Turkish folk music is carried by a family of instruments that most visitors hear before they ever see them: the twang of the long-necked saz, the breathy flute of the kaval, the sharp beat of the darbuka. These instruments have accompanied Anatolia for centuries, from village weddings to the courts of sultans. This guide introduces the main traditional instruments, explains how they sound and how they are played, and tells you where to hear them during your travels in Turkey.
The Sound of Anatolia
Anatolia’s music reflects its geography. The instruments combine the deep strings of Central Asian Turkic tradition, the reeds and flutes of the Middle East, and the percussion of the Balkans, and the result is a sound at once familiar and distinctive. Modal scales called makams govern the melodies, giving Turkish music its characteristic emotional color.
Traditional instruments are mostly acoustic and handcrafted. Bodies are carved from wood, skins are stretched over frames, and strings were once made from gut before metal became standard. Because the instruments are built by hand, each one has its own voice, and players often keep a single instrument for a lifetime.
The music itself is passed on by ear rather than by notation. Players learn from teachers, from family, and from listening, and the tradition values personal expression over exact reproduction. This is why two performances of the same song can sound completely different, and why the instruments remain so alive today.
The Saz Family
The saz, also called the bağlama, is the soul of Turkish folk music: a long-necked lute with three courses of strings, played with a plastic or cherrywood plectrum. Its body is a rounded bowl of carved wood, and its long neck carries the movable frets that produce the microtonal intervals of Turkish music.
The family has many members of different sizes. The small cura has a bright, high voice; the middle-sized bağlama is the most common; and the large divan sazı has a deep, resonant tone. Players choose their size for the song and the setting, and the same tune sounds entirely different on a cura and a divan.
The saz is the instrument of the aşık, the folk poet-singer of Anatolia, who accompanies his own verses with his playing. It is also the instrument of the young and the political: since the twentieth century, the saz has become the symbol of folk revival, carried by students, workers, and protest singers alike.
The Wind Instruments
The ney is the most spiritual of Turkish instruments: an end-blown reed flute, without a mouthpiece, held obliquely at the lips. Its breathy, meditative tone is inseparable from Sufi music and the whirling dervishes, and it produces a sound that seems to hang in the air. Learning to produce a clean note on the ney takes months.
The kaval is the shepherd’s flute, a simple wooden pipe played by village musicians across Anatolia. Its sound is bright and open, closer to folk song than to the mosque, and it accompanies dances and laments. The kaval has no keys; the player covers the holes with the fingertips, and the smallest variations shape the melody.
The zurna is the loud one: a conical double-reed instrument with a piercing, almost nasal voice, traditionally played at weddings and open-air celebrations. Because it is so loud, it is almost always paired with a big drum, and the zurna-davul duo is one of the most ancient combinations in Turkish music.
The Urban Strings
Beside the folk instruments stand the refined strings of Ottoman court and city music. The kemençe is a small, pear-shaped fiddle played upright on the knee, with a voice like a human sigh; it is the signature instrument of Istanbul‘s classical fasıl music. Its bow is short, and its technique is demanding.
The kanun is a flat, trapezoid zither with dozens of strings, plucked with plectra worn on the fingers. Its brilliant, cascading sound fills concert halls, and it is one of the staples of Turkish classical ensembles. The ud, the Middle Eastern lute, adds its deep, warm voice to the same ensembles.
These instruments blur the line between folk and classical. A village musician may play the kemençe, and a palace musician may play the saz, and the shared repertory moves freely between the two worlds. The city instruments are simply the folk instruments of the cities.
The Rhythm
Turkish music is carried by a rich percussion family. The darbuka, a goblet-shaped drum with a skin head, is the most familiar, producing sharp slaps and deep bass tones with the hands. It drives belly dance, wedding music, and pop songs alike, and it is the easiest instrument for visitors to recognize.
The def, a large frame drum with jingles, accompanies songs and religious music, and the kudüm, a pair of small kettle drums, is used in Sufi ceremonies. The davul, a big two-sided drum beaten with a stick, pairs with the zurna in the open air and marks the rhythm of weddings and festivals.
Rhythm in Turkish music is not simple counting. The traditional meters, like the nine-beat aksak used in many dances, are uneven, and the percussionist must feel them as a living pulse. This is why Turkish drumming sounds driving and danceable to foreign ears, yet is hard to copy.
Instruments in Daily Life
Traditional instruments are not museum pieces; they live in the daily life of Turkey. Weddings are their greatest stage, with the zurna and davul leading the procession and the saz playing through the night. Name days, circumcision feasts, and village festivals all call for music, and the instruments follow.
The aşık tradition keeps the saz at the center of poetry. Aşık singers compose verses in competition, improvising on love, nature, and faith, and their instrument is always in their hands. The tradition survives today in festivals and on television, and aşık singers are still famous across Anatolia.
Religious music has its own instruments. The ney and the kudüm accompany the ceremonies of the Mevlevi order, and the sound of the ney has become, for many people, the sound of Turkish spirituality itself. From wedding dance to ritual trance, the instruments cover the whole range of human experience.
The Masters
The tradition’s great names are remembered as much for their playing as for their songs. Aşık Veysel, the blind poet of Sivas, sang his verses to the saz through the middle of the twentieth century, and his songs are still sung by children across Turkey. His warm, simple playing set the standard for the folk revival.
In the cities, the ud master Udi Hrant and the kemençe virtuosos of Istanbul carried the classical repertory through the twentieth century, keeping the old styles alive through recordings and radio. Their names may be less familiar abroad, but their recordings are the schoolbooks of Turkish music today.
The masters matter because the tradition is oral. A great player’s phrasing, ornament, and timing pass into the playing of everyone who heard them, so the history of Turkish music is written in the hands of its musicians. The instruments are the archive, and the masters are its librarians.
Regional Styles
Anatolia’s regions have their own sounds, shaped by geography and history. The Black Sea coast is the home of the kemençe, the small fiddle of the horon dance, and its music is fast, rhythmic, and inseparable from the sea. The eastern provinces favor the long-necked saz and the melancholic songs of the aşık tradition.
Central Anatolia is the heartland of the bağlama and the aşık, and its music is meditative and verbal, built around song. The Aegean and Mediterranean coasts mix Turkish and Balkan sounds, with the zeybek dance of the west and its slow, proud rhythm. Thrace, in Europe, carries the rhythms of Balkan weddings.
The differences are audible but not absolute: musicians travel, styles mix, and a good player knows several regional dialects of the same instrument. For the listener, the variety is the point, and exploring it is one of the deep pleasures of Turkish music.
Learning and Preservation Today
Turkish instruments are taught more widely than ever. State conservatories have folk music departments, private schools teach the saz and the ney, and online courses have carried the tradition to a global audience. The instruments themselves are made in busy workshops in Istanbul and the provinces.
Preservation is an active project. Museums hold historical instruments, archives record the playing of the old masters, and researchers document village traditions before they fade. The state’s cultural institutions sponsor folk ensembles, and festivals celebrate regional music throughout the year.
The tradition has also absorbed modern life. Electric sazes, amplified ensembles, and folk-pop fusions have all appeared, and young players experiment with the old instruments in new genres. The instruments have proved as adaptable as the culture that made them, and their future looks secure.
Hearing Them in Turkey
You do not need a concert ticket to hear Turkish instruments. Walk through any Turkish town in the evening and you may hear a saz from an open window or a wedding procession with zurna and davul. The music is simply in the air, and it costs nothing to listen.
For a full performance, look for the organized music. Istanbul’s meyhanes and music houses host fasıl ensembles with kanun, kemençe, and ud, and cultural centers present folk concerts and aşık evenings. The Mevlevi ceremonies, where the ney leads the ritual, are held regularly in Istanbul and Konya.
Festivals are the best chance to hear everything at once. Many Turkish cities hold folk music festivals in the summer, with village ensembles, master players, and competitions side by side. Bring good ears, and you will leave with the sound of Anatolia in your head.
Frequently asked questions
What is the difference between bağlama and saz?
In everyday Turkish, bağlama and saz are the same instrument; bağlama is the technical name, and saz is the common word. The instrument is a long-necked lute with three courses of strings, and it comes in several sizes, from the small cura to the large divan sazı. When Turks say saz, they usually mean the bağlama, the most popular instrument of folk music.
What is the ney made of?
The ney is made from a section of the giant reed called kamış, the same plant that grows along rivers throughout the Middle East. It is hollow, open at both ends, and produces its breathy sound when the player blows across the upper opening at an angle. A mouthpiece of horn or plastic, called the başpare, protects the reed.
Where can visitors hear traditional instruments?
Visitors can hear them almost everywhere: in the streets, at weddings, and in restaurants, where live ensembles play fasıl and folk music. For organized performances, Istanbul offers meyhane music, Mevlevi ceremonies with the ney, and folk concerts at cultural centers. Summer festivals across Anatolia bring together village ensembles and master players from every region.
All Over Information
The All Over Information editorial team researches and writes practical English-language guides to Turkey. Facts are checked against official and local sources before publication, prices are published as dated ranges rather than quotes, and guides are revised when things change. We accept no sponsored posts, paid placements or paid links.
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