A world out of harmony, such is war. And it seems to be a theme to which a Chinese traditional orchestra is admirably suited. Listening to the piece Generals of the North in rehearsal by the Taipei Municipal (Chinese music) Orchestra, I was impressed as usual by the uncanny power of the thin-toned traditional strings to produce sounds that pluck a cord in one's gut, sounds which make the adrenaline now. The effect of this piece is a buildup of might upon power, with no concession to harmony. The audience is left awestruck.
It is an exciting orchestra; its precision carries the music to its ultimate effect. The traditional music it was playing was adapted for orchestra by Conductor Wong Ching-ping. Perhaps it was first written to welcome triumphant generals to the Emperor's court, and because of its purpose, is not a very sophisticated piece. Thus, its impact is certainly a tribute to the clever arrangement; through juxtaposing tone against tone, tremendous vitality has been achieved.
Next for rehearsal was a folk song, again orchestrated by Conductor Wong Ching-ping. Soloist Ms. Yeh Chang-fen sang The Love Bird's Call. People familiar with the Chinese soprano voice will know it has a quality quite unlike its Western counterpart. Its different pitch is harmonic with the Chinese orchestra's strings—the pan hu, nan hu, and pei ke hu.
In formation, the various sections of the Chinese orchestra are based on the Western model, and the pan hu, nan hu, and chung hu fullfil roles equivalent to 1st and 2nd violins and viola. The pei ke hu may be compared to the cello.
Relying as it does mainly on adapted folk and operatic songs, the orchestra has many short pieces in its repertoire; there is nothing similar to the great works of Western music. Chinese musicologist Ming Li-kuo, in an article comparing the two systems, maintains that Chinese composers have been mainly concerned with seeking humanity and philosophy within the musical system. In contrast, from Ming Li-kuo's point of view, Western music is more concerned with surmounting the arduous in music, seeking expression through a system bound by stringent demands of structuralism and order. He believes that this analytical harmonic structure of Western music, and the single melody line typical of Chinese music, reflect vastly different musical concepts. Each civilization's long process of cultural development has given rise to distinct musical languages.
The Chinese orchestra is, however, a new direction in the developmental process of Chinese music. The first Chinese orchestra as such, was formed in 1938 by the Nanking Broadcasting Company, and thus it is a recent institution. The significance of the orchestral concept is that it is a medium which appeals to today's society and, therefore, a modern vehicle for carrying on the Chinese musical tradition. The Taipei Municipal Orchestra, formed in 1979, has made frequent tours in Taiwan and gives regular performances in Taipei. Audience receptions have been unfailingly enthusiastic, due both to the excellence of the orchestral performance and to the receptivity of the Chinese people to revivals of their traditions.
All performances include a selection of solo pieces which demonstrate the more traditional functions of selected instruments. Listening to such selections, one understands why Ming Li-kuo writes that Chinese musical concepts tend to explore the infinity of spiritual spheres. One of the most ancient instruments is the shun: it is simply a porcelain egg-shaped orb; the hole at its top is blown across, like that of a flute. Six fingerholes in the body of the orb control its note range. Chuang Ho-ming, despite the shun's apparent limitations, carried his audience into "spiritual spheres" in A Dark Night on an Eerie Mountain. In this lyrical piece, the deep tones of the shun describe the mountain with its steep precipices, and also its wailing winds—which subjugate the visitor to an ominous forest's hypnotic illusions.
Some of the traditional solo music has been inspired by poetry, as with A Fishing Boat Returns at Dusk; originally a Tang Dynasty poem, its lyrics were set to music for the ku cheng, a sixteen-string lute. A six-foot concert instrument is strung on a curved rectangular soundboard, the strings passing over individual butterfly-shaped bridges. As the right hand plucks, the left controls the resonance by pressure on the top ends of the strings.
Soloist Huang Yung-ming told, on her ku cheng, the tale of a fisherman returning home at dusk with a load of fish: Overwhelmed by the beauty of the mountains and the dark enveloping him, he drifts, losing all sense of time till he suddenly awakens to inky blackness. Frantic, he begins to row for home, his panic building up until he sights the glow of village lights. Ms. Huang's wonderful sense of timing and musical expression bring back the spirit of this eternal fisherman.
Conductor Wong noted that new composers, influenced by Western concepts of musical structure, were now coming forward with contemporary Chinese orchestral works. Lo Sheng (Goddess of the Lo River), composed by Chang Yu, is such a work, based on a traditional theme. It describes the tragic love story of Chen Fei, who become a Goddess upon being swallowed up by the Lo River, and two suitors—the brothers Tsao Chi and Tsao Pi. The composition explores the variety of expression available through the different instruments of the orchestra. The gongs and tung hsiao (a recorder) dominate the prologue, suggesting the pending tragedy. Chen Fei, the beauty, is introduced by the lute, delicate and reserved; then lyric strings develop the impact of her beauty. Hushed bass strings portray the poet Tsao Chi, taken by love for Chen Fei but committed to non-action. The pan ti (a flute) depicts the flowering of their love as a result of an "accidental" rendezvous. Then the sona (Chinese trumpet) brings in the horror of Tsao Pi as he vents his jealous rage, the music rising to climax via the percussions when Chen Fei is driven to her fate. Finally, gongs and tung hsiao return to mourn the tragedy, followed by the lute, which eulogizes Chen Fei's deification. The complete work is more in the structural form of Western operatic tradition than the Chinese, but is rooted in the Chinese tradition for expression and mood. Composers C.H. Hsu and S.R. Ma have also produced compositions based on traditional stories—and on more abstract themes.
The orchestra's present 40 members, Wong Ching-ping hopes, will soon be increased to 60 to give it greater depth and power, required for several of the pieces now being performed. Most of the musicians are drawn from the two main Chinese music schools in Taiwan—the Chinese music departments of the Chinese Culture University at Yangmingshan and the National Taiwan Academy of Arts at Panchiao, Taipei. Both schools have student orchestras. The very large orchestra of the former school, playing among the huge columns of its traditional style buildings, demonstrates that its members are already quite proficient as musicians. However, the professional positions in Chinese orchestras are very limited, so only the best will have the opportunity of thus continuing their traditional music careers. Interest is keen, though, and has spread down into the high schools, which now provide the island with about one hundred Chinese music orchestras.
The sona, or Chinese trumpet, is usually a fearful instrument in that it is associated by Taiwan residents, at times with marriage celebrations, but more often with funerals. Thus when Liu Sung-hui, a trumpeter of the Taipei Municipal Orchestra, first offered to play a solo, I must admit I cringed; but his performance was magnificent, changing my opinion of this much misused instrument. The orchestral wind instruments also include three different flutes, a recorder, and a drone (the sheng)—a gourd-shaped bowl with mouthpiece on the side and a vertical row of reed pipes. There are several plucked-string instruments, three different zithers, five varieties of mandolin, and the ku cheng or lute. Remaining are the basic strings and percussion.
The basic strings—the nan hu, pan hu, chung hu, and pei ke hu—are, except for the pei ke hu, all two-stringed instruments based on the design of the more primitive erh hu—a four-inch cylinder of bamboo with a snakeskin stretched over one end to make a sound box. The neck passes right through the cylinder. Dual strings fixed at its base run across a low bridge on the snakeskin up the long part of the neck, or fingerboard, to two tension pegs. The bowstring goes between these two strings; either one can be played by pressure toward or away from the neck. The more sophisticated orchestral instruments are set apart from the erh hu by finer woods and craftsmanship. The erh hu, itself, remains popular and may often be heard in Taiwan's city parks, usually played by older musicians giving impromptu performances while catching evening breezes. The music they play is of the same origin as that adapted to the orchestra's repertoire.
The Taipei Municipal Orchestra provides a fresh channel through which China's musical heritage can be propagated and performed, at home and abroad, by the best talent available. Conductor Wong Ching-ping said, in this connection, that from 1984, the orchestra plans to commence annual tours to Southeast Asia and, hopefully, Australia.