San Francisco Classical Voice

The Chinese National Traditional Orchestra performed an evening of pops on Sunday to the standing ovation of a sold-out crowd, 99.94% ethnic Chinese (based on my census of the first three rows), in San Francisco's Davies Symphony Hall. The name of the 81-piece orchestra in Chinese, Minzu yuetuan, means "ethnic nationalities" orchestra, and indeed the musical offering of 13 items included pieces derived from music of Inner Mongolia, Taiwan, Korea (Arirang), and the United States ("America the Beautiful"). Since there are so many Americans traveling, studying, or doing business in China today, I suppose Americans qualify as an ethnic minority in China. I am not sure where pieces by J.S. Bach ("Musette") and Johann Strauss ("Galopp") fit in, though.

Chinese instrumental compositions are traditionally programmatic in nature, and the titles reflect the intended mood and meaning. Structurally they are strictly melodic and through-composed, with each named section symbolically representing or imitating a particular scene or activity. There is no harmony or counterpoint to speak of and only occasional imitation, heterophony, or responsorial writing.

In general the pieces played last night (except the European ones) featured pre-existing folk and popular tunes arranged for this greatly expanded instrumental ensemble and set to sweeping 19th century Romantic harmony, reminiscent of the former Soviet nationalistic style. A common Chinese practice, however, is to shift into the neighboring key rather than modulate into the dominant or subdominant key. Also, a pentatonic or hexatonic melody may have a European triadic harmonic accompaniment, with some blues notes (wide semitones) thrown in. The melodies are romantic and lyrical, varied, embellished, and repeated in tempi that are medium, fast, slow, and gradually accelerating to furiously fast.

There is no question that the musicians, especially the soloists, are extremely well trained and disciplined. Wu Yuxia's solo on pipa (pear-shaped lute) in "Moonlit Spring River and Flowers" was played with delicacy and lilting lyricism. She was accompanied by the full orchestra and required amplification, for this instrument is normally unaccompanied in solo pieces. Li Guangcai's solo on suona (shawm) in "Hundred Birds Pay Court to the Phoenix" was extraordinary in the richness and variety of tone color he coaxed out of a 10-inch tube. Imitating a great variety of birdcalls and using circular breathing, he held a final note for an incredible 2½ minutes and never turned red. This piece, based on a north China folk tune, is usually my least favorite, but I was pleasantly surprised by his rendition and the charming accompaniment provided by a five-piece folk ensemble.

The other small ensemble item of the evening was "A Cheerful Evening," played by a five-piece string ensemble featuring five beautiful ladies on erhu (two-stringed fiddle), pipa, yangqin (dulcimer), zheng (15-stringed zither tuned by movable bridges), and ruan (four-stringed round lute). This piece featured a pleasant melody with imitation and response among the instruments and special effects such as pizzicato on the erhu, harmonics on the pipa, and syncopated percussion on the wooded parts of the instruments.

My favorite, however, was "The Herdsman's New Song," based on a Mongolian tune and played on the dizi (transverse flute) by Wang Cihuan and accompanied by the full orchestra. This is the only other solo instrument besides the suona that is audible over the orchestra without amplification. This dizi has an opening below the embouchure that is covered with a stretched-reed membrane. The vibration of the membrane gives the sound a bright and slightly strident quality with tremendous carrying quality. Wang, however, toned down the stridency and produced a sweet and rich tone that was powerful without being overpowering. The melody was pentatonic, with a galloping rhythm evocative of horsemen on the grassland.

Chinese music in general has only duple rhythms — four, two, and eight — and no triple or dotted meters except for some southwestern ethnic minority music. The only piece of the evening with some rhythmic exoticism was the last piece, an arrangement of Korean Arirang, alternating a section in 4/4 time with a section in 6/4 time. The crowning moment was the final drum duet between the timpani and the large drum

The instrumentation and the size of the orchestra also lend new meaning to the word traditional. In the history of Chinese art and literature there has never been a representation or description of a musical ensemble greater than 6–12 pieces. Currently on exhibit in the Asian Art Museum is a charming Tang dynasty bas relief depicting 12 women musicians leaning into their performance with lifelike engagement (Golden age of Chinese Archeology catalog #175), which is about the right number. Larger ensembles of several score were used only in court processions and Confucian temples, performing uninteresting ritual pieces in slow, plodding 4/2 time, entirely in half notes and unison.

This orchestra is based on the former Soviet "tradition" of symphonic folk ensembles, namely, a gathering of native folk analogs of European symphonic instruments, plus plucked strings, and borrowing and inventing to fill in the gaps. For example, this orchestra includes a full set of timpani in addition to the Chinese drum set. Real Chinese music lacks low-register instruments completely, so the Chinese music establishment adapted old instruments and invented new ones. For instance, the sheng (mouth organ), originally a hand-held rice-bowl-size fitting with pipes sticking out of it, comes here in three sizes, the largest of which is restaurant wok size with 3-foot pipes sticking up and set on a stand.

The erhu, a two-stringed bowed fiddle, traditionally in treble and alto registers, takes the place of the violin of a Western orchestra. The cello and bass strings are filled in by newly invented circular-bodied viols in two large sizes. The ruan (plucked four-string round, banjo-like lute) also comes in three sizes. And the pipa, the pear-shaped lute, is shrunk to a super-treble size for the orchestra, the normal size pipa used for solos. The dizi (transverse flute) and suona (double-reed shawm) are the only two solo instruments that need no amplification to be heard over the orchestra. The whole ensemble sounds great — in fact, no different from a Western symphonic band!

At the end of program, the orchestra played three encores: a light and joyous Chinese piece titled "Flowers under a full moon," in celebration of the lunar festival on September 12; the Toreadors' march from Bizet's Carmen; and finally an apparently popular folk tune for which the audience joined in with clapping, though no one could tell me the title.

As people rose to leave, I sat waiting for sounds of the replicas of the bianzhong (3000-year-old tuned bronze bells), bianqing (tuned stone chimes), and yunluo (tuned gongs), all of which were touted in the press release. Alas, they never appeared. The real ones, which were excavated in 1978 in near-perfect preservation and haven't been struck since the burial of their master in 433 B.C., stand silent in the Asian Art Museum or perhaps already packed for repatriation to China.

(Lindy Li Mark, Ph.D., is professor of anthropology and department chair at California State University, Hayward. She also studied ethnomusicology for her M.A. degree.)

©2000 Lindy Li Mark, all rights reserved