It should be added that these are all highly trained musicians of experience as well as dexterity. All the Chinese musicians are graduated by major schools or conservatories back in the old country. So too the Americans: flutist Esther Landau, oboist Laura Reynolds, clarinetist Dania Esterman, hornist Zachary Limacher, and bassoonist Charles Moehnke.

One of the more amazing aspects of it all was the consistently fine ensemble playing. After all, neither group has played with the other — at least, not often. Yet I saw no element of strain in the performers. (That might have something to do with the occasional aid of conductor Jon Russell.)

Some very unusual things occurred. Dong's Miniature Suite was, first of all, not miniature by normal standards. Second, it consisted really consisted of two suites, the first in three highly poetic movements for Chinese instruments, followed by more movements that added Western instruments. Composer Dong later said that the music was part of a larger theater project. Oh!

There was no element of kitsch in any of the music, and thanks be for that. Yet with the exception of the Nielsen, the Chinese composers outclassed their American counterparts. That's not surprising when one considers that the Americans were exploring what would seem to be unfamiliar materials and instrumental possibilities.

Some of the traditional and unusual elements of Asian music turned up, to be sure. Percussionist Wang, for instance, had to make vocal percussion sounds as well as play his drums, bells, cymbals, et al. That's relatively common throughout Asia, from India up to Japan as well as everywhere in between. The Balinese, for instance, take this to great extremes. But some of the effects, particularly during Huang's finale Dis-Connect, included elements from the current European avant-garde, especially in terms of dissonant harmonic counterpoint. (Born in Hunan and trained at the Central Conservatory of Beijing, Huang currently works for a financial company in San Mateo. How's that for unlikely?)

Some of the other works floated in free form, rather like a mobile in the process of improvisation. Those never went as far as John Cage, though hints appeared. Yet nothing jarred. Indeed, to the contrary, I found it difficult to remain fully alert because the sounds filling Old First could so easily mesmerize the senses with their sheer breath of beauty and mysticism.

The occasional burst of merriment in the music added contrasts, but on the whole the effect of hearing these musics was more often an experience in profundity. I left invigorated by the event, but at the same time in a mild state of mental disarray. It was all so musical and yet all so new. It seemed to open a whole new door to musical composition, almost like having been at the premiere of Stravinsky's Sacre — minus the riot.