Showing posts with label pipa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pipa. Show all posts

Friday, April 10, 2009

Cross-cultural Sympathies: Priscilla Lee’s Account of Alan Smith’s ‘Vignettes: Covered Wagon Woman’

 Priscilla Lee, cello
A    t the mountain-summit pass,] the wagons halted. At last Robert and I got to the top with the mules and their burdens. I was utterly exhausted. I took a buffalo robe from the packs and wrapped myself in it, and I lay myself down [almost involuntarily] by the side of the road on top of the mountain and fell into a deep sleep [or, more accurately, withdrew behind my eyelids]. I told Robert to keep watch over me and the mules.”
  —  Margaret Frink, 1850, in Holmes, ‘Covered Wagon Women’, Vol 2, p. 152.
I t feels to me like I am about to break one of the rules in Rahn’s famous multi-author edited book, ‘Going Too Far in Musical Essays’. Alan Smith’s ‘Vignettes: Covered Wagon Woman’ was performed on Tuesday evening in Kansas City by members of Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center. Cellist Priscilla Lee, mezzo-soprano Stephanie Blythe, violinist Ani Kavafian, and pianist Warren Jones’s account of this 13-movement/scene piece was superb—dramatic and engaging throughout—all the way to a touching denouement in the hummed-lullaby ‘Epilogue’.

B ut, honestly, there was a tiny feature of the performance that, for me, held great importance and fascination; one which genuinely impressed me and led me to do some thinking and learning—so I think there can be no big sin in writing something about it here. (Really, for a thematic and representational composition of such a size it would take several hearings and a close examination of the score, to win any chance of properly commenting on the overall work... which I do not have the possibility to do right now. So I rationalize my attention to the “tiny” feature.)

W hat my imagination was captivated by was the wonderful Chinese characteristics of the cello part in ‘The Sioux Tribe and the White Squaw’, the seventh movement/song.


    [30-sec clip, Priscilla Lee et al., Smith, ‘Vignettes: Covered Wagon Woman’, VII-Sioux Tribe & White Squaw, 0.6MB MP3]

I n this movement, Lee performs a series of rapid, sighing glissandos, damping the strings with her [left] hand as she goes. These are not whiny or clichéed glissandi. These are troubling glissandi that literally freeze us in our tracks...

A lan’s program notes indicate that the cello part ‘represents Mr. Robert Ledyard Frink, while the violin part most often represents his wife, Margaret Frink,’ the author of the 1850 Indiana-to-Sacramento 111-page diary that this composition sets. This seventh song derives from a traditional Sioux melody that Smith found in a book of transcribed native wooden flute pieces.

A ctually, my apprehending Chinese qualities in this ‘Sioux’ song—its rendering by Alan, and its interpretation by Priscilla—is maybe not too deviant... Native American flutes are generally tuned to a variation of the minor pentatonic scale, which lends a plaintive sound to it. And much traditional Chinese music uses a pentatonic scale, with the intervals (in lǜ) almost the same as those of a major pentatonic scale. The notes of this scale are called gong, shang, jue, zhi, and yu.

T he more ‘directly acoustic’ the expressive constructs in the score are (timbre and pitch, contrasted with, say, ‘density’, or speed of execution of some process), the more powerfully evocative the result is likely to be. A simple example is Iannis Xenakis’s ‘Pithoprakta’ (1956) for strings [plus a couple trombones and other interlopers]. The epitome of abstraction, it emulates the dynamics of gas-phase molecular physics. How emotionally evocative could that be? Ah, but the glissando speed of individual instruments corresponds to the momentum (velocity) of individual molecules. The glissandi are sampled from a Gaussian statistical distribution, and Xenakis’s notations in the score embody this explicitly. As the physics of gases specifies only momentum (a function of particle velocity), not position, the endpoints of each glissando are—and must be—defined by other means, with the notation allowing ample discretionary latitude for the performer. Likewise, Xenakis’s cello piece ‘Nómos α’ is ‘directly acoustic’ in its notation and design. The composition has the cello emulate parameter values from the mathematical structure of the Lie group of symmetries of the cube. Abstract, yet evocative. Another example of abstract, formal constructs that are nonetheless highly evocative: Stockhausen’s ‘Mikrophonie I’ effectively embodies 33 ‘moments’, which are distinct patches of rhythmic/timbral/harmonic texture. These moments’ patterns derive from constructing triplets from three sets: similar/different/opposite; supporting/neutral/opposing; increasing/constant/decreasing (Maconie 1976/2005). Oddly enough, the ‘Sioux Tribe and White Squaw’ song reminds me of these...

M ost conventional music notation is ‘prescriptive’ (‘Do this!’). But these pieces are salted with descriptive annotations: ‘Make it sound like this!’ Way beyond Italian adjectives and imperatives. And, frankly, a fun change for the performer. Cool.

G lyphs and spatial indicators in Priscilla’s marked-up music? Alan’s expanding the pitch-sets and stretching the harmonies while at the same time preserving the foundation or a skeletal form—sometimes more ‘imagined’ than written? The musical surface suggested by the score then becomes a “sketch”, at best—and a possibly dodgy one at that, like an old, dilapidated treasure map, complete with Terra Incognita. Here there be Dragons!

T he pulse that’s set up has a solid, reliable-but-striated time-sphere that’s amenable to acceleration/deceleration, which you hear in the 30-sec MP3 clip above. The cello pairs with the mezzo-soprano in lyrical ascents, while the piano and violin protest in short outbursts.

T here are allusions to alienation—of the pioneers from their former lives and from all means of social support during their journey, now among the Sioux people. There is plaintive, solitary playing... The tenuousness of the covered-wagon caravan and its people is palpable; a masterful acoustic portrayal. The piece is alternately atonal, with showy/theatrical declamation, then melodic, diaristic and tender.

T he rate of decay during Priscilla’s execution of her damped glisses is under only partial scalar control—during the damping of the strings, it is driven by the tension of the damping fingers positioned transversely across the strings/fingerboard. The amount of damping changes during each gliss, as the position of the fingers sweeps bridgeward or nutward. The deflection of the strings by the glissing-damping fingers changes continuously, and the fingers make adjustments on-the-fly.

 Gliss-to-Trill, major second
T he uncertainty in this is considerable, no matter how much rehearsal may have been done and no matter how much muscle-memory may have been built up. Technical mastery confronts vagaries of human flesh and neurophysiology, plus the multi-dimensional physics idiosyncrasies of the bowed [stopped] string(s). The string-damping is, to compound the physics further, pitch-dependent. The very low latency with which Priscilla accomplished this reminded me of a very fine pipa or zheng player—or of the impressive synchrony of large flocks of thousands of birds in simultaneous flight, never bumping into each other. Wings beating in branches, immediately damped as they take to the air. Accelerating slides, giving way to airborne trills when lift exceeds drag. She uses the left hand to bend the string to form a mode of two, three, four, five, or six—conveying a solemn, wistful feeling.

S he may have been born in California, but Priscilla must have some innate intuition of huayin! (Or else she has trained on pipa or zheng?)

 Shang Huayin portamento
I n the pipa-like or zheng-like passages, the movements of Priscilla’s left-hand resemble inside-to-outside (in the case of cello, A-string to C-string) finger movements executing a pipa tremolo (‘lun’ in Chinese).

 Li Mei, quoted in Haiqiong Deng thesis, FSU, 2006
I n some of these portamento/glissando passages, the interval to traverse is too narrow (seconds) for conventional cello ‘smooth-shift’ (slide initial finger, land by stopping with next finger) techniques to be practicable. Priscilla produces an exotic, soft, dissonant glissando—almost siren-like—punctuated by Kavafian’s pizzicato, and relieved by mezzo Stephanie Blythe’s resumption of her part. Jones binds the narrative whole of it together...

I n various passages, Priscilla played some delicate, exquisite harmonics. Both natural and artificial harmonics are possible, and, as I do not have the score available to me at the present time, I’m not sure which are indicated in this piece. Natural harmonics do not require any special notation; in a pipa or zheng score, one would specify the note with a ‘°’ above it. On each string one can obtain partial numbers 2, 3, 4. Artificial harmonics on a zheng are created by placing the edge of the left palm on a harmonic node while fingering the string as the pitch requires. Almost any note can be obtained, but not too quickly. Likewise, the cello. Ask what you will in the score, but don’t make these harmonics passages rhythmically impractically complex or fast. Zheng notation has artificial harmonics with the desired note and a ‘°’ above it, plus the abbreviation ‘artif.’ or similar. I will have to think more about that...

 Portamento, minor thirds
E    xtramusical models: “…What properties are possessed by an arithmetical progression, for example, which make it appropriate for interpretation as a metrical or ordinal pitch, or durational, or dynamic, or timbral, or density determinant? What data in the field of musical perception determine the rules of correlation?”
  —  Milton Babbitt, Past and present concepts of the limits of music, Boretz & Cone, 1972, p. 7.
P riscilla Lee trained at Curtis Institute of Music and at Mannes College of Music, and is a member of Lincoln Center’s ‘Chamber Music Society Two’. She has received an Avery Fisher Career Grant, a Gregor Piatigorsky Scholarship, a John Williams Scholarship from the Young Musicians’ Foundation, and the Barnett Family Foundation Chamber Music Competition. She has appeared at the Marlboro Music Festival, Bargemusic, Caramoor, and the Santa Fe Chamber Music Festival, among others. She is a founding member of the piano trio, Trio Cavatina, at the New England Conservatory.





Saturday, March 22, 2008

Gao Hong: Nomadic Pipa Master/Mom

 Gao Hong Have you attended a concert or heard a recording by Gao Hong, nicknamed ‘Flying Dragon’?

 Pipa Chinese pipa artist and composer Gao Hong is featured in this month’s issue of Sounding Board, the newsletter of American Composers Forum. When she was 22, she was one of just two pipa players who were selected to train at China’s premier school of music, the Central Conservatory of Music in Beijing, where she studied with Lin Shicheng, the great master of Pudong style pipa. Currently, Gao is Adjunct Instructor at Carleton College in Northfield, Minnesota.

 Pipa tablature The pipa is essentially a ‘bowl lute’. In Chinese, ‘Pi’ means ‘to play forward’ and ‘Pa’ means ‘to play backward’. In China the instrument dates to at least the 4th century C.E., but it had its origins more than 2000 years ago in Central Asia and the Middle East. The pipa has normally either 4 or 5 strings. The number of frets has gradually been increased over the centuries (now with 23 to 30 frets), giving the modern pipa greater chromatic possibilities over a three-and-a-half octave range. The pipa player tapes picks (fake fingernails) to all fingers and, optionally, to the thumb. (Do a mouse roll-over Chinese images to see translations of the texts below.)

 Road to happiness is strewn with difficulties Gao Hong has lived in the U.S. since 1993. Her playing and composing have won her much recognition, including:
  • Meet The Composer Fund New York, 2005-6
  • Subito award from the American Composers Forum, 2005
  • Emerging Composer Commission from the Jerome Foundation, 2002
  • American Composers Forum’s Performance Incentive Fund, 1998
  • McKnight Artist Fellowship for Performing Musicians, 1997
  • Fellowship from Minnesota State Arts Board, 1997
  • Walker Art Center Community Partnership Fund, 1996
  • First Prize in Hebei Young Music Performers’ Competition, 1984.
 Adapt to changing realities Gao continues to travel a great deal. So much so that I am reminded of Jacques Attali, who talks about ‘hypernomads’ in his work, L’homme nomade. Hypernomads are voluntary nomads, as distinct from involuntary nomads (infranomads), whom Attali separates into ‘nomads by custom’ and ‘nomads by constraint’. The latter includes refugees, migrant workers, homeless people, exiles. For Attali, hypernomads are a constitutionally peripatetic class of creative individuals, whose discoveries and art works influence the sedentary non-nomads. Gao Hong must, by all reckoning, be a hypernomad. Look up ‘hypernomad’ in the dictionary, and we imagine to see a picture of Gao—successful diaspora of the Chinese Cultural Revolution. Flying Dragon!

 When you are with two other people, one is always your master, someone you can learn fromGao expresses her admiration and gratitude for her experiences learning from pipa master, Lin Shicheng, who died two years ago. Gao is by nature modest and makes special effort to attribute her own accomplishments to the teaching and generosity of Lin Shicheng. It is a striking and characteristic feature of her personality, for her to so consistently and earnestly do this. She does Lin Shicheng great honor.

 Speak of Cao-Cao, Cao-Cao shows up (speak of the devil)


[ Lin Shicheng and Gao Hong, pipa; video 1996 ]

Sonic signs of Spring include birds singing at dawn, chipmunks emerging from hibernation chirping to each other from rocky outcrops. We hear this in Gao Hong’s playing, on YouTube here and here.

 What’s gone is gone Aphorisms are an oblique acknowledgement of difference—of crisis—and opposing nomadism and passivity by acting to redeem or recover culture from fragmentation and nihilism. Is this part of Gao Hong’s intention?

 Carpe diem If you haven’t lived in many places, you may not be able to identify an association between sound and place.

 Today we have wine [tomorrow, maybe not], so let’s drink today Listeners make of music what they will, based on their prior experiences and contexts that they’ve known. From all possible interpretations, they select ones to which their own experiences give priority. Gao Hong offers a wider range of experiences than most of us will ever know…

 Open the window, speak clearly People who haven’t ever been displaced—who haven’t moved around a lot, who haven’t experienced periods of separation from family and place—think of this music as ‘fantastic’ or ‘alien’. To Gao Hong, it’s utterly concrete. The timbral and rhythmic textures are concrete. Except for echo, except for reverberation. Hear it on her recordings. It is the abstraction of distance in the Chinese landscape, of mountains in the distance.

 Whole-hearted, single-minded Epic migrations over long distances—marking the chapters of one individual’s life; marking the chapters of a people’s existence as a society.

 Indigo [student] is bluer than the plant it comes from [master] It is by now evident that Gao Hong is very blue, probably bluer than her master, Lin Shicheng—even though Gao is too modest to even contemplate that possibility. Lin Shicheng’s blues were, admittedly, of a different hue—of a different generation.

 Where water flows, a channel forms Gao permits herself and her music to become ‘inscribed’ by the culture within which she lives. Minnesota and North America have been hospitable, for some 15 years now. But Nature is not ‘kind’ or ‘hospitable’. Her 7 year-old daughter’s leukemia is a case-in-point. How can a parent not be ‘inscribed’ by the life-threatening illness of her child. Where water flows, a channel is formed. Yes, a channel. An indelible gash is eroded. No one’s fault. How to cope?

 A cornered dog will leap over a high wall [do seemingly impossible things in extremis] And life goes on. Hardship and suffering are the human condition, as well as joy and treasured remembrance. It makes us become extraordinary things, leap unleapable barriers, makes us do unbelievable deeds. Things that ought to be impossible, and that one should never wish to befall any of one’s enemies. You think pipa is ‘alien’? Think again! Listen to Gao Hong’s music.

 It takes a long time to make a great instrument What does not kill us makes us stronger?

 She is worthy of the reputation she enjoys Gao Hong, fine ambassador for the human species.

 Feeling at home wherever one goes Gao, cheerful and friendly, makes everyone feel welcome. Given the challenges she has faced, how can we not be inspired by her example?

 Three feet of ice does not come from one day’s freezing weather Layer upon layer in her instrumental and choral writing, reflecting the classical influences of her conservatory training and regard for traditional Chinese forms—and yet bearing the marks of her own sense of what is happening now and what lies ahead.

 Words escape from the lips [in a Freudian-slip way] The spontaneity of Gao Hong’s playing sometimes astonishes us. She seems fearless. She lets the ‘chips’ fall, even if what they contain is an inconvenient truth.

 One hand cannot [without help from others] clap to make a sound Collaboration with Shubhendra Rao and other Asian chamber musicians is a hallmark of recent Gao projects.

 Feeling like old friends from the moment of first meeting When she was young, her mother told her “that I had a terrible singing voice. When I sang she said it sounded like someone stepping on a rooster’s neck… Writing a choral work now has made me the happiest person in the world. Even if I don’t sing it, I enjoy hearing others perform it. I’m so happy … with the incredible luck of having my piece as one of five selected to be premiered with VocalEssence.” [interview with Amy Boxrud, ACF, SoundingBoard, MAR-2008]

 Strike while the iron is hot What is most important is to keep going, to never give up.

 Choose the medicine according to the diagnosis And to use compositional materials and instruments that are best-suited to the expressive goals at hand.

 Perform well from beginning to end
C  ontrary to the objective evidence, it is the ‘we’ of all people who feel more insecure and more passionate about everything related to security than people of most other societies on record. This is the puzzle that needs a resolution if the twists and turns of the popular sensitivity to danger ... are to be comprehended.”
  —  Zygmunt Bauman, Uncertainty and Other Liquid-Modern Fears, in Priban, p. 17.
Gao will perform at Ted Mann Concert Hall, Univ Minnesota, 2128 Fourth St South, Minneapolis at 8:00 p.m. on Saturday, 19 April.