The Points: Story of a Pipa Solo

by Wu Man

      It was in October of this year that I first performed Chen Yi's "The Points" - at a concert by the New Music Consort, and ten days later at Music From China's "Premiere Works" concert [as part of "Suite"]. The audience response was wildly enthusiastic. "The Points" garnered unanimous praise, both as a new work and for its skillful employment of pipa technique. Chen Yi and I were overwhelmed. This is the story of what led up to that exhilarating moment.
      In June, Chen Yi had already collected numerous pipa scores and related material, with the idea of composing a pipa solo. I assumed she'd need quite a long time to complete such a work since in the pipa's long history many traditional scores had so fully exploited its expressive powers. Then, too, pipa styles have long been divided into diverse schools.
      Speaking of school reminds me of my own study of Pudong pipa. Considered one of the four major schools, Pudong pipa originated in Shanghai's Pudong region and was refined through the generations until a unique playing style and repertoire emerged. Pipa scores from the Ming and Qing often have only "bare bones" melodic notation; there's a sizeable gap between such notation and actual performance. Later performers generally filled this gap by adding their own familiar techniques and styles, according to individual aesthetics. Besides reading the score, students must absorb and internalize oral teachings to attain genuine knowledge and command of the nuances of a particular style. True skill comes only in this way.
      While in the master's program at the Central Conservatory in Beijing, I studied with one of Pudong's acknowledged standard-bearers, Lin Shicheng. In a few years I learned a number of the gems of Pudong, both martial and lyric tunes. In class, Professor Lin would demonstrate a particular fingering or articulation a few times for the student to discern the music's underlying essence. A school's style is intimately related to the aesthetics, erudition, and manner of speaking of its practitioners. From talking with Professor Lin, listening to his playing, discussing the history of each tune, and observing his calligraphy, I came to understand Pudong's artistic core. One dictum states, " Lyric tunes describe feelings, weighted toward expressing the sublime....Martial tunes tell a story, weighted toward description of things and events in vivid detail." In playing technique, "Lyric tunes are slow.... The music's inner soul is expressed through varied shadings of dynamics and tone colors. Martial tunes are often rapid, with dramatic, sudden tempo changes....A particular event or action can be expressed with diverse rhythmic forms." In performance, "The atmosphere of martial tunes is large-scale; of lyric tunes, fine and delicate." The time and talent that have gone into forming these traditions have created a legacy hard to surpass.
      In recent years, also, various pipa performers have begun experimenting with new techniques. In more than ten years of music education, I have become keenly attuned to new ideas and new possibilities for the instrument. However, to combine time-honored, traditional techniques with the best that each school has to offer and create innovations that advance the art of the pipa is no easy task.       Yet, in less than a month, Chen Yi handed me a first draft, to my amazement. "It's called 'The Points.' The structure comes from the brush stroke movements of Zhengkai calligraphy; the melodic material comes from Shaanxi opera," she said. I took the score and hesitantly began to play. Gradually, clouds of doubt dissipated. When I finished, I couldn't help exclaiming, "Bravo!" In this work she had integrated the spirit of the traditional lyric and martial techniques; but its modern structure, melody, and basic tunings were worlds apart from the traditional. It was technically demanding, artistically profound. Though the title refers to the contact points between brush and paper that commence and characterize the eight strokes, "points" also aptly capture the nature of plucked string music - the melody is created out of musical points plucked forth by the fingers.
      Chen Yi finished the next draft at the artists' colony of Yaddo. She invited me to come up and work on it. Together we made a thorough study of fingerings. In a small cottage in the woods, in a quiet broken only by bird songs, I tried out different fingerings. Chen Yi sat quietly off to the side; suddenly she called out,"That's it!" It was a special fingering - xiangjiao vibrato. The left hand pushes and pulls on the fourth string in the upper ledges to perform a vibrato with a small, wobbly sound. That technique brought to mind Liu Dehai, a leader in reforming pipa playing techniques who was my college professor.
      I remembered anew sitting in his music studio listening to his new arrangement of the classic "The Warlord Removes His Armor." In the last section, the sound suddenly became faint, the left hand producing a ceaseless vibrato in the xiang ledges. That fragile sound complementing the right-hand bass tremolo created a mood of heartrending tragedy, as when the defeated warlord Xiang Yu prepares to commit suicide. I cried out, "That technique is fantastic!" Once I'd learned the piece, I often thought of using it again somehow. In one moment at Yaddo, Chen Yi had plucked that very technique out of my whole repertoire, and applied it just right in "The Points."
      The structure and form of "The Points" are based on the different movements involved in the eight basic strokes of calligraphy, exemplified by the character "yong" [eternal]. The introduction is like the first downward stroke: an opening note in forte with a succession of portamenti, strumming and vibratos are followed by quickening sixteenth notes that build to a crescendo. This sustained crescendo comes to a dramatic halt, as when the flowing energy of the brush is suddenly withdrawn.
      The first few measures of the first section have the feeling of vigorous percussion with slow singing of opera. Although metrically free, it's full of tension. Constant wide vibratos of the left hand and intense tremolo using the right thumb bring to life the "qin" stroke whose gradual progression is quickly detoured. At the same time, there is the unmistakable atmosphere of the bangzi style of Qin opera. The entire first section is extremely diverse. At first glance, the score is mind-boggling, but on closer examination there's much to delight in. In one section, an initial thick, humming male vocal sound suddenly becomes a subtle yet bright soprano sound. I use various slides and vibratos to imitate the human voice. In traditional Chinese music, the use of sliding notes is related to dialect and opera singing - parts of many huqin [fiddle] tunes can be considered as instumentalized song. Chinese musical thought doesn't limit music to the sounds of nature. Pipa tunes like "Ambush on Ten Sides," "Warlord," and "Haiqing Captures the Swan" evoke battle cries, explosions, and horses hooves. Chen Yi cleverly uses different registers and dynamic changes to integrate lyric and martial tune performance techniques, adding local color to melodies to more closely approximate the Qin vocal style.
      The music in measures forty-six to sixty vividly reflects the upward horizontal movement of the fifth brush stroke, full of strength and purpose. Tuning the third and fourth outer strings a half-step higher, and using non-traditional position jumps and spanning strings allow greater flexibility with rhythms and dynamics. The result is wonderfully uninhibited. Tonal colorations in the Chinese opera-influenced sections are carefully measured; strumming is forceful, but not harsh.
      The sixth brush stroke, an arching movement, can be capricious in unsteady hands. The xiangjiao vibrato is put to good use here. While softly playing the tan tiao [plucking the string with the thumb and forefinger of the right hand], left hand pressure on the xiang ledge creates a wide, quivering vibrato. This sound evokes the stroke's uncertain tendencies. The initial thickness of the curving stroke is realized through uncommonly wide jumps between lower and upper registers that culminate in vigorous strumming.
      The climatic moment of this work is strikingly unconventional. Traditional compositions usually resort to strumming and the playing of chords. Here, though, the performer must play sixty measures of fast sixteenth notes unceasingly. Through modulation from low to high register and sequence, the music reaches its highest point when "the large strings hum like rain" [from "Song of the Lute" by Bo Juyi]. This section is rhythmically exacting and requires clean attacks. Besides rapid tan tiao plucking, frequent jumps with the left hand add to the work's technical difficulty. In as demanding a work as this, there is a danger of the hands stiffening from fatigue, hindering the melody from flowing freely "like a pouring of large and small pearls into a plate of jade" ["Song of the Lute"]. I may either diminish my hand movements to save energy and maintain better control, or alternate vibratos and dynamics at moments that call for special tone colors. Similarly, in calligraphy, brush strokes are at differing times heavy or light; the ink can be dark or faint.
      At this point in the music my mind goes back to high school when I studied with Professors Kuang Yuzhong and Chen Zemin. I remember Professor Kuang, especially, took a scientific approach to my training. Twice a week he would evaluate my technique which included form, lun zhi [roll using five fingers], tan tiao, gun [roll using tan tiao], position change, jumps, and left-right hand coordination. In later training, more emphasis was placed on tone color, dynamics, phrasing, technical fluency in performance, and expression. I spent several summers in school and Professor Kuang also gave me lessons on his own time. I have fond memories of those times - and much gratitude.
      The concluding section seems as tranquil and simple as a lyric melody, yet each note carries deep emotion. Playing it calls forth fully the unique techniques of lyric tunes - subtle fingering variations and gradations of tonal dynamics and timbres. The work ends with the sudden appearance of the lun zhi, creating a strong tremolo, sustained for thirty-six beats. The last brush stroke comes as a finishing flourish.
      This work's conceptual daring, structural integrity, technical complexity, and rich folk flavor all endear it to me. I believe that the pipa's vitality rests in building new works on its traditional foundation. This exploration must suit the pipa's unique voice and playing skills; to create works fully employing a Chinese musical language and expressing modern perceptions demands thorough study. New pipa tunes have been scarce in recent times; most now are arrangements or transcriptions. In this light, "The Points" is even more rare and precious.

Born in Hangzhou, Wu Man received her M.A. in pipa from the Beijing Central Conservatory in 1987. She won first place in China's First National Academic Competition for Chinese Instruments in 1989. She has toured Japan and Europe and performs as a soloist with various American ensembles. In March, she will be the soloist in The Women's Philharmonic premiere of Zhou Long's pipa concerto in San Francisco. A recording of Wu Man's pipa solos, "The Warlord Removes His Armor," has been issued this year by Bailey Records, H.K. and the China Record Company.

"Premiere" Impressions

by Claire Heldrich

By a rare and fortuitous coincidence, two concerts of contemporary Chinese music took place in New York in October: one presented by Music From China, and an earlier event featuring the New Music Consort, a highly regarded modern music ensemble. In light of this remarkable burst of Chinese music activity, we decided to ask Claire Heldrich, director of the New Music Consort and professor of percussion at the Manhattan School of Music, to set down some of her reactions to Music From China's "Premiere Works."

      "Wu Ji" by Zhou Long, with Gwendolyn Mok, piano; Wu Man, zheng; and Erik Charleston, percussion. The work focused on the concept of infinity - hat which is beyond time and space. The composer achieves his effects using a wide range of tone colors in the piano part and pairing it with the zheng. The zheng's otherworldly sense of color leads the mind back into antiquity, while the modern piano and percussion instruments reach forward to the future. Zhou combines these two worlds of color and space.
      "Southern Features" by Li Binyang, with Tang Liangxing, qin; and Wei Laigen, xun. This piece begins with the haunting sounds of the xun calling the listener forth to enter the world it is creating. The qin and the xun possess a charm and flavor of their own. Both instruments touch something universal within each individual, making one feel satisfied and content. The mood then shifts to a moderate dancelike tempo and gradually proceeds to a fast, rhythmic, energetic climax.
      "Walking Walking Keep Walking" by Bun-Ching Lam, with Chen Shizheng, tenor, and ensemble. The original instruments truly complement the text, four selections from "Nineteen Ancient Poems" of the Han Dynasty. That the poems were written 2,000 years ago made a special impression on me: not just their beauty, but that I could know in this century how and what an artist of that time was thinking and feeling and how he expressed himself.
      Ms. Lam has composed simple yet beautiful music to reflect the text. In movement one, a slow quarter-note motive depicts the poem's first line, the wanderer walking. The melodies convey a serious, pensive mood throughout the movement. In the second poem, the woodblocks usher in a folk-like melody that is upbeat and exciting. Movement three is characterized by a very emotional text and performance. The mood is serious and slow, to reflect the grief the poem's narrator is experiencing. The erhu sounds like a melancholy woman's song. The fourth movement is slow and serene, with the bamboo flute playing a heartfelt melody. A sense of longing is conveyed throughout and there is an effective use of the tenor's falsetto voice.
      "You Lan" by Zhou Long was given an inspiring performance by Tien-juo Wang on the erhu and Gwendolyn Mok on piano. The music ties us to the past and letting us relive Confucius's feelings on seeing orchids blooming serenely in a deserted valley after being rejected for government service. The music reflects sometimes subtle, sometimes dramatic moods of passion and emotion as well as whimsy, anger, and exuberance. The music was like a journey into the heart of Confucius.
      "Stillness" by Qu Xiaosong was a sensitive work featuring Susan Cheng on zheng, Helen Yee on yangqin, and Wu Man on percussion. Mr. Qu conducted the work. He was able to magnify the individual colors and textures in this work by selecting a slow tempo and leaving time for the colors to reverberate, mix, and decay according to the nature of the instrument used. He also leaves time for the listener to reflect on the impact of the sounds and to savor their timbres and tone colors.
      "Suite" by Chen Yi for chamber ensemble, conducted by Zhou Long, provided a dynamic end to the concert. The three-movement work had a rousing opening with the pipa in the forefront. The bamboo flute and drum punctuate the very rhythmic writing and the high woodblock adds to the lively mood. The movement gave Wu Man an opportunity to display her virtuosity on the pipa during several fiery solos. The full ensemble joins in about a quarter of the way through with a tuneful and lively melody, accompanied by a high-pitch woodblock. The movement concludes with a pipa solo.
      The second movement is slow, with the dizi as a solo voice. Ms. Chen wrote very interesting and melodious motives for the dizi and accompanied it with a sensitive use of color and shape. The third movement gradually builds layers of melodies; five-note groups against four-note groups are used to create a spirited movement.

Mixed Media

      Beijing opera is perhaps more widely known and admired outside China for its dramatic (and acrobatic) qualities than for its musical content. Previous books and articles in English have delved into and speculated on Beijing opera's visual appeal and theatrical uniqueness. Listening to Theatre presents an ambitious and thorough-looking musicological examination of this elaborate art form.
      Wichmann's aim is "to describe major components of aural performance as they are understood by Beijing opera practitioners and connoisseurs." Individual chapters focus on aesthetics, including role types, plots, and dramatic structure; language, in lyrics and stage speech; composition; voice production and types; the instruments, individually and in ensemble; and the integration of components in performance. The book is replete with musical transcription examples, charts, and other analytical material.

Monkey King Looks West, by Christine Choy. 1990, film/videotape, 42 minutes. Distributed by Film News Now Foundation, 625 Broadway, New York, NY 10003.

      Beijing opera in exile is the subject of this dazzling, provocative documentary. Christine Choy is known as the co-director of the powerful "Who Killed Vincent Chin?" (about the murder of a Chinese American in Detroit) and a score of other documentaries. Here she profiles two Beijing opera professionals from Taiwan and one non-professional enthusiast (Alan Chow of the Chinatown Arts Council) as they struggle to practice their art while earning livelihoods in other ways (butcher, tour guide) in New York. Choy' camera work and editing are masterful. Opera aficionados be warned: Though the film excels in visual presentation, it is clearly not intended as an in-depth look at Beijing opera itself. It does, however, deliver personal drama.

Article Index
Newsletter Vol. 1, No. 4
Winter 1991
Big5 Version