A Centennial Story of the Chinese Fiddle

 

Pilgrim Uniting Church, Sun 3 Mar.

That different cultures across the world have found their own solutions to life’s matters is a fascinating aspect of humanity. Cultures develop distinct ways of dressing, different foods, types of housing, and music. The sitar is the unmistakable sound of India; the Middle East gave us the oud. When you hear that haunting melancholy tone of the erhu you recognise it immediately as Chinese. The erhu is a two-stringed bowed instrument that has a small sound box at its base that is covered with python skin. And according to Wikipedia “its characteristic sound is produced through the vibration of the python skin by bowing.”

Silk Strings are an Adelaide based group of Chinese musicians whose mission is in part to make the music known as huquin more accessible.  The erhu, or Chinese fiddle – its central instrument – has been around for centuries. A Centennial Story of the Chinese Fiddle is designed to showcase the music of the erhu from the last one hundred years.

The program delivered nine pieces in chronological order as either solo pieces, or duets with erhu and piano in the beautiful Pilgrim Uniting Church. There’s something delicious about hearing traditional Chinese music in a Christian church. The atmosphere and acoustics are perfect for this kind of performance.

The earliest piece was from 1928, and like so much of Chinese nomenclature, it has one of those poetic titles intended to impart a lesson before a note is played – Birds Singing in a Desolate Mountain. A gorgeous folk song from China’s north-east was entitled The Crescent Moon at Three in the Morning. Galloping Battle Steeds sounded as it suggests. The sounds of galloping horses is a recurring motif in music from northern China and Mongolia, and is mimicked by interesting bowing techniques.

The final three pieces were more recent arrangements for erhu and piano involving some quite intense collaboration. One was an interpretation of a gypsy tune by a Spanish composer. The final two pieces in a more modern vein had the erhu sounding more like a violin, and therefore less Chinese.

It’s understandable that musicians would want to stretch themselves and branch out into fusion or more modern forms of their genre, but it may be at the cost of losing that distinctive sound that made older forms of the genre instantly recognisable, and perhaps revered.

Beautiful music exquisitely played in a near perfect setting.

This review also published on The Clothesline.

San Ureshi and Friends - Review

This is not San Ureshi but an old man playing the
erhu in a park in Beijing.

 Nexus Arts at West Village, Sat 26 Feb.

Sometimes listening to great music induces a feeling of total serenity. And when that occurs listening to music from cultures other than your own the experience can border on mystical. The San Ureshi ensemble’s concert at Nexus Arts offered such moments. Listening to this beautifully arranged music from East Asia was like enjoying your own intimate WOMADelaide festival. This collaboration of Chinese and Japanese musical traditions seemed all the more poignant in the current geopolitical climate.

The core ensemble consists of Zhao Lieng (originally from Singapore) on guzheng or Chinese harp; David Dai (Taiwan) on erhu or Chinese violin; and Satomi Ohnishi (Japan) on percussion. One of the early pieces drew inspiration from 12^th century Japan with what sounded like the drums of battle underpinning the beautiful contrasts of the plucked harp against the bowed notes of the erhu. A cello joined the ensemble and the interplay between cello and erhu was at times exquisite. Chinese traditional singer, Cindy Fan, delivered songs in the distinctive high pitched vocal style characteristic of much Chinese folk music and transported us into the mountains of northern China.

Extra violins in the second half of the program added depth and texture to the arrangements. Behind all of these wonderful pieces was a variety of percussion sounds that were sometimes quite forceful and at other times quietly delicate: I heard horses racing across the plains, and the falling of a gentle rain. At other times rhythms were subtle and implied – quite masterful! And watching the elegant hands of Zhao Lieng pluck the strings of her harp was akin to watching the hands of a Balinese dancer.

Satomi Ohnishi’s lighthearted and often humorous introductions to each piece was the perfect counterpoint to some seriously beautiful music. It’s hard not to imagine that this group are headed for bigger and better things. Being at this concert just felt like a very special privilege.

(This review also published in The Clothesline)