Music begins where words end, said the famous German romanticism poet Goethe. Though fluent in two languages, I wanted to seek a deeper and more universal form of communication. This inspiration is what spurred my determination to learn an instrument.
Soon after I became financially independent, I bought a Guzheng from a small but pleasant shop, where I eagerly booked my first lessons. The road of Guzheng studying was not always laced with sunshine and flowers, especially in the basic skills training period. The practice was all tedious and tiresome; you could only hear the sound of “tang-tang-tang…” rather than the soulful Guzheng pieces as played by the masters. After a few days practice, my fingers hurt and calluses appeared on my fingertips on my left hand. However difficult the path was, I just had to meet it and live it.
My confidence and interest grew whenever I made progress since it’s always encouraging to imagine that one day I could perform at the center of a stage wearing my favorite Qi Pao, like many other Guzheng masters I adored.
Chief among my Guzheng heroes is Wang Zhongshan, crowned “China’s Guzheng King”. His name, I believe, has hindered his success. If you read the name the other way round, it represents king of the mountain. In China nowadays, when Guzheng is mentioned, people always think about the young master.
From a Zheng friend, I learned that Wang would perform at He Luting Concert Hall in Shanghai Conservatory of Music in the upcoming week. Without thinking, I reserved one ticket at a premium seat. The countdown to the performance day for me was hard as anticipation grew. Finally, it came!
Shanghai Conservatory of Music is one of the very few colleges situated in the French concession. The old Shanghai is well preserved in this region by its art nouveau characters. Within the campus, the buildings formed harmonies with the aged pine trees. They have witnessed China’s musical evolution and the greatest musicians who have cultivated the music flourished in the 20th century, including He Luting. The concert hall is named after him to commemorate his grand contribution to China’s music field.
I arrived twenty minutes before the concert started; the entrance has already been packed with Guzheng enthusiasts. The crowds kept filing into the venue, mothers with children, teachers with students, boyfriends with girlfriends, husbands with wives and, the single ones. After finding my seat, I began to wonder how the legend Guzhengnist looks. The atmosphere was filled with anxiety by the time the clock read seven thirty.
Wang still hadn’t appeared ten minutes after the scheduled starting time. There came some impatient noise from the audience, murmuring and fussing on the causes for the unpunctuality. After a while, the master of ceremony finally showed up in the limelight on the stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for presenting at Wang Zhongshan’s solo Guzheng concert. First, I would like to briefly introduce Wang…; now let’s welcome the young master.” Everyone held their breath and the time ceased for a moment until the thunderous welcoming applause broke the stillness. Wang walked out from the left side of the stage, took hold of the microphone and bowed gently to his fans. The Zhongshan suit and western-style pan made him a more academic looking. He greeted the audience with exceptional politeness. We then knew it was because of a group of forty Suzhou students, whose bus got jammed due to a car accident that caused the delay.
His gentleness and amiable personality soon eased the atmosphere and brought people back to the concert itself. The hall dimmed with only a string of light featuring the stage center.
The opening piece was “The rhythm of Han River” (Han Jiang Yun). Like other watershed areas, Han River has nurtured generations of residences living alongside. Composer Qiao Jinwen created the music immix with He Nan’s local opera tone. The bright vivacious strain depicts the happiness and impassioned scene of working people. Wang hails from He Nan, so he has a special affection with this song thus always brings to his concerts home and abroad.
Wang walked to the center again with four female Guzheng accompaniments dressing in red, white, blue and pink Qi Pao separately. It was such a visual feast that almost drove my attention away from the performance itself. When the music started, the energy from the whole space suddenly came to the twenty-one strings. We, like disarmed soldiers, were captured and captivated by his magic music world.
The second small piece “Wine Mad” (Jiu Kuang) is one of the most popular melodies in the modern Guqin repertoire. Wang has successfully adapted it into Guzheng music. With the rhythm of early Chinese music, Wang musically referred the bohemian poet, drinker and recluse Ruan Ji.
Nobody can do everything well, including a concert Guzhengnist. Even though Wang had tried to represent the sadness of “Hometown affection” (Xiang Yun) at full stream, my mind couldn’t give him a full mark, which was preconceived by Yuan Sha, another Guzhengnist’s interpretation.
“When wind starts to blow, the world gets pretty. Tears drop with thankfulness, rather than the scattered rain. Heart, like a vine row, climbs upwards, and I, feel the spring rhythm with the green impulse.” Wang Zhongshan is an outstanding poet besides being the Guzheng king, which was beyond my expectation. However, all art forms have connections. He composed the music of “Heart pulse” out of his thankfulness heart to the world and this night, it deeply affected the audience.
Though the history has brought Chinese people out of the extremely obsessive era for Peking Opera, it is still popular among the nation. As flamenco to Spanish, Peking Opera has been genuinely implanted into Chinese people’s blood. “Deep Night” is such a masterpiece that made everyone so cheerful and all of a sudden, people have forgotten the sadness and museful emotion from the last few pieces.
With heavy applause and flower bouquets, the concert flew into a half-time break. I walked out of the seat and took a small path to breath in flesh air. People were discussing the past performance, everyone was enjoying.
Fifteen minutes was not long, soon we came to the second half of the performance. “Dance of Yi Tribe” (Yi Zu Wu Qu) was his first well-known work. Wang has added more flavor to the original Pi Pa music by his exceptional techniques and expression.
Broken string indicates the encounter of bosom friends. The old Chinese saying unpredictably happened to the piece that Wang wrote to his respectful mentor Li Wanfen who led him into the golden career. As one of the most fruitful teachers himself, his thankfulness to his mentor has affected us as well as the strings.
“The death” built in Tibet music style while the last piece “Yellow River Spirit” represented Chinese people’s admiration to our mother river. The chords move like waves surging in the sea. After Wang’s last note, the audience were cheered up and asked him for one more.
“I haven’t had supper yet”, Wang’s humorous words made everyone laugh, “but to show my appreciation, I’ll play one more. And this time, I’ll play an easy but the most representative Guzheng piece – Yu Zhou Chang Wan (fishing boats in twilight)”. Different from the previous repertoires, this was very relaxing and peaceful.
However, the audiences were still not satisfied, master was also very grateful for the thrilling scene. He exceptionally accepted the request of playing one more, which he did high score at his early career – Hunting tigers in the mountain, which has push the atmosphere to the peak.
Wang has conquered the audience with both his talents and character. With the conclusion of the concert, I was still indulged in after sound of his powerful music.
I walked on Huaihai Road, from the French concession to People’s Square. The neon lights have brightened the night road, while the sound of “Fishing boats in twilight” echoed from a remote area…
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