There are influences and
there are influences. I’ve been influenced in some sense
by everything I’ve ever heard, and especially by the
various phases of appreciation (and obsession) I’ve gone
through. Nonetheless, some contributors stand out in
that their influence has become a vital part of how I
play the qin, recognizable and
indispensable. In the world of Chinese music, while I’ve
taken cues from everything from pastoral ocarinas to
resurrected bronze bell ensembles, it’s the
qin
players who
dominate.
1. First I have to put Wu
Wenguang
吳文光 (1946-),
who has done more than any other single musician to shape
my playing. WWG has gotten some other mentions on this
site; check there for specific points about his style. What
I most admire about his renditions is their “searching”
quality, the sense that he is feeling his way through each
note and experiencing it anew, no matter how many times he
has played a given piece. His playing encompasses
astonishing extremes of light and heavy, bright and dark,
deliberate and headlong; he has been called a “modern
literatus”, and this captures well his simultaneous
innovative spirit and deep traditionalism. WWG is something
of a “dark horse” player in today’s qin
world, eremitically
inclined and so less visible than other players of
comparable ability. Nonetheless, those “in the know” tend
to agree on the sophistication and intensity of his
playing, and Gong Yi himself (!) is reported to have sought
WWG’s instruction in recent years.
2. Then there’s everybody’s favorite, Li
Xiangting
李祥霆 (1940-),
perhaps the most famous qin
player alive. You
can learn all about his biography and accomplishments on
many other sites. There appear to be two rather different
LXTs—the traditional LXT and the improvising LXT. LXT’s
renderings of traditional pieces are singular in their
strength, angularity, and even ferocity. Indeed, at first I
was turned off by his playing, thinking that it violated
the subtlety I prized in qin
music. While I
still find some of his decisions puzzling, and am not sure
about his reasons for playing in this way, I have warmed up
to his style considerably. LXT’s characteristic forest of
energy conceals tonal, rhythmic, and inflectional
intricacies fully in line with the best the tradition has
to offer. Beyond his traditional work, LXT has broken
entirely new ground in his gradual cultivation of a
sophisticated, flexible method for improvising on
the qin. The results range from
adequate to awe-inspiring. In the past five years LXT
appears to be focusing on improvisation more and more, and
I see much of the “future of the qin” in his efforts. Although I
admire and study closely his improvisations, in one area
they seem to fall short: that of developing a
formal
framework for the generation of melodies,
something sorely needed in Chinese music. Such a framework
would ensure greater consistency and help avoid
repetitiousness and unstructuredness.
I’m afraid there’s no number 3 as yet. I have been brought
to my knees by many qin
masters, both past
(Guan Pinghu, Wu Jinglüe, Zha Fuxi, Zhang Ziqian, Liu
Shaochun, Wu Zhaoji, Xu Yuanbai, Yao Bingyan) and present
(Gong Yi, Cheng Gongliang, Xie Daoxiu, Dai Xiaolian, Zeng
Chengwei, Wang Huade). Each has something interesting and
unique to contribute, and I plan on assimilating them
systematically at various later times. Recently, however, I
have been focusing quite concertedly on plumbing the styles
of WWG and LXT. I see these as a kind of “hard center”
around which the rest can accrete, and which new trends
must infect to take hold. These two by themselves cover a
lot of range, with WWG contributing mantic vision,
combinatoric precision, and elusive softness (among other
features!), while LXT contributes athleticism, hard edges,
and of course that marvelous improvisational
sensibility.