CHANG Ping (b. 1972)
Oriental Wash Painting – Orchestral Suite of Four Concertos
Ji Wei (guzheng), Yu Hongmei (erhu), Zhang Qiang (pipa), Yuan Feifan (zhudi)
China National Symphony Orchestra/Lin Tao
rec. 2015, China National Centre of the Performing Arts, Beijing.
NAXOS 8.570627 [81:16]
The generation of Chinese composers who lived through the Cultural Revolution and emerged to create an entirely new and distinctive Chinese musical voice fusing elements drawn from their subsequent experiences in the West, are now giving way to a new generation of composers who celebrate a self-confident Chinese-ness in music in which the Chinese elements seem less deliberately presented and more naturally integrated. Among these is Chang Ping who was just four when the Cultural Revolution ended. He studied at the Central Conservatory of Music in Beijing and was sent to Berlin to continue his studies before returning to Beijing where he now teaches composition at the Central Conservatory. He is gradually emerging on the scene as one of the new voices in Chinese music, and to date his output includes opera and chamber music as well as this substantial score which comprises four separate concertos each featuring one traditional Chinese instrument and a western-style symphony orchestra. In his booklet note Chang describes these as “the four most representative traditional Chinese instruments”.
The first of these concertos is subtitled The Wind-Washed Clouds and features the Guzheng, commonly referred to as a the “Chinese Zither”. Composed in April 2005 and given its first performance by Ji Wei, it went on to win the Grand Prize at the 13th National Symphony Contest organised by the Chinese Ministry of Culture in 2007. The title was inspired by a Tang Dynasty poem by Du Fu which refers to storm clouds “dark as ink” and “shrouded in darkness”. Much of the music re-imagines some of the visions conjured up by the poem, including a great storm, the onset of a rain shower and the random splattering of ink on a canvas. Ji Wei has her work cut out to make any sort of impression above the tempestuous brass and percussion outburst which makes such a mighty impact at the very start of the work. Yet Chang manages to clear enough space for her to emerge with a suitably flamboyant glissando. Indeed, the Guzheng is mostly presented in dialogue with periods of extended silence, the orchestra adding its comments only after these solo sections have said what they need to say. It is a concerto of big, dramatic gestures from both soloist and orchestra, and, as the shortest of the four concertos, it is probably the one which is more concerned with effect than content. That said, this incredibly vivid recording seems enough of a speaker-breaker to warrant some kind of warning; this is really very, very loud and powerful music-making. Certainly beyond the sheer noise factor, this is a work requiring immense virtuosity form the soloist, and Ji Wei proves a particularly dazzling executant of Chang’s tireless writing.
The second concerto – The Noble Fragrance – for Erhu, also opens with deep, rumbling explosions from the percussion and builds up rapidly to a terrifying orchestral climax. The amplified erhu still has its work cut out to make its presence felt against such towering orchestral gestures, but Chang manages his orchestral forces effectively, and after the opening improvisatory statement from the erhu – a kind of early day cadenza – the writing allows the erhu to create a sense of presence through some often highly virtuoso writing. Composed in 2012 for Yu Hongmei, who makes much of the improvisatory character of the writing, the work is clearly a very demanding one technically, and the composer goes so far as to suggest it is “the touchstone for erhu performers”. The Noble Fragrance of the title is that of plum blossom, which is said in Chinese tradition to possess a “dogged personality” which is symbolic of the Chinese spirit. At around half and hour’s duration, this is by far and away the longest of the four concertos, and is, in many ways, the most complex and demanding. However, it is also the most musical interesting, with one particularly touching moment where the cor anglais allows the music to fade away and create an atmosphere of extreme tranquillity – one of the few in the entire work – out of which the erhu emerges with a deeply evocative theme. One cannot help think of Janáček in the exultant, spectacular ending of the concerto, complete with lush orchestral textures and broad-horizoned harmonies.
The third concerto – for Pipa and entitled The Movement of Wash Painting - is actually the most recent one, completed just three months before the premiere of the complete Oriental Wash Painting on 10th June 2015, at which performance this live recording was made. Chang writes that it places “high requirements on the techniques, inner control and personality of the performer”. That performer is Zhang Qiang, one of Chang’s colleagues on the staff of the Central Conservatory (as, indeed, are all the soloists in these four concertos), and one of the most internationally-recognisable Pipa players. What elements of his personality are revealed in this concerto is hard to tell, but Chang also suggests the inspiration came from a technique in Chinese ink painting in which “water, ink, brush and paper uniquely present quality, quantity and space”. The Concerto is introduced by a Pipa solo accompanied by distant and remote orchestral noises. While this builds up to some kind of climax, it is short-lived, and for the most part the Concerto showcases both the range and scope of the Pipa and Zheng’s own virtuosity through a series of extremely stylized dramatic gestures. One gathers from the applause which is included after each track that the audience at the premiere was somewhat bemused by its low-profile ending
Dating from 2014 the final concerto – Blue Lotus – is written for the bamboo flute or Zhudi and performed here by Yuan Feifan, himself a fairly well established composer in China. A series of light, flighty effects passing across the soloist and into the orchestra, seems to mimic the sound of birds, but the composer’s own explanation of the title implies that this is more a depiction of the long-stretching avenues of history, as inspired by his understanding of the Blue Lotus as “a reminder of ancient times” and “as the symbol of life”. He writes how it took a year to compose and required much revision. The result is, for my money, the most accomplished and effective concert of the four concertos, using the orchestral resources sparingly, side-stepping the big dramatic gestures of the earlier works, and exploring the unique qualities of the solo instrument rather than merely pitting it against the western orchestra.
As a single, four-section work, Oriental Wash Painting is hard going on the listener, so often resorting to extremely noisy and dramatic orchestral gestures which quickly become oppressive. Yet on their own, each Concerto has a lot to offer, and the fact that this vivid recording is performed by those for whom the various works were conceived, gives it a particularly strong level of inner involvement.
Marc Rochester
