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FRANKKOUWENHOVEN
Meaning and structure - the case of
Chinese qin (zither) music
1 For Ji Kang's essay, "Music has No Sorrowor Joy", see De Woskin (1982:104, 117); and
Egan (1997); for his "Poetical Essay on the Qin", see Gulik (1969a) or (in French)
Goormaghtigh(1990). Ji's famous essay on the qin in many ways supplements, from the
specific angle of qin music, his more generalideas aboutmusic and emotion.
42 BRITISH JOURNAL OF ETH NO M US IC OLOGY VOL.10/i 2001
intellectual giant like Tao with a face, perhaps showing his courage or
determination, or moral uprightness. We might depict him holding the main
emblem of his wisdom - the qin - in his hands. On the Chinese scroll he is
characteristically reduced to the size of an ant. Apart from his implied status in
human society (master rather than servant), he could be any man, reduced to
near-nothingness in his confrontation with the overwhelming powers of nature.
There is no evidence that qin players were ever really fond of climbing
mountains and exposing their instrument to severe cold, stormy wind or trips
over slippery stone paths. Written recommendations existed in the Ming
dynasty (1368-1644 CE) which list, among ideal situations for playing the qin,
"sitting on a stone", "having climbed a mountain", "resting in a valley",
"resting in a forest", etc. Additionally, there are regulations, from the Song
dynasty (960-1279 CE)and possibly earlier, which specify that one should not
play the qin "when there is wind and thunder, or in rainy weather" (Liang
44 BRITISH JOURNAL OF ETHNOMUSICOLOGY VOL.1 0/i 2001
1972:141). It appears that most of these rules were made by Daoist monks who
dwelled in temples and secluded spots and who felt an overriding need to live
by strict regulations. Some of them may indeed have played outdoors, in quiet
scenic spots, but the documents say little or nothing about the ambiance in
which most qin players in China actually played the instrument.
The soft-toned qin is not really suited for playing outdoors, except perhaps
on a summer evening in a quiet garden. But so powerful are the traditional
images, so persuasive the intended symbolism, that modem qin players appear
on CD covers playing the instrument in "nature", against a backdrop of flowing
water, rocks or a bamboo grove, while, in reality, very few of them would be
inclined to go outdoors to play the instrument.
In the winter of 1998, when I interviewed some forty qin players in Beijing,
Shanghai and Chengdu, I found myself travelling from one noisy urban back-
yard to another, visiting the musicians in small apartments in busy neighbour-
hoods. Small wonder that some players dream of roaming mountain land-
scapes! But only Zheng Chengwei (in Chengdu) and Lin Youren (in Shanghai)
confessed a genuine interest in - occasionally - playing the qin outdoors on
solitary mountain walks, and only Yu Bosun (near Chengdu) was observed in
the act of playing his qin in a garden pavilion. (That must may have been a
more common practice in the past, when more literati could afford gardens.)
KOUWENHOVEN Meaning and structure - the case of Chinese qin (zither) music 45
1 A 44-4-
*
It 4ro t' I
Figure 5 Hand-postures from the fifteenth century qin handbook Taigu Yiyin,with their
suggested correlates in nature: a leopard holding a smaller animal, perhaps a rabbit,
and a crane calling in the shade. The accompanying texts explain the technicalities of
the postures in detail and provide poetic and metaphoric descriptions of the essence of
the posture. The leopard symbolizes an attitude "in-between relaxation and ferocity".
The crane's bright call is "reminiscentof ancient tunes", and it merits emulation, "but
take heed: the higher you soar, the more the harmonywillfade"
Suffice it to say that images from nature and mythology abound in qin organ-
ology: parts of the qin have been given names like "immortal's shoulders",
"dragon's toothgums", "phoenix' eye", "goose feet", "dragon's pond", etc. Its
concave upper surface and its flat bottom are said to symbolize heaven and
earth. Even the patterns of cracks which, in due course, appear on the coat of
varnish that covers the qin have been given names relating to nature: "serpent
belly cracks", "cow's hair", "turtleback", or "crackedice".
Sometimes the music of the qin directly imitates certain sounds, such as the
flowing of water, the singing of birds, the flapping of birds' wings, or the drip-
ping of a woman's tears. The hand and finger postures of the player frequently
correlate with the shapes of animals or trees. In the Taigu yiyin of 1413, we
find descriptions like "the leopard catching its prey", "a crane calling in the
shade", "the lonely duck looking for the flock", or "the fish beating its tail"
(see Figure 5). The drawings contained in the book serve as mnemonic devices,
but also as metaphorical extensions of certain ideas from qin philosophy or as
poetical clarifications of the intentions of specific postures (strength, deter-
mination, "lingering", tranquillity, inactivity, alertness, etc.). More important
than any of these outward imitations and references to the natural world is the
ability of the instrumentto capture the spiritual essence or "mood" (yijing) of a
piece. The player ideally attempts to reproduce as faithfully as possible the
mood intended by the composer (Gulik 1969b:88; Yung 1987:84-5; 1998:3).
Yet this mood can only become evident from the programmatic content, as
specified in titles and subtitles and literary prefaces that accompany the
musical notations of qin pieces: no matter how metaphysical the performer's
goal, the path towards it leads along concrete mountains, animals, narrative
charactersand events. The stories of qin lore are a key factor in the process that
will turn a mere musical (or gymnastic) exercise into a process of spiritual
elevation. This explains, in part, why the literary element in the tradition is
given such a tremendous weight. Before taking a closer look at some of the
stories, let me say a few words about the scores, the overall character of the
music, and the ways in which the qin repertoirehas changed over time.
music are marked, but there are few indications of rhythm or metre. This is to
some extent comparable to the way in which early medieval music in the West
was written down - there is a parallel especially with fifteenth-century lute
music, which was also notated in tablature, and which contained only limited
rhythmical markings (Ivanoff 1997:8, 11-13).
In the course of the seventeenth century, qin players in China began to
record their fingerings in increasingly sophisticated ways. But rhythm - with
the exception of a few formulae - was still not indicated. It has been argued
that rhythmical freedom in performance is a major and conscious feature of the
qin tradition: the same melody can be played in many different ways,
depending on the interpretationof its prosody, and no repeated performance of
a qin piece will ever sound exactly the same (Lee 1995; Mitani 1981:126-34;
Yung 1994). The process of translating the unmeasured and free qin notations
into versions for use in performance, with more definite rhythmical contours, is
called dapu.
The freedom of rhythm has been interpretedby some as a musical reflection
of the players' aspirations for spiritual loftiness. Perhaps too much has been
made of this particular aspect in scholarly writings on qin performance. Qin
players may decide to reshape and remould certain pieces according to their
own understanding, but they still work within an established framework of
rhythmical formulae and metrical conventions, and are certainly not reinvent-
ing the traditionevery time they touch the instrument.Different ways of playing
a tune like Yangguansandie (as shown in Mitani 1981:127-8) normally do not
result in more (or less) variation than, say, different performance versions of
the tune Greensleeves among Western singers or instrumentalists.
The principle of rhythmical flexibility in qin music is roughly comparable
to that of any music in parlando-rubato style, from eighteenth-century French
harpsichord music to gypsy fiddle tunes. Indeed, in deciphering old notations
and preparing them for performance (if no oral precedent is available), qin
players face a challenge comparable to that of Western instrumentalistswho try
to perform the French lute preludes or (more complex) French harpsichord
preludes from the times of Denis Gaultier to Louis Couperin - pieces written in
sequences of whole notes, which leave the players free, without metric
constraint, to invent their own pace and rhythmic divisions (Tilney 1995).
Usually, after a few playings, sequentially repeated melodic fragments in these
preludes begin to emerge. The same may happen in qin music, when a score is
brought to life in the dapu process.
The rubato-like nature of the melodic flow in qin pieces may suggest vocal
origins for a great deal of qin music. In ancient sources there is frequent
reference to the qin as an accompanying instrument in vocal music, and some
styles of qin playing - such as the Qinling style of Nanjing - are reportedly
influenced by the ornaments and vocal techniques of specific singing styles
(Liang 1972:120).
In view of its rhythmical properties, it is an attractive idea to interpret qin
music as a Chinese equivalent of the stilo fantastico of the Western Renais-
sance and Baroque periods, with its connotations of rhetorical speech and
48 BRITISH JOURNAL OF ETHNOMUSICOLOGY VOL. 1 0/i 2001
Rapid change
On the whole, the qin repertoire as it sounds today deviates in many ways from
historical traditions. Many changes emerged in the process of oral trans-
mission, and there was a considerable amount of reinvention in the recreation
of ancient scores. The transition from silk strings to metal strings in the 1950s
resulted not only in a louder sound and a longer period of resonance but also in
entirely new possibilities for expression. The influx of Western (notably
KOUWENHOVEN Meaning and structure - the case of Chinese qin (zither) music 49
classical) music in China has had a major impact on numerous Chinese musical
traditions, not only in terms of changes in the construction of instruments. Qin
players in the People's Republic have begun to mark the transitions between
various sections in the qin pieces in very dramatic ways, by sudden changes in
tempo, by vigorous accents or shifts in dynamics. The resulting pieces are very
different from the versions that were played only a few decades ago. Players of
the older generation frequently moved from one section to the next almost
imperceptibly, in a fairly rigid beat and a single tempo that was maintained
throughout an entire piece. The new dramatic (some would say "romantic")
approach to qin music has created a very different musical landscape, if not an
entirely new repertoire. It has given qin music a new plasticity and a more
dynamic breadth. It has won over new audiences for the qin and has led to an
unprecedented wealth of sound recordings, an unprecedented amount of public
attention, even though the number of genuine qin aficionados remains small in
comparison to that of active supporters of other Chinese solo instrumental
traditions such as the pipa and the zheng. All this has happened at the cost of
some of the qin's traditional "intimacy", its richness of kinesthetic experiences
and its reputation as a private scholarly activity (Yung 1984:512; 1998). John
Thompson and others have suggested that a good deal of the former timbral
richness of the instrument is lost now that many performers no longer make use
of silk strings (which are rich in overtones). Bell Yung speaks for those who
deplore the transition from silk strings to metal strings and who criticize the
metamorphosis of an instrument (and an emblem) of private scholarly sophis-
tication into a "mere" musical instrument for the "masses" (due to the cultural
policies and mass ideology of the Communist government):
... qin music has stepped out of the privacy and intimacy of the scholar-
gentleman's study and climbed onto the stage of the public concert hall. In
so doing, qin music has become like other kinds of music: its main function
is to please a large, public audience ... On the stage of a concert hall, he
[the qin player] is judged by an audience- the workers,peasants, soldiers -
who are, for historical reasons, relatively uninitiatedin the music and its
literarycontent.
(Yung 1998:5)
Most certainly there were attempts to popularize qin - for example via sound
amplification - or by using the qin as a star vehicle for virtuosic soloists
accompanied by symphony orchestra. But the instrument's current (still very
modest) success in the People's Republic, as well as abroad, does not depend
on amplification or on symphonic concerts, even less on political propaganda.
It is primarily the legacy of a handful of gifted artists who managed to give a
new impetus to the tradition. Players like Wu Jingliie impressed their listeners,
not because they turned the qin into an instrument of mass ideology but
because they had something new and important to say. These individualists, as
much as their famous predecessors of the past, determine the current
development and public appreciation of qin music.
50 BRITISH JOURNAL OF ETHNOMUSICOLOGY VOL. 10/i 2001
Those who attend the (rare) concerts in China today would have some
difficulty identifying themselves as "workers, peasants, soldiers". They are
mostly intellectuals with a personal background or professional education in
music, and far from eulogizing the Chinese government's attitude towards the
qin, they tend to deplore the present scarcity of qin concerts and the appalling
lack of formal (governmental) support for qin players (cf. Cheng 1997.) Only a
few qin players in China are formally employed at music conservatoires, and
few or no funds are available for the preservation of precious ancient instru-
ments or for a more active promotion of the tradition (e.g. via television or
educational programmes).
I sympathize with some of Bell Yung's concerns - for example, I don't
think the qin works very well in symphonic concerts or as a "new age"
instrument, in combination with synthesizers, pianos or rock bands - but if the
qin needs any protection, it is not from such experiments but rather from some
of the more zealous devotees who continue to promote an atmosphere of semi-
sectarianism and impotent nostalgia (to borrow a phrase coined by Theodor
Adomo). The element of sectarianism may have ancient roots, but that can
hardly be a justification for perpetuating it. Spiritual greatness is not a pre-
rogative of the past, and there is no reason why qin music ought to remain a
privilege of the learned few, or a single-minded type of tradition.
It may be true that many aspects of the qin can only be appreciated by the
"initiated". It may be true that certain qin tones, particularly if played on silk
strings, can only be perceived through the qin player's hand movement or the
tactile sense of the finger, as Bell Yung points out, and that some qin players
would therefore decline to play for a general audience who would not be able
to appreciate such elements:
Zither players are generally reluctantto play for anyone who is not also a
zither player ... Only other zither players can understandthe kinesthetic
experience and share it, even though to a limited extent, with the performer.
Seen in this light, the recent trend in China of staging zither performances
for a large audience in a huge auditoriumis altering a fundamentalfeature
of the zithertradition.
(Yung 1984:514)
But the fact is that most qin recitals in China take place in fairly small rooms,
for a mere handful of listeners (with the exception of some symphonic
concerts). The intimacy has not disappeared, and (judging from my own inter-
views) it is simply not true that most zither players are "reluctant"to play for
anyone who is not also a zither player. Some are hesitant to play on a stage
because they lack concert experience, and it may be a difficult task to recreate
in a concert hall something of the intimate atmosphere of a scholar's room, but
(as a growing number of qin players in China and in the West have shown) it
can be done.
The touch of the instrument is certainly unique, but the same applies to the
violin, the lute and so many other musical instruments. In trying to discuss
aspects of posture and attack of the strings on the part of, say, a great violin
KOUWENHOVEN Meaning and structure - the case of Chinese qin (zither) music 51
master, one soon finds oneself pushed beyond the sheer technicalities of the
matter, into the realm of the poetic and the near-inexpressible. This should not
prevent anyone who is not a violin player from enjoying violin music in their
own ways. The kinesthetic elements in qin may be pronounced, but in practice
the act of playing the qin is no more intensely physical (or metaphysical!) than
that of (say) playing the violin, and it would be silly to argue that the element
of sound, in the case of the qin, is so imperfectly conveyed that it cannot be and
ought not be enjoyed by listeners in its own right.
The growing popularity of qin music and the rapidly growing number of
sound recordings attests to the special appeal of the qin as a musical instru-
ment. The future of the qin could even be brighter if contemporary composers
in China were willing to accept the qin as a "mere"musical instrument, instead
of looking at it as an ancient, remote and forbidding tradition that is better not
touched upon. As a consequence, very few composers write new pieces for the
qin. Blissful ignorance is the beginning of many a musical dialogue, but too
much ignorance (that is, too much blind veneration) won't do the qin much
good.
subtitles of the tune Liezi yufeng ("Liezi riding on the wind") as they occur in
the Shenqi Mipu (1425 CE). The translationis by Gulik (1969b:90):
1. Resting upon emptiness,ridingon the wind
2. Looking down on the earth
3. The universeis spreadout vast
4. I do not know whetherthe wind is ridingon me
5. Or whetherI am riding on the wind
6. The mind dwells on mysteriousplains
7. The spiritroams in greatpurity
8. Whistling long in the vast azure
9. Shakingone's clothes in the breeze
10. Having attainedthe utmost ecstasy, turningback
Programme notes like these are generally respected and taken into account by
qin players in their performances. In my interviews with qin players - part of
ongoing work on a future publication - I found that the spirit of the poems and
the stories in the old handbooks is still duly honoured by contemporaryplayers,
even in the People's Republic of China. Even many young players who have
grown away from the old tradition in so many respects - the notion of the qin
as an instrument for private meditation ratherthan public performance may not
be meaningful to them any more - state that the explanations in the handbooks
still serve for them as a tool for understanding the correct "mood" of the
pieces. Admittedly, after mastering the music - i.e. after mastering the tech-
niques and learning the melodies by heart - they may be content to follow their
own line of thought in performance.
The division into sections - a recurrentfeature of qin scores - is of practical
help in determining the overall structureof pieces. In many cases, sections are
melodically recognizable as separate units (by the repeated occurrence of
themes, motives or gestures), but not always. A lot of qin music is fairly rhap-
sodic: musical events may be related only in broad terms (by shared modal
features or by a shared basic "emotion"), and emphasis on timbral and orna-
mental detail can become such a dominant element that some of the music may
even be experienced mainly on a note-by-note, or a gesture-by-gesture basis:
There are so many differenttouches and variationsin tone productionthat it
is necessary to concentratefully on what one is doing. It is almost necessary
to think of one pitch at a time, and not the whole melodic line, or a phrase.
(Liang 1972:136)
The molecular, isolated and isometric appearance of the graphs [in qin
notation]conveys a sense of successive and complete moments, ratherthan
a sense of linear continuity.This, I believe, reflects the essential sense of
time in qin performance.A percussiveburstof sound will be expressed in a
single graph, and a long glide will be expressed in a single graph. Thus,
whereas the graphsare spatiallyfungible, the correspondingperformanceis
not so in terms of movementor sound.
(De Woskin 1982:130)
KOUWENHOVEN Meaning and structure - the case of Chinese qin (zither) music 53
attempts to reconcile the supposedly positive mood of the music with the sad
story behind it. One qin player claims that his lively performance of the piece
is an evocation not so much of the tragic fate of the homesick Zhaojun, but of
"the pleasurable entertainmentin the palace of [her husband]."3 Another source
suggests that the beginning and ending of the music are gloomy, reflecting
Zhaojun's sadness, while the lively middle section depicts her charm and
beauty.4
If one compares Long xiang cao as played by Guan Pinghu (who inter-
preted the piece as a lament)5 with Zhang Ziqian's performance,6one may note
that the latter tends to treat the rhythms of Long xiang cao in a rather more
abrupt and jerky way, presumably in line with his view of the piece as happy
and spirited music.
Note on sources: Qiu sai yin; Shui xian cao; Sao shou wen tian
The oldest survivingscore of Qiu sai yin ("Autumngrievancesbeyond the frontier")
stems from the Xing ZhuangTaiYinBu Yi,a handbookof 1557. But the piece as it is
known today is usually played in differentversions,based on a notationcontainedin
the WuZhiZai Qinpuof 1722. In the Zi YuanTangQinpuof 1802, it is called Shuixian
cao ("[Musicof the] WaterSpirit").Othersources refer to it as Sao shou wen tian
("Scratchingone's head, appealing to heaven"). For some programmaticalinter-
pretations,see the sleeve-notesof Chine:L'artdu Qin, Li Xiangting,Ocora,C 560001
HM 83, 1990; Eminentpieces for guqin vols. 1 and 4, Wind Records,Taipei, 1994,
TCD-1015and 1016; and WaterImmortal,qin solos by Lau Chor-wah(Liu Chuhua),
ROI,HK, 1996,RA-961008C
The earliest survivingnotation of Long shuo cao stems from the Shenqi Mipu
(1425) wherea brief commentis added,statingthatthe "ancientname"of the piece is
(or used to be) ZhaojunYuan,"WangZhaojun'slament".In Long shuo cao, the title
given to the actual music notation,there is a minor mistake in the writing of the
charactershuo,causingit to look like the characterxiang.This may havecontributedto
the subsequentconfusionbetweenthe two namesLongxiang cao andLongshuo cao.
The same piece (with some modificationsin the music) is includedin the Xing
ZhuangTaiYinBu Yiof 1557, wherethe musicnotationis headedLongshuo cao, while
the piece is referredto in the tableof contentsas Longxiang cao - presumablyanother
mistakein writing.Followingthis, the ZhongXiu ZhenZhuanof 1585 incorporatesthe
music with its more ancienttitle Zhaojunyuan, presumablyin reverenceof ancient
times,andto honourthe well-knownTangdynastyheroineWangZhaojun,andit addsa
remarkthatthe piece is also knownas Longxiang cao. Fromthis momentonward,the
that "the frequent and incessant cawing of the crow(s) in the music is
contrasted sharply with the quiet melody in harmonics".8 In other words, it is
not the harmonics that imitate the birds' cries, but the melodic gestures in-
between. In one of the oldest surviving qin handbooks, the Zheyin Shizi Qinpu
(1475), the music of the beginning allegedly portrays a pair of birds dancing
together, while the harmonics as they occur later on in the piece portray a
group of young birds flying south. In brief, the links between images and
musical gestures in qin pieces are not always defined very consistently.
The same goes for the interpretation of entire musical sections. For
example, compare the following two versions of the piece Ping sha luo yan
("Wild geese descending on a sandbank"),of which the scores in two different
handbooks contain grossly conflicting statements about when the geese ascend
or descend, where and when in the music they honk or flap their wings, etc.
There is little agreement about what happens in any of the sections, except for
section VI, where we can hear either "mixed cries" or "various noises".
Unfortunately, the music of that very section is the one part that really appears
to be totally different in both scores. The Mei'an score has a unique part in this
place, unlike anything else in qin literature, a very evocative section, quite
possibly an effective attempt to imitate noisy birds.
Listeners who wish to compare recorded interpretations of the two scores,
8 See sleeve notes to Xiao Xiang shui yun. Chinese guqin solos performed by Wu Wen
Guang, gramophonerecord,ChinaRecord Co, Beijing 1984, DL-0074.
58 BRITISH JOURNAL OF ETHNOMUSICOLOGY VOL.1 0/i 2001
could for example consult Zhang Ziqian's rendering of the Jiao'an Qinpu score
on the Hugo label (with a bamboo flute playing along), and Tao Zhushen's
interpretation of the Mei'an Qinpu score, recorded on the cassette accom-
panying Fredric Lieberman's A Chinese zither tutor of 1983. (Lieberman's
book includes a Western staff notation of the Mei'an Qinpu version.)9
For many listeners, it will be difficult on the whole to connect this music
with its suggested programmatic images, except in terms of a general mood or
atmosphere of peacefulness. The flying and honking of the geese seem largely
to serve as symbols for spiritual harmony. Indeed, this is how many qin players
interpretthe programme. But then why go to such length to describe the details
of what happens in every part of the piece ?
The projection of images and events on to the music is primarily a matter of
literary play, an intellectual activity - no doubt an important activity, a major
element of the tradition, not just a trivial one, and in many cases a process that
is very much incorporated in the act of composing the music. But even as an
independent creative act it is taken very seriously. Some scholars go so far as to
speculate about every tiny gesture in the music, and how it expresses extra-
musical phenomena. A music essay by Xiao Lili, quoted in the sleeve notes of
David Liang Ming-Yueh's gramophone record Musik fur Ch'in (Liang 1975)
has the following explanatory table for musical gestures in the piece Ping sha
luo yan ("Wild geese descending on a sandbank"):
9 Guanglingqin music (vol.1), Hugo HRP 7139-2, Hong Kong, 1987/1996), track6,
Zhang
Ziqian, qin, with Dai Shuhong, xiao. Fredric Lieberman's A Chinese Zither Tutor, The
Mei-an ch'in-p'u. Hong Kong UP / University of WashingtonPress, 1983. Accompanying
cassette, side A, item 4, Ping sha luo yan, played by Tao Zhushen, qin. Recording date
unknown.
KOUWENHOVEN Meaning and structure - the case of Chinese qin (zither) music 59
This may be a legitimate theoretical exercise, but I doubt that most qin
players are interested, in practice, to pursue the matter this far, and to
reproduce every single movement of the geese in such a mechanical fashion.
and they do not determine musical meaning. In Chinese temple music worship-
pers frequently sing or play specific tunes which are prescribed to com-
municate specific messages to the gods. The meanings of those tunes cannot so
simply be changed, because they are linked to specific parts of ritual
ceremonies. Naturally, any genre and musical tradition is open to (re)-
negotiation of its non-musical connotations, but the variety of supposed
meanings of a given repertoire is likely to increase when music becomes dis-
engaged from a very specific functional context, and notably when its perfor-
mance turns into play for the sake of play. (I mentioned work songs and temple
music because these genres served as two important sources of inspiration for
qin music. In the past, many popular songs and temple tunes found their way
into the qin repertoire and obtained a wealth of new meanings in the process.)
The qin was eagerly promoted by people who loved to read and write and
who did not even necessarily play the instrument very proficiently. Some were
only able to pluck the open strings of the qin, or took satisfaction merely in
displaying their qins on a wall, as readily available status symbols and cheap
(or not so cheap) emblems of their imagined intellectual "superiority". In
addition to this, they also liked to add their own poems and ideas to the qin
tradition. In the seventeenth century, many literary qin aficionados were almost
as effective as genuine composers and performers in changing the face of qin
music: by adding innovative aesthetical ideas and new interpretations to
existing qin scores, they invited qin players to approach the repertoire in new
ways, and by so doing they ushered in a new era of great flourishing for the
qin. This great marriage of music and meaning must have been exhilarating and
deeply inspiring, for the literary as much as for the musically oriented. For all I
can see, this marriage continues to bear fruit at present.
But regardless of all literary input, the delicate sound of the instrument
should have the final say. Whether we are listening to ardent proponents of silk
strings, or to mainland Chinese players in robust and outspoken metal-string
performances, the qin, in the vast majority of cases, makes a virtue mainly of
its fragility, its evasive qualities, ratherthan - as in the romanticized, imaginary
past - its sturdy magical powers and cosmic aspirations. Listeners are lured -
and must have been lured for a good many centuries - primarily by its softness
of sound and by the questioning, seemingly inconsistent and vaporous nature of
the music: the qin enchants as much by what it says as by what it neglects or
refuses to explain.
References
Cheng, Yu (1997) "The precarious state of the qin in contemporary China: The
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