One of the few British composers and conductors to be based in Mainland China, Nicholas Michael Smith talks about his experiences of music-making over 30 years, and his latest stage work created in collaboration with children’s writer Hong Ying, soon to be presented in London.
Can you talk a bit about your personal musical background? What first drew you to composition?
I’m not sure what started me off composing. When I was a kid, I had piano lessons and also sang in my local church choir, so music was a big part of my life. I remember starting to scribble music as early as primary school. Not that it was any good at that time. I vividly remember my first formal composition lesson, given to me by Sefton Cottom at Pocklington School. His first comment was: “you do like your second inversion chords, don’t you”. That’s always stuck with me. But the urge to write music has always been stronger for me than the urge to perform it, although paradoxically in China I’ve done much more performing than writing until recently.
Having lived in China since 1994, what led to the decision to be based there? Can you talk a little about your musical career in China up to now?
At least until 2008, China was the hot place to be, and until the early 2000s, the music industry in China was very restricted, so it was interesting to push the boundaries and see what I could contribute. It was exciting to work in a place that was essentially still new to classical music: back then, virtually anything one programmed that was even slightly off the beaten path had a good chance of being a China premiere. The musical community was welcoming and interested to explore new things, so it was a heady time to be in Beijing.
I started in Beijing by conducting a local amateur choir and, with friends from the Central Conservatory, founding a professional chamber ensemble. Later I set up a choral society made up of both Chinese and expatriates (which for a while even had a sister group in Shanghai), and the professional chamber ensemble eventually morphed into a professional chamber orchestra. From the late 1990s to around 2012, Beijing’s two main concert halls were run by a man with a vision, and it was possible to do all kinds of creative projects. I was even involved with China’s first Messiah from Scratch.
Of course, the longer one stays, the deeper one’s roots grow, and that is what seems to have happened to me, without my ever really being aware of how much time has passed. Until 2020, I was doing much more performing than composing. The changes in Chinese society brought about by Covid have now reversed that situation – I’m doing much more composing and very little performing at the moment.
Your new opera The Stone God is your latest collaboration with Chinese author Hong Ying. Can you talk a little about your work together?
Our collaboration started out as a non-musical one. Hong Ying asked me to be the translator for a series of children’s stories she was writing about a little boy called Sangsang and his adventures – set in the magical old Kingdom of Ba, intersecting with 1970s Chongqing, where Hong Ying grew up. I couldn’t say no, and I’m glad I didn’t try. After the first story was published, Hong Ying had an opportunity to create a performance piece and, completely out of the blue, she asked me to write the music for it. I had no idea she even knew any of my music, but in her words “you are a father, so you’ll get it right”. Again, I couldn’t resist.
In the end I decided to turn the music I had already written into a companion piece for Peter and the Wolf, and that’s how The Girl From The French Fort received its first performances. I orchestrated it for essentially the same size orchestra, and local audiences here seem to enjoy it. It’s even been performed in Chongqing, but my favourite performance so far was at the Shanghai Oriental Art Center, when a local storyteller took on the role of narrator. The kids in the audience were spellbound, and I was very much humbled. The idea for the opera came about as I was translating the third book in the series. I thought the elements of mistaken identity, a statue that comes to life, the need to right ancient wrongs, a pure heart saving the day and some great chorus moments would make for a terrific sing, so this became my China lockdown project.
What kind of opera can audiences expect? Can you give us an idea of the scenario?
Some of my friends here have expressed concern that the music for The Stone God going to sound like traditional Chinese opera. It isn’t at all: I’m a very tonal composer. As for the story – well, it’s set in Chongqing, and ancient city that sprawls from the edges of the water up the sides of the cloud-piercing mountains where the Yangtze and Jialing rivers meet. Chongqing is an extraordinary jumble of old and new, as is the story of the opera. Two stone lions have been taken away from the statue they belong to. That statue, which has been sitting at a roadside shrine for a thousand years, just happens to be a powerful war god, temporarily imprisoned in stone for indiscretions committed at the court of heaven, and he ain’t happy his lions have been taken. So when he sees the person he thinks is the perpetrator running around, living her modern life to the full, he decides to take revenge. Except it’s a case of mistaken identity, and it’s up to Sangsang, a thoroughly modern boy (though traditionally brought up), to figure out why his new friend has been struck down with illness – and save the day if he can.
Hong Ying’s story seems influenced by Chinese mythology, but also frequently makes reference to Chinese 20th-century history. Are these things you’ve been drawn to creatively too?
Yes, I am interested in these things – they have been a part of my life for more than 30 years. Chinese mythology is very much alive still in everyday life here, though it is not overtly on display. It requires patience to see and to connect with. I spent time in the 1990s living in the Chinese countryside, and Chongqing in the 70s would not have been dissimilar. I wanted to write this opera to share what I have learned about the Chinese people – I want to give a sense through the music and the story of what it feels like to live here and be a part of Chinese life.
What kind of musical approach did you take in The Stone God? Have you incorporated any traditional Chinese music or instruments?
I have not made use of any actual Chinese folk songs, though I do quote a tune by Xian Xinghai at one point, and the music does contain occasional references to other Chinese music, though these are not obvious, and I don’t want them to be. The things that sound a little like Chinese folk songs are all me. In terms of instrumentation, rather than use Chinese instruments, which would limit the possibilities for performance, I have used a marimba to hint at the thrumming sound that a traditional Chinese instrument ensemble makes. The score does call for Chinese percussion instruments in some places, and I hope will make those moments suitably exciting!
Can you talk a bit more about the wider musical landscape in China? How has western classical music developed there over the past few decades?
The last 30 years saw an explosion of interest in Western classical music, from the number of people learning the piano to the construction of literally hundreds of Western-style concert halls, and the establishment of at least 20 new full time symphony orchestras. This massive expansion needs to be viewed in the context of China’s overall development though. The interest in Western classical music was coincident with China’s economic path. As this path changes, so will the place of Western classical music in Chinese society.
It was always the case that the number of children learning instruments did not equate to a genuine embrace of Western music – what many people missed was that the reason most children studied an instrument is to add a few marks to the score needed to get into a good high school or university. Once a result is obtained, the instrument might go back in the case (or be covered with a cloth) and never used again. But, despite this, and the devastating impact of three years of lockdowns on the classical music scene, there is a far greater variety of Western classical music here now than there was 30 years ago, and, taken as an average, the standards of performance are higher too.
How can musicians in Europe work more closely with our colleagues in China?
I think that dialogue has always been and is still the key factor. Modern China’s introduction to Western classical music came mainly from the Soviet Union. As understanding grew with a gradual opening to the outside world after the death of Mao, the 1980s saw the beginnings of a pivot to Europe, and the majority of young Chinese wanting to study music list somewhere in Europe as their first choice. There is an understanding now that the wellspring of Western classical is Europe, and it is better to learn direct in that tradition if one can. For Europe’s part, seeking an accurate understanding of the situation in China is very important too. Not all that glitters is gold…
Nicholas Michael Smith’s The Stone God runs at Bloomsbury Theatre from 1st–3rd November.
This article was sponsored by Wildkat PR.