“East meets West” was the signature tagline of the Singapore Symphony Orchestra (SSO) during the late 1990s and early 2000s, in a campaign to stand out among the world’s orchestras. The self-described “destination orchestra” adopted a variety of symphonic repertoire which melded the aesthetics of Eastern and Western musical cultures. Prime examples included the six symphonies and four piano concertos of Alexander Tcherepnin, a Russian who had a major influence on musical life in China and Japan, as well as Mahler’s Das Lied von der Erde, sung in Cantonese, all of which were led by then-music director Lan Shui and recorded on the BIS label.
With the rise of Western symphony orchestras in the People’s Republic of China, this trope has become ever more commonplace. But a timely reminder of just how connected different world cultures remain takes place on 16th–17th August at Victoria Concert Hall, Singapore with a pair of SSO concerts led by eminent Chinese conductor Long Yu. On the programme are two important concertante works, Samuel Barber’s Violin Concerto (with Karen Gomyo as soloist) and La joie de la souffrance (The Joy of Suffering) for erhu and orchestra by Chinese composer Chen Qigang (陈其钢). The latter will be performed by Chinese erhu exponent Yiwen Lu. The rare opportunity of hearing the Western violin and traditional Chinese fiddle in the same concert is classic “West meets East” indeed.
The erhu (二胡) is a two-stringed Chinese fiddle, bowed with the body of the instrument nestled on the lap. Part of the huqin (胡琴) family of bowed instruments, its range is similar to that of the Western violin, but without the presence of a finger board. Constant and exact intonation is difficult to maintain – a wavering tone and portamenti are de rigueur. The bow sliding and slurring between both strings endows the erhu with its expressive and emotive qualities, often compared with the singing or wailing female voice. “I would say that violin techniques are more difficult for erhu players to achieve on their instrument,” Lu explains, in a video call from her living room in Shanghai.
Born in Jiangsu province before moving to Shanghai, Yiwen Lu (陸軼文) was six years old when she first picked up the erhu. She was not raised in a musical family, although there was always music being heard at home. Her father played the erhu as recreation, typical in many Chinese families. Her parents had expected her to be a dancer instead but she had other ideas. After winning first prize in a children’s music competition, Lu was admitted at the age of nine to the primary school division of the Shanghai Conservatory.
She received tuition from a number of teachers, culminating with lessons by the late legendary erhu master Min Huifen (闵惠芬). A meteoric rise soon followed, with Lu gaining further awards and national prizes – today she is one of the most highly regarded erhu virtuosi in China. Presently holding a teaching position in her alma mater, she is also a council member of the National Bowed Stringed Instruments Committee under the China Musicians Association.
The erhu is a mainstay in traditional Chinese music, mostly transmitted orally over the centuries, as well as in music by contemporary Chinese composers. The erhu in Western symphonic music is however a relatively recent phenomenon, with music by Western classical composers gradually becoming known in China from the early 20th century.
Lu recounts the paucity of repertoire, having learnt to perform popular works for violin and cello transcribed for erhu, including Sarasate’s Gypsy Airs, Kreisler’s Tambourin Chinois, Paganini’s Caprices, and the usual suspects by Massenet and Saint-Saens. Even the wildly popular Butterfly Lovers Concerto, composed in 1959 by Chen Gang and He Zhanhao, was originally scored for Western violin and symphony orchestra. Naturally, that too has been appropriated by erhu players and orchestras of Chinese instruments, along with Chen Gang’s fragrant Sunshine Over Tashkurgan, the Central Asian answer to Ravel’s Tzigane.
Lu is excited that a significant new work has been added to the repertoire: Chen Qigang’s La joie de la souffrance. Chen, who alternates between living in France and China, was Olivier Messiaen’s last pupil, studying composition privately from 1984–88. His music, much of which carries French titles, is imbued with 20th-century French sensibilities but retains a strong Chinese flavour.
Originally composed for violin in 2017 and premiered by Maxim Vengerov and the Shanghai Symphony Orchestra, the concerto was the chosen as a mandatory set piece for finalists in the Shanghai Isaac Stern International Violin Competition in 2018. Having been personally acquainted with Chen over the last four years, Lu premiered the erhu transcription of the concerto, reworked by Chen himself. She also gave the American premiere and four more performances with the New York Philharmonic in 2023.
La joie de la souffrance translates as The Joy of Suffering, but its title in Chinese Bei Xi Tong Yuan (悲喜同源) means something different: sorrow and happiness emanating from the same source. This duality of emotions, the fatalist notion that sorrow and happiness are inextricably tied, is quintessentially Chinese. “Suffering and joy are two sides of the same experience. Without one, the other could not exist,” Chen has said.
The concerto is a fantasy in ten continuous sections, a meditation on the well-known Chinese guqin (ancient zither) melody Yangguang Sandie (陽關三疊), the words of which come from Tang dynasty poet Wang Wei (whose poetry was also used by Mahler in Das Lied von der Erde). This is an ode of farewell, sung for a dear friend travelling beyond the Yangguang Pass in the far western reaches of the Middle Kingdom, essentially a journey into the unknown.
It is music that has also been affected by personal tragedy: the death of Chen Qigang’s only son Yuli in a car accident in 2012. At only 29 and a composer himself, Yuli was a source of pride and joy, and his loss plunged the composer into a period of silence and deep contemplation. The catharsis that tragedy brings is apparent in the music, with Yangguang Sandie heard at the concerto’s outset, played by the solo erhu.
“The sadness is not obvious at first,” Lu recounts, “but the music soon grows on you.” The first six sections are titled Despoir (Despair), Solitaire (Solitary), Divinement solitaire (Devinely alone), Excite par des illusions (Thrilled by illusions), Soulagement melancolique (Melancholy relief), La beaute de la soufferance (The beauty of suffering) and so forth, building to a frenzied climax in what Chen himself described as “waves of emotions”. The concluding draw-down is just as emotional: the quiet final section Un lueur de lumiere (A glimmer of light) has the erhu as the sole voice as the music evaporates into the ether. “As the erhu is close to the human voice, it is most suitable for expressing human emotions, especially sorrow,” Lu reiterates.
Does Lu foresee more works involving the erhu in Western orchestral repertoire? She has already performed on erhu another Chen string concerto, Reflet d’un temps disparu, originally for cello (and premiered by Yo-Yo Ma in 1998). The possibilities of further works of this kind by Chen and other Chinese composers seem endless. In the meantime, Lu intends to continue mining the Western canon for more erhu repertoire. “How does Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto on erhu sound to you?” she muses.
Yiwen Lu performs Qigang Chen with the Singapore Symphony Orchestra on 16th–17th August at Victoria Concert Hall, Singapore.
This article was sponsored by the Singapore Symphony Orchestra.
