Tan Dun: The Map and Paper Concert in Singapore.

The Map and Paper Concerto (front cover of the program)

Tan Dun is a Performing creator, musical composer, orchestra director, and he is Chinese. Born in Hunan, and today inhabitant and distinguished member of the New York artistic community, Tan Dun is a contemporary musician, media explorer, a seeker and a “schematic/structural madman”).

During the nineties, even while having great commercial success (even producing opera or music for film) and, motivated by another famous oriental musician (Yo-yo Ma) he tried to recover as much as possible of the living musical sources that nourished him in his childhood.

He remembers hearing a “stone-man”, a folk musician who made music with stones, music that explained the universe and was a medium to communicate with it. When he returned to talk with him, the stone-man had passed away.

Then he started to walk alone and his steps took him to draw what he called “a map”; once more his hearing drove him through memory towards small and remote Chinese villages he knew were traditional music sources, places which, at that moment, were hidden behind the “new Chinese emerging power” screen. (1) He knew there were rivers and lakes, which, in combination with human work, could sing and could make music as well.

Tan Dun with traditional singers and musicians during his research (during 90’s)

With an ordinary video camera he filmed precious scenes of performances by traditional musicians, dancers and singers in their usual surroundings; but he was a creator, and didn’t want to store that information in a museum or an archive, he knew those videos were living music and they could take part of his new musical piece, The Map.

Tan Dun’s memories brought back to life the stone-man music; with this musical background he wrote a musical piece in the usual way, and then he mixed everything in a sublime composition with those videos he took in his natal rural China.



The Map

The Map, special concert in Fenghuang, Xiangxi, China (February 2003)

I first watched on TV that marvelous documentary about the creation process of The Map and the special performance in Fenghuang when I was living in Lebanon. I was fascinated by the melodies and musical pieces Tan Dun explored. I thought he was looking for ghosts, souls who through singing and music offered secrets to anyone who wanted to listen, and he listened.

Overpowering media technology in rural China (February 2003)

Some time after that experience I bought the video and had the chance to observe carefully every aspect of this “musical act”, enjoying it completely. I memorized how he achieved that moment (the performance in Fenghuang); how he united the highest technology with his most ancient China; I memorized how he brought that overpowering media technology where there wasn’t even electricity. Hundreds of special guests from the central government, bureaucrats, intellectuals, etc. came to Fenghuang and mixed with those unimportant people from Chinese minorities; Television broadcasted live united them with the world. I memorized also how those traditional musicians and singers, now spectators, watched themselves in those videos, at the concert, becoming part of Tan Dun’s piece.

When living in China and planning my trip to Singapore for the Singapore Arts Festival 2007, I saw The Map and Paper Concerto was among the special events and I was shocked: would I miss it?

Before that special concert I could see some others performances, like “Optical Identity” by T’ang Quartet and Theatre Cryptic and “Dreaming of Kuanyin Meeting Madonna” by Mark Chan and Arts Fission. Then on July the 3rd, Tan Dun and the Singapore Philharmonic Orchestra performed at the Esplanade.

The Esplanade Concert Hall is one of the most important theaters of the world, because of its superb architecture and the quality of anything performed there. Tan Dun did very little to change the usual stage: the orchestra, the orchestra director’s place and soloist’s place were at the usual area; two middle sized video screens hanging over the stage; two large paper strips, hanging at both sides of the stage; and part of the lateral box on the second floor had special seats for around 6 musicians. The Concert Hall was almost full to capacity with expectant spectators. It seemed that many of them knew about this famous composer. Applauses, silence, and then, music.

The Map’s premiere was in Boston in February 2003, but it had its first memorable performance in November of the same year in Fenghuang Ancient Village, Xiangxi, China (the video I talked about was made during that performance). This work, from my point of view, reached its highest value for being a concert performed in that place (the Chinese village), at that moment (2003) and for that people (the spectators of that evening); there, it was an event totally full of life and it was enormous. It was overpowering in all senses. But the same “musical piece” in that concert at the Esplanade in Singapore in June 2007, without those spectators, without the place itself, was only a “strange piece” of bits of traditional Chinese music mixed with Western music in an interesting balance, at moments nice, at moments alive. That evening, we, the spectators, were only that, some western educated people honoring a great Chinese composer and having fun with his famous and rare musical work. We were helping to rescue the Chinese tradition, as in a museum.

That evening at the Esplanade, technology didn’t go to an inhospitable village to create a media fantasy; this time, it was some data in video format, coming from remote China, performed in the middle of a technological kingdom. As spectators we were enthusiastic, as was expected from people who attended a great concert of a great figure in a great art festival. But that evening something was missing.

I firmly believe that the worth of The Map lies in its being a “contemporary performative musical piece”, which only achieves its highest value as a temporary “Performing Media Art” and with the support of its creative process: that concert in Fenghuang in 2003 was not a simple concert, it was a “performative act” including Tan Dun’s musical piece, but also using Tan Dun’s spatial and theatrical concept.

In Singapore I was seated listening to a musical concert; then, I decided to listen the music. I’m not a musical connoisseur, I only enjoy listening, and this work was enjoyable but nothing else.


Paper Concerto

Tan Dun’s Paper Concerto

The Paper Concerto came after several other explorations by Tan Dun with his Chinese sources (among others, traditional music in The Map, and music of the elements in the Water Concerto). Now, he literally made music with paper.

The concept of paper is linked to the relationship between China and the world; in China, paper is linked with the sound it has and its expressiveness; Chinese life has listened to its paper for centuries. Tan Dun, as a good Chinese artist, was open to listening to it, he assimilated that sound, he sublimated it and then he created a “western style” concert in 4 movements.

The Paper Concerto was written for that kind of stage where we listened to it (and where we saw it): a common concert hall stage; and it worked perfectly on it. It reached, from my point of view, the magnitude of epic music.

Where others would make (and have made) sounds manipulating paper or cardboard and just using rhythms and jugglery, Tan Dun makes a really high musical work, a well done concert, and a real act of movement. Tan Dun is a great musician but he is also an important performing artist, I have no doubts about it. (2)

Japanese percussionists performing in Tan Dun’s Paper Concerto

Long white paper strips, Chinese paper, to touch, to beat, and bits of paper to crumple and whistle; paper which is seen and is heard; sound that makes us vibrate and then arrives to our hearing as sublime.

Tan Dun worked with the whole western musical background he has acquired, and then mixed it with that paper sound held in his memories; then, that western music (now old) was renovated and refreshed, it got life and power. That music was also visual. Those three percussionists danced, they were living a musical body action.

Information about the three Japanese percussionists of the Paper Concerto

Tan Dun made moving music on the stage, however his western musicians didn’t move from their seats. (3)

The Paper Concerto in Singapore was a successful performance, it was a high value artistic act and was absolutely enjoyable. Its creator, Tan Dun, has now in me a respectful admirer.

Note:

There is no recorded material about this event. The Singapore Festival didn’t permit taking photographs inside or outside the concert hall. Even when Tan Dun was giving autographs security officers were stopping any attempts to take video or photos, even though it was in front of the cafeteria!

I found some links to Tan Dun’s official Web site and one video uploaded in Youtube.

Video: The Map

Tan Dun’s Web site: www.tandunonline.com

Program signed by Tan Dun/A concert ticket/Concert program

(1) Since the eighties China has lived an astounding transformation, as well as a massive destruction of its reservoirs of traditional customs. Those remote and forgotten villages now live surrounded by concrete, pollution and “progress”, some of them have been converted into tourist sights where life has been annihilated and only money leads. The Han people, the majority of Chinese but also those who manage China, see Chinese minorities only as a touristic interest, as conquerors visiting those places as part of their conquest, looking for a showcase-moment of different customs. The central government has catalogued every minority, every village, every custom, every costume, every traditional performing art, and put them on touristic sale; that has only served to draw them out of their natural context: people sang while working, now they sing because tourists pay for it; who performed a ritual theatre now has a permanent stage and a schedule of performances with little care about the traditional ritual schedule; ancient villages full of life are rebuilt (which is good, of course) and villagers relocated to the outskirts, some of them being employed as “traditional villagers” doing the “traditional works” they used to do before the relocation. Chinese from big cities love visiting theme parks that reproduce world architecture and customs, some with reproductions of Venice or Paris or of the Mexican pyramids, so, these remote villages are just one extension of those Chinese theme parks.
(2) Tan Dun studied and worked as a Beijing Opera actor during the Cultural Revolution years.
(3) Perhaps T’ang Quartet and Cryptic Theatre could understand more about his exploration if they watched carefully the work of this Chinese artist.

Mark Chan and his "Dreaming of Kuanyin Meeting Madonna"

One of the reasons I visited Singapore this end of May was to attend the premiere of Mark Chan’s “Dreaming Kuanyin Meeting Madonna”. Mark is one Singapore’s most important musicians; he is a musician with a theatrical vision. First a painter and a swimmer, then a pop singer and a Chinese flute player, now a complete musician and composer.

“Dreaming Kuanyin Meeting Madonna” is, obviously, an attractive title, it provokes curiosity. Chan’s music was both recorded and live, he sang as well as acted, used video art on stage (Brian Gothong Tan) and dance (Arts Fission Company), everything pointed to a Multimedia Spectacle, and it was.

As part of the Singapore Arts Festival 2007 and performing at The Victoria Theatre, one of Singapore’s most historical theatres, the spectacle had a good number of spectators (the theatre was almost full to capacity) and I could see Dan Tun, the great Chinese composer, among the public.

The program offered a synopsis:

“Kuanyin appears in a half-dram to an insomniac artist in a most foreign land.

She confronts him and says: “You ask me for a sign?

Again and again you ask! You artists are all the same, you teenagers are all the same…!”

The vision which I will give you is this.

This is your life. All its bumps, all its sadness, all its wonders and splendours, all its boredom.

This is your vision.

Do with it as you see fit.

But, remember, you are responsible for all that it becomes.

And the artist’s life and work forever changed.

Firstly, the insomnia leads to depression and panic attacks.

The inevitable breakdown requires great care, the learning of chants, prayers, sutras and mantras.

The recovery comes in time.

But it leads to a change of heart and to seeing the world in different ways.

It leads him back to the real world.

Where somewhere in between praying in the church of St Gervais and St Protais in Paris and watching Madonna at the Tokyo dome he realizes that life is a fine balance.

Clubbing, pushing for fame, for fortune, for his own space.

These are all important too but they are not everything.

He has to make a space where he can be both himself and be of use and service to others.

He sees that he must be shared freely with others.

Om mani Padem Hom – Caritas omnia suffert omnia credit omnia sperat omnia sustinet”

Mark Chan doesn’t have any problems putting himself on stage and talking about his life, exposing his beliefs and fears (He said the goddess Kuanyin appeared in his room one bad night in Amsterdam). He talks about anything, speaking, criticizing, depicting his way of life in Europe, playing facing the spectators. Mark played without technique, he didn’t care, he was playing like a child, we knew he was in his own game and he enjoyed imitating the goddess that appeared in his dreams and changed his life. Kuanyin is the Chinese Madonna, Madonna, the singer, had just a little bit to do there, just as a point of reference in Mark’s story, everything finished (Chan’s crisis) with Mark as a spectator of Madonna’s Tokyo concert.

His music is sometimes sublime, with deep emotive and cultural roots, and sometimes incomprehensible, just like pop, like a commercial thing. Mark is definitely a complex artist, like his own professional and personal history. But I keep in my mind three pieces of his music from that evening, pieces which not only made me feel good but made me imagine and even create from listening to them.

Arts Fission, the dance company, gave the spectacle an interesting touch, but was almost outside of it. I felt most of the time that the choreography had too little to do there: nice movements, good dancing technique, interesting poses, and gestures, everything behind Mark’s story. It was something supplementary, not a fusion with Mark’s creation.

The video art was in part also illustrative, but for a moment during the spectacle it became an individual creation; then sometimes music and video were walking together, but another instant the video artist only used the music and then we enjoyed his own image. I don’t think the triple screen disposition was a good choice, it became monotonous; even the image play and the digital edition didn’t save us from feeling that monotony.

As a multimedia spectacle “Dreaming of Kuanyin Meeting Madonna” used some media, yes; as a story by Mark the spectacle had unity; but as a creation object it lacked unity in all its parts: sometimes they crossed, sometimes everyone had their own way, perhaps the process was too short for each one of the parts to fit with the others; they would already know it by now.

It’s a pity I can’t show material recorded by myself, but regulations in Singapore are very strict and even Mark was respectful of them, so the only thing I can offer as images are one promotional video that appeared in Youtube, one “social” photograph with Mark and me, and the link to Mark Chan’s site on My Space, where you can listen to his music.

Mark Chan's My Space site:

www.myspace.com/markchanmusic

T'ang Quartet and Theatre Cryptic in Singapore Arts Festival 2007

The National Library of Singapore is one of those enormous cultural complexes the city-nation has: a gigantic 4-storey building, and on the third floor a theatre with a capacity of more than 1000 spectators, The Drama Centre Theatre. This theatre was the place where T’ang quartet, in collaboration with Theatre Cryptic, put on stage “Optical Identity”(1).

T’ang quartet is a very good string quartet from Singapore, young (I don’t believe they are more than 40 years old) but with a solid artistic maturity and a great impulse for stage experimentation.

This spectacle, “Optical Identity”, offered in the Singapore Arts Festival 2007, was a real experiment; it seems it is not unique in T’ang’s trajectory, and that they have had some other experiments with music, technology and visual arts.

Theatre Cryptic is a visual performing company from Scotland that combines stage with music and video, and today it is a group with an international image.

I have to be very clear about what I saw: on the one hand, the music: an exceptional performance of very interesting works; on the other hand, the mis-en-scene: a disastrous experiment even in the use of technology, as well as the way the theatrical direction managed the performance.

There is an equation that makes my appreciation about “Optical Identity” that evening more colorful: T’ang Quartet played that night with such mastery for the simple reason that they have worked hard for many years, learning, practicing, exploring, listening; you can’t expect the same level on stage when that work could have been planned for just some months. It seems to me that the two parts, music and stage, were isolated from each other, and the creative processes were different even though it was the same performance. The big problem, I think, was that they decided the musicians would also be the dancers, the stage workers, the actors, without the same level between their musical performance and their theatrical one.

Some of the works played were memorable to listen, enjoyable and interesting; but not that experiment of sound (music) distortion, the use of the software seemed too basic, even chaotic, without route. A similar impression was caused by the live video (by the Swiss digital artist Jasch) and that computer generated video-image through, very common in performing Arts these days; I feel like having seen a technician without experience, with little talent to improvise and not many skills on stage, no rhythm in the product (video-image), nor capacity to manage visual angles; he knew how to take video and to use the software, but that’s not enough to be on stage, I think; he was not inside that musical performance.

I liked the recorded video showing T’ang quartet playing their instruments, the combinations with their naked bodies and the movements and music, very interesting: that idea of a part of a body playing music, only parts, showing details of their skins, muscles in movement, it was a visual aspect, really beautiful.

(Click here to see part of that video I’m talking about)

Even after those severe comments, the worse part of my comments is about to come: the theatrical performance (quartet T’ang were not only musicians, they were also dancers and actors and prop technicians!) and the stage direction (by Cathie Boyd). Big blocks of metal cut geometrically being used as windows, chairs, walls or nothing, sometimes they were more a problem than a practical solution; then our musician-performers had to move them during the whole performance, but the director considered that moving was simple or something and then proposed or accepted (at the end it’s the same) that they move with some attitude, with some state of… something. They also moved like dancing, then changed into percussionists, tried to keep a silent conversation between instruments and the video camera… Please, tell me, who can do all that (well done I mean) while playing music? I don’t know of anyone yet.

There was no depth nor conscience about the theatrical work. I believe the interpreters and their musical level was so much higher that the theatrical level of the stage director and the video artist.

Experimenting in Performing Arts is always welcome (from my point of view, of course), even with the problems I saw. Music performances in our days are missing something. T’ang quartet have the talent, the strength, the musical level, and they have exploring as an objective, the only thing left is to find the right artistic partners for it.

Working in the Arts in this country is a blessing; artists have a support of their authorities and institutions like I’ve never seen in my country. I saw the work of T’ang quartet, Mark Chan, and those street performers in Orchard Road. Independently of the quality of all of them, it seems to me that being an artist in Singapore is like taking part of a political idea: finding the sources of the new Singaporean cultural face beyond races and religion, Arts as the Identity of Singapore.



(1) This is the information about the T’ang quartet performance I found in the Festival site:

Optical Identity Theatre Cryptic and T'ang Quartet (UK/Singapore) Music to be seen, not just heard. A spectacle that weds sight and sound, teasing the eye while pleasing the ear! From Singapore and Scotland, a consort of talents join hands for a visual musical journey, entering a sumptuous realm of the global, sensual, virtual and real. The agility and depth of homegrown T'ang Quartet shine through their interpretation of four acclaimed contemporary composers – Kevin Volan (South Africa), Franghiz Ali-Zadeh (Azerbaijan), Rolf Wallin (Norway) and a commission by Joby Talbot (UK). Directed by Cathie Boyd, artistic director of Theatre Cryptic, the stage is sculpturally styled by Singapore’s award-winning furniture designer Jason Ong and couture house BAYLENE. As if in a spell, the stage space and movement shift through music, light, object, fabric and film with interactive technologies played live by Swiss digital artist Jasch. The T’ang Quartet performs in an immersive environment not encountered before. Programme Kevin Volans White Man Sleeps Rolf Wallin Phonotope 1 (Asian Premiere) Franghiz Ali Zadeh Mugam Sayagi Joby Talbot Manual Override (World Premiere) (Duration: 80mins no intermission)

Noridan. A big smile during the Singapore Arts Festival 2007.

Mi visit to Singapore lasted 6 days and I had planned to attend three events of the Singapore Arts Festival 2007 plus watching the Vesak parade (the celebration of Buddha’s enlightenment).

I knew I’d miss many events because of my short visit and the ticket prices (impossible to afford) and purposefully avoided them, but I made the mistake of forgetting the whole group of street spectacles, all of them free. But Singapore is a very small city, and walking around I found a few events.

So, while I was leaving the Esplanade after Tandun’s concert, at one of the terraces of this enormous cultural complex and among a crowd of curious spectators, my ears caught some music, the music of the Korean group Noridan, a singular company of musicians performers, some of them very young (I mean, children), who were playing musical instruments (my guess is they were made from recycled plastic and metal).

Companies like Noridan exist all over the world and of indisputable quality in their dance or music, but even then, after a mental comparison, Noridan, because of their short age, their timing on the stage, their rhythm and their energy projected towards the spectators, was a very good and big surprise.

The philosophy of the group is as simple as their music: entertainment with joy and energy, and they achieve their goal. Noridan’s members are talented and imaginative, practical, and that can be seen throughout the performance. Noridan doesn’t have the pretentious ideals of La Fura dels Baus or La Guarda, but they work with practical stage machines, they make music and play it, but only trying to make the spectator happy and show their talent (as with the drums); they dance and yell, play and do acrobatics but they don’t pretend to tell a story or even to show off their dramatic skills. Their work is simple and that simplicity enthralls, it is a pleasure to live their fluidity performing, fluidity which gives a breath to our journey.

Noridan (as Tandun), on the other hand, are still imprinted in my spectator memory. In the end I felt like approaching to say hello, to talk with them, to watch their machines and play those strange instruments, and they were glad about it. I felt like looking into their eyes with my best smile and saying “Gracias”.

Singapore Arts Festival 2007

I've been twice to Singapore; in this second visit last May (2007) I had the chance to meet one of the best musicians of the city-state, Mark Chan. Mark had the premiere of his new spectacle, Dreaming of Kuanyin Meeting Madonna, at the 2007 Singapore Arts Festival, which is a huge effort to support performing arts, from Singapore and the world. It was a very good reason to see several high quality dance, theatre and music groups and companies, to know about them and enjoy this amazing city.

Singapore is an expensive country, so I had to be very selective choosing the spectacles I wanted to see: first of all, Mark Chan's spectacle, of course; another concert-spectacle by the famous Singaporean string quartet T’ang; The Map and Paper Concerto, a surely amazing performance by Tan Dun, the orchestra director and postmodern Chinese composer; and one energetic group of street precussionists from South Korea, Noridan. I could even come across other street spectacles on my way to different places, like when going shopping, for example.

Without being part of the festival, but as part of the season’s festivities, Singapore commemorated the anniversary of Buddha's illumination (and death, of course), celebrating with a big parade-show of cultural manifestations from several Buddhist groups from all over Asia who live in the island: Malay, Indian and Chinese mainly. This year Singaporeans also celebrated the inauguration of a new Buddhist temple dedicated to a strange relic: a tooth from Buddha.

There were performances all over the city, inside amazing ultramodern cultural venues, always on time, and with many restrictions for us, uneducated spectators from the undeveloped world, restrictions such as “photography is not allowed inside the theatre”(even if the performance had not started yet, or was already over), or being forbidden to take photographs of the artists giving autographs, for example.

I'm writing a detailed post of every show, of course.

Well, Singapore with an average temperature of 35 degrees Celsius and a humidity of more than 70%, was full of warmth and life during those days, a lot of life I'd say.


This is a video with some nice moments of the festival: