| Photo: Chew Kai Xin |
Wednesday, 1 October 2025
AN EVENING OF CHINESE TIMELESS CLASSICS / NAFA Chinese Orchestra / Review
Tuesday, 29 June 2021
STRINGS OF ELEGANCE II / Singapore Chinese Orchestra / Review
STRINGS OF ELEGANCE II
Singapore Chinese Orchestra
Singapore Conference Hall
Tuesday (22 June 2021)
An edited version of this review was published in The Straits Times on 30 June 2021 with the title "Night of versatile music-making".
As the nation gingerly eases out of heightened alert circuit breaker measures, live concerts are understandably thin on the ground. This concert, part of the Singapore Chinese Orchestra’s Music Tuesdays chamber series, was attended by an audience of fifty, but it would have been much more under normal circumstances.
The pairing of Li Yulong and Mu Ruixue was the star of the evening, exhibiting enormous range in their erhus and other members of huqin bowed string family. The hour-long concert opened with Liu Tianhua’s Liang Xiao (Nocturnal Peace), a work of exquisite beauty where both players alternated between melody, accompaniment and providing counterpoint. This kind of intimacy goes to the heart of traditional Chinese music.
In Liu Mingyuan’s Crescent Moon Before Dawn, Li played the gaoyin banhu. Its higher range, robust and penetrating sonority were well suited for portraying a maiden pining for her loved one by the glow of moonlight. In the same composer’s A Tune From Henan, based on Henan Quju opera, Mu’s sensuous erhu assumed the many varied inflections of the singing voice. Both works were partnered by Qu Jianqing on yangqin, a role that transcended mere accompaniment.
For Yi Jianquan’s Birds Returning To The Woods, the ensemble expanded to six members, including yangqin, xiao (played by Phang Thean Siong), zhongruan (Cheng Tzu-Ting) and cello (Huang Ting-Yu). Mu now performed the yehu, a fiddle fashioned from a coconut shell, which produced a deeper and mellower sound, not unlike the viola. This lively Cantonese work depicted a flock of birds nesting at sunset, with exuberant mimicry of birdsong from yehu and xiao.
Few instruments can match the erhu for displaying heartwrenching emotion, as amply demonstrated by Li in the Dongbei folksong Jiang He Shui (River Of Sorrow). In this well-known melody, a woman seeks her warrior husband by the riverside, only to be met by torrents of tears. By the sense of desolation evoked in the music and the playing, there could only be one conclusion: death.
The concert closed on a far happier note, capped by the sheer versatility of the erhu and its exponents. Zhang Che’s famous Taiwanese song Maiden Of Alishan simply rocked in Gao Jia’s jazzy arrangement accompanied by Hu Chung-Chin on piano, one so idiomatic and dynamic that the late Russian jazzman Nikolai Kapustin would have approved. Following that, Vittorio Monti’s riproaring Czardas, a popular tribute to Hungarian gypsy fiddling, sounded almost staid by comparison.
The enthusiasm engendered led to an entertaining post-concert show and tell session, where requests were made and short excerpts played to all around approval. Never underestimate the size of an audience, especially when the music-making is this good.
This was my 2400th article for The Straits Times, a record that stretches all the way back to 1997.
Monday, 9 May 2016
A GIFT TO MUM / Singapore Chinese Orchestra / Review
Thursday, 18 September 2014
THE CHARM OF SILK AND BAMBOO / Members of Singapore Chinese Orchestra / Review
Two
popular Cantonese tunes, Blossoms of the
Cotton Tree and Song of the Full Moon,
were poetry in the hands of erhu
player Tao Kai Li, who looked resplendent herself in an ornately embroidered
red gown. A singing tone and the ability to tug at the heartstrings of
nostalgia were key to their success.
Lim
Kiong Pin’s Dream of Bali featured
the organ-like pipes of the sheng,
performed by Ong Yi Horng. The pentatonic nem
scale - commonly heard on the gamelan - was employed, first as a reverie-like
introduction and later as an animated finale that had the same repeated rhythmic
motif as the popular 1960s song Stand By
Me.
Foong
Chui San’s strummed ruan (a lute
resembling a banjo) and Lee Khiok Hua’s bowed gehu (with a similar timbre and range as the cello) combined
sensitively in The Song of Mulan, which
began with martial strains improvised by Foong that portrayed the
cross-dressing lady warrior of legend.
The
zhonghu played by Sim Boon Yew and banhu by Tao highlighted the different
ranges occupied by the instruments, in Mongolian song Pulling the Camel and Ge Yan’s Carriage
Running over the Fields respectively. The latter was a fast romp, aided by
conductor Gay striking its rhythm on a ma
ling, jingling bells usually associated with sleigh rides in the snow.
Let’s Talk About The Past in Sim Boon Yew and Tan Chye Tiong’s
arrangement, a medley of popular Minnan and Taiwanese songs, received its World
Premiere. Here Tan performed on a series of eleven blown instruments from the dizi family, including the Japanese shakuhachi, a pair of xuns (ocarinas), paixiao (panpipes) and
what appeared like a snake-charmer’s pipe. This breathless tour-de-force
received the longest applause.
All
seven instruments, including Qu Jian Qing’s yangqin,
had equal prominence in Zhou Cheng Long’s Festival
of Mountain and Forest, a rhapsody based on Yi tribal themes which brought
the concert to a stirring close. A very lively post-concert discussion hosted
by composer-compere Liong Kit Yeng showed that appreciation of Chinese chamber
music is a well worth cultivating. Kudos to Esplanade and the Singapore Chinese
Orchestra for making it happen.Sunday, 4 September 2011
A GLIMPSE OF SINGAPORE / Singapore Chinese Orchestra / Review
Singapore Chinese Orchestra
SCO Concert Hall
Saturday (3 September 2011)
It is perhaps the very nature of Chinese music to be programmatic or narrative in character. Absolute music or manifestations of the abstract in music are much less encountered, so concerts of programme or descriptive music, such as this, are very much in the norm. Even the title A Glimpse Of Singapore gave a clue that musical travelogue was taking place.
Two movements of Gu Guan Ren’s titular suite on his 1987 visit to the Lion City opened the concert. The Beach had evocative dizi and erhu solos which suggested he had not yet left China, but the raucous percussion parade and Malay-flavoured melodies heard on strummed ruan and sheng made it clear that The Festival was captured somewhere in Kampong Glam or Geylang Serai.
Even the two virtuoso concertos played were inspired by scenery, folklore and legends. Li Bin Yang’s Mountain Deity elaborated on indigenous themes and rhythms, with Han Lei’s guan solo rising above the teeming throng to resonate like a heady saxophone in those Basque fantasies favoured by French composers. His range on the humble reed instrument was astonishing.
Xu Chang Jun’s The Phoenix was equally enthralling, almost a yangqin concerto that Bela Bartok never wrote. The Chinese dulcimer, an Eastern relative of the Hungarian cimbalom, is capable of extremes in dynamics, from soothing placidity to vehement violence, which Qu Jian Qing provided with an extravagance of flair.

The longest and best work was Rao Yu Yan’s Hymn Of Li Mountain, a symphonic poem inspired by Tang Dynasty poet Tu Fu’s lament. Its four connected segments detailed the poet’s weary climb, his witnessing of a feast of wanton waste – represented by a dance that grows progressively intoxicated – and closing with an orchestral sigh of anguish and resignation. Music can tell stories, and the Chinese orchestra does it most eloquently.




