On March 21, 2024 professor Frank J. Oteri brought students from his class “Analyzing and Placing Music in Historical Context” at The New School College of Performing Arts to the Chou Wen-chung Centennial Concert at Miller Theatre in NYC. The students reviewed the concert for an assignment, this is one of those reviews.
Chou Wen-chung Centennial Concert Review
By Claire Coven
”Analyzing and Placing Music in Historical Context” Spring 2024
Professor Frank J. Oteri | The New School College of Performing Arts
The Miller Theatre at Columbia University was bustling with fans, friends, and family of Chou Wen-chung Thursday evening for his Centennial Concert. Performed by Continuum, led by Joel Sachs, the evening was exciting and enlightening for those who knew and were new to Chou Wen-chung and his music.
The retrospective opened, and later closed, with the American premiere of In the Mode of Shang, composed in 1956. Continuum filled the stage as a complete ensemble and enraptured the audience throughout the seven-minute piece. One need not read the program notes–although they are illuminating–to appreciate how Chou developed the theme: he seamlessly alternated the melodic line between the entire ensemble and solos, duos, and trios from each section, building and changing the line with each pass. This became a defining characteristic of the work we heard Thursday evening: an avid calligrapher, Chou simultaneously drew melodies from and inspired by ancient Chinese techniques with those of the Western twentieth century, melding them just enough that something new is created while maintaining a distinct deference for each culture.
Upon the first listen, In the Mode of Shang paints vivid scenes through the solo melody. The discernable sections of the piece were marked by the entire orchestra coming together before returning to solo or small ensembles continuously developing the theme. The final piccolo solo, singing like a bird with unrelenting melodious legato, left us just satisfied enough to end the piece, yet it felt as though the piece could have continued. Continuum’s vivid playing allowed us to experience Chou’s early musical landscape in those few minutes.
Next we heard Yü Ko. Composed in 1965, this piece was perhaps the most traditional in its use of ancient Chinese techniques we heard that evening. Performed by a smaller ensemble led by winds and brass, with piano, violin, and percussion, it was interesting to hear how Chou was able to achieve such authentic ancient Chinese idioms and colors from Western instruments alone. To produce this, he had both the violinist and pianist pluck strings, and had a mute on the trombone to manipulate the sound. Again, the theme was played by few and then all.
The first half of the concert closed with Twilight Colors. Composed in 2007 and scored for a double trio–one with flute, oboe, and clarinet and the other with violin, viola, and cello–this piece consisted of vignettes in four movements and a coda. “A Thread of Light” began the series with a deep cello drone solo that continued to penetrate when the other instruments joined in. “Colors of Dawn” followed without pause, employing both trios in chaotic bowing until they calmly unwound. Next, in “In the Mist,” Chou programmatically writes a thick layer of mist by having the strings repeat narrow, chromatic intervals that the flute and clarinet permeate. In “Mountain Peaks Rising,” the ensemble created a topography with ascending and descending intervals. After playing a chord together, each musician continued to play their own unique theme, creating at once unexpected harmony and juxtaposition. The penultimate movement concluded with a hauntingly beautiful woodwind trio, as if birds were flying out of and around the mountain peaks. “Coda” flourished in a full ensemble sound reminiscent of late-Romantic quartets.
After intermission there was a panel discussion moderated by Kathryn Knight, music publisher and President of Edition Peters USA from 2019 to 2023, and included Chou’s sons Luyen and Sumin, and former students Lei Liang and Shyhji Pan. They spoke not only of the important mentor that Chou Wen-chung was, but also shared stories of his life that gave new meaning and insight to the pieces performed and his compositional process. Lei Liang said that Chou asked every student “When is a line not a line?” One can hear in his music that he taught by example, constantly asking himself the same question. Shyhji Pan synthesized Chou’s mission and technical philosophy stating that the “Confluence of East and West is what he dedicated his life to,” and that, “...technique lies in delicacy of details, that was consistent throughout his life.” His sons provided insight about the posthumously-published In the Mode of Shang: Chou wrote the piece in 1956 for his first wife who died a few months after the first partial performance in 1957. Bereaved, this is perhaps why Chou never published this early work, and why works composed after this tragedy reflected his “profound grief.” Chou later married concert pianist Chang Yi-an in 1962. Luyen described that “big leaps of faith defined” both his parents’ lives, and that music saved his father’s life.
Next we heard Joel Sachs perform The Willows Are New. Composed in 1957, this is Chou’s only composition for solo piano. At once dark with sprinkles of light, Sachs brought the single line to life through subtle and drastic dynamic shifts. After that we heard Ode to Eternal Pine, composed in 2009. Originally composed for an ensemble of traditional Korean instruments, we heard this piece performed on Western instruments. Notably, the piano was played in traditional Western style. Despite the Western instrumentation, we could hear the inspiration of traditional Korean music in each movement. The ensemble was tight and attuned to each other, maintaining continuity through tough transitions.
Ending the program the way it began, the whole Continuum ensemble came out to play In the Mode of Shang once again. With the information from the panel discussion and from listening to pieces ranging throughout Chou's career, the piece had a new levity to it. This was especially so after Sumin Chou described how his father wrote this piece when he was young and full of hope, and before experiencing the profound grief of the death of his first wife. The ensemble played with a robust and infectious sense of excitement. It was a wonderful way to end a meaningful evening of inspiring music.
Born in Yantai, China in 1923, Chou immigrated to the United States in 1946 leaving war-torn China to study architecture at Yale. However, it was on the ship that he realized he must pursue his passion for music, and upon arrival, gave up his fellowship at Yale. He subsequently began his music studies with Nicolas Slonimsky and Edgard Varèse in Boston, the latter of whom Chou became closest mentee and lifelong champion. Chou later studied at Columbia University where he became instrumental in the establishment of the Electronic Music Center (later revitalized into the Computer Music Center), the Fritz Reiner Center for Contemporary Music at Columbia, and the US-China Arts Exchange. Not only is Chou the first world-renowned Chinese-born composer, but he is also responsible for the success of the following generations of Chinese composers who he mentored through his US-China Arts Exchange. In his music you can hear the sounds of his childhood in China, adulthood studying with Varèse and other luminaries, and–above all–his dedication to fusing cultures of the East and West in harmony.
