A passionate “nut”
Ju first fell in love with music in middle school, and committed to pursuing his dream at an early age. He even borrowed NT$2,500 from one of his high-school teachers to purchase a trumpet, and went on to gain admission to the music department at the National Academy of Arts (now the National Taiwan University of Arts).
Shih Wei-liang, then the dean of the department, noticed that Ju loved to tap out rhythms, and steered him into percussion. After completing his undergraduate degree, Ju worked for the Taiwan Provincial Symphony Orchestra for a year and a half before going on to pursue graduate studies at the Vienna Conservatory in Austria at the “ripe old age” of 25. He then burned through a four-year degree program at the conservatory in just two and a half years, a record for its percussion program.
When Ju returned to Taiwan from Austria, an invitation from Taipei National University of the Arts professor Ma Shui-long got him involved with promoting percussion music. His passion for percussion drove him to draft a “15-year plan” for its development in Taiwan that many people thought was “nutty” in its ambition. “I used to think that 15 years was an eternity, but it has already been twice that long,” says Ju.
Ju announced the formation of the Ju Percussion Group soon after his return to Taiwan, which was then a desert for percussion music. Members of the ensemble celebrated the announcement at a hotpot restaurant next to Taipei’s United Hotel. Ju no longer recalls the name of the restaurant, but remembers the excitement of the group well.
From time to time, one of the young members would run outside to place a call back to the restaurant, resulting in a steady stream of announcements over the restaurant’s PA system: “Mr. Ju Tzong-ching of the Ju Percussion Group, you have a call at the desk!” It was free advertising for the newly formed ensemble.
Eating hotpot together became something of a group ritual. On every anniversary of the ensemble’s founding, Ju and the members would choose a hotpot restaurant for their celebrations. No matter how busy they were, there had to be hotpot. Visits from friends in the international arts community meant hotpot, as well. “Eating hotpot embodies the sense of wanting to share something with good friends,” says Ju.
Both the ensemble and Ju himself exude a palpable affability. Shortly after the group’s formation, Lin Hwai-min said of Ju: “If being disheveled is the hallmark of an artist, then there’s no way Tzong-ching is an artist. He looks like a civil servant who spends all his time sitting in an office. With a change of clothes, he could be the owner of a street-corner five-and-dime, one of those who is equally kind to kids and the elderly.”
The ever-smiling Ju says that his style probably has a lot to do with having grown up in the country. He attributes his warmth to his mother’s frequent reminders to be kind to others.
Ju is also willing to perform just about anywhere, from a temple plaza in an out-of-the-way corner of the city, to a major performance hall, or even on Variety 100, a TV variety show hosted by Chang Hsiao-yen in the 1990s. “It wasn’t just Chang Hsiao-yen’s show. I’ve been on Woo Gwa’s, Chang Fei’s, all of them.” The group’s appearances on TV attracted interest from audiences who went on to attend their live performances. The approach has worked well enough that other groups now emulate it.
“We were playing for real, so I wasn’t picky about where we performed and wasn’t focused on short-term gains.” Ju often talks about “playing for real,” an idea that has gotten him through difficulties large and small since founding the group. He faced serious challenges promoting percussion in the early days. For example, the general public’s lack of understanding of percussion music led to venue managers barring the group from performing out of fear that their playing would damage the venue’s floor. Ju encountered the problem so often that he began promising that he would pay for any damage to the floor in order to get permission to play.
Ju was flat broke when he set out to organize his first international percussion music festival, the Taiwan International Percussion Convention, in 1993, so he traveled south on the first day of the Lunar New Year to see a friend in the construction business. Plucking up his courage, he asked the friend to provide NT$1 million to sponsor the event and to loan him an additional NT$2 million. When he ultimately scraped together the money he needed for the festival, the media quipped that he had gone door to door begging for the funds.
To date, Ju has organized eight of the triennial festivals, and has used them to bring nearly all of the world’s well known percussionists to Taiwan. He jokes: “The only well known ones who haven’t come aren’t very good percussionists.”
The sight of Ju Tzong-ching performing on stage with a pair of drum sticks is a familiar one to audiences.
