According to Taiwanese custom, three professions are characteristic of people with bad luck: "barber, drummer, and piper." Recently, TV advertisements for iced coffee-which have always stressed modernity and youth-have been backed with the sounds of traditional drums and gongs. Some people have speculated that percussion music-which many contemporary folks find "noisy" and which has been tagged as "boorish"-could be the mainstream of music in the next century. Is this really the case? What is happening?
At the center of the stage in the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall, William Chiu, music director of the Luantanchiao Beiguan Opera Company, is leading a group of young students pounding on drums and gongs. The composition has a lovely title: "Two Flying Butterflies." "It's good enough to compare with anything from the West." There is excitement in his voice. Thinking back to that first year when the group was invited to play in the National Theater, the sponsoring organization kept asking if the percussion instruments at the back of the stage couldn't be played a bit more quietly, so that "the audience won't think it is too noisy"-now they are the focus of the performance.
For Chang Yuan-jung of the Hung Sheng Lion Dance Troupe, it's a first for him to have the lion dance drum placed center stage as the leading player. For this ten-minute piece in a performance series, Chang didn't sleep for days. He placed five large drums front and center on the stage. In the show, the thoroughly trained drummers even did leg spins and changing of hands to go with the rhythm. At the back of the stage were two lion teams, prancing along with the stimulating pounding, displaying their special skills. The audience was whipped into a frenzy by the performance, and gave it a rousing cheer.
Sound east, strike west
Early this summer, the Second Annual International Percussion Convention opened with a flourish at the Sun Yat-sen Memorial Hall. Thirteen extraordinary percussion groups from eight countries around the world were brought together in this festival. Organizer Ju Tzong-ching arranged for the convention to open with "An Evening of Taiwan Percussion Music." The evening was carefully arranged to give the audience a chance to "look seriously" at the many faces of percussion music in Taiwan.
Besides Beiguan and the lion dance, the evening also included Peking opera drum/gong music and aboriginal percussion music. The former was performed by the National Fu-Hsing Dramatic Arts Academy and the latter comprised music of the Atayal tribe. The Atayal performance opened with a percussion-backed chant formerly done by warriors before they set out for ritual headhunting. The show also integrated the theme of "amorousness"; men and women, each carrying a bamboo tube (used as a percussion instrument), danced and sang across the stage.
This opening night show proved a delightful surprise to the foreign troupes. Jarwood Whaley, president of the International Percussive Arts Society, said, "This was a very instructive experience, and was completely new territory for me." Some local residents in the audience were moved to tears: "I never knew that drums and gongs could be this rich!"
Besides this evening of Taiwan percussion, somewhat earlier the Taipei Folk Music Orchestra had performed "Two Dragons Fighting Over a Pearl" to introduce percussion from the music of traditional Taiwan drama. Also, the Taipei Municipal Classical Chinese Orchestra did "Striking Out a Taiwan Style-From Ancient to Modern." Further, they cooperated with the Ju Percussion Group to put on a fascinating concert entitled "Sounding in the East, Striking in the West" (a pun on an ancient military stratagem). This brought Western and Chinese percussion together on the same stage. Then there was a percussion concert at the plaza in front of the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall entitled "Shaking the Earth," displaying the many orientations of Chinese percussion music.
In fact, all of these percussive forms-from opera to lion dances to aboriginal music-have long had their own limited performance circles and contexts. But recently they have-unwittingly-all come forward together to seize center stage. How has this come about?
A brief history
Given the resounding success of percussion today, it is hard to imagine that ten years ago this field of music was entirely neglected in Taiwan. At that time people generally though of percussion music as cacophonous, incapable of being melodic, and not the kind of thing to be put on in elegant halls. People were very dubious about the possibility of percussion as an art form, even to the point that some feared such performances would "ruin" concert halls. It is only due to the constant efforts at promotion of a small group of people that percussion music is as well-received as it is in Taiwan today. The most influential member of this group has to be Ju Tzong-ching.
In those days he was a student majoring in wind instruments at the National College of the Arts. But he loved knocking things together, and, encouraged by his department chairman Shih Wei-liang, he decided to do further study in percussion. In 1983 he returned to Taiwan from Vienna with a degree as a percussionist, and, at the invitation of Ma Shui-lung, chairman of the Department of Music at the National Institute of the Arts, began to teach a class there. Three years later, he and his first group of students organized Taiwan's first percussion ensemble.
They thought up countless ideas to promote their music. Besides stage performances, they also appeared on TV variety shows, at temple celebrations, and on the street, gradually changing the public's perception: percussion was not a small part of an orchestra, being nothing but a cheerleader, and percussionists were not just people who didn't have the talent to learn any other instrument. It didn't have to be noisy, but could be pleasing to the ear, and there was a great deal of room for playful variation, with even ordinary bottles, cans, bowls, and plates capable of producing music. Percussion music is close to the beating of the human heart, which is a basic and essential function of the human body. It was also the earliest instrumental form in human history. "Anyone with a heartbeat should be able to relate to it," says Ju Tzong-ching.
Relying on his own passion for percussion music, and through specialization and the application of corporate-style management, Ju Tzong-ching's group became virtually synonymous with percussion music in Taiwan. It displayed a variety of faces, from the serious and classical to the lighthearted and popular, and even extended to children's music-nothing was outside their range. Three years ago, Ju also established a percussion education system for children. There are currently over 30 centers with 12,000 kids participating. The group celebrated its 10th anniversary this year, proudly declaring in their commemorative publication: "We have redefined the status of percussion music is modern Chinese musical history."
The richest place on earth
It is true that in terms of modern Chinese musical history, percussion music has gone from nowhere to great success. But what about its development in traditional Chinese music?
"In the past, China could have been called the richest place on earth for percussion music," says ethnomusicologist Cheng Rom-shing, who is also head of a Hakka ethnic music troupe. Percussion was represented at all levels, from the common people to the imperial palace, from popular tunes to exalted rituals. Folk percussion was closely tied to the lives of the common people, being present at weddings, funerals, and celebrations, and providing the soul of accompaniment for drama. And early percussion instruments like bells and chime stones were vital elements in court ritual music and were highly esteemed. Cheng affirms Ju Tzong- ching's promotional efforts, but cannot but express some concern: Will children think Western percussion is the only kind?
"Ju expanded the appeal of percussion music using corporate-style management methods. So, naturally, accessibility to a large audience was the first prerequisite, that cannot be denied," says ethnomusicologist Lin Ku-fang. However, from an artistic point of view, this is not fully satisfying. Another side effect is that the public may come to think of percussion music only as a kind of game of banging things around that can be enjoyed by the whole family. Moreover, mass accessibility does not necessarily lend itself to the highest quality work. Lin argues that we should still keep the "classics"-traditional percussion music-as the foundation, because these have stood the test of time.
This points up an interesting comparison. Today percussion music is well-received in the Western music world, but in Europe percussion music actually developed quite late. Outside of the European tradition, however, percussion music often had a highly esteemed position.
Supporting vs. starring role
When the Crusaders marched East, drums became an important instrument for whipping up the troops' morale. In the Baroque era, tuned drums were used for ceremonial occasions, and in orchestras were used to keep rhythm and build atmosphere. And when symphony orchestras expanded their size and composition, percussion music had further room to develop. But it was only at the beginning of this century that it achieved independent status. The first known formal composition for percussion in musical history came only in 1933.
In the 1960s avant garde music was all the rage, and composers began to come in contact with percussion instruments from all over the world. Rock and roll developed in a deliberately anti-orthodox fashion, with a pulsating beat coming from percussion instruments. And, at the same time, jazz was exploring variations influenced by African, Latin, and Caribbean rhythms.
Various instruments from around the world, each with its special characteristics, became studied and employed with increasing frequency. These included China's rich variety of drums and gongs, Indian drums, African drums, Japanese drums, Indonesian "gamelan" music, Caribbean steel drums (made from discarded oil drums), and the Mexican marimba.
In fact, Ju Tzong-ching knows that in attempting to establish Taiwan percussion music on the world stage, traditional music is a powerful resource. In the past Ju studied only Western music, and it was not until he came back to Taiwan that he came into contact with traditional percussion music. Besides learning Peking opera gong and drum music with "drum master" Hou You-tsung, Ju also pursued lion dance and Beiguan percussion. In the percussion curriculum that he established at the National Institute of the Arts, traditional gong and drum music was a required course.
Two years ago he even established a traditional percussion music center to do exchanges between the two sides of the Taiwan Strait. Besides inviting several famous percussionists from the other side to come to Taiwan to give demonstrations and lectures, he co-edited an illustrated book of percussion music with them, introducing percussion instruments from various places. "Only a small number of people will be interested in this research, but it was worth it," Ju says. His ultimate hope in researching traditional music is to transform it into unique material for an international audience, pushing Chinese percussion music onto the world stage.
A joyous sound
Ethnic music has become increasingly popular all over the world. However, when we want to look back and find "classical" Chinese foundations and link up with music that has "stood the test of time," problems arise: How much do we know about percussion music here in Taiwan? Perhaps it is so familiar to us that we hear it constantly but don't really listen, or else it may sound cacophonous. But what do we really know about it?
Drums and gongs accompanied by the suona (a type of horn)-the so-called "drum/ wind" combination-have been an essential component of popular customs from weddings and funerals to competitions and temple celebrations. A popular song entitled "Temple Celebration" begins, "The drums and gongs sound out a joyous song, the clang of cymbals reaches to the clouds." Most drum/wind music derives from Beiguan. Broadly speaking, Beiguan refers to music from northern China that was brought by immigrants to Taiwan. In the past the young men of every village would organize a band; in their spare time from farming they would practice and perform at temple events. Besides music with suona, Beiguan also includes pure percussion music. However, this is rarely performed in public, but is mainly reserved for meetings between music groups, when it is brought out as a display of technical prowess.
An essential part of temple events is a parade by performance troupes, of which the "Jumping Drum Troupe" and the "Flower Drum Troupe" are centered on percussion. The lion dance troupe, driven by drums and gongs, is an even more indispensable part of public events. Lion dance companies are invited to perform at all kinds of official and civic functions as an auspicious symbol to chase away evil and bring good luck. The lion dance style imported from Guangdong requires that those playing the role of the lion have martial arts skills to pull off the lion's acrobatic leaps, while the creature's moods of anger or joy and its rolling movements are expressed, with great nuance, through drums, gongs, and cymbals .
Another key element of traditional percussion was the luantan (lit. chaotic playing) performance of Beiguan, an essential feature of temple gatherings. Although this is gradually disappearing, its background music has had lasting influence on puppet theater, Taiwanese opera, and Hakka tea harvest songs. Percussion for theater performances may very well be "heard and not seen," but it provides vital backstage support: Besides hinting at the personalities or attitudes of the various characters and providing rhythms to pace the choreography, it is even more important in creating the mood of a scene. It even handles "special effects" like water sounds, knocks marking the hours, door knocks, and so on.
A lingua franca
The percussion at Peking opera is very interesting. It is composed of single-skin drums, small and large gongs, cymbals, and tang drums. The percussion sheet music, known as the "Gong and Drum Classic" or "Pieces for Gong and Drum," is written out in characters whose sounds mimic those of the various percussion instruments. There are more than 100 pieces, ranging from the "Audience-Rousing Percussion" (an intense, lively piece which preceded shows to attract people to the performance) to the "Tail Sound" (which closed performances). Each drum piece has its own playing techniques and functions.
"In the past people used to use the expression 'listen to a play.' This is because through the percussion and singing one could figure out what kind of character was coming on stage and how they were feeling," says Wen Chiu-chu, a lecturer in music at the National Institute of Arts who specializes in Peking opera percussion. For example, when the audience hears the small and large gongs and cymbals tapping out the piece "Slow Mallet," then they know that either an unmarried lady from a rich family is coming with light steps, or else the emperor is about to make his awesome appearance. Chaotic pounding means that someone is in a panic or terrified. And when two "armies" clash on the battlefield, the clashing of cymbals in the "Very Rapid Wind" piece sets the mood of tension and intensity.
"Our ancestors translated human character traits and emotions into simple and symbolic rhythms, which is a reflection of traditional life and aesthetics," explains Wen, showing how the deeper one understands the music, the more thrilling it is. And looking at all the various regional operas in China, though performed in different dialects and using different vocal styles, their percussion was largely the same, acting, in Wen's metaphor, "like a musical lingua franca."
The leader of the percussion section is the one who plays the single-skin taboret, and he is called "the old man at the drum." In traditional Chinese music there is no conductor; everything is led by the drums. In the past it was not easy to become a drum master. One had to first study the cymbals, small gong, and large gong for three years each before even beginning to drum. Besides having to know every percussion instrument, a master had to internalize every plot, so that he could know what characters were coming on, what mood to create, what kind of acrobatic move was coming up, and what sort of vocal style would be used for a song. And he had to be fully versed in the percussion music needed for each situation.
Yet even all that study and memorization is not enough once on stage-improvisation is vital. When an actor casts a significant glance or points a finger, or hints at something through the shaking of a sleeve, or the stroking of a beard, the music must be spot-on to "bite the tail"-match the gesture with the appropriate sound effect. So important is it that actors and musicians are "tight" that it is even said that "the slightest mistake in the drumming during battle scenes [when actors do synchronized acrobatics] can cause an actor to fall and be killed." Liu Ta-peng, director of dramatic music at the National Fu-Hsing Dramatic Arts Academy, offers an amusing metaphor: "The actors are like customers and the drum master is like a chef-one decides what to order and the other makes it, and only if both know what they are doing can the meal be a success."
Shaking the earth with drums
In fact, Chinese drums are not just accompaniment for dramas and traditional cultural activities. If "An Evening of Taiwan Percussion Music" introduced such folk percussion, then the "Shaking the Earth" concert put on by the Council for Cultural Planning and Development displayed many facets of Chinese percussion music along an axis of history.
It was a cool Saturday evening, and audience members-some having come especially for the event, others who had just been strolling the plaza-sat on the ground in twos and threes. The "opening gong" was sounded by tens of drummers and suona players, playing ritual music. Next came the "artistic" presentation. This included renowned Xi'an and Chaozhou percussion music from mainland China, and there were also modern compositions inspired by traditional percussion music. The segment combining ritual and art was represented by the piece "Sacred Drummer" by the U Theater. Their performance was very ritualistic, and had something of the flavor of the Japanese group Ondekoza. The concert closed with the bell and chime stone music played at ceremonies to honor Confucius. It recreated the somber ritualistic mood and served as the curtain-closer for the Taipei International Music Festival.
The planner for this concert was Lin Ku-fang. He hoped that by being presented with a range of forms, people would come to recognize that there is more to percussion music than ethnic music or entertainment, and see the rich interconnections between Chinese percussion music and Chinese life and culture. Many places in Taiwan and mainland China absorbed martial arts, swordsmanship, and dance, and from their movements created moving percussive art with sound, form, and feeling. As for the earliest forms of percussion in China-bells and chime stones-these were for political rituals. From the emperor to the nobility, at each level there were fixed regulations for the size and form of orchestras, and today it is probably only at the ceremony to honor Confucius that anyone ever has a chance to see these instruments being played.
Aiming for modernity
Besides introducing the many forms of traditional percussion music, many people are also endeavoring to use traditional materials to express a modern spirit, and there are many materials in the vivid world of folk percussion that can be directly adapted. Take for example the concert "Striking Out a Taiwan Style" performed by the Taipei Municipal Classical Chinese Orchestra. Not only did the percussion section spend half a year learning Beiguan from William Chiu, they commissioned a composer to create new works based on Hakka music and on traditional luantan. Percussion first chair Li Hui herself also composed new works using the large Buddhist drums and aboriginal percussion music.
In this area, things were happening earlier in mainland China than in Taiwan, with correspondingly earlier achievements. In the 1980s, percussion ensembles were organized in many locales, while many percussionists wrote original pieces, some incorporating other instruments, others purely for percussion. For instance, An Zhishun, a renowned practitioner of Xi'an percussion, wrote two short pieces-"Quarrel Among Ducks" and "The Tiger Grinding Its Teeth"-based on folk percussion music. They use, respectively, cymbals and the large drum, producing fascinating variations using different playing techniques. They vividly contour the spirit of their namesake animals, and have proven very popular. The pieces have been frequently performed on both sides of the Taiwan Strait. In another example, Tan Dun, who has made quite a splash on the international music stage, adopted gong and drum music that he heard used in worship ceremonies when he was a small child in his home in Hunan, creating a piece of great power.
Both East and West
For many years now the Ju Percussion Group has been commissioning local composers to write pieces for percussion. At international festivals they arrange, they require that every ensemble perform at least one piece by a Chinese composer. Over the years they have accumulated a large repertoire of works, some based on folk music, others on Peking opera. Ju Tzong-ching believes there is high degree of compatibility between Western and Chinese percussion instruments, and different colors and moods can be expressed through the choice of instruments and techniques. "We are not 'neither Chinese nor Western,' but want to be both Chinese and Western," he says.
Lin Ku-fang argues, on the other hand, that culture is by definition a product of amalgamation, but it is even more important to stand firm on one's own foundation. The composer Ma Shui-lung takes a third view. He feels that the important thing is that the percussion selected be appropriate for a given piece; otherwise things will not fit together. This depends on the skill of the composer. He says that the Chinese and Western traditions both have their special characteristics; for example, Eastern drums mainly have leather skins, while Western use manmade materials. As for differences in playing technique, Ma offers an anecdote from his own experience:
At one time Ma was doing the music for the Cloud Gate Dance Company's performance of "Liao Tianding." He used a great deal of percussion to express emotions or set moods. When he was invited by a Czech recording company to make a record, he brought along a number of large and small gongs needed for the piece. Little did he expect that the expert percussionists there would be unable to even hold the gongs, even after twenty minutes of showing them what to do. If they didn't drop them, then they couldn't strike them the right way, much less express the nuances of the piece in the way he had envisioned.
Cool youth
Looking at the global music scene, percussion music has produced a constant series of cross-fertilizations, and some people expect that it will be one of the major streams of music in the next century, with vibrant ethnic music being its strongest element. But percussion music does not just belong to music professionals. It also is something the whole family can enjoy-the instruments emit a sound just by being struck, so people get an immediate sense of accomplishment.
Before Ju Tzong-ching opened his percussion instruction centers for kids, he noticed a contradiction in the way children study music: When they are learning, their pain seems greater than their pleasure. Yet children by nature enjoy music. So, perhaps if children could begin to study from relatively simple percussion instruments, while "knocking around" they would not only pick up a sense of rhythm, but the experience will dispel their fear of music. They will develop an ear, and will begin to pay attention to the sounds all around them.
But this instructional system still focuses mainly on Western percussion. Is there any place to get into traditional percussion music? Currently a few middle and primary schools have classes in traditional arts like Beiguan or the "Dancing Drum" performance troupe. But most young people prefer the rapid rhythms of rock 'n' roll. The senior Beiguan artist William Chiu sighs, "When kids hear percussion from Chinese drama, they cover their ears and complain about how noisy it is. But just look at them when they are at a rock concert-the bass and drums are so loud, but the kids just love it."
A golden begging bowl
Those concerned about the teaching of traditional music feel frustrated at this. "We don't take seriously our own cultural foundations; we're just a broadcast relay station for Western music," says Ma Shui-lung. He feels Taiwan is just like someone with a golden bowl who doesn't know how to use it for anything but begging from others. Wen Chiu-chu says that the only way traditional music can be preserved is to introduce it into the school curriculum. But few teachers colleges' music departments have such courses available-and if teachers haven't studied it, how can they be expected to teach their students to appreciate it? "The question is: Do we or do we not have the self-confidence to put our own ethnic music in the school system?" says Lin Ku-fang with emotion, adding, "If we win the bid to host the Asian Games, what do they expect to have for music for the opening ceremonies, Beethoven's Ninth Symphony?"
It's a bit much to talk about "a sense of mission." Perhaps an easier approach would be to turn to music's pop nature. In the 1960s, rock arose in the West as an "anti- establishment" form, and local artists looked abroad for inspiration. They were moved by the loud and pulsating drumming of rock music that expressed a desire for liberation. But now, after all, the Rolling Stones are old men, and if youth in today's Taiwan are looking for something "non-mainstream," where better to look than to tradition? What could be more cool than taking back "the golden bowl" and using it for something better? No wonder even iced coffee TV commercials are using traditional drum/wind music. So, would you like to be a cool young drum hero? Why not be able to do everything-Chinese and Western, traditional and modern-and blow people away!
Photo:
p.98
(above) The outdoor concert "Shaking the Earth," held on the plaza in front of the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall, colorfully displayed the rich variety of Chinese percussion music, causing many people to stop in their tracks and have a listen.
(right) The drum sounds, and the human heart responds. "Sacred Drummer" performed by the U Theater was very ritualistic.
p.100
The lion dance is a common sight in parades. "Waking lion" percussion combines with the movements of the performers to bring the lion to life. In the past, drummers were also practiced at martial arts movements. (photo by Vincent Chang)
p.102
There is a force in percussion that can get people moving, and can also move the soul. For several years the Ju Percussion Group has been tireless in promoting this art form, helping creating a popular trend out of nothing at all.
p.104
A number of successful percussion groups have arisen in mainland China. The photo shows the Huxian ensemble welcoming the Ju Percussion Group to Xi'an early last year. (photo courtesy of Li Ming-hsun)
p.105
Percussion is essential in adding excitement to parades of performing troupes at temple celebrations. Drums are the focus of the "Flower Drum" troupe, complemented by acrobatics. (photo by Lily Huang)
p.106
Rock and roll's rapid rhythms and loud amplifiers exude a desire for liberation, and stimulate dancing, driving many kids wild. (photo by Hsueh Chi-kuang)
p.107
Percussion instruments need only be struck to make a decent sound, readily giving people a sense of accomplishment. Ju Tzong-ching's percussion instruction centers use this approach to make music more user-friendly for kids.
The lion dance is a common sight in parades. "Waking lion" percussion combines with the movements of the performers to bring the lion to life. In the past, drummers were also practiced at martial arts movements. (photo by Vincent Chang)
There is a force in percussion that can get people moving, and can also move the soul. For several years the Ju Percussion Group has been tireless in promoting this art form, helping creating a popular trend out of nothing at all.
A number of successful percussion groups have arisen in mainland China. The photo shows the Huxian ensemble welcoming the Ju Percussion Group to Xi'an early last year. (photo courtesy of Li Ming-hsun)
Percussion is essential in adding excitement to parades of performing troupes at temple celebrations. Drums are the focus of the "Flower Drum" troupe, complemented by acrobatics. (photo by Lily Huang)
Rock and roll's rapid rhythms and loud amplifiers exude a desire for liberation, and stimulate dancing, driving many kids wild. (photo by Hsueh Chi-kuang)
Percussion instruments need only be struck to make a decent sound, readily giving people a sense of accomplishment. Ju Tzong-ching's percussion instruction centers use this approach to make music more user-friendly for kids.