| FIVE years ago,
an ancient Chinese air was beamed to outer space as a PR exercise. To humankind,
music is a universal language, so the tune seemed an ideal medium for communication
with extraterrestrial intelligence. So far there has been no response, but
it is believed that the tune will play for a billion years, and eventually
be heard and understood. The melody is called High Mountain and Flowing
Stream, and it is played on the guqin, a seven-stringed classical musical
instrument similar to the zither.
Background to the Air, High Mountain and Flowing Stream
Composed over 2,000 years ago, High Mountain and Flowing Stream is one of
the earliest Chinese airs. It describes lofty mountains, and pine forests
blowing in the wind as clouds swirl in a valley below, while streams converge
at a thundering waterfall and flow down to the sea. In intimating a beautiful
natural landscape, the music gives free rein to the player's expressiveness.
 The
tune is based on a story.On the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival about
2,000 years ago, Yu Boya, a high state of Jin official during the Warring
States Period (475-221 B.C.), was on his way back from the State of Chu.
Deciding to stop for a while, he moored his boat and began to play his
guqin. Suddenly a string broke. This alarmed Boya, as he thought it might
signal the arrival of an unwelcome guest, but on stepping onto the bank
he found that a woodcutter had been listening to him play. To Boya's surprise,
the woodman knew a great deal about music and the guqin. He thereupon
played another tune -- High Mountain and Flowing Stream, to see how much
the woodman understood, and was astonished by the full explanation of
the air's musical conceit that followed. He then laid down his guqin,
bowed to the woodman, and asked his name. The man introduced himself as
Zhong Ziqi. Boya was happy to meet such a soul mate, and the two became
sworn brothers. Boya urged Ziqi to leave his home and seek a government
post, but Ziqi refused, insisting that he could not leave his parents.
Boya gave Ziqi gold in the hope it might improve the quality of his friend's
life. On parting, the two promised to meet at the same place the following
Mid-Autumn Festival. Ziqi used the gold Boya had given him to buy books,
and read them each night after spending the whole day cutting wood. He
thus did his best to live up to Boya's expectations and serve in the government.
The tragedy of the story is that Ziqi soon spent all his energy and died
of exhaustion at just 27 years of age.
A year later, Yu Boya fulfilled his promise, but Zhong Ziqi was not at
their appointed place. Concerned, he went to Ziqi's home, and was told
that his friend had died 100 days previously. Boya was filled with such
remorse that he fainted. On coming round, he went to Ziqi's tomb, and
played a short tune as a tribute to his friend. He then smashed his guqin
into pieces, making up his mind never to play the instrument again. Soon
after, he resigned his post and took Ziqi's parents to his home, where
he supported them until their death.
It was not Ziqi's musical talent alone that impressed Boya, but also his
personality. The same was true of Ziqi, who respected Boya's musical skills,
and also liked him as a person. Theirs was an unconventional friendship,
as in the Chinese feudal society of 2,000 years ago it was unheard of for
a high government official like Boya to become sworn brother of a common
woodman.
The story of Yu Boya and Zhong Ziqi has always been associated with the
haunting High Mountain and Flowing Stream air. Composer Yu Boya made every
effort to perfect his skills, one of which entailed living on a remote
island for ten days, and facing the ocean as he played and sang in exaltation
of nature and the inspiration it gave him. It is little wonder this tune
is still known and loved by so many people, 2,000 years later.
The Human Concept of the Guqin
The contemporary guqin has seven strings, but in earlier times it had
25, giving the player a far wider scope of expression. In ancient China
the guqin was considered a holy instrument, with an intelligence of its
own. An example of this is apparent in a story about Confucius. One night
he was playing the guqin in his room when his disciple Yan Hui entered.
Yan sensed a certain menace about the tune he was playing, as if it were
the carrier of murderous intent. On mentioning this to Confucius, his
master answered: "As I played, I saw a cat chase a mouse, and hoped
that it would catch it. The intention to kill was reflected in my playing."
Confucius was adept at music, and considered the guqin to be the most
important instrument of his time. Learning how to play was a compulsory
aspect of his teaching.
There are various taboos associated with the guqin. It should not be played
in extreme cold or heat, or when there are gale force winds, heavy rains,
sudden thunder, or blizzards. Neither is it played when there has been a
death, if other music is playing, or in an atmosphere of trivia. Before
taking it up, the player should be appropriately bathed and dressed. He
must also burn incense, and be in the company of a good friend. Only then
may the guqin be played.
The power of the guqin is exaggerated in many Chinese literary works.
It was a feature of wars throughout Chinese history, and gallant Chinese
swordsmen regarded it as a weapon. For instance, during the Three Kingdoms
period (220-280), the Kingdom of Shu underwent a series of defeats by
the Kingdom of Wei. On one occasion the Wei general, Sima Yi, advanced
with his armies to the gate of a Shu city, unaware that there were no
Shu soldiers within the city to protect it. On seeing the Wei army advance,
however, the Shu military advisor Zhuge Liang had gone to the gate tower,
taking with him two pageboys, who drank wine as he played his guqin. As
he listened, Sima Yi found himself in a quandary. He tried to tell from
the nuance of the music whether the city was truly empty, or if Shu soldiers
hid within it. Hearing its tranquil tones, he decided this was a trick
of Zhuge Liang's to tempt his army into an ambush, and so ordered a retreat.
The ruse helped the Kingdom of Shu to avoid another defeat and ultimate
destruction, and was inspiration for the folk opera, The Empty City Trick,
which is still performed today.
There are other famous guqin tunes. Guanglingsan, a story of revenge,
is one. During the Warring States period, Nie Zheng's father, a swordsmith,
delayed casting a sword ordered by the King of the State of Han, and was
executed. Nie Zheng was determined to seek revenge. He practiced his guqin
playing and sword fighting skills until he had achieved mastery of both.
He then went back to Han in disguise. His excellent guqin skills attracted
the King, who ordered him to come to the royal palace and perform. As
the King listened, rapt, Nie Zheng took out the dagger secreted in his
clothing and stabbed him to death. He then committed suicide to avoid
involving any of his other family members. The beginning of the tune expresses
sympathy for the grieving Nie Zheng, and later reflects his hatred for
the king, and decision to take revenge. The final part is in praise of
his spirit as he faces death without fear.
In ancient China, the guqin was an instrument played mainly by those of
noble birth. Among the 3,000 or so guqin tunes that have been handed down,
the majority are works by the then ruling class, expressing their aspirations.
The first guqins were made about 3,000 years ago. They were very simple,
with just one or two strings. As aesthetic concepts flowered and playing
skills improved, the instrument changed. By the 3rd century the guqin
had seven strings, and was very similar to the instrument played today.
The body of the guqin constitutes a wooden voice box about 110 cm long.
It is 17 cm wide at its head, and tapers to 13 cm at its bottom end. The
upper surface is made from tung or fir wood, and the back, in which there
are two holes of different sizes, from catalpa. On the instrument's upper
side are seven strings, on which the player makes notes with his left
hand, and plucks with his right.
The most famous guqins have their own names, such as Haozhong and Raozhong
of the Warring States Period, and Luyi and Jiaowei of the Han Dynasty.
These four are regarded as the best guqin ever in China, the last of which,
the Jiaowei, refers to Cai Yong, a famous musician of the Eastern Han
Dynasty. On hearing an unusual sound emitting from the burning firewood
on which food was being cooked, he quickly ran over and pulled a tung
log out from the fire. Soon after he asked an expert to make a guqin out
of it. The quality of sound from the instrument was extraordinary, but
its bottom end was a little scorched. Cai Yong hence named it Jiaowei,
meaning burnt tail.
Chinese people think of the guqin as an intelligent instrument. True
or not, love of nature, and music that celebrates it, makes life more
beautiful. |
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