The ancient murals of the Dunhuang desert’s caves came out to play at the Orpheum earlier this month for Grammy and Oscar-winning composer Tan Dun’s Buddha Passion.
The UBC Choral Union, University Singers and Vancouver Symphony Orchestra were joined by Dun to perform his six-movement libretto, a work inspired by the philosophical and religious teachings of the Buddha and Dun’s visit to the Dunhuang desert’s ancient cave system, of which the interiors are adorned with artwork of musical motifs.
“Students were very excited to work with Tan Dun and his work is just amazing,” said Assistant Professor in Choral Conducting Dr. Hyejung Jun.
UBC Director of Choral Activities Dr. Graeme Langager said it was an “epic performance” and a “highlight” of the decades-long collaboration between UBC’s choirs and the VSO. The two UBC ensembles came together to premiere Dun’s piece in Canada.
“Because it blended Eastern and Western musical ideas, musical sounds, musical instruments … it was a true cultural awakening and cultural exchange between Maestro Tan Dun and the UBC choirs,” said Langager.
Many points in the piece marry Eastern and Western music theory, whether it be in the dramatism indicative of the Western romantic period, or the onomatopoeic lyricism and polyphonic overtones of Mongolian folk music.
The ensembles were joined by soprano Louise Kwong, mezzo-soprano Samantha Chong, tenor Yi Li, bass-baritone Apollo Wong, additional vocals by Jiangfan Yong and Batubagen and Yining Chen on the pipa. Each soloist embodied the ability to momentarily portray Dun’s characters, with just enough expression — morphing from sorrow, pleading, anger then relief — to not fully detract the audience’s attention away from the musicality of the performance.
At the Orpheum, the choir swept the back of the stage in black uniform and coordinated synchronized movements and hums that swelled to pitched exclamations, the chant of the libretto’s Mandarin and dissonant Sanskrit harmonies.
A lesson of equality from a prince and his bird, a deer of nine colours and a greedy king grappling with karma, the sacrifice of an emperor’s three daughters and the teachings of Zen and mortality — the threads of each story come together like the brush strokes of the intricate paintings Dun desired to recreate in his music.
“The piece is comprised of six movements in an overall arc depicting the Buddha's life and ultimate transcendence into Nirvana,” said Langager. “Each tells its own story of various teachings and life experiences from the Buddha.”
This was a performance that engaged the entirety of every instrument involved. In act two, as the tenor townsman betrays his saviour deer and hunts her, the ensemble hit metal to metal using handheld percussion in a wave of rolling clanks.
Strings put down their bows and tapped their instruments to the beat of Dun’s baton, and Miaoqing, one of the emperor’s daughters, danced with steady concentration as she incorporated the strum of her pipa, sometimes referred to as a Chinese lute, into her ballerina-like movements across the stage in act three.
It’s not often that you witness a composer conducting his own score, and even rarer to see the artist so impressed and enthralled by the execution of their own work.
But Dun was careful to make sure every part of this musical vehicle was acknowledged. The lengthy standing ovation that rose from the audience as soon as the final line, “Heaven, Earth, mankind in harmony,” was suspended in melodic orchestral cacophony — a testament to the joy that comes from bridging artistic disciplines together.
“Tan Dun was exceptionally skilled at relating to the students,” said Langager. “He had a beautiful spirit in rehearsal and a delightful passion for music and collaboration.”
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