As one listens to this music (so individual and very special in content), one is impressed above all by the intensity of its quiet concentration. Presumably it is a compliment to say that Chou’s style militates against listening to any two of his works in quick succession. In any of them the colors are lovely, the textures virtually rarefactive, the subject matter hardly contrasted–it is single-stranded, almost, with parenthetical material in lieu of development per se. So that the music seems to be without climax; it seems rather, to consist of a single subject being displayed as if prismatically, from all of its coloristic angles. Thus to consider more than one piece in a single sitting can lead to aversion, and even so the listening must be careful. But also it is rewarding.
Chou’s music has the expressivity of the East though it is expressed by the manipulation of Western instruments. The discourse is therefore mostly symbolic. In Cursive the flute oscillates in minute motion (microtonal shifts, achieved by rolling the instrument); it glides variously, vibrates in shifting speeds. This is insular communication, minus the organic outwardness to which our ears are accustomed.
This vague and undefined (in our terms) character is very apparent in the piece for solo piano entitled The Willows are New. It is disjointed metrically (there is constant change), but a sense of one line is maintained from the opening rubato to the close. The composer describes this work as “a continuum of motion and tension in spatial equilibrium”. Well stated, even if the tensions are readily recognizable because there are no releases.
The curves and loops of Cursive are also the patterns of Yü Ko (scored for violin, alto flute, English horn, bass clarinet, trombone, bass trombone, piano, and percussion). In its delicacy and lack of fervor this piece is an abstraction of drama. It is all implied, an expert depiction of vitality in its quietest manner. (Some may prefer to describe this as a manifestation of Eastern non-emotionalism. Whatever, the immaterial character of the work is beautiful.)
Pien lives up to its literal meaning: “transformation and change”. Actually it is rather diffuse, and runs on for quite a long time in comparison to the other works (it is only one and one-half minutes longer than Cursive, but because of its unsettled manner it seems to be much longer). Only in this composition does one find a lack of balance, transparency, and poetry. Little matter, what with the happy discoveries provided by the other three pieces.
Indeed, this is a fascinating record and easily one of the most important releases of the year. The performances are precise and expressive, the engineering very good. In short, CRI has done it again!
By Arthur Cohn