Gestures in the Context of Musicianship
I’ve been working with a guzheng player and I’m blown away by her incredible musicianship. Lately I’ve felt the urge to put into words simple breakdowns of what that is, and this powerful musician demonstrates it so clearly in her playing. If you’re curious, her name is 蘇暢 (Su Chang). The videos and recordings I found of her don’t remotely do justice to her live playing and presence, though they do offer a glimpse. It is a persuasive reminder of the importance of going to live performances—easier said than done, however, for people like me whose introverted and antisocial streaks create more than a bit of resistance.
Beyond her flawless control and incredibly layered, compelling storytelling, there is an almost dance-like quality to her movement that is part and parcel of her music-making. It reveals a perfect union: an intellectual understanding of the music, a thorough grasp of how to translate that into a story, and a deep, nuanced communication of feeling without a hint of falsity or extraneousness. It’s thrilling to see how completely her gestures become part of the sound. They are part of the drama that makes the music feel unimaginably vast, alive, and captivating—adding a richer, 3D level to the experience. I am not sure I have ever seen such an all-encompassing, powerful physical and aural embodiment of drama in music (as opposed to superfluous theatrics). And oh, her sense of time: the flawless integration of rhythm between her gestures and the musical pulse amplifies the effect of both to degrees I had not known possible.
Part of my awe likely stems from the novelty of this musical style to me (it’s not even entirely to my taste, but I am in awe of how it is executed). This is exactly why I think we must not stay stuck in our own lanes. I love being inspired by the "different-same," and how wide we cast that net is limited only by our imagination and capacity. I believe this breadth of capacity determines the quality of a mind. Ultimately, I know my true limits are not defined by what I can or cannot do, but by where I feel resistance or blockages—whether intellectual, emotional, or otherwise—to stretching how far I can connect the dots. In this case, the leap isn't even very wide, yet people so often fail to see the relevance between expertise in different instruments or genres, let alone between music and other fields.
Anyway, I am so happy to be playing alongside this highest level of artistry. A part of me would rather just watch and listen to fully absorb it, though!
This brings to mind another musician who feels like the natural, all-encompassing embodiment of music to me: the accordionist Richard Galliano. However, I don’t find the physical movement in his playing to be as defining as it is in Su Chang’s. Her quality is unique in my experience. I adore many, many great Western classical musicians. But I think because of the nature of the music, it’s much harder for classical instrumentalists to use physical movement to contribute to their expression. Or perhaps it isn’t even a matter of difficulty; maybe movement is simply not as essential to the makeup of Western classical instrumental music. Now I’m left with more questions about what it is we play and do. Opera singers certainly require a marriage between their gestures (acting) and singing—just look at Maria Callas. But in instrumental music, this feels like the first time I’ve experienced a level of unity between physical gesture and musical drama that elevates the entire experience in such a profound way.