“I am a very serious composer”, Tan Chan Boon repeatedly emphasized throughout the night.
I met up with the composer to talk about his recent work, The Quartet for Trio, composed for the Sen森Trio’s debut recital. Tan was quick to give a disclaimer, “The Quartet is not an accurate representation of my style, I don’t usually write music like that! This is a relatively playful piece, but I’m often a serious composer.”
Playful is surely an overstatement of what sounded like whimsically eerie bird songs in a mythical forest, imitated by the Sen森Trio’s Lee Shi Mei on violin and Ke Yi-Chun on flute atop Bryan Lee’s swirling harp glissandi in their recital last night. Perhaps the description has less to do with the character of the work’s tunes than its subject matter. But even if the Quartet were to be regarded as merely atmospheric music, there's often more than meets the ear. Its second section, simply dubbed “The Romance” and described in the programme notes as self-explanatory, suffused with a restlessness that was apparent next to Dubois' more purposefully reflective Terzettino.
Or still perhaps Tan was referring to the unusual medium that the work was composed for. The flute, viola and harp combination first gained traction following Debussy’s seminal Trio Sonata, one of his Six Sonatas for Diverse Instruments. The Sen Trio appeared to be of one mind both with the composer and amongst themselves, at every turn having the same idea of how their colours ought to complement or contrast with one another’s. What stood out in particular were timbral shifts so seamless as to deceive the ear into thinking that fewer instruments were playing than there really were.
Tan’s Quartet featured a more unusual kind of timbral shift - that accomplished by a single musician on two instruments. At the end of the first section, Lee holds a long G on the violin which - if you weren’t looking - grows impossibly mellow. The idea of changing between instruments originated from Lee, but Tan choreographed the sequence carefully, down to the minutest details such as placing a soft object underneath the bigger viola to create the perfect angle for Lee to bow the “G” strings of the two instruments together easily. And that’s just for starters. In the transition section, Tan showcases Lee’s remarkable agility by having her switch repeatedly between sprightly arpeggios on the violin and languid sighs on the viola.
The concept of the Quartet is rather interesting, I offered. But Tan dismissed the opinion. “I would think that many of my other works are much more interesting.” For me, an interesting work would be filled with novel concepts in sound, rhythms and tonality, but Tan prefers to dig deep within established traditions. “Innovative ideas should be used sparingly. Once their impact is felt it is enough; it is too overwhelming to listen to 30 minutes worth of unconventionality even if it’s very creative.” But he is quick to add, “Being traditional does not mean that I disapprove of creativity though. One must be open-minded nowadays. I enjoy new ideas, but I will refrain from experimenting for the sake of it.”
I was amazed to discover the full extent of Tan’s ‘traditionalism’. Believe it or not, Tan has never relied on the computer. The notation software Sibelius was released almost twenty years ago, and I was curious to find out how he coped without highly useful features like the MIDI synthesizer which would enable him to preview his compositions. “I think true creativity must come from the human heart and mind. I don’t want to be tempted to misuse the computer, such as using that function as a trial-and-error tool.”
Not even generating individual parts from the full score, as I found out at the Sen Trio’s recital. Tan showed me samples of his beautifully hand-copied scores; I did not take any pictures, but readers need only to check out this post from Dr Chang Tou Liang’s blog to understand why most of his friends who premiered his works did not mind reading his handwriting.
What’s most amazing about Tan is the passion that radiates from him as he talks about music. “You must pour your feelings and thoughts into your music… and love! Without love, it would not be possible for Beethoven or Brahms to compose timeless music, and without deep feelings, the newer generations would never be able to surpass the old masters.”
Trained in the prestigious École Normale de Musique de Paris, Tan Chan Boon was made a Chevalier dans l'ordre des Arts et des Lettres (Knight of the Order of the Arts and Literature) by the French Government in 2008. He has produced numerous chamber works, four symphonies with a fifth on its way, and plans to compose a ‘signature’ violin concerto. Apart from composing, he is also President (and one of the founders) of the Gustav Mahler and the Anton Bruckner Societies in Singapore.
I met up with the composer to talk about his recent work, The Quartet for Trio, composed for the Sen森Trio’s debut recital. Tan was quick to give a disclaimer, “The Quartet is not an accurate representation of my style, I don’t usually write music like that! This is a relatively playful piece, but I’m often a serious composer.”
Playful is surely an overstatement of what sounded like whimsically eerie bird songs in a mythical forest, imitated by the Sen森Trio’s Lee Shi Mei on violin and Ke Yi-Chun on flute atop Bryan Lee’s swirling harp glissandi in their recital last night. Perhaps the description has less to do with the character of the work’s tunes than its subject matter. But even if the Quartet were to be regarded as merely atmospheric music, there's often more than meets the ear. Its second section, simply dubbed “The Romance” and described in the programme notes as self-explanatory, suffused with a restlessness that was apparent next to Dubois' more purposefully reflective Terzettino.
Or still perhaps Tan was referring to the unusual medium that the work was composed for. The flute, viola and harp combination first gained traction following Debussy’s seminal Trio Sonata, one of his Six Sonatas for Diverse Instruments. The Sen Trio appeared to be of one mind both with the composer and amongst themselves, at every turn having the same idea of how their colours ought to complement or contrast with one another’s. What stood out in particular were timbral shifts so seamless as to deceive the ear into thinking that fewer instruments were playing than there really were.
Tan’s Quartet featured a more unusual kind of timbral shift - that accomplished by a single musician on two instruments. At the end of the first section, Lee holds a long G on the violin which - if you weren’t looking - grows impossibly mellow. The idea of changing between instruments originated from Lee, but Tan choreographed the sequence carefully, down to the minutest details such as placing a soft object underneath the bigger viola to create the perfect angle for Lee to bow the “G” strings of the two instruments together easily. And that’s just for starters. In the transition section, Tan showcases Lee’s remarkable agility by having her switch repeatedly between sprightly arpeggios on the violin and languid sighs on the viola.
The concept of the Quartet is rather interesting, I offered. But Tan dismissed the opinion. “I would think that many of my other works are much more interesting.” For me, an interesting work would be filled with novel concepts in sound, rhythms and tonality, but Tan prefers to dig deep within established traditions. “Innovative ideas should be used sparingly. Once their impact is felt it is enough; it is too overwhelming to listen to 30 minutes worth of unconventionality even if it’s very creative.” But he is quick to add, “Being traditional does not mean that I disapprove of creativity though. One must be open-minded nowadays. I enjoy new ideas, but I will refrain from experimenting for the sake of it.”
I was amazed to discover the full extent of Tan’s ‘traditionalism’. Believe it or not, Tan has never relied on the computer. The notation software Sibelius was released almost twenty years ago, and I was curious to find out how he coped without highly useful features like the MIDI synthesizer which would enable him to preview his compositions. “I think true creativity must come from the human heart and mind. I don’t want to be tempted to misuse the computer, such as using that function as a trial-and-error tool.”
Not even generating individual parts from the full score, as I found out at the Sen Trio’s recital. Tan showed me samples of his beautifully hand-copied scores; I did not take any pictures, but readers need only to check out this post from Dr Chang Tou Liang’s blog to understand why most of his friends who premiered his works did not mind reading his handwriting.
What’s most amazing about Tan is the passion that radiates from him as he talks about music. “You must pour your feelings and thoughts into your music… and love! Without love, it would not be possible for Beethoven or Brahms to compose timeless music, and without deep feelings, the newer generations would never be able to surpass the old masters.”
Trained in the prestigious École Normale de Musique de Paris, Tan Chan Boon was made a Chevalier dans l'ordre des Arts et des Lettres (Knight of the Order of the Arts and Literature) by the French Government in 2008. He has produced numerous chamber works, four symphonies with a fifth on its way, and plans to compose a ‘signature’ violin concerto. Apart from composing, he is also President (and one of the founders) of the Gustav Mahler and the Anton Bruckner Societies in Singapore.
This post first appeared on The Music Wire: Are You Listening?, please read the originial post: here
