Sunset at West Cliff Drive in Santa Cruz, one of my favorite places to check out live musicians. (Flickr/Phil Baird)

After a lot of thought, I have decided to conclude publishing new content to Diaspora California. Over the next few months, I will be moving these articles and interview Q&As over to Apsara, where I will be able to share them with an even wider audience of music fans.

Diaspora California started out two years ago as a project in my free time to explore and promote the diversity of California’s musical landscape. I am grateful for the experience, through which I met amazing new friends and musicians like Ashwin Batish, Diana Rowan, and Ferenc Tobak.

I thank you sincerely for your readership, and I hope that you will visit Apsara frequently, where great artists from California are featured with musicians from around the world.

-Sarah

The Sorin-White Orchestra, a group performing during the La Monica's heyday.

With a dance floor large enough for five thousand people, the La Monica Ballroom once glittered atop the Santa Monica Pier like a crown jewel. It nurtured the early swing music and dance scene of Los Angeles and although the ballroom itself no longer exists, its spirit lives on through the pier’s annual Twilight Dance Series.

Thursday nights during the summer for nearly thirty years, the pier has turned into an open-air ballroom—complete even with a dance floor on certain occasions. This year’s series kicks off next Thursday, and so I picked the two evenings that I most wish I could attend to share with you.

SaMo Mambo: Salsa, July 7

To save you the time that it took me searching on the internet for the meaning of “SaMo,” it is simply a short form of “Santa Monica.” I thought perhaps it was a cross between “salsa” and “mambo,” but the evening in any case does indeed feature Latin jazz and salsa music icon Oscar Hernández and the LA Salsa All Stars. The music and dancing begin with salsa lessons atop a special dance floor laid out for the occasion.

The talented Austin-based band Grupo Fantasma will also rock the pier with its high-energy, complex blend of cumbia, salsa, funk, and other genres. “La Conozco” (“I Know Her”) is a song from their album La Existential, which just garnered the group its first Grammy earlier this year.

“La Conozco”

A crowd gathers near the pier for a Squirrel Nut Zippers performance in 2009.

This evening is a true testament to Los Angeles’ still-thriving swing tradition and the overall evolution of the city’s music and dance scene into what is arguably the most vibrant and diverse on the West Coast. And this is again one of the special dance floor events.

Royal Crown Revue, a Los Angeles institution, will revive the sounds of the old La Monica Ballroom, while neo-funk band Orgone will evoke later decades. Singer Ameera Ali will join them, blending dream-like sounding vocals with pulsing dance beats, as in this version of “Lost Yourself.”

“Lost Yourself”

If you live in the Los Angeles area, there is absolutely no reason not to join the fun on Thursday nights this summer.

Always free, the Twilight Dance Series continues the legacy of the La Monica Ballroom and offers an unparalleled opportunity to experience dancing, ocean, and stars on beautiful nights such as are found only in Southern California (or “SoCal”).

Sorin-White Orchestra image by Carlos Lowry.

Squirrel Nut Zippers concert image by Malingerer.

Dear Friends,

It has been a busy yet utterly fulfilling spring with the launch of Apsara in April. I am just getting started with my summer writing projects, but undoubtedly June through September in California is a time to savor life a bit more. The unseasonably chilly and wet spring weather has finally departed the Bay Area and I am ready to embrace the summer.

Over the coming weeks, Diaspora California will bring you its new series of California Summer Postcards, highlighting the art, dance, and music on our wish list of summer experiences.

Now where to begin?

Our first postcard introduces a one-of-a-kind camp that transports the sounds and rhythms of Brazilian music and dance to California’s Russian River area.

Every summer, hundreds of students and professional artists from throughout the United States converge at the annual California Brazil Camp (CBC) to study with master Brazilian instructors. The camp provides an intense experience from morning to night each day for a week for artists ready to immerse themselves fully in the arts of Brazil.

Here is a glimpse of a 2009 drum ensemble session taught by Bahian percussionists Marcio Peeter and Wagner Abultre.

Never mind the homemade quality of this video, it captures the energy of the class! Peeter and Abultre will return to CBC this year.

There are many opportunities to perform onstage at CBC as well, such as this pandeiro duel between Carlinhos and Scott Kettner in 2007.

(ASIDE: For award-winning pandeirista Carlinhos, his instrument is a lifelong passion. He introduced many of the techniques used in pandeiro today and he also engages in innovative percussion collaborations, including working with a taiko group during his many years of living in Hawai’i.)

The scoop

CBC offers two sessions this summer: August 21–27 and August 28–September 3, with classes ranging from Orixas dance movement to bossa nova guitar. It promises to be an unforgettable arts immersion experience in an area of breathtaking redwoods!

Sarah

Originally from the Kabylia region of Algeria, Alileche moved to California in 1990 where he now lives in Berkeley. He is passionate about promoting understanding of the Amazigh history and culture of North Africa through his music, which he describes as “original songs based on traditional Amazigh music.” Two of his albums, including the latest, In Memory of a Hero, are dedicated to the late Amazigh musician Lounes Matoub (1956–1998). “He was a great musician, composer, and activist,” says Alileche.

Diaspora California recently spoke with Alileche about Amazigh history and culture, his life and music, and the belief in truth and freedom that inspires his music.

DC: What is the Kabylia region of Algeria like and what are some of the most important aspects of Amazigh culture?

MA: Kabylia is located roughly sixty miles east of Algiers, the capital of Algeria. It is a beautiful, mountainous, hilly region, and is maybe one of the few regions in Algeria that is still preserving the Amazigh heritage. I was born, raised, and lived there until I came to California in 1990.

We speak a language called “Tamazight” and some of us, especially the Imuchagh (Touaregs), still write the ancient script, which is called “Tifinagh.” It is one of the oldest scripts in the world.

Amazigh people can be found anywhere from Egypt all the way to Morocco and the Canary Islands, which are owned by Spain, and from the Mediterranean to the sub-Saharan regions of Africa. We believe that there are about twenty-five to thirty-five million Amazigh people living in North Africa and outside, mainly in Europe.

“Amazigh” means “free, noble people,” so we believe in freedom—not only in Kabylia, but across North Africa.

DC: Please briefly describe your instruments the mandol and bendir.

MA: The mandol is shaped like a mandolin, but is bigger in size with a long neck. It has frets and five, double silk strings. It is mainly played in Kabylia and Algiers where the chaabi style of music has evolved in the last one-hundred years.

The bendir—which in Tamazight we call “abendayer”—was invented three- to four-thousand years ago in Morocco, and then it was found all across North Africa among the Amazigh communities. It is a fourteen- to sixteen-inch frame drum, and inside it there are two to four strings that create a buzzing sound when you hit the skin of the drumhead. Now you can find the bendir, though made slightly differently, almost all over the world.

Chaabi music was created in Algiers by the Kabyle people who left the villages of Kabylia in the early 1800s. They moved to Algiers searching for work, and then they established themselves there and started creating this type of music in the nineteenth century. But the mandol used in chaabi only has four, double silk strings, and instead of singing in Tamazight or Kabyle it is sung in Algerian Arabic, which originated in Algiers and is called “Darja.”

DC: There is a strong underlying message of freedom and other related concepts in your music. What inspired this?

MA: Maybe because I come from North Africa, or Tamazgha, the land of free people, and was inspired by my ancestors, who fought for freedom for thousands of years and continue to fight today. Look what has happened in Tunisia, Egypt, etc.

I believe that every person should be free. Unfortunately that freedom had been taken away from us, and now I hope people will fight to get it back.

DC: What has your experience been like as a musician in California?

MA: I especially started producing music after moving to California in 1990, where I found out that people knew little or nothing about my people.

It is great to live in California—to see the growth in the number of people who are discovering the existence of Amazigh culture through my music is a great experience.

DC: Do you have any thoughts about the recent dramatic political events in North Africa and the Middle East?

MA: I am happy, excited, and inspired by what is going on there—the people finally are awakening. What we are experiencing right now is amazing, and I hope people in many countries will see great results soon. It is unfortunate to see people getting killed, but as they say: “Freedom is not given, it must be snatched from the hands of dictators.”

I am inspired to compose my very first song in English about the uprisings there, a song I hope to release soon.

Image courtesy Moh Alileche.

Please join us for our inaugural article: an interview with Ian Widgery, one of the two music producers behind the now-legendary Pathé 100: The Original Shanghai Divas Collection: Redefined.

If you enjoy what you read, we invite you to “follow” us on Twitter and “like” us on Facebook!

Gelb playing shakuhachi in Oakland's Municipal Rose Garden.

Despite the unanticipated delay to their preparations, the evening proves to be yet another success for In the Mood for Food. It is part of the popular bimonthly dinner-concert series that Gelb, who is also a professional musician, has been running for the past six years. The series has become so popular that it has a Facebook page with one thousand fans and an e-mail list of fifteen hundred names.

The masterful five-course menu on this particular evening consists completely of asparagus-based dishes, including Gelb’s signature tempeh and an exquisite dessert of doughnuts and ice cream—all flavorful to the extreme. Everything is also entirely vegan, which is the cornerstone of Gelb’s business. Despite the “bland” label so often assigned to vegan fare, In the Mood for Food draws a diverse clientele—ranging from committed vegetarians to lifelong omnivores. “We tend to attract people who love good food that is handcrafted from the finest possible, locally sourced ingredients,” states Gelb. In the Mood for Food uses a countless variety of ingredients from an extensive range of sources, such as organic peaches from Masumoto Family Farm near Fresno, tofu from Tofu Yu in Berkeley, and chocolate from Alegio, also in Berkeley.

Yuzu stuffed with Thai red curry.

After the first four courses of the dinner conclude, harpist Diana Rowan and kora player Daniel Berkman—both musicians of international repute—step forward  to perform. They play but a few feet away from the dinner guests and graciously stop throughout the performance to answer questions about their music and instruments, creating a remarkable, up-close-and-personal concert experience reminiscent of a nineteenth-century salon. Gelb, who is a professional shakuhachi artist and instructor with thirteen albums to his credit, sits on a set of steps near the front door absorbing the music with a glass of Belgian ale in hand. The smile on his face conveys his genuine love of music and the passion that he puts into these events.

Dessert is served after the concert finishes, with generous extra helpings of ice cream for anyone who possibly has any room left after the four previous delicious and filling courses. Guests linger, enjoying conversation and a last glass of wine before departing. Although the evening commenced with a fire alarm, it unfolded with the tranquil tempo of a blooming flower—not unlike the languid pacing of In the Mood for Love.

Pies made with peaches from Masumoto Family Farm.

Vegans, vegetarians, and omnivores alike will enjoy In the Mood for Food’s dinner-concert series. Complete with lovely, candlelit tables, the various lofts in which it takes place offer an inviting urban setting for inventive and superb food, intriguing conversation, and world-class music. For a complete list of upcoming dinner-concerts—including a rare performance in June by renowned bass players Barre Phillips and Mark Dresser—and for more details about In the Mood for Food’s catering and personal chef services, visit them online at Facebook or at Gelb’s blog.

All images by Cori Spence.

Soul Majestic performing at Studio 7 in Seattle.

Soul Majestic’s core members Eric Iverson (vocals and melodica), Oriana Sanders (vocals), David Lyons (guitar), and Brian Jarvis (bingi drum  and DJ vocals) strive consciously to promote the band’s mission of raising “awareness of global interconnectedness, and how people’s actions impact one another and the earth.” When touring, the band travels in a fifteen-passenger biodiesel van. Their music is intelligent and soulful, and simply makes you feel good.

“We’ve been inspired by music from Jamaica and the Caribbean,” says Sanders. “But . . .there’s also sort of an element of our California upbringing in our music. It’s . . . become a blend that’s very unique—between California sound and authentic Jamaica sound.” Iverson describes Soul Majestic’s music as having a “reggae foundation, but with multiple international foundations coming through it.” The band, which recorded its most recent album Better World in Santa Cruz, has also recorded at Kingston’s  famous Tuff Gong Studio. (Ajnag, July 2009)

Released in the wake of the 2008 U.S. economic crisis and the Bush era, Better World takes a pointed, yet optimistic look at tough global issues. “Seek the Truth” speaks against political manipulation, with references to military actions taken during the George W. Bush administration:

Remember Taliban, most-wanted Bin Laden,
His poster gone and replaced with Saddam then,
They tricked the world, Weapons of Mass Deception,
How many more till we question?

But Soul Majestic does not get bogged down in negativity;  instead, the song closes with the band urging: “Stand firm and meditate, don’t get caught up in hate. Keep moving in the right direction.”

“First Light” is arguably the best track on the album, if not the most uplifting. It is an idyllic description of waking up and mindfully embracing the day. The musical inspiration that Iverson takes from nature is evident in the lyrics:

Can’t take this view from here for granted,
The hills filled with trees are enchanted,
We tilled the soil, we planted,
At first light we watered and mended.

Soul Majestic has recently become involved with the movement to defend the use of medical cannabis, which resulted from Sanders’ own use of the plant during the time that she was treated for Hodgkin’s lymphoma. The band has just released a new single about the cannabis debate entitled “Medical Condition (215).”

To learn more about Soul Majestic and their music, visit them online at www.soulmajestic.com.

Iverson and Sanders will be performing in Santa Cruz at the Rejuvenation Festival on May 14 and the entire band at Moe’s Alley on May 15.

Image by Paul David Gibson.

Photo by Teresa Tam

A sheer love of playing the guitar led Yuri Liberzon to become a professional musician. “It is directly connected with who I am,” he says.

Originally from Novosibirsk, Russia’s third largest city, Liberzon received both his first guitar and his first computer at age six. Initially, he laughs, learning computers held more of an interest for him. He studied guitar while at the same time learning about computers on his own, inspired by his father, an electronics engineer, and attending a science- and technology-focused high school in Tel Aviv, Israel where he and his family moved when he was ten years old. Eventually, Liberzon switched to a different high school where he could spend most of his time in the music department. Although he maintains a strong interest in technology and is fearless when it comes to taking apart and working on computers, guitar eventually emerged as his primary passion.

In Israel, Liberzon studied with guitarist Yaron Hasson, who he describes as “very spiritual” and the person who taught him about the transcendental aspect of music. Liberzon eventually “fell in love” with the playing of renowned guitarist Manuel Barrueco and moved to the United States to study with him at the John Hopkins University’s Peabody Institute. He was then awarded a full scholarship to Yale University where he went on to earn a master’s degree in music.

Moving to California a little over a year ago, Liberzon now resides in the San Francisco Bay Area where he performs widely and teaches at his newly opened studio in Mountain View. His love of guitar connects his musical experiences in the three countries where he has lived. Liberzon’s experience in each place has influenced his playing to a degree and has made him an overall stronger individual. His musical interests and repertoire are very broad, spanning many genres, countries, and cultures. Citing the Beatles as one of his earliest musical influences, Liberzon’s large repertoire includes an array of works, ranging from “Michelle,” one of his favorite pieces by the Beatles, to the Adagio movement from composer Joqauin Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez. “If music is great, it is great—you cannot argue with it,” he says, “I find the best of what connects with me.”

Photo by Arek Barbecki

Whether playing for a concert-hall audience or a small gathering, Liberzon combines masterful guitar technique with richly emotive sound. He is noted for his ability to connect with his audiences, which he credits as simply being himself while performing. Liberzon describes the necessity of mastering technique in order to be able to tap into deeper levels of musical expressivity, particularly in classical music where technique is a major element. Technique also helps with organizing the emotions being expressed through the music. At the same time, Liberzon warns against focusing purely on technique. “You start neglecting your actual expression,” he suggests, “So it is important when you are working on your technical ability to focus on why you are doing it.” He also points to the need for a certain degree of spontaneity in music, saying, “It will not be music anymore in a way [if there is no spontaneity at all]. It will be perfect. The beauty of music is not that it is perfect . . . It changes. Every time you play it is a bit different. I think that is actually what makes music more interesting.”

As Liberzon continues to settle into life in California, this talented young guitarist looks forward to connecting and performing with more orchestras, and to beginning to record favorite pieces from his vast repertoire.

I think that we are very lucky to be in such a beautiful place, [and] to have such tolerance and such interest and depth of understanding . . . I find that people over here have this special connection with not just the arts but . . . [also] with India.

-Ashwin Batish

Keshav, on tabla, and Ashwin, on sitar, performing together.

With the one-year anniversary of Diaspora California at the end of August, it surprises me less and less to discover the talented artists–many of whom have distinguished careers–who reside quietly in unassuming places in California. It did not take me off guard then to learn that the family of the late Pandit Shiv Dayal Batish, a prominent playback singer and film music director from India, has lived for nearly 40 years in the small, charmingly eclectic city of Santa Cruz. S.D. Batish’s son, Ashwin, who is devoted to carrying on his father’s musical legacy, invited me recently to his studio to speak with him and his 12 year-old son Keshav, a budding multi-instrumentalist, about music, family, and Santa Cruz.

S.D. Batish came from the city of Patiala in the Indian state of Punjab. Before the Partition of 1947 split India and Pakistan in two, he made his name in the music of Lahore’s early “Lollywood” film industry. He went on to become a prominent radio artist in Delhi and then a musician for film soundtracks in Bombay. His wife, Shanta Devi, a singer for All India Radio, and their five children traveled along wherever his career took him, including England in the mid-1960s and finally the United States where they settled in the early 1970s when S.D. Batish came to teach at the University of California, Santa Cruz. “Being in one place did not go well with my father because he was a traveler,” said Ashwin, “We always followed–he always made sure that we followed wherever he went.”

From his childhood, Ashwin grew up surrounded by music and in close proximity to celebrity. S.D. Batish performed and composed for such Indian film music legends as Mohammad Rafi, Asha Bhosle, and Lata Mangeshkar and later in England he played on the soundtrack of the Beatles film Help! Ashwin spoke of the awe of seeing his father mingling with celebrities and receiving applause from thousands of people, but he said, “More than that. . . I still remember my father’s veena . . . in Bombay when he was practicing at five o’clock in the morning. Lying there [in bed], it was just like being in heaven.”

S.D. Batish with tanpura

Ashwin maintains that family is the “biggest support that you can have” and it was growing up watching his father that he developed his musical skills and his deep understanding and appreciation for music. His father, he said, discouraged him and his siblings from pursuing music as a career because of the endemic challenge in a musician’s life to make a steady living. Nonetheless, Ashwin has devoted most of his life to music and has brought his own children up in a home filled with it. His son Keshav, in particular, performs regularly with him. Ashwin does not believe in pushing children to study music. “Music is not a discipline–it is an art,” he said, “It is something that you just have to feel–it is a spiritual thing. So if you try to get very disciplinary in this thing then it turns them off.”

Sitar power

Ashwin’s own musical repertoire ranges from classical to fusion and he initially made a name for himself with the worldbeat trend of the 1980s. His trademark “sitar power”–which appears on the cap that he usually sports–was coined during this period. There is a strongly spiritual and even a metaphysical quality to the way he describes music. “You are by your very nature tuned like an instrument,” said Ashwin, “That is why music is so beautiful . . . With my sitar, if I play the top notes the bottom notes vibrate–it is called sympathetic vibration. In the same way, your body has sympathetic nerves that are already in you so that when you hear music they sympathize and this is how you can react . . . There is no theory behind why we do it; it is just in us. It is one of the laws of nature I would say . . . Literally we are all vibrations, so that is why a bunch of notes that are attractive to you are actually a part of you . . . You are a part of it and it is a part of you.”

Since the death of S.D. Batish in 2006, Ashwin has devoted himself to publishing his father’s compositions–approximately 3000 on the Hindustani music system and 2500 on the Carnatic system–with the goal of making them fully available online. S.D. Batish composed many “Raga Lakshan Geet” introductory songs on North Indian ragas with both English and Sanskrit lyrics. Ashwin intends to publish these in an easily accessible text and audio format. Going all of the way back to the early days of Gopher, the Batish family has long utilized the internet for publishing information about Indian classical music. Ashwin faces a daunting task of getting all of his father’s material online and spoke of hoping to find people to collaborate with on this project. He believes that the compositions, which were composed specifically for native English speakers studying Hindustani and Carnatic classical music, will be an invaluable resource in the online format.

The Batish family has found strong support in Santa Cruz from the very beginning and Ashwin finds the music community very collegial. The only downside to being a musician in Santa Cruz, Ashwin maintains, is the lack of places to perform. “I think that we are very lucky to be in such a beautiful place,” he said, “to have such tolerance and such interest and depth of understanding . . . I find that people over here have this special connection with not just the arts but . . . [also] with India.” Ashwin shows his appreciation for Santa Cruz, as well as the South Bay in general, by frequently holding fundraising concerts for local organizations, such as a recent benefit concert for the Santa Cruz Art League.

For the future, in addition to working on publishing his father’s compositions, Ashwin will continue to give music lessons and perform locally. He is also working on a new album, Sitar Power 3, which will feature vocals by his sister Meena Batish. A tour with Keshav is also in the works. Ashwin maintains the website of the Batish Institute of Indian Music and Ragmala, an online video and radio site, which streams music and educational content featuring members of the Batish family and their friends.

Image of Keshav and Ashwin by Vaughn Visnius.
All other images courtesy Ashwin Batish.

The guqin is an example of how a traditional art form can survive in a globalized environment. Sometimes globalization is a good thing, such as in the case of economics—in China especially the economy has grown very fast. But it can also be a very dangerous thing for an art form. . . . If something has been damaged or changed it will be hard to go back, so that is why I think maintaining the traditional way of the guqin is more important than expanding.

-Wang Fei

Wang Fei with guqin

The guqin is the oldest string instrument of China, with a documented history of about 3000 years. Other Chinese musical instruments that people probably have heard of, such as pipa, erhu, and yangqin, are very popular nowadays, but actually these instruments are not originally from China. They are from the Middle East. But the guqin is from China. It has been part of a tradition cultivated by Chinese scholars at least since the time of Confucius. It was very popular among the scholar class, but never a popular instrument with everyone. It was a skill required of scholars in ancient times. As a scholar, you were expected to be skilled in four arts, which were the quqin, the game of go, calligraphy, and painting. I think it is getting more popular now than it was before. Its popularity has grown rapidly since 2003 when UNESCO named it an Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity. But still when compared with other musical instruments, for example piano or violin, it is popular with a very small percentage people in China. My personal opinion is that it cannot be a popular instrument, but it will never disappear.

How did you first become interested in the qin and what led you to start studying it?

I have studied the guqin with the great master Professor Li Xiangting of the Central Conservatory of Music since I was a child and have played for over 25 years. Everyone thinks that the guqin should be my career. In fact, I have worked in the United States and China in many fields–as a journalist, radio host, columnist, cultural consultant, art director, and multimedia producer–and have been very successful, but the guqin has never been a career for me. Playing the guqin is a way of life. I never want to it to be my livelihood. Perhaps that is the beauty of distance–that I have always fresh feelings for the guqin.

The guqin is not merely a musical skill, it embodies the entirety of Chinese culture and tradition. I pursued a major in Chinese Culture and Literature and later came to the United States pursue an MA in Multimedia. My studies helped me to deepen my understanding of guqin music and to promote it in a broader way.

I grew up in quite a traditional Chinese family, so we were raised by my parents in a very traditional way. My parents are very educated. I was born in the midst of China’s Cultural Revolution and at that time everything related to old culture, thinking, behavior, and customs was forbidden. In the daytime, we praised the New China and the Communist Party and in the nighttime, which was my happiest time, we listened to the forbidden old stories that our parents secretly told us. I remember that every day our mom told us a different story. She was a musician and used to work in an opera house and so she always told old stories and legends. We grew up that way, so we knew a lot of legends and stories related to the guqin. One day, after the Cultural Revolution, I was visiting a museum when suddenly I heard an unusual type of background music–new but also very familiar. In that instant, my heart skipped a beat. I knew this was what I really wanted in life. Even now, I vividly remember that exciting moment. I told myself that I must learn to play it or I would die.

As soon as I discovered guqin music, I started on a long journey to find an instrument. I visited all of the local music stores and sent letters of inquiry to many instrument factories. I drew pictures of guqin and pretend that I was playing on the paper. I even tried to make a guqin myself. Finally, a salesman located a guqin for me after seeing me visit many, many times. I was so excited but also very disappointed–the price was incredibly high. At that time, China was still very poor and most families did not have any savings. My parents said nothing, but they sold all of their jewelry and antiques which had been handed down for generations and bought me a guqin–they knew that indeed was my dream. So, when I got my first guqin I felt that I owned the world.

After I got my instrument, I then needed to find a teacher. At that time it was not like now when you can find information on the internet. Everything relied on the radio. So, I used to always check the radio program schedule. My teacher Li Xiangting was often on radio programs about the guqin, so he was the number one person I had in mind when I was looking for a teacher. At that time I was very passionate and would get up very early. The guqin programs were always very early at 4:00 a.m. in the morning. I would have to get up early at 3:00 a.m. in order not to miss any guqin music.

My father’s friend was in the Central Conservatory of Music and was a neighbor of my teacher. We asked him to ask my teacher whether he could find a student to teach my sister and I. We were afraid to ask him because he was a big fish and a very famous master of the guqin and we were only little girls. My father’s friend told my teacher the story of how we tried to make a guqin. Actually, my teacher had a very similar experience when he first wanted to learn to play the guqin in the 1950s. He told my father’s friend, “I do not need to find a student to teach them, I will teach them myself free of charge.” From there on, my life was changed. It opened a door for me to view the world. Before I did not know what the meaning of life was or what I was going to do—I just liked to play and run. My teacher is not only my teacher—he is my mentor. Not only did I learn the skills of guqin from him, I also learned a way of life.

Wang Fei in Tang Dynasty dress

Please tell me a little bit about the activities of the North American Guqin Association (NAGA), including how you are using the internet to connect members.

I established the North American Guqin Association in 1997 when I came here. Actually, before I came here I had the idea. When I got my visa, I thought, “How can I continue my guqin playing?” When I was in China, I never thought that I needed to have a musical career or to teach the guqin—there was no such responsibility on my shoulders. When I came to the United States, in the Bay Area there was no one who played the qin. It seems that I am still the only one who teaches and performs now. I thought that it was a very heavy responsibility on my shoulders because it is what I learned from my teacher. He himself inherited the skills from his teacher.

When I came here to study multimedia, I thought, “The guqin is an old art form that needs a new technology to help promote it.” At that time the internet had just started so I put up my first Web site. I was just testing the new technology. After I published my Web site, in a very short time I got a response from England. A man named Julian Joseph wrote and said how difficult it was to find qin friends or a teacher. He had taught himself the qin for about one to two years. He said how exciting it was to find the Web site and how difficult it was to find people with the same interest. From there I found out that there are people similar to him in different parts of the world who cannot find qin friends. I found out that the internet is a very good way of connecting people globally who are interested in the qin. That is why I became serious about establishing a North American Guqin Association Web site to connect with different people. We were the first association to have a Web site—either in English or in Chinese–and we were the first guqin Web site. I was glad to see that people followed after I set this as a model. I think that it offers a lot of possibilities for getting to know people and the guqin.

The concept of NAGA is adopted from what in history was called a “qin society.” Originally with this type of society people would meet regularly and play the qin and talk about culture. It was actually a meeting place and it would also offer classes. Usually the head of the organization was the master player and teacher. The master and students formed the organization and had events. Later on they would probably have their own repertoire and book, and then become a qin school.

When I came here, I felt that since the Bay Area has a lot of stress I wanted to introduce this kind of traditional Chinese lifestyle to people. So I established NAGA, which offers classes and has gatherings and performances. In order to teach English-speaking students who do not have any other background in China besides an interest in the guqin, I come up with different courses. For example, I offer a poetry and guqin music class. Students not only learn the guqin, but at the same time they also learn some Chinese poetry. The guqin is a very good tool for learning about Chinese culture.

NAGA organizes guqin gatherings and invites guest speakers from different fields, like kunqu opera, calligraphy, and taiqi. We also invite scholars—for example my teacher and other qin players from different states and countries—to come to collaborate. In 2002, we did the first online guqin concert in history. At that time there was no YouTube, but we already were using live streaming video. China was applying then for UNESCO’s Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity designation for the guqin, so I thought that it was a good way for people outside of China to know this art form. Now that we have moved into the Web 2.0 era, I think about how to use the internet to market the guqin and NAGA. For example, we have a Facebook group and are on Twitter.

Recently, I did a multidisciplinary project called “From Beijing to San Francisco” and invited Li Xiangting to come here and collaborate with me for the Performing Diaspora Festival organized by San Francisco’s CounterPULSE. Even though I used different art forms and packaged guqin music in a new way, the content was still very authentic. I think that it is a very good way to reach a new audience. Before, the audience that I reached was comprised of people who have an interest in classical Chinese music or traditional Chinese culture. But now I want to expand my audience to people who are interested in dance or theater.

The guqin is an example of how a traditional art form can survive in a globalized environment. Sometimes globalization is a good thing, such as in the case of economics—in China especially the economy has grown very fast. But it can also be a very dangerous thing for an art form. As a musician it may be possible to become more recognized in a globalized world. I could have more performances if, for example, I collaborated with jazz, pop, or Western musicians or frequently appeared in such settings as Chinese New Year galas, clubs, or bars, but these are not the right settings—people may misunderstand what the guqin is. I need to maintain the guqin as a traditional art form and to maintain what I learned from my teacher. It is difficult to maintain a tradition, but it is very easy to damage it. After you damage something it can be very difficult to go back to the way it was. For example, many of the old siheyuan courtyard houses and the city walls of Beijing have been torn down to make way for big buildings. We wanted to move into the big buildings because the siheyuan were too old, but if people want to go back and move into newly built siheyuan it will be different from before. So that is what I am talking about. If something has been damaged or changed it will be hard to go back, so that is why I think maintaining the traditional way of the guqin is more important than expanding.

To learn more about NAGA’s activities and about the guqin visit them online at their website.

Interview Details: January 31, 2010. Phone interview. Sarah Lin Bhatia.

Images courtesy Wang Fei.