However, I also find this sense of timelessness in Xiaoyong Chen’s contemporary pieces, some of which seem atonal or, perhaps better put, enchantingly noise-like.
AS: Yes, but Xiaoyong Chen is also someone who comes from a place of stillness. Someone once described it like this: Xiaoyong Chen erects pillars between which you can wander, while everything is enveloped in tranquility. You can listen to everything as it unfolds, and there’s a certain spirit of improvisation behind it. He gives instructions such as, “Feel it for yourself, and then just do it!” Rests: How long? No idea! There’s no goal. It emerges as you play. With Xiaoyong Chen, this is taken to the extreme.
Then there are the three pieces by John Tavener. They deal, among other things, with an obituary. Zodiacs is a particularly interesting work. You wouldn’t guess that it’s based on a twelve-tone row. At first, it actually seems simple, but it really isn’t. Thematically, it’s about the sun, the earth, and the moon in a wide variety of constellations. These are presented in three different sequences, and that’s exactly what you have to immerse yourself in. You begin to wonder what he might have had in mind—something absolute, something as vast as the universe—and you realize just how small you are in comparison.
You just said that you have to go in search of the sound. The pieces on the album come from completely different eras. You can hear that in the individual works, yet they also sound as though they belong to the present day.
AS: The instruments sounded completely different back then. So ideas about sound were very different from what they are today.
And when you factor in the recording technology, we’re talking about a completely different aesthetic.
AS: Not only that. I recently came across this in a conversation with a piano technician. We were discussing why Russian pianists used to rely much more on the left pedal. He explained to me that it couldn’t have been purely an aesthetic decision, since pianos were technically far less advanced back then. Pianists often had no other choice if they wanted to control the sound.
Apparently, though, it’s still used a great deal. A jazz pianist once told me he believed that most solo jazz piano recordings are played with the una corda pedal engaged. When you do that, the sound doesn’t just become quieter, but the entire tonal character changes.
AS: But it all depends on how the left pedal is adjusted. Not many technicians can regulate the pedal precisely—that is, adjust the shift so that exactly two strings are struck without touching the adjacent string group. This produces a timbre that I find very exciting. Sometimes, though, it can be distracting to hear too much of the shifting mechanism itself. At the same time, it’s often used as an effect, almost like a different register. The tone and timbre are different. When I strike a loud chord with the left pedal engaged and let it fade away, the vibration is different. I think that’s one of the things jazz musicians take advantage of.