TAN DUN’S “BUDDHA PASSION” 

TAN DUN’S

“Buddha Passion” beguiles ears, minds, and hearts

By Kai Curry

NORTHWEST ASIAN WEEKLY

Witnessing Tan Dun’s “Buddha Passion” is like being in a Tibetan Buddhist temple, being in a Christian house of worship, and being in the church of Nature, all at the same time. Performed by Seattle Symphony on Nov. 10 and 12, and conducted by Tan, this “Passion” in six acts adroitly combined Buddhist jataka tales and ancient Sanskrit song and sutra in a message of compassion. It was at once extravagant and humble, not unlike Tan himself.

A screen above the stage transmitted the script to the audience in English and Chinese. A convention used in opera houses from time to time, it’s not something one expects when visiting the symphony. However, the Seattle Symphony is nothing if not an institution that regularly pushes boundaries and introduces new and exciting types of performance. “Buddha Passion” indeed is one part opera, in both Western and Chinese style. Several impressive vocalists joined the musicians, including baritone Elliot Madore, soprano Lei Xu, tenor Yi Li, and mezzo-soprano Megan Moore. Present also in the second half was Batubagen, a virtuoso in khoomei overtone, the Mongolian throat singing rapidly gaining popularity around the world.

This was only the beginning of everything that goes on during “Buddha Passion.” Behind the symphony stood the Seattle Symphony Chorale, and flanking them for part of the production, the Northwest Boychoir. In Act III, subtitled “Flying Pipa Dance,” Chen Yining floated across the stage in a glittering costume, a representation of an apsara, a celestial singer and dancer. Chen deftly played the pipa—sometimes behind her neck—while curving her body into

At the conclusion of “Buddha Passion,” Tan Dun thanked the Symphony and received a standing ovation from the audience. Photo by Brandon Patoc and courtesy of Seattle Symphony.

stunning poses as the music and script told a tale of a royal family. During Act IV, called “Zen Garden,” Tan recreated the origin of Zen Buddhism in Songshan Mountain, complete with koans, or Zen riddles, while two symphony members played upon large, transparent bowls of water, mimicking rain drops, a waterfall, or a trickling stream.

Musicians and vocalists alike were pushed to the limit by Tan’s creative manipulation of sound. The Weekly spoke to Olivia Chew, who plays viola for the symphony, and Carrie Wang, a pipa musician and educator, about what it was like to play Tan’s music.

“Tan Dun’s music is definitely very special, one of a kind,” Wang said, referring to Tan’s willingness to combine modern and traditional Chinese and Western musical forms, something not looked upon in a positive light in Tan’s native China at first, but which has gained acceptance now, especially after Tan’s success with the music for “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.”

Tan’s use of multiple types of sound, particularly percussion, is part of what makes him unique, explained Wang. In both “Buddha Passion” and “Ghost Opera,” another of Tan’s pieces, played by a quartet, in which Chew and Wang performed together on Nov. 11, Tan implemented multiple instruments from Nature, such as rocks, paper, and water. Wang and others were expected to play not only their own instruments in new ways, but to multi-task.

“I will say that in a lot of ways, ‘Ghost Opera’ is probably one of the most difficult pieces I’ve ever had to put together,” Chew admitted. “There are so many things that I’m just not used to.” In particular, Chew related how she learned to play upon a stone.

“You hold a flat stone up to your mouth, you change the shape of your mouth to adjust

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