A deeper look at USA-China relations and their respective histories through a musical lens.

The relationship between China and America has always been a fraught one, due to their inherent competition as fellow superpowers vying for influence, and their opposing ideologies. But it is when no compromise can be made that softer approaches come into play, that is, through means such as sports and the arts.

Exploring that is artist Ming Wong, with his lecture-performance work Rhapsody In Yellow, which made its Asian premiere as part of the Esplanade’s The Studios season 2024. The work itself is unusual, where Ming is not physically present to deliver the performance, instead overlaying his voice over archival film footage that traces the history of relations between America and China.

Watching the film, we are introduced to the origins of ping-pong diplomacy, where the national table tennis teams of both countries ended up playing a friendly match with each other in 1971, when the American team visited China, the first official American delegation to set foot in the Chinese capital since 1949, before the Chinese team visited America in 1972. This paved the way for the warming of relations between the two nations, and culminated in the historic handshake between Mao Zedong and then-president Richard Nixon.

While table tennis itself doesn’t feature literally for the remainder of the performance, it acts as an extended metaphor for the way America and China’s relations ran hot and cold from that point on. This manifests in Ming’s decision for how the rest of the show runs – as pianists Ben Kim and Mark Taratushkin come out onstage, seating themselves in front of two grand pianos facing each other. Representing China and USA, they take turns to play the Yellow River Piano Concerto and Rhapsody in Blue respectively, almost as if in conversation with each other, or trading blows, attempting to show off their superiority.

Onscreen, we continue to view historical footage that delves into the origins of both of these tunes, both deemed nationalist symbols representative of their country and even played at respective Olympic ceremonies when they hosted it. There are times the live cameras switch over to either Mark or Ben, and they begin to take over the narration instead, each one clearly representing one of the two countries.

For the 1924 Rhapsody In Blue, we initially learn of Gershwin and the complexity of the tune itself, perhaps with its own hodgepodge improvised style representative of American diversity, where anyone can make it given enough hard work and opportunity. When Gershwin’s section is over, Ming then delves into conductor Leonard Bernstein’s life instead, and goes into his efforts that went towards conducting concerts in places such as Germany as a means of rallying for peace through music, or even his 1972 Counter-Inaugural, a literal concert for peace held the night before Richard Nixon’s second inauguration.

Meanwhile, for the Yellow River Piano Concerto, we dive back into the tumultuous story behind composer Xian Xinghai. Originally inspired by a patriotic poem, the composition was first known as the Yellow River Cantata in 1939, acting as inspiration for its listeners to participate in the war efforts against Imperial Japan. Fast-forward to the Cultural Revolution, and the Cantata was banned from being performed, where any Western instrument and music were seen as capitalist symbols and pianos were literally burnt and destroyed. Enter pianist Yin Chengzong, whose efforts to accompany revolutionary songs in Tiananmen Square were noticed by Mao Zedong’s wife. Commissioned to rearrange the cantata into a four-movement piano concerto, it found new significance as the Yellow River Piano Concerto, and became a means of unifying and rallying the people towards Mao’s China.

Ming’s chosen footage is frenzied, but well-curated, showcasing each of our musical protagonists in a generous, almost heroic light. While for the most part, the narrative does follow a clear chronological order, it can often feel like an overload of information, particularly due to how the parallels aren’t clearly spelt out for the audience, and we are left to draw the lines of connection on our own. In a way, one is then expected to simply allow the information and accompanying music to wash over us, appreciating how these epic pieces came to be and the storied histories behind them.

All this comes to a head with the meeting between Nixon and Mao, accompanied by footage that ranges from reality, to constructed, parody-like versions of the two former leaders, creating a sense of the uncanny valley as we watch various versions of them shaking hands and interacting with each other. Onstage, Ben crosses over to Mark’s seat, and the two begin to play together, echoing the new diplomacy and ties between USA and China.

While it initially seems as if they’re competing, each of them playing their own respective composition, there is a surprising sense of symphony rather than cacophony, and it produces music rather than noise, a very visual and aural representation of cooperation in spite of differences. There’s even a moment Ben whips out a handphone to snap a wefie with Mark – but how sincere is this really, when there are times diplomacy ends up simply a facade while nursing animosity beneath?

As the histories reach their respective ends, we hit a point where Ming delivers a commentary on the modern day status between USA and China, and how their relationship continues to wax and wane, never clearly friends or enemies due to their respective superpower status, and how the world order hangs in the balance. But the show is not yet over, and in many ways, whatever came before feels like merely a prelude to the final, epic segment.

To close the entire performance, both pianists begin to play at their respective seats. We see footage of opening ceremonies of the Los Angeles 1984 Summer Olympics, and the Beijing 2008 Summer Olympics, alongside film footage, Bernstein passionately conducting in one scene, the Chinese orchestra playing in another. There is an increasing overlap between both sound and image, as the lines between both Rhapsody in Blue and Yellow River Piano Concerto begin to blur, neither quite able to accommodate each other as they attempt to drown each other out in a complicated musical battle, so well-directed by Henry Hao-An Cheng.

Much like in a fast-paced ping pong match, we begin to wonder where the ‘ball’ is now – where does the Rhapsody end and the Concerto begin? We are no longer able to tell, while we watch, enraptured as both pianists furiously play on, never missing a single note and totally concentrated on the instrument in front of them. It goes on and on, a back and forth where both pianists are giving it their all, until it at long lasts builds up and reaches a grand finale, as the lights go out and the atmosphere is filled with audience applause.

We are left overwhelmed by history and bowled over by talent, a lesson in soft power that is amplified by the live music. If anything, we gain a realisation for how powerful these often understated forms of influence can be, and perhaps, all results in a call for greater attention to both sports and the arts, and the impact they can have on both politics and the heart.

Photo Credit: Tuckys Photography

Rhapsody in Yellow played from 16th to 17th August 2024 at the Singtel Waterfront Theatre. More information available here

The Studios 2024 – Fault Lines runs from July to September 2024 at the Esplanade. Tickets and full programme available here

Production Credits:

Concept, Text and Video Ming Wong  Music Direction Henry Hao-An Cheng  Piano Ben Kim, Mark Taratushkin Music conceived by Ming Wong, Henry Hao-An Cheng  Arranged by Christopher Schlechte-Bond  Cinematography and Lighting Liam Morgan  Camera Assistance Elias Fritz  Technical Direction Torsten Podraza  Production Management Mariko Mikami