Grammy-nominated Chinese-American composer Zhou Tian seeks inspiration from different cultures and strives to mix them seamlessly into a musically satisfying combination for performers and audience alike. His music — described as “absolutely beautiful,” “utterly satisfying” (Fanfare), and “a prime example of 21st-century global multiculturalism” (Broad Street Review) — has been performed by leading orchestras and performers in the United States and abroad, including the Pittsburgh Symphony, Hong Kong Philharmonic, and pianist Yuja Wang. His Concerto for Orchestra—commissioned and recorded by the Cincinnati Symphony and Music Director Louis Langrée—earned him a GRAMMY Award nomination for Best Contemporary Classical Composition in 2018. He is the Artist-in-Residence with the Shanghai Symphony for the 2019/20 season.

“Transcend”, co-commissioned by orchestras across the United States, including the Reno Philharmonic, Utah Symphony, Omaha Symphony, Sacramento Phil & Opera, Boise Philharmonic, Cheyenne Symphony and Arapahoe Philharmonic in Denver, had its Colorado premiere by the Arapahoe Philharmonic in November of 2019.

Devin Patrick Hughes: You’re born in China.. Listening to your music that is not 100% apparent. You have global influences, namely many different American schools. I also hear French influences in a lot of your music, particularly in “Prism” and the “Palace of the Nine Perfections”. Can you talk about some of your influences and also what it means to be a symphonic composer regardless of your culture or where you are born?

Zhou Tian: I came of age in a new China marked by economic reforms, shortly after the country opened up shop basically for the first time to the rest of the world in the late 70s/early 80s. Growing up, I experienced first hand this rush of new ideas, including all kinds of western music that people were prohibited to even listen to just a few years before. Finally, you can carry an album of Rolling Stones and a score of Rite of Spring without getting into trouble.

In terms of influences, I’m a firm believer that innovation and thorough understanding and respect for the tradition go hand-in-hand in creating a satisfying symphonic work. As a composer, I am empowered by the tradition, from medieval chants and Chinese folk music to Brahms and Stravinsky.

I grew up in a family that appreciates all kinds of music. Dad was a composer of commercialized music—think SNL Chinese version; he was the music producer for those types of shows—so I grew up practicing Beethoven on the piano as well as playing and arranging jazz and pop tunes with my dad. My teachers, when I arrived in America to study at the Curtis Institute and Juilliard, were all “American symphonists” with musical heritage from Barber and William Schuman, all of which have had great influences on my music. You are correct that the French composers also had an impact on my work. I used to play lots of French music on piano.

Outside of music, my recent works were inspired by things as different as a disappearing past due to industrialization (“Trace”); Father-daughter relations of a Spanish hero (“Viaje”); connecting Bach with Erhu, a traditional Chinese instrument (Violin Concerto); and mixing jazz and wind ensemble (“Petals of Fire”).

That’s cool. You mentioned your father is a commercial composer and I find today a lot of composers gravitate towards video games or movie music. It’s interesting you had that example and went straight to the concert hall. I don’t know much commercial music you’ve done - I think you’ve done one film?

Yes, that’s right, one full feature, and it was like ok, I got it! No, no, no, not really.. Actually, after that experience, I felt that I would enjoy creating concert music more. The process of commercial music is just so different, mainly because the music is only one of many ways to help the narrative of the story. Although film composers have lots of opportunities to tweak their work for the better, especially in post-production, and to create incredible soundscapes, I just feel it’s more exciting and more rewarding, at this stage, to work with live musicians to put things together, and to create music whose sole purpose is, well, the music itself.

So you almost posed the question “what is classical music?” a little bit earlier. That’s a good question. Often, classical music can have a negative connotation. I think you mentioned somewhere that the music you write, your music making, is an extension of what came before you, and I also kind of see your music like all the greatest composers working today: almost timeless and placeless. I just wonder what you think about the stigma of the term “classical music.” I think that in America it’s probably one of the most exciting times to be in symphonic music, because there’s so many different orchestras doing so many different things. Part of that is funding: we have to find an idea that really has never been done before in order to get NEA funding or for project grants or things like that. I’m wondering what your take is on the idea of classical music and the concert hall - even with orchestras that place an emphasis on new music, probably 50-75% of what we do is still from the last century or before. So it’s kind of a general discussion, but maybe your comments there…

To me classical music is not a particular style. It’s a platform, a ritual in our culture. Think about it, when I was a little kid in China, I went to a concert given by the Philadelphia Orchestra (one of the first orchestras to ever visit China). I just remember that I was fascinated by this ritualistic experience: you go to the concert hall, get seated, and the orchestra sits, and then the conductor comes out, then…MUSIC for 2 hours. There’s no talking during the concert, no intro, no images. It doesn’t matter what language you speak. No (one) stories to tell - each audience can imagine on their own. And it’s all being realized live and right in front you. To me, that’s classical music. It’s the best representation of the concept that music is a universal language. Of course you can play different pieces, and the repertoire can vary greatly. If the New York Phil plays Harry Potter in a concert, it’s classical music, even though the prior purpose of the music was for a film. But the ritual stays.

You mentioned Harry Potter. Somebody like John Williams, he’s taking music almost verbatim - of course he’s recreating it and remixing it - but melodies and even themes and motives come exactly from Dvorak, Strauss, Korngold, you know all these composers that came before. I don’t really hear that in your music - I don’t hear a melody from Ravel, or a style from Haydn. It’s quite distinct. Can you talk about how you’ve evolved as a composer to create such a unique individual voice?

I did it in a very natural way like most composers before me did. You cannot expect anyone to be born with a unique voice, I don’t quite buy that. You work on finding your voice gradually. And I’m still on my way. Everyone’s early pieces bear heavy influences of others. It’s only natural. Before everybody's Opus 1, there’s gotta be about 50 pieces which that we will never know. 50 pieces that collectively made the composer who they are. And then they burn those pieces:)

You burn it?

Of course! My Opus 1 is not my first piece! You think Schoenberg’s Opus 1 was his first piece? No, that was the first published piece, and they call it Opus 1. Before every Opus 1 there lies many works. You need those pieces to train for your craftmanship, and to kind of get rid of some of your influences. There is a lot of Haydn in early Beethoven, a lot of Beethoven in early Brahms, and Wagner in early Debussy. It’s a beautiful tradition in the classical music - the passing of a universal language through generations of composers. It’s a lineage, you can hear my teacher’s influences in my music and their teacher’s influences in their music.

Mozart referred to his compositional process as “writing it out” - it was already composed in his head. And in many instances he would not have the time, so he would not write his own piano part, and would just play it from his head in the concert. Do you see the whole composition before, or are you more motivically oriented. Can you talk about your process?

I’m a very intuitive composer. I would love to say I had the whole thing planned out, it just came to me, and from the first moment I know what the 25th minute would sound like. But that’s not true. I have a hard time fully believing that even some of the great composers just knew exactly how the music would happen before the very first note. I mean it’s natural to find the momentum of music. It’s like writing a character and then 100 pages into the story the character starts to speak for himself. I think it’s a similar thing with music is that you have a motif and you develop, develop, develop, and at some point there is no other option, the music must go there and then you just go there. It’s very linear to me, it’s an intuitive and feeling it out kind of process. Now of course, I have a general plan. This movement is fast or slow, and there’s a mood that I want it to express. But in terms of detailed music, measure by measure, I rarely plan out, and even if I did, the plan would always change.

So that’s a greater question of who’s doing the composing. I think it may have been Brahms who said when he was composing he would lose that time or something, like he wouldn’t be present for the pinnacles of the creative process. So is it you doing the composing or are you kind of being composed in some way?

Exactly! That’s a great way to put it, it’s like you seed, you know, the music and very carefully try to develop and then at some point you just know, by hearing the stuff you developed, how it will go. I believe what makes a composer who they are is that they see it no other way. For example, in Brahms’s Second (Symphony) (Zhou sings the opening of the symphony), he just knows that’s the only way to go on. I still believe it has to be quite intuitive. How boring would it be if everything is really planned out? Where’s the fun in that

And I think that’s kind of a trademark of a great piece: it couldn’t go any other way. It’s like a great novel or piece of art, there’s no other way that it could be done or it could have been done.

I think that’s a sign of the feeling of completion of music, the completion of ideas. When a piece is done well, it is so convincing to the audience that it’s hard to imagine there’s another way.

For some composers, it seems like it’s more of a work in progress. Updates are being made, and when we get in a rehearsal process, I or someone in the orchestra might make a suggestion and a composer might say “yea, let’s do it.” For your music and some of your scores that I’ve seen, it seems like it’s all done, like it’s all complete. So I wonder, is there something about your compositional process or experience that allows you to know this is going to work?

That’s a great question. I’m going to answer you in two parts. Number one, there is this idea like you said that the piece is not done until the first rehearsal and people keep changing it. I think to a degree that’s very healthy, very collaborative, and that’s great. But ultimately I believe very firmly it’s the composer’s duty to come up with a blueprint of the music that's exactly what he or she wants. You can change small things, but you cannot really correct concepts. If you are still correcting the very sound you thought you had written in the first rehearsal, you are just wasting time and it’s awfully unprofessional. Strictly speaking, especially in the orchestral world, the rehearsal process is not a lab for the composer to try out things. It is designed for the musicians to put together a piece that’s been written. If you are still rewriting the piece during the rehearsal, you are bound to have an under-rehearsed work. And then no one’s happy.
How to imagine a work fully and accurately before hearing it played by actual musicians? Write a lot and get a lot of experiences. Soon you’ll learn what works and what doesn’t. Study scores. And get tips from teachers and other musicians.

I would like to expand on the rehearsal process a little bit. You’re really privileged to work with some of the world's great orchestras, some of the top conductors. I saw you’re working with Jaap van Sweden this upcoming season. Can you talk about a little bit about that relationship between composer and conductor in your eyes - not just a general relationship but more focused on that interaction like in the rehearsal process? How does it benefit the musicians to have you there, in terms of answering questions but also just representing the idea behind this work of art that we’re creating?

It’s helpful if the composer can be present to help the musicians getting the style of the music. You can only be so specific with your notation. Sometimes musicians ask me how I want a particular phrase to be, and I answer by singing that phrase, and immediately they know what to do. Better yet, they may be able to tell me what I should have written for that phrase in terms of markings.

There are some musical works that are non-programmatic so to speak - the music is written and presented without an extra-musical association or idea. The opposite is true of “Transcend,” the work we are premiering at the Arapahoe Philharmonic in November. You seem to frequently connect with programmatic subjects such as historical events or human-made marvels. Can you talk about the programmatic or thematic subjects in Transcend?

Two years ago, I was delighted to have been invited to compose a new work commemorating the 150th anniversary of the Transcontinental Railroad’s completion in May 2019. When I learned that 13 American orchestras — many of which are located along the route of the Railroad — would join forces together to commission and premiere this new work across the country, I was truly honored, as I knew the significant cultural impact this project would entail.

Begun in 1862 and completed in 1869, the Transcontinental Railroad effectively linked the US from east to west for the first time. Its cultural heritage includes the contribution of a thousands-strong Chinese and Irish workforce who toiled in severe weather and cruel working conditions. Numerous “hell on wheels” towns proliferated along the construction route and became famous for rapid growth and infamous for lawlessness. As the settlements pushed westward, there was a mixing of ethnic groups and cultures. Unfortunately, as the daunting task of laying tracks over difficult terrain increased, many workers perished, and many of the rest were denied the American dream by the enactment of the Chinese Exclusion Act in 1882. But those who stayed brought traditional art and music into the fabric of American culture.

As a Chinese-born composer who immigrated to this country, educated at the nation’s top music schools, and now serving at one of its finest institutions, I was moved to create this work to tell a musical story, to celebrate human perseverance, and to pay tribute to my own cultural heritage.

“Transcend” is composed of 3 movements, in which the epic and intimate passages go hand-in-hand in evoking the darkness and lightness, as if going through tunnels on a fast train.

During my yearlong research and travel on this piece – and I have never done so much research for a single piece – I encountered many kind people who gave me inspirations.

Here are two examples:

After a masterclass in Salt Lake City, Utah, I received an email from a local teacher at Highland Park, who asked his 4th grade classes if they were going to write a piece about the Transcontinental Railroad what they would include.

I was so happy to see that some of the ideas completely lined up with how I thought about the piece! Here are two examples that the 4th graders wrote that made into the first movement, “Pulse”:

1) “’Flat’ melodies to symbolize the plains and deserts, “jagged” melodies to symbolize the Sierra Nevada and Rocky Mountain ranges” (I started the piece with calm and serene strings, before bursting into a constant pulse of 152 BPM).

2) “Huge surprising blasts inspired by dynamite and blasting through mountains and rocks.” (I created violent, percussive poundings that occur from time to time, which are like blasts of dynamite, evoking the tension and suspense of man versus nature.)

While in Omaha, a docent at a local museum, who was railroad worker for the Union Pacific for 30 years, told me the true story of the telegraph of a single word:

On May 10, 1869, when the Railroad was completed and the two trains met in Promontory Point, UT, a single word was sent across the United States via one of the first nationwide telegraphs to celebrate this monumental achievement. That single word was “done.” And it was sent through the Morse code.

This was so inspiring that, as soon as he said that, I knew this story would be incorporated into the piece in a significant way. I soon decided to base the entire last movement of the piece on the rhythm of the word “done” in Morse code. Throughout the finale, “done” transforms into an exciting rhythmic motif and is passed back and forth to numerous instruments in the orchestra. Thus the title of the last movement is, you guessed it, “D-O-N-E.”

In an interesting coincidence, we programmed Jennifer Higdon’s “Loco” on this same program without knowing that she is one of your great teachers and influencers. As one of the most unique American voices today, her music is very well received by audiences and incredibly fun to play. Can you talk about what she’s given you and your experiences working with her?

She was my first teacher when I arrived here at Curtis, first teacher in America really. It was a great experience. She is one of the kindest, most supportive people I have ever had the pleasure to encounter. Every lesson with her, it was never like she’s there to criticize; it’s more like showing your music to a friend. She’ll share with you a lot of her experience. For a composer, probably the most technically demanding thing is to be able to hear your music in your head before the first rehearsal. And for me that really comes from a lot of training at Curtis with her, a lot of experience writing orchestral music and getting feedback from your teacher.

How do you approach the massive scale of writing and presenting a piece for full orchestra? How can you know what it will sound like prior to the first rehearsal?

Be good at chamber music. Chamber music is the foundation of everything. Start small. Write for your own instrument first. You learn the characteristics of instruments and ensembles by writing for each of them. Then you move on to the orchestra. Go from works for solo, duo, trio, quartet, quintet, mixed ensemble, choir, string orchestra, chamber orchestra, to full orchestra. You build up to it. That was my experience.

With regard to writing for orchestra, some composers and maybe even some professors will say that you’re never going to get your music played. Write for chamber groups, write for small ensembles, write for soloists. You are an orchestral composer with your music played all over the world. Can you give any kind of advice for young composers who are trying to get more orchestral experiences?

It’s very tricky. I completely understand when students say “I want to write for orchestra but who’s gonna play it?” Everybody says becoming a composer is a long process. I would usually add another phrase after that: but you cannot waste any time. Because you need experience. You need to keep writing to get those skills. Most schools offer big ensemble reading opportunities, like band or orchestra. Write for those! And don’t forget to always write chamber music.

You have a lot of projects coming up obviously. If you can do one project where there were no limits to what it would be, what would be your dream project?

Wow! My dream project is always to write for great musicians. If I must narrow it down to what kind of pieces, I’d say a piano concerto, and a full-length ballet for a great orchestra and awesome choreographer and dancers.

I want to thank you sincerely, Zhou, for your time and I’m really looking forward to “Transcend!”

Thank you very much Devin!