Chapter 394

The Dunhuang Ancient Musical Scores are by no means obscure documents.

Quite the contrary; anyone who studies archaeology, cultural relics, ancient music, or classical dance knows of them. First, they are famous enough in their own right: transcribed during the Later Tang of the Five Dynasties, their origins are unknown, and they have long been kept in the Library Cave of the Dunhuang Mogao Grottoes. According to the research of later scholars, it is highly likely they originated from the Tang Dynasty Yan Yue Da Qu.

At the end of the Qing Dynasty, they were stolen from the Library Cave of the Dunhuang Mogao Grottoes by the French Sinologist and explorer Paul Pelliot, and are now housed in the National Library of France. All Western scholars who study Chinese studies consider the Dunhuang Musical Scores to be one of the most important documents for researching Tang Dynasty music, ritual systems, and religion. Furthermore, the people who study them are too famous: from the earliest Japanese scholar Lin Qian San to contemporary scholars like Ye Dong and Chen Yingshi, every one of them is an authoritative scholar in the history of Chinese music and ancient musical temperaments.

Especially Chen Yingshi, who is the Editor-in-Chief of the History of Chinese Music, which is one of the reference books for arts universities.

It contains a dedicated chapter teaching Ancient Score Research related to the Dunhuang Musical Scores; for Experts like Wan Fengyun and Ren Zhuo, who study both ancient music and ancient musical temperaments, this is a required course.

Precisely because they understand, they are all the more baffled: why would Lin Sicheng choose to use the Urgent Tune from the Dunhuang Musical Scores to accompany the Liuyao Dance?

The two are not just unrelated; they are like fire and water.

Amidst their suspicion, the sound of the zither grew denser.

At first, there was still some awkwardness, and it would stutter from time to time. But gradually, the zither music became more coherent, like pearls falling onto a jade plate.

Xiao Yuzhu and Fang Jin were dumbfounded: they actually didn't know that Lin Sicheng could do this?

Relatively speaking, Li Zhen was much more composed. Of course, she also didn't know Lin Sicheng could do this, but it was simply out of her admiration for Lin Sicheng. If one day, Lin Sicheng told her: "I can build a rocket, I can build an Atomic Bomb," she would still believe him...

When the piece finished, many people had gathered around. But out of concern that they might disturb him, they didn't get too close, instead finding a nearby place to sit down.

Seeing Lin Sicheng sitting motionless after finishing the zither, his head tilted back in a daze, Wan Fengyun looked curious: "He isn't really planning to use the Urgent Tune to accompany the Liuyao Dance, is he?"

The group shook their heads in unison: impossible.

Because the tempo is too fast.

If you ask how fast: the famous pipa piece Ambush from Ten Sides, the rhythm is fast enough, right? The fastest section is the Battle of Jiuli Mountain, which is played the most urgently—the part where the zither player wishes they could play the strings until sparks fly—and that is only three beats per second.

Come, try it; take this section, choreograph a dance, and have a performer dance to it?

That isn't dancing; that's jumping rope.

Jumping rope only requires moving your hands and feet, but dancing involves the whole body; not to mention the diverse postures, it also possesses considerable difficulty and technicality, and it lasts at least five or six minutes at the shortest.

Never mind the performers; come, let a Level One athlete try it?

But no one spoke.

Because Lin Sicheng is not an outsider; you can say he isn't proficient, but you cannot say he doesn't know the trade.

While they were suspicious, Lin Sicheng picked up a pencil and began writing on a blank sheet of staff paper.

Focusing their eyes to look, it seemed he was copying the score: whichever scale was on the original score to the left, that same scale was on the right; basically, not a single character was changed. After finishing the copy, Lin Sicheng began to add annotations at the beginning of the segments. Looking at notations like "J=75" and "J=122," the few people suddenly realized: Lin Sicheng was going to adapt it.

He was preparing to take the Urgent Tune, which is as urgent as war drums with an average tempo of "J=184," and change it into a rhythm that alternates between fast and slow, with tension and relaxation, suitable for choreography. While they were secretly thinking this, Liu Hao instinctively shook his head: this was likewise impossible.

To put it simply: if you want to make a piece at J=184 reach a tempo of J=75, you have to slow it down by at least two and a half times.

Imagine that effect?

This is no longer a question of how outrageous the pauses between notes are, but rather that the change in rhythm would deform the form and content of the music to a terrifying degree.

The key also lies in this: a change in rhythm cannot change the core essence of a piece of music. For example: no matter how many times you speed up a funeral dirge, it still expresses tragic and sorrowful emotions.

The same logic applies: the "urgency" of the Urgent Tune does not just refer to the rhythm, but also the core essence of the piece: strong, vigorous, hard, and rigid. And what is the Liuyao? It is a soft-waisted dance that is graceful and gentle, with a relaxed rhythm, light and Floating dance movements, and a sexy and supple posture.

This is not a question of whether it is suitable for adaptation, but that the core essences are completely opposite.

Sure enough, after finishing the annotations, Lin Sicheng tried playing it. That effect could be described in four words: too horrible to look at.

It was as if a child who knew nothing about music was plucking the zither at random.

Afterwards, Lin Sicheng tried modifying it again, still only changing the rhythm; in some places speeding up, in others slowing down.

The Bian Dao Shi was very quiet; apart from the occasional sound of the zither, there was only the rustling of the pencil on the score paper.

Whether it was the directors or the Experts, everyone was quiet. They just wanted to see how far Lin Sicheng could eventually modify it.

Lin Sicheng did not know this; he was focused and tireless, modifying it over and over, trying it over and over.

After modifying it for nearly a dozen versions, he finally changed to a new sheet of music.

The few people were stunned for a moment: was it finished?

Of course not.

They were all insiders; they could see with their eyes and, even more so, listen with their ears: the rhythm had been modified beyond recognition, but the essence was still that essence, the core was still that core: rigid, vigorous, hard, and strong.

It definitely wouldn't work for accompanying a soft-waisted dance; adding some lyrics and using it as a war song would be quite appropriate.

While secretly mocking him, Liu Hao glanced at the new score Lin Sicheng had switched to: Slow Tune?

It was also a Dunhuang Ancient Musical Score, and it had also been translated by Lin Qian San, Ye Dong, and Chen Yingshi.

The version on the music stand was still Chen Yingshi's version.

The crowd looked at each other: no... is Lin Sicheng going from one extreme to the other?

The tempo of the Urgent Tune is J=184, while the tempo of the Slow Tune is J=36; the two differ by nearly six times.

The former is three beats per second, while the latter is one beat every two seconds.

If you ask whether it can be used to accompany a dance, of course it can. All the Dunhuang Musical Scores were written on the backs of the corresponding scriptures; I wouldn't dare say 100%, but 70% or 80% were Buddhist dance accompaniments from the Tang Dynasty.

But it depends on what kind of dance it is accompanying.

Among the Dunhuang Musical Scores, any score with "Slow" in the title is invariably used for Buddhist music and dance of the Nirvana type.

Imagine monks and Daoist priests chanting slow scriptures: one syllable dragged out for three seconds.

If you still don't understand: you've all seen yoga, right? The kind where even a simple arm lift takes five or six seconds.

The so-called Nirvana-type music and dance is of this kind; how fast could the accompanying music rhythm possibly be?

The key is that not only does the rhythm not match, but the core philosophy also does not match.

The Slow Tune is quiet and solemn, while the Liuyao is sexy and supple; they are likewise as incompatible as fire and water.

But just like before, Lin Sicheng began to modify it again, still only changing the rhythm.

Before, it was slowing down; this time, it became speeding up.

For a time, "ding-ding-dong-dong," the pipa rang out incessantly.

The few Experts felt their heads ache: no matter how he modifies this, it shouldn't be of any use, right?

It definitely won't work.

The main melody hasn't changed at all; no matter how Lin Sicheng speeds it up, this tune has nothing to do with being elegant, graceful, sexy, or charming. After this revision, another ten-plus takes passed, and Lin Sicheng changed to a new score again.

Liu Hao stretched his neck to take a peek: Huh, don't recognize this one?

It's not a staff notation, but an ancient score, similar to the previous photocopies of dance scores: few Chinese characters, many half-characters, looking like ghost-drawn Talismans.

Every trade has its master; not understanding is nothing to be ashamed of. Liu Hao asked what he didn't understand: "Editor Ren, what is this?"

Ren Zhuo looked at it for a long while: "It seems to still be the 'Dunhuang Ancient Score'?"

Wan Fengyun nodded along: "It is indeed the 'Dunhuang Ancient Score'."

"What is he doing with this?"

"Probably trying to draw some inspiration from it!"

As they spoke, the two stood up and leaned in closer. Ren Zhuo squinted his eyes: "Mogao Caves scripture scrolls, P. 3539, P. 3719... Huh, it's the 'Record of the Buddha's Original Acts; Upali Chapter', 'Huan Xi Sha'..."

Wan Fengyun was stunned for a moment: Is this that untranslated fragment from the 'Dunhuang Ancient Score'?

And the two most fragmented pieces at that?

The former is still okay, having about twenty notation characters (symbols) and some Annotation of fingering. But the latter only has ten notation characters and the three-character song title 'Huan Xi Sha'.

But regardless of which piece it is, they are fragmented beyond measure, so while countless scholars have researched them, not a single one has translated the scores.

So what does Lin Sicheng want to do? Is he preparing to translate these two pieces?

Even more impossible.

It's no exaggeration: he doesn't need to translate the whole thing; if he could just translate half of it, he wouldn't need to translate any 'Liu Yao' or work on any 'Ancient Score Notation'—the Ministry of Culture would dare to award him a ministerial-level gold medal directly.

Then what is he trying to do?

In his suspicion, Lin Sicheng picked up a pen and began writing on a blank score.

Wan Fengyun and Ren Zhuo exchanged a glance: Really translating?

Subconsciously, the two leaned in closer again. Immediately, they exchanged another glance; both pairs of eyes were filled with confusion.

Shao: Rapid Masking, Rapid Pressing then releasing, like an arrow piercing the air.

Ming: Linked Plucking, double-string continuous plucking (four tones), like pearls falling onto a jade plate.

Qian: Snake Movement, single-hand pitch shifting (three-fret displacement), like Wind brushing through bamboo gaps.

、: Mi, ten strings per second, sudden like Rain Beating on Banana Leaves.

Yu: Staccato, sudden lingering vibrato, like metal and stone bursting apart.

At the very beginning are the notation characters, which are those symbols that are rare and pitiful in ancient scores. In the middle is the corresponding interpretation of the notation characters, but this wasn't translated by Lin Sicheng; it is Chen Yingshi's Annotation of the score translation.

As for the parts after that, they refer to fingering and sound effect analogies, but neither of them had ever seen them before.

Whether it be Lin Qian San, Ye Dong, or even in the works of Chen Yingshi, there had never been such descriptions.

Therefore, these should be Lin Sicheng's own interpretations.

Looking at it this way, Lin Sicheng is indeed translating the score, but not entirely translating the score.

It feels like he is only translating the techniques and rhythms within the zither score?

Looking further down, the two's feeling became even stronger:

Opening Posture: Xie, Yu → Snake Movement Probing the Formation + Staccato Power Accumulation.

Conflict Section: Shao, Dun, Shao → Rapid Masking Triple Strike.

Climax Section: ←, ←, 、 → Sixteen Linked Pearls.

Transition: C, Kou → Trembling Branch Falling Flower... Closing: T, Xie → Converging Breath Closing Posture...

Opening, Conflict, Climax, Transition, Closing... That's right, it is fingering and rhythm.

I don't know if it's correct, but it looks quite plausible. But the problem is, without knowing the specific pitch and scale, and which note is being played, what is the use of studying the fingering and rhythm so thoroughly?

With a flourish, he had written almost a full page. Lin Sicheng examined it, took it down to set aside, and began changing scores again.

This time, it became a staff notation again: it was also Chen Yingshi's translation of the 'Dunhuang Scroll Score', 'Slow Tune West River Moon'.

Then, the pipa began to ring out with a ding-dong sound again.

After playing for a while, Lin Sicheng began filling in the score. This time, what he filled in was not the musical scale, but the fingering and rhythm.

After about ten minutes, having roughly finished filling it in, Lin Sicheng began checking literature and data.

There was a lot, and it was very miscellaneous: there were Tang Dynasty music history monographs like 'Miscellaneous Records of the Music Bureau', 'Seven Music Divisions of the Great Tang' (Japan Yue volume), and also Joseon's 'Standard of Musicology'.

Besides that, there were miscellaneous histories like 'Past Events of Wu Lin' (Southern Song), music critiques like 'Bi Ji Man Zhi' (Southern Song), and even variety plays like 'Rain on the Paulownia' (Yuan), as well as several other types of music score literature.

The data was varied and Five Flowers and Eight Gates; Lin Sicheng searched and excerpted by turns, including score structure, textual records, rhythm analysis, and even excerpts of musical sections.

Ren Zhuo and Wan Fengyun looked at each other in dismay: Is Lin Sicheng trying to translate the score, or is he trying to adapt it?

The two most knowledgeable ones couldn't understand it, let alone the others?

It just felt like Lin Sicheng was hitting here and there, without a goal or a plan...