5 Questions with Threshold

Threshold celebrates emerging and experimental voices in sound and music performance whose heritage arises from Asia or the Asian diaspora. This evening of performance showcases a labyrinth of mythologies, introspective films, spoken word practices, and the sonic amplifications of materials, such as rice and bamboo, that have been traditionally consumed or used in other contexts.

Co-curated by Victoria Pham this program will position audiences to listen deeply to the diversity of sound practices, language and music of Asian-Australian composers and performers. Featuring the work of: Gloria Demillo (poet and playwright), Flora Wong (violin),
James Nguyen (filmmaker and artist), Nicholas Ng (erhu),
and Chloe Chung (dizi/flute).

Venue: Woodburn Creatives 82 Cope St Waterloo
Saturday 4th March 2023, 7.30pm

No.1

Victoria, since you co-curated this event, this first question is for you: how did you begin to conceptualise this, and why did you choose to work with the artists you are now working with for this event?

The concept of Threshold first emerged in January 2022 during conversations with director of Backstage Music, Lamorna Nightingale. I was approached to co-curate this exploration into experimental and performing arts alongside her. Threshold itself was inspired by a poem of the same name by Vietnamese-American poet, Ocean Vuong, whose body of work I happened to be reading [at the time].

Although layered in lyrical gestures towards memory, sexuality and shrouded histories, Vuong’s words contemplated the idea of the body and voice as performance, and how shared recollections sit at the threshold between past self and the present. Such intimate storytelling unfolded into what is now Threshold, marked by five remarkable Asian-Australian artists, each from different practices, instruments and philosophies. I have admired the work of Chloe Chung, Flora Wong, Gloria Demilo, James Nguyen and Nicholas Ng for several years. In particular, I have been drawn to each of their modes of experimenting with traditional Asian instruments, such as the dizi and erhu, or materials and mediums, like rice, spoken word and film .

Expanding within Threshold are the intense multiplicity of stories and forms of expression that are too often reduced to the label of ‘contemporary Asian’. Instead, Threshold seeks to make space for ears to settle and listen to these voices, and perhaps even be invited to make music with them.

No.2

In the press release, it states that the event ‘showcases a labyrinth of mythologies, introspective films, spoken word practices, and the sonic amplifications of materials such as rice and bamboo that have been traditionally consumed or used in other contexts.’ Can you speak more to this?

Chloe Chung (CC): I am particularly excited to witness the full breadth of our collective interdisciplinary practices unfurling through the night. With one of my instruments being a bamboo flute (dizi), I’ll certainly be amplifying some materials with my breath … and without giving too much away about my part in the labyrinth, I’ll be sharing through spoken word and flute performance on the night.

Flora Wong (FW): My work ‘Rice Wash’ involves using wooden chopsticks and grains of rice to activate my violin, with the instrument’s natural resonance enhanced through electronic effects. It juxtaposes a musical instrument that is integral to the Western classical music tradition with non-musical objects that are strongly associated with Asian culture. I was curious about what rice sounds like being heard ‘through’ a violin, in the same way that I’m curious about what the voices of Asian Australian musicians sound like ‘through’ the repertoire and contexts in which they play.

James Nguyen (JN): I love the idea of the labyrinth. It makes me think about encountering frustrations and loss as well as escape and release. Introspective film is itself a visual labyrinth, with space for riddles, confusion and moments of unexpected clarity. I love editing and listening back to conversations with friends as I edit their short interviews. It forces me to reflect on what was being said, and the unsaid subtext [beneath] person-to-person exchanges. To me these short snippets are incomplete puzzles that simultaneously obscures and gives an insight into these conversations and encounters.

Nick Ng (NN): In my segment, I engage with two contrasting polarities and states of mind: of being pushed into a challenging situation and therefore constantly on ‘edge’, versus the calm journey of self-discovery through the physicality of walking along a guided path. I am so fortunate to work with the amazing videography of Victoria Pham, inspired by labyrinth forms such as the Baroque garden maze of the Qianlong Emperor’s Forbidden City in Beijing. This video helps us explore how we move through regulated space in a sonic way, travelling with non-tangible fluidity through the labyrinth of the mind. With the help of contemporary dancer Jia-Wei Zhu, we ask if the human mind, and the human body itself may be imprinted with the memory of the complex passageways that mark what would otherwise be a giant, empty void.

No.3

Apart from the fact that everyone performing at this event is from the Asian diaspora, what other themes will audiences expect to see at Threshold?

FW: ‘Rice Wash’ is partly inspired by the ‘transnational-coming-of-age’ experience as described by Shzr Ee Tan (2021)—‘I cross my fingers that our sharing of mutual vulnerabilities, fears, hopes, care and boundaries (or horizons) of engagement will allow for mutual discoveries of varieties of the self, and of the imagined other(s).’ Given that almost all individuals and communities in so-called Australia have experienced displacement of some kind, I think it’s an idea that can speak to audiences from all cultural backgrounds.

CC: I’ll be exploring ideas of moving between unstructured and structured time, [which is] something which I’ve been thinking about a lot recently. From the inlets of freedom inside pockets of structure, the pressure of feeling there ‘isn’t enough time’ contrasted with cycles and daily rhythms that keep me grounded and regulated, I’m looking forward to playing for and with audiences with this theme in mind.

JN: Although Asianness regularly informs the expressive concerns of many Asian artists making art, it is probably the least interesting part of our expressive concerns. Thinking about forms of displacement and non-belonging which Flora mentions, the dissonance of being a minority and recent coloniser on Aboriginal land has a certain specificity and universality that many Asian diaspora are beginning to grasp. We are not the only ones who are simultaneously lonely, conflicted, complicit and ignorant. Art, music, conversation, and performance gives us the capacity to produce meaning in order to demand more from our audiences, our communities, and ourselves.

NN: To build on James’s idea of Asianness, my contribution contains a search for a kind of universality through the marginalised experience. Contrary to asserting a kind of Chinese identity by playing instruments from China (erhu, hulusi), I’m inspired by recent decolonial discourse to explore the notion of detaching myself from such cultural associations and using these instruments purely for their emotive and sonic qualities. Why should the erhu forever be associated with Chinese culture? I find this so empowering and feel that thinking in such a way might help liberate me from subscribing to notions of marginalisation (or even of being ‘Asian’) and to focus on an artistic practice without cultural boundaries.

No.4

Can everyone speak about their respective practices? What were the conditions that caused you to pursue the medium (e.g. dizi, spoken word, erhu, violin, etc) you predominantly use now?

FW: I started playing the violin because I was offered the opportunity at school; in so-called Queensland, many students in state schools have access to instrumental music programs. As a musical instrument, I love that it has the versatility to slot in a wide range of styles and genres, and also that it’s primarily an instrument that works in ensembles—as an artist, I’ve always preferred collaborating with others over creating and performing alone. Even though my practice has mostly evolved away from Western classical music and towards more intercultural, cross-disciplinary and experimental approaches, the violin remains an instrument that is core to my practice: it has shaped the way I hear, understand and process music, and I have a deeply embodied relationship with it as a musical tool.

JN: I was once a violinist, but once I decided to go to art school, I thought that I had to put music aside to really commit to doing art. Little did I realise that the violin, music, and sound and everything else that I thought I needed to leave behind are part of the creative arsenal of skills, techniques, and alternative approaches that has actually enriched my practice as a contemporary artist. I may no longer play the violin, but I still try to retain the responsive listening that is ingrained into every child who has ever played in a local community youth orchestra.

NN: Here is an excerpt from my book, Encounters (2013): ‘When I turned 15, I experienced a terrifying moment of darkness while preparing to sit for the AMEB (Australian Music Education Board) diploma in piano performance. So traumatic was the ordeal that I can no longer recall the compositions I was practising again and again to Virgo-driven perfection. I was the typical Asian piano-basher—starting at age four and rising at incredible speed to complete my piano grades, to play the Australian National Anthem at every school assembly, and to compete in piano competitions and eisteddfods...’ It was this breakdown that led me to finding a new reason for continuing music through the erhu and Chinese instruments, which I originally chose in an attempt to connect with my cultural heritage.

CC: My artistic practice is continually shaped by the things around me. With a peculiar soft spot for flutes of any kind, I’ve always been drawn to it as a natural extension of my breath and how playing and hearing it soothes and regulates me! Like others’ similar experiences expressed here, I grew up immersed in classical music training in Sydney, a journey which has never really stopped but only deepened and widened over time. In high school, I heard dizi performed at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music by Chai Chang Ning—the immediacy of the tone colour and sound pierced me in a way which made me want to learn and hear more … so I did! One thing led to another: from learning and cultural exchange with incredible dizi masters in and outside of China, to the exploration of more flutes and collaboration with musical cultures from within and beyond my own cultural heritage; all of which continue to inform and inspire my daily practice in so many tangible and intangible ways.

No.5

What other upcoming projects do you have in store, whether as a group or separately?

FW: I’m in the process of developing a new work that plays within the meeting place between musicking and ceramicking with Taiwanese-Australian ceramic artist Ruby Yu-Lu Yeh called VESSEL, which will be premiered at ΩHM at the Brisbane Powerhouse at the end of the month, and we hope to record it later in the year. I’m also really looking forward to spending some time as an artist-in-residence in Charleville and Cunnamulla [QLD] for my PhD. It’s a case study that forms part of the Creative Change Project, which looks at the role of community music in addressing entrenched social inequities in so-called Australia.

CC: I’m deepening collaborations with several musicians I’ve been working with for a while now: [this includes] completing a flute and piano album with pianist-composer Pavle Cajic, [which has been] several years in the making; working with Torres Strait Islander songman Murray-Wa Dow creating new arrangements of traditional songs; and playing regularly with friends in Dreambox Collective.

JN: I’m working on a solo commission for the Australian Centre for Contemporary Art (ACCA) in Naarm/Melbourne for mid-September. It looks at forms of institutional and community translation to bring the artworld into forms of queer, migrant, and First Nations language brokering. This is a collaboration with Budi Sadarto, Kate Ten Buurren, and Tamsen Hopkison. I am also presenting work with Victoria at Fairfield Art Gallery, some works at the MCA, Blacktown Arts Centre, and other projects.

NN: As a composer, I’m soon to rework the music for the play Miss Peony (dir. Michelle Law) at Belvoir Street Theatre, premiering and touring soon! (The production got postponed due to COVID-19 lockdown.) I’m also planning a soundscape project using the Chinese instrument collection at Powerhouse Museum, while developing a Sydney Observatory performance inspired by the night sky. And, at the Institute for Australian and Chinese Arts and Culture, I am trying to complete Chinese Music in Australia, a book and podcast series.