Working on my research project in Taiwan as a Fulbright Senior Scholar has been an amazing experience. I want to thank several people who made my time here so positive. I am grateful to the Fulbright Taiwan team—director Dr. Randall Nadeau, associate program director Charlie Cheng, and officer Jennier Wu—for their support. I also appreciate the faculty, students, and the chair, Dr. Tsai Ling-Hui, in the Department of Traditional Music at Taipei National University of the Arts (TNUA) for their warm welcome. Before this Fulbright research, I had never met anyone from TNUA or visited the campus. I chose TNUA because its strong traditional music program matched my research interests, and I am thankful to be part of this community. Two faculty members, Professor Pan Ju-Tuan and Professor Sarah Barnes Tsai, have especially inspired me during my stay.
I attended Professor Pan’s undergraduate and graduate classes on traditional music and theory throughout the year. The topics covered everything from Gongzhi Pu (ancient Chinese music notation for Beiguan, Nanguan, and Kungu genres) to the structure and history of Nanguan and Beiguan. Her teaching helped me better understand Asian cultures and traditional Chinese music. I also joined two field trips with her undergraduate students. In the fall, we visited Gong Lexuan, the oldest Beiguan Ensemble, where the director gave us a tour and explained the Beiguan ritual guard of honor in detail. In the spring, we watched the Nanguan Spring Rite ceremony produced by the He-Ming Nanguan Ensemble (see photo). It was my first time seeing a live Nanguan performance and the full traditional ceremony. I was moved by the spiritual atmosphere and how everyone worked together to make the event meaningful. Both ensembles are in Taipei’s Dadaocheng, a historic area in the Datong district with many old-style shops. Thanks to the TNUA students’ recommendations, I visited some of these shops. These field trips and tours showed me how well traditions are preserved in Taiwan and how traditional music is passed down through seasonal rites.
I am especially thankful to Professor Sarah Barnes Tsai. She is an American who has taught percussion at TNUA since 1989. I left Taiwan in 1995, and although we had never met before my Fulbright research, we quickly became friends after being introduced. We realized that we have similar backgrounds: both of us have spent more years abroad than in our home countries, and, in a way, we have each settled in the other’s birthplace. Sarah has been a great mentor, helping me adjust to the challenges of conducting research in Taiwan and introducing me to musicians for my research interviews. She also invited me to give feedback on her graduate student Pablo David Taco’s thesis. With her support, I conducted over 32 interviews with musicians in Taiwan and learned about their approaches to contemporary music. I also attended around 60 events and concerts, including GuoYue (National style of Music), Taiwanese operas, ritual ceremonies, puppet shows, Kungu, Jingju, and more.
Some of the highlights of my music activities in Taiwan include attending the opening of the 10th-anniversary Memorial Exhibition for Ma Shu-Long, a pioneering Taiwanese composer, at the National Central Library. Ma Shu-Long founded and served as the second president of Taipei National University of the Arts and played a key role in developing music programs in Taiwan. At the exhibition, I saw his handwritten scores, learned about his inspirations, and witnessed how his legacy continues. I also attended most of the memorial concerts held in his honor, which helped me understand the growth of modern music in Taiwan. I watched two versions of Kunqu: The Peony Pavilion. One was produced by the Taiwan Kunju, featuring young Taiwanese actors and a reinterpretation of ancient musical notation. I was impressed by the younger generation’s dedication to bringing ancient theater to life. Before this Fulbright experience, I thought Taiwan was mostly Westernized, but I now see that Chinese traditions are deeply rooted in society. The other Peony Pavilion performance was produced by Pai Hsien-Yung, a well-known Taiwanese writer and Kunqu producer, with actors mainly from mainland China. The performance was also impressive, and I noticed the audience included many young adults. Pai Hsien-Yung came on stage to thank the team and the audience, and as someone who has read his books since school, I found hearing his talk in person a special moment. I also attended productions by the Taiwan GuoGuang Opera Company, including Jingju Wu Jiapo, Kunge: Li Houzhu, and The Legend of the White Snake. Some of these shows incorporated Western instruments such as the keyboard, strings, and percussion into Chinese music ensembles. I spoke with a musician from the company, who explained that they aim to blend Kunqu and Jingju with Western sounds to renew tradition while keeping its core. While it’s hard to predict if this mixture will become a new genre, the outcome they presented was thoughtful and deserved the audience’s attention.
Aside from the aforementioned musical activities, I have also visited temples in Taiwan. One of the precise experiences is my visit to the historic Guandi temple, built around 1662 during Zheng Chenggong’s reign and recognized as the first Guandi temple in Taiwan. Today, it is a city-designated historic site that draws people of all ages seeking spiritual support. My visit took place during the Qingming Festival, or Tomb-Sweeping Day, in early April. As rain is common at this time of year, locals explained that such weather has come to symbolize a longing for those who came before us—perhaps why the Qingming Festival is held in April. This feeling is reflected in the opening lines of Du Mu’s Tang dynasty poem “Qingming Festival”: “The rain falls during the Qingming festival, All pedestrians moved in a gloomy and heartbroken way…(清明時節雨紛紛， 路上行人欲斷魂).” Visiting as a Fulbright senior scholar researching traditional sounds, I was moved by how these traditions persist—not only in ritual music but, more profoundly, in the daily reverence the community shows them.
In addition, during my Fulbright research, I presented my work at several peer-reviewed conferences and lectures. These include the American Musicological Society Joint Society for Music Theory National Conference, a special forum at the Department of Traditional Music at the Taipei National University of the Arts, and the Association of Asian Studies National Conference. I was also invited to present at the Symposium on Popular Music in the Streaming Era in London. Alongside these presentations, I submitted two invited articles. One is a book review for the Journal of the Society for American Music on Dr. Nancy Rao’s book Inside Chinese Theater: Community and Artistry in Nineteenth-Century California and Beyond, published by the University of Illinois Press (2025). The final document was approved in April and will be published by Cambridge University Press later this year. (doi:10.1017/S1752196326101394) The second is a book chapter titled “C-pop in General Studies: Embracing Chinese Musical Heritage Beyond Borders.” I am thankful for these opportunities to present, write, and explore musical creativity in Taiwan. Still, my main goal here has been to prepare and write my book, tentatively titled Modern Chinese Folk Music: Identities, Memories, and Intimacy.
This book examines how contemporary Chinese composers incorporate folk or traditional musical elements into their music. My research shows that composers select folk tunes for their strong cultural resonance and the memories and identities they evoke. I have found that certain traditional styles integrate particularly well with modern genres such as symphonic, chamber, and choral, creating a sense of intimacy through sonic references to collective memory. Prior to this project, I have long been influenced by Liu Jizei’s studies, including his book A Critical History of New Music in China (2009), which highlights European tonal harmony and counterpoint in contemporary Chinese compositions. My perspective shifted during my Fulbright research in Taiwan. I now see that post-tonal techniques for preserving folk culture—used by composers like Bela Bartok and Alexander Tcherepnin—have also influenced Chinese musicians since the early 20th century, inspiring figures like Jiang Wen-Ye. Chinese cultural tradition persists as a foundation for creativity, even in works shaped by Western influences. This discovery resolves the challenge that has long remained in this book project: how to address Western musical influences in contemporary Chinese music without reinforcing colonial narratives or the legacies of Western missionaries. Colonial histories imposed Western music and hierarchical structures on colonized societies, an impact still evident in world music today. My research suggests that, despite these influences, Chinese musical elements absorb exoticism while persistently maintaining their identities, reflecting the enduring impact of cultural memory. With these concepts in mind, I investigate certain foundational concepts. In what follows, I will share one of them, which I call “pentatonic myths.”
Pentatonic myths
Most Chinese melodies are based on pentatonism. However, the pentatonic mode can also develop into a Chinese-style diatonic mode or even shift toward 12-tone equal temperament.
The Chinese have developed a unique written music theory passed down for generations. For example, ancient texts illustrate that Chinese music is based on the pentatonic notes: Gong, Shang, Jue, Zhi, and Yu. Any of these notes can be the tonic, creating five different pentatonic modes. Furthermore, the pentatonic mode can also extend into a diatonic mode by adding transformation tones (Bin Zhi 4 and Bin Gong 7). In this way, each note can serve as the tonic to form a Chinese-style diatonic mode. Both pentatonic and diatonic modes can be transposed using the 12-equal temperament system, which was discovered by Ming-dynasty theorist Zhu Zaiyu (1536–1611), more than a century before Western equal temperament appeared in the work of J.S. Bach (1685–1750).
I have also discovered that Chinese music possesses a distinctive character, continually evolving as it embraces influences from other cultures. Blending traditional elements with outside styles is a global phenomenon, especially since the era of colonialism. For instance, Bollywood music in India fuses local traditions with Western styles, shaped by its colonial past. Similarly, China’s semi-colonial period and the late Qing era’s Westernization Movement sparked a wave of Western influence. Slogans like “Learning from foreigners for defense” and “Chinese learning for substance, Western learning for application” captured the reformist spirit of the late 19th century. During this time, Western music, including symphonies that entered China in the 1860s, was not a passive import but a conscious choice. Over the past century, Chinese musicians have charted diverse paths in adapting Western ideas, revealing that modern Chinese music is a dynamic, self-driven blend of foreign and native traditions, rather than a mere byproduct of colonial history. The art of weaving outside music into Chinese sounds is a time-honored tradition. Chinese music has always thrived on adaptation and creative fusion.
Foreign instruments and styles—such as the Middle Eastern lute, which evolved into the pipa during the ancient Qin dynasty, and dance music from the Western Regions—have been woven into Chinese culture and reinvented across dynasties. Qupai, a collection of melodic modes popular in the Tang and Song dynasties, found new life in Mongolian theater, becoming YuanQu after the Mongols conquered the Song. In the Ming dynasty, Kunqu overtook Yuanqu in popularity and adopted the Qupai structure. Some Qupai filtered into folk songs and helped shape Jingju, which flourished during the Qing dynasty. Tracing the journey of Qupai and other forms reveals that Chinese music is a living tapestry, shaped by both external influences and internal innovation. This ongoing renewal shows how Chinese traditions absorb and transform new ideas. The ebb and flow of musical genres form a historical cycle: over 5000 years, each genre reflects its era while connecting with others, illustrating how musical evolution builds upon the past. This spirit of openness is mirrored in Chinese literature, painting, and regional cultures, underscoring a lasting commitment to blending and creativity. Even during its semi-colonial periods, when the world overlooked the creativity of Chinese music, Chinese traditions and openness endured. Today’s Chinese music, enriched with Western elements, is simply the latest chapter in a long story of renewal and adaptation. The vibrant presence of ancient cultural themes in modern works keeps the memory of cultural sounds alive and testifies to the enduring vitality of Chinese musical identity.
