Chinese piano maestro Liu Shikun Photo: PROVIDED TO CSST

Born in 1939, I began playing piano at the age of three. At that time, piano instruction in China was mainly available in major cities like Beijing, Shanghai, Tianjin, Harbin, Qingdao, and Xiamen. Although Yenching University (predecessor of Peking University) had a music department, very few in society pursued formal music education. My father, a vocal music graduate from the National Music School (predecessor of the Shanghai Conservatory of Music), was passionate about music and aimed to cultivate me into an exceptional musician. Our family had the conditions that were essential for learning piano at that time, which required a musically knowledgeable family and significant wealth, as piano lessons and instruments were prohibitively expensive. 

My earliest piano lessons took place on my father’s lap, taking turns playing phrases. Later, my father hired Liu Jinding, a graduate of Peking University’s music department, as my first teacher. Both she and my father supported my practice extensively, shaping my musical abilities. I had many other teachers subsequently.

On international stage

I am the second Chinese pianist to win an international competition, following Fou Ts’ong who won third place at the 5th Chopin International Piano Competition in Warsaw, Poland, in 1955, two years before me. In 1956, I was sent by the state to participate in the Liszt International Piano Competition in Budapest, Hungary. 

At that time, participation in international competitions from China was organized by the Ministry of Culture, unlike today where individuals or schools may participate independently. The international community had little knowledge of China, especially its music scene. It was a surprise for many to see a young Chinese pianist at the competition, as I was only 17 years old at the time. Liszt’s compositions are technically challenging, and before my performance, no one expected a Chinese participant to win. 

The competition consisted of four rounds, with eliminations each round until only eight competitors remained in the final round. After my performance in the first round, all the judges stood and applauded, prompting the audience to do the same. My performances in the second and third rounds received the warmest reactions, leading everyone to expect me to win first place. 

However, due to the political situation at the time, participants from other countries could only place third at best. First place was reserved for a Soviet participant, while second place was held for a Hungarian. My third-place win caused an uproar, and under media pressure, the authorities made an exception by awarding me a strand of Franz Liszt’s hair from a Hungarian museum as a special honor, a prize not given to the first or second-place winners.

International piano competitions were rare back then, but after China’s reform and opening-up, interest in the piano surged, and music academies expanded rapidly. Winning international competitions has since become common. Today, the exact number of piano competitions globally is unclear, with Italy alone reported to host over a hundred. Prominent piano competitions include Russia’s Tchaikovsky Piano Competition, the Van Cliburn International Piano Competition in the USA, Poland’s Chopin International Piano Competition, and the Leeds International Piano Competition in the UK. Some previously prominent competitions, like the Queen Elisabeth Competition in Belgium and the Long-Thibaud-Crespin Competition, have become less significant in recent years.

The 1958 Tchaikovsky International Piano Competition marked my second international award. Held every four years, it is one of the world’s most prestigious, challenging, and significant competitions. Prior to 1958, the Soviet Union had not hosted any music competitions. Following the Soviet launch of the first artificial satellite in 1957, which significantly advanced their position in space exploration over the USA, Nikita Khrushchev sought to open channels of communication between the two powers. 

To this end, he proposed the Tchaikovsky International Piano Competition as a means to transform both the arms race and Cold War tensions into a peaceful, cultural competition, imbuing the event with significant political and diplomatic implications.

Over 30 pianists who had previously won other international competitions participated, making it a contest of champions. Van Cliburn won first place, and I secured the second place. 

Before Cliburn’s passing in 2013, I visited him twice in the USA, and I was the last guest he received before his death. His words to me were intriguing; he lamented the decline of classical music in America and asked if I could urge the American president to pay more attention to the classical music market and its development. I laughed and responded that as a celebrated national hero in America, he should be the one to make such a suggestion, and questioning how I, a Chinese citizen, could possibly meet with the American president. Later, I served as a judge at the Van Cliburn Piano Competition, and in June last year, I was also a judge at the 34th Tchaikovsky Competition, which I regard as featuring the highest level of competitors globally.

Local music is also world music

Last June, as I was serving as a judge for the 34th Tchaikovsky Competition, the Russian organizers requested that I perform at the opening ceremony. Since all other awardees from the first competition had passed away, I thought it particularly important, especially in Russia, a country rich in classical music heritage, to play a piece from China, as I am Chinese. 

I chose “My Motherland” for the opening ceremony because of its patriotic sentiment and its deep emotional connection, representing my love for my country. This piece, featured in the film “Battle on Shangganling Mountain,” is sung by a nurse in a bunker to the soldiers, celebrating the magnificent landscapes of the homeland, the people’s deep affection for their homeland, and the heroic spirit of self-sacrifice for one’s country. After I performed this semi-improvisational piece at the opening ceremony, it resonated strongly in both Russia and China, touching many who heard a Chinese pianist play “My Motherland” in Moscow.

In 1959, after returning from my competition, China was actively advocating for the nationalization of the arts. As a response, I led the experimental fusion of piano with traditional Chinese instruments, initiating the creation of the “Youth Piano Concerto.” In this concerto, the piano, a Western instrument, served as the soloist, accompanied by an ensemble of diverse Chinese folk instruments including the erhu, gaohu, zhonghu, banhu, suona, bamboo flute, pipa, and yangqin. 

Drawing inspiration from the structure and form of Western symphony orchestras, I arranged these Chinese instruments into an ensemble resembling a national symphony orchestra. For example, the gaohu and erhu replaced violins, the zhonghu substituted for the viola, large-headed string instruments and bass replaced cellos and double basses, bamboo flutes took the place of Western flutes, and traditional Chinese winds like the suona and sheng replaced the brass section, with Chinese drums substituting for percussion. The experiment was very successful, and the performance caliber was on par with that of Western symphony orchestras.  

Wang Changyuan composed a guzheng piece titled “Fighting the Typhoon,” which portrays dock workers battling a typhoon to protect national property and eventually overcoming it. In 1973, I expanded this piece into a piano solo and later further developed it into a piano concerto performed by a Western symphony orchestra. This piece contains numerous segments where the piano mimics the guzheng, as the piano can emulate the guzheng more easily than other instruments, and similarly, the guzheng is well-suited to mimic the piano, especially in the techniques of arpeggios and scales.

Historically, piano performance was categorized into different schools such as the Russian, German-Austrian, French, and Polish schools. 

However, this categorization has fallen out of favor today. In the past, due to limited transportation and communication, music from one country could not quickly spread worldwide. During Tchaikovsky’s lifetime, his music was not as popular as it is today. 

Similarly, when Liszt was active, cultural and artistic centers like Paris, Saint Petersburg, and Moscow were crucial for his performances. He had to travel by horse-drawn carriage from Paris to Saint Petersburg, a journey that took several months each way. Back then, countries like Russia, Germany, Austria, France, and Poland were at the forefront of piano music, each developing its distinctive characteristics. 

Of course, these characteristics were not absolute; the schools influenced each other. Today, a concert in Paris can be simultaneously watched online, allowing Russian pianists and students to easily access performances from Germany. This accessibility has diminished the distinction between schools, allowing performers to develop individual styles without necessarily being tied to their country of origin in critiques.

Liu Shikun is a renowned pianist and composer. (This is adapted from an interview with CSST.)

Edited by WENG RONG