Establishing a Musical Identity as a Second-Generation Chinese-American Jazz Musician

Through my elementary and middle school years, growing up in a small, fairly rural area with a 95.89% caucasian population (thank you Wikipedia), I was often very sensitive towards my race. I suppose a lot of second-generation kids are. I grew up eating rice with chopsticks. I had parents who were Chinese immigrants. They spoke with an accent. They made me learn piano from age six. They were crazy drivers. They made me study until my temporal lobes chafed and bled. I had this alien skin color and these crazy eyes that didn't look like anybody else's. In elementary and particularly middle school, when the only deviance from conformity not considered a cardinal sin was the "rebel" type (and being Chinese was not seen as rebellious at all, in case you didn't know), these qualities naturally made me different. My friends didn't care, although random people I would occasionally come across did. But you can't blame them really-perhaps teenage agnst, Early-Onset Uber-Conservativitis, or, more likely, a need to plant ugly cacti in an otherwise barren existence was responsible. All digression aside, these few-and-far-betweeners made me, a small, impressionable boy of 12 or 13, doubt my worth and validity.

However, high school brought some dramatic changes. No longer did I care what anybody thought. This did not happen overnight, but it certainly was not a long and arduous process. I simply became comfortable in my own skin, proud of my own uniqueness and able to laugh at my quirks. Now, in college, I am fascinated by my heritage and eager to forge a unique identity for myself based upon this heritage. The only question is, how?

In order to be my own individual while maintaining my culture, I need to first define who I am in the first place:

Christian Li (n.) Biologically of the species homo sapiens, originating in Montreal, Quebec with ancestral roots in East Asia. One of seven Christian Li's in the United States (thank you howmanyofme.com) Daily habits revolve around jazz music, schoolwork, spirituality, running, reflection, and the persuit of knowledge. Has a tendency to be verbose and overemphatic.

So here we have the Webster's Dictionary definition of me. Each word in the English language has its own unique usage, sound, and connotations. Certain combinations of words can sound poetic while another combination with the same meaning can sound clunky and banal. In other words, each word has its own niche. The key to figuring out the niche of a word is to look for aspects of its definition or even its sound and structure that set it apart from the millions of other words in the English language and then again from the other words that have the same basic meaning. Looking at the definition of Christian Li, the element that is most exploitable to me is Jazz music. This is my basic meaning, my essence. So if I am defined by Jazz, and Jazz piano to be specific, in what context would the use of "Christian Li" be preferable to, say, "Herbie Hancock," "Brad Mehldau," or "Keith Jarrett"? An impossible question on first glance. How could I even think to put myself in the same sentence as those legends of jazz piano? However, as is the case when comparing any two given musicians (regardless of experience or talent), I have something to offer that they do not: my heritage. Jazz is something largely untouched by the Chinese, although it is starting to grow in popularity. Even in the United States, there are very few jazz musicians of Chinese heritage. Furthermore, nowhere does it say that elements of Chinese music cannot be combined with Jazz. Although the fusion of the two genres will obviously require some sanding down of square pegs in order to fit into round holes, it, once dreamed up and sought after, can be accomplished. What better way to expand the public's perception of the lush, vibrant, and age-old tradition of Chinese music, a music that we so often condense into the striking of a gong and the sounding of a cliche riff based on fourths? Bridging the gap between the elements of my heritage and the elements of the music that I play (which, by the way, is most definitely a work in progress) is a way to begin to embrace and expose my culture while being a unique individual. I definitely don't have to have an accent or play the erhu or be into Chinese opera in order to be Chinese.

Of course, this blog was not written for me as an outlet for all my egotistical babbling. In the macrocosmic plane of higher relevancy, for those who are struggling to build their shining monument amidst the crowded city, perhaps the answer lies not in importing expensive, difficult-to-carve materials to create a monument that bears no resemblance to yourself but rather to the idealized image of those who came before you (consider Egyptian Ka statues, and also consider ancient Egypt's lack of artistic innovation over thousands of years). Perhaps the answer lies simply with indigenous materials, forward thought coupled with an understanding of the past, and a some observation of the relevant qualities of the surrounding world (consider the Kritios Boy statue, which helped Greek art transition from its Archaic Period to its Classical Period). Our identities are constantly staring us down. All it takes is for us to have the courage to look up and meet their penetrating gazes.