I have to blog about this with immediacy because the experience is still fresh in my mind and I have been deeply inspired by it.

We watch a film The Overture (http://www.kino.com/theoverture/) in lecture for Old and New Music in Southeast Asia.

The Overture traces the life of the great Thai ranad-ek (Thai wooden xylophone) player and later teacher, Luang Pradit Phairao, exemplified through the character of Sorn. You can read more about the ranad-ek and view a picture of it through this link:
http://www.culture.go.th/research/musical/html/en_musical_central.php?musical=ranad_ek.

The time frame shuttles between the past and the present. You can almost say that it completes a full cycle, because the film opens with the old Sorn lying on his sickbed with his best childhood friend and his family by his side, and it ends in the same way, except that we find out that the state of his health is much worse and he eventually dies.

It is discovered that Sorn has a natural affinity for the ranad, which his elder brother also plays. Their father is a musician as well, the leader of an ensemble.

Sorn’s dreams of becoming a musician nearly vanish after his elder is killed by jealous musicians, whom he had competed against. Heartbroken, his father stores away the ranad as the look and sound of it reminds him of his late son. Sorn has to practice clandestinely at a temple. Thankfully, a sangha advises the father not to let his grief thwart Sorn’s talents. The father takes Sorn under his wing and trains him as a musician. Sorn’s primary instrument is the ranad-ek, the lead instrument in the Thai music ensemble. At the same time, he also learns how to play other instruments from the rest of the players in the ensemble. In a way he has an all-rounded training that prepares him to take on other instrument, although his primary focus is still the ranad-ek.

The film then takes us through stages of Sorn’s youth. His achievements culminate at a music competition at the Royal Court where he is pitted against another great ranak-ed player, Khun In, who comes from another court and is his primary rival. We see Sorn’s rise and fall as a musician struggling to express himself, who is, at times, held back by traditional, orthodox ideas towards performance styles. Experimentation is sometimes viewed negatively as insolence. Several times in the film does Sorn get rapped by senior musicians, including his own father: ‘How dare you play like that!’ Nevertheless there are also people who are refreshed by Sorn’s adventurous outlook in music. They recognize his talent and encourage him warmly. The master at the Royal Court who eventually prepares Sorn for the competition allows his protégé to find his voice, rather than dictate the young man towards acceptable styles.

In the course of showing the history of young Sorn, the film seamlessly threads into Sorn’s life in old age, where he is a much-respected music master and teacher. There are two premises in this situation: (1) the relationship between Sorn and his disciple, Terd, who seems to mirror Sorn in his younger days as he is being mentored by an experienced senior; (2) the struggle to overcome ‘absurd’ and ‘ridiculous’ (to quote words used in the film) regulations issued by the Thai military government during the period of the Japanese Occupation in its effort to modernize and develop Thai society by wiping out old customs. For instance, a rule dictates that musicians are not allowed to sit on the floor while playing – they have to sit on a chair and put the instrument on the table. Every performance has to be censored by the authorities – during a street theatrical performance, soldiers hold up the show while they censure the script and spell out rules and regulations that the troupe must abide by.

The ‘present’ provides a glimpse as to what kind of a musician Sorn really is. He is open to new ideas, is not afraid to experiment, and at the same time very defensive about tradition. Sure, you respect the mannerisms of performing a instrument, but when it comes musical styles there are no boundaries to what you can coax out of the instrument. To prove it, there is a scene whereby Sorn’s second son plays a jazz composition for his father on a piano he had acquired from Austria that he recently added to the household. After listening for a while, Sorn tells him to stop. We think that Sorn is going to reprimand him for playing such pieces, given that Sorn is a classical Thai musician. But no, Sorn goes to the ranad, and tells his son to play the piece again. They jam. It is an interesting fusion not only in instrumentation but in harmonies and rhythms as well. A classic sound fused with a modern, contemporary Western one.

There are many instances of passion exhibited in the performance that leave me tingling in the spine and very, very touched. Firstly, Sorn’s control of his instrument. His attack; his phrasing; his virtuosity. Those scenes of musical performances are very exciting to watch, especially the showdown between Sorn and Khun In in a one-to-one competition where each musician tries to outdo the other. Accompanied by a driving drumbeat that only gets faster and faster, each musician delivers his solo in rapid succession, watching their rival with astonishment and sometimes pure fear, probably wondering how to outdo him when it came to his turn. I will post the Youtube video of the competition on the blog for you to enjoy. The performance begins on 8/10 at 03:30, and continues into 9/10. If you are fascinated and would like to watch the entire movie from beginning to finish, get a DVD with subtitles, because the dialogue is all spoken in Thai.

Second, Piak (Sorn’s eldest son, also a good ranad-ek player) commits suicide after a bad accident causes him to break his wrist – ranad-playing depends very much on deft wrist-work, especially when one has to play repeated notes on the same key with extreme rapidity. Without music, there is not much left for him to live life for. I am shocked that he chooses to end his life, yet I am profoundly touched and I admire his deep passion for music. Music has really become his life.

Third, Terd’s bravery and his disregard for life as he tries to salvage the ranad during an air-raid. Just as Terd and old Sorn get into their car, the air-raid sirens go off. They abandon the car, and make their way towards shelter. Halfway, Terd realizes that he has forgotten to bring the ranad, which he has left in the boot of their vehicle. He tells Sorn to move ahead, despite Sorn’s protests, returns to the car. Just as he retrieves the ranad, a bomb falls near him and knocks him out. The ranad falls to the floor; we fear that Terd has lost his life and the ranad destroyed. A fruitless effort.

Moments later, at the air-raid siren, Terd appears in front of his master, carrying the ranad in its entirety.

These musicians really give all their lives for their art. Really respectable and admirable!

I must admit I went into the lecture theatre not expecting much, but I am thoroughly impressed by the time the film ends (and the lecture ends as well). Of course the music might have been scored to sound so virtuosic – composers are credited for the score but we do not know if any of the pieces were classic Thai works, where it has not been the practice to put a composers’ name as the credit behind the work. But I must say I am now very fascinated by the sound of the ranad and other Thai instruments, that I really want to explore much more deeply in this area. And the ranad itself is such a versatile instrument for an ensemble – one instrument and one type of mallet can produce sounds from mellow to sharp, and stand above the ensemble most of the time.