
The Dressing of a Cow (2023)
The year 2016, when I delved into Professor Xia Kejun's "Butchering the Bull," feels as though it transpired but yesterday. I am pleased to avail myself of this opportunity to recommend this profound work, along with the philosophical musings of Professor Xia Kejun and Zhuangzi. To economize space, at the same time considering the philosophies expounded by Professor Xia and Zhuangzi within the original books, let us proffer a categorical, albeit potentially flawed, assertion: in contrast to the Western tradition of "binary opposition," Zhuangzi proffers the possibility of a "triumvirate equilibrium." Here, the "binary opposition" may be conceived as the juxtaposition of idealism and materialism, subjectivity and objectivity, and the dialectical —a very rough sketch of the Western traditions (mainly before 1950s). In turn, the "triumvirate equilibrium" seeks to circumvent these oppositions, positing a tripartite proposition of "human-technology-nature," wherein an infinite expanse unfurls. One thing to note here is that both Xia and Zhuanzi’s writing are in Chinese and it would be preferable to use cross references, and here is a great reference source from prof. David K Jordan: https://pages.ucsd.edu/~dkjordan/chin/LaoJuang/DawOfCow.html.
The hermeneutics of the story are encapsulated, we may tentatively posit, in eight characters: "Butcher Pao Ding cuts the cow with ease."
(a direct quote from prof. Jordan’s webpage)
Dissected, "Butcher Pao Ding" represents humanity, the "blade" tentatively signifies the amalgamation of technology and matter, while the "cow" embodies nature or its concrete manifestation. Considered collectively, "Butcher Pao Ding cuts the cow" illustrates the dichotomy between humanity and nature, "cuts with ease" portrays the adept application of technology, and "with ease" represents not only an attainable skill, but also an illuminative lesson the fable imparts: that through technology, humans can possibly attain unity with nature. In this state of "with ease," Pao Ding not only dissects the cow but also becomes the cow. To achieve this state of "with ease," one must be intimately acquainted with the cow, to the point of becoming the cow. Concurrently, the cow is not merely being dissected; it is also being sculpted, transformed into an extension and vessel of Pao Ding’s will, thereby becoming Pao Ding. Furthermore, because Pao Ding cuts with ease, he opens up the flesh of the cow. In opening the flesh of the cow, he concurrently unlocks his own thoughts, gaining new knowledge and, consequently, opening up space rather than constricting it. The space opened up becomes the space of human existence, just as the dissected flesh becomes the nourishment for human survival. This hermeneutical significance of "opening up space" is profoundly emblematic of Chinese philosophy. This stands in stark contrast to the prevailing modern Western discourse, characterized by thinkers like Heidegger, which emphasizes the "concealing of nature/being" through technology and the consequent "concealing/closing of space."
In this passage, music is both the "blade" and the "cow". Through music, which is the "blade", we open up space. Music, which is also the "cow", can also be opened. Thus, we can open up space through the act of opening music. We can open the "blade", as well as the inner realm of the "self". The four works I present herein draw inspiration from the preceding discussions. They delve into four distinct junctures/scenes encapsulating the nuanced process of preparing a cow, a narrative interwoven with the notion of space unfolding:
Firstly, the staging of the cow, the mise-en-scene of the story, which, by isolating the issues of subjectivity, relates to a theatricality of objects, that is, the potentiality of the blade and the cow that it is about to enter. Here, we're confronted with the potentiality inherent in the interplay between the blade and the cow, yet no decisive action has taken place. The structural integrity of the "cow," emblematic of Western music, remains intact, yet the latent force of the knife lingers palpably.
Secondly, we pivot to the incision, a ritualistic act entailing the severing of membranes and fabrications, coupled with the measured movements of the blade. This scene resonates with themes of synchronization and technology. As we engage in this act of cutting through flesh, our understanding of the cow deepens. Its structural essence is at its zenith, but soon, the inevitable metamorphosis shall commence.
An examination ensues: the aftermath of the incision, a tableau that juxtaposes life and the subsequent vestiges of damage. Here, we witness the evocative undulations of muscles, akin to the endless ripples of waves and sounds, supporting the colossal framework.
And lastly, the existence of death and trauma, as an unavoidable/necessary fact, or structure. Note that this is not death in the ordinary sense. Butcher Pao, with his extraordinary prowess, ensures no harm befalls the internal organs and structures. The cow is dissected in a manner that preserves the illusion of wholeness. It is an extraordinary death, nothing is destroyed, yet something new outgrows from the remains. It could be new spaces being opened up, it could also be the potential of nourishment for life. It is an abstract death that supersedes the particularities and announces the arrival of new life.
In these pieces of music, I aspire to embody at least two processes. Firstly, concerning the structural framework of (Western) music (which can also be likened to the "cow"), it is dissected by several closely related prime frequencies throughout the entire composition; the pitch remains confined within a narrow space, as if the whole piece were a solitary, smooth gap. Within this incision made by the blade, we glimpse the tensioned space that rejects the presence of Western equal temperament and harmonic resonance. When our musical system is opened up, the blade becomes the subject, and the ever-changing timbre of the same pitch becomes a new paradigm of aesthetics. Here, let us momentarily draw upon Ranciere’s' aesthetic theory, where form, even existence itself, no longer serves as the vessel of beauty, but rather becomes the material/fabric of beauty itself: when timbre, and the sound process itself, no longer function as carriers of beauty, no longer serve as carriers of classical mathematics/harmonic beauty, but instead become a direct, material/objective, and ultimately aesthetic paradigm of the unknowable, this aesthetic is reflexive. The blade (timbre) here is reflexive; it can not only open up traditional structural space (such as in some curatorial sense, a "new" style of art), but more importantly, it can reflexively open itself, for it does not require external tension—it is tension, it is the unfolding of the sound process itself.
There are spaces in the joints , and the edge of a knife is not thick; what has no thickness enters an open space, it easily moves through with plenty of room.
彼节者有间,而刀刃者无厚,以无厚入有闲,恢恢乎其于游刃必有余地矣。
Bǐ jié zhě yǒujiàn, ér dāorèn zhě wú hòu, yǐ wú hòu rù yǒu xián, huīhuī hū qí yú yóu rèn bì yǒuyú dì yǐ.