A Culturally Rich Year in Vietnam

After an unbelievable year of performing, composing, and collaborating in Vietnam, I have finally returned to my hometown of Teaneck, NJ. It’s bittersweet because I really did have an amazing experience abroad, but I’m also excited to be back and teaching my students, playing gigs, and composing more music.

I had so many performances in Vietnam that I’ll never forget. I played cello in a running stream of water while people danced and frolicked around me as my wife led a Dance/Movement Therapy workshop. Was I the only one wearing rain boots instead of being barefoot because I’m a curmudgeon? Of course I was. I had to take the cello on a rickety canoe across a river and then walk through the jungle to get there, too.

I collaborated numerous times with the superbly talented, Duyệt Thị Trang. Our cello and đàn tranh improvisational duo took us everywhere: the U.S. Embassy, a packed to the gills show at Heritage Space, and even the jungles of Vietnam.

I had the real pleasure and fortune to collaborate with Phan Y Ly and Eliott Malderez as well. We created the group, Mandala, which combined cello with đàn tranh, sào meo, and percussion. They became my really good friends and we’d often hang out and just improvise for hours. There were so many improvisations that I am super proud of. They came over on my birthday and surprised me (I was taking a nap and wasn’t exactly Mr. Friendly when I opened the door). I remember we improvised one song that really brought me to that next level, following which they made me eat a Vietnamese specialty called, Chân Gà Đông Tảo, which is a chicken foot that looks like it came from a chicken that was a professional bodybuilder.

I had some really beautiful solo performances in Vietnam as well. I played to packed houses at Vincom Center for Contemporary Arts and The Hanoi Social Club, where I got to debut some new compositions that I had written since being in Vietnam. After going to Trang An and taking a canoe around the staggeringly beautiful rock formations in the water, I was inspired to write a piece about it. There was something really mysterious about these geological structures that resonated with me.

I had the great fortune to be selected for two music residencies in collaboration with Lune Production and Phu Sa Lab. I met musicians from across Vietnam and got to make music with instruments I had never even seen or heard of before. A lot of them were custom made, one-of-a-kind instruments. These residences were really intensive, no days off, but the opportunity to create, explore, and make connections with these superb players was invaluable. I certainly will collaborate in the future with a lot of these musicians in some capacity.

I collaborated with my wife a bunch for her Dance/Movement Therapy workshops. I played for her workshops across the country, but the most powerful one for me was working with the Vietnamese soldiers from the American War. It was a small group, but the connection that we had was extremely powerful and made me quite thankful for the opportunity. I hope that my wife and I can expand upon this premise of working with soldiers (hopefully from both Vietnam and the USA) in order to help them heal from the war.

What I’m most excited about taking back the USA and expanding upon is my studies and compositions with the đàn bầu. I still have a lot to learn, but I feel like it’s going to become an integral part of my writing and hopefully performing as well. I busted out a small đàn bầu solo for the first time at a gig that my fellow residents and I played at this beachside restaurant in An Bang. As I grow more confident on the đàn bầu, I’ll definitely be working it into my live performances more. There’s a world of possibility with this instrument, especially the combination with cello.

Well it was truly an eye opening year in Vietnam and I’m very grateful for the opportunity. I’m back now at the Bryan Wilson Cello Studio in Teaneck, NJ and I’m getting ready to teach a bunch of new students, to record cello for artists across the globe, and to write some new pieces for cello and đàn bầu.

Learning Something New: The Dàn Bầu

The first time I came to Vietnam, I went to go see the traditional water puppet show in Hanoi and though I did fall asleep (much to the chagrin of my wife), I fell in love with the dàn bầu. The dàn bầu has such an amazing character to it. The sound is bendy and wobbly, but extremely soulful and deep. You can really sing on the instrument.

After hearing that I loved the dàn bầu, master instrument maker and my frequent collaborator, Duyệt Thị Trang, offered to make one for me. I was stunned and flattered. The next time he was in Hanoi he gave me this handmade dàn bầu that had my name on it. I was very excited.

After a bit of messing around on the instrument I decided to take some actual lessons. It was nice to finally be the student again and have someone show me the ropes.

One thing I’ve noticed now that I have returned to being a student is that it has definitely made me a better cello teacher. Learning something for the first time, you are well acquainted with how frustrating it can be. There are times where I definitely want to pick up the dàn bầu and chuck it out the window. I’ve felt this SO MANY times with the cello (even to this day). Luckily, my students can’t hear me practicing…they might hear some interesting language when I screw something up.

But with that frustration comes the realization and understanding of what it’s like for your students. I’ve been playing cello for over 20 years now, so a lot of playing is second nature to me. Sometimes you forget what it was like at the very beginning of your journey and lose the perspective of someone who is trying to learn the instrument for the first time. It’s funny because I think the dàn bầu must be extremely hard to learn if you have no musical background at all. There are no frets (only harmonics) and you can bend the notes however much you want, so there’s no fixed intonation like on a piano or guitar. I kept thinking, man how does anyone learn this instrument? I mean I’m a professional cellist, so I have a really good ear and know music quite well, but still it’s not easy.

Then I realized, it’s almost the exact same thing for most of my cello students. Most of them have never played an instrument before and are learning the cello, an instrument with no fixed intonation, a bow, and endless challenges. My students must feel the same way.

So it’s good to be humbled and to reconnect with what it feels like to be a beginner. That being said, another thing I like to instill in my students is the creative spirit. Look, I didn’t plan on learning dàn bầu to become a master of traditional Vietnamese music. I certainly would love to learn some and understand its roots and history, but my goal for learning the instrument was to make it my own. To use it for composing, performing, and pushing the boundaries of what it was originally intended for.

I decided to start writing cello and dàn bầu duets to challenge myself not only on the instrument, but compositionally as well. Now, I am NOT good at dàn bầu just yet, but thanks to my years of musical experience and handy studio editing techniques, I can make it seem halfway passable. This is honestly totally fine with me. It’s not about it being perfect, it’s more about the process of learning, experimenting, and creating something new. If there’s anything that I can teach my students that will benefit them for the rest of their lives, it’s this.

The classical music world often gets caught up with perfection and by doing so misses out on trying something different and possibly enjoying it. I hope you like the first cello and dàn bầu duet, I plan on writing more and continuing to be a student of the instrument.