Each qin piece has its own framework. For example, gong, shang, jue, zhi and yu are modes that do not call for changing the relative tuning. (Yet they differ in that) gong mode melodies are harmonious and balanced; shang are clear and bright but with shorter resonance; jue and zhi are slower, conveying a sense of sorrow; and yu is plaintive, capturing its essence. As for the non-standard modes (requiring changing the tuning), though acoustically intricate, they tend toward the decadent sounds of Zheng and Wei music, leading to what is termed “mixing purple with vermilion,” implying a loss of purity.

The ‘pin’ style differs entirely from the ‘diaozi’ style, requiring swift dynamics. Modern players often perform diaozi as if they were ‘caonong’ (操弄), neglecting rhythm.

In caonong, each phrase begins with a leading word; at the end, there’s a pause, holding two notes before connecting to the next phrase, contrasting with diaozi. If learners grasp these three aspects, they can distinguish between pin, diaozi, and qu (曲).

On Music Sections (凡樂部之曲):

Traditional compositions, influenced by the music of Zheng and Wei, evolved from guqin pieces. Aspiring guqin players should first study these compositions, understanding their structures: slow two, fast three, slow four, fast seven. In slow pieces, the transitions—smooth, abrupt, penetrating, dragging—mirror guqin rhythms: vibrato, sliding, tapping, pressing, with breath taken before the beat and subtle sounds amidst noise. In grand compositions, techniques like preemptive strikes, breaking entries, and resting beats resemble major caonong rhythms. Recognizing the opening of a tune enables one to play pin; singing slow tunes aids in playing diaozi; mastering the breakdown of a piece leads to proficient caonong. With proper fingering, the intentions of ancient masters become evident. However, it’s unnecessary to learn extensively; focusing on one pin, two diaozi, and one caonong, as per my compiled methods, allows for specialized mastery, aligning one method with myriad techniques. Contemplating silently leads to profound understanding, achieving subtlety upon subtlety, intricacy upon intricacy. If my words are deemed appropriate, it would be most fortunate.

In qin pieces and diaozi, the concepts of initiation, development, and resolution may occur within a phrase, several phrases, a section, or an entire piece. This reflects the ancient masters’ deep emotions, restlessness, and constraints. Rhythms may correspond between two characters, phrases, or sections, with variations in pitch, weight, length, and speed. As Han Yu’s “Listening to the Qin” poem states:

These truly capture the essence.

If a ‘juan’ is used, and another follows, one must employ overlapping juan, double juan, or even continuous juan; this progression from few to many, and vice versa, exemplifies rhythmic finesse. Master Yihai once said: “As swift as countless stars without chaos; as gentle as flowing water without end.” In guqin pieces, when approaching a pause, anticipate the next phrase’s onset, retaining the final note of the previous phrase to connect seamlessly. This requires “releasing tension in dense parts, tightening in sparse parts.” Capturing the tonal essence should avoid abruptness; one must leave a trace of resonance, transitioning to the next phrase at the point of incompletion, termed “meaning beyond the notes.” As the saying goes: “Tasting an olive, one seeks its lingering flavor.” Understanding this deeply aligns with the ancient masters’ intentions. (It’s akin to cursive script, where silent strokes connect characters.)

Techniques like pressing, lifting, striking, and plucking also possess rhythm; embodying the principle of “tightness within looseness, looseness within tightness.” For instance, when using striking and plucking, they shouldn’t be continuous but divided into two distinct sounds, ensuring clarity in dense sections. Final notes, picking, hooking, lifting, striking, and plucking should follow this pattern: the preceding character aligns with the previous phrase, the succeeding character with the next.

For example, when using the tenth position to strike the third string, named the eleventh, align it with the ‘dao’ technique; first set the third position, pause briefly, then apply the lifting sound with a slight vibrato, connecting to the next phrase. The scattered ‘tao’ five connects as a single sound, exemplifying “looseness within tightness.”

If employing striking, plucking, pressing, lifting, and ‘tao’ five, begin with a strike, pause briefly, then combine plucking, ‘dao’ lifting, and ‘tao’ five into a single sound. This is because ‘tiao’ five belongs to the subsequent phrase.

Techniques like ‘yin’ (vibrato), ‘rou’ (sliding), and ‘yin’ (pulling) should follow the completion of a note, allowing the residual sound to settle without confusion. Learners often misuse ‘yin’, failing to wait for the note’s completion, instead moving fingers back and forth on the string, mistaking it for novelty, thereby disrupting rhythm. For upward slides, one must first apply vibrato before sliding up; for downward slides, descending naturally leads to ‘nao’ (a specific technique).

When a preceding sound employs ‘yin’ or ‘nao’, the subsequent sound shouldn’t fear overlap; the same applies to pulling and other techniques.

Before playing caonong, one must first calm the mind, avoiding distractions. Adjusting dynamics and pitch within a piece is at the player’s discretion, not dictated by finger movements, naturally achieving the desired expression.

Master Yihai stated: “Clouds floating in the vast void, shaped by the wind into myriad forms, never losing their natural charm.” Han Yu also remarked: “Floating clouds and willow catkins, rootless, drifting across the expansive sky.” This place embodies ancient sentiments.

Each caonong is crafted with intent. Modern learners often play numerous pieces with indistinguishable sounds. For instance, “Spring Outing” and “Secluded Dwelling” differ in tone and meaning. A particular piece begins with Shun’s song “South Wind,” utilizing external harmonics, later transitioning to a melancholic tone. “Li Sao” mourns Qu Yuan; “Zhao Jun’s Lament” imagines her departure beyond the frontier. Their complex, overlapping sounds resemble women’s laments. “High Mountains” and “Green Waters” genuinely reflect the essence of forests and springs, aligning with the original intent of naming caonong.

Upward slides mustn’t exceed limits; downward slides, pressing down, are acceptable, as they harmonize with subsequent sounds. As the saying goes: “Climbing requires measured steps; overreaching leads to a steep fall.”

When tuning, first assess the general pitch, selecting one string as the reference, then adjust others accordingly. Too tight, and strings may break; too loose, and they produce no sound. A balanced tension yields optimal sound. Modern learners often over-tighten strings for higher pitch, believing it sounds clearer, but this sacrifices

(This section has specific fingering instructions not yet clarified.)

In qin performance, it is essential to regulate complexity and tempo to avoid chaotic or excessively rapid passages, as well as overly slow and unstructured ones. The techniques of ‘yin’ (vibrato) and ‘nao’ (rolling) should exhibit rises, degrees, and falls that align with the rhythm. Within a piece, three to five phrases may naturally form a small section. Begin with an initial phrase, pause briefly, then play several phrases, leaving two notes to connect swiftly to the first phrase of the next section, followed by another brief pause. Maintaining this consistent rhythm from start to finish allows the piece to flow naturally and slowly into a complete composition.

Modern players often lack understanding of this principle, playing as if beating a drum without recognizing the conclusion — truly a laughable matter! This greatly deviates from Master Yihai’s statement: “As rapid as a myriad stars without confusion; as slow as flowing water without cessation.” Such is a significant flaw in qin playing; those who understand music should pay close attention.

Han Yu’s “Listening to Master Ying Play the Qin” (says),

Some have given these interpretations: