
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


Interview conducted on March 17, 2025, in Bergen during the Borealis Festival.This is a Chinese language programme without subtitles.
KLASSIKOM: Please introduce yourself and tell us about your latest work.
Tze Yeung Ho: My name is He Ziyang (Tze Yeung Ho). I am a composer working primarily in Norway and Finland; my parents are from Hong Kong. Recently, my opera Nara, for which I wrote the music, was performed at the Borealis Festival. The libretto was written by my longtime collaborator, the Norwegian writer Lina Gabrielsson. We have worked together for many years.
About three years ago, we began asking ourselves what an opera on a Chinese subject might look like. We started searching for an appropriate historical theme. Initially, I suggested the story of Empress Dowager Cixi. Lina then undertook extensive historical research, including the period surrounding the Eight-Nation Alliance.
Gradually, however, she found herself less drawn to the grand narrative of war and more intrigued by the question of the abolition of foot-binding. In the vast sweep of Chinese history, this might seem a small detail, yet it profoundly shaped the lives of women. Within the enormity of historical events, it is precisely such intimate, embodied practices that can produce the deepest transformations.
I have been interested in Chinese history since childhood. Although I did not grow up in the mainland and therefore encountered history differently from those educated there, I have always felt a spontaneous urge to explore my cultural and historical inheritance.
Before writing this opera, had you composed other chamber operas?
Yes. In 2019, I took part in a composition competition at the Shanghai New Music Week (re-branded as Shanghai New Music Festival since 2023), where I collaborated with several young musicians from Shanghai to create a chamber opera titled Woodford Pierson. Its original Norwegian title is HVORFOR PUSEN?, meaning “Why Pussycat?”
That work also addressed questions related to women’s experience. The original author wrote the book after having a child with Down syndrome. In Norway, a mother has the legal right to decide whether to carry such a pregnancy to term. The book poses a series of difficult questions about whether or not to have the child. Although the author knew inwardly that he would choose to keep the child, he wished to explore the psychological and ethical dilemmas a mother faces in making that decision.
Both Woodford Pierson and Nara engage with women’s themes. Why does this subject particularly interest you?
To a large extent, this is due to Lina’s influence. Much of her writing revolves around motherhood. I began collaborating with her in 2017, when I was pursuing my master’s degree in Oslo. At that time, she was already writing books centered on maternal experience. Through our collaboration, these themes naturally became part of my own creative landscape.
We work very well together. Beyond opera, we have completed projects in other forms. She appreciates that I approach subjects with openness, and I am always willing to explore new directions in my music.
You had your first opera in Shanghai in 2019 and your second six years later in Bergen. Compared to the first, in what ways have you grown?
The greatest development lies in my understanding of language and poetic expression — particularly in how to shape rhythm and prosody in Norwegian. The musical setting of text is crucial.
The two operas differ significantly in theme and form. With each project, we experiment with new structures, new musical vocabularies, and new literary approaches. Our overall method remains exploratory and experimental.
Do you enjoy working in the chamber opera format?
Very much so. Compared with the institutional framework of large opera houses, chamber opera is far more flexible. I can participate in choosing the singers, collaborating artists, and other creative details. In traditional opera houses, many collaborators are pre-assigned. Chamber opera allows greater freedom to work with people who share similar artistic visions.
Why is this opera titled Nara?
The name is layered with meaning. In Manchu, “Nara” may relate to words such as “sun” or “river.” It also evokes Nora, the heroine of Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House. Furthermore, Cixi’s clan name was Yehe Nara, which contains “Nara.” The title therefore operates as a kind of pun, holding multiple resonances at once.
The opera is set during the Qing dynasty. Did you incorporate Chinese musical elements?
Yes. In the sections depicting two imperial edicts issued by Cixi, I drew on the style of Cantonese nanyin. Some melodic material was also inspired by a song written by Wanrong, the last empress of China. Wanrong was herself a composer and wrote a piece about a kite. I found the song online. It may not be widely known, but the image of the kite struck me as particularly evocative.
In the opera, there is a fictional young girl who encounters Cixi, and together they fly a kite. The melody associated with the kite thus became a significant source of inspiration.
Besides nanyin and the guzheng, Western instruments are also used. How do you combine Chinese and Western elements?
The integration is closely related to language — especially the rhythm and tonal contours of Cantonese. I collaborated with an ensemble called Yi Cai Luo Gu, and together we experimented continuously with different sonic combinations. I would propose ideas; they would respond as to whether something was feasible. The entire process unfolded step by step, through trial, adjustment, and refinement. There is no fixed formula.
The premiere used both Norwegian and Cantonese. If the opera tours outside Norway, would you consider performing it in English?
We have discussed this within the team. Some feel that Norwegian is particularly appropriate. Historically, the Nordic countries were not part of the Eight-Nation Alliance. Using Norwegian creates a certain historical distance. If we were to use English, audiences might immediately associate the story with Britain or other imperial powers, which would alter the perspective. Norwegian offers a more oblique vantage point.
The opera has now been performed twice. What are your plans going forward?
The Hong Kong New Music Ensemble has expressed interest in presenting it in Asia, though no specific venue has been confirmed. Since our team members are based in different countries, coordination is not simple. Hong Kong is a strong possibility, as the Cantonese elements resonate with the local cultural context. Singapore could also be an option, but nothing has been finalized.
The opera features a mezzo-soprano and a countertenor. The countertenor portrays the eunuch An Dehai. Was this casting symbolic?
Yes, very much so. Historically, the countertenor voice developed from the tradition of castrato singers, which bears a symbolic resonance with the identity of a eunuch. I have known the singer portraying An Dehai, Sean Bell, for some time and am familiar with his vocal and theatrical strengths. I felt this role suited him exceptionally well.
By Rudolph TangInterview conducted on March 17, 2025, in Bergen during the Borealis Festival.This is a Chinese language programme without subtitles.
KLASSIKOM: Please introduce yourself and tell us about your latest work.
Tze Yeung Ho: My name is He Ziyang (Tze Yeung Ho). I am a composer working primarily in Norway and Finland; my parents are from Hong Kong. Recently, my opera Nara, for which I wrote the music, was performed at the Borealis Festival. The libretto was written by my longtime collaborator, the Norwegian writer Lina Gabrielsson. We have worked together for many years.
About three years ago, we began asking ourselves what an opera on a Chinese subject might look like. We started searching for an appropriate historical theme. Initially, I suggested the story of Empress Dowager Cixi. Lina then undertook extensive historical research, including the period surrounding the Eight-Nation Alliance.
Gradually, however, she found herself less drawn to the grand narrative of war and more intrigued by the question of the abolition of foot-binding. In the vast sweep of Chinese history, this might seem a small detail, yet it profoundly shaped the lives of women. Within the enormity of historical events, it is precisely such intimate, embodied practices that can produce the deepest transformations.
I have been interested in Chinese history since childhood. Although I did not grow up in the mainland and therefore encountered history differently from those educated there, I have always felt a spontaneous urge to explore my cultural and historical inheritance.
Before writing this opera, had you composed other chamber operas?
Yes. In 2019, I took part in a composition competition at the Shanghai New Music Week (re-branded as Shanghai New Music Festival since 2023), where I collaborated with several young musicians from Shanghai to create a chamber opera titled Woodford Pierson. Its original Norwegian title is HVORFOR PUSEN?, meaning “Why Pussycat?”
That work also addressed questions related to women’s experience. The original author wrote the book after having a child with Down syndrome. In Norway, a mother has the legal right to decide whether to carry such a pregnancy to term. The book poses a series of difficult questions about whether or not to have the child. Although the author knew inwardly that he would choose to keep the child, he wished to explore the psychological and ethical dilemmas a mother faces in making that decision.
Both Woodford Pierson and Nara engage with women’s themes. Why does this subject particularly interest you?
To a large extent, this is due to Lina’s influence. Much of her writing revolves around motherhood. I began collaborating with her in 2017, when I was pursuing my master’s degree in Oslo. At that time, she was already writing books centered on maternal experience. Through our collaboration, these themes naturally became part of my own creative landscape.
We work very well together. Beyond opera, we have completed projects in other forms. She appreciates that I approach subjects with openness, and I am always willing to explore new directions in my music.
You had your first opera in Shanghai in 2019 and your second six years later in Bergen. Compared to the first, in what ways have you grown?
The greatest development lies in my understanding of language and poetic expression — particularly in how to shape rhythm and prosody in Norwegian. The musical setting of text is crucial.
The two operas differ significantly in theme and form. With each project, we experiment with new structures, new musical vocabularies, and new literary approaches. Our overall method remains exploratory and experimental.
Do you enjoy working in the chamber opera format?
Very much so. Compared with the institutional framework of large opera houses, chamber opera is far more flexible. I can participate in choosing the singers, collaborating artists, and other creative details. In traditional opera houses, many collaborators are pre-assigned. Chamber opera allows greater freedom to work with people who share similar artistic visions.
Why is this opera titled Nara?
The name is layered with meaning. In Manchu, “Nara” may relate to words such as “sun” or “river.” It also evokes Nora, the heroine of Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House. Furthermore, Cixi’s clan name was Yehe Nara, which contains “Nara.” The title therefore operates as a kind of pun, holding multiple resonances at once.
The opera is set during the Qing dynasty. Did you incorporate Chinese musical elements?
Yes. In the sections depicting two imperial edicts issued by Cixi, I drew on the style of Cantonese nanyin. Some melodic material was also inspired by a song written by Wanrong, the last empress of China. Wanrong was herself a composer and wrote a piece about a kite. I found the song online. It may not be widely known, but the image of the kite struck me as particularly evocative.
In the opera, there is a fictional young girl who encounters Cixi, and together they fly a kite. The melody associated with the kite thus became a significant source of inspiration.
Besides nanyin and the guzheng, Western instruments are also used. How do you combine Chinese and Western elements?
The integration is closely related to language — especially the rhythm and tonal contours of Cantonese. I collaborated with an ensemble called Yi Cai Luo Gu, and together we experimented continuously with different sonic combinations. I would propose ideas; they would respond as to whether something was feasible. The entire process unfolded step by step, through trial, adjustment, and refinement. There is no fixed formula.
The premiere used both Norwegian and Cantonese. If the opera tours outside Norway, would you consider performing it in English?
We have discussed this within the team. Some feel that Norwegian is particularly appropriate. Historically, the Nordic countries were not part of the Eight-Nation Alliance. Using Norwegian creates a certain historical distance. If we were to use English, audiences might immediately associate the story with Britain or other imperial powers, which would alter the perspective. Norwegian offers a more oblique vantage point.
The opera has now been performed twice. What are your plans going forward?
The Hong Kong New Music Ensemble has expressed interest in presenting it in Asia, though no specific venue has been confirmed. Since our team members are based in different countries, coordination is not simple. Hong Kong is a strong possibility, as the Cantonese elements resonate with the local cultural context. Singapore could also be an option, but nothing has been finalized.
The opera features a mezzo-soprano and a countertenor. The countertenor portrays the eunuch An Dehai. Was this casting symbolic?
Yes, very much so. Historically, the countertenor voice developed from the tradition of castrato singers, which bears a symbolic resonance with the identity of a eunuch. I have known the singer portraying An Dehai, Sean Bell, for some time and am familiar with his vocal and theatrical strengths. I felt this role suited him exceptionally well.