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Sample translations submitted: 2
English to Chinese: 纽约爱乐开启梵志登时代 General field: Art/Literary Detailed field: Music
Source text - English Review: The Jaap van Zweden Era Begins at the Philharmonic
Jaap van Zweden, the New York Philharmonic’s new music director, could have began the season-opening gala concert on Thursday with something festive and familiar. Instead, he seized the occasion to make a strong statement of artistic purpose.
To open the program, he led the premiere of “Filament,” a dark, strange, exploratory work by the American composer Ashley Fure. Mr. van Zweden’s artistic daring as he introduced himself to New York was an encouraging sign of things to come at a moment when the Philharmonic is facing multiple challenges: a declining subscriber base; pressure to finalize a renovation plan for David Geffen Hall; and, just last week, the move to dismiss two players because of unspecified misconduct.
In “Filament,” a 14-minute work for three soloists, orchestra and moving voices, Ms. Fure sought, as she writes in the score, to “create a dynamic spatialization of sound whose angles and arrays shift around the audience in real time.” It’s an aural environment — yet, for all its calm, shimmering stretches, the music is kinetic and disruptive, even needling, by turns dreamy and dangerous.
In Rehearsal: Ashley Fure's "Filament"CreditCreditVideo by New York Philharmonic
One strand, played by the orchestra onstage, is for the most part precisely notated. It unfolds in thick, undulating waves and piercing sustained sonorities, interrupted with fragments that appear and evaporate. Three soloists perform from platforms: Rebekah Heller, bassoon (from the middle of an aisle in the hall); Brandon Lopez, bass (on the left side of the stage); and Nate Wooley, trumpet (behind the orchestra). The soloists have leeway in terms of what they play, and when.
In addition, 15 members of Constellation Chor, an improvising vocal ensemble, sing and whisper through acoustic megaphones. At the beginning of the performance they stood in various places throughout the hall; near the end, they walked slowly down the aisles to the lip of the stage. The vocal harmonies were sometimes so astringently captivating, I was convinced they must have been carefully composed. Not so.
One can’t help trying to discern recurring themes, development or narrative sweep. But Ms. Fure has something else in mind: making acoustic and amplified sounds push against one another within the concert hall’s space, and affecting listeners on a physical level. There, she succeeded. The sounds were often ravishing and eerie, even when I grew impatient to know where the piece was heading. I can hardly remember anything specific about it. But I loved being part of this enveloping sonic and communal experience.
Mr. van Zweden acted like a group leader, drawing the players and audience into the work. He was in effect announcing, right at the start of his tenure, that he intended to take chances with the Philharmonic and bring emerging creators into its circle. (It’s crucial that this was the first in a series of new and modern works that Mr. van Zweden will conduct throughout the season.)
Then he turned to more typical gala fare: Ravel’s jazz-infused Piano Concerto in G, with the brilliant Daniil Trifonov as soloist. This engrossing performance made clear that, for all its scintillating colors and jazzy riffs, modernist complexities run through the score.
Mr. Trifonov was manically exciting in dispatching the piano part’s spiraling passages and glissandos, its pummeling chords and jerky rhythms. When the first movement moved into a wistful, bluesy episode, Mr. Trifonov shaped the phrases with unabashed Russian Romantic rubato. That’s not the way I think of the music. But his honest, elegant playing beguiled me.
In the slow movement, which begins with a long piano solo, a kind of sad waltz, Mr. Trifonov played with affecting intimacy and tenderness, subtly highlighting the rhythmic twists in the melodic line while maintaining the overall gentleness. And in the breathless finale, he was uncommonly serious. During passages of oscillating piano chords, you might have thought this was Prokofiev.
The program ended with “The Rite of Spring.” Mr. van Zweden was brought to the Philharmonic in part because of his dynamic approach to the staples of the repertory, including this 1913 Stravinsky shocker. But this was a tale of two “Rites.”
During hard-driving, brutal episodes, like the all-hell-breaks-loose climax of the “Dance of the Adolescent Girls” and the crazed “Glorification of the Chosen One,” Mr. van Zweden drew incisive, blazingly powerful and vehement playing from the Philharmonic, though the sheer mass of sound was sometimes loud and raw.
But in the work’s mysterious and murky sections, including the introductions to each of its two parts, Mr. van Zweden seemed intent on bringing out depths, inner voices, unusual colorings, tectonic harmonic shifts and other details. Perhaps he tried too hard; the performance lost tension and became weighty, almost ponderous.
For an encore with a gala flourish, Mr. van Zweden led an aggressively feisty account of Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries.” Again, he sometimes pushed the orchestra to play with harsh, blaring sound. This tendency in his work is a warning sign.
Translation - Chinese 梵志登开启纽约爱乐任期，《纽约时报》给出这样的评论……
他在首场音乐会上展现了自己的艺术追求
English to Chinese: 王凝慧上海胶囊画廊展览介绍 General field: Art/Literary Detailed field: Art, Arts & Crafts, Painting
Source text - English The first thing one notices about Alice Wang’s exhibition at CAPSULE is the way her work subtly incorporates the space. The gallery—a combination exhibition space and art laboratory—occupies a lush 1930s garden house brilliantly redesigned by the architect Nunzia Carbone. Quietly hidden at the end of a winding alley, the gallery is filled with light and connects the outdoor green space to the interior through large leaded windows. Just as the gallery has a porous relationship with the environs that surround it, Wang’s work seems to mold to the features of the space.
The first piece that greets viewers is a large raised white flowerpot filled with mimosa pudica, a plant sensitive to movement that recoils and folds its leaves protectively inward when touched. The work does not announce itself immediately and could be as easily an extension of the garden outside as it is part of the exhibition. But it is the plant’s awareness of us rather than our awareness of it that is so uncanny—its slight movements as we unwittingly brush against it in passing, oblivious to its reaction. The exhibition includes a video installation (with Ben Tong) entitled Oracle (2017), a moody array of landscapes and organisms, but otherwise all the works are untitled, which gives them an additional sense of interiority; they are not here for us but for themselves, acting on their own.
There are works that are less delicate but no less potent as the mimosa pudica planter. A sliver of moss seemingly forced up through the floor like a tiny mountain edges towards the window, an escape measured on a tectonic clock. It is a work that plays off the stark white interior of the gallery and the dense sylvan world outside. In another piece, a large copper plate leaning against a wall transforms more rapidly, its colours altered by long streaks of condensation that form images like gas clouds or otherworldly topographies, patterns of bright, satisfying greens held on a deep earthen surface of the copper. The plate reacts to the mixture of late summer humidity, the rush of cool, conditioned air, and the presence of viewers in the space. The work shares visual echoes with Andy Warhol’s Oxidation Paintings (1977–78), his playful commentary on abstract expressionism spoken in splatters of urine, but Wang’s work is not tongue-in-cheek. The copper is an organism adapting and reinventing itself in this ever-changing milieu. It is safe to say that change in these works is key. In another visually striking piece, a cluster of fossilized clamshells gilded in silver is arranged in an amoeba-like pattern on the floor. It is impossible not to notice the lustre of the silver fading, untouched but unprotected and thus subject to tarnish and decay. Over time, the fossils will eventually turn black. While each has a fierce presence, each is also a chrysalis waiting to reveal some new form.
There are two pieces that assert themselves more than others: the first, a triangular wedge of beeswax and water vapour, and the second, a towering slab of beeswax with a hole lined in silver. The triangular wedge, connected to the wall by an electrical cord, has dozens of perforations laid out in a symmetrical pattern from which a fog of vapour emerges. For a moment, the vapour is suspended, and then falls over the sides and disappears. The wedge is small but is just as imposing as the tall slab of beeswax, also tethered to the wall by an electrical cord, which emanates a mechanical whirling sound but seems to do nothing in particular, either cooling or melting the piece, or perhaps concealing some secret labour. The beeswax constructions feel meditative but refuse the spiritualism of aesthetically similar works by artists like Wolfgang Laib, which are not about the substances themselves but the way substances are taken up as a symbol by both artist and viewer. Wang instead exposes the ontology of substance brought forth through the techne of form. The wedge exhales vapours and the slab hums with inner life. Alice Wang produces works that are animated by their own chemistries and that enfold their surroundings. These are works that transform and mutate; metamorphic works that respond to the worlds they encounter to become something new.
Translation - Chinese 关于王凝慧在胶囊上海的个展，最引人注目的的一点就是她的作品与空间的微妙结合。胶囊上海是一个展览空间与艺术实验室结合的画廊，由意大利建筑师Nunzia Carbone（侬青女士）改造设计而成，位于一个从1930年代起就存在的茂盛园亭里。画廊静默不语，藏身于一条弯弯曲曲的小巷尽头，整个空间被光线填满，巨大的格子窗把户外绿地与内部空间连接起来。画廊与周围的郊区环境有一种互相渗透的关系，王凝慧的作品似乎形塑了这个空间的特点。
Working on translation for more than three years, mainly including literatures, legal contracts and business plans.I translated an English novel into Chinese and the book became a best seller when it was published in China last year.
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