There was a school of philosophy in ancient China whose core theory stems from a debate entitled “A White Horse Is Not a Horse.” In a book by Gongsun Long (公孫龍 320-250BC, about 200 years after Confucius) in the Warring States Period, two persons argue if a white horse is a horse: the protagonist argues it is not, because ‘white’ is the color of a (particular) horse while a ‘horse’ is a shape and a generic term. It’s a linguistic/logical paradox, or sophistry. Ridiculed by his contemporary philosophers and forgotten for centuries, Gongsun is now considered the only philosopher in ancient China who delved into logic and philosophy of language. I was about 12 when my artist father first told me about the debate. He’s painted many horses, especially white horses. Long before I discovered I’m a Mongol, I had always loved horses. Funny, my high school politics (Maoism/Marxism) teacher nicknamed me “Wild Horse Running off the Reins.” That’s how I see myself when playing music.
Music offers instant and countless ways of freeing myself and connecting with people and the multiverse. It’s my sanctuary and path to the unknown. At jams and gigs. I discovered that improv is human nature, and in my nature. It’s all about following the qi, the energy, the flow. It’s like cooking or making love, with senses and feelings all out in the open, without thinking. Improvising in a group is the most democratic activity. And all sounds are equal — from birds, traffic, construction, the ocean, kids — all music to my ear. All instruments are my toys (some are indeed my daughter’s toys). For every instrument I play, I feel the physical and spiritual connections with them. Ask not what your instrument can do for you, ask what you can do for your instrument. I look for the sounds that an instrument isn’t ‘supposed’ to make. Music is the most abstract art form and the closest to the truth, yet it’s the most institutionalized.
My slogan is “Learn through play. Play by ear. Fuck the rest!” So here it is, just some Weird Shit, music that is not music. A white horse is not a horse.—Rose Tang
This album exists because Rose Tang is remarkable and because of Patrick Golden’s combination of responsiveness and openness to Tang’s uniqueness. Golden is a superbly talented drummer who listens and responds, who leads and follows according to the evolving situation in such a way that it becomes neither leading nor following but, rather, an instant synergy. Tang arrived on the NYC free-improvisation scene a musical tabula rasa, immersed herself in it, and pulled herself up by her bootstraps within a few years. With the freshness of invention that comes from not having become inhibited and habituated by academic training, she feels free to use instruments unfettered by such mundane expectations as “you should tune your guitar”—leaving hers deliberately untuned, she deploys it as a noise-making machine. The only genre she tags herself with is Weird Shit, with gestural shaping of pure sound her mode of organization. One afternoon in the studio was all it took to create the music on this album.—Steve Holtje, producer for ESP-Disk’
