We observe in old Chinese illustrations of the instrument that, for the time of playing, the Ch’in is placed upon a table, which it overlays, so that the tassels hang down. The instrument is not allowed to touch the table, but is supported on two soft pad rolls, so that no resonance may be communicated or be enhanced by contact with its surface. It is very remarkable, this layer of cork lining the upper surface, for I have never seen it mentioned that such was the construction. My usual curiosity prompted me to place my hand inside, and feel what the substance of the wood was, and by the yielding to the indentation of the finger nails I discovered that instead of being wood the material was cork; and a most admirable subduer it is. The consequence is that not only is the quality of tone most delicately soft, but it is devoid of that fringe of sound, that twang which accompanies the alliance of vibrations of wood with string when strings are plucked.
The case of my Ch’in has a painting in gold, showing ladies playing the Koto. They are in the open air, seated on the ground and evidently having a merry time. One lady is singing, another playing, another listening, and an attendant is handing cups of tea. I cannot tell how old this case is, but I see that the head dresses of two of the ladies are precisely in the same fashion as the hats trimmed here in London. Truly the world moves in circles, and old things become new.
On grand days at the Confucian festivals, six Ch’in are used at the ceremonies of the temple, three on the east side of the hall and three on the west.
The Ch’in, though very easily played, is nevertheless a difficult instrument to learn according to the Chinese requirements, long study being necessary to master all the subtle distinctions which determine how the strings should be sounded; whether for a particular note a string should be plucked to the right or to the left, and which strings are allowed to be sounded together; and quite a vocabulary of instructions to learn, in order to be accomplished in an elegant style after the dictation of the pedants and guardians of the laws.
The strings were in ancient times tuned
c——d——e——g——a——c——d
They are said to be in the present day tuned
g——a——c——d——e——g——a
Whatever the tension of the strings, the little inlaid nacre studs serve to indicate the relative divisions. They guide the player but do not restrict him; since, if a string gets slack he can judge by ear how much difference to make in distance,—thus shortening the sounding length in order to obtain the pitch required for conformity to the other strings. Also a firmer pressure on the string will raise the pitch, and the practice is resorted to by the player as an embellishment often desirable.
The strings are of silk, and are set at very low tension, and are merely pulled by the hand up to pitch and tied with an ordinary knot on to two pegs at the back on the left hand, four grouped to one peg and three to the other,—most primitive, but apparently quite satisfactory. On the right hand the strings are knotted on to thick green silk cords, each cord being threaded through a little drilled cylinder of wood in a manner effectually preventing slip. Each of these little drilled stems carries a scarlet silk tassel thirteen inches long. Consequently these little ornamental cylinders serve as hitch pins for the strings; the strings are first drawn, tightly bearing on these when set for playing, yet slack as regards tuning, and in that state may be left when unused, just as a violin needs to have its strings slackened when out of immediate use. Then each string is brought to tune by ear, the cylinder being pressed down to a right angle, at which it stays, clipping the string downwards a quarter of an inch, and thus increasing the tension to the degree that practice has determined to be required for playing. After playing, the cylinder can be tipped back to the slack position. Simple and ingenious, since silk strings, although waxed are, like those of gut, affected by atmospheric changes, against which some provision has to be made.