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Whoa. Few places, especially any as vaguely defined as "The Silk Road," are as steeped in picturesque myth as this collection of ancient trade routes from the Far East to Europe. Dusty trails, smelly camels, dangerous bandits, treacherous mountain passes - it just doesn't get any better than this.
I love music that evokes visions of places, and I have long enjoyed Alexander Borodin's marvelous "In the Steppes of Central Asia" for its European-oriented musical image of the route. Now, with the Silk Road Project (www.silkroadproject.org), cellist Yo-Yo Ma and his ensemble give us the Asian translation, which is closer to the source. The Project, on tour with an eclectic mix of musicians from East and West, performed a collection of new and traditional works from as far as China and as near as France. Any yoga instructor will tell you that stretching, while sometimes uncomfortable, is very good for you. Tonight's performance was musical yoga.
Ever been to Mongolia? Me neither, but I've seen pictures. Containing endless rolling grasslands and the vast Gobi Desert, this place makes Montana's sky look small. Tonight's first piece, 'The Legend of Herlen', was a sort of tone poem about that country's Herlen River. Sparse and airy, it featured Yo-Yo Ma himself on a Mongolian morin khuur, or "horse-head fiddle." (In case you were picturing something grotesque, the instrument is named for the carved-wood horse's head atop the fiddle's neck.) Played upright like a cello, it sounds less sweet than its European descendant, and somehow more rustic and "country." Also featured was the "long song" vocalizing of Khongorzul, from Mongolia's capital Ulaan Baatar. Taking in deep breaths, she would project long, fluttering phrases that sounded like they actually could carry all the way across the Gobi - from Las Vegas, yet. Written by Byambasuren Sharav, this atmospheric work could be considered Mongolian "new age" music if it didn't sound so ancient and wise.
Next up was a solo  performance by Wu Man (that's her name, not just her gender) on a pipa, a lute-like stringed instrument from China. She played a traditional song that constantly shifted in tempo and intensity. The sound of the instrument changed as well: one minute it rang melodically like a mandolin; then she would pluck it quietly like a harp; and occasionally she would thrash furiously like Pete Townsend torturing his guitar at the end of a Who concert. Until she played sustained notes with vibrato in them, my ears couldn't identify the sound as distinctively Chinese, so broad was the range of tone and mood achieved by the player.
Did I mention there were danger and conflict on the Silk Road? The next modern piece, 'Blue as the Turquoise Night of Neyshabur', by Iranian composer Kayhan Kalhor, featured several traditional instruments from Persia and India. These, however, were utterly drowned out by the violins, violas, cellos, and contrabass - as if Asia were being warned never to get into a land war in Europe. The kemancheh, or "spike fiddle," from Iran and the Caucasus region, sounds somewhat tinnier than a violin and more - well, old. Its mournful sweetness couldn't be heard except during solos.
 The ney, a Middle Eastern flute of bamboo, wood, or metal, made such a delicate sound that I never once heard its tones during this piece. I did, however, hear an odd rasping, like the rapid shaking of a small bag of seashells, that I later determined to be emanating from this instrument underneath the notes.
The wonderfully melodic santur, an Iranian zither whose many strings are struck using tiny hammers, was audible but seemed to be used as a mere garnish to the main music. I would love to have heard more of it.
 The Indian tabla, small drums like tom-toms, were easy to hear and provided just the right amount of percussion in the piece. Despite the imbalances, the sedate, rhythmic music succeeded wonderfully in its intention to evoke images of the last part of a quiet Persian night, just before dawn. I pictured the good citizens of Neyshabur turning in their sleep, now gently, now fitfully, as they dreamed - probably about whipping the Europeans in a land war.
After intermission, the players of the kemancheh, ney, and santur returned for a traditional Persian tune. Now I can hear them! This unstructured piece meandered like a sedate jam session, and I wondered how on earth the musicians could have memorized it.
 Next came Claude Debussy's 'Sonata in D Minor for Cello', with Yo-Yo Ma accompanied on piano. Debussy was reportedly heavily influenced by Eastern music, but I honestly couldn't tell; in this work he seemed to have been influenced by something in his mushrooms. Dour and odd, the music reminded me of viewing modern art on a rainy day. I much preferred the elegant Rachmaninoff sonata played last week by Grace Lin and Alexei Podkorytov (see the feature on the Cartier Connoisseur Soirée). However, it was fun watching tonight's cellist and pianist play together, frequently leaning toward each other as if one were helping to play the other's instrument by remote control.
 The final piece, 'Tarang', composed by the ensemble's tabla player, Sandeep Das, was intended to depict a diverse group of Silk Road traders coming together at the end of the working day, drawing out their various instruments, and playing a happy little jam session. These merchants must have had an awful Christmas season, however, because the music sounded more somber than joyful. Moreover, there is a problem inherent in jam sessions: in order to be played together spontaneously, without a lot of rehearsal, the music is repetitive, and the parts neither clash nor really fit with one another. It sounded nice for the first few minutes but soon grew tedious. Given the tremendous talent of the musicians and the full house of appreciative listeners, it was a bit disappointing. It seemed as if neither group was being particularly challenged in this case.
 The Silk Road Project, like a good yoga session, is healthy, exotic, and instructive, but is not always easy or even pleasant. Of course, what do I know? I avoid yoga like the Asiatic flu, and I grew up on a farm, listening to Marty Robbins and Roger Miller. Hey, that's it - the Dirt Road Project! - For more on The Silk Road Project go to www.silkroadproject.com
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Reviewed October 30, 2002 at Artemus W. Ham Concert Hall, Las Vegas, by Robert LaGrone, Las Vegas Jetsetters Magazine Entertainment Writer.
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