12) Music Man

A civil engineer, a musician, an instrument maker, an instrument visionary, an artisan who, through trial and era, has spent the last 35 years making replicas of Tang dynasty instruments down to the mother of pearl embossed ornamentation. All this from the tiny workshop that sits behind his cluttered livingroom; all this on the 23rd floor of an apartment building that overlooks the ocean.

The truly brilliant are indeed the most modest. As the interview unravelled, hour after hour, the boundaries of his limitations expanded to such a degree that I was convinced there was nothing he could not accomplish, short of self-levitation, and even then, I am not sure as I never asked. He plays all the instruments in the orchestra - he is self taught.

He begins to play them, one after another, matching the authentic replica instrument and song. "This one was played in 200 BC, in the afternoons. Most likely in the gardens . . ." And then he picks up the modern version, and plays a 1970s theme song to a Cantonese soap opera, describing the differences in woods, in size, in technique. He has started becoming involved in moving towards eco-instruments, substituting synthetic compunds for python skins. He is altering the sound, yet preserving the music, making it relevant for contemporary society. Such eco-friendly measures will save 50 000 pythons every year, and now as an illegal material to traffick internationally, China may now continue to produce instruments to be exported to other Asia Pacific nations, and to the West.

And sadly, he has no apprentice. No one with his skills has yet come along, willing to devote their lives to such an obscure profession, and without passing on his knowledge, the craft may eventually die out.

Throughout the hours, the teapot never ran empty, and he boiled water continuously on a little table-top stove. The water, he poured into a large cup, and sifting out the tea leaves with a saucer, filled our mugs again, and again. He smoked continuously, switching been pulls of a cigarette and puffs on his pipe. He took drags from his cigarette and then let it droop from the corner of his mouth and burn til the ashes fell upon his lap, yet he continued to play undisturbed. He is a truly remarkable man, and I am humbled to have met him.