The Silicon Island

The Silicon Island Septet narrates the 400-year journey of the Taiwanese identity. The entire piece is structured in three movements, each representing a distinct phase of the journey: contact, clash, and fusion.

The first movement begins with the voyage of early Chinese settlers, navigating the boundless, misty waters off the coast of Tayouan (modern-day Tainan) four hundred years ago. Owens Huang skillfully uses perfect fourths and fifths to immerse the audience, evoking the feeling of uncertainty about their own future and the uncharted land ahead. What drove these pioneers away from the comfort of their homes and set them on a quest of certain death across the turbulent Taiwan Strait? The answer to that question lies at the end of the musical journey that Owens Huang masterfully crafts for the audience. As the Chinese pioneers emerge from the fog, the music gradually transitions to fifth and octave intervals, symbolizing a moment of long-awaited, anchored clarity. Unfolding in front of them are the most astounding sights – the indigenous people of Taiwan.

The popular Amis tune – Elders Drinking Song – serves as the motif for indigenous people throughout the movement. The light-hearted yet deeply spiritual song is a reminder of how they, as the earliest inhabitants of this land, have established rooted connections with their ancestral lands and long come to peace and harmony with nature. In contrast to the anxiety and uncertainty of the Chinese pioneers, this section employs rich counterpoint techniques to reflect the call-and-response nature of indigenous voices through forests and river valleys. The notes convey a sense of confidence and joy of indigenous peoples grounded in their unity with nature.

In the final section of this movement, the music gradually incorporates the traditional Chinese pentatonic scale, and the harmonic lines become increasingly clear. The cello, played with a clever pizzicato technique, produces a tone as elegant as the guzheng, depicting the historical period when the Qing Empire established formal governance in Taiwan.

This movement embodies the first encounters among various civilizations. Although they are far from the so-called melting pot, they have found ways to coexist. Their interactions are marked by a cautious harmony, a blend of tentative exploration and hesitation as they navigate their newfound relationship. The movement then culminated in the First Sino-Japanese War, which was the inflection point. The once balanced and peaceful pentatonic scale is disrupted by the urgent and discordant Japanese Hirajoshi scale, breaking the previous tranquility and leading us into the turbulent second movement.

The second movement is where Owens Huang unleashes his most intense emotions about the Taiwanese people. He reaches deeply into the most polarizing and darkest aspect of Taiwanese history: "ethnic clash." The movement begins with a flute solo introducing a distinct Japanese melody, complemented by pizzicato violin sounds, as if the Taiwanese people are cautiously tiptoeing around the new Japanese colonial administration. The subsequent dialogues and ensemble of various parts then immerse the audience in the sorrow of a confusing era, introducing Taiwanese people’s rootless yearning for an identity that has not surfaced. Furthermore, the society is now transitioning from an untamed frontier to a rigorous modern industrial landscape, intensifying the pressure of assimilation among once harmonious ethnic groups.

The second movement reaches its climax with the onset of the Second Sino-Japanese War. Represented by dense musical notes, the blended emotions of helplessness, anxiety, and anger commonly found in the wartime era, are now permeating in every corner of society and eroding the soul of every Taiwanese and mainland Chinese, who will soon become the new members of the community after the fall of China in 1949. Throughout nearly twenty measures of intense musical outburst, a myriad of instruments intertwine, articulating a complex tapestry of negative emotions— the high-pitched violin symbolizes the tension and chaos of war; the poignant and melodious viola conveys feelings of sadness and helplessness, and the deep, resonant cello reveals the oppression of the era.

What awaits Taiwanese people at the conclusion of the Second World War is not rebirth but yet another identity crisis. Under the new fascist regime, all groups – the indigenous people, early pioneers, and new Chinese immigrants – endure their own unique and equally profound torments. In this shared traumatic historical memory, the various musical parts express a seemingly reluctant harmony as a new common identity is being forced upon them under the regime’s nationalistic policy overtone. This complex emotion is brought to a close at the end of the movement with diverse polychords, concluding in a sense of discomfort and tension.

In contrast to the sorrowful second movement, the third movement opens with a jubilant pentatonic scale, instantly bringing an overwhelming sense of joy to the audience. The emotional disconnect from the second to the third movement symbolizes the cognitive dissonance commonly found in the populace. Taiwanese are basked in the Cold War economic boom while choosing to ignore the psychological imprisonment and unresolved historical trauma, exerting a superficial and palatable sense of confidence.

Midway through this movement, Owens Huang revisits the various themes introduced earlier, as if reweaving the threads of Taiwan's history through the notes. By confronting the darkest past, the Taiwanese people eventually find spiritual redemption. From the lifting of the 38-year-long martial law to transitional justice and advocating civil rights for all groups, this seemingly uncomfortable reckoning ultimately solidifies the Taiwanese people's commitment to their shared values.

As a fund manager, Owens Huang uses the third movement to musically convey to the world why Taiwan is worth investing in. Against the backdrop of U.S.-China geopolitical tensions, Taiwan finds opportunities amid crises. The robust semiconductor and hardware supply chain built over the past few decades is now poised to drive the global AI technology revolution. From his vantage point in Silicon Valley, Owens Huang, with his deep understanding and insight into the technology industry, optimistically and clearly depicts Taiwan's transformation into a pivotal Silicon Island with immense potential.

The solemn melodies from the second movement now transcend into joyful and confident tones. Memories of past grievances, ignorance, and conflicts now meld in the crucible of music, forging the resilience of the Taiwanese nation—a people once tempered by history’s fires, emerging with a gleaming strength that ushers in the dawn of a new era on Silicon Island.

Composer: Owens Huang

Flute: Ann Kuo

Violin: Lucy Lu

Violin: Hsuan-Hao Hsu

Viola: Hsuan-Min Chang

Viola: Chieh-Yu Lin

Cello: Allen Liang

Cello: Tzu-Wei Jack Huang

This content is written by the No-Filter Generalist