【En route】 Vol. 1｜Between Mountain and Sea, Becoming Ourselves
- Mar 13
- 9 min read
by Rita Kuo
Post-editing by Njål Homeyer
Photography by Chen Wei-Chih, Chen Yu-Chung,
Photo courtesy of WhARTS Ltd.
I hope not only to become a better musician, but also to become the person I truly want to be. —— Pipa player Su Yun-Han
Sometimes a concert is more than a performance—it’s an encounter.
Two people who first met as strangers, yet connected through music and found resonance in sound.
Pipa player Su Yun-Han 蘇筠涵 and gayageum player Seo Jungmin 서정민, hailing from Taiwan and South Korea respectively, perform on traditional instruments deeply intertwined with their personal and cultural upbringings.
Though shaped by different cultures and life experiences, their artistic impulse is the same: to honour tradition and embrace innovation.
A Boundless Two-Year Journey
Yun-Han and Jungmin’s paths first converged in early 2024, at first, only through a series of emails. Before long, they decided to collaborate, travelling back and forth between South Korea and Taiwan.
With each meeting, they shared more of their life stories, gradually learning to speak to one another through music.
After nearly two years of creation and reflection, their creative endeavour came to fruition in a performance in Taipei in November 2025: Boundless.
The concert took audience members on a journey through traditional melodies. What initially seemed to be a performance with clear boundaries gradually revealed itself to be anything but confined. The concert was not only a cross-cultural collaboration but also a milestone in their personal and artistic journeys.
‘I wanted the concert to create an atmosphere where the audience could naturally immerse themselves, like embarking on a journey of sound,’ Yun-Han explains.
Rather than adopting the typical ‘don’t disturb the performers’ approach, she sought to cultivate a space where the audience’s experience was never disrupted, allowing imagination to unfold within the dialogue between pipa and gayageum.
The uninterrupted one-hour format enabled Yun-Han and Jungmin to attune themselves to every breath in the space. Following the musical flow, they traced their own emotional landscapes, presenting glimpses of their lived experiences through the voices of the pipa and gayageum.
‘Travel allows you to see who you are,’ someone once said.
Sometimes we need to see ourselves through another’s eyes in order to recognise the invaluable qualities we might otherwise take for granted.
Boundless became a dialogue between two women on a shared journey—one that began in the mountains and seas that shaped them.
Mountains and Seas That Nurtured Them
Jungmin first visited Taiwan in 2017 and again in 2022 for artist residencies. During these visits, she was struck by the similarities between Taiwan and South Korea: both are mountainous countries surrounded by the sea. It was only natural, then, that mountains and seas would become central motifs in her collaboration with Yun-Han.
‘I love both mountains and the sea, but I love mountains a bit more,’ Jungmin laughs.
Walking through mountains allows her to calm down. Surrounded by shifting scenery, wind and birdsong, she finds herself listening more closely, not only to nature, but to her own inner voice. For her, it’s a form of self-restoration.
Whenever she’s in Taiwan, she especially appreciates the warmth of the people (and peanut tangyuan, a dessert from the night market). Yet it is the mountains that have left the deepest impression on her.
In Alishan, a high-altitude region in central Taiwan, she saw trees taller than any she might find on South Korea’s mountains. Gazing up at those towering giants, she felt held in nature’s gentle embrace. On her morning walks, sunlight shimmered through branches and leaves to the accompaniment of birds’ chittering. Each tree seemed to carry its own voice—a silent symphony woven from scent, light and shadow. The memory remains deeply etched in her.
Jungmin says her creative inspiration grows out of lived experience. Such landscapes, like the ones she has seen in Taiwan, have naturally become part of the fabric of her music.
‘If you listen carefully, you can hear your own rhythms and melodies within the scenery.’
Yun-Han was born and raised in the coastal city of Kaohsiung in southern Taiwan.
For her, it is the sea—rather than the mountains—that holds a special place. The sound of waves has always felt grounding to her, opening her senses and allowing her to connect with her inner self.
Through her travels to South Korea to collaborate with Jungmin, she too has come to deeply appreciate the mountains there. In July 2025, they journeyed to the region around Gwangju—Jungmin’s hometown—in the south of the country. Surrounded by mountains on all sides, she recalls vividly: ‘It felt like being embraced by them.’
The experience contrasted sharply with Taiwan’s geography, where the Central Mountain Range rises along the island’s spine from south to north. When you are on the west side of the island, you see the eastern side of the range; on the east coast, you see its western face. These spatial differences between Taiwan and South Korea left a profound impression on her.
‘Sometimes I mimic sounds I’ve heard in nature in my playing, almost as if recording them through music.’
Like Jungmin, Yun-Han draws inspiration from natural landscapes. She often tries to translate the feel of a place into music. Whether listening to the waves at Qixingtan Beach on Taiwan’s east coast or feeling the thrill of climbing the north peak of Mount Hehuan (Hehuanshan), such experiences gradually transform into musical language.
It’s precisely such encounters with mountains and seas in their everyday lives that inspire their musical imagination.
Creating Music as a Bridge
When asked about the turning point behind her creative work, Yun-Han explains that it grew out of her deepening understanding of traditional pipa practice and reflection on it.
She notes that traditional pipa music was historically notated using gongche notation, which records only the melodic contour and structural framework. In other words, the music was never fully written out; space was intentionally left for performers to contribute their own interpretations and ideas, adding a personal touch to each piece.
As her musical journey progressed and her technique continued to mature, she found herself repeatedly asking: ‘Is this really enough? As a musician, what do I want to express through my music?’
She recalls her former teacher once telling her, ‘A musician must be able to express themselves through music and develop their own perspective on a piece.’ Inspired by these words, Yun-Han began composing her own works and collaborating with musicians from Korea, Japan, and the West, exploring improvisation and broadening both her artistic perspective and her modes of expression.
Jungmin, likewise, sees musical creation as a bridge for conveying ideas.
She recalls that when she decided, as a child, to devote herself to the gayageum, her father told her, ‘If you wish to continue learning, you must use the gayageum to create music that belongs to you.’ Those words planted a seed of creativity in her heart.
It was not until university that she attempted composition in class. Her first piece caught her professor’s attention. After her graduation, he invited her to collaborate. That invitation prompted her to seriously consider becoming a composer, and later set her firmly on the path of composition.
Having long explored the relationship between art and society, Jungmin believes that musicians are deeply connected to the world around them. She has realised that, in an age when the pace of life grows ever faster, people need art more than ever. And so she began to ask herself: as a musician, what can I offer the world?
‘I hope that through my work, I can bring a sense of encouragement and strength to listeners and society.’
Improvisation: Discovering Each Other
Improvisation is like a conversation: each response carries the music forward, step by step.
Jungmin shares that when they compose or improvise together, Yun-Han’s responses often surpass her expectations. Through the music, she comes to know her more deeply, discovering her vivid imagination and creativity. For instance, when Jungmin plays a melodic line or unfolds a dramatic passage, Yun-Han responds on the pipa in a kindred musical language, forming a natural dialogue.
‘Though these are two traditional instruments from different countries, they share a similar soul.’ Jungmin says.
Much like the unexpectedly seamless fusion of the pipa and the gayageum, she and Yun-Han communicate with remarkable fluidity in music, despite their different cultural backgrounds. This connection inspires her to commit fully to each performance, supporting and sustaining one another’s sound.
She adds, ‘For me, what matters most is this: first, become a good person; second, become a good musician.’
Improvisation, however, is shaped not only by interaction with one’s partner but also by the atmosphere of the space itself. She explains that if the audience seems shy or relaxed, she may introduce quicker tempi or more tense harmonies to kindle energy; if she senses the audience’s energy is low or overly heightened, she will choose gentler melodies and a slower pace, guiding the overall mood back towards balance.
Although Yun-Han can now improvise freely, she actually spent nearly eight years developing this skill.
Since childhood, she had only learned to play from a score, so when she first began stepping away from sheet music, she felt a deep sense of fear.
‘Even though I knew my instrument so well, suddenly I couldn’t play.’
Through collaborations with musicians from different backgrounds, she learned how some musicians regard improvisation—playing freely and responding intuitively to each other—as a natural language of music. She, too, longed to interact with others in this way. Whenever friends invited her to improvise, she would almost always accept, deliberately placing herself in situations where she could learn. In this way, by observing and learning from others, she gradually developed her own voice.
Later, working with Jungmin, the two brought their rich musical traditions to a new meeting point. Yun-Han notes that the rhythms of Korean traditional music differ markedly from those of Taiwanese traditional music. Influenced by Han culture, Taiwanese music often follows duple or quadruple patterns, whereas Korean traditional music frequently features long–short rhythmic variations. These contrasts stand out to her vividly, and over time her breathing and phrasing—whether in improvisation or composition—have begun to carry traces of Korean musical influence. It was in performance that these years of exploration became most visible.
After their performance Boundless concluded, many audience members expressed their amazement at how naturally Yun-Han and Jungmin’s instruments complemented one another: the gayageum with its wide chromatic range—extending even lower than the Chinese guzheng—and warm-sounding silk strings, paired with the modern pipa’s nylon-wrapped steel strings, create an enveloping yet balanced texture.
The entire improvisation felt like a creative process unfolding live before the audience. The mutual inspiration and dialogue they experienced made their collaboration profoundly rewarding: through each other’s sound, they were able to perceive both their own and one another’s unique musical identities more clearly.
Honesty: Approaching Oneself
Through collaboration, they discover their unique selves, and by approaching music with honesty, their inner voices grow clearer.
‘Now I’m learning to live each day fully,’ Jungmin says.
She tries to make the most of each day, no longer allowing life to become overly busy, but instead moving at her own pace—living, creating, performing, and teaching.
This gentler approach has given her more energy and space to reflect on her inner world and to understand her life from a different perspective.
From traditional to contemporary music, from composition to improvisation, her work traces bold steps of exploration along a challenging journey. Through her music, she hopes to share life’s tenderness and vitality with those around her.
To create music that truly touches others, a musician must establish a sincere connection with the world.
‘Because some things can only be expressed through music,’ she says.
For Yun-Han, music is now as essential as water.
Yet, there was a time when she stepped away from a music-centred environment.
After completing music talent programs from primary school through high school, she chose to pursue a degree in English literature at National Chengchi University.
Reflecting on those four years, she says:
‘It was a unique and irreplaceable experience. It helped me rediscover my passion for the pipa.’
Throughout those years in academia, she repeatedly asked herself: ‘Do I truly love the pipa? Am I happy when I perform? Would I continue even without the motivation of achieving high grades and awards?’
In the course of this self-inquiry, she recalled the joy she felt the first time she played the pipa, and the sense of achievement she felt at completing her very first piece.
‘Even if I occasionally put the pipa down, there has always been a kind of magic that brings me back to it.’
Eventually, Yun-Han returned to music. This time, it was with a fuller sense of self, knowing it was an intentional choice shaped by reflection and exploration.
Moving between traditional and contemporary music, and experimenting across a variety of musical contexts over the past few years, she has learned that there is no single ‘correct’ answer in music, nor any need to confine oneself within a label. What matters is meeting oneself honestly in every performance.
‘I hope not only to become a better musician, but also to become the person I truly want to be—rooted in tradition, yet open to new perspectives and possibilities through collaboration and exchange.’
Perhaps this is why we choose the path of music: not to define ourselves by grades and achievements, but to see where music might lead.
This pursuit of authenticity resonates both with Jungmin and Yun-Han.
They are grounded in their respective musical traditions, yet not constrained by them. They move fluidly between different soundscapes and cultural landscapes, while always remaining true to themselves.
Between mountains and seas, in creation and exchange, they meet through music—and leave space for becoming.
Because they know:
‘Honesty is the path back to oneself.’
Boundless: Pipa × Gayageum
Date｜2025.11.28 Fri. 19:30
Venue｜Forum Music Auditorium
Performers｜Su Yunhan, Seo Jungmin
Production Coordinator｜Chang Yingchen
Promotion｜Chang Yenlun
Stage Manager｜Chen Yuchung
Lighting Design｜Su Chuanwei
Lighting Assistant｜Lin Jhenyu
Lighting Gear｜LAIXIN CO., Ltd.
Graphic Design｜IIINNG Studio
Front Desk Crew ｜Chen Jiayun, Liao Chenyu
Photography｜Chen Weichi
Videography｜Hsieh Chiachi, Chang Linchun
Recording Engineer｜Lin Jiashing/ Yun-Xiang Science and Technology Co., Ltd.
Presenter｜Su Yunhan
Co-organizer｜WhARTS Ltd.
Sponsor｜Department of Cultural Affairs, Taipei City Government
Special Thanks｜Prof. Li Chinghui, Lin’s Culture
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