Hong Kong Chinese Orchestra | Tang Capriccio |Hugo | China

I'll admit it. I always judge a CD by its cover. The first thing I do when I get a new CD is scrutinize the cover art, skim through the liner notes, pop the disc in the changer, and settle back to see if my shamelessly biased expectations are fulfilled.

As far as first, pre-aural impressions go, Tang Capriccio: Chinese Orchestral Works by Hong Kong Composers has very little to offer. The cover features a prosaic, penguin-suited orchestra, superimposed over a neon-lit Hong Kong skyline. The track titles are a little more interesting-there are picturesque names like "the Drunken Monk's Note" and "Song of Bliss," as well as obscure titles like "Undefined" and "Blankness." Still, I was skeptical. Overly romantic orchestral swells with East Asian overtones? I wasn't that excited, but felt that it was my duty to confirm the worst.

Not long into the title track, I snatched up the CD cover again and stared long and hard. I couldn't really make out from the jacket photo what the instruments look like, so I was left to imagine a fantastic orchestra consisting of bizarre contraptions, sheet metal, shattered glass, ancient strings and strange captive animals. The imagery of the music was so vivid and tangible that at the end of the CD, I sat up with the dazed feeling that I had just returned from some long, bizarre journey.

Tang Capriccio is one of three CDs showcasing original works by Hong Kong composers. This particular CD focuses on compositions largely inspired by traditional Chinese music, performed on original and modernized Chinese instruments. There are five composers featured on the album, and while their styles range from playful to desolate, each piece manages to engage the listener in an almost visceral way.

By far, my favorite work was Ng Taki-Kong's Chance Encounter. The first movement, "Undefined," opens with a barely perceptible drone and an icy skittering of metal, which gradually intensifies into an oncoming swarm of angry bees. This abstraction of sound characterizes the whole work, which is as gripping as a psychological thriller. In the third movement, Ng throws in a few cartoonish, Western saloon-like references, but even with these touches, the work remains both terrifying and strangely beautiful.

Tang Capriccio is a wonderful example of what is possible when composers push beyond the limits of traditional instrumentation and really experiment with sound and silence. Not afraid of simplicity, the composers often strip a tone down to its very texture, creating a listening experience that is as emotionally engaging as going to the movies.