Chi Gold Dragon and the Sound of the Cello

A couple years ago, as I was crossing New York’s Central Park, I was drawn to the sound of a cello echoing in the air amidst the clamor of my frenetic city. Disregarding the GPS commands on my phone directing me back to the E train, I followed the sound, and came upon one of the park’s walkable tunnels which offered up its haunting echo. There sat a young woman totally absorbed in a classic composition, namely Bach Cello Suite #1 in G, a skilled hand caressing the bow across the strings, a cascade of arpeggios, producing sounds as if a waterfall were splashing within her, a gentle vibrato, her own optimism channeled through the music.

Chi playing her cello. Courtesy of Chi Gold Dragon

Next to her chair was a placard that read “Chi Lennon” and an open cello case for donations. Knowing I had to get back home, I figured the bread crumb trail we call the Internet would ensure our paths would cross again. So, through Instagram, after nearly two years, my quiet “likes” turned into comments of praise, and before I knew it, Chi had invited me to hear her play at Uzuki restaurant in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.

 Against the backdrop of a Harley Davidson motorcycle and a wall adorned with event posters from the past, Chi set up her cello and proceeded to bring music and elegance to life through carved wood and horsehair. The diners throughout the space turned their heads, the wait staff kept the clinking of the dishes to a minimum, and Chi’s small audience considered themselves lucky to be so entertained in this intimate space.

Uzuki Restaurant, Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Courtesy of Michael Alpiner

I ordered a Matcha tea for her, one of the restaurant’s specialties. After the set, Chi and I sat down to eat, small bites of traditional Japanese vegetable dishes, and we talked about the creative spirit, my own writing as well as her multifaceted disciplines. She is an artist as well as a musician, thus Uzuki restaurant seemed the perfect backdrop for our first sit down conversation. At the rear of the restaurant, artisans offer pottery classes as the sound of running water and meditative music inspires the tactile creativity to flourish.

I asked Chi, “When did you start playing the cello?”

“Though most children in Japan begin playing an instrument around three to five years old, I began playing at nine after hearing Mischa Maisky play. I admired his sound and story.”

·       Side note – Mischa Maisky, born in Riga, Latvia in 1948. He was imprisoned for eighteen months by the Russians at the age of 22 for purchasing a tape recorder on the Black Market. After his release, Maisky emigrated to Israel.

After trying to not look awkward using chopsticks, I asked, “Was there someone who was an inspiration to you, musically?”

“A friend of my father introduced me to Hiroshi Kondo, chief cellist of the Osaka Philharmonic Orchestra. He also taught students, but only those with serious talent. I did audition for him, and he was impressed with my abilities.”

“Did you continue your study of the cello in high school?”

“Well, I attended Fukushima Prefecture High School, one of the top schools in Japan. My audition to join their music program was a life-altering experience. During the audition, I felt like God was with me as I played.”

Chi Gold Dragon. Courtesy of IG golddragonchi

“Have you faced any obstacles along the way?”

“Of course. Some of the teachers in high school were bullies, and then there was the incident with my hand.”

“What happened to your hand?”

“During high school, I suffered a bad accident, compressed a nerve, and couldn’t feel my hand. This went on for a while, and in order to keep up in band, I strapped my bow onto my numb hand and managed to play my cello. Eventually, with physical therapy and medication, my hand returned to normal.”

After some moments of silence while we were eating our food (Chi shared some of her meal with me), I asked about the next leg of her journey.

“So, when did you come to New York?”

“I was in my 20s. After all my challenges, I didn’t want to play cello anymore. Then I recalled a fortune teller I met in Japan, who said he saw for me images of an arch and brick. I didn’t know what to make of that until I found myself walking in Central Park and came upon the very tunnel where you first heard me play. Arch and brick.”

“How do most people in the park react to hearing you play?

“Some just keep walking, some applaud, and others cry. These reactions are important to me, but the true reward is that playing in the park provides me with natural healing, and once again, God is there with me as I play.”

Chi and I finished our meals, and shared photos of our lives through the small screens of our phones. She showed me her artwork which included sculpture and sketches. I read her one of my poems.

Acclaimed cellist, Yo-Yo Ma once said, “There are limits to how much sound a cello can make.” However, through her dedication, studies, faith, and the acoustics of the brick tunnel in Central Park, Chi is constantly pushing those limits.