(This article originally appeared in the July, 2005 issue of the San Diego Troubadour–www.sandiegotroubadour.com)

Jane Lui: An Artist Emerges

by Simeon Flick

Behind every artist lies a sensitive disposition and an amalgam of people, events and circumstances that comprise the crucible in which the artist eventually finds and fulfils their creative destiny. It is a simple concoction with a complex list of ingredients that catalyze an often inexplicable reaction, the results of which are not always explosive, but invariably intense. Some artists take years to mature, often doing their best work later in life; others seem to spring out of nowhere almost fully formed and begin to create vital art at a relatively young age. Jane Lui, an example of the latter, has barely left the last booster stage of her formative years behind her and has already reaped the first fruits of her musical harvest.

'Teargirl' is the name of Lui's debut (reviewed in this issue), and it is rife with the tributary clues of the rich past that led to the ocean these ten songs comprise.

Lui's parents enjoyed the fine arts but weren't musically inclined themselves. Nevertheless, they catered to her latent creative proclivities and she subsequently became addicted to piano from the age of four onward (she's 26 now). She's been involved in choir since the third grade, and as a lonely child she utterly lionized Anita Mui, Hong Kong's answer to Madonna, from whom she vicariously gleaned the nuances of vibrato, tone and range. In college she majored in music education with an emphasis on voice, and the accompanying three years of vocal training tore down what she'd learned from Anita Mui and rebuilt her technique from the ground up.

'Teargirl' is resplendent with this formative erudition; the piano and vocals of each cut are as subtly virtuosic as they are unforced and unselfconscious, serving the songs most effectively. (This is also sagacious considering that as of yet Lui still performs by herself live.)

As with many creative types, Lui's sense of all-encompassing theatricality developed from her hyperactive imagination's efforts to relieve the ennui caused by the banalities of an often solitary daily life. She developed the ability to create extraordinary new worlds and fascinating characters based on random bits of otherwise uninteresting reality.

Many of the songs on the album were the result of Lui using a sliver of her reality as a metaphorical touchstone to discuss related issues, or as forays into imaginative fiction that tend to be centered around problematic characters. "Pigeon Woman" is based on someone she met overseas who religiously fed the pigeons in a certain square every day...Lui used the experience as a springboard to discuss the burdens of dogmatic commitment, writing in the voice of a cynic, teasing a nun who is a blind and avaricious follower. "Playing God" is an imaginary, confrontational conversation with a 9 year-old version of her father, from whom she has been estranged since her immigration to the U.S. "Freddie Goodtime" spun out of a bona fide, provocative letter she received by accident, addressed to someone else and answered by her poignant lyric; "Dear Fred/I think you got the wrong address/I'm so sorry, but an itch deserves a scratch/I see you're screaming at your halo, my cockroach sends his love." "Phaedon" is a fable about a fish and a bird lost in the pursuit of a seemingly incongruous love, and it explores the alternate lure of differences–as opposed to similarities–in love relationships.

Lui is a compelling mixture of East and West and a perpetual student of music who listens to and learns from many diverse genres. The immigration from Hong Kong changed everything; she went from a virtually monochromatic musical environment of dated, overwrought Asian kitsch to a new world of overwhelming, rainbow-like diversity. Her new reality filled up with pop, world, electronica, drum n' bass, opera, impressionistic classical music, catholic masses, blues and gospel; her new idols became Bjork, Tori Amos, Dave Matthews, Oasis, Sarah Mclachlan, Lisa Loeb and Toad The Wet Sprocket, among others.

Lui's immigration also marked an ideological shift from the strict traditionalism of Asian culture to the open-minded, often self-oriented interest in the American pursuit of happiness, honesty, and freedom of expression. It was this shift in ideology that led to the aforementioned break with and subsequent estrangement from her father, whom she hasn't seen or talked to since starting her new life here.

'Teargirl' bears album-wide evidence of this cultural admixture in that her Asian roots are conveyed through her use of a wide emotional range of vocal dynamics, and the music itself is principally American in timbre and instrumentation. However, in no other song is this East/West blend more evident than on the aforementioned "Phaedon," where a classical European harp plucks out a quintessentially Asian melody, and Lui sings in English what is in effect a brand new Chinese folk tale for the ages.

With 'Teargirl', Jane Lui has arrived as an artist who will surely produce a great body of work. But like any good artist she is intent on staying focused on being an effective channeler and nurturer of her art, and is anxious to progress to the next milestone in her artistic development. And like a true artist she will probably succeed in ways we can only imagine but she can already fathom.