【古殿唱片音樂故事】世界上最多人聽過的「梁祝」，是日本女性小提琴家拉的 vs　把西方小提琴作為二胡來演奏～～湯寶娣的「梁祝」

古殿殿主

如果有人問你：世界上最多人聽過的「梁祝」小提琴協奏曲，是誰演奏的？

大多數人的第一反應，大概是：「應該是中國人吧。」

答案卻是：一個名叫西崎崇子（Takako Nishizaki,1944-）的日本女性小提琴家。

她從1978年錄製第一張「梁祝」起，到後來在全球發行超過七次不同版本的「梁祝」錄音，其中多個版本的銷量以數百萬計。她是全球錄音史上與「梁祝」連結最深的演奏家，沒有之一。

一首中國人寫的曲子，卻是靠一個日本女性小提琴家，傳到了全世界。

這件事，當年是怎麼發生的？

但在說這個故事之前，先說一件更根本的事。

「梁祝」這首曲子的創作核心，從一開始就是：用西方的樂器與樂曲形式，演奏出中國戲曲與民族樂器的韻味。

這不是後人加上去的詮釋，而是作曲家何占豪與陳鋼當年的明確意圖。他們把越劇的唱腔旋律、二胡的滑音技法、京劇的節奏語感，全部移植進了西方奏鳴曲的結構裡。這首曲子的成敗，從來不是看小提琴技術有多精湛，而是看演奏者有沒有把那個「中國傳統的韻味」說出來。

是她先聽到了，然後主動找上了他

要理解這張唱片是怎麼誕生的，先要理解西崎崇子是什麼樣的人？

她不是一個普通的演奏者。她是當時日本最優秀的女性小提琴家之一，留學美國，在茱莉亞音樂學院完成最高程度的訓練，1964年參加列文特里特國際大賽獲得第二名——當年第一名，是後來成為世界最知名小提琴大師之一的伊扎克·帕爾曼（Itzhak Perlman,1945-）。這個比賽在那個年代幾乎是世界頂尖小提琴大師的養成所：1967年的第一名，是平卡斯·祖克曼（Pinchas Zukerman,1948-）與鄭京和並列。西崎崇子就在這個場域裡競爭，緊隨帕爾曼之後。這是她個人的成就，也是她整個家族傾力培養的成果。

1974年，她定居香港，遇見了德國商人克勞斯·海曼（Klaus Heymann,1936-）。當她決定嫁給他時，父親只提了一個條件：不能讓她停止演奏。這背後的意思很清楚——父親不願意看到她多年的積累與成就，就此消失在婚姻裡。

海曼承諾了。但承諾是一回事，真正的動力，從來都在西崎崇子自己身上。

1974年前後，她在香港接觸到一張唱片——1970年由林克昌親自小提琴獨奏並指揮香港交響樂團錄製的「梁祝」，1971年由香港樂城唱片出版(編號為：MUSIC CITY SR0-22)，1972年又授權日本 Nippon Columbia 發行(編號 NCC-8032-AX)。

這張唱片有一段鮮為人知的故事。林克昌本人在回憶錄中，把樂城唱片的那個版本形容為「慘不忍睹」——錄音師的技術與樂團的演奏，讓他那極度藝術家的性格無法忍受。錄音素質低下，製作粗糙，這幾乎是他不願承認自己參與過的一張唱片。

然而，1972年日本 Nippon Columbia 取得授權後，以當年日本最先進的錄音處理技術——PCM數位錄音前身的 MASTER SONIC 技術——重新處理了這份母帶。原本模糊粗糙的聲音，在這個處理之後脫胎換骨，各路音頻清晰通透，成為了一張真正意義上的「發燒片」。

這張日本發行版，流傳量極少，幾乎沒有人知道。

但西崎崇子聽到了，被它深深打動。

值得注意的是：她聽到的，正是這張經過日本技術重新處理的版本。若是香港樂城的原始版本——那個連林克昌自己都說「慘不忍睹」的錄音——恐怕根本無法把林克昌演奏裡那個「二胡的靈魂」傳遞出來。是日本的 MASTER SONIC 技術，讓林克昌的藝術得以穿透粗糙的錄音，抵達西崎崇子的耳朵。沒有這個技術處理，這個故事可能根本不會發生。

她把這份感動告訴了海曼。海曼在香港本來就是唱片經銷商，與林克昌早已熟識——根據林克昌的回憶錄，兩人在香港音樂圈早有往來。透過海曼的牽線，西崎崇子與林克昌得以直接交流，深入探討「梁祝」的詮釋方式。然後，她告訴海曼：「我想錄這首曲子。」

海曼當然全力支持——他親自出資，找來林克昌擔任指揮，聯合名古屋愛樂管弦樂團(西崎崇子是名古屋出身)，在東京入間市民會館錄下了這份「梁祝」。

這張唱片，就是今天眼前這張：HK Records HK-1003，1978年出版，日本壓製，歷史首版藍標黑膠。

海曼自己也沒有料到，這張唱片從此賣出了數百萬張。它的成功，後來成為他創辦 Marco Polo、再創辦 Naxos 的本錢——今天全球最大的古典音樂廠牌 Naxos，它真正的起點，是西崎崇子當年聽到一張幾乎被世人遺忘的唱片，然後主動說：「我想錄這首曲子。」

一個女性演奏家對一首曲子的熱情，意外地改變了整個古典音樂產業的版圖。

林克昌：兩個詮釋之間的隱形主角

在說第二張唱片之前，必須先說清楚這個人。

林克昌（Kek-Tjiang Lim，1928-2017），生於印尼婆羅洲，印尼華僑。他1951年在巴黎拜入小提琴宗師安奈斯可（George Enescu,1881—1955）門下，是安奈斯可晚年的學生之一。1955年參加比利時伊莉莎白女王大賽，以驚人的技術引起全場矚目——大衛·奧伊斯特拉赫(David Oistrakh,1908-1974)當場青睞，甚至邀請他赴莫斯科入門下，但林克昌迫於現實未能成行。

1959年，林克昌接受新中國政府邀請，攜家舉遷前往中國，在北京定居。這個決定，改變了「梁祝」的演奏史。

他在北京的那些年（1959-1968），正是「梁祝」誕生後最初在中國大陸流傳的年代。他深入研究了這首曲子的精髓——而他的研究方式，與眾不同。

他花了大量時間研究二胡的演奏藝術，觀察二胡演奏家如何用滑音、吟音、磨音來傳遞越劇腔調的情感，然後把這些技法，設法移植到西方小提琴的弓法與指法之中。

這就是他的「終極法寶」——用西方小提琴的身體，說二胡的語言。

這段研究歷程，白紙黑字留在了那張1970年錄音、1971年香港樂城出版的唱片解說文字裡。1972年日本 Nippon Columbia 授權發行時，內頁說明中明確寫道：

「林君為了演奏本曲當花費了一個長時間對中國樂器二胡作深入的研究，因此演奏得更富有中國民族風格。」

這不是後人轉述，是當年的第一手文獻。

值得一提的是，這份錄音中林克昌使用的，是香港著名收藏家洗祖銘先生珍藏的一把意大利名琴——Guadagnini（瓜達尼尼），1799年製。一把接近兩百年的義大利名琴，說著越劇的語言。

西崎崇子聽到這張唱片後被深深打動，主動找上林克昌，正是因為她聽出來了——那個聲音裡有什麼東西，是她在其他「梁祝」版本中從未聽過的。

1978年，林克昌把這個法寶傳授給了西崎崇子。他指揮名古屋愛樂，親身站在她身旁，告訴她應該怎麼拉——哪個滑音要更長，哪個音頭要更輕，哪個段落應該有越劇演員唱腔的那種微微顫動。

HK-1003 這張唱片裡，西崎崇子的演奏方式，據林克昌本人所說，「大部分都來自於他的指導」。

那麼，第二張呢？

同樣是1978年之後不久，在中國大陸的北京，有人也在錄製「梁祝」。

演奏者是一位當時剛從上海音樂學院畢業、年僅23歲的女性小提琴家：湯寶娣（Tang Baodi，1960- ）。

你大概從未聽過這個名字。

要理解這個錄音，先要理解她是哪一代人？

湯寶娣1960年生於上海。文化大革命從1966年開始，她那年六歲。整個童年與青春期，她就是在那個年代裡長大的——那一代在文革中成長的孩子，有一個共同的名字：紅衛兵。不是個人的政治選擇，而是一個時代加諸在他們身上的身份。

然後，四人幫倒台，文革結束了。

改革開放啟動。這不只是政策的轉變，而是一個意識形態的根本轉折——一個原本把西方世界視為對立面的國家，開始讓自己的年輕人真正踏出國門，到西方去看、去學。湯寶娣是第一批被允許出國留學的音樂家之一——1981年赴澳洲塔斯馬尼亞音樂學院，1982年學成回國。

這一代人站在兩個世界的交界上。他們的身體裡，同時存放著三樣東西：在紅衛兵年代裡成長的記憶、西方學院的訓練、還有從小聽進去的中國民族音樂本能。

1983年，她走進錄音室，拉下這張唱片。那年，她二十三歲。

這份錄音由中國唱片公司錄製，出版了黑膠版（編號 DL-0051，1983年）——唱片內圈的刻板號： DL-83/0101 ，明確記錄了這個年份。同一份錄音後來也曾授權給台灣福茂唱片，先發行錄音帶版本，1989年再出版 CD 版（Linfair 23001）。而在日本，東芝 EMI 取得原始母帶，以黑膠唱片 TA-80009 出版——也就是今天眼前這張。

這四個版本中，只有兩份黑膠版本。（台灣當年並沒有發行過黑膠版）

其中值得特別說明的是：1983年，中國大陸剛走出文化大革命的封閉，整體工業與技術水平仍在恢復之中，錄音壓製的品質與當時的日本相比，自然有一段距離——這是時代條件使然，不是態度問題。東芝 EMI 取得這份錄音的原始母帶之後，以日本頂級的壓製工藝重新出版，讓這份演奏第一次以它應有的音質面貌，呈現在世界面前。

日本東芝版的側標（Obi）上，這樣宣傳：「中国唱片公司原盤による最新録音盤！」（中國唱片公司原盤授權的最新錄音！）

這就是它的真實身份：中國內部詮釋傳統，以世界頂級品質外輸的版本。這份錄音的最佳版本就是日本東芝版。

湯寶娣這個名字，在「梁祝」的演奏史研究中，幾乎完全缺席。連維基百科的「梁祝錄音版本列表」，都沒有收錄她的名字。

但只要你聽完這張唱片，就再也無法把她遺忘。

用西方小提琴演奏二胡

那湯寶娣的「梁祝」，是「這個靈魂本來就住在她的身體裡」。

她從小在上海成長，進入上海音樂學院附屬中學就讀時，音樂的身體記憶。她對越劇腔調的感知，不是研究來的，是從小聽進去的。

這個差別，在「梁祝」的「英台抗婚」那一段聽得最清楚。

這段音樂需要演奏者表達祝英台在父命與愛情之間的撕裂感——強烈、激烈、但同時又有一種戲曲演員那種誇張卻真實的情感爆發方式。湯寶娣在這一段，展現了一種西崎崇子版本沒有的東西：那種情感不是被「演奏」出來的，而是從她體內自然湧出的。

林克昌要花時間研究才能移植進去的東西，她天生就有。

但這個在當年並不是理所當然的。

那個年代走出去西方的人，回來之後更普遍的心態是：用西方來定義自己的價值。我去過西方、我學過西方、我是西方認證的——這是一種身份的鍍金，所謂「外來的和尚會念經」。以西方的光環來重新包裝自己，在當年幾乎是一種慣性。

湯寶娣走的是另一條路。這個選擇，在精神上，與「梁祝」這首曲子的創作核心完全同構——同樣是把西方的形式當工具，讓中國戲曲的韻味說話。湯寶娣的人生軌跡，與她演奏的這首曲子，在最深的地方是同一件事。

這背後，是她作為演奏家的根本精神：她不是一個處處標榜自己的演奏家。在音樂裡，自己並不是最重要的——不管是西方學院的訓練，還是中國傳統音樂的身體記憶，一切技術與藝術的積累，都是為了讓音樂本身說話。

而「梁祝」這首曲子，恰恰最需要這樣的演奏家。它的核心要求，也是它最難之處，正是：要用西方的樂器，演奏出二胡與中國傳統音樂的韻味。這件事，需要的不是一個想要證明自己的人，而是一個願意讓音樂透過自己流淌出來的人。

五首台灣民謠，一個時代的謎題

這張唱片還有一個細節，幾乎沒有人注意到。

B 面的最後一組曲目，是作曲家劉庄改編的「五首台灣民謠」：

雨夜花、思想起、天黑黑、淡水暮色、丟丟銅仔。

這五首曲子，是台灣日治時代留下的民謠，家喻戶曉，但屬於台灣。而這張唱片，是一份在中國大陸錄製、由中國官方唱片機構出版的錄音。

在1983年，兩岸政治仍處於高度對立的年代，由大陸作曲家把台灣民謠改編成小提琴組曲，收入一張中國官方唱片——這本身就是一件耐人尋味的文化行動。

而湯寶娣把這五首曲子拉得如何？答案是：極為成功。她的小提琴裡，有一種質樸的民間氣韻，完全保住了這些民謠原本的鄉土味，沒有被西方技法壓扁。要做到這一點，需要的正是那個「二胡詮釋法」的精髓——讓小提琴說民間語言，而不是讓民間語言屈從於小提琴。

兩張唱片，各自的歷史位置

把這兩張唱片並排放在桌上。

HK-1003（西崎崇子 / 林克昌 / 名古屋愛樂 / 1978）TA-80009（湯寶娣 / 袁方 / 中央樂團 / 1983）

它們之間的關係，不是競爭，也不是對比，而是兩個各自完整的存在。

西崎崇子與「梁祝」的關係，是一生的因緣。她聽到了林克昌的錄音，愛上了這首曲子，錄了第一張，然後一張接著一張，七次重錄，持續扮演這個角色，從未停歇。她完全接受了這個因緣，也真心珍視它。這首曲子能走向全世界，她功不可沒。

湯寶娣的故事，是另一種存在。她只留下了這一份錄音，然後從公眾的視野裡消失。但她所代表的那條演奏脈絡——從中國民族音樂的身體記憶出發，用西方小提琴說二胡的語言——是理解「梁祝」這首曲子不可或缺的一個面向。這件事，需要有人說出來。

貫穿這兩張唱片的，是林克昌那個沉默的影子。他在北京研究二胡，把那個法寶傳給了西崎崇子；而湯寶娣，從另一條路，帶著整個時代的重量，獨立抵達了同樣的地方。

唯一的專輯

湯寶娣在錄完這張唱片之後，繼續在上海交響樂團擔任演奏員，舉辦個人獨奏會，但再也沒有留下第二張個人演奏出版錄音。

這是她一生中唯一留下的錄音出版——從中國唱片公司的黑膠原版，到台灣福茂的錄音帶，到1989年的 CD，同一份錄音，跨越將近十年，以四種版本在三個地區流傳。之後，再也沒有第二張。

一個演奏如此出色的人，只留下了這一份專輯。

在今天的錄音產業邏輯下，這幾乎不可能發生——現在的體系，要嘛沒有任何出版，要嘛就會持續出版、大量曝光。但1983年的中國，錄音出版是一件稀少而嚴肅的事情，不是每個人都有機會留下唱片。能留下的，必須有特殊的緣分。

湯寶娣有幸留下了這一份。

而你今天還能找到這張東芝 EMI TA-80009——這份演奏在所有版本中品質最好、製作最嚴謹的黑膠——是更深一層的幸運。

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【Ancient Hall Record Stories】The most heard "Butterfly Lovers" in the world was played by a Japanese woman vs. Playing the Western violin as an Erhu: Tang Baodi’s "Butterfly Lovers"

If someone asked you: "Who performed the version of the Butterfly Lovers Violin Concerto that has been heard by the most people in the world?"

Most people’s first reaction would probably be: "It must be a Chinese person, right?"

The answer, however, is a Japanese female violinist named Takako Nishizaki (1944–).

From her first recording of the Butterfly Lovers in 1978 to her subsequent release of over seven different versions globally, many of her recordings have sold in the millions. She is, without question, the performer most deeply linked to this piece in the history of global recording.

A piece written by Chinese composers reached the world primarily through a Japanese woman. How did this happen?

Before we get into that story, we need to address something even more fundamental.

The core of the Butterfly Lovers concerto, from the very beginning, was this: using Western instruments and musical forms to perform the charm and soul of Chinese opera and folk instruments.

This isn't an interpretation added by later generations; it was the explicit intention of the composers, He Zhanhao and Chen Gang. They transplanted the vocal melodies of Yue opera, the sliding techniques of the Erhu, and the rhythmic language of Peking opera into the structure of a Western sonata. The success or failure of this piece has never been about how brilliant the violin technique is, but rather whether the performer can articulate that "traditional Chinese soul."

She heard it first, then she sought him out

To understand how this record was born, we first have to understand who Takako Nishizaki is.

She wasn’t just an ordinary performer. She was one of the finest Japanese female violinists of her time, having studied in the U.S. and completed the highest level of training at Juilliard. In 1964, she won second place in the Leventritt International Competition—the first-place winner that year was none other than Itzhak Perlman (1945–). In that era, this competition was a breeding ground for the world’s top masters; for instance, the 1967 winners were Pinchas Zukerman and Kyung-Wha Chung. Nishizaki competed in this elite circle, following closely behind Perlman. This was her personal achievement, but also the result of her family’s total dedication to her training.

In 1974, she settled in Hong Kong and met the German businessman Klaus Heymann (1936–). When she decided to marry him, her father had only one condition: she must never stop playing. The meaning was clear—he didn't want her years of accumulated talent to vanish into a marriage.

Heymann promised. But while a promise is one thing, the true drive always came from Nishizaki herself.

Around 1974, she came across a record in Hong Kong—a 1970 recording of the Butterfly Lovers featuring Kek-Tjiang Lim (Lin Ke-chang) as both the violin soloist and conductor of the Hong Kong Philharmonic. It was published in 1971 by Music City (SR0-22) and licensed to Japan's Nippon Columbia in 1972 (NCC-8032-AX).

There is a little-known story behind this record. In his memoirs, Lim described the original Music City version as "unbearable." As an extreme perfectionist, he couldn't stand the technician’s skills or the orchestra's performance. The recording quality was poor and the production was rough; it was a record he almost didn't want to admit he was part of.

However, when Japan’s Nippon Columbia obtained the rights in 1972, they used the most advanced processing technology of the time—MASTER SONIC, a precursor to PCM digital recording—to re-process the master tapes. The originally blurred and rough sound was transformed. Every frequency became clear and transparent, turning it into a true "audiophile" record.

This Japanese edition had a very small circulation; almost no one knew about it.

But Takako Nishizaki heard it, and she was deeply moved.

It is worth noting: what she heard was specifically this Japanese re-processed version. Had she heard the original Hong Kong release—the one Lim himself called "unbearable"—it likely would never have conveyed the "Erhu soul" in Lim’s playing. It was Japanese technology that allowed Lim’s art to pierce through a rough recording and reach Nishizaki’s ears. Without that technological intervention, this story might never have happened.

She shared her excitement with Heymann. Heymann, already a record distributor in Hong Kong, was well-acquainted with Lim. Through Heymann’s connection, Nishizaki and Lim were able to communicate directly and discuss the interpretation of the Butterfly Lovers in depth. Eventually, she told Heymann: "I want to record this piece."

Heymann supported her fully. He personally funded the project, brought in Lim as the conductor, and teamed up with the Nagoya Philharmonic Orchestra (Nishizaki’s hometown) to record this version at the Iruma Civic Hall in Tokyo.

That record is the one we see here today: HK Records HK-1003, published in 1978, pressed in Japan, the historic first edition blue-label vinyl.

Even Heymann didn't expect this record to sell millions of copies. Its success eventually provided the capital for him to found Marco Polo, and later, Naxos. Today, Naxos is the world’s largest classical music label, and its true starting point was Takako Nishizaki hearing a nearly forgotten record and saying: "I want to record this."

One female performer’s passion for a single piece of music accidentally changed the landscape of the entire classical music industry.

Kek-Tjiang Lim: The Invisible Protagonist Between Two Interpretations

Before discussing the second record, we must clarify who this man was.

Kek-Tjiang Lim (1928–2017) was born in Borneo, Indonesia, an overseas Chinese. In 1951, he became a student of the violin master George Enescu in Paris. In 1955, he participated in the Queen Elisabeth Competition in Belgium, drawing massive attention with his stunning technique. David Oistrakh was so impressed that he invited Lim to Moscow to study under him, though Lim was unable to go due to the circumstances of the time.

In 1959, Lim accepted an invitation from the new Chinese government and moved his family to Beijing. This decision changed the performance history of the Butterfly Lovers.

During those years in Beijing (1959–1968), the Butterfly Lovers was just beginning to circulate in mainland China. He studied the essence of the piece deeply—but his method was unique.

He spent a vast amount of time studying the art of the Erhu, observing how players used slides (huayin), vibrato (yinyin), and friction (moyin) to convey the emotions of Yue opera. He then figured out how to transplant these techniques into Western violin bowing and fingering.

This was his "ultimate secret weapon"—using the body of a Western violin to speak the language of the Erhu.

This research process was documented in the liner notes of that 1970 recording. When Nippon Columbia released it in 1972, the notes explicitly stated:

"Mr. Lim spent a long time conducting in-depth research on the Chinese instrument, the Erhu, in order to perform this piece; therefore, the performance is richer in Chinese national style."

Notably, in that recording, Lim used a famous Italian violin—a Guadagnini made in 1799. A nearly 200-year-old Italian masterpiece, speaking the language of Yue opera.

When Takako Nishizaki heard this and sought out Lim, it was because she heard something in that sound she had never heard in any other version. In 1978, Lim passed this "secret weapon" on to her. He conducted the Nagoya Philharmonic, standing right beside her, telling her how to play—which slide should be longer, which attack should be lighter, and which passage should have that slight tremor of a Yue opera singer's voice.

According to Lim himself, most of Nishizaki's playing style on the HK-1003 record came from his direct guidance.

So, what about the second record?

Shortly after 1978, in Beijing, someone else was also recording the Butterfly Lovers.

The performer was a 23-year-old female violinist who had just graduated from the Shanghai Conservatory of Music: Tang Baodi (1960–).

You have likely never heard this name.

To understand this recording, you must understand her generation. Tang was born in Shanghai in 1960. The Cultural Revolution began in 1966 when she was six. Her entire childhood and adolescence were spent in that era. The children who grew up during the Cultural Revolution shared a common label: the Red Guards. It wasn't necessarily a personal political choice, but an identity thrust upon them by the times.

Then, the "Gang of Four" fell, and the Cultural Revolution ended.

The "Reform and Opening-up" began. This wasn't just a policy shift; it was a fundamental turn in ideology. A country that had viewed the Western world as an adversary began allowing its youth to step outside, to see and learn from the West. Tang Baodi was among the first group of musicians allowed to study abroad—going to the Tasmania Conservatorium of Music in Australia in 1981 and returning in 1982.

This generation stood at the intersection of two worlds. Their bodies held three things simultaneously: the memories of growing up as Red Guards, Western academic training, and the innate instinct for Chinese folk music they had heard since childhood.

In 1983, she walked into the studio and recorded this album. She was twenty-three.

The recording was made by the China Record Corporation and released on vinyl (DL-0051, 1983). The matrix number on the inner ring (DL-83/0101) clearly records the year. The same recording was later licensed to Linfair Records in Taiwan, released first on cassette and then on CD in 1989. In Japan, Toshiba EMI obtained the master tapes and released it as the vinyl record TA-80009—the one we are looking at now.

Of these four versions, only two are vinyl.

It’s worth mentioning that in 1983, mainland China had just emerged from the isolation of the Cultural Revolution. Industrial and technological standards were still recovering, so the pressing quality naturally trailed behind that of Japan. This was a condition of the era, not a lack of effort. When Toshiba EMI acquired the master tapes, they used top-tier Japanese pressing technology to re-release it, allowing this performance to be presented to the world with the sound quality it deserved.

The "Obi" strip on the Japanese Toshiba version advertised: "Latest recording from the original master of the China Record Corporation!"

This is its true identity: an internal Chinese interpretation of tradition, exported with world-class quality. The best version of this recording is the Japanese Toshiba edition.

The name "Tang Baodi" is almost entirely absent from the research history of the Butterfly Lovers. Even Wikipedia’s "List of Butterfly Lovers Recordings" doesn't include her.

But once you hear this record, you will never be able to forget her.

Performing the Erhu with a Western Violin

If Nishizaki's version was "learned through effort," Tang Baodi’s version was "the soul already lived in her body."

Growing up in Shanghai and attending the middle school affiliated with the Shanghai Conservatory, that musical memory was part of her physical being. Her perception of Yue opera wasn't researched; it was absorbed since childhood.

This difference is clearest in the "Yingtai Protests the Marriage" section.

This part requires the performer to express Zhu Yingtai’s sense of being torn between her father’s command and her love—intense, fierce, yet with the exaggerated but real emotional outburst of an opera performer. In this passage, Tang Baodi displays something Nishizaki’s version lacks: the emotion isn't being "performed"; it is naturally welling up from within her.

The things Lim had to spend time researching to transplant, she possessed naturally.

But this choice wasn't a given at the time. The prevailing mindset for those who went to the West in those years was to use "the West" to define their own value. "I've been to the West, I’ve learned from the West, I am Western-certified"—it was a way of "gilding" one's identity.

Tang Baodi took a different path. Spiritually, her choice was perfectly aligned with the core creation of the Butterfly Lovers—using Western forms as a tool to let the charm of Chinese opera speak. Her life trajectory and the music she played were, at the deepest level, the same thing.

Behind this was her fundamental spirit as a performer: she wasn't an artist who constantly advertised herself. In the music, the self was not the most important thing. Whether it was Western academic training or the physical memory of traditional Chinese music, all technical and artistic accumulation served to let the music speak for itself.

And the Butterfly Lovers happens to be the piece that needs such a performer the most. Its core requirement—and its greatest difficulty—is precisely to use Western instruments to play the charm of the Erhu and traditional Chinese music. This task requires not someone who wants to prove themselves, but someone willing to let the music flow through them.

Five Taiwan Folk Songs: A Riddle of the Era

There is another detail on this record that almost no one notices.

The last set of tracks on Side B is "Five Taiwan Folk Songs" arranged by composer Liu Zhuang: Rainy Night Flower, Thinking of You, Darkening Sky, Tamsui Twilight, Diu Diu Dang Ah.

These five songs are famous folk tunes from Taiwan’s Japanese colonial era, known to every household, but they belong to Taiwan. Yet, this record was recorded in mainland China and published by a Chinese state-owned record institution.

In 1983, when cross-strait politics were still highly antagonistic, having a mainland composer arrange Taiwanese folk songs into a violin suite and including them on an official Chinese record was a fascinating cultural act in itself.

And how does Tang Baodi play these five songs? The answer: brilliantly. There is a rustic, folk-like atmosphere in her violin that perfectly preserves the original "earthiness" of these songs without being flattened by Western techniques. To achieve this requires the essence of that "Erhu interpretation"—letting the violin speak the language of the people, rather than forcing the people's language to submit to the violin.

Two Records, Their Respective Historical Positions

Place these two records side-by-side on the table.

HK-1003 (Nishizaki / Lim / Nagoya Phil / 1978)

TA-80009 (Tang Baodi / Yuan Fang / Central Phil / 1983)

The relationship between them is not one of competition or contrast, but two complete, independent existences.

Takako Nishizaki’s relationship with the Butterfly Lovers was a lifelong destiny. She heard Lim’s recording, fell in love with the piece, recorded the first version, and then continued with seven more, never ceasing to play this role. She fully accepted this destiny and genuinely cherished it. She deserves immense credit for bringing this piece to the global stage.

Tang Baodi’s story is a different kind of existence. She left only this one recording and then vanished from the public eye. But the lineage of performance she represents—starting from the physical memory of Chinese folk music and using the Western violin to speak the language of the Erhu—is an indispensable dimension for understanding the Butterfly Lovers. This is a story that needs to be told.

Running through both records is the silent shadow of Kek-Tjiang Lim. He researched the Erhu in Beijing and passed that secret weapon to Nishizaki; meanwhile, Tang Baodi, through a different path and carrying the weight of an entire era, arrived independently at the same place.

The Only Album

After recording this album, Tang Baodi continued to serve as a performer in the Shanghai Symphony Orchestra and held solo recitals, but she never released another personal recording.

This remains the only published recording of her life—from the original China Record Corporation vinyl to the Taiwan Linfair cassette and the 1989 CD. The same recording circulated for nearly a decade in four versions across three regions. After that, there was nothing else.

In today’s recording industry logic, this is almost impossible. The system today either produces nothing or produces constant output and exposure. But in 1983 China, publishing a recording was a rare and serious matter. Not everyone had the chance to leave behind a record. To do so required a special kind of fate.

Tang Baodi was fortunate enough to leave this one behind.

And the fact that you can still find this Toshiba EMI TA-80009 today—the version with the highest quality and most rigorous production of all editions—is an even deeper stroke of luck.