罗威 – 在自由中找到音乐灵魂

从“被要求”到“自觉”,他开始听见声音与沉默之间的呼吸,也在音乐的缝隙里,慢慢找到自己。

文│张鹤杨 图│受访者、新报业媒体提供

新加坡青年爱乐交响乐团(Singapore Youth Philharmonic Orchestra, SYPO)创办人、音乐总监罗威,是杨秀桃音乐学院创院初期的学生之一。二十年过去,他的学生也陆续考入这间本地最高音乐学府。对他而言,新加坡不仅是工作与生活的地方,更是他见证本地音乐教育发展、并在其中找到自身位置的地方。早在他步入社会之前,这所刚成立的学院,就是他必须学习适应的第一个新环境。

Caption: 除了教育与演出,罗威还是本地知名提琴收藏The Rin Collection的管理人,负责近千把百年老琴的出借与

维护。

1985年出生的罗威成长在一个被音乐包围的家庭。父母都任教于上海市音乐幼儿园,家中琴声不绝。他的小提琴启蒙老师是作曲家丁善德的女儿丁芷诺。进入上海音乐学院附中后,他随黄辰星和郑石生学琴。罗威记忆中的音乐,是每天精准到分钟的练习时间,是对技巧尽善尽美的追求。然而,当他来到新加坡时,发现自己即将面对的世界完全不同。

失去节奏的练琴者

2004年,高三毕业的他在郑石生的推荐下,考获全额奖学金赴新加坡深造,师从小提琴家钱舟。那时杨秀桃音乐学院仍在起步阶段,他是第二届学生——这既是冒险,也是机会。“那个时候做这个决定其实挺大胆的,”他说:“对于一个19岁的学生而言,从熟悉的体系跳入一个全新的环境,不仅意味着学习方式的转变,更意味着生活的重建。”

飞机舱门打开的瞬间,热气扑面而来,公路两旁树木浓密、街道安静、行人稀少,城市的秩序井然却让他感到陌生。

“我刚下飞机的第一印象,就是安静。上海永远是嘈杂的,这里反而有一种被抽空的

寂静。”

刚入学的头几个月,是他记忆里最难适应的时期。语言是一道障碍,但更大的挑战来自学习方式的不同。中国式音乐训练讲究“被要求”,每天有明确的练琴目标;而在杨秀桃音乐学院,老师鼓励学生自己设定方向,自我评估进度。课堂上不再是“这样拉对不对”,而是“你觉得为什么要这样拉”。

“在那样的自由里,我反而不知道怎么做。”他坦言,前半年几乎失去节奏——没人逼着练琴,也没人监督。

“这种自由更体现在音乐上。”他记得自己练习格里格(Edvard Grieg)的奏鸣曲,听了许多大师的录音,试图从中学习,但钱舟听完后说:“听得出来你用了心,但这不是你的音乐。”那一刻,

他第一次意识到,“理解”并不等于“模仿”。他开始尝试放下录音,用心去感受旋律的走向与呼吸。那次转变,让他理解了自由的意义——不是模仿或随波逐流,而是相信自己的声音。

他也始终记得刚来时的一段小插曲:那时琴房早上九点才开放,他一开始不

知道,很早就到了学校。当时的院长史蒂文·巴克斯特(Steven Baxter)见状,用自己的卡刷开琴房,替他解了围,此后更经常亲自为他开门。那是他第一次在异乡感受到一种无言的认可——有人看见了他的努力。

聆听乐器的呢喃

在他即将毕业的时候,罗威结识了一位亦师亦友的贵人——已故企业家、提琴收藏家林启明。由他创立的The Rin Collection收藏近千把珍贵名琴,是亚洲最著名的乐器收藏

之一。

其实早在附中时期,罗威就对乐器产生了兴趣。他喜欢阅读音乐相关的文字,其中印象最深的一本书,是香港学者郑延益的乐评集《春风

风人》。书中记录了制琴师与演奏家的故事,描述名琴的音色、木纹与工艺,讲述声音如何跨越时间,被不同演奏家唤醒。那是他第一次从文字中理解乐器本身的生命。他自己第一次触摸到真正的百年名琴,是黄辰星帮他借来的一把意大利制琴师Gagliano的作品。那一刻他意识到,声音的差异不仅来自演奏者,也来自木头、时间与制作者的手。那把琴当时价值二三十万美元,这个数字令他震撼,却也让他认真思考:一把琴为何能拥有这样的生命力?

这种对乐器敏锐的感知力,在他认识林启明后得到了用武之地。那时罗威担任钱舟的助教,林启明常请他到家中帮忙试琴。第一次走进那间被木香包围的房间,他看见整墙的琴在恒温环境中整齐排列。林先生递给他一把琴,要他拉几段乐句,听听声音的共鸣与延音。几次之后,这成了他们之间的惯例。

罗威说,林启明虽然不是演奏家,却有极为敏锐的听觉和惊人的记忆力。“只要是他经手过的琴,哪怕四五年后他依然能记得产地、年份,这是非常不可思议的。”林启明曾对他说,琴是有生命的。夜深人静时,他常关掉灯,坐在琴房里听木头的呼吸。罗威起初不以为意,但渐渐明白,那种对声音的专注与尊重,是音乐精神的另一种形式。

随着接触的深入,林启明发现他对乐器的敏感与责任心,邀请他协助管理收藏。目前他负责监督近千把琴的出借、保养与回收,也亲自为学生或演奏家挑选最合适的琴。他说,管理这些琴让他重新理解了时间的意义——木头需要时间养成音色,人需要时间体会声音,而文化的延续,也在于这种时间的积累。

音乐传承的桥梁

2012年,在攻读小提琴演奏硕士期间,他参与组办新加坡少儿爱乐交响乐团并担任指挥。在日常排练和教学中,他逐渐意识到,单靠演奏经验不足以带领一支青少年乐团。孩子们需要的不是模棱两可的指示,而是清晰的答案和可以依赖的信心。

2013年,他重返杨秀桃音乐学院,攻读指挥专业硕士。“我读指挥不是为了成为伟大的指挥家,而是为了教育。”他说:“我要确保孩子们在学习过程中少走弯路。”在他看来,指挥不仅是音乐技艺,更是一种教育者的姿态,要在舞台上让学生既感到亲近,又能由衷信服。

从学生到教育者、从演奏者到管理者,罗威的身份逐渐清晰。他没有急于追求国际舞台,而是选择在教学与实践中沉淀。毕业前,他原计划前往法国深造,甚至开始准备语言考试。但在教学与 Rin Collection 的工作之间,他发现自己更享受与年轻人相处的过程。音乐对他而言,不再只是表演或个人成就,而是一种能让他看到“延续”的媒介。“哪怕你拉到世界第一,又能怎样?”他曾自问,“最终有意义的,是你能不能把文化传下去。”

2019年,他筹办成立了新加坡青年爱乐交响乐团,理念继承了他早年受丁芷诺启发的思路:音乐不仅是一个人的技巧展现,更是合作与倾听的教育。他为此设立“预备班”,让四五岁的孩子循序渐进地进入乐团体系,弥补传统青年乐团“青黄不接”的问题。“青年乐团流动性大,要有持续性,就必须从小培养。否则只靠临时招募,难免会出现断层。”

罗威阐述,乐团的宗旨并非让学生都成为职业演奏家,而是鼓励他们、支持他们追求自己的梦想。2025年,他们与中国爱乐青少年交响乐团联合演出贝多芬交响曲,八十多名年轻音乐家同台。罗威不讳言,排练时间有限,演出未必完美,但他更在意孩子们在过程中学到的专注与责任。

“演得好坏不是最重要的,关键是他们在台上知道自己属于一个整体。”

他常用“桥梁”来形容自己。这个比喻包含多层意义:他希望成为青年人与未来之间的桥梁,让学生在音乐中找到自我;也是新加坡与国际舞台之间的桥梁,通过演出与交流,让更多年轻人理解文化的互通。而在更深层的意义上,他把自己视为“梦想与现实”的桥梁,为真心热爱音乐的年轻人插上一双翅膀。

被问到是否觉得自己已经“融入”新加坡,他说:“融入不是身份的转变,而是一种成长。当你在这座城市中投入、学习、付出,并在它的节奏里继续成长,这座城市也在悄悄改变着你。人与地方之间的关系,从来都不是单向的适应,而是一种彼此成全——就像我和我的学生们。”

Caption: 罗威从小生长在音乐氛围浓厚的家庭

罗威(右一)在杨秀桃音乐学院与指挥系同学和师长。

罗威带学生拜访启蒙老师丁芷诺。

2024年,罗威指挥的新加坡青年爱乐交响乐团联合杨秀桃音乐学院的学生,同台呈献一场儿童音乐剧场制作《诗宁的太空历险》(Shining in Space),这是当时的彩排情况。

新加坡青年爱乐交响乐团为青少年提供了展示才华的舞台,也为他们创造了追寻音乐事业的机遇。

Notes of wisdom

Musician and educator Luo Wei reflects on how Singapore changed his understanding of how music can be learned, expressed, and appreciated.

Translation: Hong Xinyi

Born in 1985 in Shanghai to parents who were both music teachers, Luo Wei began learning the violin at a young age. In 2004, he won a scholarship to further his education in Singapore, where he studied under violinist Qian Zhou at the Yong Siew Toh Conservatory of Music. Joining this conservatory during its early years was a risk, but also an opportunity. “For a 19-year-old, entering this new environment was not just about a change in learning style, but a rebuilding of my life,” he remembers.

His first impression of Singapore remains vivid: humid air, tree-lined roads, and an orderly city that felt alien. “Shanghai was always bustling,” Luo says. “Here, there was a kind of quiet that felt like a vacuum.”

The first few months were tough, and not just because of the language barrier. In China, there had been clear goals for his daily practice sessions. But here, teachers encouraged students to set their own direction and evaluate their own progress. Students were not told “right” and “wrong” ways to play, but rather were asked to articulate why they wanted to play in a particular way.

Paradoxically, this new freedom made Luo feel lost. When learning Edvard Grieg’s violin sonata, he remembers listening to recordings performed by many renowned musicians. After hearing his student play the piece, Qian told him: “I can hear that you have put in a lot of effort. But this is not your music.”

In that moment, Luo realised for the first time that understanding did not mean imitation, and freedom meant believing in his own voice. He set aside those recordings he had leaned on, and tried to understand the music on an emotional level.

Luo has a longstanding interest in musical instruments, and a book by Hong Kong scholar Tseng Yen Yih about the timbre, grain, and craftsmanship of iconic violins had made a deep impression on him. This passion found a new avenue for expression in Singapore when he got to know businessman Rin Kei Mei.

Rin, who has since passed away, had built one of Asia’s most famous collections of musical instruments. When Luo was working as Qian’s teaching assistant, he was often invited to Rin’s house to test the violins in this collection. Luo says that the late Rin had an acute ear for music as well as a startling memory that was able to recall the provenance of instruments years after he had first encountered them. For this music lover, these instruments were alive.

When Rin discovered Luo’s affinity for musical instruments, he invited him to assist in managing the Rin Collection. Luo supervises the loan, maintenance, and return of the instruments in the collection, and also helps students and professional musicians select suitable instruments. This work has led him to a new understanding of time – wood needs time to age, and that ageing changes the sound of an instrument. Humans need time to understand these sounds, just as culture takes time to evolve.

Luo is also an educator. In 2013, he returned to Yong Siew Toh Conservatory to pursue a master’s degree in conducting, so that he could better guide young students. In 2019, he founded the Singapore Youth Philharmonic Orchestra (SYPO) to nurture young talents. SYPO’s goal is not to turn youths into professional musicians. Rather, through practice and performance, Luo hopes they can learn focus and responsibility, and understand the meaning of working as a collective.

When asked whether he feels more at home in Singapore now, Luo replies: “Integration is not about transformation, but growth. When you are absorbed in learning and contributing, and grow with this city’s rhythms, it will change you. The relationship between a person and a place is always reciprocal, just like the relationship between me and my students.”