The Soul Sound: King Gesar Takes the Opera Stage

From the burning coals rises the juniper's white smoke—fragrant, dense—billowing into the shining emptiness of the sky, a vast mirror-like expanse unclouded by shadow, birth, or the fear of death. This passage is drawn from the opera libretto *"Lieberson: King Gesar"* by writer and scholar Douglas Penick, with portions translated from the original epic text.

Peter Lieberson (1946–2011) died in 2011 at the age of 64, after a protracted struggle with illness. Even in his final days, this elegant and approachable man continually urged friends and family to keep in mind the hidden wisdom and distinctive Tibetan heritage. The 1996 edition of *"Lieberson: King Gesar"*, released by Sony Classical, bears the Tibetan characters ཀི་ and བསྭོ་ on its cover—both drawn from the calligraphy of Chögyam Trungpa (1939-1987)—to underscore the strength of King Gesar.

Peter Lieberson, a leading composer of the post-World War II period, wove his practitioner identity directly into his everyday musical work and way of life. At the time of his death, mainstream media were filled with obituaries and memorial pieces, wherein colleagues who had worked with him lauded his musical accomplishments. These included conductor Seiji Ozawa, cellist Yo-Yo Ma, minimalist composer Philip Glass, and pianists Emanuel Ax and Peter Serkin—both of whom had maintained long-term creative partnerships with Lieberson.

His bond with Chögyam Trungpa, as student and teacher, was often recalled with warmth by others.

Before meeting Chögyam Trungpa, Lieberson—who came from a musical family and had trained with many renowned masters—was lost in a "labyrinth of theory": adept at traditional compositional forms, yet he had forgotten his purpose for writing and could no longer express himself. As one of the earliest teachers of the Shambhala Training program, he was viewed by those he taught or mentored as someone who "truly understood and believed in Chögyam Trungpa," and they referred to him as "an outstanding student, a role model for others, and a gentle administrator.

In 1976, the bewildered composer met Chögyam Trungpa, an encounter that resolved these challenges: Lieberson’s ultimate aims had been to help people perceive the world through music and to employ music as a foundation for a platform built on universal values.

For the decade he spent with Chögyam Trungpa, Lieberson let go of a specific determinist belief—that music should overwhelm its audience. Trungpa’s constant counsel was: "Structure is not a constraint; it reveals the root of the complex situations in which all things exist, namely, the self-centered perspective." Such a viewpoint leads individuals to depend on conceptual layers instead of confronting experiences and feelings directly.

Rather than that, Lieberson directed his attention to the "soul sound," recovering the insight of emotion and lived experience embedded in ideas. Across *"Drala / Warrior Deity"* (1986), *"King Gesar"* (1992), *"The Five Great Elements"* (1995), *"Red Garuda"* (1999), and concluding with *"The Six Realms"* (2000), he persistently examined the distinctive musical significance of Tibetan culture.

Within Lieberson's creative vision, Drala (linked with individual energy), the Five Elements (embodying harmony's essence), the Garuda (symbolizing the self's nature), and the Six Realms (representing impermanence) collectively draw our attention back to our obligation to the world and to ourselves: to interact with one another fearlessly and compassionately, and to trust in light during disorder. "These concepts, familiar on the high plateau, transcend ethnic and cultural divides, offering us profound inspiration.

Lieberson and Douglas Penick structured the chamber opera *"King Gesar"* into seven stages of the hero's life: Invocation, Birth, Trials, Horse Race, Goddess's Song, Subjugation of Demons, and Song of Fulfillment. The name and related concepts of King Gesar show up often in Lieberson's musical compositions, a result of Chögyam Trungpa's influence. "For me, King Gesar is not merely a historical figure or a legendary hero; he is the ultimate symbol of the path to enlightenment.

Lieberson applied highly experimental structural methods while retaining the traits of conventional storytelling. Unprepared listeners are pulled into an alternate realm of boundless potential, where the tale unfolds from the viewpoints of the hero, the gods, and occasionally the foe. Multiple tones arise at once from voices and instruments, while the purpose behind the vocals and the sense of the melodies are intentionally made unclear. The pacing is strongly repetitive, yet it contains variations and subtle shifts.

I first came to know Lieberson's compositions in 2007, and they are best experienced after dark. When listening at night, the music unfolds as shifting scenes, and a sense of awakening quietly seeps into the mind. In this setting, the work's sonic meaning is left wholly to the audience, with the understanding that "each person profoundly realizing that they themselves are the hero Gesar." It is at such moments that the melodies guide the spirit toward quiet illumination.

This article on King Gesar in the Musical Score is a translation from Suolangwangqing's blog. In memory of Lieberson, a close friend of his once wrote: "Like the fabric of life, warp and weft unique, precious threads weave a noble heart; no longer remembering the desert, the soul has risen to the sea.