Feature: Two last wishes, one lasting bond: melody of kinship linking Chinese, Kazakh hearts

Baldyrgan Baikadamova, daughter of Kazakh musician Bakhytzhan Baikadamov, recalled Xian's deepest wish -- to someday carry these Kazakh-inspired compositions, each note brimming with gratitude for the people who sheltered him, back to China.

BEIJING, June 15 (Xinhua) -- "He hoped we'd find his family and tell them how he lived in Almaty, and that his final works would one day return to his motherland," said Baldyrgan Baikadamova, daughter of Kazakh musician Bakhytzhan Baikadamov.

Her voice carried the weight of a decades-old promise -- to honor the legacy of a Chinese composer her family had once embraced as one of their own.

This year marks the 120th anniversary of the birth of Xian Xinghai, a celebrated Chinese composer. In 1941, as the Great Patriotic War erupted, Xian found himself stranded in Moscow. With the conflict intensifying and all paths to home severed, he embarked on a solitary journey to Almaty the following year -- exiled, yet undeterred, from a homeland he would never see again.

It was then that Baikadamov offered not just shelter, but dignity and creative kinship -- forging a bond that would endure as a testament to the unbreakable cultural ties between China and Central Asia.

A FAMILY BEYOND BORDERS

Before arriving in Almaty, Xian Xinghai had been composing for a documentary commissioned by the Communist Party of China. The outbreak of war shattered his plans, leaving him stranded thousands of miles from home -- his creative mission abruptly suspended.

Weak and destitute in a foreign city, fate intervened when he crossed paths with Kazakh composer Bakhytzhan Baikadamov. Though strangers, Baikadamov opened not just his door but his world -- offering shelter, solidarity, and the warmth of kinship to a fellow artist in exile.

Though no words passed between them, the two composers needed none -- music became their shared tongue. In those war-torn years, melodies flowed where speech failed, each note a vessel for the unspeakable: grief, resilience, and the quiet defiance of art in the face of ruin.

"Over the years, through my father's stories and our family's memories, I've come to feel as though I had witnessed that chapter of history myself," said Baikadamova.

"Life was hard, but the days were warm," she recalled. Rations were meager -- barely enough to survive -- but resourcefulness bloomed in their yard. "My grandmother grew potatoes and carrots in our yard and bartered for oil and salt."

When the brutal Almaty winter arrived and Xian had no coat to protect him, the elder took an old coat and -- stitch by stitch -- reshaped it to fit his gaunt frame, she said.

Through the decades, the Baikadamovs guarded Xian's last wishes like a sacred trust. In 1986 -- after 40 years of determined searching -- they finally found Xian Nina, the composer's daughter. "Since then," said Baikadamova, "our two families have grown into one -- a living bridge between Kazakhstan and China."

HOMEWARD THROUGH MUSIC

In the Baikadamov home, music was never merely art -- it was the pulse of daily existence. Melodies spilled from room to room, weaving through conversations, lingering in the spaces between words. For Xian and Baikadamov, these notes became their shared vocabulary, a language more eloquent than any mother tongue could provide.

Though thousands of miles from China, Xian's soul remained tethered to his homeland. In that modest Almaty house, his piano became both battle cry and lifeline -- transforming exile's anguish into revolutionary art. Between 1942-43, he channeled all his longing, fury and patriotism into the monumental symphonies Liberation of the Nation and Sacred War, as well as the orchestral suite Red All Over the River.

Inspired by Baikadamov, Xian immersed himself in Kazakh musical traditions, skillfully weaving local folklore into his compositions. His symphony Amangeldy, dedicated to the Kazakh national hero, became both a cultural tribute and a powerful anti-fascist anthem, earning deep admiration from local audiences.

But Xian's contributions extended further. He created vibrant works, brimming with regional character, while generously sharing his expertise -- teaching music theory, coaching performers, and organizing concerts that sparked tremendous public enthusiasm. Through these efforts, notes became bonds, and melodies turned into lasting friendships.

Baikadamova recalled Xian's deepest wish -- to someday carry these Kazakh-inspired compositions, each note brimming with gratitude for the people who sheltered him, back to China.

"I know exactly what 'final works' mean to a composer -- it's like leaving behind their last breath," she said, her voice hushed with reverence. "My grandmother, my father, my aunt -- they're all gone. I'm the only musician left in the family. This responsibility now rests on me, and I have to fulfill it."

On December 11, 2023 -- 82 years after Xian Xinghai first found refuge in Almaty -- history came full circle in his hometown of Panyu, in China's Guangdong Province. The Xinghai Concert Hall, named for the exiled composer, hosted a landmark event: a symphonic celebration of the extraordinary bond between Xian and Baikadamov.

That night, a newly adapted version of Amangeldy -- adapted by Kazakh composer Bakir Bayakhunov at Baikadamova's request -- was performed by the Guangzhou Symphony Orchestra. As the familiar Kazakh melodies merged with Chinese orchestral grandeur, Baikadamova sat motionless in the audience, tears glistening under the concert hall lights.

"Though he never made it home himself, Xian's music did," said Baykadamova. It journeyed across borders and through time -- carrying his unbroken spirit, his artistic vision, and the extraordinary kinship between our nations that began in one humble Almaty home.

ECHOING FRIENDSHIP

In a 1937 letter to his mother, Xian penned words that would become his life's refrain: "To survive, we must stand together and defend the motherland, which is greater than even our own mothers." That conviction defined both his life and his music.

Returning from his studies in Paris in 1935, Xian devoted himself to composing patriotic songs and resistance music. By 1938, he had been teaching at the Lu Xun Academy of Arts in Yan'an, where he composed some of his most stirring works.

In a restored Yan'an cave dwelling, a faded photograph tells a silent story: Xian, bundled in a cotton coat, hunches over a crude wooden table, his pen poised mid-thought. The winter winds rattled the cave's wooden shutter, but nothing could extinguish the creative fire within. For six sleepless days and nights, Xian's pen raced across manuscript paper and eventually gave birth to The Yellow River Cantata, a masterpiece that would surge through concert halls and battlefields alike, becoming the defiant heartbeat of a nation at war.

"Especially the eighth movement, The Roaring Yellow River, conveys an unshakable resolve and indomitable spirit," said Biembet Demeuov, the chief conductor of the B. Baikadamov State Choral Chapel.

He said that the same spirit runs through Amangeldy, the symphonic work Xian co-created with Baikadamov. "Both men were responding to the threat of national invasion. Their hearts resonated across borders."

The year 2024 marks the 85th anniversary of The Yellow River Cantata's premiere. In October, the Baikadamov State Choir of Kazakhstan, under the baton of Demeuov, performed the iconic piece in Wuhan, China. As the cantata's triumphant refrain filled the hall, it awakened something primal in the crowd, a shared emotional memory, a powerful echo of resistance and hope.

That is the enduring strength of The Yellow River Cantata and Amangeldy -- works that transcend time and borders. And that is why we remember them today: through their music, we honor history and carry forward a friendship forged in the darkest hours, said Yu Yafei, a musicologist at Xinghai Conservatory of Music in Guangzhou.

In Almaty, the largest city of Kazakhstan, two parallel streets whisper a silent duet -- Xian Xinghai Avenue and Baikadamov Street, their namesakes forever intertwined like musical staves on a score. Running side by side, the two streets stand as a tribute to two musicians and to the lasting bond between their nations.

Now nearing 80, Baikadamova brushes aside both age and ailment with the same determination that has sustained her mission for decades. This August, she plans to return to Guangzhou to donate several of Xian Xinghai's personal items and historical documents. This time, she'll be bringing her granddaughter.

"I want her to see where Xian came from," she said. "This bond -- between our families, between our nations -- is something I hope will be passed down for generations."■