Churen Li in Dumaguete: A Recollection on Her Person, Artistry, and Advice

Written by Joseph John L. Verallo  |  April 22, 2026

| Churen Li in Dumaguete

My first encounter with the pianist-composer was in the Metro Manila airport with Veniccio founder Marco Balbin. Seeing her for the first time, I could see she had a very grounded personality that accompanied a sophisticated sense of style. She was also quite the conversationalist, eagerly asking questions about the socio-cultural aspects of the Philippines, as well as telling us her own stories.

By then, I’d already done some research on her life and career, how she was one of the youngest students to earn a Bachelor’s degree at the Yong Siew Toh Conservatory of Music, and that she studied under Peter Frankl while earning her Master’s Degree at Yale. While conversing with her, I also learned that her Master’s was in Philosophy of Music and that she had even written a paper on the relation between bodily sensations and musical performance, using Maurice Merleau-Ponty as her framework.

Arriving in Dumaguete, the three of us checked into the hotel before proceeding to Silliman University. The university is a historic institute founded in 1901 that, to date, contributes to the artistic and cultural landscape of the Philippines. Its Luce Auditorium was a large hall that kept two grand pianos, a Steinway and a Yamaha. Churen opted for the Yamaha, finding the Steinway’s tone odd (it was later explained that the Steinway’s hammers had broken and were replaced with Yamaha ones). Yet even the Yamaha had its issues, persistently refusing to be in tune as Churen played on it. This was especially bothersome to her since she had perfect pitch, she explained.

Throughout the two-day concert run, Churen played four of her original compositions along with works by Schumann, Ravel, and Chopin. Her Prelude After Bach and Moonrise were similar in that they began with the source material (Bach’s prelude from his Cello Suite in D minor and Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, respectively), before moving into Churen’s composed portions. Her Burning Moon begins as a sort of reharmonization of Debussy’s most famous piano work before it escalates into a more passionate work demanding more virtuosity than the original with Churen’s rapid arpeggios. Dream of the Panther, she explained, took inspiration from Cartier’s emblematic panther in their designs. It was energetic both in tempo and harmony and contained a neat quotation of Saint-Saën’s “The Swan.”

This was my first exposure to the eclecticism of the pianist-composer. What stood out as well was her performance of Chopin’s Nocturne in E-flat major, Op. 9, No. 2, whose passages she would sometimes improvise. I found this fascinating since improvisation isn’t common among classical pianists nowadays. 

| Churen’s Artistry

I do not believe it is an exaggeration to say Churen is one of the bolder classical pianists out there. Not only is she a composer, but, as she showed with Chopin’s E-flat Nocturne, she was not afraid to improvise. 

Improvisation plays an odd role in classical music nowadays. On the one hand, it can not be denied that it was once a significant practice in the tradition, with fantasias and toccatas being improvised. In forms such as the concerto, the cadenza was traditionally improvised by the soloist; however, nowadays we rely on pre-written ones. Especially with the rise in popularity of competitions, straying too far from the sheet is practically deemed as sacrilegious. 

Hearing the Nocturne played differently that night was a breath of fresh air. At least in my experience, I’ve never heard a live performer “insert themselves” and stray that far from the original work (disregarding the occasional memory slip). You would mostly stumble upon it in older recordings, like ones by Vladimir Horowitz.

Churen explained during a car ride that one way older pianists would “insert themselves” into their performances was by doing some sort of prelude before the program. This could be done in a variety of ways, sometimes even just a simple arpeggio in the key of the following piece. She also mentioned that the prelude had historical significance centuries back in church, where an organist would play preludes as the congregation gathered. 

This historical significance prompted her to compose the Prelude After Bach, which, she shared, was her own prelude for Schumann’s Kreisleriana. 

It is this other fascinating thing about her artistry: how she could intuitively see links between different works. We also saw this with her work Dream of the Panther, where she quoted “The Swan.” She also has a penchant for quoting several other works in her other original compositions. She explained that this was also a way to connect her to the whole tradition of classical music. 

| Advice for Pianists

Throughout the trip, Churen talked about several things, some of which I found to be good pieces of advice for aspiring pianists.

The first was the obvious: slow practice. Students are probably tired of hearing this, and teachers are tired of telling this. But I found the way Churen explained it gave great answers on the hows and whys.

How slow should you practice? Oftentimes, we think we practice slowly, when in reality, we are simply playing comfortably. But Churen described that slow practice should be done at such a degree that you feel every sensation: perceiving every angle of your fingers on the key, feeling the hardness of the key as it descends, and the rapidity of its ascent upon lifting your fingers. This meticulousness would enable one to understand their body. Performance is, after all, as much physical as it is mental. Slow practice could also be seen as a way to understand the physical, linking it to the sounds that proceed from the piano as you move.

The second piece of advice was to learn a new piece each week. This was not necessarily given as advice for pianists, per se; she was mostly telling us her experience studying at Yale under the pianist Peter Frankl, who would demand his students to play a new work each week. 

Stressful as it was, Churen explained that Frankl’s demand taught her how to “practice fast,” how to gain at least a rough outline of a work enough to play it to completion, even if flawed and unmemorized. To Churen, this practice is invaluable, especially reaching an age where responsibilities make it increasingly harder to find time to practice. In these situations, “practicing fast” sometimes becomes the only option. 

The most important value Churen imparts is knowing yourself as a person and an artist. She shows this by exercising her creativity, being aware of her physical and mental states, and finding time to practice her instrument in this busy world.