When pianist I-Lin Tsai left Taiwan in 2012 to study music in the United States, she didn’t yet realize she was beginning a thirteen-year journey that would become the foundation of her newest album, Building Bridges.
What began as an academic pursuit — earning her bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral degrees in piano performance — gradually transformed into a story of identity, resilience, and belonging. Building Bridges is more than an album; it’s a musical autobiography that connects two homelands, two traditions, and two versions of herself.
“Taiwan gave me my roots, America gave me my wings,” Tsai says with a calm smile. “This album is how those two worlds finally meet in one voice.”
A Musical Map Across Continents
Released in 2025, Building Bridges is a sixteen-track piano solo album inspired by real places — from Taiwan’s Palace Museum and Sun Moon Lake to America’s White House and Golden Gate Bridge. Each composition reflects not only a physical landmark but also an emotional landscape.
“The whole idea,” Tsai explains, “was to turn geography into music — to let each place tell its own story through sound. I didn’t want to write about buildings or tourist sites; I wanted to write about what they felt like.”
The result is a musical map that begins in the East and ends in the West, but the throughline is deeply personal. The album’s opening track, Palace Museum: Scrolls of Time, begins with a grand B-flat major chord — what Tsai calls “the sound of morning sunlight.” The flowing lines that follow represent threads connecting dynasties and generations, a sonic metaphor for memory and heritage.
“Every time I think of the Palace Museum, I think of time — how everything old is still alive in the present. That’s what I tried to express with those long, continuous phrases,” she says.
Bridging Cultures Through Sound
Tsai’s approach to composition is rooted in both her Taiwanese upbringing and her years of Western conservatory training. Her music blends pentatonic modes with impressionist harmony — a conversation between Debussy and Li Huanzhi, between the resonance of Asian temple bells and the precision of Western counterpoint.
In Jade Mountain: Ascent to Jade, she captures the natural vitality of Taiwan’s highest peak. “You can almost hear the wind and the birds,” she says. “I was thinking about the Taiwan Blue Magpie and how its call sounds both wild and elegant. That’s what I wanted the music to feel like — untamed but graceful.”
By contrast, Taipei 101: Skyward Aspirations mirrors the city’s modern skyline with a minimalist rhythmic pulse and ascending harmonies that evoke architecture and progress. “It’s my love letter to Taipei,” she adds. “I wanted to show how tradition and innovation can live in the same sound.”
When the album transitions to its American half, the tone evolves but the spirit remains. The White House: We the People is warm, human, and quietly powerful. Instead of the ceremonial grandeur often associated with national anthems, Tsai’s interpretation feels deeply personal.
“It’s not a piece about politics,” she explains. “It’s about people — the house as a symbol of home, of hope, of voices that have struggled and grown together. It’s about empathy, not authority.”
While the album’s concept spans continents, its structure feels cinematic — unfolding like a journey from dawn to dusk. There are moments of stillness (Sun Moon Lake: Mirror of Two Heavens) where time seems suspended, and moments of motion (Golden Gate Bridge: Across the Fog) where rhythm becomes the city’s heartbeat.
“Sound is movement,” Tsai says. “Even when it’s slow, it’s moving. I think that’s how life works too — we’re always in transition between where we were and where we’re going.”
In Golden Gate Bridge: Across the Fog, she finds her closing statement — a piece that blends jazz harmonies with lyrical phrasing, embodying San Francisco’s creative spirit. The city’s signature orange hue — her favorite color — shines through her playing.
“It’s quirky and warm, just like San Francisco,” she laughs. “And at the end, I let the music fade into silence, like a bridge disappearing into fog — but still holding strong underneath.”
The album was recorded entirely on a Steinway grand piano, chosen for its clarity and resonance. Each track was designed for solo performance — no synthesizers, percussion, or electronic layering. “I wanted the piano to speak alone,” Tsai says. “It’s the only instrument that could hold both the East and the West inside one voice.”
The process was meditative. “I recorded it like writing a diary,” she explains. “Every morning, I’d sit and play a place — sometimes it took hours, sometimes just one take. I didn’t want perfection. I wanted sincerity.”
That sincerity permeates the project — from the music to the minimalist album cover she designed herself. “Design and music are the same for me,” she says. “They’re both about balance, proportion, and emotion.”
Now living and teaching in San Jose, Tsai has spent over a decade in the United States — but her identity, she says, is not divided between East and West. It’s merged.
“I think of my life like a bridge that’s still under construction,” she reflects. “It takes time, patience, and people to cross it. But the more I build, the more I realize — it’s not about finishing it. It’s about walking across it every day.”
Her students often ask her what Building Bridges means. She answers them simply: “It means gratitude. Gratitude for the places that raised me, for the people who believed in me, and for the instrument that connects them all.”
Learn more
For more information on I-Lin Tsai, including performances, videos, and album streaming links, visit ilintsai.com, listen on Apple Music and Spotify, and follow her on YouTube (@i-lintsai).
