Stuart Wood
18 February 2002

A long pause. Lac-Hong's face hardens for the fight. "I would definitely call myself a serious musician. I take my music seriously."

Not one week into an album release, and the critics have emerged. In this case, the age-old split between 'classical' and 'pop' music has come back to taunt The Planets as they attempt to introduce their own brand of fusion music to the world. Stung by the allegation that only 'classical' music can be serious, the band's cellist bites back:

"I think it's an unfair and inaccurate term to be used. Not that classical music isn't serious, because it is. And not that I'm not a serious musician because I am serious and passionate about whatever I do. I love classical music as much as I could ever love what I am doing now. Since we're touring with Deep Purple, the implication is that the musicians in Deep Purple aren't serious musicians. That completely insults them."

So there's the raw nerve. And characteristically, this self-effacing musician is ired more by the attack on his fellow musicians than himself. Perhaps his twenty years of training give him some form of buffer, as he goes on to emphasise the high level of skill and commitment required to be a good rock musician: "Guitarist magazine for example has a section which introduces exercises for people, both classical and rock sectionsÉthey have devised their own forms to better people's understanding..."

He could go on. Rock musicians are indeed as skilled as his own breed. Quite clearly, this classically trained scholarship whizz has problem with the orthodox view of his trade. I wonder, then, if music is only as serious as its musicians and listeners?

"Yes. And unfortunately classical music suffers from this stigma that it's an elitist form. Some of the traits which were initially exclusively associated with classical music are now well integrated into rock music. Perhaps the approach is different stylistically and some of the thought processes that are involved but the fact remains that it's not fair to categorise one as a proper form of music over another."

You'd be forgiven for wondering whether this was all carefully honed patter for journalists. The Planets have chosen a tough fight, after all. The story of pop music is littered with bands who took their music, their marketing, or both, into the cold territory between Radio 2 and 3.

In the 70's ELO, SKY and YES enjoyed pioneer success with their own flared versions of classical-pop fusion. Now of course there's a whole Arctic settlement of Bonds, Maes, Garretts and Watsons and a market to go with them. What's audacious about The Planets is that they choose to make music by both 'serious' composers like Ravel and contemporary producer Mike Batt.

But I wonder whether has he always been so open minded. Perhaps there has there been a hint of the partisanship in his training? I ask if there a presumption within classical music that people will spend more time than in the pop world looking at the architecture of phrasing or on scales and exercises? Isn't this a tradition that he feels he belongs to?

"Yes, I definitely belong to that. I have been brought up solely in that style. The truth is that despite all the blessings I've had from classical music, it still has its limitations. For example in the past improvisation was a skill that came with the territory. One of the limitations I've discovered in classical music is that it doesn't push improvisation so much. My teacher Jerome Pernoo encourages it, but pop musicians are more accustomed to it."

Navigating the sensibilities of musicians and composers is fraught, but he does it well. By now the face softens a little, as he comes to some measure of resolution. It can't be easy for this master of tact, a keen lingust who would rather work his fluent french or ropey vietnamese buying dinner in a take-away than battle on in defence of his chosen career.

Perhaps some things lose proportion when they become passions. It's been said that the mark of a fine mind is that it can hold two opposing ideas at the same time. He, unlike his music critics, seems content to do just this.

I sense a need to breathe out. The line of tradition in music is a shadow parallel to family and cultural heritage. It strikes me that this prodigious child who started piano at 5, cello at 7 and played his way through school on a succession of high profile scholarships must have been something of an East Asian mother's dream? He laughs incredulously:

"Actually I was a bit of a nightmare to handle, compared with my siblings. I was the biggest troublemaker. It took me many years to become serious about the cello."

Lac-hong is third son out of four. His parents left the U.S. for Canada in July 1968, when the euphemistically called "American campaign" was still raging in Viet Nam. they went to Canada, not to escape from Viet Nam, but to avoid living in the U.S. Would Lac-Hong be in line for the kind of pressures that many people in his position have in common? How was he aware of these as a child?

"Not so much as a child, but keenly aware of them in my teens. I could see how my parents' wishes were passed onto my older siblings. During those years I was very aware of the pressures that many 2nd generation children deal with: to achieve academically; to prove our worthiness and justify our existence as newcomers in a country; to be perfectionist at everything you did. And in terms of music, there wasn't much emphasis placed on us savouring music, or doing it for the love of it. We had to be the best at it, although we did love it too. I was very aware of my parents' achievements. They are brilliant people. Despite the fact that I rebelled at the time, I was always aware of their abilities."

I remark that the children of people who left their homes for a new country are often fiercely proud of their parents. He glows. What about the historical tradition which extends past his immediate family into Vietnam, and a history he's less aware of?

"For my parents, family has always been important, and a strong sense of Vietnamese identity. I don't speak Vietnamese, and I haven't been to Vietnam, but I have always been aware that I am Vietnamese first."

Here is a real tradition one worth talking about, perhaps. Yet for someone who is so passionate about his Vietnamese identity, what does it look like if he's not been and doesn't speak the language? What is Vietnam about for him?

"I'm not always aware of it. I grew up in a Francophone school, and there weren't many Vietnamese. But they ostracised us from the community. The Vietnamese made me aware by their rejection. The way it creeps up nowadays is in situations like when there aren't many orientals around and I suddenly realise I'm the only one. When I do meet a Vietnamese person I do make a connection. I develop this sense of identity."

"In Canada when people ask where I'm from, I say I'm Vietnamese. In England, I say I'm Canadian. My approach is different. Depending on where I am, my attitude changes. People's approaches affect how I think about myself."

Which brings us back to The Planets. Born and raised an 'ethnic minority' in his home town, Moncton, Canada, he's now the only non-white face in the band. It comes as no surprise that this has been treated as a marketing opportunity for when they come to break Asia.

Basically here we have a South East Asian man in a white workplace. This seems not to have figured highly, and comes as something of a surprise when I point it out. He's quick to stress that he has experienced no racist abuse or in fact any attention at all by virtue of his ethnicity except for a few jibes about being Canadian. But it need not be something bad. Has he perhaps anything to teach them through his Vietnamese lens?

And for once I draw a blank. Food, perhaps, or the language. Like so many others in his position, his tact wins out. If pressed, I know I could draw out new ideas about what is really cool about being Vietnamese, what's important about mealtimes, family or new year. Better, even than how others do it. But tonight The Planets are harmonious.

There's a lot to orbit this particular Planet. Child of Vietnamese parents but raised in Canada; trained in classical music but selling pop; an overseas figure in a British band. So where is his centre? I wonder what, in the midst of these various forces, stays the same?

"There are dualities playing a role in my life. The only place where they don't is in my relationship with my fiancée. That's the one anchor I have. There's also family long distance, and friends who don't judge me, but home is what I cherish the most. The centre is my love."

And he smiles.

The Planets' debut album 'Classical Grafitti' is released on 18th February under EMI Classics.