Musician explores identity through a black cat and jazz

A black cat wanders through a mysterious city under attack by a monstrous creature. Lost and seemingly powerless, it eventually encounters other cats. Together, they fight back, suffer losses and, against the odds, emerge victorious.

The story, told in the animated music video for Lost Cat, one of the eight original compositions on Chinese jazz drummer and composer Xu Zhitong's debut album, might sound like a familiar fairy tale. But for Xu, the black cat is more than a fictional protagonist. It is a reflection of his own journey through uncertainty, isolation and the search for identity.

"I wanted to create a piece with a strong narrative, something that tells a story," Xu says. "The black cat gets lost, faces difficulties and eventually overcomes them. What I hope to convey is that people don't need to be too preoccupied with difficulties or the outcome. What's important is having the courage to begin."

That combination of emotional storytelling and instrumental interplay lies at the heart of the album, titled Unfettered Hope, which will be released on Nov 20 by Xu's ensemble, Zhitong Xu. X SHAPE.

More than a collection of contemporary jazz compositions, the album is a musical autobiography of sorts, tracing the experiences of a musician who left China as a teenager, spent a decade immersed in Europe's jazz scene and eventually returned home to reconsider what it means to have a voice of his own.

Now 32 and based in Shanghai, Xu describes the record as his first real introduction to himself as a composer.

Although he has participated in numerous recording projects, this is the first album built around his own compositions. In putting it together, he began thinking not only about individual melodies and arrangements, but also about how the eight pieces might form a connected story.

"Previously, when writing music, I was more concerned with the musical feelings themselves," he says. "When I started planning the album, I wanted to give it a narrative, almost like a fairy tale for adults."

The story begins with Cedar, a warm, intimate composition dedicated to his father, a rock drummer who introduced him to music.

Xu began piano lessons at 4 and took up drums at 7. His father, Xu Xuesong, recognized his son's natural sense of rhythm and encouraged him to pursue percussion. A childhood recording of their interaction became part of the composition: a grown man's voice responding to the sounds of a very young child who had not yet learned to speak.

The recording appears throughout the piece, creating an unusual musical conversation between father and son across time.

Xu Zhitong wrote Cedar during a touring trip in Paris, just a week before the album recording sessions in Munich. The composition came together in a day or two, but the emotional process was far less straightforward.

"It is the only piece I have written that actually made me cry," he says. "I knew very clearly what I wanted to express. As I was writing, I became increasingly moved."

There is one person who has yet to hear it: his father.

Xu Zhitong says he has kept the recording from him, hoping to present it as a surprise when the album comes out.

The composition also brings the story back to the beginning of Xu Zhitong's musical education. His childhood was shaped by rock music, and he later played in rock bands before turning to jazz as he prepared to study abroad. His father, he says, understood that different instruments suited different personalities.

Xu Zhitong and his twin brother, Xu Zhihan, who is also a jazz musician, share an introverted temperament, but their musical inclinations differ. His brother gravitated toward guitar, while Xu Zhitong found a more natural fit behind the drums.

At 17, Xu Zhitong left China for Germany, beginning what would become a decade of study and artistic exploration. At the time, he recalls, music occupied almost his entire world. Young and relatively carefree, he was fascinated by everything unfamiliar.

But as his studies progressed, particularly during his postgraduate years, a new question emerged: what did he actually want to say through music?

The answer gradually took shape through his growing awareness of his Chinese background.

Initially, Xu Zhitong approached this question quite directly, experimenting with adaptations of Chinese music and incorporating traditional instruments into jazz. Over time, however, he became more interested in something less obvious: how an Eastern sensibility might find expression within a Western musical language.

"Looking back, those years in Germany were very important to my growth, although I didn't fully realize it at the time," he says. "I gradually developed a sense of responsibility and belonging toward my own culture."

He describes the process as one of internalization rather than simply adding Chinese elements to jazz. For him, Eastern aesthetics often favor restraint and subtlety, qualities that can be expressed through composition, phrasing and musical choices without necessarily relying on traditional instruments.

Most of the album's compositions were written in 2018, when Xu Zhitong was establishing his ensemble in Germany. Remarkably, the pieces have remained largely unchanged since then, apart from the opening and closing tracks, written later.

The musicians who helped bring them to life were not strangers recruited for a recording session. Alto saxophonist Jan Prax, tenor saxophonist Moritz Stahl and double bassist Nils Kugelmann were Xu Zhitong's classmates and friends. He chose them because he admired their playing and could already imagine their individual sounds while composing.

The quartet's musical relationship began to take shape around 2017, when Xu Zhitong was studying in Munich.

"For me, there was a strong musical connection and a friendship that grew very naturally," says Stahl. "Over the years, we've developed a sense of trust and familiarity that allows us to communicate almost intuitively through music."

That familiarity is particularly important in a genre that relies on improvisation and the ability to respond spontaneously to other musicians.

Kugelmann says the trust they have developed allows them to take risks and explore musical ideas without overthinking them. Although the four musicians now live on different continents and cannot perform together as frequently as they would like, he believes the excitement of making music together has not diminished.

Xu Zhitong shares that feeling. "When the four of us play this music together, there is a sense of security," he says. "It allows the character of the music to come through more fully. It doesn't matter how much time has passed. As long as these are the people playing, the feeling is still there."

For Prax, the ensemble's appeal also lies in the distinctive character of Xu Zhitong's compositions.

"I really love his fresh and individual approach to drumming," says Prax. "I enjoy playing his music because it's so unique, bringing together different musical and cultural influences."

Those influences are audible in the compositions, says Stahl, who recognizes traces of Xu Zhitong's Chinese upbringing and folk music alongside his fascination with jazz from the 1960s and '70s and contemporary developments in the genre.

Stahl singles out the title track, Unfettered Hope, for its gradual development: Xu Zhitong begins playing alone before inviting the other musicians into the composition.

"It feels very gentle, almost affectionate, and creates such a natural sense of togetherness," Stahl adds.

The idea of connection across different experiences also informs A Comfort for the Soul, whose title draws on a line from the Song Dynasty (960-1279) poet Su Shi: "Life is like an inn for travelers; I, too, am merely passing through."

The composition was inspired by the idea of friendship and the comfort of encountering a few people who understand you along life's uncertain journey. For Xu Zhitong, it also reflects the bond among the four musicians, whose different cultural backgrounds have become a source of creative exchange.

His return to China, after a decade in Germany, brought another period of adjustment. Five years on, he sees the experience of coming home as just as formative as his time abroad. The distance allowed him to look at his cultural roots from a different perspective, while the later years in Germany had increasingly become, in his words, a process of proving himself.

He was determined not to change his way of playing or composing simply to fit expectations. Whatever musical language he used, he felt that his work would inevitably carry the perspective of a Chinese musician.

This growing confidence is perhaps most evident in the album's title track, which Xu Zhitong describes as his favorite composition among his works.

The Chinese title, Xiao Yao Pan (Unfettered Hope), combines the idea of living freely with an active sense of anticipation for the future. For Xu Zhitong, freedom is not the same as drifting through life without direction or ambition.

"Being unfettered doesn't mean having no expectations of yourself, or simply being relaxed all the time," he says. "It's more about a state of mind — being able to live freely while still having the energy and desire to move forward."

That instinct toward warmth also shapes his approach to audiences.

Jazz, Xu Zhitong acknowledges, can sometimes feel inaccessible to listeners unfamiliar with its language. He is wary of an attitude he has encountered among musicians who believe that if audiences cannot understand the music, they simply should not listen.

"I don't have that kind of personality," he says. "I want the music to be inclusive and warm. Even if you don't understand jazz at first, we can offer something that interests you and perhaps encourages you to embrace it."

The album closes with Twilight, a composition conceived as a gentle, luminous farewell. Its title was inspired in part by Xu Zhitong's given name, Tong, and its association with the soft light of early morning. He wanted the final piece to feel warm and embracing, like light gradually illuminating the world.