The first movement: Poem of Awakening (53): Field of Fox Lily (2-in-1)
"Poem of Awakening", preface, "Fanghui Poet"'s summer wake-up call.
The sound of the trumpet opens the prologue of the "Third Symphony", which is the key base of the climbing path, the lowest form of the world, and the prelude to the development of the "initial" stage of life.
Without any accompaniment, the brass pipe is simply venting, but it also has a gentle metallic feel. It is the brass pipe that is most like a woodwind in character.
The rhythm is like a sonorous step, and the notes throughout the piece are marked with a strong ">" sign, but the melody is based on a tragic minor key, with a tragic and tragic tone in the majesty.
This is completely different in style from Fanning's first two symphonies, so much so that no one can relate to it, but they are consistent in their results: the opening is impressive and directly penetrates the soul.
"This melody?..."
"Isn't there any strange way of writing? The rhythm pattern is so simple, without any changes, not even accompaniment. Why does it sound so direct..."
Several music directors, major investors, and hospital executives who auditioned were all speechless on the spot, starting to express their inner thoughts but unable to find adjectives to continue the description.
The crude and blunt interpretation of this oppositional vocabulary is like drinking strong alcohol on an empty stomach, causing pain in the esophagus and stomach and making the heart beat more powerfully.
Some people began to look back at the composer's name on the first page of the score, which had not been their focus before.
"Winter—winter!————"
In the second half of the theme progression, bassoons, trombones, tubas, string instruments and percussion began to sound downward fifth-degree vibration notes in unison, just like imitating the sound of drumming by primitive tribesmen.
The sound of the trumpet gradually increased as the theme progressed.
"Look!
!”
When it reaches its highest point, the musician hits the big cymbal and the melody falls downward.
"Reveille" is just a preview before awakening, and the music returns to darkness and silence.
A short section of gloomy column chords connects the dull and slow unison ups and downs of the wind instruments.
This is called "mysterious motivation".
The mysterious tone represents "inanimate matter", but metaphorically speaking, it refers to "the person before entering the door".
Just like Fan Ning himself, the creator.
In other words, only by first recognizing yourself before entering the door can you understand yourself after passing through the door.
This musical vocabulary is strange in Fan Ning's discussion. The gnosis from the glow has not yet illuminated this wasteland, and Walter cannot yet understand Huita, but he can at least present the music itself faithfully.
So what everyone heard was a fragmented texture that did not form a true melody. The only tendency was a colorful depiction led by the French horn at extremely low intensity.
Low string sounds emerge from all directions, creating a mysterious substance like the darkness of the night - strange, terrifying but great, and the phantom of gnosis is just like a veil at the moment.
Frankly speaking, this is just my first time playing together.
Walter naturally knew that many of the beats were missed, the intensity was too straightforward, and the refined expression terminology had not yet been developed, but the initial changes in the audience had already occurred strongly.
"Is this inspiration? This is the world of high inspiration?"
Many big investors or hospital bosses are just arty or have administrative qualifications. They have never experienced this "illusion" in their lives - maybe it is an illusion - when did their perception of music details become so strong?
It was just a hasty rehearsal!
It was a reversal and change in a certain dull state of spirituality. They felt that compared with this moment, their previous state could not be considered open eyes at all. Although everywhere was filled with vibrations from ether to astral bodies, the world at that time was dark.
It is as silent as ice, and now, even the least inspired person can realize that there seems to be something mysterious and powerful resurrecting in the void.
Walter held the baton in his fingers and carefully stroked it in the air.
The faint triplets of the timpani continued to beat.
"Hum." Walter signaled the bassoon and bassoon to take the beat.
They blow out a mellow bass melody with smooth lines and vibrato.
This is an ode to pastoral poetry, humming for a section, then resting for a section, and the cycle repeats.
"Dawn." Walter's eyes passed over another part of the score.
At the same time as the second hum appears, the flute and single yellow pipe enter the beat.
The two-note high octave jumps in, and the morning light breaks through the clouds, bringing dawn.
"Lust!" He pointed to the trumpet.
The musicians followed immediately and roughly, blowing the four notes of re, fa, la, and #do on the gel membrane, and hovering over the most dissonant and sensually exciting #do.
"Humming."
The bassoon's praise of the pastoral scenery started again.
"Season moves!" He glanced at the viola part of the score with his peripheral vision.
A gray D minor chord tremolo was played from the front left of the rehearsal hall.
"Lust." "Hum."
When the two opposing motives reappeared in the tremolo, their positions were subtly interchanged.
The musicians felt something cracked in the air.
And the six or seven people watching the rehearsal were completely dumbfounded.
With their lifetime experience, they didn’t know that symphonic poems could be written like this or written like this.
What kind of song is this!? Some people are yelling filial piety in their hearts like a cassette tape.
"Ascension."
Walter's eyes were as bright as fire, his inner rhythm was advancing accurately, and he made a gesture with his right hand, waving it upward.
The cello and double bass, which had been silent for a long time, played an extremely fast upward 7-note scale with fff intensity, and then suddenly became stagnant, pulling down the third note.
“Da da da da da da da/ta————da————da————”
Welcome new life from the breath of complete stillness.
"Hammer!"
The last sound, the timpani, the big and small snare drums and the brass hammered cruelly, and the new life was ruthlessly killed, and the living flesh began to rot in the soil.
"Lust!" The trumpet takes over the pain with violence.
“re/fa/la/#do!——————”
Both the musician and the listener felt that a force smashed down from the side of their heads, crushing another force.
Its aggression is not directed at itself, but like... the transparent glass that seals itself and the space here.
The glass is shattering.
"dawn."
Walter directed the voices one after another to advance into the beat, and the flute and single yellow pipe once again pierced the clouds upward.
"Lust." "Seasonal Movement."
The trombone played a dissonant D-minor seventh chord, and the string tremolo began to spread to each violin part.
"Hum." "Ascend." "Hammer!" Bassoon, bass strings and drums are arranged in sequence.
In the first round of rehearsal ensemble, with many flaws, Walter could never have imagined that he could have this feeling.
He felt that his spiritual platform was clear and gradually getting better, even approaching the point of exhaustion.
"This kind of awakening is the awakening from unfathomable dead silence to notes and harmony, but the awakening of the Lord of Witness is probably not all of the teacher's deep inner title. It is a metaphor for the more essential 'something from nothing'
Fundamental change is a great move to successfully break through from the most primitive and chaotic world..."
"I feel the 'basin', and I can definitely see the base of the Huita. The teacher is trying to explore a mysterious and significant 'road to climb' through musical works. No one can just think of him as a person."
A thoughtful and subtle singer of nature, the latter is highly regarded, but to him it is extremely narrow..."
In the third minute, Walter actually felt that his spirituality had been sublimated.
Just one time away from dreaming!
He once had a solid accumulation in the church in his hometown. Today, in his travel career, a high-ranking realm is already within sight!
The tonality is changing silently, and the theme of the "March of Elegy" is continued by Fan Ning using French horns and trumpets. The intervals jump up and down, the rhythm is stiff, and the cold and violent characteristics become more and more obvious.
"Kacha——" The cracks of something invisible are spreading in the air.
The music director of the Akobe Symphony Orchestra was stunned.
"this……"
In normal times, he would have quickly changed his attitude and decided to replace this piece with a more formal one, knowing how to calculate benefits. But now, he has lost his ability to think.
All the few passions in the old body were forcibly extracted, and then quickly surrendered to another passion.
Like petals and leaves blown up by the wind.
"Dawn." "Lust!——"
Under Walter's control, some inspirations of violence and pastoral poetry are connected back and forth, some are parallel at the same time, and some are alternately circulated. They are explored, evolved, and advanced with strange and complex rhythms, tense sounds, and extremely profound laws.
…
Just like an ancient ritual controlled by some mysterious power.
"Ji Dong!" "Hum Ming——"
Morning light and pastoral poetry still sing without interruption.
"Ascension."
The upward scale of the cello and double bass went from 7-tuplet, to 8-tuplet, and then to 10-tuplet, and the wind and string sections experienced a roller coaster-like slide.
“Hammer!
"
The moment the bass drummer at the back dropped his hammer, he suddenly felt something strange in the sky, as if something burst of color, and a bunch of flying things fell down...
"What a spectacle!
"
On a hillside in the Fox Lily Field, Fan Ning held his guitar in his arms, looked into the distance and sighed, the summer wind ruffling his clothes.
An finally put on the T-shirt and shorts she usually felt more comfortable in. She squatted aside and pressed her forehead against a bunch of fox lilies at her feet.
Even if you look at a bunch alone, you can see that it has a unique flower shape. Its petals are rolled back and the edges of the petals bloom in a wavy shape. The bright and elegant color is like a burning flame.
And looking out at the wilderness, small clouds are floating slowly, like smooth knotted white silk threads tying the bluestone-like sky with knots. The sun is flashing across the towering mountains, and the orange and peach red light spots are like foam floating,
The changing colors of the fox lilies from white to red are like a sea of life pouring into the rolling mountains.
"Teacher, do you like it?" An changed from squatting to sitting on the floor. She stretched and untied the rope that bound her hair.
"I can hear them talking." Fan Ning smiled sadly as usual.
The wind blows through the mountains and flowers fly all over the sky.
The aroma comes from the wind, which makes people panic and itching to find the culprit that provoked them.
"Really? What do the flowers in the field tell you?"
"Maybe the next movement."
"Next movement?" Miss Nightingale blinked in disbelief, "Is the "Awakening Poem" you gave Mr. Walter just an incomplete work?"
"Teacher, is this going to be a problem?" Luna, who was holding a black umbrella on the other side, spoke worriedly, "You said you wrote it in a hurry and haven't refined it properly. It was a temporary change and you only had one day to rehearse.
Time, you yourself have not given any guidance, and besides, this is still an incomplete work..."
At this moment, their senior brother Walter should be working in the rehearsal hall of the Grand Concert Hall.
"There's definitely no problem." An's expression was relaxed and confident, "'Fanghui Poet' will be fully awake at tonight's concert. Teacher, I want to say happy midsummer to you now. This is the flower gift season in the South every year.
I will tell you the blessings that will come if I can in the future."
"Thank you, and I wish you happiness." Fan Ning still looked into the distance, "Luna, continue telling us the origin story of 'Fanghui Poet'."
"Oh, okay." Luna raised the booklet in her hand again, "Actually, this most classic version of the story is almost over."
"In the most mainstream sect of the church, she is usually considered to be the son of the 'Primary Eater', the lord of ancient witnesses. According to teachings, the 'Primal Eater' has the same origin as the world, masters the secret of devouring, and devouring and birth are at a certain time.
The species are one in degree, so the eater is allowed to give birth to himself..." From this sentence, the "Fanghui Poet" may be the other side or the new self of the "original eater", so they are all related to "Chi"
related……"
Fan Ning nodded slightly: "Then let's tell the next story."
During this time, he had already transferred the necessary hidden knowledge to these two students by arranging protective rituals in the Qiming Church, and began to practice basic dream control techniques.
Generally speaking, this version of the origin document occupies the mainstream and is quite authoritative, but there are still some doubts. For example, according to the "new self" theory, "Fanghui Poet" and "Primary Eater" should have the same origin, but the latter
It is a world source god, but the former seems to be a matter source god; and according to the 'son' theory, it seems difficult to explain the natural evil effect of kinship. Of course, the fertility law of the world source god may be very different from the fertility law understood by ordinary creatures.
Far.
Luna put the booklet in her hand into her bag and began to explore for a new booklet:
"In Misin City and the surrounding islands, which are mainly on the plains, another sect of the church calls the 'Fanghui Poet' 'Pan'. She is considered to be a shepherd who is always half asleep and half awake on weekdays. She is in charge of
The realm of 'pool' includes mountains, countryside, shepherds and the power of nature. It also symbolizes violence, vitality, creativity and... sex. Well, it is also closely related to panic, restlessness or erotic dreams..."
"The third story." Fan Ning, who was standing in the incense breeze, straightened her messy long hair and nodded again: "Ann, tell us, what have you done with the oil painting given by Master Lucter in the past two days?
Research."
"'Apollo and Mathias'." Miss Nightingale, sitting among the fox lilies, slowly unfolded the scroll from the backpack in front of her.
"Oil on canvas, 29.5x40 cm, painted in the 1980s by the Southern Continent's romantic oil painting master Ribera Joséin. This work reproduces the scene where the 'Son of the Forest' Macias is being skinned——"
An Zai slowly narrated it to the two of them. Just as she was about to give a preliminary appreciation of the picture, her voice stopped suddenly.
The three of them all raised their heads with a feeling and looked at Tia City in the southeast direction from which they came in the early morning.
“Kacha!
"
It was as if they realized that what was surrounding them was not air, but glass.
And now, the glass is broken.
The rain of petals fell from the sky one after another, and was blown up and danced all over the sky by the warm and fragrant wind.
And in the direction of Tiya City, a huge pink light pillar suddenly rose into the sky and went straight into the sky!