752. The first composition under the moon Qin Jian Nocturne in g minor op.1
It was already evening when the plane arrived in Warsaw, and the Bulgari Hotel had reopened to the public.
When the organizer brought Qin Jian back to the hotel, the entire hotel was no longer as deserted as it had been a few days ago.
The Qin Jian championship poster hanging in the hotel lobby has not yet been removed, and several young tourists waiting to check in are taking photos with Qin Jian in the newspaper.
Little did they know that when they took a photo with the poster, the real person on the poster was passing by them.
An endless stream of travelers came and went in a hurry, but no one noticed the appearance of a tall young man wearing a hat and mask.
After getting out of the elevator and returning to the room, Qin Jian threw down his suitcase and got into the bathroom.
The compact concert trip for four consecutive days was not mentally taxing, but the continuous flight journey still made him feel physically exhausted.
Thinking of those performers who give hundreds of concerts around the world a year, it's no wonder that being a professional performer is a physical job.
Now that I think about it, it’s really true. Not only does physical work, but half of the sleep has to be replenished at an altitude of one thousand meters.
"call----"
After taking a hot bath to relieve fatigue, Qin Jian felt much more comfortable.
I called He Jing and the two siblings chatted for a long time.
He Jing had already begun preparations for the end-of-year concert. Qin Jian asked He Jing how the work going back to Rochester was going, and He Jing told her that everything was going well.
Qin Jian was relieved. He Jing's concern was nothing more than Qin Jian's schedule these days.
Although the two communicated daily on WeChat from time to time, she was always worried. Even if she received Qin Jian's safety report, she would still be worried.
This is my sister.
"Sister." Qin Jian told He Jing about reporting on the concert.
He Jing didn't have much reaction after hearing this. She just asked him to prepare carefully, "You take time to call home tomorrow morning. Teacher Qin was still talking about you on the phone yesterday."
"I understand, don't worry, sister."
After hanging up the phone, Qin Jian planned his plans for the next two days.
The date to return to China is right around the corner, and apart from the interview on the morning of the 31st, he has nothing else to do in the meantime.
"Tomorrow we can start preparing for the concert on the 6th."
...
October 30th.
Warsaw time 08:14 am, Yanjing time 14:14 pm.
The first thing Qin Jian did after getting up was to pick up the cell phone beside his pillow and call Qin Gang.
On the other end of the phone, Qin Gang drove to school.
The father and son were drinking tea in the office and walking around in the hotel room.
We chatted for nearly half an hour.
...
Qin Gang first complained to his son.
Ever since he and Fang Xuehua returned to Yangcheng, they seemed to have suddenly become celebrities.
But he is just an ordinary primary school music teacher. He only said a few words in front of reporters when he took the Yangcheng No. 2 Primary School Chorus to Nan City to participate in a singing competition held by a TV station and win the prize a few years ago.
Now that he has arrived, he is overwhelmed with interviews and visits every now and then.
But this is bittersweet. Now that my son is famous, he will naturally be happy to be a father.
When faced with reporters' questions about Qin Jian's growth, he did not exaggerate. He told reporters realistically:
"Qin Jian's talent as a child was only better than that of his peers, and he was not honest when practicing piano as a child. He always tried his best to be lazy."
Qin Gang attributed more of the success of Qin Jian's piano education to He Jing. He told reporters, "Qin Jian's role model for learning piano has always been his sister. His sister has been strict in all aspects since she graduated and returned to Nanshi.
he."
When a reporter asked him what his expectations for Qin Jian's future development were, Qin Gang said:
"How far he can go is up to him. His mother and I are just two ordinary people. We can't give him any profound life guidance."
"As parents, we can only say that we hope that he can gain enough gains and experience in this process."
"Making money or becoming famous and starting a family was not my original intention for him to learn music."
"As long as he likes it, he can just keep playing."
Reporter: "So do you have any other personal requirements for him (Qin Jian)?"
Qin Gang: "I hope he can devote some of his energy to other aspects of study in the future. He is still a college student. He still has a long way to go. There are some things that cannot be learned in music."
"When he sees some issues more comprehensively from his perspective, I think he will be able to better plan his future life."
...
Just as Qin Gang said in an interview with a reporter from Nanshi Morning Post, he has no special requirements for Qin Jian's future development, but he hopes that Qin Jian can focus more on self-improvement in the future.
Whether it's music or life.
At the end of the phone call, Qin Gang told Qin Jian: "Your mother and I recently took a fancy to a 130 house in Yanshan Mansion. Although it is a second-hand house, we saw the house the day before yesterday. It was 90% new and well decorated. The day after tomorrow we
Just pay the deposit, and we can celebrate the Chinese New Year in our new home this year.”
...
After hanging up the phone, Qin Jian felt even more homesick.
My father's words are always plain and simple, and make people feel warm and at ease.
He transferred the 270,000 converted from the Chopin Competition prize money to Qin Gang's account, and kept a small change for himself.
Then he wanted to send a message to Qin Gang to say that this was what he wanted, but after thinking about the other party's temper, he directly changed it to: 'Save this bonus for me'
Then he washed up and left the room and went to the restaurant. After breakfast, he rushed to the Warsaw Concert Hall.
Morning exercise begins.
...
He spent the next day sorting out and practicing the songs on the three playlists.
To be honest, just because a performer wins the Chopin Prize does not mean that he can perform all Chopin's works to perfection.
Qin Jian felt that his understanding of some pieces of music was not deep enough.
For example, in the Third Ballade, he felt that his performance was not as good as Rachel's, and in Mazurka No. 17, Edmundo's overall arrangement sounded more coherent than his.
But fortunately, these can all be solved by taking time.
At the end, he made a list of problems with several tracks, which he will solve before the 6th after returning to China.
...
At noon on the 31st, Qin Jian rushed to the recording site of Polish TV and participated in the recording of Polish TV's "Behind Xiao Sai" program.
He didn't feel much about the recording of TV programs, and mostly cooperated with the program team to promote some stories about Chopin and the Chopin Competition.
Also participating with him was Edmundo. During the entire recording process, there was no gap between the two of them.
At the request of the program, the two also collaborated on a mazurka.
Their cooperation is particularly tacit.
After recording the program, Qin Jian and Edmundo left each other's contact information. Before leaving, Qin Jian welcomed Edmundo to come to China to hold a concert.
"Everyone will like your playing."
Edmundo told him that he would definitely go if he had the chance.
...
After finishing the entire Chopin competition schedule, at 19:00 in the evening, Qin Jian rushed to the Chopin International Airport with his luggage fully loaded and escorted by the organizer of the competition.
The people who saw him off were Paroken and a translator.
And Igraz.
19:34.
When flying off the ground, Qin Jian looked at the shrinking city outside the window under the night.
It was like one scene after another this year flashed before my eyes.
His heart was calm, but he was not at peace either.
But no matter what, his stop is over.
"Goodbye, Warsaw."
...
The plane shot out of the sky and flew to the next world.