“Has the arranger come in? Has the question been passed on?” Zhang Ruojun lowered his head and played the piano music out of tune, feeling distracted.
He had studied piano and had been exposed to professional music theory. With this confidence he dared to come to “Singer-Songwriter”. Just being exposed to it and being able to answer questions in the exam room were two different things.
It had been an hour since the question was given, and everyone else had begun to compose the theme song. Some of them hummed the composed music, some played with instruments, and some pondered the lyrics. But he seemed to be pretending to be the speculator in this story. He couldn’t be seen in group activities. When he performed alone, he exposed himself.
“I didn’t expect that Ke Yinong could really compose. When did he learn it? This year? As a result…I am the only one left now.” Zhang Ruojun looked at the door. There was still no movement on the music score that was supposed to be delivered. Could it be that there was a flaw in the plan and it couldn’t get in?
Although he looked calm on the face, Zhang Ruojun felt guilty and short of breath at the moment. He and his team did not expect that the recording location would be changed, nor did they expect that the three themes this time would be about ‘youth’ and ‘dream’. The music scores he had memorized before were all in vain, and outside help could no longer reach him, then he…
“Wow, this piece of music is very nice. It has a tranquil and leisurely pastoral feel.” Beiyou came out with a cup of coffee to get some air, and happened to see An Yinong holding the guitar, so she walked over.
The small book next to him has already had some of his inspirations, which are all song fragments. But Beiyou, a professional, discovered the characteristics of these tunes at a glance: “Pentatonic scales? You want to compose Chinese-style music?”
The so-called pentatonic scales meant composing music using the five tones of Gong, Hui, Shang, Yu, and Jiao, which correspond to 1, 2, 3, 5, and 6 in current music notation. The music created using these five tones had a more classical feel, so it sounded more “national”.
“Da da da…” She tapped her fingertips on the table while humming.
Zhang Ruojun, who was not far away, raised his head. Beiyou simply hummed, but it seemed to bring people into the delicate and tender world of music. When you close your eyes, you can feel the warmth of the sun, the clarity of the stream, and the tranquility of standing in a quiet small village and watching the smoke curling up from the cooking pots.
Hometown, wilderness, free wind. In the countryside, shepherd boys, the sound of flutes on the backs of cows. There was also a cat lying in the corner basking in the sun. This was a piece of music where one can feel the “poetic” feeling without using any words. It removed all the glitz and revealed a peaceful feeling.
Beiyou, who also had an outstanding talent for composing, was delighted when she saw Xie Xin. She hummed over and over again for a while: “Your poetry contains the pastoral scenery and the melancholy of looking at your hometown in the distance. But there is only a little melancholy, and it is more a feeling of freedom.”
“Pick the flower buds in early spring, step through the creek in midsummer, caress the maple leaves in late autumn, and see the snow on the peak… running through the four seasons, crossing time and space at will, everything you see is painting, picked up casually It’s all poetry.”
An Yinong’s eyes also became gentle, and the smile at the corner of his mouth was warm, as if he had found a soulmate: “This is the life I want. A peaceful place, opening the window is a picture of nature, and I have a cat at home. With a dog, there is a wake-up service every morning.
“I usually live alone, drink tea and listen to music, and go to nearby villages to experience the fireworks of the world. When I return home, it is a different world. I can also invite friends to visit, play and sing with my guitar under the eaves, and think about my shortcomings.”
There was yearning in his eyes. The owner of that video recorded life by writing poetry, so he sang and wrote songs. Perhaps it was his sincere emotion that created the quality of this music piece.
“It’s not easy to match the words.” Beiyou liked this piece of music so much that she couldn’t think of words that could match it. She felt that any words would destroy this tranquility.
“By the way, do you want to use any instrument?”
An Yinong nodded: “I have an idea. I want to use the flute as the main instrument, and add low strings later. The clear flute and the deep strings can form a contrast, and the repeated rotation of the main melody can deepen the reluctance and expectation for the poetic life in dreams and also increase the tension of the song and enhance the atmosphere.”
“I really want to travel to the day after tomorrow and listen to the complete song.” The more Beiyou listened, the more she liked it. She couldn’t bear to put down the piece of paper. “Can you let me listen to it after you finish writing it?”
“Of course.” An Yinong said.
Beiyou looked at it for a while, and pondered over the piece of paper for a long time: “It’s a very unique and spiritual song, completely different from mine.”
An Yinong raised his head, but before he could ask, Beiyou wrote a string of notes on the paper: “I figured this out. Please help me take a look. I always feel that something is lacking.” This eldest sister really didn’t shy away from anything and was frank.
An Yinong looked at it and even strummed it on the guitar. It was a relaxed and cheerful tune, as comfortable as sitting under the shade of a tree in midsummer, holding half a watermelon, listening to the cicadas and frogs.
There was no doubt that the theme chosen by Beiyou was also ‘poetic life’, but the way she expressed it was completely different.
“If Sister Youyou doesn’t mind…”
Before he could finish speaking, Beiyou said directly: “I don’t mind.” After she finished speaking, she looked at him expectantly.
“Well, I feel that the overall tune lacks a little variety, so that the whole tune is a bit ‘flat’. Composing music is the same as composing a poem. It is like looking at a mountain that is uneven. The valley is lower, and the steeper mountain is highlighted.”
An Yinong expressed his thoughts: “The ‘poetic life’ in the video was not always smooth. Apart from happiness, the most direct emotion the poet feels in this era should be ‘loneliness’, which neither his partner nor his children can understand. His neighbors laughed at him…”
“That’s it.” Beiyou couldn’t help but clap her hands. She took a pen to record her inspiration on paper. “You can use the cello to introduce the story at the beginning, and then use the piano and cello to express the jumping nature of the whole story. And then here -“
She drew a line: “The frustrations that poets feel in real life, as well as the loneliness that is not understood by others, should be expressed with melancholic music.”
They were chatting happily. Seeing that a piece of music was about to be perfected bit by bit from this discussion, Zhang Ruojun frowned. He saw that the two of them were getting along happily, but it seemed that no one could get in the way, which made people uncomfortable.
“When the program requires one person to create a work independently. This kind of work where you help me and I help you, whose work should it be considered to belong to?”
The sudden voice interrupted the pleasant exchange, and An Yinong’s smile faded. He looked at Zhang Ruojun and smiled: “I don’t have to worry about it. I just expressed the listener’s feelings as a bystander. Whether or not Sister Youyou wants to change it or how she wants to change it is all her own business.
“If you think critics should also have ownership of their works, then I have to advise you to look at the relevant provisions of the copyright of works.”
“Ruojun, don’t you understand the way we musicians get along with each other? It’s really surprising.” Beiyou picked up the rough handwritten music score, and after thinking about it, she couldn’t bear to think about it, and still said something weird.
“I’ll go try it first, see you later.” She glanced sideways at Zhang Ruojun and said goodbye to An Yinong.
“See you later.”
Now there were only two guests left in the room, Zhang Ruojun and An Yinong. An Yinong lowered his head and continued to ‘sculpt’ his score.
“When did Teacher Ke learn to compose?” Zhang Ruojun’s voice interrupted An Yinong’s creation. He raised his head, and their eyes met in the air.
“When you don’t know.” Smile.jpg.
“You!” Zhang Ruojun stood up and walked to An Yinong in a few steps.
“Zhang Ruojun, you have a phone number. It’s your agent.” A staff member ran in. He looked at the two people at war with each other in confusion and shrank his neck.
Zhang Ruojun subconsciously looked at the camera, joy flashing across his face.
“I’ll be there right away.”
Zhang Ruojun strode away while An Yinong lowered his head and plucked the strings.
“Host, he seems to have foreign aid, is it okay?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He never came here just to compare with that person.
An Yinong didn’t go to bed until after one o’clock in the evening. On this day, he had a good dream. He dreamed that he really lived such a life, with a house, a cat, life and poetry. He smiled in his sleep.
This dream gave him a lot of inspiration, and An Yinong further improved his work the next day. The sense of transcendence in this work had become stronger, as if the lotus was washed in the water without being stained, coming from life and going higher.
The arranger liked it very much, and the band performed a pure version together. Suddenly An Yinong said: “The sound of the flute is still a little sharp. Wouldn’t it be better to switch to a deeper ocarina?”
They changed to the ocarina, and the sound of the ocarina brought people into the quiet forest at the beginning, with a gurgling stream and sunlight passing through the branches, penetrating the world like rays. At this time, the guitar penetrated the chords, and the violin brought a lyrical melody. The simple piano sounds set off the sometimes soft and sometimes honest strings…
The traditional pentatonic scale naturally brought the listener into the world of classical songs. The whole song became more ethereal, and the artistic conception of the song became more distant. It seemed that it was not happening in reality, but in a dream. This feeling of interweaving reality and dreams, life and poetry was deeply intoxicating.
“Hometown in dreams is the name of this song.” An Yinong said.
“Bah bang bang.” The arranger couldn’t help but applaud, “Now I’m worried that there are no good words to match it. The instrumental music version is excellent enough.”
“There’s still time.” An Yinong looked down at his watch, “It’s ten o’clock now, I still have half a day.”
The guests’ songs had entered the final stage of editing, and they each found a room so as not to interfere with each other. An Yinong also found such a quiet room. On this day, he even had lunch while thinking about his words and eating bread.
“The sound of the flute is like water sleeping with the wind, and the moonlight is like a song saying goodbye to the past. The catkins in the east are sad in the west, and the drizzle is autumn. He thought about the color of the moon, the swaying white clouds, and the bleak north wind…”
The first half of this song was relatively low and sad, as if lamenting reality. In the second half, the song gradually rose an octave driven by the main melody. The addition of strings would make the song reach a climax, and finally fall back to a peaceful and distant artistic conception, so An Yinong wanted to distinguish these two emotions through lyrics. From low and dark to gradually bright and open…
“Teacher Ke.” The door opened, and the staff member reached out and knocked on the door, reminding him in a low voice.
An Yinong’s heart skipped a beat, and he had a subtle feeling of falling from a height. Being interrupted from his thoughts, he raised his head: “Is something wrong?”
“Teacher Ke, Tao Ran is on the phone.”
WhiteMoon x BlackSun 