A sonata sounded on the shore of Lake Taibai
Taibai Lake, Jining Grand Theater, 7:30 p.m. on the third day of January.
The winding moon hangs leisurely in the deep sky, and the lights on both sides of the road are brilliant.
The lights in the auditorium went out, and on the large stage, a piano domineeringly occupied the center of the stage, and the soft light emitted by the two floor lamps formed an aperture, which was thrown on the piano and around the piano. There was nothing else empty all around, and there was nothing else to be desired.
He appeared, steady in his stride, thin figure, and in his usual costume. Normal, so ordinary! Could this be the world-renowned piano master?
Bowing in greeting, he sat down to adjust his seat, his hands raised and dropped, and the notes slowly flowed from between his fingers. It was a heart-warming song, impatient, and with the soothing rhythm, I heard the sound of the spring water stirring stones, the chirping of good birds, the babbling of the stream, this is a gentle expression, this is a delicate work of art. The audience sitting held their breath, lest they miss a note, and were trying their best to find colorful sounds. Such as the ring of the ring, yes, the sound of gold and jade, crisp and pleasant, the gentle music in the hall, swirling in everyone's heart.
And so it went on quietly. In the moment when silence is better than sound, on the black and white keys, between the undulating arms and dexterous hands, there is a strong sound of agitation. His thin body, I don't know whether it is the notes driven by the body, or the body driven by the notes, the notes are jumping, his body is also jumping, looking forward to a beautiful world, reveling in the world of art. The endless stream of notes rolled out between his ten fingers, each key glued to his finger and left at his disposal. I really can't understand what kind of magic he has to make a piano flow in his hands with such a moving melody!
In the whole concert, he did not have a word, the notes were his language, and it was superfluous to say a word.
Looking at the back fading out of the aperture, the soothing agitation of the melody remained in my mind.
Walking out of the hall, the moon in the sky seems to be clearer, and I wonder if the water of the Taibai Lake not far away will ripple in the sonata?
Really good, where is the good? I can't say it, just like eating cabbage tofu, today I occasionally ate sea cucumber abalone. Author Zhang Hengli Teacher of Jining No. 15 Middle School