Resonance
Senior Three (7) Class of 2019 Cheng Yihan
I can't count how many times I sat on the piano bench.
The eyes gradually blurred, the room was either bright or dim and silent, things changed in a flash, and the long years of trance passed like a marquee.
Cheerful, passionate, sour, boring scenes emerge, and all wave after wave recedes, as if being chased by something. What's going on in my heart at this moment? No one responded. What kind of mood was I in at that moment? I have forgotten. The mood rises and overlaps layer by layer. Why comb through, where to start? I could only lower my head and contemplate the only eternal and unchanging thing in front of me, the endless interlacing of time and space, the piano.
Black and white. The cold purity of the unstained dust was high above the white, and the deep mysterious silence was dim and all-encompassing black. Black and white, one and the same. As bearers of these two opposing colors, the keys, they gaze silently. Neatly arranged and artistically beautiful, staggered and orderly and containing millions of brilliance.
The still keys seem to have a strange charm, a fantastic sense of seduction, which stimulates the desire of the heart. The desire to touch them, the desire to let them rise and fall with the throbbing of the heart, the desire to hear their sounds, even if it is a single monotonous note, even if it is just a plain note.
Look, they're silently saying something, they're waiting in silence, they're looking at you, they're asking you for help! So I pressed the key, the one that was in the center of all the keys, with symmetrical beauty, the beginning of all scales, "do.".
It made a sound, "do." This is one of the tones I am most familiar with.
I still remember when I studied piano in the past, this name came out of the mouth of each person and flowed out of each person's fingertips. It's a must-have for pop songs, it's in every familiar tune, and children understand that music is sung from "Doraemon Lassie". There are very few pieces of music that do not have its participation. It was picked up by the light flutter and then put down by the light flutter. Yeah, it's a very common sound, and no one isn't familiar with it.
But at this moment, it became strange to my ears. This reminds me of Chinese characters, which I suddenly don't recognize after looking at them for a long time, which may be caused by the complex and exquisite structure of Chinese characters. Well, the two seem to have similarities. In this sound, I seem to be able to see through the board, and see the internal metal strings humming as I press the keys.
What a boundless charm this moment is, gripping and surging with blood! This grand miracle was felt only by me. How many times have I dismissed it with contempt, dismissing its mundane, featureless, well-known clichés? But now it is this voice that makes me feel a mighty force in my heart.
Which song does the tune that rings in my ears belong to? What year and month is the view in front of me? Where did this noisy noise come from, and does it belong to all things in nature? I want to listen carefully to this one tone of this moment, to hear the thousand words it brings me. But because I pressed hard, just like its sound, it had only a brief chance to perform, and soon it gradually weakened and dissipated.
I woke up like a dream and tried to prolong its life with the sustain pedal, but it was too late.
It was already something I couldn't catch.
I lost the confidence to listen to it again, so I moved my gaze to the far right of the keys.
This time I pressed that key with the greatest force, the one with the highest note in the whole piano, that "do" that spanned three octaves from the center "do". This should also be a well-known note for many people, only because it stands alone at the end of the right side of the key. It is so lonely, so lonely, so lonely, that it is the only one in its realm. Its sound is so crisp, so fragile. Like a chirp of a bird, sharp and short, fleeting.
Its appearance in the song is always so just right, at the moment of the end, its song is like a shooting star breaking through the night sky, for the whole song with the most sincere embellishment, always endlessly evocative. Is it the moonlight that rips open in the lake? Or is it the slight swing of the breeze blowing through the feathers? I was desperate to continue to taste. But even with all my strength, because of the nature of its sound, I couldn't keep it for half a moment. The sustain pedal didn't do much this time, because its brilliance was always in that moment, and only in that moment.
After listening to the middle and treble, I naturally reached for the bass. But at this moment, my eyes are on the front of the piano keys — because it is really impossible to choose. But in the end, I chose the starting note of "do", which is not at the very beginning, but is the lowest full octave on the key.
I pressed it gently, because its tone was so low that I was afraid that the sudden heaviness would disturb the silence of the moment. Thick sounds spread through the space, endlessly. This tone and the range in which it is located are rarely noticed, because it generally plays a supporting role in the music, as an accompaniment to set off the excitement of the main melody. Its voice is also dull, hoarse and mournful, not the ordinary impression of the piano sound. But in the music, without its presence, the whole movement will be eclipsed. At the end, its voice is like a ripple of water, with a unique and shocking power. Are they the remnants of artillery fire? Or the low-pitched cicada chirping under the night sky? No language can fully describe it.
I always feel that I am still less than something, or unwilling. So I stepped on the sustain pedal and pressed all three notes one by one. The metal strings are constantly vibrating, and they are played together at this moment, blending and blending into each other. They are very different and inclusive of each other. They are harmonious and beautiful. Each of them exudes a unique charm and comes together to give you a passion. They are scattered on the keys, each a miracle in its own range. They connect all the keys and roughly symbolize all these notes.
It's a grand sonata. This sonata is not perfect, even rudimentary. But every note is so clear that they bloom and burn. Your world is full of them. You close your eyes and the cells of your body flutter with it. You're reonating.
You seem to realize something in this instant. Moderate, universal, so much so that it is despised and demanding. High and self-reliant, so that they are independent and alienated. Low, so silent, so that it is ignored and forgotten. What does this mean? What does this mean? There seem to be many, many more. Are we all around us? Are we all kinds of social classes around us? Or is it the past? What we initially despise but ultimately miss, what we fear with shame, what we should have and let it go.
Countless questions swirl in your mind, stretching out to the far side of your thoughts. You can't help but sigh, I didn't expect that these small tones could contain so many feelings.
The tide of thoughts comes and stirs in your mind. You let the waves crash and wash away the chaotic emotions. Your eyes gradually become clear, from the fragments of time back to the world you are in. A glimmer of sky light leaked through the cracks in the windows. The piano stands silently in front of you, and you are relatively speechless.
I let go of the sustain pedal, but the aftersound went around the beam. My heart was also at peace.