Chapter 1056? Diligence Can Make up for Weakness

After all, it was only a short sketch of more than three minutes, and a top conductor led the orchestra through the early stage like a nanny. Now the level of this band's performance is quite high, and Song Ya can't find any flaws.

Just now, because I was too focused on picking out the fault, my brain entered a wonderful tunnel effect. Whichever part I focused on, there was only a narrow area centered on the part in my hearing and vision, and the outer part of the area was a narrow area. Becomes very blurred, as if disappearing from the world.

Soon, the ensemble came to an abrupt end, and all the musicians looked up at themselves.

"e..." Song Ya rubbed her chin and pretended to think, but she was actually buying time to recover from that feeling.

Everyone was waiting quietly, only the sound of dripping water could be heard in their ears.

He knew that the trumpeter was taking the opportunity to press the water release key to drain the saliva that had blown into the horn body and the expansion tube, and prepare for the next blow.

"you."

You have to do something, fold your hands around your chest, and walk up to the fat cellist, who immediately turned pale, "Start from the eighteenth measure." Song Ya ordered.

The fatty trumpeter quickly turned the sheet music in front of him to the eighteenth bar page, "123..." beat the beat, and the fat man played the melody accurately by himself.

"ok."

After listening to a few bars of the solo, he signaled to Fatty to stop, then smacked his head for a few seconds, "I didn't hear anything wrong, what about you?" He smiled and asked the first violinist who promised to help check.

The other musicians laughed softly, and the chief violinist also smiled and shook his head.

The fat man let out a long sigh of relief and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

After this little episode, the oppressive atmosphere in the rehearsal room was completely relaxed, and the young musicians moved their bodies or fiddled with their instruments.

I have no confidence or authority to treat them as harshly as Barenboy, or the jazz conductor in the Apocalypse movie just now, at least not when there is no catch.

No synthesizer, no modern equipment, pure hard technology, there are so many people here, who can I teach.

The competition within the top orchestra is also very fierce. He remembers that when he recorded truets a few years ago, he met several young trumpeters who were invited to record as accompaniment. I heard that they got official positions later, so they should have been brutally eliminated.

In short, the industry model invented by the Europeans is naturally hierarchical.

First, second, and then down the row. Every time a musician moves up a small position, it is equivalent to a big step forward in his career, and vice versa. Generally, there will be no cynical guys.

The strength of the team is definitely no problem, and the coordination of baba yetu after rehearsing for so long is no problem, so the only thing left is to fine-tune according to the original song of Tianqi, otherwise the effect of the performance will not match what I have in my head, and I will give it to the conductor behind me Work is a big hassle.

"Okay, next I need your vocals to be a little clearer and more prominent."

Song Ya picked the musician who played the maraca and gave the order, "Let's start from the first bar..."

123... He silently recited the beat and waved the baton.

The maraca began to shake.

"No, no, it's more powerful, uh... how do you describe it? With a bit of African wildness, let's do it again, 1234..."

There won't be any thorny head, and the other party will soon adjust to Song Ya's satisfied state. He closes his eyes and compares the original song in his mind, nodding in approval.

The rehearsal went on so smoothly, and the time passed quietly by every minute.

"Okay, let's do it again as a group."

In the middle of the second ensemble, Barenboy quietly returned to the rehearsal room and only stayed for a few seconds. Song Ya didn't pay attention at all because he had no time to distract from the conductor.

Probably because he heard the changes, such as the more prominent sound of the maracas, Barenboy walked away with a straight face.

Song Ya heard the closing sound of the door, and turned her head to see the back of him leaving.

"Okay, take a fifteen minute break."

When the ensemble was over, "Mr. Barenboy!" Song Ya ran out quickly and caught up with him in the corridor, "I'm sorry, I made some changes privately..."

"No, the music you wrote is of course best performed in the way you like."

Barenboy didn't smile, but he wasn't really angry. "I also want to apologize to you. My attitude was a little bit bad before... I didn't treat people."

"I understand that I shouldn't be late, and I shouldn't bring people who have nothing to do with me."

Song Ya apologized again and asked, "Is it because of the Christmas concert rehearsal?"

"A lot of things, forget it, go back, don't make them wait too long." Barenboy pointed to the rehearsal room.

"Okay, shall we have dinner tonight?"

"Can."

Song Ya watched him go away, asked the old Mike for a mobile phone to call Linda, and told him to find the best restaurant near the Symphony Center to make a reservation, and then send some equipment over.

Fifteen minutes later, the rehearsal continued, and he continued his fine-tuning.

Soon, he finally had a 'chance to perform'. The drummer of Huaguo Drum was obviously distracted and entered too late.

Because there is a Latin beauty helping to turn the music score.

In a symphony performance, some musicians actually sit dry most of the time, such as the harp used in baba yetu, but when they are supposed to "sound", the sound of the instrument must appear accurately, if Inattention, it is easy to enter early or late.

"stop!"

Song Ya raised his left hand and made a sharp fist-clenching movement. The whole group stopped immediately and turned their attention to the drummer.

"What were you doing just now!? Thinking about life?" Song Ya was overjoyed, and walked over to stare at him, blaming him.

"I'm sorry aplus." The young drummer bowed his head and admitted his mistake.

Song Ya took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and the apocalypse came again, and it was one of the clips in the movie rehearsed by the jazz band.

Shakira... I love you, he looked at the Latin girl who sat obediently behind the drummer and looked at him with a smile.

This small turning point made the drummer misunderstand, so he was even more panicked, "I won't do it next time." He added.

"What? I didn't hear clearly, speak up!" Song Ya first raised the volume.

"I won't do it next time."

"Bigger!" Song Ya suddenly leaned over and roared in his ear.

"I won't do it next time!" The drummer shouted with a distorted face.

"Um."

The effect was very satisfactory. Song Ya glanced at the other musicians who were silent, and walked back to the command position, "Let's start again, 1234..."

In the afternoon, I will rehearse with the choir, which will be the closest rehearsal to the actual performance. The reason why I say the closest is that the female soloist Leah Salonga cannot come, and the Broadway performance is very heavy. In addition, she is in baba yetu There are not many arias in it, and I only take time to come to Chicago from New York occasionally.

Song Ya announced the end of the rehearsal on time according to the schedule given by Barenboy.

The musicians neatly packed up their instruments and belongings and left one after another.

"Are you hungry?"

Song Ya asked Shakira who was holding her waist with both hands.

"Fortunately, you're a real genius dear." The Latin girl stared.

"Well, I know, a lot of people say that."

Song Ya took him to continue studying the conducting score. Of course he knew that he was not a genius, but he had reached the step of being a conductor at a concert of a top orchestra. He could only make up for his weakness with hard work.

Shakira didn't bother him anymore, the two stayed quietly for a while, and Linda personally brought a set of professional recording and radio equipment over.

"Let's put it here, the direction is right..."

Song Ya arranged the location of the microphone before putting the score and other documents into the bag, "Linda, accompany us to the restaurant later?"

"Okay." Linda, who was in charge of reservations, agreed, "Who are they at noon?"

"The South African singer, the choirmaster, the first violinist, and maybe some other people in the orchestra, I've got an appointment."

Song Ya replied. Conducting is a position that requires coordination. Its main function is to guide the orchestra to achieve its artistic goals during rehearsals. No one will think about extraordinary performances on the spot. Rehearsals and rehearsals will solve the problem naturally. Also, musicians don't just stare at the baton to decide how to play, they only look at the conductor when they need to look at the part on the score before playing.

So communication is also very important, and relationship building is my strong point.

"Hujao!"

A group of people went to a nearby French restaurant, and the South African male singer was already waiting. He is not the most famous national treasure singer in South Africa, but he is at the time when his voice and business level are at their strongest.

"What?" Song Ya knew he was greeting herself, but didn't understand.

"Hello in Swahili," Linda reminded in a low voice.

"Uh...hehe, I didn't realize it for a while, hujao!"

"Say sijao when answering a greeting..." Linda added.

Say it all at once, really! Song Ya glanced at Linda aggrievedly, wiped the sweat from his forehead, "sijao, sijao..."

Other guests also came one after another. Work is work, and life is life. After get off work, everyone will not talk about music, and the atmosphere is very relaxed.

After eating, Song Yati returned to the rehearsal room, because the two middle school choirs, one from the public school he had attended before, and the other from the private school he transferred to later, the leading teachers were old acquaintances.

"Aplus, long time no see."

The Caucasian female music teacher in a public middle school was more affectionate, "I still remember us..." She looked a little older, and when she met her, she hugged her excitedly.

"How can I forget, I can have today, all because of your care when I was in the school orchestra..."

Under the adoring eyes of male and female middle school students, Song Ya said with a smile, "Speaking of which, if you didn't lend me the tape recorder and the utility room, I wouldn't be able to make the de of the second-hand store, then what my life would be like It's hard to say..."

"Hmm!" The female teacher choked with relief.

"Hey, boy!" At this moment, a somewhat familiar voice sounded beside him.

Song Ya turned her head and saw a red-faced old white man with a beer belly. He was indeed an acquaintance, the former vice president of Dow, "...Mr., what are you..." Hurry up and shake hands with him.

"I..." Dow's vice president pointed to the business choir, which had less than half of its people in, and they were all old men and women.

"Oh, then you are also the sponsor of the renovation here?" Song Ya slapped his forehead.