Chicago 1990

Chapter 1070?

"APLUS! It's the Tenth Symphony!"

The staff of the concert hall came in to report.

"I see."

Song Ya, who was helping each other tidy up the tuxedo at the South African concert, nodded and smoothed out the folds of the shirt on her chest slightly.

Symphony No. 1 in C minor is also commonly known as Symphony No. 10 because it is generally believed that the style and artistic achievement of the work are not inferior to Beethoven’s nine immortal masterpieces. The German composer Brahms created this work from the beginning to the end. It took a total of 21 years to complete the masterpiece, which is divided into four movements, and it takes about 50 minutes to play the complete book.

The tome has only just begun, and there is still plenty of time.

Looking at himself in the mirror for a few seconds, he turned his eyes back to the conductor score and baton on the table. These two things must be kept with him, especially the conductor score, otherwise he may be embarrassed on stage.

"Go and see?" the South African singer asked.

"OK."

The two took their good things to the big rehearsal room. The children in the choir had already changed into their costumes. Most of the students in Nancheng Public Middle School were black, wearing colorful African styles. About two-thirds of the private school I went to later It's white people, and their costumes are Greek style robes? At that time, the renderings produced by the stylist were very good, but they felt a bit nondescript when they were actually worn.

The other two choirs, whether they are semi-professional or amateur old men and women, are all in black dresses and black skirts.

Even with the teachers keeping order, the kids were still rowdy, and the old folks were socializing together.

"Don't worry about APLUS, I promise nothing will go wrong." The choir conductor saw him and asked with a smile, "Do you want to make a speech?"

"No, just don't lose this."

As soon as they were on stage, they stopped putting pressure on them. Song Ya waved the conductor's score and told them that each of them had their own black-covered score in their hands, and they would sing with their hands in hand.

BabaYetu’s rehearsal time is quite enough for a skit of more than three minutes. There are not a few words in the Lord’s Prayer. If it were in English, everyone would know it by heart. come out.

He went to the place where the musicians stayed. They were all sitting around a piano, not far away from their musical instrument cases and music scores. There was a small TV in the room. The governor, the mayor's family in the front row, the South African ambassador, and other political and business celebrities who I don't know.

They watched silently, the eyes of the young musicians showed longing.

Barenboy is not as passionate as some conductors, but he does not belong to the elegant school. His movements are fast, concise, and full of power. Song Ya has long experienced it. When rehearsing Game of Thrones, he felt like the other party was quiet. The lion, unassuming but unquestionable in control, is the only king in the audience.

In fact, during a certain period of time in the middle of the rehearsal, when I was conducting, I would unconsciously start shaking my head. When the fingers flow out one by one, the sense of satisfaction and pride leads to...

"No, no, it's better to be more graceful and restrained." He thought to himself, "I'm also in the Barenboy line..."

The first movement, the second movement, when the Symphony No. 1 in C minor was halfway through, the clear and clear voices of children talking came from the corridor outside.

"There are still twenty minutes." After a while, someone came to remind me again.

"OK, tidy everything up and get ready."

Song Ya slapped the order, and the musicians started to move, took out their instruments, asked the piano for a B-flat pitch, and then concentrated on debugging.

"Nobody lost the sheet music?"

With ten minutes left, Song Ya checked it one last time, and then asked someone to call Lia Salonga out, and led the team to wait in the corridor.

There is not enough space in the backstage, and the choir of more than one hundred people is crowded in front.

Have to give up half of the passage.

"Don't be nervous." Lia Salonga, who was used to seeing big scenes, said with a smile.

Damn, I wasn't nervous at first, but I was a little nervous when you said that, "Small, 80,000 people came to my concert in Mexico City." Song Ya bragged while shaking her legs.

But in fact, I don’t know why, I’m more nervous than when I went to the nightclub opposite Old Joe Records for the first time. Alas, the reason why everything is difficult for the first time, right? Looking down at the short Asian girl beside her, maybe because of her long-term cooperation relationship with Schonberg, she is not very interested in this sketch, and even feels that she regrets taking BabaYetu, with few lyrics And it's not difficult, and you have to travel between New York and Chicago.

"Hmph, I'm generous with my performance!" He comforted himself in his heart.

'Wow! '

The music on the stage in front of him stopped suddenly, followed by thunderous applause, which lasted for a long time. He knew that it meant the end there, so he swallowed subconsciously.

"I'm going to show up at your father's place."

The lights in the auditorium in the hall came on, and Xue Linfen woke up the little Robb who was already asleep, "Come on, stand up and applaud together." Barenboy was leading the whole orchestra to pay the curtain call, and she taught her son to stand up and applaud with everyone .

"not bad."

The old Barn in the hall below gave a rare compliment.

"The Christmas concert will be followed by the New Year's concert. Barenboy has worked hard this year." The old friend applauded warmly.

"Take a break."

After Barenboy left, the stage lights dimmed, and the audience who had listened to the symphony for more than an hour took the opportunity to relax and go to the bathroom. Old Barn took out a cigar from his pocket and lit it up, and went out with his old friends to find a place smoked.

In North Carolina, Jesse Helms, who was resting at home, was also watching PBS, but just put down his cigar. "Go get my checkbook!" he called to his wife.

"Don't you dislike this Jew?" asked the wife, handing him the checkbook, "Say he sympathizes with our enemies."

"But this old theater really needs a makeover."

He filled in a number on the checkbook, signed it, and before he could tear it off, he saw the subtitles from PBS on the TV screen, the next track BabaYetu, conductor: APLUS.

"What the hell..."

He was in a good mood after enjoying Brahms, and immediately tore up the check that he just signed, and threw it into the trash can, then picked up the remote control to change the channel, and saw the next subtitle 'BabaYetu , which means Our Heavenly Father, was composed by young musician APLUS based on the Lord's Prayer in Swahili. '

Should I change it? Forget it, let's keep watching, anyway, other channels are all messy cultural garbage.

In the corridor, Song Ya heard footsteps and depressing conversations getting closer and closer. Playing a tome for tens of minutes was very exhausting for both the musicians and the conductor. It was sweat, and he kept wiping it with a handkerchief, "APLUS, I'll see yours later."

"no problem."

"OK……"

Barenboy was not interested in talking, so he waved his hand and went back to hurry up and rest.

The queue on my side began to move forward slowly. The children and old men and women in front should stand on the stepped chorus first, and then the musicians and singers will take their positions. I have to wait until the stage lights are on, and I will be the last to appear urgent.

"WTF?"

When Old Barn came back from the wind, he also saw the horse-racing text 'BabaYetu Commanding APLUS' displayed on the electronic display screen on the side of the concert hall, and cursed indignantly: "How much sponsorship fee did the Symphony Center charge that black upstart? They don't want to face it for the renovation project. gone?"

"Hush!" his wife immediately stopped her husband from shouting.

"Let's go outside and wait." Not wanting to see or hear, he called his old friend.

"Wait, who is that?" The old friend recognized the Dow Vice President who was looking for his place with a happy face from the crowd on the dim stage. "Why is he here?"

"how could I know!"

"Is this the one that APLUS sang in our church last time?"

The old friend recognized more familiar faces among the group of old men and old ladies, and instantly lost his composure, "That is to say, we were supposed to stand on the top and they were watching from the bottom? Is it like this? Bahn? Shxt!"

The audience nearby looked sideways, and Mayor Daley Jr. in the front row also looked back. This time it was the turn of the old friend's wife to stop her husband from swearing.

The people in the corridor were almost gone, and the ears gradually became quiet. Song Ya became more and more nervous, and kept stroking the conducting score under his arm. The South African singer saw this, but there was no time to say anything, so he took a picture. I was afraid that his arm would also walk on the stage.

Song Ya followed in a daze to the edge of the stage, but fortunately, a staff member came over and raised his hand to block him, preventing him from making jokes on the stage ahead of time.

He looked over from the side and saw Alicia in the first row, Peter and two children beside him, as well as the South African ambassador and other people who appeared on the TV screen just now. Xue Linfen and the others should all be on the second floor. I can't see it, and the previous broadcast shots will not stare at the box viewers who need more privacy.

The noise in the concert hall gradually dissipated, and the audience had already returned to their seats. Then the stage lights were turned on again, and the staff members put their hands down.

Unable to avoid it, he felt ruthless in his heart, bit the bullet and squeezed out a smile, and walked out.

"Bow to the audience for one third of the way, then wave and continue walking..."

He silently recited the things he had learned by heart in the past month, and acted them one by one.

But there was no such enthusiastic applause for Barenboy from the audience, and there were sporadic ones. Someone whistled in the back row, and an audience member in the front row coughed loudly (Barne did it).

The faces under the stage became more and more blurred in his eyes, his mind gradually went blank, and it felt like the world was in chaos.

Before it even started, I felt my back started to sweat.

After bowing for the last time, he turned around and put the conducting score on the conductor stand. Damn it, he forgot to hug the singer. He went to hug the South African singer and Leah Salonga again. The applause was louder than his own.

what else? Oh, and he balanced on one leg, enough to shake hands with the first violinist.

The route was messed up, but all the things that should be done were finally done.

"He was a little nervous."

David Geffen, a big patron in the art field, saw through it at a glance. He had already sat on the stands outside the box.

Charis, who was by his side, was tone-deaf and had almost no experience of watching symphony live. She didn't understand it at all, but she was worried about the man, so she looked at Mira who was beside Doug Morris on the other side.

Mira also heard David Geffen's comments. She poked her head out and stared intently at her ex-boyfriend on the stage. Her hands holding on to the railing were unconsciously exerting force, and her knuckles turned white.

The lights in the auditorium dimmed.

There is no ear return, no pad sound, and post-remedial work. Fortunately, he practiced well enough. Song Ya took a deep breath, raised his hands, made eye contact with each part, and counted the beat silently. The baton jumped and flew in the air again. .

The bowstrings of the fiddlers were slowly raised like a forest of guns, 'Woo, woo...' sang Lia Salonga.

It's all about rehearsal, it's all about rehearsal! Song Ya didn't know if he made any mistakes, but the music was undoubtedly presented strictly according to the rehearsal effect. The maracas tasted right, the fat cellist made no more mistakes, and neither did the Huaguogu drummer.

good! good! He slowly raised his left hand towards the South African singer.

Babayetu, yetuuliye

our father

Mbinguniyetu, yetu

you are in heaven

Amina!

Amen!

Babayetu, yetu, uliye

our father

may your name be holy

The unique voice of the South African singer, as rough and boundless as the African wilderness, sounded.

"It's very interesting." Doug Morris, president of Universal Music, immediately lit up his eyes.

It's a very short piece, the professionals have just tasted it, and the choirs joined in the next section.

Dow's vice president looked at the score, shook his head, and sang a language he didn't understand, using the lyrics he marked according to his favorite foley memory, and enjoyed it very much.

The children opened their arms and looked up reverently at the ceiling as they sang, as if they were looking up to God.

The atmosphere unknowingly became sacred.

Song Ya's tension gradually disappeared.

The old conservatives are very familiar with the Lord's Prayer. Both PBS and the concert hall have simultaneous translation subtitles. The faces of Jesse Helms and Old Barn have quietly become softer.

"It's Daddy who is in charge."

Xue Linfen and Mariah Carey in Bedford Hills, New York also showed off to their son almost at the same time.

"The Lord's Prayer in African, and so many ethnicities are invited to play the politically correct gospel chorus? Emmm..."

David Geffen, who is Jewish and a gay fraternity leader, certainly didn't catch a cold, but he pondered for a while and quickly understood what Song Ya wanted to express outside of music.

Relieved, Mira turned her head and saw Charis by chance, and the two eyes met.

Alicia, who was closest to Song Ya, looked up at his back, the corners of her mouth turned up unconsciously, and her eyes became hazy.

The South African ambassador had already sang along with Pastor William in front of the TV with tears in his eyes.

"Twenty years later, twenty years later..." Linda murmured in tears like she was insane.

"Twenty years later?" Halle, who was on the same level as Charis, asked, but Linda just shook her head and refused to say any more.

Give us this day our daily bread

Tunachohitaji

please forgive me

Makosayetu, hey!

Our guilt!

Kamanasi

As if we were spared…

someone else's debt

Finally, the harpist who had been sitting dry for more than three minutes fiddled a few times to finish. Song Ya put down the baton and pressed down gently with his left hand. The sound of the music gradually became low until it became silent.

The audience was silent for a few seconds, and then applause broke out, this time extremely enthusiastic.

Really, it feels like the first time I was in the recording studio of Old Joe Records with Ellie. Although the result was satisfactory, the process ended in a hurry just after the beginning. It's the movie about the jazz drummer, thankfully it hasn't been seven episodes...

Just take it easy, just take it easy, it will be fine soon.

He held the command frame with his hands, resisting the dizziness and the slight trembling of his body. Because of the pain of fighting with Tianqi, a tear slipped from the corner of his eye and stayed on his face.

"Pfft..." Barenboy, who was moistening his throat, spewed water onto the TV.

"It's really contrived." In the office of the mayor of Wasilla, Alaska, the staff complained.

"Hey! You are not allowed to say that!"

Mayor Sarah Palin took out a tissue and gave one to Cassidy beside her, "His music itself is still very touching."

"I knew it, I knew it, it's all your fault, it's all your fault, Bahn!"

The old friend stood up and applauded, his hands were red, and at the same time he stared enviously at the cheerful Dow Vice President on the stage, nagging, "This song is not difficult to sing, not difficult to sing... definitely not difficult to sing! "

Old Barn was aggrieved and dared not say a word.

"This kid... At least his faith has always been firm, hasn't he?"

Jesse Helms' wife watched the scene on TV, covered her mouth with emotion, and tears rolled in her eyes.

Jesse Holmes sighed silently and noncommittally, and silently picked up the checkbook and pen again.

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Chapter 1108/1598
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Chicago 1990Ch.1108/1598 [69.34%]