"What's going on?"
"Did you know?" "Has anyone seen it before?"
Some of the audience looked at each other, some rubbed their eyes, and some tried to bend the bouquets in their hands to make up for their love for Miss Nightingale while she was still singing. However, there was no sign of the light shifting to Miss Nightingale again.
.
They are still becoming shiny and rich at an extremely slow speed, from crystal white, to pale yellow, to orange...
"This is impossible!……"
The troubadour Senesino, who was sitting on the sofa at the back of the stage with his eyes closed, ran out in a red cloak. Renilla left a series of burning footprints on the stage and stood there.
I stood at the front of the stage and looked around.
These more than 4,000 "bouquets of fragrant flowers" are made by injecting "permanent nectar" with different contents according to the number of audience seats and judges' seats before the famous singer finals every year.
Once the "flower folding" pattern that represents your love is made, its everlasting nectar will temporarily sublimate and pass through the giant altar spread across the entire opera house base, and then transfer to the number plate on the singer's chest to re-precipitate and condense.
After folding, it will lose its extraordinary performance and become an ordinary item. There is no reason to regenerate the heterogeneous color!
Although, this seems to have nothing to do with the duel between Miss Cuckoo and Miss Nightingale on the stage, and it has not affected the light and vision on them for the time being...
But what is obvious is that this incomprehensible phenomenon was caused by Scheler's later performance of "The Poet's Love" with Miss Nightingale, and the progress of the matter was not over yet. This somewhat made Seine
Sino, Miss Cuckoo, and the few "diehards" in the judges' table felt uneasy.
An, who was facing the audience, of course also saw the vast starlight flowing in the dark night.
She didn't have any reasons or mental activities like others, she just thought it looked good.
Since the arrival of midsummer, I don’t know how many unreal things have happened. This may also be like a dream.
She again thought of the deck, cane chairs, sides and white sails on the Paradogos Islands route a few days ago. She thought of the calm blue and black colors of the sea and the sky. She thought of the curve of the edge of the sky where she stretched her body, and the curves below.
That vast and dazzling ocean.
When autumn fades away with "On a Sunny Garden Morning", this seems to be the last natural scenery that still shows the wind and sunshine.
There is nothing left in the harsh winter, and there are no more poems describing the waking world.
"I wept in my dream - I dreamed that you lay in the grave,
I woke up and couldn't help but cry."
Without any prelude accompaniment, Miss Nightingale began to speak at a slower pace.
Winter (13), "I Cried in a Dream".
The terminology instructed by the composer is softly (Leise), with weak intensity, slow speed, and no emotional modification, allowing the audience to experience the poet's powerless, weak and even vague state.
Perhaps, this relatively numb emotion will be more suitable for the artistic conception of this song.
"I cried in my dream - I dreamed that you abandoned me,
I woke up and cried, and it hurt my heart for a long time."
The cooperation of the piano is not active at all. Whenever Miss Nightingale finishes singing a sentence, she plays a few chords lonely and slightly nervously, or provides a few important harmonic supports on a few rests or downbeats.
It wasn't until the last section that the accompaniment of column chords began to progress simultaneously with the vocal music.
"I cried in my dream - I dreamed that you were still intimate with me,
I woke up and finally burst into tears."
These were the first nights when the poet had three dreams: the first dreamed that his lover was lying in the tomb, and he woke up and shed tears; the second dreamed that his lover abandoned him, and he woke up still heartbroken - the first two paragraphs are both in the middle
The sound range wanders and the tone is deep.
The third dream lover seems to have returned - at this time, the notes under Fan Ning's fingertips crawled towards the high register and gradually became brighter. Who knew that this was still a dream! The tragic situation of not forgetting the lover but being irreversible
, after emphasizing it three times, it is simply adding salt to the wound!
The audience was weeping, but the bouquets were still getting brighter, and so were the judges.
The opera hall has turned into a golden world with dancing orange lights.
The key is switched from E-flat minor to B major, but it still has a similar chord texture, and it's still the same dream.
"Dream every night,
I see you,
I see you greeting me affectionately,
And I fell at your feet and cried."
Winter (14), "Every Night in Dreams", the poet dreamed of his lover again, but it was different from before. This time he decided to forget love.
"You looked at me sadly, shaking your blond hair,
Pearly tears fell from your eyes;
You whispered something to me,
and gave me a sprig of cypress;
I woke up and the cypress was gone,
I also forgot what you said."
In the winter in the poem, the poet has abandoned the world and is completely immersed in dreams, legends and glimmers of the past.
But can anyone really forget what they have experienced in this world? Unless it was just a dream.
Miss Nightingale thought so.
The next moment, Fan Ning used a lively rhythm of dots and syncopations to play a short and jumping chord accompaniment group. The jumps are already short, and the addition of rests makes the poet's breathing jump even more, unlike reality.
"From the ancient fairy tale, a snow-white hand called to me, and in that fantasy land, singing was noisy.
The colorful flowers there bloom in the golden dawn, like the face of a bride, lovely, eye-catching and fragrant."
Winter (15), "Ancient Legend".
The birds were singing happily, the spring water was tinkling, the piano imitated the sounds of "chirping" and "dinging, tinkling", and Miss Nightingale's song seemed to have become cheerful and lively again.
"The green trees there hummed ancient songs, the breeze made mysterious laughter, and the birds chirped gracefully.
A shadowy crowd emerged from the earth, and amid the strange chorus, they danced briskly."
The audience once again realizes that reality no longer exists and everything is a beautiful fantasy.
"Old Legend" is the song of Miss Nightingale, the medium of the poet's thoughts, and the dream in the surreal painting.
The gentle breeze blows gently across the plains and mountains. The wild land is lush with green trees and full of vitality. People join hands to sing and dance. Some of the shallow depression in reality may be met with the help of disguise...
But the subconscious mind of those who pass through these sleeping portraits is vague and lonely, and its essence is just a desolate and poetic dream monster.
But this can at least make people forget their troubles and sorrows, right?
"On the branches and leaves, blue sparks shine, and red light swirls, making people dazzled.
The spring water gushes out, the marble in the wilderness, the stream magically flashes the shadow of the world."
It seems that everything is developing in a good direction. According to the legend, the poet achieved spiritual relief. Although he was not completely relieved at this time, he was full of desire to get rid of the depression and unhappiness of the past.
Miss Nightingale opened her arms and shouted, her gaze seemed to penetrate the clouds and fall into the non-existent future and distance.
Under Fan Ning's fingertips, he frequently used eighth notes to play softly, followed by alternating fourth and eighth notes, one long and one short.
"This kind of rhythm sounds carefree, lively and cheerful at first, but as time goes by, especially when the value slows down again in the second half, does it make people feel a bit mechanical and far away from reality?..."
Because it has reached the final stage of the entire work, Master Lucter frowned and thought about the creative intention behind it.
"An old nursery rhyme that seems to be cast in an unknown shadow."
Many more inspired listeners also perceived something deeper.
"Ah! I wish I could go there and open my heart,
Abandon my pain and move toward the faith of freedom!
Ah, that is a happy land, it often appears in my dreams,
And when the morning sun rises, it melts like bubbles."
In the last stanza, the beautiful and dreamy scenes in the ancient fairy tales finally dissipated, and all illusions came to nothing.
To be continued...