musicians of old

Chapter 304 "Bringing Dawn" (5400)

"Mr. Fanning."

Congreve was waiting at his desk, seeing Fanning hang up, and hastening to hand over a signature.

The two generals from the Turner Art Hall were absent, and a lot of business was on him. Recently, he has been working until midnight every day.

Fanning took it.

Seeing the music director holding a pen and reading carefully, he began to report and explain.

Words floated into Fanning's ear and came out the other side.

The phone said that starting from the following week, Kaprun's bone pain became a secondary problem, and he began to fall into frequent lethargy. Olga moved a phonograph to the ward and picked some records of his favorite works. , and the albums released by Turner Art Hall one by one, this method has had a good effect at first.

The long-lost music came to his ears, and Kaprun listened very carefully. When he woke up, he would immediately ask what time it was and how many days were left until the premiere, and even flipped through the score for a while.

But the good effect didn't last long. In the past two or three days, he basically didn't eat much, and the waking time he can communicate with people is getting shorter and shorter. Basically, he can wake up about three or four times a day, less than one at a time. He fell into a coma again when he was young, and this time was not as long as the performance of the "Second Symphony".

Perhaps, at least I can last until tomorrow to listen to it. How many movements can be persisted is how many movements.

Congreve finished his report.

"Sorry, what were you talking about just now?" Fanning raised his head, his face full of apology.

"...It doesn't matter, Mr. Fanning." Congreve spoke quickly and re-reported, "It's about the decision on the fourth temporary seat addition. The five days before the sale on the billing day After the end, we received a lot of suggestions from music fans and people in the music industry. Their voices were too strong, and they even asked the cultural department to communicate. So we added three waves of seats with low stools in the corridors, aisles, between boxes, around the stage, etc. There are a total of 700 seats. I reported this to you before... Now that they are sold out, the request comes again. I want to ask you if you want to allow them to add another round. I just made a measurement on the spot. If you squeeze again, It should be able to squeeze in about 200 low stools, and it can be arranged in time for the daytime tomorrow..."

Fanning held the pen and kept nodding.

After thinking about it for 3 minutes, he said:
"Is the pricing plan right? You can decide whatever you want. I've been working hard on you lately."

".Okay, got it."

Hearing Fanning's completely irrelevant response, Congreve shook his head secretly, and left as ordered.

It wasn't until the door was closed that a deep sigh came from the corridor.

Inside the door, Fanning held the score of the "Second Symphony" in his hand and slowly leaned back in his seat.

Staring at the dead darkness and warm light of the cover for a long time, he was about to open his fingers, but retracted them with some hesitation, avoiding those related memories, and turned to more broken and empty thoughts.

In a daze, it was late at night.

There were two soft "dong dong" sounds outside the door.

"Which one?" Fanning asked aloud.

On the eve of today's performance, there are quite a few people who are still here to rest or make preparations.

"Me." It was Joan's voice.

"The door is not locked."

The girl in the violet dress walked up to Fanning holding a silver flute.

"Caroun, the Vision Sealing Elixir you want." She spread out her left hand, on which was a small glass tube.

"Pillar is doing well." Fanning took the elixir from her palm.

"It's still the same ratio of effective extraordinary ingredients as in the previous few weeks. It will take effect about an hour after taking it, and it will return to normal after half an hour... However, this is already the fifth or sixth time. Have you used it in the end? And if there is such a need, why don't you just close your eyes?"

"boom."

The invisible force squeezed gently, and the glass seal shattered.

The colorless liquid, which was only a little over 1 milliliter, was "ticked" by Fanning into a porcelain cup with half a cup of boiled water.

After doing all this, his eyes dropped again.

"Thank you, you go to rest, good night."

After a few seconds of silence, Fan Ning asked, "Is there anything else?"

Joan put her toes together and bit her lip, as if hesitating what to say.

Finally she said: "I want to play with you, the 'Sicilian Dance' of the flute sonatas you haven't finished yet."

Fanning looked up in surprise.

Speaking of it, it seems that since the New Year, it has been a long time since I have chatted, nor have I been purely laughing and relaxing with everyone, even though I meet each other in the rehearsal hall every day.

Participating in afternoon tea is also one of the few, and even most of the meals, I let the servants send them here directly.

So Fanning got up without a word.

He moved out of his seat, pushed open the door of the living room, and sat down in front of the grand piano.

Joan followed step by step, and finally stood by his side.

The flute sounded melodiously, and the piano fell behind the keys with tacit and considerate dance steps.

Bach's Sonata for Flute and Harpsichord No. 1031 in E-flat Major (BWV.[-]), the second movement, "Sicilian Dances".

The melody is soft and pure, with vague sentimentality, and the black and white keys as a foil always weave elegant and unknown reveries and thoughts.

Quiet garden, tree-lined path, warm and slightly drunken autumn.

The girl lifts the gauze skirt and dances around, while the companion watches the sun fall and the fallen leaves flutter.

A golden piece of the world.

The song ends after 2 minutes.

Fanning raised his hand, stood up, and went back to the office to take a seat, while Joan continued to obediently follow behind.

"The chamber music performance next month will arrange them, so let's rest first."

Joan's eyes changed several times, and finally she said as if she had made up her mind: "Caroun, can I ask for leave?"

Fan Ning's expression of surprise flashed across: "Tomorrow? Are you not coming to the premiere?"

"...Maybe." She had a very guilty expression on her face, "Caroun, I feel very sorry for you, but maybe it will be almost a few days, and I will find a way to make up for you later, okay? For example, you will be paid for the concert. kind……"

Fanning asked after a moment of silence.

"whats the matter?"

"...It's a personal matter, can I tell you when I get back?"

Fanning suppressed all kinds of negative emotions, and said calmly: "If it is a very urgent matter, I think you can leave and deal with it, and come back to explain afterwards, or tell me to seek help; if not, then you should wait for the premiere Deal with it after the end, instead of dropping the chain at this critical moment."

"So, no matter what the situation is, you don't actually need to ask for leave, what do you think?"

"Oh." Joan bowed her head.

"Then good night, I... I'll see it tomorrow, it should be, I'd better attend the premiere..."

She stepped on tiptoe and moved out of the room step by step.

Fan Ning nodded slightly, and said after she stepped out of the door: "Don't take the door, tell Xilan to come over."

"Oh…"

A few minutes later, Sheeran, who had already changed into a gauze nightgown, walked into the office.

"Caroun, Joan said you asked me to come over." Her long brown hair was draped over her shoulders, still slightly damp and fragrant.

"Sit." Fanning pointed to the opposite chair, "Do you know why she asked for leave?"

"Ask for leave? I don't know?" Sheeran sat down suspiciously, "Did you agree?"

"Maybe she didn't agree, but she said she would still participate in the premiere."

"Oh, she always thinks about it, Caron, why don't you go to bed, it's so late today and suddenly want to talk to me?"

"I want to discuss something with you. Would you like to teach little Irene the violin in the future? The kind of formal teacher-student relationship."

Hearing this, the girl's originally bright eyes dimmed.

"Is Mr. Kaplan all right?"

"..., so and so, maybe not the most ideal, but I think it's okay for me to meet him tomorrow." Fan Ning lowered his eyes and recounted the content of the call with Olga.

"That's good, I'll follow your arrangement." She was temporarily relieved.

"As you please."

"Well, I'd love to."

"Okay." Fanning lowered his head and moved his fingers aimlessly on the table.

Although he never witnessed it, he still has the image of Kaplan listening to the gramophone on the hospital bed.

"Xiran, do you sometimes feel that there are so many beautiful music works in this world, so many that you can't listen to them all in your life?"

"Of course." Sheeran didn't know why he was so emotional all of a sudden, but nodded in agreement, "Actually, I'm embarrassed to say it frankly, although everyone calls me a genius violinist, some even call me 'famous', but the vast music literature, I am familiar with only a few parts, and I am not familiar with the others. There are many, many pieces. I don’t know how they sound. If you show me a piece of music score, you can’t match the name of the work, the name of the movement, and the name of the prologue. , you may not even be able to guess which composer it is..."

"However, I feel very lucky to have been born in this industrial age. If I had been born even half a century earlier, I would have listened to a non-solo work, and the only two ways I could go to a concert or support a family band, and now though Phonographs and records are also expensive, but at least music has become something that is within reach—you can listen to a symphony while lying on the sofa or big bed at home at any time, let alone the old people of the previous era , even when I think about it sometimes it feels fantastic."

Fan Ning pondered for a moment: "Have you ever thought that one day, more and more people will be able to hear music in a cheaper and more convenient way, such as picking up a small machine, wearing a small device, can make the accumulation A deep master, or a group of musicians who work in harmony to present their genius to you?"

"In that case..." Sheeran thought briefly, "Such happiness is unreal, maybe it can happen in heaven, and it is more practical, then I might really be able to listen to most of the music literature in my lifetime, although there are endless masters , The number is vast, but I have a good plan, take that magical little device, listen to a little bit every day, listen to a little bit every day, and one day I will be able to read a lot..."

"Really, I don't think so." Fanning looked out the window in a daze.

"Music is pure, people are not pure, procrastination is one aspect, and the lowering of the technical threshold will lead to a blowout development of recording stock, interest will be attracted by other styles that are more exciting and intense, and the threshold of entertainment will be raised higher and higher. ...Do you think the actual situation is like this: When we were young, we held that magical gadget and felt that the future would be long, and when we thought about free time, we would appreciate the works that we planned to understand, but suddenly one day we found that time Almost gone, the plans are still there, piling up..."

"And you said, if it really comes to the end of your life, would you choose a dozen or so favorite works and bid farewell to them one by one, or would you listen to one or two of your favorite works repeatedly?"

Sheeran thought seriously, but showed an increasingly struggling look.

"I...I don't know how to choose...Why do you ask such a depressing question? I want to have a good chat with you."

is it?Sheeran do you think so?
However, Fan Ning felt that whether this was depressing or comforting, it was difficult to make a conclusion for a while.

But he finally shook his head: "You don't talk if you don't talk."

At this time, a rare smile appeared on Fanning's face.

"Have you ever wondered, what would you like for your next 18th birthday present? Refer to the approximate type or hint."

"Ah..." This topic made Sheeran suddenly a little overwhelmed and surprised, "If there is, you can look at the preparations."

She was actually a little puzzled, her birthday was more than two months away, why Fan Ning suddenly brought it up today.

But it's been a long time, she hasn't seen Fanning smile, not including bitter or helpless smiles, just referring to those without a sense of haze.

Especially now, still smiling at myself.

It's really nice.

"A general type or cue can make the effect better at that time," Fanning said.

"Usually if you ask this question, you have an idea in your heart." Hilan rolled his eyes up to the sky, "However, in fact, I prefer to cooperate with you in the violin concerto. If you don't mind, I can do more."

"It's not too difficult, you can write a few more slowly."

"It doesn't have to be a new work, it's all the same. Those four little poems are so beautiful, are you going to play them once and put them out of the box?"

"Old works are fine? Your appetite is really small."

"Did you have a big idea in your heart?"

"Very big." Fanning nodded.

"How big is it?"

"The size of Turner Art Hall." He gestured with open arms.

"What a cold joke." Xilan burst out laughing.

"I'm serious." Fanning blinked.

"Come on, to be honest, it's the Violin Concerto, old ones are fine, and you can arrange a few more performances later on."

"No problem, then, go and rest."

The two got up, and Fanning escorted her out the door.

"Why are you so obsessed with the violin concerto, or the kind that doesn't pick out the old ones?" He leaned against the wall and asked again.

"I like it." The girl replied.

"Is there any particular reason?"

"You rest early, I will tell you after the premiere."

After saying good night to each other, Sheeran waved his hand, and his face disappeared behind the closed door.

"I'll sleep." The door was closed when the words fell.

The smile on Fanning's face didn't last long, and he walked back to the desk step by step and sat down again.

He didn't feel sleepy at all.

Slowly leaning back, he took the score of the "Second Symphony" into his hands again.

This time, he was flipping through one by one, all kinds of past events emerged in his mind, and each movement reminded him of various pictures in the past creation, or the voices and smiles of the dead people and old letters and old documents.

Reminiscing about the past of the old organist under the tutelage of Mr. An Dong...

Led by the Saint Lania Symphony Orchestra, the adventure experience of the three...

The condolences of the poet Bassani, the scene of the runaway subway accident, the summer fragrance of the Saint-Ovreni estate...

The old symphony orchestra from scratch, the life in the Turner Art Hall, the eyes of the children who have been rescued by music, the message wall of music fans, various interesting topics at the tea break, and the friends of impressionist painters Ladies and gentlemen, the unrepentant joy of the New Year's concert, Ms. Hamilton's funeral...

The hours of midnight ticked by.

His fingers stopped on the last page.

Enclosed there was a black-and-white photograph of a New Year's concert, with the back facing up.

He was about to turn it over, but couldn't make up his mind.

Then he turned his gaze to the bookshelf next to him.

Most of the books are scores, and many of the pages are filled with notes that have not been torn off in the future. These are notes that Kaprun borrowed and returned this year. There are bookmarks, time notes, and assigned questions to answer.

There are still letters in the drawer under the bookshelf.

He began to read the letter again.

Extremely stretched and elegant font, each letter is written very familiarly.

"...But the same spring does not necessarily mean the same joy, happiness or depression depends on the way each person spends the winter, if you have not tried your best to fight against the severe winter, you will not be able to appreciate the warmth of spring, if you have not experienced the uncertainty of fate. , you won’t be able to appreciate the happiness that day when you owned it.”

Under the gas lamp, in the rearview mirror, the backward figure appeared in my mind again.

Summer night thoughts wandering.

There is always lingering sentimentality.

After an unknown amount of time, Fan Ning began to write something at his desk again.

Finally, I stood in front of the window, looking at the whiteness of the sky in the distance.

The time has passed 05:30 am.

"Sunrise" and "dawn" are two synonyms for the rising of the sun.

But in Turangalian, the phrase collocation of one is "sunrise comes" and the collocation of the other is "brings dawn".

It's really interesting.

As if the dawn was brought by man.

It's like seeing the sunrise subjectively in the eyes, which leads to the arrival of a new day.

Just like the meaning of "wu" in the ancient language, it has undergone a long evolution process of division and refinement.

But for some people, today "brings" the first dawn, for others, it is the last one, or even the one "cannot bring".

He thought so until the sun rose from the skyline, until the smog and steel supports in the city were stained with new colors.

Until he suddenly felt something strange in the spiritual environment around him.

It was as if several walls were pushing against him from all directions.

It was a kind of existence whose degree of condensation and mysterious characteristics were much higher than his own, and even the "candle" spiritual sense that had reached the limit of the ninth level could not penetrate and probe.

Before he could react substantively, a cold hand patted his shoulder.

"Commander Fanning, this is the third time I greet you like this. When I bring dawn, I send my greetings to you."

He Meng's gloomy voice rang beside his ears.

Fanning turned his head, his pupils constricted suddenly.

one two Three…

In the office, apart from He Meng, there were seven investigators standing in front of him, staring in two rows.

Including Salman, everyone who gave him the vague aura enlightenment is a high-level existence.

A dagger with black mist suddenly appeared in his throat again.

""The River of Silver Mirror"..." The ancient Chaniz language name of a work flashed in Fan Ning's mind, because according to his artistic understanding, this mysterious painting may belong to the invisible force of defense rather than attack.

This is better than the "Expanding Echo" spell in his pocket that was used to deal with subway collisions.

But just when he was about to open his mouth, the dagger suddenly dissipated.

"Take out the nine paintings we met last time, and then lead us into the entrance of the 'Great Court School' site. I know it's in the Turner Art Museum, and it's one of those possible areas."

Norma Gunn, wearing a black court dress, is sitting on Fanning's desk and chair.

"15 minutes is enough time to go around to any far end of the art hall. I need to see things that meet my expectations before the end of this time. I don't need to shirk, and I don't need to speculate whether I will actually do it here. "

(End of this chapter)