Xian Xinghai (short story) Zhang Baotong

March 26, 1939, this day did not have any special significance for the people of Yan'an. The cold wind blowing from the northwest www.biquge.info still traversing the plateau of northern Shaanxi. At a glance, Yan'an is still surrounded by loess, and the cold wind seems to be swallowing up all the heat. Qiaoergou, five kilometers from Yan'an, is no exception. In the narrow valley, everything seems to have just woken up from hibernation, shivering in the cold wind, waiting for the revival of spring. The newly built Catholic church, on the other hand, stands solemnly and majestically, shielding itself from the cold wind with its tall and majestic body, giving the surrounding scenery a spring-like vibrancy. On the slope behind the church, there is a hole in the earth cave stone kiln, and the wooden doors and windows inlaid with flowers in front of the kiln keep the cold wind out of the house day and night.

There was a kind of freezing cold air in the kiln, but fortunately the sun was clear, shining through the big window into the house and shining on the large earthen kang. On the clay kang is a futon and a small table is placed on the other. The small table was full of papers, and the paper was sprinkled with notes like bean sprouts, and underneath the notes were written the Yellow River, the Yellow River, the Yellow River......

The sun shone on that handsome, stubborn and Cantonese face. His yellow complexion gave him a kind of stoic and unyielding fortitude, and his brown eyes revealed the calm of the deep sea. Dressed in a gray cotton military uniform, he sat cross-legged at a small table, holding a water pen, his expression changing between agitation, anger, trembling, and sadness. Because he is transforming the suffering and roar of the Yellow River into a string of indomitable, high-pitched and loud notes. If you've listened to his classes or seen him conducting, you'll recognize him as the 33-year-old young composer Xi Xinghai.

At this time, he was composing the music for a long poem called "The Yellow River Cantata". The poet was a twenty-four-year-old young man named Guang Weiran. His Anti-Japanese War poem "Flowers in May", after being composed by Yan Shu's poems, has already resounded throughout the motherland. Xian Xinghai and Guang Weiran first met one day in June 1936. Xian Xinghai was conducting the rehearsal of "Flowers in May" at the Shanghai Engineering Troupe, when suddenly the young people of the "Chinese Literary and Artistic Field Work Troupe" came into the auditorium to watch them rehearse. When a member of the field work group saw that they were rehearsing "Flowers in May", he took their leader and introduced to the people present, "Look, he is the lyricist of the program you rehearsed, the young poet Guang Weiran." Immediately, the rehearsal hall burst into thunderous applause. When the young poet heard that the conductor was the famous composer Xian Xinghai, he was also very excited, so the hands of the two young men were tightly clasped together. After that, they collaborated three times to create "Gorky Memorial Song", "Praise for New China" and "Pioneer Song".

Not long ago, Xian Xinghai heard that the poet Guang Weiran led the third anti-enemy drama team to Yan'an, so he went to visit. He said to the poet, "I want to write something, will you give me some lyrics?" Guang Weiran said happily, "Okay, I happen to have a long poem called "The Yellow River", I changed it to the lyrics and made a chorus. So, the two discussed dividing the long poem into eight sections, including solo, unison, chorus, and recitation.

After that, the third team of the Anti-Japanese War drama held a celebration to welcome the New Year in the cave at the Yan'an Communicator. Guang Weiran recited "The Yellow River Yin" for everyone. His recitation, with its majestic and heroic lyricism, strongly shook the musician's heart. Xian Xinghai once went to the shore of the Yellow River with the film shooting team and had a deep impression of the Yellow River. As soon as the poet finished reciting, the musician, who was already in full swing, couldn't help but get up from his seat, snatched the manuscript from the poet's hand, and said to the people present in a proclamatory tone, "I want to compose it into a piece of music, and I am sure that I can write it well." ”

The "Yellow River Yin" in front of him was changed to "Yellow River Cantata" by him. This is a sublimation of his creation, which makes the realm of the work broader and farther, and at the same time, it also increases the difficulty and height of the work. The Yellow River is a symbol of the Chinese nation, and he wants to write "The Yellow River Cantata" as a poetic and historical work that expresses the strength and unyielding of the Chinese nation.

After he got "The Yellow River Yin", he did not immediately devote himself to writing, but conceived, interviewed, collected and conceived. Previously, he had composed many songs and collected many folk songs. Especially in the process of writing "Production Cantata", he has accumulated a lot of experience in the national language and style of music, and it can also be said that he has made some preliminary preparations for "Yellow River Cantata". After many days of contemplation and contemplation, he had a preliminary idea of how the various parts of the whole psalm would be expressed.

Qiaoergou has a Gothic Catholic church with a height of 25 meters and a width of 16 meters. In front of the door, there is a stone plaque of Yan'an Lu Xun Art Institute inscribed by Chairman Mao Zedong. A multi-kilometer river road runs in front of the village, and there are many stone bridges over the river road that lead to a village called Ichiripo. There are patches of green wheat seedlings, and there are one low farmhouse after another. On the edge of the village in front of the village, there are jujube trees, pear trees and persimmon villages, as well as rows of poplar trees rising to the sky. Xian Xinghai walks on this road every day, and the scenery on the side of the road and the tranquility around him make it easy for him to immerse himself in the poetry and imagination of the "Yellow River Cantata". As he walked, he suddenly stopped, took out his pen and notebook, and began to write and record quickly. Sometimes he would even take his beloved violin and stand under the rows of poplar trees, turning his thoughts and imagination into majestic and beautiful melodies over and over again.

It is in this path that the musician makes a detailed and systematic review of the expression of traditional Chinese vocal music. Most of the songs sung by Chinese people are love songs, sad songs or raps. Love songs are sung to lovers, sad songs are self-discharged, and rap is to tell stories to others. As a result, there are very few choral forms in the expression of Chinese vocal music, let alone part-part choruses. These traditional forms of vocal music are not enough to express the majesty and tragedy of the Chinese nation's grief and anger.

So he thought of the cantata chanting form of the choir of the Christian church. It is a vocal cappella suite that includes solo, duet, and chorus, usually accompanied by orchestral music, and has a sense of solemnity and grandeur. Cantata often begins with an overture or chorus and ends with a chorus, interspersed with accompanied recitatives, arias, recitatives, duets and choruses, which, combined with the expressions of Chinese solo and duet, will make the whole work shine and shine. Yes, the growth and fullness of Chinese vocal music needs the nourishment and nourishment of Western vocal music, and the enrichment and development of Chinese vocal music will enrich and improve the world's vocal music. This is the source of the life genes of human vocal music and their strength.

In order to find inspiration for creation, he once summoned the comrades of the third anti-enemy drama team who crossed the Yellow River twice to hold a creative forum, and asked Tian Chong, who served as a soloist, and Wu Xiling, the conductor, to describe the scene of the Yellow River in detail over and over again, telling the thrill of crossing the river and the story of the soldiers on the anti-Japanese front line who bravely killed the enemy. These scenes were stored in his mind, overlapped, reflected, and transformed into an immersive image and an irrepressible impulse, which quickly immersed him in a frenzy and obsession with creation.

It was late at night, it was dark and silent outside the window, and his wife had fallen asleep. The oil lamp on the small table flickered tiredly and sleepily. At night, the kiln was as cold as an ice cave. Xian Xinghai wore an old tweed coat, sat cross-legged at the small table on the earthen pit, and recited in a low voice, "Friend, have you ever been to the Yellow River? Have you crossed the Yellow River? Do you still remember the scene when the boatman fought with his life against the stormy waves?"

When he recited this, he couldn't help but burst into tears, because he remembered the extreme poverty and heavy suffering of the peasants on the banks of the Yellow River, and the poor life he lived with his mother after losing his father when he was a child. He knew that this was the poverty and suffering of the entire Chinese nation. As long as you can hear the hoarse and heavy trumpet sound of the boatman in the life-and-death struggle with the huge waves of the Yellow River, you can hear the cries of depression, pain, sorrow and resentment of the Chinese nation.

The burning passion and flying thoughts made him think well, fluttering, and immersed in a realm of obsession and selflessness. He was playing like a piano playing at great speed, playing like crazy. The Jiao pen in his hand rustled rapidly on the paper, and soon, the rows of five lines were full of notes like bean sprouts.

It wasn't until he had finished several sections that he realized that his whole body was stiff and stiff, almost so stiff that he couldn't move. Hands, feet, and ears were also frozen unconscious. So, he moved his body vigorously so that he could be flexible. And he rubbed his cold hands, feet, and ears with his hands. When his hands, feet, and ears warmed up a little, and his body moved, he felt that his legs, which had been sitting cross-legged for a long time, had become numb. He slapped his legs with his hands until they were no longer numb, and then he knelt down at the little table and continued to write.

Before I knew it, it was already dawn. His wife, Qian Yunling, had already gotten up, and saw that her husband was still sitting cross-legged at the small table, yawning tiredly, while continuing to work, and said with great concern, "Xinghai, you drove the night train yesterday, how about it? Let me make you some soup?" Xian Xinghai said, "Don't boil it, you can buy me some fruit candy." ”

Xian Xinghai is a native of Guangdong and likes to eat sweets. So, his wife asked Tian Chong, who came to pick up the music script, to help buy two catties of fruit candy. However, Tian Chong ran through several streets in Yan'an City, and there was no place to buy fruit candy. This incident made Guang Weiran very worried. He knew that Xian Xinghai worked day and night, and he couldn't do it without fruit candy as his energy supplement. So, he inquired everywhere to see who could get fruit candy.

However, where could I buy fruit candy in Yan'an during the Anti-Japanese War? Guang Weiran had been hospitalized in Yan'an Central Hospital because he had fallen off his horse while riding a horse not long ago, resulting in a fracture of his left arm, and Wang Ming's wife, Meng Qingshu, was also nursing in the hospital for Wang Ming, who was hospitalized. Because she likes music, when she heard the news, she immediately found Guang Weiran and said, "I have white sugar there, I'll lend you two catties." When Guang Weiran heard this, he was very happy and said, "Great, I'll pay you back when I go back." After getting these two catties of sugar, Guang Weiran immediately asked Tian Chong to send it to Xian Xinghai.

Since composing music for the "Yellow River Cantata", Xian Xinghai has been tireless day and night. The melody in his head reverberated and continued, keeping him in the excitement of creation. He had not rested for three days and three nights.

By the time of the third watch, he felt very sleepy, but the movement had not yet been written. So, he kept smoking his pipe, and from time to time he grabbed a pinch of sugar from the bowl and put it in his mouth, as a way to increase the energy to fight drowsiness. The clouds of smoke spit out from the long cigarette stick, the pinches of melted sugar in the mouth, turned into a period of sometimes passionate, sometimes tactful, sometimes wild national voices and wonderful chapters in the musician's heart.

However, soon, there was a problem with the tip of the Jiaoshui pen again, either he couldn't write, or he just wrote a piece of ink. So, he stopped and began to fix the nib. However, the nib of the pen is already bald, and it is useless to repair it, and it is getting worse and worse the more it is repaired.

He patted his sleeping wife on the bed at the small table, "Yun Ling, wake up." When his wife woke up, she asked, "Are you hungry?" and he said, "give me your fountain pen to use." My Jiao pen is broken again. The wife yawned and said, "Isn't the one you are holding in your hand my Jiao water pen?" Xian Xinghai thought that his Jiao water pen was broken yesterday, and it was his wife's pen in his hand. So, he said apologetically, "Then you can sleep." His wife looked at him sleepy and tired, and said, "My great musician, when is it, go to sleep, I am afraid it will be dawn in a while." Xian Xinghai said, "I'll go to sleep after writing this section." ”

So, he got up and got out of bed, took a kerosene lamp and began to look for pencils in the cupboard. I found half a pencil and sharpened it with a kitchen knife. After sharpening his pencil, he went to bed, sat cross-legged at the small table, and went back to work. However, the pencil was bald after a while, and he had to sharpen it again, which made him feel very troubled. But he insisted on finishing the movement.

After a while, the sound of a rooster crowing came from a distance. He knew that it was the fifth watch, and his eyes were really a little unable to open, so he didn't take off his clothes, so he lay down where he was sitting, put the quilt next to him, and went to sleep. (To be continued.) )