silent melody

Chapter 12 [Spring] Freshmen

The first week at the association passed quickly and absurdly on a whim.

Quiet night.Goldoni went out, to the world.

The cottage by the river was silent and dark.Vivaldi didn't turn on the electric light, he wasn't used to the bright light that could tell whether it was night or day.The body of the unfamiliar memoir materialized individual came to the bedroom slightly wobbly.

He still can't imagine what the world looks like.

The music association sent a new violin.No, to be precise, it was a gift from the pale young man with the long thin face.Vivaldi was grateful, even though he was soon told that the self-proclaimed Devil's Contractor just wanted him to beat his opponents easily when their instruments were already impeccable.

He stared at the violin in the moonlight.Delicate fingers pluck the slenderest E string.little noise.

No, he doesn't want to play this evening.

Heavy learning courses, a lot of materials to read.He doesn't mind that.

When the Viennese scholar Rodolfo Gallo's research results in 1938 came to him, he was finally able to understand how he was buried crudely in the crowded civilian cemetery that no longer exists.Does he mind that his body is now missing, or that the old house in Vienna has been wiped out?The price of the shroud, the price of the bell... all he could see was a bill for his own funeral.

But what happened to the Kilo sisters that Viennese summer day?To kiss him was their last chance, for those lips were cold; to put his beloved violin in his hand, they wanted to hear the music again but could not, for their hands were dead.They could only watch as the emaciated body of their dear teacher was placed in that lifeless thin wooden coffin, disappeared into the soil, and left to rot.Where did they go after that...

In September, his Venice residence was seized.It was known that the secular priest was not coming back.

But that was all two centuries ago and has little to do with the status quo.

It's just why he knows now.

……

There is a stack of records sent by the association on the bookcase.

Another snowy night.Will this be the last snow this winter?

With the help of the lights on the road, Vivaldi saw the name of the most familiar work in the stack of records.

Mater Mater/StabatMater.

Somehow, before the record was playing on the phonograph in his bedroom, he knew it was going to be that guy's work.

"Standing at the cross

The mourning mother weeps"

In the winter of 1939, he had heard this melody coming from his author.

Madonna of Pergolesi.

When the mournful female voice mixed with the moonlight, the music surrounded him, and everything showed that Pergolesi seemed to be still there, and he was clearly here... and the memory of this music clearly indicated, On that cold winter night, in the same unreal song, its author was reduced to ashes.

From Vienna two centuries ago to Limbo in the past hundred years, those people who have disappeared or are disappearing, their blurred or clear images are like curling smoke, moving forward with this music, lingering in the winter cottage inside, disappearing into the rotary gramophone.

lonely, nostalgic.

He doesn't know anything about the present: the association generally uses English, but he is only familiar with Italian, German and Latin; modern technology, he seems to only accept the old camera.All emotional ties exist in the past, dead and never resurrected.

************************************************** ***********************

The breath of early spring is mixed with the melting soil.Mint green with sky blue.

Early morning association, the sun still hidden in the mist on the horizon.It was deserted, not even the chirping of birds.

The cold light from the Gothic window.Vaults and vast spaces.An empty rehearsal hall, randomly placed music stands.

Vivaldi is playing on his ancient violin.

In the hazy light, the particles of dust tremble with the vibration of the strings.And light and dust.

There is no audience and no fixed program list.He's just speaking in a non-verbal way.

Like a piece of floating feather, drifting randomly into the starry sky, he came here, and everything that does not belong here does not blend into everything here.

Like a mermaid blinded by untouchable love, she came to the world through pain. She can only express her wish in the form of dance with painful toes.

Turned into a bubble after a long wait.

footsteps.

The sound of the piano attracts visitors.

An elegant and kind man approached the shy player.

Avoiding the eyes of the visitor, the player shyly put down the piano.

His warm hand held the player's cold little hand.He gazed at him with a reassuring look of encouragement; he was attracted by the sound of his piano, and he motioned for him to continue playing.

Too much vibrato and vibrato; unnecessary bow jumping.

Being watched by this warm-hearted stranger, Vivaldi couldn't help feeling a little shy.

First there is an Adagio of Violin Concerto in D major, Op.3No.9;

Then there was another allegro of the Concerto for Four Violins in B minor, Op.3No.10.

As someone's best friend, the visitor knows what these repertoires have in common.

"Don't be nervous, kid, I'm not who you think." The strange man said in German.

The player who had been read through his mind looked at the floor in embarrassment.The suspended bow accidentally struck the string a few times.

"I just want to tell you, don't worry..." His tone is steady and comforting, "You will have new friends, new love... And I sincerely pray that the old friends will come to you... ...I can tell you this because I have had the same experience as you..."

"You were also in Linbo...?" Vivaldi put down the piano.

"Yes. My reputation in life is almost worse than yours, and my fate of being forgotten after death is close to yours. It's just that I was a little bit lucky to be able to come to the association in the 20s...but you may I don’t recognize me anymore... just like I only recognized you through your piano sound just now.” His voice, like the breeze blowing from the field, was so fresh that it made people weep. "I am……"

"George Philip Telemann!" Suddenly, a rich voice exploded over the quiet and empty rehearsal hall.First, the swollen belly came into view, and then I attended.Fat, powerful, stubborn, tough.Thick eyebrows, a proud and wise expression.With firm strides (his silk dress was protesting every step of the way), he said, "Didn't I tell you to go to Monsieur Vivaldi, you are..." Suddenly, he saw the man behind Telemann. small figure.

"Red hair?" He smiled elegantly and mockingly.

"Handel, please don't call Vivaldi senior like that." Telemann was slightly dissatisfied.

Surrounded by outsiders, Vivaldi couldn't help feeling nervous again, he said in a low voice, "That's why the guy at the bar calls my father..."

"Then little red hair," Handel decided on the address with satisfaction without even asking for Vivaldi's consent, he glanced at Telemann, "George, you told little red hair that the German walrus wanted to see him Is it gone?"

"No." Telemann didn't want to pay attention to Handel at all.

"German walrus...?" Vivaldi was so confused (so much so that he ignored his strange address), "What do I need to do, Mr. Handel?" He said and put the violin into the case.

"Don't take the violin!" Handel almost roared, "Bring the violin to the small living room, hurry up! No bow! The violin is fine!"

Before Vivaldi could react, he was already dragged out by this energetic British gentleman.

It's harrowing how quickly atmospheres and scenes change.

For some unknown reason, Vivaldi was standing in the small living room holding the violin, while Handel was sizing him up with a serious gaze that was almost man-eating.

"Hair curled evenly on the sides... no; goose-yellow coat with dark pattern... no; high collar... no. No. John Sebastian will not admit it."

"Mr. Johann Sebastian Bach?" Hearing that name, Vivaldi was nervous and shy.

But Handel didn't notice this emotional change at all, he said, "Take it off."

"Mr Handel?"

"Take off your clothes! Take them all off!"

Vivaldi was stunned, he was transfixed.

Telemann couldn't stand Handel's simple and violent statement, "Mr. Handel hopes that you can dress exactly like the portrait so that Mr. Bach can recognize you more easily..."

"Come on, old Telemann," said Handel, thrusting a suit into Vivaldi's arms (with such force that the poor Venetian almost fell to the ground), "change quickly, little redhead! "

"You at least let the little girl change behind the screen..." Telemann, who couldn't stand Handel's cruelty, couldn't choose what to say.

When Vivaldi, who was wearing only a white shirt and a large crumpled red robe, moved tremblingly from behind the screen, Handel seemed to have a new opinion.

"Don't button so many buttons," he stretched out his fat hands to the poor Venetian's frail and pale chest, and unbuttoned his shirt below his collarbone;

"Hair," he plucked the poor Venetian's hair from behind (Vivaldi uttered a cry from the exertion), so that it fell over his shoulders;

"Hmm..." He looked at the Venetian's right ring finger... "Right! Ring ring!" Whispering, Handel took out a ruby ​​ring from his desk drawer (there were similar gadgets in that drawer) There are many more), and put it on for Vivaldi. "It doesn't look like... It's okay, anyway, brother John's eyes are as bad as mine." After looking at the Venetian's finger for a long time (Vivaldi was in pain again), the British came to a conclusion.

There was a sound of footsteps in the corridor outside the small living room of the Music Society. "Okay, okay..." Handel muttered to himself, and pushed Vivaldi onto the chair behind the desk, "Come on, hold the violin in your left hand, yes, that's it; hold a pen in your right...no pen! Take that quill!"

Suddenly Handel's rant stopped, and with his shiny leather shoes on, he walked to the table with grace and looked at the door calmly.

"Philip, Frederick?" A strange voice came from the door.Then the stranger noticed the violinist in red sitting at the table, and he froze for a moment.

Vivaldi turned his head and looked at the visitor.A middle-aged man with an ordinary appearance, his tall figure is out of shape due to obesity, and his eyesight is so poor that he always seems to squint.Could this fat middle-aged man in front of him be a German junior whom he has never met but yearns for day and night?Shouldn’t the delicate and timeless small characters on those letters come from a delicate and rigorous German guy...?

The violin was still in his hand, and his right hand was still holding the pen stiffly. Suddenly, Vivaldi saw the yellowed photo in the visitor's hand... He was so familiar, it was that photo... In Linbo, to replace the The photo of his meeting with Mr. Bach...

Bach looked at the photo in his hand, and then at the Italian youth who was also a little confused.He is obviously not familiar with Vivaldi's Bologna oil painting portrait... He just, and since receiving that reply letter, thinks that his predecessor should be, and can only be, what he looks like in that picture.Half a century later, his beloved predecessor has always existed only in that yellowed photo: dressed in a priest's costume, holding the violin he gave him, Vivaldi sat in a simple In front of the small table, the long red hair is draped like waves, the smiling and haggard face, the affectionate eyes are looking into the distance sadly and longingly...

But in front of him, the petite and sickly young man with pale golden curly hair wrapped in a wide placket...he couldn't be sure.Shouldn't the senior be warm and tall...

Suddenly inspiration flashed.

Bach hums a simple, unadulterated melody in steady progression in A minor, the theme of the Concerto for harpsichords and strings/BWV1065.After a few bars, he resumes the theme, but in B minor.This is exactly Vivaldi's original: Concerto for Four Violins in B Minor/RV580.

Vivaldi put down the violin and quill in his hands, and stood up.Stepping out from behind the desk, he also hummed, completing the whole theme.

When the melody fell silent, the two looked at each other speechlessly.

70 years have passed since the Leipzig church's autumn entrustment;

It has been 50 years since the delivery of the first reply letter;

It has been 11 years since the last contact.

But none of these can compare to the waiting that Bach was moved by the predecessors in this foreign water city.

In 1707, Bach, who went from Mühlhausen to Weimar Grand Duke Wilhelm Ernst Palace, read Vivaldi's works for the first time in the rehearsal repertoire of the court orchestra: Work No. [-] "Inspiration of Harmony".

From that moment to now, 243 years have passed.

Nearly two and a half centuries.

When the hands of the two people touch each other, the arduous and long waiting in the past is instantly wiped out; when the melody of two centuries of silence in Venice no longer only remains in the memory of two people who miss each other but cannot see each other, When it was played again, all the sorrow and despair turned into sweet tears.

The author has something to say:

By the time of Chapter 12, the feature film of the novel has been sent.10000+ episodes will start later~

Perhaps readers will feel that after 4 words, after the death of Monteverdi, Purcell, Pergolesi, Marcello and many other musicians, after the outbreak and end of World War I Later, after Lin Bo was abused N times, after Albinoni sang N songs, after Rousseau sent N letters... Bach and Vivaldi finally touched each other's hands... This is not cheating what...

Don't worry, the fact is that it's such a cheating [big mistake], no, in the next 1-word episode, they will have more interactions!From this point of view, in fact, this novel should not be called "Silent Melody" but "The Untouchable Lover"...

In Chapter 1's [Digression], I said that the construction of this novel should be to simulate the poem "Limbo" in Dante's Divine Comedy Hell: Dante traveled with Virgil's Limbo in Hell, and saw The ancient sages could not be saved; and what hurt Dante the most was that his beloved mentor was also deeply involved.If the story of the whole novel is from Bach's point of view, it is indeed like this: Mr. Bach knows that his dear Italian predecessors are deeply in Limber, but he is powerless to save him; and what makes him saddest is his beloved Vivaldi. Seniors are also among them...

However, if "Melody of Silence" is viewed from Vivaldi's point of view, it may be a passage in this chapter that seems to be cheating: "It seems that a mermaid, blinded by untouchable love, came to the world through pain. She, who is speechless, can only use her painful toes to express her wish in the form of dance "Pfft... To a German junior who has never met who occasionally writes (and not to him alone!), the glass-hearted Vivaldi gave his sincerity, and he never gave up after waiting for 8 years of losing contact... Finally, after going through all kinds of hardships, he finally arrived at the association and found that Bach did not come to him immediately, nor did he Anyone who cares about him... finally met Mr. Bach and found that his appearance is really unacceptable [Hello] [Apologize quickly] This is not a cheating mermaid (little red hair) looking for a prince (chubby) and finally turning into a bubble (fat and huge A small part of the harem) is the rhythm [Hello] [Quickly apologize]

To put it a bit complicated, in fact, the ending of the main novel is clearly: Pang Panghe, who is determined to rely on his senior, finds out that his senior is a weak patient; Little Red Hair, who is determined to tease German juniors strongly, finds out that he is the one who was pushed down... 【Hey】【Apologize soon】