Gulangyu is a cinnabar in the heart of Xiamen people. The bright moonlight in front of the window is the old one that they will never finish.
Gulangyu Island is known as the “Island of Music”. On the one hand, there are countless masters of music on the island, and on the other hand, because of the profound soil of genius music: the area of less than 1.87 square kilometers has gathered more than 500 Piano and piano have the highest density in the country.
What does the 500 pianos mentioned repeatedly refer to? 500 pianos, not 500 gods. I remember that in the early 1980s, the Gulangyu people’s home began to buy Toshiba color TV. The 18-inch stupid body, the family must be custom-made for her velvet jacket, the weather is too hot to open, thunderstorm days to be closed, lest excessive use. Later, the dial-up phone appeared, and it was still served by a hood. Compared with the Gulangyu people’s treatment of electrical appliances, “the time is diligent, do not make dust,” the musical instruments are like the poor friends who visit from time to time, knowing each other, the number of rituals is so sloppy. This music is so everyday. It has become too formal and solemn to be routinely “everyday.” It is a vine that climbs up and down against life. It is a rare porridge salted duck egg that is used by people in southern Fujian.
My grandfather, Chen Taiyuan, worked alone in the Philippines and sent overseas remittances to support my father and brother three times a year. In the 1950s, my grandfather did not hesitate to spend 40 yuan to buy a “mandolin” and sent it home for the young father to play. When his father was in his spare time, he formed a quartet with the uncle who played the accordion, the uncle who played the violin, and the neighbor’s uncle who was the same. It’s not known whether it’s a ruin, but it’s said that it’s not so close to practice, the band’s stars are scattered, and “Mandolin” disappears. The father later indulged his harmonica and violin for a few years. He didn’t want to make a living, and he didn’t want to improve his skills. The harmonica and violin didn’t know where to go.
In my generation, the wind of happiness is not diminished, but there is no form of awe in music. The bow of the violin is a double-edged sword that people love and hate. Every time the piano is taught, as long as the teacher is late, the bow is the 18 weapons that the boys hold when they slash each other. Every time the teacher complains, the father grabs the bow and swears, and it instantly becomes a family law. In the struggling wave outside of these music, the bow of the horsetail fell down and the years flew.
In other places, music is enshrined; and here, music is long-lasting—such as the holy armor that Garna, the son of the sun god, can never get rid of, is already in its own right. skin.
I often wonder, what contributed to our very close relationship with music? Is it a conservative concept of the islanders farming and reading the family? Is the lazy nature of the relatively wealthy overseas Chinese family? Is it a long absence of the art level test?
Music has never been a means of making a quick profit. The music education of several generations is unintentional. Listening to the fate of life, some eventually grow into towering giant wood, most people will always be a grass on the roadside.
The church once assumed the task of spreading music on the island. If you want to quote the classics, Yin Chengzong, the editor of the “Yellow River” piano music, was quite accidental when he set foot on the music road. Born in a Christian family, he brushed his shoes and arranged his room for his father’s wife, earning two dollars. One dollar bought the piano score, and the other dollar was used to learn from the foreign pastor. Xu Feiping’s musical talents were revealed, and Zhang Xiuyan, the mother of the church division, was absent for some reason. At the time, he was only 5 years old and used his hands and feet to climb the bench. He didn’t need to look at the music and played all the hymns to the end. Lin Junqing, the singer and doctor, and Lin Wenren, the founder of the bamboo tree foot chapel in Xiamen, the mother of Liao Cuixian is a devout Christian. He can sing the whole “Shengnan Sheng Poetry” at the age of 5, and is the lead singer of the children’s choir. . Even the grandmother I have attended Christian Elementary School can still look at the scores of the cataract in the eyes of nearly 90 years old. Without professional and systematic music education, Christian families, churches, worships and hymns are the music compulsory courses of the previous generation of islanders.
The music education of our generation is inseparable from the music school in Gulangyu. Its former site is an old church on the deserted Jishan Road.
In the 1990s, students of the music school had a music appreciation class and a chorus class once a week. The older students had to take basic music and participate in the string ensemble. At that time, the conditions seemed to be simple, but in fact it was quite bizarre. Our “Music Appreciation” class was conducted in the ancestral home of Yin Chengzong and Yin Chengdian brothers (accurately speaking the living room floor). At that time, the president of Xiamen Music School was Mr. Yin Chengdian. He is the second brother of the famous musician Yin Chengzong, and is also the left-behind man on the island. On the Jishan Road, there are his Yin family ancestral homes, all of which are made of granite slabs in southern Fujian. They are warm in winter and cool in summer, with extraordinary colors, and there are fascinating portals, lofts and narrow wooden ladders. If you run through the dusk, you can see a tall, handsome, old man walking by the sea. In the beginning, the principal opened the famous audio, stuffed it into a videotape or a record, and explained the famous dramas such as “Animal Carnival”, “Swan Lake” and “The Nutcracker” to the children. He is passionate, we are all sitting on the ground, playing, or dozing off.
If friends travel to Gulangyu 10 years ago, I can design a chic route with endless music:
At 7 o’clock in the evening, I will arrive at the ferry terminal and arrive at the concert hall. I will listen to the concert of the Philharmonic Orchestra or the Xiamen Song and Dance Troupe (where I have a classmate, scattered in the last row of each part); Slow down, “babycat’s” coffee shop owner (my neighbor) may be willing to play a piano after dinner; “褚家园” once had an excellent fiddler, and then go forward is my first love for my girlfriend’s old house, her The pitch has always been bad; to 47 Zhonghua Road, my grandfather is playing the jazz, the words of the New Year’s Day, and a family concert including the accordion and the piano; I went to Anhai Road, my first love girlfriend. It may have just been showered, her violin is so dull, and the overtones are never right; the cello of the Zhuo’s younger brother on the mountain road is hoarse and sad, and now she has done a great job. His silence and perseverance fills every record. Walk into Neijiao, wear it from Longshan Cave, and arrive at Sanqiutian Wharf. All the way to accompany you is the Shanghai Music College, surnamed Yang, who is going home during the winter vacation. She is always practicing the boring scales and voices, one by one, such as Tianfeng Haitao, the ancient times remain unchanged.
Is this my memory of the childhood of the violin, or the last point of the island that once gave birth to me? Unfortunately, I know that this wish will never be implemented.
I don’t know when it started, the island was quickly involved in Xiamen’s overall development strategy. As in the past, there have always been some inexplicable policies, with Gulangyu as the golden signboard for attracting capital. Today, ten years later, Gulangyu receives more and more strange tourists every day, and has become an old prostitute who has been greeted with enthusiasm and ushered in. There is no previous style. For the local residents, the old house is in disrepair, and the hospital is relocated, the population is aging, and the school is revoked because it does not receive enough students. The island is more and more unsuitable for living, and the classmates and teachers have moved away. Oh, overwhelming the sound of the piano. Finally, one day, Xiamen people began to complain: “Gulangyu is no longer like Gulangyu.”
Music is taking off from the island. The decline of the golden age of Gulangyu, represented by this, has been irreparable. Whether Xiamen people admit it or not, the current Gulangyu Island is just a cup of cold coffee in our hearts, and the charm is no longer, even if you are in the memory, it is hot and hot.