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8月7日 ~The Genius of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart~The Genius of Mozart For one moment in the history of music all opposites were reconciled; all tensions resolved; that luminous moment was Mozart. Mozart is the highest, the culminating point that beauty has attained in the sphere of music. A phenomenon like Mozart remains an inexplicable thing. Mozart is happiness before it has gotten defined. A light, bright, fine day this will remain throughout my whole life. As from afar, the magic notes of Mozart's music still gently haunts me. Mozart is the musical Christ. Mozart creates music from a mysterious center, and so knows the limits to the right and the left, above and below. He maintains moderation. Mozart's music always sounds unburdened, effortless, and light. This is why it unburdens, releases, and liberates us. Mozart's music is so beautiful as to entice angels down to earth. Mozart makes you believe in God because it cannot be by chance that such a phenomenon arrives into this world and leaves such an unbounded number of unparalleled masterpieces. How can such a disproportionately large number of people have a definite, and unusually positive relationship to Mozart? Listening to Mozart, we cannot think of any possible improvement. Mozart's music is an invitation to the listener to venture just a little out of the sense of his own subjectivity. Mozart never did too little and never too much; he always attains but never exceeds his goal. Mozart is the most inaccessible of the great masters. Mozart's mental grip never loosens; he never abandons himself to any one sense; even at his most ecstatic moments his mind is vigorous, alert, and on the wing. He dives unerringly on to his finest ideas like a bird of prey, and once an idea is seized he soars off again with an undiminished power. It may be that when the angels go about their task praising God, they play only Bach. I am sure, however, that when they are together en famille they play Mozart. Mozart's music represents neither the prolonged sigh of faith that characterizes so much of the music written before his time, nor the stormy idealism which cloaks most music after him. Rather he is that mercurial balance of the skeptic and the humane. Like him, and in him, we can always discover new worlds. Most wrote everything with such ease and speed as might at first be taken for carelessness or haste. His imagination held before him the whole work clear and lively once it was conceived. One seldom finds in his scores improved or erased passages. The riddle of Mozart is precisely that "the man" refuses to be a key for solving it. In death, as in life, he conceals himself behind his work. Mozart does not give the listener time to catch his breath, for no sooner is one inclined to reflect upon a beautiful inspiration than another appears, even more splendid, which drives away the first, and this continues on and on, so that in the end one is unable to retain any of these beauties in the memory. If any fault had to be found in Mozart, it could surely be only this: that such abundance of beauty almost tires the soul, and the effect of the whole is sometimes obscured thereby. But happy the artist whose only fault lies in all too great perfection. Does it not seem as if Mozart's works become fresher and fresher the oftener we hear them? If we cannot write with the beauty of Mozart, let us at least try to write with his purity. Beethoven I take twice a week, Haydn four times, and Mozart every day! Before Mozart, all ambition turns to despair. Mozart encompasses the entire domain of musical creation, but I've got only the keyboard in my poor head. What gives Bach and Mozart a place apart is that these two great composers never sacrificed form to expression. As high as their expression may soar, their musical form remains supreme and all-efficient. The most tremendous genius raised Mozart above all masters, in all centuries and in all the arts. In Bach, Beethoven and Wagner we admire principally the depth and energy of the human mind; in Mozart, the divine instinct. Together with the puzzle, Mozart gives you the solution. I find consolation and rest in Mozart's music, wherein he gives expression to that joy of life which was part of his sane and wholesome temperament. Mozart tapped the source from which all music flows, expressing himself with a spontaneity and refinement and breathtaking rightness. Mozart's music is particularly difficult to perform. His admirable clarity exacts absolute cleanness: the slightest mistake in it stands out like black on white. It is music in which all the notes must be heard. Mozart shows a creative power of such magnitude that one can virtually say that he tossed out of himself one great masterpiece after another. Mozart's music is free of all exaggeration, of all sharp breaks and contradictions. The sun shines but does not blind, does not burn or consume. Heaven arches over the earth, but it does not weigh it down, it does not crush or devour it. The works of Mozart may be easy to read, but they are very difficult to interpret. The least speck of dust spoils them. They are clear, transparent, and joyful as a spring, and not only those muddy pools which seem deep only because the bottom cannot be seen. I never heard so much content in so short a period. Mozart 's music is very mysterious. Mozart resolved his emotions on a level that transformed them into moods uncontaminated by mortal anguish, enabling him to express the angelic anguish that is so peculiarly his own. Designing an opera by Mozart is like doing something for God-it's a labor of love. I my dreams of heaven, I always see the great Mozart gathered in a huge hall in which they are reside. Only Mozart has his own suite. Mozart's joy is made of serenity, and a phrase of his music is like a calm thought; his simplicity is merely purity. It is a crystalline thing in which all the emotions play a role, but as if already celestially transposed. Moderation consists in feeling emotions as the angels do. Mozart said profound things and at the same time remained flippant and lively. Mozart began his works in childhood and a childlike quality lurked in his compositions until it dawned on him that the Requiem he was writing for s a stranger was his own. Mozart touched no problem without solving it to perfection. Mozart's music is the mysterious language of a distant spiritual kingdom, whose marvelous accents echo in our inner being and arouse a higher, intensive life. The best of Mozart's works cannot be even slightly rewritten without diminishment. Mozart is the greatest composer of all. Beethoven created his music, but the music of Mozart is of such purity and beauty that one feels he merely found it-that it has always existed as part of the inner beauty of the universe waiting to be revealed. Most of all I admire Mozart's capacity to be both deep and rational, a combination often said to be impossible. Sometimes the impact of Mozart's music is so immediate that the vision in the mind remains blurred and incomplete, while the soul seems to be directly invaded, drenched in wave upon wave of melancholy. Mozart combined high formality and playfulness that delights as no other composition in any other medium does. It is hard to think of another composer who so perfectly marries form and passion. In Mozart's music, all intensity are crystallized in the clearest, the most beautifully balanced and proportioned, and altogether flawless musical forms. The sonatas of Mozart are unique: too easy for children, too difficult for adults. Children are given Mozart to paly because of the quantity of notes; grown ups avoid him because of the quality of notes. There are three thing in the world I love most: the sea, Hamlet, and Don Giovanni. Lengthy immersion in the works of other composers can tire. The music of Mozart does not tire, and this is one of its miracles. Mozart has reached the boundary gate of music and leaped over it, leaving behind the old masters and moderns, and posterity itself. Mozart, prodigal heaven gave thee everything, grace and strength, abundance and moderation, perfect equilibrium. Who has reached the extreme limits of scale with the same infallible precision, equally guarded against the false refinement of artificial elegance and the roughness of spurious force? Who has better known how to breathe anguish and dread into the purest and most exquisite forms? It is a real pleasure to see music so bright and spontaneous expressed with corresponding ease and grace. Give Mozart a fairy tale and he creates without effort an immortal masterpiece. Mozart was able to do what he wished in music and he never wished to so what was beyond him. I listened to the pure crystalline notes of one of Mozart's concertos dropping at my feet like leaves from the trees. What was evident was that Mozart was simply transcribing music completely finished in his head. And finished as most music is never finished. Displace one note and there would be diminishment. Displace one phrase and structure would fall. I was staring through the cage of those meticulous ink strokes at Absolute Beauty. Mozart's music is constantly escaping from its frame, because it cannot be contained in it. Mozart combines serenity, melancholy, and tragic intensity into one great lyric improvisation. Over it all hovers the greater spirit that is Mozart's-the spirit of compassion, of universal love, even of suffering--a spirit that knows no age, that belongs to all ages. 21 piano sonatas, 27 piano concertos, 41 symphonies, 18 masses, 13 operas, 9 oratorios and cantata, 2 ballets, 40 plus concertos for various instruments, string quartets, trios and quintets, violin and piano duets piano quartets, and the songs. This astounding output includes hardly one work less than a masterpiece. What a picture of a better world you have given us, Mozart!
7月30日 Recent Movements I have been toiling on a speech script for a week now, and am still working on it. I have revised it a dozen times. It has been changed so much that the original ideas are nowhere to be found. I tried to complain a little to Mum,hoping she would at least soothe me a bit. It was not much help. She said I was the one who decided I should like to major in English, and I should suffer whatever the consequences. She even went as far as tell me that it was only the beginning of a lifelong torment--if I find revising a paper a dozen times a torment. I had to admit she did have a point there. Well Mum, you'll be happy to know that I am beginning to enjoy this task. I mean it, really.
Do not let us dwell on seemingly unpleasant subjects. I will talk about something more cheerful. I went the other day with Mama to the library of NJU's Foreign Language Department. I had been there before, but that was when I did know much about English and English Literature. Boy, was I exited when I went into storeroom after storeroom to see dusty old original copies of English novels. I simply could not tear myself away from the shelves. It is lucky that Mama is the teacher there, so she can borrow 15 books at a time and keep them for 3 months. I helped myself to those lovely books to my heart's content. The librarian's eyes popped out when she saw the profound books I borrowed, knowing that I had just graduated from high school. Well, it felt great to have others in awe of me. It is perhaps vain. I will try to check it another time. Perhaps I shall begin by switching vanity to pride. After all, Mr. Darcy has remarked that:" Vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride, where there is a real superiority of mind pride will be always under good regulation."
I am now almost sure that no one really reads my writings on my space. That is one of the original reason I chose to write in English. But know it hurts a little. Just a little. I am not too self-conscious.
Though no one will read my blog, I still want to post this question here. It is like this, I have recently got it into my head that I want to buy a new cotton bag. It should be neither too thin nor too thick, deep-colored with simplicity in design, big enough to contain 3 copies of National Geographic at once, and above all, inexpensive. Do any of you ladies know where such a beauty could be found in Nanjing?
August.1st
Mozart's Short Biography in his mother tongue!
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart Familie letztes von 7 Kindern nur Mozart und seine 4 1/2 Jahre ältere Schwester Nannerl (eigentlich Anna Maria) überlebten das Kindesalter Vater: Leopold Mozart, Mutter: Anna Maria Mozarts Vater war der erste Musiker in der Buchbinder- und Steinmetzfamilie Allgemeines Mozart hatte 6 Kinder weder Mozart noch seine Frau konnten mit Geld umgehen so lebte Mozart in Armut und mit Schulden, obwohl er sehr viel verdiente Mozart hatte ein heiteres Wesen und wenig Respekt vor adligen Leuten
Daten Mozart wurde im Dom von Salzburg auf den Namen Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus getauft, die ersten beiden Vornamen ließ er wegfallen, den letzten übersetzte er ins Lateinische Amadeus (=von Gott geliebt) * 27.01.1756 in Salzburg (Österreich) besuchte nie eine Schule, sondern widmete sein ganzes Leben der Musik war schon als Kind ein Genie spielte für den Adel am Hofe Jan. 1762: Reise nach München Sep. 1762-Jan. 1763: Wien Mozart erkrankte Nov. 1763: Paris Apr. 1764: nach London in London traf Mozart Johann Christian Bach, von dem er sehr beeindruckt war
1765 Reise nach Holland Mozart erkrankte lebensgefährlich an Bauchtyphus 1766 Rückkehr nach Paris und dann nach Salzburg Sep. 1767: Wien Mozart erkrankte an Blattern Jan. 1769-1777: Konzertmeister beim Salzburger Erzbischof 1777: Konzertreise nach Paris 1777: Mozart verliebt sich in Aloysia (sie wollte Opernsängerin werden) der Vater war gegen eine Heirat der beiden, da die Familie Weber nicht wohlhabend war Aug. 1782: Mozart heiratet Aloysias Schwester Constanze Weber, da Aloysia schon verheitatet war März 1781: Mozart kam nach Wien, auf Wunsch des Erzbischof von Salzburg, bei dem Mozart arbeitete 1778: Mozarts Mutter starb Rückkehr nach Salzburg 1779: Hoforganist in Salzburg 1781: Übersiedelung nach Wien Mozart weigerte sich, nach Salzburg zurückzukehren (Salzburg im Gegensatz zu Wien provinziell) Mozart wurde mit Fußtritten aus dem Hause gejagt ab nun freischaffender Künstler 1782: Heirat mit Constanze Weber 1784: Freundschaft mit Haydn in Wien wohnte er bei Aloysia Webers Mutter 1787: Salieri schnappte ihm eine Stellung als Hofkapellmeister am Hofe von Kaiser Joseph II. weg (Mozart erhielt nur die minder bezahlte Stelle des Kammermusikers) Mozart verachtete ihn fortan 1790: Mozarts Gesundheitszustand verschlechterte sich 1787: Mozarts Vater stirbt 05.12.1791 in Wien Todesursache: offiziell: rheumatisches Fieber 1994 untersuchte man Mozarts Schädel und stellte als Todesursache Schädelbasisbruch fest (durch Sturz im Alkoholrausch) böse Theorien: von Salieri aus Neid vergiftet sonstige Theorien: Nierenleiden
Musik schon mit 6 Jahren schrieb er seine erste Komposition, mit 12 seine erste Oper einzigartige Melodien strömten nur so aus ihm heraus Mozart war ein ausgezeichneter Violinist der österreichische Klarinettist Anton Stadler regte ihn zur Komposition mehrerer Stücke an, z.B. zum Klarinettenkonzert in A-Dur, daß er für die von Stradler entwickelte Altklarinette, die tiefer und voller klang, schrieb Epoche: Wiener Klassik Seine Kompositionen sind mit den Buchstaben "KV" versehen, nach Baron Köchel, der im 19.Jh. ein Verzeichnis von Mozarts Gesamtwerk anlegte über 600 Werke: 40 Sinfonien , 9 Opern, 8 Singspiele , Solokonzerte, Kammermusik, Messen, 27 Klavierkonzerte, 1 unvollendetes Requiem, "Le nozze di Figaro" (=Figaros Hochzeit, opera buffa, 1786), Klarinettenkonzert in A-Dur (Okt. 1791), "Eine kleine Nachtmusik" "Bastien und Bastienne" (Singspiel), "La finta semplice" (=Die verstellte Einfalt, opera buffa), "Mitridate, re di Ponto" (=Mithridates, König von Pontos, opera seria), "Lucio Silla" (Musikdrama), "La finta giardiniera" (=Die Gärtnerin aus Liebe, opera buffa), "Il re pastore" (=Der König als Hirte, Musikdrama), "Idomeneo" (Musikdrama), "Die Entführung aus dem Serail" (Singspiel), "Der Schauspieldirektor" (Komödie), "Don Giovanni", "Così fan tutte" (opera buffa), "La clemenza di Tito (=Titus, opera seria), "Die Zauberflöte" (Oper) 7月24日 Papa's Birthday Tomorrow!To Dad That one could ever have Aside from being a wise old chap He’s fun and can make you laugh
He is learned, smart, and scholarly But also up-to-date He knows what happened in history As well as the fashion of late
Dad is also good at sports His moves are simply enchanting He plays balls of any sort With a skill absolutely amazing
It’s a treat to talk with Dad For he’s wise and fun, I’ve said You never know what he has In store in his excellent head
If you’ve got trouble in your way And don’t know what to do Better ask for my daddy’s aid He is sure to pull you through
Every word I’ve written here Is as true as true can be If you doubt it, then it’s clear You are less fortunate than me
My dad’s got other qualities But I shall write another time Surely you can see the difficulties For me to find words that rhyme
Writing good poems is an art I clearly don’t master well But this lousy piece contains my heart It might pass, who could tell
Now Dad shall have a grin on his face And realizes what day it is today We’ll sing him a song of joy and grace Which ends in a clear and loud ‘Hurray’! 7月16日 My recent movements 1.We had a little reunion the other day. It took place in a quaint little restaurant. I sure was glad to see my old buddies again. Although we haven't seen one another for quite a long time, there did not seem to be any problem for us to fall into the old familiar entercourse.
Two of my old friends have been accepted by NJU. Good, there will be at least two people I like in my new school life.
I have also learnt that the only person I really hated ( and still hate for that matter) in my primary school years had failed his College Entrance Exam and will be doing his Senior 3 year AGAIN! I am sorry to own it, but I was overjoyed by the news. It is a bit evil I will admit. But I cannot help it. So forgive me, dear God.
We played a card game called UNO for the whole afternoon. The rule is simple. The game doesn't require much thinking. All the same, I lost dismally. I have never been good at cards, you know.
2.I accepted a task that is going to make my life hell for the summer( As a matter of fact it already has). I shan't say more about it, but it is going to be a tougher summer than I have expected. Don't worry, I haven't joined a secret force or something of the sort( I am good patriotic Chinese citizen).
3. Found this line on the preface of a book called 1,000 Places You Must Visit Before You Die, loved it and am going to quote it here:
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the places and moments that take our breath away.
4. Wrote a poem for dear Papa's 53th birthday. Going to post it here on Jul.25th. Please be sure to drop in and give him a good cheer on that day. Thanks a million! Danke Schon! Merci!Xie Xie La! 7月4日 My LOVELY Days Extraordinary though it might sound, I have cought a cold. Even I do not see how I managed that. I have not eaten anything cold( my doctor absolutely forbids that), nor have I stayed in a air-conditioned room( understand we live but a modest life). There is no way I could have caught a cold in the middle of the summer!
I am now spending my lovely holiday coughing as though I would be dead the next minute, sniffing till my poor parents cannot stand the sound any longer, and as it is summer, sweating furiously.
What have I done to deserve this?
Now, in addition to my usual Chinese medicine, I have to take asprin. I take so many kinds of pills and syrup these days that I have ceased to think myself as human, but as a first-aid medicine kit.
As to my other problem which requires the treatment from traditional Chinese medicine, well, I am happy to say that my blood test showed that I am improving. Perhaps it will not be long before I cease to drink the disgusting herb broth.
At present, however, I still have to drink it. And do not ask me about the flavor! Every time I drink it, it reminds me of World War II with itsstrong smell of blood. I dare say my imagination is a bit rich. But it does taste HORRIBLE.
Perhaps it is because of my present state of health, I suddenly find this poem bewitchingly charming:
When I am Dead, My Dearest
Christina Georgina Rossetti
When I am dead, my dearst,
Sing no sad songs to me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress-tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall no hear teh nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set.
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.
Beautiful, isn't it?
6月24日 ...Nothing to write about...Haven't been here for ages. But no apologies. Have been enjoying my life.
I love being idle.
I love having lots of time at my commend.
I love spending the whole day reading classics.
I love lying in bed listening to Mozart.
I love practising my clarinet even though I can only produce a lot of noise.
Life is too short. I am gonna enjoy it while I can. 6月14日 Achtzehn, Eighteen, 18Wenn du einmal Geburtstag hast 5月26日 Damn!(Jun. 9th)This blasted thing is out of order again! I am not allowed to update my Space. This is the only solution I can think of, revising my old diary. But I really don't like it. Maybe one day I will quit the Space after all. People like me, as I have observed countless times, belong to another era, and should have no business meddling with modern technology.
Have finished reading Die Zauberflote. Really, my German is not too bad! The following song is called Wien, du Stadt meine Taume. It is not, unfortunately, composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. I find the lyrics charmingly appealing. Just change Wien into Salzburg and then it will be perfect. Mein Herz und mein Sinn Refrain:
5月22日 Mozart~Die Zauberflote~I have been wrapped up in Mozart's operas lately, in Die Zauberflote to be specific.
Got quite overwhelmed every time I hear it.
Why didn't Mama sent me to take voice lessons when I was young? I might have become a great soprano.
I greatly recommend the 1967's recording of Die Zauberflote, with conductor Karl Bohm, Fritz Wunderlich as Tamino, Dietrich Fisher-Dieskau as Papageno, Roberta Peters as Queen of the Night and Franz Crass as Sarastro.
Wunderlich's voice is amazing. He is the perfect and the greatest Tamino ever. His singing can move me to tears.
Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau is my favorite baritone, or possibly my favorite opera singer. His Papageno is lively, sensitive, funny, loyal, and in fact, everything Papageno has got to be. By the way, his Count Almaviva in The Marriage of Figaro is also superb.
Roberta Peters's Die Konigin der Nacht is astounding. Her voice is beyond believe.
Franz Crass is wonderful Sarastro, which means a good deal, since Sarastro's voice is "the only voice fit for God"(of course, that compliment was paid to Mozart, by George Bernard Shaw).
Above all, there is Mozart. Without him, all must be in vain.
He is the greatest of all the composers. No argument.
"When the angels sing for God, they sing Bach. But I am sure that when they sing to each other, they sing Mozart--and God listens." ---Karl Barth 5月14日 Der Vogelfanger bin ich, ja!I've been thinking it over and decided not to call myself Amadeus any longer. The name is too sacred for someone who is as stupid and ambisionless as me. I will keep it and when someday I deserve it I will change back into it. So, at present I am Papageno. This chap is more like me: lazy, silly, an epicure and without a care in the world. Der Vogelfanger bin ich, ja! Stets lustig, heisa, hopsassa! Ich Vogelfanger bin bekannt, Bei Alt und Jung in ganzen Land! 5月13日 May.13thIt took me four days to get throught to this damn blasted thing. I hate the Internet agency we selected. It seemed a great mistake. Nothing particular happened. Unless you count that Mr. Butcherman went to Canada on May. 10th(or probably 11th, I don't know exactly). I wrote him an e-mail demanding, yes, demanding him to keep in touch. He agreed, but frankly I don't have much faith in him. It is sad to be sceptical of one's friend. But there it is, I can't help it. I reviewd Whoopi Goldberg's Sister Act the other day. I do love this movie, even though it is about pop music winning over classical. There are times when you simply have to set aside your personal preferrance and get yourself unprejudiced into the story. Whoopi Goldberg is just marvelous. She is really what you call an Artist. She has no beauty, no figure and she is black. But her acing skill is unbelievable. She can be comical, serious, heartless and sensitive. I love her! And Maggie Smith, that is another of my favorite actress. Her acting range is very wide. She started out playing the beautiful heroines in Shakespeare's plays with Lawrence Olivier. And she later has created many many memoriable characters like Mrs. Medlock in The Secret Garden, Charlotte in A Room with a View, Aunt Betsey in BBC's David Copperfield, and most recently, Prof. McGonagall in the Harry Potter series. I am studying the script of Die Zauberflöte now. It is really very difficult considering how poor my German is. But it is great fun. And it gives me a sense of feeling closer to Mozart. I will need a bigger dictionary though. Mine is too small for the task. Well, that is about all I can think of to say now. I will be back some other time. That is, if the Internet is friendly and benevolent. Amen!
5月7日 "Zebra in the zoo, How do you do?" I went to the zoo today with Pa, on purpose to see the flamingos. We saw them all right. But they just didn't seem right. At least they were not as red as I had expected. It must be because of the environment and the food.
Almost every creature, except the tourist of course, in the zoo seemed drawsy, lacking in spirit and pathetic. Only a flock of geese and ducks looked normal to us.
When I am properous I am going to Africa to see real animals.
I also saw the giraffes today. They are one of the most graceful kind of animals on earth, and beautiful too, with long eye lashes, big eyes, wonderfully shaped neck and beautiful color. But what strikes me most is their expressions: calm, mild and wise. These are what make them so enchanting. 5月5日 Report I went to Granny's for the May Day Holidays. Granny's garden is marvelous: flowers every where, birdies singing and our fat black cat purring in the sun. Life can be wonderful.
Had a few hearty meals with relatives. Oh, my weight... Well, there is no point crying over "eaten meals".
Got home today with Papa and was caught in the rain, wet to the skin.
Finished reading Sister Carrie by Dreiser and starting to read Henry Esmond by Thackeray.
Some friends are leaving on 10th for Canada. Feeling a bit melancholy, just a little bit.
Planning to go the zoo someday when it is fine. I have heard that they have got a bunch of flamingos in there.
Going to attatch some pictures taken at Granny's. Hope those who sees them like them.
4月27日 Well, I suppose I shall have to write something every now and then. But there is nothing very exciting to write about. Life is the same as usual. Learning German by myself as usual and feeling extremely puzzled by it as usual. Dying to go to Salzburg as usual and having utterly no chance to do so as usual. Worrying about my weight as usual and powerless to resist the temptation from snacks as usual. Beating my brains out to write something astonishing as usual and failing dismally as usual. 4月23日 Apr.23rdAs I understand, today is quite a special day. First, it's Earth Day. Second, it's World Reading Day. Third, it's the 57th anniversary of Nanjing's Liberation. And finally, my friend Michelle has been an adult for a month by now.
I watched the first episode of BBC's The Genius of Mozart yesterday and I was furious! Where on earth do they find such an idiot and scoundrel-like man to portrait Mozart? And why on earth do they have to make Mozart behave like a rascal? I mean, yes, he might have misbehaved a bit when he was in his early 20s, but is there the necessity to expose it and detail it? Mozart is an angel—a god, if you like—whatever his conduct might have been. To be just, the narration is fine, the music fantastic (Of course, since it was composed by Mozart), the costume correct, the landscape beautiful and the boy who played child Mozart adorable. But the actor who played adult Mozart ruined it all. He does not look innocent and childlike enough. He is too worldly. He does play the pianoforte with the easy and confidence that is typical of a great performer like Mozart. In short, he just cannot be Mozart. Now the 1984 Oscar winning film Amadeus is much better. I strongly recommend it. I never knew BBC could do so terrible a job. I understand from my former experience they are very good at making TV mini-series. 1995's Pride and Prejudice is the best of its kind I have seen. And Emma, David Copperfield, Wives and Daughters and Tess of d'Urbervilles are also jobs well done. But this time… I really have nothing more to say except to quote Darcy's words in Pride and Prejudice that:" I am grieved indeed.Grieved, shocked." 4月22日 The result of sleeping too much...I dreamt of Mozart the other night. Much as I admire him, I have never dreamt of him before. He is a saint, an angel to me. Dreaming of him seems too worldly, not celestial enough. But I dreamt of him the other night (of course I have been having a lot of sleep lately, maybe that accounts for this). It was quite wild, really. I was having lunch (possibly dinner?) in a small restaurant. The surrounding was plain and even a little bit dirty. But oddly enough the restaurant had an orchestra. I sat there eating my noodle (oh, how ghastly!) and they began to play. It was Mozart's Violin Concerto (at least I believed so in my dream) they played. I happened to look around and saw none other than Mozart himself sitting at the next table! He was leaving. And all of a sudden I began to sob and weep. (Strange, I almost never do these in reality). He turned and came to me. Smiling, he passed his hand on my head in a saintly manner and I felt I was the happiest creature on earth. All the while, I didn't distinguish his face. I simply felt that it was him and knew it was so. Well, anything may happen in a dream. I am no Freud, but I certainly would like to know what there was in this dream. Usually I end my writing about Mozart in the following manner. I hope you do not mind. Oh! I want to go to Salzburg!!! 4月21日 More about meFor those of you wishing to know more of me, here is a poem I composed years ago about myself. Don’t fancy me being too conceited or anything. Read it just for fun.
Chen Xing (yes, that is my real name) Even though she's not glamorous And she's a little fat Chen Xing is marvelous Make no mistake about that
She is fond of literature And has a passion for art She also believes motion pictures Can make people really smart
She wishes to go to Austria That is Mozart's home Or walk in the streets of America Staring at the Capital Dome
Chen Xing is a noble daughter At least her parents think it true She brings the family laughter By telling jokes you never knew
Though Chen Xing is so wonderful There's one thing that gives her pain Despite her great love for travel She's afraid to ride in a plane
She lives in Jiangsu Province To meet her you should first call You'd better offer some presents Or she won't speak to you at all! 4月20日 Announcement I have been thinking and decided that I hereby withdraw what I said earlier about not writing about my information and stuff. It was stupid really, for were I to do as I said there would be nothing to write about. So, I will write and gossip and make a big fool of myself. And I willsometimes write in Chinese. That is after all my mothertongue. Finally I have meditated and contemplated for a long time and finally decided to bring myself up-to-date. It was not an easy decision to make, especially for a quite conservative person like me. I have often felt that I would be very much better off in the 18th or 19th Century. But as I cannot help when I am to be born, I might as well keep up with the pace of the times.
Very very sorry to some of my friends. I peeked through your spaces as I was deciding whether or not I should establish one of my own and read some words that were evidently not intended for me to read. My apologies for that. I shall strive to forget them as soon as I can.
I have to warn those who might be interested in this small land that I am an amazingly lazy person and am not too fond of parading my information, which includes my emotions, my actions and my plans for my future, etc.. They are too personal to my standard. Again, as I have mentioned, my ideas remain long before the 21st Century. And I am not a gregarious person. I am not particularly fond of society.
And forgive me for writing in English. This is in fact one of the reasons why I have made up my mind to open a Space. It would be much more pleasant to do my "free writing" (That is a new method of practising writing in case you do not understand. One of its main advantages is that you do not have to be restrained by a theme and can concentrate on your language skills. For those of you who want to improve your English language skills, I recommend this method. I have been doing it for years and believe me it does help.) on a computer than in a notebook. My handwriting is beginning to stink. Looking at it make me furious and spoils my writing mood.
I think that is enough for today. I might be back tomorrow. But I do not guarantee it.
Auf Wiedersehen! |
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