musicians of old

Chapter 880 Nighttime Ramblings (Part 1): The Congregation
First came the lakebed, then the woodland; first came thirst, then abundance.

There is much loss and paleness, but solace and starlight endure.

Waves surged from all sides of the woodland, rising to the surface of the water, and everything became the river and embankment in the night. Fanning continued to walk quietly ahead.

His posture changed; the "Illyrian" guitar was slung behind his back, while the "Night Watchman's Lamp," which had been hanging at his waist, was now held in his hand and extended forward.

Fanning collected a batch of "starlight" and used it to illuminate and dispel darkness for the people he collected.

To acknowledge and address their pain and regrets.

The black mist on the river surface remained thick, and the water foam carried an oily, saturated color. Irregular, overlapping arcs of water eroded the surface, only to slowly seep away again.

People followed him at night.

The boy and his congregation running out of Leipzig Cathedral; Sheeran, Roy, and Joan sitting leisurely by Lake Mertraun or lost in thought on the edge of the cliff at the "X-coordinate"; Teacher Gu, Principal Steinike, Professor Huxley, and Sir Viardin setting down their glasses at the celebratory feast; Luna and Anne, survivors of the South.
People followed him at night.

“Counterpoint.” On the pale white lecture hall platform, Fanning, dressed in a gleaming suit, slowly uttered the new word, his gaze becoming profound. “Its core concept is not the vertical stacking of 'chords,' but the horizontal interweaving of 'lines.'”

“Each called voice retains its own complete melodic character and logic of progression. They must adhere to their own principles while coexisting harmoniously with other voices.”

The lecture notes on "Harmony" had been closed, and another thick classic was laid out on the podium by Fanning.

This action itself carries a sense of ritual, as if opening a door to something more ancient and glorious.

Fan Ning explained the basic counterpoint rules of one-on-one and one-on-two, using chalk to draw pure lines like hymns on a stained blackboard, and talked about the "taboo" in the traditional context—the emptiness of parallel fifths and octaves, the "goal"—the avoidance of hidden fifths and octaves, and the "redemption"—the tension and relaxation brought about by elements such as passing notes, antecedent notes, lingering notes, and appoggiaturas.

People followed his enlightenment.

The number of lingering, shadowy figures in the corridor outside the classroom window is also increasing.

Some starlight, shrouded in a hazy mist yet imbued with a rational silvery-gray hue, quietly rose from all directions.

There is also an extremely thick starlight, like molten gold.

Fanning walked quietly ahead, carrying a lantern.

People followed him on his night journey.

"Lavoisier is my shepherd; I will not want."

“He made me lie down in green pastures, and led me beside still waters. He restored my spirit and guided me in the paths of righteousness in his own name.”

The poems that were once sung along the banks of the River Heights resonate once more in lost time and space.

A strange and complex fragrance lingered in the nose and respiratory tract, while the malice of the "Midday Moon" eternally watched over the earth.

But a faint starlight always flickered in the lamps ahead.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for he is with me; his rod and his staff, they comfort me.

"He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies; he anoints my head with oil, and my cup overflows; surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life."

Everything was just like the scene of Saint-Lavoisier walking along the riverside path on the eve of the Harvest Arts Festival.

The congregation was no longer completely silent followers.

A few silhouettes support each other, several people chat and laugh and look around, some of them humming tunes from several parts of the "Night Journey" melody, inspired by its flowing sounds.

At some point, the conductor, dressed in an expensive suit, with a slightly haggard smile and a receding hairline, also appeared in the night crowd. He had a workbook tucked under his arm, and the fountain pen on the top of the workbook gleamed with gold.

"Daddy, are dreams always real?" Little Eileen's sweet, childish voice came from within.

“Whether you’re awake or dreaming, it’s all real!” the conductor laughed.

"So, when I speak, or play the violin, you can hear me?"

"I know everything."

Ding-dong~~ The sound of cowbells rang out along with the string section's song. Melodious and ethereal, it was like the sound of bells imitated by the glockenspiel or celesta in the "First Light" movement.

Fan Ning walked quietly ahead with a lantern. A lonely, dilapidated tomb on the riverbank had weathered and crumbled, and a blazing, bright white starlight swirled up.

Light in the Phonograph Case, Gilbert Caplund.

Once, for a generation, fate buried the image of his life in that narrow and dark space. No one was so lonely, driven by indescribable fear, exhausted, and left with only bitter thoughts.

The conductor died young; he was taken away, leaving behind the world he loved, his weeping family, and his timid friends. His charming lips drank the dark chalice filled with unspeakable pain—people commemorate him, fearing that the contagious, wicked narrative might one day befall them.

The moment of stagnation at "noon" approached in extreme fear. People struggled desperately against the terror of ancient dissolution, but the old world still weighed heavily on him. He looked earnestly at his loved ones once more, and at that moment, eternal love reached out a touching hand, allowing him to reappear in a new and more solemn form and descend upon this unrecognizable world.

He gradually fell asleep, and he followed along.

The second movement begins with a horn motif that gradually fades away.

"A gift, this is a gift! A New Year's gift!!"

Caplund picked up a red ball and tossed it straight into the air above the audience.

Please accept our New Year's greetings!

The conductor spread his hands into a trumpet shape, tilted his head back and shouted loudly, while retreating repeatedly.

"Yay!" "Happy New Year!!!"

The radiant smiles of countless people were captured in the clicks of the camera, while colorful, glittering pieces of paper spun and danced under the glow of the crystal chandelier.

Through these pieces of paper, Fanning could see the entire symphony hall.

It was such a grand and wonderful scene, with all my friends gathered together.

That scene in the old photo?
Fanning, carrying a lantern, stood to the side of the stage in the symphony hall, gazing at this eternal, unforgettable moment of joy before her.

Master Schillings, Master Niemann, and a younger version of himself in a tuxedo are in the center; Caplan and Olga laugh side by side, with little Irene held in Olga's arms; old Mrs. Hamilton leans on a cane in one hand and holds a thick stack of greeting cards in the other, her eyes crinkling with laughter.
Miss Roy, dressed in her finest attire and all smiles; Sir Viardrin, beaming with pride; several of her old school subordinates standing there, striking a pose reminiscent of tourists taking photos; Joan, standing on tiptoe and brandishing her flute; and finally, Lu, extending two timpani mallets from the back.
Ok.

It actually looks pretty convincing.

Fan Ning suddenly smiled for no apparent reason.

In the final section of "Night Walk," the bugle call fades away like a long sigh, while in this "symphony hall," an echo of its own "resurrected" finale is simultaneously superimposed.
The "Ascension Motif" is repeated firmly, and the sound of redemption resounds to the ends of the earth, especially the last glorious E-flat major chord, which is powerfully struck out by the entire orchestra with overwhelming force.

The hall was suddenly filled with light, as if the gates of heaven had been opened.

Flowers, applause, flashing lights, the glow of musical instruments, and the untroubled smiles on people's faces.
Well, if we simply apply the "mirror music structure" of the second movement, there's nothing wrong with it.

After all, for most of the time before setting off, Fanning did indeed have a deep obsession with, and even indulge in, things like school days, youthful triumphs, gatherings, and celebrations.

If there were a piece of music with a "12321" or "ABCBA" structure, returning to the last "1" or "A" and then re-entering the echo of celebration and festivities, that would be quite plausible.

But Fanning has already collected those "starlight" moments.

Only he himself can truly understand the specific feelings involved.

Musical structure has a mirror image, but the divine "pilgrimage" never goes backwards; one must always learn to reconcile with oneself.

"Analyzing my 'Night Pilgrimage' route and the shape of my dream?" Fan Ning paced slowly amidst the applause of the audience. "Although the Special Patrol Department is bored and likes to urge others to organize gatherings, they shouldn't be coming up with any stupid ideas that would backfire on them at this time. So, who is it, the remaining one?"

A female audience member ran onto the stage and presented Fanning with a bouquet of flowers.

Fan Ning glanced at her, raised her hand, and laid down her paddle.

"boom!!"

Several crisscrossing vertical marks filled with light appeared on the face of this "spectator" in an instant, and then the next moment, his entire head exploded in front of Fan Ning!