Please, come home and practice the piano

Chapter 1405, Section 625: A Sound from Beyond the Heavens!

Like the calm after a storm.

It's like moonlight quietly falling in the dead of night.

Derived from the secondary theme of the first movement, the second movement features a gentle rhythm wrapped in the ingenious structure of a compound ternary form.

The most lingering and lyrical section of the entire concerto.

Every word and phrase is etched with the most delicate emotional wrinkles of Rachmaninoff's heart.

As the piano gradually fades from its leading role, it softly sings in accompaniment, and the flowing chords weave a gentle net, instantly spreading a peaceful and tranquil atmosphere throughout the entire concert hall.

The main theme immediately captivated the audience with its expansive range, its melody imbued with a hazy longing, much like the romance Rachmaninoff composed in his early years based on Minsky's poetry.

"The surging sea fell in love with the silent coast."

As the music tempo subtly quickens, the melody instantly comes alive.

The band fades into the background, only occasionally repeating fragments of the theme, handing the stage back to the piano.

In the video, Ang Lee's fingertips roam freely across the piano keys, his wrists turning slightly with a relaxed strength, and the music becomes like a fantasy that expresses inspiration.

The melody is full, rich, and colorful, making it very catchy.

The tonality shifts several times in the movement, and each key change brings a new surprise. Those musical phrases that others might find difficult enough to make their fingertips cramp are handled with ease by him.

Now let's look at the orchestra.

The violin bowstring trembled slightly.

The clarinet has a deep and resonant tone.

The instruments worked together in perfect harmony, bringing out the lyrical quality of the piano to its fullest extent.

"when!"

Suddenly the rhythm in the music tightened abruptly.

The gaps between the notes were filled with tension, and the melody's tension was stretched to its limit until it suddenly slowed down and stopped.

The next second, the piano's heavy notes slammed down!
The force was somewhat fierce, as if it were pressing the keys into the heart of the piano.

Everyone in the room held their breath.

All the instruments fell silent, except for the piano solo that echoed beneath the dome.

The powerful melody twisted and turned, each note imbued with the performer's resentment, echoing in the empty concert hall and making one's chest feel heavy.

After a brief monologue, the piano once again takes a backseat to the accompaniment.

The clarinet's mournful cry followed closely, echoing the piano's earlier monologue, as if conversing with the composer from a century ago.

After the dialogue ended, another piano solo was played.

As the last string of stirring notes dissipated like embers, the piano's tone suddenly faded.

Ang Lee's fingertips hovered above the piano keys, no more than a centimeter away, as if afraid of disturbing the dust in the air.

It wasn't a roar, nor a tremor, but the sound of moonlight falling on the water's surface.

The high notes are clear and crisp like shattered jade, while the low notes are deep and gentle like distant mountains. The two intertwine to form a transparent net that covers the entire concert hall.

Just then, the sound of a flute rang out.

The tone was as clean as morning mist, as pure as the wind in a secluded valley, without a trace of impurity.

It wanders along with the piano melody, sometimes high, sometimes low, and sometimes disappears into the gentle trembling of the strings.

Not only the children in the audience, but also a significant portion of the audience looked toward the flute section at that moment.

There sat a woman in a black evening gown with her hair up, holding a flute, her expression focused, and she was stunningly beautiful.

Ang Lee's fingertips were still dancing on the piano keys, but his peripheral vision secretly swept towards Chen Xuan.

In that one glance, the music suddenly took on an indescribable flavor—a bittersweet mix of sadness and joy. The flute and zither music echoed each other, one high, one low, one bright, one dark, like a pair of lovers reunited after a long separation, whispering sweet nothings.

The flute's melody is delicate and lingering, while the piano's accompaniment is warm and inclusive. Every rhythmic transition and every dynamic interplay reveals an unspoken understanding.

An occasional string note gently brushes by, adding a touch of ambiguity to the overall musical tone, like looking at the moonlight through frosted glass.

There was no booming of brass pipes, no powerful percussion, only soft, gentle sounds that drifted slowly through the hall.

Ang Lee's touch on the keys became lighter and lighter, his ten fingers seemed to be moistened with dew, and his fingertips gleamed with a faint luster.

The chords flowed so slowly it was as if time had stopped, each note seemed to breathe, and between the rises and falls, there was an indescribable sense of remoteness and melancholy.

The audience below the stage gradually forgot to breathe.

Some people closed their eyes slightly, as if they were in a vast open field, with the wind blowing past their ears, carrying the scent of grass.

Some people's eyelashes trembled slightly, like butterfly wings being brushed by the melody, fluttering back and forth.

However, the music of the zither and flute continued.

Like a mountain stream, it meanders around bluestones and flows over shallows, its destination unknown.

It is like wisps of smoke in the twilight, drifting gracefully towards the horizon, eventually merging seamlessly with the clouds.

Ethereal and timeless are probably the best descriptions of this moment.

It was as if this music did not belong to the human world, but had simply fallen into this concert hall and into the ears of this group of listeners by chance.

Slowly, the music slowed down, carrying a hint of hesitation and sluggishness, as if it were pondering something.

Until the violin in the recapitulation section cuts in like a ray of light, like the dawn piercing through the darkness.

It takes over the main melody, while the piano becomes the gentle background.

Just then, Ang Lee's left hand played arpeggios in the low register like surging waves, while his right hand played chords layer upon layer, weaving a vast sound field.

"when!"

Suddenly the music changed.

Many audience members were waiting for this moment, some even clenching their fists quietly.

The car couldn't help but mutter to itself, "The climax is here..."

A dazzling display followed.

The piano music suddenly became incredibly lively, with the melody leaping freely between various keys, like a startled butterfly flitting among flowers, a stark contrast to the tranquility of the main theme.

Without giving the audience much time to react, Ang Lee paused with both hands and exerted force again. The moment his fingertips touched the keys, he became even more precise. In the rapid rise and fall, the afterimages of his fingertips were connected between the black and white keys, so fast that it was dazzling.

The audience was once again stunned by this scene!
What kind of flexible wrist is this, that it can move the fingers to complete such complex interval leaps?
Those wide-ranging chords would have made others frown and struggle, but he handled them as if they were second nature.

As the tempo quickened, the piano music became increasingly dense.

Finally, all the notes merged into a magnificent vibrato, like a sudden rain pattering on a lotus leaf, crackling and popping, yet exuding an indescribable refreshing quality.

Ang Lee raised his arm slightly and swayed his body gently to the rhythm of the music.

When leaning forward, he is immersed in the music, his back taut and straight; when leaning back, he exudes a sense of control and composure, with a slight smile on his lips.

At that moment, it was as if he and the piano had reached a tacit understanding and danced together.

Suddenly the strings began to play loudly!

Like a thunderbolt splitting the clouds, it made people's eardrums vibrate.

The piano virtuosity gradually faded, slowly fading away, until the main theme sounded again.

As soon as the melody of the recapitulation began, everyone in the audience breathed a sigh of relief.

(End of this chapter)