The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 1234: Unique

Quietly, tenderly, Anson sang softly.

Just a guitar.

There is no other accompaniment or embellishment, but it returns to its original simplicity and pushes the power hidden in the melody and lyrics to the extreme, releasing it slowly.

Until the chorus was finished, Anson was not in a hurry to move on to the second part. His fingertips flew lightly over the strings, the melody tinkled between the bumps and collisions, and one note after another fell warmly and gracefully on the heart, dancing lightly, and his mood soared involuntarily.

Then, Miles showed up—

With his cello.

This scene is eye-opening.

The cello is relatively bulky and not so convenient to move around in daily life. When watching performances, the cello is often already in place.

But the point is, it is very rare to see the cello "really" appear on the Grammy stage; in some grand performances with orchestral music, the symphony orchestra including the cello is often hidden under the stage or behind the scenes, and they are never the focus.

Until right in front of you.

The cello came on stage and moved slowly, grunting and moving like a snail moving.

This scene is absolutely visually impactful.

No one is an exception.

Exactly two years ago, Anson, Myers and others appeared on "The Tonight Show" and brought brand new music with a novel performance style, sweeping North America.

In the eyes of professionals, this is nothing more than a gimmick. The same method is surprising once, wonderful twice, and mediocre three times. It has no reference value.

Not worth mentioning.

However, tonight?

Shocks, impacts, surprises, and surprises are endless.

The entire Staples Center was completely controlled. No one was an exception. Everyone was caught up in this storm, immersed in it, unable to extricate themselves.

Miles carried the cello to the seat just arranged by the staff, sat down with the cello in his arms, and his eyes shone brightly.

There was neither time nor energy to pay attention to the gazes of the audience. The mixed looks of astonishment and curiosity were completely directed at Anson and Miles; but Miles just adjusted his breathing and looked up at Anson.

A staggered sight.

Miles found the right entry point, pulled the bow, and the cello's iconic mellow and melodious string sounds gently and meandered into the gurgling stream of guitar strings.

Two kinds of string sounds, one high-pitched and the other low, one clear and the other mellow, one cheerful and the other long, intertwine and collide with each other to weave a new texture.

It is clearly a lightly sad and bitter emotion, but it possesses a tenacious and strong power, just like the young Forrest Gump in "Forrest Gump" -

He was covered in scars, timid, bullied by other children but didn't know how to fight back, and was considered a monster because of the braces he wore for polio. But he kept running despite stumbling, running wildly all the way, and finally broke free from the restraints of the braces and ran stubbornly and focused.

Little by little, the sunlight filled my entire chest.

Maybe, this is life.

Full of helplessness, despair and frustration, people always go around in circles searching for answers, but often return empty-handed, trapped in their own cage; but they never give up, refuse to surrender, refuse to give up, firmly grasp a ray of hope, and run at full speed.

It is incredible that such a complex and profound emotion can be expressed in the performance of Anson and Miles.

Anson looked at Miles.

Miles looked at Anson.

They looked at each other, and the sounds of the strings in their hands continued to flow and collide, stirring up a real roar.

Before I knew it, my blood started to boil, my heart started to beat wildly, and an indescribable joy and enthusiasm gushed out.

At this moment, amidst the roar and excitement, Anson began to sing again. "Memories of the past, detached from reality, unable to stand; in the kitchen, an empty chair, your place, oh." (Note 1)

Gently, slowly, quietly, hiding the sadness.

"You're furious, and rightfully so. It's not fair. Just because you can't see him doesn't mean he doesn't exist."

Those things that have passed away and disappeared seem to be irretrievable, just like dandelions, which are scattered all over the world with a gentle breeze.

Then, no one cared anymore.

Archie has experienced too many things like this.

They exist, but it's as if they don't exist; they disappear, but no one cares at all.

They shouted at the top of their lungs, but their voices were still too weak to attract any attention.

In fact, they have always been there, but in the real world, in the daily life of mainstream life, they are like ghosts and are completely ignored.

Just like tonight.

In the crowd, no one cared or paid attention to his existence. He appeared at the scene but it seemed as if he had never been seen by anyone.

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Because of this, all his friends persuaded Archie to give up, saying there was no need to waste energy.

Not only will their presence not be seen or heard, it may even become a reason for others to attack them, adding to the numerous scars.

But Anson saw it.

Anson not only saw it, but also understood it. He truly understood their beliefs and their persistence.

"If they say, who cares that another light goes out, under the billions of stars in the sky, it is flickering, flickering."

It was just a cello and a guitar, but the sound of the strings pulled out the fragility and sadness hidden in Anson's voice, so deep and so turbulent.

No one knows what Anson has been through, but Archie is willing to believe that Anson can truly understand their struggles and pain, as well as the nightmares in the endless darkness.

The singing is not perfect.

Without any embellishment or backing vocals, Anson presents himself nakedly, with all his strengths and weaknesses on display.

A bit of struggle is inevitably revealed in those slightly trembling endings, and a bit of fragility is uncontrollably hidden in those transitions between the beginning, development, climax and ending.

However, it is precisely these imperfections that make perfection, like a meteor, hitting Archie's heart hard.

"Who cares when someone's time ends? If we are just a drop in the ocean, we should hurry up and hurry up."

Quiet, yet noisy.

Small, yet magnificent.

The power of notes is expressed in Anson's singing.

Archie raised his chin slightly, staring at the big screen quietly, intently and stubbornly, watching the stage become busy again.

The staff came and went, blatantly setting up the stage in full view of the public, and then turning around and leaving after finishing their work.

This time, they added microphones on Anson's right hand side and Miles' left hand side, and of course, a keyboard on Miles' left hand side.

Connor was the first to appear, holding his bass, a little reserved and nervous, but without any way to buffer, as he rushed into the lights.

Lily, a little slower, walked briskly to the keyboard, looking at Anson and Miles with bright eyes, obviously ready.

"Who cares if another light goes out? Yes, I do."

Note 1: One-More-Light (Linkin-Park)

(End of this chapter)