CHAPTER TEN: THE SECOND STAGE OF MY VIOLIN LEARNING
Decided to be a professional violinist by stimulation
If say, my original intention of learning the violin was partly hoping to empress my father and gain his respect, from that incident (burning of my Hohmann and harming people around me) to learn the violin became completely my love for the violin, though a portion of the fondness of show-off still left. Now when I think back, the words “love for the violin” is not strong enough. To be more closely, by that time violin was the only thing and everything to me, my life interest and purpose, living content, spirit consign, and more importantly, a road or bridge leads me to the prospect of a better life.
Burned my hand-copied music notes, I could hand-copy again. Not allowed to practice violin at home, I could go out to hide myself at my secret place close to the riverbank indulging self-inebriation. But one major problem was I had no money to buy the violin strings, particularly the A string that broke very easily. I remember an A string cost 20 fen RMB, the some amount of my two lunches as I receive 10 fen lunch money from Mom everyday. (Note: I here by no mean to blame my mother. In fact it was not easy to give me 10 fen per day from her income.)
In that period if I broke a string, I would go out from the classroom to play basketball during the lunch hour. The fact of sparing lunch to buy strings was soon discovered by my classmates (girls). One day, Ouyang ming called me back to the classroom from the sports ground, and said that there was something in my drawer waiting for me. I opened my drawer; a bowl of steaming hot wonton appeared in front of my eyes. I felt awkward and shameful but looked at Ouyang Ming with thankfulness. She laughed, and explained, “You think I would be so kind? If it were not classmate Peng Manzhen put the money, I would never run you an errand.”
I searched classmate Peng hiding among the classmates and saw half of the face, blushed face. In fact I seldom talked to her. What she did for me touched me so much that until today I don’t want to forget.
I pretended to be troubled, remarked loudly, “How can I finish such a big bowl of wonton? I ate too much in the morning, and is still not digested yet, that’s why I had to go out playing basketball.”
I took the bowl, ran quickly enough at the speed not to pour the wonton out, found a place with nobody, and took a look around making sure nobody watching me, then poured the wonton into my mouth and swallowed into my stomach like a hungry prisoner, and cleaned the empty bowl up a couple of times by means of my tongue afterwards.
The problem was, since then I could not spare lunch to buy violin strings any more. I had to not only eat my lunch, but also ate in front of the whole class, soundly, in order to prevent “wonton occurrence” happening again.
This matter soon spread to the ear of Ma Xiaomao. Hence, she gave me some violin strings from time to time. What she gave to me was not cheap strings for students, but expensive “red star” strings for professionals. (The “red star” silver strings was the best China made violin strings at that time) The Oddness was the look-new-strings were all broken that need to be knotted before use. Ma could not stand my entwining, and finally told me the secret that her little friend named Duguo entered the Changsha City Opera. With her request Duguo kept all broken strings for her. Besides God only Duguo knew if those strings were broken naturally or by manpower.
Since then, I went to see Duguo very often. Although he was much younger he was half a head taller than me. The excuses of visiting him changed from beg for strings gradually to indirectly learning his violin performing technique. Although I pursued my violin studies with teacher Li, but after I got to know Duguo, somehow I started to feel that teacher Li’s method was good for beginners but might not be the best for people who wish to be a professional. Duguo was already a member of the professionals. He was taught and closely watched by his professional violin teacher therefore he progressed very fast. My trick of learning from him indirectly was, every time when I went to see him, I would ask for a piece of blank score paper, then I would hand-copy the violin excise notes he was doing, during my hand-copying I was always paying special attention to his teacher’s pencil marks, the bowing, fingering, musical expression or technique hint etc. After the copy was done I would always request Duguo to play a couple of times for me by the excuse of checking mistakes of my hand-copied notes. The rest was easy. I went back practice, twice or many more times harder than Duguo as I believed. Evidently my violin playing progress was also very obvious during the period.
Though I appeared to be very friendly to Duguo but I was truly envy him, envy his working and studying environment, especially his “Gold Bell” brand violin that worth 400 RMB when average monthly wages was 40 RMB. Each time when I saw the tiger figured maple back of his violin, I couldn’t stop my slobber dropping out from my mouth.
Another day, I was at Duguo’s room hand-copying Mozart’s No 3 violin concerto. When I just got started the leader of the orchestra called Duguo out. “I’ll lock you up from the outside. Making no noise, no body knows you are here. Take your time.”
I copied, rested, and copied. When I finished the first movement of the concerto it was time for me to go home. But I couldn’t as Duguo was still not back. I was tired and started to doze off. Though I was only 15 I was aware it was rude to falling sleep in other people’s bed. In order to keep me awake I had to walk back and forth in his little room. It was then my envy got into my eyes. The twilight through the curtain gap shined that 4th grade “Gold Bell” made it looks like a pile of gold, or to me the violin was more like a beautiful girl with tenderness and affection winkling at me. I could no longer resist my desire, step by step I got closer to her temptation. I touched her neck caused the gold bell ringing. That made me insane. I took the bow out from the case. When the bow touched the violin, the sound brought me to a wonderland.
Hence, from Duguo’s room a cripple Mozart violin concerto No 3 sounded.
At exact the high climax of my self-satisfaction a knock on the door “bang bang” woke me up. Then I heard a man’s voice, “Duguo, your rhythm today is terrible. You need more attention.”
I immediately stopped playing, kept quiet as Duguo asked me to. But the voice did not give up, “How did you locked yourself in. Is there someone pulling your legs?”
I still kept quiet as I promised Duguo. Another woman’s voice from a distance answered for me, “Duguo is not in. he is out with all other students. He wouldn’t be back until 5 pm.”
The man’s voice replied to the woman’s voice, “If Duguo is not in, who is? I heard the violin.”
“That’s impossible.” Women’s voice.
“Don’t tell me your conductor has a hearing problem.” Man’s voice.
“Who could be that? Who? If give no answer we would call the security section.” Both voices.
I had no choice but tell them I was a friend of Duguo, the one come very often.
“Alright, please open the window.” The woman indicated.
The window opened, a young lady and a man in his 30’s appeared to me.
“This is teacher Xiao, the conductor of our opera. And my name is Haung. I’m Duguo’s violin teacher.”
Teacher Huang’s friendly face made me much relaxed. I politely greeted, “Nin Hao (You good), teacher Huang, and teacher Xiao.”
Huang nodded her head and asked me with an affable smile, “Conductor Xiao said you were playing the violin. Could you play it again, for us?”
Heard that request, plus Xiao’s extraordinary serious face, my relaxed nerve became tensed again. I faltered, “Could I play something else instead of the Mozart I just tried?”
So I played the “Rosemary” by Chrysler that I felt adept as I learnt it from teacher Li. However Xiao walked away before I finished my performance. Thanks God Huang didn’t leave, instead she started to show me the more correct way of holding the violin. Meanwhile Duguo returned back. Huang left her last words to me, “You are a young man full of potential. But do watch your rhythm when you play.”
Duguo heard what happened when he was away, he said, “I was about to talk to my teacher Huang about you. For the rumor says our opera will recruit new violin students sometime soon.”
Immediately my mood was helicopter lifted, and repeatedly I begged him to go and ask teacher Huang and Xiao, ask what they thought about me and my violin playing, to see if I had any chances.”
After about ten minutes Duguo came back again.
“How was it? What did they say about me?” I was too impatient to wait.
Duguo smiled but made no comment.
“Don’t hold suspense please. I really can’t wait any longer.” I urged him.
“It’s not that I hold suspense. It is that I’m afraid you would be hurt by knowing it.”
“Nothing can hurt me. Say it now.” I pressed on him physically.
“Alright alright, it is you force me to say it. You take the consequence.” Duguo paused, and said, “Our conductor Xiao meant you got some bad amateur habit, for example bad rhythm, therefore to train you to be a professional violinist would not be easy.”
“What?” Duguo’s words not only hurt me, but also shocked me like throwing an atomic bomb into my mouth, “He said that that I got some amateur habit and not good at rhythm?” I roared.
Duguo’s face became longer, “I told you that you would be hurt, but you didn’t want to believe me...”
“Hurt? Hahaha, No no no, I’m not hurt. Go to tell that man, say to be free in rhythm is my style, and I am an amateur and happy to stay an amateur.” I make myself an exit to escape from the awkwardness, and got out from Duguo’s room. I was in such an upset state that I forgot the Mozart concerto No 3 I spent the whole afternoon hand copying.
Isn’t it true that in everyday life, it is alright for us to grow too tall, too short, too fat, too skinny, or too big nose too small eye as far as no body point out. But if someone dose point out, even nicer than the facts, our feelings would be hurt for certain.
Back home, mother’s scolding of me being too late to be home was a fruitless labor, as my mind was stuffed with conductor Xiao’s words. I was tossing and tuning all night and finally got up wrote a very emotional letter.
Next afternoon, as soon as my school was off I went to Chansha Opera again. This time I did not get into Duguo’s room but knocked at his window.
Duguo opened his window, “You forgot your music notes.” He passed it to me.
I took the notes with one hand and handed the letter to him with the other, “Do me a favor. Hand it to that Xiao, that man who beats time in your orchestra.”
Duguo looked curious and worried, “May I take a look?”
“Sure, go ahead.” I encouraged him.
Duguo opened the letter and read, “I swear to you that someday I will become the No 1 violinist in the whole Changsha City. By then you will say I am a professional. When I play the solo in my style you will have to lead your orchestra crawling and rolling to follow my rhythm.”
Duguo stopped reading, as he could not help laughing, “Jiuge (my nickname, means brother ninth), you are amazing. Even though one day you might become the No 1, how can you say that, especially now. Aren’t you afraid to be thought being too conceited and arrogant?”
“That’s what I am, conceited and arrogant, extremely. I not only want to be the No 1 in Changsha, but also No 1 in the whole Hunan province.” I bragged aggressively and confidently.
Duguo’s window was shut off.
Since then, I stopped going to Changsha Opera begging for broken strings and hand copying music notes. Nevertheless, conductor Xiao’s words had always been stimulating me that functioned as an everlasting power and energy pushing me on my road to be a professional violinist.
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