Strawberry Orange Star Night

I. Adagiomanontroppo-Pesante

"Found the orange. He's all right."

Fugo gasped as if electrocuted.Immediately, he pressed the call button to call Giorno, and within a beat of his heart, before he could raise the phone to his ear, the call was dropped by the other party.He typed the message instead.

"Where are you? I want to—" Before he finished writing, the phone vibrated again.

"Don't come."

......

Fuge's message was only half written, and the cursor in the input field flickered at the end of the sentence.He looked at the phone screen silently, and under the call bubble on the opposite side, several ellipsis kept fluctuating.

"Don't worry! It's fine. We'll talk later, we're going to perform..."

Giorno attached a cute emoji at the end of the sentence, and also sent a photo.He saw the bright orange in the right corner of the photo at a glance.It is clear at a glance that this is a retro jazz bar. From the perspective of shooting, the glowing dance floor occupies most of the composition of the photo.The musicians were immersed in the lavish music, and Nalanga was sitting at a wooden table under the stage, looking at the stage intently and listening attentively.Mista was beside him, and the gestures frozen in the photo were a little blurry.

where is thisHe needs answers.Fugo looked around, but there was no one.He rushed to the second floor, opened the doors of the piano rooms one by one, no, no, no... Finally, the door at the end of the corridor was also opened, and there was still no one in the huge ensemble rehearsal room.

Is everyone asleep...?

He staggered to the front of the grand piano, slammed his whole body on the piano bench, lowered his head, took out his mobile phone and clicked on the photo, double-clicked to enlarge the photo, and stretched his two fingers until the entire screen was full of Nalanga's face.

"...What's wrong? There's such a big commotion."

Fugo suddenly turned around and stood up, seeing Apache sitting up from the sofa, frowning and staring at himself.The two stood one by one, and after looking at each other for a few seconds, Fuge let out a nervous short laugh.

"Are you alright?" Apache raised an eyebrow and looked at Fugo.

"I just suddenly remembered that the day I first joined the orchestra, I didn't notice you lying on the sofa... I was also taken aback by you."

While laughing, Fugo wiped the tears from the laughter, walked to the edge of the sofa a few steps, and sat down next to Apache.Apache's eyes followed Fugo, his expression was indescribable.He probably thought that Fogg had gone mad at last.

After a while, Fugo finally stopped laughing and regained his strength.He handed the phone to Apache.

"Apaki, do you know where this photo was taken?"

"Oh... I know." Apache said, taking the phone and glanced at the screen.

"That--"

"That place is not bad, don't worry." Apache threw the phone back to Fugo, who caught it. "However, I advise you not to go."

"... Giorno said the same thing."

"It's rare, I agree with that kid."

Fugo said no more.He unconsciously pressed the unlock button of the phone, and the screen of the phone flickered on and off.Silence enveloped the piano room, only the sound of unlocking was soft, and the tempo was regular.

Eventually the silence was broken by the phone ringing.It's the short melody everyone knows, played on the marimba, and it's the default ringtone that Fugo always uses.Giorno's call.He answered the phone and listened to Giorno describe what happened in the bar one by one... The jazz band, the ensemble, and Naranja said he didn't want to go home.

Fugo was surprisingly calm. He listened to Giorno's eloquence, and from time to time, he only uttered one or two tone words expressing a response.The call ended in just a few minutes.He put down his phone and looked down at the screen.His mobile phone screen and unlock interface both use the same picture, white text on a red background, which is Keepcalmandpractice adapted from Keepcalmandcarryon, and the crown symbolizing the British royal family is replaced by two curved F holes symbolizing stringed instruments.

"Apaki."

"Ok?"

"I haven't had class today." He looked up and looked at Apache.Apache looked at him with a complicated expression, and stood up after a while.

The two came to Fuge's piano room.Apaki sat down on the low sofa at one side, crossed his arms, and silently watched Fugo rummaging through boxes and chests to find music scores.

Fugo found the score he wanted.He set out the music stand, sat down, bent over to open the piano case, first put rosin on the bow, then took out the piano, leaned on his knees, and pulled up the empty strings, followed by the scales, after warming up, it was practice song.The exercise assigned in the last class was 40 of 37 Popper Advanced Cello Etudes.

"That's right. It's the decoration sound here. The fingers of the left hand can be more flexible."

At the end of the song, Apache nodded. He came to Fuge and tapped the fretboard with his fingers to demonstrate for Fuge.

Fogg did so.He couldn't help but think of Naranja when he played hops.The boy stuck his finger on the key for a moment and then quickly pressed it down. His fingertips jumped up from the key flexibly, and the ornamental sound was also distinct.

"Okay. Next is the music. Let me listen to it. It was arranged in the last class..."

"Apaki, I want to play the previous piece."

Fugo interrupted.Apache was interrupted, but he wasn't angry.He just snorted, turned and sat back on the sofa.

"It's okay. But you'd better come up with something different, don't let me down."

Fugo closed his eyes.With a long sigh, he raised his bow...

The slow and painful Adagio sound, like a low chant echoing in the church, came gloomy.

This is Bruch's Hebrew Vespers.This piece of music is a fantasia composed by the composer by changing the ancient Hebrew hymn. The first two words of the prayer.

Jews pray every night.They piously praised the apocalyptic blessings that their ancestor Jacob received in his sleep at night, and deeply reflected on whether they were worthy of this great grace.Unlike other peoples who celebrate prosperity and joy, they spend the holiest days of the year: Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur in a mood of penitence.

The theme melody is repeated in the bass register, just as the complete prayer is repeated three times.God, I'm guilty, guilty, guilty... The weeping music is filled with indescribable sorrow, getting heavier and heavier...

Gradually, the mood shifted.The melody, which has always been solemn and slow, has faded away from the weak sadness and gradually became clearer.After deep introspection, a firm and passionate belief burst out in people's hearts.The long and euphemistic, peaceful piano sound is full of hope, and those remorse and hesitation are all dispelled by the brilliant divine light.

I'm sorry, Naranja... I...

Fugo was also like a pious believer, repeating his prayers in his heart.He played this pure and sacred theme softly, and the sunset and dusk appeared in front of his eyes.The bell rang, the evening prayer was over, and the whispers were blown away by the breeze and scattered in the air... The sinners were forgiven by God, and their hearts returned to peace.

In the quiet and noble atmosphere, the tune gradually disappeared like a prayer.Fuge put down the bow, his eyes were already blurred by tears.He wiped away his tears and looked at Apaji, who stood up at some point and turned his back to him.

After a long time, Apache turned around, looked at Fugo softly and compassionately, and patted his hands three times.Fugo read a deep touch in his eyes.

"...It seems that you have a new understanding. You played very well."

"Thank you... I originally wanted to apply to you to perform this song in the official concert a week later..." Fuge lowered his head, stroked the body of the piano, and said.

"Naranga doesn't want to come back, and he probably doesn't want to see me. But he will definitely go to the concert...he will definitely hear my music. However, if I play this piece in the Christian Church, I will definitely be bombarded." Let's go out..."

Suddenly, inspiration hit him.He looked up quickly, and Apache looked at him questioningly.

"Apaki, there is another piece of music!" Fugo frantically searched his memory, desperately trying to recall the cello elegy in his memory, the first cello sound he heard in his life... After he pondered for a while, He set up the bow and struck a three-note chord on the piano with strong strength, followed by a four-note chord.He tried his best to reproduce the first phrase from memory.

"I don't know what this piece is, but I...I want to play this piece."

He finally knew that it was Elgar's Cello Concerto in E minor.

II. Allegro conbrio

Naranja felt his chest was heavy and he couldn't breathe.He struggled to open his eyes, and met a pair of green cat eyes.He cried out in shock, rolled over and fell to the ground, knocking over two chairs.The little tabby cat that was entrenched on his chest, Lampdiser, quickly jumped away and hissed at him.Naranja sat on the ground, his back was sore, and his buttocks were still hurting.While rubbing his tailbone, he watched Lampdiser leaning against another tabby cat, Mengge Jerry, who was very similar to her.

He looked at the clock on the wall, it was just before six o'clock.He felt that he couldn't sleep anymore, so he stuck out his tongue, patted the ashes on his body, stood up, supported the chair, and separated the table that was put together for him to sleep on, and arranged it in the bar as he remembered last night just.

Naranja didn't want to go back to "Enthusiasm", so TheHitMan kindly took him in, but they didn't have any spare room or bed for him to sleep in.The building where they are stationed has a bar on the first floor and a living space on the upper floor. It is already fully occupied, and the sofa in the living room is full of cats, all of which are the cats raised by the drummer Holmaggio.Later in the day, Naranca finally learned the names of everyone in the jazz band, as well as the names of every cat—all from the musical Cats.

He thinks he likes the band.As Mista said, they are the best jazz band in Naples.But he likes them, not just for their music, but for themselves.They are all fun.Everyone has an appropriate nickname, which is the same as "enthusiasm"...but different from the sour rhetoric of "enthusiasm", the nicknames here are very interesting.They called the performance "the field" and the musical instrument "the axe".

Naranja recalled the situation of the last night.When it was time to introduce the members in turn, the trombonist Jiaqiu yelled, "Anyone who asks me to roll ice again, I will put him in the freezer to freeze to death!" Afterwards, everyone burst into laughter and took down the guitars hanging on the wall. While patting the piano body to beat the rhythm and snapping his fingers, he played and sang IceIceBaby. Jiaqiu's scolding sound seemed to be accompanied by a loud noise... He laughed, humming this rap song, and went upstairs with the quilt in his arms.

He met Prosciutto around the corner.

"Hey! Woke up so early?" Proxiet was holding a cigarette, but the cigarette was not lit, and his mouth was vague.

"I was woken up by male and female thieves. I can't fall asleep, so I want to return the quilt to you upstairs."

"Okay. Without this quilt, I was woken up twice by the cold last night."

Naranja looked at Proxiet in disbelief.Proxiet looked back at him with a serious face, and Nalanja couldn't help feeling guilty... and Proxiet suddenly burst out laughing.

"Liar! Are we that poor?"

Naranja rolled his eyes, passed Proxiet and walked upstairs to the living room in the living area.

Unlike the "passionate" home, at TheHitMan, furnishings are the bare necessities, with band posters on gray walls and a few guitars hanging as the only decorations.But the volume of books and records in the two houses is comparable. Like the one in the piano room on the second floor of my house, the living room here also has a towering bookshelf, which occupies an entire wall. The shelves are neatly stacked with books and record.The whole space is filled with a slightly decadent artistic atmosphere.

He folded the quilt and put it on the table.He came to the bookshelf and looked row by row, his eyes resting on the records.He had heard the performance of the jazz band last night, and the passionate and undercurrent competition gave him a great psychological impact.He was eager to hear more.

Naranja looked around, but there was no one there.It seems that the only person awake in the orchestra is Proxiet.So he turned and went downstairs.

He heard the sound of the piano.The sound of this piano is completely different from the classical piano he has heard so far.He crossed half of the stairs in three steps at a time, rushed to the first floor, and saw Proxieter sitting on the piano bench, his hands were light but heavy, and the piano sound was elegant and ruffled.

He's improvising!After listening for a while, Naranja quickly realized this.Prosciutto played an impromptu melody with both hands.He plays flexible short phrases, and the melody is repeated repeatedly, but each repetition is slightly different from the previous one-sometimes in rhythm, sometimes in ornament... His rhythmic combination is quick, clever and unexpected, and the use of echoes is full of innovation, but Swing is carried out from beginning to end-the soul of jazz.

Naranja couldn't help but move to the music and rhythm.He paused for a moment in the gap between syncopated accents, beat a beat, then kicked forward with one foot close to the ground, immediately retracted and stepped down on tiptoe, slid the sole of the foot backward, and repeated with another foot , repeat, repeat, the dance steps are coherent and smooth, just like...

"Hey? The little guy moonwalked well!"

Prosciutto tossed praises while adding a string of fancy portamentos to the phrase.Jazz musicians will add familiar melodies to their improvisations, and this melody will make the music more catchy.Prosciutto regularly plays the accented accompaniment with a distinct sound with his left hand and double notes with his right hand, and he adds Michael Jackson's Billie Jean to the tune.Naranja turned his body in a circle, took advantage of the weak friction of the wooden floor under his feet, and slid to the edge of the dance floor in one go, making a neat freeze-frame movement, as if taking off the hat from the top of his head.

"You are quite interesting!"

Prosciut laughed out loud, and after he repeated the phrase, he stopped playing.Naranja danced out of breath and leaned against the piano, laughing uncontrollably.

"You play so interestingly! I've never heard anyone play like that!"

"Huh. How many people have you ever heard play?"

"……Not much."

"Then I'm not happy at all." Although Proxiet said so, his face was always filled with a smile.Seeing this, Nalanga came uninvited and sat down on the piano bench.Proshut moved a little to the side, allowing Naranja enough space to play - he put his hands on the keys, and quickly fell down, recreating the BillieJean phrase that Proshut played just now.

"Can you teach me to improvise? Proxiet!" After the phrase ended, Nalanja turned to look at Proxiet.He had completely forgotten about the upstairs record and just wanted to learn this new and fascinating way to play.But he found that Proshut's gaze was fixed on his hands that had not yet let go from the keys.

"What are these bruises on your hands?" Proxiet asked, pointing to the scars on Nalanja's hands that Fugo had dug out.

Naranja subconsciously covered the back of his right hand with his left hand.

"...I got into a fight with my friend."

"What kind of friend would hit a musician's hand?"

Seeing Proxiet narrowed his eyes suspiciously, Naranja hurriedly waved his hands to show him that he was fine.

"I'm fine! Just a few flesh wounds. I... I beat him harder. He's a musician too, and I..."

Only then did Naranja realize what he had done.What Fuge said was certainly hateful, but after all, he didn't know what was going on... Instead, he punched and kicked him honestly.He didn't even remember where he hit Fuge, he only knew that with his own skills, Fuge would definitely not have a good time.Did he hurt his hand?If it hurts... Naranca scratched his nails nervously and bit his lip.

"...Is it a friend of the orchestra? That's why you don't want to go back?"

He heard Prosciutto ask.So he nodded.

After a while, Proshut spoke again.

"Are you a student of Bugarati?"

"Yes." Nalanja turned to look at Proxiet suspiciously, and saw that Proxiet's eyes were shining eagerly.

"Well...then I can teach you to improvise, no problem. Haha!" He raised his head and laughed twice, then suddenly became serious again.He got up and stood aside, gave the whole piano bench to Naranja, and asked Naranja what piece he was practicing recently, and if there was any favorite piece.

Naranja then played the Little Star Variations again.At the end of the song, Proxiet applauded, shook his head, and approached him with a smile.

"Not bad, but not enough." He gestured, and Naranja moved to the side of the piano stool, allowing Proxiet to sit down again, and began to tell Naranja about the jazz music he had never heard of. reason.

In jazz, change happens all the time.Every chord we play is accompanied by a set of scales, and when the harmony changes, the scale also changes accordingly.In other words, you use these scales to improvise and build melodies.To successfully improvise, you have to use your ears flexibly to hear the relationship between chords and use the corresponding scales to shuttle through them, so as to play a pleasant melody.

"Your ears are very good. You can figure out the melody I just heard after just one listen. But, you can try to add this change—" Proxiet said, stretching out his hand on the keys to conjure a set Rich and colorful melodious harmonies.

"Then, what you have to pay attention to is that if you are playing in a band, you should be like this—" Prosciut played again, and the harmony changed a little.

"...So?" Naranja frowned. "But this change, I think it's ugly."

Prosciutto blinked and smiled approvingly.

"That's right! Let me tell you, jazz harmony has a special situation in the piano part. We are an ensemble band, and everyone completes a piece together. Some complex chords require too many notes, and only the pianist We can’t always handle it, so we’ll omit these lineups and give the bass to the bass player…in our orchestra, that’s Risut on double bass.”

"The harmony just now, if there is Risut, there will be no problem. It will definitely not sound good to listen to alone. ——This is the mystery of the ensemble. We cooperate with each other and become complete together."

Naranja imagined the range of the double bass, and imitated in his mind how to blend the deep tone with Prosciut's playing just now.He gets it.

But he soon thought of other questions.

ensemble……

"I heard Giorno and Mista's ensemble last night. I've never heard them play like this." He asked slowly while recalling the surging and beautiful ensemble that was as sweet as chocolate melt last night.His face was slightly hot again.

"I think there's something else in their tunes...something I've heard in another player in our orchestra before, but I don't know what it is."

As long as it is the music that Naranja has heard, he will never forget it.In the church that day, with the piano accompaniment by Buccarati, Trish's beautiful flute sound like a pink rose reverberated in Naranga's mind again.

"Don't you know what that is?" Nalanja felt that Proxiet's tone was a bit strange.But he didn't care, he continued.

"I asked Bucciarati about it. Bucciarati made me sight-read De to Alice...then he played it again and it was beautiful and not at all like mine. But he still didn't follow I'll tell you why..."

Then he went to Fuge, hoping that Fugo could give him the answer.Naranja thought of Fugo's velvet-like mellow and meaningful piano sound that day, the golden rim that the afternoon sun drew for him...and the skillful, lively and unrestrained elf dance he played.You know who I think about when I play?It's you!Fogg tapped him with his bow and laughed at him as a goblin.Unconvinced, he called Fogg to play again, and he added messy piano accompaniment to the perfect cello.

It was the first time they played together, there was no structure, and they didn't even finish, and stopped halfway through.The way the two laughed out loud, seemed like a lifetime away.At that time, Nalanja laughed and burst into tears, Fuge's face was blurred by the water light in his vision, only the slightly curly blond hair was shining in the warm afternoon sun, shining brilliantly.

... Naranca felt uncomfortable again.He didn't know what was wrong with him, but when he thought of Fugo, he felt this way in his heart.He often loses his mind when doing homework.Recently, he came to his senses and found that the homework book was crookedly covered with strawberry graffiti... So he didn't let Fugo read the homework book.

"... Put it this way, do you understand? Music itself is a private language created by musicians with their own emotions. Once those indescribable and vague emotions are transformed into words or actions, their intensity and purity will be diluted. Through music Not to communicate. Musicians open their hearts, tune and play together under the pressure of time, so what they express is pure and spiritual—you have no chance to lie, and the true answer comes naturally."

"...?"

Naranja realized that Proxieter was trying to explain his doubts to him, but these obscure words became the white noise of Naranja's memory.The truth goes in the left ear and out the right ear, without hearing a single word.

"Hey, little guy!"

Proxiu frowned displeasedly, reached out and flicked Naranja's forehead.

"Speaking so much, do you not understand at all?"

Naranja covered his forehead and nodded embarrassedly.

"Then I have no choice but to point directly. The reason why the ensemble makes you feel beautiful..."

"—That's all because of love."

Hebrew Vespers

Montgomery and Lampteaser

Ice Ice Baby

Billie Jean

I really love Dupree, Brother Fu’s two Destiny songs (?) are the best versions played by her

Big Brother Plays Like Marcus Roberts