第245期：通往快乐的钢琴键

想成为我们的主播，欢迎加微信 xdfbook 投稿。 一段美文，一首英文歌，或是一点生活感想，全由你做主。 《通往快乐的钢琴键》 The Key to Happiness Exams never made me break out in a nervous sweat with tears threatening to ruin my already-trembling façade )—but this one did. Even booking my piano exam reduced ) me to a blubbering ) mess of anxiety. I feel permanently scarred ) inside churches—no longer admiring their beauty because, over the years, I have received such terrible marks from examiners hiding behind the stained-glass ) partitions ). Despite being 15—too old, too cool to be frightened—I remember trembling inside the bathroom stalls ) before my tests. I wished I never had to play in front of others. But this time, after booking my Level 8 Royal Conservatory of Music piano exam, I went back to my normal routine. A little practice here, a little practice there. And then it happened. My trusty, 10-year-old electric piano gave out ). Middle C started to sound like an F-sharp and all other keys sounded like they were a fourth above their natural tone. Thankfully, my precious, boredom-saving buttons still worked. I could still change my piano’s settings from “piano” to “harpsichord ).” I admit, it was a lot of fun banging on my wacky ) keys. Each note boinged ) like the sound on children’s TV shows when a character repeatedly runs into a wall. Goofiness ) aside, I had to get my act together ). I hated practising but I really wanted a good mark. When I told my father what had happened to my piano, he only glared at me with disappointment, “When I was your age, I learned to be resourceful ).” Hmm. I had a broken piano, an exam coming up in a few months and a father who refused to buy me a new piano because he wanted to teach me a “life lesson”. I finally came upon a decision: I’d practise at school. Going to a private school had to have its benefits, so I looked for a place to play. The school had many pianos but only a few in tune. Within a few days of searching, my piano books, my artistic best friend and I headed off to ) a music room at every available opportunity. I loved finding new pianos in hidden corners of the school and I laughed at the dusty old historic pianos. They really had character. I spent hours in those music rooms while my friend honed ) her art skills in sketching and drawing. She suffered through my annoying, repetitive scales ) while I looked over my shoulder once in a while and admired ) her work. Not only did I become a better musician, but I also managed to gain a few subpar ) skills as an art critic. As my exam drew close, all the music teachers knew to look for me in the piano rooms during recess, after school and late on Fridays. In anticipation of my assessment, one of my music teachers let me perform for her as a mini practice exam. To my surprise, she was greatly impressed. Within a few months I went from not caring about my playing to feeling actually, maybe, kind of proud of my work. And over countless hours spent in my favourite, soundproof music room, I discovered that behind the piano, I could become anyone. Talking to other people never came easy to me, but I was able to express myself through music. I became overjoyed. It was like I had developed a sixth sense, one that only musicians could understand. When I played, my worries about what others thought of me and how I viewed myself merged to reveal who I really am. All my adolescent musings ) made me feel like I was in a cage, but music gave me the key. Sitting behind a piano and creating music combined the movement of my body and the inner workings of my heart. Music had never been the love of my life but that was changing. I loved the idea of being on a stage and creating something for others to enjoy and remember. Actually, it wasn’t a something, but rather a feeling that the audience would carry outside into a world where music wasn’t the only thing that people cared for. When the time came to play in front of an examiner, instead of fearing my judge, I feared nothing but being unable to represent all my hard work. All the anxiety I had about going up on stage dimmed, and when the lights went on, all I could think about was the marvellous journey I’d had to get here. Trilling ) the keys reminded me of when I’d spent nearly two hours alone in a music room, more content than I had been anywhere else. Playing the melody reminded me of the bittersweet music experiences of past years. Many days later, I received my mark. Not only did I earn a rarely mentioned “well done” and an 82 per cent, I had rewritten what music meant to me. Now whenever I get caught up in the daily struggle, I remember the hard work that it took to reach my goal. Whenever I feel discouraged, I never forget to look at the gleaming keys of my new upright piano. As my father always says, some lessons are just learned the hard way. 考试从未令我突然陷入如此紧张的境地：汗水和泪水齐流，试图摧毁我早已摇摇欲坠的虚假表象。但这个考试做到了。甚至连钢琴考试报名这件事都让我焦虑得想号啕大哭。 我在教堂里的经历给我留下了永久的精神创伤，我不再仰慕教堂的美丽，因为多年以来，我从躲在彩绘玻璃隔板后面的那些考官那里得来的分数实在太糟糕。尽管我现在已经15岁了，长大了也变酷了，不会被他们吓到了，可我却仍旧记得过去在考试前藏到卫生间隔间里瑟瑟发抖的情形。我希望自己永远不用被迫在别人面前弹琴。 但是这次，在报完皇家音乐学院钢琴8级考试以后，我又回归了正常练琴节奏。在这儿弹弹，在那儿练练。 然后出事了。 我那忠实可靠、已有十岁高龄的电子琴出问题了。中央C音开始听起来像升F调，其他琴键都听起来比原调高四度。谢天谢地，我那宝贵的、帮我赶走烦闷的按钮还能正常使用。我仍旧能把我的钢琴模式从“钢琴”调成“大键琴”。我承认，敲着我那些听起来滑稽可笑的琴键真是太有趣了。每个音符波嘤波嘤地想着，听起来都像少儿电视节目里的主人公不断撞墙的声音。 撇开这些蠢事，我还是得按部就班地练琴。我讨厌练习，但是我真的想得一个好分数。当我对爸爸提起钢琴的问题时，他只是失望地瞪着我：“我像你这么大时，就学着灵活地处理问题了。” 嗯，我有一架坏了的钢琴，一个几个月后即将到来的考试，还有一个因为想教会我某种“人生道理”而拒绝给我买新钢琴的老爹。最后我做出了一个决定：我要在学校练琴。 上一所私立学校必须得有其好处，所以我就去寻找练琴的地方。这所学校有很多钢琴，但是只有几架是音调准确的。在几天的寻找过程中，我带着钢琴书，和我最好的艺术伙伴一起抓住每个可行的机会前往每一个音乐教室。我喜欢在学校的隐蔽角落里发现新钢琴的那种感觉，我对着那些尘封的、陈旧的、充满历史感的钢琴开怀大笑。它们真的很有个性。 我在那些音乐教室里练上几个小时，而我的朋友则在一旁磨炼着她的素描和绘画技巧。她忍受着我扰人的、反复敲出的音阶，而我会偶尔扭过头去，欣赏她的作品。我不仅变成了更好的音乐家，而且还设法学到了那么点不太够格的艺术评论技巧。 随着我的考试日益临近，所有的音乐老师都知道在课间休息时、放学后或周五晚些时候能在琴房找到我。为了准备考试，我的一位音乐老师让我给她弹奏一曲，作为小型模考。令我惊讶的是，她对我的表现印象极好。 在几个月的时间里，我从对演奏漠不关心，变得或许真的有点儿因自己的演奏感到骄傲。 通过在我最喜欢的隔音音乐教室里度过的那些数不清的时间，我发现了坐在钢琴后面，我可以变成任何人。和别人聊天对我来说从来不是一件容易的事，但是我能够通过音乐表达自己。我变得喜出望外。这就好像我练出了第六感，一种只有音乐家才能懂的感觉。 当我演奏的时候，我那些对他人如何看我以及我如何看待自己的焦虑都会浮现，向我展露着真实的自己。我所有青春期的沉思让我感觉自己身困牢笼之中，但是音乐给了我打开那牢笼的钥匙。坐在一架钢琴后面创造音乐这件事将我身体的动作和内心的活动融合在了一起。 以前音乐从来不是我生命中的挚爱，但这正在转变。我喜欢这样的念头：可以在舞台上为别人创造出某种可以享受和铭记的东西。事实上，我创造出不是某种东西，而是一种感觉，听众们会将这种感觉带到外面的世界，在那里音乐并不是他们唯一关心的事。 当在考官面前弹奏的时刻终于到来时，我不再害怕评委，而是毫无畏惧地展示自己所有的努力。我以前有过的所有对上台演奏的焦虑都变得模糊暗淡了，当灯光亮起时，我满脑子所想的都是这一路走来的奇妙旅程。琴键触发的颤音让我想起我独自在一个音乐教室里度过了近两个小时，而我在那里却比待在其他任何地方都要心满意足。而弹奏旋律也让我想起过去几年中苦乐参半的音乐经历。 好几天以后，我收到了自己的成绩单。我不仅得到了一个少有的“精彩”，以及82分的成绩，还重写了音乐对我的意义。 现在，每当我陷入生活困扰，就会记起自己为达到那个目标所做过的努力。每当我感到灰心气馁，总会记得看看我崭新的立式钢琴那熠熠生辉的琴键。正如爸爸常说的，有些人生道理得来真的不易。 文章摘自：《新东方英语·中学生》杂志2017年8月号