На уроке английского в 8-м классе задали написать воспоминание, связанное с музыкой. Никитин текст в авторской орфографии, но с оригинальными фотографиями того дня ровно три года назад.
I believe that music is timeless.
Vienna, where I was born and lived for eleven years before moving to China, is a city of music. It has the Vienna Staatsoper and a few other more miniature opera theaters as well. In Vienna, there are constant festivals, concerts, and shows. That’s why, whenever there is something to celebrate, my family or any other “Wiener” would go for a musical event. Sometimes, I feel that to us music means a lot more than a wonderful sound. This is because music always correlates with our feelings and associations. It is a sign of beauty and happiness for us, but it does not mean that we cannot be sad when listening to it. Because of that, the day my mother divorced my father, me, my mother, and my grandmother went to an evening concert.
It was a snowy night. The concert was performed by a local orchestra in an old gothic building somewhere in the center of Vienna. The building looked like a typical Vienna “Haus,” gray–yellow walls, old-style ornament, and windows with wooden frames. The house was surrounded by an alley of trees.
I was not traumatized by the divorce, but both my mom and I were sad, although differently. I was sad because the divorce meant that I would not see my father for a long time, and my mother was unhappy because it was in its own way challenging to leave a person that you have lived with for 20 years. As said before, music helps people to overcome whatever is happening to them. It can help both to celebrate a birthday or to mourn a person’s death.
We entered the building and were joined by a group of other people going to the concert, we began to search for the main hall. After some wandering around the building with a bit too many corridors, we finally found the room. Outside there were stands with drinks and cookies. We did not really pay great attention to them and walked into the hall. It was a pretty small room with very tall walls. It had low-key lighting, and most of the light was coming from a lamp standing somewhere behind the stage that was put up. My family and I and other people sat down on the chairs being said “neugierig.” Then, finally, the music began.
After the performers have introduced their symphonies and the concerts program in general, they have finally begun to play. And that was it; the moment has come. All of us were as if floating in the air, pulled up by the gentle waves of violins and contrabands. After some time listening to music or how we call it, “classical,” you don’t think of it anymore as just music played by some people; you think of it as a person who can have different faces. It can be that funny old man sitting with a mug of beer outside a tavern, or it might be an old lady gently walking on the street arguing with herself about the rise of milk prices. It is telling jokes, telling us stories, and sharing the tragic moment they went through. Music was talking with us; we were understanding its language. That’s why it is so vital for us because it is just part of our life, part of our family, a good old friend.
But as all things end, so did this concert, or as I would call it, an Odyssey. My family and I were waking up from this bittersweet dream and packing our things, saddened by the end of this joyful experience. We went outside and went home.
I believe that music always existed and always was with us, humans. Of course, it would always help or do worse in some situations, but it always was around, doesn’t matter what instrument or by whom it is played, it was always with us, and it always was beautiful. Music helps people to think or relax, live through a challenging moment in life and just be happy, so it is essential that no matter what, we don’t lose our dear friend.
(Note for Miss Morgan: if I have come over to word limit, please tell me about that, and I will edit the file.)
