"...leaving behind an ordinary identity and other goods and circumstances that bolster such identities to achieve that status of anonymous simplicity and clear purpose." p57, Wanderlust.
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"...leaving behind an ordinary identity and other goods and circumstances that bolster such identities to achieve that status of anonymous simplicity and clear purpose." p57, Wanderlust.
和很多人一样,我从很多角度注视过纽约城。荷兰人登陆已像是古老的传说,不过几百年间,无数人从平静的河港或海岸远望过那些面无表情的楼宇,却很难注意到流光溢彩背后汹涌流逝的一切。重读盖茨比的故事,我几次想起Brideshead Revisited,尽管时间、背景全然不同,却都萦绕着无法名状、无可奈何的宿命感。那种旧日不再的孤寂真是刻进了骨头,老帝国与新大陆都无法抗拒这一曲挽歌。
Most of the big shore places were closed now and there were hardly any lights except the shadowy, moving glow of a ferryboat across the Sound. And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors’ eyes — a fresh, green breast of the new world. Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby’s house, had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder.
And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter — tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther.... And one fine morning ——
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
——From Chapter 9, by F. Scott Fitzgerald.
关于故乡北投,李宗盛这样写道: 这个发展迟缓的小镇像是一件长辈送给你的旧毛衣;明显的过时,却让人满心温暖。 若是遇到这样冬日的雨天,雾总是先蒙住大屯山的头,然后蹑手蹑脚地朝淡水河方向漫去。 我很喜欢空气中经常弥漫着无所不在的,淡淡的硫磺气味。置身在其中始终让我有婴儿的感觉。如同在母亲子宫中被羊水包裹一般地让我感到安心。
在给父母的信中提到下沙,这个他们早已熟悉的工作环境与新居,于我还只是全然无感的名字。不知到什么时候,下沙才会变成同北投一样叫人心安的归处。
该是哪一年 他说都已忘了 搔着头他笑了说
流逝我无知的岁月 时光的巨流河
河岸婉约的小白杨
解甲换蓑衣 一亩田地
笑容里有些乡愁的线条
异乡人的传奇中那有些是笑话呢
那有我熟悉的乡音
这两年也断断续续地听了不少升哥,但近来由于这首歌,这个彰化农民于我亲得就像,诶,就像儿时家楼下卖米豆腐的大叔——他可是某位小学生日日飞奔出校门的动力呐。其中“流逝我无知的岁月,时光的巨流河”这一句曲调极美,每次听都得酸上一酸,正如那米豆腐炸好后刷上的点睛之酱料。有句话很对,it is so beautiful that it hurts. 此前叫我这般念念不忘的还要数《牡丹亭外》那句“可我最爱是天然”。
记得在某处看到一篇评论,有人问道:“这是胡德夫吗?”——哈哈,尽在不言中。
我总怀疑,真正的乡愁并非思乡情切而归不得,反而是不知乡关何处、但又莫名依恋某处远方。每每念及此地,都仿佛赤脚行走在它的山河田野间,呼吸着它四时的气息变化。这便是东北辽河之于升哥,陕北丘陵之于我。原因很难说,也许是温润的美丽岛上没有干裂的黑土地,烟雨江南没有土窑;又或者只是一小段历史和一本书。无论怎样,升哥终究去到了他的东北,写出了满满一张碟的靠谱词曲;我也去到了陕北,只不过是怔怔地矗在山头,看炊烟袅袅,落日饮血。
想起很久以前(矫情地)写过,“乡情无依,那么走下去吧”。 但事实上,那个暴雨的午后,和喜欢的男生搭了部25路车回家,觉得窗外杭州的草木真是亲切到了极点。世界真大,有时候却又小得离奇。
总之在这个被死线缠绕的午后,我又恬不知耻地放空了。
在Yard蹲了太久,快要以为任何距离都大不过某条斜穿草坪的树下小路。周三晚钻出地铁站走向Kendall Theatre,一路惊呼街道和建筑尺度恍如国内城市——当然要是行人和车辆数目都三次方一下就更像了。那之后大银幕亮起,另一种来自手持摄影的真实上画。这部A Separation对我而言就是现代德黑兰日常图景的投射,除了结束时令人心惊的钢琴声外没有任何配乐,对话、人群与车辆的嘈杂构成了全部声效。 片头和片尾都是满分。故事紧凑一气呵成,但又有足够多的分神专用瞬间,留给德黑兰那些拥挤的街道和矮墙转角的光线,给女人们的头巾、公寓楼台阶、室内沙发和窗帘......相比那些表情、语言和视觉细节,对于一个不熟悉伊朗文化的观影者来说,剧情反倒是最易理解的部分。片中两个阶层各自面对的生活难题与相互间的意外纠葛,表面写实,但暗流实在太多:一切想要逃离或握紧的东西,内心不见硝烟的战争,以及看似轻描淡写其实浓密满布的宗教思想。
再看今晚Philip Glass在Piper的演奏,其著名的Metamorphosis选段让我差点睡着。那种纯粹的对构成的探究与实验,正如Mohsen后来在对谈中拼命想要联系音乐与建筑中某些基本概念一样,有些执意而无聊。但随后他介绍了已故诗人Allen Ginsburg所录制的"Wichita Vortex Sutra",并演奏了他们合作的钢琴配乐,我边听边扫维基才有了基本概念。日常语言、媒介信息、反战宣言拼贴而来的直白字句,伴随对美西景观的孤独想象,钢琴旋律与人声起伏交织,在曲终多时、全场早已进入异常安静的Q&A环节时,仍让我耳际轰鸣不断。
这样两部性质迥异的演出,一个直白一个纷繁,但都不约而同地根植于日常,在充满力量的构成与陈述下反而虚化了那些我们熟识的实体。
特别喜欢开场不久时Glass说的一句话:“我一直不清楚音乐究竟从哪里来。建筑师可以从空白(emptiness)开始工作,可我在写一首曲子之前,似乎已经有一些东西在那儿了。我的工作也许不是创造,而是发现。”
当然,他并非不感兴趣形而上的议题——“建筑关乎空间,音乐关乎时间,是否空间更为本质?”——但随后又扶扶眼镜,笑着讲起罗马某音乐厅里与舞台相隔一英里、小跑上台都需十分钟的不靠谱化妆间。
前两天走在Oxford路上,恍然感觉回到了高中时的状态:每天活动的路线、停留的地点大都相似,可心思总在满世界转悠,目光所及仿佛不再是真实存在的物理环境。有时傍晚走出GSD去对面燕京取书,之后总会穿一条近道回宿舍。那短短一路,抱着几本泛黄的中文书,踏着厚厚一层黄叶,常对着浓得化不开的暮色出神。只有遛狗的大叔迎面走来,才会把我从二马路、保俶路或是虚无之境中唤回来,回到具象而平常的这条剑桥小街。 读阿城的《威尼斯日记》,揣测他也有同样的感受。初到水城,他并不高谈异乡景致,而是说起闲时解闷用的《教坊记》,说它开篇即见古人闲笔,随性疏朗。然后淡淡地一转:威尼斯则是“赋”,“满满当当的一篇文章”。后面还讲到《扬州画舫录》,讲到老家四川的烹饪和江浙沿海的涂之于Lagoon,讲到庞贝和维琴察......这样天南海北着,不知不觉就到了最后一页。而这一页的描述极美,有灯,有猫,有教堂尖顶的余辉和鸽子滑过的“鸟迹斑斑”。好像阿城在临走时才终于来到了威尼斯,此地的一切才刚刚展开:“河巷里传来手风琴的长音,男人的歌声马上要开始了。”
想来奇妙,人作为个体尽管弱小无助,却又都有不被时空束缚而的思维。有时候感知到的存在反而比所见更为真实。他人的故事,自我的过往,远方的未知,如果能找到一种恰当的沟通途径和语言,都可以在头脑中取代此时此地的现实,构建一种alternative reality(该怎么用中文表达呢)。
书中间有一篇特别喜欢,和09年底去时的天气很像:
“十八日:下午开始刮风,圣马可广场那些接吻的人,风使他们像在诀别。游客在风里都显得很严肃。”
当然除了风,我的威尼斯还有下个不停的小雨。
With their signature restraint and introversion, films by Taiwanese director Ang Lee have always been one of my biggest cinematic indulgence. What Lee presented in this latest adaptation of Eileen Chang’s most controversial piece, Lust, Caution, is largely a faithful visualization of the original work. He employed his usual restrainted style when portraying the characters, yet managed to preserve Eileen’s cruel observation that one could not fight against human nature in love, desire and pain. Lee chose to depict in great detail the heroine’s emotional journey to the hopeless end. One notable addition in the course are the sexual scenes that explicitly explored the evolution of Chia-Chih’s romantic entanglement with Yee. In the original writing Chang only described their sexual encounters with one line: “every time she was with Yee she felt cleansed, as if by a scalding hot bath; for now everything she did was for the cause.” But in the film three lengthy, candid scenes were devoted as important stages building up their entangled relationship. The first time was a rough and violent one where it seemed that Mr. Yee was the dominant power in their encounter; yet when Chia-Chih was left alone in bed, a transient smile on her face implied her initial success in obtaining Yee’s affection, and an emotional detachment that was bound to vanish soon. The second scene featured various twisted love-making positions that amplified their extreme delight and pain, especially through Yee’s pressing against Chia-Chih’s head. She began to surrender to this physical union. In the third scene when Chia-Chih and Yee turned at the same time to a hanging gun at bedside, she covered Yee’s eyes with a pillow. A faint glittering in her eye seemed to be the only physical outburst of her overwhelming emotional struggle in a forbidden and pointless attachment.
These exploration leads to the peak of their relationship: meeting at the geisha club. She performed Wandering Songstress with such tenderness, and he held her hands upon wiping away a teardrop. Two insecure, lonely souls met in a moment of companionship. “My darling, we are of one heart (郎呀,我们俩是一条心)” was a heart-broken line that brought me to tears. She certainly was caught by unprecedented softness in her life. Mr. Yee’s mind was harder to read at the moment, but Lee also rewrote the final scene for him to sit down in the dark room, swallowed by solitude, implicating a significant sense of loss. Lee skillfully diverged from Chang in his attempt to offer a slightly more comforting interpretation of Chia-Chih’s pathetic pursuit, as opposed to Chang’s absolute pessimism.
Details are also to be appreciated in this stylish reproduction of 1940’s Shanghai, in which every featured shot was used by Lee to unveil a certain level of tension. There were added-in depictions such as the heroine’s red lip-stain on her coffee cup, but also loyal recapitulation of Chang’s writing, as seen in the final scene of Chia-Chih: the delicate mannequins on display, the exuberant pedicab driver, the three colored pinwheels, the bustling crowds...in these last few minutes she spent on the street, the vibrancy of daily life shined before death fell.
As a whole, the film successfully recreated Chang’s story with masterful control in emotional development as well as detailing. Compared to Chang’s cold, detached fictional narration, I think Lee added subtle layers of empathy for the struggling characters and forever chained humanity.
《第一次进录音室》 于2004.12
今天读郑渊洁随笔,看着他那些鲜活有趣的“第一次”许多都让我捧腹不已。开心之余,更觉得自己也应该做个有心人,对生活里遇到的事儿都好好体会体会。正巧看见《第一次进广播电台播音室》的标题,我便也想起了几个月前第一次进录音室的情形。
2004年暑假,音乐老师鲁晓虹通知我到音乐教室开会。我不太情愿地冒着酷暑赶到了学校。在那里我还遇到了另外十一个同学,并从她们口中得知我们要去给学校百年校庆的歌曲录音。当时听到这个消息,我的第一反应是太棒了,因为我活了16年还从来没有进过录音室参加任何录制工作。随后我还感到了些许志得意满,因为我发现和我同年级的只有三个人,这说明我属于合唱团一百多号人里比较受老师器重的。正在洋洋得意地胡思乱想之际,鲁老师走了进来,发给每人三页的谱子,还宣布需要两个下午的排练时间。我想,值。今后应该没什么机会再去录音室了,而我日后从事媒体艺术方面工作的可能性也颇为渺小,那么这次机会就该好好把握。我于是罕见地没有任何恶心感地学会了那首歌,并且还破天荒地在家里练习了好几遍,以至于我妈说她到那天才真正听我唱了一首完完整整的非国歌的歌曲。
正式录音真的这天终于到了。下午,我和其它同学及老师一起乘校车来到了莫干山路上的浙江电视台所在地。我们随后进入了演播大楼,经过若干错综复杂的走道后进入了一间四周都是隔音墙的屋子。不知出于什么原因,在外面还唧唧喳喳废话连篇的我们进去以后都自觉地一言不发,有可能是极端安静带来的震慑作用。我于是认为学校也应采用这种隔音墙壁,但随后又意识到千方百计想让吵闹的学生安静下来且诡计多端的学校不可能没有注意到这一有效途径,那只能是因为某些特殊原因而未能将教室墙壁改装成这种带孔白墙了。一向不喜欢深究黑暗内幕的我此时当然没有多想,立即四处观察起来。这间屋子不大,中间有两个竖直摆放的话筒,旁边还准备了几级台阶。左边有一堵玻璃墙,里面有各种录音设备,就和我在电视里看到的一样。三个工作人员模样的人正在对着电脑操作着什么。鲁老师就带着我们站上台阶,一边一个声部,我属于低声部,正好站在左边话筒前。这时候走来一个艺术家形象的中年男性,让我们先熟悉了一下伴奏,然后示范了一下应该在哪一拍开始。我们都表示明白。于是第一次试录开始。我戴上耳机,前奏开始。我深吸一口气,唱了起来。我发现我听不见自己的声音,我认定这是因为我的声音不够响。我于是加大音量,但仍然一句也没有听见。我十分纳闷地唱完整首歌,刚拿下耳机准备问其他人有没有这种感觉,没想到众人都以哭笑不得的表情看着我,好几个人都表示:“你刚才声音怎么那么大?就听你一个人在唱,简直像扯着嗓子,还有好几个音都不准了!”我迷惘地看着她们,随即感到无比窘迫;我在录音室的第一次演唱宣告失败。
鲁老师倒是没说什么,只是让大家注意了几个细节,然后就又试录了一次。这一次我诚惶诚恐地控制了自己的声音,顺利地通过了演唱。接下来就是正式录制了。波澜不惊。我们又听了一遍,感觉不错,就完成了。临走的时候我看了看玻璃房里的人,他们还在对着电脑讨论着什么。我想起了以前看到的新闻,说很多歌手的声音都是录好后经电脑修改过的。我希望那几位老兄没有给我们的声音添砖加瓦。
回想第一次进录音室的经历,我依然觉得十分有趣,毕竟我们的声音是被永久记录下来了。此后N次听到我们的录音,我都愉快地想到那里面也有我的声音,并因此觉得生活果然不可预料。我从小学琴,却从没能到录音室中献奏一曲;我从未学过唱歌,却歪打正着唱进了录音室。如果再早一年告诉我这样的怪事,我肯定不相信。可这样难以置信的事儿不也发生了吗?可见没什么是绝对不可能的。我需要做的就是抓住每一个机会。没准那天我能烧钱自己整一个录音室玩玩,我届时一定要回放这首校庆之歌,再抱住话筒陶醉在自己的鬼哭狼嚎中。最好还有合唱队,那才叫真的鬼哭狼嚎。你别说,我还真喜欢上那声音了。特美,真的。
You make me rethink about my outlook on choices, love, and everything. I thank you and love you no matter what.
3 idiots里,核心人物Rancho一出场,他那对喧宾夺主的招风耳就看着分外眼熟,后来看到演员名字,更觉亲上加亲。鉴于我人生中一共只看过两部印度 电影(算上这部),我只能确信这位男猪脚正是高中时看的印度往事里那个包头巾穿马褂还叫一洋一土两个姑娘都爱得死去活来的农民甲。啊……这位叔叔该有四十 了吧? 说起印度往事,其音乐值得一书。里面有首渲染三角关系的歌舞,漫漫黄沙里,两个姑娘一个古典唱腔一个花鼓铃铛,提琴飞音和肚皮舞音乐居然水乳交融一 气呵成,目瞪口呆的我显然只有坐待秒杀。第二天考试,乖乖,那首歌以极高的主观能动性在我脑子里自动循环到交卷还依依不舍还余音绕梁。今日再听这首O Ray Chhori,哈哈,真想跳上一段。那永远也学不会的“挺胸-收胸-翻手腕-挺跨-收跨”啊,我为什么就只知道挺肚子呢?
土人我觊觎布拉格文艺资源已久, 然而国家歌剧院如此密集的两周普契尼+威尔第还是让我好好意外了把. 不为Tosca和Butterfly所动, 坚定地(自认为应景地)买了La Boheme的票. Anna/Rolando的录音版本还算熟悉, 但人生头一次歌剧现场却仍然是真正的意外惊喜: 听到身上过电数轮, 看到鳄鱼眼泪挤出数滴. 四幕下来, 完全让CD/YOUTUBE沦为玩笑. 所以嘛, 今晚是到布拉格一周多以来, 最强烈的一次感觉到: 人在欧洲.