Sometimes a photo can remind us of not only what happened at that certain moment, but also a series

Transcription

1 French Horn Memories Sometimes a photo can remind us of not only what happened at that certain moment, but also a series of experiences before that moment. Several days ago when I looked at that photo again on the commuting blue bus, at first I felt upset, but when I let my memory rewind a little more, I calmed down gradually because I found something happier and deserved to be relived. It was a noon of August 1 st, 2008 on the ground of a convention center called Grand Epoch City in China. To put it straight, it was just a tourist attraction built several decades ago according to ancient Beijing city. As you can see in the photograph, covered partly by the white marble balustrade of the arch Comment [1]: Hi Yunsheng, I've graded your grammar and mechanics revisions, and overall, you did a great job. Out of 16 total corrections, only one wasn't sufficient. The other 15 were either perfectly corrected or sufficiently corrected. So, your overall grade on the paper will increase from a B+ to an A-. I'll return the grammar and mechanics revisions to you in class on Thurs. I encourage you to meet with me to discuss them further if you like, especially the revisions that weren't "perfect." I noticed in particular that you often chose to remove whole phrases or sentences to "fix" the problems I identified. This is OK, in a way, but if you're unsure of how to correct the issues I noted, I'm more than happy to work with you on them. Comment [2]: This sentence is overly general. This is essentially what we're all assuming when we write this assignment, i.e., that the photo will generate many complex memories and emotions. bridge was the bus, which would take all of us the players of the marching band back to Beijing for performance. I was demanded by our middle school band to join 2008 International Olympic Youth Marching Band containing more than 600 players. News spread that even American and Australian marching band players were coming to join us! My mind flashes back to that noon. As soon as the morning rehearsal ended, I put my sweaty French horn down on the ground. With my last effort I took this photo and plunged into utter exhaustion. As I Comment [3]: the exclamation point in particular in this sentence make you sound excited and happy to be a part of this band. But then the next paragraph expresses something quite different. This conflict is somewhat confusing. stared into the deep green water of the wide moat, thirst gripped me. As I looked further at our bus, a thought occurred to me that rushing to that bus and then switching on the engine, I could say goodbye to this hellish place for good. As you can see, on the city gate there were three big red Chinese characters under which their English translation was hung. But at that time all I thought was why did they put some English words on a typical Chinese city gate? My answer was that because of the Olympic Games, the manager of this place was also required to do some Welcome-to-Beijing tasks. We know that English words do not belong to Chinese culture, but I found some of us wanted to show our culture too much that they even spoiled what they were trying to place before the foreigners eyes -- the culture itself, by adulterating, just in 1

2 order to make it more accessible to them. When you altered something too much, someday you would not recognize it. However, we did not spoil what we were giving the marching band performance. As you may have guessed, that time we played traditional Chinese music. Actually, to my eye the music composition was just two pieces of paper, but for those two pages, we really suffered for a whole month. What s worse, it was a task and was not voluntary. As I was admitted to our middle school as an arts student playing the French horn, I had to join its band and took the placement test. Unfortunately, I was not good and went to the second band whose main job was to undertake some temporary tasks like this one. Every Comment [4]: it's not totally clear to me what the relationship is between the idea of altering something about a culture to make it accessible to other cultures and how you performed traditional Chinese music. You seem to suggest here that you were NOT altering it. But if that is the case, then this sentence does not quite work as a transition to the ideas in this paragraph. Comment [5]: because you were practicing so much? because you were practicing to get it exactly right, or to make it accessible for non- Chinese listeners? one of us knew clearly that the players of the first band were going to Vienna to attend a renowned arts festival! That s so unfair. I thought secretly. When I said Vienna, you may think of the Golden Hall, the beautiful streets, the Western classical music, etc. Well, what can I say about our traditional Chinese music? If you sit down or lie down and listen to it, you may feel relaxed. But if you have to carry your heavy instrument and move around while playing the music, it will be totally different. Can you imagine that every night I had to take out my mp3, switched to my favorite Mozart Horn Concerto No.4 and listened, listened to dreaming? In my dream, the thirst that gripped me disappeared, the impulse to escape hastily disappeared, the weird city gate with English words disappeared, and the burning sense of injustice disappeared. While the gentle and wandering Comment [6]: a little awkward to refer to yourself as a speaker, since you're writing. Alternatives might be: "When you read "Vienna," you might have thought of...etc." or "Vienna might make you think of...etc." Comment [7]: I can imagine! Comment [8]: I'm a little confused about what you're trying to say here, exactly, especially with your rhetorical question. Why would it be hard for your reader to believe that listened to Mozart's Horn Concerto No. 4? And why did you HAVE to take out your mp3? melody of the French horn was rising and falling, caribou cavorted about on a plain covered with snow in the silver moonlight I love our culture, but I also love Western classical music. I want our city gate to remain in its original state and I hate to suffer for some music that I don't like. However, that s not the whole story. Did the French horn only give me pain and antipathy? In my fuzziest recollection of the past, I saw that usual afternoon when I was 8 once again. A bunch of old men went straight into our little dusky classroom. Comment [9]: good job summing up the key conflicts addressed in this essay. Comment [10]: what made the afternoon "usual"? 2

3 They stepped toward you, and one or two of them pinched your lips lightly and then went away. Several days later, I was informed that I was chosen by one of those old men the most amiable and rotund among them I thought back then. He was my first French horn teacher. From the second grade to the last year of my elementary school, he was always my dynamics of keeping playing this heavy instrument. Actually, each class he was AWOL for quite a long time and all of us could do whatever we wanted to do. We called that hilarious time. I remembered once we pulled down all Comment [11]: not clear exactly what you mean here. Did he ensure that you kept pursuing the French horn? Or do you mean that he taught you the basics? the blinds and told spooky stories in turn in total darkness. As our hilarious time was in full swing, the youngest of us who acted as the watcher rushed into our dark room and shouted out the expected bad news. Then footsteps approached, light streamed in, anxieties tinged with excitement grew, and melodies of different compositions quickly resumed, beginning to mingle to create some false impression -- but just some noise I thought. You can t imagine how fast my heart beat the instant before the door flew open. While still pretending to play my French horn hard, I could not help raising my head secretly. Standing there with one of his hands holding a bottle of hot tea and another rubbing his round belly, he said Keep playing the horn, you guys! But he always said that with a sly smile so the hilarious time went on until I went to the middle school. Although our teacher did not pay much attention to our training, I managed to enter a renowned middle school by playing the French horn. As I have said, I was admitted as an arts student. Because the distribution of education resources is very uneven in China, the government of Beijing came up with an idea, a policy that all the elementary school students could only attend middle schools in their own districts, with the exception of the arts students who enjoyed the opportunities of being permitted to attend better middle schools in other districts. Therefore, I got a chance before I said goodbye to my first French horn teacher. I think maybe his lack of attention stimulated me to practice by myself when I was given such a golden opportunity. I delved into Mozart Horn Concerto of No.1 and No.3 like a tramp gorging himself after long-lasting starvation, or more accurately, some high school students delving into Comment [12]: not clear to me what the relation is between saying goodbye to your old teacher and moving on to the new school. Is the chance you refer to the chance to go to middle school as an arts students? 3

4 SAT exercises, including myself, by the way. And after receiving the good news, I could not remember how many times my mom and I were admired by other parents as chatting with them about where their kids went to schools. My mom pretended to be humble and said, That s nothing. Your child is fine, too. Many Chinese tend to do like that. I think they get some sense of pride. Anyway, I was grateful for all about my French horn back then. Although I hated our marching band when I was in that renowned middle school, it was also the band of that school that gave me a chance to make friends with many wonderful classical music fans. Gao was one of them, who was also the trombone player of our middle school band. If I say I got to know Mozart by practicing Mozart s French horn concertos, then I have to say that I got to love more and more classical music by becoming Gao s friend. Actually, I collected (bought) all the musical scores of Beethoven s ten symphonies with Gao. Because we cherished them too much, we even brought them with us in one of our annual spring tour! On the returning bus, he and I picked up one of those ten orange booklets at random and began to enjoy it, at first humming and tapping our feet gently while at last singing with our arms slitting the air back and forth imaging ourselves as Karajan, Seiji Ozawa and Toscanini. Nearly all my classmates on the bus looked at me, the nerd of the class... I was shy but back then all I thought was the music, the Beethoven s beautiful symphonies. Those old stories from my home country make me realize that nothing should be complained. The only things that should be uncovered are the happiness strewn with but maybe sunk into oblivion among your recollections, though many of them seemingly unpleasant, like the weird city gate with Grand Epoch City. However, I believe that there is always something happier, something deserved to be relived even in the most unpleasant memory, and thus by picking it up you will not be weighed down and perhaps be able to find new aspects of life. Today in my cellphone you can easily find the demonstration video of TLC (required by the organic 4

5 chemistry course), but you can also easily find numerous classical music I bought in those past days, including my favorite Mozart Horn Concerto No.4. I still love listening to them while I am on the commuting blue buses. Sometimes my first French horn teacher s words and his sly smile floated in my mind; sometimes the familiar good feelings of practicing Concerto No.3 sweep over me; sometimes I cannot help imagining myself as Karajan by moving my fingers swiftly and gently, just like that time with Gao on the school bus. Just now, as I listened to that gentle and wandering melody while staring into the deep green water of the wide moat in the photograph once again, aside from the familiar but already vague sensation of dryness in my mouth, I found connection, a kind of harmony between these two totally different things. Comment [13]: Hi Yunsheng, Your essay argues that your photo of Beijing's city gate during the Olympics of 2008 shows the personal and cultural conflicts that touched your life through your study of the French horn. This was an unexpected and intriguing argument, and you pursue it clearly throughout the essay. Your use of the moat and the English words atop the city gate were especially effective in terms of supporting this argument. However, the connection between the positive memories you focus on in the latter half of the essay and the conflicts you outline in the first half was not as convincing or clear as it could be. At the end of the essay, you assert that "there's always something happier" to be re-lived in any particular collection of memories, but this seemed a little too "neat" of a conclusion. The essay did not fully analyze the relationship between the positive memories you have about playing the French horn and the unpleasant memory you open the essay with. I think that, perhaps, being more explicit about where you are now--how you are once again playing music, or listening to music, in a context of "foreign-ness," might have helped. You hint at this in the opening and final paragraphs, but this could have been emphasized more clearly. Content Grade: B+ (please see my comment below) 5