Sampling machinery： 取樣中、製造中

又來了。每次都是這樣。
榮格先生所謂的 "同時性" 永遠像幽魂一樣糾纏著我...

昨天 想到的問題 (攸關音樂文字生死存亡的那個大哉問)，
今天 逛電子報赫然發現，前天 的副刊就有人不但寫了答案，還比我寫的好上何止千萬倍...
該高興還是難過好呢？


趕快來看看吧。

中國時報 E4/人間副刊 2008/08/07
《三少四壯集》
那年雨滴落在馬約卡島 【楊照】 　　

一八三八年冬季，蕭邦和喬治桑及喬治桑的兩個小孩，一起到馬約卡島上度假。剛開始天氣宜人，生活愜意。然而從十二月六日開始，島上下起雨來。接著蕭邦病了，接著他們住的房子的屋主，以蕭邦的病會污染房子的理由，堅持他們必須離開，還要喬治桑支付房間消毒、粉刷牆壁及燒毀床單和床的費用。
　　蕭邦和喬治桑一家只好搬到附近的修道院。大雨繼續下，蕭邦的病絲毫沒有好轉的跡象。喬治桑穿男裝，公開抽菸的習慣，讓附近的村民更不敢靠近他們。然而，個性強悍的喬治桑就是固執一定要照原定計畫在馬約卡過冬。她常常帶兩個小孩出去探訪島上的歷史古蹟，留虛弱的蕭邦一個人在修道院裡寫似乎怎麼都寫不完的作品，一部早就該交給出版社的新鋼琴曲集。
　　有一回，喬治桑帶著兒子出門去採購，大雨將道路都淹漫了，他們花了許多時間躲雨、繞路，遲遲回不到修道院。整整跋涉了六個小時，才終於到了。
　　蕭邦臉色蒼白地坐在鋼琴前面，看見他們進來，突然大叫，驚慌失措地站起來，用詭異的聲調說：「我知道，我都知道了，你們死了！」
　　在等待喬治桑回來的漫長時間中，蕭邦彷彿看到喬治桑和兒子已經死了。那死亡的情景歷歷如實。害怕中，他只好去坐到鋼琴前，彈鋼琴讓自己鎮定下來。手指下彈出來的反覆琴音，給了他一點安慰，他想，他試圖說服自己，他自己其實也已經死了。然後，他就看到自己淹死在一大片像湖一般廣闊的水中，沉重、冰冷的水滴一直一直落在他的胸口。
　　看到喬治桑身影出現，那霎時間，蕭邦相信那是死後看見了喬治桑和兒子的鬼魂。
　　看見自己死亡時，蕭邦在鋼琴上彈出的，應該就是「降Ｄ大調前奏曲」。這首曲子被暱稱為「雨滴前奏曲」。
　　單純只聽這首「降Ｄ大調前奏曲」，會聽到不斷反覆的節奏，中間夾著幽微幽暗的旋律。知道了這首曲子有「雨滴」的稱號，我們進一步會聽到音樂與雨滴間的模擬、諧仿關係，進而聽出了音樂中的雨天聯想，陰鬱的天空，濕冷的空氣。
　　如果不只知道「雨滴」，還知道了那年冬天蕭邦在馬約卡島上看見了、感受到了自己死在湖上，還有他等待似乎再也不會回來的喬治桑的心情，那麼，這首前奏曲表達、傳遞的意味，就又大大不同了。
　　沒有故事和有故事的音樂，就算音樂本身沒有改變，故事都可以立即改變我們聽到的音樂。故事幫助我們在音樂中填進經驗、感覺，更重要的，故事找出一條讓我們更容易與音樂共處的途徑，我們在音樂中聽出故事，又藉由故事聽到音樂裡更多的細膩內容，進一步回頭想像、理解了故事中蕭邦的痛苦、沮喪、自欺與驚訝。故事與音樂，反覆辯證彼此加強，在我們心中不斷迴盪。



怎麼樣？ (哼哼哼)
寫的真是好吧？


(抱頭) 我還要再玩下去嗎我...



youtube 上找來的。
附上這一支youtube 的介紹中，喬治桑 (George Sand) 的原文。兩相對比，也很有意思。

There is one that came to him through an evening of dismal rain—it casts the soul into a terrible dejection. Maurice and I had left him in good health one morning to go shopping in Palma for things we needed at our "encampment." The rain came in overflowing torrents. We made three leagues in six hours, only to return in the middle of a flood. We got back in absolute dark, shoeless, having been abandoned by our driver to cross unheard of perils. We hurried, knowing how our sick one would worry. Indeed he had, but now was as though congealed in a kind of quiet desperation, and, weeping, he was playing his wonderful prelude.

Seeing us come in, he got up with a cry, then said with a bewildered air and a strange tone, "Ah, I was sure that you were dead." When he recovered his spirits and saw the state we were in, he was ill, picturing the dangers we had been through, but he confessed to me that while waiting for us he had seen it all in a dream, and no longer distinguishing the dream from reality, he became calm and drowsy.

While playing the piano, persuaded that he was dead himself, he saw himself drown in a lake. Heavy drops of icy water fell in a regular rhythm on his breast, and when I made him listen to the sound of the drops of water indeed falling in rhythm on the roof, he denied having heard it. He was even angry that I should interpret this in terms of imitative sounds. He protested with all his might—and he was right to—against the childishness of such aural imitations.

His genius was filled with the mysterious sounds of nature, but transformed into sublime equivalents in musical thought, and not through slavish imitation of the actual external sounds. His composition of that night was surely filled with raindrops, resounding clearly on the tiles of the Charterhouse, but it had been transformed in his imagination and in his song into tears falling upon his heart from the sky.

- George Sand