OBS Chapter 24, "Puppet Show," MIDI Arrangement
Chapter 24, "Puppet Show," MIDI Arrangement
As the year draws to a close, business at the store has slowed down a bit.
With the cold weather, fewer people are out for evening strolls, and the video arcade's occupancy rate has dropped by half. Casual tapes, however, are still selling well; with the Lunar New Year approaching, students have saved up some money and are buying a few tapes to listen to at home.
Li Si'an sat behind the counter, twirling a pen in her hand, while another matter was on her mind.
The graduation performance of the Affiliated High School of Beijing Dance Academy next year.
Every year at the end of April, the Affiliated High School of Beijing Dance Academy holds a graduation performance. Students from all grades can sign up; solo, group, and ensemble dances are all acceptable. After submitting their applications, the teachers will select the best performers.
This performance was quite a big deal in the industry—the TV station brought its equipment, recorded it, edited it, and broadcast it as a program, saving them the trouble of finding content themselves.
People from the song and dance troupe would also come to see if there were any promising talents. If they found someone they liked, they would bring them directly into the troupe after graduation.
Needless to say, the teachers at Beijing Dance Academy have their own talent pool. The affiliated high school is their training ground. They need to see in person who gets the guaranteed admission spots and who gets admitted with lower scores to feel at ease.
And then there are the reporters from the evening paper, who would come and keep an eye on things every now and then—the Affiliated High School of Beijing Dance Academy is no small name in the dance world, having produced quite a few famous dancers.
All the gods are watching. Whoever stands out will be remembered.
Li Si'an wrote "Puppet Show" with this in mind.
Helping Tang Yun was one aspect. Her academic performance was average; she would have a hard time getting into the Beijing Dance Academy through normal exams, but winning an award in a performance could lead to a lower admission score, and a first-prize win could even guarantee admission. But that wasn't the whole story.
The more important reason is that he himself wanted to gain exposure.
He wrote the song, he choreographed the dance; once the elements are established, the person himself is established as well.
The television cameras, the gaze of people in the industry, his name in the newspapers—these were his first stepping stones into the entertainment world. He couldn't spend his whole life stuck in that record store selling cassette tapes.
He had already finished writing the piece. The melody, the arrangement, and every vocal part were all clearly in his mind.
You can hear the tremolo on the pipa, the vibrato on the erhu, and the drumbeats by closing your eyes.
He'd already decided on the dance. He wanted Tang Yun and Zhang Ziyi to dance a duet, one as a puppeteer, the other as a puppeteer.
The puppets are expressed through mechanical dance—the stiffness, the pauses, the precise timing, the feeling of being led by strings—contrasting with the gentleness of folk dance. The two elements are intertwined, and the contrast creates impact.
In the dance world of the 1990s, no one had ever done this before.
You may not necessarily come in first place, but you'll definitely be memorable.
Tang Yun is easy to talk to; she'll listen to him. Zhang Ziyi, however, needs to be negotiated. That girl is ambitious and doesn't care about ordinary jobs, but she's loyal and devoted to her friends—if asked to help Tang Yun, she won't refuse.
But before that, he had to get the accompaniment right. Without music, everything else is pointless.
He thought about the recording process carefully. The school's recording studio would work, he could ask a teacher to help him make a simple demo, and he could also ask a teacher to help with the instrument playing.
The real problem lies in the electronic music part—the arrangement of "Puppet Show" includes a section that requires the timbre of an electronic synthesizer, a sound that traditional instruments cannot produce.
He doesn't know how to do this.
He does know someone who does.
Huang Guokai. Classmate, majoring in music. Three years have passed, and the two have barely exchanged a few words.
That kid was like a ghost in class, sitting in the last row and leaving as soon as get out of class was over, never interacting with anyone. But Li Si'an knew what he was tinkering with—electronic music, MIDI, and music production software.
Once, when I passed by his dormitory, I heard a noise coming from inside. It wasn't the sound of a normal musical instrument; it was a buzzing, electrically charged timbre.
Later, he made some inquiries. Huang Guokai's family was involved in music; his father was a folk music performer at the China National Opera and Dance Drama Theater, and he looked down on Huang's electronic music playing.
He didn't do well on the entrance exam for junior high school and couldn't get into the Central Conservatory of Music Affiliated Middle School, but his family used connections to get him into the Beijing Dance Academy Affiliated Middle School.
To put it bluntly, they had given up hope on him; they just wanted him to get a diploma. Since his family didn't support him, he tinkered with things on his own at school, learning all the skills himself.
Li Si'an felt that she could talk to him about this.
The next day at noon, the canteen was packed with people. Long queues formed at the food windows, and the air was filled with the aroma of stewed cabbage and tofu, and braised pork.
Li Si'an got her food, carried her bowl, and sat down in a spot against the wall. She glanced around but didn't see Huang Guokai.
He waited a while before he saw the boy come in through the door, head down, carrying his rice bowl to the corner.
Li Si'an carried the rice bowl over and sat down opposite him.
Huang Guokai looked up at him and paused, stunned. His chopsticks froze in mid-air, probably not expecting anyone to sit opposite him.
"Li Si'an?" He recognized him, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
"Um. I need your help."
Huang Guokai put down the rice bowl, looked at him, and didn't say anything.
Li Si'an took out a stack of neatly folded musical scores from his pocket and spread them out on the table. The scores were folded into four sections, with slightly curled edges. He pressed them down with his hand to flatten them.
"I wrote a song, and there's a part in the arrangement that requires a synthesizer, but I don't know how to use it. I heard you play with synthesizers?"
Huang Guokai glanced down at the sheet music. The first page was the main melody, the staff densely covered with notes, the time signatures and dynamic markings meticulously marked.
The second page is the arrangement framework, with the parts of the pipa, erhu, and percussion clearly marked, indicating which instrument is in which section and which is left blank, making it easy to understand at a glance.
His finger paused when he turned to the third page. That section was written by Li Si'an using an electronic synthesizer; the timbre markings, rhythmic patterns, and vocal part directions were all on it.
He tapped the score twice with his index finger, staring at the lines of notes, looking at them over and over again.
"Did you write this?"
"Um."
Huang Guokai didn't speak. He turned back to the first page of the score and looked at it again from the beginning. This time he read it even more slowly, carefully scanning each line, his mouth moving silently as if he were singing.
"This thing..." He pointed to the electronic music section on the sheet music, "What were you thinking with this timbre?"
"I want a sound that can't be produced by musical instruments. Something floating, with a slightly electric quality."
Huang Guokai stared at him for two seconds, then smiled. He flipped the sheet music back to the first page and looked at it again.
"Your thing is quite interesting."
He flipped back to the first page of the score and looked at it again. This time he read it faster, and he roughly had a grasp of it.
"Okay, I'll help you with that."
Do you have the equipment?
"I don't have it." Huang Guokai folded the sheet music and pushed it back. "But I know someone who has it. You'll have to get this made from him."
Li Si'an put the sheet music away, folded it neatly, and put it back in her pocket.
"Okay. When are we going?"
"I'll make an appointment for you." Huang Guokai picked up his rice bowl, took a mouthful of rice, then looked up at him. "By the way, what's the name of your song?"
"Puppet Show".
Huang Guokai nodded, his mouth full of food.
"A good name."
Li Si'an stood up and patted him on the shoulder.
"I'll treat you to dinner tonight."
Huang Guokai didn't stand on ceremony, grunted in response, and continued eating his rice.