The photographer who followed him was a half-acquaintance of Chen Minhao, the elderly photographer who leaked the news at the hot pot restaurant last time.
After Chen Minhao nodded and said hello, he started his own creation.
Song creation is a process of constant trial and error: after choosing the theme and direction of creation, you play and sing again and again, and revise again and again.
The process of song creation is like carving a stubborn stone into a lifelike stone sculpture.
The stone is selected in the mine, stripped, and the outline of the stone carving is processed. The overall shape and style are slowly begun to be carved. Finally, the shape and characteristics of the stone carving can be presented through manual polishing and careful carving.
Although Chen Minhao already had the music score and lyrics in mind, in order to reflect his creative process, he had to play randomly on the guitar, retaining only a little shadow of the song.
Seeing the astonished expression of the master photographer, Chen Minhao secretly smiled in his heart. I thought to myself that it was lucky that I was in a practice room. If I played like this in my own home, I would probably be sued by my neighbors for disturbing the residents.
Chen Minhao grabbed his hair in distress, scrawled something on the A4 white paper, and then made a new attempt.
After tossing and turning like this for several times, Chen Minhao's hair was turned into a chicken nest by himself.
Chen Minhao is still trying constantly, adding his own music scores to the random songs from time to time, and humming a few lines from time to time.
Just like adding alcohol to water, it still looks like a colorless liquid to outsiders, but in essence it is undergoing earth-shaking changes.
The music still sounds messy, but Chen Minhao knows that he is getting closer to the correct answer step by step.
The master photographer held the camera with great interest at first and pointed it at Chen Minhao to take pictures. After a while, he set up the camera on a tripod and sat in the corner by himself.
During the filming process, he was not allowed to play with mobile phones or smoke, so he watched Chen Minhao for a whole day: watching him holding the guitar and playing, watching him pulling his hair, watching him write and draw on paper, or watching him walking around on the ground.
Chen Minhao estimated in his mind that according to his current progress, he should be able to complete the "creation" by 10 o'clock tomorrow night.
He put the guitar into his guitar bag, organized the manuscripts, and put them away.
He picked up his guitar bag and said to the old photographer who was sitting on the ground and yawned several times: "Thank you for your hard work today."
Chen Minhao thought that there were only two people in the room and they hadn't spoken to each other all day. It would be too embarrassing if they didn't say a word when they finally left.
The master photographer was stunned for a moment and said: "Why is this hard work? It turns out that I am filming a variety show and I have to run around carrying a camera weighing about 20 kilograms every day. That is hard work."
Chen Minhao nodded, opened the door and planned to leave.
The master photographer closed the camera and asked hesitantly: "Is this how you create all those popular songs on TV and on the Internet?"
Chen Minhao turned his head, grinned, and said, "I don't know about others, but that's how I wrote it myself."
The master photographer hesitated for a moment and said, "Is your method of creation wrong? I heard that there is a big gap between your songs and those popular songs. How about you learn from the vocal teachers?"
Chen Minhao nodded and said, "Well, everyone's creative method is different. It's getting late today, so you should go back early."
After saying that, Chen Minhao left immediately. He felt that if the conversation continued, he would be bullying an honest person.
Chen Minhao returned to the dormitory. As soon as he put down his guitar, Lin Xiuzi stepped forward and whispered in Chen Minhao's ear but said excitedly: "Have you heard? Xiao Jing and Zeng Shiqing broke up this afternoon."
"What the hell do they do." Chen Minhao put down his guitar and went to the bathroom to wash his face.
"How is your creation going?" Chen Minhao wiped his face with a towel and heard Lin Xiuzi ask.
"It's pretty good. How about you? How's your song practice going?"
"There are only two of us in the dormitory now, why are you pretending to be here with me?" Lin Xiuzi rolled his eyes after saying this.
Chen Minhao showed a puzzled expression: "What are you talking about?"
"I have heard from other trainees that when they were bored in the afternoon, they stood at the door of your practice room for a while. They said that your songs were terrible, and they also said that they felt good after listening to Xiao Jing's songs. "
Chen Minhao looked at the mirror in the dormitory, smoothed his raised hair, and said, "They are so free, are you so free? Don't worry, I know about creation."
"If you really agree to your love, it's an old saying. The emperor is not in a hurry and the eunuch is in a hurry. Do whatever you like, right? I don't care about you."
"What's wrong, are you really angry? Why are you bringing out the Northeastern flavor? In your mind, am I the kind of retarded person who clings to his own face? Don't worry, I really know what I'm doing, and I'm performing If it’s smashed, won’t you be in the right position?”
"I'm sorry, I want to defeat you openly, okay?"
"Then you have to work hard. Paying attention to these gossips every day can't defeat me."
The next morning, when Chen Minhao arrived at the practice room at 8 o'clock, he found that the master photographer was already waiting inside.
Chen Minhao was even more irritable today than yesterday. From time to time, the finished manuscript was crumpled into a ball by Chen Minhao and thrown into the trash can.
By 6 p.m., Chen Minhao's hair style had been messed up by himself.
Chen Minhao kneaded all the manuscripts written in two days together into a big ball and threw it into the trash can.
He carried his guitar to the rooftop.
The master photographer picked up the camera and followed in a few quick steps.
The master photographer saw through the lens: the boy was handsome, with a well-proportioned and slender figure, and he was playing and singing again and again. The sun was setting in the distance, and the young man was bathed in the afterglow.
This picture was so beautiful that the old photographer remembered his dream of being a photographer when he was young. He only hated why he didn’t have a camera in his hands.
The young man played and sang again and again, from the sunset to the sunset, and then to the moon on the branches.
The boy's voice was hoarse when he sang, but the song seemed to have finally reached a level that satisfied the boy.
Chen Minhao put away his guitar and said to the cameraman: "Thank you for your hard work today. You stayed up there with me to feed the mosquitoes for so long."
The old cameraman's voice was choked with sobs as he said, "The most fearful person in this life is that he suddenly understands a song."
The atmosphere was so awkward that Chen Minhao didn't know how to speak.
He thought to himself that in his whole life, he was most afraid of an honest person suddenly becoming artistic.
Chen Minhao returned to the dormitory. He breathed a sigh of relief. After performing for almost two days, he was really tired.
Chen Minhao has the music score and lyrics in his heart, and the so-called creation is just his external performance.
Acting is all about story.
People often admire a person not because of his achievements or the heights he has reached. What makes people admire is often the story behind the person: starting from scratch, going through a lot of setbacks and eventually achieving greatness; being physically disabled and determined, but persevering and finally becoming a master in the industry; giving throughout his life without asking for anything in return, etc.
Since people like to read stories, let them see the difficult process of their creation and their struggles and attempts in the creative process.
The day of the makeup rehearsal soon came.
After Chen Minhao's rehearsal performance, he held his guitar and bowed deeply to the staff and trainees in the audience.
Music transcends age, gender, country and race.
A good enough song can grab the attention of all the audience the moment it opens its mouth, and can also stir up the audience's joy, anger, sorrow and joy with its melody in just three or four minutes.
The trainees and staff in the audience were silent, and no one spoke. Their eyes were either slightly squinted or the circles under their eyes were red, and they were brought into a sad mood by Chen Minhao's self-playing and singing.
Because rumors have been circulating among the trainees in the past few days: Chen Minhao's new song is very ugly, so many trainees came to Chen Minhao's rehearsal with a joke-like attitude. But I didn't expect that Chen Minhao's performance completely exceeded everyone's expectations, so no one spoke for a while.
After Chen Minhao stepped off the stage, the trainees who were waiting to go on stage looked at him without exception. Their feelings of envy, jealousy and hatred from the bottom of their hearts could not be concealed at all.
Vocal instructor Hou Fujin was stunned for a minute like a demon.
He said to Director Zhang of the program next to him: "I want to see the process of creating this song. The program team should have a video."
When Director Zhang saw the staff next to him nodding to him, he said to Hou Fujin: "Let's go to the editing room and watch it together. The original film cannot be brought out."
The two of them used fast forward and skip to watch Chen Minhao's creative video, but it was already one o'clock in the morning after watching it.
Director Zhang from the program team took a deep drag on his cigarette and asked, "Is this how you all create music?"
Hou Fujin glanced at the ashtray filled with cigarette butts by himself and Director Zhang, sighed and said: "Yes, but no. It is true that I keep trial and error like him in my own creation, but you know what? This little bastard tries When I make a mistake, I feel that the direction is very clear, and I feel that every attempt is closer to the final result."
Seeing Director Zhang's confused face, Hou Fujin thought that every other line was like a mountain, and continued to add: "It's like a stone carving. When this little brat was carving, it seemed that the stone carving was already inside the stone. What he did was to remove the stone carving from the Take it out of the stone. That’s the fucking gift of creation.”
"What a talent." Director Zhang said with a long sigh.
After he finished speaking, he touched his belly and asked, "Would you like to have some midnight snacks together?"
"Let's go. Let's have a few drinks together."
"By the way, what is the name of this song? Chen Minhao didn't say it in the video or during the rehearsal."
"This little brat really didn't seem to say anything. You're not the director of the show, so you don't even know?"
"Brother, you don't know if you're not a director. There are many things to do as a director. I can't cover everything. I'll ask the staff below me tomorrow."
"It's not easy."
"Forget it, don't talk about this, let's start drinking crayfish and beer."
(End of chapter)