Words In The Hard-Personal Narrative

Then, it comes out of nowhere. The biggest climax, suddenly brought on like a wave crashing against a cliff’s edge. The oboe melody recurs again, this time less sorrowful than inviting. Come back, it sings. And the flute comes skipping over the sound, the sun rising from behind black clouds. But the melody it plays sounds out of place, lower than and not as bright as what it could be. My fingers twitch, following the flute countermelody as if I were up there playing with them—as I should be.

Our story begins with the beautiful musical sounds of the world driven from their instruments by the onset of a mechanical age no-one predicted, nor expected. An awful time when rough toned noise crept remorselessly through every doorway, every window, polluting every passageway and quiet place until silence abandoned the people to their plight and was gone.

The novel is able to share how music is of great importance and is able to affect people’s moods and thoughts.

(1) “While music is changed to language, with the attendant change in meaning and while the obsession is still with bringing light and thus reason, the narrator is opening up the meaning with reference to “we” and to the emotional conditions of suffering and delight.” 1

When W. A. Mozart was a young boy, he was toured around Europe’s courts as a prodigy by his father, Leopold Mozart. Although tumultuous and nerve-wracking for the young boy, his traveling did provide him with the different styles and sounds from

People with even the most minimal musical knowledge recognize the name Beethoven as an august and classical composer. Most are also aware that he became deaf later in life and was known to have a sporadic temper. Beyond these basic assumptions, this research looks to unearth not only the psychological aspects of Beethoven’s personal life, but also how those aspects and other major events in his life affect his composition.

Chanyeol watched in plain admiration as the next performer’s delicate thin fingers gracefully glided over the polished black and white keys of the piano. Something had felt different about him; at first he looked confident, arrogant, even, but as he walked toward the piano, Chanyeol could tell he was nervous, with his clenched fists and compressed lips- Chanyeol didn’t major in psychology for nothing. As the boy sat down, he took a quick glance at the audience, probably assessing the number of spectators. His first notes rang into the large concert hall. He couldn’t take his eyes off the boy, who couldn’t have been older than seventeen, but with his eyes closed playing with so much raw emotion; he could as well have been twenty-five. He was

The case studies presented in this novel cover tales of people who suffer or benefit from music in different ways. Some studies portray how certain people perceive music,

Music can be a powerful emotional tool. The sweet, sober sounds of Adele’s “Someone Like You” can bring chills or even tears to listeners. In the 18th century, the emotional allure of music was no different: The quiet, reverberating notes in Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 23 can still evoke loneliness and despair. There are few things more satisfying than yell-singing along to Nirvana when you’re angry, or skipping around the house to a Taylor Swift song after a particularly good day.

“Life is a series of beautifully composed vignettes, loosely tied together by a string of characters and time,” Mahod Seraji. A beautiful sound, one I never heard flooded the room. Her fingers danced over the keys in a swift, effortless motion, suddenly the music tempo changed from soft to loud in a lively beat. A feeling I can never forget and it was wonder. Music can lead you to imagine scenes in your mind, which only certain composers can evoke. I never listened to something so beautiful and I was in awe. I recall when I was five years old and I went to visit a family friend. When we arrived, her daughter, Shirley was playing the piano.Shirley taught me a song and instantly I was fascinated. I immediately expressed the desire to learn

In “Rebel Music”, Daniel Felsenfeld delves into the inspirations he has drawn from music in his childhood. He tells of the struggles he experienced and the lack of inspiration from mandatory piano lessons from Ms. Shimizu. Although he dazzled her every time, he never felt connected to the music. Felsenfeld reminisced, “I was experiencing a personal drought, an acrid lack of culture of all kinds, especially music” (Felsenfeld 624). After he heard Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony while with a friend, he had an epiphany. He felt that in this moment, he heard music for the first time. From then on, he became obsessed and revolved his entire life around it. He then went on to become a composer despite his

Here are my five words before reading chapter 7. I tried to think way back when my daughter was an infant and came up with the five words that she would say; however, not in the order that she learned the words I am sure.

My emotions and thoughts could fill my hands with such passion and viscosity when I played, but it was the fact that I did not appreciate such excessive amounts of classical music which distorted my sight on the path of reassurance. I began playing the piano once again, but I stayed away from any form of classical pieces. I attempted several Pop songs, such as Justin Bieber's “Baby” and Bruno Mars’s “Talking To The Moon”. As I read the music and sight read the notes onto the piano keys, I began to fathom something that unraveled right between my eyes. Unlike classical music, Pop or Blues did not require perfection; I could put my faults out in the open and not be concerned with skill, but instead being concerned with raw emotion and creativity. Improvisation and mash-ups became riveting to me, and I spent my free time engrossed in the boundless combinations between modern songs and the interminable melodies linked to the verses of the songs. I loved to show the experimental covers I casually compiled to the people who surrounded me. These modern songs fueled my determination to explore new ends. They kept my curiosity and ingenuity vigorous as I constantly searched for fresh songs to invent my own ambitious transcriptions that stayed true to the originals. I desired to please my friends with the piano. I desired to impress to my parents once again. I desired to connect the missing link between my brother and me. I desired to unveil

“If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it, that surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again, it had a dying fall: O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet

“I hope that Amadeus likes music.” These were some of the first words that my mother said after giving birth to me. The few months before I was born were some of the most troubling times for my family. My mother battled against a legion named “breast cancer” without chemotherapy while she was pregnant. Consequently, my parents called me “Amadeus” not for its musical ties with Mozart, but because it meant “Gift of God.” Nonetheless, my mother hoped that I would develop a love for music, but in the imminent future, that was anything but the case.