书房 · The Salon · 当代华语原创 · Contemporary Chinese Songwriting
陈禾丰 · the bilingual signature
书房 · The Salon
一首《非空》,以中国风的笔触写成。 一首《落幕之宾》,从演员的角度落笔, 写给那些在掌声散去之后仍站在台上的人。
English annotation. Two Chinese-language songs sit in this room. The first, 《非空》, written in the zhongguofeng register. The second, 《落幕之宾》, written from the inside of a performer's life.
Music by Joanna Koh (隨安); music direction Wesley Tan (陳軍伍).
作曲:官驊(隨安) · 音乐总监:陳軍伍。
中国风 · 当代 · Zhongguofeng · contemporary
Not-emptiness · Fēi Kōng
《非空》 borrows the tone of classical Chinese imagery (stillness, ink, the moon on water) and sets it against a modern harmonic and production language. It is not a setting of a Song-dynasty lyric, and it is not an art-song exercise. It is a new song that remembers where it came from.
《非空》借古典意象的语气 — 静、墨、月照水 — 却以现代的和声与制作语言来承担。 它不是宋词的演唱,也不是艺术歌曲的再现; 它是一首新的歌,记得自己从何而来。
Listen · 聆听
普通话 · 当代 · Mandarin · contemporary
Guest of the falling curtain · Luò Mù Zhī Bīn
A song written from the inside of a performer's life. The stage lights have dimmed and the curtain has fallen, but the play is not finished. The artist is still there. The seat in the box is empty. The audience has left, or never came. And still the singer puts on the makeup before walking out for a humble role, because the ritual of performance matters even after the world has stopped watching.
The song carries the questions every working performer keeps quietly to themselves. Was I seen? Did any of it count? Was I ever more than a minor part? Why did the curtain fall before the story was finished? There is no anger in the song. It is something quieter than that: a long, patient collapse, and a kind of dignity in having shown up anyway.
这是一首从演员内心写出的歌。 舞台灯暗了,戏却没演完。 幕已落下,台上的人却还在; 包厢空着,没有嘉宾。 可妆还是要画的 — 哪怕角色卑微,也要走上去。 演出的仪式比观众的去留更重要。
Listen · 聆听