by Yun Zeng
Recently, I have been reading books on economics because the year 2020 made me realize that economics has its unique merits. It also reminded me that becoming a "stock tycoon" was one of my many childhood dreams. When I was in around first or second grade, I was often asked by my parents and teachers," What do you want to become in the future?” (a question I would probably answer much more seriously if I were asked today). At that time I could easily say “astronaut”, “scientist” or “parking lot guard” (because usually they sit in a booth and I thought it would be fun to live in it). I felt that at that age, if I thought something was cool, then it could immediately become yet another one of my momentary dreams.
I was born into a musical family as my father and grandfather are both horn players. Therefore, I had naturally picked up the horn first before I could start working on becoming an astronaut. In a nutshell, I had a happy childhood playing music, mostly because my father and I practiced and played duets together as a special way of spending father-son time. Years later, he took me to play quartets with his students, and sometimes I played alongside him in the orchestra. Through the years of playing the horn, I had experienced a lot and made many friends. I gradually came to think that the horn was also cool and meaningful.
But for a very long time afterwards, I saw playing the horn as a great challenge. I have to say that playing the French horn is really difficult. Horn players may all agree that perhaps the only ease to it is that it can easily cause a disaster. The sympathy we have for each other in the circle of horn players can hardly transfer itself to the audience or other musicians, who judge purely based on the music presented rather than taking into account the technical barriers we face. To quote a comment I heard when I was in around 8th grade: “I was at a concert and listened to a violin sonata, a piano concerto and a horn player who kept ‘passing gas’ for 10 minuets” – even though I believe the three of them were at the same level for their respective instruments.
Accompanied by my horn, I have now traveled to many countries and made many musical memories. One of the most memorable experiences took place when I was in Russia.
In 2015, I was invited to perform in St. Petersburg. On the day of the first concert on the trip, nervousness totally occupied my mind. It was my first debut abroad and based on my former experience, in this city, a full-house concert was the only possibility that night. Two wonderful pieces I was going to play were En Forêt by Eugène Bozza and España by Vitaly Buyanovsky. As beautiful as the pieces were, I still felt as if the countless notes in both works resembled an endless minefield. Luckily, after the concert, my professor came to me in the backstage and told me I had done well. Then he pulled a piece of paper out of the program booklet and handed it to me while saying, “Here is a little drawing given to you by a little Russian girl, keep it as a memory.”
I could hardly contain my excitement. From her simple and childish drawings, I felt for the first time that my playing was meaningful to others without the filter of sympathy from other horn players or the fact of my young age. Perhaps, becoming a "horn player" could be among one of her answers when she is asked the question "What do you want to become in the future?”
Maybe horn players are innately shy about standing out, and those who love playing the horn could suffer from some unpleasant setbacks. But for those people who are enduring these hard times, I believe that there will be a heartwarming story waiting for you in the future as an uplifting reward for your tears and sweats. I hope that with the efforts of every hardworking player, more people will see the horn in a new light.
Music does not appear out of thin air, and any element of music is, without exception, noise until it is systematically embellished. Perhaps, a continuation of the comment I quoted might be: —But for horn players, if not firstly to “pass gas” musically, there shall be no further music at all.
