Index Finger, Believe in the Future!
This was a poem, a modern poem. It was a hazy poem written by the poet Index Finger in 1968.
For those who did not read poems, this poem might be very unfamiliar, and the person who wrote it had never heard of it before. However, except for those who had never attended any performance training classes, everyone present had heard of this famous poem.
This was because he was known as the ceiling poem in poetry recitals.
The ceiling referred to the difficulty of reciting.
Even if he was a professional actor, sometimes when he was performing poetry recitals, he did not dare to recite this "Believe in the Future"!
The reason was, of course, that it was too difficult.
It was a test of an actor's lines and vocal skills.
Performance and body shape were secondary.
"You are very brave!"
Zhang Huijun nodded at Zhuang Fan. These words were enough to explain everything.
If Zhuang Fan's performance had not been that amazing when he first introduced himself, then the examinees and examiners would not have had such a big reaction after he said " Believe in the Future ".
He thought that a newborn calf was not afraid of the tiger, or that a layman who did not know the threshold of poetry recitation had randomly chosen a poem and happened to choose this one.
But Zhuang Fan was obviously not.
He had the foundation of lines, and his voice was also very good. It was extremely magnetic and penetrating.
In the words of ordinary people, it was a pleasant voice.
In Zhang Huijun's opinion, even if Zhuang Fan tried to major in broadcasting, he would still be accepted.
Therefore, the fact that he chose this poem was enough to show that Zhuang Fan understood the difficulty of this poem.
But he still chose it!
If this wasn't courage, what was it?
"Let's begin!"
Zhang Huijun suddenly sat upright and crossed his arms in front of his chest, listening attentively.
He was obviously interested in Zhuang Fan.
Zhuang Fan, on the other hand, was already immersed in the emotions of the poem. His expression was slightly downcast.
This was the change in his facial micro-expression.
As a professional teacher, Zhang Huijun caught it very well, and the surprise on his face became more and more obvious.
This was the standard of acting that only a certain level of acting could achieve, but why did Zhuang Fan look like he was only 18 years old?
Microexpressions were a very difficult acting technique.
It was the same face, and there was no change in his facial features, but you could feel the transition from happiness to anger.
In " The Founding of a Nation," Zhang Guoli had such a performance. His facial features did not change for ten seconds, but the audience could feel the change from a smile to a gloomy expression.
This was micro-expression.
"Talent? Or…"
Zhang Huijun narrowed his eyes and kept thinking in his mind.
"Dang ~~ The spider web mercilessly seized my stove…"
Zhuang Fan's recitation of the poem had already spread out in all directions of the classroom with the microphone.
It was low, natural, and lifeless.
If a person were to close their eyes at this moment, they would be able to picture such a scene in their mind. Countless dense spider webs were binding the dusty furnace.
A dark gray hue assaulted his senses.
After hearing this, Zhang Huijun's hand was already on Zhuang Fan's resume, and he directly ticked a box.
This was the sign of passing the preliminary test.
After the preliminary test, the teacher in charge of statistics would bind these ticked resumes separately and announce the results.
Zhuang Fan passed with this sentence.
Zhuang Fan's next three sentences without any pause made the other examiners want to exclaim in admiration.
" When the ashes sigh the sorrow of poverty,
I still stubbornly pave the ashes of disappointment,
Write in beautiful snowflakes: Believe in the future!”
“……”
Rhythm, emotion, and a recital without any nasal interference undoubtedly brought out his lines to the fullest.
Even if some of the students present did not understand poetry recitation, they were completely attracted by Zhuang Fan's recitation.
There was only the sound of everyone's breathing and Zhuang Fan's poem echoing in the classroom.
One breath!
He said nearly 60 words in one breath, but he could not speed up at all. Moreover, he had to add his own rhythm, pronunciation, emotions, and so on to the poem at the same time.
Not many people in the broadcasting department could achieve such a level of difficulty, let alone ordinary people!
And this was why this poem was called the ceiling of poetry recitation.
Modern poetry, especially a long string of modern poems, was a test of lines and vocal music.
This was also the reason why the teacher did not recommend students to recite ancient poems or short poems during the art examination. This was because such poems could not show the true strength of the lines and voice!
The first round of poetry recitation was a test of a student's talent in lines and vocal music.
You definitely have to choose a poem that will let the examiner know your ability as much as possible.
"That's enough!"
Just as Zhuang Fan was about to continue reading, Zhang Huijun suddenly reached out and waved at him.
Sometimes, the first test only needed to listen to one part.
These short four sentences had already made all the examiners look at Zhuang Fan in a new light.
"Director Zhang, just let him finish reading!”
"I still want to hear it!"
A female examiner suddenly said to Zhang Hui Jun in dissatisfaction. Zhang Hui Jun immediately laughed,"Fine, fine, fine. It's my fault. Zhuang…Zhuang Fan, continue reading this poem!”
"Teacher Sun hasn't heard enough!"
“……”
Some of the examinees below the stage immediately laughed, but most of them had envious expressions.
This was strength.
If you were strong, the examiners would treat you differently. But if you were ordinary, you would just have to introduce yourself and recite a poem before getting off the stage.
It was like stagnant water without any ripples.
"Zhuang Fan, what Fan?”
Yang Mi was muttering softly. Zhuang Fan, who was interrupted, seemed unaffected and continued to recite.
"When my purple grapes turn into autumn dew,
When my flowers are nestled in other people's feelings,
I still stubbornly use the withered vines of frost,
Write on the bleak land: Believe in the future…"
He continued to recite 70 words in one breath.
“……”
Zhuang Fan's voice echoed in the classroom, deep but powerful.
The emotions in the recital were just right. It was not too exaggerated, nor was it too oppressive.
In fact, many people did not like poetry recitals.
Because many people thought that poetry was loud.
They used a strong and full tone and a large range of movements to perform hypocrisy that exceeded normal human emotions. This was disgusting to begin with.
There were very few good poetry recitals.
First of all, it had to have a good foundation and be sincere and full of emotions.
Secondly, the actor's emotions had to be grasped properly. It could not be insufficient or excessive.
The Zhuang Fan in front of him was undoubtedly doing much better than this.
Therefore, when he finished reading the poem, the audience immediately applauded.
Everyone looked at Zhuang Fan on the stage and bowed to the examiner. They watched as he left the stage with admiration and unwillingness in their hearts.
Why am I not such an outstanding person?
"Alright, all of you can leave!"
"The results of the preliminary test tonight will be posted on the bulletin board of Building D!”
The head examiner, Zhang Huijun, said to the examinees. Zhuang Fan, Yang Mi, and the others immediately walked out of the classroom.
"Good, really good!"
"These lines and voices don't sound broken or rushed at all!”
"The rhythm and tone are really comfortable!”
After Zhuang Fan left, the examiners started to talk.
"He's also handsome. He's quite sunny, and his body is straight. His physique and appearance are impeccable!”
"His performance is even better. Didn't you see his expression changing with the emotions of the poem?”
"I'm looking forward to Zhuang Fan's second interview!”
"Hahaha…"
“……”
As Zhuang Fan walked out of the examination hall, he did not hear the examiners 'generous praises for him. He was stopped by a slightly sweet voice.
"Hey, Zhuang Fan!"
Yang Mi stepped forward and grabbed Zhuang Fan's sleeve.
This book comes from：m.funovel.com。