Descriptive Writing Marche Slave
The noise from the chattering crowd receded as footsteps reverberated from where I walked. I nervously stood in the centre, breathless. The violin in my hand was drenched with sweat and my legs were shaking uncontrollably. My only resilience and my Beta-blocker were the fellow companions standing with me.
This was my first ever orchestra performance in a grand theater. I sat down facing the conductor with my legs still not under control. One signal from the conductor, I let my heart do all the work. The music that we were playing was Tchaikovsky’s Marche Slave. With my violin in hand, I became a soldier marching into war. My violin was my weapon. The music began as soft, quiet pluckings from the cellos and violas preparing for war. Within …show more content…
I could feel their vibration seeping into every inch of my bones. Then, my string brigade marched into battle with them, moving my bow up and down, the pressure on the strings creating a rough but energetic sound. I was totally lost within the music. The notes were swirling around the theater, playing hide- and - seek and enlivening everything. My muscles were quivering, trying to follow the rhythm, my heart was racing with the lively melody. I was a marching soldier. I was the one with every confidence, the one that knew who would be victorious. The music intensified even more with the ‘Chur! Churr!’ of percussions creating explosive tension. Our bows were moving at the speed of light playing the upbeat adding potency and bringing …show more content…
I could just see the outline of the seats where people had been sitting and cheering. Music, music, music. Where was it? I could feel the shadows creeping behind, the faint sound of wind-whistling coming from the abandoned seats. This place was where I became the part of the music, together with my companions as one. I stood in the center of the stage, the soloist who returned after the crowds had gone. My fingers moved to play ‘Sadness and Sorrow’, a sad melody where I moved my bow slowly and let the emotion of grief consume
This was my first ever orchestra performance in a grand theater. I sat down facing the conductor with my legs still not under control. One signal from the conductor, I let my heart do all the work. The music that we were playing was Tchaikovsky’s Marche Slave. With my violin in hand, I became a soldier marching into war. My violin was my weapon. The music began as soft, quiet pluckings from the cellos and violas preparing for war. Within …show more content…
I could feel their vibration seeping into every inch of my bones. Then, my string brigade marched into battle with them, moving my bow up and down, the pressure on the strings creating a rough but energetic sound. I was totally lost within the music. The notes were swirling around the theater, playing hide- and - seek and enlivening everything. My muscles were quivering, trying to follow the rhythm, my heart was racing with the lively melody. I was a marching soldier. I was the one with every confidence, the one that knew who would be victorious. The music intensified even more with the ‘Chur! Churr!’ of percussions creating explosive tension. Our bows were moving at the speed of light playing the upbeat adding potency and bringing …show more content…
I could just see the outline of the seats where people had been sitting and cheering. Music, music, music. Where was it? I could feel the shadows creeping behind, the faint sound of wind-whistling coming from the abandoned seats. This place was where I became the part of the music, together with my companions as one. I stood in the center of the stage, the soloist who returned after the crowds had gone. My fingers moved to play ‘Sadness and Sorrow’, a sad melody where I moved my bow slowly and let the emotion of grief consume