申请Harvard University哈佛大学Essay范文 "A special Performance"
I stood behind the curtains listenign to the applause to the previous act. I exhaled, realizing that this was a moment that fulflled my childhood wish. Tonight was special because instead of an alto aria or a jazz lick, I had prepared a song unique to my identity. I curled my fngers around the microphone and waited impatiently as the curtains opened.
My love for performance stemmed from my appreciation of music as a child. In the city in China where I spent the frst ten years of my life, I never found a choir to join and never laid eyes on a grand piano. nonetheless, I treasured my passion for song and sought ways to bring music into my life. I sang with our old record player when I was barely tall enough to reach it. On certain afternoons, my best friend and I would tape bed sheets to the ceiling as curtains and invite neighbors to come listen. There, we sang in duet, danced, and bowed while clasping each other's hands. Captured in our own musical sanctuary, we never noticed the hours that passed by.
Music evokes in me the emotions that words and pictures cannot. I also revel in the intellectual challenges that music offers. I fnd it thrilling to tackle diffcult, delicious repertoire, and I enjoy composing my own melodies. Through music, I can share and celebrate my past. When I was asked to share my cultural talents at my high school, I looked for a song that my mother sang when I was young, but I could not fnd the sheet music. A week before tonight, I sat down by the old piano in the practice room at school.www.liuxue.la With only the old tune ringing faintly in my mind, my hands soon took a life of their own and experimented with chords, arpeggios, and trills. I superimposed these on the original melody and composed variations. My voice, too, frolicked with the piano as I sang the tune repeatedly. I was lost in another musical paradise. I felt like a child again, tucked under the covers, listening to my mother's song as I drifted away to dreams.
Now, dressed in an old Chinese dress that my mother had worn in her youth, I stepped onto the empty stage illuminated by pale blue light. I held the microphone up to my lips and smiled before starting. Then, I brought to life the beautiful ballad that had brightened my childhood in China. My mind overfowed with warm memories of that faraway city as I lulled the audience with my melody. When I caught my mother's face in the audience, I knew she nestled in the same air of nostalgia.
