How to write a junior high school composition on the big stage of opera?

The art of opera - the glorious old days. The roads in Xianju Ancient Town are muddy and it is almost difficult to walk on rainy days; the roads in Xianju Ancient Town are narrow and it is almost difficult for cars to stop; the roads in Xianju Ancient Town are deserted. , it is almost difficult to meet people on the road. I was walking alone in the ancient town, and a tall and broad ancient garden attracted me. After crossing the half-knee-high threshold, a unique stage appeared in front of me. "Oh, it's a theater." The five-foot-high stage exuded a mysterious and primitive atmosphere. I couldn't help but look around, touching left and right. "Hey, what are you doing?!" I turned around suddenly and suddenly found that there was a sea of ??people under the stage. There were people drinking tea, eating melon seeds, chatting, playing the erhu... There were old people with gray hair, strong young people, rich people in noble clothes, poor people in ragged clothes... Above the stage, there were still clouds of people. Many people stretched their heads above, as if waiting for something. Children were playing and playing in the crowd, making it noisy; there was an old woman next door who was also looking out, chewing melon seeds and spitting them out. The people in the audience reluctantly watched the melon seed shells falling down in pieces, and suddenly turned their heads and became noisy. There was a commotion everywhere. "Choke, choke, choke—" The whole place suddenly became silent. I also hurriedly took a few steps back to find out what was going on. I saw a pretty girl with "red eyes" appearing with swaying steps. The attire is very simple, with only old and tattered costumes and a few touches of light makeup on the face, it creates a character. She first covered her face with her hands, and then started walking in circles, her white coat floating with her. A burst of thunderous applause sounded in my ears. Someone in the audience yelled: "Hello, Zhu Yingtai!" It turned out to be "Butterfly Lovers", and my eyes widened. Zhu Yingtai crossed the orchid and pointed to the left and right. Her expression was extremely exaggerated. The red foundation contrasted with the willow-like details. Her cherry-shaped mouth recited the lyrics of a song, and slowly sang, each word seemed to drag on for a few seconds. minute. The eyes that could never be caught were turning shyly. After a long time, "Blue Robe" Junsheng came out from the backstage in a grand manner and sang to Zhu Yingtai's tune, singing powerfully. Presumably this person is Liang Shanbo. If Zhu Yingtai is soft and beautiful, he is strong and strong, and the combination of the two is lingering. Dozens of people in the audience roared excitedly, and the applause seemed to never stop. "Hey, kid, what are you doing? Why are you in a daze?" I was in a trance and suddenly startled. The opera stopped and the applause stopped. Everyone on and off the stage seemed to have "turned into a butterfly" together with Liang Zhu, and even the melon seed shells that the resident aunt had vomited all over the floor were gone. The whole garden was still deserted and muddy. All that was left was the blank eyes of the unfamiliar centenarian in front of him. I asked what it was used for in the past, and he said that it was used for Shaoxing opera performances. I asked what it was used for now, and he said it was where they lived. It is said that apart from the centenarians, the people who stayed behind were children under the age of ten. All the men and women in their prime went to the new city. As time goes by, there are fewer and fewer people here. No one listened to the plays, and the stage became useless. But no matter how dilapidated, muddy or deserted it is... the bricks and tiles that have endured the vicissitudes of time bear witness to the old glory of the art of opera. There is only an old man who is more than seventy years old and a young me in the audience, listening to the faint singing... The opera art of my hometown - Yue Opera Friends, you must have appreciated the soft and sad melody of the famous violin play "Butterfly Lovers" How many Chinese and foreign Chinese have been intoxicated by it. Do you know where the inspiration for the song comes from? By the way, that is the Yue Opera "Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai". Listen, the melody of the song has shadows of Yue Opera. This is the art of my hometown - Yue Opera, a drama with traditional oriental cultural characteristics. Yue Opera is a mature type of opera. It has won the love of the masses with its realistic and delicate performances, euphemistic and melodious singing, beautiful lyrical style, fresh and bright tunes, but without losing the passion and high-pitched characteristics. Yue Opera originated in Shengzhou City, Zhejiang Province. The predecessor of Yue Opera was floor-standing singing. In 1906, the floor-standing singing troupe was put on the stage. It has gone through several stages, including the Xiaoge Troupe, the Shaoxing Literary Opera Men's Troupe, the Shaoxing Literary Opera Women's Troupe, and the Women's Yue Opera Troupe. From Shengzhou through Shaoxing, Ningbo, Hangzhou to Shanghai, it developed into a nationally influential troupe. Local opera.

I remember that when I was performing on stage, other actors were reluctant to play disgraceful roles, but my father was very happy. He believed that playing these roles was more educational. Some people said he was too stubborn, but he laughed and said, "Singers, why should we take it seriously?" His father also has a sense of responsibility. If an actor on the same stage gets stuck and forgets his lines during a performance, he will whisper to him in time. He said that he could not get away with it and let the audience laugh. Some of the audience did not understand, but there were also experts among them. There was an old woman in the village who was helpless and miserable all her life. She loved to listen to Qin opera on weekdays. After her father found out about this, he would sing to her whenever he had time. Whenever Qin Opera came out from the old grandma’s house, someone in the village would say, “Listen, I’m addicted to XX’s opera and have nowhere to sing.” But I knew that those sounds of Qin Opera expressed my father’s love for the old grandma. How could the villagers know his comfort and sympathy? As I approached my father and his Qin opera, I listened carefully and thought deeply.