Meiya is simply vulgarity dressed up in fine attire

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I read an article in the newspaper that discussed the issues of \"kitsch\" and \"elegance\". The author believes that Milan Kundera came up with a term, \"kitsch,\" to describe the situation in which artists give up artistic integrity in order to please the general public. He also said that some trivial activities in our country have given rise to a new term, “Meiya”, whose meaning is completely unclear. I do know what this word means; it refers to the general public being deceived or misled by certain people into pursuing an artistic style without asking themselves whether they are really capable of appreciating it. I have some experience in this area, all related to appreciating music. There is little doubt that classical music has a very high standard. I have a very low taste when it comes to music; I can tolerate country music, but anything more sophisticated than that is too much for me. When I was in the United States, I once went to Boshan. I arrived as dusk fell and found my friend, who was about to go out at that time. He said there was a church not far from his home, where free, elegant concerts were held every night, and he asked me to go with him to listen to them. To be honest, I didn’t want to go, so I made an excuse: listening to elegant music requires wearing a suit and sitting properly. I drove all day and I’m completely exhausted; forget it. But he said that this concert was rather casual, serving as a rehearsal for the teachers and students in the university’s music department. As long as you don’t doze off or leave halfway once you go in, that’s fine. I went there. It was only when I reached the door that I learned it was a performance of two symphonies by Bruckner. My friend also pulled me to sit in the middle of the first row to listen to these two pieces of music — sitting here, I didn’t even have a chance to yawn. I think these two pieces are bland and uninspired; the musicians are playing carelessly, and the conductor is waving his arms around aimlessly. The whole experience is similar to feeling seasick – it’s miserable. I drove for over ten hours and sat in a hot and stuffy church; as long as my head touched something, I would fall asleep immediately ； But she kept holding on, keeping her eyes wide open, and endured from seven o’clock until 9:30! There’s a section in the middle where I really wish I could just kill myself… Those two stupid pieces by Bruckner are utterly boring! As mentioned earlier, I have no expertise in classical music, so I don’t have any say in this matter. Perhaps the charm of Bruckner’s music is such that it doesn’t reach my humble ears. But I always feel that even in the realm of refined art, there are differences in skill and level, and it cannot be generalized. It can’t be that those who enter the realm of elegance are automatically good without any conditions – to argue in such a way is to flatter elegance. One can adopt an attitude of indulgence, but one’s senses immediately disagree, causing some discomfort… For the next example, I’m more confident about it—it’s not that I’m vulgar; it’s due to the low level of skill of those who perform classical music. This time it’s Bach’s choral works. I have no issues with these pieces; it’s not because of Bach’s famous reputation that I like them – it’s something I’ve come to appreciate on my own. This time I have some complaints about the choir. It started because my wife ran a Chinese language class, and one of the students in that class was a horn player in a casual orchestra in Pittsburgh; he invited us to attend a rehearsal, so we went. Although it’s not a formal performance, as an audience member one can’t be careless, as there are very few spectators anyway. So I got dressed up properly—putting on a three-piece suit. The vest of that outfit is a bit tight, but my wife says that tight clothes make one look more energetic ； So I forced my bloated belly from eating beef down, which caused my diaphragm to rise by an inch, making it a bit hard to breathe. And so I went to the small auditorium of the music college and sat in the middle of the front row. When the curtain rose and I saw the choir, I realized there was a misunderstanding: right in the middle of the choir stood a very familiar old lady. In several classes I was with her classmates – some were not eighty, but seventy-five as well. I remember that she received funding from an American program aimed at helping older people return to school; her grades weren’t great, but the professor always allowed her to pass, and I didn’t really have any problems with that. It seems she took another course in the music department and sang together with her classmates. Unfortunately, as people age, the organs needed for reading deteriorate, and those used for singing deteriorate even more, so it’s likely that one won’t be able to sing well. But since we’re here, just for this familiar old man’s sake, we must also enjoy this concert thoroughly—we have the determination to be refined in such matters. To be honest, the amateur orchestra performs quite well; at least they don’t go off key ； The lead singer in the choir is also highly skilled. It was the turn of the female choir to sing. The familiar old lady opened her mouth wide as required by Western singing techniques and sang loudly, “Hallelujah.” After just half a note, her dentures flew out of her mouth; they flapped in the air as if trying to bite something, flying over the orchestra pit, above our heads, and landing in the third row behind us ； To their ears, “Hallelujah” turned into a “pfft”! On this solemn occasion, with hymns being sung, although it wasn’t appropriate to leave without dentures in place, the old lady couldn’t simply walk away right away; she pursed her lips and pretended to sing, looking quite strange… Believe me, I sat there and listened to this scene seriously before smiling and clapping. I swallowed all those wild and vulgar laughs, which shattered my insides into pieces. In the following three months, pieces of lung or liver were often coughed up. But because I was young and in good health at the time, I managed to survive. The author intends to conclude here. My conclusion is: the matter of Meiya does exist, and for ordinary people, it causes even greater harm