Second Movement, Andante con moto.
Slowly but lively―!
The conductor’s fingertips created ripples on the calm lakeshore.
The viola and cello first accepted Kang Hyun’s conducting.
It was a soft and calm beginning, in stark contrast to the opening of the first movement, which seemed to knock on the door of fate. The flow, smoothly continued by the strings and woodwinds, was as warm as a child’s first steps.
Concertmaster Dmitri smiled faintly at the pleasant excitement. Wasn’t he the one facing the conductor from the front of the string section?
Kang Hyun’s image became clearer and more intense in his gaze. It was surprising enough that he had memorized everything for his first stage performance, and there wasn’t a trace of nervousness to be found. Moreover, didn’t he give a sharp look if any of the members were about to make a mistake?
A conductor’s capability varies depending on how many orchestras they have experienced. When first stepping onto the podium, one can feel as if they are standing in the middle of a battlefield, overwhelmed by the melody of various instruments. This is why most conductors say they do not want to remember their debut performance.
It is more accurate to say that they do not remember what they did and how they did it. However, Kang Hyun was different.
‘Cello―!’
Not only did he skillfully lead variations, but he also paid attention to even the smallest details.
It was as if he had been conducting for a long time at Dresden, the Berlin Philharmonic, or the Vienna Philharmonic. It was apt to say that his eyes and ears encompassed the entire orchestra.
Beethoven, Symphony No. 5.
It was a symphony of such high difficulty that it could be described as a grueling march. No wonder conductors both love and dread Beethoven’s works.
Kang Hyun’s fingertips absorbed Beethoven’s intense music with his whole body. The tip of his baton moved sharply, as if missing not a single neurotic and sensitive note.
Gulp.
Maestro Spencer watched with bated breath, his eyes wide open. He had long given up the thought of judging.
He was fully focused on how Kang Hyun, who stood on the podium, would lead Symphony No. 5. The same was true for the London Symphony.
Allegro.
From the conductor’s intense fingertips,
the musical theme began to escalate again.
Dudududung―!
At that moment, all the anticipation of the third movement swelled up and exploded like an active volcano. The London Symphony no longer saw Kang Hyun as a conductor who was holding the baton for the first time.
The tip of Kang Hyun’s baton intensely swept through the musical theme, and the fierce gaze adjusted the melody as if piercing through the essence. One could feel how excited all the members were together.
As the baton once again sliced through the musical theme intensely, the fierce beating of the timpani brought brightness to the darkness, and the finale of the strings reached the ceiling of the Barbican Hall.
Crunch―!
Yuri, the lion of the Berlin Philharmonic, fiercely rolled up a magazine. It was crumpled so badly that it could be used as kindling.
Through the crumpled magazine, the face of none other than London’s Spencer was visible.
“This old raccoon!”
“Maestro?”
“No, I just got a bit excited.”
Concertmaster Samuel looked puzzled at the maestro’s sudden outburst. Wasn’t he a person with very little emotional fluctuation, almost never showing changes in expression? Even if a member played a wrong note, he would give a sharp look but never raise his voice.
“London made the first move. Look at this article.”
“New breeze flows in the London Symphony? Maestro, what does this mean?”
“It means they also intend to teach Hyun conducting.”
“What?”
Samuel unknowingly raised his voice, not understanding the maestro’s words. Who is teaching whom conducting?
The London Symphony, like the Berlin Philharmonic, is also ranked among the world’s best. To conduct a world-class orchestra requires not only grueling effort but also extensive experience.
Moreover, it was unheard of for Maestro Spencer, the heart of the London Symphony, to teach someone. He, like Maestro Yuri, was an incredible perfectionist.
“Maestro, wasn’t Hyun supposed to visit London and Berlin as a violinist?”
“Samuel, that child’s talent is not limited to the violin.”
“What do you mean?”
Yuri had once taught Hyun conducting during his sabbatical. It wasn’t advanced techniques but basic conducting methods.
It takes a long time to conduct a 4/4 time signature properly, matching the harmony and rhythm without awkwardness.
But Hyun was different. He absorbed Yuri’s know-how at once, like a sponge soaking up water.
“Maestro, even if the principal conductor of the London Symphony teaches Hyun, the members will not accept it. You know this from our side. Opinions are divided even about recognizing him as a violinist, let alone a conductor. Dmitri, the concertmaster, will certainly not stand still. He is nicknamed the ‘cold-blooded’ for a reason.”
“No, London has already performed with Hyun. They may have accepted him much faster than we did. Just as Mozart was able to perform in front of the Queen of Schönbrunn at the age of six because those who valued his musical talent over his age supported him.”
Samuel could not continue speaking. Maestro Yuri’s expression was so serious.
If someone else had praised violinist Hyun this much, it would have been dismissed as nonsense.
After all, violinist Hyun was very young.
On the other hand, he was curious. What kind of person had so captivated the lion of the Berlin Philharmonic?
“That was incredible, Hyun―!”
Even though the conducting had ended, the trembling in his chest did not stop.
The members lightly tapped their music stands with their bows or stomped their feet in place of applause. There was no other time in his past or present life when he had been this nervous. Though it didn’t show on his face, his back was already drenched in sweat.
At that moment.
Clap―!
A single audience member stood up and gave a standing ovation. A peculiar smile spread across the maestro’s face.
In truth, despite starting confidently, how flustered had he been at times? The expression ‘battlefield’ was spot on. The melody appeared like bombs dropping here and there.
It was only after stepping down from the podium that he realized he had won the battle.
“Hyun, where did you learn to conduct?”
“Yes, we are very curious too. Emmanuel and I made a bet. I bet a beer tonight that Hyun learned conducting directly from a renowned Asian maestro in Korea.”
“Michael, I told you, Hyun didn’t learn from anyone. He taught himself.”
Emmanuel and Michael bickered, making a bet that wasn’t really a bet. Others were also very curious.
No wonder, since he had conducted so skillfully despite not holding a baton for a week. Even Dmitri was pricking up his ears.
“The first person who taught me conducting was Maestro Yuri.”
At that moment, it was as if the Barbican Hall was filled with silence.
It was a fact that would be known eventually. Maestro Spencer also probably already knew. It was indeed Yuri who first taught him the basics of conducting.
“Wait, are you talking about the lion of the Berlin Philharmonic?”
“Yes, Emmanuel.”
“Oh my. We were raising a tiger cub from Berlin―!”
Emmanuel had a surprised look as if he had encountered a plot twist as big as The Sixth Sense. Other members were also the same.
The first to move among them was none other than concertmaster Dmitri.
“Hyun, let’s first draft a contract.”
“A contract?”
“Berlin may have taught you the basics of conducting, but the place where you’ll sign the contract will be London first.”
Were they trying to recruit him as a guest violinist or a conductor? He couldn’t just sign a contract without knowing anything.
It seemed like a joke, but Dmitri’s cold eyes were as sharp as ever. Just then, a savior appeared in the Barbican Hall.
“Everyone, practice after having some snacks―!”
It was the queen of support, carrying food in both hands.
On a holiday, we drove past a meadow where sheep grazed and headed towards the outskirts of London. Of course, Krissy was in the driver’s seat.
I would’ve loved to drive along the open road myself, but who would let me? I have several years of accident-free driving experience.
“Oppa, I’m still really upset.”
Next to me was the ice queen, Son Yooha, clinging on tightly. She seemed to be pouting because I didn’t let her sit in the audience when I conducted Symphony No. 5. Knowing it was a test probably softened her sulky mood a bit.
“Yooha, are you coming to Berlin too?”
“Oppa, I’m busy too. I have to go back to America from London―!”
“Really?”
Honestly, I was a bit worried she might cling to me like a sticky gum all through the vacation. I appreciated her visits but they were also a burden.
“I’ll be so busy that I won’t be able to visit Korea often to see you.”
“Hmm?”
“So, if you look at other girls, you won’t get away with it.”
Why did I feel a chill down my spine?
Son Yooha would be taking lessons on corporate management and succession as a future heiress. After finishing university in America, she’d return to Korea and join Jeil Trading Company. It was the beginning of the legend of the ice queen.
“We’ve arrived.”
Krissy’s words made me look out the window to see a wide coastline. Unlike in Korea, there were no clam shops or parasols around.
The wide pebble beach was filled with nothing but leisure.
“Oppa, if you make a wish here and throw bread, a seagull will suddenly appear and take it.”
“A seagull?”
“Yes, if it takes it at once, your wish will definitely come true.”
No matter how hard I looked, there wasn’t a single feather of a seagull in sight. Despite it being August, London had spring weather, so it was hard to find anyone picnicking.
Then, Son Yooha took out two small pieces of bread from her bag.
“Here, Oppa.”
“Mine?”
“Yes, I’ll make a wish too. You go first.”
Is there a hierarchy, even in making wishes? Yooha looked at me with expectant eyes. But no matter how much she expected, there was no way an invisible seagull would appear out of thin air.
Thunk.
The bread piece fell onto the pebbles with a hollow sound. It was an awkward moment. But it wasn’t my fault. Who would’ve thought of waiting for a seagull at the first vacation spot in both my past and present life?
Then Yooha shouted at me.
“Oppa, you have to say your wish out loud before throwing it―!”
“Isn’t it okay to say it silently?”
“No, you have to say it out loud.”
Who said that?
Krissy, who had been following us from a distance, looked awkward and rubbed her nose.
It seemed like a legend told by the bodyguard claiming to be a London native. It was more absurd than throwing coins into the Trevi Fountain.
Krissy kept glancing around, muttering to herself, “There used to be a lot of seagulls here.”
Just as I was about to humor Yooha and head back.
“Oppa, I wish for all your desires to come true―!”
Huh?
Yooha threw the bread high into the sky.
Flap-flap―!
At that moment, a white seagull appeared out of nowhere and grabbed the bread.
Yooha jumped up and down in excitement and hugged me tightly. Krissy, too, seemed relieved and was offering a prayer.
I was just dumbfounded. It felt like a scene from a movie.
