“Show me the Sauvignon Blanc, please.”
The acidity of the white wine and the fresh fruit aroma lingered in my mouth.
“Maestro, may I ask you one thing?”
The lion of the Berlin Philharmonic, Yuri, hadn’t touched the wine due to jet lag. But now, wine seemed like the only way to ease his troubled mind.
“Ask me anything, Yuri.”
“No matter how much I think about it, I don’t understand why Eden Simeon chose you, Maestro.”
“Is that what you’re so curious about?”
Coincidentally, the two of them were the only ones in first class.
“Yuri, how many of my riddles did you solve when we were at the chapel?” He was referring to the riddles at the Beaux-Arts Hall, where you had to identify the mistakes in symphonies.
“If I remember correctly, I solved three.”
“Yes, you were the best. Even Eden only managed to solve two. Honestly, I never thought there would be a newcomer who could solve those riddles. Objectively, you were superior to Eden in every aspect. That’s an undeniable fact.”
Then why?
“I also had similar concerns in the past. It was when I was studying under Professor Leopold Auer. He declared that he would have only one favorite student, and Yasha and I were in the running. Back then, I was confident. Objectively, in terms of competition awards and other metrics, I felt I was not inferior to Yasha. At that time, Yasha Heifetz was a complete novice, so much so that he was even clumsy with spiccato. But in the end, Professor Auer chose Yasha Heifetz.”
Gustav’s wrinkled eyes reflected the past.
“In my hot-blooded youth, I couldn’t accept that fact. I went to Professor Auer’s house, drenched in heavy rain. Seeing my face, flushed with drunkenness, Professor Auer said this to me.”
Gustav furrowed his brows momentarily, as if recalling that day.
“‘You and I are different colors.’ I was shocked. I thought I was the most outstanding talent, yet I couldn’t be with the best mentor, all because of that seemingly trivial reason. At that time, I thought it was just an excuse from a professor who didn’t want to teach me. But as time passed and I became a mentor myself, I understood.”
“What do you mean?”
Gustav gave a mysterious smile without answering. Yuri, as if to quench his burning thirst, gulped down the white wine in one go.
After some time, Gustav slowly began to speak.
“A mentor is like fertile soil that can provide nutrients. The student is like a sensitive flower. The appearance of the flower depends on the soil it grows in. When you meet the violinist Hyun, you will understand the feelings I had.”
The empty wine glass caught my eye.
“Looking at you now is like seeing my younger self, drenched in heavy rain.”
“Hyun, can you help me too?”
The problem started when I corrected the posture of a violinist in the ensemble. A persistent member, who had watched a documentary about Queen Elizabeth, begged me to correct her posture, and as soon as I did, her tone became richer.
“Chloe, I don’t know much about the viola.”
The violist Chloe looked crestfallen. “Okay, but don’t be disappointed.”
Chloe nodded, her freckles moving up and down.
To the untrained eye, the viola looks similar to the violin, but they are actually quite different instruments. The deep, resonant range of the viola is something the violin can’t match, and the greater the skill difference, the more distinct the tone becomes.
But why?
Ziiing.
Chloe’s eyes widened.
“It changed!”
Chloe unknowingly raised her voice. No wonder, because just a slight adjustment of her posture had made a significant difference in tone.
When the usually timid Chloe raised her voice, even the members who hadn’t been paying attention hurried over to me. Even Michael, who played the snare drum, asked me to correct his grip, but that was beyond my ability!
“Hmm, how should I explain this?”
The cellist Emanuel rubbed his bald head like a detective.
“The term ‘absolute pitch’ doesn’t do it justice. This is something even Mozart couldn’t have achieved if he were alive!”
I didn’t know what was going on either.
I simply changed the postures of those who had been holding their instruments in a standardized way for their entire lives, based on what I saw.
Their faces were all flushed, as if they were holding their instruments for the first time.
I was just as bewildered. Who would have thought my ability would extend to the cello, viola, and double bass?
“The Muse’s hand!”
Emanuel suddenly shouted, as if the thought had just occurred to him. It seemed like a nickname derived from King Midas’s hand, but he looked very satisfied.
Then it happened.
“Hyun, could I see you for a moment?”
Maestro Spencer appeared. “Shall we go all out?”
Spencer nodded briefly.
“Hyun, I don’t want your first ensemble performance to start off dry. Moreover, isn’t this your home country? Don’t be burdened, just think about the audience who came to hear your melody. For them, your first stage will be an eternal memory.”
It was an unexpected proposal.
Just standing on the London Symphony’s encore stage was a great honor. When I couldn’t easily respond, Spencer spoke first.
“What if we set up the stage like Paganini?”
“Pardon?”
Spencer gave a mysterious smile.
“Make it memorable for everyone.”
The reflection in the mirror still felt unfamiliar. I hadn’t worn a tuxedo in my previous life, but never at such a young age.
The members were busy shouting that I looked cute, but no matter how I looked at it, I just seemed like a little penguin.
Knock, knock.
There was a knock on the door.
“Hyun, do you have a moment?”
Cold eyes stared directly at me.
“Yes, I do.”
It was Dmitri, who usually didn’t talk to me. I had thought we could never become close, but seeing him visit me right before the performance, perhaps that wasn’t entirely true.
“Aren’t you nervous right before the performance?”
Of course, I wasn’t completely free from nerves. But.
“I’m more excited than nervous, just from holding the bow.”
Dmitri showed a strange expression.
“Hyun, I had my first ensemble performance with an orchestra when I was twenty-five. It’s been over ten years, but back then I was so nervous I worried I might collapse on stage.”
Dmitri, known for his lack of expression, was also capable of feeling nervous?
“I eventually found peace only after going into a warehouse where no one else was and shouting loudly. For a shy Russian bachelor to hold a violin in front of thousands of people was pure torture. Even now, my heart races whenever I hold the violin in front of an audience. Each time, I go into a warehouse where no one else is and empty my mind.”
Now I understood. The reason Dmitri had come to see me.
He came to ease my nerves, worried that I might be feeling uneasy. It was the concertmaster’s duty to consider the condition of both the members and the soloist.
“Hyun, what do you think a violin is?”
“I think of it as a living soul. Even if it’s the same violin, the legato, spiccato, and trill sound completely different depending on who plays it.”
“Then, how do you feel about your violin today?”
Without a word, I looked at the old case containing my fantasy.
“Well, I’m not sure.”
Dmitri showed a faint smile, one I had never seen before.
“Like Maestro, I didn’t believe in prodigies. But after spending the last few days with you, my thoughts have changed. I came to ease your mind, but instead, I find myself comforted. I’ll be waiting for you on the encore stage. Show the audience clearly.”
As he left, Dmitri quietly spoke in Russian.
“Show them Hyun’s world.”
The concert hall at the Seoul Arts Center was packed from early evening.
It was so crowded that the term “a sea of people” was appropriate. The seats were completely filled. Had there ever been this many people gathered since the concert hall was built?
Here and there, prominent figures in the country could be seen, as well as world-renowned maestros.
The most excited were none other than the broadcasting stations and journalists. For the first time in Korea, a world-class orchestra was performing. Their excitement was understandable.
Soon, the buzzing audience fell silent in an instant.
The orchestra had appeared.
A tense atmosphere settled under the soft lighting, as if a war was about to break out.
When the conductor appeared, the orchestra members stood up in unison amid thunderous applause. Spencer, with his deep-set eyes, bowed to the audience.
Spencer immediately turned to face the orchestra members. Each one had eyes blazing, as if they were fully prepared.
The theme of the performance was Beethoven Recycle.
Someone once said,
“Beethoven’s symphonies are impossible to interpret.”
Because the preferences of conductors vary so greatly, the direction of the piece also changes. Especially when it came to Beethoven’s music.
Some believe that the musical symbols should be interpreted literally, while others think they should be considered according to the characteristics of the orchestra. What about the tempo? The breath needed to start a symphony is not exactly marked, so each conductor’s interpretation varied.
In this regard, the start of the London Symphony was like thunder. Dududung―!
The conductor’s baton sliced through the air forcefully.
Beethoven Symphony No. 5, “Fate.”
Dozens of instruments began to sound in unison, following the thin and delicate movements of the baton.
The baton, which indicated tempo, rhythm, and the direction of the melody, moved the members in perfect harmony.
The intense movements of the baton were matched by a continuous series of thunderous melodies.
Dududung―!
Indeed, it was a performance that deserved the phrase “truly remarkable.” One could feel the power of the conductor and the vibrancy of the orchestra.
The audience held their breaths as the continuous, shocking melodies reverberated.
In the seamless flow of the ensemble, they couldn’t take their eyes or ears off for even a moment.
The performance was as flawless as if a giant instrument was being played.
Beethoven Symphony No. 9, “Choral.”
From the Symphony No. 5 to the Choral, it was a performance that ran non-stop.
Considering that the world’s top orchestras rarely use Beethoven’s symphonies as their repertoire, this was undoubtedly a significant decision.
Though famous among the public, it was a piece that was difficult to satisfy the audience with. However. Kwadeuk!
The audience was already gripping their hands tightly, feeling the thrill running through their bodies.
Freude, schöner Götterfunken! Götterfunken!
Joy, beautiful spark of the gods! Beautiful spark of the gods!
At the end of the second part, the choir’s shout made the audience marvel.
The resounding voices from soprano to tenor were in perfect harmony with the thunderous orchestra.
Everyone in the concert hall felt their hearts racing without rest.
The final encore,
All the members seemed ready and composed. The audience, with flushed faces, looked at the conductor’s fingertips.
But the soloist was nowhere to be seen. Yet the orchestra showed no signs of disturbance. As the soloist continued to be absent, an unknown murmur filled the hall.
Just as that murmur began to grow.
Ziiing―!
