“A natural talent, there’s no other way to describe it.”
When Michel Piccoli first encountered Hugo’s “Les Misérables,” he was overwhelmed with emotion. Had he ever been so excited about someone’s music?
The boy’s notes were like a signal flare, awakening his primal instincts as a musician. Was this how Chopin felt looking at Liszt, or Salieri looking at Mozart?
“Hyun, have you really never learned composition?”
Michel barely managed to suppress a sigh of admiration as the boy nodded briefly.
Composing popular music is not an easy task. If you compare a composer to a painter, first you need to set the composition to understand the piece, and finishing the coloring and sketching isn’t something you can learn in a day or two.
Moreover, band music is often compared to a landscape painting because you need to show harmony that encompasses the entire band, not just draw a picture of one person.
But.
‘How on earth is this possible?’
Though he majored in classical music and was strong in the composition of instruments, this seemed beyond the norm. Michel himself grew up being called a prodigy, but this was different.
When the boy’s hand, busy painting a landscape, finally stopped.
“Hyun, can I ask you something?”
Michel cautiously began.
It was the same when he first heard the boy’s original piece, “Beautiful Life.” Just a 14-year-old child. Didn’t he have such short arms that even manipulating a synthesizer seemed difficult?
He looked much younger than his actual age, almost childish in appearance. But what kind of life had he lived to express such emotions?
Michel couldn’t believe the boy’s claim that he completed the intricate emotional lines in just two days. But seeing him now, it seemed true.
“Hyun, each composer has their own detailed characteristics. Some might find the chord first, others might think of the melody, or some might ponder deeply about which rhythm to start with. The initial sketching part is the most crucial. I’m curious, how do you compose, Hyun?”
“Well, Michel, I didn’t have time to learn composition professionally. To be honest, I just draw whatever musical symbols come to mind. That’s how ‘Beautiful Life’ came to be. Just a moment, I have another good idea!”
At that moment, the boy’s hand began to move again. It was as if his small fingers condensed the interpretation of band music, planning, chords, rhythm, and chorus into one process.
Michel thought that the sight of him constantly writing down the inspiration that came to him on the staff was very much like Mozart in the old stories.
“Hyun—!”
When I arrived at the filming site, Isaac waved both hands at me. Though we were the same age, it was still hard to get used to the sight of a grown boy running toward me with open arms, let alone the admiration in his eyes.
“I had an interview today, Hyun, and I mentioned you!”
“Me?”
“Yeah, I told them there’s an amazing violinist on the movie set. The reporter seemed to know your name too. They called you the Mozart of Brussels!”
Isaac excitedly continued to recount the contents of the interview, but it seemed like he had just talked about me rather than introducing the movie.
As Isaac’s story was nearing its end, Jean-Pierre approached. “Hyun, I’m sorry for calling you so late at night.”
It was an originally scheduled night shoot for two days later. But there was a reason for the sudden change.
“It’s okay, Director. A night sky like this isn’t common.”
It was as if Vincent van Gogh’s Starry Night came to life. Didn’t it feel like the stars embroidered on the black canvas would fall at any moment?
Just looking at it made me lost in deep thought. From the perspective of a director who values visual aesthetics, he couldn’t give up such a night.
“Isaac, you know what we’re shooting today, right?”
Isaac nodded without hesitation. Everyone on set knew how much he read the script. When discussing the movie shoot, his eyes, usually childlike, became endlessly serious.
“It’s the day Moses first performs someone else’s piece.”
“That’s right. If he makes even the slightest mistake, the people he considered family could die.”
The new warden of the camp tormented Moses to the point of cruelty. One day, he played an anonymous violinist’s piece and ordered Moses to play it exactly the same. If even one note was wrong, he threatened to kill the Jewish prisoners detained with Moses each time.
When the movie shoot began,
“Hmmm.”
Jean-Pierre stroked his chin in frustration. Isaac’s acting, understanding the script and immersing himself in the emotions, was excellent.
But there was something missing, a feeling that it was 2% short. It was a scene no different from past ones, but I couldn’t shake the feeling either. Then, a brilliant idea flashed in my mind.
“Director, how about putting a blindfold on Moses?”
“A blindfold?”
“The people in the camp all trust Moses. They know they’ll die if he makes a mistake, but they force a smile. But Moses, a child, must be trembling. He must be anxious, scared, and terrified. If his eyes waver even slightly, those lined up along the wall will be greatly disturbed. If I were Moses, I wouldn’t want to show my emotions, even if I had to wear a blindfold.”
Jean-Pierre’s eyes widened at the unexpected idea. But soon, he shook his head.
“Hyun, no matter how much of a genius Moses is, is that really possible? Not only is it the first time he’s playing someone else’s piece, but there are countless distractions from the gramophone. It’s impossible to do it blindfolded.”
Playing someone else’s piece for the first time is undoubtedly challenging. It’s something only possible in movies or novels.
Moreover, the quality of the gramophone wasn’t good, and the sound of insects on a quiet night was louder than anything else.
Could he really complete the piece with such a handicap? At that moment,
“Director, can I borrow a blindfold?”
If so, I had no choice but to try it myself.
“Jean-Pierre, calm down and tell me.”
Michel was almost out of his mind from the early morning call. It was hard to believe the excited voice belonged to a director who had stayed up all night shooting.
“He played a piece he’d never heard before while blindfolded? From that old gramophone record?”
Michel’s shoulders shook as he held the receiver. Jean-Pierre’s story was so intriguing that it made his mouth water.
Jean-Pierre was a director who valued realism. Because of that, he had set expectations, even for a genius. But as of yesterday, that wall had crumbled.
Not only did he blindfold Hyun, but he also played a different record than the one planned. Yet,
“He captured the tone better than the original piece? Jean-Pierre, do you have that footage?”
Thankfully, the entire process was recorded on a 6mm camera for the making film.
It was hard to believe. Human ears aren’t recorders; could he really grasp all that in a fleeting moment?
Jean-Pierre might exaggerate, but he wouldn’t make things up. Michel couldn’t wait to see the footage in person.
Just then.
“Michel.”
A visitor came to the studio. It was the producer he had met before and the new band following him.
Ah, their name was Iris, wasn’t it?
“What do you mean the composition is already finished?”
The producer looked puzzled. It was understandable. It was barely enough time to think about the chords and melody.
Of course, when multiple composers collaborated, it sometimes ended this quickly. But since Hyun was the only one commissioned, it was indeed surprising. Too fast, even.
“It’s really finished, Paul.”
“Michel, you didn’t call us all here just to show us one sample, did you?”
Michel smiled faintly. Her gaze landed on the numerous sheets of music the young Mozart had written. They were in for a big surprise.
The colorful leaves reminded me it was late autumn.
Perhaps because it was the day Moses would play the violin for the last time, unknown birds circled the clear sky as if waiting for his performance.
“Hyun, how’s this posture?”
On the hill, Isaac kept changing his stance.
Since it was a scene of playing an invisible violin, the position of his hands and shoulders was crucial. Without the violin, it was difficult to get a feel for it.
“Isaac, you don’t need to worry too much about your posture. Today, it’s not just Moses playing alone, right?”
That’s how violins were. Although there was a standardized posture, everyone had their unique style. Moreover, this was an invisible violin.
Today’s shoot was a sad yet beautiful scene where Moses played the invisible violin, and numerous prisoners in the camp formed an ensemble by whistling through the cold iron bars.
Moses, perhaps inspired by my brief words, suddenly hugged me.
“Hyun, you’re a genius! I could never have done this role without you.”
Since the day he played blindfolded, he had completely regarded me as his teacher. Jean-Pierre also often sought my opinion, even on scenes unrelated to the violin.
“Hyun, come sit here.”
It had become my designated seat next to Jean-Pierre. “How do you feel about today’s last shoot?”
Jean-Pierre asked, referring to the last shoot of “La Vie en Rose.” It meant this was my last shoot.
A lot had happened in the short span of just over a month.
Never in my past life did I imagine I would coach a future Hollywood star on a film set.
“The sound director likes you a lot, Hyun. If the opportunity arises, he wants to hire you for the sound department in his next movie. And in my opinion, you have a great talent for acting. Understanding the filming composition and visual aesthetics is innate, and you have it perfectly.”
“Me?”
“Absolutely. Isaac is one of the best child actors of his age. Because of that, his values and pride in acting are very strong despite his young age. The fact that someone like Isaac consults you not only on the violin but also on minor acting details is a huge deal. Isaac instinctively knows, Hyun. He knows you have talent.”
Oh, come on, I’m not going into film acting.
“Actually, if ‘La Vie en Rose’ is a success, I’m thinking of making a music film related to Paganini. Ideally, I’d like to cast you as the young Paganini…”
But the skin color would be an issue, as an Asian child couldn’t portray the Italian-born Niccolò Paganini’s childhood.
“I appreciate the sentiment, Director.”
“Every time I see you, Hyun, you don’t seem your age. It feels like I’m talking to someone my own age.”
Having lived a middle-aged life, the impatience of youth had long disappeared.
Jean-Pierre looked at me with a peculiar gaze before turning back to the filming camera. Isaac was ready to act.
With the assistant director’s clapperboard sound, the camera lights came on.
Moses no longer had an old violin in his hands. Was its string broken, or was the bow damaged, or had the warden done it?
At that moment, Moses’ nervous gaze met mine. As if reading my mind, Moses gave a faint smile.
Even though the warden pointed a gun at him, there was no more sadness in Moses’ eyes. Watching Jean-Pierre’s dry lips, I clenched my fist.
The iconic scenes from my past life were projected onto my eyes. Wheeeeee—
