“I never imagined that the successful bidder would be Mrs. Im.”
The reputation of an auction depends on the auctioneer’s name value. The elderly auctioneer with white hair in front of me was the most famous among European art dealers. It was said that there wasn’t a single famous painting in the world that hadn’t passed through his wrinkled hands.
“A certain violinist once said that if a Stradivarius is like the deep ocean, then a Guarneri del Gesù is like the vast land. But this Guarneri has been confined for a long time. Even after all the moisture in the wood had dried out, it has never been properly played.”
His wrinkled gaze fell on the Guarneri.
“In a way, it’s a pitiful thing. It surely has a sound of its own, but it has never once voiced it. As an auctioneer, I shouldn’t have personal feelings about a piece, but I hoped this Guarneri would go to someone who plays the instrument.”
The soundboard was so clean that it hardly showed any signs of age. It must have been kept in the safes of wealthy people since it was made by Guarneri hundreds of years ago.
Other Guarneris born in the same period resonated in the hands of the first virtuoso, Niccolò Paganini.
“Perhaps this Guarneri will go to the violinist who sat next to it?”
“Do you know the violinist Hyun?”
“Of course, I do. Mrs. Im, you may not know, but I am a classical music enthusiast. I am still eagerly waiting for his solo concert. That’s why I took the liberty to visit you, Mrs. Im. Are you not his Nadezhda von Meck?”
He was referring to the wife of the railroad tycoon who supported the great Russian composer Tchaikovsky.
She was considered the first patron to start the constant trust and full support to make great artists, rather than being just a pastime for the aristocrats.
“Hyun’s solo concert is being planned. We are preparing internally.”
“The greater the artist, the harder it is for them to be self-satisfied. Niccolò Paganini’s Guarneri was named ‘Il Cannone.’ I am very curious about what name will be given to this old violin.”
“Probably.”
The Guarneri looked as if it could burst into melody at any moment.
“Only Hyun would know that.”
Buzz.
The pitch trembled like an aspen tree. My arm was slightly shaking, and my breathing had become rough. The guidance I gave on finger and shoulder positions earlier had come to nothing.
Alessandro’s face was filled with tension. It must have been because the eternal maestro, Gustav, was watching him right in front.
After all, hadn’t he studied violin until university? Gustav was a legendary violinist whom all violinists admired, so it was natural to be nervous. At that moment,
Smack―!
My small hand gripped Alessandro’s shoulder.
Although everyone’s attention was on us, I didn’t mind. If I didn’t do this, I felt like Alessandro’s dazed mind wouldn’t return.
“Get a grip, Alessandro.”
I wanted to make him practice scales, but time was tight. We couldn’t afford to ruin the first crank-in.
Alessandro, facing my determined gaze, gulped and nodded.
“You need to find the pitch.”
Unlike the piano, where pitches are made, the violin’s fingerboard is blank. This meant that the pitch wasn’t fixed.
Moreover, the fingerboard was narrow, and the intervals between the strings were so close that even a slight misplacement of the fingers could change the pitch.
What use was excellent playing technique if the pitch lost its color?
“You said you wanted to create the perfect image of Paganini?”
It was a movie about the biography of Niccolò Paganini. No matter how good the sound recording was, the lead actor’s performance had to be perfect.
That’s probably why director Jean-Pierre cast Alessandro as Paganini. Although I didn’t know much else, his basics were solid.
“Director, can we take a moment?”
Jean-Pierre nodded readily, as there was still some time before the actual shooting.
Moreover, it was an indoor shoot, not an outdoor one. What did it matter if we stayed up all night for a perfect scene?
“From now on, Alessandro will play Paganini’s Caprice No. 24. I will continue to coach you throughout the performance. Is that alright?”
“I was hoping for that. Violinist Hyun.”
Alessandro bit his lip hard, showing his determination. No wonder, as he was known for his pride. His desire for perfection was greater than anyone else on set.
As Alessandro raised his bow to touch the strings,
“Your posture is wrong.”
A grueling battle was expected from the start. Caprice No. 24 was a piece that required considerable skill, even for someone who majored in violin.
Most of Paganini’s compositions were like that. Even renowned violinists rarely performed Paganini’s pieces on stage.
In a way, it was similar to Beethoven’s scores, which were avoided by masters.
“That’s wrong.”
A firm voice echoed. Using flageolet and double-stop techniques, one violin had to sound like it was creating two melodies. In that sense, Alessandro’s playing technique had issues.
“Bend your wrist more. Relax the tips of your fingers. They will naturally loosen. It will be easier that way.”
Just like a pianist’s tendinitis, Alessandro had a chronic problem with his left fingers. I finally understood why Alessandro had quit playing the violin.
“I’ll try again.”
I continued to coach him according to his physical condition. Like a dry land absorbing moisture, Alessandro’s learning ability was impressive. If it weren’t for his chronic problem, I could envision him as an excellent violinist.
How much time had passed? As Alessandro’s bow touched the ground, I smiled and nodded.
“Thank you, Violinist Hyun. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“I’ll accept your gratitude through your performance. Show us a magnificent Paganini.”
The hostility he showed on the first day had long disappeared. Alessandro was genuinely grateful to me.
After a brief break, the first filming began.
“Huff, huff.”
After finishing Paganini’s Caprice No. 24, Alessandro’s fingers trembled uncontrollably, and his face was flushed from the effort.
However, Jean-Pierre’s face was filled with excitement as he checked the filming camera. Alessandro had delivered a performance comparable to any decent violinist.
“Director, at this level, we might not need simultaneous recording.”
The assistant director’s comment was met with Jean-Pierre playfully hitting him with the script. Given Alessandro’s exceptional performance, such a reaction was expected.
I gave Alessandro a thumbs-up and moved on. Now it was my turn to show. Niccolò Paganini’s melody.
“It was truly on a different level.”
Jean-Pierre had a look of ecstasy. He vividly remembered the events on set.
Alessandro’s filming was successful. According to the assistant director, it was so good that simultaneous recording seemed unnecessary.
But everyone was captivated by Hyun’s performance that followed.
“Even though they played the same piece, different melodies resonated. The young maestro’s performance always enchants the eyes and ears. Just like the old tales.”
The flower petals floating in the teacup swayed pleasantly.
“I went to the set to give advice, but seeing the young maestro, I realized I wasn’t needed. He guided better than Professor Auer in the past. His name was Alessandro, right? No one could easily change his chronic problems and playing techniques in an instant. Not even if Professor Auer came back to life.”
Jean-Pierre was equally amazed by what he witnessed.
Who was Alessandro? A notoriously proud Hollywood actor. Yet, under Hyun’s firm guidance, he seemed like a docile lamb.
It was like watching a master craftsman’s method acting. Each word from Hyun carried an undeniable power.
“By the way, Violinist Hyun said he would bring the Guarneri next time?”
It was unexpected. People knew Hyun had a Stradivarius, but no one knew he also had a Guarneri.
When Jean-Pierre confirmed this, Gustav’s wrinkled eyes gleamed with happiness.
“I am really curious about what kind of sound the Guarneri will produce from his hands. May I occasionally visit the set?”
“It would be an honor, Maestro.”
Who could refuse an offer from the eternal maestro himself?
“Hyun, do you like it that much?”
Im Hyera, the director, looked at me warmly. Her expression said, ‘You finally look your age.’ It was understandable since I couldn’t stop smiling.
Not even achieving the top rank at the Judicial Research and Training Institute in my past life made me this happy. So why was the journey to retrieve the Guarneri so exciting?
“It will be kept with the auction house while you’re in Italy. You can take it out when needed. Of course, the guards will always accompany you.”
Given its high value, no place had better security than the auction house.
Moreover, it was an old violin sensitive to humidity and temperature. Storing it was a challenge.
A Chinese tycoon even remodeled an entire room to use as a case for his old violin.
“We’ve arrived.”
The building, with its crystal-like shining glass exterior, had tight security. Most of Europe’s contemporary art was likely stored here.
Surprisingly, the person who greeted us was not a staff member but the elderly auctioneer who conducted the auction. He was a well-known figure in the auction world.
We arrived at the vault guided by the auctioneer. The Guarneri I saw at the auction stood proudly, making my heart race again.
Seeing my flushed face, the auctioneer asked cautiously, “Would you like to play it?”
“Here?”
“Yes, there’s no reason not to.”
Even Im Hyera, who accompanied me, looked intrigued. I carefully took the Guarneri.
It was an instrument that had never properly voiced its sound in anyone’s hands for hundreds of years. It was so well-maintained that it looked like it was made recently.
Yet, the Guarneri was tuned and ready to play, with rosin on the bow.
“Let’s hear it.”
Your voice.
The moment the bow carefully touched the strings,
It was as if time had stopped, and the Guarneri released a sorrowful sound, expressing its long-held anguish.
The bow and strings continuously met. Any piece would do. As long as I could soothe its sorrow.
In the intense bowing, the elderly auctioneer showed a blissful expression, and Im Hyera tightly clasped her hands.
Only after the sharp bow left the shimmering strings did I realize its hidden name.
“You’ve waited so long.”
Hadn’t it spent hundreds of years alone? After the harsh winter, spring had finally arrived.
Like the Guarneri sprouting on the strings after enduring a sorrowful downpour. “Fiore.”
