“How is the atmosphere on the set?”
The crimson leaves gently settled down.
“It has already been three months since the first crank-in. However, the atmosphere on the set is heating up more and more each day. After all, who would find it hard to listen to a live performance by Paganini? Some even feel regretful because we’re shooting so many performance scenes in a row. You know, you should savor the sweet things.”
The bitter espresso felt sweeter than ever.
“Is there a reason for filming the performance scenes all at once?”
“Our Paganini is still a student, so it can’t be helped. He has to return to Korea before winter comes.”
Adam Whishaw nodded with a faint smile. He understood the director’s regretful gaze. Listening to his performance felt as if Paganini had come back to life.
“Are there any special episodes that happened during the shoot?”
Jean-Pierre showed clear signs of contemplation on his face.
Was it because there were no episodes? Oh no, there would be episodes created constantly when you’re with him. After all, isn’t he a violinist who inspires just by being there?
“There was a time we shot a special scene in Germany. It was a scene of Paganini performing on a rocking boat. For simultaneous recording, it could have been done on stable ground, but Hyun insisted on performing on the rocking boat.”
“So, what happened?”
“The large boat rocked like a cradle, but Hyun’s posture was as natural as water flowing. The melody that pierced our ears was unparalleled. Everyone must have thought the same thing in disbelief. That Paganini’s legend was being reenacted before our eyes. Of course, we captured this as making film footage as well.”
Although Adam wanted to check the making film footage right away, there were still questions left to ask. He reluctantly put aside his regret and fiddled with his pen and notebook.
“Is it true that a Guarneri is being used on set?” “It hasn’t been used yet, though.”
“Does that mean there are plans to use it?”
“There are many stories about how Niccolò Paganini got the Guarneri ‘Cannon’. Some say he received it as a gift from a noble, others say he got it through an auction, or even through gambling. However, it is known that his first performance was clearly for one person.”
Jean-Pierre eagerly awaited the upcoming melody of the Guarneri. “For the woman he loved.”
“Imagine you’re holding a small golf ball.”
“Like, like this?”
It felt more like a private lesson than a movie shoot.
Thanks to this, I became quite close with the actors. I never imagined I would become close like siblings with a famous Hollywood actor. It was something unimaginable in my previous life.
“Instead of thinking about drawing with force, think of the bow as just brushing past the string. You always unconsciously put too much strength in your right index finger when bowing.”
“Hyun, can you really see that?”
“Most famous violinists would probably notice it too. The sound produced when you draw the bow is different. It’s rough, like someone walking hastily.”
To ordinary ears, it might sound the same. It was a subtle difference but one that sharp ears could not miss.
Alessandro gulped and took his stance. He had been taking my lessons for several months. Now, he would believe anything I said, even if I told him to make soy sauce from red beans.
After slowly lifting the bow and smoothly drawing it across the string, I asked, “How is it? Isn’t bowing much easier?”
Alessandro’s face was filled with astonishment.
“Hyun, you always manage to surprise me. Every doctor said I’d never be able to play the violin freely again. At this rate, I might even be able to enter the Queen Elisabeth Competition!”
“You might be restricted by the age limit, though.”
Indeed, Alessandro’s violin skills had improved to the point where the phrase “rapid progress” was an apt description.
He was originally a music student who loved the violin. Teaching him was quite satisfying, so I often played the violin with Alessandro on days without shooting.
The same went for Baek Junghoon. Was I always this thrilled to teach others?
I even thought I should open a violin academy instead of suggesting my mother start a soy sauce marinated crab business.
“Hyun, are you bringing the Guarneri to the next shoot?”
Alessandro’s face was brimming with excitement. And why not, considering it was a Guarneri. It was a famous instrument regarded as one of the three great violins, so it was irresistibly attractive to any violinist. But.
“I’m having second thoughts.”
“Why?”
“No one knows what piece Paganini first performed with the Guarneri.”
It was his first performance for the woman he loved. Some claimed he played a famous composer’s piece, while others insisted he performed a serenade.
Moreover, it was a scene that didn’t exist in the movies I saw in my past life. It must have been a butterfly effect caused by Fiore’s appearance. In any case.
“Hyun, why are you overthinking this? Director Jean-Pierre didn’t entrust everything to you without reason. The way you’ve embodied Paganini over the past three months is the real deal. He must have added the scene after much consideration. Just play whatever you want!”
It seemed Alessandro had already become one of my ardent fans.
“Hyun-ah, are you not going back to Korea again this time? Should I go back alone again?”
It had been three long months of continuous movie shooting. Although we were filming scenes of Niccolò Paganini’s performances, there were so many performance scenes that there was hardly any time to rest.
Even though Im Hyera went back to Korea occasionally during holidays, I stayed in Italy. The reason was simple.
“I have to stay on set until all simultaneous recordings are finished.”
It was a job under contract, and I couldn’t be careless just because I was young. Im Hyera seemed to have expected this and smiled contentedly.
“I’ve already spoken to the school. But Hyun, I heard you ranked first in the whole school for the final exams of the first semester? The principal was so pleased. Not only do you bring fame to the school, but you also excel in your studies.”
In my previous life, I was known as a die-hard at the Judicial Research and Training Institute. How could I falter on middle school problems? It would be a waste of my upgraded software.
“But aren’t you curious about what’s going on in Korea?”
How could I not be curious? It must be in the throes of the financial crisis. Moreover, there was no news or a single newspaper in Italy that could inform me about Korea’s situation. But by now, probably.
“Has the government requested financial aid?”
Im Hyera’s eyes widened like saucers. She must not have expected me to guess it correctly.
The financial crisis had arrived about a year earlier than in my previous life. Originally, the request for financial aid should have been made a year later, but the timing was right now. Besides, if you’re going to get hit, it’s better to get hit early. At that moment.
“We’ve arrived.”
Outside the car window, a building shining like crystal came into view. My heart began to race again. It was the auction house where the Guarneri was kept.
The auctioneer who had greeted us before came out to guide us.
As we walked, I explained the next shoot’s storyboard to Im Hyera.
“No one knows what piece Paganini played?”
There were no such records in Paganini’s diary kept in Genoa, nor had I seen such a scene in any movie in my previous life, so it was natural to feel anxious.
The unwavering trust of Director Jean-Pierre and the actors made the burden on my shoulders heavier. What piece did Paganini play?
At that moment.
“Hyun-ah, should we ask the auctioneer? He seems quite knowledgeable. And he’s a native Italian.”
As someone who had overseen the auction of antique artworks for a long time, his depth of knowledge would undoubtedly be different. Without waiting for my response, Im Hyera was already conversing with the auctioneer. Soon after.
“Violinist Hyun, if you don’t mind, may I offer a suggestion?”
The auctioneer cautiously began. He was an elderly auctioneer who had listened to my Guarneri performance before. He had been very kind to me. This time too, he smiled warmly like a kind grandfather.
“There is an Italian proverb that says, ‘When you see the woman you love, a song naturally flows from your eyes.’ Maybe it was the same for Paganini? He probably didn’t decide on a piece in advance. The moment he saw her, the melody must have come to him naturally.”
I bowed my head and thanked him. ‘There seems to be a hint in his words.’
However.
“Hmm, a performance for the woman he loved.”
Why did Im Hyera’s expression look unusual?
The reason Niccolò Paganini gave his Guarneri the name “Cannon” was simple. Even if the bow barely grazed the strings, the melody would resonate long and high. It was such a sensitive instrument that it was said no one but Paganini could handle it.
My Fiore was the same.
Thump, thump, thump.
Just holding the bow made my heart race. Like when I performed before, it seemed eager to unleash the melody it had been holding back.
If Paganini’s Cannon boasted long and high notes, Fiore boasted deep and splendid tones. The moment the string and bow met, everyone would know. But.
“Hyun, are you not ready yet? Shall we take a break and continue later?”
I still couldn’t decide what piece to play. I gave a slight nod in response to Jean-Pierre’s question.
Even the staff seemed visibly excited by the appearance of the Guarneri.
I stood on a set that perfectly recreated the Genoa concert hall where Paganini had first played the Guarneri.
‘The woman he loved.’
Who should I think of? Looking back on my previous life, I had never loved anyone romantically. Even my marriage was more of a stepping stone to success.
Suddenly, someone flashed through my mind. A girl who cherished the blue hairpin I gave her like a treasure.
“Director.”
At my brief word, Jean-Pierre immediately nodded. We could understand each other with just a glance now.
I carefully lifted the bow. Among the countless scores I had written, there was one inspired by that girl.
Zing.
The moment the bow touched the string, was it an illusion that a cold breeze blew? The string gleamed as if a small hand was tugging at my sleeve, and it produced a joyful melody.
My left hand, which was pressing the strings, moved continuously, reminiscing old memories.
The harmonics resonated like the girl’s clear voice, and sometimes the trills depicted the girl’s quick steps.
Zing―!
At that moment, Fiore’s melody reached the ceiling. Although the piece lacked form, my bowing quickened as I neared the finale.
Plucking the string with my left hand to express the throbbing heartbeat, I created a brilliant sound with my right hand holding the bow.
Fiore’s beautiful melody enhanced the performance, so there was no need for further words.
The audience couldn’t close their mouths, captivated by the delightful performance until the bow reluctantly parted from the string.
“Huh?”
Was it a dream, or was it because I played too passionately? Could it be that Fiore, preserved for centuries, had a talent unknown to me?
With countless questions on my mind, I slowly lifted the bow. The direction it pointed to was.
“Yooha?”
