For The Musical Genius (Novel) - Chapter 20
Chapter 20
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“Oppa, play for me!”
Son Yu-ha clung to me like a cicada on an old tree. Where had her initial prickliness gone? Now she followed me around like a country puppy. It was incomprehensible compared to her Ice Queen image from my past life, but what could I do? I had to accept it as my fate.
“Yu-ha, oppa needs to catch up on missed studies.”
I’d missed quite a few music lessons. Though that didn’t mean I’d neglected music study. In my past life, I’d passed the bar exam on my first try while being known as a zealot, but studying law hadn’t been particularly enjoyable then. Why was learning music so much fun?
“Hiing.”
Yu-ha reluctantly let go of my sleeve, unable to hide her disappointment. Her expression was so cute I couldn’t help but smile.
“Oh, Hyun is here today too?”
Just then, Park Sun-young appeared carrying her violin case.
‘Come to think of it.’
I hadn’t really seen Park Sun-young play violin properly. She only played briefly when correcting practice pieces. Strange, Yu-ha said she used to play other pieces often before.
As lessons continued, I glimpsed aspects of Park Sun-young I hadn’t normally noticed. Traces of anxiety and urgency occasionally showed on her face. For unknown reasons, she even seemed pursued by something. Of course, young Yu-ha would find it difficult to grasp such complex emotions in others. How could I tell at a glance?
Working as a prosecutor, you meet all sorts of people – from those who commit murder with normal faces to those wrongly accused despite looking villainous. Perhaps that naturally trained me to read others.
“Well, that’s enough Yu-ha.”
When Park Sun-young shifted her gaze from Yu-ha to me, she startled like a rabbit, eyes widening.
“Teacher, are you worried about something?”
At this unexpected question, Park Sun-young swallowed hard.
“Is it that obvious on my face?”
I nodded briefly. What was there to hide? With such serious concerns, this was no time for tutoring.
“Actually, I’m worried because my performance isn’t improving.”
Huh?
An unexpected answer. Well, if it were ordinary concerns, I was willing to listen as a life senior. Though I wasn’t sure how candidly Park Sun-young would open up to 14-year-old me. Still, performance skills? Park Sun-young was already quite talented with violin. Otherwise, she couldn’t have been entrusted with teaching music to a chaebol family. Just then.
“Hyun-ah, actually I have a favor to ask.”
Park Sun-young looked at me with brightening eyes, as if remembering something. Though somewhat uncomfortable, I couldn’t help it. I had opened the conversation.
“Would you watch my performance?”
“What?”
I raised my voice without thinking.
“You helped correct my piano playing habits before, couldn’t you do it again?”
Park Sun-young hadn’t forgotten that experience. Though she’d studied music her whole life, Kang-hyun had immediately spotted habits she hadn’t noticed. Somehow she felt Kang-hyun could identify her current problems.
Under Park Sun-young’s persistent gaze,
I reluctantly nodded.
The clock’s second hand moved endlessly. Yu-ha was already absorbed in watching Park Sun-young’s violin performance.
Zing.
As the final note ended with the bow pointing down, Park Sun-young released her held breath. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead. Hmm, how to explain this? The performance was perfect. The understanding of the piece, pitch, and rhythm showed no deviation. Like a succession of mechanical performances.
“It’s perfect?”
At my answer, Park Sun-young dejectedly replied “Really?” Her expression suggested she didn’t know what to do. I carefully recalled her performance in my mind. Yes, there was indeed a problem.
“Um teacher, don’t think too far ahead while performing.”
Her performance was problematic because it was too perfect.
Questions filled Park Sun-young’s eyes.
“Teacher, you seem to think one tempo ahead every time you play. It’s especially noticeable when alternating between up-bow and down-bow.”
For instance, if computers develop in the future, machine-played violin would sound similar to Park Sun-young’s. A problem arising from pursuing perfection to avoid any mistakes. She probably sought even more perfection whenever something felt off. How could she know her own problem?
“What good is perfect technique if the melody dies?”
Park Sun-young looked like she’d been doused with cold water.
*
“Jin-seok hyung, it’s been a while.”
My aunt’s son Yu Jin-seok nervously nodded at my voice. Being timid by nature, he still occasionally tensed up around me. Well, I wouldn’t grab his hair in front of adults anymore. How did someone like this end up committing fraud later?
The Ichon-dong mansion was full of people. Aunt and uncle’s couple and the uncles’ families had arrived. The reason was simple: it was grandfather’s birthday. But since they were all people who hadn’t received kind words, they were noticeably subdued. Especially the younger uncle, who’d been expelled from the company, showed clear anxiety on his face.
“Father, happy birthday.”
Grandfather sighed at the older uncle’s voice.
How could he be pleased with children who only caused trouble?
“Grandfather, happy birthday.”
“Thank you, child.”
Perhaps thinking of his grandchildren, grandfather belatedly showed a smile.
The dinner was quiet, with silence hanging over the table. Even aunt, who would normally lead in pleasing grandfather, was just watching carefully. The older uncle, unable to stand it, caught my eye while checking grandfather’s mood, with an ‘aha’ expression.
“Hyun-ah, you’ll go back when summer vacation ends, right? I’m sorry I couldn’t do much for you while you were in Seoul.”
Well well, speaking words he didn’t mean. The older uncle who couldn’t hide his discomfort seeing me always at the company. He’d become even more wary after attending the gathering together. Then aunt chimed in, not missing the opportunity.
“Speaking of which, Hyun-ja, she should at least show her face on father’s birthday. Only coming when she needs something. Wouldn’t it be nice if she came on days like this? Right, father?”
Aunt quickly closed her mouth as grandfather’s brow furrowed.
“I spoke with Hyun-ja and Kang-seo this morning, so don’t worry.”
At grandfather’s words, aunt and the uncles’ eyes widened like saucers. They seemed surprised not just about mother but also at the term “Kang-seo.” How could this be, when he’d never acknowledged his youngest daughter’s husband as son-in-law his whole life? After a sudden silence, as if denying it all.
“Ah, father. Look at me. Our Jin-seok was selected as school representative for the national English competition. You wouldn’t believe how many parents keep asking how we taught him English.”
Aunt hurriedly changed the subject. But why English of all things? The older uncle, probably remembering my English skills from the gathering, kept his mouth shut like a mute, while grandfather seemed to barely listen to aunt’s words.
Clack.
Then grandfather put down his chopsticks and looked at me.
“Hyun will live here from now on.”
What does this mean?
But that wasn’t all.
“Kang-seo and Hyun-ja will also move to Seoul soon.”
The uncles’ and aunt’s faces filled with shock at this unexpected news.
* * *
Boom!
It was like thunder.
Spencer’s baton was like magic. The musicians holding their instruments were all captivated and led by that magic. Like a lighthouse guiding those adrift on the vast sea, they were transfixed by Spencer’s conducting. It wasn’t just about tempo progression, rhythm control, or melodic direction. His detailed coaching encompassing the entire score was beyond words.
Haydn the father of symphonies, spontaneous Schubert, musical saint Beethoven, praising Handel – there are many masters. Their symphonies, engraved in history, were later reinterpreted and performed under countless conductors’ hands. But arguably, none were as obsessive and all-consuming in interpreting music as Spencer. Even now.
The musicians all felt their hearts beating wildly. Though all boasting illustrious careers as renowned performers, when they became orchestra members under Spencer’s conducting, they filled with joy from head to toe as if learning music for the first time. That joy infected even the audience’s gaze, and when the endless melody reached the ceiling, finally.
As the baton crossed the air,
Boom!
Under his fingertips, the orchestra finally became one.
*
“Dmitri.”
Concertmaster Dmitri understood the hidden meaning in Spencer’s brief words. Even after leaving the stage, Spencer didn’t greet each musician individually. The same went for the pianist who performed the concerto with them. He also strictly avoided meeting visitors. Famous for watching performance recordings until the tape wore out, the London Symphony’s principal conductor would immediately review videos after concerts, putting everything else aside.
“Maestro.”
Dmitri carefully handed over the performance recording. Spencer stared at the tape in his hands for a long time. The performance had been satisfactorily pleasing. The musicians made no mistakes, delivering a performance worthy of London Symphony’s reputation. But something kept tugging at his mind like a fish hook.
Crack.
As Spencer clenched his fist, Dmitri’s eyes widened. There was clearly some change in his mood. But no matter how he thought about it, he couldn’t understand why. Had there been some mistake during the performance that he hadn’t noticed?
“Dmitri, do you believe in prodigies?”
Then Spencer’s dry voice was heard.
Prodigies?
What could the Maestro mean? Questions filled Dmitri’s cold eyes. But he shook his head and answered.
“Well, Maestro…”
Of course, he had once believed in uniquely different musicians. But seeing their bare faces up close made him think differently. While there might be differences in talent, without effort it couldn’t be surpassed.
At that moment Spencer stood up.
“Watch this.”
Spencer inserted the tape received from Samuel into the machine. As Dmitri’s puzzled gaze reached the screen, after a brief silence, the video began playing.
‘A child?’
An Asian-looking child stood on stage.
How much time had passed?
“Maestro, this is…”
It made no sense.
Spencer knew without looking at the astonishment on Dmitri’s face. Even he had doubted his eyes at first. There was still much time until the Asian tour. But this child’s performance wouldn’t leave his mind. The naturally flowing technique and emotional melody couldn’t be simply imitated.
“What country is he from? The masters there must be desperate to take him as a student if they’ve seen him.”
What?
“Or perhaps he already has an outstanding teacher.”
Why hadn’t he thought of that?
That others besides himself might covet this child.
At that moment Spencer jumped up from his seat as if his pants were on fire.
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