For The Musical Genius (Novel) - Chapter 74
Chapter 74
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“This is my seventeenth year.”
I’ve been playing the piano since I was five years old.
“At first, I was so frustrated that I wanted to cut off my fingers because they wouldn’t move the way I wanted. It was even worse when I was practicing advanced techniques. Back then, I thought if I couldn’t play Liszt’s pieces, there was no reason to live. I practiced day and night, over and over again.”
The tips of my fingers are calloused. The fingerprints on all ten fingers have faded. I pushed myself hard to gain recognition from my family. I had to bloom quickly to avoid being ignored. That’s why I grew up being called a prodigy, but I always had to live with illnesses like tendonitis.
“You might call them scars of glory? No, they’re just foolish and stupid. Tendonitis, carpal tunnel syndrome, focal dystonia—these are diseases that shorten a pianist’s lifespan. It was like I made a deal with the devil. Just give me a little more skill in my fingers. You can take them whenever you want.”
That’s how desperate I was as a child.
“Over the past two years, I’ve learned a lot. It was a time to reflect on my life and posture as a pianist. Chopin said that the best teacher is your own ear. I’ve come to understand a lot about myself during this time. But you know what? If the past two years helped me grow, the past two weeks completely shook my values.”
What does that mean? The interviewer’s face was filled with curiosity.
“You asked whose piece ‘Iron Blood’ is, right?”
Of course, who wouldn’t be curious? It was an unexpected addition to the repertoire. Moreover, no one had ever heard of the score for ‘Iron Blood.’ Even the composer remains unknown, adding to the mystery.
“When I first heard ‘Iron Blood,’ I felt my life change. My heart raced just like when I first touched the piano as a child. That person knew everything about music. Just by watching me, they could tell what I was thinking as I pressed the keys and how relaxed my fingers were. Even if Mozart came back to life, he couldn’t teach like that. Who is that person? The owner of ‘Iron Blood.'”
Baek Jeong-hoon’s eyes pointed to a young boy. If I had grown over the past two years, this boy seemed to have broken through his limits. I went to propose a collaboration but ended up learning music from him. When his musical talent and numerous scores are revealed, the world will be shaken once again.
“He is my teacher.”
*
It felt like the past two weeks had been a dream. Baek Jeong-hoon, who always showed up for work without fail, was nowhere to be seen, and I felt a bit empty. With the recital approaching, he must be busy with rehearsals and stage checks. Some people wondered why he was holding a recital when the country was in turmoil, but it was reported in the newspapers that all proceeds and donations would go to helping the underprivileged, making him a role model for society. Moreover, he’s a pianist hailed as the next great maestro.
‘By the way, why hasn’t the composer been revealed?’
By adding ‘Iron Blood’ to the repertoire and keeping the composer a secret, he inadvertently turned into a mysterious composer. It seems like Baek Jeong-hoon has some plan, but I can’t figure it out. Whenever I ask, he just says it’s an event and skillfully avoids the conversation.
At that moment, I saw the piano chair where Baek Jeong-hoon always sat.
‘Can I do it?’
The studio was filled with stacks of sheet music. Of course, there were countless piano pieces among them. Baek Jeong-hoon always drooled over the scores. Most of them were notes he wrote down while studying the piano, imagining the music in his head. Looking at the notes on the staff, it felt like they were begging to be played.
“Whew—!”
It’s a different feeling from playing the violin. When I place my fingers on the keys, it feels like my ten fingers have a mind of their own and are speaking to me. The moment I exhale the emotions that have risen to my throat.
My ten fingers began to move as if in competition. It was a piece that expressed the beauty of loneliness, like Debussy’s “Clair de Lune.” Just as Debussy was inspired by Verlaine’s white moon, I was inspired by a pure white deer I saw one day. From the mysterious arpeggios expressing the burning dawn to the sliding glissando technique depicting the deer’s footsteps. When I finished the legato, where the notes flowed seamlessly, the pure white deer appeared before me in music.
At that moment,
“Amazing…”
I didn’t notice when she came in, but Director Im Hye-ra was staring at me with her mouth open. She quickly composed herself when she noticed my gaze. It was a sight I had never seen before, the director flustered.
“The door was open, so I came in to listen for a bit. I hope you don’t mind?” “No, it’s fine. But how was the piece?”
It wasn’t a piece I made for evaluation. Still, it was the first time I showed it to someone else. Director Im Hye-ra furrowed her brow. She herself didn’t understand what had just happened. She finally described the piece in one word.
“A dreamlike existence. I can’t quite put it into words, but it felt like the music was alive.”
I nodded briefly. That was enough.
“You’re going to bore a hole through my face.”
I was having brunch with Director Im Hye-ra. She kept looking at me with amazement, as if she hadn’t fully recovered from the performance earlier. It felt like a supporting character in a weekend drama who had just discovered the protagonist’s birth secret. As the yolk of the galette was about to show, she returned to her usual self. The richness of the yolk must have finally overcome the lingering aftertaste.
“By the way, Hyun-ah. Did you see Jeong-hoon’s interview this morning?”
Interview?
“What interview?”
Baek Jeong-hoon and I are similar in that we’ve avoided interviews until now. Well, he must have been sensitive with the recital approaching. But from what Director Im Hye-ra said, it seems he finally did an interview. Soon, Mi-hyeon noona brought in a magazine, a well-known classical music publication in Korea.
“Take a look, I was so surprised when I saw it this morning.”
What could have surprised her?
I took the magazine with Baek Jeong-hoon’s face plastered on the cover. As I read through the Q&A style interview, my eyes were drawn to the last answer. What? A teacher? What was he thinking when he answered like that? I was more dumbfounded than impressed.
“Hyun-ah, is he talking about you?”
Director Im Hye-ra looked like she had discovered another birth secret.
* * *
It had been a while since I visited my grandfather’s office. The secretary brought biscuits and orange juice. She still called me cute, which hurt my pride for some reason. I need to grow taller quickly. Even though the suit I wore for the first time in a while fit perfectly, the sleeves were a bit short. It’s frustrating, really frustrating. It seems like my body hasn’t changed a bit from my past life.
“Hyun-ah, the recital is at the Seoul Arts Center today, right?”
“Yes, Grandfather.”
I sipped the orange juice as I answered. The fact that the recital was being held at the Seoul Arts Center’s concert hall showed just how popular he was. Moreover, many social elites would be attending this time. The fact that the proceeds from the recital would be donated must have been appealing to them.
“Hyun-ah, I heard that Daesung Group is about to go bankrupt. The government is implementing a debt moratorium agreement, and everyone’s talking about it.”
“Really?”
The domino effect has begun. The government is pressuring financial institutions to create a debt moratorium agreement, but it’s like closing the barn door after the horse has bolted. Soon, the stock market will crash below 700, and foreign exchange reserves will hit rock bottom, leading to a surge in exchange rates. The next steps are clear even without looking. Grandfather seemed to expect me to say something, but I didn’t open my mouth further.
“By the way, I decided to bring one more person to the recital today.”
“One more person?”
Who could it be? My parents decided to enjoy some rare time together. They must be feeling like newlyweds again. But my uncle, who yawns at the mention of classical music, would avoid such events. Just then, there was a knock on the door.
“This old man can’t even be a decent gentleman.”
Old man?
“Son-in-law, I’m here.”
At that moment, the door opened, and Chairman Wang appeared.
*
I could feel the attention of the crowd.
Somehow, it feels like I’m enjoying more wealth and glory than in my past life. Sitting proudly between the two founders, I was about to enjoy the recital. The Seoul Arts Center concert hall had undergone significant renovations compared to two years ago. Despite being able to accommodate over 2,000 people, the poor design once earned it the nickname “the art bathhouse.” But to forget the past shame, they removed the bathhouse-like echoes and added missing facilities like the pipe organ. Even Spencer from the London Symphony would be satisfied. At that moment, Baek Jeong-hoon walked onto the stage under the spotlight. His confident stride, straight shoulders, and steady gaze reminded me of the maestro of ‘Iron Blood’ I had met in my past life. He seemed to be enjoying the endless applause. Yes, the rookie Baek Jeong-hoon I saw at the Tokyo Concert Hall was long gone.
Dum-dum-dum-dum—!
He started with Chopin’s Polonaise-Fantaisie, considered a masterpiece among polonaises. Although it’s a polonaise, it’s free from formal constraints and has a beautiful, elegant opening. It was a piece Chopin wrote with a weary heart before his final farewell. Despite his trembling fingers, the resonance expressed countless ideals. The sorrow hidden behind the brilliant tones. Chopin’s passionate heart was revived through Baek Jeong-hoon’s long fingers.
‘He’s a natural on stage.’
No wonder he won second place in the Chopin Competition. Baek Jeong-hoon on stage shone as brightly as the sun. The audience held their breath as they listened to his performance. The devil’s melody was captivating.
After the Polonaise-Fantaisie, he played Bach’s Chromatic Fantasia and Fugue, Schubert, and Mussorgsky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition,” all masterpieces. His demeanor at the piano was like that of a great actor. His long fingers and the soft light flowing down his jawline made it look like a painting.
“The next piece is ‘Iron Blood,’ which will be performed for the first time on this stage.”
The audience, who had been silent, began to murmur. As mentioned in the program, the composer was not revealed. There were rumors that it was Baek Jeong-hoon’s own composition, but in the interview, he said it was composed by his teacher, causing a stir. When Baek Jeong-hoon sat back at the piano, the audience fell silent again.
The beginning was,
Adagio sostenuto—!
A lyrical melody reminiscent of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata.” Just the first note was enough to send shivers down my spine. Of course, someone must have coached him. But why was my heart racing uncontrollably as I listened to the intense second movement and the passionate third movement?
Thud—!
The audience held their breath, feeling the thrill, but I wanted to grab my violin and rush onto the stage. Baek Jeong-hoon, as if to make me regret not collaborating with him, poured his soul into every note. It felt like he would die if this piece ended.
As the mesmerizing performance ended like the last leaf falling,
Clap-clap-clap-clap—!
Thunderous applause erupted. The audience gave a standing ovation, as if they had forgotten about an encore. Baek Jeong-hoon stood up and bowed deeply to the audience. It must have been a satisfying recital for everyone.
Then,
“To all the fans who have waited for me for so long, I sincerely hope my performance has touched you. And,”
Baek Jeong-hoon looked straight at me among the crowd.
“Lastly, I would like to express my infinite gratitude to my friend and teacher, violinist Hyun, who allowed me to play the score for ‘Iron Blood.'”
He bowed respectfully. In an instant, Grandfather and Chairman Wang turned their heads toward me. That wasn’t the end. In a flash, the entire concert hall’s attention was on me. Meanwhile, Baek Jeong-hoon was smiling at me.
Could this be the event he was talking about?