For The Musical Genius (Novel) - Chapter 94

Chapter 94

Read it only at Utoon.net!
Discord         

A French poet once said that the dawn in Venice is a jewel that cannot be exchanged for anything. When a reddish light pierces through the twilight and warms the water’s surface, one’s eyes are naturally enchanted. The spire of the Salute Cathedral glowed, and it seemed as if the gondolier’s aria was brushing against my ears. Sitting by the wide window and gazing at this scene made me want to naturally pick up my violin. Surely, Paganini must have felt the same way when he visited the city of water hundreds of years ago.

“Hyun, breakfast is ready.”

Though we could have used a hotel, Director Im Hye-ra insisted on renting a villa. Befitting a nobles’ retreat, the villa adjoining the canal exuded a rich classical flavor. With a towel around my neck, I went downstairs where a savory aroma tickled my nose. Director Im Hye-ra’s secretary was already bustling about. One might wonder what someone with such high education was doing, but it was simply the consequence of having the wrong boss.

“What is all this?”

“Ah, since Min-hee will be joining us, I made plenty. Hyun, you’re going to the set starting today, and I can’t send you off with just bread at your growing age. Your aunt showed off her skills a bit. You know, I once considered studying culinary arts abroad rather than fine arts.”

From kimchi stew to a full array of Korean dishes. The lavish spread rivaled a traditional nine-course meal; anyone who saw it would think we were in a South Jeolla Province restaurant. At that moment, Director Im Hye-ra smiled triumphantly and said, “After all, a mother-in-law’s love is for her son-in-law.”

I pretended not to hear and took my seat. I had been craving Korean food, and thanks to the director, I could enjoy it in a foreign country. With this level of culinary skill, her claim about considering culinary studies abroad was likely true. As my rice bowl was quickly emptied-

“Hyun, do you remember that girl from the mask festival the other day? The one who played the piano?”

“Well, it was so chaotic that I don’t remember clearly.”

“The child who played the piano performed so brilliantly that a professor from the Verdi Conservatory who was at the cathedral that day went directly to find her.”

I nearly choked on my water.

“And then?”

“Well, it turns out the child eventually said she didn’t perform herself. Apparently, a stranger came, took her mask and black cape, and performed in her place. She was too nervous, she said. In the confusion, she couldn’t even remember the face. Who could that pianist be who played ‘La Campanella’?”

That was fortunate, at least. It had been an impulsive act. Since she said she couldn’t remember the face, they wouldn’t be able to find me. Just then, Director Im Hye-ra looked at me with a curious gaze.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

A bead of sweat trickled down my back.

*

Venice means “come endlessly” in Latin. True to its etymology, the city of water is overflowing with tourists year-round, and now was no exception. People were packed around the filming location. If we had been shooting outdoors rather than indoors, it would have been disruptive. Young female students in particular were lined up, probably because of the handsome Hollywood actor Alessandro.

“Alessandro, after filming, you should take pictures with those girls waiting outside. The assistant director told me they’ve been waiting since morning.”

It was actress Martina. She seemed secretly envious of Alessandro. Of course, having fans who adore you is a great comfort to actors. It’s not unlike how musicians need an audience.

“Mr. Alessandro, how much violin practice have you been doing?”

I couldn’t help but be surprised when I saw Alessandro’s fingertips-they were covered in calluses after just a few days. The same was true for his right hand that held the bow. He had clearly been practicing day and night. Noticing my reaction, Alessandro smugly rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Normally, I would have read the script until it was worn out, but since I’m playing Paganini this time, I need to practice the violin until it’s worn out. Especially with such an outstanding teacher, I can’t slack off.”

“Then, would you like to try your posture?”

It felt awkward for me to musically evaluate someone, but Alessandro would certainly have become a renowned musician like Baek Jung-hoon if not for his chronic condition. It was evident that he was striving to make the posture I taught him his own as quickly as possible.

“For this shoot, we’ll be performing Paganini’s Violin Concerto No. 1.”

I could see Alessandro’s Adam’s apple bob. Having majored in violin, he knew how significant it was to perform with an orchestra. Moreover, it was Concerto No. 1, considered the crown jewel of Paganini’s legacy. With its display of brilliant techniques, continuous arpeggios, spiccato, and double stops, it truly represented the pinnacle of technical prowess. No wonder the Belgian violinist Henri Vieuxtemps became Paganini’s fervent follower after just one performance.

“Wearing a mask will feel different from usual. If I were Paganini, I would have ignored the conductor’s signal. Just go with what your heart tells you. It’s fine if the concertmaster and conductor are flustered. After all, Paganini’s performance was literally the beginning of a legend.”

Niccolò Paganini’s emergence was an event that changed the paradigm of the music world that had continued for hundreds of years. His appearance would have made countless audiences cheer and many musicians despair. Just then-

Wow-! Through the door that was slightly ajar, female students were cheering. Was it my imagination that Alessandro gripped his violin more tightly and put on a serious expression?

Zing.

It was Paganini’s performance at a masquerade ball. Alessandro’s bowing was so fierce that the red feather on his mask fluttered, inspiring awe.

‘Impressive.’

What incredible determination, even more remarkable than mine, who was called stubborn in my past life. Surely, Alessandro’s heart still held a deep love for the violin. Seeing him drenched in sweat, I stood up. It was now my turn to perform.

“Hyun-!”

As I was leaving after finishing all the filming, the female students who had been waiting outside suddenly called my name. Alessandro, who had been about to take pictures with them, looked at me in bewilderment.

“Are you calling me?”

I was equally bewildered. The female students nodded in unison and rushed toward me.

“We are undergraduate students from the Verdi Conservatory. We heard that violinist Hyun was coming to Venice and came to take pictures. We’ve been ardent fans since Brussels. We even brought your ‘Beautiful Life’ album! Could we ask for your autograph?”

Who would have thought I’d have fans waiting for me in a foreign country? Especially when I had barely been active as a violinist. My face flushed, and my lips felt parched. Just then, Alessandro gently pushed my back.

“Hyun, at times like this, taking pictures with fans creates lasting memories.”

Alessandro was already posing like a photographer with a film camera.

* * *

“You really don’t remember?”

The voice was filled with desperation.

“I really don’t know.”

“No, Serena. Think slowly. You might suddenly remember the face.”

When the girl finally shook her head, the old professor ran his hands over his face. Clear regret remained in the wrinkles around his eyes. The “La Campanella” he had heard that day at St. Mark’s Cathedral had reawakened his aged heart. The delicate and dramatic performance was enough to make one doubt their eyes and ears.

‘Virtuoso.’

It wasn’t a conventional performance. Like Liszt, who had resolved to emulate Paganini, the performer played with variations rather than precise tempo. Especially the waves of emotion transmitted from the fingertips were so moving that tears nearly spilled.

“Serena, please tell me more about the situation.”

“He, he appeared when I was crying. Like magic.”

“Hmm.”

The old professor let out a shallow sigh. Judging by the size, the performer was certainly not an adult. Yet they had completed Liszt’s “La Campanella” in front of so many people. Despite choosing a difficult piece, they displayed confidence and charisma that captivated the audience. The scene of the noisy crowd becoming a single audience in an instant was like a scene from a movie.

“Was it perhaps a woman?”

Indeed, with such technique and boldness, a female pianist came to mind rather than a boy. But the girl firmly shook her head.

“Serena, think slowly. Is there nothing else you remember? About the face of the person wearing the mask with the red feather that day.”

The old professor wanted to meet that pianist again. It felt as if they had reignited the wick of his dried-up spirit as a pianist. Just then, the girl who had been furrowing her brow suddenly raised her head.

“Ah, yes.”

“Yes! What do you remember?”

It was a man wearing a mask with a red feather, playing the piano. His fluttering black cape felt like the black keys of the piano, and his slightly smiling lips shone like the white keys. What memory had that day’s “La Campanella” left with the girl?

“It was very deep and clear.”

His gaze.

*

“An invitation from the Mayor of Venice?”

Of course, it was a film about the life of Niccolò Paganini, the renowned Italian musician. Moreover, they were filming in Venice. It was clear that today’s filming would enhance the city’s reputation as a tourist destination. Thanks to that, they had been invited to a banquet hosted by the mayor himself.

‘I suppose they really only need Alessandro and Martina.’

Regardless of nationality, politicians loved taking pictures. Especially since the two were famous Hollywood actors. I felt somewhat like a mere accessory, but it didn’t matter. I would have preferred if it were more crowded. Then I could have sneaked a sip of champagne when the opportunity arose.

“Welcome, I am Salvatore Casani, the Mayor of Venice. It is an honor to have the Paganini film crew at our banquet. From ancient times, Venice has generously shared its water with distinguished guests. This time it’s not water but wine and food, but I hope you enjoy the banquet I’ve prepared.”

Despite its reputation as the city of water, Venice was historically a place where drinking water was hard to come by. They even used filtered rainwater, so drinking water was incredibly precious. Therefore, sharing purified water itself was a meaningful gesture. Just then-

Huh?

My eyes met with those of a girl standing next to the mayor.

“Ah, this is my daughter, Serena. Greet the director and the actors, Serena.”

The girl bowed with surprised eyes, glancing at me repeatedly. She seemed uncertain. I casually turned my head as if nothing had happened. It was obvious that revealing myself as the one who played the piano at St. Mark’s Cathedral would only lead to complications.

“Serena, I think you’re mistaken. That person is a violinist.”

I clearly heard the girl conversing with an elderly gentleman. The old man, who was said to be a professor at the Verdi Conservatory, recognized my face and shook his head sadly.

“You must have confused him with the man you saw that day because violinist Hyun is of similar height. It’s difficult to grow into such an outstanding musician by focusing on just one instrument. Unless one is Mozart, that is. Instead, stay calm and try to recall your memory a bit more.”

Was it because my ears had become sharper from playing music? Or was it because the old man’s voice was a clear bass? I had inadvertently overheard, but I had no choice but to continue pretending not to know. However, I could feel Serena occasionally looking at me, unable to let go of her suspicion. In any case-

‘Tsk.’

How could I secretly sip champagne with someone watching me like this? I had to content myself with white milk instead. At that moment, along with the aria of a gondolier, the scene of the canal at sunset was captured in my eyes. With the truth hidden behind a mask, the night in Venice grew deeper.