Chapter 65

065. Learning from it

After the 'Royal Classic' representative left, Professor Celine poured another cup of tea. It wasn't for herself, but for Professor Kirk, who had come to her office upon receiving a call. The two sat in the office and naturally began to appreciate a piece composed by the composer known as 'Brenner'. It was a 30-minute piano piece. However, the length seemed insignificant as time flew by. When the expansive performance, which seemed to use all 88 keys as the title suggested, ended, Professor Kirk was the first to move his head. He lowered his gaze and brought the teacup to his lips. The tea, which had been steaming, had already cooled, and this was his first sip.

"Would you like me to warm it up for you?"

"No, it's fine. I was feeling a bit thirsty, so this is perfect."

Professor Kirk poured the lukewarm tea into his mouth in one go and chuckled. Then he asked Professor Celine:

"What did you think?"

"The melody is seductive, yet it's persistently educational, more than just a piece of music."

Professor Kirk nodded vigorously and, looking at Professor Celine as if asking for her thoughts, added with a smile:

"Perhaps I'm a bit elated from listening to such a good piece. I think this is a very... piano-centric piece."

"A piano-centric piece. I understand what you mean. It gives the impression of delving deeply into each key, as the title suggests."

In fact, sound is ultimately just a frequency when approached scientifically. However, this piece seemed to refute that, showing that it was more than just that. It revealed the history of a single note, exploring how it was used in various pieces and defining each note in that way. It was almost like...

a tribute to the keys.

Professor Celine had to admit:

"It's a remarkable piece in many ways."

She realized that the composer's approach to interpreting the piece had evolved during the period when no new music had been released.

At that moment, Professor Kirk's phone rang. He politely excused himself and answered the call.

"Hey, Becky. I was just listening to it. It's good. Not just good to listen to... No, I think we should talk about it in person. Yeah, we should probably all meet up tonight. See you later."

After ending the call, he apologized to Professor Celine again. She showed interest.

"What was that call about?"

"A friend. I often meet with friends to talk about music all night. I learned about this composer from you and told them. Since then, we've been going through all of his pieces. When a new piece was uploaded today, they called me in a hurry."

"New pieces in classical music aren't that common, so it must have been a welcome surprise."

Professor Celine smiled, and Professor Kirk smiled back. Then, he relaxed his expression and asked:

"By the way, Professor. You mentioned at the school concert hall... that you had an idea about the identity of the composer 'Brenner'?"

"Yes, I did."

"You said you would tell me if you were certain. Are you still not sure?"

Professor Celine nodded.

"Not yet. But..."

Her eyes sparkled.

She had asked the record label 'Royal Classic' to inform her if Han Seoho entered the U.S. for album distribution.

So,

"Before long. I think we'll be able to confirm it."

#

"Oh, Professor Yun!"

At the Arts Center.

Professor Seo Mi-ock, who teaches violin, recognized Professor Yun as she entered the cafe. A few other professors were gathered around her, chatting, including some who, like herself, teach piano. As the agreed time approached, Professor Yun, who had intended to take out a coffee, had no choice but to approach them and greet them.

"Hello."

"Hello! Are you here for coffee?"

"Ah, yes. Well..."

She nodded and scanned the faces of the other professors. Then she met a slightly uncomfortable gaze.

A few years ago.

A professor who had mocked Han Seoho, believing he lacked the talent to participate in competitions. Recalling this, her judgment was a bit skewed.

'He seems to be avoiding me lately...'

She felt a bit mischievous.

"I'll sit for a moment until my coffee comes."

She glanced at her wristwatch and plopped into an empty seat. The professor who had been avoiding her gaze cleared his throat.

"Well, we were just talking about your student."

"Seoho, I assume."

Professor Yun spoke softly, and Professor Seo smiled and sipped her coffee.

"I thought he had stage fright because he had the talent but didn't participate in competitions."

She introduced a new topic, and Professor Yun chuckled.

It wasn't stage fright...

It was disappointment. She had looked at the rigged game with disdain.

At that moment, the professor who had been looking uncomfortable managed to say:

"Anyway, parents will be looking for you a lot. After all, you've produced a Tchaikovsky Competition winner."

The intention behind adding, "Maybe you'll quit the Arts Center?" was not very good.

It was a roundabout way of saying that wealthy families would bring money to hire her.

Well, such offers weren't entirely absent.

No, there were quite a few...

But Professor Yun naturally refused. It didn't align with her educational philosophy, and, strictly speaking, she hadn't made Han Seoho what he was.

So, she firmly said:

"I had nothing more to teach him after four years. The idea that I 'produced' him is absurd. He grew on his own."

Seeing the surprised expressions of the professors, she added:

"He knew exactly what he needed to do and where he needed to go."

Even as she spoke, Professor Yun marveled.

He really was such a person.

A child who couldn't be easily judged.

A child who knew exactly where to go, as if he had already walked the path...

"Professor?"

At that moment, she heard his voice from beside her.

Han Seoho entered the cafe and blinked, looking at her.

"Ah..."

The professors, surprised by the sudden appearance of the topic, and Han Seoho, who politely greeted them.

Professor Yun stood up and said:

"I'll get up now."

She then handed one of the two cups of coffee that had just arrived to Han Seoho.

"Let's go."

The two left the cafe side by side.

Professor Seo, watching their backs, picked up her phone and fiddled with it.

"Looks good. Maybe I should contact my students too. What's Sua up to these days..."

The other professors' gazes were filled with envy.

#

"…How was it?"

Professor Yun, entering her office, asked Han Seoho point-blank.

But unlike others, her focus wasn't on his Tchaikovsky Competition victory.

To her, the news of his victory wasn't particularly surprising. From the moment he decided to participate in the competition, his victory was almost a given.

Of course, she hadn't expected him to also win second place in the violin category.

Han Seoho immediately understood what she was asking.

After all, this was the third time he had been asked this question in such a situation.

The first two times were when she visited the competition, and this was the third.

Han Seoho smiled.

"It was enjoyable. Very much so."

Professor Yun knew how much joy he found in music, beyond just the fun, including learning and growth.

A smile appeared on her face.

"Congratulations."

Her congratulations weren't for the victory.

She was simply supporting her student's joy.

"So, what have you been doing since you returned to Korea?"

"I've been going to school and continuing the work on the movie soundtrack."

At the mention of the soundtrack, Professor Yun's eyes lit up.

She took a sip of coffee and said casually:

"Do you have anything finished?"

"It's still in the arrangement stage, a piano and violin duet."

"Then you probably don't have it with you?"

"But I do."

He chuckled and pulled out a USB.

Professor Yun's expression brightened.

"Well, let's listen to it then."

...

"Classical masterpieces reveal their depth the more you listen to them, but sometimes you just want to hear something fresh and new..."

The surprise faded, and Professor Yun, with a satisfied expression, launched into a lengthy introduction.

Then she evaluated:

"It was all good. I could feel that it was more stable than when you played 'The Boy Who Became a Wolf.' I'm looking forward to how it will develop with other instruments... Is this the entire piece?"

"No, there's one more. But it's a choral piece..."

"A choral piece?"

Professor Yun looked at him with surprise.

"It's a challenging field. But it's also one of the few areas in modern classical music that hasn't been overly distorted."

Professor Yun is not a fan of modern music.

More accurately, she dislikes complex modern music.

She even describes it as musicians trying to be philosophers and teaching the audience.

"Amid the proliferation of complex modern music, choral pieces, which are limited by the human voice, maintain the legacy of the past."

She asked him:

"What is the form of the piece?"

"It's similar to the fourth movement of Beethoven's Choral Symphony. Crescendo and climax. Simple but..."

"There's nothing more certain than that."

He nodded.

At such moments, when our minds align, I often feel a sense of the past.

For a moment, I saw a glimpse of Haydn in Professor Yun.

They shared a common point as the first to teach me 'music theory.'

If Professor Yun knew this, she would be shocked, but...

She continued:

"And the simpler it is, the more difficult it is to make it precise."

"I agree. I haven't started yet, but it will be a challenging task."

She pondered.

Thinking of Ludwig, who composed one of the most famous choral pieces in history, the 'Choral Symphony.'

"Isn't that impressive?"

"Beethoven? An incredible musician."

"How could he complete such a masterpiece when he couldn't hear?"

"It must have required a deep understanding of each key. If one can reach the level of mentally performing a piece as if it were a real performance... then it might be possible. Of course, this is from a logical standpoint. I can't take it seriously because I can't even attempt it."

Professor Yun hypothesized.

And as her words overlapped, past memories deepened.

"..."

After recalling the memory for a moment, I made a decision.

That attempt.

I will try it.

#

Perhaps because there were many stories I had been saving for over two months.

The conversation with Professor Yun continued, one leading to another.

If a student hadn't come for a lesson in the afternoon, we would have kept talking until the sun set.

"Hey! Maybe..."

At the door, she met a middle school student and offered a word of encouragement, receiving a grateful look.

When I was Brenner, I never imagined I would receive such a look.

It was the same look I gave to the musicians I admired so much.

In this life, there were many things I didn't expect.

For example, the sensation of pushing off the ground.

The feeling of writing freely on paper, like sliding.

Sensations I could never experience and could only imagine through sound, I now feel naturally.

...Feeling this renewed sense, I arrived at the studio,

and, contrary to the emotions I had on the way, I limited myself again.

"..."

I sat in front of the keys but didn't press them.

I clutched a pen and stared only at the sheet music.

Of course, this was a method I often used at school.

But this time, the difficulty was different.

Not just creating a piano or violin piece.

A work that combines an orchestra and the voices of people.

I was attempting this difficult method not just to imitate Ludwig.

It was because the conversation with Professor Yun reminded me of the story I shared with Ludwig.

The day I met him at the Breuning family's social gathering.

By then, Ludwig already knew he had a hearing problem.

He didn't explicitly tell me, but thinking back, there were many hints.

And he was preparing for it.

This was one of those preparations.

'Turning one's own senses into an instrument.'

So, I didn't press the keys to check the sound.

I let the musical ideas flow freely.

Then, the musical ideas began to form in my mind at a speed that my fingers could never match.

And.

The sensation I had while writing 'Reflections on 88 Keys' and delving deeply into each key.

Began to ring clearly in my ears.

'So this is it!'

I realized.

At that moment, Ludwig.

Became a true teacher (先生).