Chapter 82

082. The Unchanging, Classic (3)

Emma waited for her team members with a complicated expression.

Only after Olivia, who had driven Han Seoho to the hotel, arrived at the meeting room did all the team members gather, and the second meeting finally began.

"How was the meeting with Han Seoho?"

It was Olivia's question.

Emma looked down at her notebook, filled with various notes, and replied.

"Well, I was surprised, delighted, and also a bit perplexed. As expected, he was unique, but even more so than I anticipated."

Her words piqued the curiosity of her team members.

"What was he like exactly?"

In response to a team member's question, Emma paused to think. Many impressions came to mind.

"He had a composure that didn't match his age, but when it came to music, he seemed more childlike than anyone I've ever met. Yet, the things he said offhandedly were... profound."

As she spoke, the musicians she had met before flashed through her mind. In the classical world, they were renowned figures, often called masters.

But Han Seoho, much younger than them,

and who had only recently started gaining recognition,

"His depth was extraordinary."

This was a sufficient impression to convey.

Among the team members, Olivia, who had spent the most time with Han Seoho, nodded with a small smile. The other team members, however, looked as if they were listening to a story from another world.

At that moment, Peter, who was in charge of the showcase venue, asked,

"How is the showcase lineup set?"

"It's as we originally planned. We'll start with the opening performance, take questions from the press, and then premiere a title track."

"The title track must be 'Family,' right?"

Emma nodded in agreement with Olivia, who had already heard Han Seoho's music.

"Yes, that's the one he mentioned."

"Ah, didn't Olivia almost cry while listening?"

"Didn't you cry?"

In response to the team members' questions, Olivia laughed awkwardly.

"It was a violin solo."

"Oh, that's right. But if it made a critic cry, what kind of piece is it?"

"The piece was incredibly moving... 'Family' was extraordinary in a different way. It made you feel good and emotional after listening."

Such abstract descriptions were more effective than talking about the main theme or development section.

With the team members already brimming with anticipation, hearing such impressions only made them more curious.

Another question was thrown in among the eager expressions.

"So, what opening piece did you decide on?"

The team members' gazes returned to Emma.

She was still smiling faintly, but it was a peculiar expression that made it hard to tell if it was good or bad.

"He wants to perform solo pieces."

"Solo pieces?"

"Yes. For the premiere, he wants to perform with the orchestra, but instead of staging the first three pieces on a grand scale, he suggested alternating between piano and violin solos."

"That makes sense. It would certainly give more weight to the premiere."

"How about Paganini's Caprices and Liszt's pieces based on Paganini? They could really captivate the audience before the premiere."

While the suggestions from both sides seemed reasonable, Emma shook her head.

"He's already chosen the pieces he wants to perform."

"What pieces?"

"Reflections on 88 Keys. And Snow-Covered Art Hall."

The moment Emma mentioned the two pieces,

The team members looked as if their faces had frozen. Murmurs of "Where have I heard these before?" filled the room.

"Wait! Those pieces...?"

"Brinner! They're Brinner's pieces."

"Brinner, as in SoundCloud Brinner?"

"Yes."

At Emma's answer, the team members all began to express their shock.

"Haha... It will definitely be a hot topic."

"But we'll also get a lot of criticism. People already have a negative view, and they'll criticize us for not performing traditional classical music."

"Albert praised Brinner's pieces, so I doubt that will happen."

"People will criticize even if Bach rose from the grave and approved."

Watching the various reactions, Emma asked a question that would require a lot of discussion.

"So, what do you all think we should do?"

#

...After arriving at the hotel, I had dinner with my mom.

As soon as I got back to my room, my dad called with a lot of good news.

First, the movie 'Soprano' surpassed 5 million viewers, and at this rate, it might become the first Korean music movie to reach 10 million. Thanks to this, the OST I created is ranking high on various music sites, and despite my busy schedule with the album, many film companies are contacting me, eager to get in line.

One director even said he would delay the shooting schedule.

-How's the showcase preparation going?

"Yes, we had a meeting today, and we'll probably start practicing soon."

-That's good. Prepare well and see you on the day. Oh, by the way, Chairman Baek will also be attending the showcase.

"Yes, I heard from Manager Park, but I'm not sure if it's okay."

Of course, if he can't come, it won't be good, as Manager Park mentioned, but I can't help but worry.

-By the way, I had a meeting with SJ Entertainment today, and it seems that Vice President Baek Sun-hwa will also be attending.

"Vice President Baek Sun-hwa too?"

-Yes, she happens to be in New York for business.

Since I wasn't particularly interested in that, I just nodded.

Dad said he would work hard and needed to call Mom, so he ended the call.

Mom, who had been bored in the hotel all day, entered the room with her phone, looking excited.

I stayed in the hotel living room alone, smiling faintly.

It feels good.

Everything seems perfect.

It's as if there's nothing more to ask for.

The family is harmonious.

My health is fine.

I'm making music.

Just like I wished before I nearly died.

But it's strange.

The thirst that tickles my chest instead of my throat hasn't gone away.

"..."

I reached out and picked up my phone again.

SoundCloud, where I had started using the name Brinner again.

Each of my tracks had views ranging from tens of thousands to millions, and the comments and messages directed at Brinner had reached a level I couldn't handle.

It's like throwing dynamite onto a fire that was already burning fiercely.

It seems that mentions from famous people like Albert August of the New York Philharmonic had a significant impact.

Honestly, at first, it was surprising, and then it was exciting.

But now, I'm caught in a strange feeling.

The thirst hasn't gone away. It's still there, and it might even be getting worse.

I thought making music would make me happy.

...But I keep getting greedy.

#

"Is the practice with Han Seoho tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to it."

"I'm looking forward to the performance, but not so much the pieces."

"Why?"

"I have a feeling he'll have made something like New Age or film music."

"That's possible. I heard he's done a few film scores in his home country."

"But 'Streets of Moscow' was really good, right?"

"One good piece isn't enough to believe. It was also a short solo piece."

"True, it might be a bit of a stretch to promote it as a classical album... Oh, you're here early?"

The musicians heading to the practice room greeted their conductor, who was crossing the street.

Hugo, the music director of a small chamber orchestra, nodded lightly and entered the building.

"Be ready, I'll be there soon."

"Yes!"

After parting ways with the musicians heading to the practice room, Hugo walked to his office.

"He should be here by now..."

Muttering to himself, Hugo turned the corner. He quickened his pace, knowing that Royal Classic would send the scores. His office came into view, and a man standing in front of it caught his eye.

"Are you from Royal Classic?"

"Yes."

"·...?"

Hugo's steps faltered as he approached.

The man from Royal Classic was holding a thick envelope and had a youthful, almost boyish face, and he was Asian. Moreover, he looked familiar.

"Is that right?"

"Yes?"

"That, Han Seoho...?"

"Oh, yes. Hello, I'm Han Seoho."

"Really, it's you... I know, I recognize you. But, I heard you were supposed to send the scores..."

Han Seoho lifted the envelope he was holding.

The scores had arrived.

"I also wanted to explain some things and thought you might have questions."

With the owner of the scores.

#

"Let's take a short break and then continue."

Meanwhile, in the David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center, where grandeur overshadowed the splendor.

As the elderly man declared, the over a hundred members of the orchestra collapsed like leaves in the wind.

Regardless, the old man strode confidently toward his office. Despite his age, his steps were strong, and his eyes sparkled even after a five-hour rehearsal.

Albert August.

The towering figure of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra entered his office.

He sat down and placed the baton he was holding on the desk.

Thud!

Unlike a typical baton, a dull sound echoed through the office.

This was one of the reasons he was a towering figure in the New York Philharmonic.

Not only had he been the orchestra's leader for a long time, but he also used a baton he had carved himself, which was rare.

Albert's eyes relaxed slightly as he put down his unique weapon. The fatigue began to show on his face.

"I used to conduct for 10 hours without a break."

The cruelty of time flashed through his mind. Disliking his own lament, he stood up and sat at the grand piano in the corner of the office.

There was no specific score. He simply played the melody that came to mind. It was a familiar piece he had been listening to quite often lately.

'Reflections on 88 Keys.'

The melody, as the title suggested, conveyed a near-obsessive exploration of each key.

...In fact, he was more exhausted than anyone else.

Because of his lifelong dedication to classical music.

Classical music is said to be valuable because it doesn't change. But because it doesn't change, there can be no newness, and that is a huge barrier for performers.

Looking at the silent scores, trying to read the intentions of the masters who had compressed countless thoughts into a few notes and symbols.

Even then, it's impossible to pinpoint what the right answer is.

Always, the most plausible performance is all that can be achieved.

The composers are long buried in the ground.

'Can I truly make even one piece my own before I die?'

As this question dominated his mind as a conductor, Albert heard Brinner's pieces.

The pieces that seemed like a pile of weeds were, each one, shocking.

While they weren't without flaws, they showed potential.

If he grew more,

And created even better melodies and compositions,

He might be able to stand shoulder to shoulder with the greats of classical music.

'And then...'

Having finished his thoughts, Albert picked up his baton.

...The break was over.