Chapter 83

083. Showcase

Hwi-go scanned the score for a long time.

Although he was aware that there were people in front of him, he couldn't take his eyes off the score.

The more he looked, the more it seemed that this wasn't just a piece that merely resembled classical music but was genuinely classical.

He couldn't help but exclaim in admiration at the piece he had to conduct, titled "Family."

At the last two vertical lines, as Hwi-go reached the period, countless exclamation marks and question marks flooded his mind.

It was almost a stroke of luck that the composer of this piece was right in front of him.

'...Did you come here yourself, knowing this would happen?'

Holding a glass of orange juice, the young man looked around the office with a curious expression, like a child.

Feeling a sense of cognitive dissonance, Hwi-go stared blankly until their eyes met.

The boy, Han Seo-ho, smiled and started the conversation as if he had been waiting for it.

"Have you finished looking at it?"

"Y-Yes, for now."

Suddenly, his expression changed.

"How was it?"

"To be honest... I was surprised. I never imagined it would be a piece like this."

Yes, he never did. How could he have imagined it?

A piece so intricately composed and filled with so many fascinating elements.

The desire to hear it immediately rose within him.

After conducting for a long time, he could usually gauge the quality of a piece just by looking at the score, but this piece was different.

He couldn't even guess what would come out when all the instruments started playing.

This piqued his curiosity as a conductor.

"...I have a lot of questions."

"Feel free to ask anything."

With a cheerful response, Hwi-go's gaze returned to the score.

"Let's start with the development section of the first movement..."

It was a strange feeling.

He had never felt this way, even when analyzing Bach's pieces, which he loved so much. After all, Bach wasn't sitting across from him then.

But with this piece, the composer was right in front of him, ready to answer any questions.

#

From the next day, the serious practice began.

After the first rehearsal, Hwi-go and his orchestra members looked dazed, which made him feel good.

Some members even came to apologize, admitting they had judged him with a biased eye. Hwi-go watched them with satisfaction from behind.

With a short preparation period, the practice sessions lasted over five hours a day. Even for just one piece, this much time was necessary, and it still felt insufficient. Since "Family" was a 40-minute piece, they could only play it seven times and give feedback in between.

The regret was brushed off along with the seats.

As soon as the practice ended, he headed to the private practice room arranged by Royal Classic. He had two more pieces to practice besides "Family."

"The Snow-Covered Art Center" and "Reflections on 88 Keys."

Holding the violin and sitting in front of the keyboard, he immersed himself in the performance.

He vividly remembered the day he first conceived the inspiration for the first piece, the day he graduated from middle school and told Professor Yun that he would stop playing the piano.

The sense of regret and anticipation he felt while walking through the snow, and Professor Yun Seo-ho's encouraging smile.

These elements combined to create a piece that, despite being about snow, felt warm.

In contrast, the second piece was different.

It was a piece more rational than emotional.

The day after the birthday party for President Baek Hangil, he received a Steinway piano as a gift from the SJ Cultural Foundation.

The moment he started playing, the inspiration hidden within the piano was discovered like a fossil.

He explored it like a geologist.

From each key, he gained countless inspirations, and the result was a combination of all these inspirations.

The two pieces were quite different, so the feelings he experienced while performing them were worlds apart.

He opened up all his senses and emotions, from the tips of his fingers to the depths of his heart, and practiced.

He continuously improved his performance by accumulating these feelings.

Although the pieces had clear limits, he pondered and pondered as a performer on how to peel away even a layer of those limits.

After a few more hours, he finally left the practice room.

On the way back to the hotel, it was snowing.

"Hello?"

- I was just about to call and check on the showcase preparations.

Hearing Professor Yun's low voice, I smiled.

"Of course, everything is going well."

- I wasn't really worried, but...

"Ha ha, how are you doing?"

- The same as always. Teach the kids when they come, and listen to music when they're not around.

I used to visit him frequently in Korea when I was busy, but now that I'm alone in the U.S., just talking on the phone made me incredibly happy.

Professor Yun had many questions for me, and he was surprisingly shocked when I mentioned meeting Professor Celine, who was usually so calm.

'He must be a big fan of Professor Celine.'

I chuckled and continued the conversation.

The snowflakes were still falling, but the weather wasn't cold enough for them to accumulate on the ground.

Unlike back then.

"By the way, Professor. When I told you I was going to quit the piano..."

- Hmm? Why did you?

"Why did you so readily agree?"

Thinking of it, I asked. Professor Yun, though surprised by the sudden question, thought for a moment and answered.

- I saw a thirst in you, a thirst I couldn't quench.

I paused at his words.

Adding my recent concerns, I asked another question.

"But... it still feels unquenched, doesn't it?"

- Is that so? That's a good thing.

"Really?"

- It seems you're still growing. You are.

Every time I realized my desire for music was growing, I worried that it might make me unhappy.

As a Brinner, I had seen many musicians who became frustrated because of their desires.

"Is that so?"

But hearing Professor Yun's words, my heart felt inexplicably at ease.

- That's right. To worry about such a thing, you were always a bundle of thirst.

"A bundle of... thirst..."

- Ha, it seems you're doing better now. I should hang up soon. I haven't read 'Classical is Dead' in a while.

"You still haven't thrown it away?"

- I thought about it, but I keep it as a humor collection. I want to read it today.

"Is that book funny?"

- It will be.

Professor Yun added firmly.

- When you appear in the world.

#

A few days later.

I headed to the PB Tower in Manhattan, New York.

The building, where various exhibitions are often held, stood modern and contemporary in the heart of the city.

Entering with Peter, a Royal Classic employee, I saw the space where I would perform.

"The chairs will be arranged here. And in the front, from this line to the very front, tables will also be set up. That's the press area. And from this line to there, the audience will fill in."

I listened to the explanation and carefully examined the showcase venue.

"So, how many people in total?"

"The audience will be 300, and with the journalists, it will be about 350."

Approaching the stage and looking back, I saw the wide, dark space.

Although it's just one piece, my 'album' will be introduced here.

And the next day, all the tracks on the album will be released to the world via the internet.

My heart, which had been beating faster since I entered, was now pounding.

Is it because the stage is still unfamiliar?

No, that's not it.

The stage was so familiar that the musician I met in my past life, who was the most suited to the name 'stage,' always felt excited standing here, especially for premieres.

On the dark stage, I thought of him.

I was surprised to realize that I now understood him.

'I always thought I would never understand your feelings...'

Niccolò Paganini, who loved music so much that he had to dramatically package himself each time.

'I can't pretend to have made a pact with the devil like you. That would be called 'middle school syndrome' these days.'

I chuckled, teasing my friend who might be listening from somewhere.

'But for my pieces, I'll try to cause a small stir.'

Suppressing my smile, I took another look at the showcase venue.

'Right here.'

#

"Wow, how long have these people been waiting in line?"

"Apparently, some have been here for four hours."

"Ha, it's not like they're waiting for a limited edition sneaker launch..."

"Only 300 people can enter, so it is limited."

"Are all these people here to see Han Seo-ho?"

"I should go to the press area and write an article before it starts."

Journalists with messenger bags on their shoulders entered the building, looking at the people surrounding the PB Tower.

Among them were not only American media but also journalists from classical music magazines with branches in the U.S.

"The opening performance probably won't be from the album. I wonder what piece he'll play?"

A journalist who quickly wrote an article from the press area looked at the simply decorated stage and spoke.

Another journalist, running his fingers through his blonde hair, chuckled.

"Of course, it must be Tchaikovsky. After all, he's practically a Tchaikovsky specialist. That's his only background."

Agreeing with a laugh, the other journalists nodded.

Meanwhile, the audience filled the empty seats one by one. With only about 300 seats, it didn't take long.

"It's about to start, right?"

A journalist checking the questions prepared for the Q&A session in the middle said.

Soon, without any formal introduction, Han Seo-ho walked onto the stage.

The audience erupted into applause as if they had been waiting for this moment.

However, since photography was not allowed except during the Q&A, the journalists put down their cameras and started typing.

The sound of rapid typing filled the showcase venue.

As if the sound of rain, Han Seo-ho, after a light greeting, placed the violin on his shoulder.

And.

The bow touched the strings.

-!

The performance started without a word.

The beautiful melody produced by the Guarneri left everyone in awe.

"Hey, this piece..."

Doubt spread among the journalists.

They couldn't be unaware. Whether it was classical or not, Brinner's pieces were a significant topic in the classical world.

Whispers spread in the press area.

"Isn't this 'The Snow-Covered Art Center'? At a showcase? This is too suspicious."

"Maybe he's trying to capitalize on the recent buzz. He's been in the news a lot lately."

"Shh, be quiet."

The room fell silent again. Of course, the fingers became even busier. Articles were being written at a speed that seemed to make the keys fly. The news was spreading in real-time, worldwide.

The audience was no different. Those who knew about Brinner watched the performance with expressions similar to the journalists.

As the performance began to draw its melody, the initial confusion faded. The doubtful expressions turned to small exclamations, which then turned to amazement.

The amazement grew like a snowball.

Finally, when the snow covering the art center melted and Han Seo-ho put down the Guarneri from his shoulder, the audience applauded even louder than when he first appeared.

The journalists exchanged glances, amazed.

"Phew, the performance itself was really amazing. I got goosebumps several times."

"He's a prize winner in international competitions, so it's expected. But, I wonder if it was a good choice."

"I also think he might be too focused on the hype. He's already being criticized for being a young performer who thinks he can compose. It might have been better to show a more traditional and solid side with classical pieces."

At that moment, Han Seo-ho carefully placed the Guarneri in the case on the piano.

Then, he sat down to prepare for the next piece.

"This time, it's the piano, I guess."

"That's really amazing. I've never seen someone alternate between two instruments at a classical showcase."

Soon, everyone held their breath.

In the silence, Han Seo-ho's right hand began to persistently strike a single note on the keyboard.

Again, it was a piece by Brinner.

"Again? This is a bit much..."

A journalist who had been typing instinctively paused.

[He's performing as if it's his own piece-]

"No way..."

Lifting his gaze from the laptop screen,

Han Seo-ho, who was playing the keys with such skill that it was hard to believe he had just played the violin, caught his eye.

No way.