Chapter 88

088. An Artist's Inspiration (2)

"Hmmmm!"

Lee Ho-ik, after rolling the elongated cheese onto the pizza, stuffed it into his mouth in one bite.

Yang Hangil, who had been admiring this, picked out the pineapple slices from the pizza and asked,

"So, Ho-ik, have you thought about where you're going to go?"

"I don't think I'll go anywhere... to university."

"Really?"

"Well, I'm thinking about it. What about you?"

"I need to go to a department where I can prepare for a job."

"That's a very ordinary path."

"Should I call it the standard route?"

"Yeah, definitely the standard route. Compared to these guys."

Lee Ho-ik, who had been fidgeting, pointed to the two people sitting next to him with his fork.

...It was me and Chae I-yeon.

Then Yang Hangil frowned and crossed his arms, as if he had noticed something strange, and asked me,

"But why are you here?"

"Can't I be here?"

"I thought you always ran to your studio when I asked you to have a meal."

With a slightly hurt tone, I smiled and replied,

"I had an appointment with a professor, and I thought I might get hungry."

Ah. Yang Hangil chuckled and turned his gaze. His eyes stopped on Chae I-yeon, who was staring at the pizza and swallowing her saliva.

"You?"

"Huh? Me? I don't have any special plans today."

"No, I mean, why aren't you eating."

Then her expression became damp and drooped.

"...Today is a sad Thursday."

"Sad Thursday?"

Lee Ho-ik, slurping his spaghetti like noodles, casually said,

"Chae I-yeon, Wednesday is her cheat day. She's a celebrity, so she has to manage her diet. Even Sparta has a diet..."

"Okay, I get it. Eat, eat."

Yang Hangil put another slice of pizza on Lee Ho-ik's plate. It finally became quiet.

"Anyway... it's nice to be all together. Except for the food broadcast vibe."

Yang Hangil looked around and laughed awkwardly.

Not only the other tables but also the gazes coming from outside the window were varied. Some were surprised to see Han Seo-ho, and others were making a fuss over Chae I-yeon.

"Thanks to you, we got the spaghetti for free."

"I didn't know the owner was a Seo-ho fan. I thought it was weird that they were playing classical music in a pizza place."

Yang Ho-ik laughed and took a bite of the pizza with the pineapple completely removed.

Chae I-yeon, still smacking her lips and looking at the food, suddenly said,

"I think I'll go to the Department of Theater and Film."

"Usually, child actors all go there. Which university is the strongest in that field?"

"Maybe not the strongest, but the most famous is probably Korea National University of Arts."

"Isn't Korea National University of Arts also the most famous for music?"

Yang Hangil turned to me and asked.

But what can I do?

"Really?"

I don't really know.

"If it's your field, you should know."

"From Seo-ho's perspective, all universities might seem the same. There were rumors that he would go to a world-class university."

"True. So, where are you going? I've seen a lot of different stories in the news."

All three of them looked at me.

"Me...?"

#

Hooooo—.

I am currently admiring Professor Yun's unfamiliar appearance.

He is holding a violin he bought in New York, blowing on it, and wiping it.

Even while doing this, the part with Professor Sellin's signature is carefully avoided.

"That's a wax-based marker."

"Still, you never know. What if it gets erased—"

I smiled gently, and he stopped talking, still wiping the violin with his hands.

I shrugged and looked at the records on the bookshelf. Mine was there too.

"Ahem. So, you talked about university with the kids?"

"Yes."

Professor Yun subtly put down the violin.

"So, what did you say?"

"First, I'm not considering studying abroad."

"......"

Looking at Professor Yun, who was nodding silently, I asked,

"You're not surprised?"

"What? Did you think I would insist you go abroad?"

"I thought you would at least suggest I think about it."

With an honest answer, Professor Yun chuckled. Then, with a serious face, he continued,

"Actually, I've thought about it sometimes. Where you would receive the best education."

I put down the album I had been fiddling with and sat down.

"Paris Conservatoire? Juilliard? Bard? Goldsmiths? I've thought about all the places that could be called the holy land of geniuses... but I couldn't decide. I don't know if there would be a professor who could teach you there."

"Um... that's a bit embarrassing to hear."

"It's embarrassing, but it's the truth. Especially now, even more so. Who could teach a student that Maestro Albert asks to conduct? I don't know."

After a pause, Professor Yun brought up another thought.

"Does that mean you don't need to go to university? No, that's not it. A musician's inspiration is not an inexhaustible spring. Even this piece that's playing now, isn't it a scene you saw here?"

'Snow-covered Art Center' flows gently. Nodding in agreement, Professor Yun continued,

"Thinking about it, it doesn't really matter where you go. You, after all, are someone who learns on your own. What's important is what you want to express. Even being late for school could be an inspiration for you."

"Being late is a bit... maybe I should go somewhere closer?"

"Huh? Hey, that's not what I meant!"

Seeing Professor Yun's outburst, I laughed playfully.

I also knew.

That discussions about my future (?) often appeared on the internet.

Everyone was focused on whether I would go to university, and if so, where.

But I was more interested in...

What I would see and feel.

And what kind of music I would create.

My teacher in front of me seemed to feel the same way, speaking softly,

"I'm curious. What kind of music will you make as an adult?"

"Me too."

Professor Yun, who had been looking at me with hopeful eyes, suddenly checked his wrist and said to me,

"Professor Shim's lesson must be over. You should go quickly."

#

"The meeting of a rising artist and a rising musician... it sounds like an interesting project."

In another professor's office, just a 5-minute walk from Professor Yun's office.

Professor Shim, who teaches in the art department at the Arts Center, smiled at me.

"Classical music and art have always been inseparable. That's why there have been many attempts to mix the two in various exhibitions. Of course, most of them received lukewarm reviews. But this kind of collaboration... it's clear that SJ Entertainment is ambitious in the cultural and arts field."

The opportunity created by Professor Yun.

The reason I came to meet her was simple.

I'm a complete novice in art. Expressing what I see and feel in music might be easy, but this time, there were many things to consider.

"So, what are you curious about?"

In response to her question, I explained what I felt when I saw Neil Houser's works.

Seeing her interest, I asked,

If what I saw was a proper appreciation of art.

Then Professor Shim nodded with a gentle smile.

"Of course. There's no right answer to looking at art. If a thousand people see it, there are a thousand ways to see it. That's why I call exhibitions 'places to ask questions.'"

Not a place to show, not a place to confirm...

A place to ask questions.

I thought music might be similar.

Reflecting on her words, I said,

"Then, Neil Houser might have also thrown a question mark."

To the people looking at his paintings.

What does light and darkness look like to you?

...What were light and darkness to me?

If limited to the ordinary Han Seo-ho, it was a difficult question.

But if I expanded my perspective to Brunner, the answer seemed predetermined.

To me, darkness was the disease, and light was music.

But I didn't think I needed to express it like when I comforted Chairman Baek Hangil.

After all, it was Neil Houser's 'place to ask questions.'

My role was to help his questions reach the audience.

So, just as he expressed light and darkness through his paintings, I needed to do the same through music.

...As soon as I entered the recording booth, silence settled like a blank canvas.

I placed my hands on the keyboard, which could produce various colors like a palette, and slowly began to color.

With a very deep and dark tone.

With rough and textured techniques.

The sound, unlike a painting, spread like a wave, and before long, darkness seeped into the space.

In the booth, now filled with complete darkness, it was time to paint light.

I lifted my hands from the keyboard.

And.

Instead of a brush, I picked up a violin.

#

"Big sister!"

The boy, running over, hugged me around the waist.

Shin Su-ah smiled and looked down at the youngest.

Meanwhile, her younger sister, in a school uniform, came out and asked if she had eaten.

"Did you eat, big sister?"

"I did. They gave me food at the studio."

"That's good."

Smiling at her sister, who was nodding, Shin Su-ah went into her room, changed into comfortable clothes, and put her hair up in a bun before putting on her long padded jacket.

"Are you going straight to the practice room?"

"Yep. We have a recording session tomorrow."

"Again...?"

A sad tone came from below.

The youngest looked up with wide eyes.

Shin Su-ah, stroking the child's head, said,

"I'll be back soon, okay?"

The youngest's eyes turned to her older sister, and with a determined face, she shouted,

"Okay! I'll wait bravely!"

Shin Su-ah chuckled and patted her back. Promising not to be too late, she left the house.

"Be careful, big sister!"

"Come back safely, big sister!"

Waving goodbye, she walked down the alley.

Brahms' Violin Sonata was playing through the earphones in her ears.

The duet of violin and piano, fitting the name of a masterpiece, was firmly woven.

...She listened to the 4th movement of Violin Sonata No. 3, and then the 2nd movement of No. 1.

The two pieces were distinctly different in atmosphere. Especially in Brahms' works, this was a sequence that highlighted the contrast.

The Violin Sonata No. 3, a mix of light and darkness, and No. 1, which leans towards hope.

Among them, the 2nd movement was not just bright but sang of a hope that shone like an ember.

The violin placed on the thickly laid piano.

Shin Su-ah always listened to Brahms' Violin Sonatas this way.

Not in the order of composition, but in the order she decided... the order she wished for.

Because she always wanted the end to be hope.

At that moment, her phone rang.

"Hello?"

-It's me, Seo-ho.

"Uh... what's up?"

-Where are you now?

"I'm on my way to the practice room."

-Then, can I come there now?

"What? Why, why?"

-It's about work.

"It's not impossible... but..."

-Then, see you at the practice room.

...Shin Su-ah, who had hung up, looked at her phone with a blank expression.

She had somehow agreed. It was about work, and his voice sounded quite urgent. She was also curious about what it was...

At that moment.

The chaotic practice room flashed in her mind.

"Ugh...!"

Clutching her head, Shin Su-ah started running towards the practice room.