God of Piano - God of Piano chapter 87

“······oh?”

And they couldn’t help but be surprised. I already knew that each and every one of the people who came here were only those with a high level of skill, but even taking that into account, the melodies coming from the Jung-gu heating room in the practice room were very pretty and nice to hear.

‘I really think it would be much better if I just listened to that performance on stage…’

But for now, it was time to focus on his performance. Rowoon went into the practice room and locked the door. Although there were Steinway pianos, there were only about fifteen or so acoustic pianos. I didn’t know if a little more people would have to play the digital piano instead of the piano.

‘It’s been a week…’

No matter how short a song is, it’s not that long to prepare a song completely. Right now, it took Rowoon a few months just to prepare the puppy waltz that lasted about 2 minutes before.

However, Rowoon now is different from Rowoon in the past. He has been given numerous blessings, and has developed the skills to utilize them.

Rowoon opened the sheet music and immediately put his fingers on the keyboard. It would be common to practice one hand at a time, but I wanted to complete the race right away at first.

Rowoon wasn’t originally good at seeing things. It takes some time to properly play a song you’ve never seen before, but from a certain point on, it can be seen as a slow starter that grows explosively through the power of the Walkman.

But now?

‘······you can do it.’

Rowoon’s fingers moved busily. While following all of Mozart’s large and small instructions, including not only notes, but also crescendo, decrescendo, and forte, those fingers never stopped for a second.

eye of music. six fingers. Mirage Rubato. swamp of sound. All of that was helping him.

In short, Rowoon meant that he could now hit any sheet music the moment he saw it for the first time.

＜ Overcoming the Beginning (2) ＞ End

＜ Overcoming the baseline (3) ＞

Incredible superpowers. No, it’s not about reading sheet music and cutting it out. Rowoon’s fingers were guided by Mozart’s Turkish March, which was groped by the musician who had already surpassed the limits of the criminal, stored in his head.

‘Come here.’

‘Faster!’

‘More tender…’

‘Like chewing notes one by one,’

‘Nevertheless, the melodies are as if they were united as one.’

Even without resorting to the private tutoring function, Rowoon could hear Mozart’s voice hidden in every corner of his songs. Mozart’s song was talking to the runner in a very clear voice. Why this song is beautiful, how your fingers should move, and what kind of heart you should play.

‘Mozart, you certainly can’t hate…’

The more he played, the more Rowoon could not help but realize the value of Mozart.

His songs are different. No other musician had that feeling characteristic of Mozart. It feels like every note is alive and moving. It wasn’t simply a matter of moderating pedaling.

Staccato, decrescendo, forte, all of those little instructions made up for the rareness of pedaling.

Should I say that it is calculated? No, if you didn’t know Mozart, that expression would have been possible. But as someone who knew Mozart, as someone who had looked into his composing journal and personally felt what was going on inside Mozart’s head, Rowoon couldn’t agree with that opinion.

Mozart simply transferred the music flowing in his head to the music sheet. There were no calculations in it. There is only intuition.

Feeling a new sense of wonder, Rowoon finished the performance. Until he struck out the last bar, Rowoon’s fingers did not stop even though he occasionally tripped the keys.

For a first-time dog, it was quite, no, quite a pretty good performance. So it was. Rowoon took out his Walkman right away, and then tuned in to Mozart.

And Mozart said.

[Hmm… you know that the performance was lacking, right? ]

“Ah yes. I know.”

[I have nothing to point out. Right now, it’s more important to faithfully follow all my instructions written on the sheet music. The advice is next. For now, just focus on the song. Listen to the story the notes tell. Let’s start the lesson then. ]

“yes. thank you.”

Mozart was in many ways a flirtatious character. He was neither sharp-edged like Chopin or Beethoven, nor overly amiable like Rachmaninoff. He just said what was necessary.

Workman told me that Rowoon’s performance was 37 points. It was a pretty decent score for a first-time performance. I thought that with this kind of feeling, I might be able to reach 50 points before today ends…

Rowoon’s prediction was not wrong.

[ The playing score is 51 points. ]

[You have obtained Mozart’s Composition Journal for the Turkish March! ]

“…”

Rowoon looked down at his Walkman with a surprised expression on his own. I thought maybe I could get a songwriting journal, but if you ask me if I’m sure that’s the case, then again, it wasn’t.

From noble mtl dot com

‘My skills have really improved…’

It was a moment when I realized my growth again. And it wasn’t just Rowoon. It was when Rowoon left the practice room. Eric was looking at Rowoon with a strange expression.

“Did you know how to sing a Turkish march?”

“Except for the one I practiced when I was very young…”

“You seem to be feeling pretty good already?”

“Still, there is a long way to go.”

“It must be a long way to go. Can you hear me now?”

Eric lifted his finger and twirled it around his eyeball. It was referring to the various piano sounds coming from around.

“They are all monsters. It won’t be easy to survive.”

“I don’t really have any thoughts of surviving.”

Rowoon shrugged.

“I intend to win.”

“…”

Eric looked at Rowoon saying that with a strange expression, then immediately said, “Yes, yes.” After saying a word, he turned his back. Rowoon did not bother to ask where he was going. In many ways, they weren’t very close yet.

‘Let’s play back the composition log before going to bed…’

First, I wanted to explore the surroundings a little. A practice room where the sounds of four different songs flowed from here and there. Of course, even if that was the case, compared to when Rowoon first entered the practice room, the sound had diminished a lot now. It was because most of them quit practicing and everyone went to their dorms or somewhere else.

“Roun! it’s over?”

“Oh, Anton.”

And Anton seemed to have finished practicing just in time. Anton, whose complexion was slightly tired, brightened a little as soon as he saw Rowoon. He was a good friend in many ways. And strangely, he was also a friend who thought very well of Rowoon.

Anton spoke softly.

“After listening to it earlier, it seems that you are also playing Mozart…”

“huh. Were you also Mozart? sorry. I couldn’t see you coming.”

“okay. Will we compete again?”

Anton grinned as he said that. It was an expression that couldn’t find the slightest hostility to say let’s compete. Rowoon laughed.

“Where is the competition? They are just playing their own way.”

“······is it? yes? good. Then there is no need to sear, shall we go out to dinner?”

Anton rubbed my stomach and laughed embarrassingly.

“I’m going to die of hunger from now on.”

The studio building where they live had a buffet-style restaurant. Even if it was a buffet, it wasn’t as luxurious as rotisserie chicken, oven-roasted salmon, butter pasta and stir-fried zucchini, and beef stew.

Anton put a bunch of mac and cheese on top of the cheese pizza and took a bite. Rowoon asked while biting into a chicken leg with a subtle herb scent.

“How about practice? How’s it going?”

“……Well, isn’t that Mozart? Mozart, which seems to be the easiest but the most difficult. The Turkish March is no exception. There is no problem with hitting itself, but it is difficult as always to capture the feeling.”

“That’s it…”

“Can we join in for a minute?”

It was then. A couple of men and women approached Rowoon and Anton. It was an impressive white man with a hooked nose and hair tied back, and a black woman with a somewhat petite body.

“······You may sit down, uh, I mean, your name is…?”

“I am Emile. This friend over here is Radica.”

“Could you let me introduce myself? It’s Radica. nice to meet you.”

Radica laughed and stretched out her hand. I can’t describe it as nail art, but the manicured nails were quite impressive. Whether it’s a pianist or a violinist, it wasn’t that common to paint something like that on your nails.

“… it’s Ron.”

“I am Anton.”

“Anton, of course you know! Anyway, okay, Ron, Anton, from what you two are talking about, you seem to be doing Mozart too… right?”

“huh. Maybe you too…?”

“Why would we bother interfering here?”

Emile grinned. There was no hesitation in every word he said, as if confidence permeated every cell of his somewhere. The unique atmosphere that only those who have achieved everything they have ever dreamed of, that if they put their mind to it, anything is possible, stayed in him.

And Radica didn’t seem to like Emile very much. she grunted.

“Emile. You’re all nice, but stop that gruff tone, please. I’m going to cringe and die.”

“······No, what do you say you feel when I say something?”

Emile let out a laugh. Instead of answering, Radica turned to Rowoon and Anton.

“Nice to meet you. I’m from Michigan This greasy friend here is uncharacteristically Curtis. No, is it like Curtis? I don’t know. where are you guys Ah, Anton, I know you’re from Juilliard. Almost everyone here probably knows.”

Anton must have been quite a celebrity, to the extent that Radica would say that. While Rowoon was blankly thinking about it, he suddenly realized that Radica and Emile were staring at him.

‘ah.’

“I am the California Conservatory.”

“Hmm… you came from a geeky school. Aren’t you pretty normal too?”

Saying that, Radica grinned. It was a very benevolent smile, as if he rather liked that he was not normal. Anton asked in a slightly tired voice.

“…so what are you talking about?”

“I didn’t come here to say something in particular… We’re going to bump into each other on the next mission, right? And one of these four might be here this week. It’s not common to have a chance to talk like this, but I wanted to talk a little bit together. In particular, I was curious about what kind of person the famous Anton was. I heard you swept all the contests like that?”

“That’s what I mean, the contests weren’t that big. Right now, I lost to this guy here at the LA Concours.”