God of Piano - God of Piano chapter 90

Rowoon continued. He didn’t stutter even though he spoke at length. I didn’t know it simply by researching it, but I was talking about what I felt while living as Mozart myself, so it was natural that his voice conveyed confidence in my words.

“But what Mozart wanted to capture in this was not just a fad. I think such a simplistic interpretation is an insult to Mozart. I thought Mozart was trying to capture their anxiety through this song. And I wanted to express that.”

＜＜ ······Whether that interpretation is correct or not, at least your intention seems to have worked. ＞＞

said Jennifer.

＜＜ I felt it. that anxiety. It was fun. Maybe in the future, all the Turkish marches I hear will sound uneasy, as they do now. ＞＞

“…That means it was not a bad performance, right?”

＜＜ All answers will be given after the performance is over. ＞＞

Jennifer slipped away like that, but the answer had already been given. Rowoon smiled brightly. And then I looked back at Jayden, and at that moment, Jaden couldn’t help but laugh.

Even so, Rowoon’s face as he looked at Jayden was so confident, it was because he seemed to be asking, ‘Well, how are you going to compliment me?’ Jayden shook his head and said.

＜＜ I think the two of you have already said enough. I’ll just stay quiet. ＞＞

From noble mtl dot com

＜＜ ······Jaden, you’re going to carry this on us while getting paid like that? ＞＞

＜＜ It was a fun performance. ＞＞

Jayden shrugged as if he couldn’t help it.

＜＜ Need more words than this? ＞＞

“……No. I don’t need it.”

Seeing Jayden say that, Harry grinned and muttered, On his screen, he held the scoring sheet sent by the judges. Listening to Rowoon’s performance, watching the look on the faces of the judges and students listening to him, and finally looking at this scorecard, Harry felt the PD’s intuition speak to him.

They found another lead actor.

＜ Take the initiative (5) ＞

＜ Overcoming the baseline (6) ＞

‘If only the lighting is good…’

Harry thought. The story Rowoon told was enough to stimulate the emotions of Americans.

And on top of that story, if I were to play this performance now,

‘that’s enough.’

He’s a friend who deserves a chance to be the lead role. Harry’s musical intuition wasn’t that great. However, I was confident that I would not be inferior to anyone present at least in terms of discerning stars.

Harry quickly looked at the faces of the other pianists who were playing Mozart. And smiled.

All of their faces showed signs of excitement. it was stimulated With the feeling that it was a good performance, I thought it was a performance that contained something I didn’t have.

So it must have been. Rowoon came down, and when the judges asked if anyone would come up next, Emile immediately raised his hand. Then, passing by Rowoon, he muttered quietly.

“I heard you well.”

“…”

Instead of answering, Rowoon just raised his eyebrows. As he stood beside the others waiting, Anton smiled quietly.

“It was fun. Your Turkish march.”

“thank you.”

“I always seem to be playing something different. Are you doing it on purpose or do you do it naturally?”

“······naturally?”

“hmm. It is an amazing talent.”

Anton described it as a talent. And indeed, it was what could be called a talent. At least what Rowoon went through through the Walkman was something no one else in the world could experience.

It was then. The lights came back on the stage. It was time for Emil to play. Emile’s cheeks were flushed, and anyone could see that he was excited.

Did Rowoon’s performance just now give him a lot of stimulation in many ways? Rowoon put his back on the chair and looked at Emil. The Curtis Conservatory, where only geniuses can enter. What kind of genius does that genius really have?

Emil did not hesitate long. His hands rose avant-garde and then fell as if they were being shot at the keyboard. and······.

‘huh?’

Rowoon put on a puzzled expression for a moment.

It was fast. The tempo was about 1.5 times faster than Rowoon’s earlier.

‘You’re going to play it like this?’

Is it a mistake? Did I get so excited that I misunderstood the tempo? However, considering that was the case, Emil’s face did not show any signs of embarrassment. Now this meant that this was the tempo he intended.

It is said that the beat is up to the player’s discretion, but at this speed, it was good to say that it was not at the level of twisting the intention of the song, but at the level of ignoring it altogether. In fact, the others were also spitting out one word at a time and muttering.

“It’s too much.”

“······It was a futile adventure. Emile.”

However, Rowoon did not make hasty judgments. His eyes sunk deeply. I hadn’t spent much time with Emil, but I knew he wasn’t stupid. Contrary to what seems light, his passion for music is not common.

‘So listen. Emil.’

What kind of music is he thinking about?

What kind of clothes is Mozart wearing in his head.

There was no way that Rowoon’s feelings could have been heard by Emile. But after a while, Emil answered Rowoon’s question. Still at a fast tempo, playing as if singing a victory song.

‘······It’s different from the Turkish march that Mozart played.’

However, it occurred to me that Mozart was unlikely to dislike this performance. No, I would rather like it. It’s a performance that seems to show what a pianist’s personality is. It goes with a completely different feeling from the general Turkish march, but nevertheless enough to understand what Emil is trying to sing.

So, when Emil finished playing, the mood of the people was quite different from when he first started playing. It is because they also realized while listening to the performance. That Curtis didn’t pick Emile because he was stupid.

“······As expected, Curtis is Curtis.”

Heather nodded and muttered. It was as it was said. Curtis was Curtis. The place where only geniuses were picked, indeed, put up a genius who matched my reputation as a card.

The stage heated up with Rowoon and Emil. Now all the students were busy raising their hands to go on stage. And after two more musicians passed through the stage, Anton finally sat down at the piano.

‘You look like me. Rowoon.’

Anton smiled and thought. No matter what song he played, Anton always tried to stick to the traditional way of playing. He respected the image of the songs formed by his predecessors over the past long years. And rather than drawing a completely new picture, they put more weight on completing the picture they hadn’t finished drawing yet.

So Anton’s playing was not always different. However, I just want to refine the existing performance more perfectly… so that no flaws are visible.

But because of that, Anton’s performance is more beautiful.

‘It resembles Mozart.’

Looking at Anton, Rowoon opened his mouth for a moment. It was to the point where I wondered if Anton was actually given something similar to a Walkman. His playing was surprisingly similar to Mozart’s playing, which was peeped in the performance log. His performance, which would now remain only as an instruction on the sheet music, was about to be recreated at Anton’s fingertips, albeit clumsily, hundreds of years later.

Of course, the performance did not contain the anxiety or tension that Rowoon had. Anton couldn’t have known all of that, so it was natural if it was natural.

But what if Anton had been given a Walkman?

If Anton, not Rowoon, had a Walkman, would he have performed better than Rowoon now?

“…”

Rowoon clenched his fists. An answer instantly popped into his mind, but he didn’t want to dwell on it. In any case, the Walkman was in his hands, and the duty and honor of reproducing their music fell entirely to Rowoon.

‘okay. You shouldn’t be standing still. Anton.’

I have to run. I have to move forward.

So that everything received through Walkman will not be fleeting. So that there is no more time to blame yourself like this.

After Anton, all the pianists who were in charge of Mozart came up and down the stage. Not all of them performed great. Some misunderstood the keys, even if trivially, and others felt that they hadn’t fully made the Turkish March their own.

‘······ One person will lose their chance today.’

Rowoon was sure that at least it wasn’t him. First of all, Eric’s performance of Bach was good enough, not to mention Rowoon’s performance. And Jungwoo and Heather, who will be on stage soon, were not people who couldn’t live up to his expectations.

＜＜ Interesting. ＞＞

And when the Mozart part ended like that, judge Jennifer pulled her lips.

＜＜ To be honest, I wondered how many different colors you guys could show in Mozart. Especially since the song didn’t have that much room for reinterpretation. But… yes. I must admit. That I was a little underestimating you just because you were an undergraduate. ＞＞

＜＜ Some of the Turkish marches I heard today were ones I will never forget for the rest of my life. The fact that the future of America is hanging on you is not so bitter, at least at this moment. great job. ＞＞

Anyone who knows Jennifer will probably understand just how critically acclaimed it was among her peers. She was famous for never saying anything she didn’t like.

＜＜ As much as that, I have high expectations for the upcoming Chopin. You guys have to entertain me more than you did with Mozart. First of all, I am a person who likes Chopin more than Mozart. ＞＞

It was a word that felt burdensome. However, Jungwoo smiled instead. The preparations were sufficient. Those expectations would be daunting if he didn’t have them, but now he’s grown enough to live up to them.

‘······okay. I grew up. Han Jeong-woo.’

now i have to show

Jungwoo looked around. There is no pretense in the eyes of the students. If he makes a mistake even for a moment, they will immediately send a cold stare. No, not just students. Millions of viewers who will see him through that camera, too, maybe.

Stage fright is not washed away by fighting once and winning. Still, that fear remains and breathes in a corner of his heart, always looking for an opportunity to devour him. But I had to keep fighting. I had to hold on. I had to stand on stage. Somehow, by any means…

“brother.”

And it was at that time that Rowoon spoke. Jung-Woo came to his senses and looked at Rowoon. Rowoon did not speak for a long time. In a calm, quiet voice, as if reading a passage from a book, he spoke confidently.

“Your brother is ready.”

“…”

As these were unexpected words, Jungwoo had no choice but to stiffen for a moment. But soon he burst into laughter. And then he giggled as if he was still laughing, then nodded his head.

“okay. know.”

Perhaps Jungwoo didn’t even know that sweat was beading on his forehead.

It was after a while. When the judges asked who would step in first, Jungwoo immediately raised his hand. Following Rowoon, the third song was also led by a student at the California Institute of Music. The students said, ‘It’s also the California Conservatory. There is no standing back.’ While listening to the muttering, Rowoon thought.

‘no. In fact, he probably wanted to step back more than anyone else.’

The reason why Jungwoo is standing on that stage right now is not because he has a personality that likes to be outspoken. Rather, it is because he is more desperate than anyone else and braver than anyone else. So Rowoon sincerely hoped. Let Jungwoo show you. That his slump is already in the past. That his ankles are no longer submerged in the swamp. proudly, to the world.

Standing in front of the piano, Jungwoo hesitated for a moment. The camera took a close-up of the sweat beading on his face. On the air, his interview will probably be overlapped. How did he get stage fright? How desperately he wants to get over it.

And whether his story will be a comedy or a tragedy depends solely on this performance.

Chopin’s Waltz, No. 2.

A piece written by Chopin at the age of 19. One of the few pieces that Chopin wanted to burn with my death.

From noble mtl dot com

Jungwoo raised his head. Wiping his sweaty palms with a handkerchief, he smiled resignedly as if he had put something down.