Chapter 57
Chapter 57
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 57
Chapter Title: Erdi Billet 3
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Victor Korsolin.
The man once called the pinnacle of the capital's arts.
However, after Anton Tilberg's appearance, his position slowly began to shrink.
At some point, he started referring to himself not as an artist, but as a scholar.
For a moment, he was pitied as a tragic figure who had been chased off the stage.
But his true rise to prominence began then.
It could not be more ironic.
Victor's scholarly passion and progressive thinking truly took flight at the Academy.
He felt it himself.
"Professor, you seem happier living as a researcher now than you ever did as a performer."
He could not honestly refute his fellow professors' words.
He realized that he was a man more capable of interpreting already-created works than creating music himself.
And that he was a man who found joy in that.
Of course, he still dabbled in composition from time to time.
It was something he had done as naturally as breathing his whole life, so he could not completely let it go.
That said, he was not starting from a blank slate like before.
He took inspiration from the music Anton had released, borrowed the harmonies.
He changed the melody this way and that, writing something akin to a variation.
The reaction was.
"Are you saying you created this piece, Professor?"
Quite favorable.
Even Anton, the original owner of the piece, praised him without reserve.
"To interpret a Canon like this... truly amazing."
"Since the original piece is of such high quality, it can't help but be excellent no matter how you change it."
And now.
He had stepped onto the stage to present his own unique Canon, reinterpreted in this way.
First, a low note struck like thunder.
If you were to divide the piano keys in half, he paid no attention whatsoever to the right side where the high octaves existed.
People usually praised the Canon for its refreshing and flowing melody.
But Victor was a little different.
'The core lies in the harmonies.'
He unfolded all of those harmonies, his left hand rapidly pressing the keys here and there.
Broken chords, arpeggios.
He built a melody on top of the low-note framework.
Once again, his own arbitrary interpretation was added.
Harmony is ultimately two different notes achieving harmony, and a good progression is the key to piano performance.
It was a fact he had realized through long research.
He did not need to follow the original melody. As long as he found the notes that fit within the harmony, it could be a complete piece.
The lips of the audience members, including the new students seated in the audience, slowly parted.
They certainly knew the piece, Canon.
However.
It was different somehow.
A feeling that was both familiar and unfamiliar.
It felt like they had heard it somewhere, but if they tried to recall it, no conclusion came to mind.
After all, the Canon and the piece Victor Korsolin was playing now only shared the same root; everything after that was completely different.
It was not strange for them to express their confusion.
Regardless.
"He seems better than when he was active on stage."
"Do you think anyone can be an Academy professor?"
"It's not just his skill, the music itself is incredibly pleasing to the ear."
Victor's attempt was a success.
He interpreted the Canon anew without losing its essence, and instead captured the audience's ears with a richer, more attractive sound.
The original piece came to mind, yet at the same time, it was different from the original.
That music, both familiar and unfamiliar, was quite a fresh shock.
Everyone seated, savoring Victor's performance, began to look at him with eyes of reverence, thinking, 'This is what it means to be an Academy professor.'
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"...It's a truly original interpretation. Hearing it like this, the Canon feels like a completely different piece."
Erdi asked me with a deeply surprised expression.
"I agree."
My thoughts were similar.
That was Victor Korsolin's weapon.
Performance is similar to cooking.
Let's say there is a soup.
If you are new to cooking, just making the soup is a struggle.
Develop a little more, and you can make a delicious soup without difficulty.
And so it continues to the end.
What happens when you go as far as you can go?
You try putting this in the soup, and that in the soup.
You begin your own experiments.
And in very unconventional ways.
From this point on, the soup is only called soup in name; it becomes a completely different dish.
It is a characteristic of stagnant water.
You turn the soup a muddy color, serve it in a flower pot instead of a plate, and top it with flower petals.
That is exactly Victor's current state.
He does not just play it the same; he knows how to add a variation with his own strong color.
I don't know if it's a habit or the power of research, but it is probably the latter.
He had been composing before I appeared, after all.
Experience cannot be ignored.
And his theoretical knowledge must be outstanding as well.
Erdi has some talent for arrangement, but he does not have the ability to change a piece from start to finish to his own taste.
The talents granted to performers differ from person to person.
After all, wasn't Victor called the authority on Anton Tilberg at the Academy?
He must have put in painstaking effort.
Perhaps he has a much higher understanding of my music than Erdi or I do.
So he can quickly grasp the hidden intentions within it, mobilize all the knowledge he has, and eventually be reborn with it as his own.
In any case, he is an amazing person.
I watched Victor's performance for a while.
"Erdi, get ready."
"Understood."
It was time to introduce the second professor.
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Victor Korsolin, who had pressed the final key with a light touch, rose from his seat.
A cheer erupted from the audience.
"Wow! To think I can learn piano directly from Professor Korsolin!"
Not a single person had expected this situation.
In the capital, Anton Tilberg.
In the North, Victor Korsolin.
Instead, there was a prevailing speculation that factions would form and the Academies would compete against each other.
But.
As if to overturn all those expectations.
Victor and Anton met in one place.
Not as rivals, but as colleagues.
The audience's hearts burned hot.
They were so emotionally heightened by the performance that they could not even speak properly.
Then.
The Dean opened his mouth.
"Professor Victor Korsolin!"
Applause erupted.
"Now, I will introduce the second professor."
The noisy theater quickly fell silent.
The Dean stood at the edge of the stage and slowly scanned the new students filling the seats.
"For a long time, we have been under the prejudice that only the noble could continue the flame of art."
Everyone listened intently to the Dean's words and kept their mouths shut tight for a moment.
Quietly, voices began to burst out from various places.
"Today, I wish to introduce to you a figure who will cross that boundary."
The whispering voices turned into questions.
"What do you mean?"
One of the seated new students raised their hand and stood up.
However, the Dean felt no need to answer that question separately.
They would find out soon enough anyway.
"I introduce Professor Erdi Bilet. Though his origin is that of a commoner, his outstanding talent and depth of knowledge will surely lead you all to a better place."
As soon as those words ended, the whispering turned into a murmur.
Especially the heads of noble families who had accompanied their children to the enrollment ceremony were greatly dissatisfied.
"A commoner as an Academy professor...?"
"Does this make any sense?"
"...Even if we accept Lord Anton because he is the eldest son of a Count family, albeit young, how can you speak of entrusting my son to a commoner?"
"Even though it is a branch, is it alright to disregard us this much?"
Faced with a situation that was hard to understand, everyone could not hide their bewilderment.
The Dean's single word silenced all the commotion.
"This is a certificate recognizing Professor Erdi's achievements."
He unfurled a scroll above his head.
"Many people have left their signatures directly."
And he read the names one by one.
"Count Freyart Harborland, Count Julian Tilberg."
There was no particular reaction up to this point.
In a way, it was natural.
They were Anton's closest aides, so it would be stranger if their signatures were not on the certificate.
"Next is Count Aiolin Seneca. A noble family from the South has officially recognized Professor Erdi's capabilities."
Soon, mixed sighs of astonishment began to escape the audience.
"And Duke Gerold Montella. He has long ties with the Academy, and his signature is contained in this document."
"Is that the Duke Montella I know?"
"You don't mean..."
"Are you saying he signed it himself?"
The confusion amplified.
At the same time.
By this point, they could not help but be convinced.
If it was Duke Montella's signature, its value could not be ignored.
The audience grew more and more heated.
The Dean's words once again quieted the noisy theater.
"Finally, Her Highness, Crown Princess Elise Flovitz, has also signed."
"..."
"I certify that Her Highness personally supported Professor Erdi's accomplishments."
Some nobles nodded to each other.
Their eyes, once filled with disbelief and caution, were now full of warmth and certainty.
Of course, there were still those who could not accept this situation.
The fact that Erdi Bilet, a commoner, was officially appointed as an Academy professor was an act that shook the traditions and beliefs held until now.
So then.
It was time to put the final dot on the matter.
A man walked out from the dark backstage and bowed deeply to the audience.
Brown hair and blue eyes.
Simple but neat clothing.
He went to the piano and sat down.
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