"Just One More Time"
"Though only one last time."
Even if it was just one last time.
Perhaps, when Yosef Hassid was ill in mind and body.
Staring at the violin he could never hold again.
Desperately, for one last chance.
It may have been a cry to play again.
"I didn’t know."
Emily bit her lip.
"I had no idea there was a story like that..."
Christine had already lost her voice; she was wiping at the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand.
Si-woo took a laptop out of his bag.
He had organized the material he’d researched in advance.
He showed it to Emily and Christine.
On the screen was a black-and-white photograph.
A young man with curly hair rested a violin against his jaw, bow lifted, eyes closed.
"Oh my God."
Emily pointed at the screen.
"Is this him?"
"Yes. Yosef Hassid."
"Grandmother told me about him. She said he was a handsome young man. That his eyes were so heartbreakingly clear..."
Si-woo flipped to the next screen on the laptop.
The violin’s maker information was displayed there.
"Let me explain what this violin is."
Si-woo’s calm voice rang through the living room.
"Its name is Le Chant du Silence, or The Song of Silence. It was made in Paris, France, in 1860."
Emily tilted her head.
"The Song of Silence? That’s an unusual name."
"It is. The maker was Jean-Baptiste Vuillaume, the master luthier of nineteenth-century France and a man often called the heir to Stradivarius."
Yang Dong-seok watched with a look of keen curiosity.
"The heir to Stradivarius?"
"Yes. Vuillaume was famous for meticulously studying and reproducing instruments by Stradivarius and Guarneri del Gesu. In fact, that was his core business. His copies were so exact that they could be indistinguishable from the originals. Even now, there are cases where one of Vuillaume’s copies has passed for a genuine instrument."
Si-woo paused for a moment and looked down at the violin.
"That said, Vuillaume’s instruments are not dismissed as mere fakes at all. While a Stradivarius or a Guarneri can fetch tens of billions of won, Vuillaume’s work is usually valued in the hundreds of millions. That may sound low by comparison, but an instrument worth hundreds of millions is by no means cheap."
"...So it’s not as expensive as I expected."
At Yang Dong-seok’s words, Si-woo shook his head.
"That’s one way to see it. What affects the price is the difference between an original and a perfect copy, as well as rarity."
Si-woo moved to the next screen.
"There are only about six hundred surviving Stradivarius violins. Vuillaume, by contrast, produced more than three thousand instruments in his workshop. He was an extraordinary craftsman and an incredibly shrewd businessman."
Yang Dong-seok nodded as if he understood.
Si-woo’s gaze remained on the violin.
"Vuillaume was a genius who recreated Stradivarius with near perfection. He may have started from replication, but he wasn’t merely an imitator; he was also a singular master who developed his own tone. Even Hillary Hahn, one of the world’s top soloists today, uses a Vuillaume as her primary instrument. Not Stradivarius. Not Guarneri. Vuillaume."
Emily’s eyes widened.
"I’ve heard of her."
"Exactly. That’s the kind of instrument this is. It may not be worth hundreds of billions, but it’s absolutely not a cheap sound. That’s why even among the greatest performers, some choose Vuillaume."
Silence settled over the living room for a moment.
Emily’s eyes drifted to the violin resting in its case.
Si-woo lifted it once more.
Under the light, the amber varnish glowed with a deep luster.
"What's more, this instrument was made in 1860. It’s a work from Vuillaume’s mature period, after he had passed sixty, when his technique and sensibility had reached their peak. Among surviving Vuillaume violins, it belongs to the highest tier. It was especially valuable, enough to merit its own name."
Yang Dong-seok swallowed.
"Then the price..."
"It would be set far higher than an ordinary Vuillaume violin. But."
Si-woo cut himself off.
His eyes brushed over the place beneath the chin rest, the spot that could only be seen when the light hit it just right.
"The real value of this instrument lies in its story."
The room fell quiet again.
"An instrument gains a premium from its provenance, meaning who used it before. The fact that it was used by Kreisler, one of the greatest violinists of his day, already raises its value. And the fact that Kreisler gave it to Yosef Hassid carries historical significance as well. On top of that, the instrument used in the recording session that preserved his final twenty-nine minutes is this very violin."
Si-woo looked from Emily to Christine and back again.
"There are thousands of Vuillaume violins in the world. But an instrument with this kind of history exists only once. The moment this story becomes known, its value will rise even further."
An artifact’s value changes depending on who actually used it, and what story it carries.
If some mark or trace is left on the object itself, its worth can rise to a degree that is beyond comparison.
In that sense, The Song of Silence was worth at least five billion won.
Compared with other Vuillaume instruments, it was in a completely different league.
* * *
The next morning.
Yang Dong-seok and Si-woo talked.
"You are truly remarkable. How on earth did you figure that out? I’m in awe of your eye, Mr. Kim Si-woo."
"No, not at all."
"Haha. The more I look at it, the more impressive your judgment becomes... But what are we going to do with that instrument?"
Si-woo looked toward The Song of Silence, placed in a corner of the living room.
"Since Yosef Hassid has no surviving family, ownership naturally falls to Emily’s family. I’m only the appraiser. We should do whatever they want."
The Border Collie, Bella, was asleep with her chin on Si-woo’s knee, snoring softly.
Si-woo rubbed the top of her head and along her back.
At that moment, Emily and Christine came out.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Yes. The house is so comfortable that I slept very well."
Emily sat on the sofa and brought out tea, then spoke cautiously.
"I thought about it all night. What to do with the violin. I just couldn’t find an answer. So I’d like you, Mr. Kim Si-woo, to tell us the way forward as well."
As Si-woo stroked Bella’s head, he considered it.
"Usually, there are three ways to handle a famous old violin. First is permanent preservation. The Stradivarius Messiah at the Ashmolean Museum in England has preserved the condition it had three hundred years ago. No matter how brilliant a musician is, they will never lend it out. It is displayed only behind glass."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. Because it has such immense historical value, they avoid any risk of damage. The second is a compromise. Wooden instruments lose their voice if they are not played for too long. At the Cremona Museum, a resident maestro takes out the multi-billion-won instruments every morning and plays them for ten minutes. He breathes life back into them."
Emily blinked.
"Every day?"
"Yes. And the third is the philosophy that instruments must be played, which is why some foundations entrust them to the world’s finest performers. They select outstanding musicians and lend them instruments worth tens or even hundreds of billions."
Emily and Christine looked at each other and thought it over.
"The third option definitely sounds best to me. So we should sell it to a foundation?"
"Yes. That would be the most reliable choice."
Emily nodded, then asked cautiously, "But... would a foundation really offer a fair price? To be honest, that’s what worries me."
Si-woo nodded.
"That’s a reasonable concern. To put it plainly, a foundation is actually more likely to pay a fair price."
"Why?"
"Because a foundation doesn’t just buy instruments. It buys the value of an instrument. Maker, performance history, story. A foundation is the place best equipped to evaluate those things accurately. If you take it to a private collector, the risk is greater. It could just end up locked away in a display case."
Yang Dong-seok cut in.
"A display case?"
"Yes. That actually happens. A Stradivarius worth tens of billions is handed over to a private collector and then sleeps in a vault for more than ten years without being played once. Wooden instruments die if they aren’t played. The Song of Silence slept for eighty years. It can’t be put to sleep again."
Emily’s expression hardened.
"I don’t want that. Absolutely not."
"That’s why a foundation makes sense. A foundation purchases the instrument and then entrusts it to a world-class performer. It keeps the instrument breathing on stage. Considering the story behind The Song of Silence, a foundation is the best home for it."
Christine asked quietly, "So how much could it sell for, specifically?"
"An upper-tier Vuillaume violin would usually be worth around one billion won. But this instrument has the provenance of Kreisler and Hassid, plus the record that it was used in that twenty-nine-minute recording session."
Si-woo looked down at the violin inside its case and added, "And one more thing. Its condition is astonishingly good."
"Its condition?"
"Yes. If it was made in 1860, that makes it more than one hundred and sixty years old this year. At that age, varnish is usually worn away or cracks start appearing in the wood, but The Song of Silence has almost entirely intact varnish. Wear on the fingerboard and pegs is minimal, and the joints between the top and back plates are clean."
Carefully, Si-woo lifted the violin and tilted it toward the light.
"An instrument that old staying in this kind of condition means someone cared for it with real dedication. Humidity, temperature, storage environment. It means it was maintained regularly."
Emily’s eyes trembled.
"Could it be that Grandmother..."
"Yes. Your grandmother protected this instrument for more than eighty years. She may not have been able to play it, but she never once neglected it."
Christine bit her lip.
"Grandmother said she opened the case twice a year, every spring and autumn, and wiped it down with a dry cloth. And she told us over and over never to leave it near the fireplace..."
"Sudden changes in temperature are fatal to wooden instruments. Your grandmother knew a great deal about violins."
Si-woo lowered the violin back into the case with great care.
"The condition of an instrument directly affects its value. Even with the same maker and the same year, the price can differ by a factor of two or three depending on condition. The Song of Silence, in addition to its provenance, is preserved in top-tier condition. By my appraisal, it’s worth at least five billion won. It could go higher in the foundation’s own evaluation and negotiation process."
Emily caught her breath.
"And there’s one more advantage to selling to a foundation."
Si-woo looked at Emily directly.
"You can attach conditions."
"Conditions?"
"Yes. For example, that the history of the instrument be included in public programming. That when the performer steps on stage, the audience be told the story behind The Song of Silence. Those kinds of terms can be written into the sale contract. That’s impossible if you hand it to a private individual, but it’s possible in a direct transaction with a foundation. The price may be lower, though."
Emily’s eyes grew moist.
"Then Grandmother’s story..."
"Yes. Your grandmother’s story and Yosef Hassid’s story will continue on with the instrument. On stage, through the performer’s voice."
Christine took Emily’s hand.
Emily lowered her head and wiped at her eyes.
A little later, she looked up again.
"Please do that. We’ll ask the foundation."
"Understood. I’ll obtain the provenance documents and an appraisal from a proper institution, then contact the foundation."
"Thank you so much."
Emily bowed deeply, her gratitude sincere.
Bella woke from her sleep, opened her eyes, and thumped her tail.
As if everything had turned out well.
She stretched out her front legs on Si-woo’s lap, yawned, and arched her back.
Si-woo laughed and scratched under her chin.
Yang Dong-seok asked Emily, "If we can include this whole process in the Nutflix documentary, it’ll make for a truly incredible episode. Would that be all right?"
Emily and Christine exchanged a glance.
"If it means Grandmother’s story and Yosef Hassid’s story can be known, then yes."
Still, Si-woo was lost in thought.
He wanted to play the violin.
While appraising it.
The fleeting memories of Yosef Hassid would not leave his mind.
A young man who had never let go of his violin, even amid war.
The longing for the violin he had finally been forced to abandon by the torment in his own mind.
That memory moved Si-woo.
In the end, he carefully lifted the violin.
Yosef Hassid’s feeling, wanting to repay the daughter and granddaughter of the grandmother who had protected the violin.
Perhaps the impulse he felt now was that very thing.
"If it’s all right with you, may I play one piece?"
---