Chapter 28
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Whether Intended or Not (1)
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I returned to my seat and flopped down into the chair. In my hand was a crumpled slip of paper with the assigned piece scribbled on it.
Curious faces from both sides peered over, casting small shadows.
"What'd our group leader draw?"
"Judging by that look, Tchaikovsky, huh?"
"Whoa... seriously Tchaik Piano Concerto? That's hilarious. We're screwed, aren't we?"
"What are you gonna do? Even just the solo part's gonna be brutal."
The two others were in a frenzy, excluding Lee Ha-yeon who sat there blankly. I tuned out the mockery whispering in my ears and gently closed my eyes.
Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No.1, third movement.
My dark field of vision lit up, revealing a massive orchestra. Soon, melodies from various instruments began overlapping.
I fast-forwarded through the previous movements to reach the third.
Thick strings flowed out alongside woodwinds that whistled like flutes. Amid them, I focused on the piano melody bouncing lightly.
A lively, dance-like impression. It contrasted sharply with the first movement, which had started like a soft whisper.
'Right, this is the piece.'
I only skimmed the parts I remembered in detail. The most vividly etched in my memory was the climax of the third movement.
Strings and piano exchanging murmurs, followed by the strings' song, with brass subtly joining in.
Then it explodes. The piano's solo delivers a massive catharsis to the audience.
'Most performers struggled with that section...'
And now I have to play it myself.
I let out a groan of contemplation before opening my eyes. In simple terms, I'd resigned myself to it.
Blame the hand that drew the slip—what can you do?
"Everyone check your assigned pieces. For reference, Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto had the fewest draws."
...God is truly indifferent. I let out a heavy sigh and listened to the teacher.
"I'll explain more. This time, you'll be tested alongside first-year orchestra majors specializing in their instruments."
"So it really is a full concerto, not just piano solo."
"Wonder if the orchestra parts match up in numbers."
Fair point. Even Piano Class A has quite a few students. Inviting outsiders would cost a fortune.
Anyway, the questions around me were valid. Even a rough count showed too many pianists.
"Quiet. Let me explain the format. The orchestra students are drawing their assigned pieces right now too."
The teacher raised her voice, drawing everyone's attention.
"Most concertos have fixed instrumentation and numbers. Like how many horns or trumpets are assigned..."
As the explanation continued, I could guess what was coming next.
With so many solo piano players for a concerto, it's imbalanced.
"But this evaluation is different. We'll drastically reduce the orchestra size. That's the only way to accommodate all you pianists."
Sure enough, shrink the orchestra to balance it out.
Probably as a chamber orchestra—a small ensemble.
'Or maybe chamber music arrangement altogether.'
You see this structure often in music.
Arranging chamber pieces like quintets for full orchestra, or scaling down large orchestra works to small.
Our assigned pieces were likely chamber arrangements of concertos with fewer players.
'Gotta imagine toning down the orchestral volume and sharpening each instrument.'
Thinner overall texture, but clearer presence for each.
'Breathing together will be tricky in its own way.'
In piano concertos, what pianists worry about most isn't their mistakes or orchestra sync.
It's playing so your sound doesn't get buried under the blaring orchestra.
Chamber setups reduce that risk since there are fewer instruments.
So, the key in the second evaluation: piano-orchestra breathing.
"So when do we find out our concerto partners? We need to rehearse a lot."
"Ah, that'll be announced the day before the test."
"...Pardon?"
The absurd reply to someone's question hung in the air.
Partners revealed only the day before? When are we supposed to practice?
"Same for orchestra students. They know their pieces but not their pianists until the day before."
She said it so matter-of-factly. Question marks floated on everyone's faces.
"Then how are we supposed to rehearse the concerto..."
"Figure it out yourselves. Good luck."
Choi Je-hun smiled faintly. No mirth among the piano majors, though.
"Other instrument teachers will be there on test day, so keep that in mind. Class starts now."
"This is insane! What do we do?"
In the lesson room that now felt like my second home—the place our group had crammed for the first evaluation—Kim Ju-hee stomped her feet, face scrunched in distress.
"How do two of us here draw Tchaikovsky? It had the fewest slips too. What luck."
"You were teasing me, but look—you drew it too. Upgrade your skills, Ju-hee."
"Ugh, stop teasing!"
I shrugged at Kim Ju-hee's embarrassed protest.
Meanwhile, Lee Seong-hyuk drew Beethoven, and Lee Ha-yeon got Mozart.
'The best player's stuck with the easiest one.'
For Lee Ha-yeon, easy difficulty could be its own penalty.
"Anyway, why'd you call us here? Renting the lesson room and all."
"Why else? Strategy meeting."
"Only strategy is practice."
"No. We practice solo from now on, but today we do it together. Pieces are long and tough, right?"
I didn't fully buy it, but it wasn't incomprehensible. Just look at our reliable support, Lee Ha-yeon.
I glanced down at the score in my hand. I had two: piano part alone, and full score with all instruments.
'Come to think of it, Dad's bookshelf had conductor scores. Been a while.'
As expected, it was a reduced-orchestra arrangement. Most duplicates trimmed to one or two, parts slightly expanded.
"So here's the thing, Ha-yeon!"
Kim Ju-hee pointed sharply at Lee Ha-yeon, who sat quietly blinking innocently.
"Yeah?"
"You did concertos with orchestra in middle school! Give us some tips, yeah?"
Right—Lee Ha-yeon had concerto experience.
At Ye-won, she represented the school at regular and special concerts. Her earnest eyes made it seem like we'd gathered just for this.
Kim Ju-hee stuck to Lee Ha-yeon's side. Lee Ha-yeon pondered briefly.
"Well... we rehearsed a lot to sync up. Can't this time."
"Yeah, yeah!"
"Most important: play while hearing both your piano and the orchestra at once. Same piece, so miss a beat and it's disaster."
"Yeah, listen well, keep the beat!"
"Like in our first eval, blend smoothly. In solo sections..."
Kim Ju-hee nodded eagerly at every word.
Analyzing concertos from the audience side, hearing a performer's raw experience felt fresh.
Lee Ha-yeon offered more gentle advice.
"Orchestra messes up sometimes, and it's obvious. Handle squawks smoothly."
"That's fine!"
"...And I hate strings going off-script. Especially violin. If you're gonna hog it, do a violin concerto. They're not concertmaster but try to stand out anyway."
"...Yeah?"
The talk veered wildly from advice. Lee Ha-yeon continued flatly, expression unchanged.
"They think they're doing something special, but piano concerto is for our piano—'Piano Concerto.' But if one academy prof's in the audience, they go nuts to shine."
"Um, Ha-yeon?"
"Not court musicians anymore. Not playing for nobles. I almost told them to do their own recital..."
"H-Ha-yeon."
Lee Ha-yeon, unleashing razor-sharp words mercilessly, took a calm breath. Like a red-hot machine venting steam.
She exhaled deeply and glanced at Kim Ju-hee.
Her usual blank expression.
"Yeah."
"...You back?"
"Back from what?"
"N-Nothing. Let's practice!"
What was that?
Less than a minute, but it overlapped with Lee Ha-yeon kicking out Jeong Hye-won. So much pent-up resentment... Eerie and fierce.
"Ha-yeon first? Group leader and I last."
"Sure."
We started with piano parts solo, no other instruments.
Two or three runs each seemed perfect timing, so we took turns.
"Do-hyun."
"Shh, I know."
By the time dusk fully invaded the sky...
"That was the climax, right?"
"...Yeah."
"Climax like that... No, you can't play it that way."
"I know."
"I'll help if you've got time. Tougher than I thought."
"Thanks for saying it."
I deeply lamented the merciless difficulty of the piece.
Even with breaks, over seven minutes of relentless notes. Like climbing three stairs at once and slipping back down.
I clutched the score and sighed, cursing this damn world. Laughter poked from beside me.
"Hey, Kim Ju-hee. You don't have the luxury to laugh at others."
"Pfft, what? I played better than you!"
"We'll see on test day."
"Nyah nyah~"
Her cheeky cute grin left me unable to retort harshly.
Unfair.
The day the second evaluation details dropped, the classroom was pandemonium.
"Argh, should I get private concerto lessons?"
"Hey, let's rent an outside hall. How much?"
"Pool money? Your flute friend..."
"School reimburses hall rentals with receipts?"
"Jackpot. Rent a small local one."
With vocal majors, minority instruments, and Piano B/C uninvolved, the whole music department minus orchestra majors—it was inevitable.
Most floundered on practice plans. Unknown partners? Chaos natural.
"Ye-ri's jealous-worthy—tons of connections, easy to find partners!"
"What about us..."
"Ugh, doomed. My trombone buddy already snagged a pianist."
Seo Ye-ri and friends vented nearby.
Scanning the room, my eyes met sharp glares from a few kids.
No worry-free souls, but some envy even having worries.
'That group's vibe is tense.'
Piano majors not in A Class, ineligible for this eval.
"Even having those worries is a luxury."
"We're just solo recital. Ugh, so boring."
"I wanna be in A Class for that... Jealous."
Not just me—scornful glances and snide remarks flew at Piano A.
"Hmph."
"Scary, scary."
I shared a knowing look with Lee Seong-hyuk amid the snorts.
I'd downplayed A Class perks before, but here the gap showed. This eval was hellish but great experience for us.
Such trifles accumulate, widening the divide.
They knew, hence targeting me especially.
'Second eval has a big bet on my score.'
Oddly, first feeling: relief at being in A Class.
I want to stay—try everything.
Reason to aim high this eval.
Lee Seong-hyuk chuckled quietly at me.
"Just ace it perfectly. Leave 'em no shot."
"After hearing me yesterday?"
"...It'll work out. Gotta try, right?"
"I'll try."
"No results, no effort—know that?"
"That's why you skip studying."
"Spot on?"
"Whatever."
Basking in window sunlight, dodging glares, I surveyed the room. Who'd be my group? Imagining.
Then my focus shifted from class to an approaching girl.
"Hey."
Unfamiliar face. Bland impression—maybe same class, hard to recall.
"What's up?"
"You guys are piano majors...?"
We nodded; she hesitantly asked.
"Anyone draw Tchaikovsky Concerto?"
She needed pianists for practice.
Convenient—no hunting ourselves.
"But we only have a couple pianists. Everyone else taken by other groups... You'd make practice possible."
Not the cheeriest follow-up.
Few Tchaikovsky drawers. Top players snag good pianists first?
'Leftovers like me, scraps.'
Fallen to surplus, but no bad feelings. Better than total isolation.
"How many pianists total?"
"Four with you two."
"She's Beethoven, I'm Tchaikovsky."
"Oh, then three..."
Only two secured? Practice issues. Longer it drags, heavier burden on them.
"Sure, we'll join."
"Yeah, but we're using on-campus hall, no outside rental..."
Her trailing voice suggested shyness. She gave today's venue and vanished.
"Gotta find my group quick. Beethoven's popular—lucky."
"Why so chill? No friends but me."
"How you know?"
"Duh."
"Can't argue, but I got this."
Lee Seong-hyuk waved his little notebook smugly.
Art school otaku perks, huh.
'Straight to practice after school.'
My first concerto.
A pleasant tension settled in.