Chapter 33
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Perfect Mistake (1)
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Tchaikovsky, Piano Concerto No. 1.
I stared at the score.
'This is killer...'
As I scanned the densely packed notes, a sigh of empty admiration escaped my lips.
Sometimes, there are pieces that inspire a sense of holy reverence, making you wonder how anyone could compose something like this.
Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1 was one of those.
'And I have to perform this masterpiece with a drastically scaled-down orchestra.'
Just the third movement, picked out specifically.
I knew it was unavoidable, but it still left a lingering regret.
This work had that iconic opening in the first movement, the explosive horn blasts throughout, and the list went on endlessly.
'Guess I'll have to console myself later with a video of a full performance starting from the first movement.'
Smacking my lips, I glanced down at the text printed on the cover of the score.
This piece had its tragic backstory.
When Tchaikovsky first drafted Piano Concerto No. 1, he showed the manuscript to Nikolai Rubinstein, his patron and benefactor. He'd even painstakingly inscribed a dedication to him, which spoke volumes about his sincerity.
But what came back was brutal criticism.
They said the piano part was brutally difficult to play, unoriginal, and overly convoluted.
'That's when Tchaikovsky got pissed.'
For real.
They say the moment he heard the harsh review, he bolted to the next room and had to take deep breaths to calm down.
The flustered Nikolai suggested that with a few revisions, he'd conduct the premiere himself, but Tchaikovsky flatly refused.
In the end, not a single note in the piano part was changed. The dedication went to a German conductor instead of Nikolai, and the premiere happened in Boston, not Moscow.
'Around that time, he even lamented to his patroness that his piece might turn out to be garbage.'
Come to think of it, the piece he wrote while vacationing at that noblewoman's estate was Souvenir d’un lieu cher. The one I'd played at home on my first day back.
'Seeing it all connected like this hits different.'
Tchaikovsky was multifaceted. He played violin competently and had real skill on piano too.
His piano technique was remarkably modern for the era, considered quite unique back then.
Which is why, even though the premiere was a success, critics still called it overly complex.
'Putting this unfortunate tale together...'
What nuance did Tchaikovsky, the one driven to a nervous breakdown by all this, want the piano's sound to carry to the audience?
'More intensely. More clearly.'
On one hand, the anxiety and depression from betrayal by his benefactor must have consumed him. On the other, he probably wanted to pour out every ounce of his conviction that he was right.
...I wasn't sure, but probably something like that? Interpretations are all subjective anyway.
Either way, it wouldn't hurt for me to unleash my energy just as stubbornly, on a whole other level.
Might even be good to hear a few "What's up with that guy?" comments.
"Do-hyun!"
A male student's voice pulled me from my reverie.
"Yeah."
I looked up to see a guy I'd never met before tapping my shoulder. He flashed an awkward smile and said,
"You're doing Tchaikovsky, right? Got a group yet? If not, wanna join ours?"
"Who...?"
"Oh, I'm violin major from Class 11 next door."
After listening to his pitch about himself and his group for a few minutes, I finally sent him off with a vague "I'll think about it." Which wasn't like me at all.
How arrogant! But there was good reason for it here.
I scanned the noisy classroom. Like that guy, plenty of students from other classes were mixed in. Most were busy recruiting practice partners for their groups.
It might seem sudden now, but this evaluation had one major flaw.
'Even if you snag a temporary group you're happy with... it's hard to stick together and practice until the exam.'
On the actual day, groups were randomly assigned. No telling who you'd end up next to, trying to sync breaths.
So even with a total stranger, you had to practice together at least once to feel secure.
Even those who'd initially grouped with close friends or top performers were realizing their mistake.
The fact that I'd already gotten three invitations today was proof. All that was left was for the people who'd practiced with me the least to pick my group.
"What's with the sudden popularity?"
"A loophole in the system... something like that. Lucky break. How's it going over there?"
Lee Seong-hyuk shrugged as he chimed in.
"Here, with so many people, it's easy. Groups mix and change constantly, and it's simple to join."
"No need to worry from the start, huh."
"I've got the info, after all."
He waved his notebook smugly.
"Smart guy."
"Thanks."
"Not a compliment."
Practice groups were more or less sorted. I could relax now.
That meant I could experiment with syncing to all sorts of people.
'Of course, I'd stick to the big picture. Branch out details from there.'
Tchaikovsky fit best with emphasizing the piano's unparalleled intensity, true to the piece's intent.
'Gotta vary the pacing timings too.'
Knowing exactly which parts the orchestra could follow easily or struggle with would help.
It felt like puzzle pieces falling into place. My sense of how to tackle this assignment piece was sharpening.
Just find the final piece through practice right up to the day before, and it'd be complete.
"Do-hyun, not hitting the bathroom?"
"Bathroom? Was just about to. Why?"
"Grab some water on your way back."
"..."
I snatched Lee Seong-hyuk's tumbler and stood. As I headed out, I spotted Seol Yu-jin next to the back door, engrossed in something.
She was tapping on her desk.
Squinting, I saw she was mimicking piano playing.
This rhythm, these finger movements... Beethoven Piano Concerto. Image training her assignment piece.
'She's really putting in the work.'
I averted my gaze and kept walking. Then someone suddenly grabbed my wrist.
Startled, I turned to see a girl with a long ponytail.
"...What is it."
Had to be Seol Yu-jin; no one else would pull something this weird. Spotting me passing behind in that split second and reaching out—superhuman reflexes.
She pulled out her earbuds and stared at me.
"You're Tchaikovsky, right?"
Guess my assignment piece was public knowledge now. I nodded.
"You're Beethoven, then."
"...How'd you know?"
"Saw you tapping the desk."
"Oh, yeah, Beethoven."
She cleared her throat after a brief fluster. I shook off her clinging hand in the meantime.
"Last eval was kinda disappointing."
"What, your rank drop?"
"Nah? That was just weird judging."
"Sure."
"Definitely."
Blame the system after skipping self-reflection—timeless truth. Whether she'd actually reflected was doubtful.
Probably not.
"So what was disappointing?"
"You... hid your real skill like a coward. Or ran from me, take your pick."
She giggled, shoulders shaking.
Hide my skill? Run away?
Thinking back, it was about my playing position in the first evaluation.
There were circumstances, but no interest in explaining now.
"Even if so, shouldn't you be the disappointed one? Why you?"
"Not fair and square. Last match doesn't count. Go all out this time."
"Hey, I never agreed to any match."
She stared intently as I shot back incredulously.
"You did."
"Didn't."
"Did. Don't you think this eval, where you can show your full skill, is perfect to settle it?"
Thinking solo, concluding solo—you do it all yourself.
I swallowed the retort and let my expression speak.
"On exam day, go all in, show everything. Don't get scared and let the orchestra push you around."
"Yeah, planned to anyway."
"Especially in a concerto, the key is..."
"Ah, group leader!"
Seol Yu-jin was about to dive deep when Kim Ju-hee spotted me from up front and approached.
"Hey, hey. Swing by the class before math later. Got something to say."
"Before math? Got it."
Kim Ju-hee waved and vanished after her quick message.
A prickling gaze made me look down—Seol Yu-jin was pouting like she might cry.
"When talking to me, focus only on me..."
Speechless. At least pretend to listen to me?
But she looked like she needed soothing, so I hastily placated her.
"Yeah, yeah, got it. Where were we? Concerto? Orchestra?"
She calmed her breathing, then cleared her throat confidently again.
"Anyway, you get what I'm saying, right? My advice."
Seol Yu-jin's lecture on concerto philosophy lasted about five minutes, standing like a stone statue before I broke free.
"Give 200%, maybe more, full blast. That way, I won't feel bad beating you."
"Yeah, no guilt trips. You do great too."
Rival play... guess she digs that. Tough tempo to follow.
I glanced at her expectant eyes, then the clock.
"Ah, was supposed to hit the bathroom."
Bell was about to ring. Lee Seong-hyuk's tumbler was empty too.
"Hoo..."
Kim Ju-hee sighed repeatedly, cheek smooshed against her desk.
Lee Seong-hyuk, Lee Ha-yeon, and I sat around her.
"What's up this time."
"Something bad with Seo Ye-ri?"
"Think I only talk about Ye-ri?"
"Usually, yeah?"
"Yeah."
She glared daggers at us guys, then slammed the desk and straightened up.
"Let's go out!"
No context, totally random. Nothing came to mind to say.
"Heard the canteen got new stuff today. Wanna check it out later?"
"You got tons of vouchers. Buying?"
"Sure, why not."
"Aah, don't ignore me!"
Topic change backfired; her pushiness was fierce.
"Gotta hit an outside hall this weekend, lessons too, so can't go anywhere till eve of exam. Shopping with Ha-yeon and Ye-ri's on hold, I might just die from stress..."
We watched her fake-wail into her hands.
Lee Ha-yeon didn't seem to grasp "make time even if busy."
"Then after classes, get outing passes and grab dinner outside?"
"Yes! Hell yeah, Seong-hyuk!"
"Hey, if you cave every time, when do we practice..."
"Nope! Outing today, decided. Argue again and see."
She wagged her finger triumphantly. Giggling, she added,
"Wait in class after classes, everyone."
Maybe we'd overdone the practice lately. Even in dorms, wrestling with recordings.
A quick breather to clear heads wouldn't hurt. Apologize in advance to the practice crew.
After regular classes ended, we got outing passes from the office.
They scrutinize if it's "official lesson schedule," but otherwise rubber-stamp it. Sticking to "visiting parents" worked surprisingly easy.
"Starving. What we eating?"
"Nothing too pricey."
"No greasy or smelly stuff..."
"Pasta and pizza?"
"Sounds good. Wood-fired?"
"Yes! Shabu-shabu! Let's go!"
Our hard consensus got shot down. Why ask then? Lee Seong-hyuk and I shared a look.
Kim Ju-hee linked arms with Lee Ha-yeon and strode ahead; we trailed loosely.
"Crowded. Rush hour, huh."
Lee Seong-hyuk muttered entering the restaurant. Rush hour—familiar term lately?
Food arrived quick after ordering.
"Huge portions."
"Dig in."
"Wait, pics! Hold up."
Like a ritual prayer, Kim Ju-hee photographed from every angle.
Only after shutter clicks could we toss ingredients in the pot.
"This place is amazing? Dad recommended."
Kim Ju-hee stacked meat and veg on her spoon, shoving it in happily.
Contrast to Lee Ha-yeon delicately dipping a slice in chili sauce.
Always thought so, but Kim Ju-hee sure packed it away blessedly.
"First time eating out together like this? Nice. Right, Ha-yeon?"
"Ju-hee, you do any workouts?"
"Me? Nah."
"I see..."
"What do you mean by that!"
Their bickering was subtly entertaining.
After the lively meal, we strolled the streets—Kim Ju-hee's order, since going straight back wasted the passes.
"Ha-yeon, practice together back at school. Help me out..."
"Sure, you're Tchaikovsky too, so easy for me."
"Easy?"
"...Nothing."
"Do-hyun, practice with us too?"
"Maybe."
Walking abreast, faint instrument sounds drifted over. Vivid, not store music—busking maybe...
"Let's check it! Fun."
The source was a wide plaza. Piano, drums, cello, bass guitar, trumpet.
Full small jazz band in full swing.
"Whoa, jazz? Love it."
"Jazz in ages."
We stood arm-in-arm, soaking it in. School busyness had cut jazz time; ears delighted.
'They're good. Really solid.'
Every player was highly skilled.
'Donna Lee', 'Rhapsody in Blue', 'Waltz for Debby', 'Polka Dots and Moonbeams'...
Just the setlist showed a firm era taste.
Applause poured after the next tune. We clapped and cheered too.
"Now, for a special guest! Anyone wanna jam one with our band? Any instrument welcome!"
The pianist announced cheerfully to the crowd.
Even simple tunes, who boldly joins strangers onstage?
'Seol Yu-jin type could.'
Felt like she'd pop up and claim the piano.
"Ooh, shy volunteer steps up!"
A trenchcoat woman laughed gaily, dashing onstage. Crowd watched intrigued.
Quick chat with band, then she sat at piano, ready.
"First with our citizen star! Big applause!"
She dove in strong. No big expectations, but her chording looked properly trained.
Didn't lead melody aggressively, but gave trumpet playroom. Accompaniment specialist.
'Jazz piano's charm right there.'
Light, refreshing. Different allure from Mozart's playfulness. Nodding along, two songs ended.
"How do they play there? Not school, embarrassing."
"Experience builds performing for strangers. School sets those up often, right?"
Kim Ju-hee marveled; Lee Seong-hyuk eyed me grinning. Why's he smirking?
"Our members look thirsty still!"
After citizen pianist returned, band pianist grabbed mic again.
"Just one more! Any citizen for a real jam with us?"