Chapter 60
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Learn or Imitate (1)
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My footsteps halted in front of the practice room door where Gyu-ri sunbae was.
I didn't rush inside right away. Instead, I stood there racking my brain, curious about how she'd react if I entered with a humble bow.
She'll probably get mad.
I had no desire to get scolded from the get-go, so I straightened up and opened the door confidently.
"I'm here."
As the door swung open, sunbae—who'd been lounging half-reclined—spun her chair around with a wave. Is this how she messes around when she's alone? A few sheets of sheet music lay scattered on the auxiliary desk beside her.
"You're here?"
Being so petite, even a standard office chair seemed to turn into a comfy armchair for her.
She let out a lazy drawl before braking with her foot and shot me a smirk.
"What's that in your hand? Looks like you were hanging out with friends."
"Oh, this?"
"And stop standing there. My neck hurts."
"Got it."
I pulled over a chair from the opposite side and sat down. Sunbae immediately snatched the instant photo from my hand.
"Ooh... Pretty girls. The long-haired one's Lee Ha-yeon, right?"
"You know her too, sunbae?"
"Everyone's been talking about her since Ye-won days. Who's your type? Lee Ha-yeon? The blonde?"
She giggled like someone binge-watching romance reality shows or dramas. I gave her a cool look from above.
"Show me the composition."
"Before that."
She gathered the messy sheets and tapped the desk.
"You don't know how the recital works, do you?"
"No, no one's explained it."
"The main competition is submissions. Not live performances."
"Submissions?"
"Yeah. Upload to your personal YouTube channel and submit the score. Composition majors usually do it that way."
I'd assumed 'recital' meant playing live, but nope. Then why need a performer at all? Just record it with MIDI and upload.
Reading my expression, she added,
"But there's a mid-recital."
"Where you perform live, right?"
"Yep. Composers performing themselves is banned unless it's something like duo piano. If I could play it myself, I'd have won everything already."
No need to respond to that. I kept asking questions.
"When's the mid-recital?"
"Next Friday."
"What? That's only ten days away!"
So, recital performance next week, then third evaluation the week after. This schedule was murderous.
"...Does the mid-recital count toward the evaluation?"
"It's 1:1 with the submitted piece evaluation."
"When did this become such a huge responsibility for me?"
"Hey, just don't run off mid-performance. The piece is solid—what's there to worry about?"
Sunbae shrugged and snorted. In moments like this, her rhino-horn-like confidence eased my burden, and I was grateful.
"On that note, from second year on, recitals happen every semester."
"Not sure if I'll be your performer next semester."
"Who asked you? So cocky."
"...Sorry. Go on."
"Anyway, they collect all the recital pieces from the year and vote on them."
"Got it."
"Top three get performed at the year-end concert."
"Ooh..."
I let out a long sigh of admiration, nodding vigorously.
"So first-years' pieces will be in the vote next semester too? Since they'll have their recital then."
"...Y-yeah."
"Oh, then your piece from last year must've made it, right? I'd love to hear it!"
"Hey."
I'd only asked out of genuine respect for the tiny giant before me.
Park Gyu-ri, of all people. Of course she'd placed.
But her glare was ice-cold.
"Can't you tone down the ass-kissing? Think I won't like you otherwise?"
"Did it... not place...?"
"Shut it."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Ahem. Anyway."
Smacking her lips, sunbae handed me the sheet music she'd been holding.
"I incorporated your feedback. Five theme melodies, added a few variations."
"You wrote it all new?"
"You think I'd study during exams?"
"Saying it like that, it doesn't sound off at all."
I flipped through the sheets quickly, tapping my thigh idly. It was like fitting notes onto a keyboard. This made it feel like I was truly 'performing' the piece, which secretly thrilled me.
"All good so far? Let's keep going. If the harmonies feel bloated like last time, or the modulations are awkward, or the texture forced, even a great theme goes to waste."
Sunbae crossed her legs and stared at me silently. I hadn't said anything wrong, but her blank expression was intimidating—I could barely meet her eyes.
"Right, you said you're weak on theory?"
"Yeah, a bit. Or... a lot..."
"You explain vaguely but toss around words like 'texture' just fine?"
"Huh?"
"Whatever. Which one's your favorite? Pick."
Even told to choose... this was tricky.
Four out of five were eerie, like perfect for a movie murder scene—gloomy, dark. Add sunbae's signature complexity and uniqueness, and you'd have the world's most theoretically perfect noise.
"Sunbae, let's skip the dark ones. Go bright. Happy vibe."
"The last theme?"
"Yes."
At least the last one started bright and energetic, uncharacteristically so for Park Gyu-ri.
Snickering, she snatched the sheet and picked up a pen.
"I was planning three modulations anyway."
"..."
In blunt terms, 'It starts like this, but it'll go dark twice anyway.'
"Three modulations in a five-minute piece? Won't it feel scattered?"
"Making it not scattered is the composer's job. I'll tweak it."
She'd only written scattered pieces so far... I swallowed the thought and watched her compose on the spot.
Does she always compose on paper like this?
Then what's the computer and synth in the practice room for?
"Don't you compose on computer, sunbae?"
"Pen and paper are an artist's... No, you think I'm weird too?"
"No, it's genuinely cool."
"..."
I'd praised her sincerely as I felt it, but she just ducked her head without replying.
Scribbling notes and slashing lines on staff paper is cool... but kinda.
Frustrating not hearing the melody as she wrote. Computer composing lets you hear it instantly.
"Sunbae, show me too. Or hum it."
Voicing my gripe as I approached, she whipped her head around with a growl.
"I said don't stand next to me when I'm sitting."
"Oh, sorry."
Less a growl, more a cat hissing.
I quickly fetched my chair and sat beside her. I could make out the melody from the notes, but her pauses for thought made watching boring.
"Sunbae."
"Busy. Don't talk."
"How long you busy?"
"Till the first modulation."
The room filled only with faint breaths, pencil scratches.
A bit boring.
"Sunbae."
"Quiet."
"...Sunbae."
"What."
"Is composing always this slow? Others do it zip-zip."
"Sigh... Who composes zip-zip?"
"Mozart. In the movie."
She slammed down her pen and glared fiercely.
"Listen up. Composing is fucking math. That 'Eureka!' melody-humming genius crap is all bullshit. Media's the problem."
"...Yes."
"Emotion's fleeting; reason's eternal. I compose purely rationally. Wait."
After her rant, she resumed composing.
Watching wouldn't teach me harmony stacking or note placement anyway. I killed time practicing the assignment piece on the nearby piano.
"Done. Prototype's about one-third."
Thirty minutes later, she approached and handed me the sheet. Two and a half pages of unfinished work. I scanned it quickly.
"Still complex... It's bright but not really; high notes sound more like nails on chalkboard than clear."
"Whoa, you get it? You can tell you've listened to music."
"..."
She beamed proudly, tapping my shoulder. 'See, we click' vibe—I didn't want to be lumped in.
That's why I said not to write like this...
A bit tricky, but strong thematic control made it click.
Bright energy emerged subtly, like a misty embrace. Theme: subtle anticipation.
I placed it on the stand, checked variations. Skeleton was solid, no big issues, but complex bits stood out disappointingly.
Compared to the virtuoso composers in my head.
"Sunbae, these four bars. Not like this... but this?"
I played my idea on the keys, comparing to the score.
"What? Play again."
"So, not this way... but this. Tease it before the big thud—easier to listen to, right?"
After two short plays, she grabbed eraser and pen, snatching the score.
She scribbled frantically, then showed the revised sheet, voice a bit flustered.
"This right?"
"Dit-dit-dan-dit... Yeah."
Here, it should descend embracingly for conviction in the coming modulation.
"Putting C on beat four here? Harmonic error."
"Really? Sorry I butted in..."
I scratched my head sheepishly. Flow might be good, but theory can't be ignored in comp exams.
"Back to original then."
"No, keep the change."
"Huh?"
"This bar's melody-independent from theme; ignore it. Adjust tempo around."
She stared through the score, resolute.
This time, her boldness left me flustered.
"Harmonic errors okay in comp exam?"
"Dissonance always bad? Same thing."
No retort. If she said so, it was.
"Do more, like that."
"Sunbae, I can if you want. But I'm clueless—just gut feelings. Treat as nonsense."
"That's why—more nonsense. Hurry."
I held back a whimper; she was dead serious.
I repeated for the rest: tame odd complexity, nudge toward familiar naturalness.
"Oh, here. Drops big right after modulation. Like tragic suicide."
"Intentional. Leave it?"
"Yeah, I like it. So contrast first theme—keep focus. Ascend sharp instead of descend."
"Lemme see."
I pointed, played original, then my tweaks repeatedly.
"Again. Again."
"This descend... like! This! Quick."
"Writing. Wait."
Watching her scribble blankly, it hit me.
She's notating after just two plays?
Her ear is insanely good...
She revised quickly, showed it.
"This?"
"Ttrut-trud-dun... Yeah."
"So, half-cadence here, not full. Unresolved bar, swap descending octave to ascending sixth?"
"Ah."
Ignoramus would call it alien; mix of known/unknown words was torture. Like broken translator mangling particles.
"Anyway, arpeggio ascend. Yes. Better than octave."
"Hey, you know theory? Perfect this time. Even kept minor sixth."
Her grudging praise took a beat to register.
Did she just compliment my theory knowledge?
"Nah, no way. I'll struggle for 60 on theory."
"Then explain this? You aced OST arrangement at entrance ceremony. You've got comp talent—I'll vouch."
That was just improv too. Didn't even remember how.
Park Gyu-ri vouching? Thrilling... but
I waved it off, shaking my head. No self-delusion.
Heard tons of music, so tweaks felt right. Composing new melodies? No way. Just padding her silk thread with cotton.
"Motif from Winterreise. So theory fitted."
"Schubert?"
"Yes."
"Which."
"No. 8. The galloping part."
"...Not similar."
Winterreise is an hour-long song cycle. Recalling by number alone? Impressive.
"Search German title—top video. Around 26 minutes, you'll catch it."
Beyond flustered, incredulous, she paced wildly before stopping abruptly. Sat, stared, dropped odd line.
"Hey, but I hate motifs."
"..."
"That's why I ditched Mahler last time."
Her face dead serious.
I knew she avoided motifs/references. But bluntly 'hate'? Curious why.
"Sunbae, why hate borrowing so much?"
"My music's mine. Don't wanna be childish."
"Hard not to be influenced. Liszt, Dvořák did."
"I wanna minimize it. And don't bring up others—what's that to me?"
"C'mon, broaden your mind a bit..."
"No. Hate it."
She turned away, grumbling petulantly.
Weird.
Why shun influence when she knows/hears more music than anyone?
Her potential and skill could net decent scores as-is.
Even without me, she'd grow into great composer, true to her principles.
But it's a shame.
Truly a shame.
Park Gyu-ri could craft far better music.
Just a smidge of popularity.
A teaspoon of familiarity as seasoning—classical fans would embrace her work easily...
But suggesting famous motifs bares teeth; hard for junior to push.
"Late. Wrap for today. I'll text when done."
"Oh, okay. Heading out?"
Not fully offended, she patted my pondering head fondly.
"Hey, good work today. Never thought I'd get comp help from a junior."
"Thanks..."
"I'm out first."
She packed quick, left.
Alone in quiet room. I sat at piano, sorting thoughts calmly.
"Hmm."
Recapped meeting, probed Park Gyu-ri deeply.
I gave two suggestions.
Second shot down, but first? Mild acceptance, even overriding minor harmonic issue.
To smooth complexity into natural flow.
Natural to me: from familiar pieces I hear daily.
She doesn't reject 'good is good' motto...
"Keep hiding it forever?"
I sighed deeply, laden with worry.
One thing I hadn't told her.
First suggestion stemmed from a super-famous piece's strong motif too.