God of Piano

On the subject of wanting to quit the piano just because he lacked musical talent right away, would he have been able to handle Beethoven’s situation?

My heart is full. The more he understood Beethoven’s adversity, the more he thought about how much courage it took him to continue his music, the more Rowoon could not help but feel his heart swell as he listened to this performance.

Beethoven’s playing was nothing short of a revelation in itself. Music is such a beautiful thing. It is worth dedicating Beethoven’s life to. So, so do you.

Every time Beethoven’s fingers brushed the keys, Rowoon felt his hair turn white as if he had been electrocuted. Every sound he wanted to express contained what Rowoon dreamed of.

And when the first movement is over,

When Beethoven’s world got farther away and Rowoon’s world appeared again,

Rowoon couldn’t even think of wiping the tears from his face and could only stare at the ceiling in a daze.

Oh, how beautiful is music.

How much patience did Beethoven have to go through before he said he was music?

Rowoon, when will he be able to say that? i say music

After countless thoughts passed by, Rowoon managed to adjust the frequency and access Beethoven’s channel. And Beethoven asked in a quiet voice.

[How was it? ]

“I am more confident.”

[ What sure? ]

“Confidence in what I have to do.”

[ What are you going to do? ]

Rowoon replied in a firm voice.

“I will let the world know your voice.”

okay. That was Rowoon’s responsibility.

As a man blessed with a Walkman, he was obliged to once again let the world know the sound of Beethoven, or Beethoven and all other musicians.

Just as Beethoven’s talent made him unable to give up music until the end, just as he couldn’t give up his life,

Rowoon painfully realized that even if he was going to die, he had a burden he had to carry.

And, I didn’t like that burden.

[I would have said. ]

Beethoven said in a sullen voice.

[ Moonlight can only be moonlight when I play. Do you think you can make that sound? ]

“Of course I can’t be Beethoven.”

Rowoon admitted it plainly. No matter how many times the journal is replayed, Rowoon cannot become the same as Beethoven.

“But I can be like you.”

A normal Beethoven would have snorted at that remark, or rather reacted with resentment. He asked if he understood the weight of the words.

But this time was different. Unlike usual, Beethoven laid his voice seriously.

[It will be heavy. ]

“I was determined.”

[ ······okay. ]

Was it because I felt sorry for my junior who was trying to walk the same path as me? Beethoven’s voice sounded somewhat bitter.

[Then, walk. that way. ]

“yes. teacher!”

Rowoon replied vigorously.

First of all, from this stage.

The moonlight that no one can play except for Beethoven,

I need to let the world know what that light feels like.

＜ Moonlight (8) ＞ End

＜ Moonlight (9) ＞

“······hmm.”

In front of the hallway of the practice room. Emil listened as he stroked his short beard. Beethoven’s moonlight was heard. The moonlight that is so familiar, yet somehow sounds strange.

Beside Emile, Jen opened her mouth with her eyes closed.

“Isn’t it different?”

“… Well, it’s because that guy’s characteristic is that he’s different from others.”

“It’s a performance that Beethoven would be happy to hear.”

“……Yes, I will be delighted.”

Emil meekly accepted Jen’s praise. Denying this was even more embarrassing. Rowoon’s performance was unique. It’s not just shining between them. He had a blue light that would never fade, even if thrown among the pros.

“Careful. that sound.”

“Steal it. Don’t you know?”

“Stealing won’t make it my voice.”

People who don’t understand classical music often talk like that. What is the meaning of playing the same song over and over again? Severe people even say that the title of ‘artist’ is not appropriate for them. That’s why they don’t create their own music.

Emil honestly understood what they were saying.

Musicians are people who live a life that can look very foolish depending on how they look at it.

He has enough talent and passion to make his own music, but is busy praising the music of people who died more than a hundred years ago.

Yes, I must confess, Emile was exhausted. I heard a meeting

Beethoven did Beethoven’s music, and Chopin did Chopin’s music. And all the musicians he respects are those who have done their own music. But Emil, he, why is he busy retracing their music instead of doing his own music with them, saying he respects them?

— You’re not that kind of virtuoso are you? If you have the confidence to do so, would you try it? Change to the music department. So is it okay?

One of my friends gave me that answer back. Of course, it would not have been an answer given after thinking deeply. Considering that that friend was also a pianist, it may be that Emil’s question, which made their path meaningless, made them uncomfortable, so they answered more harshly.

Even so, that answer was nailed deep in Emil’s heart like a nail.

yeah i wasn’t sure

I respect them, but I have no confidence to become like them.

When I was young, I thought it was natural to follow their shadows, but now I am asking myself questions.

Does this really make sense?

If Beethoven, Chopin, or Mozart faced him now, would they love him?

Shall I tell you that you are a decent musician like us?

It’s a question no one can answer. But Emile’s young, ugly self answers the question. no. I don’t think so.

A mimic is only an imitator after all.

‘······But why don’t you feel like a mimic?’

So, Rowoon is strange.

When he plays, I think it’s real music.

Despite standing in the same imitator position, whenever Rowoon plays, it feels like the song belongs to him somewhere.

I think it’s a performance that only he can see.

why.

why?

In fact, the question is not only in Emil’s head. Artists usually pursue their own color, and when they pursue that color, they tend to want to create something that belongs only to them.

So, the moment you see someone who seems unique despite being an imitator,

The moment they see that image that they have longed for all their lives has come true…

All excuses lose their force.

“There is no point in stealing. I didn’t steal Rowoon’s performance.”

Jungwoo’s voice intervened between Emil and Jen. I don’t know how long he was there, but Jungwoo was staring at the practice room with his arms crossed.

Emil asked.

“If it’s not stolen?”

“I found it.”

Jungwoo talked as if he knew the answer.

“From the score, from the story, I knew what to play.”

Therefore, his performance reached the realm of art. It is not a mechanical reenactment, but it has become able to express itself.

“I know what you mean. Do you find it because you are trying to find it?”

“It is not easy. That’s why Rowoon is great.”

Jungwoo continued.

“Roun has a lot of talent. It’s like the sense of beat that handles rubato, and the same sense of pitch. But are there any of these guys who aren’t talented at that? We all have that talent. But what makes Rowoon different is that he has the ability to find the right answer better than anyone else.”

Strictly speaking, that wasn’t Rowoon’s talent. Rowoon is able to play the way he is now thanks to the Walkman more than half. The reason why you can know what kind of performance is ideal is because you have properly benefited from lessons through performance diaries and tuning.

But whatever the reason, the result is not different. Rowoon found the most ideal path for him to play and walked. So, in a way, it was good to say that Jungwoo’s words pointed out the most important part in explaining Rowoon’s value.

“And it seems that he has grown a few times through this tournament.”

“······This isn’t a game, it’s just leveling up?”

Emile grunted. I know that Rowoon is working hard, but nevertheless, I couldn’t stand the pain in my stomach when I saw Rowoon’s growth.

“I have to break it once in a while. That guy is sassy.”

“······you can do it?”