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chapter 23
The morning after the Korean International Music Competition had ended,
Instead of resting on a bright Sunday, Song Min-woo woke up early and walked along the streets, following the map on his phone.
“Let’s see… this is supposed to be nearby, right?”
The reason he was wandering the streets so early was simple:
He was here to find a piano.
“If you need a piano, this is the place. Stop by when you have time—tell them I recommended you, and you’ll probably find a good piano.”
It was the music store Professor Lee Jung-hoon had recommended after yesterday’s awards ceremony.
Recalling the professor’s strong insistence that he at least visit once, Song Min-woo felt a rising anticipation and quickened his pace.
However…
“…this location feels… weird?”
The closer he got to the address on the map, the more it felt like he was entering a back alley. Considering that music stores are usually located in shopping districts, this place seemed unfamiliar.
Even after racking his memory for the area he grew up in, he couldn’t recall ever coming here.
‘The address isn’t wrong… right?’
Could it be that Professor Lee had given him the wrong location?
Either way, he was almost there. Better to check directly.
Passing the neighborhood shopping street, he turned the corner at an intersection. Across the street, slightly worn buildings caught his eye.
After passing those grimy facades and turning another corner into a narrowing alley, he found himself in a street he had never seen before.
‘So this place exists in this neighborhood…’
The alley had a strong nostalgic feel.
Perhaps it was just his personal taste, but he liked the old-fashioned atmosphere. Maybe because he felt like someone from long ago.
“Could it be there?”
[Resting Music Store]
As he wandered, taking in the back-alley scenery, the music store came into view.
It wasn’t just the building that stood out.
The faint melody of a piano grew clearer as he approached.
‘This is…’
Ravel?
One of the masters representing the late 19th century, Maurice Ravel.
He couldn’t recall the title exactly, but he felt he had heard the melody before and listened more intently.
‘No… similar, but different.’
It certainly had the feel of Ravel, but the details were all different. Could it be a little-known arrangement?
Trying to identify it, Song Min-woo racked his memory. The more he thought, the murkier the piece became.
If it were a work by a contemporary like Liszt or Mendelssohn, he might have recognized it instantly.
But Ravel’s era was the late 19th century—decades after Chopin. It wasn’t surprising that he didn’t know it well.
‘Is this really even Ravel?’
Perhaps it was a piece by another composer with a similar style.
In C major, in rondo form, with a subtle melancholy woven into the calm melody.
As the tragic tune continued…
[~~!]
“…Huh?”
Suddenly, the mood of the piece changed.
The key hadn’t changed—it was still C major.
The format hadn’t changed either. Only a slight variation, still in rondo form.
It was only a subtle, almost imperceptible nuance that altered the atmosphere.
And at that moment, the music abruptly stopped.
“Mr. Yoon! Calm down! Let’s at least talk…”
“The talking’s over. Find someone else.”
The voice came from inside the store: a slightly awkward Korean accent, rough, elderly-sounding.
Startled, Song Min-woo instinctively hid behind a utility pole.
At the same time, the store door opened, and two figures appeared.
‘That person… isn’t he the foreigner I saw yesterday?’
And who was the elderly man beside him? The owner of the store?
“Mr. Yoon, please reconsider. I really need the piano you tuned.”
“If you wanted my piano, you should have prepared the piece properly.”
“But how could I compose a piece I’ve never heard before?”
“That’s your problem, pianist.”
Song Min-woo didn’t know what had happened between them, but he could tell:
The foreigner was subordinate, and the elderly man was in charge.
“If you understand, leave. Don’t disturb my shop.”
With that firm remark, the elderly man entered the store, followed by the foreigner, sighing deeply.
“…Should I go back now?”
It was his first time seeing a store turn away a customer like that.
Judging by appearances, few customers would come anyway. He wondered if it was acceptable to drive them away so blatantly.
Song Min-woo leaned against the utility pole, contemplating whether he might also be refused.
But he couldn’t leave empty-handed.
‘They wouldn’t kick me out just for visiting.’
Surely the foreigner must have done something wrong.
Nervously, more so than on competition stage, Song Min-woo opened the store door carefully.
“Excuse me.”
The chime on the door rang, and the scent of aged wood and instruments filled his nose.
Inside, various pianos, sheet music, and musical accessories were displayed. Except for the pianos, all seemed a bit old.
Song Min-woo leaned in to examine them when a rough voice stopped him.
“You keep bothering people. If you want tuning, go elsewhere… Who are you anyway?”
“I’m a customer looking at pianos…”
“You know this place? How did you even find it?”
“Professor Lee Jung-hoon recommended it.”
The moment Song Min-woo mentioned the professor, the elderly man’s expression changed.
“He sent you?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm…”
Why was he staring so intently?
“Fine. Sit here for now.”
“Huh?”
The elderly man gestured toward a nearby piano.
Confused, Song Min-woo followed the gesture.
“Play something. Whatever you’re confident in.”
“Uh, now?”
“Yes, now. What are you waiting for?”
As Song Min-woo realized, the man’s temper was fiery.
Better not provoke him, or he might be thrown out like the foreigner.
‘Play whatever I want… There aren’t many pieces I can play confidently.’
Excluding his own compositions, only a few pieces could be performed perfectly. The most flawless was Liszt’s piece from the recent competition.
But he didn’t want to play a recently performed piece again.
So, excluding La Campanella, what could he play confidently…
‘…That’s it.’
Deciding, Song Min-woo placed his hands on the keys.
[~~~~]
The sound that emerged was purer than any lake.
Clear and pristine, he momentarily froze in awe.
‘Can an upright piano really sound like this?’
A piano produces sound when hammers strike the strings. No matter how delicately played, it usually retains some rigidity…
[~~~~]
Doubting himself, he pressed again—the sound remained endlessly smooth.
Clear and soft. Not a tremor, the keys felt as light as clouds. Every note perfectly in tune.
In short, this piano was perfect.
Compared to any piano he had encountered, this one was undoubtedly the best, impeccably tuned.
“What are you waiting for? Play!”
“Ah, sorry.”
Now he understood why the foreigner had begged for tuning—any pianist would be captivated by this perfect piano.
Collecting himself, Song Min-woo began playing again.
[~~~~]
The melody was like a prayer.
Lento Assai. Very slow.
Schubert’s Ave Maria, known to devout Catholics, arranged for piano, now reborn by a close friend.
Every note reflected steadfast faith, a remarkable feat considering Schubert’s later loss of belief. The friend’s deep faith in the piece shone through.
Combined with the perfectly tuned piano, it sounded like a celestial performance.
[~~~~]
As the climax approached, Song Min-woo thought of his late friend and concluded the piece.
Was that enough?
He glanced at the elderly man. To his relief, the man smiled faintly, satisfied.
“…You pass.”
Not applause, just a calm statement.
“Pass? You mean I’m—”
“You’re worthy of my piano.”
The elderly man inspected the piano’s interior as he spoke.
So, if unworthy, he wouldn’t sell it. What a unique store.
“Tuning will take some time. Come back next week; I’ll have it ready.”
“Tuning?”
“Yes. Any complaints?”
“No… it’s just that the previous customer was refused tuning, so I thought you wouldn’t do it.”
“I only refuse off-site tuning. For first-time buyers or those bringing pianos here, I tune without hesitation.”
Ah, that explains it.
But why refuse off-site tuning? Usually, it’s easier to go to the piano than have it brought in.
‘There must be a reason I don’t know.’
Everyone has their reasons; it’s unwise to pry.
“Alright, you can go. I have work to do.”
The distinction between customer and owner had completely blurred for Song Min-woo.
