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Episode 3. Practice Piece (3)
“after…”
Yoon Young-hoon let out a deep sigh as he looked at his own face reflected in the bathroom mirror.
There was some fatigue from parenting, but a bigger problem was unsettling him.
“Is the problem that the music isn’t coming out, or that my attempts are clumsy?”
Lately, no, for a long time now, he had been troubled by the musical ideas that just wouldn’t come.
He had majored in composition at the top university in South Korea, but…
Now, he was just an ordinary composition graduate.
“Is my ambition too great…?”
He was afraid that his desire to make music different from others might be holding his family back.
So, he decided to abandon his own unique color.
Music that people liked.
He studied popular music and tried to make good music, but…
Perhaps because he had been making classical, traditional-style music for so long…
The music he created ended up being neither popular nor classical.
“…Heeseong must be waiting.”
Even for the sake of his son waiting in the studio, Young-hoon decided to postpone his worries and comforted himself.
“Abba ! Ugh!”
Thump! Clatter!
What Young-hoon saw upon opening the studio door was Heeseong shouting and tapping on the electronic piano.
Perhaps because he had been exposed to music since infancy, Heeseong excessively loved Yoon Young-hoon’s studio.
Just seeing the child smiling brightly and tapping the keys made him happy.
“Son~! Did you wait long? Now, let’s listen to the song daddy made!”
“I-eh!”Yoon Young-hoon picked up Heeseong, who was sitting in the baby chair.
Sitting at the keyboard, he placed Heeseong on his lap and whispered softly.
“Now, let’s focus on the song. Okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good, good. Our son answers so well.”Though still young, seeing Heeseong answer so clearly, Young-hoon smiled contentedly.
He reached out and placed his hands on the keyboard.
Tap.
He pressed the space bar.
And so, the music began.
‘Finally, I get to hear father’s music!’
I opened both ears wide with anticipation.
Tap.
With father’s gesture, the music began.
Ji-i-ng-♩
A low violin note stretched out long.
Starting with C, or ‘Do,’ the song generally gave a bright feeling.
The violin melody slowly played four notes without stopping.
Do – Sol – La – Fa-The note ‘Fa,’ tickling the chest, lingered long before slowly fading away.
A moment of stillness.
– Tan-ttaran-♪
The piano strings announced they were different from the initial violin.
Then, a feast of instruments entering all at once.
The calmness of the acoustic guitar crying out from the right.
The dignified depth of the cello whispering ‘I’m here’ from the left.
Even the intensity of the timpani and snare drum in the center, urging them forward together.
A sound different from what I expected unfolded.
Carrying the other instruments on its back, the piano began to show off.
The high notes Do Re Mi ran swiftly.
‘It might not be this kind of scene…! But I want to feel it this way.’
Sometime, a past sight I had seen began to surface.
My own figure, busily taking a carriage to go play the piano.
I recalled that luxury, uncomfortable because I had never enjoyed it before.
Children looking with envious eyes, men spitting with jealousy, and the sound of music drawing closer.
Father’s music probably held only father’s own memories.
I accepted such music with my own memories.
The piano’s melody expressed people living hard lives.
That’s how I felt.
Seeing the shining carriage, they cursed with envy and jealousy, but…
It seemed to show those who burned their lives just to ride that carriage once.
In my memory, it was raining that day, making the gloomy streets glitter.
The classical music father made was enough to stimulate my memory.
‘So this is how father’s music feels.’
I also felt one more thing.
Just as the past in my memory was bright…
The society I would live in was also a very bright society.
Even if there were dark parts, people would erase the darkness with music.
I swung both arms, just like when listening to classical music.
I wanted to scream, but I held back.
The music was still continuing.
– Tan-tan-tan-♪
The instruments, running with different beats, suddenly ran with the same beat.
As if warning it would cut off, that something big was coming soon, it shook my heart.
And it was right.
‘Oh! What is this, it’s so good?’
If the previous melody was the introduction, now was the development.
The fast yet calm melody changed abruptly.
The melody, raised by one more note, made the heart beat a little faster.
I thought I understood what meaning father intended.
The melody began to change little by little.
Do became Mi. Sol became Si.
If it was an ordinary street until a moment ago…
Now it was an alley where vagrants lived.
Shouting women and elderly street gamblers were yelling.
– Bread-bap-♬
Brass.
Trumpets, trombones, horns, etc.—the brass expressed the anger of the street citizens.
The violin just calmly supported the piano from behind.
Like a coachman driving his carriage, ignoring them.
Where there are people expressing anger, there are also those who simply endure.
– Bam-!
All instruments produced the same note simultaneously.
And then, silence arrived.
‘Wow… Is this the music our father made?’
I was amazed by father’s music.
Based on my impression so far, he was a gentle person who always lost to mother, but…
Seeing him in his profession, he seemed completely different.
The introduction and development could be seen as entirely different pieces of music.
But it wasn’t time to be amazed yet.
The piece was still continuing.
– Jiing-♩
The violin solo continued once more.
It was a note quite different from the prelude.
A Sol lower than Do sprang out of the speakers as if spitting.
The violin melody, as if trying to say something, was calm yet sorrowful.
‘What… is it trying to say?’
There must be something father intended to convey in this piece.
I don’t know what father experienced, but I accepted the piece in my own way.
Just as I had accepted the piece before the violin solo continued.
Imagining scenes from the past, I savored the piece.
Because what I saw fit perfectly into the piece, I could enjoy it.
It was the same now, but the atmosphere was too different.
If the introduction and development were memories of riding inside the carriage…
The violin solo evoked memories of falling out of the carriage.
The slowly continuing violin melody.
Just gloomy and sorrowful.
A melody that didn’t match the first half at all.
It was so dark it felt suffocating.
I couldn’t hear any of the subsequent development.
The latter half and conclusion were splendid.
However, that violin solo was so dark that nothing after it registered.
“Son, how was it? Was it okay?”
Father asked with a slight smile.
His eyes trembled slightly, seeming somewhat anxious.
‘How should I say this…?’
It was hard to say something.
Still, I could understand what state of mind father was in now.
Having completed the piece, but there was something ambiguous about it.
Yet not knowing where that something was—that kind of feeling.
Father was at that crossroads now.
The best way to solve such a dilemma is to let others listen.
Like a novelist showing their writing to others.
The one who best solves a creator’s dilemma is another creator.
And I was a creator who had been creating music for nearly 30 years.
“Ham, Habu!”
I turned my head and looked at father.
“Huh?”
Father expressed his puzzlement.
Well, because right now I was moving with actions instead of words.
I thrust my small hand toward father’s face.
This small hand hardly followed my will.
What I wanted was to raise my index finger.
In other words…
“Ah, you want to listen one more time?”
Father understood my words perfectly.
That’s our father for you.
“Okay, just a moment.”
Father clicked the keyboard and played the music once more.
I focused until the violin solo part arrived.
The piece began to flow.
Passing the calm road, reaching the noisy commute, and soon the violin solo began.
‘Not yet, not yet.’
The more I concentrated, the longer the violin melody seemed to stretch.
One note stretched like taffy, continuing without breaking.
Passing that one note…
‘Now!’
The point I wanted had arrived.
– Dang-!
A high Do.
On top of the low, calm violin melody, a piano note violin down.
This was what I wanted.
I placed a spoonful of a bright note on top of the gloomy sound.
Father would understand that one note that would melt the stifling atmosphere.
“You shouldn’t hit the piano so carelessly.”
However, father firmly grabbed both my hands.
It seemed he thought it was a dissonance interrupting the flowing music.
“Ugh.”
I whined in regret, but there was nothing to be done.
This was, after all, father’s music.
I was merely a listener.
The music continued and reached its end.
“Son, how was…? Oh my. Our son keeps making daddy move. Here, let’s go change your diaper.”
I was still one year old.
No one would know how mortifying this was.
Regrettably, the music appreciation session with father ended like this.
“Did Heeseong do well without crying?”
Shin Ji-eun, Hui-sung’s mother, returned home late at night after finishing her outing.
In her hand was pig’s trotters, her husband’s favorite food.
“Yeah, he just fell asleep. So, shh. Let’s eat the pig’s trotters quietly.”
“The pig’s trotters come first?”
“I haven’t eaten properly all day today, so please understand.”
“Alright. I’ll just wash my hands and come.”The two enjoyed a late dinner.
The musician couple always exchanged stories about music.
Just as stories of the past bloomed when drinking soju with pig’s trotters, so did they.
Clink.
A transparent friction sound resonated between the two.
“Is your composing going well lately?”
“No, there’s no one left to listen to my music now.”
“Why not! I’m here, and Heeseong is here.”
“That’s right. We have our family.”Yoon Young-hoon downed his soju in one go.
The bitterly pungent scent of alcohol shot up through his nose.
Then, suddenly, the events of the afternoon came to mind.
“Right. I worked in the studio with Heeseong today.”
“I doubt it lasted even 10 minutes.”
“Yeah. Listened to the song twice and then came right out of the studio.”
“Huh! There’s no way Heeseong would stay still in the studio.”Shin Ji-eun chuckled as she wiped away a tear that had peeked out.
She had to suppress her laughter with a Whoosh-Whoosh because Heeseong might wake up.
Young-hoon had expected that, but he didn’t think he’d have to leave the studio right after listening to the song twice.
“The kid said he wanted to listen again, so I played it…? But do you know what our Heeseong did…?”
Suddenly, lightning struck Young-hoon’s mind.
The piano note that sounded during the violin solo kept swirling in his head.
He thought it was a sound made by the child accidentally while waving his hands, but…
For some reason, it didn’t seem like an accidental sound.
“What did he do? Why are you like this?”
“Wait… just a moment. I’ll go to the studio and come back. You eat first.”
“Huh? What’s going on?”Yoon Young-hoon hurried into the studio.
He even muffled his footsteps, worried the child might wake.
Quietly but urgently opening the studio door, he put on headphones.
He quickly turned on the computer and launched the music composition program.
Tap.
Pressing the keyboard to start playback, the song he made played clearly in his ears.
It was a piece composed with the motif of the busy life of a modern person.
Therefore, it was radical, with melodies and rhythms changing frequently.
And the highlight was the gloomy violin solo.
It was a part expressing the depression of modern people, but it was too depressing.
It could be said to be the most important element in this piece, but…
The problem was that the more you listened, the more stifling and suffocating the air felt, tightening around the throat.
However, Young-hoon couldn’t give up the violin solo, which was like acrid cigarette smoke and fine dust.
“Can I change this melody with just one note of the piano?”
Even after nearly 20 years of making music…
He didn’t know how the note the child accidentally played would change things.
Heeseong’s face appeared vividly in Yoon Young-hoon’s mind.
“It’s an accident, but thanks to Heeseong.”
Even if it was done on purpose, it didn’t matter.
The fact that the note touched by the child’s small hand changed Young-hoon’s piece remained unchanged.
– Jiing-♪
The stifling violin melody continued.
It felt like walking through a city alley under heavily overcast skies, terribly gloomy.
– Dan-♬
Then, a bright dan- of the piano sound spread through the dreary city.
Sunlight began to descend through the dark clouds.
Young-hoon felt this light was shining on the child.
Therefore, as a father, Young-hoon couldn’t stop his smile of joy.
“What were you up to? So you were composing?”
A figure appeared, interrupting Yoon Young-hoon, who was immersed in composition, smiling brightly like a child.
“Ah, Ji-eun-ah, w-when did you get here…?”
“You suddenly went into the studio. I came in secretly? About 10 minutes ago?”
“R-really? You should have just eaten the pig’s trotters first…”
“How could I eat it all without you? So what were you doing?”Yoon Young-hoon avoided the sharp gaze of Shin Ji-eun, who was looking at him with arms crossed, and recounted the events of the afternoon.
Listening to music with Hui-seong.
And how the noise the child made during the process led to a result that improved the piece.
After hearing all of Young-hoon’s story, Shin Ji-eun asked a very simple question.
“Can I listen too?”
“Of course, sure. Here.”Yoon Young-hoon, with a bright smile, took off the headphones he was wearing and placed them on Shin Ji-eun’s head.
At his question asking if she was ready, she nodded slightly.
Tap.
The music began.
Shin Ji-eun closed her eyes and focused on the feast of instruments reaching her ears.
The violin solo continuing amidst the performance of instruments helping each other.
The piano subtly aided that solo, which looked so lonely.
And so, the piece, long yet short, ended.
Shin Ji-eun took off the headphones almost as soon as the music ended.
Then, with bright eyes, she said:
“You’ve finally returned.”
“Huh? Returned what?”
“It’s something I always felt whenever I watched you from the side. Young-hoon, you only wrote ambiguous pieces.”
“Uh, yeah.”Yoon Young-hoon gulped.
The fact that Shin Ji-eun called him by his name instead of using terms like ‘you’ or ‘honey’ meant…
She intended to address him with the mindset of a singer, a musician.
Therefore, Young-hoon had no choice but to listen intently to Ji-eun’s critique.
“But not now. Young-hoon, your own color is thickly embedded. But it’s not classical.”
“Then…?”
“It’s the music I like. And it’s definitely music that other people will like too.”Ji-eun’s critique, endlessly serious when it came to music.
It was short and impactful, making it the best critique for Yoon Young-hoon.
“Really… that’s a relief.”
His voice was slightly choked.
Naturally.
Until now, he had denied his own music as not being music.
But faced with the sincere critique from someone more precious than himself, he couldn’t help but get choked up.
Shin Ji-eun didn’t forget to tease Yoon Young-hoon like that.
“Hey, why are you crying? Even Heeseong doesn’t cry much, what do we do if you cry?”
“Ma’am, please be quiet.”The two bickered as they continued their music work.
When some time had passed…
Ji-eun, peacefully working on music like in the past, suddenly recalled a child who wasn’t there.
“To think Heeseong solved your dilemma. Really, our family seems like a blessed family.”
And so, the night of the family connecting through music gradually deepened.
