The eyes, which one would have sworn were brown, were rather blue-green when viewed up close.
The thin man—who seemed to weigh less than fifty kilos—had pale skin, but long, beautiful hands.
Frédéric spoke to the young Soo-hyun, who stood by his side:
"Let's start by practicing how to sit in the center. The center is when the lock below the keypad is right at the height of the navel. Shall we sit down?"
Soo-hyun settled in the center, following the directions.
'Without realizing it, I'm hunched over. The piano is so big that it overwhelms me...'
Frédéric patted him gently on the back to help him straighten up.
"They say that you have to sit with the correct posture so that beautiful sounds come out. Our Soo-hyun... do you want to make sounds as beautiful as these old men's?"
"Yes!"
"Then let's sit down well. He straightens his back but puts his navel a little inwards... that the stomach does not protrude."
Frédéric's stance seemed simple, but it was difficult to sustain.
'Soon I start to lose strength in my back, and my stomach starts to hurt. Without realizing it, I bend my back again...'
Frédéric smiled and said:
"It's going to be a little bit difficult until you get used to it. But I won't make you practice more than three hours a day, so hold on for that long. Okay?"
"Yes."
Frédéric's classes were very quiet. Calm, like their way of being.
His speech, soft and calm, seemed made to teach children.
That day, I learned basic scales with him.
'It's not fun just to press keys when you don't know anything...' 'But if someone like him explains it to you, even if it's a note... It feels like you have a secret that's just beginning.'
"I told you to raise your wrist in the air and move only your fingers as you went over the basic scales one by one," Frédéric said, taking a step back.
"Let's start with the right hand. It goes up from low C to high C... and then it goes down. Do you have to press your fingers as the old man tells you? If you start badly, it's hard to correct it later. Even this old man has a hard time because he played out of habit when he was young, haha."
Frédéric gave him the mission and stepped aside.
Soo-hyun, who was left alone in front of the piano for the first time, carefully raised her right hand and pressed a key.
Cresta...
The sound was louder than I expected.
Soo-hyun shuddered slightly in surprise, and then pressed the next note more cautiously, almost making no noise.
At first, everything was weak, small, slow. But little by little, the rhythm accelerated, and the sound gained body.
Even for a child, playing all eight notes wasn't especially difficult. But to make them sound with intention... That was another story.
Frédéric took a step back and approached Franz, who was leaning on another piano. He asked him in a low voice:
"Do you have any textbooks?"
Franz shrugged his shoulders and folded his arms.
"How is there going to be something like this here? Have you forgotten what kind of people are in this place?"
"Ah... true. So, what do I do...?"
Franz thought for a few seconds, and then said:
"Remember that textbook we used to show our young students when they were in their 30s? The one we said they practiced at home since they were little..."
Frédéric, after a moment's search in his memory, murmured:
"Ferdinand Beyer's textbook?"
"Well, he was German. When I first saw it, it seemed too simple. But when considering it as a beginner's book, I found it quite good. It has a lot of exercises that avoid sharps and flats."
"Ah, I remember. It was probably called Bayer, right?"
"I heard that there is a child version and a normal version."
"But isn't that a book that anyone can use? If we use it with the children we teach, they might end up sounding standardized."
"Well... and how about the book by the Frenchman Charles-Louis Hanon?"
"It serves to relax the hands, but it is not pretty at all. I think his name was Hanong."
"Mmm... Many young students use it."
"Soo-hyun is a girl that you and I are going to educate. I don't want to give him a formal education."
After hearing those words, Franz thought for a few seconds. He then sat down next to Soo-hyun, who was still practicing patiently.
"Soo-hyun. What do you think of this song? Listen to it."
From the hands of the legendary Franz Liszt flowed Bayer's music – the kind that is normally only heard in local piano schools.
But of course... when someone like Franz interprets it, the score is transformed. It was vibrant. Ironic. Great.
Soo-hyun stared at Franz's hands until the music faded away. Then he said, without hesitation:
"It seemed easier than what the old men did."
"Really? And what did you think of the song? Is it fun?"
"No."
He hears Frédéric burst out laughing.
Franz looked at him, pouting theatrically.
"Hey, stop laughing. You have to think of an alternative! Are you going to teach without a textbook?"
Frédéric smiled... But he was also struggling inside.
Franz looked at him for a moment, then turned his gaze to Soo-hyun:
"How about this?"
When he began to play Hanon No. 6, Soo-hyun's eyes widened, perhapsbecause of the speed of the rhythm.
Franz, noticing this reaction out of the corner of his eye, stopped playing and asked:
"Is it fun?"
"It's fast and fun... but I don't like it at all. Is that music too?"
Franz's shoulders sank with a sigh.
Teaching boring classes is hard work, even from the teacher's point of view...
"Well... Yes. It's music. But in reality, it was composed as an exercise..."
"Sir, is there no music?"
"Huh? I'm a pianist."
"And a pianist can't make music?"
Franz's forehead furrowed softly, and for a moment, he didn't know what to answer.
'Couldn't I make music?'
… No.
He also dreamed of being a composer. In fact, he composed songs.
However, seeing the public's enthusiasm for his performance, Franz changed course and became a professional artist.
In comparison, his friend Frédéric composed many songs. At times, Franz couldn't help but be envious of him.
At that moment, he heard his friend's voice:
"Good idea. We can create our own textbooks. What do you worry about, when you and I are here?"
Franz's eyebrows arched... And then a smile slowly spread all over his face.
'This little boy has broken stereotypes that I never thought I would break in my life... and it only took him two days since he came to me.'
Franz smiled happily and turned to his friend:
"I'll definitely write a better song than you."
Frédéric, a man of few extravagances, raised his nose with silent pride, as if to say: "Come, try."
"Good luck."
"Tch, are you ignoring me?"
"Me? How could I dare ignore the legendary pianist Franz Liszt?"
Although he said it formally, his relaxed face and smile indicated that he felt comfortable... even confident.
Franz, frowning, looked back and forth between Soo-hyun and his old friend.
"Okay! Let's compose music together until tomorrow morning's practice time. You'll play yours; I'll play mine, and we'll let Soo-hyun pick the one he likes best to practice with. What do you think?"
Frédéric shrugged.
"Are you sure about that?"
After all,... is it okay to challenge Frédéric Chopin himself, the man who took the whole world breathless as a pianist... and as a composer?
Franz, wounded in his pride, waved his fist and said:
"Of course I do! Soo-hyun will choose me. And I don't want to see you crying tomorrow, grabbing me by the leg and begging me to teach you how to compose!"
"Haha, okay. I'll do what I can, too. But no cheating. You're not going to ask Soo-hyun what he thinks while you're composing, are you?"
"Of course! Tomorrow will be the first time I show my piece to Soo-hyun. I promise."
Frédéric smiled and nodded, serenely.
"Well, why don't you retire now? It's the first day that Soo-hyun sits in front of the piano. How much longer are you going to get in the way?"
Franz got up at once, embarrassed.
"Oh... I'm sorry."
Frédéric clapped softly as he addressed the boy:
"Okay, Soo-hyun? Now we'll do the same with both hands. The same note. Let's practice with the left on the first key to the left of the lock—the highest note at that end."
The forest, a place that seemed to have no other activity than music, vibrated softly under the morning sky. Luckily, Soo-hyun—who was smiling brightly and, to his surprise, found the piano increasingly charming—replied enthusiastically:
"Yes!!"
✴︎✴︎✴︎
The next morning...
Frédéric murmured, his eyes fixed on a sheet of music he held in his hands. He seemed unable to believe his eyes. His face reflected the full burden of the world's worries.
"I... I... the music of Frédéric Chopin... lost?"
The sound of a piano could be heard.
Franz's voice—enthusiastic, almost euphoric—echoed as he pointed to the part corresponding to his right hand:
"Hahahaha! Isn't our Soo-hyun a true genius? How did he dominate his right hand so quickly? Am I teaching a genius?!"
Franz, with a bright smile, rubbed his eyes, exaggerating his disbelief. Soo-hyun laughed at the funny expression.
Praise makes even a whale dance. And when a child hears that he is a genius, it is hard not to feel his heart swell.
Soo-hyun loosened his fingers, waved them energetically, and said as he let out the air:
"I made a mistake. Let me try again."
"Really? I didn't notice anything. As expected of our Soo-hyun, the genie! Come on, let's try it again! This time with his left hand. I only put one note per section to make it easier for you. Do you see?"
"Yes... But I think it might be a little difficult."
"Of course, at the beginning it is difficult! It was difficult for me too. But our Soo-hyun is a genius! I'm sure he'll get it right away!"
"Hehehe, yes! I'll try!"
Franz stared at her, smiling, while she strained her eyes and concentrated on the score. Then, he got up quietly and walked away.
He went to sit behind on another stool, where he gently patted his friend's back, who kept his shoulders slumped and his expression resigned.
Franz, with that winner's smile that did not fade from his face, enjoyed the scene... until Frédéric raised his head, frowned, and murmured dryly:
"You're committing a foul."
"Huh? Is that cheating?"
"That's not your song. It's your teacher's."
"Ah, did you know? But I was the one who transformed it so that the child could practice more easily."
"Your teacher, Carl Czerny, was a great teacher. If that was his method, it is natural that the child should accept it."
"But why do you say that? If you knew this piece, you shouldn't speak so lightly. The Étude de concerto Op. 1 No. 2 is a very difficult piece. Do you think it's easy to adapt it so that even a child can play it?"
Frédéric bit his lip. His friend was right.
Maybe it would have been easier to compose from scratch...
"Yuck..."
Franz's laughter grew deeper at the sound of that groan of defeat.
With joy, he patted him on the back:
"One day you will win too. Cheer up, composer of the century, Frédéric!"
But Frédéric, his eyes slightly red with anger, adopted an unusually somber expression.
"Tomorrow I will definitely win."
"Hahaha, really? Go ahead, I want to see it. I'm looking forward to it."
Franz spoke with apparent calm... but a cold sweat ran down his back. No one knew better than he did the true caliber of his opponent.
"If I want to win tomorrow, I'll have to stay up all night."
And the next day...
As usual, Soo-hyun arrived punctually at the clearing where the six zelkovas formed their silent stage.
What she did not expect was to see the elegant and always imperturbable knight Frédéric running towards her, shaking a piece of paper in his hand with emotion, as if carrying the score of destinies.
"Soo-hyun! I made you the best sonata! It's a piece that even a blind old woman with dementia could play! Today you will surely choose my piece! Hahaha!"
Frédéric made small leaps in the air, hitting his shoes with his heels as if he had just received a medal.
Soo-hyun, his brows slightly furrowed, cocked his face and whispered to Franz, who was standing beside him:
"Uncle Frédéric... was it like that originally?"
You could see—no, almost feel—how the energy left Franz's body, and he exhaled a dry, resigned laugh:
"Ha... yes... well... more or less."