Chapter 4: Sorrowfully 2
Kung.
“…”
The sound of the staffroom door closing rang from behind me. As I slowly exited onto the corridors, the eyes of the students that had been around gathered at me before soon dispersing. Giving them a few glances as well, I started to slowly carry my feet.
Corridors.
I could hear the sound of the students’ chattering resting near my ears as well as the sound of the wind knocking the windows, the chirping of the birds, and the sound of leaves rustling past.
Listening to those sounds with a smile, I thought back to what teacher Ku Mingi had said.
Me as a conductor…
A little grin came out. Jo Yunjae who had been waving his hands as a sub conductor with the little brats at a local cathedral succeeded in life, hey. Being scouted by the conducting department and all.
I imagined myself conducting before Lee Suh-ah and Kim Wuju but soon got rid of the image.
Conducting department.
It wasn’t that appealing.
To put it in words, it would be like, ‘me?’, ‘do I have to?’ or ‘why?’. I was attending a performing arts school because I loved singing not because I wanted success or fame. If I wanted money, I would’ve quit the school already and bought all the stocks for Future Electronics.
“Ah… I need to persuade my dad.”
After some thought, I shook my head.
In any case,
Although I had heard a lot of compliments from teacher Ku Mingi, I wasn’t particularly happy. Rather than a long compliment on my conducting abilities, a small superficial comment like ‘your song was good’ made me a lot happier.
Teacher Ku Mingi, did he mean that if I were to completely fail this concert, that he would send me over to the conducting department? That would be quite scary.
“Hmm– hhmm–”
Humming the song I would be performing in the concert, I paced towards the practice rooms.
Hmm… the only compliment that actually did ring my heart was the one about my ears but that was iffy as well. Did I really have good ears? I had never gotten such a compliment in my life before so even if I was told that, it sounded sarcastic and I couldn’t readily believe it.
Just to make sure, I went through the past in my library of memories. Along with the sound of books flipping past I remembered some slight memories of the past.
Ensemble.
There, I was a singing instrument no1. Closing my mouth, I had to sing when the conductor said so and keep it closed otherwise. I was not in a position to tell others off. More like I was on the receiving end of it and had to make sure my sound wouldn’t interrupt others’ singing.
All the executants and musicians standing in an ensemble were pros so I wasn’t senior enough to give them advice either. It’s also not respectful towards the conductor.
Was that why my ears had no chance to shine? I don’t know. Ah, but I do remember hearing that I was quick at adapting to choruses – that I was good at mixing my sound into others’ sounds…
“Hmm…”
Going further back I went back to the university days.
Music University.
I, who had crammed through by self-studying, was an under-achieving student that lacked in everything. Throughout highschool, I studied by myself with only the words from teacher Kwak Jungsoo as the guideline so it was natural that I was lacking compared to other students who had stepped through elite courses.
In particular, the theory, detail, languages and p.r.o.nunciation that were difficult to study alone were way below average. Italian, German, French, English… how many languages did we have to learn? I practised them so much that later it felt strange to sing in Korean.
“Huhuh…”
Thinking back on those days, I felt a smile escape.
The days of music university – they were extremely busy but were enjoyable. I was so happy that I could sing and I could at least feel myself gradually getting better, so there was the hope that I was reaching ever so closer to my dream.
After practising crazily like that, I was soon made to face my limits.
“…”
My thoughts started to turn.
Limits.
Although I did sing for more than 20 years, I was only able to develop my skills during the first 10 years, only when there were teachers to guide me through the way. After leaving the university and performing as a pro, my skills were stuck without showing any signs of development. It was as if someone had drawn a line above my head.
I started to detest the exact same sounds I would make in the practice rooms after a stuffing session of choruses. Even if I wanted to receive lessons, teacher Kwak Jungsoo was busy overseas and I had no chance to meet him.
But now, it was different.
Raising my head, I glanced over the surroundings and could see lots of high-cla.s.s rooms around me. A building with dozens of practice rooms, and as long as one was a student, they could use these freely.
On top of those, I had a trustworthy teacher, Kwak Jungsoo as well as the overflowing practice times with him, other professional music teachers and great executants that I could compete with. In this Future Arts High,
I would be able to develop further.
Look, even today, wasn’t I able to find a good talent that I did not know of? With a bright smile, I pushed open the door of a reserved room, and the room filled with soundproof walls came into view.
A practice room.
And the teacher.
I stood there staring at teacher Kwak Jungsoo which made him tilt his head.
“What are you doing, standing still”
“Right. I was making a vow…”
“A vow?”
“I thought that I must practise hard.”
“What, did you not practise? Even if you say that I won’t let you off.”
“Of course not.”
Grinning at the teacher that gave me stern warnings, I walked into the practice room. When I entered, the smell unique to practice rooms swiftly came into my nose – the strange smell of soundproof material; the smell of old piano; the smell of practice rooms. That humid and yet warm smell.
Breathing that in made me feel a lot more relaxed. It felt like I was returning to my hometown, and in that stableness, all sorts of side thoughts floating in the head were cleanly organised.
I should make a report first.
Although I had no intentions to move to the conducting department, I should still report to the teacher. Taking off my jacket and placing it nearby, I opened my mouth to talk about this and that.
“Sir, today I…”
It felt like I was showing off and was a little embarra.s.sing but I still talked without hiding a single thing. From how teacher Ku Mingi called me, to how he complimented me a lot – especially my ears – and that he had asked whether I would like to go to the conducting department or not but that I had no such thoughts… I told him everything.
Hearing up to there, teacher Kwak Jungsoo gave a slow nod.
“Right. You were always good with expression and a.n.a.lysis. Now I can see that it was because your impressions were deeper and wider than others. It’s a good thing as an opera singer.”
“Ah…”
Being complimented by teacher Kwak Jungsoo made my body twist. Ah, my body’s seriously not good with compliments and I felt like I would get rashes.
I quickly changed the topic.
“Then what would be the best way to develop that ability? In terms of opera that is.”
“Hmm… Opera…”
After scratching his chin, teacher Kwak Jungsoo soon opened his mouth.
“The first thing that comes up in my mind is to a.n.a.lyse others’ songs a lot to make that your own. Because you will be able to grasp more numbers of and more important details than others. You can attend lots of concerts from now to write evaluations. And… it would help when you record and listen to your own singing. But you’re probably doing that already…”
Concert, recording my voices and notetaking.
Seeing me who was diligently nodding my head, the teacher gave a nod.
“Think of the other things later on and for now, just sing that Magic Flute one one more time.”
“Yes.”
It was a sudden change but neither the teacher nor I were startled by it. I quickly straightened my posture and began singing as the words that had already been stamped into my brain started pouring out automatically.
Dies bildnis ist bezaubernd schön, this portrait of magical beauty
In the middle of my song, he stopped it.
“Stop.”
“…”
Licking my lips, I waited for the teacher’s evaluation as he stared directly at my face before giving a smile.
“It’s a lot better, now you can stand in line for the roller coaster.”
Ohh.
As if reminding me to not get carried away, he pointed something out while I was smiling.
“But there are still lots of places where the legato is broken. It’s due to the cla.s.sic lack of breath… have you practised a lot?”
“Yes.”
Glancing down at my stomach, he crossed his arms and opened his mouth.
“Hmm… right. You look like you have the breath that fits your build. It’s around the level of an average student now.”
Average, huh.
Indeed, I felt like the times where I lacked breath were extremely fewer than before. Perhaps it was because my initial standard was super low, but it didn’t take a long time for me to reach average.
I was nodding when he finished his words.
“And the fact that you’re still lacking breath means that the problem lies within you.”
“…”
Me?
After a deep contemplation with his gaze towards the skies, he organised his thoughts and opened his mouth.
“You’re using a singing method that strangely uses a lot of breath. Because you’re opening your throat wide with each expression being heavy, you’re using more breath than other people. That’s why even in these songs, your legato is broken and phrasing is in ruins.”
He continued up to here before looking over with a curious expression.
“Is it really self-studied? It is definitely not something naturally gained.”
“…”
Well, it wasn’t naturally gained after all. Staring at me who had words but no mouth, he shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, it’s not a wrong method but usually when self-learning, it is more natural to find expressions that fit the person, but your skills seem like they were built on the basis that your lungs were ma.s.sive like mine. That’s why like baggy clothes, your breaths are not able to keep up.”
The teacher concluded.
“In one sentence, you’re too greedy. Your max mana is 10 and you’re using skills that use 5 mana left and right, so how long would your mana last you for? Use a more efficient singing method that fits your body. Having a big body isn’t everything in opera. You can tell from just seeing Jo Sumi.”
“…”
A flash of comprehension pa.s.sed through my head.
Right.
I was different from the future.
Before coming back in time, I was an opera singer with over 180cm in height with twice the size I was right now, but currently, I was only a small boy that had just gotten into opera.
With a gaze downward, I stared at my stomach. From the short 3 weeks time, it had gotten slightly tougher but compared to 20 years in the future, it was a feeble body with resonating chambers that couldn’t be compared.
Would I be able to express large sounds resembling the mountain ranges or communicate the deep waters of the ocean?
No.
But I can express the flapping of b.u.t.terflies; I could whisper the emotions of lovers. Things that can’t be expressed with large resonances – those subtleties can be made with this body.
Without understanding the fact that small bodies had their own use, I was just struggling to return to the past.
Lowering my head down to the ground, I saw the large shadow of the teacher enveloping me. Teacher Kwak Jungsoo – perhaps I was chasing after this person who was the foundation of my singing too much.
Raising my head back up, I opened my mouth.
“I’ll try a.n.a.lysing it again.”
He raised his lips in response.
“Alright.”
Slowly posturing myself, I stood in front of the teacher as he sat quietly with his eyes directly pointing at me. In front of that, I decided to start from the very beginning, to build the foundation of my expression back up from scratch.
I drew in a deep breath before letting it back out.
“Fuu–.”
One breath. I examined the amount of air I had in one breath. It wasn’t much, and like a little pond of water scooped up with two hands, it was shallow and small.
But this was enough.
Slowly, I squeezed out the breath as thinly and as long as possible.
“Ah–…”
I concentrated my all into my ears to the slightly changing timbre and tried matching the amount of breath that was required for that timbre.
Sometimes a drop of breath at a time, and sometimes it escaped like a little creek. I tried letting go of it so delicately that it might be stopped at any time, and also tried pressuring it out like a fountain.
Humming a few songs in that state, I could understand how much of a breath I had been consuming before. Right, that was a waste. More than anything, it was an expression that did not suit a 17 year-old Jo Yunjae.
Hearing my own voice that travelled into my ears, I added a subtle rearrangement into my vocalisation. An expression that fit this adolescent and soft timbre – in search of that, I continued restructuring the inside of the mouth before flashing my eyes open.
“I’ll now sing.”
“…”
In front of the teacher sparkling his eyes.
I opened my mouth.