With a bewildered expression, Geon Kim opened the dark brown door of Studio B.
Inside the studio, close to a hundred students had gathered, and there were more students sitting on the floor or leaning against the walls due to the shortage of chairs than those occupying seats.
At the front, on a small stage, three students were present. An Italian-looking boy with long black hair was tuning an electric guitar, while a diminutive African American student was plucking at an unplugged bass guitar. To the left, there was a golden YAMAHA 12-cylinder drum set, and surprisingly, a blonde girl was calculating beats while looking at the sheet music.
Geon had heard about the professor's statement through the assistant three days ago.
He had been thrilled as though he would leap with joy upon hearing that he would perform in the studio class with the submitted music scores. However, his excitement faded upon the assistant's following words. It wasn't about performing; it was about producing. Moreover, the revered professor Sharon Isbin, known for her classical guitar mastery, would personally perform his composition. The past three days had swiftly flown by for Geon, leaving him almost dazed.
As Geon moved towards the stage, Professor John Corigliano, who had been sitting in the front row with the students, suddenly stood up and extended his hand towards Geon. With a slightly surprised expression, Geon looked at the outstretched hand, and Professor Corigliano smiled before speaking.
"Are you Geon Kim, the student? I am John Corigliano, professor of composition."
Geon, taken aback, shook Professor Corigliano's hand.
"Oh, yes. Hello, Professor Corigliano. But... what brings the professor of composition and the students here?"
Professor Corigliano chuckled and crossed his arms.
"We reviewed the scores submitted by the students, including those in composition. Initially, the students grumbled about the studio class called on a weekend being an observation class for other departments. But as soon as they saw the scores, they were astonished and eager to observe. Haha."
Looking around at the students with a bewildered expression, Geon noticed that they were murmuring amongst themselves, casting glances at him. Especially among the female students, some blushed and turned away, unable to meet Geon's gaze.
With a laugh, Professor Corigliano placed a hand on Geon's shoulder and said, "You're quite the handsome lad. They say God is fair, but it seems that might not always be true, haha."
As Geon blushed and smiled, Professor Corigliano pointed towards the front of the stage.
"Alright, it's almost time for class to begin. Give final instructions to the performers on stage. They're playing without prior practice, so some basic guidance might be necessary, right?"
Geon nodded and ascended the stage, nodding slightly towards the electric guitar player, Fabio Marchetti, who had long black hair. Fabio, rising from his seat, politely bowed his head and said, "Nice to meet you. I'm Fabio Marchetti, playing the electric guitar. Just call me Fabio."
Geon extended his hand in greeting, and Fabio, shaking hands, smiled and said, "I tried playing the arranged piece. It's a fantastic arrangement, Mister. May I ask for your opinion on the volume?"
Observing the guitar, Geon said, "It's a Fender Stratocaster, Fabio. A great guitar. Please lower the volume to 2 or below with this guitar. It should give a sound that's audible yet elusive. Also, set the distortion to 4."
Puzzled, Fabio raised an eyebrow and asked, "Distortion? Do you mean you want distortion or gain? Adding distortion or gain might make the sound harsh. Are you sure about this?"
Geon nodded, "Yes, with a distortion gauge set to 4, it should produce an appropriate richness. While playing on the electric guitar, channel the emotion of 'birdsong.' Think of the birds on the mountains of Asturias."
Initially puzzled, Fabio, being the guitar genius from Italy, soon nodded and followed Geon's instructions. He stepped on the effects pedal, put on his headphones, and started practicing alone. Geon, now holding a bass guitar, chuckled as he looked at the African American male who had been watching him.
"Hello, I'm Geon Kim. I'll be in your care today."
The African American student flashed a bright smile, revealing his white teeth, and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Samuel Chandler. You can call me Sam."
Geon and Sam shook hands and then gestured to the female student observing from behind the drum kit.
"Hey, could you come over here for a moment with the drums and bass? Could you lend us a hand?"
The blonde girl approached, drumsticks in hand, and introduced herself. "Hello? You're Geon Kim, right? I'm here to assist with the drums and the professor. I'm Tindra Hagelund. I'm from Norway, just call me Tind."
Geon smiled and nodded slightly before showing her the music score. "Sam, you specialize in the contrabass, right? That's perfect. Please play it in the same technique as the contrabass. Set the volume to 3, without any distortion, with a clean sound. Tind, you have hickory sticks. Do you happen to have maple sticks as well?"
Tind nodded and adjusted the volume, putting on headphones. Meanwhile, Sam, after understanding the instructions, adjusted the volume without distortion and wore headphones. As Geon watched the three practicing, the door beside the stage swung open, and Professor Sharon Isbin walked in.
The students on stage removed their headphones and stood up as they saw Professor Isbin. She gestured for them to sit and then stood in front of Geon, saying, "Today, I'm in your hands as a performer, not as a professor."
Geon, visibly taken aback, waved his hand. "Oh, no, Professor. How could I direct a professor like you in producing?"
Professor Isbin smiled and took out her guitar. "On stage, the producer's authority is absolute. Today, I'm just one of the performers, so lead the way, please."
Professor Sharon sat at the front row of the stage, gently strumming her guitar with her eyes closed. John Corigliano, who had been sitting below the stage, stood up and looked back, shouting, "Alright, the studio class is starting. Students, please focus."
Once Professor Corigliano took his seat again and gestured towards Geon, Geon nodded in response.
"Let's begin the performance. The piece is 'Asturias,' Professor Sharon Isbin's version," Geon announced.
As Geon finished speaking, Sharon Isbin, who was supposed to start playing, looked intently at Geon before rising from her seat, grasping the neck of her guitar, and calling out, "Let me reintroduce it. The piece is 'Asturias,' performed by Geon Kim from Korea."
Geon, momentarily surprised, widened his eyes as he glanced at Professor Sharon. With a graceful smile, she lightly tapped Geon's shoulder and then sat back down, closing her eyes again.
After a while, while Sharon, with closed eyes, concentrated on her classical guitar, producing a beautiful and swift melody, Geon set aside his initial astonishment and closed his eyes, focusing on the performance. Indeed, there was no flaw in Professor Sharon's playing. About two minutes later, the electric and bass guitars joined in. Simultaneously, both Sharon and Geon's expressions soured.
Geon signaled to stop the performance by raising his hand. Though Sharon had her eyes closed while playing, she, like a ghost, caught the signal and ceased playing. Geon went up on the stage and spoke to Fabio.
"Fabio, let's lower the guitar's volume to 1.5 and switch the distortion to 3."
As Fabio nodded and adjusted the volume, Geon told Samuel, "I'll raise the bass to 3.5."
After Samuel also nodded and adjusted the volume, Geon descended from the stage, signaling to Sharon to resume the performance. Sharon closed her eyes again, focusing.
Professor John Corigliano, who was below the stage with his chin rested on his hand, observed Geon thoughtfully. "Precise instructions. He's talented even as a producer. I need to find a way to make him take composition and classes, no matter what."
Once again, Sharon's lyrical performance poured forth from the stage. The students listening below the stage closed their eyes, letting the melody seep into their bodies and emotions. After a while, a faint sound resembling the cry of frogs in a valley blended with the bass guitar's melody, mimicking a small stream flowing from a waterfall. The music was gradually taking on the form of nature.
Students began moving slightly to the rhythm, but soon found themselves unable to move or even open their eyes, astonished by their own stillness.
Gradually, the sound of a small waterfall-like stream, represented by a subtle drum, joined in, and the performance reached its climax. Many students, awestruck, couldn't take their eyes off the performers. However, Professor Corigliano still couldn't take his eyes off Geon.
"This wasn't rock music. This was a perfect ensemble! Even an orchestra couldn't evoke such emotions! He chose the best instruments!"
Sharon, still playing with closed eyes, had a smile on her face. Unconsciously, her smile grew, turning into a joyful laughter, and soon, the long performance concluded.
After a moment of silence, when the performers on stage stood up for acknowledgment, the stupefied students began applauding and whistling.
"Wow!!!!!!"
"Woohoooo~~~~~~~~~~"
"Amazing! It was fantastic!"
"The best! The best arrangement!"
Looking at the students showering them with compliments, Geon felt a bit embarrassed and scratched his cheek. With applause continuing, Geon stepped onto the stage, raising his hand, and even louder applause erupted.
Sharon, observing him with contented eyes from behind, raised her hand, stopping the students' applause, and spoke, "Everyone, the performance is not yet complete."
Startled by Sharon's words, the touched students exclaimed, "What? Not complete?"
"No way! What more could be added here? It was already perfect!"
"Exactly! Adding more might ruin the piece!"
Glancing around the now noisy studio, Sharon raised her hand again.
"You all received the score in advance. The lyrics are written in it, did you all check?"
The students, seemingly recalling this fact, nodded at each other. With a smile, Sharon looked at Geon and said, "Geon Kim, is this song sung by a woman or a man?"
After briefly looking at Sharon and then around at the students below the stage, Geon made eye contact with Professor Corigliano, then replied, "This song is sung by a man. It expresses Albéniz's longing for Spain's beautiful natural environment."
Moving to the stand microphone alone on the stage, Geon continued speaking, "Right away."
As Geon stood before the microphone stand, the multitude of students beneath the stage couldn't contain their amazement.
Looking down from the stage, Corigliano, who had been sitting in the front row with his arms crossed, tilted his head, lost in thought. With a concerned expression, he gazed up at Geon.
"That's not within the realm of a producer. It's ambition, it's overreaching. You're still young."
As Geon quietly observed the space below the stage, Professor Sharon, sitting in a chair with a guitar in hand, approached him and gently swept her hand down Geon's back, speaking with a voice filled with consideration.
"Student Kim Geon, if needed, I can arrange for a male vocalist from the vocal or opera department. Don't push yourself too hard."
Geon turned to Sharon with a bright smile. "It's okay, Professor. Let me do this."
Glancing at Geon, Sharon looked at him intently before sighing and returning to her seat. She, a professional guitarist, closed her eyes as soon as she sat down, taking a moment to concentrate. After composing herself, Sharon, with closed eyes, began playing again.
Students, previously engaged in discussions or crossing their arms, gradually quieted as Sharon's performance commenced, focusing on the music.
Though Sharon, playing with even more concentration than before, produced beautiful melodies, the students' attention had already shifted due to Geon's impending song. Everyone concentrated on Geon standing in front of the microphone stand with closed eyes.
When the rapid melodies of the classical guitar began to slow and the electric and bass guitars chimed in, Geon's eyes flashed open. From his lips emerged an unbelievably high pitch, almost unimaginable for a male voice.
"Some souls hold
blue stars.
In the ticking of time,
placed mornings.
Wearing headphones, other student musicians who couldn't hear Geon's singing played their instruments flawlessly, keeping perfect time.
Professor Corigliano shot up from his seat.
Some of the students sitting below the stage also rose abruptly.
Many students who hadn't stood up had their mouths agape, wide-eyed and astonished.
Geon's voice was akin to a female soprano's extreme high pitch, resembling an angel's voice or, perhaps, a devil's. Corigliano, with trembling eyes, muttered softly.
"Ca... castrato?"
A castrato refers to male singers who, before puberty, underwent castration to preserve the high vocal range they had as boys. Before the 18th century, due to the prohibition of women performing in religious plays or operas, there was a demand for male singers to take female roles, leading to the emergence of castrati.
Corigliano, reminded of a movie he'd seen before called 'Farinelli,' gazed at Geon's extreme high notes, unknowingly examining his trembling right hand. Sweat had filled his shaking hand, dripping between his clenched fingers as soon as he balled his hand into a fist.
Corigliano momentarily glanced at his hand, then vigorously pointed and shouted at Geon.
"Not a castrato!"
In Corigliano's astonished eyes, a vivid depiction of Geon, reaching a climactic high note with strained vocal cords, emerged. As Geon's performance was not overly theatrical, the restrained high notes continued incessantly.
My soul
has long been ripe, it withers,
uncertainly, in the dark.
Stoned young souls,
consumed in hallucination,
fall onto
the water's surface of my thoughts.
Every stone speaks:
God is far away.
The song ended, but the music continued. Sharon, with her eyes closed while playing the guitar, had tears in the corners of her eyes, and her hand holding the guitar trembled. However, she didn't want to stop this performance, which might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She had yearned for this moment to last forever, but eventually, the piece concluded.
As the piece ended, the musicians, including Geon, and all present, snapped out of their entranced states. The students, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, glanced between each other and at Geon, seemingly questioning if what they witnessed was real.
Professor Sharon stood by her guitar stand, raising her hands and initiating applause.
"Clap, clap, clap."
The students below the stage, upon seeing Sharon's applause, began clapping along.
"Bravo!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"That was amazing!!!!!!!!!!!"
"To witness such a performance! Oh, my Lord!"
"What an incredible voice!!"
Sharon, still smiling, approached Geon and applauded towards his face. Encouraged by Sharon, a louder applause erupted from beneath the stage. Geon, caught in the euphoria of the music, smiled, applauding in turn to Fabio, Samuel, and Tindra. The students cheered, applauding the performers.
After a while of thunderous applause and cheering, the stage gradually quieted down as Professor Sharon, still smiling, looked around at the students and spoke.
"Everyone, it's been a joyous Saturday. Thank you all for gathering here like this. We'll conclude today's studio class here. Please give another round of applause to the performers who worked hard!"
The students once again showered the performers with generous applause. As the performers came forward, shaking hands and politely acknowledging, everyone started leaving the studio one by one, smiling.
Geon watched these happy students with a beaming smile. However, amidst them, Professor Corigliano caught his eye, standing still in that spot, gazing at Geon with trembling eyes. Concerned, Geon addressed the professor with a puzzled expression.
"Professor? Are you feeling unwell? You don't look good."
Upon hearing Geon's voice, Professor Corigliano shuddered. With trembling hands, he approached the stage where Geon was and reached out his right hand toward him. Accepting it as a gesture for a handshake, Geon smiled and held the professor's hand, but Corigliano firmly clasped Geon's hand and spoke.
"It... It was Pyemon... Pyemon's scream. I distinctly heard it."
Looking at Corigliano stumbling with his words and trembling, Geon asked in confusion, "Pyemon's scream?"
Noticing Corigliano's hand not letting go of Geon's, Professor Sharon intervened, concerned about Corigliano's pale face. "Professor John Corigliano, are you feeling unwell? You look pale. How about going to the faculty room for a cup of coffee?"
Shaking like a leaf, Professor Sharon couldn't take her eyes off Corigliano and, with an awkward smile, addressed Geon and the performers, "We'll postpone the dinner we planned for tonight. I'm sorry. As you can see, someone who was supposed to join us for dinner isn't feeling well. Don't worry; it seems like they've experienced some musical shock. Rest a bit, and you'll feel better."
As Sharon supported Corigliano, leaving the studio, Geon and the performers shrugged at each other but soon exchanged high-fives, finding joy in the splendid performance they had just delivered.
Though Sharon settled Corigliano comfortably on the sofa in the faculty room, he seemed absent-minded, muttering to himself, "Pyemon... It was Pyemon's scream. The legend was true."
Offering a warm cup of freshly brewed coffee and taking a seat opposite him, Sharon inquired, "You've been mentioning Pyemon repeatedly. What's happening, Professor?"
Corigliano stared blankly at the coffee placed in front of him. "It's a legend, Sharon."
Taken aback, Sharon widened her eyes. "A legend?"
Leaning back against the sofa, covering his face with his hands, Corigliano explained, "It's about the mentor of my mentor. A legend that they shared with me. Someone who possesses the scream of the demon Pyemon. One who exhales the breath every music in the world holds."
Setting down her coffee, Sharon asked with surprise, "I don't quite understand, Professor Corigliano."
Raising himself slightly and resting his elbows on his thighs while covering his face with both hands, Corigliano said solemnly, "I need to meet Professor Leontine Price from the Opera Department. Right now."
Sharon raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "I don't understand any of this, Professor. Why would we suddenly talk about Professor Price from the Opera Department here?"
Looking at Sharon with a serious expression, Corigliano explained, "Professor Sharon, do you remember what Professor Price mentioned at the Christmas party two years ago when she was a bit tipsy?"
After a brief pause, Sharon shook her head. "It's been too long; my memory's fuzzy. What did she say?"
Taking a deep breath, Corigliano recollected, "She said, 'Every vocalist's wish in the world is to hear Pyemon's scream at least once before they die.' That's what she said."
Sharon nodded in recollection. "Ah, I vaguely remember now. I remember asking about Pyemon back then, but you just laughed it off, Professor Corigliano."
"I thought it was fiction. Just a fanciful tale circulating among musicians. Moreover, even if one were to hear it, how would they recognize an unheard voice as Pyemon's scream? I've asked Professor Price something similar in the past," Corigliano said, glancing at Sharon.
"And what did Professor Price say?" Sharon inquired with curiosity.
"As soon as they hear it. They would recognize what they're hearing. And today, I heard it. No, I saw it. Pyemon's scream," Corigliano said, wrapping his face with both hands.
"I saw it. A beautiful boy with the smile of an angel."
"I heard it. A voice of exquisite beauty with the devil's essence."