A man of breathtaking beauty sang in a delicate tenor from behind the girl, dressed in a white medieval tunic, barefoot with sandals on.
"Like a giant whirlwind with its tail touching the ground, the essence of sorrow is much larger than you know. Yet, its root might be as small and insignificant as the tail of the whirlwind you see. Do not be deceived by the giant whirlwind blocking your sight; sorrow can reveal its small roots through the silver harmony of music."
As Geon's voice, resembling that of a string instrument, filled the stage, Norman broke into a cold sweat. Carlos was equally surprised, sitting up straight on the sofa, gripping the front seat tightly, eyes wide open. Norman wiped the sweat off his forehead and looked at his hand, shaking his head.
"Kay, you surprise me every time. I wondered what role you would take in the opera... to play the role of music itself is even more astonishing than playing a god, a demon, or an angel."
Carlos nodded in agreement to Norman's murmur, then suddenly pointed at the stage with a trembling voice.
"Did that ten-year-old kid write all these lyrics?"
Norman's mouth dropped open as he considered the sophistication of the lyrics and Kiska's age. The African American girl on stage suddenly looked around, as if she couldn't see Geon, then began digging the ground again as the stage lights dimmed and a woman's voice echoed from behind the curtain.
"1940. That was the year I turned 13."
As the lights came back on, a young man, now the brother of the girl, stepped out of a collapsing house with a large bag, followed by their parents bidding farewell. The mother, holding onto her departing son, shed tears while the father embraced them both. The girl, standing alone, stepped forward and began singing to the audience with a desperate expression.
If God were to ask me what my wish is,
I would say without hesitation to let my brother return safely.
If God were to ask me what my second wish is,
I would ask for a world without the horrors of war.
If God were to ask me what my last wish is,
I would ask for my small family to live happily.
As the boy waved goodbye and the parents tearfully watched him leave before going back inside, the girl alone drew her brother's face on the ground with a twig.
I wish for our country to be the most beautiful,
Not the strongest, for just as I hurt from others' invasions,
So would they from mine.
As the lights dimmed again, a woman's voice, hidden behind the curtain, spoke.
"The world has always sought to slander the brave. The voice of conscience against the roar of the crowd has fought for as long as history itself. And in that long history, we lost my brother."
Two soldiers in US military uniform glanced at the girl sitting alone before knocking on the door. The mother, opening the door with a hopeful expression, fainted upon seeing the sorrowful soldiers, and the father, rushing to support her, wept as he looked at the soldiers, unable to bear watching them any longer.
"Oh God! Do you exist?
Why do you appear before me as a wall of resentment,
Playing the cursed rhythm of fate?
Why won't you stop that music!
Why did you take my son!
When will my family and I be able to smile again!"
As the father sang in despair, kneeling beside the fainted mother, the audience began wiping their tears. Around the world, people sitting in front of their PCs also sensed they were shedding tears together as the stage lights went out.
The Chief of Staff, showing his displeasure, glanced at Harold Winston. The harsh stance on North Korea's nuclear issue that Harold Winston was pushing seemed undoubtedly influenced by the horrors of war shown in the performance. Harold Winston, without a word, just tapped his cheek with his fingers while resting his elbow on the armrest, focusing on the stage.
The Chief of Staff leaned towards Harold Winston, speaking in a suggestive tone.
"It's a story from the past. From a time of direct conflict, not missile wars. And it's because of such a history that we have the America of today, Mr. President."
Harold Winston adjusted his posture and waved his hand dismissively.
"Later. I want to focus on the performance now."
Straightening up, the Chief of Staff looked uncomfortably at the stage. The woman's voice from behind the curtain sounded as if she was holding back tears.
"When I thought the flame of hope had completely extinguished and not a single ember was left in the ashes, music reappeared before me."
A girl of about fifteen, carrying a basket, emerged from a collapsing house. Her face bore the fatigue and hardships of life, devoid of hope. As she sat down in the field in front of her house, despair and emptiness swirling in her eyes, Geon appeared from behind the house.
Geon observed the girl quietly before approaching her silently
from behind. As he looked down at the girl staring at the sky, he spoke.
"Your belief becomes your thoughts,
Your thoughts become your words,
Your words become your actions,
Your actions become your habits,
Your habits become your values,
Your values become your destiny.
There are seven sins in this world: wealth without work, pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, business without morality, science without humanity, politics without principle... and the last, prayer without sacrifice. Child, without sacrifice, nothing can be achieved. Your dead brother is not a sacrifice. Do not waste your time; work from dawn till dusk, and even if you fall asleep exhausted, dedicate at least five minutes for yourself. Those five minutes of sacrifice amidst the tiredness of life's poverty are true sacrifice. Pray through sacrifice."
As Geon gently covered the girl's ears with his hands, she, gazing blankly at the sky, closed her eyes. Geon looked down at her with warm eyes and sang.
"There is music in the rustling of grass, the flow of streams, the tickling of the wind in your ears, the cry of insects. Feel the fragments of music shattering deep within your small heart, girl."
As Geon's voice, almost a monologue between singing and speaking, filled the opera house, sounds resembling natural acoustic effects began. The girl, with her eyes closed, smiled and slowly raised her hands, as if conducting the sounds of nature.
As Geon stepped back and disappeared into the darkness, the girl, left alone, waved her hands continuously, smiling.
"I was born in a poor family and spent even poorer teenage years. To me, studying was like a dream. But the natural sounds gifted by music made me dream. Since that day, I've climbed the mountain every day to start a chorus with nature.
And there, I met him."
As the entire stage began to rotate, the audience was initially confused but soon realized it was a common stage background change in plays and refocused. The stage, fully rotated, revealed hills filled with grass and flowers against a backdrop of tall mountains. The girl, now around eighteen, ran across the mountain with flowers in one hand, smiling happily.
The sound of wind brushing against leaves,
The sound of water flowing through valleys,
If you entrust your empty heart to the sounds of nature,
It's so peaceful,
So serene,
So grateful,
Dreams will come true,
Otherwise, nature wouldn't have allowed me to dream in the first place.
As the girl sang, running through the mountains, a gentleman in a suit approached her. Carlos, noticing the gentleman, widened his eyes and pointed, whispering to Norman.
"Isn't that Kay? This time he's wearing a suit?"
Norman nodded.
"Perhaps it's a dual role, or maybe it's that music itself takes the form of a person."
"Ah.. I didn't know a single person could play multiple roles in opera. I thought it was something only small-scale plays did."
"It's rare, but it does happen. Especially in a genre that requires singing, it's quite demanding for one person to take on multiple roles."
As they resumed their conversation, the stage revealed Geon in a suit speaking to the girl, with the woman's voice hidden behind the curtain narrating.
"His name was Geoffrey. Having made a fortune running a car factory in Detroit, he watched me singing in the mountains for days. He came to our home and convinced my family to enroll me in a proper educational institution. Hearing the promise from a stranger willing to support my tuition and living expenses, my father allowed me to study with disbelief."
The woman's voice paused, slightly trembling.
"I only learned much later that the hidden meaning of the name Geoffrey was 'strong protector.' After receiving the scholarship, I visited his car factory, only to find it in a desolate desert with a few grass patches. No matter how much I searched, I couldn't find a wealthy man named Geoffrey in Detroit."
As Geon stood alone in a suit in the center of the stage, the woman's voice resumed.
"I am convinced that it was music itself that allowed me to study music."
Standing in the middle of the stage, Geon looked at the audience and smiled slyly.
In the auditorium of a university in Seoul, the capital of South Korea, everyone was holding their breath, focused on the live performance displayed on the large screen set up in the auditorium. The Music College, encouraged by the foundation to specialize, had obtained permission from Fantagio in advance to screen the opera performance, attracting many students to visit the school before the semester started to watch the performance together.
In the auditorium, over five hundred students, having run out of seats, were lined up all the way back to the corridors to watch the screen. Baek Man-jun, the chairman of the Korean university, seated in the front row with the faculty, never took his eyes off the screen as he whispered to a middle-aged professor beside him.
"This performance will be of great benefit to the students."
The middle-aged professor nodded vigorously.
"Indeed, Mr. Chairman. It's surprising. I thought it was just a performance by a musician named Kay, but I didn't expect it to be such a high-quality opera stage."
The chairman twitched his eyebrows and looked at the dean.
"It's Leontine Price's last performance, professor. With music by John Corigliano. It couldn't possibly be a hastily prepared performance."
The middle-aged professor slightly bowed his head.
"It seems I had a prejudice against pop singers."
"Not just for those in music, but for anyone involved in creative cultural activities, prejudice is an obstacle that must be avoided. It wouldn't do for a professor teaching students to have such bias. And while Leontine Price is indeed leading this stage, the most shining presence on it is Kay. If there was ever an artist underestimated for being a pop musician, this performance should overturn that assessment."
After seeing Geon's confident and slightly smug divine expression in the center of the stage, the dean looked down at the goosebumps on his forearm.
"Indeed. If I'm in such a state, I imagine other artists feel similarly."
The chairman turned back to observe the students, who were so engrossed in the performance they seemed to be sucked into the screen, and wore a satisfied expression.
"Are Yeonha University and Goyeon University also screening the performance in their auditoriums?"
"Yes, Mr. Chairman. Not only that, but most schools with music colleges have requested Fantagio and are officially screening it at their schools."
"Hmm, as expected."
"It's not just our country. Prestigious music colleges in the US and Europe are conducting auditorium screenings for their students. Leontine Price's students are faculty members in music colleges worldwide, and the performance has garnered significant attention."
The chairman stroked his chin, looking troubled.
"Our music college is linked with Juilliard through a sister school relationship, right?"
"Yes, Mr. Chairman."
"Hmm… Is there any way we could bring Kay to our school, maybe as an exchange student or for a tour?"
"There might be a way, but would Juilliard allow it? Even if we go through the proper channels, if the school decides to decline, that's the end of it."
"If it can't be done, so be it, but at least try. Just having Kay visit our school would change its status."
"Even if Juilliard agrees, I'm not sure Kay would want to come. Our music college is renowned, but it doesn't compare to the reputation of Juilliard. There might not be much reason for him to come to our school."
The chairman coughed uncomfortably at the dean's frank words.
"Humph, I see you're bold enough to say such things in front of me. Haven't I been increasing the budget for the music college every year? Try to make it a school not inferior to Juilliard."
"Hehe, that wasn't my intention, but if you continue to do so, I would be more than happy. I'll check on the possibility of bringing Kay here."
"Don't force or pressure them. Make sure you present our school well to Kay or Juilliard. Even if they refuse, part on good terms, ensuring we maintain a good relationship."
"I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Chairman."
After their conversation, the two immersed themselves in the performance again. However, their discussion wasn't unique to the Korean university but was reflective of conversations happening among chairpersons of nearly all universities that were screening the performance. Most schools were contemplating various conditions they could offer to have Geon visit their institution for at least a semester.
**
Standing alone on stage, Geon looked around the audience with an expression of leisure as if he were a god, then retreated into the darkness. It seemed to turn into night as the lights dimmed, and a girl with a small bag tied to a tree branch slung over her shoulder trudged along a night road. The solitary figure of the girl walking the quiet mountain path was incredibly mystical. Though she walked alone, her expression was full of dreams and anticipation as she touched the flowers in the
field or hopped along the mountain path. The girl plucked a flower, put it in her mouth, and sang.
Far and alone
A black horse, a large moon
And raspberries in my saddle
Into the plains, into the wind
The black horse sees the red moon
The dawn flower has already opened its embrace
The black horse, snorting at the moon's cold scent,
Sprouts white wings from its black back
And flies into the sky
As she reached the last lyric and stretched her hand towards the sky, a woman's voice from behind a curtain echoed.
"The day I walked to New York alone with Geoffrey's help. Saving on the fare, my only pair of shoes wore through, but I was happy. The long tunnel with an end in sight gave me hope. And at the end of that tunnel was Juilliard.
That's how I ended up at Juilliard School."
The stage began to rotate, and when it had turned 180 degrees, the house that was originally behind was gone, and a stage with a few chairs appeared. On the chairs were about six students, each holding an instrument, playing with joyful expressions.
A bright-looking Caucasian student wearing suspenders played the violin and sang.
This is Juilliard
Where there is music, there is joy
Where there is joy, there will be you and me
This is Juilliard
Where there is music, there is hope
Where there is hope, there will be you and me
The students accompanied the Caucasian student's song, each playing their instrument, including the cello and flute, merging into a single piece of music filled with hope and joy. Their performance brought smiles to the faces of the audience. Carlos, too, smiled and quietly tilted his head towards Norman, whispering.
"It's the first time I've seen actors playing instruments in an opera performance."
Norman nodded slightly.
"It's not unheard of. There have been precedents, but it's rare. These are students from Juilliard, where geniuses of music gather, so it's a class of its own."
Carlos whistled softly.
"Kay isn't the only genius here. Seeing how many geniuses are gathered in one place, it's hard to comprehend the extent of Kay's talent, shining even in such a place."
"Indeed. Graduating from Juilliard is a badge of honor in itself. Kay, shining so brightly here, is a treasure to humanity. I look forward to what tomorrow brings more than today."
"Haha, you've fallen hard for Kay, Norman."
Norman chuckled and replied.
"Of course, wouldn't I have flown all the way to the US to see a single performance otherwise?"
A girl, barefoot and with mud on her feet, climbed onto the stage. The dirt-streaked girl looked at the singing and playing students with eyes full of longing. Unable to approach closely and just looking from a distance, Geon appeared behind the girl in a clean white shirt and brown pants. After observing the girl for a moment, Geon placed his hand on her shoulder, causing her to startle and turn around. Geon grinned and took the girl's hand, leading her towards the joyfully playing students.
The girl, hesitantly approaching, showed embarrassment on her face, but the playing students, undeterred by her shabby clothes, encircled her with their instruments, continuing to play. As a smile slowly spread across the girl's face, Geon nudged her back and gestured for her to sing. Looking up at Geon, the girl bowed her head briefly before raising it to sing in a beautiful, clear voice.
I dream of singing
Singing of dreams
In the brilliant light of dreams manifesting
I fear my eyes might be blinded
I may become bruised from countless falls
But with each fall, I wish to be someone who picks something up
Geon and the students were surprised by the beautiful voice flowing from the girl. The students, momentarily stunned, joyously circled the girl even more as she sang. The girl, too, smiled happily, and Geon, standing a bit away, slowly nodded in approval.
Again, the voice of a woman hidden by the curtain spoke.
"I learned at Juilliard that the desire to fulfill my dreams leads to a craving for learning and a duty to learn. And there, I met my first and last love in life."
The stage darkened and then lit up again, revealing the girl and Geon sitting side by side on a bench set up on one side of the stage. Geon, with an acoustic guitar on his thigh, looked at the girl with a loving gaze as he plucked the guitar strings. As the audience focused on the love serenade Geon was about to sing, his beautiful voice, accompanied by a quiet arpeggio melody, resonated clearly in everyone's ears.
Does holding your breath stop the heart?
Even if I hide my feelings of
love,
It's like they can't be hidden.
I'm always curious about you,
Thirsty for the actions you show me.
Everything I feel for you is a deficiency.
A familiarity that feels ancient,
But each time we meet, it feels like first love
I don't want to act to complete
An unfinished love. Like your sincere song,
I want to convey my heart simply
Female audience members, in particular, clutched their hearts and drew hearts in their eyes in an instant. The beauty of the young man, more than his appearance, was in the timbre of his voice and the way it whispered yet clearly resonated in the ears. Not only the audience in the venue but also women watching on PC screens in their homes and school auditoriums were feeling similar emotions.
As the stage lights dimmed, leaving the happy couple in view, the audience smiled and focused their attention on the woman behind the curtain. However, no words came from behind the curtain after a brief silence. Just as the audience began to feel uneasy, the woman's voice, mixed with tears and forcibly suppressing trembling, flowed out.
"I thought our love would last forever. But he, having joined the Vietnam War in 1955, never returned."
The audience couldn't hold back and screamed out.
"Oh no!"
"Again?"
"War is truly horrific!"
"God! How could you bestow so much hardship on one woman!"
As the murmurs of anger and sorrow grew louder, the chief secretary began to pay closer attention to Harold Winston's reaction. The president, sitting askew and staring sternly at the stage, deepened his gaze.