Ivan Braginsky, a Russian immigrant, was practically homeless ever since he got robbed when he moved in America. He lost everything important, his luggage, his cellphone, his passport, documents, all of it; it frustrated him, and got him depressed for a while. But luckily, he still had Tanya, his tenor saxophone, with him. He was a saxophone major graduate from Gnessin State Musical College, and was about to pursue a doctor's degree in Jazz Studies in Manhattan School of Music, but decided to take a vacation first, and he regretted that he reserved a hotel room good just for a week.
He was regularly busking in the subway of New York, collecting money enough to eat. Despite being a known musician in Moscow, he never witnessed someone who would stay for a while to listen to his playing, noting that the station was almost empty. It made him doubt his musicality, contemplated about his life choices. As he continued to ponder with his thoughts, the sound he produced was velvety, mellow, and deep. It was actually invoking, and he didn't even know how profound he was. The phrasing and its dynamics were soothingly resonant, as if he was singing. Its irregular intervals along with its rhythmic patterns were virtuosic, and that made a few people turn their heads to him, each gave a penny. After a few minutes of smooth jazz improvisations, he packed up his instrument, and decided to ride the train. He thought that he might draw attention more in another area in the city; he needed to be optimistic, and he didn't want to give up.
"Don't worry, Tanya. You'll be appreciated more." He talked to his brass instrument, and of course it didn't reply.
From a distance, he could hear a sonorous saxophone. 'Do they allow this inside a train?' It was vibrant, abrasive, and energizing. 'It's an alto sax, huh?' It was charming how he played its percussive overtones. He peeked, and he saw a blond wearing sunglasses, booming his bebop tunes while dancing like a madman. He was surrounded by fellow passengers who would take videos of him and were howling in awe. His music surely made people dance, as one of the passengers joined him by dancing. When the train stopped in the station, he noticed how no one was getting of the train. For some reason, Ivan felt jealous, envious by how the blond got the attention he wanted.
'You think you're the only one who could own this train?' He took Tanya out of her case, and he tried to match the blond's melody by adding his own counterpoint.
From the other side, the audience looked where the other sound came from, and howled more as a Russian man came closer, blasting his cadenzas. Alfred, a notorious prankster, was busking in the train just for the sake of trolling, and was surprised that someone decided to join his parade. He was amazed at the ashen blond; he noticed that he rarely produced clashes of notes, and noted his phrasing. While he knew he was the melody out of them, he adjusted to be the accompaniment for the other player by producing a 7/8 rhythmic drone. The ashen blond easily attuned to his pattern as he played his melody, introduced with a glissando, and embellished with chromatic grace notes. After a span of measures, he adjusted to a cut time signature, and the ashen blond looked at him, then smirked. The ashen blond was about to play quartals, but melodious triplets and eventually sextuplets took his spot. Alfred felt ecstatic; he didn't even know he could do that. As they shifted to another time signature, he continued playing as the melody, while the ashen blond was the accompaniment. For an accompaniment though, his sound was suave, and sexy; he was just playing the blue scale in 4/4 for crying out loud.
Ivan was impressed. The way he modulated the key in an arppegiated pivot chord, which was a flatted major subdominant seventh, he didn't know would sound good made his heart beat faster. He was getting excited, and the idea of beating his 'rival' slowly faded in his mind. Sure, they had different styles, the upbeat and expressive versus the refined and articulate, but what they were producing was harmonious. He didn't mind the people surrounding them anymore. He knew this was a duet, and it sure was a beautiful one.
When they were now in Penn Station, both of them decided to resolve in a major seventh, with a little bit of overtones from Alfred. The audience clapped, and Alfred bowed a gracious bow complete with arm gesture, while Ivan bowed with half of his body. After their bows, they caught themselves staring at each other at the same time. They both smiled, Alfred lowering his sunglasses with a smoulder, and Ivan bowed a little, and packed Tanya. Alfred packed his alto sax, and caught Ivan looking at him. He came closer, and shook hands with the talented stranger. They both bid their goodbyes, walking the opposite sides of the train.
'Maybe I'm not homeless after all.'
overtones - it's when you hear more notes despite playing only one
cadenza - series of really fast notes
counterpoint - another melody that compliments another melody
glissando - really fast chromatic scale
grace notes - the nice scooping sound before a note
arpeggiated - arpeggio, broken chord
pivot chord - the chord before modulation
flatted subdominant seventh - that's a chord
Based from this: watch?v=1_9IMZcbKHQ