The lessons began the next day, Didier now more concerned with perfection than ever.
Satordi placed sheets of music in front of Didier, Didier playing until he got stuck. Satordi would assist him, show him how to make it easier, and Didier would continue to play.
After a few days Didier mastered the art of fixing his own mistakes, and Satordi decided to move it up a little.
By the fourth day Satordi directed the young man's attention to the harpsichord.
"Play what I play." Satordi said, sitting at the harpsichord, Didier pulling out his violin.
Satordi played a simplistic tune and Didier played it back. Satordi played an easy tune and Didier played it back. Gradually, the tunes became harder and harder, but Didier continuously returned them.
After about fifteen of these Satordi told Didier, "Keep your eyes closed."
Didier did as he was told.
He played what he heard, and only what he heard. If he heard an open D he would play an open D.
He didn't dare make it more complex than that.
However, Satordi wanted to throw the young man off guard. Thus, he improvised a fast and seemingly complex set of notes that at first baffled Didier.
He took a moment to recollect what he had heard, then preceded to play.
Flawless.
Satordi smiled. What a creation God had sent him! A beauty with only a violin and a dream! A man of such perfection!
But that could not be all this young man was.
This young man had to be challenged, and that was Satordi's goal:
To challenge this young man.
Playing the violin was second nature. It was something he was practically born doing.
Now, his job was to make Didier think.
As Satordi began to speak, Didier took it as queue to open his eyes, "Sit."
Didier sat next to the older man, "And play this."
Satordi placed a sheet of music in front of Didier all for harpsichord. Didier was a marvelous, unrealistic violinist. Yes, he had some experience with harpsichord, but never anything this complex.
Nonetheless he accepted the challenge.
He placed his violin in its case and then returned to the harpsichord, stretching out his fingers and beginning to play.
He was nervous, but he wanted to prove he could do anything. Why did this matter so much to him all of the sudden? He could not even answer that question to save his own life.
Note after note and key after key the young man played, finally, a flaw was spotted by Satordi's keen ears. Nevertheless, he let the young musician continue.
Once Didier concluded he looked at his teacher anxiously. Satordi looked only at the notes, his hand fixed profoundly under his powdered chin.
"You made three mistakes," he told Didier, "Find them."
Yes, the young man was finally challenged.