Il Suono D'oro
Chapter09: Ready For Devil's Trill
"Everybody line-up! Single file if you please," said the tall foreigner, waving his presence with a thick notepad. Dark-blond hair, fair-skinned and somewhat athletic-looking, Len remembered him as one of the quintet violinists from the audition speech day. The nametag pinned on his polo T-shirt was Arnold Alby-Bach.
As he walked through the crowd, checking their attendance, there were a few fake coughs and suppressed chuckling, mostly done behind the man's back as his face showed seriousness in doing his work. Thirty people mingled around in the narrow corridor of the ground-floor practise rooms, including Len and Kahoko. And these were just the violinists.
"And they all wanted to..." Kahoko's surprise was evident; it made her voice falter.
"There is no doubt," said Len, "Everyone wants to be the concertmaster for a violin soloist composition written by a world-class violinist."
"But wasn't the allocated space for violins in the orchestra only 16 places?"
"Indeed. This large number is from the administration. The project aims to capture as many as possible but only the judges would choose the right ones,"
"Oh. Like American Idol,"
Len raised an eyebrow in consideration, "Yes, well. I suppose that's one way to describe it,"
"Yeah, but without the public voting or the Paula Abdul," said a voice behind them.
The new person did not surprise them; Len had noticed his incoming presence but not his identity. He turned to face a scruffy-looking teacher with his hands in the pockets of his white coat and had tied his long lavender-tinted hair into a ponytail. Hiroto Kanazawa gave them both a welcoming beam.
Len greeted his former high school teacher, noticing firstly that the guy no longer smelled of cigarette residue. Kahoko was more enthusiastic in seeing one of the most prominent figures in her music career.
"Mr. Kanazawa!" she nearly screamed.
"Haha, nice to see you two again," said Kanazawa, "But keep it down will you? I don't want the Tempo-nator over there to see me yet," He pointed to the foreigner. The man had thrown a meaningful stare at one of the violinist, who had mischievously taken an opportunity to squeak a well-know movie theme music.
Even Len smirked for a split second, "He's Arnie Alby from Broadway Superior Orchestra, isn't he? He uses a stage name?"
Kanazawa grinned, "Yup. Phantom of the Opera, Merry Widow, West Side Story, you name it, he'd lead it. Word on the backstage is that he's taking a break from his work at the moment,"
"To help Mr. Kamiya?" asked Kahoko.
"Mr. Kamiya preferred that everybody's nametags ought to be just as stated in their identity card."
Len noted the similar style of nametag was hung around Kanazawa's neck.
"Are you one of the judges too, sir?" he asked.
Kanazawa twirled his finger around the neck-string and gave him a mournful sigh, "Not a chance. I'm just here to make sure the lights are off and the doors are locked when all this is over."
"So you're still a teacher here? What about Italy?" asked Kahoko, sounding somewhat half-hearted.
Kanazawa shook his head, "Just a temp thing going, while I clean up all my stuff here. House, bills, family and friends. The company is taking me and some others on a long European tour next year."
"Oh wow, that's so cool!"
"Kid, getting the chance for a comeback is cool. How the media will take my comeback may not be as cool," But Kanazawa said it with a soft chortle, his confidence was obviously assured.
When Kanazawa mentioned 'the media', Len was reminded of someone who was also part of the Kamiya project and an old friend of theirs.
"By the way," he began, "we've noticed that Ousaki was at the University during the speech the other day. He never mentioned anything about this to us before,"
"Well, now didn't he? Did you two ask him about it at the time?"
Kahoko shook her head, "There was an answer and question session after the speech but it might have sounded off-topic in this regard."
Kanazawa glanced at Arnie Alby taking the attendance, slowing inching closer to Kahoko and Len as the foreigner wrote and marked down the names, "I supposed that Ousaki meant to give you guys a surprise. I know for a fact that he's one of the judges for violins tonight."
Though he did not show it, Len was taken back at the information, "A judge? For the orchestra?"
Kanazawa nodded, "Not bad, eh? Our Ousaki? Even after all the critics' blabbing about his age and experience, he's managed to get himself such a lofty collaboration."
"Did Ousaki meet Kamiya in Vienna?" asked Len.
"Heh, I guess. Ousaki said that Kamiya was at that very moment, looking for young musicians from the Japanese community and they happened to bump into each other during a conference," said Kanazawa with a crooked smile, "Lucky dog, eh?"
Lucky. In Vienna.
It felt like... an opportunity passed. For Len.
Arnie Alby insinuated himself between Kahoko and Len and grunted for their names. He raised an eyebrow as Len gave him his full name but the man had said nothing more. After he marked his notepad, he noticed Kanzawa standing casually. Alby thanked them both for coming before turning towards the teacher.
"I've checked from the other corridor. There's a big crowd for the cellos as well," said Alby.
"How many?" asked Kanazawa.
"20."
The teacher stared, a mixture of shock and surprise coloured his face. "But-but... there's only 8 places for cellos!"
"Yes and only one to be lead cellist. This could take all night," Alby shrugged his shoulders, "I'm sorry but I guess we're going to have to move the violins up-upstairs. I hope the gallery is ready?"
"Can't we just ask half of this lot to go home and come back tomorrow?"
Alby shook his head, "We don't know how big the crowd would be tomorrow night. God help us if it's bigger than tonight. And then there are the pianist and percussion auditions in the morning. Those two would definitely need the gallery and we don't know how that will take either."
"Aie-yai-yai," groaned Kanazawa, "Okay, sure. I just got the place cleaned this morning anyway."
"This would have been much easier if Kamiya was not so concerned about security,"
"Well, Kira did not want your lot to use the school hall either. The rest of the school got their own music performances, if you know what I mean."
As Alby turned away to address the rest of the violinists of the new placement, Len questioned Kanazawa about the place that was the gallery.
"It's the big room full of mirrors upstairs that had been closed for years," he said, "It's the place where, if you get picked, you two would be coming back there again and again. Every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday night, plus compulsory Saturday morning and maybe into the afternoon as well. Throughout the year."
"Our orchestra practise room?" asked Kahoko.
"Yup," Kanazawa raised his arms between them and gave them a dual friendly glomp-hug on their backs, "Welcome back to Seisou Academy."
Someone called out for Kanazawa and the man returned a nod. He then pushed Len and Kahoko by their shoulders into the moving throng and snapped his fingers good luck to them both. The two exchanged speaking glances before following everybody trailing behind Alby.
"We're going to pass through some places where the others are having their audition so I hope you all will be considerate in keeping silent," said Alby. His spoken words were dripping with all the subtext of if I hear another Hollywood action movie theme...
They walked up the far end stairs from the ground floor toward the first floor of the music building. In the distance, Len thought he heard a familiar English folk music, Greensleeves, just as Kaji said he would play. It was unusual to hear it on a viola. Kaji was indeed becoming more and more creative in his playing, Len thought. The gentle romanesca somehow made his instrument light and airy.
While going up another floor, they passed through a group of cello players as they went to the second floor, all waiting for their turn outside the rooms. Coincidently, Len could also hear Shimizu's playing from inside one of them. He knew it was definitely his junior because Shimizu had played Bach's Prelude for the solo cello once before.
"That was what he played in the final selection years ago, wasn't it?" smiled Kahoko, noting Len's absorption.
Shimizu playing a song he was comfortable and familiar with. A safe study but this time, Len thought it had a slightly different tempo in his play. More strength, more maturity, more... experience.
Realizing that he was turning into some kind of a music dandy, a fob rendered mushy by listening to all the auditions through the walls, Len slapped the thought out of his head and opened his music score to study his own chosen piece. Focus and concentration on playing the way wanted it to sound. He kept his mind so full of his own music that he did not notice Hihara until the latter enthusiastically slapped him on the shoulder.
"Good luck, Tsukimori!" he cried.
Full of irksome, he contemplated stuffing the blow piece of Hihara's trumpet down his throat but Kahoko greeted Hihara first.
"Good luck to you too, Kazuki!"
Hihara gave her a thumbs-up and gestured to the trumpeters' group he was with, "You guys are changing audition rooms too, eh?"
"Yeah, that place was getting kind of full," said Kahoko,
"Tell me about it. The trumpeters are moving to audition in the GE building at the furthest classrooms."
"By the way Kazuki, you haven't told us what music you were going to audition."
"Really? I thought I already did," he grinned, "I'm going to play Mozart's Serenade No. 13,"
"A Little Night Music?" wondered Len, his discomfort eventually passed, "That's a quite popular piece."
"Yeah! I've been saving it to play for something just like this," grinned Hihara. He then pointed to their group. "I'll catch up with you two later."
Leaving Hihara with the other trumpeters making their own way on the opposite direction, the two continued on. They passed next to one of the teacher lounges. From its open door, they heard voices of a discussion. One of those voices, Len identified as Tsuchiura.
"Also, about the concertos, how would they be included in our overall grading scheme?" he asked.
Len peeked into the room and saw Tsuchiura and several other students in a circle, some standing and some sitting on the large sofas. He appeared to be addressing to a familiar-looking woman with short dark hair. She nodded to him and answered.
"Good question. While the university faculty preferred that it should be considered within the Recital Attendance program, your lecturers had discussed with my team about your own opinions..."
As the woman explained away to the group, Tsuchiura caught Len and Kahoko watching. He gave them both an approving wave of his hand and received one in return from Kahoko. As he directed his attention back to the discussion, Len reminded himself to inquire Tsuchiura about the question he had just asked Mrs. Kamiya, among other things as well.
After perceiving Mrs. Kamiya's presence in that teacher's lounge, Len wondered if Kamiya himself would attend the auditions.
"Nope," said Kanazawa, when Len posed that question upon arriving into the gallery, "It's just the Tempo-nator and Ousaki who would be watching your fingers. Mr. Busy-Celebrity got to spend his Friday night with Mr. Seisou-Director,"
"That seemed somewhat inconsiderate," said Len.
"Heh, you know what's even more inconsiderate? Sponsors that had to be constantly wooed," pouted Kanazawa.
"Is Mr. Kira a sponsor then?" asked Kahoko.
"Him? Then maybe French restaurants should serve French maids. Part of the return revenue from the album would fund Seisou for the next ten years or so. Still, Kira's got tough bargaining instinct. If he's giving anything here, it's employee labour,"
Kahoko giggled, "Still putting the school ahead, first, as usual?"
Kanazawa rolled his eyes, "That guy needs a girlfriend,"
Len managed to stop himself from snorting indecently, "Kanazawa, that's throwing stones from glass houses."
The teacher just hissed, "Same words to you, buddy,"
"Kanazawa, get those two into their seats," Alby called out to them. From the doorway, Ousaki entered. At first sight, Len thought that Ousaki looked a little more tired than usual. The man had dark rings under his eyes and his hair was not as well-combed as it should but those seemed to be his only flaws. He shook his hand at Kanazawa and the older man made his exit and closed the door.
"Alright then, let's not waste any more time," he spoke brightly to the crowd, "This looks to be a great place. I hope that the next time you enter here, you would all be a fully qualified member of the team."
From his bag, he passed Alby another set of notepads as they both took their seats behind the judges' table. He then caught Len's and Kahoko's and gave them a wide friendly smile as he sat down.
In Len's mind, the mirror-walled long room was not as large as the gallery he was used to seeing his mother practise her piano orchestras but it was still well proportioned. The windows along one wall were slightly open to let in some of the cooling night air. The wooden floor appeared to be just recently mopped and the chairs arranged in formation were the old school chairs he was so used to. He took a seat as everyone else sat down as well.
"Welcome back to Seisou Academy."
Coming back. But Len felt like he never left. Never went away. It was just as if his life had stalled. What was he waiting for, why was he still here, he did not know. Like he was on the threshold of going somewhere, doing something, yet he seemed to have forgotten an important entity he knew he needed before he leaves. He was still looking for the answer. Waiting for it.
With these thoughts in his mind, he barely heard the other players had their names called up in alphabetical order. But he did play attention when they played their music. Brahms, Handel, Mendelssohn, the Bach family; various terms of allegro, moderato, largo in various forms of arpeggio, crescendo, fugue and everything else.
Beside him, Kahoko was obviously not listening to the technicalities of the player's skills. Her head was low, her hand relaxed on her lap and her eyes half-shut; her pose was just as she always was, always had been. Listening intently. Len knew that the girl beside him possessed a gift of innocent appreciation. He learned it from her, even as she did not knew at the time that she had been teaching him.
His smile then quickly turned into a frown as Kahoko suddenly drew a quick intake of breath when Ousaki called out her name. She got up and gave Len a sweated cheer, which he returned with a look with all the expression do-control-yourself.
"Hino, Kahoko. Correct?" asked Alby from behind the notepad. He looked up as Kahoko positioned herself before the long table.
"Ye-" she paused then coughed, "Yeah,"
"Hm-mm. You know the drill. State your full name and your music piece. Then please await our decision after you're done before leaving this room."
In front of her, Ousaki gave her an encouraging nod and jerked a thumb to the mirror behind him, "If you're feeling nervous, just look at yourself playing."
"Ah-a, okay," smiled Kahoko.
"Begin now," said Alby.
And Kahoko played. Her choice of song was Vivaldi's Spring. Prior to hearing her play, Len had reservations if she could execute the piece skilfully. It was a buoyant and popular tune; witness its use in 4 out of 5 overly-hyped cable TV nature programs. A favourite by many throughout the years, Kahoko had told everyone that she picked it because of that. But when she played, she made it sound like it was her favourite as well. A special favourite.
"Thank you, miss," said Alby, upon the end of her playing. In fact, hers was only one of the few Alby and Ousaki allowed to play as long as she helped herself. That watching them listening to her being a pleasure was all the positive support Kahoko could see. She bowed her thanks and slowly strolled towards the exit, her walking motion was not as awkward as before.
Say, what was he thinking about before Kahoko started playing? Len could not seem to recall his previous glumness. But what was left was a solid sense of determination. Stronger determination. He may support Kahoko in her endeavours as violinists but first and foremost, it would be he who was to be the concertmaster.
At the end of the day, or in case, before the night was out, Len made sure that he would be the one leading Kamiya's original violin concerto. With pride.
"Len Tsukimori," called out Alby.
Len got up from his seat and made his way walking between the other seated violinists, mindful of keeping his violin out of harm's way and to stand in front of the judges.
Looking up from the notepad, Alby muttered, "Tsukimori... Tsukimori... Any relation to Misa Hamai?"
Len frowned. Behind him, someone made a none-to-obvious cough. Series of coughs.
"Yes," Better get that over with. Quickly.
Ousaki whispered something to Alby that was too low for Len to make out. Alby nodded and indifferently said the usual platitudes.
"Len Tsukimori. Playing Giuseppe Tartini's Devil's Trill," said Len.
Len had strategized how he was going to play. He started with the slow beginning section, pulling out on all the long notes, embedding as much of his skill into the piece. Then with little warning, he began to build momentum from his foundation. He brought up the pace, energetic and bouncy, until the notes appear to be plucking all by themselves. He chased the music around like an impish spirit with a garden of will-o-wisps, teasing the ears as an illusionist would with magic tricks.
Just as Ousaki had suggested to Kahoko, Len watched himself play in the mirror. No, he was not nervous. Not while playing this. Not having to keep an eye on his fingers, not the way his bow flew on his violin. It was himself.
Len Tsukimori watched himself play. He caught his own eyes in the reflection, his own thoughts showing back to himself to infinity.
What are you waiting for? Where are you going? You're wasting time.
To these, his reflection held no answer. Len listened to his playing, concentrating hard on perfection. Listening, remembering, following, seeking, and waiting... for his life's calling.
A calling... Distantly ringing in his mind.
A call- A ringtone?
What the fuck...?!
An intrusive sound sliced through his performance. It was loud and piercing and Len wanted to murder it. He stopped his playing with scratchy jerk, but the cellphone continued to ring, its sound echoed in the room.
Alby blinked at the noise and then turned to address the sitting players, "Excuse me!" he cried. "Who is that?"
It was a complete faux pas for a fellow musician to leave his cellphone on; more so during someone else's audition. An unwritten rule no one had wanted to remind anyone of because everyone here was fully concentrated on playing. And not being disturbed. Or be disturbed by anyone.
"I asked," boomed Alby, his temper rising with his voice, "Whose is that?!"
If Arnold Ably-Bach was planning on murdering the cellphone owner, Len would not thank the man.
Len wanted to do the crime himself.
The cellphone was off, yet no one in the gallery admitted guilt. Everyone was turning to face everyone else, all trying to throw contempt at whoever it was. But there was no one who apologized, or willing to apologize. The ready-to-scorn looks on the remaining crowd's faces eventuate to puzzling glances, as it was clear that whoever's cellphone it was that cut off Len's audition, it was clearly not one of them.
"The window," pointed Ousaki. When Alby stared questioningly at him, Ousaki gestured, "I believe it came from outside."
The window? Len looked towards the windows built along one side of the room. All of them were partially open; since the room had just recently been reopened, it was necessary to get air circulating as breathing people filled the space. The night had been very clear and quiet. If it was outside from the window of a third-storey room meant that whoever that freaking person was being outside had to be on the freaking roof.
Alby sighed and got up from his seat. He went over to the closest window and shut it tight, urging those nearest to the other windows to do the same. A series of creaking squeaks and metallic clicks followed. As Alby made his way back to the judges seat, Len heard him grumbled the best kind of American curses from under his breath.
Len felt like doing the same, only directly at the perpetrator and loudly.
He stood on his spot, his violin still on his shoulder, waiting for the judge's next order. To continue or not to continue. When Alby waved his hand towards the exit-, "Thank you Tsukimori. I believe we have made a decision-," Len's heart dropped. He bit the inside of his bottom lip to hide his frustration. But this was an audition. It would not be right to replay while others were still waiting and anticipating their turn. Their own one-shot chances.
Len gave the two men an exiting bow and picked up his instrument case. With all elegance, he walked toward the exit door.
Outside, the hallways was almost empty. Save for a few stranglers pacing and slouching around outside, waiting for their friends still yet to perform, Len could see no one he recognized. Kahoko must have gone to look for the others. Because the audition places were so spread out, they all had agree to meet up and wait at the cafeteria.
"Excuse me," he asked one of the waiting violinists. The boy, a third-year high school student by his uniform, looked up when Len spoke to him.
"Yes?"
"I'm just wondering. Did you notice anyone coming down from that staircase?" Len pointed to the staircase that led to only one more floor above theirs.
The boy studied the area for a moment and paused to think, "No sir," he answered, "I know a lot of us standing around here would notice. The sound of roof door slams like fallen piano, even on an airless day,"
"I see. Thank you."
He carefully placed his case on one of the old worn tables that had been taken out of the gallery, but yet to be brought downstairs. Certain of its stability, Len placed his violin inside and closed it with a definite click. Picking it up and ignoring those around him, he made his way through the hallway and towards that staircase he had inquired.
Going up.
Oh yes, he was not going to let this one down. In fact, he had a very disturbing premonition. An idea of which that cellphone user, the one who had ignorantly and insultingly jeopardized what might have been his major chance at a professional Japan-based orchestra, even a short-term one.
Because that ringtone of that cellphone, its uniqueness, he had heard it once before. A few days ago.
At a bus shelter not far from school.
End of Chapter 09
Author's PS: For more information about the Fan-Epic (and that I NEED help on something), check out the FAQ in my personal profile.
Author's PPS: To listen to Len's audition of Tartini's Devil's Trill (which I kind of liked), you can download the MP3 at my profile.
