Liszt – Grandes études de Paganini, S. 141 No. 3 “La Campanella”
Liszt was said to be a pianist with extremely large hands. The size of a pianist’s hands is vitally important to their career. Size affects the pianist’s breadth of expression, such as whether or not they can play through the octaves with ease. Ever since Kon and I began learning the piano, we’d never once forgotten to practice stretching and spreading our fingers. I secretly took pride in the fact that my fingers were a whole knuckle joint longer than the boys in my junior high class.
Kon chose to play at a faster tempo.
This song, played in continuous octaves, made it very hard to stress notes. The switch from fortissimo (very loud) to a crescendo (gradually getting louder) made me want to scream, “well, which is it?!”
Kon expressed the music dynamically by playing with her entire body. Her hands danced across the keyboard like she was pounding the keys, but some sort of magic had to be at play as she achieved a continuous ringing of tinkling high notes, producing the bell sound effects Liszt intended. It didn’t even sound like music produced by a mere instrument anymore. Perhaps this was what sprinkling stardust would sound like.
She returned to the secondary theme and gave it the most spectacular treatment with a roaring crescendo of contrary-motion chromatic octaves. The music burst forward with an impassioned end-of-the-dance fanfare over an insistent bass figure and ever-widening crashes in both hands that made me sigh.
Maestro Noboru and Miss Ayumi broke into a loud round of applause for Kon when she removed her hands from the keyboard. Naturally, I’d started applauding without even thinking.
Ah, how long and how far must I chase after you before I finally catch up?
I wordlessly passed by Kon, her cheeks flushed from exertion.
Even if there are no winners or losers in music, I want to perform side by side with you without being ashamed of my performance.
“I am going to play ‘Rondeau’ and ‘Capriccio’ from Bach’s Partita No. 2,” I informed my teachers, took a deep breath, and placed my hands on the keys.
Bach – Partita No. 2 in C minor, BWV 826
With great care, I played the songs which required superior technique and precision from note to note.
The song’s demand on the pianist to use both the right and left hand in the same way makes it difficult to tell which is playing the primary melody. The tempo remains constant.
As I played the song, I repeated the instructions in my head. Avoid stepping on the pedals as much as possible. The trailing notes must be maintained to a certain level. Gently stroke the piano part. Play the second half in a way that brings the music to a rollicking and dramatic ending.
I lifted my hands from the final chord and was greeted by dead silence after the last note.
…U-Uh? They won’t even applaud to be nice?
I glanced at Miss Ayumi and found her staring at me in disbelief. Kon had her eyes firmly pressed together, her hands tightly clasped over her lap.
“Brava! That was quite marvelous, Mashiro.” Only Maestro Noboru clapped his hands for me after a slight delay.
“Mashiro…” Kon said in a feeble voice.
Miss Ayumi lightly shook her head. “There’s nothing left for me to say when you can already play Bach’s Partita that well.”
I was relieved to have secured passing marks.
Kon also clapped for me with a smile.
Thank goodness! It was worth spending these past two months practicing like there’s no tomorrow!
Aside from Maestro Noboru’s assignment pieces, I was spending every day practicing the songs from this partita.
“There will be a large-scale student music competition around this time next year. Would you like to enter it?”
Maestro Noboru frowned at Miss Ayumi’s suggestion. “…A music competition? I can’t stand behind you pigeonholing Mashiro inside their closed-minded boxes at this point in her career.”
“But Mashiro wants to enter them,” Miss Ayumi pointed out.
Maestro Noboru shifted his gaze over to me. “The judging decisions for music competitions aren’t as transparent as you think. I will stand behind you only if you are prepared to accept any result.”
“I’m prepared. I want to enter.”
“I see… How about you, Kon?”
“I won’t enter that competition.”
Miss Ayumi had a suspicious look on her face because both Kon and I had responded immediately, without taking the time to think it over.
I wanted to achieve results in this competition no matter what it took and enroll in Seio for high school. Maybe Kon wanted to avoid competing with me this time. Or maybe she believed the competition would end just like it did in Hear My Heart and wanted to avoid entering when her loss was guaranteed from the start. Only she knew the answer.
“Very well. Since you are going to enter, we should put forth every effort.” Miss Ayumi’s expression suddenly softened and she offered me a gentle smile.
Not opening up about my true motives made me feel like I was betraying Miss Ayumi and her earnest approach to music. And that hurt me.
But it didn’t matter how much it hurt or tormented us; telling the truth was never going to be an option.