The third movement gave way to the final movement. Just how beautiful can I make the octave tremolo sound? Mustering the last of my strength, I added accents to the theme, bringing it to the forefront, and sprinted through it with the image of swaying waves in mind.
I won’t lose. Knock me down as many times as you want, I’ll always get back on my feet and work my way back here. With those feelings, I earnestly fought to reproduce the beautiful series of notes Schumann had composed. I let the last chord ring out and lifted my arms.
As if finishing a marathon at full speed, I panted for air.
Fighting back the desire to flop over, I picked up the handkerchief I left on the music rack at the same time an ear-piercing rumble shook the ground. It was applause. I stood from the bench and faced the audience, where I witnessed member after member standing from their seats clapping. Some people even shouted, “Bravo!” The audience was delighted by my performance in a way I never thought possible for a student competition.
Overjoyed beyond measure, I dropped into a deep bow and slowly walked off the stage. Excitement vibrated through my entire body. My feet were so unsteady on the ground it was hard to believe I didn’t step on my dress and fall flat on my face.
✦ ✦ ✦
♪♪♪
Sadia Francesca Junior Music Competition: Junior High Division Finals: A Critique
✦ ✦ ✦
Each of the five finalists enchanted the audience with their talent, showing a glimpse of what they have in store for us in the future. The world still has this outdated notion that Japanese pianists put on mechanical and uninteresting performances, but I have no doubt that these young contestants will obliterate that false image once they grow up.
Kakeru Tominaga and Mashiro Shimao’s performances in particular stood out as impressive. Kakeru Tominaga’s dynamic rendition of Rachmaninoff’s contemplative “Piano Sonata No. 2” possessed the power to suck the listener right in. The rough parts stood out, but the stately and beguiling nature of his music was truly worthy of Rachmaninoff.
On the other hand, Mashiro Shimao, paying careful attention to detail, showcased a deep understanding of Schumann’s music. I know I wasn’t the only one whose socks were knocked off by the sheer speed she played with during the first movement. If I were to make any critiques, there were certainly a few parts I would comment on. However, not only does she have a technically advanced foundation, she also possesses a unique world unimaginable for a fourteen-year-old. By no means did she bring about a new interpretation, and yet, that can be the only explanation for why her music has a newness to it that makes the listener think they are hearing it for the first time.
✦ ✦ ✦
(Some pieces of this critique have been omitted for space. The rest of the music critic’s comments will be published in the next magazine issue.)
✦ ✦ ✦
♪♪♪
THE finalists gathered in the stage wing after a thirty-minute break. The final results were going to be announced soon. Kakeru smiled when he saw me. The calmness behind his smile took the weight right off my shoulders and made me think, Phew, the competition is over at last.
“Your performance was great.”
“Your performance was phenomenal too. I wish I could’ve performed before you,” I confessed with pursed lips.
Kakeru deliberately twisted his lips and pretended to glare at me. “Good one. You didn’t even feel a tad nervous, did you?”
“I wish. I was shaking in my boots.”
Thanks to that evil Director of yours, I continued in my thoughts. Trying to tear me down right before my performance, that jerk.
If I had ended up putting on a shameful performance because of him, I would’ve flown into a rage and tried to tear Tobi a new one. I shuddered imagining the headline in the next day’s news saying: “Junior Music Competition Finalist Assaults Rival’s Mentor?!”
All the other contestants exuded an unapproachable aura with their faces set in hard scowls. Unfriendly glances were sent our way by people who weren’t too happy with us standing there holding a friendly conversation, but I stopped caring what others thought. Sure, we were rivals during the competition, but we were also two people who loved the piano. There weren’t any rules stating we had to be cold to each other.
As we burned time chatting, Sadia Francesca stepped on stage, followed by the rest of the judging committee. Silence suddenly fell over the boisterous audience. Sadia walked to the middle of the stage and began speaking into the microphone set up on top of the podium. The interpreter standing beside her translated her quickly spoken Italian into Japanese.
“I am honored to have the opportunity to hold a large-scale music competition in Japan like this. I especially felt rejuvenated after having the chance to listen to all of your performances, filled with your youthful spirit. I want to say a special thanks to the finalists who put on lovely piano performances.”
Sadia was supposed to be in her fifties. I expected her to have a low, authoritative voice, but she spoke with a sweet, feathery voice that reminded me of a young girl. She dropped her gaze to the list in her hand once she finished the opening pleasantries. At last, it was time to announce the winner.
Holding my breath, I waited for her to announce the name of the winner next. Even the nonchalant Kakeru had clenched his fists and focused on the stage.
Though I had been obsessed with wanting to win up until my performance, now that it was over, I had this enlightened mindset that I didn’t care who won. There was no point in complaining now that it was done and over with. Maybe I felt that way because I’d done everything I could.
I can go home with my head held high, knowing that I gave it my all.
“Choosing a winner today was exceptionally difficult. Opinions were divided until the end, and no second and third place winners were chosen. Instead, two participants tied for first place,” the interpreter explained, sending waves through the audience.
Nobody expected two first place winners to be selected during the first year of a new music competition. Surprise ran through the finalists standing in the stage wing. Reactions varied from sighs to squeezing handkerchiefs until they wrinkled.
I probably should’ve felt something more about it, but my thoughts were preoccupied with how badly I wanted to go home and get some sleep after barely sleeping last night. My fancy heels were crushing the tip of my toes and rubbing the back of my heel raw.
I want to get home, strip off my heels and this heavy dress, and jump in the tub. Then I’ll take the rest of the day off from the piano and studying and dive into my bed. Yup, sounds like a great plan to me.
“Mashiro Shimao and Kakeru Tominaga,” Sadia fumbled out two names in broken Japanese.
I absently watched Kakeru fist-pump the air. I didn’t realize my name was called until he smacked me lightly on the shoulder.
“C’mon, let’s go!”
“Erm?” I squeaked.
Ever the gentleman, he urged me to walk in front of him. Loud applause surged from the audience, welcoming us onto the brightly lit stage.
“Congratulazioni!” Sadia shook my hand then pulled me into a friendly hug. Praised by the piano virtuoso I’d always looked up to, I lost all bearing on where I was in the moment. Only the sound of thundering applause rang in my ears.