pianist from the sea

Chapter 10 The Three Kingdoms of East Asia
The two sat in the concert hall, listening to the players playing the piano seriously, from around one o'clock in the afternoon until seven o'clock in the evening.

Without any interruption, I just listened to that place, listened to the interpretations of players from other countries, and their understanding of Chopin.

Then, they were numb.

The reason is very simple. The works performed by those contestants are almost the same. From the first one in the afternoon to the present, there are almost a dozen contestants. Their performances are basically Chopin’s No. [-], Ballade No. [-], and a few particularly famous ones. Etudes, as well as Chopin's Nocturnes, Mazurkas and the like.

There is no difference.

This is not the performance of some master, but it is very good for ordinary people, but it is full of holes for those top pianist judges.

This afternoon, there wasn't any particularly awesome player, and the players who came out were basically ordinary.

Their skills are not as good as Fu Tiao.

Fu Tiao and Yu Tianyou were sitting behind the judges. Looking at some of the judges' handwriting, it seemed that they were all around 18 points. Converted into a percentage system, it was about 70 points.

Barely passing, but higher is definitely not enough.

When the judges changed shifts during the intermission, Yu Tianyou whispered in that place.

"Today's qualifiers are really ugly. It's so ugly that I want to run away, really! Did you hear what those people played? What did they play? They played about the same as me. At their level, they still want to enter the first place." What about the wheel? What about dreaming?"

Fu Tiao leaned on the back of the chair, stroked his chin, narrowed his eyes slightly, and did not speak.

He felt a little strange, this strange feeling haunted him all the time, but he didn't know how to express it.

There are some things in these people's performances... He has never seen it before.

Not at all in the jazz music he played before.

Not even seen in classical music he's ever heard.

This feeling haunted him all the time, and he had to put part of his thoughts on this place.

This thing... what is it?
Yu Tianyou didn't notice Fu Tiao's expression, he sat there and continued to complain in a low voice.

"It's outrageous, Chopin can still play like this? Just that player, what's his name? Forgot, it seems to be a player from Latvia, did you hear that? When he dealt with certain details, he felt special. It's so strange that people can't figure it out at all, and they don't know why he has to deal with it like that, aren't you fooling around?"

"You don't need logic to learn music? Your sounds are so weird that you can't understand them at all, okay? Music also has language! You call that music? Are you kidding me?"

"I don't know if it's an illusion. The player who seemed to be from Poland just now felt super strange when he played it. The sound is the same, but it sounds completely different from the same piece. I even thought he changed the piece, or the piano. There is something wrong with the strings, the pitch is out of tune, etc., but I never thought, that is his personal style? It sounds so strange! I secretly noticed the expressions of the judges, and they seemed to feel that they were not good enough. Everyone's brows are frowning, and it seems that there is only one judge with a flat expression?"

After finishing speaking, he stopped suddenly, turned his head to look at Fu Tiao, and asked.

"Did you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"Personal style, and Chopin?" Yu Tianyou frowned, rearranged his language, and said.

"Have you ever heard him play Chopin, how much is personal about him?"

"Personal stuff? What personal stuff?"

Fu Tiao couldn't help but stop, he didn't understand.

I feel that the music these people talk about is very different from the music he has learned before. This feeling is very, very strange.

Yu Tianyou seemed to sense something, and muttered softly.

"Sure enough, that person is right. The judges of this year's Chopin International Piano Competition have completely changed their understanding of Chopin. It seems that they pay more attention to the works than to the performers themselves."

"This year's Dongying and South Korea players...may be about to take off, no, maybe, can they bring along Deng Jiajun?"

"As for the European and American players who previously had a geographical advantage, it may really... have a big problem!"

As he spoke, Yu Tianyou's expression became interesting. He stroked his fingers, showing a hint of interest.

Although he may not be able to enter the first round, he has a higher sense of pleasure for this kind of information collection than entering the next round.

In other words, he prefers to watch some players go astray because of their own choices.

Or predict their scores in advance, and watch everything go on the predetermined track according to your own ideas.

This sense of pleasure made him deeply immersed in it and couldn't extricate himself.

Boom boom boom! ! !
While everyone was watching the contestant, the judge behind knocked on the table and started arguing with another judge next to him, as if they had completely different views on the contestant in front of him.

It's just that Fu Tiao and Yu Tianyou couldn't understand their language at all, so they could only hear a general idea.

The judge seemed to notice that his quarrel had affected other people, so he could not help but clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and sighed slowly.

The contestant on the stage also seemed to be affected a little bit. He noticed the quarrel between the two judges from the corner of his eyes, and even his piano sound could not help but feel a little nervous.

Yu Tianyou immediately gloated and said.

"Hahahaha, the judges quarreled and the contestant suffered. This contestant is finished. He still had a chance to enter the main round. Now it seems that... he is finished."

In fact, just as Yu Tianyou said, his nervousness immediately made the other judges shake their heads together.

Many feelings in the music are gone, only tension remains.

And tension happens to be the last thing in Chopin's music.

The judge looked at the contestants in front of him, and became even more angry. He could only shake his head fiercely, and lay on the chair with his arms folded, with an indifferent expression, waiting for the end of the performance.

When the contestant's 30 minutes were over and the staff came to the stage to announce, he immediately got up, threw the pen in his hand to the table, spit, and whispered in a voice that only a few people nearby could hear.

"You guys are killing the Chopin International Piano Competition. Our competition will only mass-produce Chopin players, not pianists! What we need is a pianist, not a second Chopin!"

"But, this is the Chopin International Piano Competition!"

Another person poked the wooden table with a pen, making a similar sound.

　Deadlifting 100kg hurt my waist, it hurts

　　
　
(End of this chapter)