KOCM

106-110

Chapter 106

Tchaikovsky's 《Symphony No. 6 in B minor》 was also known as the 《Sorrowful Symphony》

Unlike Beethoven's 《Pathétique》, this 《Pathétique》 was overcast and depressive from beginning to end. It was Tchaikovsky's last swan song, describing his life.

Six days after the song's premiere, the composer died, due to ingesting poison.

The piece was divided into four movements. The third had the liveliest allegro. With the violin as the main accompaniment setting the mood, it expressed the busyness of everyone's life through the sound of southern dance.

Bai Ai was undoubtedly skilled. According to Christole, they hadn't rehearsed the third movement yet. But, from the audience, Qi Mu couldn't hear anything glaringly wrong. Other than the occasional error in emotional interpretation and typographical mistakes like missing a beat or a tempo, problems were few and far between.

Such performance would usually take an orchestra two days of rehearsal to reach.

--Qi Mu thought.

His perfect pitch distinguished every sound, and he could hear how unfamiliar with the melody the orchestra was at the beginning, but they gradually began to play in harmony, as if they had rehearsed it countless times.

And all of this. . . Qi Mu knew it wasn't just because the orchestra was skilled.

His gaze shifted to the man standing at the conductor's podium. From his seat, all Qi Mu could see was Min Chen's straight back. He watched the man gently raise his baton and listened as the cello group played a warm melody in succession. When he lowered his arm, the string group stopped, and the wind group began.

Any conductor could control a performance, but a good one could make the piece their own.

Offstage, the young man couldn't stop himself from smiling.

Onstage, Min Chen stared at the clarinet section of the woodwind group. One of the brunettes clutched his clarinet as he trembled nervously, focusing on the score.

A horrible note screeched in his ear, and Min Chen turned a dangerous look on a woman with a pony-tail. She trembled then straightened.

The whole third movement lasted for about 9 minutes, quite short. Other than Christole, the entire orchestra reminded themselves not to make any mistakes and concentrate even harder. As for those who faltered. . .

They could only pray.

At the end of the rehearsal, the clarinetist who made the first mistake raised his head. He nervously looked at the conductor, waiting for the man to admonish him.

To everyone's surprise, the attractive man set down his baton, looked at the clarinetist, and gently asked, "Roger, do you have a cold today?"

Nodding quickly, Roger said, "Yes, Conductor. I have a cold, so I wasn't careful. . ." He shook his head vigorously and explained, "No! Mr. Bertram, I shouldn't have coughed just because I have a cold. I should have taken a leave of absence."

He remembered the last time Martha had a cold. Not only did her bow slip, but she sneezed so loud they had to stop playing. Back then. . . the conductor said--

『Drink more water when you're sick. Did the cold scald your brain, or did you not have one, to begin with, to bring your illness to the orchestra? Go home!』

Today, however, Roger easily admitted his fault and was ready for the expected reprimand. Who would expect the gentle response he got instead? "Well, you should have a good rest when you're sick, Roger. Remember to drink more water, don't let your cold get worse."