chat_16

Schumann is a well-known musician, the organizer of outdoor concerts in the Neuleopoldshof, and the composer of 'Erdenherrenwinter.' At the time of the incident, he was playing the piano onstage and experienced everything that happened firsthand. He has refused visitors until now.

His fingers dance lightly between the keys, the improvised beat matching my gradually-approaching footsteps. When I stop beside him, he ends his impromptu with a graceful glissando.

Professor Schumann, thank you for your time. Could you please tell me what you saw at the time of the incident?

Unfortunately, I don't have a whole lot to say about it. You say that there was a noise that interfered with my performance, but these things happen all the time – for example, the smacking of lips and tongues between audience members unable to control themselves. To be entirely honest, I'm not sure why anyone else would stop playing.

His articulations were deliberate and unrushed. Indeed, he did continue to play even as murmurs arose. However, <color=#d41f1f>there was actually a significant discrepancy between what he played and what was on the score</color>.

Please pardon me, but I've seen your original score. You seem to have made a number of adjustments when performing the third movement live. May I ask what your rationale was at the time?

The performance of music is not a rigid reproduction of the score, especially when the score itself is unsatisfactory. My current mood, my resonance with the opus, as well as any unexpected changes all become part of my interpretation.

To me, music is the voice of the heart. The voice of the heart as it exists at the moment... and only that moment.

His fingers once again perch atop the keys, and the melody that flows forth merges with his words. But at the end, <color=#d41f1f>his fingers produce a subtle yet out-of-place tone</color>.

That being the case, you should've been very satisfied with the performance you put on at the time, and the noise should not have affected you. Is that right?

No... I cannot accept that. That was my worst performance ever, and my expression was completely insufferable! Even as I completed the score, I still failed to understand how my own protagonist, struggling with her fate, felt as she walked into the cold winter of Erdenherre... But why is there a perfect melody in my memory, when I cannot bring it forth anymore...

At the time of the incident: The subject of the interview <color=#d41f1f>was extremely dissatisfied with his performance at the time of the incident</color>. It fell terribly short of his expectations – <color=#d41f1f>but he still conceives of a perfect melody within his mind</color>.

The music of the heart sounds, resonating with the heartstrings of the subject and bringing back memories.

As the melody shows, when you were incensed at your performance yet nevertheless threw yourself into your playing... What did you see right then?

I-I remember now! That's right, I heard it! That voice stepped into my melody, and my own performance followed it so naturally, until I could make sense of it...

Anger! Intense anger! That is the only fitting emotion! You're all wrong – that was not meaningless cacophony. Because it appeared, I was able to craft my perfect melody...

Professor Schumann grew excited, and ignored me to throw himself into his performance. I learned from him that the noise might've contained emotions of anger, and closed this line of investigation.