Kapitel 145: Chapter 145: Her Final Performance part 5
On the stage lit by lights, a woman kneeling in front of a small tombstone had suddenly grown into her mid-twenties. She placed a bouquet of chrysanthemums on the tombstone and looked down at it with sad eyes as she began to speak.
"People are born bearing the tragedy that they must become adults,
Leaving the nest and sanctuary to venture into the battlefield of life,
The fight to lose everything loved and to create anew the things to be loved
Seems to be an unavoidable tragedy.
Why is it that the depth of love is only realized through the pain of separation?
Love becomes a path for oneself,
Love becomes a cliff for oneself,
Love is all the names in this world,
Love is all the words in this world.
Chris! My love, are you watching me?
I have become regret,
For loving and expecting more,
For unnecessarily throwing tantrums at you over my many disappointments,
Though you might have thought I was just bad-tempered,
There was no reason for you to understand such tantrums of mine,
Yet, to you, who just smiled and understood me, I can't even offer a single apology now,
That makes me filled with regret."
The woman sang quietly, not exploding with emotion but as if an aged woman was reciting, and this resonated more deeply with the audience than an explosion of emotion would have. Just as tears were wiped away or faces appeared angered among the audience, struggling to contain their rising emotions, Geon reappeared in white clothes. Some of the audience, mistaking him for Chris returned to life, began to cheer, but upon seeing the clothes Geon wore, their cheers turned to sighs of disappointment. Geon approached the despairing woman and puffed his cheeks, blowing air over her head. Whether it was an audio effect or not, a loud gust of wind blew, causing the woman's bowed head to flutter in the breeze. As she lifted her head in response to the sudden wind, she looked around bewildered. Having not exploded in emotion until now, the woman's eyes suddenly overflowed with tears like a waterfall. She briskly rose to her feet, gathered her hands to her chest, and sang.
"Chris, is it you?
If only I could be with you for a moment,
I could give you my dreams.
To rejoice in being together for even a moment,
Not to resent for not liking more,
To be satisfied with loving this much,
Not to blame for only yearning,
To be thankful for being able to love even in a pathetic manner,
Not to tire from a love that only gives,
To hurt for not being able to give more,
I am confident I can keep a pure love for a long time.
Chris, is it you?
Have you returned to me with this wind?"
As the woman stretched out her hands to the surrounding wind, looking deranged, a tear shed unknowingly by Norman was wiped away as he sighed and smirked at Carlos sitting beside him, who had been crying enough to soak his handkerchief.
Geon, who had been blowing the wind from behind the woman, now approached her from behind and embraced her warmly. The woman, exhausted from crying and losing focus, dropped her arms weakly, and Geon gently wrapped his arms around her neck, whispering not a song but a line of dialogue.
"Life goes on, and there is still plenty of time to dream. The moment regret replaces dreams, a person starts to age. But don't hold back your tears, cry when you want to. Let it wash over you and acknowledge it."
The audience held their breath, focusing on the words as if they were music itself. Geon then covered the woman's eyes, and the beautiful man standing behind her became more attractive as he obscured her vision. Geon, licking his bright red lips with a tongue slightly, whispered in the woman's ear.
"Music is your own experience, your wisdom. The emotions you feel in life will all be captured in your music. Do you only wish to be happy? The emotions in your music should encompass all the emotions of the world, not just happiness. Don't become a shameless liar just to make good songs. Sing your emotions truthfully and plainly. It will strike the ears of the public as the sound of truth."
Geon's expression might have seemed malicious, but instead, it looked dangerously sexy, leaving the female audience agape. Music experts were shocked not by Geon's appearance but by the sound of his voice. Norman, in particular, was halfway out of his seat, gaping.
"This... This voice! It's not human, it's as if a god is whispering! A voice containing divine ideas beyond human judgment of right and wrong!"
Norman's exclamation spread among the audience, and as Geon's voice resonated, causing ripples in their hearts, Carlos gently pushed Norman down, whispering for calm.
"Norman, the performance is ongoing. Calm your excitement."
As Norman composed
himself, but barely sitting at the edge of the sofa, Geon, still covering the woman's eyes, began to sing a serene song. Though it was not dialogue, Geon's voice cut through the audience like a sharp knife.
"Flowing water can be written about,
But the sound of flowing water cannot be captured in words,
Burning fire can be written about,
But the sound of burning cannot be written,
Swords and shields can be written about,
But the sound of them clashing cannot be captured,
Close your eyes to all wars of the world,
Quietly enter into the country of music, the land of faith,
There, all despair and pain will be forgotten in the sound waves of the music sea,
Only music can cleanse the soul from the dust of everyday life."
As if brainwashing or forcefully pushing his story into the woman's head, Geon's voice made the woman wipe away her tears. Slowly calming down, the woman gradually lifted her hands from her eyes as Geon stepped back into the shadows. The stage lights dimmed, and once again, the voice from behind the curtain filled the air.
"I immersed myself in music like a madwoman, to forget Chris, as the music whispered to me. It was an impossible feat for a black woman to stand on the opera stage back then. Yet, I did not waste a single day, a single hour. Truthfully, it was more to forget Chris than to fulfill my dream, and at the same time, to remember him forever."
As the silhouette of the woman hidden behind the curtain stood up, Leontine Price walked out, eliciting gasps from the audience. Over 90 years old, she wore a purple dress, her demeanor not that of a frail musician but a still majestic black swan. As Leontine Price smiled and walked to the front of the stage, her parents, her deceased brother, and students from Juilliard all came out to stand behind her.
As Leontine Price turned to face the audience, locking eyes with them one by one, she began to sing, causing many in the audience to grip their hands nervously. Her voice, rich yet capable of high notes, was not something one could comfortably sit and listen to.
"My hometown is along the Mississippi River,
Passing small hills and even smaller fields,
Nestled in a tranquil path.
Every spring, we'd warmly welcome the familiar poverty that bloomed.
It was that kind of home."
Leontine Price reflected on her impoverished childhood, but her expression was not sad. With a gentle smile, she seemed like an old woman reminiscing about old memories.
"I wanted to tell you
Before you left, about the life I lived
I wanted to hold your hand and talk about myself
If you come looking for me in the distant future
I'll say I forgot
If you reproach me for forgetting you
I'll say I grew tired of waiting and forgot
If you still feel hurt
I'll say I couldn't believe it and forgot
Though I haven't forgotten today or yesterday
If you come looking for me in the distant future, I'll say I forgot"
As Leontine Price sang alone, backed by student actors, Geon appeared in white clothes. Turning with a smile, Leontine Price extended her hand to Geon, who grinned back and joined her side. As they faced the audience together, Carlos murmured.
"Are they finally accepting the music and singing together? What harmony will this world-class diva and K show us?"
While Leontine Price remained relaxed and smiling, Geon looked serious and slightly tense. As their mouths opened to sing, Norman and Carlos stood up abruptly, joined by more than half the audience, disbelieving their ears.
"A male voice reaching higher than a female soprano? Impossible!"
"Madness! A man achieving this vocal range? His throat would burst!"
As Geon's voice climaxed, surpassing the high notes sung by Leontine Price, the audience felt a profound impact.
"Singing about life more difficult than death
On a sunny winter day, on that mountain path, we met
The silver harmony supported me
After losing love, I sang
Farewell, my short nights
My remaining loves wandering outside the window
The candles swaying in the wind, knowing nothing
The tears replacing my remaining hesitations
Desires no longer mine
Blindly, I gather my remaining strength to lock the door
Ensuring the last love in my heart cannot escape"
As the audience, rising to focus on the voices of Geon and Leontine Price, felt their legs give out and collapsed back onto the sofas, the performance was transmitted worldwide, shocking many who couldn't attend.
Students and faculty from top music conservatories worldwide were speechless, and countless journalists watching the performance through their PCs were busy at work.
Exhausted from the shock, Norman Lebrecht deeply sank into the sofa, murmuring to himself.
"This is madness... Worse than the Bronx Zoo, this is."
Hiding behind the stage curtain and absentmindedly watching Geon's profile as he took the stage, Kiska slipped out the back door of the stage and scurried down the quiet opera house corridor during the performance. As she cautiously opened the door to the opera house's rear audience entrance, Kiska's view expanded from the limited side stage to the full view of the stage.
Immediately upon opening the door, Kiska was not greeted by the splendid stage or the shining figure of Leontine Price singing with Geon. Instead, the first thing Kiska felt was the intense warmth generated by the audience's focus, enveloping her small body, which looked about six years old due to her significantly smaller stature than other children her age, as she stepped through the door. The warm breeze fluttered her sky-blue dress.
With her big eyes wide open, Kiska's gaze landed on Geon, who was holding Leontine Price's hand, singing with great focus.
"Everything begins with a dream.
Nothing is possible without dreams!
First, have a dream.
Those who dream for a long time
Eventually become like that picture they dream of.
Dream big.
Even if that dream breaks,
The fragments of a big dream will remain large."
The soprano aria that burst from Geon pierced through little Kiska's body. Her legs trembling, she clutched the back seat tightly, unable to take her eyes off the stage. What began as a playful opera performance turned into a game of finding hidden pictures for Kiska as she wrote down phrases inspired by Professor Corigliano's music and Professor Price's synopsis and then worked to make each phrase shine the same way. However, this was no longer a game for Kiska watching the outcome. That day, Kiska dreamt a different kind of dream for the first time, not the kind she had at night.
"You don't have to stand there! I just want to be close to that shining place!"
As the final chorus of Leontine Price, Geon, and the student actors reached Kiska's ears, they sang together with serious faces, some with smiles, and others with bright laughter. Leontine Price, stepping forward, began to sing to the audience and the world, locking eyes with each member as if conveying a final message, with Geon behind her, arms stretched wide as if to embrace everyone.
"Learn something new,
Try something new,
And make magnificent mistakes.
Mistakes are your asset."
As the other actors silenced and slightly bowed their heads, Leontine Price alone, locking eyes with the audience, sang with a clear voice as melodious as the song of a canary.
"Don't excuse your youth for your inadequacies,
Nor blame age and honors for your laziness.
The biggest enemy of dreams is fear.
The biggest mistake you can make in life
Is being so afraid to make a mistake
That you don't dare to try."
Leontine Price then placed both hands on her left chest and smiled warmly at the audience.
"Look at me,
Look directly at me standing before you now,
At me, who has gone through numerous wars and poverty.
I don't wish my future for you.
Because you can be a better person than me.
My final wish,
The last song I want to convey to you,
Is that you dream.
Whether you're a young student or in your middle years,
If you have dreams you haven't realized yet, go for them.
That's the last thing
I want to tell you."
As Leontine Price's final speech ended, the music stopped, and the actors raised their heads, locking eyes with each audience member as if to send a message. To have dreams, not to give up, to look at the hellish path she had tread, to behold the splendid end of a dreamer.
The actors' silence lingered. The audience, contemplating what they had given up in life, couldn't even think to applaud. Leontine Price, with a gentle smile, slightly bent her knees and turned to look at Geon, whose entire body was drenched in sweat from the intensity of his performance. As he smiled brightly at her, she opened her arms and hugged him.
"Thank you, Kay."
As she expressed her gratitude, Geon, touching her back, quietly said,
"Goodbye, diva of the world, Professor Leontine Price."
A tear streaked down the professor's cheek at Geon's words. Leontine Price, who lived a life full of hardships yet never gave up on her dreams, had become a global diva with the help of music. Now, at 90, she returned to the moment of her debut in the opera "Aida" at 22. She thought she would never feel the satisfaction that enveloped her entire body after her first performance again, but as she trembled with the same sensation, her tear-streaked face bore the brightest smile she could muster. Stepping forward, she bowed
deeply to the audience.
Perhaps receiving what might be her last bow, an elderly female audience member, wiping her face with a handkerchief, stood up and shouted,
"Bravi!"
Awakened from their reverie by the elderly audience member's tearful shout, the audience rose, clapping and cheering as loudly as they could.
"Bravi! Bravi!"
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!"
"The best performance ever! It was the best!"
An elderly gentleman, his face smeared with tears, couldn't even stand up from the sofa, his body shaking as he clapped, and a young woman, seemingly a student, covered her mouth with her hands, unable to take her eyes off the ended stage, crying.
Norman nodded at the audience's reaction.
'Her last performance has ended like this. It will remain a legend for a while. But, Leontine Price, are you satisfied? Listen to the audience's shouts. They're shouting "Bravi," not "Brava." They see the star of this stage not just as you but as both you and Kay. Are you truly satisfied, Professor?'
In Norman's sympathetic gaze, Leontine Price, receiving thunderous applause, hugged each of the students on stage. After embracing everyone, she shouted with joy,
"Now, I pass my dream on to you."
Geon caught a glimpse of a suddenly aged and weary Leontine Price. Even during the performance, the dignified black diva looked significantly older after her last performance. Geon, with a pained expression, supported her as she looked at him and smiled faintly.
"It's a bit hard. Shall we go in?"
"Yes, Professor. I will take you."
As Geon and Leontine Price exited the stage, and the audience's excitement hadn't even subsided, the curtain slowly closed. There were no encore requests since it was neither a musical nor a concert, but the audience, continuing to applaud and call for a curtain call, gradually left as the curtain did not reopen. Journalists watching the ended stage on their PCs began to pour out hundreds of articles in real time.
"The dazzling final appearance of the Diva of the Century!"
"Over 100 million audience members' cheers! Three hours of emotion!"
"The aria of the angel of the present, Kay! Touching!"
"The last message of the world's crying black diva"
"The best performance! The best planning! The best song!"
"The best lyrics! Stirring the heart! A special feature on Kiska Miočić's re-light"
"John Corigliano, my best music!"
"British critic Norman Lebrecht, a performance that needs no words!"
After the audience left, on the empty stage soaked in the emotion of the performance, Kiska, sitting alone on the back sofa with a blank expression, spotted a woman standing alone on the stage. With her eyes wide open, Kiska looked closely, tears welling up in her large eyes. Mumbling with her lips, Kiska's eyes filled with tears as she pointed at the woman on stage, seeing her mother with a bright smile, arms wide open.
Having thought she would never see her again, with every dream encounter ending in her mother's death, Kiska, now old enough to know the reality of dreams and illusions, did not rush to her but simply watched silently. Her mother, who had been smiling brightly, came down from the stage, walked through the empty audience seats, and approached her. As her mother came closer and extended her hand, asking,
"Kiska, why are you crying?"
As her mother spoke, her appearance changed to Geon, concerned and extending his hand. Kiska's tears flowed more abundantly as she reached out her arms, begging to be hugged. Geon, looking at her with pity despite her silent crying, picked her up, wiped her tears, and asked,
"Kiska? What happened?"
Hugging Geon's neck and crying, Kiska just clung to him tighter without saying a word. Geon, puzzled but comforting her, carried the girl to the green room. The student actors had already left, and Leontine Price, her mascara smeared by tears, was left alone in front of the mirror in the green room. Geon, intending to say something, looked at Leontine Price reflected in the mirror for a while, then quietly closed the door and sat outside on a bench. Kiska, unwilling to leave his side, looked down at the closed door of the green room with a complicated gaze.
'What will my last appearance be like? Will I disappear into a whirlwind of futility like the Professor?'
For Geon, witnessing a musician's last moment was a first. Without ever contemplating his own end, these fragments of time and thought left him merely confused. Someone's hand rested on Geon's shoulder after a moment of deep thought. Startled by the touch, Geon looked up to see Leontine
Price, now seemingly refreshed and brightly smiling.
"Ah! Professor! Are you ready to go?"
As Geon quickly stood up, holding Kiska, Leontine Price nodded slightly and said,
"Yes, I'm ready now. Shall we leave?"
Sensing something unusual in her tone, Geon hesitated to respond, but she smiled and took the first step towards the opera house exit. Watching her lonely back as he held Kiska, Geon hurriedly followed when he saw Leontine Price waving at him from the distant entrance.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein