Opus One

Chapter 20: Passacaglia

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“So what do you think of the piano sound?” Dave asked Richard.

Richard stood up from Jarrett’s chair in front of the speakers.  “It’s really rich.  I’m used to hearing this piano from the piano bench, so it sounds a little different.  But still nice.  Really nice.”

“Good.  I’m happy with it too.  Man, I just love this concert hall.  Jarrett, what do you think?”

“Smooth work, Dave.  Let’s record some so Irina can hear it,” Jarrett replied.

Richard sat in his chair, to Jarrett’s left, and double checked that the tapes were cued and ready.  “I’m ready to go,” he announced.

Jarrett pushed the button on the talkback microphone.  “Irina?”

“Yes?”

“We will record a sound check.  Please play for a few more minutes and then we will listen.”

Richard started the tapes and wrote the take information on his log sheet, while Jarrett did the same.  Dave sat in Jarrett’s seat one last time and closed his eyes as he listened to the sound of the instrument.

So far, the recording session had been hard work, but lots of fun as well.  That afternoon, Dave had rented a truck and Richard had helped him load up road cases with the needed equipment.  The hall they chose for the recording was only twenty minutes from the conservatory, but the equipment would have been impossible to transport in a car, so the truck was chosen.

Since Richard had only worked in the Wexford control room, which was permanently set up, it was interesting to see how the recorders, speakers and microphones were all connected from scratch.  Richard gained new appreciation for Dave as he explained why he set things up a certain way.  The microphone preamps were set up on the stage, for example, which Dave said made for a quieter noise level. 

Upon arrival at the hall earlier that day, Richard had been surprised to see Irina’s piano, the one on which he took his lessons in her studio at the conservatory.  The old worn instrument had been delivered earlier in the day, and had been tuned up before they arrived. 

Richard figured that Irina was most comfortable with this instrument, but the piano also sounded incredible in the hall.  Once the microphones were up and working, Dave had had Richard play the piano so that Dave could start working on the microphone placement.  Freed from the confines of the small room at Wexford, each note sang out purely, supported by the reverberant space.  Richard quickly lost himself in the playing, only snapping out of it when Dave would come out to adjust the microphones or preamp levels.

“That’s great playing Richard.  Maybe we should record you!” Dave said.

Richard chuckled modestly, and offered his assistance with the technical aspect of the setup.

“Nah, just keep playing,” Dave said, waving a hand.

Once Irina had arrived, things became more businesslike.  Dave stressed to Richard the importance of keeping the artist happy, and that meant being invisible as much as possible.  Dave did say that having Richard play earlier had sped up the setup process significantly, and he was appreciative of that. 

As Irina played for the sound check, Richard wondered if they’d really need all five evening sessions.  It seemed like a long time just to record an hour of music. 

When Irina finished playing, he paused the tapes, and cued up the main tape so Irina could listen to the playback.  There seemed to be so many things to remember, what with the time sheets and playbacks and levels.  I hope I don’t screw this up!

Irina made the short walk from the stage to the makeshift control room, and Jarrett invited her to sit in the listening chair.  When she was ready, Richard started the tape.  While Jarrett and Dave took turns standing behind Irina, Richard sat still in his seat, not wanting to distract his teacher.

Irina listened closely to the sound check, and then nodded when it was finished. 

“Yes, that is very nice.  But something is not...”  She paused.

“Yes?” Dave urged.

“I don’t know what it is.  What do you think, Richard?” Irina asked, turning to him.

“I like it,” he said, concealing his surprise at having been asked his opinion.  “On that last playback, though, I was wondering if there was a little too much ringing.  Some parts seemed slightly washed out.  Like here,” he said, flipping to a spot in the score.

“Yes, that is what it is,” Irina said slowly, nodding thoughtfully.

“I didn’t know if it was the pedal or something,” Richard said.

Irina frowned.  “I could change that, but here I do not use the pedal and it still sounded that way.”

“Let me make a microphone adjustment,” Dave said.  “It may be that the sound has a touch too much reverb from the hall.  We can try it and listen to it.”

Richard followed Irina and Dave out to the stage.  Irina sat and played again, as Dave moved the microphones slightly lower and closer to the piano.

“Play for a few more minutes and then we’ll listen.”

Richard hurried to the control room to start the tapes, not needing to be told. 

After Irina finished the same section, the verdict in the control room was that it was an improvement.

“Is that better?” Irina asked, as she came in.

“Listen and see,” Dave said evenly, not wanting to color her opinion.

Irina smiled and sat in the chair.  Again she listened intently. 

Dave had explained the importance of getting the sound just right to Richard as they had adjusted the microphones and settings for the past few hours.  Any regrets would be easier to fix now rather than later, he had explained.  Richard was glad they were getting close to having things set. 

“Excellent,” Irina proclaimed as the section finished.  “That seems to help, and I also will be careful not to overplay on those parts.  I think that this is even better than our last CD.”

“Good!” Dave said. 

“A short break, and then we’ll begin?” Jarrett suggested.

“I am ready now,” Irina countered.

“Even better, then!” Jarrett said.

Richard took his place, and readied the tapes as Jarrett flipped the score back to the first movement.  There was a sudden optimistic excitement in the room, as the session prepared to start in earnest. 

“Richard, if you hear anything amiss, just say so,” Jarrett said.  “Don’t be shy.”

Dave laughed from his chair on Jarrett’s other side.  “Yeah, Jarrett needs all the help he can get!”

Richard tried not to laugh, out of respect.  Even Jarrett chuckled a little, however, so Richard did as well.  Dave and Jarrett were very laid back, and constantly cracking jokes.  Even Irina seemed less formal at the session, Richard thought.  Then again, we haven’t started recording.

After checking that everything was ready for the last time, Dave gave Richard the go ahead, and he started the tapes.  Jarrett checked with Irina to see that she was ready, and then spoke into the microphone again.

“Sonata, movement one, take one.”

Here we go, Richard thought, a rush of excitement flashing through him.

Being tired from the first two late night recording sessions didn’t mix well with Dr. Dobra’s class, particularly with Richard seemingly called on to sing every in-class sight singing example. 

While Dobra usually spread the torture around the class, keeping meticulous track in that annoying ledger of his, this week he had been focusing only on a few students.  Richard noted with some disgust that he was in a select group that included Ethan Deerfield, who came to class about fifty percent of the time, and usually late at that.  Richard had no idea how Ethan was still in the class.

Richard groaned as Dr. Dobra called him to the board. 

“I guess it’s ‘Pick-on-the-class-retards’ week,” he whispered to Sandra, as he slowly got up.

She just offered him a sympathetic smile.

“Richard.  Please write up on the board what I play on the piano,” Dr. Dobra said.

Richard grimaced, tempted to write up ‘What I Play On The Piano’.  While the class would probably find it funny, he doubted Doberman would. 

Usually everyone was allowed to work at their desks and then put up their work when called on.  It was only when Dr. Dobra felt like making an example of someone that he had them go through the whole process in front of everyone.  If he wasn’t so tired, Richard might have been angry.

Despite a general fuzziness in his ears from the hours of intense listening the evening before, he made sure to listen carefully to the starting note and key that Dobra offered.  Not doing so was deadly, as he had learned on his midterm.

Unfortunately, Dobra chose a difficult example, and Richard struggled with the melody.  The three plays of the melody flew by before he could grasp at the notes.  His memory of the tune faded quickly amid thoughts of sleep. 

Blinking and looking at the board, he stifled a yawn as he tried to fill in the gaps in what he had written. 

At last, he put the chalk down.  “That’s all I can do,” he said.

Richard didn’t have to look at Dobra’s face to know that he wasn’t impressed.

“I see,” Dobra said simply.  “Sandra, can you help Richard out?” he called to her.

Sandra came up to the board, and picked up the chalk from the tray.  She gave Richard another sympathetic look, before fixing and completing the melody he had started.  In a few places she hummed to herself, checking an interval or rhythm.  She didn’t even bring her paper up.

Richard didn’t even know if she was right.  He had forgotten the melody already.

“Yes, yes.  Excellent, Sandra.  You even caught the triplet rhythm there, yes,” Dr. Dobra praised. 

His tone of voice with her is always so different.  Bastard... Richard thought. 

Dobra stood a moment longer admiring her work as if it were a fine painting. 

It’s just a fucking dictation, man!

“This is the type of thing we will be seeing on the final,” he announced.  “It’s a little trickier than what we’ve been doing so far, so please examine it carefully.  We will have a quiz next week.  See you on Wednesday.”

As Richard and Sandra started towards their seats to collect their things, Dr. Dobra signaled to them.

“Richard, Sandra, I need to speak with each of you for a moment.  Er, do either of you have class right after this?”

“I don’t,” Sandra said.

“I do,” Richard said.

“Would you mind waiting outside while I speak with Richard first?” he said to Sandra.

“Sure,” she said.

Richard felt his stomach knot up.  Richard stood idly while the class exited the room.  At last the door closed and all was quiet. 

Dr. Dobra turned from his ledger and looked at Richard seriously. 

“I won’t keep you long.  I am strongly recommending that you find someone to help you with your ear training and sight singing.  I never see you come to my office hours.  Your performance since the midterm has not been that great.”

“It’s only been a week,” Richard said.  “I’m working on it.”

Dr. Dobra seemed to see through Richard’s words.  “Only a week... Only...  How many weeks are left in the semester, Richard?”  Dobra made a show of counting the vertical lines in his ledger.  “Five.  In five weeks, you will be taking your final.  I think you should consider the importance of each week that passes.  You are running out of time.”

Richard just nodded.  It was all he could do to stay on his feet.  “I’ll find someone to work with.  Maybe Sandra can help me.”

Dobra frowned.  “Perhaps.  But you should probably choose someone who is...”  He paused, and then waved his hand vaguely.  “I am giving you as many opportunities to practice in class as I can.  Clearly, you need to put more time in than that.”

“Okay, I will.”

Dr. Dobra gave Richard a long stare, and then nodded.  “Please tell Sandra to come in, when you leave.”

Richard gathered his things, and then left the room without a backward glance.

Sandra stood up from the chair she was waiting in.  “Everything all right?” she asked, concern on her face.  Richard’s face was drawn, and his eyes were heavy. 

“Um, not really.  He says I need to get help with ear training.  Sounds like if I don’t get my act together I’m not going to do well in the class.  As in not pass the class.”

“Oh no.  Do you have to go to his office hours?”

“No way!” Richard said quietly, showing what emotion he could muster.  “Let’s talk later.  You better get in there, or he’ll be pissed.”

“Okay.  I’ll see you after your English class?”

“No, I’m cutting, and going to go sleep.  I’m about to pass out.”

Sandra looked at him for a long moment, and then caressed his arm.  “Okay.”

“Come find me after you talk with him,” Richard said.

“You’ll be sleeping.”

“No, you probably won’t be in there long.  Just come, please?”

“All right, I will.” 

Sandra smiled and slipped into the classroom, closing the door.  Dr. Dobra was seated at the piano, playing some chords.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked, approaching the crook of the piano.

“Yes, Sandra.”

“Is it about Richard?”

Dr. Dobra frowned.  “Richard?  No, no.  It’s about you.  I was really impressed by your dictation skills today.  Well, all semester really, but today’s example was challenging, for sure.  You seemed to have no trouble with it.”

“I guess.”

“You’re too good to be in this class.  I wanted to see if you were interested in moving up to the higher level class I am teaching.”

“Um, I don’t know.  Don’t I need to take the four semesters consecutively?”

Dr. Dobra smiled.  “No, not necessarily.  Did you take a theory placement exam when you came to audition?”

“I think so.”

“Odd.  They should have placed you in a higher class from the start.  Well, it doesn’t matter.  You could still move up now, if you want to.  You would finish your theory requirement a year earlier, which means you could go on to higher levels, or pursue other classes.  It’s a good idea; I strongly urge you to consider it.”

“But... won’t I be missing a year of the basics?”

“I don’t think you need it.  Here, let’s try something, just to be sure.  Write down this melody.  Key of A flat, in four-four.”

Sandra hurried to the board and translated the details into music symbols. 

“First note is middle C.”

Dr. Dobra played a melody.  It was longer and much more complex than the example from the class, and at first Sandra felt a little lost. 

Instead of rushing to guess at the melody, though, she considered it carefully in her head.  She replayed it, feeling the intervals and how they led through an imaginary accompaniment. 

Dr. Dobra watched carefully.  “Do you need more time before I play it again?” he asked, after she hadn’t written more than the starting note.

“No, I just need to hear it once more.”

Dr. Dobra nodded and played the melody again.  This time it clicked for Sandra and she started to write.  In a few moments, she had the first phrase notated.  The second phrase started the same way, but then...  She needed the third listen.

Dr. Dobra played it once more, and Sandra finished writing the melody on the board.  He watched as she put the last note in place, and nodded slowly.

“Hmm...”

“Is that even close?” Sandra asked. 

“Oh yes, very close.  There is just one mistake.  Completely trivial, but you forgot a flat on your key signature.”

Sandra frowned, and then laughed.  “Oops.”  She added the fourth flat to the staff.

“Which is, of course, irrelevant,” Dr. Dobra added, his voice excited.  “Amazing.  You are completely wasting your time in this class.  That’s an example of the melodies we do in fourth semester theory classes, and the students in there find it difficult.” 

Dr. Dobra sat at the piano again, with some excitement.  “Here, try this harmonic dictation.  Er, B-flat.  Four-four.  Four voices.”  He looked at Sandra with narrowed eyes.

“Um, okay, I’ll try, but...”

She drew out the double staves with clefs and two flats on each, feeling a little nervous. 

Dr. Dobra played the progression slowly.  Sandra split her listening up between the voices, trying to capture the music and transform it into a chorus singing their parts.  The bass part rises there, contrary to the melody...  The inner voices are in parallel here...  Ends on the...  five chord?  Yes, there’s a lack of resolution...

“Is it too...” Dr. Dobra began to say after she stood still for a long moment without writing anything.

“Shh!” Sandra reacted before thinking.  “Oh, sorry!” she squeaked, realizing she had just shushed a teacher.

Dr. Dobra waved her apology away and pointed to the board eagerly.

“I need to hear it again,” she said.

“Well, of course!” Dr. Dobra said, and he played the chords again.

Sandra began to write.  It was like she had a chorus at her command inside her mind.  She told each section to sing its part a few times, and she merely copied down what they sang. 

Dr. Dobra rose up from the piano bench slowly, and stood by her side as he watched her place the notes along the staff. 

Sandra felt a little strange with him standing so close, but she finished the notation, filling in the last few gaps in the inner voices.

Dr. Dobra was speechless for a long moment as he examined the work.  At last he turned to her.

“You’ve never had theory training?” he asked quietly. 

“No.”

“You got it right,” he said simply.  “I don’t know how, but with only two listens, you got every note correct, even here.  Do you even know what this chord is called?” he asked her, pointing to the penultimate beat.

“Um, no.  I guess it’s...  F-sharp seventh?”

Dr. Dobra laughed gently.  “Well, yes and no.  I can tell that you haven’t had training.  You have the notation of someone who has not been trained.  Which is to be expected, of course!  But your ear is exceptional.”

“So if it’s not an F-sharp seventh, then what is it?” Sandra asked, ignoring Dr. Dobra’s praise. 

“It doesn’t matter for now.  The terminology will be something you need to learn.  But in a way, you don’t need it.”

“What do you mean?” Sandra asked. 

“Many people learn to recognize things through the terms they have learned.  We spend weeks at a time here at Wexford drilling into people what this and that chord, interval, progression, et cetera, is... What they sound like.  The hope is that they when they hear that same chord later, whether on the final exam or in their careers, they will say, ‘Ah! A such-and-such chord!  I know how that fits in this key.’  And then they can spell out the notes.”

Dr. Dobra pointed out the chord they had just been discussing.  “Most students in my fourth semester class will hear this progression, and recognize that there’s an augmented sixth chord there.  Then they will back out, and think of which notes spell an augmented sixth chord in this key.  They’ll write it down.  Sometimes...  But there’s a big separation between the music and the product, see?  Since they learned exactly what an augmented sixth chord means, once they recognize it, they don’t need to hear the individual notes.  So in a way, they are regurgitating things from rote and repetition.”

“That’s not really what I did,” Sandra said slowly.  “I don’t even know what that chord is.”

“Exactly!  Which shows me that you have a really good ear.  It makes sense that you are a singer, since you wrote down everything in melodic fashion, rather than each chord at a time.”

“I guess I do hear these things as melodies that are intertwined,” Sandra said.

“Yes, yes.  Now, I think with a little extra catch up work, you could easily skip two semesters of theory.  Basically, you just need to learn some of the conventions, and then you’ll be right on track.” Dr. Dobra said.  “Ahead of track, to be honest,” he added, pointing to the board.

“Like what conventions?”

“This chord we were talking about should really have a G-flat in the bass, rather than F-sharp.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Sandra asked, frowning.

“Ah, no.  If you were singing in the key of C, would it be the same if all the Cs were written as B-sharps?  Same note, of course, but...”

“Hmm.  I guess... But in this case, the note isn’t even in the key, so how do you even decide?” Sandra asked.

“I know, Sandra,” Dr. Dobra said, chuckling.  “In some ways, the music transcends all this nonsense.  Like I said already, you don’t really need it.  Terminology serves to bridge the gap between music and notation for us lesser mortals.  But it also serves to let us talk about music on common ground.  As you encounter more complex music, terminology can make a difference in interpretation.  A C-sharp going up is not the same pitch as a D-flat going down, unless you play the piano.”

“Mmm...”  That made sense to Sandra, from her singing experience.  She took a deep breath.  “So would I switch classes now, or next semester?”

“I think now would make sense.  Otherwise you will waste your time here for another month.  Are you free from three to four during the week?”

“Um, yes, except Friday.”

“Perfect.  The class runs Monday through Thursday.”

“Oh... So it’s twice as many classes?”

“No, no, you’ll switch out of the analysis class too.  They go hand in hand.  I think that is the class where you will actually need to make up more ground, since it is more technical in nature.  You’ll need to learn the chord names and inversions and such.  I don’t anticipate any problems at all in the ear training and sight singing class.”

“Oh, okay.  How will I make up the material, though?”

“I’ll be happy to meet with you weekly to catch you up on what you need.  A little work now, and you will save yourself a year of theory classes,” Dr. Dobra said.

“What about the final exam?” Sandra asked.  “I mean, I only have four or five weeks.  All the material will be new.”

Dr. Dobra smiled.  “Don’t worry about the final.  I’ll take into account the switch, of course.  Besides, five weeks is a lot of time.  I’m sure we can cover plenty of ground in that time.”

Sandra nodded.  “Wow...  So do I need to do anything with the registrar?”

“I’ll go down there now and switch you over, so don’t worry about it.  Just come to class here at three instead of one, from now on.”

“And what about meeting for review?”

“Let me look at my schedule and I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Good.  Are you okay?” he asked.

“It’s a little overwhelming,” Sandra admitted.

“Don’t worry.  You will be fine.  I promise,” Dr. Dobra said.

Sandra pushed the door open to her room.  Emily was at her desk, working out chord progressions. 

“Hey.  How was class?” Emily asked.

“Fine.  Dobra picked on Richard again.”

“That sucks.  Is Richard all pissed off?”

“No,” Sandra said.  “He’s sleeping.  I just went to his room, and he was out cold.  Too many late nights at the recording session.”

“And not with us,” Emily lamented.  “But I know how much he wanted to do this, it being his teacher and all.”

“So Dobra wants me to move up two semesters in theory classes,” Sandra announced.

“Really?  That’s way cool.  How did that happen?”

“He gave me a little test after class, and then offered.  He said I was too advanced for first semester theory.”

“That’s pretty sweet.  You’ll be done with theory after this year then.  Wish I could do that!”

“It’s going to be work, though.  I have to learn all this extra stuff I’ll be missing in the jump.”

“Still, you take a year of those classes off your requirements.”

“Yeah, that’s what Dobra said too.”

“Richard will miss you, though,” Emily said.  “Sounds like you’re the only reason he still suffers through the hour.”

“Yeah, I thought of that,” Sandra said with a sigh.  “But Dobra said I was wasting my time, and if I switch now, I can get credit for the upper level class right off the bat.  Well, I’m going to go practice, so we can hopefully all eat dinner before Richard heads out to the recording tonight.”

“I can move downstairs if you want to practice in the room,” Emily offered.

“Nah, I’ll go find a room in the building.  Thanks, though.  See you later.”

Richard wiped the sleep from his eyes as he tried to figure out what that noise was.  As his ears opened up from sleep, the whooshing sounds became soft raps on his door.  He glanced outside, surprised to see that it was getting dark.  He shot up in panic, worried that he’d slept through the time when Dave was going to pick him up. 

“Who is it?” he called frantically, peering at his watch as he pulled his pants on.

“It’s us!” Emily said.

Luckily there was still a half-hour until he was meeting Dave in the lot.

“Dinner time,” Sandra added.

“Coming.”

Richard threw on his shoes, grabbed his keys and stumbled to the door.

“Good morning,” Emily said cheerily.

“Yeah, right,” Richard said.  “I wish it was morning.  I still feel beat.”

“You probably need some food in you,” Emily said, and pulled him out of the doorframe.

“I thought I overslept.”

“We wouldn’t let you do that!” Emily said.

“Oh.  Okay.  Thanks.”

“Come on.  There’s not that much time.”

Richard nodded and followed the girls to the stairwell.  On the walk to the cafeteria, he noted that Sandra was rather quiet.

“Sorry I fell asleep,” Richard said to her once they had found some food and a table.

“You looked like you needed it.  I figured you’d be out before you hit the bed,” Sandra said.

“Yeah, I was.  Man, this recording thing is a lot of work!  Mostly we just sit there and listen, but it’s still intense.  I have to concentrate to make sure everything gets notated, and the tapes are working, and Jarrett also has me helping him keep an eye on the music, and...  Well, I’ve told you all this already.”

“Are you still enjoying it?” Emily asked.

“Yeah, it’s really interesting,” Richard said.  “It’s a little hard to see the final product, just because there’s so much jumping around covering different sections of the music.  It seems like a weird way to record, but that’s the way it’s done, I guess.”

“You seem really tired, though,” Emily said.

“I am.  I could barely stay awake in Dobra’s class today.  Hey, what did he want with you?” Richard asked Sandra.

Sandra hesitated a moment.  “He wants me to move up to a different class.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  He thinks this class is too easy for me.”

“Hmm.  Are you going to do it?”

“I think so.”

“Oh no!  You’re leaving me alone with him?” Richard exclaimed, trying to laugh.

Sandra slumped a little.  “I know, I know.  But he thought I should move to the third semester class.  I’d finish my theory requirement a year earlier that way.”

“Third semester?  Whoa!  How are you going to learn all the stuff you are skipping?”

“He’s going to help me learn it outside of class.”

Richard frowned at her.  “What?”

“Like in office hours.  He’ll teach me what I need, from the two semesters I am skipping.”

“That sounds weird.”

“Why?” Sandra asked him.

“Because he’s doing nothing to help me.  But with you, you know...”  Richard shrugged dramatically.

“With me what?” she pressed.

“I don’t know.  All I remember is what Jenna said about him and pretty girls.”

“You think he’s doing this because of that?” Sandra asked, frowning.

“I don’t know.  I mean, either you’re ready to move up, or you’re not.  But now you have to have all these teaching sessions with him?  Sounds like he’s up to something.  Do you think you can handle the material, anyway?  That’s a lot of stuff you have to cover.  Just today he was telling me how little time is left in the semester.”

“He promised that I wouldn’t have to worry about the grade on the final.  He said he’d help me out.”

“God, that sounds like such a set up!” Richard said darkly.

“Richard, come on!  He thinks I can do it,” Sandra said.  Her voice was a bit heated.  “I don’t see why you think this is about my looks.”

“How come he’s only nice to you?  He has this total reputation for being a dick.  Everyone knows it.  Everyone says he’s got a soft spot for good looking female students.  I mean, what happens when you get to the end of semester and you can’t do well on the final?  Is he going to get weird on you?  Blackmail you for a good grade?”

She watched Richard open-mouthed.  “I can’t believe this!”

Emily was quiet until then.  “Richard, maybe you should...”

“Emily, stay out,” he said.  “I just think this is a bad idea.  It just seems really convenient for him.  I don’t see Jonathan, or whatever his name is getting asked to move up, and he does just as well as you in class.”

Sandra was distraught.  “Richard,” she pleaded.

“What?  I’m just saying…  It sounds really weird.”

He took his last bite of food.  Emily was just looking at him.  Sandra appeared on the verge of tears, as she fidgeted with her utensils and stared at her plate.

“I just think it’s strange,” he added, a little less excited.  “That guy is a dick.  I don’t trust him.”

“Maybe if you spent some time actually working on the class material, you’d feel differently,” Sandra said quietly.

Richard raised a brow, and then dropped his fork on the plate.  He stood up and grabbed his tray.  “I’m late.  I have to go,” he said tersely.

Emily put an arm around Sandra as Richard stormed off.  The anger in his voice as he gave his farewell was unmistakable. 

“Oh shit,” Sandra said, sinking into the chair.  “I shouldn’t have said that.  I shouldn’t have said that…”

Emily pulled her a little closer.  “I don’t know, Sandra… Maybe you should have.”

The recording session that night was difficult.  There was some extraneous noise on the system when Dave turned everything on, and it took a good hour to trace it to a power supply that was malfunctioning.  It set everyone a little bit on edge, including the normally laid back Dave. 

To add to the stress, Irina was feeling somewhat ill, and was not at her top performance level.  After three takes of the third movement of one piece, she declared herself unable to give a good performance of it. 

A few attempts were made at another piece, but those also got off to a bad start when Richard forgot to roll tapes during the first take.  The performance was lost, even if it was also questionable.

The others were understanding, but Richard felt horrible.  The hollowness in his stomach, which had started with his meeting with Dobra that afternoon, and had been amplified by the disastrous dinner with Sandra, was now so tight that he had to sit slightly doubled over just to be able to think straight.

Mercifully, after a few more failed takes of the piece Richard had missed recording, Irina called it a night.  Dave and Jarrett went out to talk with her on stage, while Richard shut down the system and prepared things for the next session, in two days.  There was a night off tomorrow, which was unimaginably welcome. 

When he had everything in the control room taken care of, he fell heavily into the couch at one end of the room.  Despite his nap, he was still exhausted, both mentally and physically.  Worry over Sandra’s situation was gnawing at him constantly.

When Dave returned to the control room, he glanced at Richard knowingly. 

“You look beat, Richard.” 

“I am,” he admitted.  “I think everything is ready for Wednesday, though.”

“Ah, okay.  Listen, Irina and I were just talking, and since things went so slow tonight, we’re going to have to record some tomorrow night to catch up.”

“Oh.  Okay.”  Richard felt the earlier relief slipping away.

“I’m probably going to get someone else to assist for the rest of the sessions, though,” Dave said carefully.

“Really?  I’ll be okay.  I just need to sleep a little.”

“No, Richard, you can’t.”

“Is it because of the tape thing, earlier?”

“No, absolutely not.  That happens.  It’s not the end of the world.  But you have to keep up your practice, and your school.  I feel partly to blame here, since I put a lot on you at this session.  Plus, the hours got moved longer and later, last minute, since we couldn’t have the hall next weekend.  Irina agrees with me on this one too.  I know you aren’t having your lesson this week, but that doesn’t mean she’s not expecting you to practice.”

Richard took a deep breath.  “I know.  But I can make it to the end of the week.  I’d like to finish the job.”

Dave held out a hand to him.  “Come on.  Let’s start the drive back, and we can talk.”

After grabbing their things in silence, they locked up the hall and got in Dave’s car.  The cold air seemed to wake Richard a little.

“I am tired, and I’ve probably not practiced as much as normal,” Richard said.  “But, I’ve gotten attached to the project now, you know?”

“I know, Richard.  But as your supervisor, I can’t let you focus on work at the expense of your school, even if this is an out-of-school job.  Like I said, Irina thinks the same.  She says that you have done a really good job in the control room, but we both agreed you looked too tired today.”

Richard’s thoughts swirled.  Rather than discussing the session, they were talking about me, he thought, somewhat amazed.

“Well, I don’t want to do a bad job like tonight,” he finally said, “so I guess you should get someone else.”

“You didn’t do a bad job.  Don’t beat yourself up over it.  I’ve done worse when I was starting out.  Erased tapes by mistake, even missed a gig altogether once, because I forgot to write it in my new calendar.  Believe me, that sucks,” Dave said, with a lighthearted laugh.

“What happened?”

“When I missed the gig?  It didn’t get recorded.  It was someone’s high school senior recital.”

“Didn’t they call you when you didn’t show up to set everything up?”

“No, it was an auditorium that had everything set up already, and they thought I was in the control room.  Turns out someone else was up there duplicating some cassettes.  They didn’t know until they called the next day to come pick up the tapes.”

“Wow.  They probably weren’t too happy.”

“Nope.  Definitely not.  Your child only has one senior recital, you know!  But I learned from it, believe me.  Never missed another gig since.”  Dave laughed.  “So don’t sweat the tape thing anymore.  It’s no big deal.”

“All right.”

“So.  I’m going to get someone to assist tomorrow night, and probably for the rest of the sessions.  But, if you are interested, I can have you help on the editing if you want.  The hours will be much more flexible, and it’s much more laid back.  That way you can still have a hand in the project.”

Richard brightened up at this.  “Yeah.  I mean, that sounds great.”

“Plus with your ear, you would probably be good at editing, and maybe catch a few things that Jarrett might miss.”

Richard felt a little surge at Dave’s honest words and confidence in his abilities.  With all the joking around that Jarrett and Dave did, it was nice to know that they weren’t kidding when they said Richard was a helpful addition to the team. 

“I’ll give it a shot.”

“Good.  So we’re settled then.”

Richard watched the city roll by, and soon the streets grew familiar as they approached the arts district where Wexford was situated.  Despite wanting to continue the sessions for sake of pride, he actually felt relieved that he was not going to be up late the next three nights.  Maybe he could get back on schedule with his practicing.

The next day, Richard was sick when he woke up.  Whether he got what Irina had, or something from the cafeteria food, he didn’t know.  He did know he couldn’t go to class.   

Ominously, there was no call or note from Sandra or Emily when he had arrived late the night before, and if they had knocked for breakfast that morning, he had slept through it.

A little after eleven, he was roused by a thump on his door.  His head was spinning as he stumbled to the door and peered through the peephole.  It was Emily.

He pulled the door open.  “Hey.”

“You missed class...  Oh no, are you sick?” Emily asked.

“Yeah, feeling pretty shitty.”

Emily started towards him. 

“No, don’t,” Richard warned.  “I might have gotten this from Irina.  She was sick last night.”

Emily considered, and then backed off.  “How did it go?”

“Like crap.  Irina was not playing well... I forgot to start tapes once... Some equipment died...”

“Sorry.”

He shrugged.  “I’m not going back for the rest of the sessions.”

Emily frowned.  “Why not?”

“Dave thought I needed to focus on school, and that I looked too tired.”

“Looks like he was right,” she said, looking him over.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

There was a silence. 

“Is Sandra...” Richard asked vaguely.

“She’s still pretty upset.”

“Oh.  Is she still going to move to the other class?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird?”

Emily glanced around evasively.  “Uh, well, you should really work this out with her, Richard.  I don’t want to be in the middle.”

“But tell me what you think?  Am I in the wrong here?” he pressed.

“I don’t know.  I haven’t seen Sandra in Dobra’s class, but she says that he seems to think she’s really good.”

“Yeah, and really hot too.  Jeez, I hate that guy!”

“Well, we’re going to go eat lunch,” Emily said quickly.  “Do you want me to bring you back anything?”

“No, I’m not hungry.  I’m probably just going to sleep all day and get rid of this thing.”

Emily nodded.  “All right.  I’ll come check on you later.”

Richard nodded, and then closed the door.  It was difficult to fall asleep, since his head was a swirl of unresolved thoughts.

A brief check from Emily was the only company Richard had the rest of that day.  She left after Richard tried again to engage her on the subject of Sandra’s situation. 

The next morning, Richard’s head was still a little woozy, but he was hungry, and feeling well enough to eat.  Richard ran into Sandra as he was headed towards the cafeteria.  She was returning from German class. 

“Hi,” Sandra said evenly.

“Hi.  How was class?” Richard asked.

“It was fine, whatever.”

“Do you want to walk to the cafeteria with me?”

“Okay.”

They set off together at a slow pace.

“I’m sorry about dinner last night,” Richard said immediately.

“Me too.”

“Are you still moving up to the new class?” he asked.

Sandra braced slightly at the question.  “Yeah.”

“Look, I’m not trying to keep you from going to another class, but I just think Dobra is doing something weird.”

“Why do you say that?”  Her voice was already a little irritated, and unfortunately Richard didn’t back off.

“Because if you move up a class, you shouldn’t have to go see the teacher for all this make up work.”

“Why not?”

“Because then it’s like you’re taking the lower level class, but outside of class.  What’s the point?”

“So you’re saying I’m not capable?” Sandra asked.

“I don’t know.  I don’t think you know, either.  Dobra could just be doing this to get you to come to his office!” he exclaimed.

“Oh Richard, please!”

“Come on, you hear all the time about teachers who make their students do weird things or else they fail them.  I’m just looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me?” Sandra said heatedly.  “You should look out for yourself!  You barely ever do any work for that class.  No offence, but the example yesterday wasn’t that hard.  You were like a zombie up there.  I felt sorry for you, and I hated that he called me up to fix your work.”

“You could have at least messed up a little, instead of making me look bad,” Richard countered.

“Oh god...” Sandra said, exasperated.  She stopped in the middle of the lawn they were crossing.  “Is that what...”

“What?”

“Oh, just forget it!”

“Okay, so you can do the ear training in this class.  So what?  It’s easy stuff.  And yeah, you’re right, I’m not putting effort into the class.  I don’t see what the point is, really.  I just want to get by and pass the class.  I’d rather practice piano than sing stupid melodies all day long.  And if I did put the effort in, I’d do just as well as you.  But you know what?  I bet you whatever you want, that Dobra wouldn’t come running to me to get me to come to office hours every week and move me up two classes, no matter how well I did in the class.  Because I’m a guy.”

“Richard...” Sandra said, sadness in her voice. 

“Haven’t you at least considered that he’s put you in an awkward position?  He said he promised you that he wouldn’t grade you badly on the final.  What does that mean?  If you can’t do the hard stuff he’ll make you give him sexual favors?”

“Richard...” Sandra repeated, tears on her face now.  “Why are you doing this?”

Richard dropped his book bag to the ground, and then threw his hands up in the air, spinning around on the grass.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know.  I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t be talking to you right now.  I’m tired, sick, overworked, and feeling generally shitty.  Fuck!”

“Just relax?  Please?” she pleaded gently, still crying.  “Can we just talk about this reasonably?”

He slumped to the ground.  “I can’t right now.  Just leave me alone for a while, because I’m being stupid.  I’m sorry.  I’m just messed up right now.”

“I’ll stay with you…  All morning, if you want.”

“No.  Please, just let me work this out on my own, before I lose it again.  Just go.”

Sandra stifled some sobs and then ran away towards the dorm.  Richard watched her go, shedding tears of his own.

Later that day, Richard sat in his usual spot for theory.  He had decided, during his time sulking on the grass, that he needed to turn the leaf in Dobra’s class, as much as he didn’t want to attend.  He still couldn’t feel good about Sandra’s situation, though, no matter how he spun it. 

He looked at Sandra’s seat, and felt a pang of remorse.  Why does she need to skip two semesters of theory?  Just so Dobra can spend some time with her, that’s why, Richard thought.  But I shouldn’t have been so goddamn insensitive about it... 

It was going to be a long five weeks, sitting alone in the back corner.  It might even be a long hour, if Dobra decides to pick on me again, today.  At least Ethan is here on time.

Suddenly, there was movement beside him, and Richard looked up in shock to see Sandra sitting down in her usual seat.  She gave him an emotionless look before she turned her attention to Dr. Dobra, who was just beginning to speak.

Richard wondered what had happened.  A few hours earlier, Sandra had been pretty clear that she was going forward with it.  Why is she here?  Is she going to take both classes?

Within five minutes, Richard couldn’t stand it any longer.  He wrote a note out:  ‘What happened?  I thought you were moving to the other class?’

He passed it to Sandra when Dobra had his back to the class.  She read it, and responded underneath his writing.

‘I thought about what you said.  Maybe you were right,’ she wrote.

‘About Dobra?’

‘Yeah, and about it being a lot of work.  And that maybe I’m not good enough at ear training to move up that much.’

Richard flinched when he read that.  Even though writing carried no tone, he could tell he had hurt her with those words.

‘I didn’t mean to say that you weren’t good at it,’ he wrote.

Sandra read his note, and then slipped the paper into her notebook.  She turned to Richard and shrugged slightly.  Then her attention was on the front of the class again. 

Richard leaned over to whisper to her, but Dr. Dobra caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Richard, please refrain from disturbing your classmates with talking during class.  Please.”

Richard sat back in his chair, feeling his face heat up.  Even though Dobra’s admonishment was not as harsh as usual, Richard began to wonder if he’d ever be in Dobra’s good eye.

Sandra ignored Richard for the remainder of the class period.  For some reason, Dobra didn’t call on Richard at all, and seemed to pick on other hapless students instead.  He called on Sandra to sing an example, which was quite simple.  As usual, she sang it quite nicely, but Richard could tell her heart wasn’t in it.

Towards the end of class, Richard was not surprised when Dobra asked Sandra to come to the board.  So he can leer at her some more, he wondered? 

“Melodic dictation.  F-sharp minor, three-four time.  First note is A, above middle C.”

A surprised murmur went through the class, as everyone recognized the key to be out of the ordinary.  Sandra made no move to notate the time or key signature, but instead stared at Dr. Dobra.  He didn’t acknowledge her look as he turned to the keyboard. 

The murmur quickly turned into stunned silence as everyone listened to the melody that Dobra played.  Long, chromatic, and unwieldy, it was completely different than anything he had ever foisted on the class, let alone someone exposed at the board.

Dobra finished, and turned to her.  Richard watched intently as Sandra looked at her teacher with questioning eyes.  There was a moment of communication between them which Richard could no more decipher than he could the melody Dobra had just played.

Sandra turned to the board and slowly put up the first note, and then the key signature and time signature as Dobra had indicated earlier.  Then she stopped and looked at him again. 

Richard almost got out of his chair, in anger.  He’s humiliating her in front of the class because she wouldn’t do what he said!  How can he give her this impossible melody? 

Look at her, you bastard!  It took all his willpower not to march to the front of the room and...  and do something.  He didn’t know what. 

Dobra played the melody a second time.  Richard gripped his chair tightly, trying to send Sandra whatever support he could.  She seemed somewhere other than in the classroom at that moment.

This time, Dr. Dobra turned fully around on his bench and folded his arms expectantly.  The pose was so arrogant, Richard thought.  At the first sign of emotion from Sandra, he was going to go to the front of the class and tell Dr. Dobra exactly what he thought of him.  Even if it meant being kicked out of the class.

After what seemed an eternity, Sandra turned to the board and raised the chalk.  Richard let out the breath he had been holding. 

No...  There was no way...

Sandra began to write.  Richard watched as the notes went up one by one, almost reluctantly.  As they revealed themselves, an icy chill ran down his spine.  He didn’t know if they were right, since he’d hardly paid attention to the melody except to recognize its complexity.  But the way Sandra was deliberately writing them, he knew she wasn’t just guessing at the melody.  Complex rhythms and accidentals were not just guessed at.

Richard sat, along with the rest of the class, in utter silence as Sandra finished the long melody, taking up two long lines of staff.

Dr. Dobra stood up, and scanned the music as Sandra stood aside, fidgeting with the chalk.

He turned to her, at last.

“Very good,” he said quietly, with an almost emotional voice.

The class let out a collective breath and stamped their feet, a gesture of genuine respect for Sandra.  She replaced the chalk in the tray and walked to her desk.  As she collected her things, she gave Richard a stricken look, her eyes watery.  Then she turned and walked out of the classroom.

“Class dismissed,” Dr. Dobra announced quietly from the front of the room.

No one said anything to Richard, not even Dr. Dobra, who was the last to leave the classroom, save for Richard.  He just sat there for a long time, astounded and completely bewildered.

Richard could honestly say he hadn’t felt like such an asshole ever before.  Somehow he had let his hatred of Dr. Dobra take hold of his senses, and in the process had deeply hurt Sandra.  Her look, right before she had left the classroom, had been like a stab through his heart. 

What should have been a natural and wonderful promotion to a better theory course for her, was ruined by Richard’s insensitive actions.  Worst of all, she had then rejected Dr. Dobra’s offer because she second-guessed her own talents based on Richard’s baseless comments.

Richard felt quite small. 

As he stared off at the blackboard, where Sandra’s seemingly impossible feat was still written, the classroom door opened again. 

Dr. Dobra entered, and was surprised to find Richard still seated in the chair.  Richard was also surprised to see his teacher return, ten minutes after leaving.

“I forgot my favorite pen.  Red, naturally,” Dr. Dobra said, laughing a little, as he collected it from the piano.

When Richard didn’t even move, Dr. Dobra frowned at him.

“Don’t worry, nothing like that will be on the final.  For this class, anyway.”

“Why did you do that?” Richard asked him.

Dr. Dobra looked at Richard levelly.  “Do what?”

“Put her on the spot like that.”

“Because she shouldn’t be in this class.”

“Were you getting back at her because she didn’t agree to move up to the higher level class?”

“Getting back at her...?” Dr. Dobra echoed quietly, before letting out a sigh.

He walked over to where Richard was, and sat in Sandra’s chair, turning it some so he could face Richard.

“You and Sandra are good friends, I gather?” he asked.  His voice carried none of its usual intensity.

“Yes, we are.”

“Then you obviously want what’s best for her.”

“Of course.”

“Perhaps you can help her to see what’s right.  Despite what you may or may not think, I want what’s best for her, too.  Clearly, she told you that I asked her to move up to a higher theory class?”

Richard nodded.

“For some reason,” Dr. Dobra continued, “this morning she changed her mind, and decided she just wanted to stay here, and go through the regular sequence of classes.  She didn’t think she was ready for the higher level classes.  Or so she explained in her note.”

Richard stayed silent, guilt creeping through him again.

“That is unacceptable to me,” Dr. Dobra said, his voice hard for a moment.  “That would be like you telling me you wanted to keep taking piano lessons with your elementary school band teacher.  No disrespect to band teachers, but that’s completely unacceptable, for someone of your talent.  You wouldn’t be here, otherwise.  Either that, or the band teacher would not be at an elementary school.”

Richard shrugged.  “How did she do that?” he asked, pointing to the board.

“She has a talent that no one else in this room has.  Not you, not any of the other students.  And no, not even I have it.  She is just learning to use it.  I don’t even know how deep it runs.”

“I didn’t know.  She never said anything,” Richard said distantly.

“She doesn’t really know, either.  Her talent is raw, unrefined, but immense.  This is the kind of talent which the world’s greatest conductors display, for example.  The ‘walking ears’ of the world, those who can hear music once, and know it inside of them like they’ve lived with it their whole lives. 

“I’ve wondered about her over the course of this semester,” Dr. Dobra continued, “but it wasn’t until the midterm, when she wrote the melodic dictation correctly on first listen, that I knew she wasn’t just a hard worker.  Which, of course, she is, but her abilities go far deeper than just hard work.”

“I still can’t believe she did that,” Richard said, looking at the melody again.  “Did she really get it all right?”

“Every note and every rhythm, perfectly.  Only hearing it twice, no less.  And it’s not an easy melody, as you can see.  It’s beyond what we even give to our fourth semester classes here.  And she is probably capable of much more with just a little more training.”

Richard shook his head in amazement.  “So what about the workload?  She was worried that it would take a lot to catch up.”

“No, I don’t think so.  She just needs to learn the vocabulary and customs of music theory.”

“Does she really need to?”

Dr. Dobra laughed.  “For her own musicianship, probably not.  She has an understanding of music which is different than what most of the rest of us have, studied as we are.  But, it is still necessary to communicate.  Both ways.  Should she ever compose, or conduct, she will be communicating music to others, who need to see it written the way that they expect to see it written.”

Richard nodded.  “I was going to ask her for help with this class, but it sounds like she’s going to have work to do of her own now.”

“If she decides to move up,” Dr. Dobra reminded.

“She will,” Richard said, life returning to his voice.  “If I had known...”

“Known?”

“I would have helped her to do it.  I’ll talk with her today.”

Dr. Dobra sized Richard up, and then nodded.  “I understand.”

Richard frowned at him for a moment, unsure as to what he meant.

“She may still benefit from helping you,” Dr. Dobra added.  “Sometimes teaching something is the fastest way to learn it well... But if not, you are always welcome to my office hours.”

Richard shrugged.  “I’ll admit that I’ve not done my best in this class.”

“I’ll give you that,” Dr. Dobra agreed.

“Can I still pass?”

He smiled.  “Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not a complete...” He looked around the room, and then continued. “well, you-know-what.  I reward two things: talent, and hard work.  However, the first almost never comes through without the second.  You have shown some talent in this class, Richard, but minimal work.  Sandra, who I think we can now agree has immeasurable talent, has put in many times the work you have put in to the class.  Her rewards are correspondingly larger.”

Richard conceded with a nod.

Dr. Dobra continued.  “I believe at your midterm we had a discussion, and I told you that you still had half a semester to prove your talent to me, through hard work.  Now we are down to five weeks.  Is that enough time?”

“I hope so.”

“It’s up to you,” Dr. Dobra said, smiling a little.

Richard nodded again.  “All right.  Thanks.”

“See you next week,” he said, as he grabbed his red pen and departed.

Richard stood up abruptly and gathered his backpack.  English was half finished by now, and it would be useless to go.  Besides, there was something much more important to do.

Forward to Chapter 21

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