Opus OneChapter 11 Andante
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Opus OneChapter 32: Schwer Betont free porn video
Gary Menlos scanned the rehearsal room from his usual back corner spot.
"Mark," he said, nodding his head at the principal cello player. "Go ahead. Take it from the beginning."
Mark set his cello aside and walked up to the podium with his baton.
Gary waited as Mark flipped the score back to the first page. He looked around again, surprised at the turnout. A number of string players had shown up for the practice orchestra. He had hinted yet again, at the last full orchestra rehearsal, that anyone who came to the conducting class to play would perhaps gain a little edge when it came time to determining the seating for the final orchestra concert. Obviously the promise of Shostakovich Five stimulated them...
Mark began to conduct, pulsing out a slow rhythm for the low strings. As they had already a dozen times, the cellos and basses played their descending lines.
Gary watched Mark for a minute. Then he called out over the orchestra and they stopped.
"Hey, hey! You need to cue your concertmistress Suzanne, there! I know you play the cello, but at least try to give everyone else a little attention?"
Everyone tittered.
Gary held out a silencing hand. "I know Suzanne knows this piece like the back of her hand, since she just performed it in Europe, but still..."
Mark checked the score. "Sorry. How about we go from..."
"Just start again," Gary interrupted. "Get them involved more! You're just following them, Mark. It's supposed to be the other way around!"
Mark looked at him, and then nodded. He started again.
Gary sighed quietly. As great as a cellist Mark was, he had no idea how to conduct.
Gary let him go for a few minutes, resisting the urge to stop him again. Right before the piece turned livelier, he whistled.
"All right, not bad. Not great, but not bad either. Don't do this to them," he said, demonstrating an opening fist that Mark had used to cue a few entrances. "We're not playing catch here."
More laughter ensued, and even Mark joined in with a chuckle.
Gary knew he could take it. He'd watched Mark grow as a musician for four years. He already had assigned him to the principal cello part for the Shostakovich concert.
"Okay, okay. This is serious music, here," he said, over the amused noises of the musicians. "Let's keep going."
He again scanned the room. He looked to the other corner for perhaps the tenth time.
How strange... Usually she was eagerly looking at him, yearning to be called up to conduct. Not everyone got a chance every class, but she was always willing. Today, she was just staring down at her lap at a crumpled piece of paper. Her baton was not in her hand as it always was lately. Her face was a mask.
He vacillated for a moment, and then called her name anyway.
"Sandra. Can you continue from where we stopped?"
For a moment, she didn't seem to hear him. Then she nodded once, and took out her baton from her bag. As she walked slowly to the podium, Gary almost called her out about how droopily she was walking, and how uninspiring that was to the waiting musicians. Something made him check his words, though.
Sandra arrived at the podium and stared down at the score.
Bows were positioned impatiently, even before she made any movement.
At last she sighed, her mind clearly somewhere far away. She held up her baton, and looked up. Gary thought her eyes were unusually tired.
She gave a few tentative pulses and the orchestra responded unevenly. Before a few measures had even passed, Sandra had dropped her hands. The orchestra petered out.
"Sorry," she said, almost inaudibly.
Gary watched her for a moment, considering dismissing her from the podium. Something was sorely affecting her.
"Hear it before you start!" Gary finally called out, pacing around in the back. He'd give it one more try. Maybe the music would distract her.
Sandra just stared silently. Then, slowly, she flipped pages, moving deeper into the score.
Gary watched patiently, not sure what she was doing.
"Schwer betont, " Sandra announced quietly. "From there, please."
There was a moment of confusion, and then the players turned to the later section in their parts.
When Sandra looked up, Gary nodded as he recognized the music in her exhausted eyes.
With a decisive hand, Sandra started them. The entrance was feeble, but this time it was not Sandra's fault. She stopped them immediately, holding out a hand.
"Schwer betont, " she repeated, looking at them one by one. "Again, please."
This time they responded by digging into the strings with their bows. Sandra asked for more with a 'come hither' wave of her fingers. She turned to each section, cueing and leading them through this forceful part of the music.
Gary watched her closely. There was a mix of sadness and pain in her eyes which even he could see from the back corner. He could also see how it was affecting those in the front rows of the orchestra. They had stopped staring in ennui at their music, and were suddenly following her instead. Maybe it was the fact Sandra had skipped forward to a section they had not already played ten times, but Gary thought it was more than that.
As the music grew introspective again, Sandra slowed the pacing. The violin arpeggios were almost too drawn out, Gary thought at first. They were too slow compared to what came before, but then Sandra balanced it by holding the chords that followed to match that feeling.
She wasn't just beating time, but actually shaping the phrases consciously. He realized he was too used to watching the metronomic hand waving of the other students.
This is quite good...
She was beginning to pull music out of them he had thought impossible, in this laid back, informal situation.
With a final note in the low instruments, she let the section fade away as she lowered her hands.
There was a long moment of silence.
"Well, keep going," Gary said quietly, his voice carrying over the orchestra.
Sandra shook her head, her face suddenly emotional.
That's it, then... ?
Suddenly, a low rumble grew in the room as the orchestra quietly applauded her with their feet, having enjoyed her work.
Sandra looked around, unsure whether to return to her seat.
"Keep going," Gary repeated louder, not letting the opportunity pass.
While it was his usual practice to have one person go for no more than a handful of minutes if they had things under control, he didn't care at the moment.
The quiet rumble continued, growing a little louder until Sandra straightened and held her hands up. She never smiled, but at least seemed a little more alive as she looked at them. The orchestra readied themselves immediately.
"Sehr breit, " she whispered.
At the sound of the first held chord, Gary shivered. Sandra slowly led the musicians through the chorale section, and then swayed slightly as she cued the call and responses between the cellos and the solo violin.
This is sublime...
Gary caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced over at the door to the rehearsal room, which had been left open. Two students were peeking in to watch, instrument cases on their backs.
Gary waved them in, and then a few more people came in behind them, drawn in by the sound of the performance.
He waved them in as well, and then he turned back to the orchestra, moving closer to Sandra by stepping amidst the last row of violinists.
Gary felt his gut tighten, realizing his favorite section of the piece was coming up. He'd not assigned going this far, not wanting people to butcher it.
He held his breath as Sandra left a couple of seconds of silence hanging in the air, before the ethereal part that was to follow.
Ever so gently, she cued the tender harmonics and double ascending string lines. With one hand she then established the pizzicato off-beats, while leading the violins through their floating, airy figures.
Gary shuddered at the look in her eyes as she turned to cue the solo violin for its melody.
Sandra looked at Suzanne directly. Her eyes begged for everything she had.
Suzanne responded exquisitely, playing the high melody above the shimmering orchestra part. Sandra's right hand and baton kept the delicate accompaniment on pace, while with her left hand she pulled on Suzanne as if with an invisible string. He could almost see the sparks between Sandra and Suzanne as they danced, their eyes fixed on each other's.
Waves of emotion washed through Gary's body as he watched and listened. Then Sandra turned and cued Mark for his answering lines on the cello. Sandra's duet with Suzanne turned into a trio as the orchestra supported the ecstatic moment with its gentle arpeggiated filigree. Again Sandra begged for more with her left hand.
For a while, Sandra closed her eyes as the music swirled around her. Gary looked around, wondering if he was the only one who felt like crying. Every person in the room was riveted, including even more visitors now crowding in near the door.
She had released herself to the music. It was all her, now. Despite not playing a single instrument or singing a single note, she was making the music in the room happen.
The piece moved forwards, and Gary dared not stop her. He just watched, wondering if he was really seeing this happening.
He knew early on that Sandra had some talent. That much had been clear, despite her first fumbling attempts at conducting. Even today, there were moments when she made some mistakes in her patterns, or forgot a cue, Gary admitted. It was far from technically perfect. The orchestra had mostly covered it, though, caught up by her performance.
She had obviously practiced hard on her conducting this semester. But this? The passion, the abandon... That could not be learned, ever ... Gary could teach the 'how' of conducting, but no one in the world could teach the 'why'.
The players responded increasingly to her urging looks as her passion began to spread throughout the room over the next few minutes. She pushed them up through a wild section, and then relaxed as the music retreated once more, still unwilling to reach a full peak. Many times, she would look urgently at Suzanne, pressing her for more and more feeling, which made Suzanne's first violin section follow accordingly. This in turn drove the other musicians to dig deeper with their bows as well.
The area by the doorway was now packed with people. Students, teachers, and administrators alike had peered in from the hallway to see what had caused the gathering crowd, only to find themselves drawn into the room and rooted to the floor by the scene. A few violin players had even taken out their instruments and joined the orchestra in the back row, reading over the shoulders of those in front of them.
The music built up again, and Sandra drove them into a frenzy. The orchestra threatened to shake the rehearsal space apart as the climactic moment approached. Sandra broadened her stroke, drawing out the long chords as they reached the moment of bliss. She seemed to grow taller as the resonance of the music swept through her like a raging flood.
The musicality was so clear in everything she did, and her melodic sense was so overwhelming, that she even stopped moving her arms for a few ecstatic measures, seemingly conducting just with a few glances and small movements of her head.
Gary found himself struggling to breathe. His face hurt from emotion.
The music receded from its heights with great feeling. Sandra delicately pulled an arpeggio out of Suzanne, as Mark led the cellos through the chorale melody towards the calming chord which brought resolution.
Gary held his breath, waiting for Sandra to continue.
Suddenly she dropped her hands to the podium and slumped forward, leaning on her arms for support. She stared at the score, breathing hard.
The orchestra stayed stone still, bows still held on strings as they waited for Sandra. Gary sensed something was wrong, though, and ran around behind the orchestra, pushing past the murmuring spectators.
He reached Sandra and put his hand on her shoulder.
"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice trembling.
She stood and turned to him, her eyes haunted. Her chest heaved and she was flushed red. She shook her head slightly, her face drawn and unsmiling, as she blinked at him.
Gary looked at her for a few long moments, trying to read her eyes. They were infinitely deep as they looked back at his.
"Can you keep going?" he whispered urgently.
She nodded slowly.
Gary thought he knew what true amazement felt like at that moment, but then he looked down at the music stand.
"My god..." he whispered hoarsely, taking an involuntary step back.
The score was still open to the page marked 'Schwer betont.'
He looked at her again, and then out at the orchestra, unable to breathe. They were still poised, every single one of them. All around, he saw the intense faces he was used to seeing during concerts, when they were in their element and full of adrenaline. But that was always under bright lights, in a concert hall filled with hundreds of people, and after weeks of long rehearsals.
This had happened over the course of ten minutes in a cramped and dim rehearsal room...
"My god," he whispered again, looking at Sandra.
He moved away, stunned, almost afraid to be near her. He had not even noticed the lack of page turns on her part, so caught up he had been by following her conducting.
He could not remember ever being so astounded that his arms shook visibly.
From his new vantage point beside the first violins, Gary watched the musicians as they followed Sandra again, into the 'Sehr ruhig' section. He was just a spectator now, part of the audience. The last critical bit of his eye as a teacher had disappeared, and he just listened to the music unfurl for the next several minutes.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned slowly, for a moment growing angry at the interruption. John Wiltshire, the head of the violin department, leaned in to him.
Gary relaxed, glad it was not a student he disliked.
"Who is she?" John whispered, his brow knotted.
Gary got close to his ear. "A singer."
"A singer? What? Where does she conduct?"
"She's a freshman, here at Wexford."
John's eyes widened in disbelief for several long moments. Then he let out a breath and shook his head as he watched her again. Gary was not surprised at his reaction. He didn't believe his own words either.
The final two minutes were sublime. Sandra hardly moved now, keeping the orchestra at its quietest. She again pulled on the violins with one hand as she guided them through the final melody of resolution.
The last two chords came gently, as if eternal peace had been found. Together, they lasted for almost a minute. With infinitesimal control, Sandra took them down to silence.
For five long seconds, they were all in a world without sound. Sandra had her hands lowered in front of her, staring down at something that was not in the room.
Then she turned and faced Gary, her eyes unseeing and her mouth desperately drawing for air. Her baton slipped from her shaking hand, as if in slow motion.
At the same instant, the room exploded in thunderous roar as musicians and impromptu audience alike stomped their feet and clapped with everything they had.
Sandra staggered sideways, losing her footing on the edge of the podium. Gary rushed to her as she crashed down against the wall and looked around in confusion. The musicians who could see her stopped their stomping, suddenly concerned. The people further away could not see, though, and they continued the uproar.
Gary grabbed at her shoulders to help her steady herself as she struggled to her feet. Sandra shook loose and pushed past him. The noisy crowd cleared a slight path as she ran to the door.
Gary stood rooted as she disappeared. The applause quieted at last, as people realized she was gone and shushes spread through the room.
He looked around helplessly, as all eyes turned to him. He reached down and grabbed her baton from the podium, his hand trembling as he touched it.
"Dismissed," he whispered, and then he hurried out of the room.
Richard was about to do a last run through of the Bach piece he was practicing, before heading to dinner. His mind was quite distracted, given the situation with Sandra.
The cancellation of the recital was the least of his worries. He was constantly thinking of her depressed and distant state, and wondering what he and Emily could do to help. The only thing that kept coming to mind was giving her time and space, as hard as that was.
He and Emily had continued trying to keep track of her throughout the day. Richard had found her walking back from German, and had checked to see how she was doing. Her answer was clear in her conflicted, red eyes. She went straight back to the dorm to sleep.
Emily said that Sandra had been in piano class at noon, but then she had disappeared, despite telling Emily she was going to go practice. Richard had waited by her theory class at three. He was not surprised that she never showed up, since he doubted she would ever again step foot in a class that Wilcox was teaching. She likely did not know that Wilcox had been replaced by Ms. Connelly for the day, both in his class and hers. Richard did not know why, since no explanation had been offered.
Rather than begin another fruitless search of the dorm and the building, Richard instead went to practice, intending to find Sandra after conducting class. If she was there.
If not...
At first, he thought it was an earthquake, and he looked around his small practice room in surprise. Then voices joined the deep rumble, and he recognized the sound of applause.
When it went on for more than a few seconds, he went out of his practice room and followed the hallways towards the sound.
Things had quieted by the time he reached the rehearsal space. He checked his watch. It was a little early for conducting class to be over, but people were filing out, talking loudly and grinning. Richard recognized the orchestra conductor as he stepped out of the room in a rush and looked around quickly, before hurrying into the stairwell and disappearing. A woman followed right after him, and also looked around before going down the hallway in the other direction.
It was a strange moment which conflicted with the mood of the boisterous crowd, but Richard dismissed it. Maybe it wasn't conducting class, he thought, surprised at the numbers of people he saw, and the presence of a few faculty and staff members. It felt like a spectacle.
Faculty awards meeting?
He watched for Sandra, not sure if he was expecting to see her.
He entered the room as the doorway finally cleared some. The room was set up for the orchestra, and musicians everywhere were putting away stringed instruments. Richard approached a nearby violin player as he loosened his bow.
"What just happened?" Richard asked.
"This girl just put Mr. Menlos to shame," he said, with a laugh.
"What?"
"She just got up there and..." He shrugged, unable to explain.
"Who?" Richard asked, a knot forming in his stomach for some reason.
"Um ... I don't remember her name right now. Susie, or..."
"Where is she?" Richard asked, looking around again. It seemed clear, however, that the person that had been the focus of everyone's thunderous applause was no longer in the room.
"She ran out. Someone said she fainted or something."
"Did she have blonde hair?" Richard asked, his voice urgent. "Was it Sandra? Sandra d'Arcy? A singer?"
The guy turned, recognition in his eyes. "Yeah, that's her. She's a singer. She sang a few weeks ago in the class."
Richard muttered thanks, and then ran out of the room.
Suzanne pushed the women's bathroom door open slowly. At first, the room was quiet, but then she heard the sharp intake of breath from the changing area.
"Sandra?" she called.
There was no answer.
Suzanne cracked open the door to one of the changing rooms, and found Sandra seated in a chair with her face in her hands. She was quietly sobbing.
"Are you all right?" Suzanne asked, kneeling beside her.
Still there was no reply.
"Hey," she said gently, running a hand on her back. "Do you want me to call for help?"
Sandra at last acknowledged her with a shake of her head as she continued to cry.
"Okay. Are you just overwhelmed?"
Sandra nodded.
Suzanne pulled a chair over and sat next to her.
"Just relax," she said soothingly, as she caressed Sandra's back and hair. "This is a tough place to go to school, no matter what you do, and no matter how you do it."
Suzanne just waited patiently for a while. At last, Sandra started to calm down a little.
"You were amazing back there," Suzanne said. "You are so easy to follow, and you bring so much out of the players. I had chills the whole time."
Sandra looked up out of her hands, wondering who was talking to her. Recognition crossed her face.
"I'm Suzanne. Your concertmistress."
Sandra blinked at her.
"How long have you been conducting?" Suzanne asked. "I've never seen you before."
"Just since I took this class this semester." Her words came out strangled.
"God ... You are a natural. You must really know this piece. I never saw you look at the music. Did you even use the score at all?"
Sandra didn't immediately reply, trying to calm the shakes that still wracked her body.
"I'm Sandra," she said at last.
"I know," Suzanne said. Then she laughed slightly. "So does everyone who was in that room a few minutes ago."
"I don't even remember how I got here. I don't remember much at all after the piece ended."
"You looked like you were going to faint, and then you ran out."
"I don't remember that at all."
"You seemed possessed the whole time you were up there. Your eyes ... They were just so full of emotion."
Sandra looked at her sadly. "I just lost a childhood friend last week," she said.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Suzanne said sincerely.
"And I screwed up my life yesterday."
"What? How?"
Sandra ignored the question. "I kept thinking of him, and the music, and..."
"Well it came through. Whatever you did, you were amazing. Did you see the place packed with people?"
"I guess."
"My teacher was even there. It's like word spread through the building..."
"I feel embarrassed," Sandra said meekly.
"Embarrassed? Why?"
"I made a fool of myself."
"Made a fool — how?"
"It's just a conducting class, and I took over like I thought I had my own orchestra ... No one conducts that long in the class. Why did Mr. Menlos let me go on?"
"Because he was too stunned to do anything else! I know shock when I see it. When he came up to the podium, when you stopped in the middle ... he had a look on his face that I've never seen before. And I've watched him conduct some pretty amazing moments on stage in the last four years."
"But all the people, and the other students ... I just wanted to conduct that middle section because it was short, and then sit down again."
"But you went on ... Listen. I took that class a couple of years ago, and it's pretty damn boring to play the same thing over and over again as someone just waves their hands around. We'd almost do better if they just started us and sat down, in many cases. When Gary asked me to come down and be concertmistress for this session, I almost turned him down. Two hours of repeating the same five minutes of music, with no real understanding ... Um, no thanks. But, he's been good to me, and I know the solo violin part really well right now, so I did it. And, it was pretty much the same old for the first hour."
Suzanne got closer to Sandra. "Then, you came up. And at first I was like, 'This is going to be good... ' You looked pretty out of it. I kept waiting for Gary to say something about the way you were acting dead up there, but he didn't. And even after you took a little control and switched us to the different section, I was still just wanting to get out of there.
"But then, you changed. You looked like you had been up there for years. Suddenly, I was like, 'Hello?' This is no run of the mill conducting student. After a few minutes, I almost thought you were someone famous Gary had brought in to mess with us. But you didn't look old enough. And yet, there you were, conducting like Solti or something."
"No..." Sandra dismissed. "I mess up all the time. I can't even get my patterns right."
"Who cares!" Suzanne exclaimed. "Once we're going, we're either ignoring the conductor, or, if they're really good, following the music in their bodies, or in their eyes. We're not just there watching if you go left or right with your hands, unless it's vital for the cue. You left it all up there, Sandra, and we picked it up and ran with it."
Sandra looked at her doubtfully.
"Do you remember that part after you stopped the first time? Where there are the harmonics, and then I have a solo?" Suzanne hummed a little of the melody.
"That's my favorite part of the piece," Sandra said quietly.
"Mine too! And I've been playing this piece all year in a chamber group, where we have no conductor. I lead that part, with that high melody. But, when you cued me, I just followed your eyes. You were probably beating time or something, but you could have been twiddling your thumbs, and I wouldn't have cared. You just knew exactly how to lead it, just by looking at me. I felt chills in my spine during that part."
Sandra had turned to her, her eyes a little brighter now.
"Really?"
"Yeah, it was one of the sweetest moments playing in orchestra I've felt in a long time."
"I felt it too," Sandra said, some life creeping into her voice for the first time. "Your playing was just ... It felt like..."
"What?" Suzanne urged, as Sandra suddenly turned away.
"Nothing, it's dumb."
"No, tell me!"
Sandra turned back to her, considering before she spoke at last. "I felt like I was inside of you, playing the violin with you. It's the first thing that's felt right at all, in days."
Suzanne smiled sincerely. "Yes, and you were inside me! I told you, I just followed you!"
Sandra breathed deeply several times. "This is all too much."
"What is your instrument? Or are you here for conducting?"
"I'm a soprano."
Suzanne laughed incredulously. "Jeez, you mean you don't even play in an orchestra regularly?"
"No. I've never played in an orchestra, and until this semester, never conducted one."
"That's absolutely crazy! No wonder Gary looked like he'd seen a ghost! He's probably running around the building right now looking for his next protégé."
"No..." Sandra cried out. "I just took this class for fun!"
"Do you sing as well as you conduct?"
"I should hope so, since I don't know how to conduct," Sandra deflected vaguely.
"I know you probably love singing, being a singer and all, but you should seriously look at conducting. I mean, damn! If you can get that out of a pickup orchestra in ten minutes, missed cues and patterns and whatever, imagine what you'd do when you tried for real. I mean, you have talent. When you conduct, it's like the music is part of you. It's not like you're just telling us what's on the page, which is what everyone else in that class does, or not even. With you, it's coming from here," Suzanne said, tapping her chest. "I can't think of anyone who wouldn't want to play for you."
Sandra wiped a tear from her cheek.
"Thanks, Suzanne."
Suzanne smiled sweetly at her, and hugged her. "To top it off, you are also just musically gorgeous to look at. Your face, and the way you hold arms ... when you were conducting, I thought I was seeing a beautiful vision."
Sandra closed her eyes...
... and she shivered at Suzanne's words.
Sandra looked again at her sparkling eyes and smiling face close to hers.
Who is this woman?
Her head kept saying that Suzanne was just being overly complimentary, but somewhere deep within her, something was whispering the truth.
That moment during the piece when they had locked eyes had been extraordinary. Feelings that she thought were gone forever were suddenly coursing through her.
Then she remembered the recital.
Sandra stood up abruptly.
"Thanks for finding me," she said sadly.
Suzanne stood close to her. "Of course. I guessed, and I got lucky. I was worried when you fell of the podium."
"I fell off the podium?" Sandra repeated, her face turning red.
"Pretty much," Suzanne said, smiling apologetically.
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