[Open Post] A pale ghost in the ballroom
From the ballroom comes the soft sound of music. Very quiet, so that it barely carries outside of the ballroom itself. The melody seems inherently apologetic, as though it is surprised that you have heard it and it is sorry for disturbing you.
Alcuin has a new hobby.
A new lover; one Robert Frobisher, who is a gifted composer and a brilliant musician. But Alcuin, for his part, has never learned music. He does not sing, cannot read notes, and does not know how to begin.
And yet he cannot resist trying.
So every few days, when he thinks Frobisher is otherwise occupied, he creeps to the ballroom and sits down at the piano. At first, he only presses keys and listens to the sounds, understanding how keys correspond to notes and learning how to pick out simple melodies from the patterns. He quickly discovers the damper pedal and makes generous use of it, in order to minimize the intrusion of untrained playing from anyone's ears.
As is his nature, Alcuin is intellectual but not creative. His ear for music is as flawless and natural as his ear for language, and he draws upon his memory to put together songs he has heard. All variations upon these memories are mistakes--Alcuin could never compose. He cannot even comprehend how it would be done.
But intelligence and an ear for music is enough to get him started.
At first, he plays one key at a time, picking out notes on the treble scale. After the first few attempts, he begins trying chords, trying to reconstruct parallel notes that he only dimly remembers. It's deeply frustrating, and he often shuts the piano again and gives up for the day, feeling foolish.
He is too insecure to seek formal training, and too shy to let his boyfriend know he's doing it.
Alcuin is haunting the ballroom. Feel free to catch him at it.
Alcuin has a new hobby.
A new lover; one Robert Frobisher, who is a gifted composer and a brilliant musician. But Alcuin, for his part, has never learned music. He does not sing, cannot read notes, and does not know how to begin.
And yet he cannot resist trying.
So every few days, when he thinks Frobisher is otherwise occupied, he creeps to the ballroom and sits down at the piano. At first, he only presses keys and listens to the sounds, understanding how keys correspond to notes and learning how to pick out simple melodies from the patterns. He quickly discovers the damper pedal and makes generous use of it, in order to minimize the intrusion of untrained playing from anyone's ears.
As is his nature, Alcuin is intellectual but not creative. His ear for music is as flawless and natural as his ear for language, and he draws upon his memory to put together songs he has heard. All variations upon these memories are mistakes--Alcuin could never compose. He cannot even comprehend how it would be done.
But intelligence and an ear for music is enough to get him started.
At first, he plays one key at a time, picking out notes on the treble scale. After the first few attempts, he begins trying chords, trying to reconstruct parallel notes that he only dimly remembers. It's deeply frustrating, and he often shuts the piano again and gives up for the day, feeling foolish.
He is too insecure to seek formal training, and too shy to let his boyfriend know he's doing it.
Alcuin is haunting the ballroom. Feel free to catch him at it.