//------------------------------// // Chapter 36: A Promise to Keep // Story: The Second Life of Moztrot // by CrackedInkWell //------------------------------// By the time that March came around, and the opera had proven to be a success beyond my wildest dreams, Wilfred reminded me of a promise that I once made. Especially towards a gifted filly in Ponyville. The winter coat I had received a few months prior had not only kept me warm but was rather stylish as well. Besides, my usual red overcoat was in need of repair as some of the golden buttons were coming off. So after the Marriage of Figaro had finished its run, I wrote a letter to the filly’s older sister that I was open to teaching her in exchange for my clothes being repaired, or for new ones to add to my limited wardrobe. Over the next few days, I negotiated with Rarity about the place and time for Sweetie Belle’s lessons in composition. It was decided that I should be the one to come down to the town after Winter Wrap Up. Wilfred went down with me by train on the day of the first lesson. I sat on my seat with a sack of composition books (pencils included) on one side and my favorite violin in its case on the other. My butler sat on the other side. He asked me, “Do you feel ready to do this?” “What? Teaching?” I glanced out the window at the passing countryside. “It has been a long time, yes, but I’m not nervous about it if that’s what you’re asking.” “I didn’t ask if you were nervous. I asked if you felt ready to do it. Teaching someone composition, that is.” With a smirk on my lips, I replied, “Oh shame on you, Wilfred. I’ll leave those monotonous piano, violin and singing lessons to ponies who cannot do anything but play the instruments. I am a composer after all.” Turning my attention back to him, I added: “Besides, from what I saw from the filly’s work, I’m grateful that she has an imagination. Teaching composition is impossible if the student or the teacher doesn’t have it.” “How exactly are you planning on teaching her?” “Ohh I have several ideas in my head. From having her do variations or improvise. However, I do want to see how the gears in her head turn so that I have some idea what kind of composer I’m working with.” Several minutes later, the train arrived in Ponyville and we went straight to the boutique. As expected, the tailor Rarity was the first to greet us with her little sister behind. I had to surrender my beautiful red coat to her; she did say that she would have it repaired by the end of the lessons. I turned to the little composer and asked, “So where do you do your work?” “On a good day like this,” she said, looking out of the window, “there’s a place not too far from here where I like to write my music. Near a pond.” I blinked, “You compose outside? Would your sister allow it?” “Just as long you return to the shop to pick up your overcoat, I won’t mind,” the seamstress said as she placed the coat on a table, examining it. “Just remember to come back here in an hour.” “This way, Mr. Moztrot,” the filly said as she snatched up some blank sheet music and a pencil before showing us out. Wilfred and I followed her for a brief walk until she stopped underneath a tall umbrella tree that drooped over a pond. As soon as we arrived there, I asked her, “Why do you work here?” “Let’s face it,” she said. “My home isn’t always quiet with Rarity’s sewing machine and certain loud customers. Here, however, it’s always quiet enough to give me some time to think. Weather permitting, that is.” “Ah, I see.” As I took out my composition book, my butler sat the case down to take the violin out and rosin up the bow. “Thank you, Wilfred,” I said as he gently leaned bow and instrument against the tree. He then teleported to the other side of the pond, out of hearing distance. I sat down next to the filly. “So Sweetie Belle, before we begin, do you have any questions for me?” “Just one,” she said. “It’s something that’s made me curious since the day I met you. How come you were so quick to give me lessons in the first place?” “What do you mean?” “Well, back when Beethoven was around, he said that he came from roughly the same time period that you did… maybe a few decades later, but still. When I asked him if he would teach me, he wasn’t exactly keen because I happened to be a girl. If anything, he was skeptical that I could write music at all. However, when you came along, I was surprised that you took me on so quickly. Why is that? I mean, no offense, I didn’t expect you to be this open-minded, given the time period you came from.” I nodded, “Yes, what you said is quite true – but at the same time, quite false. The mares from where I came from didn’t think they had the creativity to write music. Ponies saw someone like yourself as only having the mental capability of a foal, so there was little point in teaching them such advanced things. And I would have agreed with them too if it weren’t for two things: that I was a child who could outplay the grown-ups; and my sister could out-compose them.” Sweetie blinked, “You had a sister?” “That’s not the first time ponies have been surprised when I told them that. But yes, my older sister was living proof that mares could be at least as creative as stallions, if not more so. Not only was she capable, but in my view, she had surpassed even me. I’m not so quick to write off your talent because you happen to be a girl. If I did, and knowing my sister, she would crawl out of the grave and haunt me until I gave in.” “Fair enough,” she said as she laid out the paper in front of her. “So… what do you want me to do?” “To begin with, I want to see the method you use to create one of your pieces.” “Like what?” I hummed in thought, “How about we start with something simple? Like, say... a slow movement for violin and piano?” “Let me think…” the young mare leaned back against the bark of the tree, lifting a pencil underneath her chin. She looked out onto the waves of the pond as I watched the gears turning in her head. For a moment she remained still until I heard her hum a string of notes but then sang in “Ah’s” with a melody that was more structured. She scribbled the key signature of B-Flat Major before she sketched the melody. “You didn’t put in the time,” I pointed out. She shook her head, “I don’t need to at this stage. Usually, I put in the melody first; the tempo comes last once I’ve written it out.” The unicorn repeated her method of humming, singing and writing out a few bars before she was satisfied. Before she handed the paper over, she inscribed at the top corner the words: Andantino sostenuto e cantabile. “What do you think?” “Hold that up,” I said as I took my violin in hoof to play the melody. As I played, immediately ideas formed in my head as to how this theme could be structured between the violin and piano. However, I did have to remind myself that I was supposed to be teaching her how to compose. “All right, this has promise. We’ll deal with the harmony later, but tell me, what would you do with this from here?” “Well, I guess I could write a second melody… but what would you do with this?” “If it were me writing it, I’d have this theme as the home key as this starts and ends in B-Flat. And I would use this melody to create some variations that flow from one idea to the next. Like for example,” I repeated the theme, but I put some of the notes on the lower register of the violin and others on the higher strings. Then I created a variation in a minor key with pizzicato before I stopped, “Do you see what I mean? That is how I would do it. For when I write music, I look at sheet music as an architect looks at a blueprint. Because that’s exactly what you are doing, creating a building of sound that has logic, rhyme, and reason.” “Like having music be symmetrical?” she asked. I nodded, “Exactly! However, do keep in mind that while you are the architect, that doesn’t mean that you just repeat the theme at the beginning and end with only one variation in the middle. Ponies wouldn’t find it interesting. Although you’ve already given yourself a theme that somewhat restricts you, at least use it to your advantage to be clever with. This can be done easily by a change in key, or by splitting up the melody among the instruments. Or better yet, have the solo suspend the theme at every other bar while the other instruments slow it down with chords and introversion of the same tune. However, regardless of what you do with it, the most important thing for any composer to do is to be sure that there’s a flow throughout that is clear and direct.” “So it’s like a puzzle in a way,” I told her that was precisely the point. “Okay… Let’s see what I can do.” What this filly did next fascinate me as below the main theme she started to write out different variations in individual staffs on the paper. I watched as she not only broke up the theme, separating certain phrases so they were at higher or lower registers, but she wrote it backward, upside-down and inverted as well. She gave some variations a pizzicato once every fourth line while joining notes for longer strokes of the bow. Then once she came to a point where she couldn’t think of any more, Sweetie then lit her horn and tore the sheet music into long strips. “What are you doing?” I asked her. “You said to think of it as a sort of puzzle, right? Why not put it together as such?” My eyes widened, “Oh!I see what you’re doing.” From there, I also taught her more about the flow of a piece as we put together of how this slow movement was structured. I let my young student listen as I played out the violin, encouraging her to figure out on her own how to create her music using symmetry as a guide. Eventually, after some moving some strips around and sewing pieces of others, I gave her my approval of the end result. “At this point,” I said as I set my violin down to open up my composition book. “we must sketch out the piano part to give the solo a counterpoint. I don’t need to explain what that is, do I?” Sweetie Belle shook her head, “It’s basically a different melody or a set of chords that make the overall theme richer.” I nodded. “This, for me, is my favorite part of composition.” Reaching out the strip of paper with the main theme, I asked her, “How would you begin this piece? Does one instrument take the lead, or do they start together?” The filly looked over my shoulder, “Can the piano start out with the first four notes before the violin starts in?” “I believe it can.” So I started to sketch it out for her. After pushing through the door while the bell rang overhead, my butler called out, “Ms. Rarity? Are you here?” “In a moment,” she entered through a curtain, my red coat in her aura. “Hello Mr. Moztrot, you came at just the right time as I was stitching the last button. And I must say that since I’ve gotten a close look at this coat I’m already coming up with some new ideas. But I’m getting ahead of myself.” She turned her attention to her little sister. “How was your lesson?” “It was a real eye-opener,” she said as she levitated my composition book towards an open page. Rarity asked what she was looking at. “A slow movement for piano and violin. Mr. Moztrot was teaching me a different way of writing music. Sure, it took a while, but I think we got it just right.” “Would you like to hear it?” I asked her as I looked around the shop. “You don’t happen to have a piano nearby, would you?” She groaned, “Oh… I’m afraid that I don’t.” Her eyes widened at a realization. “However, I do know somepony that does. But I don’t know if she’s in yet. Besides, I know that you’re busy-” I gasped, “What’s this? Me too busy to show off my student’s talent? Oh, the Equininety!” But I giggled and restated, “I’m never too busy to play something worth someone else’s time. If anything, today is my free day.” “He’s telling the truth,” Wilfred added. “Wolfgang doesn’t have anything in particular that he needs to do.” “But I am a little curious,” I said. “Whereisthe nearest piano?” “Are you sure we’re allowed in here, Ms. Rarity?” my butler asked again as we walked through the purple halls that looked like they came from the Crystal Empire. According to our tailor, the nearest piano that she was sure that nopony would mind our playing was the one in Princess Twilight’s castle. A castle that was lacking in guards for some reason. So it was understandable from Wilfred’s point of view that we just showed ourselves in what might be considered trespassing. “Twilight won’t mind,” the seamstress said with a wave of her hoof. “Even if she were here, she would welcome us in. After all, it’s practically the town public library on the ground floor.” My friend raised an eyebrow. “And we just happen to be on the second?” “That’s where the piano is.” Sweetie Belle replied. “I come here sometimes when I need one. Besides, it actually belongs to Spike who pretty much critiques my work.” Inside my head, I tried to recollect if I had ever heard that name before. Since I couldn’t find it, I asked her who Spike was. “He’s Princess Twilight’s number one dragon assistant, and he plays the piano.” Before I came to this modern Equestria, if someone had spoken that sentence to me, I would never have believed it. However, since I’ve spent almost a year in which I’ve been introduced to light bulbs, photographic cameras, the phonograph, trains, microphones, speakers, more than one alicorn princess, a play about me, and ponies that I once thought were fairy tales… I thought it wise to keep an open mind. We followed her into a music room. There in the center was one of those modern, black pianos, and I set my violin case on the lid. “So,” I turned to them, “Do any of you know how to play the piano?” Of course, I knew that Sweetie Belle couldn’t because she told me so as we composed the movement. “I technically could,” her older sister told me, “but I’m not good at sight reading. I would need a good deal of practice if I were to get it just right.” “I can,” my butler said. And this surprised me. “You can play the piano?” He nodded. “And sight read.” “Huh… I never knew that you were a musician.” He frowned, “I didn’t think it was important. However, if you wish me to --” “Oh by all means,” I waved a hoof as Sweetie placed the book on the stand. My friend simply nodded as I got out the violin. Of course, there was no need of me to read over the score as it was already in my head. But as I placed the instrument underneath my chin, a thought came to me. “Is it too difficult for you?” Wilfred flipped over the pages. “It’s playable for me,” he said as he raised his hooves over the keys and told me to begin when ready. Thus he started with the soft, opening bar before I came in. With my held notes, together with his near-dancelike notes, it was almost like… As if my sister had come back from the dead. Even writing this, it’s strange for me to admit, but even back then, I thought it was true. The simple, breathtaking melody from the violin and the keyboard that draws you into this heaven was like something that my older sister could have written. For a moment as I played on my part, it was as if her ghost was the one that was really playing the piano. Even though I helped to compose it, even though I knew every note, at the same time, the sound and harmony didn’t sound like either my own or Sweetie Belle’s. But it was hers… Nannerl’s. As I played on, it was almost as if that was her sound. Even as we went into the development section with the double stops and the quickened tempo in a different key that an untrained ear wouldn’t notice. But I would. And she would too in a moment. From the violin solo, it was like hearing her whispering. She wasn’t vengeful or angry. For this was a kinder, forgiving assurance. While I may not have heard her actual voice, the meaning was still present: “Oh look Wolfie, another me! How marvelous. I’d keep a close eye on her if I were you, little brother. From what I can hear, she may one day give the world something to talk about.” By the time the movement came to a close, Ms. Rarity was in awe. “You wrote all of that within an hour?” I shook my head, “I didn’t,” I smirked. “She wrote and developed the melody. I just added the piano part. Which reminds me, excellent playing, Wilfred.” “Very much appreciated,” he nodded. “Do you like it Rarity?” her little sister asked. She, in turn, nuzzled her, “It’s beautiful.”