# Anton: Chapter 14



## Huilunsoittaja (Apr 6, 2010)

Just as Anton expected, he renewed a strange but valuable partnership with Gutheil. They were by no means friends. Anton had thought to himself that he succeeded in getting Gutheil to kiss up to him, but Gutheil meanwhile thought he had Anton in his clutches, but the truth was neither had any real advantage over the other, only the impression. It would be a ravenous, parasitic connection. And yet Anton wasn't finished with him.
Gutheil did give Anton a commission. He was to write a full scale orchestral work, a symphony. Anton was thrilled to finally be able to work on something like this, as he normally only did chamber and solo piano works.
Anton was in one of the most busy periods of his life. He was still a teacher and performer of the piano, but he had taken up a new vocation: choral conducting. He became so brilliant at it that people begged him to do concerts for him. As head conductor of the Russian Choral Society, he got to perform what what was truly his passion: vocal and choral music. The choir always met in the Moscow Conservatory for rehearsals, and so it was easy for Anton to work with them. Concerts were sometimes held at the Conservatory, but also in the great cathedrals of Moscow.
Anton took the time to use his rehearsals for his own composition students. In the Rehearsal room, the choir would take their place in there stands, and Anton's best 3 students sat in the back of the room to watch. Alexander Tikhonovich the oldest, Alexander Nikolayevich the middle, and Sergei Vasilievich who only one year younger than Alexander Nikolayevich.
Alexander Tikhonovich got along terribly with Anton. He was only 3 years younger than Anton, and they fought over Anton's criticism of his music all the time. Alexander Nikolayevich, short in appearance and big in ego, was unfortunately inspired to do the same, even if he was much younger. Anton was quite stressed out with both of them, but he kept on with them. He knew they were talented, but it made him angry to see them reject his suggestions when he knew perfectly well that it would do them good. But both of them had different ideals in music, things which couldn't be reconciled, and which Anton had long quit trying to persuade them to stick to his own ideals.
Sergei Vasilievich was quite different though. He was very tall and quiet, but was much more kinder than his colleagues. He did not argue with Anton at all, but was very respectful, and took all his criticisms very seriously. Of all the composers Anton had taught, Sergei did not only have talent, but he had an excellent character, which he felt would bring him a long way. If anything, Anton had learned that getting on in the Music World took integrity and not just brilliance. Although, his other students were challenging this mightily.
"If I were to compose something," Alexander Nikolaevich whispered to Sergei Vasilievich, "I would compose a choral work about the glory of Man!"
"Now why on earth would you want to do that?" Sergei Vasilievich frowned in annoyance. He had already had this kind of conversation 5 times before at least.
"It's the truth Sergei! Enough with all this religious stuff, it's all brainwash. Man is God."
"Be quiet! We are starting." Anton called to them behind. His students say up attentively with scores to watch what they were playing.
It was typically Russian choral music that was rehearsed, but on occasion something in German or French, at Anton's subtle suggestions.
That day, they got a new work, written by a Russian composer who Anton didn't know personally. The work was called "The Mountain Tops," a very cheerful sacred work.
While the choir was sight-reading this piece, and Anton too, Sergei Vasilievich saw to his left the door begin to open slowly. A man discreetly stepped in, and came and sat near him, but not too close, and smiled.
"Are you a student?" the stranger whispered.
"Yes, but who are you? I've not seen you here before."
"You are right, I only came here for a semester, but had to leave. This is my piece."
Sergei Vasilievich started. The man grinned.
This man was definitely older than himself but had a youthfulness about him still. He had short brown hair like Sergei Vasilievich, and a handsome face. But there was something pale and weak about him. He did not move or speak very fast. The other 2 students watched the stranger suspiciously, but said nothing.
The rehearsal went on for several minutes more, and this stranger was very excited at what he was hearing, smiling at Sergei Vasilievich many times.
Suddenly the stranger went into a coughing spell. The 3 students turned to him in sympathy but the other 2 in annoyance. Anton couldn't help turning around, and finally saw the stranger.
"Who are you, may I ask?" Anton said.
"I'm very sorry Anton Stepanovich, it was not my intention to disturb your rehearsal, and I--"
"But who are you?"
"My name is Vasily Sergeyevich. I composed the work that you are now rehearsing."
There was a sudden murmur of admiration among all the people in the room. Anton looked at him quite surprised.
"There was no need for you to be quiet when you came in, I would have given the baton to you right away!"
"Ah, no no no, there is no need. But I mean... would you let me try?"
"Are you skilled?"
"Relatively, though not as much as you I think."
"Well come up then."
Vasily Sergeyevich got up, and stood in front of the choir, smiling again although he seemed very ill some moments before.
Anton watched him carefully as he began directing the choir. His method was definitely different from his own, but also more fluid. The man was very emotive with his face, giving the diction to the singers spot-on. Anton began to listen to the work him self, and became very impressed, but at the same time, very unnerved. Who was this composer, and how come he hadn't heard of him before?
When the choir went through the whole piece, the students behind him clapped, and the stranger bowed.
"Thank you for this chance to conduct my piece," he said, but couldn't say more because he got into another coughing spell.
"Are you alright?" Anton frowned worriedly.
"Ah, I am for now, please don't trouble," Vasily Sergeyevich finally replied with a smile, though Anton could tell now he was in a bit of pain.
The rehearsal was to go on for a bit more, but Anton begged him to stay so he could talk with him later. So Vasily Sergeyevich went and sat down where he was before. He did not cough anymore for the remaining of the rehearsal.
It was that day that he became acquainted with Anton and indeed started a true friendship with Sergei Vasilievich. Anton was extremely surprised to find that Vasily had never taken any lessons of composition at Moscow or even St. Petersburg, but with a German ex-patriot. Thus, he was almost left off the map. Besides that, he didn't make composition his priority but was more into performing, directing, private tutoring and copying.
"This can't do!" Anton replied to everything that was told him. "You certainly must compose more! Even come back here for studying if you wish!"
"Thank you, but I am... beyond that stage now," Vasily frowned.
"Is it you can't afford it?"
"That is part. But not all..."
Anton frowned again. "Well, I hope you continue to compose."
"Thank you. I really appreciate it."
"What a curious man!" Sergei told Anton as they left the building. "I like him a lot, he's seems very nice, and indeed very humble."
"Yes, and there's something more... a sort of hesitation. I wonder what it is from."
"Could it be his illness?" Sergei asked in a hushed tone.
"Yes, that is possible. It reminded me of a... consumptive kind of cough... But that's not for us to meditate on. By the way, how has your string quartet gone so far?"
"Alright... I got stuck on one part."
"How so?"
"I went into a harmonic corner with a very long sequence that was going just fine, but I don't know how to resolve it for a different modulation."
"Would you like me to see it?"
"If you like."
"That's well of you... tell me, Sergei... what is it that makes you different from all my other students?"
"Am I different?"
"Certainly! You're the only one that doesn't argue with me!"
Both laughed.
"Well, I'm not that personality, sir. And I want to learn. You give me enough freedom, I think. And I like what you like. That's all I can think of."
"Yes. There may be more though," Anton stopped him, and looked at him gravely.
"Tell me, I've known you 2 years now about. Are you spiritual?"
"I am. And not in Alexander Nikolayevich's way."
"Ah! So am I... but would you happen to be... an idealist?"
"A 'realist idealist' perhaps, something in between. Why do you ask?"
"Oh... just wondering..."
They parted then.


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