
The debut novel of singer Tui Hirv is about a young woman making her first steps in life and classical music. Emotions heat up thanks to a strange relationship with a love from her past, by balancing what is permissible and what isn’t with older male colleagues and teachers and, of course, by the music itself.
We didn’t pause once. We played both cycles in the right tempo according to the dynamics prescribed by the composer. I had to remember everything that Rasmus once taught me about interpreting during our piano lessons, because the same applies exactly to vocals. A composer’s notes need the utmost attention. It’s one of the prerequisites of professionalism. When the music stopped, I held my breath for a moment.
Rasmus’ playing had carried me through my songs. I understood all of his musical aspirations. He let me shine when I had a high note, he gave me room to breathe when I had a lot of text, and he didn’t overpower me when I was singing low.
It was like dancing the tango with a great partner.
“Hedda, that was just brilliant,” said Rasmus after a long pause.
“I was just about to say the same thing!” I cheered.
(continued in the book)