↘ coffee table jazz.
krminseok
nestled in the furthest left section of the string instruments, amidst the endless rows of violins and violas, a small figure finds herself running nimble fingers across a two-stringed bow. she squints at the musical instrument, studying how modern it appears as opposed to ones she’s seen back home -- surely, its been a long time since proto-mongolic instruments were introduced to china, but seoul seems so much more innovated than beijing.
she’d been used to the rapidly growing capital city, known the gleaming glass tower and the many modern buildings dominating the capital's ever-expanding skyline, but seoul always seemed so different, so streamline and so modernized.
even the construction of one of the oldest instruments, dating back more than a thousand years ago, seems so refashioned. though the vertical stick-like neck, the two large turning pegs, and the bottom resonator body seem the same, it seems somehow different. the sound box is covered with python skin, just the same as it would be back home, and yuqi thinks maybe she’s just been away from instruments too long -- long enough for it to seem a little foreign.
after all, she’s spent her days lately orchestrating a symphony of coffee cups clinking together with the sound of the bell at the foot of the cafe door, so it’s no wonder she’s feeling odd looking at the versatile instrument.
“ excuse me -- “ yuqi calls out when she sees someone rounding the corner, notepad in hand, perhaps taking inventory of cellos nearby. she smiles brightly when she catches their attention, gesturing to the display of instruments in front of her, “ is this the only selection of erhu? “