Chapter 779: The Great Legacy (24)

A PBS channel special documentary scheduled in the late-night slot.

[He Was Like the Sun.]

It was a documentary the public broadcaster had relentlessly promoted with trailers for the past week.

The subject was the musician Sun Myungjoo.

Originally the documentary was set to air in 2019, the twentieth anniversary of his passing, but the schedule had been moved up.

All because of one idol enjoying nationwide popularity right now.

—“Wooju’s father has a documentary airing.”

—“Wow, the schedule says it’s a three-part documentary today lol PBS really went all out”

—“He must have been really famous ㄷㄷ”

—“They’re calling him ‘Wooju’s father’ instead of Sun Myungjoo lol the world has changed huh”

For younger people, the title “Sun Wooju’s father” appeared before the name “Sun Myungjoo.”

That was hardly surprising.

To the young generation, Sun Myungjoo was interesting because of the performances Wooju was doing now.

[Realtime search terms]

Sun Myungjoo

Wooju father

Viewers about to watch the documentary searched his name on portals but there wasn’t much reliable information.

—“Sun Myungjoo, Wooju’s father... turns out he was a world-class jazz musician?”

—“Wooju’s dad was insane back then”

—“[Music Topic] Sun Myungjoo’s music is ‘light and breezy’”

Aside from a blog post by someone who looked like a jazz enthusiast, there was little solid info.

[Hello. Welcome to my blog! Today we’ll learn about Wooju’s father!]

When you clicked that, the post basically ended there.

“No, what did you teach us?”

Some clickbait videos on patriotic MyTube had flashy titles like [The Asian Who Made Americans Cry ㄷㄷㄷ], but offered little substance—maybe a photo of Sun Myungjoo with an American president and not much else.

[If you think about it in old terms, it was like a Joseon figure being received by the Chinese emperor?]

Nonsense.

Strange write-ups, promotional blogs—things aimed at boosting views overwhelmed genuine information.

“There’s a lot of material... if you bother to look.”

If you searched “Sun Myungjoo” in English, you’d find an enormous amount of papers and footage—far more than under the Korean spelling.

But hardly anyone went that far.

They were too lazy.

‘Was he more famous abroad than in Korea?’

There are always people who say “that person is huge overseas,” and this seemed to be that case.

Older generations were similarly uninformed.

“Dad, was Sun Myungjoo really that famous?”

“He was huge. He caused a stir in the U.S., Japan—he was in the papers every day.”

“What was he famous for?”

“Well......”

Even older people faltered at the end of the sentence.

Unlike his international renown, Sun Myungjoo’s domestic stardom had peaked around the time of the financial crisis and then faded after his death.

In short, Korea was in a strange position.

—“Sun Myungjoo is back.”

After the trailer surpassed ten million views, people still didn’t know much about him.

Online communities posted images like [Wooju father in his prime] or [Sun Myungjoo at his peak], but details about how he became a musician or how he went overseas were hard to find.

So PBS’s documentary was a chance to satisfy that curiosity.

—“Looks like it’s starting soon”

—“Time to see how awesome Wooju’s dad really was”

—“PBS seems to have put a lot into this”

—“It’s starting”

With those expectations, viewers across households raised their remotes and turned up the volume.

At last, with the age-rating notice, the documentary began.

[During the fierce Cold War.]

Narration and archival footage rolled.

John F. Kennedy addressing the Cuban Missile Crisis.

The space race with Yuri Gagarin and Armstrong representing Russia and the U.S.

Ronald Reagan’s speech, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” and the fall of the Berlin Wall.

[When the competition between the two superpowers ended with America’s victory, the world at last entered a peaceful era.]

A sense of a new post–Cold War era.

[As cultural barriers fell, the world began to unify. It was in this era that global superstars started to emerge.]

Footage of a global pop star doing the moonwalk with cheering Russian audiences played.

[The first scene you’ll see is a performance by someone active in that era.]

A subtitle appeared.

<1996>

White actors who specialized in reenactment sat at a table and shook hands.

The negotiation was a cultural-exchange plan between the U.S. and Russia.

Artists from the Western free world and the communist bloc performing in each other’s countries.

[Moscow, Russia]

A dot blinked on the European map at Moscow and new archival footage began.

[Woooooo—!]

Famous stars performed on a stage in Red Square to cheering Russian crowds.

Ahead of a popular rock band Devil Grills’ set, a man came onto the stage.

At first people expected something great.

When the man sat at the piano, boos began.

[Uuuuuuu—!]

The crowd, impatient with a dull performance, shouted “Get off!” in Russian and jeered.

At that moment the man put his hands on the piano.

[Ddddddddd-]

He seemed to answer the boos with the piano itself.

The Russians hesitated, then gave embarrassed laughs as the piano turned the jeers into music.

[Здравствуйте (Hello).]

The handsome man brought the mic to his mouth and greeted them fluently in Russian.

[My name is Sun Myungjoo. Well, that pronunciation might be a little difficult for some of you.]

A bright, son-like smile appeared on his lips.

[If it’s hard to remember, just call me Sun.]

Even as he spoke he played the piano, producing harmonies that stunned listeners.

Because of the unique harmonies it felt like something otherworldly was speaking.

While he played, his wife, cellist Lee Myung-eun, and other musicians came onstage.

[At first you might have thought, “Oh... here’s a boring pianist,” but I’m a jazz musician. Do you know what jazz is, Moscow?]

[Woooo!]

[That shout, I’ll take as a Yes.]

His cheeky smile brought slight smiles to the crowd’s faces.

While the musicians finished setting up, he looked over the sea of one million people filling the square and spoke.

[There are so many people. It feels like looking at a galaxy full of stars.]

He made a brief remark praising Russia and its revered figure Yuri Gagarin.

It was a comment about a time of peace.

Then, after tuning, he sat at the piano again.

A piano began to play.

Under it the cello, jazz instruments, and humming vocals layered softly while the genius smiled.

[Speaking of Wooju... may I tell you a funny story? Imagine the Sun being only this size right now. Mercury is sixty-eight meters from me.]

He pointed to someone roughly seventy meters away and asked if they could hear him; the crowd responded with cheers.

[A tremendous cheer. Hello, Mercury.]

Mercury cheered.

[Next is eighty meters—Venus! Venus! Let’s hear a cheer for Venus!]

The people at the 140-meter line roared.

[And at 170 meters we have Earth.]

The audience at Earth’s position laughed and cheered “Earth!”

Mars, Jupiter....

By the time he reached Neptune and Pluto at the edge of the square, the man named Sun flashed a charming smile at the crowd.

[Welcome, everyone.]

[From now on I will invite you into my solar system.]

Fingers slid across the keys as the crowd erupted.

Viewers at home leaned forward to savor more of the performance.

Fade.

“Uh......”

The screen went dark and the title and subtitle appeared.

[He Was Like the Sun <Part 1>]

[The Orphanage Child]

At those titles, viewers who had been overwhelmed by Sun Myungjoo’s aura blinked.

“Wow......”

Even through the grainy 1990s footage the aura came through.

People realized where the star quality his son displayed had come from.

After an opening that could be called the best among this year’s documentaries, PBS’s ratings climbed steeply.

—“PBS doc is killing it lol”

—“For real, it’s huge—everyone watch”

—“The opening was insane lol”

Fans and networked netizens urged others to watch; a clip from the Moscow performance spread rapidly on SNS.

New viewers tuned their TVs in.

Unfortunately, the scene that stunned many had already passed.

But then—

[Photos from his orphanage days.]

archival photos of a beautiful boy with a sharp jawline appeared and people stuck with the channel.

“Damn, he was so handsome.”

Korea’s collective collector instinct for beauty kicked in.

The documentary proceeded engagingly.

[Winston Ross / Musician]

He was truly talented. When I heard his playing I thought, “Damn, I’m getting old.” Ha ha ha.

Various people recounted Sun Myungjoo’s childhood and early years.

It unfolded like the story of any music-film protagonist.

A child prodigy at the piano, he studied abroad and suffered racial discrimination.

After various misfortunes he returned to Korea and started his own music.

—“His life was like a movie, sir”

—“But wow he’s so handsome; the parents are gorgeous”

—“When beauty and beauty meet, Sun Wooju is born”

—“lol everyone calls them father and mother in the comments”

—“But calling him Sun Myungjoo feels weird lol”

No extra narration or effects were needed.

Viewers accepted why Sun Myungjoo had swept the world.

Striking looks.

Genius apparent even in simple playing.

A captivating speaking style.

—“I get why Wooju’s dad was huge back then”

—“No kidding (face)”

—“Even if he’d stuck to classical he’d have been an idol in the classical world”

—“If he’d fully gone pop the world would’ve gone insane lol”

—“Agreed”

As people nodded at the last comment, footage shifted to the familiar Lemon Entertainment building and a handsome five-member group practicing.

A brief interview with Sun Wooju about his father ran, and viewers found it convincing.

—“Earlier someone said if he’d gone into pop he’d be huge—well, the son did that”

—“When father went pop, its future: Sun Wooju”

—“Totally get it lol”

—“Father... his son became a pop star”

—“Watching Wooju every day makes people wish for a kid like that”

—“I want that successor, but my parents don’t make the effort”

—“They missed becoming chaebol because mom didn’t try hehe”

—“Is this the legendary filial child group?”

Meanwhile, a four-member quartet peeking at the leader through the practice-room glass made viewers laugh.

As the documentary continued, viewers grew contemplative.

‘Something...’

A feeling of nostalgia crept in.

Even though the footage was from the 1980s and 1990s—years some viewers weren’t even born for—those archival scenes induced a strange, nonexistent nostalgia.

It felt like the Belle Époque or an early twentieth-century romance film.

Although none of them had lived in the steam-locomotive era, they felt nostalgic.

“......”

Watching Sun Myungjoo’s early life, viewers felt a strange, melancholy wistfulness.

Longing.

Reminiscence.

A subtle emptiness at the fact the person they were coming to love was no longer alive.

“......”

As that strange mood settled and Part 1 ended, a trailer for Part 2 appeared.

Pianist Paul Laurent.

Violin queen Lyla Burton.

Faces familiar to music lovers traced Sun Myungjoo’s footsteps.

[He Was Like the Sun <Part 2>]

[A Great Legacy]

The preview showed the traces he left behind still remained.

“Shall we watch Part 2 next week?”

“...We should.”

Such short exchanges appeared while news about the documentary spread online.

—“PBS special doc ‘He Was Like the Sun’... the biography of a genius”

—“[Park Changsoo Column] A life more cinematic than a film”

—“PBS doc on Sun Myungjoo ‘rave reviews’... When will the concert be?”

Articles and posts rolled in through entertainment communities and SNS.

Meanwhile—

‘When is the concert?’

Like viewers who watched a sequel’s prequel, people began looking forward to the announced follow-up.

A concert poster on a ticketing site listed a January date and a constellation-shaped portrait of a genius.

[2018 Sun Myungjoo’s Last Concert]

[His Last Vow]

People glanced at the ticketing date.

The venue was the Seoul Arts Center.

The draw-entry format appeared and people pressed the apply button.

“I want to see it.”

A last concert prepared twenty years ago—everyone was ready for the sequel.

Yesterday’s documentary had received excellent reviews.

Its ratings were reportedly the highest among this year’s documentaries.

“Woah......”

Seokhwan hyung sent me a chart and I was stunned.

Huge numbers.

“All these people want to see the performance?”

“Yep.”

“They limited one ticket per person and used a draw, so that probably helped.”

“Good.”

The concert was a draw at the request of my father.

[Looking at how tickets get snapped up these days, the young are scary. People line up in front of banks to get tickets...]

So to give older people a fair chance, he insisted on a lottery system.

In his day people queued up from dawn to get tickets.

Except for a few specially invited guests, the rest would be filled by lottery.

—“People online say it’s like a lotto draw; competition higher than subscription”

—“That’s great.”

It was a relief the concert had captured interest.

I didn’t read every reaction online, just enough.

Of course, anti-fans blamed us of exploiting parents or profiteering from a corpse, so I ignored them.

One comment slipped into my attention.

—“Watching yesterday made me thankful my dad is still aliveㅠㅠ”

When I saw reactions like that I was at a loss for words.

I told myself to stop following it.

“Phew.”

I regretted checking the internet just to see my father’s reactions.

Around me, Manager Minsu placed NewBlack mini dolls on the seats.

“What’s that?”

“They asked us to put dolls so the members feel like someone’s holding their seat.”

I laughed.

Someone would think we were away for days.

“Just a day trip, anyway.”

Even as I said that I smiled unconsciously.

The captain’s announcement had been playing.

[Good morning, Mr. Wooju. Our flight is now departing for New York.]

The big-screen in the private jet displayed the East Coast metropolis.

The mecca of jazz.

Today we would visit a New York recording studio to participate in my father’s final album session.