Chief among the structures huddled around Fairydwale’s Great Market Square is the stately orchestra building. Since time immemorial, the most magical symphonies from all over the land of fairy-tales have been heard here. The orchestra is highly regarded and has had many admirers for centuries. But the biggest fan was undoubtedly Princess Petronella van Fairydwale. She lived here long, long ago. The princess was a shy and reserved lady. She did not like to appear in public and therefore rarely left the palace. If you did happen to pass her in the street, she would look right through you and say nothing. She lived a quiet and austere life. But she knew only one love. That was the music played by Dwaele’s Orchestra, which she faithfully came to listen to every day. A new piece every day. That was the agreement. Seated in the largest seat in the concert hall, she devoured symphonies, cantatas, and operas, invariably with her eyes closed, from which a tear would often escape. After the performance, she quickly hid this tear in a royal handkerchief, thanked the orchestra with a cool nod, and left the hall. As a consequence, she had listened to endless amounts of music during her long life. She loved it so much that her constant craving for new music almost led to the orchestra’s demise at a bad time.
One evening, the conductor was working in his study when there was a knock at the door. Before he could answer, the door swung open and a sinewy lady stormed in. It was the first violinist, holding a large stack of sheet music in her hands. With panic in her eyes, she threw it on the conductor’s desk. “It’s happened! It’s finally happened!” Startled, the conductor looked at his first violinist. “What happened?”
The first violinist tapped her hand on the pile of sheet music. “The music… We’ve run out of music!” The conductor stood up. “Run out? What do you mean ‘run out’?” The violinist whimpered: “Well… Run out! Finished. Done. Our princess has listened to so much music in her life that there’s no new music left. The melodies have run out!” She sank into a chair and covered her eyes with her hands. “Oh, and I saw it coming, but of course no one listened to me! What now? What do we do now?”
“Come, come”, said the conductor. “Don’t worry so. There must be something new to discover, right?” The first violinist pointed to the large pile of paper on the desk. “Believe me, I’ve looked everywhere, but everything has already been played. I’ve put the best composers in town on it, but no one can come up with anything new. As soon as they write down just three notes, it already sounds like a piece the princess has heard before. Oh, it’s enough to drive you crazy!”
The conductor looked despairingly at the enormous pile of scores on his desk. “But that would mean we couldn’t play any new music for the princess tomorrow.” The first violinist spread her arms. “Ah, finally, do you get it now? It’s a catastrophe!” The conductor walked to the window and stared outside. No new music for the princess. That had never happened to him before in his entire life. Day after day, year after year, he had been able to treat the princess to beautiful new music, but if his violinist was right… this was an utter disaster! He stared at the horizon. Then he said softly: “Well, there’s only one thing left to do.”
The violinist looked at him startled. “You don’t mean…?”
The conductor nodded. “Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I mean.”
The violinist jumped out of her chair and stood in front of the conductor. You’re not going to ask him, are you? Please tell me it isn’t true.”
The conductor shrugged his shoulders. “I’m afraid we have no other choice in this situation.” The first violinist stared into the eyes of her conductor. “Luciano Crescendo? You really do mean it!”
“We have no choice”, replied the conductor. The first violinist rolled her eyes. “Luciano Crescendo, the most feared composer in the entirety of the land of fairy-tales. That man has an ego bigger than Mount Dwaele. His attitude has already ruined more than we can bear. Not to mention his music. The last time he performed his music here, the audience ran out of the hall. And the orchestra followed! You then banned him from this building for life. Have you forgotten that? Luciano Crescendo is not a composer. He’s a stick of dynamite!” The conductor nodded. That’s all correct. But if there’s one person in Dwaele who can come up with something completely new, it’s him. Have him come to the orchestra building tomorrow evening.
The next evening, the conductor arrived early. He paced nervously back and forth. Tonight he needed new music, and the only person who could help him with that was already on his way. Luciano Crescendo, a huge man with an even bigger ego. The conductor remembered him well. After all, it was he who had denied Crescendo access to the orchestra building last time, never to return. And here he stood. Waiting for a miracle that only Crescendo could bring. Across the street, a carriage turned onto Dwaele Market. There he is. The conductor sighed. Had he done the right thing?
Once the carriage had stopped in front of the orchestra building, the door swung open. And there he was, alighting his transport; Luciano Crescendo. He seemed even bigger than ever as he freed his enormous frame from the carriage. His belly rubbed against the doorway. From above his enormous nose, he looked down at the conductor, who nodded to him. “Mr. Crescendo, we need your help.”
Luciano tucked a stack of sheet music under his arm and strode past the conductor toward the entrance. “Well, well, well. My help? Sure, why not?” The conductor had to work hard to keep up with him. “Yes, you see, we’ve come to the conclusion that we can no longer compose new music for our princess. The melodies seem to have run out.
Luciano walked briskly. “Nonsense.”
The conductor jogged after the enormous man, panting. We hope that you’ll be able to assist us in this matter. Suddenly Luciano stopped and turned around. He loomed over the conductor. “Perhaps you should have thought about that before you banned me from the building.”
The conductor searched for words, but Luciano had already turned around and was walking toward the entrance doors of the main auditorium. With a huge push, he swung them open. There, on the stage, the orchestra was already waiting. With a mixture of horror and fear, they watched Luciano walk onto the stage. “Yes, you are correct. I’m back. And rightly so”, he said triumphantly. “A genius like me won’t be banished from this auditorium.” He tossed the pile of sheet music to the first violinist and urged her to distribute the pieces. He turned around and saw that the conductor had taken his place on the podium. “What are you doing? Go away!” With a huge push, he threw the conductor off the stage. “I’m not going to let you chase me away twice, brat. My music. My podium.”
At that moment, the doors to the hall opened again. There was the princess. She descended the stairs with regal strides. When Petronella saw Luciano Crescendo standing on stage, she paused for a moment. But the conductor kindly motioned for her to take her seat. Oh, he must know what he’s doing. She sat down and closed her eyes. Luciano tapped his music stand and the orchestra began to play.
With grand gestures, Luciano conducted the orchestra through the first few bars. The room slowly filled with music. But suddenly the princess opened her eyes and stood up. The orchestra stopped playing immediately. Princess Petronella looked displeased. “Um, with all due respect, I would like to point out that I have heard this piece before. Can’t you play something new?” Luciano turned around and looked at the princess angrily. What? What was that woman thinking? Did she think she could tell him what new music was? He, the great composer Luciano Crescendo? Just wait, he would show her. He instructed the orchestra to turn to the second sheet and tapped his baton on the music stand. Once again, the hall was filled with music. But yet again, the princess stood up. “I thought I was clear. I asked you to play something new. I already know this piece.” Once again, Luciano glared fiercely at the princess. What a terrible person she was. How could she doubt his genius? Just wait and see. The next piece would definitely blow her away. He spread his enormous arms and the orchestra played again. But once again, the princess stopped the music after just a few bars. And then again. And again! Piece by piece, the princess barked from the hall: “I already know that! Yes, this one too! I know that one as well! Boring!” Luciano turned white as a sheet. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he worked his way rapidly through his pile of music. How could that princess already know all his music? Was it true after all? Had something really happened that no one had anticipated? Had all the melodies really just run out? Then he would never be able to come up with anything new either! He refused to believe it. After all, he was Luciano Crescendo. The great composer, who was greater than music itself.
Nevertheless, after several hours, only one sheet remained on his desk. This had to be the one! The piece of music that the princess did not yet know. The anxious first bars rang out through the hall. And for a moment, it seemed as if everything had fallen silent. Could he have succeeded after all? But unfortunately, behind him, the princess’s voice rang out again. “Yes, stop, stop, stop! I already know this one too. Pfff, can’t you really come up with anything new?” At that moment, something snapped in Luciano’s mind. How was this possible? He started screaming and foaming at the mouth. He was furious! He jumped up and down angrily on his podium. His gelatinous gut was flying in all directions. The orchestra members clung anxiously to each other as the stage beneath them began to shake more and more violently. Nothing and no one could stop Luciano’s frenzy. He waved his music stand wildly as he began to stamp harder and harder. Here and there, the boards on the stage began to come loose. The first violinist tried to calm Luciano down, but it was already too late. With a tremendous crack, the stage collapsed under the weight of the stomping Luciano, and with a thunderous roar, the entire orchestra disappeared into the depths.
There was silence for a moment. Until someone in the audience began to cheer enthusiastically and applaud. It was the princess. She stood up on her chair and shouted: “Bravo! Bravo! What a fantastic piece! See, this is what I meant. What passion. What zealous fervour! Intense, certainly, but above all… new!” She tapped the surprised conductor next to her on the shoulder. “Good man, what a brilliant idea to invite Luciano Crescendo. My compliments, really!”
The conductor looked at the stage in dismay. There he saw the first orchestra members climbing out of the hole, their broken instruments in their hands. That didn’t look good. But next to him, the princess was still ecstatic. “Bravo! This was truly brilliant. What a commotion. What courage. Good man, I expect you to perform the same piece for me again tomorrow. That’ll be possible, won’t it? Oh, I can’t wait! She jumped up, nodded to the bewildered orchestra members, and left the hall elated.
On stage, the orchestra members dusted off their clothes. Trombones were straightened, strings were pulled out of hair, and bits of violin were gathered together. The conductor watched with mixed feelings. Same piece tomorrow? Well, that could be a problem.
Suddenly, a loud voice rang out from the hole in the stage. It was Luciano. “Hahaaa, see, I told you so! I did it!” he shouted, as his enormous frame clambered out of the hole. “Naturally I never doubted it for a moment. If the princess wants a unique piece, she’ll get it! Because I, Luciano Crescendo, don’t write music… no, no, no… I AM music! And as long as I live, this orchestra will never disappoint the princess again.”
And so it came to pass that from that day on, night after night, the Dwaele Orchestra willingly jumped into the hole please the princess. The noise could be heard far beyond Dwaele. But the princess enjoyed it. Because it sounded different every time, and always new. And that was exactly what she wanted. When the entire orchestra had once again disappeared into the pit before her eyes, she searched for the right words with tear-filled eyes: This orchestra was extraordinary, brilliant, fantastic, downright astonishing, or even more than that… smashing!
