Scrap Review by Park Sun-young in English

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[Play News, Reporter Park Sun-young] There were 10 windmills on the stage, making one wonder if there were  mmicrophones After the blackout, an invisible person played the piano from the white piano on the left. The low resonating sound, the sound of the wind, and the light that seemed to depict the universe appeared on the windmills as a VR hologram. The girl in a white dress, like a ghost, emerged on the stage. Instead of the usual center stage, she appeared on the stage in the corner behind the black piano. The ghostly piano sound became the sound of Kang Hyo-Jee. From intense low tones to high pitches, the sound resonated, and at the end, the sound disappeared, leaving only silence.

A red light illuminated the wall, and the voices of children could be heard. Whether it was from childhood or the sound connected to the next generation, the sound resonated with the soul. The five fingers playing the piano expanded under the red light. The shadow of those five fingers on the stage wall represents Kang Hyo-ji, including herself, a family member with no fingers that are painless. Just like in Hwang Sun-won's novel "Sonagi," the sound of rain could be heard refreshing on this summer stage.

The woman's gestures started off gentle, then became intense as she shook the beads. Her legs, spread out on the floor, gradually rose again, resembling a green amoeba or an iris. Along with the high Eb note, the drawn diagonal line faced a holographic green light image instead of a windmill. Along that path, it finally reached the white piano, and Part 1 came to an end.

The stage seemed silent during the intermission. Kang Hyo-Jee quietly left the stage, and it seemed like it was over. But a pedestal  was placed in the middle of the stage, and Saxophonist Kang Tae-hwan sat on the stool. It was the first time seeing his trademark circular breathing up close. His throat and cheek alternated, moving the air from the abdomen to the chest, from the throat to the cheek. The breath that entered through the nose moved from the cheek to the abdomen. The saxophone's breath moved to the piano, creating a dialogue of wavelengths as they crossed each other. Suddenly, at a robotic speed, Kang Hyo-Jee descended from the high notes, striking the piano keys. Oh, by the way, this time Kang Hyo-Jee wearing a spring light dress. Red, yellow, and emerald colors formed a flower garden together.

On the evening of July 8th, Saturday, at 7:30 PM, the performance began, and the number of audience members had increased. Between Kang Tae-hwan and Kang Hyo-Jee,  they danced a waltz, rumba, and tango. Their improvisation, fueled by the driving force of Kang Tae-hwan's saxophone, never leaving the instrument, found direction in the central tone they presented and took shape with the added rhythm. The saxophone produced various sounds, including sustained low tones and circular breathing, creating fast rhythms, repeating the same notes, and producing melodic runs. In response, the piano also repeated the same notes in a fast and rippling manner, produced melodic runs, touched on octaves, and unfolded rapid and eerie rhythmic melodies, before suddenly transitioning to a somewhat gentle and lyrical melody, as if nothing had happened. The piano possessed beauty.

After the performance, Kang Hyo-Jee and Saxophonist Kang Tae-hwan greeted the audience on stage.

If the performance ended with the piano and saxophone playing, VR hologram images based on brain data, the sound of rain, recorded electronic piano sounds, and interactive performances, the audience might have returned home filled with inspiration. However, Kang Hyo-Jee, a clever performer, engaged in a conversation with the audience, showing her professor-like demeanor, as commented by Professor Lee Don-eung of Seoul National University's Composition/Arts and Science Center. Facilitated by Professor Sung Yong-won of Sangmyung University, the conversation involved eight audience members asking questions and expressing their impressions.

One young child said that when Kang Hyo-Jee played the piano, it felt like thunder. In response, Kang Hyo-Jee explained that she expressed the sadness of Jeju, such as the Hiroshima atomic bomb and the Jeju 4.3 incident, through fast and intense sounds like volcanic eruptions. Some humanists thought that this performance represented discrete infinity, representing the discontinuous infinity of human thought. When a painter asked if the hologram was projected on a large projection screen, Kang Hyo-Jee explained that considering the conditions of a classical concert hall, they created an installation of ten small projection screens. Among the performances this summer, which focus on technology, such as the AI conducting performance by the National Gugak Orchestra and composer Kim Ja-hyun's AI composition, Kang Hyo-Jee unfolded the problem of "emotion," expressing it through inner exploration and encounters with the universe.