Avatar "The Fire and Ash": Is it really DRY? [PART 2]

Source: Pinterest

** Read the PART 1 firstly ^^

The Role of Kiri and the Evolution of Responsibility

This shift is also visible in who actually prays to Eywa. In Avatar 1, it was Jake Sully. In Avatar 2, we had Kiri, who despites being confused about her identity, became the medium for connecting with Eywa. Then, in Avatar 3, Kiri is the one fully connected to her. Now, here is where things got a bit weird for me. While Kiri is in the spirit world trying to meet Eywa, there’s a scene where she walks forward but a gust of wind holds her back. This happens a second time when Spider and Tuk are there too. This hasn't been discussed much on social media, but having watched it twice, this moment felt "off" to me. I’m struggling to explain it, but maybe you guys can help if you get what I mean.

There’s another part I almost missed, but I think it’s crucial, occurring right before Eywa intervenes through those squid-like sea creatures. Tuk, the youngest, is captured by Quaritch. Then Neytiri, who had just finished helping Ronal, the Metkayina Tsahìk, give birth, is also captured in the same sequence of events, alongside the presence of Varang by Quaritch's side. At this point, the situation becomes much more intimidating because it's not just Quaritch; the leader of the Fire and Ash clan is there too. Meanwhile, Jake Sully is in pain from an arrow wound, and he’s with Lo’ak. This is where a major piece of character development happens.

For the first time, Jake Sully explicitly acknowledges his pride in Lo’ak. In Avatar 2, Lo’ak was often treated as the "rookie", the one who wasn't relied upon and had to step aside for his more "capable" older brother. In Avatar 3, that dynamic flips. Because of that acknowledgment, Jake isn't just proud; he asks Lo’ak to work with him. There’s a line that really hit home for me when Jake says to Lo’ak something like, “I need you. I need a wingman.” That’s a huge moment. It goes from "you're not ready" to "I need you." From there, Jake and Lo’ak eventually save Neytiri and Tuk together.

Comparing it to Avatar 2, it definitely feels repetitive. In the second film, Tuk and Kiri were the ones kidnapped, and they were saved by Jake, Neytiri, and the boys, Neteyam and Lo’ak. The pattern is the same: kidnapping, a rescue on a ship, and intense conflict. But in Avatar 3, the development is clear: different people are kidnapped, different people do the saving, and the role dynamics have shifted. Plus, Varang’s presence next to Quaritch makes the situation feel significantly more threatening. Meanwhile, Kiri is in a separate position. She’s with Spider after connecting with the Tree of Souls. From there, they also head to the ship.

At the end of the conflict on the ship, Spider is actually the one who makes the first move. He offers himself up: if Quaritch wants him, then Neytiri and Tuk must be released. In a sense, Spider "surrenders" himself. It almost works. The following scene is a bit of a blur in my memory regarding the technical details, but the point is: Neytiri and Tuk manage to escape, only to be blocked again by Varang. At this point, Kiri steps in. It’s clear that after understanding who she is (following Ronal's advice and remember what Tsahìk Omaticaya said), she is much more capable of taking action. She’s no longer confused. So yeah, the action on the ship feels repetitive if you just look at the pattern. But for me, what changed was who was saved, who did the saving, who did the capturing, and who made the decisions. This shift in positioning is what gives the scene its weight.

The Final Showdown and Spiritual Endings

Then, still in the ship area, though the ship is now destroyed, we get another fistfight between Quaritch and Jake Sully. This also feels repetitive, even if the context and location are different. In Avatar 2, if I recall correctly, their fight happened around the ship, near rocks and water. It was the same general zone, but not quite this far. In Avatar 3, the fight takes place in a much more extreme environment: near a pinkish-purple magnetic anomaly zone where metal objects are being pulled in, surrounded by massive fires. So, visually and atmospherically, it’s clearly different, but the conflict pattern: Jake vs. Quaritch, remains a repeat.

Even the ending feels a bit like a replay: the scene at the underwater Tree of Souls. There, the Metkayina and Jake’s family gather once again to connect spiritually. Structurally, it reminds me of the previous film’s conclusion. However, there’s a vital development here: Spider. In the ending of Avatar 3, Spider has a spiritual encounter; he meets spirits, including Grace, Kiri’s mother. To me, this adds a new layer to an ending that previously felt familiar. So even if the form is the same, the meaning has shifted.

Final Thoughts: Repetitive or Refined?

To sum it up, in my humble opinion, this might be what some viewers mean when they say Avatar 3 is repetitive and dry. The problem is, they never really explain which parts are repetitive. I think the examples I’ve mentioned above pretty much represent that "Oh, this feels familiar" feeling many people had. There might be other small or large repetitions I didn't get to discuss. But these are the most glaring ones, and they represent the sentiment quite well. Feel free to add more in the comments if you feel I missed anything.

However, as I said from the start, the repetition isn't just a "copy-paste" job. There is development. There are shifts in roles, context, and character. Personally, I don’t think it’s a big deal. Not at all. I still enjoyed the movie, not just because the visuals are getting even cooler, but because of the story. The conflict in Avatar 2 and 3 is clear: it’s about oligarchy, exploitation, ecology, and conservation. It’s about how greed can destroy Pandora’s ecosystem and the lives of the Na’vi. And from what I see, the Na’vi remain consistently portrayed as beings spiritually connected to Eywa. There’s nothing about that that feels "off" to me.

Looking Ahead: The Future Pandora in Avatar 4 & 5

Regarding the ending of Avatar 3, I happened to read on the BBC that James Cameron has already prepared Avatar 4 and 5. Looking at the final scenes of Avatar 3, this makes perfect sense. Varang escapes. Quaritch throws himself into a sea of fire. It’s a total cliffhanger. Is he dead? We don’t know for sure, but chances are, he’s still alive.

My assumption is that since Varang is the leader of the Fire and Ash clan, she can survive that environment and likely rescues Quaritch from the flames. If that happens, Quaritch might truly join the Mangkwan clan. In the next chapter, the conflict could shift into "Na’vi vs. Na’vi": the Eywa-centered clans versus the rebel clans.

As for the Sky People, logically, they’re almost wiped out. Scoresby is definitely dead, dragged to the depths by Ta’nok. That RDA ship sucked into the purple magnetic anomaly? It’s nearly impossible for anyone to have survived that. Ardmore ordered everyone to abandon ship, but it was too late. Metal gets sucked in, fire erupts: logically, it’s game over for them. So, there’s a high probability that the main villain in the next Avatar won’t be the Sky People, but an internal conflict within the Na’vi, with Quaritch right in the middle, still nursing his grudge against Jake Sully and his obsession with taking Spider. But again, that’s just my theory. It’s fun to play around with these "what-if" scenarios, right? Haha, don't take me too seriously!

Scoring: Missing the Beat?

Regarding the music, many people pointed out that the scoring in Avatar 3 didn’t stand out or felt a bit underwhelming compared to the first film. But personally, I find myself asking: what exactly are they expecting? If you want the music to be that dominant and over-the-top, then it shouldn't be in a movie: it should be on a concert stage. In my view, the score actually feels more subtle and atmospheric this time around. Instead of trying to be loud or overly epic, it focuses on making Pandora feel 'alive' and immersive. It blends seamlessly with the visuals, creating a more refined experience for those who actually pay attention to the mood. It might not be 'in your face,' but it hits the right notes by prioritizing the emotional depth of the story over pure spectacle.

More Than Just Visuals

So yeah, for me, Avatar 3 isn’t just about repetition. It’s packed with deep issues: divided visions, greed, colonialism, internal conflict, and the big question of who the "enemy" really is. It’s not just about the grand visuals too: it’s about the density of both explicit and implicit meanings.

James Cameron’s project is incredibly imaginative. The world of Pandora is extraordinary: fantastic, detailed, and visually insane. That goes without saying. But what’s important is that he doesn't abandon a strong, value-driven plot. The issues raised are very close to real life: things we can actually feel and see in our own world. In my opinion, you can't judge a movie like this just by its surface. You have to pay attention to the little things: why a character acts a certain way, or why the story moves in a specific direction.

For example, IMHO, why is the Metkayina clan still so prominent in Avatar 3? What did people expect? A total jump to the Fire and Ash clan immediately? To me, it wouldn't be realistic to expect the story to switch drastically like that. It’s possible that Avatar 3 serves as an "introductory phase" for Varang and her people, which will be explored much deeper in Avatar 4. The story is being set up slowly.

Even the continued presence of the Metkayina makes sense. James Cameron focuses on character and moment development. He doesn't want to rush. Why stay in the ocean for a while? Because it’s still closely tied to the Tulkun and the theme of human greed exploiting living beings for profit. Plus, emotionally, Neteyam has just passed away. Neytiri and her family are still grieving. Narratively and emotionally, it makes sense that they haven't "let go" of that phase yet.

I believe there's a specific reason why Cameron makes the story feel like it’s "not moving fast." In reality, it is moving, but with a pace that is intentionally slowed down so we can observe the process of development, both in the characters and the conflict. Professional critics can demand 'poetic' or 'complex' scripts all they want, but for me, the real complexity of Avatar lies in how it breathes life into an entire world while tackling real-life issues we face today. Demanding absolute perfection from a masterpiece that took such an incredible amount of effort feels a bit much. At the end of the day, creators like James Cameron have their own vision and mission. If every filmmaker had to follow those strict, so-called 'sophisticated' standards just to satisfy a critic's ego, they’d lose their identity. We don’t need every movie to have a convoluted plot or overly poetic dialogue. What Cameron delivers is a perfect balance—a powerful message wrapped in groundbreaking technology. To call it 'basic' is to miss the point entirely. Sometimes, the most profound truths are told through simplicity, and that’s exactly where the true strength of Avatar lies.

***

In short, when judging a film, don't just look at the cover. Look at the practical and theoretical values within. Especially for a film like Avatar, which is complex and layered with meaning. Even animated films like Zootopia 1 and 2 have high value and shouldn't be dismissed lightly. Avatar is on another level of complexity in terms of themes and storytelling.

That’s all from me for now. In the future, I want to write a blog post discussing Avatar 1, 2, and 3 as a whole. I also want to cover Zootopia 2, as I’m a big fan and want to share my perspective on it. 

Thank you, see you!

 

Avatar "The Fire and Ash": Is it really DRY? [PART 1]

Source: Pinterest

When Avatar 3 premiered in theaters, I didn’t go to see it right away. I’ve always been the type of person who, if there’s a movie, I think I’ll love or something I’ve just discovered, I never watch it on opening day. I usually wait a few days, or a week even two before finally heading to the cinema: just to give it a little breathing room.

During that waiting period, I saw several posts and comments on social media, saying that Avatar 3 was boring. Their reasons were that it felt repetitive, focused too much on the water clan (Metkayina), didn’t highlight the "Fire and Ash" clan enough, and had an underwhelming score. Regarding the visuals, almost everyone agreed they were top-tier. Some even said they were better than before, though in my opinion, Avatar has always been strong in that department from the start. It just seems like many felt this one took it even further. After finally watching it myself, I began to understand. I could see which parts people meant when they called it repetitive or "dry."

Just a quick disclaimer: my writing here is more about how many things most people considered "really bad," but to me, they weren't actually that terrible. In fact, there were certain things that people rarely mentioned but I found quite distracting, at least in my version of "annoying." Even this is not a debate page, but yes it will be a bit argumentative 😆 Well, I just want to look at Avatar 3 from my own perspective as a fan of fantasy and sci-fi, especially since Avatar is on my favorites list. But just because I’m a fan doesn’t mean I’m blind to its flaws. There are parts that I found odd. Not enough to make me dislike the movie, but there were moments or scenes that just felt a bit "off." To keep things simple, I’ll refer to the movies as Avatar 1, Avatar 2, and Avatar 3.

After watching it twice, first in 3D and then in 2D, I can say: yes, the visuals are indeed stunning. If people say the difference is massive compared to the previous film, I wouldn’t go that far. But it definitely feels more refined. It still emphasizes extraordinary visuals, especially in terms of color, lighting, and the way Pandora "lives" on screen. There’s a subtle but consistent visual quality that makes it a joy to watch. Regarding the repetitiveness, yes, I did feel it in some parts. But it’s not like a "copy-paste" job. It’s more that the plot beats are similar or follow a similar pattern. Even so, there are still differences, or what I would call "developments," in the storyline.

For example, there are new characters, character growth for existing ones, or different emotional moments. So, while it feels repetitive, it’s not entirely stagnant. For me personally, that repetitive feeling started to kick in after the Mangkwan clan (Fire and Ash) attacked the Tlalil clan (Windtraders). The chaotic ending in the sky involves the Tlalil’s airship crashing, Neytiri getting hit by Varang’s arrow and falling, and Jake Sully and the kids falling as well. The whole family ends up scattered in the forest. When the children gather and witness Varang and her people oppressing the Tlalil clan, that’s when I started feeling a sense of familiarity, like something I’d seen before in Avatar 2. Jake Sully also loses, but he manages to get down to the forest and starts searching for his children and Neytiri. Meanwhile, the kids are scattered throughout the woods.

In Avatar 2, the four children, Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk, and Spider, were playing in the forest. They then encountered fake Na’vi from the RDA ship along with the Na’vi carrying Colonel Quaritch's memories and appearance, at the site of his death in Avatar 1, complete with his human remains and skull inside an RDA robot. The kids were caught peeking and Quaritch began chasing them with his team. In the third Avatar, the pattern feels similar, but the context is different. This time, they aren't just bumping into an enemy; they are spying on the Mangkwan situation, which is chaotic and happening right in front of them in the same forest. On the other hand, Quaritch manages to capture Jake Sully. But eventually, Quaritch has to "join" or is forced to cooperate because they have one common goal: saving Spider. So, the position is somewhat reversed and more complex. The four kids are being hunted, but this time it’s not the RDA, it’s the Mangkwan clan. In Avatar 2, the pursuers were Quaritch and the RDA team. In Avatar 3, it's another Na’vi clan, the Mangkwan. That’s one significant shift. Then, another development happens with the characters. The relationship between Jake Sully and Quaritch begins to move into a gray area. For the first time, even if only briefly and by force, they unite for the same purpose.

The Evolution of Lo’ak and the "Boomer" Conflict

Then there’s another part that felt repetitive to me, yet interesting because of the growth in both the moments and the characters. In Avatar 3, there’s a scene where the Metkayina clan leaders hold a meeting with the Tulkun elders to discuss Payakan’s exile. During this, Lo’ak, Tsireya and her siblings, also Spider, and Kiri, all rebel. But Lo’ak is the most expressive and emotional. Right after that, Jake Sully pulls him away, basically telling him to shut up, stay out of trouble, and not make things worse.

This moment reminded me so much of Avatar 2. Back then, there was a scene where Kiri was lying on the shore, just enjoying the sand and the view. A group of Metkayina teens, including the leader’s kids, Aonung and Rotxo, came by. They teased Kiri, calling her "weird," and Lo’ak stepped in bravely to defend her. Neteyam eventually arrived to de-escalate things because, after all, the Omaticaya were newcomers and guests there. But as they turned to leave, Aonung (or Rotxo, I forget which) kept mocking them. Lo’ak lost his temper, went back, and punched him.

That led to a sort of "unofficial trial": a gathering to scold Lo’ak. His position was the same: he was seen as a troublemaker. He defended himself by saying he only fought because Kiri was being harassed. Again, Jake Sully pulled Lo’ak inside, lectured him, and essentially blamed him. The pattern is very similar. However, at the end of that moment in Avatar 2, there’s a small but vital difference. Jake asks, "Did the other guy look worse?" and Lo’ak answers proudly, "Yeah." Lo’ak felt acknowledged, even if Jake didn't explicitly show his pride and just held back his expression.

Now, in Avatar 3, this similar moment evolves into something much more emotional. After Jake pulls him away again, Lo’ak fights back. He refuses to just accept the blame. He finally finds his voice: asking why his father never truly listens to him, why he’s always the one accused, and why his brother’s death feels like a burden of guilt placed on his shoulders for the rest of his life. Lo’ak even pushes Jake in the chest here, something he never did in Avatar 2, where he was always silent and "obedient." To me, this felt like a minor repetition of the previous pattern, but with clear character development. In Avatar 2, Lo’ak was quiet. In Avatar 3, he speaks up louder. He wants to be heard and understood.

Notes: There might be many other small or large repetitions that I missed, I don’t have them all memorized, but these are the ones that really stuck in my head. At least I'm sharing my version of how it felt. Now, let’s jump to the next part.

Toruk Makto and the Strategy of War

Next, let's talk about Jake Sully as Toruk Makto. In Avatar 1, he wins over the Toruk by finding its cave; only the "chosen one" can control the Toruk, and Jake succeeds. He rides the Toruk to the Omaticaya clan to be accepted back since he no longer shares the RDA's mission. In Avatar 2, he doesn't focus much on being Toruk Makto, but in Avatar 3, he stops denying that identity, despite the psychological burden of losing Neteyam. Eventually, he returns to the Toruk’s cave and truly embraces his role. This pattern exists across all three films. Similarly, the way Jake gives a speech and rallies the Na’vi to fight follows a familiar pattern.

Then there’s the battle preparation scene. The Na’vi clans that have been "invited" to war gather, clinging to rocks or hiding in the forest, ready to strike the Sky People’s ships. This is also very similar to Avatar 2. But for me, this isn’t a big deal. In terms of war logic, that’s just how it’s done. How else are you going to gather the Na’vi and prepare for battle?

The big difference, however, comes when the attack starts. In Avatar 2, when the attack begins, the Na’vi charge immediately. They hide, take their positions, fly in, and when they are nearly defeated, Eywa intervenes by sending land animals to help. In Avatar 3, the sequence changes. The Tulkun finally listen to Payakan and Lo’ak, and they are the ones who strike first. The Tulkun destroy the Sky People's ships right from the start. From my perspective, this "lightens" the load for the Na’vi. They aren't starting from a position of weakness anymore; they are just following through and finishing the job.

As a side note, Tsireya and her siblings also experience character growth—moving from being quiet and "obedient" to bravely speaking up for the truth. Honestly, I had a little chuckle here; it felt like watching Boomer parents arguing with late Millennials or Gen Z in a real-world family setting. It’s repetitive in pattern, but there’s a clear evolution in strategy and the roles of other creatures.

The Presence of Eywa

It doesn't end there. There is another major development. In Avatar 1, Eywa’s presence is direct, massive, and confrontational. Jake Sully explicitly prays to Eywa at the Tree of Souls. At that point, Jake acts as a bridge between humans and Pandora, asking Eywa to "see" the destruction brought by humans and consider the fate of the Na’vi. Eywa’s answer is physical: the Angtsìk charging from the land, the Palulukan, an apex predator that even lets Neytiri ride it, and the Ikrans filling the sky. Land, air, and the entire ecosystem move as one. This is the moment Eywa chooses to intervene directly.

In contrast, in Avatar 2 and 3, Eywa’s presence undergoes a significant shift: it’s more subtle, passive, and reflective. She was a bit slow, as if there was no answer, but finally, it appeared. Eywa appears through sea creatures, specifically the bioluminescent squid-like entities connected to the Spirit Tree of the Metkayina, and by moving the hearts of the Tulkun elders. This presence isn't for war, but for connecting memory, consciousness, and spirituality.

** Let's go to the PART 2 !!!

DISAPPOINTED (Piano & Flute) - Realized the Reality

April 9, 2021: Continuation of the Work Heartstrings

I am back creating another "spontaneous" music piece, meaning the melody in my head becomes wild when I feel something intense. It bursts! The best way to release this outpouring is through music. This piece represents the disappointment that arises when someone realizes a harsh reality. I recognize this reality is very painful and must be accepted, and then I let it go.

DISAPPOINTED continues the story in Longing, still part of the Heartstrings series. In this piece, the woman stops searching, reminiscing and stops Longing. The reality is apparent in front of her eyes that this really must come to an end; "He is not for you, or rather, he is not yet ready for you!" The fact is that moving on starts from within yourself, not just by waiting for time to pass. Time is only meant to support the internal will. Without the internal will, no time can erase the pain.

The piano, with its repeating bass and supported by "mystical"”-sounding chords, represents the growing pain when confronted with the undeniable truth. The flute represents the woman's thought process, the ongoing struggle between her emotions and logic, trying to find and accept reality. There are moments of Longing and searching occasionally, but not as intense as before.

However, some voices repeatedly speak to the woman: (1) Do what you can do now. Build your integrity "and get even" in all aspects. Do all this for the future. Dreaming is allowed, but when that dream comes true, it depends on the universe. Never dim your colours, and never compare your growth process to others. You just haven't met the one who can accept your colours and realize that you, too, can take theirs. (2) Knowing the truth is painful but better than living in falsehood. We will never know which part needs improvement and what we must do to rise and grow better. This is still hard to do, especially when we feel disappointed. Sometimes we still act selfishly, thinking we are right, without first reflecting on ourselves. Knowing the truth is bitter, but our intention to let go will help us accept it and heal.

This work ends with chromatic notes from the middle octave upward on the piano and flute, followed by the flute holding the final notes, representing the triumph of logic. This leads the woman to a time of rising up or moving on. You deserve better, the "getting even" begins.

---

The composer's work is subjective. However, the composer does not limit listeners' and music lovers' interpretation of each of her works based on their own subjectivity.

Since this is a spontaneous piece that came straight from the mind and heart, creating the sheet music in standard notation is still in process. Thank you for witnessing my work. I also thank you for supporting my colleagues and me in sharing stories through my music. Regardless of whether it fits the musical tastes of the listeners or the general public in this country, I only wish to be honest in my music. The only medium that allows me to be more truthful is music.

Thank you for listening and engaging with my simple work!

 

Sola Fide

LONGING (Piano Solo) - The Unfinished Feeling

 

March 31, 2021: Continuation of the Work Heartstrings

LONGING tells the story of a woman's longing for a man who once entered and brightened her life after being struck by a painful experience of love in the past. Unfortunately, with this man, the story she hoped for ended as expected, with many things she learned that caused her to grow and change for the better over time. Yet, some things they both had gone through and agreed upon still ended in disappointment.

The separation was not a final one for the woman. Over time, she explained through her writing strength that she felt things were still unresolved. She did not deny that her story with this man had its beautiful moments, especially as they were together through difficult times, even in the face of distance between them. She also acknowledged how meaningful their meetings were from the beginning and their daily journey—observing and trying to understand. But unfortunately, it seemed that the man still did not consider this woman "different."

Months after the separation, she kept searching and felt a loss, although she was sure that the man did not feel the same way. Because, in truth, he did not acknowledge her existence. She continued to feel the turmoil between longing and heartbreak, trying to remember the man's flaws, which she had kept for a long time (and also tried to forgive), and finally released at a particular moment, hoping to end the constant searching. Yet, longing and heartbreak remained daily, even clinging to each step she took.

The notes in this melody flowed naturally when she reached the peak of the longing that had been enveloping her life for months. The theme of the work appears at the beginning, which will be repeated twice with ornament changes; this part represents the woman, who, when feeling great longing, would fall silent, reflect, and then shed tears. At that moment, she always prayed, hoping the feeling would soon fade away.

After each repetition of the theme, the following notes represent how the woman, in her longing, reminisces about various moments spent with the man. There were many things, even though it had not been years, and she could only feel this feeling. She wonders whether the man still feels the same way. This includes their first meeting, which became a beautiful moment that the woman repeatedly reminisced about. In the final section, the diminished chords with arpeggio touches represent how the woman recalls, in her longing reverie, her last complicated experience with the man. So complicated. Until it eventually ended.

The G chord at the closing of this work does not express longing or an unresolved feeling. However, upon closer listening, the touch of Major 7 and the repetition three times in the middle and upper octaves represent something left unfinished (suspended), and this is what the woman continues to feel every day. However, the woman can do no more to overcome this longing, the yearning, and the heartbreak that arises together. For her, it is enough to move on and accept. Enough. Sometimes, she hopes to meet again, but simultaneously (repeatedly), she truly wishes for those feelings to die. Even as soon as possible.

---

This work is subjective to the composer. However, the composer does not limit listeners and music lovers from interpreting each of her works based on their subjectivity.

Since this is a spontaneous work that emerged from the mind and heart, the creation of the sheet music is still in progress. Thank you for witnessing my work. Also, thank you for supporting my colleagues and me in sharing stories through my music. Whether it fits the musical taste of listeners or the general public in this country, I only want to be honest in my music. The only medium that allows me to be more truthful is music and writing.

Thank you for listening and engaging with my simple work!

Sola Fide

HEARTSTRINGS (Piano Trio): "When your heart makes a decision."

 

My First Musical Work (RENEW 2021)

This piece was composed in 2013 as part of the final project for the Basic Music Composition course during my studies at Tanjungpura University Pontianak, where I majored in Art Education with a concentration in Music. Mr. Diecky Kurniawan Indrapraja, S. Sn., M. Pd, taught the Basic Music Composition and Advanced Music Composition courses then.

This course sparked my interest, especially considering my journey in Music since elementary school when I was always a player. I had never composed music, only playing or arranging simple pieces for specific works. Additionally, my trust issues since childhood led me to prefer "making music in silence."

The PIANO TRIO concept for this work originated from my admiration for female composers of the Romantic period, especially Clara Schumann, the wife of Robert Schumann. I once thought there were no female composers in earlier periods, but I was surprised by Clara Schumann and Fanny Mendelssohn (Felix Mendelssohn's sister). I immediately began listening to Clara's works, and the one that truly resonated with me was Piano Trio Op. 17. Among the four movements of this Piano Trio, the 3rd movement, Andante, was the one that deeply moved me, and I would lose myself every time I listened to it. For me, the concept of the Piano Trio teaches that playing music with more than one instrument, say, adding two instruments, can create music full of colour when arranged properly. Many of us in music still think that "the more instruments, the better the harmonization." While using many instruments is not wrong, the key lies in the execution.

HEARTSTRINGS, which means the heart and soul, use the moment of the Basic Music Composition course as an opportunity to tell a personal story through this musical work. It is about how I faced many challenges but had to choose and make the best decision. This piece is subjective, but listeners and music enthusiasts can freely interpret it.

Section A

The Gadd9 chord with a 1/16 note pattern played four times in Andante tempo is the opening of a life journey. The cello's entry represents the arrival of one thing (the beginning of a "problem" that will emerge later), followed by other elements with the violin's entry. The cello melody serves this piece's theme, while the violin develops the theme with ornamental variations. The section in Em represents the light turbulence when faced with several choices.

Section B

The modulation to Dm represents a more intense turmoil. The more one contemplates, the more confused one becomes in choosing and deciding. The emotions in this section lean towards frustration, fear, mild anger, and eventually tears. The Edim and Asus4-A7 chords in the piano, cello, and violin, each with different patterns, signal an overwhelming inner turmoil that eventually erupts.

Section C

Returning to G Major, the three instruments play the theme more gently. This section represents a state of stillness and reflection, seeking guidance from the universe to make the best decision and solidify that choice.

Section D

The modulation to A Major symbolizes freedom or independence. After all the emotional turmoil of the past, a decision is finally made, which is the best. The violin with sustained, long melodies represents freedom, the cello with 1/8 note melodies represents happiness, and the piano with a lower octave bass and arpeggios in the middle and upper octaves aims to enliven the sense of freedom and happiness. The pizzicato at the end of the piece represents the case's resolution.

The first performers for this work were Yhadie Anugerah on the cello, Galih Bismara on the violin, and I on the piano. Yhadie and Galih were seniors when I was still studying. Due to my hometown's lack of classical violin and cello players, this piece was only performed first and once at the Ikan Mas (Ikatan Mahasiswa Seni) Concert as part of my semester final exam. Then, in 2021, I revisited this work by utilizing a DAW for the time being. I hope that there are classical musicians in this city who are willing to perform my first composition.

Thank you for listening to my very simple first work and for your support. I hope each of my musical works will bless all of you.

Sola Fide

A Heartfelt Take on "It's Okay to Not Be Okay" K-Drama

Source: google

How do I feel about this K-drama? SUPERB! In all my years of watching K-dramas (the more realistic ones, not the overly dramatic ones), this is the first time I truly felt love and awe. As an analytical and deep thinker, I find absorbing the story and music straightforward. The message, even the emotions, are conveyed to me quite effectively. Here's a brief review of the hugely popular K-drama from 2020, following  The World of the Married hype. It's concise and to the point, starting with the three main characters.

Moon Gang-Tae: Patient, intelligent, charismatic. He appears calm and always smiling, but underneath, he hides a deep sadness that has been with him since childhood. He longed for the same treatment from his mother that his older brother received, but that hope was shattered.

Moon Sang-Tae: Gang-Tae's older brother, with special needs, has a photographic memory and can paint and draw. He can also sense the emotions and feelings of others. He harbours a deep trauma with butterflies, as they remind him of the person who killed their mother when they were both children.

Ko Mun-Yeong: The only daughter of a wealthy family, her father is an architecture professor, and her mother is a famous mystery novelist. She has an antisocial personality disorder, having been treated like a princess and moulded by her mother to be just like her. As an adult, she follows in her mother's footsteps and becomes a successful children's book author, but she becomes increasingly reclusive and expressionless and maintains a luxurious appearance to hide her fragile and complicated inner self. She is also a kleptomaniac, stealing things that captivate her and then keeping them.

Related to their characters and life stories, it aligns perfectly with the director's opinion at the psychiatric hospital where Gang-Tae works: "It's because we are weak that we unite." And they did it very well! There are so many moral lessons from episodes 1-16 Mun Yeong's fairy tale illustrations are excellent. They're a bit eerie, but that's very much in line with her character, and they reflect the essence of the fairy tale, which tells the story of her life from childhood to adulthood.

One moral message that stood out in this drama is: "What's on the outside doesn't always reflect what's on the inside. What appears outside is there to protect what's on the inside." To understand others, we must genuinely examine them. When dealing with someone who has deep trauma, we need to be patient. Everything requires wisdom and understanding. Everything needs to start with self-reflection, and always remember the statement, "No one is perfect."

I really appreciate this Korean Drama. It's very educational about human life and psychology. I love it! Give it a try; you won't regret it!

Sola Fide

Hard Work Pays Off: Seong-Jin Cho’s Journey of Dedication and Excellence

source: google

"South Korean pianist Seong-Jin Cho made history by winning the 1st prize at the XVII Chopin International Piano Competition in 2015, held in Warsaw, Poland. His monumental achievement quickly captured global attention, particularly in the classical music scene. Seong-Jin Cho became the first South Korean pianist to claim the top spot in this prestigious competition. Before him, in 2005, Dong Hyek Lim, also from South Korea, had placed third." 

For those who love classical music and have a soft spot for handsome Korean guys, it's hard not to be impressed by this young pianist born in 1994, especially after watching his breathtaking stage performances. So, what comes to mind when you read about this amazing accomplishment? The apparent answer: Seong-Jin Cho is a genius. But let's pause for a moment: does sheer genius explain his worldwide success? Have you ever wondered how this handsome prodigy prepared for his dream competition, building the path that led him to the top?  

The "10-year rule" has been around since 1899, introduced in a paper published by Psychological Review. Renowned psychologist Professor William Chase and his colleague Herbert Simon conducted extensive research on world-class experts who spent 10 years or more honing their craft before achieving greatness. This research popularized the term; later, Malcolm Gladwell revived it in his book Outliers. He argued that high achievers typically practice for about 1,000 hours yearly, accumulating 10,000 hours over a decade before their accomplishments are recognized globally. Bill Gates, for example, spent 10,000 hours writing software before receiving an offer from IBM to develop an operating system. Gladwell rebranded the "10-year rule" into the "10,000-Hour Rule." Additionally, "deliberate practice" was also introduced by psychologist K. Anders Ericsson in the early 1990s. Ericsson defined deliberate practice as a highly focused, structured, and purposeful practice, distinct from mere repetition. Unlike casual practice, deliberate practice involves challenging activities that are just beyond the current skill level of the individual, accompanied by immediate feedback and constant efforts to improve. According to Ericsson, this method is essential for achieving mastery in any field, whether in music, sports, or other areas of expertise. His research suggests that deliberate and consistent practice over time is the key to reaching the highest performance levels rather than innate talent alone. 

While the terminology differs slightly between Chase-Simon's, Gladwell's, and Anders' research and interpretation, one thing is clear: achieving world-class excellence takes time and dedication! The journey involves much more than practice—it's about structured preparation, the proper support, and the unwavering motivation to push forward. Support from loved ones, especially family, can be a powerful motivator, fueling the positive energy needed throughout the process—even it's the most important. 

Think of the genius Mozart, personally trained by his father for years to become a world-renowned composer. Similarly, James Mill mentored his son for years too, John Stuart Mill, to become a philosopher whose name stands alongside greats like John Locke and Immanuel Kant. There are countless stories of world-class experts who achieved fame, but only some are familiar with the intricate background that shaped their success. Seong-Jin Cho's journey to becoming a world-class pianist parallels the legacies of such historical figures. His decade-long effort to claim the top spot in a global competition was unsuccessful. 

In an interview on the Chopin Institute's YouTube channel and several sources, Seong-Jin Cho discussed his success at the competition. He recalled how, at six, his parents suggested he learn to play the piano. At first, music was simply a hobby for him. This early support from his parents significantly shaped his journey—Cho wasn't forced into piano lessons but embraced them with enthusiasm. His dream of participating in the Chopin International Piano Competition began at 11, but he decided to commit a decade later. Seong-Jin Cho honed his talents during those ten years through careful and structured practice. His progress was also marked by solid feedback from his performances in various competitions, including first prizes at the 2008 International Fryderyk Chopin Competition for Young Pianists and the 2009 Hamamatsu International Piano Competition, as well as third-place finishes at the 2011 International Tchaikovsky Competition and the 2014 Arthur Rubinstein International Piano Master Competition. These accolades demonstrated the fruits of his hard work and preparation. By 2015, ten years had passed, and Seong-Jin Cho was ready to face his dream competition. His performances, which can be found online, showcase the incredible skill with which he performed Chopin's masterpieces, a tribute to the pianist and the composer from the Romantic era. His remarkable progress through the competition led to his crowning as the 1st prize winner of the XVII Chopin International Piano Competition in Warsaw, Poland.

It's certainly easy to admire someone for their success and brilliance. But it's essential to go beyond the surface and understand the long, challenging journey behind such achievements. Many people still hold the misguided belief that talent and genius are innate gifts that fall from the sky and are only accessible to a select few. Some still think that talent is inherited, so if the older generation lacks musical ability, the younger generation will. Such misconceptions undermine the true power of hard work.

"Even if someone is born with gifts, such as intelligence or genius, hard work and motivation are the keys to success." 

A gift is merely a raw potential, capable of fading away if not diligently cultivated. The world's most renowned experts, from scientists to artists, have all undergone long and intricate journeys, marked by years of dedication and relentless effort, to make groundbreaking contributions that continue to influence our understanding today. Seong-Jin Cho's path exemplifies this truth—his exceptional talent, years of structured practice, and unyielding motivation led him to achieve his dream of becoming a world-class pianist. His journey reminds us that even natural brilliance requires hard work and perseverance to shine and leave a lasting impact.

Sola Fide