A new conductor takes the stage, but instead of applause, she’s greeted with suspicion and manipulation. Our titular maestra has a lot of work to do to prove herself to the skeptics and conquer her personal demons — not to mention win against an old foe — but she certainly isn’t going to bow out quietly.
EPISODES 1-2
Maestra: Strings of Truth uses these first two episodes to set the stage, introducing us to its major players and teasing at their relationships — past, present, and potential. First, of course, is the maestra herself: internationally infamous orchestra conductor CHA SE-EUM (Lee Young-ae), who has just returned to Korea for the first time in three years. She’s being handed the reins to the struggling Han River Philharmonic Orchestra, and it’s no secret that most of the musicians would prefer someone else.
Some say her success is all marketing, no talent. Others whisper that she once shot a gun at one of her own musicians (the noir-esque opening sequence appears to support this rumor: she tracked down her concertmaster and pointed a gun in his face — seemingly the only thing that persuaded him to play that night).
When Se-eum shows up a day early to greet her new orchestra, they try to catch her off-guard with a rousing performance of the Mission Impossible theme. But Se-eum stops them a few bars in to give rapid-fire corrections, calling people out by name and pointing to exact measures even before she gets a copy of the sheet music.
If any of the musicians were impressed, however, that’s shattered the next day when she demotes the concertmaster, PARK JAE-MAN (Lee Jung-yeol). Not only is Jae-man well-respected and Se-eum’s own former violin instructor, but he’s less than a year out from retirement. But he’s got a weak fourth finger, and Se-eum mercilessly swaps him out for up-and-comer LEE RU-NA (Hwang Boreumbyeol). Jae-man quits rather than take a lower seat, and the others follow him out.
Se-eum may be coldly professional on the job, but she does soften around her family. Upon reuniting with her husband, KIM PIL (Kim Young-jae) — who remained in Korea while she was conducting abroad — she’s all smiles and quickly falls asleep to the sound of his piano playing.
Likewise, her reunion with her father, violin maker CHA KI-BAEK (Jung Dong-hwan), is full of affection. Though it also clues us in that something terrible happened between Se-eum and her mother, who now resides in a nursing home. We get flashes of a traumatic, violent event, and Ki-baek expresses understanding when Se-eum says she isn’t ready to see her yet.
Following the walkout, less than half of the orchestra shows up to practice. Then they gather outside of normal hours and lock the door so neither Se-eum nor Ru-na can join them. Se-eum, undeterred, smashes the glass door and walks right in. Again, she fires out corrections and has them start over. “If you want to fight me, do it through music,” she tells them, and this time no one leaves.
In the middle of the song, a man strolls into the room and attempts to catch Se-eum’s eye. When that fails, he trips the fire alarm. Now he has everyone’s attention, but Se-eum responds to his familiar greeting with a blunt, “Who are you?” and “Please leave.”
As we gradually learn, this is YOO JUNG-JAE (Lee Moo-saeng). He once saved Se-eum from drowning (self-inflicted, it’s implied), and they dated for three years. But Se-eum called it off when she discovered he’d been trying to sabotage her efforts to study music. In his mind, him saving her life means she quite literally belongs to him, and he wants her undivided attention. Yikes. He’s irked that she’s pretending they’ve never met, and resolves to “try harder” to make her acknowledge him. Double yikes — but we’ll come back to that.
Word of Jung-jae’s stunt gets around, alarming Pil, who doesn’t seem to have known about Jung-jae and Se-eum’s prior relationship. He asks a few tentative questions of Se-eum, but doesn’t press. But he’s also harboring secrets of his own, so it’s unclear what, specifically, unsettles him about Jung-jae.
Meanwhile, Se-eum gets to work pulling her orchestra back together. First, she has a tough-love talk with Ru-na. She knows Ru-na was selected in a blind skills evaluation (Se-eum makes it unmistakably clear that she values talent over all else), and she also knows that Ru-na left the door open while practicing because she intended for Se-eum to overhear. Now, Se-eum tells Ru-na that if she can’t muster the boldness to seize the concertmaster position despite the others’ derision, she may as well quit altogether.
Then Se-eum asks Jae-man to come back — she wants him to mentor Ru-na and raise up another excellent concertmaster like himself. Jae-man does, finally tipping the balance and convincing (most of) the others to give Se-eum a chance.
Enter Jung-jae with an infuriating announcement: their music is boring and their concert is canceled. And yes, as the new owner of the Han River Philharmonic, he has the power to make it so. In private, he gives Se-eum an ultimatum: either the orchestra never plays again, or she divorces her husband and gets back together with him. Triple yikes.
At this point, I’m thinking Pil has the right idea when he suggests they move back to the States and forget about all this drama. But Se-eum isn’t backing down without a fight. She rallies the orchestra to play an impromptu outdoor concert, and afterwards Jung-jae begrudgingly concedes that she’s won this round. But that’s when an anonymous text message summons Se-eum to a stairwell… where Pil is intimately engaged in the arms of another woman. And who’s there to swoop in and offer sympathy? Jung-jae.
I have to hand it to Maestra — I started out thinking Se-eum was too cold and ruthless to be likeable, but by the end of the second episode, I was fully in her corner. Between her cutthroat profession, passion for her craft, and multiple personal relationships having taken disastrous turns, that ruthlessness starts to look more like a necessary survival tactic than a flaw. And I have a feeling she’s going to need every ounce of it in the coming power struggle against Jung-jae.
Overall, I found these first episodes a tad on the slow side, but with an underlying tension that builds steadily throughout. And now that we have the setup out of the way, I look forward to seeing where we go from here. I foresee plenty of dark, twisty mental and emotional warfare, but — if that scene between Ru-na and her new mentor, Jae-man, is any indication — also some room for heartwarming character growth.