Mirrors
Mirrors
Mirrors
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TORU TAKEMITSU
*From Mirror of Trees, Mirror of Grass, by Toru Takemitsu (Tokyo: Shincho Sha,
1975). The essay was written in 1974.
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As I walk in a grove of naked trees that stand against the sky like thorns,
in Shinshu (where it is still cold)' and stare at the dark surface of the earth
on the slope of a volcano partially covered here and there with remnants of
snow, its peak hidden under gray-orange smoke, I feel mankind (which has
developed the consciousness by means of which it can stand face-to-face
with the universe itself as an intelligent existence) is within a vast, invisible
system after all, that it is not possible to live even a moment outside the
laws of the universe.
Man as an organism has been through the infinite steps of evolution. But
where is he heading?
About eight years ago, I climbed the Kilauea volcano on the island of
Hawaii. I looked out on the scenery absentmindedly through the
I looked out over oblong window of a lodge facing the crater with
the enormous crater my family, friends and several other guests. All we
and my could see beneath the window at sunset was an
consciousness enormous crater only dimly visible through the
was caught vapor. When the cinnabar sun disappeared at the
by something lrger edge of the gray, dense, and felt-like clouds, and
than consciousness ' i
darkness settled, the crater
darker. This occurred because groun
up, had begun to twinkle like stars at t
Whose work was this? This giant crat
seemed to rebuff our imagination,
absolute power that rejected any descr
about that time and space controlled b
my consciousness as a person did not f
moved by an indescribable force. It is
did not work just then, but rather th
than consciousness. I was directing m
coming from beyond consciousness.
might have seen something too, then,
At that moment, John Cage, a compo
called to me and said, "Nonsense!" with
"bakarashii"2 with a sing-song voic
probably accepted his word meekly.
That's right. This is foolish. What th
a big hole, a void in the earth's surface
expressions on our faces, who are str
too, is strange. But the people there, i
take Cage's words in a negative sense
silent drama. He only provided a sligh
vo; (e V
'~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~1~
Towards the end of last year until the New Year,3 I traveled in
Indonesia with a French study group. It was the night that we went to
hear a performance of gamelan4 in a little village Listeningprobably
about forty kilometers northwest of Denpassar, in means changing into
the center of Bali. In the garden of the temple, sound itself by
several groups were playing here and there all at existing
once, while palm oil burned. The crowd kept within it.
dancing while it sang. Smothering in a unique perfume, I soaked myself in
the sounds that came to me. It was difficult to listen there. I could not
influence the music to be played by a particular group; I stayed outside the
sound. Listening is, needless to say, important. But do we not tend to give
meaning to this act within the realms of memory and knowledge? In the
true sense, listening should be an act beyond these realms. Listening
probably means changing into sound itself by existing within it.
The French musicians were lost in the exotic sounds of the gamelan. To
their sensibilities, these were sounds coming from an absurd, unknown
territory. And the reaction they showed following their initial surprise was,
"It is a wonderful new resource!" I found myself responding quite differ-
ently from both the native Indonesians and the French musicians. My life
cannot be inseparably in accord with music as is the case with the people of
Bali. And yet, I could not have been attracted to the idea, as the French
musicians were, of incorporating this sound source with such foreign
qualities into the logic of our Japanese musical expression.
Our interpreter, Bernard Wayang, said that a shadow play was going on
in the garden next to the temple.5 So I skirted the dancing people and
passed through a stone gate. The sky felt suddenly close, for the stars
seemed to fall fast and thick like grains of sand in the night's darkness. The
shadow play was performed in a corner of the garden where these signatures
of the night were particularly thick. Strangely, not even a single candle was
lit. In shadow plays, precisely cut out shapes are projected on a screen to
convey religious stories. In fact, none of the other shadow plays I saw later
in various parts of Java failed to use light. I moved very close to the old man
who was giving the performance and fixed my eyes hard upon a screen
made of stretched cloth. To be sure, nothing could be seen. As I went to
his side, he sat down on the ground, picked up one or two shapes from the
many placed in front of his crossed legs, and held them against the screen,
muttering his tale. I asked Wayang, the interpreter, why and for whom this
old man was performing. By way of Wayang, the puppeteer responded that
he was conversing with the universe through the light of the stars for
himself and also for many other souls. He appeared to have said, as well,
that something was returned to this world from the universe during the
performance. Perhaps this performance, too, could have been thought of as
foolishness. But, at the time, I felt that something was coming from
ve ...r
m.. ji Eh [L^*fTi?,W. L. __
VI ~ ~ lvI&/
The influence that the Baroque style of architecture had upon music or
The influence that the Baroque style of architecture had upon music or
the birth of the unique Gothic style of the Notre Dame School which came
with the completion of the Notre Dame Cathedral-such vivid, imaginative
interactions between the art of music and gathering places are almost dead
at present.
8;wJ
/411%r? '- % ft pi.-
t
?
places, and inner scenes. A mode is a road along which a man may walk,
and it is never-ending. An infinite number of Whenyou commit
roads, like the veins of a leaf, will join at the end your soul to the
into one cosmic mode. This cosmic mode might care of melodic
be called by the name "God," and its myriad and rhythmic
versions are like the numerous, small fragments of strutures,
a shattered mirror that reflect the figure of this improvaton
"God." becomes possible.
Once, I believed that to make music w
enormous mirror that was called the We
Japanese traditional music, I became aw
another mirror.
Soon, sounds of the collapse of this enorm
my ears, too. As I write this, I feel that my
On the contrary, they are complicated and
to foresee the implications of alternative ch
think of going towards the East if the Wes
To me, this can be called a discovery: the m
on a different scale) is based upon a logic d
the enormous Western mirror. It is my des
powers of auditory imagination by placing
of light arising from the intricate reflectio
[i.e., those resulting from the collapse of th
would like to reassemble them-the enormo
lit with the afterglow of dusk's passing-int
mirror would probably be different from
However, it is beyond my capacity to imag
I have neither the intention of enterin
myself to stagnate. There must be a hidde
common language can touch one ano
order to find the way there, it is ne
examine one's image not only in
various mirrors. For, excluding such
mulations as "East" and "West," one sh
to expose oneself to a flood of refle
point of momentarily losing oneself. Possi
to each individual as small streams; and
merged with others by a great, creative fo
river.21
through human history. One cannot deny, in any event, that the feudal
class system established in the Edo period had great influence upon the
exact characteristics of its music. It was in this period that the concept of
beauty was systematized and took clear form in the conventions of ie, ryu,
and fi-lineage, school, and style-which are the dominant influences in
traditional Japanese music even today.
Gidayu-bushi had begun with imaginative plays featuring exaggerated
postures. Gradually these plays began to represent inner aspects of man
through the excellent work of such dramatists as Chikamatsu
Monzaemon.25 The intonations of jruri acquired refined and delicate
modulations, to which the shamisen added many sentimental adornments.
They, too, had standardized as concrete elements of expression, yet existed
strictly within the context of accompaniment for plays.
In the case of Kabuki, plays performed by live actors, music was used
mainly for dances inserted into the drama. This is traditionalapanese
the reason that expression in nagauta and kiyomoto music reached the
is candid and free of exaggeration when compared height of its
with Gidayu. In any case, the difference of musical expressiveness
characteristics between the Kanto and Kansai in the Edoperiod ...
regions need not be pursued.26 What I am con- [when] even the
cerned with is the fact that traditional Japanese singlesound
.,,,., ~. . r~. ~might be sufjicient.
music reached the height of its expressiveness in
the Edo period. It aimed at a unique mode of expression in which even the
single sound might be sufficient.
After three generations of Tokugawa rulers, in the time of Iemitsu,27 the
classification of musical art had been given definite form by law. This was
accompanied by the gradual establishment of a system which included a
main branch for each family (ie) and its associated schools (ryu) that con-
tinues today.
According to Kikkawa:
One can see from the above quotation that at the beginning of the
Tokugawa period, N6 had a position as an art belonging to the samurai
class; Gagaku music, on the other hand, belonged to the Imperial Court.
Both were specially protected and in a different world from that of music
for the general public.
When you think that the jodai-shinagaku of ancient times (the origin of
court Gagaku) had always been connected to the government and reflected
its policy, the form that Gagaku takes in Japan is the result of a unique
transformation. It is indeed strange that Gagaku remained a closed society
and did not follow the teachings of Confucius, even though it was loved by
many Confucians. The intervention of the samurai government was a
factor, but probably only one of many. In any event, although the govern-
ment did allude to music, music did not tie itself to politics, nor were
politics reflected directly in music.
The political ideology of ancient China was summarized in The Book of
Governance with Propriety30 and emphasis was placed on the practice of
civility. This "civility" had the same meaning as "music"; they were both
recognized as manifestations of one body of ideals. Confucians in our
country often make mistakes and are caught in contradictions, and this,
apparently, is the case not only in Japan but in China as well. As the
Chinese composer Kiang Wen-yeh deplores in his book,31 it seems that one
of the root problems of Japanese traditional music, even today, lies in the
mistaken Confucian interpretation of "civil" not as something practical, in
other words, not as an "art," but rather as moral idea. I intend to evaluate
"the way" (michi) of art as it makes sense to me,32 but this may well be a
different matter.
I happened to use "the way" and would like to quote a short piece
entitled "The Yellow Soil of China and Its Culture" from the aforemen-
tioned book by Kiang Wen-yeh, published in 1943:
As far as the above passage is concerned, the attitude and the feeling of
one Chinese towards "the way" is that it is not a set path but seems to be
born in the human act of walking, marked out freshly every day. It is
related to the individual, therefore to society, and thus closely approaches
the political. The idea that the civil and the musical should be in accord is
fundamentally a practical one.
When one life calls out to another life, sounds are born. Silence
bordered with a necklace of sounds which become When one
When one life
scales. Little by little, the stranded scales are calls out
bundled into a sheath of light, rising into the sky, to another life,
or gushing out, splashing, like the body of a river sounds are born.
finding liberation as it reaches the sea. They fill the universe: enormous,
soundless sounds.34
__r-b_
unceremoniously, before one had time to realize it. I know very little
about the content of the ketchack, but it is unique to Bali, and its name
comes from the fact that it is a shouting and sing- The phrasing of the
ing in onomatopoeic imitation of monkeys. Every- ketchack is
intuitive rather
thing is chanted by human voices, and mystical
than measured,
stories are sung in delicate intonations by a few
and happens
who might be termed the leaders. A crowd of
suddenly with a
several dozen people shouted like monkeys, litheness like
adding certain gestures, occasionally singing as a the leaps
unison chorus (this reminded me, for some rea- of wild animals.
son, of Okinawan music; in fact, I often had the impression that music had
spread to Indonesia from north to south). The phrasing is intuitive rather
than measured, and happens suddenly with a litheness like the leaps of wild
animals. Soon I forgot that the music was sung by human beings and
succumbed to the illusion that I was hearing the sound of the earth itself.
Under such conditions, in such a space, one might say that voices are not so
different from thunderstorms; each is a force which can create a cosmic
field.36
Gradually, I became able to discern minute fragments of the voices which
had tended to disappear in the thunderstorm. Then I realized that each of
the several dozen sitting in the circle had a certain role. For example, the
pattern of rhythm for the monkey-like shouts consists of an antiphony
between several voices. In other words, a rhythmic pattern consisting of
four sounds
Actually, the patterns are much more complex and are done at certain
moments with a speed far beyond our understanding of human capabilities.
Is it really possible to acquire this through training?
The old man, who was performing next to me while I listened, carved
out with the cycles of his breath a rhythm that remained regular until the
end-it lasted more than an hour. The innumerable individual roles that
formed the ketchak rang out like sounds of the earth. I sensed the depth of
its meaning more strongly than ever.
Recently, I had a chance to talk about gamelan music with Kohei Sugiura
for a magazine.37 He made many suggestive remarks:
One more important thing is that when these performances take place,
the people surrounding the performers assimilate themselves into the
performance in a real sense. Not only because the performers are their
relatives, but because they become immersed in the stories. It appears
that the story of the Ramayana is used in the ketchak. There are some
lines halfway through (I don't know whether they were there from the
beginning or added later).... When a villain appears, according to
the story, the audiences behaved just as we used to when Ken Takakura
[a Japanese movie actor who often plays the hero] was attacked from
behind by a swordsman and the audiences at movie theatres far from
metropolitan centers would shout, "Look out from behind, Ken!!"
The audience, including children, really shouted and jumped [laugh-
ter] even though they had seen it several times.... These people [in
the ketchak] are stage-hands yet they are observers at the same time.
They are performers and spectators. You see, it's not viewed as an affair
of others alone. This is precisely why it might be possible, after people
have dispersed, that only sounds are left behind, spread over the
ground. It's as though the performance has been printed upon the
earth.... To make nature the subject and to speak from that per-
spective: sounds permeate the soil and wind, emanate from it just as
the skin takes on a slight flush in a suggestion of arousal ...
4-t f/f X
9~~
Hiw pi
T.
_ _JU M_L ....
R.
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European music, whether or not he was Japanese. One might say that the
fact that I am Japanese made the problem somewhat more burdensome for
me. In any case, it was because I studied European music that Japan
appeared in a positive light for me. Otherwise I might not have come to a
realization of Japan.
Since then I have intentionally had considerable contact with traditional
music. As contact deepens and I am strongly attracted by it, I come face to
face with many problems which are unsolvable to my way of thinking. In
effect, my thought has a tendency to fall into a pattern of point and
counter-point, as for example, Japan and the West, the East and the West.
Because of this, it could happen that as I affirm an aspect of the Japanese, a
simple rejection of the Western results on the other side. So far, I have
understood many aspects of Japanese music, I have written about them,
and I thought I had grasped their essence in my terms, that this contributed
in some degree to my music. However, as my contact deepens, Japanese
music gradually has become more difficult to understand.41 From another
point of view, perplexity might have arisen whether or not I really under-
stood Western music or received influence from it.
But within this confusion, however unsettling, there is also the fact that I
have begun to feel a more definite response than before to that which is
Japan and that which is Europe. Nevertheless, such a dual feedback in my
thinking will block everything no matter how hard each element strives.
It was by chance that I traveled to Indonesia. A meaningful trip it was.
It probably brought me more problems. I think
it also brought about certain movements and the manner of
thinking that pits
changes in my thinking. At present I am obliged point against point
to say, simply, that I have come to endure all the produces a
problems which face me and to accept them. As a methodical logicality
way of living, it may not be such a bad idea to see under which that
which is the essence
life as supported by the passions of enduring. I cannot aevel
cannot help feeling that we have always dealt only
half-heartedly with things we should have accepted with our whole selves.
This feeling, indeed, might have been the totality of what I sensed in
Indonesia. The way in which I have behaved, the manner in which most
Japanese have related to the West, does not allow one to associate with
Japan freely. The manner of thinking that pits point against point as, for
example, the West against Japan, such formulas simply produce a methodi-
cal logicality under which that which is the essence cannot develop.
On the plateau in Indonesia, I was thinking about a tree standing in a
faraway land. If we are going to receive influence from Europe, it will be
from this moment forward.42 Such thoughts flashed across my mind.
Now, when I think about the musics I am most attracted by, I realize that
the common factor among them is that many belong to races which do not
possess written alphabets.
Since I have not studied ethnomusicology specifically, my feeling could
be irrelevant scientifically; it may lack pertinence. But the music of a literate
culture always seems to move toward abstraction, while each sound in the
music belonging to one without a written language will be connected with
more or less concrete matters and phenomena which seem themselves to
determine the unique characteristics of musical expression. These musics
are, for example, those of the American Indians, the Eskimos, the Ainu,
and the Polynesians.
With the acquisition of an alphabet, human vocabulary expands.
Accordingly, the meanings of words are apt to be limited by indicative
functions and thus are prone to abstraction. Naturally, words have the
characteristic of being uttered, of communicating, and this is deeply related
to the origins of music. But when words function denotatively, their
sonority is sacrificed. Specific examples of such loss may be seen in mean-
ingless public oration. I would rather that the spellbinding power of the
voice not be evoked in speeches aimed at political agitation. But even this
instance, however, seems to me proof that words do not function, do not
exist, simply as denotative meanings.
Incidentally, I will add that there may exist poetical and political lan-
guages in opposition to each other within our human languages.44 Is it not
the case that people are in the middle, that they live with a daily language
which has been influenced by and relates to both .... This notion some-
times occurs to me.
The emptiness of agitative political speeches (in short, their lack of
genuine persuasiveness) is due to the fact that their political language
intends a poetic uplift which does not get through to people. It may be
possible to assert the opposite. I am thinking about the death of Yukio
Mishima. I am not really qualified to talk about that incident.45 Consider-
ing the disappointing nature of his dying words-difficult to credit against
the background of his literary achievement-I think his death was after all
only a political (or one might call it poetic) event, unrelated to the general
population. To Yukio Mishima, who committed suicide, a conception of
nation might have existed. If so, it contained no people.
I find it very interesting that scholars have pointed out that no individual
heroes exist in the mythology and folk tales from generation to generation
within oral cultures. This fact could be tied to the manner in which music
exists. The existence of heroes might be a notion produced by the process
of abstract thought. For example, I have heard that the heroes of Eskimo
folk tales endure for no more than three generations. In other words,
people in one's immediate family circle-the father, grandfather, great-
grandfather-appear as heroes in their stories. If one were to think deeply
about such facts, it might lead one to the center of all those problems
related to the essence of the human race. And this might also open to us
new visions regarding the problems of time and space with which music is
concerned.
However, the strong attraction I feel towards the music of the Eskimos
or Indians is not based on prior knowledge.
It was almost ten years ago that I had a chance to hear many of the hula
chants which are transmitted orally between native Hawaiians. It was with
the help of Ms. Barbara Smith, a noted ethnomusicologist who taught at
the University of Hawaii. Each made a strong impression on me, and I
cannot forget even today how much I was moved by the beauty of the
variety of pronunciation, the unique rhythmic articulation. This may
sound like an extreme opinion, but I feel that one could not find an
example comparable to the subtle coloration of vowels and the delicate
beauty of their gradation such as exists in Hawaii's language. I communi-
cated this candid impression to her and she concurred. She also explained
that the vocabulary of the Hawaiian language is small; it has a variety of
phonetic and breath alterations that are introduced at the time of enuncia-
tion and they are important because so many words are homonyms. In hula
chants, the meaning of exactly the same arrangement of words changes
depending upon whether the phrase is sung in one breath or one takes a
breath in the middle. When you listen to a chant, the performers rubbing
together small black stones held in their palms, the upper parts of their
bodies swaying like waves, you feel, indeed, how unmusical our conversa-
tion is.
The music of the Eskimo and also that of the American Indian acquires
its meaning as music and as language only after it is actually enunciated. (It
might just as well be called singing instead. They [music and language] are
inseparable.) For this reason, music and art always have social functions;
that is to say they exist as information. Music cannot be distilled in
isolation.
It also seems to be the case that only in such societies (which we call
uncivilized or primitive) does the power of spells appear. I have the feeling
that there is a shortage of explanation in societies that do not possess
alphabets, in particular printed letters, as the basis for silent forms of
information. In societies that possess them, music aims at aesthetic purity,
increases its harmonic complexity, yet becomes increasingly impoverished
When you read the old books, two kinds of sounds are mentioned-
one is the vibration of a very clear and high spirit, closer to the sky, and
the other is the vibration of air in a lower plane closer to the ground.
As for the vibration in the sky, there are some who think it is the same
as the music of the celestial sphere about which Pythagoras wrote in
the 6th century B.C. These are the sounds of the universe which have
always existed and are unchangeable. Since they are not born of any
physical impulse, they are called anahata nada, in other words "inac-
tive sounds." The other kind of sounds are [sic] always produced by
physical impulse and are, therefore, arhata nada, "active sounds." In
the latter case, sounds are produced at the moment of a given impulse
and cease to exist as soon as the vibration stops.
Inactive sounds are extremely important in Yoga. They are the eternal
sounds that the Yogi desires to hear within himself. It is only possible
I have not seen such supernatural acts with my own eyes. Those who
place themselves within the narrow confines of musical experience can
neither see nor hear things of this sort. I have written above that in a society
which depends on silent information (possesses a printed alphabet), music
aims at purification (aesthetically) and increases its harmonic complexity.
That is to say, "Contrary to the idea that music is based on many expressive
moods and tone colors-often in extreme opposition-Indian melody cen-
ters around one important mood and emotion throughout its duration,
expanding out from this and reaching towards subtlety. The effect of this is
centering and hypnotic, sometimes becoming magical."52 This probably is
a notable difference between Eastern and Western music.
The voice of a lama, low and crawling over the ground, the voice of a
Central American Indian, clarion as though to embellish the ridge of a line
of mountains, the voice of a hula chant that ebbs and flows slowly like the
tide; all these vocal sounds show us but one life.
To ponder over the role an individual has in music, as I am doing,
certainly appears arrogant. That I may have taken pains only to distinguish
myself from others by asserting ego through am o wo
various means in composition is a dismal thought. desires to make
I am one who desires to make music in the ordi- music in the
nary course of living. It is strange how difficult it is ordinary course of
to perform this easy task easily. Recently, a young living. It is
composer expressed the opinion that the reason stnge how
contemporary music is so generally unapproach- difJult itisto
able is that it has lost melody and harmony. He p ts easily
would, therefore, like to add one's bodily move-
ment and projected images to the medium of music. I wonder whether the
disease is so deeply rooted that we can no longer recognize why we cannot
sing melodies.
A composer exists without spinning out even one simple melody because
his attitude shackles him. Questions regarding the role that music performs
should be asked in relation to others, should not stop short simply with the
aesthetic problems of an individual.
The existence of a human being is like that of an individual sound within
a scale, and cannot be completed in isolation. But to put forth even such an
evident fact is extremely difficult in our time. Do I write this because I am
irritated at being lame, at being a composer? What is the function that I
should serve? I think my objectives include others as well as myself. But it
appears they cannot easily be substituted for those of an audience. I
probably belong to a type of composer of songs who keeps thinking about
melody; I am old-fashioned. What I desire to reach through the continua-
tion of a melody is beyond the pleasure and the sorrow experienced during
this continuation. Yet I cannot simply call that for which I reach eternity.
One friend says music is a form of prayer.56 Musical acts of mine, also (if
we were to express them in an orderly fashion with words) consist of the
several layers of emotion that support such acts, and might be construed
as prayers. We may justly say they cannot be explained by any other word.
However, by prayer I really mean something which cannot be formed
with words.
It weighs heavily upon my mind: what is the object to which my acts are
directed? How should I describe what I see or am trying to see through a
music which has a utility value of almost nothing?
The singular melodic line that Bach drew throughout his Magnificat
corresponds so perfectly to all the elements of individual emotion that it is
impossible to regard it simply as a functional result of sounds. In western
music, generally, the logic and physics of sound did not precede music
itself. On the contrary, in Bach, logic and function were an inevitable result
of the music.
Bach was pious toward the unknown force that motivated him from
within. Because of its power, he could be called a genius. The force was
directed towards finding God. However, the genius of this individual was
rooted in the soil of the local community and could not easily be
abstracted.
But, having acquired a modern sense of ego, civilized society tends to
relocate the individuals that do exist insofar as it is possible. Telecom-
munication turns local communities towards urbanization, and men are
uniformly caught up in a sense of emptiness amidst the tremendous volume
of information. Moreover, as a result of the means used to treat this
condition, they become independent of and unrelated to the humane.
Thus, human individuality becomes extremely eccentric, gradually losing
its social ties. People are separated as individuals, and the acts of the
individual often go unrecognized. Under these conditions, it is difficult to
be an individual in a true sense.
During the winter of 1968, Duke Ellington gave a charity concert
entitled "Freedom" at the Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine on
110th Street in Manhattan. At that time, he was a topic of conversation, for
it was just after he had been knighted by the royal family of England. On
that evening, while the dense icy wind drove in from the Hudson River,
more than seven thousand persons gathered at this Gothic cathedral on
which construction began in 1890 and still continues.
All the performers wore native costumes from various African countries.
They were visually colorful. At the end, many blacks in the audience cried
out as one for "freedom," and, strung out in a long line, they sang and
snake-danced through the audience. Duke Ellington himself, while ham-
mering at the organ, shouted "freedom" in many languages and it seemed
to come from the innermost depths of his heart.
This music was a soul state that I have no name for, was a prayer redolent
of striving.
Black philosopher Cyrus Mosley has said that jazz is neither rhythm nor
melody. It is not a form that develops gradually. It involves an individual
freedom and the desire to express what one feels at any given moment
during the performance. It is an emotion created in performance, out of
the depths of a sadness that surpasses all imagination.57 When the lonely
feelings touch one another, music takes on its shape. Music is neither
individualistic nor pluralistic. Rather, it exists in the relationships between
men, and this may sound strange, but it cannot be owned by an individual.
Such thoughts crossed my mind sitting in the corner of the Cathedral, filled
with echoes.
This was exactly the same thing I had felt among the brimming sounds of
the gamelan in Indonesia. Music is something that an individual cannot
Music is something possess, yet it begins strictly through an individual
that an individual and later shows its form in relation to other indi-
cannot possess, yet viduals. This is not a socio-scientific thesis. Rather,
it begins stnctly
it begins strictly it is a theological one.
through an
individual and later If, as my friend said, music is a form of prayer,
shows itsform then we may call any craving for a relationship with
in relation others-human relations, social relations, and rela-
to other individuals. tionships with nature (as well as with God)-
prayers. Without reservation, I welcome the coming of such relationships
in which music will take part.
With regard to such inner problems, I cannot actually think separately of
the music of Bach, jazz, or of the gamelan. But I know I must think about
the existence of individuals and of the relationships that arise among them
because of the different qualities and characteristics of civilization.
I am Japanese. This is why I look at such problems from a rather special
point of view. But it is also the source of confusion in my thinking.
Particularly when I think about traditional Japanese music, I feel that I am
chasing myself along a circuitous route. Although my perspective may be
unnatural in some ways, still it is unavoidable.
I have previously written that sounds in traditional Japanese music seem
to reject the scale to which they belong. If I were to rewrite this here, I
would say that traditional Japanese music does not exist through relation-
ships. On the contrary, it could be said that its form appears only when
such relationships are cut off. There is an individual art that fulfills itself in a
quite different sense from that of the Western genius, in a word, the
existence of a master. Why are they enclosed within a "house," a "school,"
a "style?" I am not one who is concerned with the right or wrong of this
matter, but it weighs upon my mind nevertheless.
The old man I met in the village of Toru in Sunda had studied in England
and spoke English beautifully. He wore a black Western jacket with a closed
collar, which is unique to Java, and had wrapped around his waist a tasteful
batik instead of pants. On the top of his head, there was a little brimless hat
like that worn by Sukarno or Suharto. His gentle look and his white
mustache reminded me of Tetsuzo Tanikawa.58 Except for the distinctions
in clothing, there was no difference in his movements and his appearance
from those of a Japanese. I spoke with him without feeling any of the sense
of incompatibility that usually accompanies talking to a foreigner.
While watching his granddaughter dance accompanied by the simple
music of a kundan and suling, I thought that what supports this old man's
life is entirely different from what supports mine. I felt that, in the space
that separated us, a dark high wall had begun to be constructed. However,
this was probably a feeling particular to my perspective. This old man had a
foundation for his life that would be difficult to shake, unless there were
some exceptional reasons, a basis which had not been destroyed even by
the invasions that had occurred several times during his life.
Perhaps I was affected by a special sentiment during these three weeks of
traveling. For I was in a somewhat depressed mood, having noticed the
amount of Japanese merchandise available at a market in central Denpasar,
on Bali; it was clearly of bad quality, made by unknown manufacturers.
Although it has little to do with what I am trying to write about here, I
would like to touch upon it.
The Japanese economic invasion was evident on Java. It was worse there.
Cars running in the towns are either Japanese-made or huge, ancient
American Pontiacs. Many hotels are managed by Japanese on American
capital. Signboards for these enterprises can be seen standing out in nature
among the mountains. The wages of those who work in the factories for
Japanese enterprises are extremely low. This is an invasion with a different
face. Japan holds the economic initiative, at least in Southeast Asia.
And yet he is dressed in folk costume and keeps following the move-
ments of his dancing granddaughter with gentle eyes, while sitting next to
me. He is enjoying the rhythm of the kundan and his hands lightly beat
upon his knees. What presented itself to my eyes was his serenity-a quality
unique to his race, deepened by Western culture-which has now become
so foreign to us. In Japan, also, there are a few cultivated persons of this
type, but, in fact, taking Japan as a whole, I think that we have lost such
serenity.
I hesitate to write it down, as it is such a naive question, but why, when
we opened our doors to the West, did we not also open towards Asia?60 I
don't think we have to feel awkward in the presence of Western civilization,
like poor relations, as S6seki Natsume wrote.61 We should restrain our-
selves from saying that Western civilization is being destroyed, watching the
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In some sense, I was envious of their attitude. But when I imagine the
things that will eventually appear in their music-the future of a music that
enshrines ancient history-somehow I cannot help anticipating palpably
sterile results.
Still, I do not look down upon their confusion or their loss of self-
composure. On the contrary, I was even touched, in some sense, by their
positive attitude toward the history upon which they stand. I make West-
ern music as the French musicians do. But I wonder if I have ever had such
Today, music has a voracious craving to appropriate in the way that
begun itsjourney they do.62 Western music came to us and became
toward historical subtly weathered without our knowing it. This is,
andgeographical perhaps, not my personal problem but is an affair
uniication. related to the Japanese as a whole.
There is no one
who does not doubt Today, music has begun its journey toward his-
the idea torical and geographical unification. This in
that modern Western response to a humanistic demand underlying an
musical thought extremely well-developed science and civilization.
is the only viable At least it is now rare to hear such an outrageous
standard. argument as the notion that a lesser number of
sounds in a mode (for example, the pentatonic, etc.) indicates cultural
underdevelopment. There is no one who does not doubt the idea that
modern Western musical thought is the only viable standard. Paraphrasing
what Ryunosuke Akutagawa said, the "art" music of the modern West
(that has existed exclusively for a small group of people) finally had to give
up its absolute position in the face of larger humanistic demands.63 The
condition of popular music today in Europe and America, the strong
influence of Indian and African music observed there, is something more
than a phenomenon of fashion, it is being brought about by more radical,
fundamental, human demands. It would be difficult to argue against such a
position.
The French musicians I traveled with possessed the sharpest awareness of
crisis. When I think of the intense conflict that must have taken place inside
them when they stood in such an entirely different climate from that which
had shaped their sensitivity, I am not inclined to smile over their trials or at
the errors they will perpetuate.
In the end, I found during my trip that I did not possess a sense of crisis
to the degree that the French did. Nor am I able to make music innocently,
simply guided by emotion, until life and music become inseparable, as they
are for the Indonesian.
I shall roam within the eternal inner maze that the two mirrors have
created. And I would like to intensify the opposition and contradiction that
takes place, instead of letting it go off-handedly. There, I shall continue to
question "music."
Why have the Japanese departed from "religion?" Why do the Japanese
try to listen to the infinite whole within one sound that has been distilled
almost to nothing? Why does Japanese traditional music not exist by way of
relationships, and why, indeed, does its form emerge only at the point
where it breaks off with such relationships?
Now, I do not know where this road will lead me, but I have already
begun to walk.
a.ou . - 1------
P-_ P
C tp oke
NOTES
4. The gamelan ensemble (the generic term for a Javanese orchestra) can
vary in size and composition, but although there are significant
variations in the overall sound palette produced by different groups in
Java and Bali, the listener is inevitably struck by the richness, the
shimmer of their sonority. Since tuning is a crucial factor in their
arresting sound, gamelans-the word here indicating a specific set of
instruments-are carefully tuned and maintained within the
community.
5. The Javanese shadow play, the wayang kulit, was in existence in Java as
early as the eleventh century. A chief performer, the dalang, tells a
story while intricately cutout puppets cast shadows on a screen which
is back-lit. There is musical accompaniment.
7. As the N6 theater has its bridge to the other world, the Kabuki
theater has an entryway for actors, the hanamichi, that leads through
the audience from the rear of the house. The Bunraku stage is
similarly designed for its unique performance requirements, including
the presence of puppeteers. Thus in each of the three major tradi-
tional genres entrances, exits, and the placement of actors and accom-
panying musicians are formalized in accord with a standard set of
conventions and expectations.
8. The Meiji Period, which began with the accession to the throne of
the Meiji emperor, was marked by an unprecedented effort on the
part of a small group of nobles and samurai to create a new national
11. In the West the development of the arts occurs dialectically through
individual innovators whereas in Japan there has been an emphasis on
the polishing of a style or genre within a family tradition that is
handed down from father to son, master to disciple. The Western
style of dialectic, with its emphasis on struggle, conflict, and con-
quest, did not take place in traditional Japan, but this does not mean
that the Japanese master is condemned to rote repetition.
What makes the Japanese master what he is, is that there are certain
moments when he transcends the limits of the family or clan tradi-
tions. There is, then, an undefinable stage which only a master can
reach at which the limits of self-containment (where one is bound by
taboos and restrictions) are exceeded. A slim, long tradition suddenly
extends itself horizontally, conquering the whole surface of the grass.
The ability to transcend the conventions of the school is prerequi-
site to recognition as a master. Thus there may be some element of
the dialectical in even this phenomenon.
12. Here the author contrasts the Edo period's closed door policy and the
development of the Japanese arts in isolation from foreign influences
with two earlier periods of great artistic flowerings characterized by
the wholesale borrowing of mainland culture. The Nara period began
in 710 with the construction of a capital city, Nara, based on the
Chinese model. "Its construction," historian George Sansom
observed, "was an expressive symbol of the transfer to Japan of
foreign influences." The Muromachi period, so called after a quarter
in Kyoto where the Ashikaga shoguns housed themselves, was notable
for its foreign trade and the patronage of the fine arts, in particular
N6 drama and the art of the tea ceremony. Under the Tokugawa
shogunate in Edo (modern-day Tokyo) came the seclusion order of
1639; the art forms that emerged during the Edo period were largely
in response to the needs of a prosperous urban bourgeoisie.
16. Pelog, with seven tones, is one of the two basic scales of Indonesian
music. The other, slendro, is pentatonic.
21. But, as in the oceans there are many separate currents with contrast-
ing directions, speeds, and temperatures, this metaphoric river, the
author believes, would remain heterogeneous at the same time that it
was in harmony.
26. The Kanto plain, dominated by the modern city of Tokyo, is often
contrasted with the older and more traditional posture of the Kansai
region which includes Kyoto and Osaka. Osaka and Tokyo were the
primary seats of the arts under discussion here.
27. The Edo period began when Ieyasu Tokugawa gained power in 1600.
Iemitsu Tokugawa was shogun from 1623 to 1651, during which time
the feudal structure that lasted until the Meiji Resoration came to be
codified and the sumptuary laws governing the arts began to be
promulgated.
29. Eishi Kikkawa, A History of apanese Music (Tokyo: Sogen Sha, n.d.)
30. Known as the Li Chi, "Record of Rites," this is one of the Six Classics
of Chinese philosophy, of unknown authorship and predating the
Age of Philosophers (Confucius, et al.).
33. Kiang wrote this in Japanese, and although his command of the
language was faulty, the message was well-understood and much
admired by the Japanese.
mi
ga
"unpolished" ka= "mirror"
nu
ka
"mirror" ga "unpolished"
mi_
44. The inference here is that political language is denotative while poeti-
cal language is evocative.
47. It might be noted here that standard spoken Japanese is very regular
both in its tempo and in the fact that every syllable (the overwhelm-
ing majority of which have an identical construction of consonant-
vowel) is allotted an equal amount of time. In theatrical contexts, this
incessant regularity gives way to a radical distension that is powerfully
affecting.
48. R Murray Schafer has published many avant-garde works, both musi-
cal and literary. In 1975 he was a professor of communications theory at
Simon Fraser University, Burnaby, British Columbia, Canada.
50. The sho is a seventeen-pipe mouth organ that, through the continuity
of circular breathing, functions as the harmonic stabilizer in Gagaku
music. Its sonority is particularly ethereal.
54. Takemitsu's works often close with a strikingly lyrical coda. When
questioned about this he admits that he does not want the music to
end. If he puts a melodic fragment at the close, he muses, listeners
may feel ". .. ah, from here the music begins." His large work for
piano and orchestra, ARC, for example, is in six movements, the last
of which is entitled "Coda: Shall begin from the end."
55. Takemitsu is here evoking, in his own words, one of Tagore's poems.
57. These remarks stem from a discussion Takemitsu had with Mosley
when the latter was teaching in Japan.
61. Natsume, one of the greatest novelists of the Meiji era, studied in
England and while in Europe wrote numerous essays regarding his
awareness of "Japanese inferiority," a prevalent feeling then.
62. The French despair of their own, Western, logic, hear the Javanese
music and are flabbergasted by it. The irony, Takemitsu thinks, is that