Hello. Sorry for the late update—here’s my report for May.
It may look like it was updated on June 1st, but today is actually June 10th.
I have a few updates to share.
I hadn’t been able to update my recent work, but I’ve added a few items.
Due to various circumstances—some I can share, others I can’t...
The film The Boy and the Dog is still showing at some theaters.
The soundtrack, for which I arranged several pieces, is available on streaming platforms and other services.
Working on Various Things
I know “various things” is a bit vague, but I was mostly caught up with work.
In May, I didn’t really have time to sit at the piano or tinker with my synths at leisure.
I also found myself traveling more than usual—which, on the bright side, gave me a chance to visit places I don’t normally go. That part was fun.
That said, I (secretly) bought a few new pieces of gear. I’m eager to try them out, but it looks like I’ll need a bit more time.
This tends to happen with everything, but I really want to find a way to overcome the psychological hurdle of trying something new. It feels like such a waste of time otherwise…
Oh right, this reminds me—I’ve also been slowly remaking some older pieces I wrote a long time ago.
Maybe I’ll share them somewhere, someday?
Aside from updating this page, I also keep a handwritten journal.
It’s fascinating to see how my thinking completely changes over the course of six months.
Of course, there are also things that remain firmly in place—structural foundations, ideals, and so on.
In remaking old pieces, I can really see what I cared about back then, how I related to my skills at the time, and what came out of it.
Those traces remain incredibly vivid.
Ironically, I sometimes find I can’t reproduce the same things now.
It makes me think that growth is an irreversible process.
Then again, the passage of time itself is (as of now) considered irreversible, and that thought makes me a little sentimental.
When I play shamisen in 小唄（"Ko-u-ta"）, I notice something distinct about the instrument:
Unlike the piano, you can somewhat shape the tone even after the sound is produced.
It’s like you can keep your nerves connected to the very edge of the sound as it fades.
Of course, with the piano too, you can control things like the resonance, touch, fingering, pedaling, and the timing of release.
But still, I feel a difference between a percussion-based instrument and one that’s plucked.
They’re both “played,” yet different in essence.
By the way, I also studied the violin for four years.
I can’t really perform anymore, though...
Anyway, I’ve gone off on a bit of a tangent, but what I wanted to say was:
The way each instrument handles the sound after it’s been produced reveals a different sense of time and a different way of listening.
On that note, I just got a book by Gisèle Brelet, and I’m looking forward to reading it.
That’s about it.
It’s another hectic month, but I’ll do my best.