On September 2, a typically hot late summer day in Osaka, I went to see an event titled "Namura Art Meeting '04 - '34 vol. 02" at the huge Namura Shipyard in Osaka’s Suminoe ward. The dates in the title reportedly stand for the period of the land lease rights. As this means that, starting with vol. 00 in 2004, the event is supposed to run over 30 years, for a Japanese project it’s quite an ambitious one.

 

I went on the second of two consecutive days, as I wanted to catch an event titled "Takahashi Yuji + Asada Akira anti-systematical music theory — dialogue and play". Takahashi, dressed in what looked like an ethnic costume from some southern country, sat down in front of the piano, and critic Asada next to him, from where he interspersed short conversations between the performances. The first piece was Erik Satie’s "Gnossienne No. 5", and according to Asada, it was a "happy memorial" for sangen player Takada Kazuko, who passed away about six weeks ago, and many other already dead musical allies.

 

Following were some of John Cage’s "Chess Pieces", and a selection of Kurtag Gyorgy’s "Jatekok (Games)". The highlight, however, was "bachiana afroasiatica", a composition by Takahashi based on J.S. Bach’s "Partita No.6", performed along with the original. The "Afro-Asian Bach" piece sounded very much like a typical piano solo of contemporary classical music, albeit skillfully and in surprising ways interlarded with fragmented melodies from the original composition. The musician, who was temporarily struck down by an illness, played this in a serene and relaxed manner. His unaffected, straighforward presentation highlighted the difference between the real thing and the copy.

 

As explained also by Takahashi and Asada, the Partita and other suites from the baroque era were combinations of various instrumental dance pieces. Further, different subgenres had different geographical origins, such as the German Allemande, the British/Irish Gigue, and the Sarabande from Spanish colonies in Central America. Evident there are also influences from the Islam and other parts of the non-Christian sphere, and even Bach, one of the most European of the European composers, used to quote and utilize non-European musical sources. The composers in Bach’s time were open in their creative work to hints from beyond national borders.

 

In a conversation with Takahashi Yuji in 1991, Takemitsu Toru said the following: "I recently read a short text by some critic, saying things like, 'There have emerged some really outstanding, partly even internationally relevant works created in Japan. But those are not more than continuations of all that was imported to Japan from Europe in the past, so, culturally speaking, the results are not as unique as Noh or Kabuki. Original Japanese art in the future can probably be created only out of a sensitivity sealed off to the outside world.' (laugh). I wonder why we should go that far just to produce some kind of 'Japanese' art?" (from "Music Today 12")

 

Takemitsu is absolutely right, but "bachiana afroasiatica" is definitely more constructive than his lament. Takahashi’s attempt is of course not of a nationalistic/regionalistic nature (regardless of the "asiatica" part). He juxtaposes and connects Bach with "Afro-Asia", yet at the same time betrays both. If you find "betraying" a bit exaggerated, consider it as a double-twisted introduction of exotic elements that can be seen at any time in any country. In June '07, the Suigyu website published the following text by Takahashi in an article titled "Suigyu no you ni ("Like a buffalo")", whereas the work he subsequently realized is probably even more universally relevant than his post-colonial thoughts might suggest.

 

"For 500 years, around the world the armies have been marching. Later then, the choruses chanting psalms. To rinse away such horrific sound, the seeds brought to us across the vast ocean and scattered across these enclosed islands, the rhythms woven together into Afro-Asian music by anonymous hands. From mosaics to arabesques, from arabesques to character patterns. ("Afro-Asian")

 

Four days later, when "Typhoon No. 9" hit Japan, Cage’s "Europera 5" was staged for the first time in Japan (9/6 at Suntory Hall, Tokyo). Written in the year before his death (1991), Cage’s last "portable opera" can be staged with a team of only six persons: a pianist, two singers, a Victorola operator, a lighting and a sound technician. Against the soundtrack of decent jazz tunes coming from a radio, the two singers performed an a cappella version of "Seguidilla" from Bizet’s "Carmen". This was followed by vocal, instrumental and Victorola presentations of independent arias and other music, performed in the style of Cage’s trademark chance operation, partly two or more at a time. Realtime news broadcasts informing about the approaching typhoon were shown on a TV set on the stage, before, according to the composer’s instruction, the performance ended abruptly when all sound and light was suddenly switched off after exactly one hour.

 

Adachi Tomomi, who was responsible for the direction of the piece that can be understood at once as "Europe’s Opera" and "Your Opera", explained that he tried to "cover the history of Japanese performing arts" (from "note from the director" in the brochure "Summer Festival 20th Anniversary — Music Today 21"). Consequently, from the Victorola operated by Tokidoki-Jido’s Asahina Naoyuki came such sounds as Kabuki music among others. It may be a technique to appeal to the domestic and international audience/public as part of a performance that, with the exception of Okazaki Kenjiro’s colorful costumes, comes across rather plain and simple. Needless to mention, this has to be (as I like to believe) unrelated to the aspired "Japanese art" that Takemitsu is criticising. Adachi consistently emphasizes that "the title 'European opera' reflects the sense of distance of John Cage as an American composer. […] We have to become more conscious about the Japanese conception of "opera". Or perhaps the Americans should become more aware of the European "opera" in Japan. So whom does 'we' refer to here?"

 

Be this as it may, asn an editor of an art magazine, I have the impression that there is far more freedom in music than in contemporary art. It is wonderful that Europe is not (anymore) the sole centre and origin, but there are (now) many sources without a real cultural epicentre. Music is (or has become) a worldwide art. But is art not in fact nothing more than simply a magnified expression of local ideas anyway?

Ozaki Tetsuya / Editor in chief / REALTOKYO