Expressing Sound
On Sunday morning, I
was feeling something like this.
Even though I was moved enough
by just the morning alone
on this day,
there was something else in the afternoon that thrilled my heart.
On this day, the afternoon
was the annual concert.
Last year, for the first time in two years,
the concert was held in person.
On that stage,
I did my first live stream.
(The kind broadcast to the whole world. Haha)
Well, you see, on stand.fm,
you can choose between limited distribution and worldwide distribution.
Once I got on stage
and pressed the button, I had to start,
so I couldn't post a URL or anything in a tweet... so it was
a worldwide broadcast!! Hahaha
Last year, I decided to play a song
that I had received a request for at the concert.
It was a request from Asami Ishino.
After my first test stream a few days prior,
when I performed the actual show via live stream,
in real-time,
there were other people listening too,
and honestly,
it was a storm of excitement.
And then, a year passed.
This year, it was held in November.
While wondering whether or not to do a live stream again this year,
I wondered what I could do this year.
That is what I was thinking.
Right now, my right hand is recovering.
If I ride my motorcycle once, I have to rest my hand or it starts to hurt.
Starting one week before the concert, I began to play with trepidation.
Perhaps the piece foresaw this, as I had coincidentally chosen a song I was already able to play...
To My Beloved
If I practiced the difficult parts, it seemed I could somehow make it work.
However, I can only play it through twice a day.
My right pinky finger starts to hurt.
This sheet music was for advanced players.
Advanced pieces often have parts where you have to stretch your fingers to play chords, which puts a strain on the pinky.
I broke my pinky in the past, so it lacks strength.
For a different reason than the pain from riding my motorcycle, I became unable to practice for long periods.
Every day, I play it through just twice. It takes about 15 minutes.
I wondered what I could possibly do in such a short time.
I thought that, but once I actually started playing...
I was so happy that I shivered with joy
at being able to play the piano again
after having it sealed away for recovery.
And, in fact, the difficult parts
had become surprisingly easy to play.
Why was I able to play them?
Because I had learned the connections between the notes.
Because I had come to understand
what the next note would be.
This is a different sensation from memorizing music,
it feels exactly like my fingers have learned it.
When I can't play something,
there is a hesitation
as if my fingers are searching for the right keys.
But if I know what the next note is,
I just need to guide my fingers
toward it,
so there is no anxiety,
and I can play without hesitation.
And so, I reached the performance day with only a short practice time.
A live stream.
When I announced that,
I felt guilty for asking people to set aside time to wait for it,
and I felt anxious that everyone might be too busy to come.
Those feelings swirled around,
and I felt nothing but anxiety,
but the feedback I received last year
made me so happy
that I decided in my heart to deliver it again this year.
Last year, I didn't intend to keep the live stream
as an archive,
and I actually felt a little regret
that I deleted it right away.
This year, as long as there are no broadcast accidents,
I decided to keep an archive,
and I recorded the audio
by taking care to ensure that my name and the voices of those around me
would not be included more than necessary.
(The performance begins around 1:03.)
Things that have changed
since I started delivering piano sounds
via live streaming for a year.
Rather than feeling nervous,
I wanted to express the sound I was imagining.
That is what I found myself wishing for.
The joy of being able to play a grand piano,
the environment where I can fully enjoy the sound in a hall.
I played every single note
with all my heart.
Even though my fingers hurt and I couldn't play,
the sound ringing in my head
became something I could imagine
more concretely...
And I became filled with the desire
to express that.
In the middle, during the page turn,
the sound became a bit uneven, but...
Playing without mistakes
is different from expressing sound.
Being able to play just as I imagined at the concert
made me so happy I couldn't find the words,
and I thought to myself that this was proof
of all the hard work I've done this past year.
When I ended the stream,
for a brief moment, I saw the names
of the people who were commenting.
To everyone who came to listen,
thank you so much!!
After the concert ended,
I received a bouquet
and walked down the darkened road.
It was very warm,
and a warm rain was falling,
not like autumn at all.
Even if the world ended tomorrow,
I would have no regrets.
The satisfaction of playing exactly as I imagined
mixed with the happy feeling from the morning,
I have no regrets in life
as I headed home thinking that.
Why does music
make you feel so fulfilled?