Gardener (Booklet + Music CD)

There are many different ways to play the piano. Some people like to read the sheet music and play exactly how it is written, while others like to improvise and play without reading anything, just following the body's movements. I am in the latter category. However, in the world of classical music that I have studied, improvisation is not as valuable as the old style of reproduction. This has to do with classical music’s history over the years, but it's a long story, so I won't go into it here. In any case, from the perspective of the world of classical music, the music I play with my body is not music, at least not to me. I have a lot of worthless “music before music” lying around inside of me. When I was young, I thought that even if it didn't reach anyone's ears, it didn't matter. However, as I got older, I began to feel sorry for them as I saw them covered in dust. So I thought I could at least wipe the dust off them and put them on a shelf so that someone could see them. These eight pieces of “music before music” cover my feelings about some things in life, but I don't believe that music alone can convey them. I believe that I will be able to achieve this goal only when someone who knows me well enough relates my music to my life and narrates it. But I think I am the only person in the world who can do that. That's why I decided to use my own language as a tool to capture things that can't be fully conveyed in music alone and spills over. What I ended up with is something that I don't know what to call it. I honestly don't know if it's a musical piece, a poetry book, an art book, an essay, or digital art. But if, through the fragmented images in these work, I can share the experience, including the “unknowability,” then I can say that my project has been successful. If I could state my wish, I would be delighted if, in this process, my “music before music” could resonate in someone's heart as music.