LADY FLUTE IN THE OCTAGONAL TOWER for Flute Solo（2012）

“There was a rumor that, at a certain time, a lady would appear on the observation deck of the Asakusa Twelve-Story Tower “Ryōunkaku” and play a mysterious tune on the transverse flute. It was said to be a truly bizarre tune that, while music-like, also resembled the wind, a bird call, or even a kind of signal or form of communication. Mr. Takichi Inugami, who was involved in spectacles in the theater under the observation deck, became intrigued by the curious sound of the flute from above and described in detail the tune and his impressions of the lady he observed from afar in his diaries. After the Great Kantō Earthquake, the Inugami family moved from Asakusa to Ueno. Later, people believed that the diaries had been lost during a major air raid in the subsequent Greater East Asia War. However, during the full inventory of the T Bunka Kaikan (Metropolitan Concert Hall)’s music library after the Great East Japan Earthquake, it was found that most of the diaries had been stored deep within the archive, among local historical materials.”

This piece is, in a sense, a reconstruction of that tune for the transverse flute — this is the world set (or envisioned) for the composition of the piece. The Ryōunkaku, completed in 1890 (the 23rd year of the Meiji era), was the tallest tower in Japan and served as a landmark of early Tokyo, and later collapsed in the Great Kantō Earthquake in 1923 (the 12th year of the Taishō era). In fact, though the Ryōunkaku was heavily crowded just after its opening, it gradually fell into decline and drew few visitors in its later years. The tower appears to have grown heavy with unease, a place marked by the comings and goings of shadowy figures, and by a lingering uncertainty over whether the lady herself had ever truly existed. Yet it is a plausible story, given the mature, decadent yet vivacious spirit of Tokyo in the Taishō era―a “Spellbound City.”
In the years 2011 and 2012 (Heisei 23 and 24[TH1.1]), when the piece was composed, Tokyo saw what might be called a deepening of its “devilishness.” Some people moved away from the metropolis, where air and water might be contaminated by radiation. In Sumida, near Asakusa, where the Ryōunkaku was located, a new tower called “Skytree” was erected, which could be interpreted in various ways from the perspective of Chinese geomancy (feng shui). Additionally, what seems to have accelerated the advance of “devilishness” is the extreme weather and the great chaos in the preparations for the coming World Sports Festival. Moreover, in the years 2025 and 2026 (Reiwa 7 and 8), that is, when the score was being prepared for publication, extreme weather had intensified almost to the point of tropicalization, and the streets teemed with immigrants, adding a new dimension to the enigmatic city of Tokyo. This piece conveys both a fondness for a kind of retro-futuristic vision and a lament for Tokyo as it gradually embraces these aesthetics.

ーーーーー

In terms of performance, for example, it would be better to create a sense of flow and sway, as if the music were breathing, rather than an exact tempo. This also applies to the “spaces” between phrases.
I would also like performers to eventually decide if they produce micro-intervals by finger techniques or by adjusting their embouchure. This is true for multiphonics, so I do not mind if they adjust the pitch closer to the notated one when the intended effect cannot be achieved. I will appreciate the performers’ autonomy, as this can open up more interpretive possibilities. That said, the playing techniques listed here will be of great help in performance. When composing the piece, I was greatly assisted by Ms. Naomi Oda, who commissioned and premiered it. In preparing the published score, the flutist Ms. Takako Imai also provided editing assistance. I am deeply grateful for both of them. As for the list of techniques, I mainly referred to The Techniques of Flute Playing I, written by Carin Levine and Christina Mitropoulos-Bott.