Formulating the Own Voice

Introduction

        As I have been in the orchestral world over the years, I often hear “this needs to sound more German” or “this sounds like French music.” My curiosity about my own musical roots began with these commentaries musicians often make. What is “Japanese” sound? There is a rich history in Japan’s music producing traditional musical forms, such as gagaku, Heikyoku, Noh, and Kabuki theater, however, when the country was opened in 1858 through the trade treaty with the US after 200 years of isolation, the Western musical tradition was imported. Then what happened? What is the relationship between Japanese traditional music and the Western music afterwords? How is the music by modern Japanese composers shaped?

          Through these questions, I developed my interest in the era when the Western music was brought to Japan because I was also born in Japan and was exposed to the Western music in depth when I was trained in America later in my teens. It might be a too broad question to discover and define what Japanese music after the Meiji Restoration (1868) is. Thus, in this paper, I would like to focus on the music in Japan after World War II to examine the important part of the formulation of Japanese musical identity. I narrowed down the post-WWII music in Japan to film music to hypothesize that film music was a significant role in shaping “Japanese” sound after World War II. In my previous research, I discovered the key role that 1967’s November Steps by Toru Takemitsu played in the trajectory of Japanese music to coexist with both traditional musical source and Western musical influences. Additionally, in my other previous research I analyzed Japan’s independence of experimental music scene prior to John Cage’s visit in 1962. In this research, my focus is to examine Japanese film music in the post-WWII, particularly in the 1950s and 1960s, which is the timeframe between the exploration to European and American experimental music and the incorporation of Japanese traditional instruments and musical forms into the compositions by Japanese composers. I am utilizing Takemitsu’s film music and his November Steps as the references to investigate the trajectory of the shift in the music scene in Japan.

Pre and Post WWII Film Music in Japan

          To provide a brief overview of the history of film music in Japan, I’d like to explore the use and incorporation of Japanese instruments into the film prior to the WWII and right after WWII. Japanese traditional instruments have been used in the film since “Reimei” in 1919, one of the first sound films in Japan, scored by Kosaku Yamada.[1] It was already common to have Japanese traditional instruments and Western instruments together in the film, especially for Jidai-geki, a period drama set before the Meiji Restoration. In these films, Shamisen, three-stringed lute, was often used with the Western instruments in a Western tonal setting. Unlike Biwa, Shamisen was easier to tune with the Western instruments and has a wide range of expression. Shamisen was also popularly used in the films because it was used frequently for Ryukouka, popular songs, which was written in a minor key in a miyakobushi scale, the same tuning system with the strings of Shamisen. Moreover, since Shamisen had been used as an accompaniment instrument, it was associated with the storytelling instrument and familiar to general public.[2] The incorporation of Shamisen with the Western instruments was part of Shinnihon Hogaku Movement during Taisho Period in the 1920s, which is the cultural trend to combine Japanese traditional instruments with Western music that was imported at that time.[3] Japanese traditional instruments and Western instruments were often used in the early silent and sound films in Japan, however, there was no significance in how they were combined since Japanese traditional instruments were merely used in some parts of a melody in the Western tonal setting.

          After World War II, under the post-war U.S. military occupation (1945-52), jidai-geki was banned as they were considered to portray feudalism or imperialism.[4] In his essay, Confronting Silence, Toru Takemitsu wrote, “Indeed, I started out as a composer by denying any ‘Japaneseness’’’[5] Unlike pre-WWII period, there was a sense of hesitation and rejection to utilize Japanese traditional instruments and traditional musical styles after the WWII due to its association with feudalism or imperialism. In this period, there was a large number of imports of American films, which brought various cinematic genres and influence of Western directorial styles to Japanese film industry. Thus, composers, like Takemitsu among others, began to explore European and American experimentalism after the WWII distancing themselves from Japanese traditional musical roots.

Japanese Film Music Prior to Takemitsu

          After jidai-geki was banned, and the second wave of the mass import of Western music and films in the late 1940s and early 1950s, I believe that Japanese composers began to reshape their musical identity through scoring for films. While Takemitsu’s musical and visual contribution was significant in the history of Japanese film music, there two crucial figures, Fumio Hayasaka and Masaru Kato, who reestablished Japanese film music after the war. These two composers returned to Japanese traditional musical roots through film score while simultaneously pushing the boundaries of what future film music could be. Although I picked three composers, Hayasaka, Kato, and Takemitsu, whom I believe the most important figures in Japanese film music post WWII, it is important to note that most of Japanese composers who became prominent after WWII were involved in the production of film music mainly to support their living.[6] However, these three composers took music in films further to explore new perspectives of the relationship between music and the visual component, and their musical influence became a source of inspiration for composers who followed them.

          Fumio Hayasaka was born in 1914 and had a short career of 15 years as a composer.[7] He created the foundation of film music compositional techniques and became the pioneer of film music scene in the past-WWII in Japan.[8] In fact, both Sato and Takemitsu learned film music compositional techniques and collaborative approach with film directors from Hayasaka as a student and assistant in his films. One of the film directors that Hayasaka collaborated in his early career was Kenji Mizoguchi, who often drew on Kabuki for inspiration.[9] Their jidai-geki, Ugetsu Monogatari (1953) won the award at the international film festival and became one of the first jidai-geki that was successful after the ban by U.S. military. This success was followed by another international success with Chikamatsu Monogatari (1954). Through this film, Hayasaka and Mizoguchi created a close connection between Japanese traditional instruments and traditional concept of the sound. In Chikamatsu Monogatari, Hayasaka frequently used Geza music, an accompaniment music in Kabuki theater, which fills in between the scene changes, emphasizes a certain dialogue between characters, and plays a role as sound effect.[10] Hayasaka combined various traditional instruments, such as yokobue, several types of taiko drums, tsukeita, shamisen, and koryu with the Western instruments, such as flute, bassoon, double bass, and harp. The title music imitates an opening music of Noh and Kabuki theater, kata, which consists of several repetitive gestures while making a gradual rhythmic change.[11] Having studied with Russian composer, Alexander Tcherepnin, Hayasaka’s musical foundation was still in the Western music.[12] American film critic Noel Burch viewed the film saying:

Japanese theatrical diction, with its shrieking, panting, rumbling sounds constituting a tonal range similar to that of Schoenbergian Sprechgesang is particularly capable of organically interacting with other forms of sound so as to create a single complex sound texture.[13]

          It is undeniable to say that this film reopened the possibility of musical combination between the Western cinematic traditional and Japanese musical tradition. Hayasaka not only juxtaposed Japanese traditional instruments with the Western instruments, but also, he explored the new ways to accompany the storytelling through Geza music, which, as Burch suggested, focuses on the use of “single complex sound texture.”

          The development of Japanese film music and Hayasaka’s music were largely influenced by a film director, Akira Kurosawa. Hayasaka collaborated with Kurosawa for a dozen of films until his sudden death in 1955. With his brother, Kurosawa is considered one of the pioneer film directors who brought Japanese films in the 1950s to global audiences.[14] I believe that Kurosawa’s directorial technique influenced film scoring as well as the cinema production. His directorial method was to begin all scenes as a blank canvas, playing silently, then adding different scenes accordingly. This allowed flexibility and wide range of expression for music. In his jidai-geki, he made economical use of Japanese traditional instruments and gestures during inessential dialogue.[15] Hayasaka and Kurosawa explored together the effective ways to use traditional instruments, sometimes by themselves and at other times combined with Western musical elements.

          Among various films that Hayasaka and Kurosawa worked together, Seven Samurai (1954) is one of the most successful films, being nominated for two Academy Awards.[16]  The music in this film suggests a new approach to film scoring with more extensive use Japanese traditional instruments than collaborations with Mizoguchi. The scene with a shrilly overblown bamboo flute builds tension, in which no other Western instruments. Cooke argues that Seven Samurai demonstrates a creative use of sound effect by Japanese instruments articulating action sequences, instead of musical underscoring and providing the musical “background” in each scene. While there is still some Western influence in the music of this film, such as prominent brass scoring and use of leitmotiv-like elements, the music of Seven Samurai blends the musical characteristics of West and East in Kurosawa’s dramatic and visual style.

          I would like to take Cooke’s idea of “a creative use of sound effect” by Japanese instruments further. In Western music, within its tonal system, one pitch has a relation to another and creates certain form based on relationship. In contrast, Japanese traditional music does not have a tonal system or relationship between the sounds in the same sense as the Western music, but each sound has its own natural sound and exists.[17] For example, one sound from a beat of taiko has a very complex sound, and it completes by itself.[18] There is no harmony nor connections to the next beat, neither there is a sense of steady pulse. Therefore, the silence or Ma after or before the sounds have significant meaning. Ma is not for making each sound stand out, but it is to create the conflicts in between the sound. Hayasaka’s contribution to Japanese film music was not only to bring the style of Geza music, Japanese traditional instruments to the films, but also, his music with his collaboration with Mizoguchi and Kurosawa brought the Japanese “one” sound system exploring the new type of relationship between the sounds and visuals. This concept gave a significant influence on Takemitsu’s music and his approach to film music and beyond.

          Hayasaka passed away young in 1955 at the age of 41. Kurosawa was in search of his new collaborator who was capable of taking Hayasaka’s responsibility. Masaru Sato was born in 1928 and became Hayasaka’s student while working as an assistant to his teacher. Having worked in Kurosawa’s film as an assistant, Kurosawa decided to work with Sato for those films with uncompleted music due to Hayasaka’s death.[19] Sato followed Hayasaka’s path by utilizing Japanese traditional instruments, however, he had a slightly different cross-cultural approach from Hayasaka. Sato included contemporary sound in his film by incorporating electronics and jazz elements, which suggested some influences by Henry Mancini and Lalo Schifrin. These inclusions of electronics and jazz had a big inspiration for Takemitsu’s later film music. One example is Kumonosu Jo (1957), in which Sato combined jazz elements with the traditional sonority of the shamisen during a scene featuring a woman with kimono.[20] In this film, Sato used the sounds that are apparent in the Noh theater, such as shrieking shakuhachi and punctuating taiko drumbeat.

Japanese Experimental Music Scene in 1950s to 1960s

          Before shifting the focus to Toru Takemitsu’s film music and its influence on Japanese music later, I would like to discuss a context prior to when Takemitsu began to write film scores. One of the major elements in forming the new identity of Japanese music, in my opinion, is that Takemitsu brought his background as an experimental composer into film music. In my previous work, I drew connections in the cultural interactions and influences between Cage and Japanese experimentalists after WWII to arrive at my hypothesis that Japanese experimental music scene was not entirely guided by the Western influence largely credited to Cage, but rather, there was a distinct movement of avant-garde music happening in Japan through the networks indirectly to Cage and other Western composers.[21] Instability and anarchy in the political situation in Japan right after the war gave artists freedom for their artistic outputs. This freedom allowed the artists and their activities to form new artist collectives that facilitate to grow experimental music in Japan. A poet, critic, and advocate of surrealism, Shuzo Takiguchi founded the Gikken Kobo (Experimental Workshop) in 1951 with several young artists and musicians. Gikken Kobo was the artistic collective with artists from different disciplines to collaborate on multimedia projects. The members included Toru Takemitsu, Hiroyoshi Suzuki, engineer Hideo Yamazaki, painter Hideko Fukushima, composer Joji Yuasa, and critic/poet Kuniharu Akiyama.

          In my work, “Cage and Japan’s Experimentalism in the Post-WWII,” I also discussed the importance of a hub venue for these artists, including Takemitsu, the Sogetsu Art Center (SAC).  The SAC was built in 1958 in Tokyo Akasaka district for Japanese avant-garde artists and musicians to meet, collaborate, and hold performances and exhibitions.[22] The SAC was home to Sakkyoku Shudan, a group of avant-garde composers, including Takemitsu, Hikaru Hayashi, Toshiro Mayuzumi, Yasushi Akutagawa, Makoto Moroi, Yoriaki Matsudaira, Akira Miyoshi, and Yoshio Mamiya. One of the concerts featured Takemitsu’s brand new work Mizu-no-kyoku (Water Music), which became an influential piece among Sakkyoku Shudan. It was a musique concrète which was entirely built upon the electric sound of water dripping, steam, and rain. This became a foundational piece in Takemitsu’s career as well as other Japanese composers showcasing something opposed to the structured, planned, and organized European musique concrète.[23]

          John Cage made a following remark during his visit to Japan, “the world now has a Japanese music which is universal in character, but which is Japanese and not European’’[24] Cage’s impression on the Japanese music scene in the early 1950s confirms that there was already a sense of “Japaneseness” in experimental music scene which foreshadows a formulation of Japanese identity in the sound.

Toru Takemitsu’s Film Music

          While Toru Takemitsu was active at the Sogetsu Art Center and writing musique concrète work, he was also working as an assistant composer under Hayasaka and Sato in the 1950s. Having background as an experimental composer and being influenced by Hayasaka’s film scores, he is considered as “Second Hayasaka,” extending Japanese cinematic expression in his way. His first film to involve him as a solo composer rather than as an assistant was 1956’s film, Crazed Fruit[25]. This was the first film that had had a title although he co-composed the score of this film with Sato. This film brought Takemitsu’s name into the mainstream of film music industry. According to Takemitsu, Sato wrote the theme song, and Takemitsu scored everything else in the movie. Through Sato’s influence, Takemitsu included the music performed by a jazz band into the film. Moreover, he utilized the sound of Hawaiian band and learned to play the Hawaiian guitar himself. The glissando of the Hawaiian guitar adds a character in the beach scene to create the romantic and erotic atmosphere. This was a sensational film score since there was no film music that incorporated Hawaiian band and jazz band in Japan at that time.

          Takemitsu applied his experience and approach of experimental music production in scoring the film. In 1957, he was one of the rare composers at that time who was refused to enter the mixing room by the film producers and engineers.[26] One engineer criticized the way Takemitsu scored for one of the films as he would score the music that occasionally covers the dialogue. Most of the engineers then had a conservative view about film music determining that no violins should be used in a lower register and should be only used in a higher register, so it does not cover the dialogue. Takemitsu, of course, knew these basic ideas, however, he continued to explore the new ways to use the sound in order to discover new realities between music and film.

          After the initial success as a film composer with Crazed Fruit, he began his collaboration with one of the leading film directors at that time, Masaki Kobayashi. Their collaborative piece, Seppuku or Harakiri (1962) took Japanese cinematic music into the new realm. The film is a jidai-geki that portrays the characters who are violently anti-totalitarian.[27] In this film, Takemitsu used Japanese traditional instruments for the first time in the film score. His inclusion of Biwa, a short-necked lute, and the way he utilized it in this film reminded of the concept of “one” sound that Hayasaka developed in his films earlier. Each stroke Biwa makes and the silences in between the sounds create intensity to express the majesty of samurai and complex emotion of sadness and sweetness.[28] The way Takemitsu creates the silence by waiting each sound of Biwa dies away suggests one of Japanese aesthetic concepts of Monono-Aware, the awareness of impermanence or transience of things.[29] By using some of the Western instruments, such as alto flute, cello, double bass and incorporating electronics and prepared piano from his experimental music, Takemitsu was able to make the sound of Biwa more stand out than using it by itself. Since this film, Takemitsu began to use traditional instruments frequently add an appropriate cultural ambience to his Japanese film score, although he was still hesitant to use traditional instruments in his other experimental music to avoid cultural stereotype.[30] However, John Cage’s interest in Japanese traditional music inspired him to incorporate more of his national heritage in his music later. Takemitsu wrote some years before he passed away:

I must thank Johns Cage, because he shifted my attention to the positive sides of Japanese culture; I had long regarded ‘Japan’ and anything related to it as things that are supposed to be rejected.[31] 

          Masahiro Shinoda was a rookie film director from the Shochiku film company, similar to the rookie film composer Takemitsu. They collaborated on several successful films such as Kawaita Mizuumi (1960) and Ansatsu (1964).[32] Shinoda knew more about music than other older film directors, and this enable Takemitsu push boundaries and attempt more experimental approach to film scoring. Therefore, people often compare the collaboration between Takemitsu and Shinoda with the collaboration between Hayasaka and Kurosawa as both collaborations were constantly searching the new view for music and film.[33]

          One of the most successful films by Shinoda and Takemitsu is Ansatsu. Takemitsu used the prepared piano prominently in this film in addition to Shakuhachi, the bamboo end-blown flute performed by Katsuya Yokoyama, who eventually became the collaborator and the soloist of the premiere of November Steps in 1967. Takemitsu took the concept of “one” sound further in this film as part of the creative sound effect with Shakuhachi in a combination with Western instruments. This film score became the foundation of Eclipse for Shakuhachi and Biwa (1966), which led to the creation of November Steps one year later.[34] In Kawaita Hana (1964), he incorporated the sound of tap dancing when characters were mixing the cards for the bet.[35] Moreover, he asked woodwind players to blow the air into the sound without making certain pitches and make the noises with keys of the instruments. Both Ansatsu and Kawaita Hana demonstrated the shift of Takemitsu’s score from forming melodic lines to support the scene to focusing on the sound instead.

           Takemitsu’s score for Kaidan (1965) established a distinct musical expression in a Jidai-geki film, which seems an important pivotal moment for Japanese film music as well as Japanese music scene in the post-WWII in general. The score in this film showcases multiple aspects of Takemitsu’s musical output as well as “Japaneseness” which foreshadows many musical elements of November Steps. He combines the aspects of musique concrète with Japanese traditional instruments, musical styles, and the use of silence. Takemitsu’s title in this film does not appear as a composer, but as a “musical acoustician.” That is because Takemitsu used tape music and musique concrète for all the sounds in this film.[36] Predominantly, he used prepared piano, Japanese traditional instruments, and other sounds that were generated from objects, such as iron and wood. Takemitsu is considered as the first composer to score a film with only taped music since the sound film was introduced to Japan.

          Kaidan is an anthology horror film that consists of four separated unrelated stories. The first story, “The Black Hair” is filled with unrealistic sounds that are “composed” with prepared piano and electronic alternations.[37] These unrealistic sounds evoke certain fears in a combination with prolonged silence in between the sounds. When the samurai returns to his old, ruined house to see his first wife after having an unsuccessful second marriage, he falls in the hall. The sound of him falling on the wooden ground is not just the sound of wood, but “composed” wooden sound through the electronic modulation. In the film, he meets his old wife and spends the night together, However, next day, she turns into a ghost with long black hair. The samurai realized immediately that she is no longer his wife and rushed to escape from the ghost. As he escapes, the rotten wood breaks due to his weight. One remarkable musical aspect in this scene is that the sound of the broken wood does not synchronize with the pictures. The moment when he falls into the basement, it is silence. After a short pause, the intense sound that comes from broken wood of the floor occurs. This sound is also “composed” through recording the sound of breaking words over and over again and distorting the sound until he finds the sound he is looking for.[38] It highlights an extra dimension space in the staging and creates unrealness in the three dimensions as the drone of Kokyu, a bowed string instrument, adds tension. As sounds and silences that cannot exist in this world are in dialogue with each other, Takemitsu's direction creates an unrealistic world occurring within reality. Takemitsu’s score pours a dense realism into the images, and this mix of reality and fantasy becomes a prominent idea in his later work and that of other Japanese composers.

          In the second story, “The Woman of the Snow,” Takemitsu “composes” the sound of blizzard with Shakuhachi and the stones. He puts both sounds through electronic alternation, such as changing the frequency, editing the recording tapes etc. He does not use the actual sound of wind, but using Shakuhachi and stones, he creates more vivid expressiveness for the sound of blizzard.[39] Takemitsu creates even more vivid expressiveness of the sound of blizzard by creating it with Shakuhachi and stones than using the actual sound of wind. The third story, “The Hoichi the Earless” is a story about the blind Biwa Master, Hoichi. The opening scene has an extensive passage by Biwa as the storyteller gives a background story about the fight between Heike and Genji. This music was co-composed and performed by Kinshi Tsuruta, who eventually became the soloist of the premiere of November Steps with the Shakuhachi player, Katsuya Yokoyama.[40] A remarkable aspect of the music in this story is the sound of wave. As in the sound of blizzard from “The Woman of the Snow,” Takemitsu “composed” the sound of wave with human voice. Takemitsu handed his score to Noh actors, asked them to try various way of singing, and record them. Afterwords, he put those recordings through electronic alternation to create the sound of wave and add motion to the sound without using the actual sound of wave. In the fighting scene with ghosts of the fourth story, “In a Cup of Tea,” Takemitsu used the fugtozato (thick necked) Shamisen and short shouts to create the expression of Bunraku, a puppet theater with accompaniment by Shamisen.[41] Again, all the sounds in this fighting scene are taped and altered electronically. The result of these sounds in Kaidan is the creation of the sound that you cannot express through natural sound with complex resonance that evokes various human emotion. It is undeniable to say that Takemitsu did not only write music for the film, but also, he “hears” each sound that is put into the picture.

Film Music to November Steps

          As I mentioned earlier, I came to my conclusion, in my previous research, that 1967’s November Steps by Toru Takemitsu is a significant piece of music that represents and demonstrates the possibility of the new Japanese identity in music. The piece portrays a potential for Japanese musical tradition and Western musical tradition to coexist and create something new. In the final section of my paper, I would like to draw the connection between Takemitsu’s film music and his November Steps by discussing four main elements to showcase how Takemitsu utilized his experiment and experiences in film music for the creation of November Steps. Compositional tools and concepts he developed through composing music for films had a significant influence on the composition of November Steps, thus for creating his own voice as a composer, and other Japanese composers who followed him.

          The first element of the connection between Takemitsu’s film music and his November Steps is the concept of “one” sound and ma. As I discussed earlier, Hayasaka explored the new approach and use of Japanese traditional instruments and Western instruments by focusing on one single sound rather than using melodic lines and harmony in the Western tonal setting. Sato and Takemitsu took this concept further to find a new reality in the connection between music and film by bringing other musical influences, such as jazz and musique concrète. Takemitsu described on a single sound of Biwa[42] in his essay, “a single strum of the strings or even one pluck is too complex, too complete in itself to admit any theory.”[43] In the music and aesthetic concept of Shakuhachi, there is a notion of Ichion Jobutsu, which means that one becomes the Buddha with one sound suggesting that every note and every space between the notes has equal importance to every other.[44] A master Shakuhachi player attempts to reproduce the sound of wind in a decaying bamboo grove, and its ultimate expressiveness is heard from the very beginning of the sound until the very end of silence as the wind in the bamboo grove approaches the nothingness.[45] This approach to the sound is not often found in traditional Western musical approach as Western ears seek for beauty in its tone. As opposed to Western notion of beauty, in-tune, refined, beautiful tones, and each pitch is perfectly structured in a tonal relation to another, film composers like Takemitsu pursued more complex sounds being inspired by the experimental music and Japanese concept of “one” sound through utilizing the unique sounds of Japanese traditional music, prepared piano and musique concrète. Takemitsu’s long-time collaborator, Shinoda expressed his thought about Takemitsu’s core:

Takemitsu does not compose music for the films, but film is the meeting point for the sound, music, and the words. Sometimes, I am surrounded by the calmness that I felt I heard nothing in Takemitsu’s score.[46]

          The focus on a single sound and silence in between is prominently showcased in November Steps and later works by Takemitsu. However, this is not to say Takemitsu and other composers had one way or another. Takemitsu’s film scores have two distinct types: new style, using “one” sound in a relation to the picture as seen in his score of Kaidan and Seppuku, and the music with lyrical, melodic line in a combination with jazz and chanson as seen in his score of Jose Torres (1959).[47]

          The second element of musical influences of Takemitsu’s film scores on November Steps is the use of contradiction in his music. In this essay, Takemitsu wrote:

I think, however, the better the movie there greater the number of contradictions. They are the contradictions of reality. As long as those contradictions exist- and they will be present because music has been added- I regard it as my duty to strengthen them.[48] 

          I argue that this notion was particularly present in Kaidan through the use of “composed” sounds and the unique way of creating three dimensions to portray unrealism. As I discussed earlier, in this film, Takemitsu created unrealistic sounds with several Japanese traditional instruments and musical form, such as Noh. Through film scoring, Takemitsu was able to experiment and seek another phase of expression of Japanese traditional instruments. He was able to utilize the skills and experiences he gained in Gikken Kobo and at the Sogetsu Art Center as well as his interaction with John Cage in the film score and created the sounds that align with the complex emotion and effect of the characters in the film. While November Steps does not utilize musique concrète, the illusional sounds of the orchestra are prominent through the clustered chords underneath Shakuhachi and Biwa to provoke complex emotional impact.

          The last element to discuss on common threads of Takemitsu’s film music and November Step is the idea of relationship between East and West. On the surface, this might be rather an obvious element as we see Japanese traditional instruments in both Takemitsu’s film scores after Seppuku and November Steps, however, I believe there is more in depth regarding the relationship between Japan and West. In his essay, Takemitsu wrote:

In working with Japanese performers, I often feel that they think discovering sounds more significant than expressing by sounds. Japanese “ounce” more meaning in listening to the innate quality of sound rather than in using sound as a means of expression. To them natural sound or noise was not a resource for personal expression but a reflection of the world.[49]

          Here, he contrasts the Western aesthetic ideas and expression to strive beauty by eliminating noise with Japanese approach to nature. Takemitsu also discusses the origin of the word “naturally” (shizen), which comes from the prefix “futo” - meaning “by chance” or “if you happen to” highlighting that, to Japanese people, nature is not something that confronts humans, but it is something one encounters by chance. This element, I believe, seems to have a close connection to the idea of “one” sound. Even the single sound that is heard in one scene in Kaidan is not considered as a beautiful sound, and rather it is potentially considered as noise by Western ears, if one hears it as “the innate quality of sound,” it has a potential to capture the subject of the film. In fact, this sound can be even produced by Western instruments. Takemitsu sometimes juxtaposed the differences between East and West, but to provoke certain emotional impacts, it did not matter to him which instruments he would use. Apart from the inclusion of Japanese traditional instruments in the Western Orchestra, November Steps also portrays the differences between East and West. The piece creates the natural sound and noise as a reflection of the world through Shakuhachi and Biwa. For the certain passages, Takemitsu asks the Shakuhachi player to add muraiki[50], in which a player blows strong and uneven breath to create breathy sound.[51] In addition, Takemitsu notated a technique of sawari to produce a raspy tone quality for the Biwa player. Takemitsu and other Japanese composers cherish these “noises” to achieve certain sounds in a connection to nature.

Conclusion – Japanese Own Voice

          Through this research, I discovered my original hypothesis was not necessarily the case. Japanese composers started incorporating traditional instruments and aesthetics into their own work as an extension of their artistic medium, not to highlight or form their nationalism. Three film composers, Hayasaka, Sato, and Takemitsu pursued the new reality of relationship between music and film and widen the musical expression to formulate multi-angle “Japaneseness.” Hayasaka opened the new possibility of expression in fusion of Western music and Japanese music. Then, Sato took it to the next step by incorporating his jazz and electronic music idiom. Finally, Takemitsu who studied with these two combined his film music with his background as an experimental composer. Some of the characteristics that are seen in Takemitsu’s early film scores can be found in his November Steps, such as the concept of “one” sound and ma, the “composed” sound of unrealism, and the new relationship between East and West. I argue that these underlining musical elements from films scores are some of the remarkable musical resources that made November Steps a significant piece of music that broaden the musical expression for Japanese composers as well as composers around the globe.

          Another discovery through this research is that the natural place for Japanese composers from 1950s and 1960s to experiment with traditional musical elements was in the film, particularly, in Jidai-geki, where cultural and musical relationship plays an important role. Through these experiments in Jidai-geki and its international attention, composers grew their interest in the fusion and juxtaposition of West and East.  While European and American composers’ influences were important elements in the development of Japan’s music in the post-WWII, however, Japanese composers found their own identity through the film scores by incorporating Japanese traditional musical elements as part of their musical output, but not limited to nor using it in a sense of nationalistic musical formation.

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IMDb. “Fumio Hayasaka | Composer, Writer, Music Department.” IMDb. Accessed April 2, 2025. https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0370593/.

IMDb. “Masaru Satô | Composer, Music Department, Soundtrack.” IMDb. Accessed April 3, 2025. https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0766496/.

Kobayashi, Atsushi. “Toru Takemitsu.” Essay. In Giants of Japanese Film Music 1, 1:139–93. Shinjuku, Tokyo: Waizu, 2001.

Koozin, Timothy. “Expressive Meaning and Historical Grounding in the Film Music of Fumio Hayasaka and Toru Takemitsu.” Journal of Film Music 3, no. 1 (December 22, 2010): 5–17. https://doi.org/10.1558/jfm.v3i1.5.

Larson, Jeremy D. “How John Cage Inspired Tōru Takemitsu to Embrace Japan.” Red Bull Music Academy Daily, February 14, 2017. https://daily.redbullmusicacademy.com/2017/02/cage-and-takemitsu-feature.

Macdonald, Fiona. “Seven Words That Can Help Us to Be a Little Calmer.” BBC News, February 24, 2022. https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20190124-seven-words-that-can-help-us-to-be-a-little-calmer.

Sudo, Philip Toshio, and Ben Sherman. Zen Guitar. New York, NY: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, an imprint of Simon & Schuster, Inc, 2017.

Takemitsu, Toru. “A Single Sound.” Essay. In Confronting Silence, 51–52. Berkeley, CA: Fallen Leaf Press, 1995.

Takemitsu, Toru. “The Distance from Ud to Biwa.” Essay. In Confronting Silence, 53–55. Berkeley, CA: Fallen Leaf Press, 1995.

[1] Akiyama, Kuniharu. “Fumio Hayasaka No. 3.” Essay. In People Who Shaped the History of Japanese Film Music/The Genealogy of Animated Films. 2021. 180

[2] Binns, Alexander. “‘Sounding’ Japanese.” The Routledge Companion to Screen Music and Sound, 428–39. 2017. 4.

[3] Akiyama, 181.

[4] Cooke, Mervyn. “Global Highlights.” Essay. In A History of Film Music, 342–95. 2008. 383.

[5] Takemitsu, Toru. “The Distance from Ud to Biwa.” Essay. In Confronting Silence, 53–55. 1995. 53.

[6] Fujiwara, Masao. “Musicians in Post-War Japanese Film Industry.” 2016, 77–88. 78.

[7] IMDb. “Fumio Hayasaka | Composer, Writer, Music Department.” IMDb.

[8] Koozin, Timothy. “Expressive Meaning and Historical Grounding in the Film Music of Fumio Hayasaka and Toru Takemitsu.” 2010. 5–17. 6.

[9] Cooke, 383.

[10] Akiyama, 181.

[11] Akiyama, 182.

[12] Cooke, 384.

[13] Cooke, 384.

[14] Cooke, 385.

[15] Cooke, 385.

[16] Cooke, 387.

[17] Akiyama, 185.

[18] To demonstrate the complex sound of Taiko, here is the link to the example of the sound of Taiko: https://youtu.be/QuDFEnuHAq0?si=fpXVBnvKC0EDuuTZ

[19] Cooke, 388.

[20] Cooke, 389.

[21] Hasegawa, Ryo. “Cage and Japan’s Experimentalism in the Post-WWII.” 2024.

[22] Everett, Yayoi Uno. “9 ‘Scream against the Sky.’” Sound Commitments, April 1, 2009, 193.

[23] Fukunaka, Fuyuko. “World Music History and Interculturality: Toward Recontextualizing Post-War Japanese Avant-Garde Music.” (2017): 59–71.

[24] Cage, John. 2004. “Contemporary Japanese Music: A Lecture by John Cage.” In Locating East Asia in Western Art Music, 193–98.

[25] Akiyama, 100.

[26] Akiyama, 102.

[27] Cooke, 391.

[28] Akiyama, 153.

[29] Macdonald, Fiona. “Seven Words That Can Help Us to Be a Little Calmer.” 2022.

[30] Cooke, 392.

[31] Larson, Jeremy D. “How John Cage Inspired Tōru Takemitsu to Embrace Japan.” 2017.

[32] Akiyama, 103.

[33] Akiyama, 104.

[34] Kobayashi, Atsushi. “Toru Takemitsu.” Essay. In Giants of Japanese Film Music 1, 139–93. Tokyo.150.

[35] Akiyama, 103.

[36] Kobayashi, 157.

[37] Kobayashi, 161.

[38] Akiyama, 140.

[39] Akiyama, 141.

[40] Akiyama, 142.

[41] Akiyama, 143.

[42] To demonstrate the sound of Biwa, here is the link to one of the performances: https://youtu.be/xyUVT8sas6g?si=Tt9pdh_I8PofM3Jr

[43] Takemitsu, Toru. “A Single Sound.” Essay. In Confronting Silence, 51–52.1995. 51.

[44] Sudo, Philip Toshio, and Ben Sherman. Zen Guitar. 2017. 170.

[45] Takemitsu, 52.

[46] Kobayashi, 152.

[47] Akiyama, 105.

[48] Takemitsu, 36.

[49] Takemitsu, 56.

[50] Here is the link to the example of muraikiI: https://youtu.be/ILa3iguNL3U?si=PdsWw5hlf5lyzH6K&t=363

[51] Hasegawa, Ryo. “Exploring Music Cognition and Perception in Tōru Takemitsu’s November Steps.”