[Gagakutan: Side Note ①]

2024.08.18

This is an excerpt from a conversation with Mr. Taro regarding "Gagaku" and "traditional music." Please enjoy these anecdotes, which may or may not be related to Gagaku, and the topics that arose during our lively discussion.

Taro (hereafter, T): Gagaku is often called "the world's oldest orchestra." When it was introduced to Japan and underwent modifications, it became an ensemble of 16 to nearly 20 people. Such large-scale performances didn’t exist at the time.

Me (Aoyagi): Why do you think they performed with such a large group? Was it to demonstrate power, authority, or perhaps reverence for the gods and Buddha through numbers?

T: I think it's similar to the junihitoe (twelve-layered ceremonial kimono). The jūnihitoe consists of layering several thin kimonos on top of each other. Gagaku also layers thin sounds, stacking them one on top of the other. Sometimes, the sound is so faint you can barely tell it's there. Maybe they wanted to layer the sounds lightly.

Me: There might have been meaning in the act of layering. But it’s different from how classical orchestras layer their music with precise vertical alignment. The idea of "not aligning perfectly" is intriguing. It feels connected to modern concepts of embracing diversity.

T: Exactly! Nowadays, things are often too rigidly categorized—men and women, jobs, medicine, art, politics. It can make things tough for some people. I've been thinking a lot recently that while the modern world has compartmentalized so many aspects of life, maybe the time for fusion will come again. Maybe "dividing to understand" will take another step forward.

Me: Each person has their own layers too, just like the junihitoe.

T: Well said! You're wrapping things up nicely (laughs).

Me: (laughs) But truly, I want to convey those meanings and thoughts to younger generations through Gagaku.

T: I do too. I want to tell them, "You don't have to feel like life is so difficult."