This is the inaugural issue of MusicStory.
While we usually present contemporary music and art in pairs,
for this very first piece, please allow me to share my own story.
The Day I Took a Detour
In the autumn of 2017. On my way home from school, I took a detour with friends to the National Museum of Art, Osaka, in Nakanoshima.
Although detours were forbidden back then, I eagerly followed when invited to go.
We entered the museum still in our school uniforms.
There, I encountered Bruegel's 'The Tower of Babel'.
A colossal spiral tower seemed to pierce through the clouds.
Countless people clung to its walls, each engaged in their own tasks.
Everyone was desperately building something, even though they didn't know if it would ever be completed.
I wondered why I was so drawn to it.
Unable to articulate my feelings, I simply gazed at it.
That was the first day I ever visited an art museum.
When Music Was No Longer Joyful
Several years later, I found myself alone in Weimar, Germany.
It was after failing my university entrance exams. Unsure whether to try again or pursue a different path, I applied for a masterclass and boarded a plane.
At that time, I had lost my joy in music.
Competitions, exams, evaluations, rankings…
Before I knew it, music had become a constant 'battleground'.
Every time I played, I compared myself to others, and every time, I was confronted with my own shortcomings.
I constantly wondered, 'Was music always this painful?'
During a class concert.
A girl from Denmark began to play Mozart's 'Violin Concerto No. 5'.
With the very first note, something shifted.
She was simply enjoying the music.
On stage, she played with true freedom and joy.
'Music can be this free,' I realized.
The tension in my shoulders suddenly eased, and the world seemed a little brighter.
The Impulse to Create
