Ryuichi Sakamoto: Staying Curious
February 14, 2021
My friend Jon introduced me to the work of Ryuichi Sakamoto, which sent me down a deep, winding musical rabbit hole of inspiration.
For starters, Sakamoto is a living legend. Now 69, he has been making music since the 70’s, and has spent time exploring many different regions of the musical landscape. From his synth-pop origins with Yellow Magic Orchestra (where he was covered by Michael Jackson and Eric Clapton) he followed a long, creatively diverse, highly collaborative musical path, recording scores of albums, and scoring even more films, earlier being The Last Emperor (1987) and more recently, The Revenant. Most recently, he released a video performance titled Playing the Piano for the Isolated, which is also pretty incredible. Sakamoto is the real deal.
What pulled me in initially was a New York Times article about how he made a playlist for a restaurant that he frequents in Midtown. It seems so obvious that the music that is played in a restaurant should be as thoughtful and considered as the food — it’s part of the experience. But so many restaurants miss the mark. Food can create emotion, as can music, and the lighting, and the surroundings. Shouldn’t they all work in concert to deliver a memorable, intentional experience? Of course, the Kajitsu playlist didn’t include any of his own music, just the work of others that he appreciated.
After reading the NYT piece, I was obsessed with learning more, and knew I had to watch the documentary Jon recommended about Sakamoto, titled Coda. This film pretty much blew my mind. He’s an intensely committed artist in the truest sense — following his curiosity down strange and unexpected avenues, and clearly finding so much delight in that process. For Coda, he seeks out a “drowned piano” in Fukushima that the tsunami had fully submerged — a warped, twisted, out-of-tune piece of musical tragedy. And there is a shot of him standing outside in the rain with a plastic bucket on his head, that destroyed me. He is fully tapped in to his curiosity and along for the ride, which is so inspiring to watch. And even more inspiring to listen to and experience. It almost makes me want to watch (endure, really) The Revenant again. Almost.
He also seems to genuinely care about other people and the planet and works to make a difference by sharing his views. He just seems like an all around exemplary soul, and an excellent role model for any aspiring artist. Or human. Furthermore, after being diagnosed with and fighting off cancer in 2014 (which is covered in the documentary) Sakamoto announced in January of this year that the cancer has returned.
The morning after watching Coda, I went for a long ski up the mountain, and for my headphone soundtrack decided to go all Sakamoto, all the way to the top. I left the bottom with Thousand Knives of (1978), then about halfway up the mountain, it was Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence (1983), and near the top, I made it halfway through Cendre, his collab with Fennesz from 2007.
I only made it halfway through Cendre because between being surrounded by and very grateful for the stunningly beautiful snowy alpine landscape, and being so moved by his music, and then thinking about Sakamoto and his first battle with cancer, and now his second (and maybe final) battle with cancer, and knowing that someday he will no longer be able to make music, I lost it. I stopped, turned the music off, and stood there on the mountain and cried.
I wondered about what his mornings are like, knowing that his days may be very numbered. The thing he loves most is going to be taken from him. Soon. It breaks my heart.