The shamisen part, improvisational throughout, and the rhythm section, with its irregular alternations of stagnation and change, intertwine to create “Garden of the Echigo Lion.” This piece evokes a Japanese sensibility while simultaneously possessing a somewhat international, borderless character.
The composer explains: “In this piece, I explored my own approach to temporal structure through the interplay between shamisen variations and the rhythm section. I consciously tried to confront my own sense of time, avoiding pre-existing formal frameworks like the typical ‘intro-verse-chorus’ structure or ternary form.”
A readily apparent characteristic of this piece, stemming from this approach of confronting his own sense of time, is the deliberate avoidance of distinct melodies. Instruments like the shamisen and flute might lead one to expect melodic phrases, yet, with the exception of a few shamisen passages, the performance remains steadfastly improvisational. Furthermore, the rhythm section, comprising percussion and bass, often repeats specific patterns, intentionally creating a sense of limited variation. For a considerable time after the piece begins, there are no harmonic changes, and time flows within the resonance of a single chord, devoid of clear melodies or significant rhythmic shifts. This approach guides the listener to focus not on specific melodies or rhythmic patterns, but rather on the “changes and transitions in the overall mood.”
The first significant change occurs 40 seconds into the piece. The preceding rhythm section ceases, and an ethereal, atmospheric rhythm, primarily composed of processed sound effects, takes over. The shamisen, continuing its improvisation, initially sounds somewhat ungrounded, as if left behind. However, a vocal part soon joins, as if to support the shamisen. The musical backdrop is thus constructed by these two contrasting rhythmic elements: the fundamental rhythmic pattern and the alternative, effect-laden soundscape. These elements sometimes switch to mark scene changes, and at other times overlap to create a sense of gradation, all while the shamisen improvises freely against this backdrop.
Then, at 4 minutes and 40 seconds, well past the midpoint, the atmosphere shifts subtly as the shamisen and vocals tentatively begin to play a melody. The two parts are not so much contrapuntal as they are interwoven, “close yet separate,” as they resonate together. This melodic interlude is brief; as if snapping back to reality, the music returns to an improvisational and rhythmic flow, heading towards its conclusion.
The piece ends with an abrupt full stop. A soft synthesizer pad fills the space, and just as a chord hinting at a completely different atmosphere emerges, the music is suddenly cut off.
While “Garden of the Echigo Lion” might initially seem elusive, by focusing on the changes and transitions in its overall mood, listeners can experience a unique musical sense of time. The composer aptly describes this intention: “During composition, I was contemplating the sense of stillness (or stagnation) akin to the ‘sensation of the moon following you’ when walking and looking up at it, and the contrasting gap (or sense of disconnect) experienced when ‘lowering your gaze to observe the changing scenery around you.'”
If this intention is successfully reflected in the work, listeners might experience a sense of surprise, similar to suddenly realizing one has been accompanied to a distant place by an unseen presence. This could also evoke a sense of unease or even trepidation.
The “Echigo Lion” in the title refers to a traditional young boys’ lion dance (Shonen Shishimai), a local folk art from Niigata Prefecture, Japan. During the Edo period, children who lost their families due to famine or other hardships were taught these street performances as a means of survival.
Understanding the meaning behind such a title may lend deeper significance to the image of someone gazing at the moon, and the realization of having “traveled a long way without noticing.” By using the title’s meaning as an interpretive aid to what the music directly conveys, one might more profoundly appreciate the unique temporal experience offered by this piece.
