HEERA ALAYA

IN CONVERSATION

“A core aspect of my life involves introspection—
engaging in dialogue with myself and responding to my creations and instrument.”

YUMI KUROSAWA
Japanese Soloist and composer, USA

August 28th, 2022

Japanese koto virtuoso Yumi Kurosawa embarked on her musical journey at the tender age of three, learning to play Japan’s national stringed instrument, the koto, under the tutelage of her parents, both accomplished koto players. Ms Kurosawa’s performances are characterised by their rich, layered sound, blending full-bodied and meditative notes delivered with both grace and strength. The synthesis of various instruments in her work creates an immersive listening experience. Ms Kurosawa has been commissioned as a soloist and composer by prestigious institutions such as the Smithsonian Museum and Houston Ballet.

Heera Alaya: Please walk me through your journey—starting at a young age—of discovering Japan’s national instrument, the koto, and your interest in learning it.

Yumi Kurosawa: I began learning koto when I was three years old, as my parents were both professional koto players and teachers

Did specific intrinsic qualities contribute to your affinity for the koto?

Though I started naturally—because my parents are professional koto players—I was often against the koto.

What do you think caused that resistance?

It was largely a typical dynamic between parents and children. We sometimes argued about the conditions my parents set, and I was not too fond of practising the koto. However, my parents recognised that I had a talent for the koto, so I continued. Over time, I grew to appreciate the koto and its music.

How often do you practice the koto?

It depends on what I have scheduled, but I make it a point to practice every day.

I read: “Koto’s sound depends on the density and water content of paulownia wood (known as kiri).” Is that true?

Yes, the instrument must be made of paulownia wood; otherwise, the koto cannot produce the required sound. My father used to build the koto from scratch. I recall my father saying that Kiri for the koto has to be of good weight, not too light, not too heavy, and that the wood must have beautiful grain; that’s how we determine which wood will be suitable for making a high-quality koto. The sound of the instrument is influenced by both the quality of the wood and the craftsmanship involved in its construction.

What is the history of the koto?

The koto has a history spanning more than 1300 years and originated as a tool for training monks and medical practitioners to enhance their inner strength and concentration. Creating the perfect sound is difficult, so monks and medical doctors played the koto to stay focused.

Over time, the koto evolved into an educational instrument for the aristocratic society, eventually becoming a cultural artefact. Before the koto appeared in Japan, a koto-like string instrument was used for prayer, serving as a messenger to god.

You mentioned the spiritual origins of the koto. Experiencing your music is a spiritual experience that connects us to the instrument’s roots.

Oh great. Thank you.

You’re welcome.

Is Paulownia wood, which is indigenous to Asia, adaptable to various climates?

Historically, paulownia wood holds great significance in Japan. When daughters marry, parents send them off with Kiri wood chests (with drawers). Kiri wood holds well in many climates, and various varieties can be sourced from Canada, New Zealand, China, the U.S.A., and Japan. The finest kiri wood for koto comes from Aizu, Japan. Kiri wood from colder regions (Canada and Hokkaido, northern Japan) is harder than that from warmer regions, which we need for the koto.

Does your koto require special care?

Koto is a delicate instrument requiring meticulous care. Ideally, if I lived in Japan, specialists would restring my koto once in three months, but since I am based in New York, that isn’t feasible. My brother, a specialist in maintaining koto, shamisen, and other traditional instruments, visits me yearly and restrings my koto.

How do you transport your koto?

I use a specific koto for concerts (not practice) and check it in a flight case. Airlines have misplaced my concert koto nearly 10 times, but it has always been returned safely.

Do you have a backup koto? What would you do if it got lost?

I do [have a backup koto]. But when I travel, I don’t check in two kotos; if my koto gets lost, I can’t do much about it.

The range of koto strings ranges from 13 to 21. Does scaling up—the number of strings—have benefits?

Yes, scaling up the number of strings allows for broader compositional possibilities. Minoru Miki, a composer, and Keiko Nosaka, a koto player, invented the 21-string koto in 1969, as he wanted to have a more expansive musical scale. I play the 13-string and 21-string koto (also the 17-string koto), with my preference being the latter.

Why do you constantly adjust the bridges during your concert?

Even though I have a 21-string koto, I have to create music with a limited number of strings, so I have to adjust the tuning by moving the bridges.

Compared to the piano, which has 88 keys, the koto is limited by musical scale. Instead of adding more strings, we move bridges to adjust the tuning.

Your performance and movements are poetic, yet they also showcase your strength as you play the 21-string koto.

Yes, that is correct (requiring strength to play the koto). I must be strong, so I do yoga and Pilates twice daily.

You took the words right out of my mouth—I was going to ask you if your craft demands elongating and core-strengthening exercises like Pilates and yoga.

Yes, Pilates gives me the inner core strength, which works well for me.

Are you able to practice Pilates and yoga while travelling?

I practice yoga and Pilates twice a day, no matter where I am.

Wow! That’s discipline.

Not really. Music has been my discipline since I was a child, but I want my practice of Yoga and Pilates to be enjoyable and to help me calm down.

That’s a refreshing perspective. I hadn’t considered yoga and Pilates solely in the context of joy.

Do you change your compositions, say, quarterly or biannually?

I don’t have a set plan for switching compositions for concerts, but I do update the concert program whenever a few new pieces are ready that fit well with the overall theme.

Is there a particular setting or environment that enhances your creative process?

I would love to be by the ocean or at the beach.

Wouldn’t that be lovely!

Yes. In the city, I work on compositions for various assignments, including projects for The Freer Gallery. I created three new pieces for a specific Japanese artwork, the “Mind over Matter” project. I typically begin with the image and story, which inspire me to develop melodies and sounds.

How fascinating. I have always wondered how composers write music.

You fuse music and cultures. How do you select your accompanying musicians?  

My trio consists of a fixed lineup: a violinist and a percussionist.   Occasionally, I have to create a unique ensemble for a specific concert. When I am commissioned, let’s say, by the Freer Gallery [The Freer Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.] to celebrate a Japanese artist, I consider specific aspects of the artist’s life and work. Since this artist was also influenced by Chinese art, I included a Chinese flute in the ensemble.

What does the process of musical brainstorming with other musicians involve?

I have two positions—I am a koto player and a composer; I also have to lead my musicians. When I start working with new musicians, in addition to explaining the concept and the music I desire, it’s equally important for me to listen to them—not just to their sound or music, but to get to know them as individuals.

Why is listening essential?

I teach at a few academic institutions, and I recognise that my students have their own lives with different interests. I try to learn what is going on in their life. It doesn’t mean I talk to the students or ask them many questions, but I try to figure them out in my mind. This allows me to either provide indirect support or remain silent when necessary. I also apply this understanding approach to my musicians, as I want everyone to feel well and happy.

Is there any pronounced difference between performing solo and performing with other musicians?

Yes, it’s very different [performing alone versus performing with other musicians]. In a solo performance, I can focus entirely on myself as an artist. In contrast, performing in an ensemble requires teamwork, where I must lead my fellow musicians to deliver the best performance. I appreciate both experiences, as each fulfils different aspects of my identity as an artist and as a person.

It’s akin to the difference between trekking alone, where you are aware of your own rhythm and stamina, and leading a group trek, which requires considering each individual’s unique abilities and needs.

Yes.

What does it take to put together a performance?

The preparation for performance begins when I compose music, keeping the other musicians in mind. I usually have deadlines, so I work backwards, calculating the number of days we [musicians] have to rehearse and the practice sessions we need at the venue before the concert.

Do you follow a specific process for composing your music, or do you write original scores for commissioned works, such as for The Freer?

When I receive a commission, organisations provide me with a theme or concept. For instance, when I was offered a new project by The Freer last year (2021), I was tasked with composing three musical pieces for three specific artworks. I learnt about and researched these arts, then composed the music. On the other hand, when I write new music for my projects, I begin by exploring and choosing concepts or stories before diving into the composition process.

How do you approach each performance?

Having played the koto since I was three, my body and mind naturally prepare for performances and tours as soon as dates are scheduled.

It’s instinctive.

Yes.

Besides your instincts, do you meditate or have a cup of tea?

I go back and forth between being busy and needing to recharge. When things get hectic, I recognise the need for a break. I step outside and strive to clear my mind to reset.

Have you ever found yourself distracted? If so, how do you regain your focus?

I’m human, so I’m not immune to distractions, but as a performer, I need to maintain control. Each day presents its own challenges—whether it’s a health issue or something else—and it’s essential to train myself to stay focused during concerts and recording sessions.

How do you unwind between performances? Is detachment crucial for your creativity?

Being a composer is quite different from being a performer. The pace can be overwhelming when juggling composition and rehearsal for other concerts. However, I’ve learned to take breaks, setting aside a few hours for composition before shifting my mood to practice or vice versa.

Do you have other interests that help balance out the time-consuming nature of your musical pursuits?

I may be too deeply immersed in music. Even when I’m not practising or composing, my mind often drifts back to it.  Also, we all have to deal with other things every day. When time permits, I try to paint (I love art.). Additionally, meeting new people serves as a source of inspiration.

How far in advance do you typically plan your performances?

I usually plan one to two years ahead.

What is your philosophy regarding life and music?

Music is integral to my existence. A core aspect of my life involves introspection—engaging in dialogue with myself and responding to my creations and instrument. This reflective process provides clarity on various elements of my life.

Thank you, Yumi. It’s been a pleasure speaking with you.

And thank you for coming to my concert.

Learn more about Yumi Kurosawa.

Documentary Filmmaker, USA