Musica che affronta il silenzio - Scritti su Toru Takemitsu - Pavia ...

How Japanese Was Takemitsu? And Is It Important to
Ask This Question?
Peter Burt
In order to understand the first question better, I would like to begin with a little thought
experiment. I would like you, ladies and gentlemen, to imagine a famous Italian
composer of the post-war period – for example, Luciano Berio. Now then, Berio goes to
Tokyo and enters a record shop, where he sees a Japanese record of his own music. But
what he sees shocks him. On the record sleeve are images of typical ‘Italian’ stereotypes
– the Colosseum, spaghetti, a bottle of Chianti, etc. How does Berio feel? Yes, of course,
he feels insulted, perhaps he becomes really angry. He has been reduced to clichés – he
and his music have not been received as they actually are, but only as representations of
an exotic culture, an imagined ‘Italy’.
This – as I said – is only a thought experiment: it has never really happened. But what I
am going to describe now did really happen, in 1971. In this year Tru Takemitsu went to
France to attend the “Journées de Musique Contemporaine” of the “Semaines Musicales
Internationales de Paris”; and, a little later, he wrote the following in one of his books:
A few days ago, staying in Paris, I saw the French version of a record of my music
which is sold in the United States. But on the record sleeve – albeit transformed by
means of a certain abstraction – had been printed a mountain which clearly resembled
Fujiyama, with a background composed of figures which – to judge from their hairstyles,
etc. – seemed to be maiko [type of Japanese geisha]. (Takemitsu 1971: 198)
How does Takemitsu feel? Yes, of course, like Berio he too feels insulted:
I discovered this in a record shop together with my French composer friends, and at
the time […]. I felt disappointed, to find that my music, too, had been received only
in this manner. And, with these friends who had no responsibility at all for this
matter […]. I accused the record company of excessive commercialism. (Takemitsu
1971: 198)