Osaka Station and Umeda Green City, just after 4 p.m. on July 8, 2026.

On an afternoon when the rainy-season sky had cleared, the heart of Osaka stood in a bright, transparent light.
The vast architecture of Osaka Station, the ceaseless movement of people, the high-rise buildings of Umeda, and the greenery breathing at the center of the city.
There breathed the vitality of Osaka, Japan’s western capital and one of the world’s great metropolises, in a country where, as divine providence, “the Turntable of Civilization” is turning.

The music is the second movement of Takashi Yoshimatsu’s Bassoon Concerto, Unicorn Circuit.

There is a human warmth in the voice of the bassoon.
Deep, gentle, at times almost humorous, and yet always leading the listener toward a realm of quiet fantasy.
The transparent lyricism flowing through Yoshimatsu’s music merged, with astonishing naturalness, with the afternoon light of Osaka waiting for the end of the rainy season.

The scenery of Osaka Station and Umeda Green City is not composed merely of steel, glass, and concrete.
There are the hours of people’s lives, the sky, the greenery, and the countless presences of those who live within the city.
Even inside the massive structures of the metropolis, there is a quiet breathing.
Music makes that breathing visible.

This work records Osaka just after 4 p.m. on July 8, 2026, exactly as it was.
Yet at the same time, it is a portrait of a city, and an image of Japan today illuminated by music.

Through the fantastical circuit drawn by the second movement of Yoshimatsu’s Unicorn Circuit, the scenery of Umeda, while remaining a real city, begins to appear like a city floating in a dream.
In the midst of civilization, there is a quiet poem.
In the midst of human life, there is music.
And into an Osaka afternoon, a single ray of light is falling.