March 8, 2026, was the day when Murata Natsuho and Igarashi Kaoruko achieved a historic performance at Musashino Civic Cultural Hall.
That morning, from the room of the hotel where I was staying, a magnificent Mt. Fuji appeared, as if it were an auspicious sign.
Making full use of the high performance of the Sony α1, I cropped that image of Mt. Fuji and uploaded it into this work.
After breakfast, I headed to St. Mary’s Cathedral designed by Tange Kenzo.
Its greatness goes without saying.
Moreover, Sunday Mass began, and I joined it as it was.
It was my first Mass in my life.
Before the Mass began, the choir was rehearsing at the side with organ accompaniment.
I noticed the quality of the sound and investigated the large speakers.
To my surprise, they were KAWAI.
It was my first time hearing them.
Soon the Mass began.
I was not someone who had kept singing in Kitashinchi for nothing, and so I joined in with a splendid voice in response to the pipe organ.
After enjoying it from the bottom of my heart, I went outside.
I photographed the plum blossoms, or perhaps Kawazu-zakura, blooming at the entrance of the building in front of me.
And astonishingly, right in front of the cathedral was Chinzanso, the very next destination I had planned to visit.
The recital by the two artists that began at seven that night was by no means exaggerated if one called it the joint appearance, even the contest, of a second coming of Heifetz and a second coming of Glenn Gould.
I sat in the very center of the front row.
Since the violin was sounding right in front of me, it was only natural that it was magnificent.
Yet I know no other hall in which the piano resounded so splendidly.
At the same time, I thought that the resonance of the violin might also be the finest in Japan.
Musashino Civic Cultural Hall possesses a striking ceiling height and outstanding acoustical effect, made possible by abundant public funding.
Moreover, it is even equipped with a magnificent pipe organ.
This ceiling height and acoustical effect were producing a sound of almost unbelievable beauty.
And there stood two colossal geniuses within it.
Although it should have taken less than ten minutes on foot from Mitaka Station, I was dismayed that it took me thirty minutes.
Perhaps it was because I had attended my first Mass in life that morning.
I was deeply moved by Bach’s Partita No. 2, Andante, which Natsuho chose at the opening.
It comforted and healed everything, including the unexpected taxi incident of the previous day.
Even though Natsuho was performing right in front of me, I sometimes closed my eyes and immersed myself in her supreme resonance.
It was truly unprecedented, one vertical line of resonance, then horizontally one, two, three, expanding like connected circles.
She is the best in the world.
After the performance ended, I gave her a standing ovation and at the same time told her.
You are extraordinary.
You are the best in the world.
At the end of the first half, Kaoruko performed the Italian Concerto.
I was astonished.
Because she played Glenn Gould.
The program of that evening was truly magnificent.
I had prepared a collection of works in advance as part of my preview of the entire program.
At that time, I had expected that Kaoruko would surely play in a Richter-like manner, and so I had included Richter’s performance.
It was my first time hearing Kaoruko.
But I was truly astonished.
What a talent.
My close friend sitting beside me was sobbing during the Andante of the Italian Concerto as played by Kaoruko.
It was the first sight of its kind that I had ever witnessed.
In order to engrave the memory and emotion of that moment, I used those pieces as the music for this work.