For a certain type of person, the most coveted concert ticket of the last two years isn’t to the Eras or Renaissance Tours. It’s to see Joe Hisaishi, the legendary composer best known for his collaborations with Studio Ghibli co-founder Hayao Miyazaki. Embarking upon something of a career-retrospective world tour, the man behind the instantly memorable sounds of Spirited Away, Howl’s Moving Castle, and several other of cinema’s all-time greatest works has spent much of the last 18 months on the road—all during what increasingly feels like a pivotal moment in the 73-year-old artist’s career.
Fans around the world have spent hundreds of dollars to see Hisaishi play such vaunted venues as Radio City Music Hall, the Hollywood Bowl, and London’s Wembley Arena. And these aren’t just lovers of orchestral music, the kinds of concertgoers most likely to spend their cash to see a symphony. People of all ages have made something of a pilgrimage to go see the composer play out of a sense of nostalgia; much of his work serves as the theme songs of their childhoods.
But the composer says he’s well aware that a large portion of the crowd is there for not just him, but what he represents to them.
“I perform concerts worldwide with orchestras, and of course I include some of the film scores that I have written in the concerts, as well as my own classical music compositions,” Hisaishi says, speaking to The Daily Beast’s Obsessed earlier this month. “Tens of thousands of people have come to hear my concerts, so I know from that experience that many people in the world love Hayao Miyazaki and his films.”
Miyazaki lovers have been particularly vocal since last summer, when the director’s reportedly final film premiered in Japanese theaters. The Boy and the Heron, released stateside in November, is Miyazaki’s 12th film and 11th collaboration with Hisaishi, who has stuck by Miyazaki through a handful of creative fallow periods. Heron arrived after a decade-long break from filmmaking, during which Miyazaki announced his retirement—then reversed his decision. (He’s done the same again with Heron, claiming that what was once his last hurrah is actually a new beginning for the 83 year old.)
Heron is a beguiling film at times, one which some critics have cited as at once Miyazaki’s most personal flick as well as his most surreal. It recalls works like The Wind Rises, Miyazaki’s previous “final” film, as well as My Neighbor Totoro and Spirited Away in equal measure. (Some may argue that the former two of these films are at least, if not more, vulnerable than Boy and the Heron, but such is the nature of Miyazaki’s filmography: There’s always much to discuss.) And as with all of the director’s works, Heron is defined as much by its gorgeous animation as by Hisaishi’s melancholic, emotive score.
Based mostly on the piano, Heron’s score is deceptively simple. “Ask Me Why,” which appears as a motif throughout the film, mirrors young protagonist Mahito’s interior self: wounded but hopeful, guarded but open to dropping his shield. It’s the kind of highly emotional, interpretive work that’s drawn audiences to Hisaishi for decades, recalling tracks like Spirited Away’s “One Summer’s Day” in its quietly earnest vulnerability.
But with Heron, Miyazaki deviated from his usual collaborative process with the composer. While with past films, Hisaishi was clued into the development of the project early on, his score helping to define the story’s themes and vice versa, Miyazaki kept Heron close to the vest this time around.
“I saw the film finally when 95 percent of it was completed, and the images were already there,” he said. “I wasn’t told what the content was [beforehand], and I was asked to have a very pure way that I would look at the film in order to be able to compose for it.”
Confused by how little direction he was given for the project, Hisaishi “just left it alone for two or three months, thinking that he would give me a bit more direction, but I didn’t hear anything, so I realized that, I guess I’ll have to do it anyway.”
The result is one of the most well-regarded scores of the composer’s career thus far. In fact, Hisaishi’s most recent trip to the U.S. wasn’t for one of his concerts, but to attend his first-ever Golden Globes, where his Heron score received a nomination. (The award went to the score of Oppenheimer instead, but Hisaishi still made history with his nomination; it was the first time the music of a Japanese animated film had been nominated in the category.)
The nomination came as a surprise to the composer, even if fans considered this recognition obviously long overdue.
“I had no idea that I would be nominated, because this is a Japanese animation film that I had composed for, so I didn't have any idea that I would be up for a composition award for a film from an American entity,” he said, acknowledging the unlikelihood of such an accolade during the typical American awards season. In fact, an American friend had to let him know he was nominated at all—such was his disbelief that a nomination was possible.
A Golden Globe nomination is huge for a composer, although Hisaishi clearly doesn’t need awards recognition to know how important he is to so many different people of all ages. Still, it feels meaningful that the award is happening now, at an inflection point for Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. The animation house’s work has mostly dried up since both the passing of co-founder Isao Takahata and Miyazaki’s retirement period. The studio has released only one film, the critically reviled, CGI-animated Earwig and the Witch, in the last five years.
Should this actually be the final feature for Miyazaki, Hisaishi isn’t sure if he’ll continue to work with Ghibli. (He’s only scored one other Ghibli film not directed by Miyazaki: The Tale of the Princess Kaguya, Takahata’s 2013 masterpiece and final feature before his death.) The pair are uniquely in sync, he says, from a creative standpoint.
Hisaishi’s theme for Spirited Away is one of the most memorable film compositions of the 21st century.
“I think that he creates films with a lot of sincerity and serious effort,” Hisaishi says of what’s kept him working with Miyazaki, specifically, for 30 years now. “And I, myself, compose with sincerity and serious effort. So I think in that regard, we are a good fit.”
If Hisaishi’s Heron score picks up an Oscar nod this year—a high possibility, according to some awards prognosticators—it would be a lovely, well-earned moment for one of film’s greatest partnerships. The same goes for an Oscar win for Heron, which is nearly guaranteed a Best Animated Feature nomination. (It won in the same category at the Globes.) It would be the first time an anime has won since Miyazaki picked up a trophy for 2002’s Spirited Away, still considered by many critics to be his greatest work—and Hisaishi’s, too.
Awards or no awards, however, Hisaishi’s music will continue to move generations of viewers for generations to come. And for those lucky enough to pick up those heavily sold out, highly priced concert tickets? You’ve earned something even better than an Oscar: our endless, incredible envy.
login
who are we?
contact us
qosheapp
Toi Staff
Gideon Levy
Belen Fernandez
Mort Laitner
Rami G Khouri
Ali Fathollah-Nejad
Nikkei Editorial
visit website
