A Musical Farewell: Ryuichi Sakamoto’s Opus
The poignant beauty of Ryuichi Sakamoto’s last recordings resonates with a haunting silence, inviting us to deeply reflect on both the music and the legacy of this extraordinary composer. His final album, Opus, presents a rare glimpse into the life of a musician grappling with his impending farewell. Captured in a solitary performance at Tokyo’s NHK Broadcast Center, the album is a remembrance of Sakamoto’s prolific journey through film music and beyond.
Capturing a legacy in stillness.
The nearly twenty selections on Opus traverse a rich tapestry of Sakamoto’s compositions, with pieces from iconic films such as Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, The Last Emperor, and The Revenant. Each note played is a delicate brushstroke against the vast canvas of silence, inviting listeners to share in Sakamoto’s introspective journey. As I listened to tracks like “Andata” and “Aqua”, I felt a mix of nostalgia and solitude; it was as if he was reaching out to us, even in his absence.
You can hear his mastery unfold as he balances previously heard melodies with the unknown. One standout track is “For Jóhann,” a tribute to his dear friend and fellow composer Jóhann Jóhannsson. Sakamoto’s expressive touch captures a raw sense of loss and remembrance that resonates deeply. The composition “20180219,” an unreleased solo piano piece, feels like a private conversation between the artist and his audience, encapsulating emotions that speak louder than words.
“Simply playing a few songs a day with a lot of concentration was all I could muster at this point in my life. Perhaps due to the exertion, I felt utterly hollow afterwards.”
— Ryuichi Sakamoto
Sakamoto’s reflection on his creative process while recording these tracks hints at the intensity and fragility of his state. It is a sobering reminder of the human experience in art—the euphoria and the exhaustion intertwined. When I think of his performances, I remember how music often serves as a vessel for our deepest emotions, allowing us to connect with art in ways that transcend our physical boundaries.
The profound connection between artist and audience.
The album also showcases Sakamoto’s experimental side, echoing influences from avant-garde composers like John Cage. The spectral resonances in pieces like “Icxhemai - Small Happiness” might evoke Erik Satie’s minimalist approach but are loaded with Sakamoto’s signature emotional depth. This contrasting duality can be both unsettling and cathartic—much like reflecting on the life of a composer who passionately challenged conventions while navigating his own personal battles.
In a world where music often serves as background noise, Opus stands apart as a meditative experience. It compels us to embrace the stillness, allowing the music to wash over us in quiet contemplation. As Sakamoto fades into the echoes of his final notes, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of closure and gratitude for the gift of his art.
As we listen to the closing moments of “Opus – Ending,” it is reminiscent of a painter stepping out of their final masterpiece. It is a poignant conclusion to a journey that has left an indelible mark on the global music landscape.
The last echoes of a masterful legacy.
As the sound fades into tranquility, we are reminded that Sakamoto’s music will continue to inspire new generations of artists. His willingness to embrace not just melody but the nuances of silence reveals the depth of his artistry. In Opus, Ryuichi Sakamoto leaves us not with a sense of loss, but with a legacy that promotes reflection, appreciation, and a profound connection to the art of music itself. This is more than just an album; it is a testament to a life dedicated to the beauty of sound and the emotive power it carries.
With Opus, we are given a timeless gift—one that encourages us to pause, listen, and celebrate the incredible spirit of Ryuichi Sakamoto.
