Jump to content

[2024-2025] Compilation of translated interview articles with Yuzu


yuzurujenn

Recommended Posts

2025.04.03

 

 

Source: 20250403 KISS & CRY -THE STAGE4-

 

Special Interview: Costume Designer Taketoshi Hara
The Costume Is the Only Stage Device

 

In the Haier/AQUA commercial, Yuzuru Hanyu’s blue and white costumes became a big topic. We interviewed the designer, Taketoshi Hara, who worked on them, and asked about the design concepts and behind-the-scenes episodes.

 

Spoiler

Attention to detail in the two costumes, "Blue Hanyu" and "White Hanyu"

 

How did you come to be involved in this project?

“I was approached around last autumn, but initially it wasn’t a costume-making request — it was for styling coordination. However, Haier/AQUA already had a clear image at that point, and as the discussions progressed, it became ‘let’s make something new rather than using existing pieces.’ At first, I was relaxed and excited thinking, ‘I get to see Hanyu skate up close again!’ But suddenly, I was tasked with creating two costumes in a short time, which was quite tough (laughs). The actual production period was about three weeks. While they were checking one design, I was simultaneously brainstorming the second — it was probably the tightest schedule I’ve ever worked on. Still, on the pure white ice, the costume is the only stage device, and since it’s for a commercial that has to leave a lasting impression, I tackled the project with a sense of purpose.”

 

How did the production process go?

“I always get design ideas from music, so I asked the creative team, ‘Please tell me as soon as possible what kind of music will be used.’ Sometimes the commercial’s music is finalized only in post-production, near the end, but for me, music is crucial. So they kindly sent me the updated audio tracks each time the arrangement was revised, and I repeatedly listened and refined the design accordingly.”

 

Can you explain the concept behind each costume?

“The blue costume is based on Haier’s corporate colour, a deep royal blue. The idea started from fusing something classical and noble with something technical. I drew inspiration from gemstones like lapis lazuli and European luxury cars like Lamborghinis and Ferraris. The commercial’s music blended string sounds with a modern EDM feel, similar to a movie or game soundtrack. So, instead of only going for a sharp, classical look, I incorporated elements inspired by artisan indie fashion brands’ unisex styles. I also wanted to bring out a strong sense of figure skating, so I included rhinestones. I personally decided on the placement of the shoulder stones and attached them by hand. Interestingly, the central motif on the blue costume’s shoulder is the same as the front motif on the white costume. Although the two outfits look very different, I made sure there were subtle links between them.”

 

And the white costume?

“Since the blue costume is asymmetrical, I deliberately designed the white one to be symmetrical as a contrast. For example, the blue has pleats on the right side, while the white gathers tucks centrally around the button line to create dimension and nuance. Also, strictly speaking, the colour isn’t pure white — it’s a very pale, almost icy blue. Pure white can look bland, and because the rink itself is white, it lacks contrast and tends to blend in. By adding a hint of blue, I aimed for a transparent, dignified atmosphere. If you look closely at still shots on the rink, you can just make out the bluish tint. The silhouette combines soft bridal and Chinese garment elements, plus an image of clergy or sacred robes. For the decorative details, I used samples like custom-made jewellery, minerals, and European cathedrals.”

 

What were the biggest challenges?

“The storyboards we received in advance showed a scene where Hanyu would jump, and I thought, ‘If it’s Hanyu, he’ll definitely go for a triple axel or a quad.’ Since we could only do fittings on the day of shooting, I was anxious about whether I could make something that could keep up with his movements, but I was familiar with his size, so somehow I managed. To ensure the garment didn’t restrict his movement, I made it fully stretchable, but at the same time, I fine-tuned the shoulder pads and the inner structure to preserve a tight, jacket-like silhouette.”

 

 

The Joy of a Designer Felt During Filming

 

How was Haier/AQUA’s reaction?

“They were thrilled, saying things like, ‘It’s exactly what we imagined, no, even better!’ I think Haier/AQUA’s products stand out for their design emphasis, and it was the same with the costume direction, making this a very rewarding job. I'm proud that I was able to do a good job.”

 

Any behind-the-scenes stories from the shoot?

“Usually, there’s a set place on the rink where Hanyu does his quad jumps, but because this was shot on a green screen for compositing, he had to jump right in the center. It looked tricky to time, so Hanyu said, ‘Let me adjust!’ and tried again and again. Also, since we used real rhinestones, the costumes were a bit heavy. It's a spot where he doesn't usually jump, and it's his first time wearing the costume, but I was impressed by his professionalism in completing the quadruple jump within the allocated time. Also, the white costume’s sleeves are made of an unusual draping tulle material, attached in a way we’d never used before, and Hanyu commented, ‘This is unusual,’ showing interest. He tested the air resistance when jumping and said, ‘Maybe I should hold this part when I jump.’ As always, I’m amazed at how skillfully he ‘tames’ his costumes.”

 

It feels like it’s been a while since we’ve seen Hanyu skating on the rink in a commercial.

“That’s true. Hanyu is an all-rounder who can do anything, but for me, seeing him perform on ice is what moves my heart the most. Having that appear in a commercial and reaching people who might not be interested in figure skating, and knowing that my costume is involved in that, makes me very happy. This time, with special permission, the staff, including me, were allowed onto the rink to adjust the costumes during filming. I have been involved in figure skating for about 10 years, but I have only been allowed inside the rink a few times. I was very nervous because I know how sacred that place is. Seeing Hanyu skate from the closest possible distance, I was so moved I almost teared up. Standing in the middle of the rink, it feels wider and colder than it looks from outside. I felt an indescribable emotion, thinking, ‘The skater stands here all alone…’”

 

Thank you. Last question. What does "making costumes for Hanyu Yuzuru" mean to you as a designer?

"There are two costumes this time, one blue and one white, but when Hanyu puts them on, he truly becomes 'Yuzuru Hanyu in that costume.' It's as if he transforms into a completely different person. He communicates with the costume I’ve created and brings an entire world to life. That was the case this time as well. Honestly, he’s probably the only person who gives me that kind of feeling. Of course, there's a lot of pressure and many challenges involved, but seeing a piece of work I poured my soul into be elevated beyond what I even imagined is deeply moving. Every project I’ve done with Hanyu becomes a cherished memory. If I can continue creating costumes for him in the future, it would be a true honor."

 

 

 

PROFILE
Born in Kanagawa Prefecture. While designing costumes for many top figure skaters, he also has a career as a guitarist. Instagram: @taketoshihara


The asymmetrical blue costume
Combining a structured image with the elegance unique to figure skating. The design of the blue costume was inspired by minerals and high-end European cars.


The white costume featuring a blend of various fashion elements
A balance of gentleness and purity. In contrast to the blue, the white costume was designed with symmetry in mind. Detailed touches were added to avoid it looking flat or plain.
 

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

2025.04.03

 

Source: 20250403 KISS & CRY -THE STAGE4-


Special Interview: Yuzuru Hanyu × Haier / AQUA
A Resonance with the Unrelenting Spirit of “Challenge”

 

Yuzuru Hanyu has been appointed as brand ambassador for the home appliance brands Haier and AQUA. We spoke with Mr. Kazuaki Kajiyama, Executive Officer and CSO, Head of Strategy at AQUA Co., Ltd.

 

Spoiler

As a “comrade-in-arms” who keeps the flame of the soul burning


— Please tell us how Yuzuru Hanyu came to be appointed as brand ambassador.
“Hanyu-san is a figure skater who has stood at the top of the world many times, including winning two consecutive Olympic gold medals. Yet he has never been satisfied and has constantly kept challenging himself. Even after retiring from competition and becoming a professional skater, he continues to produce innovative ice shows one after another, achieving ongoing success.
We at Haier Japan Region also have a management philosophy: ‘Even after conquering the peak before you, aim for the next summit.’ Hanyu’s attitude of constantly striving higher without being satisfied by past successes perfectly embodies this philosophy. That’s why we decided to appoint him as brand ambassador for Haier and AQUA.”


— What was the concept behind the advertising visuals this time?
"This time, we’ve taken a bold approach by having Hanyu-san represent both the Haier and AQUA brand images on his own. For Haier, rooted in the management philosophy of ‘challenge’ I just mentioned, we built the story around the keyword ‘Surpass yourself.’ In the commercial titled 'Me vs. Me,' it begins with a confrontation between the 'past Hanyu' and the 'present Hanyu,' and then the 'present Hanyu' delivers a powerful skating performance.
When filming, we requested that Hanyu show ‘strength and speed’ and express the idea of ‘never-ending challenge for new, unseen possibilities and value.’ We also worked with the costume designer to create a blue outfit that visually expresses strength, in line with the story.
On the other hand, AQUA is also based on the concept of 'challenge,' but centres around the word ‘innovation.’ This word is very important to Haier Japan. It expresses our philosophy of 'creating unprecedented new connections with people’s lives and the future,' 'allowing users to generate and share new value through using our products,' and 'delivering genuine love to our users from a place free of limitations.'
For the commercial, we requested that these ideas be conveyed in an elegant and graceful way. It seems fans are calling the two different Hanyu-sans, with the different concepts, ‘Blue Hanyu’ and ‘White Hanyu.’ We are very happy about that.”


— How did the project progress?
“We first had an online meeting where we conveyed our corporate philosophy and the concept of the commercial. After that, we conducted the actual filming, and Hanyu-san truly paid attention to details beyond what we had imagined, and the visual and commercial shoots went far over the planned schedule.”

 

— What impression did you have of Hanyu at the filming site?
“He was even more passionate than the impression you get from seeing him on TV. Even when the director and we gave the OK, Hanyu would say, ‘I’m not satisfied. Please let me do it again!’
He repeated his quadruple jumps again and again, aiming for perfection. Honestly, we were worried: ‘What if he gets injured?’ We told him, ‘It’s already more than enough, it’s okay,’ but he kept challenging himself until he was satisfied. We could feel that Hanyu was approaching this project with the determination to ‘fight alongside us,’ and it was deeply moving.”


— What kind of reactions have you received?
“We’ve received positive feedback from all stakeholders — customers, social media, business partners, and our employees.
It seems many people learned about Haier and AQUA through Hanyu, and even those who already knew of us now feel a stronger connection and greater interest in our products, services, and company. By borrowing Hanyu-san’s power, we were able to take the first step in spreading Haier / AQUA’s philosophy.”


— Have you seen Hanyu-san’s performance? Please tell us your thoughts.
“My first time was at Fantasy on Ice 2024. Watching him skate, I felt that "even though he has become a professional skater, he has not stopped evolving. His spirit of challenge is still intact." It was a powerful performance, and I got the impression that he has grown even more as a skater and as a person."


— What kinds of promotions or projects are you planning for the future?
“We want Hanyu-san to continue helping us widely convey our philosophy, and we hope he will continue to be a ‘comrade-in-arms’ who keeps the ‘flame of the soul’ burning. Although we cannot talk about it yet, please look forward to and pay attention to future developments.”


— So, you see Hanyu-san as a ‘comrade-in-arms’?
“In 2012, the AQUA brand debuted, and the following year, in 2013, we put up the Haier / AQUA signboard in Ginza, Tokyo.
At that time, our founder Zhang Ruimin sent this message to employees: ‘We were able to light neon in Ginza, one of the world’s most prestigious locations. But we must keep this light burning forever in the hearts of Japanese users as our soul.’
That feeling is something always in our hearts, and the idea of ‘firmly holding your convictions and continuing to send them out, eternally keeping the flame alive in the soul’ is something that I think resonates with Hanyu-san’s own thinking. When I think about it like that, I feel like it was not a coincidence that we found Hanyu, but rather it was inevitable."

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

 2025.04.07

 

Radio archive: https://weibo.com/tv/show/1034:5152891220983881

Source:
https://weibo.com/1683522853/PmcKvEkhp

https://weibo.com/1683522853/Pmg5DrL7p

https://weibo.com/1683522853/PmgD0tRjq

https://weibo.com/1683522853/Pmh9EhfzN

https://weibo.com/1683522853/PmhhPonFL

 

 

NHK Radio 1's "Nomura Mansai's Radio Fukubukuro" featuring special guest Yuzuru Hanyu Part 1 - BOLERO

 

Spoiler

Yuzuru Hanyu: "The 'NS' in the Notte Stellata ice show originally stands for 'a sky full of stars.' After the March 11, 2011 disaster, the city was devastated - there was no electricity, everything was pitch black. When I looked up at the night sky, it was incredibly beautiful. That beauty wasn't something simple. It's hard to even say it was about 'hope' or 'healing.' And yet, I was completely overwhelmed by how beautiful it was. For me, it's an incredibly important memory, how should I put it... it felt like a fated encounter. By chance, I came across Notte Stellata, and it became a piece I performed for gala exhibitions. Because I treasure that program so much, I made it the title for the ice show. Starting from 2023, we created this ice show with the hope of supporting not only the earthquake disaster recovery but all those affected by disasters across Japan."


Mansai Nomura: "On that day - 3.11 - I was actually in Paris. I only learned about it through the news, and it was agonizing, an overwhelming sense of helplessness. Even though I wasn't there, my family was still in Tokyo. So you were looking up at the stars that night, carrying feelings of sadness and loss. March must have been so cold... I can almost imagine breathing in that kind of air."


Yuzuru Hanyu: "At that time, I hadn't had many chances to travel abroad for competitions yet. When there was news of meteor showers, once, I had climbed a mountain to watch the stars. But the night sky then after the earthquake wasn't the same as during a meteor shower. It was shining in a completely different way. In a sense, it felt sacred. Maybe because we were facing such a massive disaster... In a city littered with broken glass, I felt like there weren't many people who would even think to look up at the sky. And yet, that night sky was so beautiful, a beauty we usually overlook. The stars were shining as if they were lighting the way for us."


Mansai Nomura: "This ties into the idea of a 'cosmic perspective,' doesn't it? The stars themselves, they don't change."

 



Yuzuru Hanyu: "Exactly. Just like how people from the Heian period were already reading the stars... Looking up at the same sky, at constellations whose positions haven't changed. As performers, we're also polishing the same things over time. We inherit the expressions and artistry passed down by those who came before us - the masters - and we transform them into something new. That's what we do, isn't it?"


Mansai Nomura: "The stars... If you think about it, the biggest star we can see from Earth is the sun. The sun, the moon - they are still watching over us. Over a long time, they've helped us grow stronger. Even during COVID, I kept wondering: Why do we have theater? Why were these spaces built? And thinking about that made me feel: We cannot give up. We have to survive. The stars are still there, watching over us. We can rebuild. When you go to a theater, and you experience a live performance, you can truly feel that you're alive."


Yuzuru Hanyu: "Yes, exactly. Even during COVID, and back during the 3.11 earthquake, I happened to be practicing skating at the time. I still vividly remember the damage to my home rink. After the rainstorms that followed, the rink became unusable. As someone who experienced the disaster firsthand, with so many people around me losing their lives, losing everything... At the time, I didn't even know if I could continue skating. I wondered if it was really okay for me to even think about skating when the very foundations of survival were lost. Was it right to even mention skating at all? Later, when I heard the call to organize charity ice shows, it gave me a way to skate again. The venue for Notte Stellata ice show was once used as a temporary morgue after the disaster. Of course, besides Notte Stellata, I've had other chances to skate too... But skating there on 3.11, in that place, I kept wondering deep in my heart: Is it really okay for me to skate here? It felt like I was retracing the past as I performed the entire show."

 



Nomura Mansai: This ties into the idea of performing rituals for the repose of souls, and also how those who are still alive must look forward. Considering that the venue was once a place where bodies were laid to rest, in a way, the thoughts and feelings of those who passed away with regrets linger there. It serves as a reminder to the living that we must continue moving forward, carrying a spirit of rebirth. These abilities are like divine gifts, entrusted into our bodies by the gods.


Yuzuru Hanyu: Hearing you say that... it truly makes me proud to be Japanese.


Nomura Mansai: Whenever I talk with you, Hanyu-san, our conversations always naturally lead to topics like this. It feels like destiny in a way. For ordinary people, it's natural to wonder: How far should we go in honouring and comforting the spirits? At Grande 21, that place where souls remain, I personally feel a strong sense of their presence.


Yuzuru Hanyu: Yes, I do feel a bit of fear as well. Every time I skate there, I'm very aware of it. In Noh plays, there are also movements where you stomp on the ground, right? We lay down ice in that place, put on makeup, and create a show... but I feel it's not something we should do just for entertainment or for fun. If I can transform it into an act of "stepping on the ice, sounding out the souls," then that's the feeling I bring into my skating.


Nomura Mansai: In Noh performances, each piece has its own particular foot-stamping patterns. Different plays have different rhythmic foot patterns, and especially in the piece Sanbasō, we use a lot of foot-stamping. This also appeared in the movie Onmyoji. There's a scene called "offering the sake cup," where this foot-stamping movement is performed. In a sense, it's a ritual for awakening souls from their winter slumber, encouraging rebirth with the arrival of spring. It fits perfectly with what we're discussing now. When you invited me this time, I thought carefully about what I could contribute. Of course, people are familiar with my connection to you through SEIMEI. When the 3.11 disaster happened, I was overseas, and after hearing the news and returning to Tokyo, I kept wondering what I could possibly do. I ended up choosing Boléro by Ravel. It became like a requiem, a ritual dance piece for me. Even though 10 years have passed, when I received your invitation, I thought: I want to perform it once more. This time, perhaps a bit boldly, I took the liberty of setting up a Noh stage right on the ice.

 

Nomura Mansai: It's not very common to move the stage to the center like this, is it?


Yuzuru Hanyu: It's the first time I've seen it.


Nomura Mansai: Such passionate skaters, truly. For us, the Noh stage is something quite fixed in form. Boléro is a very famous ballet piece and Maurice Béjart's Boléro is known worldwide. I personally interpreted it as a kind of Bon dance (Bon Odori) that could be performed on a Noh stage. Especially since Béjart's version had a red platform in the center, waiting for the melody to begin, with dancers surrounding it. That's why I thought of moving the red stage out from the entrance, like passing through a torii gate.


Yuzuru Hanyu: Hearing you explain it like that, I'm realizing it for the first time.


Nomura Mansai: Even the platform itself was designed like a torii gate.


Yuzuru Hanyu: Ahh, I really want to see it again!


Nomura Mansai: That concept connects to Sanbasō too. Doing footwork on the ice adds another layer of meaning.


Yuzuru Hanyu: When I performed with you, I wasn't always in sync with the footwork on the ice. The sound of stepping on the ice stage was actually different from the sound of our hard stepping on the ice. But when we resonated in those brief moments, I felt something sacred. When skating, realistically, we can't keep stomping the whole time. Even so, I feel like we managed to create something truly meaningful, something offered up to the spirits.


Nomura Mansai: Yes, when we perform the footwork (stamping), the music seems to respond to us. It's like the sound itself heard our steps. So it's not just a one-sided act. We respond to the sound too. Perhaps it's the resonance of the stage, but it feels almost as if we're surrounded by the earth god. It's as though the souls are there. In your case, Hanyu-san, you use your blades to touch the surface, and when the ice responds to that, maybe that's the gift of the "earth" itself.


Yuzuru Hanyu: With ice rinks, you can create sounds in other venues too. But I feel there's a sound unique to this particular venue. No matter how many layers of ice you lay, the floor, the concrete, the air that fills this space, the density of the air, the texture of the walls, they all make the sound feel close and intimate. I truly feel this is a sound that can only be born in this place.


Nomura Mansai: Before, I performed Boléro solo, but this was the first time collaborating with Hanyu-san, and with a group of incredible skaters. Choreographed together with Shae-Lynn as well, and it all came together into a great climax.


Yuzuru Hanyu: This is a treasure I will never forget for the rest of my life.


Nomura Mansai: I see. It was my first time performing together with you too. I simply tried to perform my part as best I could, while everyone around supported and built the performance together.



Yuzuru Hanyu: The rehearsals were truly tough. There were things that only those of us there could feel. Mansai-san must have been feeling anxious, checking on us while performing at the same time.

 

Nomura Mansai: When we depicted the scene of disaster victims suddenly collapsing, I asked the skaters to fall one after another. And I wondered, how many minutes should they lie there?


Yuzuru Hanyu: It depends on the willpower. They can lie down as long as they want.


Nomura Mansai: Ah, but you're all athletes, and now you have to act too. It must have been really tough to hold that for minutes at a time.


Yuzuru Hanyu: It was definitely cold. The weather wasn't particularly warm that day either. That special ice we used, it wasn't freezing cold, but it's not like it's warm either. Lying down like that must have been quite chilly.


Nomura Mansai: The five skaters lying gracefully, representing the disaster victims... Then they were reborn, and afterward, you, Hanyu-san, appeared as a golden angel soaring through.


Yuzuru Hanyu: When I saw the photos afterward, it really looked like a bird. I could feel everything you said every day, Mansai-san, it really felt like a firebird, or a painting of a bird flying. The costume, too, at rest it's sewn tightly, but it's very big, so performing in it was really difficult.


Nomura Mansai: You kept improving day by day. Flying and soaring must have been so hard.


Yuzuru Hanyu: No, no- rather, I treated the role you performed, Mansai-san, as a kind of mirror for me to imitate, trying to match that feeling as closely as possible. Each time, I would carefully study your movements and absorb them into myself. Even though I don't fully understand traditional kata (forms), I tried to activate all my cells and perform them.


Nomura Mansai: Our synchronization improved every single day, from the first day to the very last.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu: Mansai-san really adapted himself to us a lot, didn't he?


Nomura Mansai: No, no - watching you perform from the front, I thought syncing up would be even more fun. That way, we could push each other even further, and that's even more powerful than performing alone.

 



Hanyu: This is the version from Paris.


Nomura Mansai: It depends on the conductor. Previously, with a very strong-willed version, it didn't quite match well. This one is more standard, or perhaps calmer and more composed.


Hanyu: It's the same in figure skating. It's not about "completing" the music. We perform figure skating along with the music. If the final product isn't done well, the whole performance collapses. There are types where, if you do it in a formulaic way, it just falls apart. In the end, the music must bring out the beauty and excellence of figure skating. So, choosing the right music is extremely important.


Nomura Mansai: After this performance, I received many impressions and feedback from people around me - all very positive. Everyone naturally, and emotionally, ended up in tears.


Hanyu: I skated with strong faith in that belief.


Nomura Mansai: It was my first time performing Boléro on Tohoku soil. What did that mean? It might sound strange, but it felt like the most fitting place to dance Boléro. I originally created my Boléro inspired by the earthquake disaster, and now I was fortunate to perform it there in person. I might be forcing the comparison a bit, but I feel that figure skating and Noh theater are actually very similar. My stage is a fixed, front-facing direction, while the ice rink is rectangular. In a space with almost nothing else, it's basically oriented toward four directions - north, south, east, west. Although it might sound a little strange, you always have an awareness of which direction you're facing. Including the way you skate, the way you step, the way you jump, the way you take off - when you perform with figure skating, it's actually quite similar to traditional stage performance. Perhaps Hanyu-san, you can naturally sense "heaven, earth, and people" (th) and that may be why you're interested in Kyogen.


Hanyu: When we talked about SEIMEI, you said that the stage itself is like a universe. I actually had that same feeling when I was a child skating at the rink. I don't know if every figure skater feels this, but within the rink, that "universe", we carve out miracles and draw shapes with our blades. It's very similar to the idea of rituals in Onmyoji, where you're creating and connecting constellations. Figure skating originally started with the practice of drawing figures. In that sense, it's extremely similar. This is something I personally treasure deeply, it might even be a uniquely Japanese sense of spirituality: a belief in gods, in humans, and in objects - the sense that something divine resides in them. Because of that uniquely Japanese feeling, I think figure skating might actually be closer to ceremonial/ritual dance (-mai), Noh or Kyogen than it is to dance.

 



Nomura Mansai: I'm not sure if the audience fully grasped it, but perhaps the space that forms the universe was unfolding right before their eyes. Maybe that's what dance is, creating a certain world in an otherwise empty space. And Hanyu-san, what you're doing is probably designing and performing a world within the environment of the ice rink.


Hanyu: Also, what we believe in and what we follow is a very strong force in itself, and it is originally about believing in gods. I have always supported that, especially in relation to 3.11, and to everyone who has supported me. I feel the need to respond to them by continuing to skate. It's also about calming the souls of the disaster victims, as well as rebirth, and these programs have supported me. So, these elements are very strong for me.


Nomura Mansai: This time, if we say it's a ritual for calming the souls and rebirth, it could be said that you are the priest or the officiant of the ceremony.


Hanyu: It is quite difficult. There are overseas skaters involved too, and it is difficult to share such values. Even among Japanese people, it's not easy to share this kind of feeling. But this time, everyone worked together as one, and we performed the "ritual" as a unified effort.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

 2025.04.14

 

Radio archive: https://weibo.com/tv/show/1034:5156907199954996

Source: https://weibo.com/5437806211/PoMEMkESM

 

 

NHK Radio 1's "Nomura Mansai's Radio Fukubukuro" featuring special guest Yuzuru Part 2 - SEIMEI

 

Spoiler

Nomura: …This time, let’s talk about SEIMEI! Our connection really began with SEIMEI, didn’t it? The music comes mainly from the movie Onmyoji, which I starred in, and you chose it as your free skate program, right? And you won the gold medal with it.

 

Hanyu: Yes, absolutely. I really feel like that piece, that program, helped me.

 

Nomura: After we had a lot of conversations back then, I saw your performance and thought, “He governs heaven, earth, and man, cloaked in the soul of music.” I felt that perhaps skating with a clear intention and purpose was a real strength for you. I hope you don’t mind me saying this so bluntly. But in judged sports like figure skating, I imagine you have to perform with the awareness of scoring points, don’t you? That’s something almost unimaginable for us in traditional theater. I feel it’s quite different from performing to create a world or an atmosphere. That’s why I ended up rambling about this, but then again, I also feel that performing for the sake of expression can itself lead to higher scores, right?

 

Hanyu: That’s true. And also, it was from this program onward that I really started to think deeply, very deeply, about how to use jumps as part of artistic expression. Programs like Sanbasō (a traditional Japanese dance), for example—the jumps in those performances already have deep meaning built into them. But in figure skating, we hadn’t really considered the meaning of jumps that much.

 

Nomura: You mean jumps are seen more as a scoring tool?

 

Hanyu: Yes, they’re mostly viewed in relation to points. There are also skaters who try jumps not for scores, but purely to push their own limits. In that sense, they jump with a mindset of “challenge.” But with SEIMEI, after having all those conversations with you, learning the background of the story, and understanding the movements as kata (forms) within a larger expression, jumping stopped being the “end goal.” Instead, it became something that must be done as part of the program. Jumps became just one of many elements along the way, tools to support the expression. That mindset really started with SEIMEI.

 

Nomura: It feels like a natural progression, too.

 

Hanyu: Of course, not every jump went perfectly when I performed SEIMEI. It definitely demanded extraordinary effort. But in terms of mindset, I freed myself from the idea that jumps = points. It was a big shift in consciousness.

 

Nomura: When you’re aiming to score, your focus gets super tight, doesn’t it?

 

Hanyu: Yes. Also, when I look at a piece of music, I think carefully about what kind of jump fits that particular moment. There are jumps that launch from a forceful push off the ice with your foot, and others that rely more on centrifugal force to spin up. You can basically group them into those two types. I consider things like: is there a sound in the music that fits the spinning motion? Does this move have meaning in that musical moment? On the other hand, for the jumps where you kick off hard from the ice, I have to think about whether the toe-pick movement matches the music.

 

Nomura: After our conversations, and especially after seeing you perform SEIMEI up close this time, I could truly feel the music swirling around you. I felt your dedication to the music and your incredible ability to express its meaning. Performing SEIMEI together this time, I sensed that you had meticulously designed every part. You edited the music yourself too, didn’t you?

 

Hanyu: Yes, I did edit the music myself. Of course, I didn’t use the version I edited all on my own, but that was the first time I handled the music editing—including tempo adjustments. I also added sound effects and used reverse playback to insert unique sounds. I was trying to figure out how to create the right texture, how to highlight the coolness of the choreography, and how to convey the progression of the story.

 

Nomura: And then I had to go and insert myself into such a perfectly constructed piece…

 

Hanyu: No, no, no! Please don’t say that. I’m the one who inserted myself into your world! Didn’t you say in an interview, “Seimei has finally transferred into Hanyu,” and then your fans started worrying, like, “Does that mean Nomura-san won’t play Seimei anymore…?” That’s why people were saying, “Thank you, Hanyu-kun!” when you appeared in full Seimei regalia again this time.

 

Nomura: Haha, is that so? It had been over twenty years since I wore that costume. I thought, “Wow, I’ve really gotten old and lost my charm…”

 

Hanyu: No way, not at all!

 

Nomura: Boléro is my own creation, but SEIMEI—written in Roman letters—was the music that brought you Olympic gold. In that sense, it’s an immortal milestone. So figuring out how to enter into that was honestly quite a challenge. But I think what we created together turned out pretty well. What do you think? Not bad, right?

 

Hanyu: Yes! I'm truly a fortunate guy! Watching you, I thought, "Ah! The real Seimei has finally arrived!"

 

Nomura: I also rewatched that movie from over 20 years ago, trying to recreate its elements while maintaining a subtle relationship without interfering with your performance. Originally, my stage was set at the end of that vertical rectangle, which is typical, but I thought it would be boring like remote control, so this time I ran along the edge of the ice rink.

 

Hanyu: You really ran with all your might! I also mentioned in other interviews, "How could I do something that makes Mansai Nomura-san out of breath?!"

 

Nomura: It’s fine, it’s fine. You were performing with your soul, so of course I couldn’t take it easy or get in your way. Even when I’m performing on a smaller stage, I’m always thinking about how to move between the stage areas without disrupting things.

 

Hanyu: Seeing Seimei dashing across the space with such vigor made me think, “Ah! It’s just like the movie!”

 

Nomura: Is that so? Well, I managed to chant incantations while forming hand seals at the same time. Even though it may have looked like I was merely observing Hanyu's performance from the side, in my head I was already thinking, “I have just a few seconds to get to the next position!” And just like in the movie, I used a hitogata (paper doll), as if summoning a shikigami. Yuzuru Hanyu would suddenly appear and begin to perform, and I would chant as though summoning the four guardian spirits of Onmyōdō. That was the concept.

 

Hanyu: Before arriving at the venue, I really didn’t know how it would all turn out! I had actually prepared to skate the full version of SEIMEI, thinking that if we found it worked better to include Mansai’s chanting during the full version, I’d need to skate the entire program every day. But then…

 

Nomura: Your body couldn’t keep up, huh?

 

Hanyu: Yeah, I couldn’t sustain it. For this SEIMEI, I honestly felt even more nervous than I did during PyeongChang. I didn’t expect to do it three days in a row, it was quite tough.

 

Nomura: And you even added a six-minute practice session, which wasn’t originally planned.

 

Hanyu: Right! That was because performing SEIMEI with you, Mansai-san, I couldn’t afford to go in unprepared. I was so nervous, there was just too much pressure, responsibility, and anxiety, so I added that practice step to ensure I could prioritize the performance quality.

 

Nomura: Ah, your dedication… I may have been running around, but honestly, it was nothing compared to what you were doing.

 

Hanyu: I actually have a question for you. Figure skating isn’t originally a Japanese art—it comes from the West, right? But with SEIMEI, including all the choreographers and everyone involved, I think we managed to present something with a Japanese flavour after a lot of study. Still, the foundational elements of figure skating remain Western. On the other hand, you’ve adapted Kyogen and Noh into many forms, including something like Boléro, which fuses with Western culture. What do you think are the advantages and disadvantages of doing that kind of cultural fusion?

 

Nomura: Ultimately, the worldview of Noh and Kyogen is incredibly vast. There are many aspects that we haven’t fully grasped yet. By bringing in Western culture, we can shine a light on those parts and let our own techniques evolve in new ways. Boléro is a perfect example. I heard that Ravel—the composer—was inspired by something in Japan when creating that music. I watched a biographical film about him, and it said he got the idea from the repetitive industrial sounds in a factory. That kind of inspiration is common for composers, but it’s precisely because of the repeated melodies that the piece builds toward a climax. In a way, you could say they are approaching us. Ravel did, and Béjart (the choreographer) also had some connection to Japan. Because of those musical works acting as a bridge, we too can take part in them.

That’s why pieces suitable for this kind of cross-cultural work get selected. From a more analytical perspective—like drawing shapes—we can see how we move on a Noh stage, for example: “From this point to that point, move in a semicircle.” This act of drawing forms is very similar to figure skating. And something I really felt this time is that sometimes you strike the ice in time with the rhythm, but other times you—

 

Hanyu: —make a move that breaks away from the rhythm.

 

Nomura: Yes, exactly. Those movements that detach from the rhythm. I’m not sure if “lightly passing through” is the right way to put it, but it's like giving a swift push with your foot—whoosh—and then gliding gently. We’re the same, really. Our initial steps follow the rhythm, but sometimes there’s a sudden swoosh, a foot movement that breaks away from the tempo. That kind of thing makes me feel a strong similarity between us.

 

Hanyu: That’s very true… And I think many different fields share that in common. In the end, maybe the essence of expression flows with the same kind of blood. You’ve mentioned before the idea of kata (form), and also the concept of “Heaven, Earth, and Man,” and the idea of dynamics—light and heavy, fast and slow—and the structure of Jo-Ha-Kyū (introduction, development, rapid finale). When I listen to music, I feel that many composers are also consciously aware of these things. Even what you just said about Ravel getting inspiration from repetitive factory sounds, that’s not so different from minimalist music. And sometimes we also express through repeating the same motion. I think the wavelengths of what humans perceive as beauty, or what stirs their emotions—whether through physical expression, auditory perception, or visual reception—might all be fundamentally the same…

 

Nomura: Hmm… While I can’t say for sure they’re the same, at least ten years ago I was consciously trying to share with you, “This is how we think.” The delicate manipulation of space and time is really important. If you just repeat the same movement over and over, it gets dull. So, before you unleash a big move, you create a moment of stillness. By restraining yourself first, the eventual explosion becomes twice as powerful—it’s that kind of feeling. How should I say this… I’ve seen many people perform, and I truly believe that kind of instinct is determined by one’s innate taste.

 

(Hanyu: Really!?)

 

Trying to boil that kind of thing down into scientific or mathematical formulas—it’s not impossible—but doing so makes it hard to grasp the nuance of flow and modulation. I think that’s something figure skating and Noh/Kyogen have in common. For example, what I mentioned earlier—actions that match the rhythm, like kicking the ground, versus moments that go beyond just matching the rhythm and instead “pass lightly” through…

 

Hanyu: Actually, in figure skating, keeping in sync with the rhythm is really hard. So a lot of people give up on trying to do that. I think I might be the only skater who really carves out the rhythm and synchronizes with the music to this degree. So in contrast to you, I actually came into it from the opposite side, starting with movements that didn't follow the rhythm or melody. But I felt uncomfortable with that, so I made efforts to match rhythm and melody. That struggle eventually brought me to the balanced state I’m in now.

 

Nomura: Boléro also has segments that align with rhythm, and parts that follow the melody. Especially when I’m performing it solo, I treat adjusting that balance while walking around the stage as a key focus.

 

Hanyu: That’s exactly the kind of effort figure skaters are constantly making too. One of the performers I really admire is Michael Jackson. Even if you turn off the music and just watch him dance, he still looks cool, doesn’t he? Even with no sound, you can remember what song is supposed to be playing there, what sound effects are used, what kind of lighting there is. That’s why I think his body itself is like a musical instrument.

 

(Nomura: You can even see the grace notes!)

 

Exactly! That’s why, when I perform figure skating, if I want to get as close to the music as possible—if I want to cherish the character and the imagery I’m portraying—then I also need to work hard to fully capture the background, the character, and the sounds. I want to become the kind of performer where, even without sets or sound, people can still see those elements through me.

 

Nomura: That’s wonderful! Just standing there makes people go “wow,” and then you simply raise one hand—

 

Hanyu: —and it looks so cool, right!?

 

Nomura: It really is cool! MJ was exactly like that. Every move was in a whole different dimension. To use singers as an example, it’s like even if you don’t understand the lyrics, the moment they sing, you just feel, “Wow.” There’s something inexplicably powerful about it.

Hanyu: But I think you are exactly like that, Nomura-san! For example, when you enter during Boléro, every single movement you make—from spreading your hakama sleeves to kneeling down with that one impactful sound—it instantly silences the atmosphere. Your command of space feels like you're unfolding an entire universe there.

 

Nomura: I see… We’ve really gotten fired up about this topic. Well, I say “we,” but it’s really just the two of us getting excited here (laughs). Anyway, next up is the original piece used in SEIMEI, the theme song from the film Onmyoji!

 

<music plays>

 

Nomura: These days, whenever I hear that piece, I immediately picture you skating to it. It’s really become like that for me.

 

Hanyu: When I hear it, I always start mentally rehearsing how I should perform and express myself, how I should move to it, so I actually try to avoid listening to it too often.

 

Nomura: Every time you finish skating to that piece, you look really satisfied. Like you’ve truly done it. That feeling of having fully expressed something, right?

 

Hanyu: Especially this time, I focused a lot on maintaining the persona of “Shikigami Yuzuru Hanyu” until the final moment when the curtain dropped. I had to stay as a shikigami the entire time. But during the Pyeongchang Olympics, I was just so happy that “Yuzuru Hanyu the person” ended up bursting out during the cheers.

 

Nomura: On the flip side, in this time’s notte stellata, right after I shouted “Kyūkyū nyoritsuryō,” there was that boom and you returned to a paper doll (hitogata - a human-shaped talisman). Then a pentagram appeared on the ice. In that moment, I truly felt that our wish to bring peace to souls had been conveyed through SEIMEI. That’s what I call “Professional Yuzuru Hanyu.” That’s just a label I’ve personally made up, but participating in notte stellata, I felt this deeply meaningful endeavour has gone far beyond just being an ice show. There really aren’t many people who can achieve something like this from so many angles! I’ve said it in interviews too, but I used the word “public figure.” I feel like you’re no longer just an individual, you’ve become a public presence. Going forward, “Professional Yuzuru Hanyu,” and even the existence of “Yuzuru Hanyu” itself, may no longer belong solely to you—though I hope that’s not too forward of me to say.

 

Hanyu: Haha, yes. This ever-expanding idea of “Yuzuru Hanyu” that exists in everyone’s imagination has, in a way, already left my physical self behind and is flying off toward an ideal version of me. Because of that, this flesh-and-blood version of Yuzuru Hanyu wants to keep striving to catch up, to become the ideal “Yuzuru Hanyu” that everyone envisions and needs. As for the “3.11” disaster, from which I received so much support, I want to continue supporting others in return, and keep my heart close to all kinds of disasters and those affected by them.

 

Nomura: That’s truly admirable. There are hardly any men in Japan these days who can do what you’re doing!

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

 2025.04.21

 

Source: https://digital.kyodonews.jp/deepedge/column/figureskating-art-cafe/105448/

 

[Part 1] Rhythm, beat, steps and movement: Noh and Kyogen are fundamentally connected. Yuzuru Hanyu vs. Mansai Nomura. Behind the scenes of an ice show where two performers transcending boundaries resonate with each other.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu, who hails from Sendai City, collaborated with kyogen actor Mansai Nomura in the memorial ice show "notte stellata," held in remembrance of the 14th anniversary of the Great East Japan Earthquake. The venue was the Sekisui Heim Super Arena in Rifu, Miyagi Prefecture—part of the "Grande 21" complex, which served as a temporary morgue immediately after the disaster.

 

Spoiler

Nomura portrayed Abe no Seimei in the film Onmyoji, while Hanyu famously chose the program "SEIMEI" for his free skate at the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics.

From this ice show, which brought together two artists crossing the boundaries of genre, emerged a surprising realization: that figure skating and traditional Japanese performing arts like Noh and Kyogen share a deep, underlying connection.

 

In this two-part interview series, a journalist specializing in classical performing arts speaks with Nomura about what happened behind the scenes.

 

In Part 1, the focus is on how Hanyu came to perform the role of a shikigami—a spirit summoned by the onmyoji (sorcerer)—in this production, the order of the pieces “MANSAI Boléro” and “SEIMEI,” and the details of their planning and rehearsals.

 

What is "notte stellata"?

 

This program, titled “Notte Stellata”—Italian for “a sky full of stars”—was performed by Yuzuru Hanyu during the exhibition at the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics, and he now leads the production as its main star.

 

Hanyu was affected by the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake in his hometown of Sendai on March 11. He recalls seeing the starry night sky during the blackout and feeling it as a “light of hope.”

 

The show began in 2023, and over time Hanyu has performed alongside notable figures such as Kohei Uchimura, a two-time Olympic gold medalist in men’s gymnastics, and Mao Daichi, a well-known actress.

 

What can be done close to the spectator seats? Mansai's proposal to set up a Noh stage on the ice

 

— This time, you performed two pieces: “MANSAI Bolero” and “SEIMEI.” “MANSAI Bolero” was created and presented with the intention of conveying a message of remembrance and recovery following the Great East Japan Earthquake. Was it decided from the beginning that these two pieces would be performed at the ice show?

“I believe the idea to perform SEIMEI came first. When it was decided to hold the show in Rifu, Miyagi Prefecture, I was asked, ‘In addition to SEIMEI, what else would you like to do?’ Given the significance of the location, I said I would very much like to perform Bolero. That proposal came from me.”

 

— After the opening night on March 7, during Yuzuru Hanyu’s media interview, he mentioned that you were still saying ‘What should we do?’ after arriving in Miyagi. So at that point, it wasn’t finalized yet?

“When I said ‘What should we do?’ it wasn’t about MANSAI Bolero itself—I had already fully developed my part. I meant the collaboration with skating. I threw out a lot of wild ideas at first. When I looked at past collaborations in Notte Stellata, for example with Kohei Uchimura, they were performed side-by-side. A large part of the north side of the rink had to be blocked off, so only that space was usable. It worked for television, but from the audience’s perspective, it felt far away. So I proposed: couldn’t we do something closer to the audience? As for MANSAI Bolero, I made a bold suggestion—could we bring a Noh stage to the center of the rink and construct it there?”

 

— But isn’t it a bit much to put something like that on the ice, especially right before the skating performance?

“Yes, it was a massive undertaking. At first, we thought maybe we could mount the stage on top of the ice resurfacing machine, like a campaign van—that way it wouldn’t damage the ice and the stage could still function. Since a resurfacer moves easily, that seemed doable. But in the end, we went with a much more primitive method: we jacked up the stage and manually carried and set it in place.”

 

What is "MANSAI Bolero"?

 

The program was first performed by Mansai Nomura in 2011 at the Setagaya Public Theatre in Tokyo. It is a solo dance centered around Ravel’s Boléro and the Kyogen piece Sanbasō.

 

For this performance, a stage was set at the center of the rink. Mansai performed on the stage, while Yuzuru Hanyu and the other skaters performed on the ice surrounding it.

 

MANSAI Bolero is scheduled to be performed by Nomura at the “Three Generations of Kyogen Celebration: Grand Kyogen Festival 2025” on April 26, 2025, at Festival Hall in Osaka.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu as a Shikigami. The inevitable production was conceived during rehearsals.

 

— What were the dimensions of the Noh stage?

“They built it as a square, three ken (about 5.4 meters) on each side. For me, the significance lies more with Boléro, and I thought it would make more sense to place that performance later, considering the overall concept of the show. However, due to the need for ice resurfacing, it ended up being placed at the end of the first part. So, we placed this strange, foreign object — a stage — right in the center of the skating rink, resurfaced the ice afterward, and then started the second part with SEIMEI.

 

For SEIMEI, I didn’t like the idea of just staying far away on the rink and chanting spells from a distance, so I suggested, ‘What if I walk toward the audience seating area?’ In other words, I felt it wouldn’t be interesting if everything stayed confined to just the northern end of the rink. Even though the piece SEIMEI was inspired by my film Onmyoji, it’s also a hugely important program for Hanyu, who won a gold medal with it, so I didn’t want to impose too much. So then the question became: how do we bridge the time while Hanyu is resting? At that point, there’s no point in just fluttering around on the far north side.

 

So is the relationship between the two of them like two Abe no Seimei? There is the idea that the Seimei are swapped, but I think I said, 'Why not have Hanyu become a Shikigami?' Because he himself believes himself to be Seimei, I think I was being a little more reserved when I said it (laughs)."

 

“To turn Hanyu into a shikigami-like figure, I first drop a hitokata (a doll used in rituals). That is to say, everything that follows is within my spell — within my magical control. That’s the world of Onmyoji: you show this magical realm, and in the end, it all returns to just a paper doll.


Eventually, Hanyu’s heart began to soften,” (laughs) “At first, while I was performing, if Hanyu was just wandering around aimlessly, the audience wouldn’t know what to focus on. So in the end, we decided that he would kneel in the middle. I didn't directly say he was a hitokata or a shikigami, but I decided during rehearsal that I would summon him with a spell. That was when the line ‘Shutsugen Yuzuru Hanyu! Kyūkyū nyoritsuryō!’ (Appear, Yuzuru Hanyu! By the order of my spell!) came about.

 

— When was that rehearsal?

The day before or two days before opening night. When I breathed life into the doll, Hanyu appeared. I deliberately gave voice to that moment as ‘Shutsugen Yuzuru Hanyu.’ It naturally fit within the idea that he was something summoned from within a spell. That’s what you’d expect from a gold medalist — he just made it work.

 

— “Did the line ‘Shutsugen Yuzuru Hanyu’ (‘Appear, Yuzuru Hanyu’) come from a clear intention on your part to say it during the performance, or did it just sort of come out during rehearsal?”

“Well, I’m not an actual onmyoji in daily life,” (laughs) “so it’s not something that would just come out naturally. I deliberately chose to say it. I was watching the rehearsal footage and thought, ‘If he’s going to appear like this, then it should be done properly — like “Shutsugen Yuzuru Hanyu! Kyūkyū nyoritsuryō!” followed by a dramatic “ta-da!” — like he’s emerging from smoke.’ Since I come from the world of theater, I fundamentally follow a sense of narrative. I think maybe people haven’t noticed even now, but from my perspective, the pose he strikes at the end is like that of a (paper) doll.”

 

— It’s fate, isn’t it?

“It just turned out that way inevitably.”

 

“I Wanted to Recreate the Final Duel Scene with Hiroyuki Sanada from the Film Onmyoji”

 

— In the SEIMEI program, when you circled the outer edge of the rink, symbols of the Four Divine Beasts (shishin — the Azure Dragon of the East, the White Tiger of the West, the Vermilion Bird of the South, and the Black Tortoise of the North) were projected onto the ice, and finally, a pentagram appeared. Was including the Four Gods also your idea?

"I think that’s how it was.  When I suggested circling the outer edge, I also mentioned the idea of forming a barrier (kekkai) and ending with the appearance of the pentagram. I was trying to recreate the final scene from the film Onmyoji, where I faced off against Hiroyuki Sanada.
So I designed the performance so that as I moved around the rink, I would symbolically place the barrier points one by one, and in the end, the pentagram would be completed.”

 

“The original inspiration for SEIMEI is the movie, after all. And in my film, the ending was completely improvised — even the sound was added afterward. So there was no fixed choreography tied to specific points in the melody. Once we decided to include the Four Gods, more things fell into place. We built a small protruding stage along the outer edge of the rink.


The smoke effects were suggested by the special effects team. They said the smoke could help eliminate the time lag between when I’m waiting and when I begin the performance, so it would make the transition seamless.


The staff really supported me in those ways. Even for Boléro, when I asked, ‘Should we make it snow?’, we thought falling paper might interfere with the skating since it would accumulate on the ice. But then they said, ‘We can use bubble foam instead.’”

 

A Different Relationship Between the Two in Each Program — In MANSAI Bolero, Hanyu incorporated my movements as a physical embodiment of me.

 

— The major theme of "MANSAI Bolero" is the cycle of the four seasons and a human lifetime. Hanyu’s costume had long, kimono-like sleeves, and at moments, the colors looked like rice ears bathed in sunlight. Aside from the overall staging, did you have specific imagery in mind for individual parts of the performance?

"The concept of spring, summer, autumn, and winter was part of the original MANSAI Bolero, so the question was: what kind of relationship should I have with Hanyu this time? In SEIMEI, the relationship is that of Seimei and a shikigami — one who commands and one who is commanded. I thought, let’s not make it the same kind of relationship.

 

In this piece, I myself represent a god, and my costume is that of a phoenix. I visit people, and as a mythical bird of immortality, I bring them encouragement. I also conveyed the image of ‘watching from the sky.’ In that sense, this time, I could move freely. I told the skaters, including Shae-Lynn Bourne, that I wanted them to ‘die’ (within the performance). It might be a shock for those who actually experienced the earthquake disaster, but in the sense of rebirth from death, I wanted them to collapse and be lying dead. We discussed: how long can you remain lying on the ice? How can you physically manage to stay down? And, well, since that would be too emotionally painful if shown directly, we used black cloaks. The black and gray costumes symbolized death, and that worked well.”

 

“Since I can’t come down from the stage, Hanyu became the figure who directly engages with the people. I may have said things like: imagine the phoenix descending, or a divine messenger appearing. (Hanyu’s costume) is the manifestation of my costume, and in a sense, he is my alter ego. In Boléro, I think Hanyu-san plays the role of a ‘messenger,’ and he meets people as an alter ego. While I stuck to my set choreography, Hanyu and the rest worked over the three days of rehearsals to develop the performance, and I believe Hanyu incorporated my movements as a physical extension of me.”

 

“In the scene where we first encounter each other, I clap my hands — ‘pan!’ — and we mirror each other like a reflection. After I stomp out a rhythm with my foot, we step in sync with each other from the upper and lower stage positions. Hanyu said, ‘I can match you here,’ so he adjusted accordingly. In the spinning sequence — turning round and round and round — it was clear that he drew a lot of inspiration from the ending of the Onmyoji film. He imitated quite a bit. He must have watched it a lot. I was surprised by how much more he knew about Onmyoji than I did. It felt like he had watched it so many times it was practically worn out.

 

What was interesting was SEIMEI. It was like the opposite of Boléro. Since he’s done it many times, he has a sense of ease, but on my side, I was doing it while thinking through all kinds of things. Hanyu told me, ‘It’s okay to slow down the tempo on “Kyūkyū nyo-ritsu-ryō.” That way, it’s closer to the voice in the movie.’ He listens so carefully. On my side, I was still in the phase of trying to memorize the steps: what’s next, where do I need to dash to in how many seconds… so I wasn’t yet fully calm, but he was already saying things like that. I thought, ‘This guy must have been listening to my voice all along.”

 

I felt 'the heavens' as the skaters gracefully circled around the Noh stage.

 

— Did you share the direction and the storytelling aspects with Shae-Lynn Bourne, who choreographed the skaters for MANSAI Bolero?

"When we had the first remote meeting, I showed her my solo, and I mentioned that within it, there are the four seasons, the human lifespan, and themes of lamentation. I talked about the idea of the heavenly realm and the earthly realm, and also conveyed that I wanted people to fall and then be reborn, symbolizing death and resurrection. There was a request from Hanyu's side to make him a slightly different presence. When all six skaters were together, it was Shae-Lynn Bourne’s choreography, but when Hanyu skated alone, I think he choreographed that part himself."

 

— Did you ask the skaters to synchronize with your movements in the same way?

“This was my first time too, so I took the approach of matching wherever I could. For example, when everyone suddenly forms a wedge formation and moves forward, I thought maybe I could push from behind to support them — so I adjusted my movements for that. When I’m being still, I wanted them to be moving, and when it’s my moment to stand out, I wanted them to draw their focus inward instead. It gradually came together into something where, as if I were directly exchanging energy between the heavens and the earthly realm, I would also send energy to Satoko Miyahara on the east side, then the west side, north side — and together we would bring it all to the ending.”

 

"What felt the best, and this is really something you could never do on the ground, was when, as I circled around the stage, everyone else glided all the way around the Noh stage too. That’s something only ice skating can achieve. Ordinary people can’t run at such speed, but the skaters moved gracefully, gliding along, and it was such a wonderful feeling to watch. It really felt like, just as a god moves time forward, people were also sweeping forward in great spirals. What seemed to resonate with everyone was that, even though there was a distinction between the heavenly realm and the earthly realm, everything on the rink connected in a very effective way."

 

The surprising harmony between figure skating and Noh and Kyogen.

 

— Watching, I felt that figure skating and Noh and Kyogen were similar.

"The reason they harmonize so well is because, while the rink isn't a perfect square, it still has four sides. And the Noh stage is square. Above all, both emphasize the movement of the feet. In other words, it’s about how you move. In Noh and Kyogen, we show everything with our feet, and in figure skating, it’s the steps, which match the rhythm. But figure skating goes beyond the rhythm, drifting away from it, and skates in a way that transcends rhythm. Also, figure skating is a sport where you draw shapes. We, too, from a bird's-eye view, draw circles or semicircles, make straight lines, curves, and stop after spinning—these are the basics. So I think it was only natural that Hanyu-san became very interested in our movements. As a Japanese person, perhaps. If you come from a ballet background, it might all feel unrelated, but through this experience, I came to see how similar they really are. The beauty of the hand movements, the spinning and stopping, and the way the costume flows. Using a costume with sleeves like that in Bolero — I get the sense that he must really like that kind of thing, or rather, he must have studied a lot, including how to make the wind catch and flow through it."

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

2025.04.30

 

Source: https://deepedgeplus.kyodonews.jp/column/figureskating-art-cafe/105555/

 

[Part 2] Mansai Nomura on the Changes Over Ten Years — The loneliness of his fellow ‘Professional Yuzuru Hanyu,’ Who Is Pushing Ahead Toward What Only He Can Do

 

Nomura Mansai and Hanyu Yuzuru had a conversation 10 years ago. At that time, Mansai told Hanyu about the awareness that an artist should have, and the relationship between sound and the body. As a Kyogen performer, Mansai continues to challenge himself to express himself beyond genres, and has called himself "Professional Nomura Mansai." This time, he described Hanyu, who stands between athlete and artist as a professional, as "Professional Hanyu Yuzuru," calling him a comrade. He took part in the ice show "notte stellata," and praised him, saying, "I was deeply moved by the way he does things that only he can do in such a wonderful way."

 

Spoiler

Mansai teaches us not to match the music, but to wear the music.

 

—Ten years ago, when you had a conversation with Hanyu-san, you mentioned that he hadn’t yet fully put what was inside him into words. But at the press conference on the first day of notte stellata, you said that this time, it had taken form. When specifically did you feel that?

"He talks much more now. Back then, he was still an athlete, around 20 years old, spending all his time training. There was no need to verbalize anything, and before even thinking about putting things into words, the sport is about gaining points. What matters is whether you can do the technique or not.

 

But after turning professional and becoming an artist, the question became: what is it that he wants to express? When I met him ten years ago, I meant to tell him: don’t just perform without purpose. Don’t just raise your hand. If you raise it with the idea that heaven lies in that direction, or the earth, then an inevitable truth will be born from that intention. If you act with purpose, then necessity follows. I said something like that to him, and he realized it. He gained that sense of inevitability. And I also told him: 'Wrap yourself in sound. Don’t just match the music.' Let the sound wrap around you, and let your body become the expression of that music — I believe that’s what I told him."

 

"And then, knowing when to subtract — for example, deliberately not making a sound when you jump, and then creating a loud impact only at the end — or using the opposite direction on purpose. These are basics of performance, or rather, fundamentals of staging. They’re not really necessary for someone who only thinks about earning points. There’s no time to verbalize things, and even if you do put them into words, it’s meaningless if you can’t actually do it. But conversely, by verbalizing and having a sense of purpose, it’s no longer just a spin that somehow happened — it becomes something inevitable. You begin to move in sync with the sound naturally. It’s not about thinking, ‘I’ll perform here’ or ‘I’ll get points here,’ but rather, if you're wrapped in the music, you’ll naturally take flight.”

 

"He was already thinking that way from the beginning, which is why he pieces music together with incredible calculation. By carefully thinking through the structure — where to insert steps, where to let it flow — he creates a more effective performance. You mustn't repeat the same thing three times. There should be contrast: strong and weak, high and low, large and small. I intended to convey, implicitly, that you need a variety of combinations.

 

Watching SEIMEI, I could tell he had restructured it with those ideas in mind. And the person who stood before me 10 years later had developed that kind of mindset. To express something, you have to have the words to communicate your vision — otherwise the team around you can’t move with you. You have to show your purpose, you have to have a purpose. It’s easy to say in words, but over ten years, he really came to embody that awareness."

 

The balance between the Noh stage, its central axis, and the surrounding movements of figure skating.

 

—Mansai-san mentioned that in classical performing arts, where the lighting is limited, one must be able to create their own spotlight, to be the kind of person who can shine light on themselves. Is that something Hanyu embodies?

"There’s a spotlight (at ice shows), you know (laughs). But because he’s the kind of person who naturally draws it, everyone inevitably looks at Hanyu. I’ll never forget how, during ‘Bolero,’ even though everyone had been watching me up until that point, the moment Hanyu appeared, all eyes turned to him. At first, it was just me on stage, but then Hanyu came out, and everyone's heads turned towards him, curious about what kind of costume he was wearing. It made me laugh."

 

—I wanted to see how your rhythm—your moments of rushing across the Noh stage, or the quick changes in tempo—would blend with the rhythm of skating, but it was hard to watch both.

"I kind of understand that when everyone moves fast, the eye goes to the slower movements. When everyone is moving quickly, it’s hard to keep up, so perhaps they focus more on the center."

 

—When there’s a slower person in the middle of fast movements, that becomes the center of gravity or axis, doesn’t it?

"That’s something already established in Bon Odori (traditional Japanese dance). The reason I placed the Noh stage at the center is because it serves as the central axis. It’s meant to create a centripetal force. So when everyone moves in circles around it, the thing at the center gains strength — and that’s exactly the balance with ice skating. When I thought about figure skating as a kind of mathematical centripetal force, I also considered that if you drift too far to the north side, you’d end up out of view."

 

The loneliness and praise that only those who transcend boundaries as performers can understand.

 

—Mansai-san, you referred to Yuzuru Hanyu as "Professional Yuzuru Hanyu." You yourself also call yourself "Professional Mansai Nomura," but there seems to be a sense of solitude in your boundaryless, non-categorized activities. Wouldn't that be a difficult position for someone who expresses themselves?

"Yes, that's exactly it. "Professional Mansai Nomura" means there are things that only I can do. I'm a kyogen actor, but I don't just limit myself to kyogen. However, it's very lonely. For example, can a kyogen critic evaluate this "Bolero"? Or can an ice skating critic evaluate this "Bolero"? You know? It doesn't matter if it's enjoyable, but when it's divided into specific fields, for someone who crosses genres, it's rare to find someone who can evaluate all of Mansai Nomura as a whole."

 

"At that moment, Hanyu himself was saying, ‘I don’t use the word retirement as an athlete,’ and I thought, once again, this is someone who’s very careful with words. He was kind of mumbling his way through, wasn’t he? When you ask whether he’s fully come to terms with it, it feels like maybe he hasn’t — but maybe there’s no need for him to. That, in itself, is what it means to pursue something only Yuzuru Hanyu can do. He’s an athlete, but there might be people who wouldn’t call him just an athlete. If you call him an artist, he might not see himself as just an artist either. In the same way, even if I say I’m an actor, people would call me a kyogen performer. In that sense, he’s very solitary. But he has high aspirations, and I believe there are things only he can do. That’s why I gave him the name ‘Professional Yuzuru Hanyu.’ Watching him in 'notte stellata,' I was deeply moved by the way he’s doing something that only he can do, and doing it beautifully."

 

"That moment was truly something only Yuzuru Hanyu could do, and there’s no greater level of conviction than his. That’s wonderful. I was also very grateful for this opportunity and felt a real sense of fulfillment. I'm glad that I could do it. Of course, the support of various staff members was great, but there was also the magnetic force that is Yuzuru Hanyu. Talking with him, I felt, in a way, like a kindred spirit. His worldview, his sense of the universe, and he’s a public person, I think I said that too, but there’s a weight he carries. In that sense, he’s a comrade, a person with that kind of capacity. He’s pushing forward with things only he can do, putting his own matters aside. I’m really glad he was happy with the name 'Professional Yuzuru Hanyu.' Right now, he's truly 'Professional Yuzuru Hanyu.' I felt that he’s someone I can connect with on that level of awareness."

 

Two 'otherworldly' individuals connected to the universe... 'I guess we have similar ways of thinking.'

 

― It was so interesting that I couldn't believe it was completed in such a short time.

"Apparently, he watched my 'Boléro' a lot. He was saying things like, 'That part was pretty off-beat, wasn’t it?' (laughs). I also do a lot of improvisation, so he definitely watched it more closely than I did. He’s quick to pick up on what I’m trying to do, or maybe we have similar ways of thinking. When he started working with choreographer MIKIKO, I got a LINE message saying, 'While creating with Hanyu-kun, I kept thinking of you, Mansai-san. You both are so connected to “the universe.” I guess I’m a little 'otherworldly' too, in a way. Well, isn’t that what an Onmyoji is? Onmyoji are people who are connected to the universe. With ‘Bolero’ too, a normal person might wonder, ‘What does it mean to become a god?’ But in our line of work, we put on a mask and embody that moment of transforming into a god — like in the kyōgen piece ‘Sanbasō.’ And Hanyu is someone who’s deeply interested in that, who resonates with it, who’s inspired by it.”

 

"He certainly has that 'divine' quality in him. Otherwise, he couldn’t pull off such a grand production. It’s his sense of mission and that almost divine quality that allows him to express so much to others. We shared a kind of deep, unspoken sympathy, which is why everything came together so quickly in just a few days. I think it’s because he had studied it well. At the core of it all, the movements of figure skating and Noh are never far apart. The rhythm, the flow, the beats—sometimes the concept of beats even disappears. It’s like surrendering to the universe. When a human walks, you hear footsteps, but the moment you leap into the air, that rhythm suddenly disappears. I think the feelings and energy inside you change depending on whether you're just gliding or flying into space. I said that 10 years ago, so I thought, 'Let’s start with Tenchijin (Heaven, Earth, and Man).' For core fans, it's like a review of my teachings. I thought they would be happy with that, too (laughs)."

 

 

Reporter Profile
Rui Higashi, joined in 2009. From Ishikawa Prefecture. After working at the Nagasaki Bureau and the Sendai Editorial Department, she became responsible for traditional performing arts in the Culture Department starting in 2023. Her favorite skaters include Tessa Virtue & Scott Moir, and Johnny Weir.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

2025.05.22

 

Source: Sports Graphic Number 1120: June 2025 issue, pg 68-69

 

Yuzuru Hanyu: "Speaking About the Moments I Hit Rock Bottom"
"Even When Faced With Fear and Despair"

 

As a young boy, he lost access to a training environment. As an athlete, he faced relentless battles with injury. No matter the trials he encountered, Yuzuru Hanyu continued to break through walls. This special feature presents an excerpt from a documentary program produced by our magazine.

 

Text by: Takaomi Matsubara
Photography by: Kiichi Matsumoto
Sports Graphic Number TV | Episode 21

 

Spoiler

With back-to-back Olympic gold medals and a shining competitive career behind him, Yuzuru Hanyu now shines even more brightly as a professional figure skater. While his skating career may appear dazzling on the surface, he himself says, "I've seen rock bottom over and over again."

 

"There were many times when I faced situations where I didn’t know if I’d be able to continue skating."

 

Among those, he says the hardest time was "when I was in elementary school."

 

"To begin with, I wasn’t someone who won from the start. From what I remember, I couldn't win for quite a while after I started skating. But when I was nine, in fourth grade, I entered my first national-level competition and won."

 

That was at the All-Japan Novice Championship in October 2004. After delivering a flawless performance and claiming the title, he went on to win his first international competition in Finland two months later. Reflecting on that time, he says, "I was filled with confidence."

 

It was a season where he believed 100% in the future ahead of him. But unexpectedly, that path took a dark turn. Shortly after the Finland competition, the local rink in his hometown of Sendai, his main training base, was closed due to financial difficulties. Searching for a place where he could continue skating, he joined another club. But with a new coach and a much longer commute, both the quantity and quality of his practice time dropped drastically.

 

"I was barely able to land a double axel or a triple jump, while the other kids around me were nailing triple jumps with ease. I felt like I was being left behind. No matter how hard I worked in those limited conditions, I kept slipping further behind. It was frustrating, and I was scared. I felt a kind of despair, like I had no potential left to grow."

 

This hopeless period lasted until October of his sixth-grade year. What helped him recover was, again, a change in environment. The rink reopened, and he was able to focus more on training. Around the same time, he started working with a coach who had studied under the very teacher who had taught him the basics of skating. From that point, he quickly gained consistency in his triple jumps.

 

"I realized how important it is to take that extra step instead of settling for the current situation. I also felt that the foundational skills I had worked on as a child were finally connecting with who I was then. It’s not just about working hard, it’s about finding the method that suits you."

 

Another major low point he talks about is his battle with injury.

 

"When I got injured and couldn’t train, I lost muscle strength, and the injured area would hurt even more… It wasn’t just starting from zero, it felt like going into the negatives. That’s something I’ve experienced."

 

One example was his injury during official practice at the 2017 NHK Trophy. It was later diagnosed as a lateral ligament injury in his right ankle. It was serious.

 

"I don’t know how to explain it… It was like all the work I’d done just crumbled away in an instant."

 

And no wonder, he was just three months away from the PyeongChang Olympics.

 

"After that, the only thing I could do was keep doing what I could each day. I couldn’t skate for such a long time. So I focused entirely on things like physical therapy, treatment, and rehab. I kept experimenting and finding ways to stay engaged. But losing the feel for the ice and watching my strength fade was hard. Seeing other skaters land jumps and post scores while I was out was nothing but terrifying."

 

“The Word ‘Setback’—A Term He Had Never Used”

 

He only returned to the ice after the new year. The gap in training was long, and he had no opportunity to compete before the Olympics. Still, he didn’t lose hope. He didn’t give up.

 

"Even when I wasn’t sure if I’d be selected for the Olympic team, the idea of not doing what I could wasn’t even on the table. Maybe it was the experience of living through the Great East Japan Earthquake that gave me a higher threshold for pain and sadness. Or maybe the tough experiences I had in elementary school had already trained me mentally. I don’t know, but that’s possible."

 

That resolve led to his second straight Olympic gold. But the story also highlights something striking: as far as can be recalled from his interviews, press conferences, and post-competition comments, Hanyu had never used the word “setback.”

 

"That’s right," he nodded without hesitation, and continued:

 

"In my mind, a setback is when you stop and give up. But in my case, when I hit a wall, I have to get through it. It’s just who I am. Instead of saying I’ve hit a setback, I immediately start thinking about how to overcome it. That’s my approach."

 

He’s seen rock bottom many times. Each time, he’s felt the terror and despair of being crushed. But he’s never stopped. Even when he lost his training base as a boy, even after multiple serious injuries, he kept going. His refusal to label those moments as setbacks is what allowed him to overcome them. His powerful mental strength to turn hitting bottom into an opportunity for further growth is the true essence of Yuzuru Hanyu.

 

To see the full story, including the emotions that surged through him at the PyeongChang rink and his unwavering pursuit of excellence, watch the full episode of “Setback Stories.”

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...

2025.06

 

Source: THE BOOK "Echoes of Life" (pre-order period: 2025/02/09 - 2025/04/07, Shipment from late May to early June)

 

https://weibo.com/6473801248/Pv7WuAhed

https://weibo.com/6473801248/Pv822gXjX

https://weibo.com/6473801248/Pv83N1yjl

https://weibo.com/6473801248/Pv9Vigqmn

 

 

Executive producer and performer: Hanyu Yuzuru Interview

 

Spoiler

[Writing the Original Story]

 

— Echoes began with the story being written first, correct?

This time, right from the start, I had a very, very strong desire to create a story not about Hanyu, but about a new character named Nova. I wanted to build ICE STORY around that. And since I was going to do it, I wanted to go all in and see it through completely. So I thought through the setting in great detail, like what kind of sounds should surround someone like Nova? These were things I had to consider when choosing music. Of course, there are a lot of elements in the setting that aren’t actually shown in the final work, but having all of that detail helped me get closer to Nova emotionally while creating the story. It allowed me to think deeply: What kind of child is Nova? What is the guide (the narrator) thinking? What did Itsuna (VGH-127) leave behind…?

 

— In your mind, what kind of child is Nova?

That child... When I was writing the story, I intentionally designed his personality so that it could appear different depending on who’s watching and from what perspective. To me, he’s very lonely. Even though he hates fighting, he’s unexpectedly good at it. He always says he really doesn’t want to fight, and yet he fights so coolly. I think that’s because he understands the mission and meaning behind his existence, and has the strength to accept it. It might sound strange coming from me—the person playing him—but in Goliath, when he has to fight his own shadow, his emotions shift every time. Sometimes during the fight he’s thinking, “I have to destroy every shadow or the world will end,” but other times, even though he’s filled with negative feelings like “I really don’t want to do this,” his body is so used to fighting that he ends up doing it anyway, almost out of resignation.

In the storybook, there isn’t much description of Nova’s personality. It’s only in the visual representation that you see subtle things, like a change in his expression when he touches a flower. But in the written story itself, there’s no description of those expressions. I intentionally wrote it that way so that the viewer’s own emotions could be reflected onto Nova.

 

[My Philosophy of Figure Skating = The Piano]

 

— The Piano Collection in the first act was absolutely spectacular!

This time, when I thought, “If I’m going to make philosophy the theme, then what is my philosophy of figure skating?” What came to mind, as expected, was the piano. I felt that expressing classical piano to its fullest is the foundation of my figure skating. From the beginning, I had been thinking about creating an approximately 8-minute-long continuous piano-only performance.

At one point, I even considered that since I’d be consistently highlighting the piano, maybe I didn’t need to include “Ballade no. 1” after all. But as I began developing the story, laying out each thematic element one by one, I realized: “This part absolutely has to be 'Ballade no. 1’.” Moreover, it had to be the version that was skated at the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics, with the second half progressing layer by layer with intensity. Anything less just wouldn’t be acceptable to me. At first, I thought this program might be a little easier. After all, in “Dark Messenger” from RE_PRAY, I landed three quads as cleanly as in a free skate, including two in the second half. But this time, the cancellation of the six-minute warm-up and the fact that the Piano Collection didn’t serve as a warm-up the way I had hoped for had a major impact on me. The Piano Collection was originally designed to serve the role of the six-minute warm-up. But in the end, it turned into a segment that had to be prepared in darkness and skated under intense pressure, where absolutely no mistakes or missed notes were allowed, all while gradually draining my physical energy.

 

— Why did the Piano Collection turn into such a physically and mentally demanding segment?

Because if I’m going to perform in sync with the music, then something half-baked, like just going through the motions, obviously wouldn’t cut it. And since this part is labeled as “Philosophy,” I absolutely couldn’t go easy on it. Plus, with the incredible music that Kiyozuka created for me, if I wanted my performance to resonate with his piano, I had no choice but to give it everything I had. Looking back on it now, that’s how I feel.

 

— In your conversation with Kiyozuka, the discussion about the order of the fourth and fifth pieces in the Piano Collection was really interesting.

The fourth piece is Chopin’s Étude Op. 25, No. 12 in C minor, often called “Ocean.” It’s in C minor and is the final piece in the set of 12 études—so it gives a sense of closure. C minor, in particular, carries a feeling of “the end.” But in the Piano Collection, there’s a fifth piece that comes after it. That fifth piece is Chopin’s Étude Op. 10, No. 4 in C-sharp minor, known as “Torrent.” Being in C-sharp minor, it feels more like “a beginning from here.” So Kiyozuka and I debated this for quite a while. In the end, I decided it would be cooler to use the fourth piece (Op. 25-12 in C minor) for the spin section and the fifth piece (Op. 10-4 in C-sharp minor) for the step sequence. That arrangement just had more impact. Plus, Ballade No. 1 would follow after that anyway. So we ultimately settled on the order: 25-12, then 10-4.

 

— Indeed, the C minor piece has a sense of ending. 

Yes, exactly! That “DUN—” at the end of the fourth piece makes you feel like, “Ah… it’s like a god really just ascended.” Even if you don’t understand music at all, somehow you still get caught up in that emotional pull. I find it really fascinating that music can give people such similar impressions from certain frequencies. Long before humans had language or writing, music was used in rituals, wasn’t it? So maybe from ancient times, even for animals, certain frequencies carried deep meaning.

At that moment, I thought, “Wait, isn’t this exactly what philosophy is?” Just like how there’s philosophy expressed through language, or how people’s emotional responses to watching a spin can become their own kind of philosophy, there’s also a kind of philosophy that comes from how we feel when we hear C minor. These different philosophies came together and intertwined to form the Piano Collection. That’s the mindset I had while creating it.

 

[Poetry and Improvisation]

 

— I heard you wrote quite a lot of poetry?

Yes, I really did write a lot. I actually created two versions—one was "Awake (Stepping onto a New Path)," which was used in Part 1, and the other was "When Fate Whispers Softly," which was used in Part 2. The “Awake” version was written alphabetically, from A to Z. I originally intended to use both versions in the 'Poem' program, but in the end, the version used in the second half was "When Fate Whispers Softly."

I wrote 30 stanzas of that one in a single go. I remember I based them on four themes: “past,” “future,” “present,” and “myself,” and wrote many lines for each theme. Then MIKIKO-sensei and her team selected and arranged the stanzas for the final performance. As for the “Awake” version that wasn’t used, there were still gaps between the pieces in the Piano Collection that needed to be filled, so I suggested trying out the unused lines there.

 

— The 'Poem' performance was so dreamy and beautiful... Was all of that improvised?

The sections like “In this moment, time stops” and “This moment is a fleeting light” were choreographed to sync with ELEVENPLAY’s movements. Everything else was improvised. The synchronized parts were choreographed by MIKIKO-sensei.

What’s interesting is how different people interpret language and how words evoke different feelings and inspire different movements in each of us. I think that really reflects the multifaceted, diverse nature of human beings. The four dancers in this performance all have completely different backgrounds and specialties in dance, so that’s probably why such distinct movements emerged from each of them.

 

— Can improvisation be done so quickly?

At first, I found it really difficult. Without training to connect movement with language, it’s hard to do, and you easily fall into repeating the same motions. But I pushed myself to squeeze something out, no matter what! When I was practicing 'Poem' off-ice, I realized something. My movements tend to rely heavily on my legs.

We would form a circle—me and the four ELEVENPLAY dancers. One person would step into the center and perform, while the others watched and then responded, expanding on it through their own movement. We took turns, passing inspiration around like a chain of creativity. The other dancers could stay in place or express themselves just with their upper bodies, but I noticed I was always using my legs more than anything else.

For example, in Mass Destruction during the “ooh yeah da-dada-dada, dada-dada” or “baby baby” sections, I always match the rhythm with my legs, right? Even when I’m just practicing on the floor, I naturally throw in counters or rockers and end up doing a little cluster movement (laughs). That’s definitely because I’m a figure skater! It’s part of who I am, and I think that’s one of my distinctive traits. It’s something I’ve developed through years of training and expressing myself on the ice, and it naturally comes out even when I dance.

 

— And that’s what makes it so interesting, right?

Exactly! So I don’t want to lose that uniqueness. But if I only rely on what I already know, my upper body movements end up looking half-hearted. To break out of that, I try to let go of myself and step into someone else’s shoes. I watch different kinds of performances and think about what angles or qualities I like, then quietly absorb them. But I can’t just copy them directly. I have to internalize the essence, and from there, I let my body and heart do the rest. It’s a continuous process of trial and error.

That’s how the 'Poem' performance came to be. Even I watch some of those movements now and think, “Why did I do that move back then?” Every single time, the movements are different and can’t be replicated.


[What Is “Choreography,” What Is “Improvisation”]

 

— Hanyu-san, as the overall director of your productions, you have to think about the meaning behind the placement of each program, manage the entire flow of the show, and at the same time, each piece carries deep personal emotions for you. When you're actually performing, what kinds of thoughts are running through your mind?

Honestly… I'm just giving it everything I’ve got. That’s all. But what I find really interesting about figure skating is that it has music, choreographed movements, and such rich performance design. So no matter what emotions I’m feeling while skating, I can always convey some level of feeling through those elements. That's why sometimes I rely on that. Especially with Ballade no. 1, I’m sure everyone holds different memories of it in their hearts, so I just trust in those memories and focus on skating it cleanly and beautifully.

 

— Especially for Ballade no. 1?

Yes, when I’m performing Ballade no. 1 or the Piano Collection, there’s really no room to think about anything else. Take Tenchi, for example, the heaven and earth is really a state of “nothingness,” a sense that all things are impermanent. I don’t think about anything when I skate it. SEIMEI is the same. I’m not fighting against anything when I perform it.

And yet, people always seem to see something in it, don’t they? I think that’s really fascinating. That’s what choreography is, and it shows just how powerful choreography can be. And beyond just the choreography, there’s also stage design, the emotions of the performer... it all comes together.

 

— What about the “choreography” in something like GATE OF STEINER?

There wasn’t any.

 

— That’s true, there really wasn’t any. When I was watching the finale performance, just seeing you skate so fast—just that alone moved me deeply. But at the same time, I had this vague sense that there weren’t really any choreographed movements. And if that program truly didn’t have any “choreography,” then it means that even something without choreography can still move people. That really made me start wondering… what is choreography, anyway?

But I still think choreography is necessary. I mean, I don’t think it’s okay for everything to be improvised. There are definitely moments that must be set, like, “This move needs to convey this meaning,” or “This moment has to be fixed.” Those are essential. In a way, it’s like the concept of kata (forms) in classical ballet—how a certain pose or movement carries a specific meaning. And this doesn’t just apply to classical ballet. It’s the same in Noh theater. In fact, across many forms of physical expression, “forms” exist. And only when you’ve mastered those forms can you break them. That’s where improvisation can begin.

In GATE OF STEINER, there was almost no choreography. But even so, there were still unspoken rules like, “At this point, this movement needs to happen.” As for the finale performance, from the start I had already decided: I was going to skate it all out, give everything I had, and just keep pushing forward with everything in me. GATE OF STEINER is a story of traveling through time and different world lines, and then finally, gently pushing open a door. It represents this message to everyone who has always been pushing me forward from behind: “This last time, let me be the one to push you forward.” And then I move into the next phase. That’s something I had in mind from the very beginning of the program’s design. But you know, that story (Steins;Gate) rarely ends in a happy ending. The character is constantly tossed around by fate. It’s a piece that, even though it ends with faith in the future that fate has laid out… what comes after that remains unknown. Maybe it didn’t end in happiness. Maybe it ended with giving up. But just for the finale performance, I wanted to run with everything I had, reach out as hard as I could, and express a burning will to go on, to keep moving forward. That’s not really something you can convey through choreography.

'Poem' is like that too. If we had set choreography for it, it would’ve ended up feeling more like a musical arrangement—structured, arranged, and too neat. The raw emotions wouldn’t be able to flow naturally anymore. Of course, it’s also possible to build emotion on top of choreography, but if we’d choreographed 'Poem', it would’ve come across as “just a dance routine.” And I think that’s the key difference between improvisation and choreography.

 

[Destiny and Will: A Flawless Finale and the Power of Preparedness]


—The final show was flawless, and the entire performance was absolutely stunning!

Ah well, that was really thanks to everyone… There were several jumps where, honestly, from the moment I took off to the instant I landed on one foot, I kind of zoned out. But somehow, I still landed them. It felt a bit like the last Lutz in the free skate at PyeongChang.

 

—Wait, you zoned out but still landed the jumps?!

Well, technically speaking, it’s because all the training I’ve done over the years has been deeply ingrained in both my body and my mind, so my body just executed the movements automatically. There’s no doubt about that. But how can I explain it... I really felt like everyone’s strength was flowing into me in that moment. The staff had seen how hard I was training in the venue, and everyone had this strong, shared feeling of, “Let’s do this together!” I think that sense of unity is what made the performance come together the way it did. I felt like everyone shared the same vision, working toward the same goal. And I was in this space free of distractions, completely focused. It reminded me a lot of the 2017 World Championships in Helsinki. Back then, I was in a tough spot after the short program. I placed fifth, which felt almost hopeless. From that point on, everyone around me knew exactly how far I had to push myself to win. The atmosphere in the arena was filled with this collective energy of “You’ve got to land it!” That season, the Hope & Legacy program struggled to gain recognition, and I couldn’t perform it well for a long time. Similarly, Echoes of Life this time around hadn’t reached a perfect state either, because I kept struggling with Ballade no. 1. So in that sense, it really did feel a bit like Helsinki. No matter how focused I am, I can’t create that kind of atmosphere by myself. But because this was a tour, and because we all went through so much together over the course of the season, there was this incredible sense of cohesion during the final show.

Honestly, I think it was nothing short of a miracle.

 

—The theme of Echoes of Life, though described as philosophical, actually touches on many fundamental questions—such as “life,” “what it means to be alive,” “time,” and “who am I.”

As the core of an introduction to philosophy, what I ultimately think of is “life.” To expand on the idea of “life,” you need to understand the “present” and the “timeline.” And in order to understand the “timeline,” you first have to understand the “self.” So I structured the content almost like a course, arranging it in a systematic way. The Room Guide offers prompts to encourage philosophical thinking step by step, and in the end, asks the audience: “What is the answer to your life?”

 

—Then what is the meaning of life for Nova?

That’s something I’ll leave to everyone’s imagination. To be honest, I’ve already decided how it ends in my own mind. The production team probably knows, too. But I think… it’s better if I don’t say it out loud.

 

[The Existence of People Who Watch with Pure Interest and Enjoy It]


—After RE_PRAY, you mentioned that you had become able to rely on your fans. Now that a year has passed, looking at the atmosphere at your shows and within the Hanyu community, it feels like that environment has evolved into something even more open...

I know what you mean, that kind of warm feeling. For example, this time in Echoes of Life, I used classical music. The people who have always supported me probably felt something like, “As expected, Hanyu skating to classical music is just the best. This kind of traditional figure skating program really is wonderful.” And beyond that, because it’s ICE STORY, the stage design and artistic elements also allow people who work in the arts or love art, and those who genuinely love music, to experience it and think, “This really is great.” Not only that, even people drawn in from the areas I personally love like games and anime can enjoy it too. There are people who have been here since long ago, and new people joining in, and there is no hatred in this place. Everyone watches out of pure interest, and I think because it’s a gathering place filled with quality works, everyone is able to find joy in it. In the end, I really think that’s the most important thing.

Back when I was competing, because there were wins and losses, I think the people who fought alongside me probably felt regret too or hoped for me to win if I felt frustration. But that part doesn’t exist anymore. At the same time, though, we can still share in the feeling of “I know you wanted to deliver a perfect performance.” Newcomers in the audience can simply think, “That was beautiful—” I hope this can create a kind of positive cycle.

 

—Recently, you've been giving your all in performances like ICE STORY, and at other times you’re busy creating programs or doing all kinds of livestreams on YouTube. You seem to be working hard on many things. Though your schedule looks very full, it also seems like you’re enjoying this kind of life. How do you feel about your current days?

I do feel very fulfilled. I’m surrounded by amazing people. No matter what ideas I bring up, they always respond; no matter what I try to do, they help turn it into something really good. I trust them that much. So right now, I feel like I’m being really greedy, in a good way, chasing after things I want to do, things I want to challenge myself with, things I want to improve. That’s how it feels.

To be honest, for example, at the Hiroshima performance, in terms of expression, I thought it was very good. I felt it was a great show. But in terms of the jumps, there were parts I regretted. Like we talked about earlier with choreography. Even though there were things I regretted, I think my performance still managed to come across well, and that’s thanks to the strength of the production design. Challenging myself to that level definitely involves risk, but because there are people I can rely on and entrust things to, I feel safe trying. Right now, I’m surrounded by people I can call my teammates, or maybe it’s better to say I’ve been fortunate to meet people I can share ideas with, people who help expand my thinking. So I feel like, no matter what I do, it’ll be okay.

 

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

2025.06

 

Source: THE BOOK "Echoes of Life" (Pre-order period: 2025/02/09 - 2025/04/07, Shipment from late May to early June)

https://weibo.com/ttarticle/p/show?id=2309405174925811384382

 

Direction: MIKIKO Interview

 

Spoiler

Directing a Stage Performance Based on an Original Work

 

——This is already the third time ICE STORY has been produced. Compared to the previous two installments, were there any major differences in terms of production design?

The biggest challenge this time was that we were working with an original source material and had to adapt it into a live-action performance. When people read a manga or novel first and then watch a live-action adaptation, the difficulty lies in having to go beyond what each person imagined in their own mind. Personally, that aspect really stumped me at the beginning. As for Hanyu’s performances on the ice, we could reference his past works, so I felt a bit more at ease there. But the video segments—that part really felt tricky and had to be approached with great care. The footage needed to have a near-futuristic style, but exactly what kind of near-future? Should it lean toward a 2.5D anime aesthetic, or take on more of a fantasy tone? That all depended on the video director. Since the themes included things like a desolate world and war, I wanted to soften those elements through visuals so the audience could ease into the story more comfortably. And since everything had to be done using CGI, we needed someone with deep CG knowledge and refined aesthetic sensibilities. With all of that in mind, we brought in director Jun Tamukai, whose style is very modern and who has a great sense of working in 3D space. I believed he could rise to the challenge.

 

——What was the most difficult aspect of the production design this time?

Honestly, just about every part could be considered a struggle, but the biggest challenge was figuring out which parts of the original story to cut and how to do that while staying true to the narrative while still making the story clear and engaging. That took a lot of thought. First, I read the original work over and over. Then, to ensure the audience would be able to understand the story even on their first viewing, the whole team contributed their impressions and questions. Everyone involved in the production shared their perspectives, saying things like “I didn’t quite get this part,” or “What about this scene?” Through this process, we refined the script together. From there, we collectively considered which moments were best conveyed through visuals alone, and which needed to be explained through narration. It was a collaborative effort across the whole team.

 

——How did Nova’s visual design come to life?

It was developed through discussions among director Tamukai, producer Mamoru Inagaki, stylist Tsuyoshi Takahashi who designed Nova’s costume, hair and makeup artist Ryoji Inagaki, Hanyu, and myself. Together, we had conversations along the lines of “maybe something like this,” “this direction feels right,” and gradually shaped Nova’s look step by step. Initially, I think Hanyu wanted to tone down his own identity as “Yuzuru Hanyu” in the portrayal. But considering how to let him embody Nova in the most natural and authentic way, we eventually arrived at the visual presentation you see now.

 

——This time, the performance was almost entirely carried by Hanyu alone. Was there anything you paid special attention to in that regard?

Since there are two distinct characters appearing in this production, we aimed to keep the video structure as simple as possible so the audience could easily understand each character’s role. During the alternating sequence of video and live performance—video, skating, video, skating—there are moments where the Nova in the video wears black, while the Nova who appears on the ice wears a different costume. That might cause viewers to wonder, “Wait, who is the one on the ice right now?” To prevent that kind of confusion and to make the costume changes feel more natural, we came up with a setting where Nova passes through a white door to transform. We created a scene that visually represents a game-like costume change, helping the audience interpret Nova’s appearance on the ice as part of a transformation process. As for the guide character, we did consider whether it could be played by someone else or perhaps even designed as a mascot-like character using CG. But Hanyu had very specific thoughts about the guide’s personality and presence, and he felt strongly that it would be best if all the roles in ICE STORY were performed by himself. So in the end, we chose to respect his vision and worked on ways to ensure that even first-time viewers wouldn’t feel confused by the structure or character presentation.

 

Philosophy Expressed Through Piano Collection and Poem

 

——The stage design showing the Piano Collection skating over the sheet music was absolutely stunning!

I think from the very beginning, Hanyu already had the concept of the Piano Collection in mind. When I first heard his idea, an image immediately came to my mind of him gliding across the musical staff, surrounded by falling notes drifting all around. But in reality, bringing this to life was much more difficult than I had imagined. Because our concept was to have him glide over a handwritten-style score, we asked professionals to transcribe the sheet music by hand based on the pieces played by Kiyozuka. Then we separated the staff lines and the notes, releasing them sequentially in sync with the music. However, this task could only be completed by someone who can both read and write music notation and understands music deeply. Asking the video production team alone to do this was very challenging. Moreover, no matter how well the timing was controlled, if the visuals weren’t interesting enough, it wouldn’t work. To balance these elements, we kept researching and refining. Since we wanted even people very knowledgeable about music to not find faults when watching, we made multiple revisions. However, the audience is there to watch Hanyu’s performance, so instead of focusing solely on whether the score was perfectly accurate, we placed more importance on whether it was fun to watch together with Hanyu’s performance. Moving in that direction, sometimes we designed the scrolling screen to look like piano keys, and other times the notes would scatter down like raindrops, constantly expanding our creative ideas. Generally, projections are cast onto screens of specific shapes, perfectly controlling the images within those boundaries. But we deliberately broke that concept, trying to let the sheet music overflow beyond the screen and fill the entire venue.

 

——The 'Poem' in the latter half was also quite impressive.

We designed the first and second halves so that the Piano Collection and the Poem would echo each other. At first, for the Poem section, Hanyu only wrote the word “poetry,” which left me a bit puzzled, wondering, “What exactly does he want to do here?” (laughs), so I put it aside for a while. After some time, I asked him, “What exactly do you want to do with the poetry part?” He said he wanted to use a certain training method from ELEVENPLAY to create the work. This training goes like this: I would recite a poem aloud, and the dancers would use their bodies to “voice” the poem through movements that reflect its meaning, rhythm, intonation, or emotional fluctuations. Four dancers face each other and practice repeatedly, and eventually, even without my reciting, the four dancers have the poem flowing synchronously in their minds, enabling them to coordinate perfectly in silence. Hanyu had also done this kind of training, and this time he wanted to incorporate it into the performance. Essentially, it is a practice of harmonizing the spirit through improvisational movement. To present it as a work, we first needed to experiment with various approaches. After deciding on this, Hanyu immediately wrote a large number of foundational poems and handed them to me. He really wrote so many that we found it difficult to decide which ones to select. Like the Piano Collection, the Poem scene was something Hanyu already had a vivid image of in his mind before creating the original work. To make this scene leave a strong impression in the performance, I felt it was best to have it appear somewhat transcendent. Therefore, we carefully chose poems that highlight Hanyu’s unique linguistic style. During the creative process, we had to stay close to the story, ensure that the numerous poems, large-scale projections, and ELEVENPLAY’s dance did not clash with each other, and at the same time let the poems expressing Nova’s inner emotions linger in the audience’s ears. This was truly a headache for us, but also a luxurious creative experience. I feel the background music flowing in the poetry scene acted like seasoning, providing excellent enhancement.

 

—Did he really write that many poems?

He really did! I half-jokingly said to him, “Isn’t it about time to submit the poems?” and he suddenly handed over a whole bunch (laughs). I think there were about 20 to 30 poems that didn’t even get used in the performance. Some are in the style of combining words and phrases like “Awake: Stepping onto a whole new path,” covering from A to Z, and others are themed poems like those in the second half. He wrote many of both kinds.

 

—So there are two forms of poetry?

Yes, but initially we didn’t plan to use the “Awake: Stepping onto a whole new path” type at all. Before the Saitama performance, we originally planned to present just music during the 30-second intervals between each piece of the Piano Collection. But while doing lighting and video simulations, we felt those 30-second gaps needed more meaningful stage design to fill them. I was racking my brain about what to use, and then I told Hanyu about this dilemma. He said, “Here, words and music are interconnected. These words come from the many books in Nova’s Room, and those words become the music of the five pieces—that’s the concept.” So we finally agreed, “Ah! This is the moment for those poems to appear!” When choosing the poems, we made sure they corresponded to the five pieces individually and also echoed the Poem scenes in the second part.

 

—So that’s how the structure works!

Regarding those five pieces, Hanyu also sent us detailed explanations about the music and the composers. He said, “I don’t think these explanations need to be included in the performance, but I’m sending them to you anyway.” After reading them, we learned a lot. The Piano Collection and Poem scenes involved very complex work, from calculating the scrolling screen to all the other details. The staff and I kept refining it like doing “a thousand trainings” (a baseball metaphor for repetitive practice). Thanks to this, we finally managed to present a quite captivating scene.

 

—At the end of the performance, Nova seems to walk through an orange panel and disappear somewhere. Where is he going?

For the ending, I want to leave the interpretation up to each audience member. One great thing about this story is the positive feeling of “Come on, let’s go, let’s start…” Although the path ahead is unseen and scary, there’s a strong and bright image of facing forward and moving bravely onward. From the very beginning of designing the art concept, I wanted the ending to be a silhouette walking toward a tunnel or an endless road. After many reviews, that image was finally realized on stage.

 

[What Takes Time and Effort]

 

—Did you discover anything new this time?

When Hanyu was practicing the rap part of "Mass Destruction," Emmy, the choreographer, pointed out, “If the intensity is too strong, it won’t feel like hip-hop. Maybe you could consciously practice how to relax.” Of course, giving it his all is one of Yuzuru Hanyu’s great strengths, but we told him that to dance coolly even without that full intensity, he needed to consciously practice relaxing his body. That was a completely new kind of training for him (laughs).

 

—This must have been his first time doing that kind of training (laughs).

Exactly! After being reminded, Hanyu earnestly and diligently practiced not to use excessive force when dancing. But later, we found that when he wore his skates and danced on ice, if he didn’t put in enough effort, it looked like he was slacking off. We realized that dancing on ice is completely different from dancing on a floor. So then we told him, “Maybe there’s a way to look composed and relaxed without using too much strength. If you can develop that, it would be amazing.” It sounds simple, but I imagine it’s really difficult to achieve. Still, he understood the necessity and, through continuous practice, ultimately reached that professional level.

 

—That’s a unique suggestion only you as a teacher could have made.

Since Hanyu was putting his life on the line, we couldn’t be careless or slack off, and excuses were out of the question. That was the unspoken consensus from the start. ICE STORY itself is like a form of training or ascetic practice. Even though I feel like I’ve overcome countless challenges and created many things, I keep discovering there are even higher mountains to climb. Using all the wisdom and experience accumulated so far to challenge new fields strengthens us, and I’ve also learned from Hanyu the importance of continuously challenging oneself. This show really requires more preparation time than any other performance, but I think we shouldn’t forget the value of investing such enormous time and effort into the work. These days, it’s hard to find staff who will stick with us and give it their all at this level. Everyone is truly going all out—and most importantly, everyone is enjoying the process.

 

— This is a place where everyone works together to create an outstanding work...

We’re always filled with tension. Everyone is driven by the mindset of “We can’t lose to Hanyu. Let’s overcome this challenge together!” Hanyu never forcefully emphasized, “I’m giving it my all,” but everyone just felt it. We all firmly believe that Hanyu will turn this into an amazing production. Because of that, we want to respond to him, and even surpass him. We hope that everyone who experiences this work, including the audience, can share in seeing the most beautiful scenery together.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

2025.06

 

Source: THE BOOK "Echoes of Life" (Pre-order period: 2025/02/09 - 2025/04/07, Shipment from late May to early June)

Source: https://weibo.com/ttarticle/p/show?id=2309405174507181834385

 

 

Music: Hanyu Yuzuru x Kiyozuka Shinya Discussion

 

Spoiler

[The Sensitivity Emanating from the Music Selection]

 

 The Piano Collection was simply amazing!

Hanyu: Regarding the Piano Collection, from the very beginning I wanted to make this part a philosophical chapter. We discussed whether that would mean skating to classical music in the context of figure skating. Then the two of us really put our heads together and thought hard about how to select the music.

Kiyozuka: So basically, the goal was to express the essence of figure skating, that very abstract and artistic quality, without relying on a storyline, right? But honestly, when I first heard the concept, I thought to myself, “Does that mean you're going to be on the ice the whole time?!” At first I felt like I couldn’t even understand what he was saying anymore...

Hanyu: What I said back then was basically, “Yes, stay on the ice the whole time” (laughs).

Kiyozuka: I understood what he meant literally, but it just didn’t feel like something a real human could actually do. I was honestly thinking, “Did I misunderstand something here?” (laughs)

Hanyu: What I was aiming for wasn’t something emotional or story-driven, but rather a straightforward connection between piano and skating. I told him from the start, “Yeah, it really has to be piano music.”

Kiyozuka: That's right. We didn’t just want this to resonate with fans and the general audience. Our goal was for even those well-versed in classical music to find the program convincing. So we had some really intense discussions about the music choices. In a way, this whole concept brought back memories of when we were still competing—as if we were back in our days as performers and competitors.

 

 How were these five pieces of music chosen?

Kiyozuka: At first, we listed out a lot of pieces.

Hanyu: How many were there? Must have been more than a dozen, right?

Kiyozuka: Since we weren’t sure which piece would ultimately be the most fitting, we included some slower, more gentle ones as well. For example, Rachmaninoff’s Prelude. As for Brahms, we eventually used 118-3 (Six Pieces for Piano, Op. 118: No. 3 in G minor, Ballade: Allegro energico), but the preceding piece—118-2 (No. 2 in A major, Intermezzo)—which is very famous and beautiful, was also on the list. When I saw the selections Yuzu-chan ended up making, I instantly understood: “Ah, so this is the direction we’re going in.”

 

 How did you feel when you saw the pieces Hanyu selected?

Kiyozuka: Many of the pieces Yuzu-chan chose this time were in C minor, which made me think of fate and destiny. C minor is a key often used by composers to express turning points in life, like Beethoven’s Fate Symphony, and it usually conveys a heavier, more serious tone. It matched our theme perfectly, and I was honestly amazed at Yuzu-chan’s keen sensitivity in choosing that key.

Hanyu: To be honest, I had no technical knowledge of that. I chose the pieces purely based on feeling. The imagery in my mind and the ideas I wanted to express naturally led me to these works. And as it turns out, there’s even a narration that says,, “Play the sound of your fate,” so in the end, the selections really were quite fitting.

Kiyozuka: The five pieces we chose span over a century, from Bach to Brahms. We agonized over how to order them, like, should it be chronological, or something else? After much thought, we decided to end with a Chopin piece, to mirror Ballade no. 1. I recommended Op. 25 No. 12 in C minor (Ocean), since it's the final piece in Chopin’s set of 24 Études. But in the end, Yuzu-chan chose Op. 10 No. 4 in C-sharp minor (Torrent) to close. When I finally saw the actual performance, I realized it was the best choice. If we had connected it with Op. 25 No. 12 (Ocean), it would have felt too heavy. And if that piece had ended the set, it would’ve felt too complete, making Ballade no. 1 seem unnecessary. Yuzu-chan seemed to see right through that, and in that moment, his sensibility amazed me once again.

Hanyu: We thought about it together for a long time. I even considered whether it might be better to choose earlier-period pieces to better connect with Chopin, or maybe to not include Chopin at all. But in the end, these five pieces felt like the most perfect match in my heart, so I went with them. I was really worried about switching the order of the fourth and fifth pieces, wondering if that might feel awkward to classical music professionals, or if it might come across as disrespectful. I asked Kiyo-chan repeatedly if it would be okay, and when he assured me it was fine, I fully trusted him and made the final decision. That’s how this chapter, including Ballade no. 1, came together.

 

Experiencing Each Other’s Technical Extremes

 

— What adjustments did you make when performing the five piano pieces in Echoes, Kiyozuka-san?

Kiyozuka: After hearing the overall concept and flow of Echoes, I felt it truly reflected the poetic, literary, and philosophical qualities that Yuzu-chan often shows when he speaks. It was wonderful. But for this particular section, rather than aiming to move people with emotion, it felt more like a restrained, almost inorganic expression, as if it were showcasing Yuzu-chan’s technical precision, like a cog in the machinery of figure skating itself. So instead of adding indulgent, personal touches, I decided to present the classical pieces in their pure, orthodox form. That’s exactly what piano competitions are about: faithfully interpreting the composer’s intent, not overemphasizing personal flair. So I thought, “Wow, this is basically a piano competition!” (laughs) I paid special attention to playing in a very academic and classical style. Thinking back, this may have been the first time we’ve really tackled something in this style together.

Hanyu: Normally, it’s good to play with emotion. But for this Piano Collection, I asked Kiyo-chan to set aside some of the expressive instincts he had honed as a professional. I knew that “letting go” like that was a tough ask in itself. When you’re playing, it’s natural to want to pour your emotions into it, and I have that urge too. In the end, Kiyo-chan recorded about three different versions of each piece and sent them to me. The versions I chose were the ones with the least emotional interpretation.

Kiyozuka: Yuzu-chan definitely picked the versions that were closer to the orthodox style.

 

— What did you think when you saw Echoes of Life?

Kiyozuka: To be blunt, I'm just in awe. Even though I had played the music and had a general idea of what the performance might be like, when I actually saw it... what was happening in front of my eyes felt almost unreal. I mean, he just stayed on the ice the whole time and never left it! Right?

Hanyu: (bursts out laughing)

Kiyozuka: Even though I had a general idea of what was coming, seeing the sheer force and raw authenticity he brought to the performance still felt unbelievable. Of course, I’m sure the audience was deeply moved too, but I had been listening and watching from the earliest planning stages. And yet, what unfolded before me instantly brought back memories of Yuzu-chan at a certain moment, and I suddenly realized, “So this is what you’ve been trying to do all along…” That realization brought me to the verge of tears. I’m sure Yuzu-chan knew he was about to face an enormous challenge, but when he spoke to me, he never showed it. He spoke with courage, calmly and sincerely. Honestly, I think he must have been really scared too.

Hanyu: I just kept thinking, as long as I have Shinya Kiyozuka’s piano with me, I’ll be okay. Really.

Kiyozuka: I'm really happy to hear that, of course. But truthfully, I was overwhelmed with all the emotions and intentions Yuzu-chan had poured into it. So many feelings welled up in me. And honestly, I was completely blown away by him. That he had this side to him, the ability to conceive and perform such a philosophically rich story, hit me like a revelation. Or maybe it was more like I was suddenly reminded, "Ah, that’s right, he is someone with such immense technical power." He threw that truth right in front of me, clearly and strongly.

Hanyu: It’s exactly what I told Kiyo-chan when I asked him to play! I know Kiyo-chan’s pieces have been used in TV dramas, collaborations with pop music, and many other places, but here what I wanted was to show everyone, “This is Shinya Kiyozuka, and this is how incredibly he plays." I think both I and the audience feel that “Shinya Kiyozuka is really good at playing classical music—”

Kiyozuka: Yuzu-chan told me before that he absolutely had to show how he’s grown since transitioning from athlete to professional. And I was thinking, “Wow, Yuzuru Hanyu really never lets up.” I admired that and told him so. Then he goes, “So Kiyo-chan, you have to do the same too~” And I thought, “Oh no, here we go again!” (laughs)

Hanyu: I said, “Yuzuru Hanyu will go all out in training and execute every technique with full intensity, so I hope Kiyozuka will also perform with the same strong energy. I'm counting on you.” Even though it was a really busy time for him with his own concert tour, he still practiced so hard.

Kiyozuka: Oh man, you’re not kidding. Even though I was super busy, I practiced every night until the early hours of the morning. But looking back, I’m genuinely grateful. Having a friend like Yuzuru Hanyu by my side, someone who never lets me slack off, that means the world to me. During that time, I practiced intensely and, as a result, I regained a lot of my technique. My coordination between mind and fingers improved so much.

 

 

Memories of Meeting, and Where We Are Now

 

— You first collaborated on “Haru yo, Koi” at Fantasy on Ice in June 2018, correct?

Hanyu: You played Haru yo, Koi really fast back then! I remember thinking, “Wait a second, Kiyozuka-san, this piece is supposed to be 2 minutes and 50 seconds, why did it end in 2 minutes and 30? That’s way too fast, slow down!” But then for the final show, you stretched it by about 30 seconds. (laughs)

Kiyozuka: I just wanted to savor the piece a little more toward the end! (laughs)

Hanyu: I was thinking, “For the last spin, how many turns should I make?!” (laughs)

Kiyozuka: One thing that really surprised me when we were working on Haru yo, Koi was the music arrangement process. I had assumed that I’d be the one making about 90% of the decisions regarding how the music would be cut and pieced together, but I was completely wrong. He said to me, “I want the sound here to feel like you just turned around and discovered a whole new world.” I was like, “Wait... am I talking to a musician or a producer right now?” That really stunned me at first. And what’s more, his ideas were incredibly precise.

Hanyu: Even though Haru yo, Koi wasn’t a piece composed entirely from scratch for me, it was the first time a song had been newly arranged specifically for me. So I had a particularly strong attachment to it, and all sorts of ideas like “I want it to be like this here” or “I want that part to be like that” just came pouring out. It was through this kind of back-and-forth exchange that the two of us gradually became close…

Kiyozuka: Exactly. The friendship between me and Yuzu-chan was built through our collaboration and shared sense of artistry.  We’re not the kind of friends who have to tiptoe around each other or say polite things just for the sake of it. I really like that about our relationship.

 

The Short Program "Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso" (2021–2022 Season)

 

— The arrangement and performance of “Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso” for the 2021–2022 short program were also done by Kiyozuka-san, correct?

Hanyu: From the very beginning, I had my heart set on expressing Rondo through piano. At that point, I had already mentally prepared myself that it was going to be my final piece, my last program as a competitive skater. So I only wanted Kiyozuka to play it.

Kiyozuka: That makes me so happy... At that time, Yuzu-chan had a kind of seriousness and self-discipline that was very different from now. It was a state that appeared gentle and calm on the outside, but inside, his passion was fiercely burning.

Hanyu: It was like I was in a rush to die.

Kiyozuka: Yeah, I think Yuzu-chan really was in that mental state back then… That intense discipline he had, just being near him made me feel like I could be swept up in it too. It gave me this feeling of awe, like I was in the presence of something sacred. I can still feel that sense even now. I wanted to reflect that feeling in Rondo. He told me from the start that it was probably going to be his last short program of his competitive career. Even though the piece originally had some brighter parts, I ended up removing all of them.

Hanyu: You really did remove them all.

Kiyozuka: Lately, I feel that since turning professional, Yuzu-chan has begun taking on roles as a creator and director, expressing his entire worldview through his own words. This version of Yuzu-chan brings not only me, but also the audience and fans, closer to his heart.

Hanyu: Yeah, I think it’s only recently. Through RE_PRAY, I started to truly feel how precious it is to be supported and the warmth of being in a live setting, and I think my heart has gradually opened up. Because all this time, I’ve been fighting and always felt I couldn’t rely on that kind of warmth. I always thought that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to create good work. But now, including this side of myself, I’ve become able to rely on Kiyo-chan more.

Kiyozuka: Yuzu-chan shares his ideas with me and sometimes he’ll even sends videos of his practice sessions, saying, “It’s not finished yet, but this is kind of the feeling I’m going for.” I just want to take this chance to brag to all the fans a little~

Hanyu: (big laugh)

Kiyozuka: I’m the only one who’s seen those videos, hehe! You know… I’ve been watching him work so hard all this time, and although it sounds a bit strange to say, when I go to watch the performances and see the audience cheering and crying around me, I think, “You have no idea how hard this guy had to work to get here.” His effort, his determination, and how gentle and considerate he is to the staff even before stepping onto the battlefield — that figure looks truly noble. It’s a feeling more sacred than loneliness; it’s nobility. Like a lone swan quietly floating on a still lake. It looks so sacred, yet you can’t help but worry if it’s cold or lonely. As someone who has witnessed his growth, I wonder how much fear and resolve he carried standing there… So when I see the audience beside me crying and cheering for him, my feelings are all mixed up inside.

Hanyu: You probably see it that way because I’ve been sending you videos of myself training alone, even late at night. But I do feel that I’m changing bit by bit. The biggest change is that I’m starting to learn how to rely on the people around me. I’m realizing more and more that I can’t create truly great things on my own. It’s precisely because I call myself a professional figure skater that I’ve come to understand more than ever that without the help of other professionals, I can’t create something truly professional. So, I’ll be bothering you again in the future, please take care of me!

Kiyozuka: Right after this interview, I’ll go straight to practice! (laughs)

Indeed, in recent years, from the expression he has at the end of his performances and what he says to his fans, I feel that he has become a warmer Yuzu-chan, which gives me a sense of comfort. Also, watching his performance this time, I noticed his hand movements have become especially elegant. Although he has always paid great attention to his hands, now his hands move in harmony with the rest of his body. He fully controls every detail of his body for expression and has perfect command over his body in his performance. People used to say he was someone who could “perfectly synchronize with music.” But thinking about it now, being in sync with music is still moving to “match” the music. Now, though, it doesn’t feel like he’s matching anything. Rather, the grace just flows naturally from within him. It’s no longer “choreography” or “musicality," but it’s gradually becoming Yuzuru Hanyu’s own form of expression. That touches me deeply. Lately, I’ve been moved by him more than ever before…

Hanyu: Thank you. So, how would you rate my “musical interpretation” this time?

Kiyozuka: 25,000 points.

Hanyu: That’s too much! The full score is only 10! (laughs)

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

2025.06

 

Source: THE BOOK "Echoes of Life" (Pre-order period: 2025/02/09 - 2025/04/07, Shipment from late May to early June)

https://weibo.com/ttarticle/p/show?id=2309405175382243934594

 

Video Director: Jun Tamukai Inerview

Spoiler

Interviewer: You were involved in the production of many visual sequences in Echoes. How did the process unfold step by step?

 

What we spent a considerable amount of time on at the very beginning, I believe, was interpreting the original work. Although the original built a very solid worldview, there still seemed to be quite a bit of room for interpretation when it came to turning it into visuals. So we began by thinking about how to transform that material into imagery. At that point, even though the length of the video had already been decided, it hadn’t yet been determined which lines should be kept and which could be omitted. So our first task was to look at the entire story from above and decide: within the limited runtime, which lines we wanted to convey, which lines we could leave out, what content should be visualized, and what didn’t need to be. We basically skipped the step of drawing a storyboard and instead created a simple CG animation as a kind of visual preview. This preview animation showed rough character movements, how the camera would move, and how Hanyu would act. We used that as the foundation for our filming.

 

Interviewer: The desolate world, the ROOM, and the guide-like figure, how did those ideas come about?

 

Looking at the overall narrative, there had once been a tragic war, and the world has become what it is now. In order to leave a strong impression of that setting on the audience, world-building became especially important. The desolate world was based on the imagery that came to mind while reading the original. As for the guide, they’re a kind of godlike being—omniscient, a symbol of knowledge, an existence far beyond human. So in shooting, we wanted to create a sense that this figure lacked human warmth or emotion. The room where this almost divine being resides, in my imagination, was filled with books—things formed through the accumulation of knowledge. To create an atmosphere completely different from the ordinary world, we designed the ROOM with no walls, so that the space would extend infinitely.

 

Interviewer: In the second half of the performance, the desolate world brightens, and Nova’s figure appears with a vertical mirror-image switch.

 

What Hanyu probably wanted to express was something like a quantum concept—a state where something can be both this and that, where different worlds can exist simultaneously. And I think what he wanted to say about all of those worlds wasn’t “this one is better” or “I don’t like that one,” but rather a wish to accept all those possibilities. So we expressed that feeling of embracing all worlds through the split mirrors, ever-changing types of flowers, and the constantly shifting backgrounds in the church.

 

Interviewer: How was the mirror switch of NOVA shot and turned into visuals?

 

There is a 3D scanning and filming technology called “volumetric capture.” Ordinary 3D scanning typically can only capture a still pose, essentially a single frame, but volumetric capture can scan Hanyu’s movements over several dozen seconds of performance in 3D. This turns Hanyu into a 3D object that exists as data. After that, the camera angles can be adjusted freely. While exploring different filming methods, I realized that by using volumetric capture and creating an inverted version of the object, we could achieve the mirror effect. In reality, it's impossible to place a camera below the ground, but I realized that if we take that approach, there is nothing between the upper and lower worlds, which means the camera can pass through and connect the two seamlessly. What we ended up with was a shot where the camera goes through the ground into the mirrored world and then begins to rotate, blurring the line between the real image and its reflection. Of course, I had imagined this sequence in my head beforehand, but the actual result turned out even more interesting than I expected.

 

Interviewer: Which scene was particularly difficult to shoot?

 

The giant tower scene. Filming a scene of someone continuously climbing an endlessly winding staircase was really difficult. To shoot something like that, the art team would have had to build an extremely long staircase, but that wasn’t realistic, and the studio ceiling wasn’t high enough either. So we racked our brains and ended up finding, through an online search, a piece of exercise equipment that resembled a small rotating elevator, something that lets you keep going up stairs. We thought it might work. However, the equipment had handrails on both sides and steps with treads, so we dismantled all of that and kept only the internal mechanism for filming.

 

Interviewer: Were there any points you paid special attention to when turning the original work into visuals?

 

The original already leaves room for interpretation. While I don’t think I fully understood what Hanyu was trying to express when he created it, it was precisely that openness that allowed me to explore a variety of visual expression techniques. I didn’t aim to portray things exactly as Hanyu intended, nor did I feel it was necessary for the audience to understand everything completely. Rather, I thought the visuals should also leave some room for interpretation. Hanyu has his own meanings, and I have my own interpretations. I hope the audience can approach it from different angles too, so I deliberately wanted to preserve some blank space.

 

Interviewer: How did you feel after watching the actual performance?

 

I spent several months creating those visuals, and I was really nervous, worrying about whether the audience would accept them. But seeing everyone so focused as they watched made me feel that the visuals did their job in helping the audience grasp the worldview. Oh, and by the way, up until the end, everyone was watching quietly and attentively, but as soon as the encore began, people suddenly started cheering excitedly. That really surprised me (laughs).

 

Interviewer: After working with Hanyu for several months, what kind of person do you think he is?

Of course, he’s an athlete, but I feel like he’s also a true master of entertainment. From his original work, I can sense how much he’s been influenced by various kinds of media and how he has brought together so many different elements. He’s very interested in visual expression too and has been trying different things. We even had discussions about that. One moment he’d be discussing visuals with me, and the next he’d turn to MIKIKO-sensei to talk about choreography. He seems deeply interested in all the elements that make up entertainment, or rather, he has a high level of understanding of them. Though he’s gone through a long period as an athlete, and of course, he still is one, my impression is that he’s an outstanding performer.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

2025.06

 

Source: THE BOOK "Echoes of Life" (Pre-order period: 2025/02/09 - 2025/04/07, Shipment from late May to early June)

https://weibo.com/6473801248/Pv8HZsLbD

 

Commentary on Piano Collection

 

Spoiler

The battle against hatred has been won. However, Nova falls into confusion, thinking:

"The power of my 'voice' is the power of regeneration... It was never meant to be used for fighting or destruction..."

 

It is this conflicted state of mind that Nova expresses through the Piano Collection.

 

The structure of the Piano Collection begins with handwritten words such as "Awake" and "Setting off on a new path", followed by a short piano piece of approximately one minute.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu explains:

"Words like 'Awake' are my way of embedding into Nova the philosophy I want him to carry—written down alphabetically. For example, after Nova takes in the words 'Awake – Setting off on a new path', the music that emerges from that moment is the first piece by Brahms. Those words are the language of the ‘Room’. The core image here is that countless great figures and diverse characters have freely written and discarded thoughts over and over again, scattering words throughout every corner of the Room. The sheet music, too, feels like freshly written words that instantly turn into music—so the handwriting is intentionally messy and spontaneous in appearance."

 

The sheet music projected onto the ice flows along with the music itself. To make Hanyu appear as though he were a flowing musical note weaving through the score, the visual team created ice projections based on recordings of his performances. For example, when Nova skates diagonally across the rink, the score also spreads out diagonally.

 

Before each of the five pieces in the Piano Collection, a short sequence of notes or a chord is played. Since Nova remains continuously on the ice, he has no way of knowing how much time is left before the next piece begins, so this design was introduced as a timing cue. At first, Hanyu composed the note sequences himself, based on the key and tonality of each piece. But he soon thought, “This is something better left to a professional,” and immediately reached out to Shinya Kiyozuka.

 

Kiyozuka said:

“Thanks to Yuzu-chan composing the music in his own way, I immediately understood what he wanted. If it’s Chopin, then it has to stay in Chopin’s style. If it’s Bach from the Baroque period, then it has to sound like Bach. In other words, the music had to preserve the integrity of the world he was creating. I told him I’d do my best to record it with the highest sound quality possible within our setup, and then I asked, ‘When do you need it?’ He said, ‘Tonight. I have a full run-through rehearsal tonight, so I need it by then!’ I was shocked that he was still working on things like this right before his first full rehearsal. Even though Yuzu isn’t a musician by profession, he finally got involved in the music! I was truly impressed by his outstanding production skills and his ability to direct everything so precisely.”

 

In the Piano Collection, Nova also performs single and double jumps.

 

“For example, even a single Axel can leave a completely different impression depending on whether it’s a standard Axel, a delayed rotation, or a jump with an arm raised. In this part, I wanted to show people that even a single jump can be so expressive. As a professional skater, I now have the ability to convey that kind of richness in expression.”

 

Additionally, across the six jumps in Piano, Nova performs everything from a single to a quadruple jump—each with a different number of rotations.

 

“As for the spins, I didn’t do them to get any level or grade. I simply changed feet. But I wanted to show that even a basic Y-position spin can be beautiful in its own right, and that even a simple sit spin can be accompanied by such expressive arm movements. That’s why I intentionally chose basic positions to make that point clear.”

 

The flowing musical scores and notes projected on the large screen during this scene are also beautiful, but at times, the scrolling screen descends to just three meters above the ice.

 

“Three meters, that’s about the height I can reach when I do a jump with my arm raised. Especially during the triple Axel in the third piece, and the triple loop in the second, I had to jump toward a screen that had dropped particularly low. My body instinctively reacted defensively. I didn’t expect it to be so difficult, but I practiced a lot to get used to it.”

 

 

Source: https://weibo.com/6473801248/PvtaouThM

 

Commentary on Ballade no. 1

 

Spoiler

From the end of the Piano Collection to the beginning of Ballade no. 1, exactly three minutes pass. The concept of the “timeline” mentioned by the Guide is expressed on stage by ELEVENPLAY. This part of the performance is designed to create an atmosphere that cannot be conveyed by visuals alone and to show the inner changes of Nova from the Guide’s perspective.

 

“There are no fixed movements in those three minutes. What happens depends entirely on the situation at the time. So, in my mind, the image is that everything is happening in the palm of a god called the ice rink. Although there is a line saying, ‘But I still want to believe in fate,’ even if fate seems predetermined, as if played with by a god’s palm, I want to decide it for myself. That’s why the following piece, Ballade no. 1, must be the PyeongChang version. Not the rearranged version made later to fit rule changes, but definitely the high-difficulty version from the PyeongChang period, including the 3A and 4T-3T jumps in the latter half.”

 

For Nova, those three minutes serve as preparation time for Ballade no. 1. However, unlike the six-minute warm-up under bright white lights during competitions, the lighting here, though intentionally set this way by Hanyu, is very dim, making it nearly impossible to see the boundaries of the rink. On top of that, there are only three minutes, and fatigue from earlier segments has already built up. The size of the rink also varies depending on the venue, which presents another challenge.

 

Despite this, Hanyu, portraying Nova, even attempted the 4T-3S combination here. Since the season of “Ten to Chi to,” Hanyu has held the belief that “as long as I can land the 4T-3S, the solo 4S jump is basically no problem.” Originally, the jump was supposed to be practiced in the same spot where the 4S would be performed during the actual program. However, thinking, “If the 4S during the real performance were to get caught in the groove left by the 4T during practice, that’d be a disaster,” he decided to attempt the jump from the completely opposite side instead.

 

Although the image of Ballade no. 1 from the PyeongChang Olympics still lingers in Hanyu's body, he said: “This time, I want to start by letting go of that image. Because even skating Ballade on a standard-sized rink has become difficult. That’s because, without realizing it, I’ve become better at skating and my glide has improved (laughs). If I skate it the same way as before, I’ll definitely crash into the wall during the jumps. So I tried various things like slowing down, changing my entry paths, and shifting my position away from the center, but still couldn’t make it work. The rink in Chiba has a shorter long side now, and the rink proportions have changed, so no matter what I tried, it didn’t work out. In the end, I decided to overhaul everything. Except for the 3A, I changed all the entry paths, and even some of the choreography.”

 

After finishing Ballade, Nova remained on the ice and began drawing lines. “In RE_PRAY, I thought the section in MEGALOVANIA where there was only the sound of skating without any music was really cool, so this time I thought maybe I could draw lines, and from there, develop it into Goliath. In fact, when we created the video version of Goliath, it was choreographed to follow a fixed path. But in the end, I decided not to branch into Goliath from here, and instead thought it might be nice to turn it into a symbol. That’s how that design came about.”

 

Under Nova’s feet, ice shavings fluttered as he drew lines in the dim light, creating a beautiful scene. However, drawing lines in such low lighting was extremely difficult because he could barely see. “Each time, I would look for a mark on the set in the venue and mentally use it as a reference for where I needed to move from and to. I always did it with great care.”

 

 

Source: https://weibo.com/6473801248/PvsJoccV2

 

Commentary on Mass Destruction

 

Spoiler

The scene where a diary is placed on a park bench is the most expanded part compared to the original work. Video producer Jun Tamukai said:
“In the original, Nova simply feels, after reading the diary, ‘Ah, so there once was such a warm world.’ But in the video, this is expanded to Nova personally experiencing a positive and warm world. Up until now, Nova has only encountered inorganic things like dead trees, sand, and buildings. The diary written by humans contains a kind of warmth of humanity that Nova has not yet experienced. To represent this diary, full of the breath of life, as a gateway to a positive atmosphere, I created imagery that resembles butterflies fluttering about.”

 

Immersed in the park and diary world, Nova gradually begins to hear the lingering voices of hatred in this world. Nova fights back using the battle track “Mass Destruction” as a weapon. At this point, Nova doesn’t yet realize that they themselves are a “mass destruction weapon,” making this music choice highly symbolic. The gesture of pointing a handgun to one’s own head in the performance comes from the game Persona 3—the origin of the song “Mass Destruction”—where players summon their Persona by placing a gun-shaped summoner to their head and pulling the trigger.

 

To present a hardcore hiphop style, the hiphop parts were choreographed by Emmy from ELEVENPLAY, while the rest was choreographed by Yuzuru himself and overseen overall by MIKIKO, resulting in “Mass Destruction.” After RE_PRAY, Yuzuru began receiving foundational dance training from MIKIKO and continued steady basic practice during the off-season. However, he said that when he tried to perform hiphop moves on the ice, he realized it was totally different from performing on a floor.

 

"I thought about how to perform moves on the ice surface that can normally be done on a non-slippery floor. But in figure skating, to avoid slipping, you basically have to shift your weight onto your toes. However, once your weight is on your toes, if your balance shifts even slightly, the moves can start to look a bit light and unstable. I wanted to hold steady poses, but I often lost my balance and fell because my footing wasn’t stable. It was a constant series of challenges one after another. So I tried various approaches, like in some parts it’s easier to stay balanced by keep skating, while in other parts you need to stop completely to execute the move. And in parts where you have to stop completely, it’s not just about using your toes; in some spots you have to rely entirely on strength to hold steady, especially when your heels are about to slip. ‘Mass Destruction’ is really, really hard to skate!"

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

2025.06.09

 

Source: https://bunshun.jp/bungeishunju/articles/h10052

 

Yuzuru Hanyu Discovers the "262 Rule"

 

We now live in an age where both the information we seek and the information we don’t seek are easily visible. With the rapid spread of the internet and the rise of social media enabling anyone to share content, we’ve also seen an overflow of fake news and the spread of misinformation during disasters. Because it has become so easy to “connect,” I think the world has also become a place where it’s harder to know what to trust.

 

Spoiler

When we feel like “we don’t want to connect,” the root of the problem may not be the act of connecting itself, but rather the fact that we are too connected. Perhaps more and more people are feeling anxious, overwhelmed by information and judgment, and losing sight of themselves. It’s not a distant issue for me either.

 

It’s been three full years this summer since I became a professional skater. I truly feel that I’m taking on challenges in a world completely different from before. The 18 years I spent as a competitive athlete were, in a sense, a time when I rejoiced or despaired over my scores. The “quality” of a performance was determined by numerical scores that reflected technical elements like jumps and spins. Now, on the stage where I stand, the judgment of what’s good or bad is left entirely to the values of the audience. This kind of “freedom,” where I’m not bound by rules or points, fuels my creative drive even more, but it also brings fear. The nature of evaluation has shifted from scores to the words and feelings of those who watch. And so I find myself more and more often asking: “Am I truly delivering something good?” “Am I meeting people’s expectations?”

 

One of the principles I arrived at through confronting my own anxiety is something called the “262 Rule.” Simply put, it means that if you think of the people around you as a group of ten, then 20% of them can understand and trust you, 60% of them have a moderate good impression of you, and the remaining 20% are people with whom mutual understanding is simply not possible. It’s a rule I hold dear in my heart.
 
In this way, my first task is to maintain the trust of 20% of my confidants and present high-quality performances to 60% of the audience. Of course, if I’m being honest, I also want to reach the remaining 20%. But even if I can't do it, it doesn't matter. As long as I insist on creating works that can impress 80% of the people, I can always maintain my inner determination and confidence.
 

In the same way, when it comes to public opinion or slander on social media, if you’ve done the work of truly “knowing yourself” and have a clear sense of what you want to do, those things shouldn’t bother you too much. In this world where waves come and go in an instant, there’s no need to be swayed or shaken by them. If I have time to be shaken, I’d rather use that time to keep working on performances that move the hearts of those who watch. I’ve made that resolve to myself.
 
I believe that the way to "know oneself" is often not within one's daily life circle. A person who thinks or struggles behind closed doors may never reach the true "self". For me, I find it through music, through diving deep into fictional worlds, or through the beauty of natural scenery. Just as we can only see our own reflection in a mirror, I believe we can only truly know our essence when it is reflected back to us through the mirror of another person.

 

Once I’ve connected with the world, come to know myself, and grasp what I want to express, I deliberately cut off those connections and immerse myself when I begin creating choreography or building a story. That said, as a performer, if the message doesn’t get across, it is meaningless. So, I keep having ongoing discussions with my team to ensure that what we create is something that can be communicated.
 
There is no such thing as a special person.
 
If many people nowadays feel “I don’t want to connect,” I think part of the reason is that others appear too dazzling through the media.


But as someone who’s often featured in the media, I believe there really is no such thing as a “special person.” I am just a completely ordinary individual. I like games, and there are days when I spend all my time watching gameplay videos. Yet what gets shown is always the highlights of my life.
 

My starting point as a performer is the Great East Japan Earthquake. Visiting the disaster areas and meeting those affected taught me about the weight of each individual life behind the thousands or tens of thousands reported in the news. Every person has a story, and every life is equally precious. Even if they’re not reported, everyone has their own version of “winning consecutive Olympic titles” or “the quadruple Axel” in their lives.


Recently, I feel that the existence of "Yuzuru Hanyu" is a medium reflecting the thoughts of the people who support him. I don’t think people can live without connecting to others.  If that’s the case, rather than rejecting connection, I want to cherish the self I’ve come to see through those connections. Ultimately, I believe this also leads to not becoming overly connected.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
×
×
  • Create New...