[2025.09.20] Pirouette World Edition No. 3

[yuzurujenn]

Info: http://pirouette-online.de/PWE-No-03.html 

 

Contents:

Cover Story: Yuzuru Hanyu
People: Sara Conti/ Niccolo Macii
Photographer's Pick: Robin Ritoss
Photographer's Pick: Yanzheng Mao
People: Alysa Liu
Photographer's Pick: Jurij Kodrun
Special: Maxime Rodriguez
Story: Niina Petrökina
People: Adam Siao Him Fa
Photographer's Pick: Hella Höppner
Story: Madison Chock/Evan Bates
Photographer's Pick: Nikolai Majorov

 

 

Cover photo: Yuzuru Hanyu - Through my eyes

 

Yuzuru Hanyu is, undoubtedly, one of the most significant athletes of our time, having opened up entirely new dimensions in figure skating. For a whole generation, he dominated competitive skating; set new standards with his records, and captivated both audiences and judges with his unique combination of elegance and technical precision. To this day, he remains a role model for aspiring athletes who follow in his footsteps with relentless ambition. Many international journalists refer to him as a once-in-a-century talent - a sentiment with which I can only agree. 

[yuzurujenn]

*Magazine is in English. Keeping it here for archive purposes only*

 

Source:  Pirouette World Edition No. 3, pg 6-15

 

Yuzuru Hanyu: Through my eyes

 

Yuzuru Hanyu is, undoubtedly, one of the most significant athletes of our time, having opened up entirely new dimensions in figure skating. For a whole generation, he dominated competitive skating; set new standards with his records; and captivated both audiences and judges with his unique combination of elegance and technical precision. To this day, he remains a role model for aspiring athletes who follow in his footsteps with relentless ambition. Many international journalists refer to him as a once-in-a-century talent - a sentiment with which I can only agree.

 

Spoiler

But what is it that makes Yuzuru Hanyu a once- in-a-century talent? Why do his programs touch so many people on such a profound level? Of course, his technical mastery, achievements, and records contribute to making him an extraordinary athlete. But I am convinced that there is something more behind his programs - something invisible to the naked eye yet capable of reaching deep into the hearts of his audience.

I began to wonder what the emotional world of Yuzuru Hanyu looks like and how it has evolved over the course of his career. I wanted to see the world through his eyes and bring it closer to our readers in a tangible way. I was all the more delighted at the opportunity to interview him about this in his hometown of Sendai. Known as the greenest city in Japan, Sendai was founded by the warlord Masamune Date during a time of military turmoil. Inspired by the Chinese poem Senyukan, which promised eternal peace and harmony, the city was meant to flourish in all its splendor along the Hirosegawa River. But Sendai is not only distinguished by its breathtaking nature and harmonious atmosphere - it is also the birthplace of Japanese figure skating. At the Goshikinuma Pond, towards the end of the 19th century, the first Japanese students are said to have learned how to ice skate - in the very city that would one day produce Japan's greatest figure skater, Yuzuru Hanyu, who would go on to bring Olympic gold to his homeland.

 

"I think that's why my philosophy in life is to make the people around me happy."

 

At the age of four, young Hanyu stepped onto the ice for the first time, still unaware of the extraordinary gift he had been born with. I wanted to know what emotions he associates with his childhood on the ice.

"I didn't always approach figure skating with enjoyment as I started the sport simply because I wanted to follow in my older sister's footsteps. At that time, I loved anime and manga, and I enjoyed making up stories or immersing myself in fantasy worlds while skating. The stories I imagined had nothing to do with figure skating - I would become, for example, a fire mage who could conjure flames with his hands and roast meat."

Magic on the ice - what was once a childhood fantasy would eventually become reality throughout Hanyu's career. In the second grade of elementary school, the two-time Olympic champion began intensive training under Shōichirō Tsuzuki, who immediately recognized the young skater's extraordinary talent. Tsuzuki paved a path for Hanyu; one that he would follow for more than a decade - the path of a competitor. The training sessions were strict and physically demanding, but they gave shape and clarity to Hanyu's dreams and aspirations.

 

"When I started taking figure skating seriously, my coach was very strict. To be honest, I didn't like training. I was afraid every time. I enjoyed competitions because everyone was watching me, but during training, I kept thinking, 'I don't actually want to do this.' Everything changed when I competed in the National Championships for the first time in fourth grade - and won. From that moment on, I saw myself at the Olympics and World Championships. That's when I told myself: 'I have to give my best in training! I have to become a top skater, even better, much, much better.' That was the moment when a new ambition ignited within me."

From then on, Hanyu followed his path, embarking on a journey through the realm of figure skating with a wide array of programs. He gave shape to different soundscapes, painting the white ice with the shades of his emotions. It was as if one were flipping through a picture book in which the protagonist dives into artistic dimensions, interacts with their nuances and characters, grows from them, and emerges stronger. Hanyu didn't just perform the stories in his programs - he brought them to life.

His interpretations made iconic works such as the tragic love story Romeo and Juliet (first performed in the 2011/12 season) and The Phantom of the Opera (2014/15) deeply tangible for the audience. This unique fusion of artistic expression and technical brilliance not only led him to numerous victories during his junior years but also etched his performances indelibly into the memories of spectators.

 

That made me wonder: what does one feel after finishing a program and receiving such overwhelming support? Is it pride? Relief? I wanted to hear it from Hanyu himself.

"It made me very happy to bring joy to everyone. During that time, I trained incredibly hard, investing countless hours and immense energy into my practice sessions. So, of course, I felt relieved and glad that all the hard work had paid off. But what mattered most to me was that my coach and my parents were happy. Those moments gave me such a deep sense of fulfillment that I became even more immersed in the sport. I think that's why my philosophy in life is to make the people around me happy."

 

"But no matter how dark the night may be, it is never completely black. It's as if you can see through the layers [of the sky] and catch a glimpse of blue."

But happiness is fleeting - a spark that can vanish in the blink of an eye. The Great Tohoku Earthquake tragically demonstrated this, shattering the happiness of many and leaving an indelible scar on the collective memory of the Japanese people. The devastation was compounded by the massive tsunami that followed, sweeping across vast stretches of northeastern Japan. Where vibrant life once thrived, only destruction remained. For those affected, it must have felt as if the familiar landscapes of their lives had crumbled into ruins, mere shadows of their former selves.

"It felt as if the world around me had been cast in black and white. But no matter how dark the night may be, it is never completely black. It's as if you can see through the layers [of the sky] and catch a glimpse of blue. I remember that back then, the sky was the only thing that still appeared colorful to me.

In this black and white world, everyone was desperately trying to get on with their lives. In such difficult times, I often wondered whether it was really right to continue figure skating. But so many people had supported me throughout my career, had watched me, and had found joy in it. That motivated me to give my best.

 

If I think of my figure skating in terms of color, I don't see it as vibrant like a rainbow. It's not filled with many shades but rather simple - green, blue, black, white, sometimes red. Since that event, I feel that I have developed the ability to express a deep blue through my skating."

In times of crisis, people always need a glimmer of light - a spark of hope that drives them to move forward. A story that restores color to a monochrome reality. That is precisely why it was so important for Hanyu to stay true to his path: he gave the victims renewed courage. Through his performances, he created moments for people to look forward to, offering them a brief escape from the hardships left in the tsunami's wake. At the same time, his relentless dedication inspired others to forge their own happiness.

In 2012, his path led him to Canada - a country with a foreign culture and an unfamiliar language. To many, such a decision might seem exceptionally courageous. Living abroad may be filled with exciting new experiences but, for many, it also presents seemingly insurmountable challenges - something I, too, have experienced firsthand. This made me wonder how Hanyu must have felt during his time in a foreign land.

"I really missed Japanese food. But aside from that, I didn't feel homesick. I went abroad for figure skating, to be able to give my best, so I didn't miss Japan too much. But when the coronavirus pandemic started and I returned to Japan, I felt very well looked after."

For a long time, Hanyu's repertoire was dominated primarily by Western music. But with SEIMEI, he became one of the first skaters to bring a touch of Japanese culture to the ice rinks, captivating audiences both at home and abroad. To this day, SEIMEI - the program with which Hanyu made history once again at the 2018 PyeongChang Olympic Games - remains one of the most beloved free skate compositions.

"I've always loved Japanese culture and had long wanted to skate to a Japanese program. But in the history of figure skating, no skater had ever won with a Japanese piece before. That worried me a lot. When I finally decided on SEIMEI - I think it was during the 2015/2016 season, a non-Olympic season - I was determined to choose a Japanese piece. The response from foreign judges and audiences was better than I had expected. From that point on, I gained more confidence in expressing my understanding of Japan through my programs."

"Japan's Golden Boy" - that was the title international media used for the young athlete in their headlines. With his second Olympic victory, he had achieved something no Japanese figure skater before him had ever accomplished. But the closer one comes to the light, the greater the shadow it casts. Hanyu, too, had to experience this firsthand. His dazzling successes were followed by forced breaks due to injuries - periods that must have been filled with uncertainty for him.

Between 2017 and 2019, Hanyu had to repeatedly withdraw from competitions due to his injured ankle - an injury he had sustained at the 2017 NHK Trophy. As he later revealed to me, this was the most difficult period of his entire career. Yet perhaps it is precisely because of these doubts that he continues to create programs of remarkable intensity to this day.

 

"The time during Origin was one of the hardest phases for me. I felt like I had lost my sense of why I was even figure skating in the first place."

For me, Origin left an unforgettable impression - not least because of its dark, almost mystical, atmosphere. When I first watched the program, I felt as though I could physically sense his struggles. Very few athletes have the courage to reveal themselves in a new, vulnerable way. It is precisely this quality that makes Origin such a mesmerizing interplay of light and shadow in my eyes.

"The time during Origin was one of the hardest phases for me. I felt like had lost my sense of why I was even figure skating in the first place. Of course, I don't decide on my costume designs alone, so I can't say that my world at the time was purely black and gold, like the costume. But I do have the awareness that I felt very lost during that period."

Despite all his doubts, Hanyu managed to win back the hearts of the audience upon his return. The entire world was eagerly anticipating the 2022 Winter Olympic Games in Beijing, with headlines like Yuzuru Hanyu vs. Nathan Chen dominating the sports columns. High expectations weighed on Japan's "Golden Boy", who not only aimed to make history with his unparalleled artistic sophistication but also with his new technical weapon - the quadruple Axel. His goal: the record of a third Olympic medal and to be the first athlete in history to land the quad Axel.

I still, vividly, remember the electrified atmosphere - even though I was only watching the competition on television. It didn't feel like an ordinary sports event; but rather a duel where everything was at stake. I had already envisioned the headlines even before the competitions had even begun: Yuzuru Hanyu wins with quadruple Axel or Yuzuru Hanyu shatters the limits of human ability. These were the kinds of headlines I expected to read from my colleagues. But it would unfold differently.

In the short program, Introduction + Rondo Capriccioso, Hanyu made a significant mistake on his first Salchow - a moment that nearly made me fall off my chair in shock. In the free program, he attempted the historic feat of landing a quadruple Axel, but it failed. In the end, he finished in the unfortunate fourth place - just shy of the podium. A few days later***, a news item shook the sports world: Hanyu announced his retirement. Fans and the media were in an uproar because he could have certainly celebrated more triumphs and enriched the competitive world with his successes. However, Hanyu made the decision to leave the path of the competitor to embark on a new, unknown journey. A journey that doesn't lead to the spotlight of the competition arenas but to the boundless freedom of artistic expression. The path of a professional figure skater.

 

"You can do anything, but this seemingly limitless freedom is actually often a big constraint."

 

I have often wondered what it must feel like for an athlete, who has followed a clear, predetermined path his whole life, to suddenly find himself in an immeasurable, unexplored world. In my imagination, it resembled walking through a dark tunnel; pushing open a massive stone door; and discovering a landscape that stretches endlessly. A world full of possibilities, rich in new experiences, but also in challenges. This image reminded me of an open-world role-playing game, where you can move freely in a vast world without knowing exactly what awaits you. When I shared this comparison with Hanyu, he replied:

"Yes, it does feel a bit like an open-world. You can do anything, but this seemingly limitless freedom is actually often a big constraint. When you're told that you can do everything, you become acutely aware of how much you actually can't do. That's why I'm putting in a lot of effort right now - precisely because there's so much I still can't do, and because the things I'm really good at are few - that I'm trying to discover more and more skills and continuously develop, so that one day I'll truly master many things."

Hanyu did not wander through the new world that opened up to him alone - he took his audience along on the journey. With Prologue, he wrote the first chapter of his ICE STORY - a collection of tales on ice, brought to life through both old and new programs. It's like strolling through an endless, evergreen garden, where the programs bloom like magnificent flowers in ever-new forms. In his stories, Hanyu offers insights into the many facets of his personality, traveling along the timeline of his own development and weaving past, present, and future into an intricate whole. Guided by the idea that each of his programs embodies a facet of his being, I wanted to know from him: Which one most accurately describes his current state?

 

"Maybe it's 'Danny Boy' at the moment. It's probably the program that most closely mirrors the emotional state of our world right now - this instability and fear. Even when the audience is touched or moved, the world remains unchanged. It just moves forward, unperturbed. In a way, it feels like a microcosm of this reality. You don't know what will happen next in the world. But 'Danny Boy' is a program in which I wear an entirely white costume. In which I can only hope and pray as I move forward. That feels very much like myself. It's not about achieving something specific or taking on a particular color - it's just about praying purely and sincerely. And I think that best reflects my current self."

For me, Hanyu was, and is, never just an athlete - he is an artist who paints pictures on the ice with his skates. His programs resemble portals to distant worlds, touching the hearts of his audience deeply. His shows are like picture books on ice, where illustrations come to life through music and dance. From the very first moment I saw Hanyu on the ice, I wondered: If he were a painter, how would he capture his figure skating on paper? What motif would symbolize him? The moon, which appears in many of his programs? Or an endless starry sky? The question I've been asking myself since our first encounter, I wanted to ask him at the end of my interview.

 

"I really do like the moon. But it would probably be a feather. After all, the character for 'feather' is also in my surname. A name feels like a symbol engraved into the soul. And with the tool of figure skating, I leave this symbol again and again on the large, icy canvas. So, I think I would paint the motif of a feather."

The motif of the feather - a symbol that carries profound meaning in many cultures. In Egyptian mythology, the feather represented Maat, the principle of divine order and justice. In our Western world, we associate it with the element of air - and thus with lightness and freedom. Furthermore, the feather, once the writing tool of great thinkers and poets, symbolizes education and science. It embodies inner strength, the power of words that, as the British writer Edward Bulwer-Lytton once wrote, "is mightier than the sword. The feather represents storytelling - the creation of new worlds. And that is exactly what makes Hanyu a once-in-a-century talent. Like a feather, he tells stories. Stories that he carves into the ice with his skates. Stories that are indelibly etched into the hearts of the audience.

Maria-Laura Mitsuoka Brandmann
Photos: Jumpei Tainaka

 

 

***Please note, this fact is inaccurate. Hanyu announced retirement on July 19, 2022, several months after the Olympics.