Ryuichi Sakamoto: Opus Review – A Quiet Farewell

Ryuichi Sakamoto paved new paths across genre and culture as a musical pioneer. Originally finding acclaim in the 1970s with Yellow Magic Orchestra, blending electronic sounds with pop dexterity, Sakamoto’s inquisitive spirit led him everywhere. He reinvented himself constantly, crafting Grammy-winning film scores with beauty matching any image. Through Yellow Magic Orchestra, solo outings and collaborations, his synth compositions left marks on ambient, techno and beyond.

Always expanding his vision, Sakamoto grew fascinated by natural field recordings and the music within everyday life. By 2022, failing health halted touring. Instead, he channeled remaining creativity into “Opus,” bidding farewell through resonant performances. With son Neo directing, Sakamoto played 20 personally selected works over weeks. Though unable to tour, this still let him share art’s meaning during life’s final chapter.

Shot in lustrous black and white, “Opus” displays Sakamoto’s musical journey via intimate solo piano. Stripped of auxiliary adornment, arrangements distill compositions to emotive essences. Through “Opus,” Sakamoto celebrates a life shaping sounds and stories. Though now in our memories, his notes evoke hope that transcends all limits, reminding us music’s timeless power to unite and uplift.

Stripped-Back Showcase For A Master’s Swansong

Directed by his son Neo Sora, Ryuichi Sakamoto: Opus presents the late composer’s last recorded performance with minimalist brilliance. Filmed in a Tokyo recording studio, this black-and-white documentary captures Sakamoto intimately over the course of a week, yet requires no supplementary information to deeply appreciate both artist and art.

Through compassionate camerawork and judicious editing, Sora allows his father’s playing to take center stage. Close-ups reveal the thoughtful care in Sakamoto’s fingertips, while occasional wider shots situate us in the scene. Smooth camera movements flow like the tidal motion of Sakamoto’s melodies, abandoning flourish for fluent portrayal. Engineering enhances the performance further – microphones immerse us in each note’s resonance while emphasizing the player’s vulnerable humanity.

Subtlety defines the film, from Sakamoto’s understated mastery to the gentle shifts in lighting. Dappled studio beams transition day to dusk, their gradual alteration mirroring the scored suite’s shifting moods. Spare production complements sparse musical arrangements, concentrating attention on emotional essence rather than technical fireworks. Though Sakamoto sprinkles in larger-scale works, intimacy overall lends these greatest intimacy.

By stripping back embellishment, Sora allows his subject’s final creative offering to resonate freely. Opus becomes a sublime homage to one artist’s journey, a voyage we trace not through talk but through the transformative power of watched and witnessed art. In witnessing Sakamoto’s swansong we find poignant portraiture and profound parting gift, a cinematic tribute that does the maestro’s musicianship, and life, justice in a breath.

Ryuichi Sakamoto’s Final Masterclass

Ryuichi Sakamoto handpicked twenty pieces that would become his swan song. The musical selections in Ryuichi Sakamoto: Opus showcased the full arc of the legendary composer’s illustrious career. With a tracklist spanning five decades, Sakamoto treated viewers to a retrospective masterclass on his journey from electronic pioneer to film score maestro.

Naturally, Sakamoto included seminal works like “Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence,” the iconic theme from Nagisa Oshima’s stirring anti-war film of the same name. His elegant solo piano rendition striped the song back to its emotional core, revealing its bittersweet beauty in its purest form. Selections from “The Last Emperor” also featured, works that won him an Academy Award—a testament to his ability to immerse audiences in either Eastern or Western cultures through music alone.

Beyond his most famous pieces, Sakamoto reinterpreted classics with fresh improvisations. He reinvented early synth-pop hits from Yellow Magic Orchestra in novel ways, like slowing the tempo of the bouncy “Tong Poo” to produce new layers of poignancy. Sakamoto also unearthed more hidden gems, playing works that had never been performed solo on piano before. Throughout, his stripped back arrangements highlighted intricate melodic details that lingered in the memory.

Through this thoughtful compilation, Sakamoto imparted one final lesson on the enduring impact of a life’s work. With each succeeding song, viewers witnessed the evolution of an artist who never stopped pushing creative boundaries. His nuanced performances inspired appreciation for both the traditions he built upon and reinvented, leaving an indelible mark on film, electronic and concert music.

Ryuichi Sakamoto’s Intimate Musical Farewell

Despite evident physical struggles from his illness, Ryuichi Sakamoto played with conspicuous technical skill and meditative focus during what would be his final recorded performance. Camera angles affording close views of his hands revealed a musician completely immersed in the music, conducting intricate rhythms and melodies with subtle gestures. Wider shots capturing his face showed a performer emotionally wedded to every note.

During slower pieces, Sakamoto’s expressions conveyed a profound vulnerability. Revisiting compositions from across his lengthy career, ones he had played countless times before, his eyes hinted at deep reflection on a life’s work and what it meant to bid that farewell. His gaze seemed drawn inwards, as if communing with private memories through the instrument.

Yet his demeanor was not wholly melancholy. Livelier tempos brought a faint smile dancing at the edges of his lips, and a livelier rhythmic pulse to his conducting hands. One sensed he still found joy in summoning effervescent melodies from the piano, even in that intimate setting, as if eager to offer moments of levity amid the solemnity.

Whether uplifting or introspective, each piece emanated from an artist determined to wring from them every subtle emotion, every nuanced texture, in what he must have known would be his valedictory performance.

The Enduring Gift of Ryuichi Sakamoto

Ryuichi Sakamoto approached his final recorded performances captured in “Opus” with a profound purposefulness. Both he and director Neo Sora were aware this would be the last music Sakamoto would share. Over several days of playing, the lighting in the studio subtly shifted, almost imperceptibly at first, from bright morning to softer evening, marking the passage of time.

For Sakamoto, this span presented an opportunity to reflect on his journey through a career that influenced generations of musicians. He selected pieces spanning five decades to craft a narrative of his evolution as an artist. Beloved soundtrack works sit side-by-side with pioneering electronic music and intimate improvisations. His playing infuses each song with new layers of depth and emotion, revealing fresh insights.

Certain selections feel especially poignant, like the delicate rendition of “Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence’s” beloved theme. Where it once captivated as an exotic fusion of cultures, on piano it gains a quiet desperation that mirrors Sakamoto’s own circumstances. His performances throughout become steadily more vulnerable. By the end, only a small lamp lights the stage, as if to symbolize the dimming of his own life.

Throughout, Sakamoto maintained an focused intentness. Although he admitted the effort caused strain, his love for the music renewal powered his playing. For those watching, his gift is to guide us through both a cherished body of work and his own journey towards its close. “Opus” stands not only as a chronicle of Sakamoto’s incomparable career, but a poignant farewell and parting gesture from one of music’s greats. His enduring legacy will remain in the memories and hearts he touched.

Farewell to a Master

Through Opus, Ryuichi Sakamoto gifted us with an intimate parting gesture. In its simplicity lay a profound expressiveness. On the bare stage, with only his instrument as companion, Sakamoto quietly bid us farewell. His selection prowled the career of a prolific and boundary-pushing artist. Familiar favorites mingled with fresh revelations of untapped depths in each composition.

Between pieces, in those rare unguarded moments, we glimpse a performer nearing the final act. Exhausted by effort but determined in his purpose, Sakamoto grants us a privileged window into his process. The film moves at his measured pace, a vessel bearing profound emotions across the silent space. Light and camera trace shifting textures on Sakamoto’s focused features, creased by deep reflection.

His son’s care is evident in each intimate frame. With compassionate direction, Neo ensures the music remains foremost even as filming draws close. In Opus, Sakamoto was granted freedom to simply be—a man alone with art, bidding it shape the moment.

Though now his physical form is memory, his artistic spirit finds renewal through both the lingering melodies and this touching document of final communion through music. Sakamoto’s indelible legacy is one that, like all great art, enables him to play on.