Dream/Window 1985 for orchestra, by Toru Takemitsu, is a relatively short piece of music as classical music goes—about fourteen minutes in length. I will not try to describe it or analyze it here, only to say that I very much like the piece. What inspires me to write this blog post are some comments that Takemitsu made regarding it.
I had always taken the title to suggest a window into one’s dreams, but Takemitsu states that the title is actually taken from the Buddhist name of a Zen priest, Muso Soseki, who lived in the Muromachi Period (appr. 1336 – 1573). Mu means dream and so means window.
Muso Soseki was renowned for designing gardens, and one of his most famous is that of the Saiho-ji Temple, popularly known as the Moss Temple, in Kyoto. But Dream/Window is not just about the Moss Temple, its more about the relationship between the Moss Temple and the entire city of Kyoto.
Takemitsu sees Kyoto as a very “complex urban space.” He describes it thusly; “In Kyoto a progressive tendency coexists with an entrenched conservatism, concealing a dynamism different from that of Tokyo or Osaka. Beneath the hushed serenity of Kyoto, the gears of change grind on and on without cease. At the core of my image of Kyoto is this struggle of such opposing tendencies. The name ‘Muso’ (i.e. Dream window) seemed the perfect symbol for this struggle.”
An old saying, “Every stick has two ends.” It’s the very essence of duality that Takemitsu wants to capture in his piece. He goes on to say, “I use ‘dream’ and ‘window’ as metaphors for two contradictory dynamisms of facing inwards and outwards. To make the inner and the outer resound simultaneously is the prime objective of the music.”
What catches my attention most is his aim of ‘simultaneity’. I can easily look inward at thoughts, images, memories, etc., and I can likewise look outwards at the world through my senses, but how can I do both simultaneously?
I remember an exhibit I attended many years ago of Buddhist art at the Art Institute of Chicago. One of the sculptures I saw made a deep impression on me and remains a guiding image of my life to this day. It was of a seating Buddha made of stone about three feet in height. It was placed in the middle of a hall, and I noticed it immediately when I entered the hall.
Perhaps forty feet away, its eyes appeared to be open, but as I walked closer to it, it began to appear to me that its eyes were closed. This appearance of eyes altering between open and closed continued as I walked closer. Finally, standing right in front of it, I saw that its eyes were half open. I am sure that the phenomenon I experienced was intentional—that the artist knew how to create it.
The half open eyes suggested to me that one could move through life—experience life—with one’s attention simultaneously on one’s inner and outer worlds, and that this state would create a more complete and more accurate experience. Was not Takemitsu trying to capture this state in Dream/Window?
“I use ‘dream’ and ‘window’ as metaphors for the two contradictory dynamisms of facing inwards and outwards. To make the inner and the outer to resound simultaneously is the prime object of music.”
Does Takemitsu achieve his objective? I guess that is for each listener to decide for himself. Personally, I find his objective is in harmony with my own objective regarding life and consciousness in general, i.e. trying to find that balance between my inner and outer worlds, like the Buddha with half open eyes…
