ピアノの部屋/GALERIE PARIS展示記録/2026

ピアノの部屋

私の実家には「ピアノの部屋」と呼ばれる小さな空間があった。玄関を入ってすぐ右。幼い頃の私は、分からないことや不安に出会うとその部屋に閉じこもり、鍵盤に触れていた。演奏は拙かったが、音に包まれると気持ちは穏やかになった。

中学三年のある日、父から「ずっと音がうるさいと思っていた」と告げられ、十年続けたピアノは終わりを迎えた。私は反抗期の勢いのまま楽譜を破り、ピアノの部屋の狭い床は白い紙片で埋もれた。その後、母がそれをゴミ袋三袋分ほどに詰めて捨ててくれた。趣味だったし、言われて辞める程度ならそれまで——どこかで私はそう理解していたのかもしれない。ピアノはほどなく、二万円に満たない額で売られた。

ピアノを失ってから数年間、私は「分からないものと向き合う術」を持たなかった。困難も疑問も直接胸に刺さった。高校でミッションスクールに入り、毎朝毎晩聖歌を歌うたびに楽譜が目に入り、少し胸が痛んだが、やがて慣れた。転機は高校二年の夏、初めてのデッサン講習だった。対象を見つめ、理解しようと手を動かす六時間は一瞬だった。鍵盤に触れていた時間の延長線上に、美術という新たな手段を手に入れた。

現在の私の制作は「理解しきれないものに手を伸ばす過程」に関心がある。断片や影を手がかりに想像し、見えない輪郭に触れようとする行為。検索で答えに辿り着ける時代だからこそ、あえて未知の余白を抱えたまま進む時間に価値を感じている。

本展「ピアノの部屋」は、音楽から美術へと表現の手段が変化していった記憶の層を、空間の中で辿り直す試みである。展示終盤には、高校時代に歌っていた聖歌の譜面を、鉛筆で和紙に書き起こした断片が現れる。それらは切り分けられ、紐で繋ぎ直され、空間の中に立ち上がる。

かつて私は、楽譜を破ることしかできなかった。いまは同じ楽譜を素材に、繋ぎ直すという行為を通して、音とは異なるかたちで表現を続けている。

それは音ではないが、

なお何かが響き続ける

“もう一つのピアノ”である。

“The Piano Room”

There was a small space in my parents’ house called the piano room. It was immediately to the right after entering the front door. As a child, whenever I felt anxious or encountered something I could not understand, I would shut myself inside that room and touch the keys. My playing was clumsy but being enveloped by sound brought me a sense of calm.

One day, in my third year of junior high, my father said, “I had always found the sound of your piano noisy.” With those words, ten years of playing came to an end. In a surge of adolescent emotion, I tore up all the sheet music, and the narrow floor of the piano room was covered in white fragments of paper. Later, my mother gathered them into about three garbage bags and threw them away. It had been a hobby, after all—perhaps somewhere inside I understood that if I could stop because I was told to, then that was all it had ever been. The piano was later sold for less than 20,000 yen.

For several years after losing the piano, I no longer had a way to confront things I could not understand. Difficulties and doubts pierced me directly. I entered a Christian mission school in high school, and every morning and evening I sang hymns; seeing the sheet music brought a slight pain to my chest, though I gradually grew accustomed to it. A turning point came in the summer of my second year, when I attended a drawing workshop for the first time. Six hours spent looking at an object and trying to understand it through my hands, passed in an instant. Along the extension of the time, I had once spent touching the keys, I found a new means of expression: art.

My current practice is centered on the process of reaching toward things that cannot be fully understood. Using fragments and shadows as clues, I imagine what cannot be seen and try to touch its outline. In an age where answers can be found instantly, I find value in moving forward while holding onto spaces of the unknown.

The Piano Room is an attempt to retrace, within space, layers of memory in which my means of expression shifted from music to visual art. Toward the end of the exhibition, fragments of sheet music from hymns I sang in high school, transcribed in pencil onto washi paper, appear. These fragments are cut apart, reconnected with string, and rise within the space.

Once, I could do nothing but tear sheet music apart. Now, using the same material, I continue to express myself through the act of reconnecting—through a form different from sound.

It is not sound,

yet something continues to resonate

another piano.

photo by 柳場　大