"In founding Hitasura, I decided to build a space of freedom. Being recorded seems important for the kind of musicians we are today. Recording gives a legitimacy, credentials to the musician-performer, that is one who does not compose music which is offered to their public. News about recordings has become an important part of our lives, and now we are regularly asked, "what is your next album,“ etc. To not record things would be to gradually disappear, since it would mean that we have nothing to say. For me, personally, someone who has always teetered between leading the life of a writer or pursuing a career as a musician, the time involved in long solitary preparations leading to a publication in which the final output is provided to an invisible audience, represents a rhythm I find particularly suitable. However, it is important nowadays to offer the freedom to choose the pace and conditions, the favourable artistic content of an activity of this importance.
After years have passed, during which our fervour remained intact, years of research, experimentation, of tireless practice, a maturity ensues which makes precisely this the appropriate time to record more than ever. But the difficulties too often involved in editing discs have led editors to be more cautious and to make more reasonable choices. But our vocation—to us artists—is precisely to be unreasonable, to be unpredictable and thus to conjure dreams; to never follow the hackneyed ways and safe bets of the mainstream but rather to open up new paths. We know the value of these pathways because they are the fruit of our work and of our lives. But these values which have just now come from within our imagination, still brand new—only we can recognise them, and only we can defend them. So it is for us to speak, because we know that a public does exist for everything that is meaningful, and that the public disappears only when we attempt to communicate with it without having meaning, without having something to tell it.
We'll record what we have been nurturing for so long: of course Bach, and it is good to have waited for that music. There will also be Biber, Scarlatti, Couperin, Rameau, English music, Mozart: all the things which we love and wish more than ever to share.
The first time I heard the word Hitasura, I felt immediately it described a concept for me of paramount importance, touching, central. I immediately realised it was a Japanese version of the Spanish duende—another central notion—which represented a very narrow and internal way, the idea of burning intensity in the present moment. And then I realised that in Hitasura one also finds rectitude, dedication to a unique act; the intensity appearing exactly because we have emptied the spirit and heart of every unnecessary thing. I know of no better definition of what we seek though music without daring to say too much.
I would like each note to transform into an emotion, a colour, a gesture, a word, a fragment of language. I wish for no single note be left to sound without purpose or sense, without emotion or hue. We have to reevaluate everything we think, forget all that we already know, in order to revitalise these venerable forms. If we really respect and love them they will give the impression of being revived, vivacious and eternal. Our challenge is to reinvent the way we play, all of our technique, so that not the notes but the music pervades".