I created it by remixing styles such as low-poly 3D games, cartoon animation, classic science fiction films, and detective stories.

Description: At some point in time, humanity vanished from Earth in an instant. Countless pieces of space debris are scattered across Earth’s orbit. Among that debris, an optical disc happens to slip into a player, and the track begins to play. The thoughts left within the music take on the physical phenomenon of vibration and rain down upon the Earth. Parabolic antennas on the ground listen to the vibrations, and radio towers transmit radio waves of their own accord. Signage in an abandoned city displays the performer’s image, obscured by noise, while a three-dimensional hologram is projected onto a sandy beach. Waves gently brush against feet, and a semi-transparent body traces out the choreography. A roadside cathode-ray tube set bears a face mottled with static, hallucinating seven figures who should not be there. When the track ends, the player ejects the optical disc. The Earth glows, and the debris continues to circle in orbit.

Commentary: In representing Mr. Nagase, who exists across the dimensions of media, what I had in mind was to show the moment of crossing between dimensions. The passage back and forth between dimensions gradually accelerates, until eventually it crosses dimensions frame by frame. So rapid that the temporal arrangement can be mistaken for spatial contact, and with a movement of flicker that is too fast to stop and yet seems to stand still, the translucent body placed within it can touch you on the retina, between frame and frame. The haze that only becomes visible through motion was also fitting for a melody that feels as if carved out of a raging current—or perhaps written automatically—gentle / eerie / light. Listen to the blur, like a lump of light, with your eyes and ears.

The scenery seen through the window of a night bus becomes a screen for memory.