RO ON SPACE & SOUND – 4

“NIJO CASTLE”

The Shinden-style structure stood serene, surrounded by walls of stone slab; it was silhouetted against a sooty sky, which was lit only by a sickle-shaped sliver of silver.

We stepped upon the stretch of slats with silken tread. But soft-footed though we were, a sound startled us when our soles sunk onto the strips. The sound was wispy, sibilant, like a soulful strain streaming from a flute.

Perhaps it sprung from the slightest slits between the slats? The more surreptitious our stalk, the more strident it seemed, shadowing our every step. Step: squeak. Step: squeak. Step-step: squeak-squeak. A sonnet by a spirited bird of song no doubt – the Nightingale.

So the sweet soprano sang to signal those who dwelt within – to warn them of a sly and stealthy Samurai, who came scheming to slay the Shogun with shining sword in hand.

The Shogun’s soldiers were stationed in strategic spots in the subsidiary halls, which surrounded the inner Shinden, or the sanctum – safe within which was the Sovereign. They stood stalwart but silent in these secret spaces, ready to stave off the shifty Samurai, seize him and strike him senseless when the songbird gave so much as the slightest sign.

Spellbound with this saga and the song of the floors swelling like a sea into my auditory senses, I’d stepped into the seventeenth century. So much so that when my sweetheart placed his hand upon my shoulder to give it a little squeeze, I sprung out of my skin with a start.

[This encounter with Sound in the Space of Nijo Castle in Kyoto, and the impact of its nightingale floors upon me has been described with figures of sound.]