Keiichiro Shibuya
Since its 2017 debut, Keiichiro Shibuya’s ANDROID OPERA has evolved from an experimental theater piece into a boundary-defying artistic statement. Initially conceived as an android-led orchestra, its progression mirrors humanity’s intricate dance with technology’s unpredictability. Shibuya’s latest project, MIRROR, replaces chaos with exploration, introducing an android as both vocalist and improviser. Accompanied by five Japanese monks performing the ancient shōmyō chant, the result is a harmonic blend that transcends tradition and the digital realm.
This philosophical and technological fusion is not limited to the stage. The album, crafted using AI-generated lyrics and computer-simulated orchestration, is an audacious reflection on the intersection of human intuition and machine precision. Shibuya’s singular piano playing grounds this artificial symphony, expressing solitude amid a world shaped by algorithms.
Collaborations with leading researchers and artists further enrich MIRROR. By integrating Western thought with Eastern animism, the work challenges conventional notions of music, inviting listeners to imagine alternate futures. As Shibuya suggests, technology might accelerate humanity’s demise, but within its instability lies the potential for unexpected connections.
Your work often bridges the gap between human emotion and technological precision. What inspired the concept of ANDROID OPERA MIRROR, and how has it evolved since its inception in 2017?
When I first created the ANDROID OPERA in 2017, the idea centered on a theatrical work with an android and an orchestra. At its core, the android was envisioned as the lead performer—a singer and conductor, much like Frank Sinatra or Björk, surrounded by an orchestra. However, this staging intentionally placed the android at the center, challenging the traditional human-centric dynamic. The android's conducting was deliberately programmed to feel unstable, constantly teetering on the edge of malfunction or unpredictability.
The human orchestra’s reaction to this instability mirrored a larger metaphor: humanity's response to the accidents and malfunctions of the technology that increasingly governs our lives. This work was designed to embrace these potential errors as part of its fabric.
When the prototype of MIRROR was premiered in Dubai (2022), it was during a tumultuous time—amid the COVID-19 pandemic and the onset of the Russia-Ukraine war. Even during rehearsals, military exercises in the Middle East added an unsettling backdrop. As the disharmony in the real world continued to escalate, I began to feel that making technological errors the central theme of the performance was no longer as compelling.
Instead, I shifted my focus to exploring the android’s evolution, not as a conductor, but as a vocalist and improviser. In the theatrical version of MIRROR, the android performs alongside five Japanese monks who serve as a chorus, corresponding with them, improvised singing. This interaction transcends time and space, creating a new kind of harmony that has never been heard before. We also pushed the boundaries of vocal timbre and texture, layering three to six voices in the compositions.
These experiments culminated in what I consider the first fully realized form of the Android Opera. Releasing the MIRROR album became a natural next step, showcasing the progress and potential of this unique harmony of technology and human creativity.
““Pain is a vital part of our lives
The world you have once loved is no longer yours””
The album features an AI-conducted orchestra and a solo vocalist, with your piano as the sole human element. How do you view this interplay between human intuition and machine logic in an artistic context?
Nowadays, it's possible to compose intuitively using computer programs, but conversely, humans can also compose with extreme precision. This relationship is reversible. In a world now facing it's possible end, I wanted to metaphysically express the confrontation between humanity grappling with this reality and the relentless evolution of technology. That’s why nearly all the sounds were created using computers, but as a human, I chose to face them alone with my piano.
ANDROID OPERA MIRROR draws from a rich history of collaborations, including your previous Vocaloid opera THE END. What lessons from those experiences shaped this new project?
ANDROID OPERA MIRROR has been developed in collaboration with renowned scientists such as robotic researcher Hiroshi Ishiguro (Osaka University) and complex systems and artificial life expert Takashi Ikegami (University of Tokyo). On the other hand, the theatrical version of MIRROR includes a collaboration with shōmyō—a form of chanting with a 1,200-year history considered Japan’s oldest music—performed by monks from Mount Koya.
I’ve often chosen collaborators who are outside the realms of classical and electronic music, which form my own background. While having a clear vision of the final work, it’s crucial not to be rigidly bound by it and to remain open to different contributions.
Specifically, I’ve learned that the pace of work between scientists and musicians can differ significantly. Musicians often work under strict deadlines for concerts and deliverables, while researchers operate on a different timeline. This taught me not to rely entirely on collaborators but to take the lead myself, defining clear boundaries for their contributions.
For instance, shōmyō has a strict tradition, so rather than trying to change it or push performers into unfamiliar territory, I focused on how to integrate it into my own vision to create something new. Similarly, Justine Emard, the visual artist participating in MIRROR, comes from a Western academic background. MIRROR combines elements of Western thought and Eastern animism, so I ensured she deeply understood the concept and pushed her slightly beyond her usual creative approach.
By having each collaborator step slightly outside their comfort zones while I guided the overall direction, the resulting errors and spontaneous expressions contributed to the intensity and power of the work. This balance of leadership and collaboration became a vital lesson in shaping this project.
Tracks like Scary Beauty and Midnight Swan integrate speculative science fiction themes with classical structures. How do you approach balancing narrative imagination with the technical demands of composition?
Sometimes classical structures and harmonies, and easy-to-understand pop melodies can be effective in communicating new concepts. You can make music more futuristic and experimental, but that can make your work lean in one direction. If the contrast between the new and the classical disappears, it can dilute the power of the work. It's boring if the vocabulary only appeals to a limited audience. What I wanted to create was ‘new harmony’. I was careful to do this in both the songs and the album as a whole. I could have made it more contemporary, but I think there have been too many approaches like that in the past, where the work itself is too inclined towards noise and confusion, and I don't think it would be interesting for me to do that.
The album incorporates research from Osaka University’s Android and Music Science Laboratory. How has this collaboration influenced your creative process, particularly in shaping the role of AI in your music?
The Android and Music Science Laboratory at Osaka University of Arts was established to deepen the relationship between androids and music. While I’ve explored incorporating AI into composition, what stands out most at this stage is its potential with language. In this album, for example, the lyrics were generated by AI and sung by an android, creating a sense of dissonance. This contrasts with the classical sound of the orchestra, but there’s another layer of complexity—the orchestral sound, which resembles that of a human orchestra, was actually created using highly advanced software technology.
In other projects, like the piece On Certainty, I used a computer program called “Text to Note” to transform Wittgenstein’s words into a musical score. Beyond AI, I am consistently interested in incorporating methods or elements into my compositions that are not entirely driven by my own intent, allowing for unexpected and innovative outcomes.
Your music often transcends traditional boundaries, resonating in spaces as diverse as film, fashion campaigns, and global events. What does context mean to you when creating pieces like I Come From the Moon or MIRROR?
Every context serves as a trigger for imagination. I’ve never seen it as a limitation—on the contrary, it always works effectively as a part of the creative process.
There’s a philosophical undertone to your work, such as the existential musings in Scary Beauty. What questions about the future of humanity and technology drive your compositions?
Technology itself evolves endlessly—it has no endpoint. Yet, it’s undeniable that technology also accelerates the world’s demise, a paradox I find deeply fascinating. In this sense, androids, as “human-shaped technology,” embody a contradictory existence. From the beginning, I envisioned them as a bridge or hub between humans and technology, and this idea has become increasingly tangible.
Interestingly, I’ve noticed that my team shows far more enthusiasm and unity when working on projects like ANDROID OPERA compared to my solo concerts. They rally around this unstable, central figure of the android, supporting it in a way that creates a unique sense of collaboration. This suggests to me that there are alternative possibilities beyond the linear narrative of technology simply driving humanity toward an apocalyptic future—something more complex and worth exploring.
As the head of ATAK, you’ve curated a platform for avant-garde pioneers. How does your role as a label head inform or challenge your personal creative endeavors?
The emergence of laptops in the late 1990s revolutionized electronic music, drastically transforming its form and creating immense opportunities for artists. For someone like me, with a background in Western music, it was a groundbreaking development. I was deeply inspired by this shift and wanted to create a platform to support it—that’s how ATAK was born.
The reality now is that I’m fully immersed in my own creations and projects, leaving little time to curate for other artists. Today, I see ATAK more as a label and production dedicated to my own work, allowing me to focus entirely on my creative pursuits.
With the release of ANDROID OPERA MIRROR on the horizon, what do you hope listeners will take away from this project, especially as it relates to the dialogue between human and machine artistry?
What I can say is that this album is electronic music at its core. It features an android’s vocals, a computer-generated orchestra, electronic beats, and noise—almost entirely artificial elements.
At first listen, you might sense the classical elements of an orchestra, but everything is digital, a constructed reality. In the past, I’ve created works using only electronics, incorporating drones and technology. With this project, I wanted to take that to the next level.
Rather than emphasizing obvious novelty or experimentation, I hope listeners can discover a hidden atmosphere, one they’ve never felt before, and imagine a vision of the future. My concept is set in a world after its end—where, by chance, I’ve survived and am performing alongside a virtual android and orchestra. It’s an image akin to a vacuum.
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