~Hakurei Shrine~ > Touhou Addict Recovery Center

Characters, music, personalities.

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Fightest: Hey everyone, I'm back and I'll apologize for the lack of an immediate update - I went over my Reisen entry and realised it was a sad trainwreck of an analysis, so I've scrapped pretty much the whole thing and am going to start over. I'll have a look at Marisa's other themes, and add side-by-side comparisons to my list of projects once this one's done. As for Wind God Girl - I'll do the PoFV one, and will add a few comments on the extended BAiJR version.

Fightest: Reisen Udongein Inaba ? Lunatic Eyes ~ Invisible Full Moon This piece is less a continuous description of Reisen?s character more than it is a set of clips taken at random points in her daily life, showing widely varying character aspects that come together to show us a great view of Reisen's personality. The introduction sounds strange, no two words about it. *checks* Yep, I?ve gone over something like this before, so you might find some familiar elements if you compare Lunatic Eyes to Doll Judgment. The repeating themes oscillate up and down in an interval of a perfect fourth, leading to parallel fourths (against classical composition sensibilities) making up the entire introduction, telling us that yes, Reisen is strange, and is not going to get less so if you just keep on looking. Better yet, the arpeggio that makes up each individual part of the motif is a diminished minor chord by itself, hostile and unapproachable, making the entire section wonderfully twisted. Thus our first clip ? a wary and unfamiliar Reisen is an alien Reisen. Imagine those stereoscopic pictures you get ? a mass of shapes and colours, and if you don?t know what to do, how to look properly, it?s just not going to make any sense. Unfortunately, the stereoscopic picture that is Reisen is not going to give instructions on how to approach her properly. The second clip I like to think of showing Reisen doing whatever assignment she might have. It?s characterized by two distinct parts: chords carefully and slowly going down, and arpeggioes that get quicker and finer going up. Additionally, we have a refreshing break from the strange non-melody of the introduction, although there isn?t much melody in this part either, it?s still more melodic. The accompaniment is extremely minimal in this section, just a single broken chord, with no additional instrumental support. This leads to an interesting contrast between the up and down sections. In the down-moving section, the combination of simple chords moving down in a scale into a cadence at the end with little accompaniment suggests simplicity and lack of complication. On the other hand, the section going up starts off simple, but becomes quicker and quicker as it reaches the top, culminating in a series of extremely precise and detailed arpeggioes, which, when combined with a simple accompaniment, suggests extreme focus on one single thing, removing any potential distractions. What does that say? I feel it says that Reisen comes in two flavours ? simple and straightforward at one time, but equally capable of intense detail and concentration at another, and she does not have any real preference between the two, applying each as required. She can easily differentiate these two aspects, and never allows them to mix ? she is thus careful and diligent in her work. She rarely allows emotion to colour her professional input. Third clip starts with that unmissable rock guitar. Clearly it says one thing ? Reisen rocks! This section is rich in instrumentation, loud and boisterous, in a major key, daring to switch from the piano to the trumpets. This, I would like to think, is Reisen off-duty and amongst friends. She is outgoing and generous, eagerly voicing her thoughts, letting positive emotion colour them. It is as if all those suppressed feelings in the first and second clips just explode here ? this is the only real melodic section in the piece. The melody itself is nothing to look at, the usual 2x8-bar fare with a bit of a variation in the second set of 8 bars, but it?s not the melody that is important here ? it?s the contrasting outburst that really makes this section live. I don?t have much more to say about Reisen ? she is very professional, very serious in separating her work from play, she is like the person who you know is seen as a complete weirdo by others, but they make sense to you completely because you know them, and, in fact, she is a very social and outward person, but only at the appropriate time. (For those curious, I identify perfect fourths by comparing them to the two opening notes from the Russian national anthem, which are, obviously, a perfect fourth. It's a neat little shortcut from sounding out scales in my head.)

Fightest: Took me a while to get here, but we're finally on the Imperishable Night final stretch! Eirin Yagokoro - Gensokyo Millennium ~ History of the Moon Much like Septette and Cherry Blossom of Sumizome before it, Millennium is chock-full of stuff, obviously fitting for a 1000+-year-old space nurse. A large part of this piece is its majesty, its loftiness and its aged elegance. The first 22 seconds are a pan up, as it were, of the listener's perception all the way up Eirin's imposing figure to the piercing gaze of her eyes. The sonorous piano chords and carefully-measured arpeggioes combined with long, powerful trumpet notes accompanying show us the presence that Eirin commands, her charisma, combined with a shrewd perception of her surroundings. The first part starts with trumpets playing the melody supported by strings - violins, specifically, playing long, legato notes. The piece lifts the listener way up in the clouds and stays there, the sweeping melody of the trumpet and strings presenting an immense feeling of freedom in a vast space, and, importantly, of one's being totally in control there. The melody suddenly loses focus of the surroundings as the instrumentation changes to what I can only describe as down-to-earth. The melody's still the same, so we're still looking at the same person, in the same place, but the focus has moved from the freedom to the humility. Don't get me wrong, that does not mean simplicity - the instrumentation comprising the melody has, from what I can tell, pipe organ, piano and guitar, giving a thick, worldly sound. The strings have gone so as not call our attention back to the vastness that's being hidden behind Eirin. Eirin is naturally majestic, easily earning the "larger-than-life" descriptor. That does not stop her from noticing the everyday things around her, from stooping down to understand those without a force of personality to match hers. She is thus compassionate. The second part is a connecting passage to the third, here to lift the listener to the vastness of space where Eirin is so comfortable. Imagine this part as the takeoff of a rocket: the resonant piano chords and arpeggioes sort of mill about on the spot, seemingly impatient to get somewhere - the rocket enters its ignition sequence and the flames and fumes obscure the whole launch platform as the rocket unbearably slowly rises into the air, and then those octaves come in, mirroring the might of the craft's inoxerable movement upwards, the arpeggioes getting higher and higher in pitch... And the third part is back where the first one started, and here to explore Eirin in her natural state of majesty. The instrumentation will remain trumpet and piano for a while, and texture-wise notes are always long and sparse, especially in the melody, to maintain that open-space feeling. The accompaniment quickly increases in note density, however, to contrast the melody: this is something that we've noticed in other characters, something that shows power bubbling just below the surface - in Eirin's case it elegantly flows from the accompaniment to her "majestic" character, so I'd say that it's Eirin's power that gives her that force of personality. It does not flow out unchecked like in Yukari's case, but, rather, it does not need to be controlled - it's natural flow is completely within Eirin, if you understand what I'm trying to say. It's interesting that even when the melody switches gears by changing key it stays the same, with the same accompaniment and texture - Eirin remains herself regardless of what she does. She is not one to trick with false pretenses, instead she will simply approach a different situation with a different approach, but with her usual character. A small intermezzo has ZUN riffing away. Much like in Septette, this part sounds improvised (I means emphasis on freeform playing around the melody, like jazz improvisation, not poorly-prepared, you naysayers you), showing Eirin has a tendency, maybe a bit like Remilia, to self-indulgent outbursts, something strongly at odds with the rest of her theme. These are rare and short-lived as Eirin catches herself - or someone else catches her at it - and hastily returns to her usual attitude - but this time it might be a bit of an embarassed act, as the improvisational motif can be clearly heard in the background. I would think that Eirin does not like being caught when not in full control of her situation. I would like to theorize that Eirin might be slightly ashamed at having picked up distinctly Earthly mannerisms, specifically selfishness and self-indulgence. Despite that, they remain a guilty pleasure to her.

Fightest: *Fightest briefly wonders if he's chased away his usual crowd* Kaguya Houraisan - Flight of the Bamboo Cutter ~ Lunatic Princess This piece has a good demonstration of how instrumentation reveals character aspects as opposed to overt changes in the melody or accompaniment. Curiously, there isn't as much stuff going on here as Millennium, Septette or Cherry Blossom. I guess Kaguya is still a child, despite being a thousand-plus-years-old, and simply hasn't developed the complications and contradictions present in an adult. Those first 15 seconds set the pace of the rest of the piece, to me. Only Bamboo Cutter and Cherry Blossom so far have that little pre-introduction that has a motif that will be repeated in the melody proper. Curious, I read ahead and found out that this won't happened again in any boss theme up to and including Cosmic Mind. Perhaps it's unique to princesses? After all, royalty is raised to present a proper image from first impressions, so I would think that Kaguya is well-versed in that - we hear a charming melody, maybe even childishly so in its simplicity, yet calm and measured, as befits nobility, with an echoing tone provided by the synthesiser to instill a sense of cosmic majesty. Kaguya is impatient, however, and this impatience shows through in the broken chords that start bubbling away behind that melody, growing louder and louder until they overcome the melody to explode out. But it's not a childish tantrum - the broken chords stay in a low pitch, the instrument (a hard-to-define synthesiser sound, perhaps again a pipe organ variant) making it an ominous hum. This, I feel, is the seething fury of frustration and annoyance - Kaguya does not enjoy putting on regal airs, she feels the whole "noblesse oblige" thing holds her back, slows her down. This is well-demonstrated in the first proper part of the piece. The melody is the same as in the first 15 seconds, but it has more volume, more force behind it in the trumpet, and it is also faster. This is the same Kaguya, but with all the stops pulled out, without the artificial and annoying mannerisms that she is forced - or that she forces herself - to put on. The "real" Kaguya is strong, confident, hard-to-miss. Curiously, the melody loses much sense of individuality in the first part, as we've heard plenty of powerful trumpet motifs before that show strength and confidence. It is possible that this is something Kaguya desires - maybe she is showing that she can kick butt just as well as anyone else. Perhaps she doesn't like her sense of individuality coming from a title and the assumptions that come with it, as opposed to her actual personality. The first part was far more of a tantrum than the frustrated fury before it, and as it ends, we see that Kaguya isn't done. The connecting passage has not calmed down much, still maintaining its harsh tempo throughout. It's not the fury as before, but, perhaps, that feeling that occurs when one's vented all one's anger, but the feeling of rage hasn't yet fully subsided, so they thrash around simply due to momentum more than anything else. And then Kaguya catches herself. The transition is too sudden to be a natural calming process, so it had to have been a conscious effort. The third part starts somewhat more controlled, more regal - the trumpet notes are long, the accompaniment is likewise. Both sit in a relatively low pitch to demonstrate that there is no exuberance or lack of control here. Unfortunately this stays for all of 4 bars, before that treacherous pipe-organ-thing starts up again, this time in the upper octaves - where it was a growl in the lower octaves, now it's cute and flighty. The trumpet melody appears to try to suppress the pipes' uncontrolled nature, but appears to give up as the pipes are joined by piano, also in high pitch, demanding for that part to be heard. Much as many other characters, Kaguya has two sides to her - the child and the princess. In Kaguya's case, however, one of these sides - the princess - is completely, forcefully, constructed by Kaguya herself. It is very likely that she dislikes this side of her that was deemed necessary by whoever brought her up. Despite that, she has a natural regal bearing, which is coloured strongly by her mental youth - the child sometimes demands things that the princess can never indulge in. The two sides are frequently in conflict, each having its upper hand every once in a while. This leads to Kaguya being almost perpetually annoyed and frustrated as her wants are never fully satisfied, and she has nobody to truly blame but herself, so she lashes out at everyone instead.

Fightest: Final one for Imperishable Night! Fujiwara no Mokou - Reach for the Moon, Immortal Smoke I mentioned upthread that I had trouble seeing Mokou in this particular piece. Now, I'm beginning to come around to see the more positive side of her, but I'm still not there, so this analysis might not really be on the mark. Unlike the previous extra boss themes, this one starts off surprisingly like Kaguya's. In fact, the entire piece is uncannily similar to Bamboo Cutter, structurally speaking. Now, the little characteristics that make the characters stand out are different, but there's something to be said how alike the two of them are. I won't really go much deeper into this, there's plenty to Mokou as it is. The pre-introduction introduces a melody that will stay for most of the rest of the piece. Mokou is of a noble family, so perhaps it, indeed, is something common to aristocratic characters to explicitly introduce a major character theme so quickly. I'll postpone the content of the pre-introduction until later and go into the part that immediately follows it, the one that mirrors Kaguya's frustration. The busy, unrelenting, menacingly deep sound of the organ to me portrays one thing above all others - fire. The kind of fire that you see enveloping a large building on the inside - it seems to just cover every surface with a thick, everflowing layer of colour and heat. Not the sudden, explosive fire of a flamethrower or a bomb's fireball, but the enveloping, elder blaze of a forest fire, or the creeping inferno of a lava flow (god I love all these fire-related words). In other words, Mokou's fire is experienced and ancient. Unfortunately, Mokou herself seems to lack the ancient wisdom present in her fire. The melody that was introduced in the pre-introduction has a very distinct Oriental air to it, most likely due to the harmonic minor scales and augmented second intervals that keep going around in it. Considering Mokou's backstory, this could well be the portrayal of the sensibilities of her past. Consider how this motif is repeated, over and over, like a mantra, burning (ha!) itself into the listener's mind. Despite Gensokyo as a positive setting (from here on I'll refer to it as Gensokyo+, as it seems to want to crop up all the time), Mokou will have dark sides to her no matter how her story is spun - and in this case I wish to present that perhaps Mokou is suffering an existential crisis from having realised that she's been living pretty much 1300 years in the past, letting centuries just pass her by, eventually coming to the conclusion that there currently is nothing to her. I believe that Mokou is not satisfied with this, and has begun searching for herself that exists now, as opposed to back then. The constant repeat of that motif might show that Mokou is using her distant past as an anchor point, a part in her life that she can really remember herself in. She might even mock herself for this - the motif picks up some distinct whimsical electronic tones in the higher pitch. We'll find out more about this later. The piece moves onto the fire again - unchanged, still as awesome and menacing as ever. It is certainly possible that Mokou takes comfort and relief from any psychological issues she might have in giving herself over to the spirit of fire that resides within her (figure of speech, but from what I remember of canon, this might be not too far off from being literal). The next part starts off with an unusual instrumental choice - small, melodic bells playing a whimsical, mostly meaningless series of notes - not even really a tune but more of a set of arpeggioes and broken chords, an exercise, something to add to the anchor motif that remains in the background. Perhaps Mokou is searching for herself by trying out unusual behaviours, unusual mannerisms, seeing if any part of them fits? That distinct sound of self-mocking is still there, but the bell exercise continues unperturbed, and soon enough merges with the anchor, creating something that wasn't there, something greater than the sum of its parts. Perhaps tired, the melody reverts to its anchor, before excitedly bringing the bells back for another go. Has Mokou found something concrete? Something to add to herself that isn't a 1300-year-old memory? Mokou certainly thinks so - triumphant trumpets, all long and legato superimpose on top of the anchor, the bells still there, jingling away in their newfound place - all show a sense of honest victory. The anchor still remains though, perhaps as Mokou reminds herself that there is still much to find out about herself, and she cannot afford to lose what little progress she made this time. Having gone through this analysis, I'm actually very satisfied with this version of Mokou - realising, perhaps with a sense of dismay, that there was nothing more to her than a millenium-old set of memories, Mokou carefully and methodically started putting together a personality for herself, something she can call "I" without shame or artifice. It's a slow, exhausting process, but it clearly yields results, as we can see how the piece with a lot of effort and finality progresses from "anchor" to "anchor+bells" (to "anchor+bells+trumpets" to celebrate, but I don't think it really counts). To summarise, Mokou is hardcore - instead of moping about not understanding who she is, and taking the long and winding path up an imaginary mountain, letting circumstance tell her what her lot in life is, she punches through the mountain and picks up what comes raining down at her leisure. I've just made Mokou my most favourite Touhou character ever to myself, and if I keep writing I'll just start gushing. With this extremely satisfying note I'll end my analysis of Imperishable Night. Next up should be Phantasmagoria of Flower View, but I don't feel like I've listened to it enough. Also it's not actually on my mp3 player. I'll see what I do next, but I'll try my best not to break continuity.

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