Yuki Shibamoto: A Flutist Traveling Through Libraries

It hasn't been long since I started calling myself a "flutist." I fell in love with the tone of recorder player Minoru Yoshizawa and spent my days as a "flutist girl" from the age of 10. I chose the path of an actor upon graduating from university, but after many twists and turns, I knocked on my master's door again at the age of 30. Even though the "girl" part is gone, my training as a "flutist" continues under my master's guidance.

Actually, I was based in the United States until 2025. Believing that the sound I was looking for was in California, I spent a year struggling to obtain a visa. Just as I was watching my savings dwindle during the COVID-19 pandemic, a library by the sea in a predominantly Black neighborhood requested a performance. I headed out in high spirits for my first job in a long time, but five minutes before the start, no one had arrived. I went to the neighboring park to recruit an audience, but I was dismissed with a single glance. I marched through the library playing my flute, and two families in the courtyard reluctantly followed me, saying, "Only for one song."

Whether I cried or laughed, it all came down to that one song. I changed my plans and decided to play the opening theme of "The Lion King." A boy who had been sulking with his hat pulled low over his eyes opened them wide and grinned. A mother holding a baby started dancing, and everyone else followed. I joined the circle and played the flute while dancing. The boundary between the stage and the audience vanished, and everyone simply enjoyed the sound. Gradually, more people began to arrive, and the families who said they would stay for only one song ended up listening to many.

When I spoke with them, many said that while they couldn't visit concert halls for physical or economic reasons, they could come to their local library. I thought, "This is it!" With a list of libraries in hand, I went to each one to pitch myself and negotiate directly. Thanks to coverage by local media, requests increased, and I drove to various towns. Preferred songs varied by area and race, but Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World" always resulted in a massive sing-along. When I layered the sound of my flute over their singing voices, I felt glad I had chosen the flute.

Now that I have returned to Japan, I am grateful to have opportunities to perform in various places. Not only in libraries, but also in art museums, churches, botanical gardens, and halls—I fly around with my flute, treating every encounter as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It makes me truly happy when people say things like, "The sound of the recorder is so soothing for the soul."

Now, dear readers, this too is a stroke of fate. How about the sound of a flute in your town? I look forward to hearing from you.