Kazuya Nagaya is a Japanese musician and author who’s been releasing music since the end of the last millennium. Employing electronics, bells, gongs and singing bowls, his music could be described as “ambient”. Drawing on the Buddhism and traditional arts of his homeland, and striving for the same goals of spiritual simplicity and purity. Self-releasing his early productions, Nagaya’s later albums were picked up by labels based in Barcelona and Geneva, while Berlin’s !K7 licensed the 2020 long-player, “Dream Interpretation”. The European giant subsequently commissioning remixes from big techno names such as Steve Rachmad and Dubfire. 

Nagaya’s latest project, “Lumina”, is a deeply personal work that marks his mother’s passing, and celebrates his parents’ lives. Throwing himself into the process as a form of grieving and healing, and expanding his sonic palette to include operatic vocals, poetry, Buddhist chanting and a small chamber orchestra. The results, in his own words, are “a meditation on memory, loss and enduring family bonds.” It is an extremely moving listen, especially if experienced while reading Nagaya’s accompanying text. 

The opening “Ondine” seems steeped in sorrow, while “Memoria” battles, close to beaten by sadness. Like the majority of tracks here, both are epic, emotive, string-soaked arrangements that call to mind the music of contemporary composers such as Max Richter and Clarice Jensen, and display an honest vulnerability, a humanity that these days we aren’t commonly encouraged to share. Brainwashed, instead, into taking sides and venting anger, not compassion. 

“All Sunken Ships” paints an authentic picture of pain and bereavement. Via keys and whispers summoning a sense that all is lost. Something that must be endured before a way forward can be built. A plummet from a precipice that you won’t return from in one piece. Regrets faced in the fall that you may be forced to keep secret. Thoughts you’ll never quite shake, and that occupy quiet moments. Things you should have said, would have said, if you’d stopped to consider that time was short. An idea reinforced by the chiming clock heard on “Numen”. 

The title track is an ethereal evocation of chant, choir and organ drone. “Sea And Eternity” adds koto to the symphonies and soprano. “Ascenden” has the air of a Latin mass mixed by Burial. The spoken word “Lux” then emphasises the album’s narrative quality. Each number like a scene in a play or a movie. Where “Swan” is a score for an exhausted calm, a stillness, a heartbroken hollow, and “Skyward” is, finally, steady again. Forever altered, but stronger. Ready for tomorrow. 

Kazuya Nagaya’s “Lumina” can be ordered directly from Bandcamp. The download includes an accompanying 25 page booklet of essays, poems and photographs.