ASUNA - 100 Keyboards @ NAFA 2026 - Oct 10

Now for something completely different. For my final NAFA show of the year, it was wonderful to encounter something genuinely unexpected. Staged at Dancenorth HQ, Japanese sound artist ASUNA’s 100 Keyboards was less a conventional performance than a 90-minute sensory experience, one that transformed a collection of seemingly ordinary electronic instruments into an extraordinary landscape of sound, movement and vibration.

The title is refreshingly literal. One hundred keyboards were arranged in a large circle, waiting to be brought to life. Beginning in near silence, ASUNA moved from instrument to instrument, using Paddle Pop sticks to jam down individual keys. One by one, new notes entered the space, the sound accumulating incrementally over the course of an hour until the individual keyboards became almost impossible to distinguish. What began quietly eventually developed into an orchestra of electronic sound, a humming, synthetic wall that at times resembled an enormous chorus of cicadas.

There was something fascinating about watching ASUNA construct this soundscape in real time. His movements between the keyboards initially appeared almost random, but there was clearly purpose behind his choices. He regularly returned to instruments he had already activated, adding more notes or tweaking combinations, with some keyboards eventually holding five or more keys at once. Each small adjustment altered the collective sound.

It also became, somewhat unexpectedly, a physical performance. ASUNA was constantly on the move, stepping around and between the keyboards as he built his electronic orchestra. As the performance progressed, he gradually peeled off outer layers of clothing in an effort to remain cool, a wonderfully human reminder of the physical labour required to create something that could otherwise have seemed entirely mechanical.

At times, 100 Keyboards was deeply meditative. Some audience members lay on the floor and closed their eyes, allowing themselves to become enveloped in the layers of sound. But as the volume and sonic intensity increased, the experience shifted. We were encouraged to get up, move around the installation and explore it from different positions.

That freedom of movement became an important part of the experience. Up close, it was fascinating simply to inspect the extraordinary variety of keyboards ASUNA had assembled. Some were brightly coloured and childlike, while others appeared designed for the more serious musician, loaded with buttons, functions and possibilities. Moving through the circle also changed the listening experience. Rather than encountering one fixed wall of sound, the audience could experience different combinations and resonances depending on where they stood.

And then came the descent. After spending so long patiently constructing this huge sonic environment, ASUNA began removing the Paddle Pop sticks. Just as the work had grown one keyboard and one note at a time, it now gradually unravelled. The intensity softened, the lights dimmed and the room slowly returned to the meditative state in which the performance had begun. Eventually, there was silence.

After 60 minutes of almost perpetual motion, ASUNA was finally still, and the audience responded with a huge and deserved round of applause.

The experience did not quite end there. The final section was an artist Q&A, during which ASUNA used a visual presentation to explain the inspiration and ideas behind 100 Keyboards. It provided valuable context for what we had just experienced, particularly the work’s exploration of complex resonances, interference patterns and constantly shifting sonic textures.

Across the full 90 minutes, 100 Keyboards asked its audience not simply to watch or listen but to inhabit sound: to lie within it, walk through it, inspect its source and notice how it changed around us. It began with silence, grew into an almost overwhelming electronic ecosystem, then carefully dismantled itself until nothing remained.

As my final NAFA experience of the year, it was a particularly memorable way to finish: strange, hypnotic, surprisingly physical and unlike anything else I had seen at the festival.