Descending through the trees along the pilgrimage route to Mount Ōmine—a World Heritage site—from the former Nyonin Kekkai(women-prohibited) gate, one eventually arrives at the Yamagami River. The river is so breathtakingly beautiful that I could not imagine exhibiting sounds of my own creation there. Instead, I decided to install a device that would serve as a boundary—an apparatus to make visitors notice the sound of the river flowing with infinite resolution.

I recorded the sound of the Yamagami River from upstream to downstream, layered the recordings, and produced a noise that most effectively masks the actual sound of the river. By playing this noise just before the river comes into view, I created a place where the true sound of the river is temporarily erased. Immediately after passing through this invisible sonic boundary, the river appears before one’s eyes, and one becomes aware of its real sound. The word “Erode”, meaning “to erode,” originates here from a coding process referring to noise reduction relative to a target.

On this land, managed by the Ministry of the Environment, it was not permitted to run cables along the ground. The only option was to have a mountain forester use cedar trees as makeshift utility poles to suspend the cables overhead. It was then discovered that each tree in this area had a different owner; thanks to the tremendous efforts of the art festival team and the people of Tenkawa Village, we were able to obtain permission from every owner before the installation date, allowing the work to be realized. While producing a work for an outdoor environment, I often wondered whether the piece was truly worthy of the unseen labor and environmental considerations that supported it. Having been given this opportunity, I wanted to avoid creating something harmless and inconsequential. Perhaps part of an artist’s role is to create an environment that cannot be made from resources alone.