The Infinite Zenith

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Tag Archives: Music

Wonderful World: Luminous Witches First Episode Impressions

“The best morale exist when you never hear the word mentioned. When you hear a lot of talk about it, it’s usually lousy.” –Dwight D. Eisenhower

Grace Maitland Steward provides cover for the the Dunkirk Evacuation in 1941, while Virginia Robertson comes into contact with a falling star. Four years later, Virginia decides to travel to London, where she hopes to return Moffy, her Familiar. Here, she runs into Lyudmila Andreyevna Ruslanova, a Orussian Witch who’s trying to find Albert Hall, and Inori Shibuya, a Fuso Witch that Lyudmila’s Familiar drags along with him. Their chance meeting leads the three to travel around London and learn more about one another – Virginia hails from Scotland and is completely unfamiliar with Witches, while Lyudmila is a terrible shot, and Shibyua is planning on leaving the armed forces. All three manage to catch a glimpse of Aira Paivikki Linnamaa, an ace Witch turned singer: it turns out Lyudmila had went to London to see Aira prior to leaving the service. Meanwhile, Grace exits a meeting where she had tried to persuade the command of implementing a dedicated unit for raising morale, arguing that songs can save people just as effectively as bullets do. Although she’s unsuccessful, she catches the eye of Felicia Louisa Gresley, who agrees with Grace’s plan. Later, while riding a bus, Grace spots Virginia singing and hastens to catch up to her, but by the time she can disembark, Virginia has left with Lyudmila and Inori for the Royal Britannia Museum, where Inori believes they might be able to learn more about Virginia’s Familiar. Grace eventually comes up with the idea of the League of Nations Air Forces Aviation Magic Band (LNAF Band for brevity), and these ads catch the eye of various misfit Witches who are not combat-effective, but wish to contribute to the war effort in their own way. With this, Luminous Witches‘ first episode is now in the books, and the events surrounding how the LNAF Band (informally referred to as the Music Squadron) would come to be and provide morale-boosting concerts in a time when humanity most desperately needed support in a brutal fight against the Neuroi.

Right out of the gates, Luminous Witches establishes that the LNAF Band’s members are not active soldiers; Virginia herself is a Witch with no training whatsoever, and lacks any understanding of what Witches around the world do. Instead, she’s an optimistic and friendly girl with a great love for music, using her magic to tap into music from great distances and sing to her heart’s content. Lyudmila and Inori, on the other hand, are soldiers who do not feel they can serve well alongside other Witches; Inori’s shortcoming has not yet been shown, but Lyudmila is such a poor shot she can hit everything except her target. Other Witches, which viewers gain brief glimpses of, are similarly lacking; Maria Magdalene Dietrich has trouble waking up in the morning and misses training extensively, while Silvie Cariello constantly is sidelined despite being a hard worker with a good record in training. The remainder of who will become the LNAF Band’s members are similarly unfortunate and all possess traits that render them unable to participate in combat despite their desire to do good. As such, assembling the LNAF Band means initially taking a misfit group of, for the lack of a better word, losers, and giving them a chance to make a contribution to the war effort in another way. Through Grace and the LNAF Band, then, Luminous Witches is setting the stage for a familiar, but reassuring message – people can still contribute in their own way so long as their hearts are in the right place. Such a message is par the course for a Strike Witches series, and while Luminous Witches may not deal with the Neuroi directly, once the LNAF Band get to know one another and gain momentum, they will earn their place in the history books alongside the likes of Hikari Karibuchi and Yoshika Miyafuji.

Screenshots and Commentary

  • In 2017, Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk began screening in local cinemas, portraying the incredible sense of tension present during the Dunkirk Evacuation from land, sea and air. Luminous Witches opens with the Dunkirk Evacuation, portraying Grace as doing what she can; what she witnesses here contribute to her decision to start the LNAF Band later on, but this is about as serious as things get. When Luminous Witches was first announced, it was July 2018, and beyond the premise, as well as the fact that SHAFT was working on Luminous Witches, not much more was known.

  • Things remained quiet right through 2020, when Road to Berlin aired, and last year, a short preview video was released, depicting the LNAF Band as they prepared for a photo shoot that goes awry when everyone’s Familiars make a sudden appearance. At the heart of Luminous Witches is Virginia, a Witch from the rural Britannia. Although she’s technically a Night Witch (any Witch with the ability to control and manipulate magical waves akin to EMR), she does not appear to have any aversions to light and starts her journey with a trip to London, where she hopes to reunite her Familiar with others of its kind.

  • In London, Lyudmila meets Inori for the first time; the former is interested in getting to Albert Hall but keeps losing her direction. Strike Witches has always excelled with their casts: having everyone hail from a different nation and allowing everyone to bounce off one another is what keeps this series light-hearted and fun even when times look tough. An Orussian Witch, Lyudmila finds herself unsuited for combat owing to her poor accuracy, and had hoped to catch a glimpse of Aira before heading home. Inori, on the other hand, is planning on transferring out for her own reasons, and out of the gates, she’s become my favourite of the LNAF Band members, if only for the fact that she resembles Uma Musume‘s Special Week and Mizuki from This Art Club Has a Problem!.

  • Strike Witches is serious when it needs to be, but for the most part, comedic mishaps are inevitable when one places a bunch of youth together for extended periods of time. Outside of the battlefield, Witches are ordinary girls and act as such, so moments like these, resulting from Virginia’s Familiar causing unforeseen trouble, aren’t too out of place in Luminous Witches. Seeing SHAFT’s portrayal of London affirms that from a visual perspective, Luminous Witches is going to be of a satisfactory quality: after the preview video became available, it became clear that said video was little more than a short vignette providing little more than a glimpse into life as a music Witch.

  • While a preview video hinted that the televised series would become available soon, all news of Luminous Witches had ceased, leaving me to wonder whether or not this anime would be released. As it turns out, challenges with production led the release date to be pushed back: officially, the reason stated was “unforeseen difficulties”, but some fans have speculated that some of the voice actresses who were involved in the project had taken ill, so more time was needed for everyone to recover such that they could finish recording all of their lines. If this first episode is anything to go by, the wait was worth it – I had become worried that preview video might be all viewers would get of the Music Squadron, but fortunately, this is not the case.

  • In the beginning, a handful of Witches do indeed transition over to music: Aira is surprised to find that Eleonore has not changed in preparation of greeting their guests prior to the evening’s show. Aira is an excellent singer, and while Eleonore performs with her as a supporting vocalist, the latter appears to see singing as a secondary duty. Luminous Witches, at first glance, is little more than a variant of Love Live! or The Idolmaster set in the Strike Witches universe, but in reality, singers were very much a part of World War Two, and every Witch in the LNAF Band has a real-world equivalent.

  • I imagine that Luminous Witches was green-lit after the Strike Witches franchise saw a resurgence through Brave Witches and Road to Berlin: the original Strike Witches had been an exercise in fanservice, but as the series continued, it became a fantastic story about bravery and fighting to protect what is dear to oneself in a world that is vividly written. Idols and concerts in Strike Witches may seem out of place, but between the fact that music was indeed a part of morale boosting during the Second World War, and the fact that idol anime can drive music sales, Luminous Witches is a logical addition to Strike Witches. However, while Grace has been trying to push this point to command, she’s having trouble conveying this to grizzled brass whose priority is winning the Human-Neuroi War.

  • Luminous Witches marks the first time I’ve seen Familiars in Strike Witches: although written media indicates that all Witches have one, Strike Witches and Brave Witches never portrayed them (presumably on time constraints). Lyudmila and Inori explain to Virginia that the Familiars are spirits that manifest in a form that only Witches can see. Despite the plethora of details in the Strike Witches world, I’ve always found that every series has done a good job of Familiarising viewers with things through the perspective of a newcomer. Virginia fulfils this role in Luminous Witches, and in a series where combat is not the emphasis, it is logical to finally introduce the Familiars.

  • While Grace was unsuccessful in convincing the top brass of her plan’s viability, the idea of a Witch band intrigues Felicia, an older lady who appears to carry some clout. She agrees that morale is vital, and as they share a conversation, the pair pass by some “To Victory” posters. Posters were also a major part of the Allied propaganda engine – although propaganda is defined as misinformation deliberately tailored to influence people’s opinions and is a major reason why our understanding of foreign nations is so diminished, in the opposite direction, propaganda can also be used to rally morale and encourage people to tough things out.

  • The British were apt at this: the famous “Keep Calm and Carry On” posters is such an example of the British Government looking to keep people focused on survival and defeating the Axis forces. However, in the present day, propaganda of this sort is ineffective because of increasing stratification in society. For instance, when governments announced “We’re all in this together” during the early days of the global health crisis, they failed to account for the most vulnerable groups, and this created cynicism in how well authorities were managing things. At the opposite end of the spectrum, propaganda rooted in the hatred and untruth remains effective because it shifts blame and foists responsibility onto a scapegoat, a low-effort endeavour.

  • This is a consequence of the fact that the human brain reacts more strongly to negative stimulus, but while negativity is easier, constant cynicism is taxing on mental health. As such, things that can be done to lift people’s spirits become important, and in the context of Luminous Witches, in a society that already is galvanised towards beating the Neuroi, having something to look forwards to (such as Witch concerts) would be valuable. Grace may lack the ability to put these thoughts down into words, but her intentions are clear, and given Luminous Witches‘ premise, the creation of a Music Squadron is expected.

  • While Lyudmila and Inori’s Familiars spar with Moffy as everyone heads towards Albert Hall, I note here that everyone’s outfitted in a very conventional fashion; Virginia, Lyudmila and Inori are all wearing skirts. Strike Witches was known for its emphasis on pantsu, and while this had drawn fans to the series initially, writers soon realised that Strike Witches was sufficiently engaging so that they could reduce the now-infamous crotch shots and still have people watch the series on the merits of world-building and character growth. The end result is that Luminous Witches is probably going to be the most family-friendly of the Strike Witches instalments.

  • Of everyone, Lyudmila is the most versed with the musical witches, and she melts in happiness after seeing Aira passing by in a car. Characters are not typically introduced without reason, so every Witch that was seen in Luminous Witches‘ first episode will be important later down the line. Seeing glimpses of the other Witches’ lives provides viewers with a modicum of insight into why everyone joins the LNAF Band – as Lyudmila states, while all Witches have magic, not everyone can utilise these abilities in a way that is directly useful for repelling the Neuroi.

  • As such, it would be quite unreasonable to expect that Virginia and her newfound friends will end up taking to the skies and downing a Neuroi Hive as the 501st and 502nd have done. However, the worth of having Witches tour the European theatre and sing for soldiers cannot be understated – Witches understand what other Witches are up to, and musical Witches therefore have the unique ability communicate successes to audiences. Coming from a Witch, messages of Human perseverance and endurance would take on additional meaning.

  • Because Virginia hasn’t even gone through basic training, her magic manifests in a form that suits her innate traits: when her powers are active, she projects a pair of headphones. Up until now, she’s only used this power to tune in to other broadcasts and sing along with them, becoming a skilled singer in the process. Although these abilities aren’t likely to bring down a Neuroi, it leaves Virginia perfectly suited for the central role she’s set to play in Luminous Witches.

  • Virginia is modelled on Jeannie Robertson, a Scottish folk singer who had learnt to sing thanks to her mother. In 1953, Jeannie met Hamish Henderson – he’d been interested in learning about Scottish ballads. There are variants of what happened next, but all of them end with Hamish becoming impressed with Jeannie’s singing, resulting in her music becoming recorded. I’m not sure how closely Luminous Witches will follow reality, but hints of Jeannie’s history are present in Virginia; both are from Scotland and have an innate interest in music that would later gain them recognition.

  • Lyudmila is modelled on Lidia Ruslanova, a Russian folk singer who sang at a factory while working and was sent to music school when coworkers recognised her talent. Although lacking strengths in music theory, she loved music and would go on numerous tours, singing for soldiers on the front. Inori, on the other hand, is Luminous Witches‘ Noriko Awaya – hailing from a poor family, she graduated from music school and began her career in singing classical songs, but later moved on to singing popular songs and produced several hits, although she would also come to disapprove of later Japanese artists like Seiko Matsuda. Here, after Virginia explains why she’s in London, Inori suggests that they hit the Britannian Museum to see if they can learn anything about Familiars.

  • In the real world, the British Museum is home to exhibits on art, history and culture. Founded in 1753, the building today was designed by Sir Robert Smirk in the Greek Revival style and began in 1833. True to its real-life counterpart, the museum seen in Luminous Witches is closed for repairs after sustaining damage in an airstrike. The real museum was hit with several bombs during the Blitz, and some parts of the museum were not fully repaired until the 1960s.

  • While Virginia spends a full day with Inori and Lyudmila, Grace had spent her afternoon trying to track down Virginia after hearing her singing, to no avail. Back in her office, she struggles to come up with a proposal for her project, but later will design the posters that advertise the LNAF Band. Becasue of the presence of a Music Squadron for Witches who aren’t combat effective, the promise that Virginia, Lyudmila and Inori share, to meet again one day, will shortly be realised.

  • Luminous Witches is off to a solid start – the idea of a Music Squadron in the LNAF Band is actually quite appropriate from a story perspective and would help with further expanding the Strike Witches universe in ways that a story dedicated to the frontlines cannot, and from a financial perspective, can also produce excellent music. In upcoming episodes, more characters are going to be introduced, and I’m ready to meet the other members of the LNAF Band as everyone sets about practising for their performances and, potentially, even travel around Europe to lift the spirits of soldiers fighting against the Neuroi.

Despite being set in the same universe as Strike Witches and Brave Witches, Luminous Witches‘ focus means that this series will inevitably feel more like Wake Up, Girls!, Love Live! or The Idolmaster rather than Strike Witches; the emphasis here is on musical theory, vocals, instrumentation and dance choreography over weapons handling, combat strategies and daily training. The premise means that, by definition, Luminous Witches will lack the same emotional tenour as previous Strike Witches. However, because the stakes are not as severe, this gives Luminous Witches a chance to let Witches bounce off one another as they practise and train for their roles, too. Previously, Strike Witches and Brave Witches both needed to strike a balance between advancing the story in the Human-Neuroi War, and while episodes could do substantial world-building, time also needed to be spent on combat operations and the requisite character growth needed for the squadrons to succeed. By comparison, because the LNAF Band are intended to travel around and sing for civilians to boost morale, this represents a chance to further explore the world that Strike Witches had established. Between the reduced emphasis on combat, and the fact that the LNAF Band will be composed of a raggedy-ass bunch of misfits, it becomes clear that Luminous Witches represents a departure from tradition, but will remain a series that is worth following for fans of Strike Witches who’ve been curious about further world-building, as well as fans of the military moé who possess a modicum of interest in idols and music. Beyond this, since we’re only one episode into Luminous Witches, it’s tricky to say where this anime is headed, but a solid start means I’m looking forwards to see how Virginia and the others will handle meeting their fellow band members; there might be no guns, but I imagine that for the first little while, there will be bumps and bruises as everyone gets accustomed to one another before turning their attention towards the shared goal of helping out in the Human-Neuroi War in their own way, even if they’re no longer soaring through the skies as their counterparts typically would.

Running and Inviting: Revisiting the Beginning of Tari Tari a Decade Later and the Choir and Sometimes Badminton Club’s Influence On a Journal Publication

“Challenges are what make life interesting. Overcoming them is what makes life meaningful.” –Joshua Marine

When Tari Tari was announced, beyond a key visual of three characters who greatly resembled their counterparts from Hanasaku Iroha, there had been very little information surrounding what this series would deal with. After the first episode concluded, it became clear enough that Tari Tari would be musically themed; viewers are introduced to Konatsu Matsumoto, a disgraced member of the choir club who wants to sing for her own enjoyment and Wakana Sakai, who is transferring out of the music program in a bid to move on after her mother’s passing. Tari Tari would ultimately detail how these two conflicting paths would reconcile, and how seeing Konatsu’s earnest efforts towards pursuing an interest would remind Wakana of how her own mother had approached music, as well. This would lead Wakana to come to terms with her past and in doing so, help Konatsu, Sawa, Taichi and Atsuhiro create something meaningful as their school sends off their final cohort of graduates ahead of a redevelopment project. Uplifting and inspiring, Tari Tari indicates that when people stumble, it is support from others that help them to find their way again. Unlike other series, Tari Tari has a very intense pacing: Wakana comes to terms with her mother’s death mid-series, and uses her newfound enjoyment of music to both help Konatsu leave a legacy behind as their school closes, as well as Sawa to find her way again when she begins to lose hope after being rejected from an equestrian program. Much as how Sawa and Konatsu had tried to help Wakana, Wakana is able to grow and return the favour to her friends in a big way. The first episode of Tari Tari, however, betrays none of this to viewers: at the end of the first episode, viewers were only introduced to the characters, creating a sense of intrigue as to how the series would unfold. First impressions in anime are important, and Tari Tari certainly captured my interest during a time when, having finished my physics course, I became wholly focused on preparing for the MCAT. Each and every week, I had a new episode of Tari Tari to look forwards to, and seeing how the series showed a group of individuals putting in the effort to make something bigger than themselves would have another, unforeseen impact on what I ended up doing after the MCAT concluded.

A half-year before Tari Tari began airing, one of my colleagues had suggested the idea of submitting a paper to an undergraduate journal about the versatility of our lab’s in-house game engine in visualising and interacting with biological processes. After classes ended, we would spend time drafting notes on what the paper would deal with in the student lounge on the medical campus. Halfway into the winter term, however, the coursework began picking up – I was struggling with biochemistry and needed to keep up with cell and molecular biology, while my friends similarly became busy with their own studies. The paper became forgotten as a result. When my MCAT finished, I had three weeks left in the summer left to me. By this point in time, Sawa had recovered her own determination after overhearing her father vouching for her while on the phone with an admissions officer from the equestrian institute she’d applied to. Together with encouragement from Wakana, Konatsu, Taichi and Atsuhiro, Sawa returns to school to help her friends convince the music instructor they should be allowed to perform at the culture festival. In the last hour, everyone had pulled through and set the groundwork for realising their wish of doing something together. Although three weeks was not a lot of time, my summer schedule had been quite open. I therefore approached two of my other colleagues who’d been interested in the paper, and they readily agreed to continue with the paper, being more than happy to refine their notes into passages. In the space of two weeks, I worked on the paper and transformed a set of notes into a full-fledged publication. My peers were pleased, but to my surprise, my supervisor was also impressed. A few revisions later, we had a complete first draft ready for submission. Both my colleagues had suggested that I take the first author position, having spearheaded the paper; while I am not one for ceremony, it suddenly dawned on me that a desire to do more with my summer beyond just the MCAT had left me with an experience not unlike that of Tari Tari. Having now written our first-ever publications in a journal, I became curious to see how Tari Tari would conclude, and the ending, which aired as my undergraduate thesis project was under way, was every bit as heartwarming and satisfying to watch.

Screenshots and Commentary

  • Tari Tari caught my eye because I had greatly enjoyed Hanasaku Iroha: at the time, I would’ve still been a novice to anime, and had picked my series based on their similarities to shows I’d previously watched. At first glance, the character designs in Tari Tari were very familiar and had clear counterparts in Hanasaku Iroha: Wakana is Minko, Konatsu is Ohana and Sawa is Nako. However, while there are some overlaps in terms of personality, I would quickly find that Sawa is more confident and foward, while Wakana lacks Minko’s bite. Konatsu, while energetic, lacks the same stubbornness seen in Ohana.

  • The music in Tari Tari is top-tier: Shirō Hamaguchi is the composer for the anime’s soundtrack, and the series’ leitmotif, Kokoro no Senritsu, was such an iconic song that I felt compelled to watch this series on the virtue of listening to the music alone. As it turns out, Hamaguchi has a very extensive resume to his name, having previously composed the music to Ah! My Goddess, and later, would score the soundtracks for Shirobako and Girls und Panzer. Hints of Ah! My Goddess and Girls und Panzer can indeed be heard in Shirobako‘s music. However, Hamaguchi is a versatile composer, unlike Kenji Kawai or Hiroyuki Sawanoo, whose style makes them immediately recognisable.

  • In its opening moments, Tari Tari gives all of the main characters some shine time so their personalities can be established; unlike Hanasaku Iroha, which had two cours of time to work with, Tari Tari only has thirteen episodes. This meant that there is a lot less time to develop nuances, and I found that compared to the previous anime I watched, such as Ah! My GoddessAzumanga DaiohGundam 00 and Real Drive, things were a lot more condensed. The early 2010s were a time when anime studios were transitioning away from two cour series so they could work on a wider range of projects, and today, one cour series are more common than they had previously been.

  • On his first day of classes, Atsuhiro transferred into the same class as Sawa, Konatsu, Wakana and Taichi. Atsuhiro’s commonly known as “Wein” because he’s from Vienna, and while he’s unfamiliar with Japanese customs, speaks Japanese well enough. Tari Tari chooses to have him framed in a way as to face the school by morning to reinforce the idea that he’s new around these parts, and while originally, I had the least to say about Atsuhiro, it turns out he fulfills an important role: he acts as a surrogate for the viewer, who’s effectively dropped into things. Atsuhiro, like viewers, are unfamiliar with everything that’s going on around in Tari Tari, but over time, would come to get to know Wakana and her group better.

  • Even today, the visual details in Tari Tari are impressive: True Tears had been unremarkable, but from Angel Beats! onward, P.A. Work directed a great deal of effort into their lighting effects. Scenes end up becoming much more vibrant, and reflections are used to great effect. Here, one can see subtle reflections in the gymnasium’s wooden floor, and throughout the remainder of Tari Tari, reflections are utilised to make environments pop more. In giving spaces a shiny and reflective character, P.A. Works’ locations convey a sense of cleanliness.

  • While Wakana might not be friends with Sawa and Konatsu per se at the beginning of Tari Tari, everyone does appear to know one another well enough to share a conversation. Wakana is voiced by Ayahi Takagaki, whom I know best as Gundam 00‘s Feldt Grace, True Tears‘ Noe Isurugi and Honoka Ishikawa of Non Non Biyori. Now that I think about it, Wakana has the same voice as Honoka, so I’m actually a little surprised I didn’t notice this earlier. There’s a slightly childish trait about Takagaki’s voice in portraying Wakana and Honoka that makes both characters quite endearing. I’m not too familiar with Asami Seto’s roles, but I know Saori Hayami (Sawa) best as GochiUsa‘s Aoyama Blue Mountain, Yuzuki Shiraishi of A Place Further Than The Universe and Oregairu‘s Yukino Yukinoshita. Hayami is playing Ruby Rose in RWBY: Ice Queendom, as well.

  • Instructor Tomoko Takahashi is set to go on maternity leave at Tari Tari‘s beginning: this decision was made to emphasise to viewers that they are dropped into the story at a time of great change. Tari Tari would ultimately convey many themes, but at the heart of this anime is the idea that people always have the chance to count on one another and overcome obstacles that are too great for one to handle individually. This theme is a very popular one because it mirrors human society: our greatest achievements come as a consequence of teamwork and collaboration.

  • At Tari Tari‘s beginning, Konatsu struggles with music. She loves singing greatly, but ever since an incident which saw her fail spectacularly, she was demoted from an active role. She tries to convince the Vice Principal to reconsider reinstating her, but she is unsuccessful: the Vice Principal, Naoko Takakura, believes that one must approach music with finesse and precision. This behaviour foreshadows her own past friendship with Wakana’s mother, who had been very free-spirited and felt the best music came when people were free to be themselves. To dull the pain of Wakana’s mother’s passing, Naoko takes a very serious and no-nonsense approach to music.

  • Since the Hanasaku Iroha days, P.A. Works has been very fond of adding what I call “funny faces” to their anime. Said funny faces are usually a particularly strong reaction to something, and while some folks felt they break immersion, I’ve always found that funny faces really show how characters are feeling in ways that words and actions alone cannot. Funny faces reached their height in Shirobako, where Aoi Miyamori would sport a myriad of expressions in response to frustrations she encounters while on the job. Subsequent works, like The World In Colours, dispensed with this completely, but more recently, The Aquatope on White Sand brought funny faces back.

  • P.A. Works has gone through a lot over the past decade, and while they don’t always produce works I’m interested in watching, I’ve found that their coming-of-age and workplace are their strongest series, telling a very convincing and authentic tale of growth and self-discovery. This is a matter of personal preference: I happen to enjoy anime set in the real world, dealing with people and their problems. With this in mind, not every individual will share this perspective, and this is perfectly fine. However, over the past ten years, I’ve noticed people hating on P.A. Works to an unnecessary extent: AnimeSuki even has their own dedicated thread for criticising and tearing down the studio for everything they’ve produced after Hanasaku Iroha.

  • Things eventually reached a point where people regard True Tears and Shirobako as the only works of note P.A. Works has produced, with every else being an abject failure. After taking a closer look, it turns out some of AnimeSuki’s members, especially one Pocari Sweat, popularised the intense vitriol that arises whenever the name Mari Okada comes up. It is one thing to watch an anime all the way through and then do a reasoned breakdown of why it failed for an individual, but it is quite another to broadly dismiss a work simply because Mari Okada’s name appears as the series’ director.

  • Although I get that people have certain directors they dislike (Pocari Sweat’s hatred of Mari Okada is equivalent to people who do not watch Michael Bay films because of their hectic cutting and emphasis on special effects over substance), to have maintained this level of hatred for over a decade is unhealthy. I personally assess series based purely on its own merits and generally couldn’t care less about who’s directing it. While directors do have a signature style (e.g. Christopher Nolan’s films are very contemplative) that impact how a story unfolds, the worth of a work is based on how themes come together with other things like acting, visuals and flow.

  • Tari Tari was directed by Masakazu Hashimoto, who had previously worked on storyboards for Hanasaku Iroha and Angel Beats!, and as such, has a more subtle feel about it (whereas Mari Okada would’ve been a little more blunt about things). In a series about finding one’s path, this approach ends up being a ways more appropriate – there is some drama in Tari Tari, on account of the series being a coming-of-age story towards the end of secondary school, but things are resolved in a satisfying and conclusive manner.

  • As memory serves, I actually didn’t watch Tari Tari on its original airing date: a decade earlier, I’d been enjoying a day out in the mountains on a well-deserved break from studying for the MCAT, and ended up writing about the first episode on the second of July. Fast forward ten years, and the mountains have now become a very crowded destination owing to the fact that National Parks having free admissions on Canada Day is now common knowledge. This year, I ended up taking the family out over to the Badlands to check out the Atlas Coal Mine, after making a promise to my parents that we’d do a mine tour some five years earlier.

  • Tari Tari is a series I consider to be underappreciated in the anime community; despite its short length, this was a series that captured, with full sincerity, what it feels like to take the initiative and make the most of something. Although perhaps seen as annoying those around her, Konatsu’s spirit means that she’s ultimately able to bring Wakana out of her shell, and in doing so, Konatsu indirectly helps Sawa out, as well. Tari Tari betrays none of this in its first episode, but the combination of likeable characters and visually appealing visuals meant that I had no trouble becoming invested in Tari Tari as my summer wore on.

  • From here on out, my focus was singularly directed towards the MCAT. Tari Tari and Kokoro Connect gave me something to look forward to weekly, while my day-to-day schedule was spent studying extensively in mornings and afternoons. On days where I had my MCAT preparation course, I would usually linger on campus until around two in the afternoon before returning home. After five, I would put the brakes on studying and kicked back by spending most of my time in Team Fortress 2. My friend also introduced me to MicroVolts, which proved to be a fun third person arena shooter until the servers shut down

  • Without a physics course to also focus on, my days developed a pattern, and over the course of the summer, my practises MCAT scores climbed. From a score of 14 on my first-ever full length, I would rise to a 27 by the time Tari Tari reached its third episode, and by the time Wakana’s love of music returns to her at Tari Tari‘s halfway point, I scored a 33 on my last full-length practise exam. Emboldened, I finally felt ready to square off against the MCAT, and in the aftermath of the exam, I saw myself with nearly three full weeks of break left. Seeing the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club work tirelessly to put something together for their school festival inspired me to pick up the journal publication, which my colleagues had started but left unfinished.

  • Much as how Konatsu was able to start things with her spirit and have the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club send their school off in a bang, my efforts were met with a successful publication. I entered my undergraduate thesis year filled to the brim with confidence, and while the MCAT score would remain little more than a curious topic for dinner conversation, the learnings that I picked up from the summer of a decade earlier have remained relevant right up to the present. Similarly, Tari Tari has aged very gracefully: despite being ten years old, the anime’s themes are still applicable, and the artwork itself looks gorgeous. It’s certainly worth a watch, representing a very optimistic tale of how great things can manifest when one opens their heart to those around them.

Although I was effectively four months behind on my undergraduate thesis work (I effectively spent the entire summer at my desk studying for various exams while my peers were laying down the foundations to their thesis project), working on the paper led me to realise that, because of how modular and flexible the game engine was, I already had my project. Within the space of two weeks, I had drafted out a complete proposal of what my own undergraduate thesis would be, and after my first week of term ended, I finished building a prototype proof-of-concept as a part of my proposal; in effect, I made up for three month’s worth of time lost in the space of a week. This was made possible by the fact that I’d known the game engine so well, as well as seeing what is possible when one is sufficiently motivated through Tari Tari. In Tari Tari, the narrative progresses very rapidly because the characters don’t dawdle: they either know exactly what their goals are and will not hesitate to act in a way as to pursue them, or, when they do stumble, people in their corner help to pick them back up. I would ultimately give my proposal presentation in front of my entire graduating class, and the project was given approval to proceed, right as Wakana and her friends put on a successful final musical performance before their school closed. In this way, Tari Tari would become a masterpiece for me. I would encounter some difficulty in finding the right words for praising this series, but in subsequent years, it would become clear that Tari Tari was a series that left a nontrivial impact on my life. While the series did receive an OVA with its ultimate collector’s addition, along with a sequel novel set ten years after everyone graduated, Wakana, Konatsu, Sawa, Taichi and Atsuhiro’s futures generally remain unknown to overseas fans of the series. However, if my outcomes are a reasonable precedence, it would be reasonable to suggest that, while the path may not have been the smoothest, everyone’s found their way as adults – this is an encouraging thought, but a part of me wishes to read the novel for myself because, despite Tari Tari having concluded in a very decisive manner, I’ve long wondered if Taichi ever was able to pursue a relationship with Sawa.

A Luminous Witches PV- Introducing The Allied Air Force Aviation Magic Band

“Music can heal the wounds which medicine cannot touch.” –Debasish Mridha

Unlike the various Joint Fighter Wings, The Music Squadron are a group of Witches whose role is to provide a morale booster to those in areas afflicted by the Human-Neuroi War. Rather than taking to the skies with machine guns and destroying the Neuroi in aerial combat, the Music Squadron travel around, giving live concerts to people to protect their smiles through the power of music. Of course, when they’re not travelling around Europe and performing, they’re also dealing with the publicity that surrounds being idols: when Lyudmila acquire a camera, they struggle to take proper pictures of one another. A handful of the Witches do seem to have a natural affinity for the limelight, including Aila and Éléonore, who strike various poses, and Sylvie, who feels at home with photo shoots. However, when the girls transform into their performance outfits, pandemonium ensues, ruining their group photo. The Music Squadron made their first animated debut in a short four-minute preview video that was released back in December 2020, and later this year, they’re supposed to get their own dedicated series, Luminous Witches. Very little has been announced insofar, and at the time of writing, it is not known when Luminous Witches will begin airing – I am guessing that we could see this series air during either the summer or fall season of this year.

Screenshots and Commentary

  • After the behemoth that was Jon’s Creator Showcase, this post on Luminous Witches is partially to show that yes, I am capable of writing short form posts, too. Here, Virginia, Lyudmila and Shibuya check out the camera, an apparatus which Shibuya believes will capture one’s soul if misused. Photographic have existed since 1825, when Joseph Nicéphore Niépce successfully captured an image using a pewter plate coated with bitumen. By the events of Luminous Witches, 35 mm film would’ve been common, and the existence of cameras would be common knowledge.

  • It did therefore strike me as a bit strange that the Witches would be unfamiliar with cameras, and here, Maria, Manaia and Sylvie join the party. Luminous Witches has a sizeable cast, and while a long time ago, this would’ve proven intimidating, these days, larger casts are no problem: it took me a few episodes to properly learn everyone’s name in Brave Witches and so, here in Luminous Witches, I’m sure I’ll be able to do the same once Luminous Witches actually starts airing.

  • Because the character archetypes in Magic Squadron seem to have parallels with members of the 501st and 502nd, I immediately felt at home when this preview video began running. When the girls try to photograph Manaia, they are unsuccessful because Manaia isn’t able to keep still. Here, Eleonore is seen holding a flashbulb: while cameras have been around for at least a century by the events of Luminous Witches, the flash bulb is a newer innovation: the earliest flash bulbs were German in origin and date back to 1929, using oxygen gas and a magnesium filament; the resulting reaction created a sufficiently bright light to illuminate a scene, but the intensity would also mean flash bulbs were single-use.

  • In the short five-minute runtime, the Luminous Witches PV has a more laid-back feel compared to the more serious moments of combat. Magic Squadron doesn’t actively participate in combat, and I did initially wonder about the feasibility of leaving an entire squadron of Witches to act as musicians and singers in a war where humanity would presumably require all active Witches to be at its most effective. Having said this, Strike Witches has been pushing to convey the idea that there is no small role in war, and much as how there are no small roles in performing arts, Luminous Witches is likely to be a story about preserving hope.

  • I believe that Luminous Witches will focus on Virginia as the protagonist: hailing from Britannia, same as Lynette, Virginia is Magic Squadron’s composer, being responsible for arranging both vocal and instrumental music for their songs. Her best friend is Shibuya, who comes from Fuso and bears many similarities to Lynette (both in manner and appearance). While a five-minute PV does not fully show everyone’s attributes, even in this short runtime, one has a reasonable idea of everyone’s traits: Eleonore is a Gallian Witch who is very frank about things, Aila acts as an older sister for the others, and Manaia is like Francesca, being energetic and excitable. Maria, being from Karlsland, is rigid and disciplined, similar to Gertrude and Minna.

  • Mid-session, Joanna finally shows up; it turns out she’d been in the middle of an art project of sorts, and is covered in paint. Coming from Liberion, Joanna designed the logos for everyone in Magic Squadron, and she’s the same age as Francesca. One thing that I noticed in Luminous Witches‘ PV was the prevalence of every Witch’s familiar: these small, supernatural animals are often paired with a Witch to act as an attendant of sorts. Strike Witches and Brave Witches completely dispensed with these elements, preferring to focus on the Witches themselves. If Luminous Witches continues to depict familiars as the PV did, it could be a first for the series.

  • After a transformation sequence rivalling those of a magical girls anime, Magic Squadron is finally ready for a group photo. Their stage outfits are quite nice, striking a balance between the Witches’ military backgrounds and possessing the glitz that is most associated with idols. While I possess a reputation indicating a propensity for any anime with the moé aesthetic, I’m admittedly not particularly versed in idol anime: shows like Idolm@ster and Love Live! are probably the first that come to mind, dealing with the daily lives, triumphs and tribulations of those involved in the entertainment industry.

  • The only idol anime I’ve ever really gotten into was Wake Up, Girls!, which I picked up out of curiosity and became very into for the story it told. I do have Love Live: School Idol Project on my to-watch list, but after how busy February was, I intend to spend the remainder of March tending to the things I’ve left alone. It was around here that Virginia’s role as Luminous Witches‘ central character became clear: she’s stands at the centre of the photo, and she was also the first character viewers see in the PV.

  • An accident causes everyone’s familiars to suddenly reappear, spoiling the group photo and bringing the PV to an end. While the animation and artwork quality in the PV are not to the same level as what I’m accustomed to in Strike Witches or Brave Witches, it does a satisfactory job of giving an idea of what Luminous Witches will feel like. While there’s no airing date for this series yet, I am rather looking forwards to checking out a completely different side to the Strike Witches universe.

Luminous Witches will detail a completely different side of the Human-Neuroi War; up until now, we had largely followed the adventures of the Witches who’ve made a considerable difference at the front lines. However, the other aspects of the Strike Witches universe have not always been fully explored – Luminous Witches presents a chance to portray other parts of a world that viewers rarely get to see. The focus on a more light-hearted, musical side of the Strike Witches universe (without venturing into the realm of an open parody like the Take Off! series) could offer insight into the importance of support: while it is often the case that we only see the faces of those on the frontlines as the heroes, the reality is that all accomplishments were the consequence of a team effort. The Apollo 11 mission, for instance, was backed by no fewer than four hundred thousand scientists, engineers, technicians and support staff that made Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin’s historic lunar landing successful. As such, to see the Music Squadron in action in Luminous Witches will represent an enjoyable change of pace, bringing idol music into the world of Strike Witches. I know a few folks who will be quite enthusiastic about Luminous Witches, as it combines the idol and military-moé genres. Given the extent of world building in Strike Witches, I imagine that Luminous Witches will be something that I’ll find enjoyable, as well.

Masterpiece Anime Showcase: Tari Tari, The Sound of Compassion, Supporting Aspirations Through Music and A Graduate’s Swan Song

“But for me, just having fun wasn’t enough. The support of my friends was equally important; they encouraged me through my struggles. They’re all so different from me, but they’re honest and determined. We fought, but we also worked together. I know you had a friend like that, too. Someone to have fun with, someone to share her worries. Mom, I have finished the song we promised to write. Sorry it took so long. I’m glad I could create this song with you and my friends. I’ll treasure it always for bringing us together.” –Wakana Sakai

Wakana Sakai once aspired to be a musician, as her mother Mahiru, once was, but after Mahiru died, Wakana began distancing herself from music to dull the pain of her loss. Konatsu Miyamoto is an optimistic and cheerful girl with a great love for music, and seeks to redeem herself after an incident in her previous year that led to her being removed from the lineup of active singers. Sawa Okita holds aspirations to become a jockey in the future, despite her father’s wishes. Taichi Tanaka strives to be a professional badminton player, and Atsuhiro Maeda is a transfer student with a love of the sentai genre. Five disparate students, each with their own goals and troubles, are united when Konatsu seeks to form her own choral club, with the aim of being able to sing again and do something big before graduation. Brought together by music to form the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club, these individuals come to learn about one another, their strengths and weaknesses, and come to support one another on their goals while working hard to put on a performance ahead of their school’s closure. This is Tari Tari, an anime from P.A. Works dating back to 2012 that portrays the life of five high school students who are on the edge of one milestone as they prepare to finish their final year of high school. Through its thirteen episode run, Tari Tari demonstrates the power of music to bring people together, to motivate and encourage one another; each of Wakana, Konatsu, Sawa, Taichi and Atsuhiro each have their own aspirations, but unified by music, realise an opportunity to contribute back to their school and put on a performance that allows them to properly express thanks to those around them. When it is revealed their school is to close, Konatsu’s initial determination to sing again transforms into a performance that represent a swansong of gratitude and appreciation for the teachers and students, as well. The road to this performance also helps each of the club’s members in a tangible way: Wakana opens up to the others and comes to peace with her mother’s passing, Sawa places more trust in her friends and allow them to support her ambition to become a jockey, Taichi continues pushing forwards on his dream of playing badminton professionally, and Atsuhiro does his best to help everyone. With Sawa, Taichi and Atsuhiro’s support, as well as Wakana’s experience, the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club are able to send their graduating year off in style, creating a cherished memory that marks the end of one journey and the beginning of the next.

With its focus on music, Tari Tari‘s central theme speaks to the power of music, and how it is able to motivate, inspire and encourage people from different backgrounds, experiences and creed, bringing them together for a common purpose. At scale, Tari Tari‘s theme is a positive one: that music transcends cultural, linguistic and ethnographic boundaries, being able to convey emotions that are universally understood. Through music, a diverse group of individuals gather together, and working towards a shared goal of doing one final swan song before graduation, also come to find camaraderie and support in one another. Sawa comes to voice her worries about the road to being a jockey instead of keeping it to herself, and the girls encourage Taichi to do his best in badminton. Konatsu comes to understand why Wakana approaches music with a serious mindset, but Wakana herself opens up to the others, realising that her mother’s vision of music was something to be shared. Tari Tari‘s single greatest strength therefore lies in its ability to bring in people from different walks of life, set them with a common objective that unifies them, and create something compelling: the series could’ve easily been about any one of Wakana, Sawa, Konatsu, Taichi or Atsuhiro and comfortably occupied a full thirteen episodes for each arc had everyone faced down their problems independently, but together, with support from one another, solutions are reached more swiftly. Tari Tari excels at tying together so many different elements because it is able to show how music impacts everyone, and ultimately, how music is something that sets in motion the events that bring people together and set them on a trajectory towards their futures. The use of a simple, yet powerful theme allows Tari Tari to cover everyone’s stories in a compelling and satisfactory manner, resulting in an anime that is earnest and sincere in its messages.

Taken together with P.A. Works’ visually impressive presentation, a phenomenal soundtrack and strong voice acting, Tari Tari quickly became a favourite of mine: the sum of its meaningful themes and a technically excellent audio and visual component made it an anime I looked forwards to every week. Tari Tari seamlessly transitions between each of Konatsu, Wakana, Sawa, Taichi and Atsuhiro’s stories, weaving them together in a concise and focused manner. While this could’ve ended up meandering, unfocused, Tari Tari ended up captivating me. During its run, I became invested in the characters and rooted for their success. Every episode left me in anticipation of what would happen next, and this ultimately ended up being an asset of immeasurable value: that summer, I had been studying for the MCAT, and it was an immensely stressful experience. By July, I had concluded CLANNAD and ~After Story~, and Tari Tari ended up being the show that filled in the void. By giving me something to look forwards to each week, Tari Tari helped me relax: the series had had just reached the halfway point, when Wakana becomes consumed with remorse at having okayed her father to dispose of their piano, which meant discarding the one remaining link she had with her mother. However, Wakana’s father explains that her mother had decided to keep quiet about her illness so their final memory of songwriting together would be a happy one. He reveals that he still has her old music, and never threw the piano away. Wakana realises an opportunity to finish something she had started with her mother, and her love of music is rekindled. She agrees to help Konatsu and the others, marking a turning point in Tari Tari when it is shown that support can come from anywhere. This was an encouraging course of events: I thus resolved to survive the MCAT so that I could see Wakana’s journey continue. When the MCAT concluded, Tari Tari delved into Sawa’s story, and by this point in my summer, I had the remainder of the month to myself. Watching Sawa overcome her problems, and Atsuhiro taking the lead in a local performance for the shopping district motivated me to pick up the journal publication that my lab had shelved amidst the academic term. I dusted the project off and coordinated with a few of my colleagues into helping us finish. My supervisor was pleasantly surprised the paper was revived, and agreed to proof-read it. By the end of the summer, we had a submission-ready publication, and the journal accepted it, leading this to be my first-ever journal article. For having helped give me the resolve and strength to stare down the MCAT in the days leading up to the exam and ultimately leading me to see a journal publication through to the end, Tari Tari had a nontrivial impact on me, that, in conjunction with everything that the series excels at doing, results in my counting Tari Tari to be a masterpiece.

Screenshots and Commentary

  • Tari Tari began airing early in July 2012, a time when I had just wrapped up my summer course on physics and could afford to focus my entire effort into reviewing for the MCAT. I had been curious to check out Tari Tari after watching one of the trailers, which played an instrumental version of Melody of the Heart, the series’ main theme. The song had a warm, inviting sound, and my curiosity was piqued. At the time, no one knew what Tari Tari would be about: the preamble only indicated that it would be about a group of students looking to do something big for their final year of high school.

  • After the first episode aired, I was thoroughly impressed: out of the gates, Tari Tari introduced all of its main characters and gave viewers a solid idea of their personalities entering the series. Because Tari Tari deals with transitions from one part of life into the next, viewers are dropped into a bit of a chaotic time in the story: Konatsu and Sawa’s homeroom instructor, Tomoko Takahashi, is set to go on maternity leave, and everyone is wishing her the best.

  • However, this also happens to be the day that Atsuhiro transfers into their class. Tomoko tasks Taichi to look after him and give him a tour of campus. Tari Tari covers a lot of ground during a very short time, and the first episode also establishes that Konatsu is intent on having a singing role in the choral club after an accident the previous year causes her to be removed from singing. For Konatsu, singing is a form of expression and represents liberty: her love of singing comes from a childhood admiration of the Condor Queens, a band known for their Spanish performances, and when her appeal to music instructor Naoko Takakura fails, she resolves to start her own club.

  • Wakana starts out her journey cold and detached, removed from the others. Serious and dedicated, she sports a no-nonsense personality; when Konatsu approaches her to start a new choral club, Wakana rebukes her, remarking that music isn’t a game. However, Konatsu’s opinion of music, that it’s more than just an art form to perfect, does cause Wakana to pause for a moment – Mahiru had a similarly optimistic and cheerful outlook on music, seeing it as something that could bring people together and otherwise convey intangible concepts.

  • Tari Tari is full of nuance: the first few episodes have both Wakana and Naoko as being unsympathetic to Konatsu’s desire to perform. While it is not immediately apparent, Wakana and Naoko have their own reasons for having such a rigid mindset on music: subtle details such as these really give life to the characters of Tari Tari, and as more about everyone is shown, viewers come to empathise with what they’re going through. When Wakana reluctantly agree to be the pianist for Sawa and Konatsu during their first concert, a hint of her true personality is shown – underneath her stoic personality is someone with the same warmth and kindness as Mahiru.

  • P.A. Works’ series are not known for their fanservice components, so it was a bit of a surprise to see Taichi’s older sister chilling in his room when Atsuhiro arrives at his place. My history with Tari Tari is a bit of an interesting one: I followed it weekly when it was airing, and then wrote a brief piece about it at my old website. Two years later, I returned to write about it again as I transitioned away from my old site to the current blog. Reading through my old review led me to rewatch Tari Tari, and on this third revisit, I found that Tari Tari, besides being excellent from a story and technical point of view, also did two important things: it contributed to me getting through a trickier time and also influenced some of P.A. Works’ later works to a nontrivial extent.

  • Tari Tari‘s soundtrack is composed by Shirō Hamaguchi, who had previously worked on the music to Ah! My GoddessGirls und PanzerHanasaku IrohaHaruchika and The Magnificent Kotobuki. Of these, Ah! My Goddess stands out: while the 2004 TV series had more ordinary music, his work on the 2000 film resulted in a soundtrack of sublime quality, and in Girls und Panzer, the superb range of music, from militaristic combat themes to the everyday slice of life pieces and marching songs, really highlights how versatile Hamaguchi is. It is therefore unsurprising that the music of Tari Tari is of such a high standard.

  • Tari Tari marks the first time I’d seen a series breaking so many established conventions: in most anime, a club on the brink of dissolution would receive its members in the first few episodes, and then spend the remainder of the series exploring their chosen specialisation. In Tari Tari, Konatsu managed to assemble an entire choir and performs, but loses these members almost immediately, forcing her to seek creative means of keeping her club together. She eventually builds the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club in the aftermath, unfairly defeating Taichi and Atsuhiro in a three-on-two badminton match that certainly wouldn’t be regulation. Tari Tari also pioneered the idea of a club being able to have more than one focus to keep enough members to stay afloat, something that would be revisited in Iroduku and Koisuru Asteroid.

  • With the benefit of hindsight, it is easy to see why Naoko is so adamant that Konatsu not form the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club; after Konatsu finds Mahiru’s old song, Melody of the Heart, Naoko acts out of respect for Mahiru’s memory, feeling Konatsu to be desecrating things. However, as Wakana begins to open up, Naoko realises that Wakana desires to carry on in her mother’s footsteps. The principal is able to spot this earlier on, and when Konatsu appeals to him directly, he allows their club to carry on, knowing what it means to Wakana, as well.

  • A secondary theme in Tari Tari is that small groups of devoted, dedicated people are capable of achieving great things together. Despite having lost all of their previous members who had musical background, the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club’s remaining members are committed despite not possessing the same level of training and skill. That Sawa and Konatsu were able to perform earlier on hinted at this, and so, it is with five members that the club moves ahead with its activities, although at this point, Wakana is still only a member in name, being occupied with her own challenges.

  • Konatsu decides to sign the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club up for a local music festival, but when the Condor Queens show up, she begins wavering. This causes a rift between Sawa and Konatsu, but the two reconcile after Wakana helps the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club to secure a stage. In the end, despite performing only for three children and their parents, the club still manages to put on a decent showing that impresses their audience. It is from humble beginnings that the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club start from, but their tenacity and determination to be more is what drives Tari Tari. Along this journey, past hurts are healed and dreams are realised.

  • Tari Tari is one of those anime that I could have written about in an episodic fashion, since each and every episode has so much worth talking about, and I actually had considered revisiting the anime episode by episode, pointing out all of the bits of foreshadowing and each episode’s contributions to the series. In Tari Tari, each and every detail is relevant to the big picture. However, it became clear that, while Tari Tari deserved an episodic review, my schedule wouldn’t allow for it, so I’ve chosen to instead talk about it at a much higher level.

  • At the local badminton tournament, Taichi is unable to advance, but despite his disappointment, he vows to work harder. It is here that Taichi begins developing a crush on Sawa; she starts the party by trying to connect with him and shares more about her interest in being a jockey, which in turn drives Taichi’s desire to know more about her. A ways back, I wrote a post on why the feelings were mutual: besides the body language in the scene, it is Sawa, and not Konatsu, who decides to go back and see how Taichi is doing after his loss. Sawa’s also got a bit more of a playful side to her, buying Konatsu a hot drink on a hot day.

  • Wakana’s relationship with her mother had not been the best in recent years, and her biggest regret is not being more understanding prior to Mahiru’s death. Seeing the old piano brings back memories of this pain and guilt, which is why she initially wanted to get rid of it. The episode is characterised by an incoming typhoon, which casts the whole of Enoshima in a moody, grim light, mirroring Wakana’s feelings. However, the next morning, the storm has gone, and Wakana’s developed cold. Seeing a despondent Wakana leads Konatsu to believe the worst, and she falls into a tide pool when attempting to “save” Wakana.

  • For Wakana, talking it out is how she comes to terms with what had happened: hearing the impact Mahiru had on those around her, whether it be Shiho (Sawa’s mother) or the Condor Queens helps Wakana to appreciate the carefree and spirited attitude. Being able to listen to Shiho and the Condor Queens share their stories really makes Mahiru’s contributions tangible, far more than listening to old recordings and reading letters alone could accomplish. The sum of these memories, in conjunction with a conversation with her father, finally allows Wakana to accept what happened, and also turn over a new leaf, to fulfil her promise to Mahiru and write a song together.

  • In a few weeks, the leaves will start turning yellow as summer fully gives way to autumn. Throughout Tari Tari, Mahiru is presented as being warm, spirited and understanding. She touched countless people with her carefree and accepting beliefs on music, believing the first and foremost aspect was to have fun. This belied an incredible talent and skill in composition, and Wakana initially did not understand this about Mahiru. The flashbacks in Tari Tari, in conjunction with frequent mention of Mahiru’s impact, shows that she’s left a lasting legacy, and even though she might be gone, Wakana will always have the happy memories to guide and inspire her.

  • With the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club’s activities in full-swing now that Wakana is on board, Konatsu sets about trying to determine what their presentation for the culture festival will be. However, the other choral club members doubt Konatsu, and moreover, Naoko will need to okay any use of the main stage. In spite of this, Wakana decides to press forward, studying composition to see how to best finish her mother’s song, which she plans on using for the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club’s performance. Here, the reflection of the room’s windows can be seen on the whiteboard: Tari Tari makes extensive use of reflective surfaces to create a well-lit feeling in its environments.

  • Once Wakana’s story is concluded, Tari Tari switches over to Sawa: Konatsu and Taichi’s stories were a bit shorter, but Sawa’s story is a bit more fully-fleshed. It turns out that her aspiration to become a jockey is met with opposition: her father disapproves, and moreover, Sawa’s physique does not appear to be suited for the occupation. She begins an aggressive diet in a bid to lose weight and make the requirements, but this results in fatigue and lethargy. After falling off her horse during archery practise from fatigue and lack of food energy, Sawa is taken to the local hospital to be examined for any injuries, and her father implores her to stand down.

  • Like Wakana, Sawa feels that her problems are hers alone to bear, that no one else would understand what she’s going through, and for this, her mannerisms take a noticeable shift: Tari Tari had presented Sawa as outgoing and playful, so to see a dramatic change was to show how heavily the future weighs on her mind. Sawa and Wakana’s stories are the top of Tari Tari, and the fact that they were so clearly presented indicates that even with a time constraint, shorter anime can still succeed in telling a compelling, full-fledged story that viewers can connect with.

  • While practising at Atsuhiro’s place, Sawa finally comes forwards with her troubles to the others. However, when Wakana suggests taking a step back to regroup, Sawa goes ballistic. She lashes out, suggesting that Wakana’s already got a background in music and that for her, it’s different. Indeed, Wakana’s love for music and Sawa’s determination to become a jockey are rooted by different motivations, but it does bring about one important point: the future is always uncertain, and the things people end up falling in love with doing might not always be what they’s sought out. When I revisited Tari Tari two years after the MCAT, my desire to go into medicine had been displaced by a newfound love for software development, for instance.

  • It’s easy to get caught up in the gravity of the moment, but Wakana’s suggestion was never to give up being a jockey, and instead, look at the problem from a different perspective. Sawa subsequently spends the remainder of the episode in poor spirits and takes a sick day, even as the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club sets off to prove their worth to Naoko, who reluctantly allows them to perform if they can make the audition. In order for the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club to stand a chance, they need Sawa, and ultimately, it is Wakana who takes the initiative to call her. Realising that she’s still needed, Sawa understands what Wakana and the others are doing for her, and immediately sets off for school on her horse, barely making it ahead of their slot.

  • In the aftermath, Sawa’s father sees the scope of her determination, and while still reluctant to allow her to pursue a career, realises that her daughter is hardworking and determined. He is later seen yelling at the admissions staff, saying he’ll personally curse them if they don’t relax the admission’s requirements for physique. It’s a rather touching moment that shows how, despite his outward appearance, Sawa’s father does care greatly for her. With Sawa’s story in the books, and the audition securing them a spot, Konatsu decides to go big on their performance for the culture festival, adding a play on top of their singing.

  • When the local shōtengai reports a decline in revenue from the previous year, Shiho suggests a radical new event: a live-action performance featuring sentai, the equivalent of Marvel or DC’s superheroes. This interpretation of superheroes has become iconic in Japan, and the Power Ranges are a particularly famous series. While outwardly different from something like the MCU sentai heroes fight in teams and strive to uphold justice the same way the Avengers do. Atsuhiro is very keen about this genre, seeing it as representative of the idea that good can prevail over evil, and the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club take on the job to help raise money for their performance.

  • Despite her experience with music, Wakana struggles with the composition of the song that Mahiru had left her. Shiho ends up pointing her in the right direction: Naoko had once studied music as well, being Mahiru’s classmate, and as such, should have some suggestions up her sleeve. Like Wakana, she is very unsympathetic to Konatsu’s attempts to run her own choral club because Mahiru’s death hit her hard. While viewers may find it difficult to accept Naoko’s character, Tari Tari does an excellent job of giving credence to why individuals act the way they do.

  • In Atsuhiro’s arc, he becomes distracted upon learning that all of the letters he’d written to Jan, a friend back home in Austria, were never delivered because he’d changed addresses. When the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club discover this, Atsuhiro comes into the open and, having now voiced his concerns, remarks that he’s confident Jan is going to be fine, and that he can also focus on his goals. Like Sawa, Wakana and Taichi, expressing his worries helps him to see an out. Owing to his love for sentai, Atsuhiro is the most enthusiastic and coaches the others in their roles.

  • The end result is an impressive performance, and when Atsuhiro stops a would-be thief with Taichi, Sawa, Wakana and Konatsu despite being physically outmatched, it really demonstrates the strength of his character. This was a fun arc in Tari Tari that gives viewers a better measure of Atsihiro’s character, and I remark here that while Konatsu and the others affectionately refer to Atsuhiro as “Wein” (after Austria’s capital, Vienna), I prefer calling Atsuhiro by his given name because this is the way to properly address the characters and furthermore, avoids confusion.

  • Once the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club secure the funds for their costumes and props, it’s full steam ahead as they prepare for the culture festival. Tari Tari has one final curveball to throw at them: it turns out their school is closing down because the area has been zoned for new development. The timing is such that it would cause the cancellation of the cultural festival, but Wakana ends up finishing her song, and she pushes to have their own festival anyways, since this song represents not just her, but the sum of the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club’s efforts, a product of self-discovery that each of Konatsu, Taichi, Sawa and Atsuhiro have experienced since they met.

  • During the preparations, Taichi and Sawa spend more time together, and Taichi eventually develops a crush on Sawa. This shouldn’t be terribly surprising, since Tari Tari had foreshadowed this early on: the two have been through quite a bit together as members of the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club, and when he’d failed to make the competition, Sawa had been the first to check up on him to make sure he was alright. Indeed, Taichi does attempt a kokuhaku at the series’ end, but the outcome of this is left ambiguous, and for fans of Tari Tari, this has been a bit of a sore spot, since viewers believed that Taichi and Sawa deserved a happy ending of sorts.

  • Despite being unsuccessful in convincing the student council to permit the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club to press on, Konatsu’s efforts are admirable, and she manages to convince the choral club to help her. Owing to an accident, the props that Atsuhiro had worked on are discarded. The club manages to recover them at the local landfill, and with Taichi’s help, the props and costumes inch their way to completion better than before. Meanwhile, Sawa heads off to try and enlist the shōtengai association’s help in gathering an audience.

  • While visiting Mahiru’s grave, Wakana runs into Naoko. It is here that the extent of Naoko’s friendship with Mahiru becomes apparent, and seeing Wakana finish Mahiru’s final composition convinces Naoko that Wakana is a worthy musician, someone who has the skill to continue bringing joy into the world through music. This was incredibly touching, and with her effort, Wakana demonstrates that the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club is worthy of her respect. On the day of the festival, Naoko fetches the wind instrument club and choral club to help with the performance.

  • While the principal has always been somewhat of a pushover when it came to the school’s future, he ultimately decides that sending the students off in style and leaving a positive memory matters more than a comfortable retirement bonus. He discards the developer’s proposal and allows the festival to be held. There is no time to lose as the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club press forwards with the preparations for their performance. The rainy weather gives way to sunshine, and ultimately, the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club’s performance is an unqualified success, capturing everyone’s feelings and thoughts regarding their journey and time together.

  • After lectures ended, I had spent most of the afternoon of the day before at the Telus SPARK Science Centre helping to get things set up, and the Friday night of six years ago was the opening night. Looking back, The Giant Walkthrough Brain would have been my Radiant Melody: after being tasked with testing the viability of the Unity Game Engine to provide a virtual visualisation of Jay Ingram’s show in May, I ended up taking the lead on the development of the software side of things, and over four months, I implemented, tested and improved the Giant Walkthrough Brain. Following a successful showing at the Banff Centre, the true test would come as the Giant Walkthrough Brain was presented for Beakerhead, a local science programme: I worried that at Telus SPARK, I would need to implement a different type of projection to create a 3D view for the geodesic dome.

  • Fortunately, we only needed standard projection, and having built the Unity project in a way to be extensible, I had no trouble with configuring it for the Beakerhead presentation requirements. The two performances for the Beakerhead Giant Walkthrough Brain were to sold-out crowds on both evenings and was a complete a success by all definitions. Watching the Beakerhead performance was every bit as rewarding and thrilling as seeing the culmination of Wakana, Konatsu, Sawa, Taichi and Atsuhiro’s final performance, a superb musical that combines drama with singing that acts as a swan song for both Tari Tari and the high school’s final graduating class. The weather transitions from a moody and rainy day shortly before the performance: the sunny breaks acts as a visual metaphor for the beginning of a new era, a well-lit one characterised by hope.

  • The Giant Walkthrough Brain came to represent what was possible with computer science, and set me down the path towards my graduate thesis project. Like the Choir-and-sometimes-Badminton Club’s successful magnum opus, I count the Giant Walkthrough Brain to be one of the things I’m most proud of having done in my youth, and for my contributions, The Giant Walkthrough Brain project would earn me an city-wide award for “exceptional extra-curricular contribution of computer science skills to the community”. These are the sorts of contributions I hope that all youth have a chance to make: using their skills to tangibly and positively impact their community: there is a skill component (it takes a bit of patience to learn a system like Unity), but it should be clear that the results are well worth it.

  • Tari Tari‘s use of light is meant to evoke the idea that as light reaches even the darkest, out of the way spots, it casts these places in warmth and gives them hope. Wide windows allow light to permeate the buildings, and similarly an honest, open dynamic amongst the characters allow them to support one another and find hope where it appears all is lost. It is therefore appropriate that Wakana and Naoko share their thoughts with one another beside a window as sunlight streams into the room: while the empty classroom creates a sense of melancholy, the warmth in the scene comes from Wakana and Naoko coming to terms with Mahiru’s death together: both Naoko and Wakana can depend on one another to cherish their memories of Mahiru and continue advancing music in her memory, as well as for their own futures.

  • In the end, everyone reaches their graduation and prepares to step into their own futures. Sawa’s already taken off to attend an equestrian school overseas, having been accepted into their program, but is granted a diploma anyways for having completed all of the requirements. As Tari Tari drew to a close, I entered my honours thesis year: seeing the sort of determination spurred my intentions to complete a journal publication during the summer, after the project had fallen by the wayside during term. For our troubles, we were accepted into the publication, and this accomplishment also helped one of my colleagues make the honours thesis programme. Their GPA had just missed the minimum requirements by a small faction, but having a publication proved to the department they were qualified for the work. With this and my supervisor vouching for them, they were reinstated.

  • This final year stands as my favourite undergraduate year, as we each worked on our own projects, supported one another and ultimately, defended our work the following April. I don’t think anyone in our year failed our thesis projects. For me, Tari Tari has many moments that are memorable, being attached to pivotal moments during my time as a student; this contributes to a bit of my bias as to why I found the anime so moving and enjoyable. Viewers have longed for a continuation, and while no sequel anime ever materialised, a special OVA set during the winter was released with a commemorative BD collection, and in 2018, a novel, Tari Tari ~Mebaitari Terashitari Yappari Tokidoki Utattari~ (Tari Tari ~Budding, Shining, and Sometimes Singing~) was announced.

  • This novel is set ten years after the anime’s events, and sees the characters reunite to help Yukine, a high school student who is still searching for her way. Unfortunately, I’ve not heard much at all about this project: the first chapter was originally published on August 1, 2018, and new chapters were supposed to be published bimonthly, but I’ve found nothing of the project as of yet. However, while we may not have the full story from the sequel, Tari Tari portrays Wakana walking along the same path she normally walks, sporting a longer hairstyle similar to Mahiru’s. She smiles warmly, bringing Tari Tari to a close and assuring viewers that, with everything she’s experienced, she’s in a much better place now and ready to seize the future.

Tari Tari is often overlooked where discussions of P.A. Works’ anime are concerned: this is, after all, the studio that has brought viewers the likes of Angel Beats!, Hanasaku Iroha, Nagi no Asukara and Shirobako, each of which are veritable masterpieces in their own right for excellence in capturing the viewer’s interest with their characters, setting and premise. However, Tari Tari‘s contributions to P.A. Works’ repertoire of productions cannot be understated. As the production following Hanasaku Iroha, Tari Tari inherits many elements from its predecessor, especially a cast of characters of different backgrounds that each share a common goal. However, whereas Hanasaku Iroha required a full twenty-six episodes to tell its story, Tari Tari managed to condense that experience down into half the runtime. The success in Tari Tari, then, was demonstrating that even with a reduced episode count, it was still possible to draw upon the elements that made Hanasaku Iroha so successful, and moreover, P.A. Works now had two series that were successful following a busier, more multi-faceted set of characters in a coming-of-age setting. Tari Tari‘s legacy is therefore understated; in addition to being an exceptional anime, Tari Tari confirmed that P.A. Works had a winning combination that could fit into a thirteen or twenty six episode format. confident that series with a large number of characters each working towards the same objective can captivate audiences, P.A. Works would go on to create outstanding experiences through Shirobako, Sakura Quest and Irodoku. Each of these series have proven to be immensely enjoyable in their own right, taking the concepts from Tari Tari and successfully applying them to different settings, from the anime production workplace, to a remote town and even a world with magic to create captivating series well worth one’s while.

Insights in Character Songs from Glasslip: A Refrain to Sachi Nagamiya (Kimi e to Refrain Lyrics)

“Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.” —Confucius

Released late in October, the Glasslip character song album, Utagoe no Kakera (Fragments of Singing Voice) featured performances from each of the characters in Glasslip; while Glasslip itself proved to be a disappointment on multiple fronts, from an inconsistent narrative to misleading symbols and unclear character goals, the anime’s audio and visual aspects were particularly strong. Glasslip‘s musical score served to project a particular atmosphere and mood where character dialogue and actions were inadequate; the soundtrack’s combination of classical pieces with incidental tracks work in conjunction to convey a sense of wistfulness and confusion that invariably accompanies love. As a character song album, none of the vocal tracks in Fragments of Singing Voice would have made it into Glasslip proper, but each song serves to do what the anime could not: they provide more insight into each of the characters and their personalities, beliefs and desires. Of the tracks on Fragments of Singing Voice, the one that stood out most was Sachi Nagamiya’s Kimi e to Refrain (君へとRefrain, “A Refrain To You”), performed by Risa Taneda. In contrast with Sachi’s characterisation as a quiet individual fond of books, Taneda’s delivery of Kimi e to Refrain is spirited, upbeat and sexy, giving another perspective of one of Glasslip‘s least explored characters. It is easily my favourite song on the Fragments of Singing Voice album, and curiosity led me to translate the lyrics, which yield a considerable amount of insight into Sachi’s character well beyond what viewers saw in Glasslip.

Japanese Lyrics

  • Whenever Kimi e to Refrain plays, I think about long summer days, endless blue skies and a sort of excitement associated with the prospects of a full day to myself. The rhythm and composition of this song also brings to mind the atmosphere surrounding high school as the weather warms. Curiosity about what this song entailed led me to talk to some of my friends, and with their help, we transcribed the lyrics and worked out what the song was about. It turns out that this is indeed a song evocative of summer, a season I feel to be most appropriate for discovering new love. Here’s a copy of the song for all interested readers’ listening enjoyment.

Kanji

​紡がれた言葉に閉じ込めた気持ちを
読み取るように今日もまた

行く当ても分からず心は旅に出る
いつかはたどり着くのかな
決めるのはいつだって自分なんだって
眩しさに歪む明日へと迷わずに行きたくて

変わらない笑顔とやだしさに包まれ
何かが変わって行く子に季節を越えて
抱えきれない思いのかけらキラキラ君へとリフレイン

不確かでもいい素直なままで心逸らさないで先へ

線香花火から落ちた赤い雫
熱く儚く弾けた

どうしても見つからない場所があった
君の名を呼ぶその度に吹き抜ける風がいた

些細なざわめきに心は揺れ動き
もどかしさを抱え理由を探してた
忘れたくないこの瞬間がいつか答えになるんだと
今は先へと進んでみよう君の隣で笑ってたい

見上げれば幾千の星のストーリー
約束の場所から明日へと迷わずに行けるから

変わらない笑顔とやだしさに包まれ
何かが変わってく子に季節を越えて
抱えきれない想いのかけらキラキラ君へとリフレイン

不確かでもいい素直なままで心逸らさないで先

君の (君の) 側で (側で)

Romaji

​Tsumugareta kotoba ni tojikometa kimochi wo
Yomitoku you ni kyou mo mata

Yukuate mo wakarazu kokoro wa tabi ni deru
Itsuka wa tadoritsuku no kana
Kimeru no wa itsudatte jibun nan datte
Mabushisa ni yugamu asu e to mayowazu ni yukitakute

Kawaranai egao to yasashisa ni tsutsumare
Nanika ga kawatte iku kono kisetsu wo koete
Kakaekirenai omoi no kakera kirakira kimi e to refrain

Futashika demo ii sunao na mama de kokoro sorasanai de saki e

Senkouhanabi kara ochita akai shizuku
Atsuku hakanaku hajiketa

Doushitemo mitsukaranai basho ga atta
Kimi no na wo yobu sono tabi ni fukinukeru kaze ga ita

Sasaina zawameki ni kokoro wa yure ugoki
Modokashisa wo kakae riyuu wo sagashiteta
Wasuretakunai kono shunkan ga itsuka kotae ni narundato
Ima wa saki e to susunde miyou kimi no tonari de warattetai

Miagereba ikusen no hoshi no story
Yakusoku no basho kara asu e to mayowazu ni yukeru kara

Kawaranai egao to yasashisa ni tsutsumare
Nanika ga kawatteku kono kisetsu wo koete
Kakaekirenai omoi no kakera kirakira kimi e to refrain

Futashika demo ii sunao na mama de kokoro sorasanai de saki e

Kimi no (kimi no) soba de (soba de)

English Translation

  • During the translation process, I’ve done my best to choose words that are able to flow with the rhythm of Kimi e to Refrain, and as I’m no songwriter, what we’ve got here is an approximation at best. While I’ve modified some of the phrasings and word order to make the lyrics sound more natural in English, I think that the meaning from the original Japanese lyrics are largely retained despite these changes. Doing this post has also led me to learn that the reason why Cantonese songs can be readily covered from Japanese is because Cantonese is mono-syllabic. Consider just how well Seiko Matsuda’s 大切なあなた (Romaji “Taisetsu na Anata“, “Important You”) is performed by Vivian Lai in the Cantonese equivalent, 陽光路上 (Jyutping “joeng4 gwong1 lou6 soeng5”, “Sunshine Road”).

​Feelings that were trapped in woven words
I’ll try to decipher them again today

My heart goes on a journey with no destination
I wonder if it’ll arrive someday
The one who decides that is always me
I want to enter without hesitation into a tomorrow distorted by the brilliance

Surrounded by an unchanging smile and kindness
Something starts to change beyond this season
An emotion I can’t contain, a sparkling refrain from you

Be straightforward, it’s fine if it’s uncertain, my heart won’t waver as it moves forward

Red sparks that fall from the sparkler
Burst with warmth fleetingly

A place I couldn’t find no matter what
There was a wind that blew whenever I called your name

A trivial rumour sways and moves my heart
Finding the reasons for my frustration and embracing it
I don’t want to forget, this moment will become the answer
I want to move forward, I want to laugh beside you

If we look up, there are thousands of stars with stories
We can move from the promised place to tomorrow without hesitation

Surrounded by an unchanging smile and kindness
Something starts to change beyond this season
An emotion I can’t contain, a sparkling refrain from you

Be straightforward, it’s fine if it’s uncertain, my heart won’t waver as it moves forward

By your (by your) side (side)

Kimi e to Refrain speaks of Sachi’s worldview: fond of reading and quiet environments, Sachi feels that she has troubles understanding how she feels about those around her. Tempted by her desire to move into the future but also being tempered by her doubts about the unknowns, Kimi e to Refrain juxtaposes these conflicting feelings, and the lyrics shows that Sachi is the sort of person who ultimately can move forwards as long as she is with someone to support her. In Glasslip, Sachi frequently leans on Tōko for emotional support until Tōko dissolved a promise where their group of friends would remain such. Subsequently, Hiro begins spending more time with Sachi, acting on his feelings. Kimi e to Refrain is seemingly ambiguous as to whether or not the person Sachi most wishes to spend her future with is Tōko or Hiro; the lyrics have a certain degree of romance to them. In the song, Sachi expresses that these feelings are as beautiful and transient as fireworks, and that as others have undoubtedly shared this experience previously, she’s willing to seize the moment and make the most of things. In describing the romantic and transient nature of her feelings, Sachi is likely referring to the moment in Glasslip‘s tenth episode when she expresses her feelings for Tōko and Hiro. Despite having long felt protective of Tōko and hating Kakeru for disrupting the status quo, Kakeru’s actions indirectly result in Hiro acting on his feelings for Sachi, beginning the start of a hitherto unexplored dynamic between the two.

  • It’s been quite some time since I’ve done anything related to Glasslip, and this post deals predominantly with Sachi. Folks continue to believe that Sachi and Tōko were more than friends, but after taking a look at Kimi e to Refrain, it becomes clear that while Sachi greatly treasures her friendship with Tōko, she is also willing to step into a world of uncertainties. Throughout Glasslip, Sachi’s propensity for few words means that her feelings aren’t always made known to viewers.

  • Quiet and studious, Sachi’s favourite pastime is reading – she spends her free time by the window with a book in hand. Her interests are the most similar to my own of anyone in the cast, and she’s my favourite of the characters in Glasslip. I recall a ways back, I did a thought experiment on what my ideal first date would look like – with Sachi, taking her to a bookstore would likely be a fantastic starting point. The larger bookstores from my part of the world usually are close to a coffee shop, and back during the summer, I fondly recall an afternoon where I spent an afternoon at the bookstore, browsing through their vast inventory, before sitting down for a caffè mocha.

  • I’ve not thought about it, but it looks like that doing this sort of thing constitutes as ‘taking myself on  a date’. Admittedly, it is fun to sip a caffè mocha and watch as the world proceeds with their business: when I think about it, a bookstore-coffee shop combination is actually not a bad place for a date. Of course, this is just me, and I imagine the odds of finding someone who shares this particular perspective will be a nontrivial task.

  • Sachi seems to be a bit more on the frail side: midway into Glasslip, she is admitted to hospital. Whatever other faults Glasslip may have had, the visuals within the anime were top-tier, matching those seen in Tari Tari. Whether it be the play of light in glass beads, warm colours of a summer afternoon or the details in the town, everything in Glasslip was stunning to behold; this is one of the reasons why I persisted through the anime.

  • I watched Glasslip the same summer that I watched GochiUsa, and speaking to her skill, it’s not immediately apparent that Rise Taneda voices Sachi, so different is her delivery of Sachi’s lines in Glasslip against her presentation of GochiUsa‘s Rize Tedeza. Most know Taneda best for her performance as Your Lie In April‘s Kaori Miyazono. However, in Kimi e to Refrain, Taneda’s singing voice is most similar to how she performs Rize’s character songs.

  • Over the course of Glasslip, Sachi and Hiro begin spending more time together, both during awkward moments where Hiro must escape before Tōko discovers what’s going on, and later, once things settle down, the two go on a few dates with one another. The pairing in Glasslip that left viewers with the strongest negative impression was Yanagi and Yukinari; Yukinari has feelings for Tōko, while Yanagi has feelings for Yukinari. She makes his feelings known to him, and while the two remain on cordial terms for the remainder of Glasslip after he turns her down, Yanagi takes up running herself and from my perspective, exudes a sense of melancholy despite doing her best to stay positive.

  • Glasslip wraps up at the end of summer vacation, with everyone returning to classes. Looking back, Glasslip is something that likely would have been more clear with its symbols and motifs had it a bit more time to flesh these elements out. Additional time would have also given opportunity to explore the growing closeness between Sachi and Hiro, while also showing how Yanagi and Yukinari move on in their own ways. However, given the overwhelmingly negative reception directed at Glasslip, reflected through the fact that Glasslip had the lowest BD sales of any PA Works anime, it is unlikely that Glasslip will receive any sort of continuation or expansion.

Because notions of journeys, heading into the future and moving forwards are so prominently mentioned in Sachi’s Kimi e to Refrain, the song strongly suggests that this person she wishes to rely on, to walk the future with, is Hiro. Things began changing under the fireworks for the pair, and rumours of a romance between Hiro and Sachi definitely circulate, which Kimi e to Refrain references; because Tōko’s friendship with Sachi is an older one, Kimi e to Refrain is not likely referring to her. Instead, it is these newfound feelings that prompts Sachi to want to seize the future with more confidence even as she hesitates, owing to her old friendship, and Kimi e to Refrain‘s final stanza suggest that the brilliance of these emotions that lead her to want to move on. Consequently, through Kimi e to Refrain, it becomes clear that Sachi is able to let go of her reliance on Tōko and wholeheartedly pursue her relationship with Hiro, whereas previously, she was struggling to understand how she felt about both Hiro and Tōko. This is evident in the progression of events in Glasslip, where Sachi begins spending more time with Hiro, pursing the future that she’s so uncertain about. While existing perspectives remain adamant that Sachi has feelings for Tōko, Kimi e to Refrain clears up one of the elements that Glasslip began exploring, and it is quite apparent that Glasslip could have succeeded in illustrating the turbulent nature of relationships as youth begin exploring them had the anime chosen to focus on these aspects sans any supernatural, Newtype-like phenomenon.