The Magic and Music Theory Behind Studio Ghibli Soundtracks
Everyone knows that Studio Ghibli films are amazing. If you don’t know that yet, then I will find you, sit you down, and force you to watch Spirited Away while I explain to you with my expert commentary, precisely why it’s so amazing. As a self-proclaimed Studio Ghibli superfan, I consider it my personal responsibility to convert as many people as I can to the Ghibli lifestyle. I could probably go on and on about Studio Ghibli movies and their unique and endearing nostalgia for eons. The world building, the storytelling, the art—that’s at least 20 pages of rambling right there. However, I am not a film writer. I’m a music writer, and the topic of rambling you’re here to read about is music—specifically, the music of Studio Ghibli, and how it works so well. After scraping by through several semesters of music theory and music history, I think I’m properly (read: barely) qualified to speak on this subject. (If one of my professors happens to read this essay, please consider it as proof that I did actually pay attention in class).
But before we get to the complicated theory and history behind the sweet melodies of Studio Ghibli, we should probably talk about the man who wrote them: Mamoru Fujisawa, better known by his professional name, Joe Hisaishi. Starting at age four, Hisaishi began learning violin and watching 300 movies a year with his father; his life seems to have been guided towards movies and music since the very beginning. With more than 100 film scores and solo albums, he is a well-known and prolific composer who has been associated with Studio Ghibli and animator Hayao Miyazaki since 1984. Hisaishi has composed the score for all of Miyazaki’s films except for one. He’s been called the John Williams of Japan—with Miyazaki as his Steven Spielberg.
Hisaishi’s early compositions in the 1970s were influenced by Japanese popular music, electronic music, and new-age music. In the 80s, he found overwhelming success composing film scores, with the 1986 film Laputa: Castle in the Sky as his first work under the Studio Ghibli name. This was two years after his first collaboration with Miyazaki for the film Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, which is considered to be a Ghibli film, though it was made before the studio was founded. Later, in the 90s, his reputation as a top composer in the anime industry grew. In 2001, he composed the music for the Ghibli film Spirited Away, with the opening theme “One Summer’s Day,” going on to become one of his most iconic and recognizable compositions. As of January 2021, it has over 7 million streams on Spotify. Besides his numerous accomplishments in film, Hisaishi also has several albums as a solo pianist.
Joe Hisaishi’s career as a composer has clearly been long and prosperous, but what is it exactly that makes his music sound so good? To start, Hisaishi’s Ghibli scores typically exhibit a feeling of unfinished wandering. From the Kiki’s Delivery Service soundtrack, “A Town with an Ocean View” features swirling strings and blurred section endings—each section winding into and on top of each other as a perpetuation of themes. “One Summer’s Day” has a simple, haunting melody which never seems to end, but is instead elaborated upon in grand orchestral variations. Rather than conforming his melodies to fit into a set form, Hisaishi favors wispy impressions of emotions—much like the impressionist composer Claude Debussy. Even if you’re not a fancy music scholar, you’ve probably heard Debussy before. Pieces like Clair de Lune and Reverie are popular for their evocative impressionist threads. Impressionism, which shares its name with the art movement of the same era in the 19th and 20th century, focused on conveying a mood or atmosphere through music. Joe Hisaishi’s film scores certainly fit the bill to be considered impressionistic works, with their enveloping atmospheric sounds. This emphasis on emotion is part of what makes Ghibli music so remarkably poignant. When paired with the story and art of the films for which these pieces are composed for, the mood is amplified.
Another commonality between the music of Hisaishi and Debussy is a lack of resolution. Debussy and other impressionist composers were exploring ideas outside of the rules and forms of music from composers like Beethoven and Mozart. Their music strayed away from the classical and romantic dictations for harmonies and resolutions. Without the harmonic regulations which motivated the music of earlier eras to create tension which would then release (think Beethoven’s 5th or even modern popular songs with chord progressions that build up tension and then release), impressionist music often sounds unfinished, or like it doesn’t go anywhere. In comparison with more form-focused music which follows a formula of tension and release, impressionist music feels more like a moment of suspended time. Instead of moving forward toward a definitive end, it flows and ripples. Hisiahi’s music does just that—it surges, sweeps, and rolls outside of an absolute shape and without a complete resolution. Much like water takes on the shape of its container, Hisaishi’s music takes on the shape of the emotions of the story it is created to tell.
The similarities between Debussy and Hisaishi can be found throughout each of their pieces—the use of pentatonic scales, extended harmonies, and parallel motion. (A pentatonic scale is a scale with only five notes per octave; extended harmonies are chords or triads with extra notes on top to sound fancy; parallel motion happens when two voices or melodic lines move in the same direction by the same interval. It’s okay if none of that was decipherable. I still don’t really get it either, but I still passed my classes. This essay will still make sense if all of that sounds like gibberish to you). As well as Debussy, Hisaishi’s music can also be compared to modal jazz, which has similar pentatonic sounds and a lack of harmonic motion.
That’s about where the similarities end. After that, we have to start learning about ancient Chinese history. A really great video to watch that goes into depth about this is “Why Miyazaki’s Films Sound Pretty” on the YouTube channel Sideways. For now, I’ll summarize what the video says; after you’re done reading this, you can go watch it. (The video also talks more about Debussy and Hisaishi, so really, you could just watch the video and not read this at all. I would prefer if you stuck around and kept reading though).
Starting in the 7th to 10th centuries during the Tang Dynasty, Japan began adopting Chinese scales and ideas of music theory. Musicologists have been able to figure out that the Japanese musicians of the ancient eras weren’t using 7-note scales spanning an octave the way we do today in the west (like do-re-mi, etc). They were using small groups of three notes, which all started and ended on the same note, but had a different note in the middle. To get an octave, you’d put two of these groups together. By western standards of music theory, these wouldn’t really be called pentatonic scales, like the scales Debussy used.
Now this is where World War II comes into play. After the war, Japan took on a lot of aspects of American culture: baseball, marching bands, KFC, etc. In response, there were also efforts to preserve Japanese culture. The result was a unique hybrid of Western and Japanese ideas of music, like enka, a musical style which resembled traditional Japanese folk music but also utilized Western fundamentals of harmony.
Okay, now that we’ve had a little bit of the historical background, it’s time to circle back to Studio Ghibli. The pentatonic (well, sort of pentatonic) scales of traditional Japanese music, namely the styles of gagaku: the music they played in fancy imperial court, and shomyo: a uniquely Japanese form of Buddhist chant, can be heard in Hisaishi’s music. And the hybridization of Western and Japanese culture which followed World War II is emblematic of the duality of Eastern and Western influences within Studio Ghibli soundtracks. Debussy and Hisaishi share similarities, but ultimately, Hisaishi’s music sounds different from Debussy because of his background and cultural influences. This is also what makes Ghibli music distinctive among soundtracks in Western movies. Influences of Western music like impressionism, European orchestral instrumentations, and harmonies, are combined with Eastern ideas of theory and melody. Joe Hisaishi expertly synthesizes the East-West musical dichotomy into one unified creation, which produces soundtracks that incorporate all of the different influences we’ve talked about.
All of that theory and history is what makes these soundtracks sound so pretty, but listening to them on their own doesn’t do their power justice. The defining aspect of this music is its use in the Studio Ghibli films to aid in the immersive realism of otherwise fantastical stories. “One Summer’s Day” is so well-liked not only for its heartfelt and nostalgic sound, but also for the way it brings you into the story of Chihiro and her journey to turn her parents from pigs back into people. It’s a strange plot, with dragons and bathhouses and giant babies, but the music evokes more common emotions and atmospheres, like the memory of being a kid on a hot summer day. This connection between fantasy and real life is what pulls you in and allows the suspension of disbelief, making Studio Ghibli films so effervescent.
Studio Ghibli soundtracks are empathetic of the characters whose stories they tell. They are nostalgic and childlike, yet are not lacking in depth. Joe Hisaishi is not only a composer, but a storyteller. Music theory plays a part in what makes his music so magical, and ultimately his soundtracks are so great because he is really, really good at conveying emotions and atmosphere through music. When you listen to “Merry-Go-Round of Life” from Howl’s Moving Castle, you’re transported to a different world where wizards live in walking castles and princes turn into turnips, but at the same time, reminded of real-world orchestral waltzes that you could probably hear in a local concert. When you put on “The Legend of Ashitaka” from Princess Mononoke, you are immersed into the intricate historical fantasy of a prince who fights forest gods and greedy humans through serene flute melodies and earthy folklore-esque vocals, which sound unmistakably Japanese, paired with the depth of orchestral arrangements from a more Western persuasion.
In conclusion, Joe Hisaishi’s music is a harmonious marriage of differences. East and West, and fantasy and reality. Instead of aiming for a resolution, his pieces dwell on emotions and create tone paintings which give impressions of atmospheres. Just like the ending of Spirited Away seems almost unsatisfactory in its open-endedness, and the plots of Ghibli films often wander away from the usual path of other movies, the unfinished feel of his soundtracks leave room for the listener to insert themselves and their own emotions and experiences. Basically, Joe Hisaishi is brilliant and amazing, and you should go watch a Ghibli movie now.