Akari Komura

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The artist standing in front of a big tree, looking up at the sky

My name is Akari Komura (she/her).

I am originally from Tokyo, Japan.

I like thinking, writing, and imagining

our sonic environment.

I am interested in composing scores

that are invitational and sensorial.

I am interested in curating a performance space

for contemplative listening and soundmaking.

I am currently based in California studying Ph.D. in music composition at UC San Diego.

no.233
gather a cup of sunlight with a mirror
pour it into a sunless afternoon
listen to silence radiate
一杯の陽光を鏡で集める それを太陽のない部屋に注ぐ
静寂が光るのを聴く
@akarikomura
2026 June
#eventscore #deeplistening

no.232: for solo cello (or any instrument/s)
drill into silence for 3’
be still for 2’
be small for 1’
be a hill for 3’10”
be a bell for 50”
@akarikomura
2026 June
#eventscore #fluxus #collage

no.231
minutely;
i) like keeping the letters you receive in a box
ii) like sharing a box of chocolates
iii) like a matchbox
iv) like boxing and unboxing a thought
v) like a childhood lunch box

blue/bloom/root/womb
@akarikomura
2026 June

no.230
air
hair
wind
window
@akarikomura
2026 June

no.229 like winds landing on sky, not knowing gravity
@akarikomura
2026 June

no.228
for silence threaded with the scent of rosemary and airy sunrise/
silence threaded with breathlessness
@akarikomura
2026 May

no.227
the sound
of a pencil tracing the map of your hometown
the sound
of climbing the stairs at a station
the sound
of swimming across a river
the sound
of dancing in a dream
the sound
of a bird diving into the ocean

the sound
of distance —
of the moon,
of resistance,
of the Earth’s surface.
@akarikomura
2026 May

no.226
a sound dove into silence.
silence danced with a sound.
silence traced the dawn.
silence swam with a swan.
a sound climbed out of silence.
@akarikomura
2026 May

no.225
tremolo
1)like patches of sunlight
2)like a sudden breeze
3)like a conversation between two people;
A: “I feel like there are more trees planted around here?”
B: “Maybe they just grew.”

@akarikomura
2026 April

no.224
listen to a piece of land sowed with
sounds
of the dust of the buzz
of the bees of the dirt
of the soil on a Friday
at noon.

drum the earth.
unearth a pulse.
dream with your ears?

@akarikomura
2026 April

no.223
[dreaming quietly]
[standing quietly]
[falling quietly]
[singing quietly]
[dancing quietly]

@akarikomura
2026 March

no.222
listen
方角を
to a wind
知らない
that knows
風を
no directions
聴く

listen to
生き物を知らない
to a land
陸を
that knows no creatures
聴く

listen
ボタンを縫う
to your hands
あなたの手を
that sew a button
聴く

listen with
かもめを
your eyes
見た
that saw
あなたの目
a seagull
で聴く

listen
じぶんのからだを
with your body that
しるじぶんのからだで
knows your body
きく

@akarikomura
2026 March

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