──At what age did you first encounter the flute?

Ueno　I was 8 years old when I first heard Mozart’s Flute Concerto at a concert my mother took me to. It was held at Takamatsu Shimin Kaikan civic hall, a historic venue in Kagawa Prefecture. The impact of that experience is something I still remember vividly; I can recall exactly where I was seated, the angle from which I listened—everything. That was the moment I fell in love with the flute, and the scene is etched in my mind.
Since my mother ran a piano studio, I had been learning piano since the age of 2, but for some reason, the flute captivated me far more. I immediately told my parents I wanted to play the flute, but they were reluctant to let me start. To prove I was serious, I went to great lengths: waking up early every morning to fetch the newspaper, circling any articles about the flute in red pen, recording any TV programs featuring the flute and playing them at high volume, even making a “flute savings jar” and asking my grandparents to contribute each time I visited (laughs). I kept this up for two years.

──That’s incredible dedication! So, you were finally able to start playing two years later?

Ueno　Yes, at age 10, my parents finally recognized that I was serious and let me begin lessons. When we started looking for a teacher, we found that Kagawa Prefecture has a relatively thriving arts scene, and I soon met an excellent teacher. Looking back, I’d say that teacher gave me my foundation, teaching me something very important. For example, if I was playing Yuyake Koyake, the teacher’s say, “Let’s start by appreciating how beautiful a sunset is.” The teacher’s approach was to nurture a heart that feels and a desire to express, believing that technical skills could come later. Since my mother often sang to me as a child, starting with familiar nursery songs was an easy transition. I loved the flute so much that I would keep playing until someone finally told me to stop practicing.

──After that, you went on to the Tokyo University of the Arts’ affiliated high school and university.

Ueno　From the moment I heard Mozart’s concerto at age 8, I decided, “I’m going to be like that!” So, I started researching how to achieve that goal by reading magazines specializing in flute. I figured that if I went to the Tokyo University of the Arts, I could make it happen. With that in mind, I set my sights on the entrance exams, studied hard, and moved to Tokyo for high school.

──You were living alone at 15!

Ueno　Yes, I moved to Tokyo, but I quickly realized I was surrounded by incredibly skilled people, so I started off feeling defeated. While Takamatsu had nurtured my artistic sense, I was still lacking in technical skills. I began entering competitions in high school, but at the time, my desire to “express myself” was so intense that it kept me from achieving results. I received a lot of feedback like, “Your pitch is off,” or “Your technique needs work,” and I remember thinking, “If they’re going to be so focused on technique, they might as well call it a ‘Technique Competition’!” Just a bit of youthful frustration (laughs). I knew that wouldn’t get me anywhere, so I slowly worked my way through, figuring things out and developing my technique step by step. Eventually, I reached a level where I could finally perform properly. I think everyone who knew me back then would say, “She really went through a lot.”

──Despite that, you steadily strengthened both your technical skills and expressive power, winning the Music Competition of Japan, the Tokyo Music Competition, and the Japan Woodwind Competition during your university years. What does participating in competitions mean to you?

Ueno　I saw competitions as merely stepping stones on the path to becoming a professional flutist, so I never viewed winning as the ultimate goal. Rather, competitions were something I worked hard at in order to reach the starting line.
The benefit of winning is that it provides many opportunities to perform in concerts as a prize. It allows more people to hear my music, and I receive more invitations to perform. For a musician, experience is everything. What matters most is how many quality performances you can build up over time.
In that sense, the Tokyo Music Competition nurtured me tremendously even after I won first place. One great thing about this competition is that it’s held as a “Woodwind Section” rather than just a “Flute Section.” This means that teachers of other woodwind instruments and even composers participate as judges, allowing them to evaluate not only flute-specific skills but also the musicality of each performance. When I participated, Akira Miyoshi, the composer, was also on the panel.
Actually, I entered twice—the first time, I placed second. My decision to compete again wasn’t driven by a desire to win first place. Rather, it was a sincere wish for more people to hear my music and to receive feedback on a different piece. In the end, I won the second time, but I believe that the highest recognition comes when I immerse myself in the piece, truly confronting the intentions of the composer. Ironically, when I think, “I need to win this!” it rarely leads to great results.
At that time, the Tokyo Music Competition didn’t have an “Audience Award,” but I was thrilled to receive it in both the Music Competition of Japan and the Japan Woodwind Competition. After all, “conveying music to others” is truly the purpose of my life.

──You have now transitioned from being evaluated to serving as a judge. What mindset do you bring to your role as a competition juror?

Ueno　I evaluate the expressiveness that conveys the charm of the piece to the audience. I also consider the potential and future prospects of the performer. While I listen with the understanding that technical skills, which I struggled with myself, are a prerequisite, what I prioritize most is whether the performer stays true to the style of the piece and has thoroughly studied it. Particularly, many musicians struggle with their sense of harmony, which is one of the three essential elements of music—rhythm, melody, and harmony. Since the flute is a melodic instrument, it’s easy to focus solely on the melody. However, I believe the composer’s important message is entrusted to the harmony. The nuances of harmony are key points that lead to a deeper understanding of the piece’s style, so they are very important.

──You give lessons at the Senzoku Gakuen College of Music and privately. What kind of instruction do you provide to help your students develop a sense of ‘harmony’?

Ueno　Even when playing the same “A” note, I want my students to clearly understand which harmony it belongs to—whether it’s F-A-C, A-C-E, or A-D-F. To convey this, I play the piano part during lessons. Focusing solely on the melody is not enough; I often emphasize the importance of keeping the bass line firmly in mind. People often say, “There are no ‘answers’ in performance,” but just as language has fundamental grammar, music also has essential ways of expression—certain answers that must be acknowledged. If these fundamentals aren’t grasped, the performance won’t effectively communicate to others. For example, while Picasso may seem to express himself freely, he can convey meaning precisely because he has mastered the basics of painting and can create realistic representations. Music has its foundational methods, too, and I want to nurture my students so they can perform in line with the piece. I strive for that in my own work as well.
Education isn’t something you can do halfway, and I believe it shouldn’t be approached that way. However, I want to give back what I’ve gained from my own journey and share what I can.

(Continue to Part 2)

Japanese text: Arisa Iida
Translation: Kae Shigeno
Photo: Osamu Kurihara
Photographed with the cooperation of  Tokyo Bunka Kaikan