Synesthesia allows artists to experience one sensory input while automatically perceiving it through multiple senses. While Ryoichi Kurokawa is not a clinical synesthete—nor am I—I find myself intrigued by how his artistic process unfolds. In true synesthesia, the brain acts as a bridge between senses, but Kurokawa seems to approach it differently. He envisions the brain not just as a connector but as a target, an audience, or even a collaborator. As he puts it, “I want to stimulate the brain with sound and video at the same time.”

Exploring his portfolio, I noticed a strong sense that his works are created using TouchDesigner (and turns out it’s not). As a new media student constantly exposed to different tools, my instinct was to research his technical choices. But then I came across his statement: “I don’t have nostalgia for old media like records or CDs, and I’m equally indifferent toward new technology.” This struck me. As an artist, he moves fluidly, guided not by tools but by his vision, much like the way he deconstructs nature’s inherent disorder only to reconstruct it in his own way. It’s not the medium that matters—it’s the transformation.

Watching Octfalls, I could already imagine the experience of standing within the installation, anticipating each moment, immersed in the sudden and precise synchronization of sound and visuals. As I explored more of his works, I noticed how they differ from what I have seen in many audiovisual performances, where sound usually takes precedence while visuals are more of a support role. In Kurokawa’s pieces, sound and visuals are equal partners, forming a unified whole. This made me reconsider my own approach—perhaps, instead of prioritizing one element over the other, a truly cooperative relationship between sound and visuals could be even more compelling.