Hiroshi Kanazawa – One-Day Zen Retreat & Concert of Love and Compassion

The human voice is the simplest instrument.

And also the most beautiful one.

Since the Middle Ages, the West has embraced the pure human voice as a means of purification and spiritual elevation. The development of Gregorian Chant stands as the most iconic example—through music, a bridge is formed between the human and the divine. In churches, sacred harmonies resound through the halls, rising layer by layer, believed to reach the ears of heaven.

In the East, Master Hong Yi, a Buddhist monk well-versed in music, employed its richness to compose the widely beloved “Song of the Triple Gem.”

Whether in the Buddhist temple’s chants or the church’s sacred choir, sound has always been a vital medium of communication between the divine and humanity, between heaven and earth.

Imagine this:

What would it be like to hold a vocal concert—featuring only the human voice—within the sacred halls of an Eastern Buddhist temple?

What kind of atmosphere would emerge? What sonic landscape might unfold?

These were the very questions stirring in the hearts of many who came to attend In Search of the Depth of Sound.

In May, I came to Bodhisattva Temple in Taichung.

Within the serene and tranquil space, the sound of flowing water moved gently. Hiroshi Kanazawa’s rich, full voice echoed through the temple halls, soaring gracefully before the Buddha. Surrounded by the flowing water and enveloping song, one could feel— what was truly streaming forth was an endless current of love and compassion.

Bodhisattva Temple: Love Knows No Distance

This unique vocal concert was held at Bodhisattva Temple in Taichung.

Sister Yeh of the temple shared:

“In the early planning stage, Teacher Zheng Huichung suggested bringing an electric piano into the main hall. I initially said, ‘That’s impossible.’ But our Venerable Master Huiguang simply said, ‘Yes, we can.’”

She explained that Master Huiguang, the guiding spirit behind this creative idea, was at the time teaching in Hong Kong.

“Whether it’s Hong Kong, Nepal, Japan, or Taiwan,” said Sister Yeh, “love knows no distance. Compassion makes no distinction.”

During the rehearsal the day before the concert, Mr. Hiroshi Kanazawa was moved to tears by thoughts of his late mother—a moment of heartfelt emotion that touched everyone present.

“In Buddhism, we speak of sentient beings as our mothers, a compassionate mother to all. Through the countless cycles of rebirth, every living being may once have been our mother. The deep love we hold for our own mother can be returned to all beings—as expressed in the spirit of great compassion for those without connection, and deep empathy for all beings as one body.”

“Love and longing give us the chance to learn true compassion. When we treat every living being with the same tender feeling we hold for our mothers, we cultivate boundless kindness—even toward those in pain, even toward those we may see as enemies. Each one of them might have been our mother.”

Sister Yeh offered a final blessing to Mr. Kanazawa:

“May your voice henceforth carry not only your love for your mother, but also the gentle blessing of your mother’s love—expressed through every song you sing.”

Connecting to Those We Love Through Song

Before the concert began, Mr. Hiroshi Kanazawa shared the story of how this event came to be. It all started, he said, with the robe he was wearing. Years ago, he discovered Huichung Textiles because of his love for natural fabrics, and through that, met Teacher Zheng Huichung. Drawn to the natural and comfortable aesthetic of Huichung's clothing, he grew increasingly fond of Taiwan, frequently traveling between Japan and Taiwan. He even expressed the hope of one day living in Taiwan to sing and teach music.

With a smile, Mr. Kanazawa gently touched the robe he wore and said, “Because of my body shape, it’s always been hard to find clothing I like that fits well. But Teacher Zheng told me, ‘No problem. I can make something tailored for you.’ I was overjoyed!”

On September 15, 2015, the night before a performance in Tokyo, the Taiwan TOGO team flew to Japan to support him. Then, on May 12, 2018, seventeen of Mr. Kanazawa’s students traveled from Japan to Taiwan to attend this very concert held at Bodhisattva Temple.

Mr. Kanazawa’s musical approach is deeply natural and unembellished. Rather than donning the usual black formalwear of opera singers, he wore a flowing blue robe in Eastern style, paired with loose black pants—simple, free, and without ornament.

His singing followed the same spirit: a pure, honest expression of music. The entire concert was performed without microphones, accompanied only by a minimal electronic keyboard, and streamed live in its natural acoustic form—testament to his deep musical sensibility.

Even the rehearsal was moving. He explained why he had chosen the songs:

“For someone like me who has loved singing since childhood, my mother was always my greatest supporter.”

However, by the time he first took the stage at age seventeen, his mother had already passed away. She never had the chance to see him perform—a loss he still carries.

That’s why, at every concert, he carefully selects pieces his mother loved. Each time he sings, it is with remembrance and longing. This time, too, he offered those songs not only to the audience—but also to her. Remembering his gentle, loving mother, he finds deeper meaning in singing.

Held on the eve of Mother’s Day, this concert became a moment of shared emotion. Whether or not our mothers are physically with us, every listener at the concert felt the same deep reverence and love.

Like Mr. Kanazawa himself, we all—through the power of song—reconnected with the tenderness of a mother’s love.

It was a time to feel again the quiet strength of compassion.

The Heart Sutra and the Music of Eternal Love

The first half of the concert featured six beloved Japanese songs, performed by Mr. Hiroshi Kanazawa. Each one carried deep themes of motherly love, familial affection, and the longing for home. As he began to sing, the audience journeyed alongside the mother and child in the lyrics, traveling on their imaginary cart, gently returning to their own emotional homeland—to the embrace of their mothers.

“Beneath the setting moon and crow’s cry, shadows of dreams drift faintly... Do you remember what once was? Flowing with the joys and sorrows of life… the grace of our parents shall last forever...”

When Mr. Kanazawa sang compositions by Master Hong Yi, such as Farewell and Dream, the emotional resonance rose to its peak. The air was thick with reverence and feeling.

The second half of the concert centered on the Heart Sutra—both in performance and in participatory chanting.

Mr. Kanazawa performed his own melodic arrangement of the Heart Sutra in Japanese, transforming the age-old scripture into a living breath that carried listeners toward the shore of wisdom.

“Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, practicing deeply the Perfection of Wisdom, clearly saw that the five aggregates are all empty, and thus overcame all suffering and distress...”

As his voice resounded, participants approached the altar to offer light, dedicating their prayers to those they missed and loved.

With the sound of the Heart Sutra echoing through the space, everyone said goodbye—with gentleness—to those they cherished. But that farewell was not an end; it was a new beginning.

Farewell no longer felt sorrowful.

Because we are destined to arrive together at the eternal shore.

If we have ever held hands in love, then even death can be a joyful dance.

“Form is emptiness; emptiness is form.”

Death is life. Parting is reunion.

We shall all return, together, to the other shore of the heart.

“No ignorance, and also no end of ignorance; no aging and death, and no end of aging and death…”

The chanting of the Heart Sutra continued without end—just as love and compassion never cease.

For the encore, Mr. Kanazawa chose Memory, from the Broadway musical Cats.

In that song, “today” marks the end of memory—but also the beginning of a new day.

And so, in this concert, we offered blessings to the departed—and embraced rebirth.

Through his pure and sacred voice, Mr. Kanazawa led Grizabella down the path to heaven—step by step.

With every note, the soul was cleansed and elevated—until the music itself became divine communion.

Through death, life is transformed and reborn.

“The human voice is the simplest instrument—and also the most beautiful one.”

Although trained in classical technique, Mr. Kanazawa believes that a voice filled with sincere, heartfelt emotion is the most beautiful music of all.

After the performance, renowned Taiwanese singer and composer Hsu Jing-Chun appeared and offered a heartfelt Taiwanese folk song in honor of mothers.

Mr. Kanazawa reflected:

“When our eyes met as we sang together, I knew immediately—Ms. Hsu not only possesses a beautiful voice, but a deep and sincere love for music.

That sincerity… that emotion… is the most essential ingredient of truly great music.”

A Musical Performance Where Emotion Meets Mastery

At 45 years old, Hiroshi Kanazawa has lived each day immersed in music since he began singing at the age of ten.

“Music is not just the center of my life—it is my entire life.”

A defining moment in his musical journey came when he met world-renowned vocal coach Adrienne Angel, once called “the best voice teacher in the world.”

It was through her that Mr. Kanazawa truly understood the level of his own voice and performance. Adrienne became a pillar of support for him, and her encouragement gave him the confidence to stand tall on stage as a vocalist.

He still vividly remembers the first time they met.

“I had worked so hard just to earn a spot in her masterclass—I was so excited. In that class, each participant had to sing in front of her, but most were stopped after only a few phrases.”

“When it was my turn, she let me sing the entire piece. After I finished, she looked at me and said, ‘You don’t need this class. Why are you here? What are you trying to learn?’”

At first, he was alarmed, thinking he had made a mistake or done something wrong.

But in truth, her words were the highest form of praise. After years of intense discipline and training, he had finally found someone who truly understood him—someone of the highest caliber, offering recognition and affirmation.

From that point on, the two remained in close contact. Their relationship has been that of both teacher and friend, and in many ways, Adrienne became like a second mother to him.

Mr. Kanazawa often updates her on his musical journey—just as he did when preparing for this performance at Bodhisattva Temple in Taiwan. She was overjoyed to hear of his success.

Though years of training and stage experience have shaped his refined and flawless technique, what Mr. Kanazawa values most is sincerity.

To him, only a voice that comes from the heart can truly be called a good voice.

Of course,

“A performance where technical artistry and genuine emotion merge—that is the highest form of music.”

The Depth of Sound Comes from Its Origin

Hiroshi Kanazawa’s musical journey began in the world of Broadway musicals, where he challenged and refined his vocal technique through rigorous performance.

Eventually, he moved beyond complexity and ornamentation, returning to the essence of music: the pure human voice.

Through solo performances rooted in unamplified, natural singing, he seeks the most essential element of heavenly sound—the original voice of the body and soul.

This approach resonates with the recent academic focus in ethnomusicology on overtone singing and Khoomei throat singing traditions from regions like Tuva and Mongolia.

The less one is bound by external constraints, the greater the energy that gathers within—and the greater the freedom released through sound.

By shedding layer upon layer of restriction, what remains is a raw and primal form of emotional resonance.

To seek the “depth of sound” is to return to the very origin of voice.

For indigenous peoples of the steppes, and for Taiwan’s native tribes, such singing was never simply entertainment.

It was a spiritual offering—an expression of awe and reverence for the earth and sky, presented through the voice.

This simplicity, however, is not easy to master.

If a voice lacks depth, it lacks power—the kind of power that stirs the soul.

It is this moving, soul-stirring quality that Mr. Kanazawa seeks in his art.

During the concert, he also demonstrated and taught the fundamentals of proper vocal technique.

True vocal technique, he explained, rests on three essential steps: warming up, proper posture, and correct breathing.

Of these, posture and breath are the most critical.

Beyond performance, Mr. Kanazawa’s deepest passion lies in music education.

His students range in age from ten to over eighty, and regardless of age or ability, he teaches with equal dedication.

He believes that proper vocal technique is crucial—because many acclaimed singers damage their vocal cords or bodies due to poor technique, and are forced to abandon their careers.

Only those who understand how to use their voice correctly can sing joyfully and healthily for a lifetime.

“In order to sing beautifully, the body and mind must be healthy.

And only those who master proper vocal technique can continue to sing beautiful songs with ease and balance.”

Moreover,

“Singing joyfully with proper technique is not just art—it’s a form of self-care and longevity.”

It is no surprise that his beloved teacher Adrienne Angel, now in her nineties, remains active, healthy, and vibrant.

Her strength lies in her mastery of vocal health.

She has always encouraged Mr. Kanazawa to share this knowledge far and wide.

Spreading the joy of healthy, beautiful singing—

This is the shared mission of two vocalists, bound not only by music, but by love for all who sing.

Epilogue・Echoes

Reflections One Month After the Concert, from Japan

A Bond That Crosses Borders

By Kanazawa Makoto (Father of Hiroshi Kanazawa)

The concert held at Bodhisattva Temple in Taichung was deeply solemn, grand, and filled with harmony—it was truly a moving day.

I offer my heartfelt thanks to the organizers, co-organizers, and every single guest who attended.

This entire journey was built on human connection—a bond that transcended national borders.

According to my son, it all began with a simple wish: he wanted to try on the clothing designed by Master Zheng.

That desire led to his encounter with Master Zheng, who is deeply rooted in cultural and artistic expression.

And from there, a meaningful series of events unfolded.

Master Zheng's team once traveled all the way from Taiwan to attend my son’s concert in Japan.

Later, they even arranged for him to record songs at a studio in Taiwan.

I believe this:

Master Zheng does not want to see art and culture fade away. She wants the beauty of both to be seen, preserved, and passed on to the next generation.

It’s this deep conviction that made the concert possible.

Guests came from across Taiwan, and participants also flew in from Japan—my son’s students, his sister, his aunt, and myself included.

Though it was a solo performance, I’m certain everyone gathered at Bodhisattva Temple was moved and stirred by the passion and resonance of his voice.

Songs in memory of his mother, and the Heart Sutra—

These pieces, I learned, were commissioned by Ms. Yeh of Bodhisattva Temple and composed by my son.

I was completely absorbed while listening.

When the entire audience joined in singing the Heart Sutra, the atmosphere reached an emotional crescendo that was unforgettable.

The organizers mentioned they hope to hold another event next year, for which I’m sincerely grateful.

Ms. Yeh also expressed interest in bringing this music into schools and hospitals—to explore new platforms for healing and education.

As a father, I feel immense pride and joy knowing my son’s voice has created such deep and lasting connections among so many people.

I hope these connections will continue to grow and blossom into the future.

Thank you, Master Zheng.

Thank you, Ms. Yeh.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

A Deep Resonance

By Kanazawa Rie (Sister of Hiroshi Kanazawa)

Although this was my first time visiting Bodhisattva Temple, it felt like a place I had long known.

Wearing one of Teacher Zheng’s soft, comfortable garments and listening to my brother sing here in Taiwan—it was a day full of emotion, and one I will never forget.

Since childhood, every time I heard my brother sing, I always felt a powerful sense of resonance.

There is one song that especially stays with me.

My brother dedicated it to a woman with braided hair who took care of him during a trip to Milan.

She once told him, “I wanted to be a vocalist, too.”

That simple phrase stayed in his heart, and every time he remembers it, it moves him deeply.

I sincerely hope that my brother will have more opportunities to sing for the people of Taiwan—this place he loves so much—guided by the care and wisdom of Teacher Zheng, whom he holds in the highest respect.

To Teacher Zheng, and to all the friends who support my brother—thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

The Most Precious Gift

By Sumiyo Yokoyama

I feel incredibly fortunate to have attended Mr. Kanazawa’s very first concert in Taiwan.

It was truly a memorable performance—one that will remain etched in my heart.

Just being in the beautiful country of Taiwan was already a joy, but to stand in a sacred temple space, wearing the elegant clothing prepared by Teacher Zheng Huichung, and listening to Mr. Kanazawa’s singing alongside warm, kind-hearted Taiwanese friends—those moments of happiness still linger within me.

I received many precious gifts on this journey.

Among them, the most meaningful of all was the Heart Sutra, sung so beautifully by Mr. Kanazawa.

On the day of the concert, we sang the Heart Sutra together with him, and after repeating it several times, the melody and words became etched into my memory.

That, above all, is the most treasured gift I brought home from this journey.

I sincerely hope to meet my friends in Taiwan again someday.

During the group photo at the end, a Taiwanese friend beside me gently held my hand—and just thinking of that moment brings me joy even now.

Energy That Transcends Time and Space

By Asako Moroyama

I have attended every concert Mr. Kanazawa has given since 2004.

This particular concert at Bodhisattva Temple felt different from the very beginning.

Unlike the usual sense of tension before a performance, the atmosphere here was calm, gentle, and full of warmth.

I truly felt the open-hearted welcome of our friends in Taiwan.

Even after returning to Japan, something mysterious remained with me.

Whenever I wear the clothing by Teacher Zheng—infused with the spirit of the concert and the sound of Mr. Kanazawa’s voice—no matter how hectic daily life becomes, my heart naturally settles into peace.

Without thinking, I find myself softly chanting the Heart Sutra.

Since coming back from Taiwan, I’ve encountered people in need more often than usual.

I don’t believe it’s a coincidence.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

謝謝！

A Heartfelt Cleansing of Body, Mind, and Spirit

By Keiko Nakata

Bodhisattva Temple was not what I had imagined—it was a modern place, surprisingly close to everyday life and deeply accessible.

I sat in the front row of the temple hall, where the Buddha before me gazed down with such compassion.

I felt as if my spirit was being gently purified in that sacred presence.

When Mr. Kanazawa began singing Japanese lyrical songs, tears welled up in my eyes without warning.

And when we all chanted the Heart Sutra together, I felt a profound cleansing—of body, mind, and soul.

This was my very first visit to Taiwan, and I was moved by the warmth and kindness of everyone I met.

At the same time, I felt certain that something important—something we Japanese may have forgotten—still lives on here in Taiwan.

I am deeply grateful for the chance to have had such a rare and precious experience.

A Song for My Mother, Heard on Mother’s Day

By Hideko Kuroki

On May 13, 2018, I attended a concert held at Bodhisattva Temple in Taichung, Taiwan.

When Mr. Hiroshi Kanazawa performed his own composition of the Heart Sutra, he invited us to sing the final repeated section together.

In that moment, I truly felt united with everyone around me—as if we were offering one shared prayer.

What was I praying for?

Earlier in the concert, Mr. Kanazawa sang several Japanese songs, including one titled “Mother”.

The next day was Mother’s Day, celebrated around the world.

This song resonated deeply in my heart.

Knowing that Mr. Kanazawa lost his mother when he was still in his teens, hearing him sing this song with tears in his eyes made me feel as though it reconnected us to loved ones we had lost.

I once heard that in China, it’s believed that departed souls return on Qingming Festival.

I feel the same way about Mother’s Day—that our thoughts and love reach our mothers in the beyond.

My own mother passed away on May 5, 2009.

In Japan, we traditionally hold memorial services in the 3rd, 7th, and 13th years, but as time passes, the intervals grow longer.

I never forgot my mother, but I hadn’t spoken directly to her in a long time.

She once told me that when she was young, she studied sewing at a temple.

Back then, she often chanted the Heart Sutra, and even in her old age, it remained a part of her life.

There’s something mysterious about voice.

Unlike memories of a face, a voice brings someone vividly back to life.

I often recall my mother’s voice.

At Bodhisattva Temple, on the eve of Mother’s Day, when I heard the song “Mother”, it was as if I truly heard my own mother’s voice again.

It felt like I was just one breath away from holding her hand once more.

As we chanted “Gate Gate Paragate Parasamgate Bodhi Svaha,” I found myself quietly asking,

“Mom… are you there? Are you singing with me…?”

After the concert, as I tied my prayer tag to a tree branch, my heart was full of gratitude.

“Mom, thank you. You’re here with me.”

I’m truly grateful for such a sincere and deeply moving experience.

A Beautiful Bond from "Clothing" to "Song"

By Hiroshi Kanazawa

First of all, I want to express my heartfelt gratitude for the opportunity to hold my very first concert in Taiwan.

Although I had long been interested in Taiwan, what truly moved me to finally visit was—Teacher Zheng’s clothing.

In one of his books, Mr. Matsuura Yatarō introduced Teacher Zheng’s garments. When I saw the pictures, I was shocked.

I thought: “How can clothing be this beautiful… and this philosophical?” From that moment, I longed every day to go to Taiwan and see these clothes in person.

Thanks to Mr. Matsuura’s introduction, I was fortunate enough to visit Teacher Zheng’s studio in Taiwan.

I was deeply moved by her work. I began collecting the clothing little by little—and now I can’t imagine living without it.

What began as a connection through clothing soon evolved into something greater: Teacher Zheng supported me in producing this concert, conceptualizing it, and even designing the program booklet.

It became a co-creation of art.

One day, Teacher Zheng told me:

“I live for others.”

“Buddhism and art exist to shape each other’s future.”

Through clothing, and through music, we both live for a shared purpose.

I also believe that music cannot exist with just the performer alone—it exists for the listener.

We shouldn’t live isolated in our own worlds. It’s through working together, sharing, and connecting that we find true joy and a path forward.

It was through these connections, and the kindness of everyone at Bodhisattva Temple, that this concert came to be.

In early November 2017, I visited Bodhisattva Temple for the first time.

The temple’s pure and serene space completely overturned my preconceived notions of what a “temple” should be.

It deeply moved me.

I felt that this place truly had “heart.”

The concert was to be held in the temple’s main hall.

Performing there made me incredibly nervous.

Ms. Yeh of Bodhisattva Temple asked me to compose a melody for the Heart Sutra, one that everyone could sing together.

What an exciting idea!

At the same time, I trembled inside.

I was being asked to write a song as an offering to this sacred temple.

As I began preparing for the concert, I made a silent vow in my heart:

I would surrender myself to Teacher Zheng’s generous spirit, and to the current of Buddhism that I had felt at Bodhisattva Temple—a current that was vast and gentle.

Through my music, I wanted those who helped me to feel something beautiful.

I believed that if I surrendered to that current, it would surely bring joy to everyone.

When I returned to Japan and began composing, I struggled daily.

The deeper I went into the Heart Sutra, the more difficult it became.

Trying to match melody to each word made me feel overwhelmed and lost.

I rewrote and revised it over and over… and before I knew it, 2018 had arrived.

That day, I was again alone, working in my recording studio.

The Heart Sutra… I began to feel that it was a dialogue between Avalokiteśvara and Śāriputra.

I wasn’t setting words to music—I was composing a conversation.

That’s it!

It hit me: this is opera! This is musical theatre!

In Christianity, there are hymns that praise God.

I trained in Western classical singing—I’ve lived in a musical world based on praise.

So why not treat the Heart Sutra as a Buddhist libretto—expressed through the framework of Western musical praise?

In that moment, I found my path.

It was as if the music descended from the heavens—melodies began to fill my mind.

On May 11, I traveled to Taiwan with students, fans, and family.

Everyone was dressed in Teacher Zheng’s clothing—so beautiful, and smiling joyfully.

That sight remains one of my dearest memories.

That evening, we held our final rehearsal at Bodhisattva Temple.

During rehearsal, I felt nothing but gratitude for everyone who had worked so hard behind the scenes.

The meeting we held—with Ms. Yeh at the center, and the entire team gathered around—is something I will never forget.

I shared stories of my mother and how, for every concert, I always select a song for her.

To let her “attend” this one too, we wrote her name in the main hall and offered it with prayer.

At that moment, I thought: It’s all in place.

Everything was ready.

On the day of the concert, my heart felt like a clear blue sky.

There was no nervousness, no fear—just the feeling of singing as if I were at home.

Even though I sang in Japanese, I believe everyone present could feel something that transcended language.

As I performed Japanese songs, works by Master Hong Yi, and finally the Heart Sutra, the hall filled with a very special atmosphere.

The honest voice from my heart reached the audience—and their hearts responded in kind.

During the performance, I felt a flow of unseen emotion moving between us.

The most moving moment of all was when everyone sang the Heart Sutra together, and offered candles to the Buddha.

At the end of the concert, Ms. Yeh said:

“Next year, we’ll definitely hold this concert again at Bodhisattva Temple.”

I was overwhelmed with gratitude.

Everything about this concert brought me joy—and opened the door to a whole new world.

From now on, I hope to continue singing in Taiwan, the place I love, together with friends I cherish.

This is my life’s work.

Lastly, I want to thank:

Teacher Zheng, her team, Ms. Yeh, and the many brothers and sisters at Bodhisattva Temple.

And especially Mr. Tsai Chin-Hung, who always helps me despite my lack of Chinese.

And Mr. Tetsuya Takahashi, who has supported my work for many years.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Within the serene and tranquil space of Bodhisattva Temple, water flowed gently and continuously. The ancient and profound truths of the Dharma seemed to quietly unfold—ripening in silence within the minimalist beauty of its modern concrete architecture.

As I recall that concert, Mr. Hiroshi Kanazawa’s rich, rounded voice echoed through the temple, soaring before the Buddha. The water continued to flow, unhurried and undisturbed. And in that sound, it felt as though what was gently welling up and flowing forth—was none other than love and compassion, endless and eternal.

IBS Bodhisattva Temple　International Bodhisattva Sangha

A single morning breeze, the moon and sky stretch endlessly.

The old plum tree and stone before the temple gate silently reveal the profound truth of interdependent arising through the passage of time.

Let us return to the Bodhisattva’s home, follow in the footsteps of the Buddha, and explore the truths of life.

Rely on yourself. Rely on the Dharma. Do not rely on anything else.

Address: No. 147, Yonglong Rd., Dali District, Taichung City, Taiwan

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