In the late 1960s, the National Theater of Japan made a decision to commission new music for gagaku (court music) orchestra and changed the destiny of traditional Japanese arts.

The decision was controversial because contemporary works for this ancient genre, preserved with only slight variations for more than 1,000 years, were considered an affront to the dignity of the tradition. The first work, by Toshiro Mayuzumi, debuted in 1970 and set that tradition on its ear. It proved the first in a long series of carefully conducted experiments involving several distinguished modern composers.

Perhaps the most distinguished among them was the late Tohru Takemitsu. A concert on May 8 at Suntory Hall will feature "Shuteiga (In an Autumn Garden)" for gagaku orchestra.

Throughout his career, Takemitsu composed important works for traditional Japanese instruments, by themselves or in combination with Western instruments, including "November Steps," "Eclipse" and "Tabi (Journey)." "Shuteiga," however, represents the aesthetic culmination of the Japanese side of his musical personality. In it, he consistently demonstrates a thorough knowledge of the latest trends both in Western-style contemporary and in traditional Japanese musical practice, but it is his artistic interpretation and sensitivity to traditional aesthetics that distinguish "Shuteiga" as truly Japanese.

Listeners unfamiliar with Japanese court music will be enchanted by the exotic sounds of "Shuteiga"; those who are familiar with the tradition and expect the usual will be astonished. It is essentially a tone poem for gagaku orchestra, with a poetic treatment of atmosphere, timbre, climax, time and space that follow the Japanese rather than Western practice.

Each of the six movements of the work has a distinct character. The fourth (the original work, composed in 1973) stands apart from the others and is often accompanied by traditional dance. Later, in 1979, Takemitsu revised the piece to include five additional movements that were composed and presented as the 26th performance of modern gagaku at the National Theater.

"Strope," the first movement, sets the tone for the musical material roughly following court music's ancient practice of netori, the formal introduction to establish the mode and mood of the composition. Variations on a traditional theme are many.

Pan-Asian origins are clearly evident in Takemitsu's choice of melody and instrumental blends. Takemitsu adopted the Greek Dorian mode in place of standard gagaku modes; modal centers are unfixed and vary in a manner that suggests Indonesian gamelan, and the overall texture is polyphonic, complicated and occasionally chaotic. At times when all instruments converge in a cacophony of sounds, it seems as if Charles Ives had a hand in the work's creation.

The music moves in a dignified but unpredictable procession, as if the orchestra was strolling through the garden, tones lingering like smoke in the air. The mood is definitely autumn: melancholy, slightly sad in the passing of what was young and vigorous. What is left is a mature, romantic, idyllic scene that arises from Takemitsu's vivid imagination. He used gagaku as a mirror to reflect himself and the pliable possibilities of gagaku instruments.

In the program, "Shuteiga" is coupled with "Kokanya Zen-U," another modern composition for gagaku composed by Sukeyasu Shiba. Shiba, a member of the music department of the Imperial Household Agency and director of the group Reigakusha, approaches tradition from the opposite side.

Since 1984, he has actively promoted contemporary styles for gagaku. Reigakusha, Shiba's contemporary gagaku ensemble that has toured New York, London, Berlin and finally Japan, will perform both works in this unique and rare chance to hear where "tradition" is heading.

Takemitsu once complained about foreigners who frequently chastised him for writing Western instead of Japanese music. He replied: "What matters most is not national boundaries but acceptance of cultures other than our own. I see a need to understand and interpret in my own personal way."

Lucky for us Takemitsu was a man of the world and not confined to Japanese boundaries alone.