The 100 Soundscapes of Japan

Most travellers to Japan come prepared to see. They expect to be dazzled by cherry blossoms, the neon swirl of Tokyo’s Shinjuku, or the tranquil symmetry of Kyoto’s temples. But in 1996, Japan’s Ministry of the Environment invited the country to do something different: to listen. Out of more than 700 public nominations, they compiled a list of the “100 Soundscapes of Japan”—a catalogue of the nation’s most cherished natural and cultural sounds.

At the time, concerns about rising noise pollution were mounting. Cities were swelling, machines and traffic were drowning out the subtler sounds of everyday life. By naming and celebrating these soundscapes, the government hoped to preserve them, protect them, and remind people that identity is carried not just in sights and smells, but in sound.

The bamboo forest in Kyoto. Credit: Ben & Gab

The list spans the length and breadth of Japan, touching all 47 prefectures, and embraces both the natural and the human-made. Some sounds are timeless—the crash of drift ice in the Sea of Okhotsk, the chorus of cicadas echoing through Yamagata’s mountain temple of Yamadera, the rhythmic call of Japanese cranes Izumi, the “singing sand” of Kotobikihama Beach. Others are distinctly cultural—the jingling bells of the Chagu Chagu Umakko horse festival in Iwate, the resonant toll of Buddhist temple bells, the knock-knock of hammers against the chisel of wood carvers in Inami, and the pleasant ringing sound of water splashing inside a suikinkutsu.

Why does sound matter? Because they are often the most fragile part of our environment. A waterfall silenced by a dam, an insect species lost to pesticide use, a festival that fades as younger generations move away—these are changes that happen quietly, until one day the sound is gone. By identifying 100 soundscapes, Japan created a form of cultural conservation, elevating the ordinary to the level of heritage.

And it worked. Today, the list inspires soundwalks, field recordings, and even albums that let listeners experience the rustle of bamboo, the roar of a coastal storm, or the simple rhythm of a ramie loom.