What’s Left When You Take the Labels Off Wataru Shindo

Wataru Shindo doesn’t like being introduced. Ask him what he does, and he’ll tell you it’s complicated. Musician, yes, but also someone who ties people up in front of an audience and calls it trust made visible. He talks about both the same way: no ego, no mystique, just two people (or a whole band) figuring out how to hold something together without dropping it.

We talked about where music ends and rope begins, why the Visual Kei sacred distance between artist and fan is quietly dissolving, and what it actually takes for a stranger to hand you their body and trust you not to hurt them.

Hello, Wataru! Thank you so much for accepting our invitation; it’s a real pleasure to have you with us. I’d love to begin with something simple. People often introduce artists with a list of what they do, but if we took all those labels away… who is Wataru Shindo?

Since my career began as a musician, it’s a difficult question to answer. If I had to describe myself without any labels, I’d say I’m someone who enjoys taking on new challenges.

I also tend to look at myself objectively and think carefully about how I can fully immerse myself in whatever I’m about to pursue.

On the other hand, I’m also the kind of person who simply doesn’t do things that don’t genuinely interest me.

Does music still feel like home, even after exploring so many other artistic languages?

In the end, yes, music still feels like home.

But I don’t separate my experiences into different categories. Instead, I try to bring everything I’ve experienced into my music. Every experience I’ve had, whether through music, shibari, or anything else, has become an important part of my creative expression.

You’re someone who moves naturally between different art forms. Do you ever consciously decide, “This idea belongs in music,” or “This one belongs in rope”? Or do your ideas tell you where they want to live?

Yes, absolutely.

Rope, in particular, can sometimes include elements of sensuality or sexuality, so there are moments when deciding how to express an idea requires careful judgment, especially in today’s world.

That’s also what makes it interesting to me. I hope people can appreciate that duality. I want audiences to experience something different through rope than they do through my music, rather than seeing them as the same form of expression.

When you perform music and when you perform shibari, are you trying to evoke the same emotions in your audience, or do those two art forms allow you to express completely different parts of yourself?

Fundamentally, they’re the same.

When I talk about music, I’m talking about being in a band, so it’s never just about expressing my own emotions. It’s something we create together as a group.

Shibari is the same in that respect. The model and I work together to create a single world or atmosphere. Our roles are different, of course, but the creative process is essentially the same.

I’d love to know what inspires you beyond your own disciplines. Are there any artists, writers, filmmakers, or even everyday experiences that have quietly shaped the way you create?

It’s actually difficult for me to name specific inspirations outside my own fields. That said, there are many artists, entrepreneurs, and creators around the world who have achieved remarkable success. I often enjoy listening to their stories, learning how they think, and understanding the paths they’ve taken. Those kinds of experiences inspire me.

In the Japanese Visual Kei scene, the ‘sacred illusion’ of the performer is fiercely protected; there is a highly stylized distance between the stage and the crowd, and in the majority of cases, you have to buy a VIP pass to have 5 to 10 minutes with your idol. But in the European gothic and alternative scenes, fans often enjoy breaking down the distance between artist and audience, and they expect bands to come down to the bar, grab a beer, and just hang out after the show. If you ever visit Romania, how do you think you would navigate that cultural difference?

The Japanese Visual Kei scene has always had a very unique culture, but in recent years I think the relationship between artists and fans has become much closer, much like it is in Europe. Social media has played a huge role in that change.

Interestingly, in the shibari community it’s completely normal to interact directly with the audience. After a performance, it’s not unusual to tie audience members who want to experience rope themselves.

When I first entered that world, I was honestly surprised by how different it was from the Visual Kei scene. But now that I work in both, I really enjoy connecting with people whenever I can.

Both communities continue to evolve, so I believe the culture of the Visual Kei scene will continue to change as well.

For those who don’t know, Wataru is also a Shibari artist. To me, Shibari is inherently an act of extreme vulnerability, so how do you cultivate that deep, almost private intimacy with a model when there is an audience watching? Does the presence of a crowd intensify the connection between you, or do you find yourself tuning everything else out?

The relationship between a rigger and a model is incredibly important. Above all else, it’s built on trust.

Shibari carries real physical risks. In the worst cases, improper technique can even lead to long-term nerve damage. Once someone is tied, they can no longer move freely, so they are placing their body entirely in the hands of the rigger.

Performances also often involve revealing costumes, and in private settings there’s always the possibility of inappropriate situations if trust doesn’t exist. That’s why establishing a relationship where the model feels completely safe is absolutely essential.

Unlike a musical instrument, every human body is different. A rigger needs to understand a model’s flexibility, pain tolerance, bone structure, and even the position of their nerves. Some people naturally have physical limitations, so finding a model whose body and goals match your own style is an important part of the work.

In many ways, shibari depends on mutual understanding even more than music does. Before every performance, we spend a lot of time communicating. During the performance, I constantly watch the model so I can immediately notice even the smallest physical or emotional changes.

That level of trust isn’t built overnight. It grows through repeated collaborations, honest conversations, and sharing feedback before and after each performance.

As that trust deepens, the connection between us naturally becomes stronger, and I believe the audience can feel that connection as well.

If I had to compare it to something, I’d say it’s similar to a pair of ballroom dancers or ice dancers. Their performance only works because of the deep trust they’ve built together.

Trust is often described as one of the foundations of rope. Has practicing Shibari changed the way you understand trust, vulnerability, or human connection in your everyday life?

I think it has changed me to some extent.

Since I’ve always played in bands, I’ve long understood how important trust and relationships are between people working together. Because of that, the impact may not have been as dramatic for me as it might be for someone else.

However, having another person literally entrust their body to you creates a level of responsibility and trust that’s unlike almost anything else. That experience has definitely influenced the way I think about human relationships.

I think you might laugh at this one, but let’s picture a slightly surreal scenario: If your favorite bass guitar suddenly came to life for just five minutes as a living entity in your room. What kind of personality would it have, and what’s the very first thing it would complain to you about?

It would probably say, “Take better care of me!”

Every artist keeps evolving. Looking back at your younger self, the musician who was just beginning his journey, what do you think he would say if he met the Wataru Shindo of today?

I think he’d just smile and say, “You haven’t changed at all.”

After everything you’ve explored as an artist so far, what are you still curious about? What excites you the most about the road ahead?

Recently, I’ve been studying photography. Having spent so much time in front of the camera, I’d now like to explore the other side as well and work as a photographer.

I also believe I’ll be spending much more time working overseas in the future. I’m excited not only about performing in different countries, but also about meeting new people, building connections, and continuing to expand the range of what I can do as an artist.

Thank you again for doing this; it was such a fun conversation, and I really enjoyed it! Before we say goodbye, would you like to leave a message for your Romanian fans?

I’ve never had the chance to visit Romania, but I’ve already received so many messages and kind words from people there, and I truly feel the excitement and support.

I hope I’ll be able to visit Romania in the future through both my music and my shibari performances. I’m looking forward to discussing those possibilities with promoters and everyone involved to make it happen.

I would be truly grateful if you continue supporting me until the day we can finally meet in person. Thank you so much, and I hope to see you in Romania someday.