The streets that converge on Auckland’s Spark Arena are often animated with fans in the hours leading up to a concert. Last Friday, it was even more so. A sea of fans in the alt fashion uniform of split dye and knee-highs, swelled to an ocean of blue hair and blue ties. All for the girl hiding in your wifi, Hatsune Miku.
Miku is a Vocaloid developed by Japanese company, Crypton Future Media, a music software that lets the user input an original melody and lyrics, and outputs a synthesised singing voice. There are many Vocaloids, most derived from individual human voices and personified by distinguishable anime style characters. Anyone can create songs using Miku’s voice and create visuals using her likeness. CFM collates the most successful of these into official Hatsune Miku albums that she and other Vocaloids can perform in concert.
Despite not having a physical form, as the most famous Vocaloid, Miku has performed across the world. She performed at this year’s Coachella. Ten years ago, she was the opening act for Lady Gaga’s North America tour.
Up until this year, Miku performed as a hologram projection but the Miku Expo 2024 tour marked a shift with Miku appearing from a large LED screen. Although Miku herself is pre-programmed in her singing and actions, created in the production phase via motion capture of a human dancer, she is backed by a live band who enhance the live sound.
Fans flew from across the country, and even abroad from Japan and the U.S., for Miku’s Auckland show. As Miku renders on a screen that takes centre stage, collective awe fills the stadium. There’s a flash of a light beam, then she materialises from the stage floor like a hologram from any good sci-fi film in waves of static, eventually coming into focus before 'singing' the opening lyrics of chiptune rock band Anamanaguchi’s song Miku.
Miku is larger than life; slightly bigger than the average person and in comparison to her bandmates, who are halved by rhythm and harmony to take stage left- and right- respectively. But she is not so large as to break the illusion that she could be human, except for the fact her characteristics are two dimensional, not 3D.
Not suspending this realism is what convinces Miku’s performance as ‘live’. She digitises minimally, mainly in song transitions where she disappears in a gleam of light. A galaxy collapsing in on itself before she re-appears in a different form; always with pigtails but returning in a range of outfits, swapping her cyber fit for Harajuku streetwear or a ruffled fairytale dress.
To complement and counter her restriction to her screen, the rest of the production acts to extend beyond. The band does the most. The percussive drum blasts physically bridge the crowd and stage and the intermingling of guitar solos with Miku’s voice blend the pre-programmed with the present.
Miku interacts with the audience too. She performs her iconic dance sequences while clapping, gesturing to ‘gimme more’ and addressing both sides of the arena. Once she even singles out an individual and breaks her chores mid-song to give them a candid, clumsy wave.
The spectacle of Miku is created in the binary of the synthetic and organic. Visceral screams fill the stadium as each of her support Vocaloids (Rin and Len Kagamine, Meiko, Kaito and Megurine Luka) materialise on-screen for the first time. For many, this is the first time they see their idols outside the screens of their handheld devices, on a scale so large it can only be wondrous.
As much as each of the Vocaloids imitate humanness through the fluidity of their movements, the texture of their voices or their distinct personalities, it is an unattainable ideal. Rather, it accentuates how the Vocaloid is capable of virtuosities beyond what the physical human body can perform, singing faster - and with a pitch range - that tests the limits with ease.
The set list is made up of songs almost each by a different producer, spanning various styles of EDM, rock and musical theatre. Sometimes markers of all genres exist within one song.
Self-awareness of Miku’s virtuality abounds throughout the concert. Even the lyrics are self-referential with themes of fantasy and boundary breaking. Many are so direct she uses her namesake or alludes to her existence hinging on her fans.
“She can be anything,” say two different fans on their favourite thing about Miku. For this tour’s promotional and merch visuals, she is ‘coral reef’ Miku, illustrated by three Australian artists. Her virtuality is what allows fans to have a say in who Miku is.
After the show, children accompanied by their parents politely approach the different cosplayers attending the show to ask for photos. Their choices are endless: classic Miku, sakura Miku, lolita Miku, Garfield Miku; and all are grateful for the photo opportunity. A girl makes her way along the line of people waiting to un-check their bags and hands out a sticker she’s made for the event. It features Miku with a Kiwi bird running behind her.
It is this sense of community that many say is their favourite thing about Miku. Though her performance is virtual, it creates a physical space for her community to come together.
Five individuals eclipsing the age of 20 catch the train to the CBD together; some meeting in person for the first time, brought together by their mutual friend. As they wander to Spark, they wave and stop to chat to others in cosplay or J-fashion, all very clearly headed to see Miku. In the stadium, everyone is cheering for the star and it doesn’t matter that she can’t respond. It just matters that they are there together, united by their cheers, the synchronised movements of glowsticks and the experience.
For her encore, Miku performs two songs ending with Highlight. Her band takes to centre-stage to bow and the crowd cheers, intimating thanks for bringing Miku to life.
Before Miku dissolves into pixels, she addresses the crowd for the third and last time in her one-and-a-half hour long show: “Even when the show is over, we are always connected.”
