The Bulletin #12

THE RECORD

OPUS / Ryuichi Sakamoto (2024)

Ryuichi Sakamoto’s final album is a whispered farewell — modest and deeply moving — recorded in a single take, alone at the piano in an empty studio. This solo performance distills a lifetime of music into one quiet, graceful breath.

Also conceived as a testament, Opus was filmed by his son, Neo Sora, during the final months of Sakamoto’s life. You can hear the shortness of breath, the fragility of the body, but also a piercing clarity. Each piece is a held breath, a memory revisited — Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence, The Last Emperor, Energy Flow… moments replayed under a new light.

THE MUSEUM

THE ORIENTAL ART MUSEUM / Venice

Tucked away in the upper floors of Ca’ Pesaro, the Museum of Asian Art in Venice is one of those quiet treasures you don’t stumble upon — you receive it. The collection, assembled by Prince Enrico di Borbone in the early 20th century, is remarkable. Japanese warrior armors, exquisitely mounted sabers, spears and halberds sit alongside stunningly delicate prints and everyday objects elevated by time.

What moves you as much as the objects themselves is the way they’re presented: almost untouched since the 1950s, just as imagined by architect Carlo Scarpa. Dark wood display cases, gentle lighting, hushed pacing — every detail invites slow discovery and reverence for what these cultures have achieved in craftsmanship and artistry.

It’s a museum that doesn’t impose. It quietly waits. And if you take the time, it leaves something lasting.

THE COCKTAIL

THE GREENPOINT

As the days stretch out and the air turns softer, you start craving a drink with one foot in winter and the other in renewal. The Greenpoint is a refined twist on the Manhattan — rough around the edges, but elegant. Rye whiskey, sweet vermouth, and a touch of yellow Chartreuse for its herbaceous lift. A twist of lemon on top, and suddenly, something a little sunlit appears in your glass.

Here is a transitional cocktail, just like a mid-season wardrobe.

• 60 ml Rye whiskey
• 15 ml Sweet Red Vermouth
• 15 ml Yellow Chartreuse
• 1 to 2 dashes of bitters (ideally one dash Angostura + one dash Orange bitters)
• Lemon twist (for garnish)

THE FILM

THE SPY WHO CAME FROM THE COLD /
Martin Ritt (1965)

There’s nothing glamorous about espionage here. The Spy Who Came in from the Cold is a film of shadows, where everything hinges on blurred loyalties, double games, and emotional exhaustion. Adapted from John le Carré’s 1963 novel, it stars Richard Burton as a worn-out, disillusioned agent — light-years away from the James Bond fantasy. The kind of man who’s seen too much, done too much, and keeps going out of habit or cynicism.

Its icy black and white deepens the sense of an ending. Everything is muted, tense, exquisitely written. Not a word wasted, not a gesture too much. You can feel the Cold War in its most intimate dimension — not just geopolitical, but deeply emotional.

A film that doesn’t charm you on the surface. It settles in slowly, like a truth you’d rather not have known.