The Secret of Those with ★ in Their Eyes

In 2022, as I cleared the JAXA (Japan's Space Agency) astronaut selection hurdles one by one, striving to meet the shifting demands of each subsequent stage, I reached the later phases where "Expressive Ability" was listed as one of the evaluation criteria. (For the record, I made it quite far in the selection. Of course, my true heart’s desire was to join a lunar mission and wave to everyone back on Earth from the night sky 380,000 km away...)

How on earth am I supposed to train for Expressive Ability?

Faced with this question, I decided to ask a friend of mine whose speaking and expressive abilities I’ve always considered to be on a different level. Like me, she is a pianist, but unlike me, she is remarkably gifted at public speaking; on stage, she would possess a certain presence—that aura or magnetic radiance that makes a performer truly shine.

The advice she gave me is as follows. (Published here with her permission, translated by me. It is, quite frankly, a paywall-tier professional insight.)

"I apologize if these sound a bit clichéd, but...

・Prepare until you feel you’ve done everything in your power, and all that remains is to enjoy the performance.
→ This creates the mental breathing room needed to let your playfulness and extra flair shine through.
(Conversely, if you are under-prepared, you'll never escape the anxiety of 'Will I get this right?', which drags down your entire performance.)

In the real thing, miracles rarely happen; you cannot exceed what you have achieved in practice. If you raise your precision to the point where you can nail it 100 times out of 100, you’ll reach a state of mind where you can simply enjoy the moment.
It’s a humble, steady path, but I believe that confidence and inner composure are what translate into presence and radiance.

・Enjoy the chemical reaction that comes from interacting with those sharing the space.
In a band, this is easy to grasp because you are playing together. Rather than being preoccupied with proving your own excellence, try making eye contact or smiling at your members to elevate each other’s spirits. When you do, the audience naturally starts to have fun too.

I think you can apply this interaction to the audience (or in this case, the examiners).
It’s the feeling of: 'Everyone in this room is co-creating this atmosphere and this world right now.'

・During the actual event, you'll likely be stiff with unconscious tension, so I think your expressions and gestures will carry much better if you aim to project them larger than life.

・In my case, I find that routines help—like placing my watch or accessories next to the keyboard just before I start. Even having a small personal talisman or lucky charm can help you regain your composure and perform at your best.

→ I feel like everything connects back to the keyword 'Composure'. The things you do to find it, and the things you can only achieve once you have it."

—

Remarkable, how advice born from a musical session and intended for an astronaut exam feels so tailor-made for an aerialist. I’m tempted to just end the post right here, but that would be a bit too effortless; so for the sake of my fellow aerialists, I shall continue.

As I mentioned in The 100-Run Rule, I established 100 checkpoints for my routine and self-scored every single rehearsal. By calculating your successes out of exactly 100 runs, you should, in theory, obtain data in precise 1% increments.

However, as you actually put this into practice, something happens: as the runs accumulate, you find more and more spots that you have "completely mastered"—areas where you can perform with 100% success and no longer need to score. Naturally, you remove these from the checklist and replace them with new, subtle areas of concern.

The result is rather intriguing. At the start, the 100-point checklist is filled with blatant errors—fundamental items like whether the timing matches the music or if the silk is wrapped correctly. But as the 100th run approaches, the list inevitably becomes incredibly niche. It shifts toward subtle details: whether the reach of my right hand as I take the silk is infused with expression, or if my gaze at that moment is guiding the audience’s anticipation toward the next movement.

Expression (Soft Skills) is only unleashed once technique (Hard Skills) becomes second nature.
And in a live performance, making eye contact with the audience, hearing their cheers, and projecting every possible signal to elevate each other's spirits while truly enjoying the music and the silks—all of this can only overflow from the heart, purely and spontaneously, once the mind is no longer tethered to the mechanics of the movement.

As someone without innate gifts, this is the realization I arrived at. In aerial, as in life, I believe this is the secret behind presence and radiance: a trainable skill born entirely from composure.

—

I can recall certain "unfair" people who seem to possess expression, radiance, and presence as if by birth. I used to wonder if, regardless of any relentless, grit-fueled training, they were simply born that way.
They are easy to spot no matter where they are because that invincible first star dwells in their eyes. They are so dazzling that you cannot look at them directly without sunglasses.
But now, I suspect that if someone can deliver a heart-piercing expression without apparent effort, it is because they have already fallen under the curse of performing for an audience elsewhere. Perhaps in a different judged sport, the performing arts, a career that depends on public favor, or even the theater of their own private life.

One’s entire way of life is laid bare in their performance.

And beside the rare eccentric who can sublimate a flashy, decadent way of life into radiance, any personal struggle, prayer, or artistic achievement a common soul like me could ever hope to weave would pale in comparison—I once lived with that thought.
But then again, a peaceful approach is simply the best, after all.

—

PS 1: I successfully passed the Expressive Ability evaluation of the astronaut selection exam.

PS 2: The "invincible first star" in one's eyes is an allusion to the anime Oshi no Ko, where stars symbolize the ultimate charm and charisma required to succeed in the entertainment industry.