Akio Takano has devoted his life to studying the compositions of Johann Sebastian Bach and now works for a research center dedicated to the great German composer. 

But outside of his life obsession, Takano's life has not been as soothing or harmonious.  

A quarter-century ago, Takano, now 60, lost his job, developed depression and hoped to die when he went to bed, not wanting to ever get up.

What enabled him to finally find his true calling despite all those difficulties was public livelihood assistance. 

In Japan, discrimination against welfare recipients remains rampant. A discriminative comment insulting people on relief and homeless individuals recently caused controversy on the internet.

Takano is raising his voice against such discrimination as one pulled out of despair by the welfare relief program, arguing that everyone has the right to have hope when morning comes

“As a person saved by the public protection system, I must spread my message again and again,” he said. “Living on relief is nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone has the right to receive the assistance.”

STRUCK BY BACH 'THUNDERBOLT'

Takano was born into a poor family in Toyama who ran a small pub. He stayed at a 4.5-tatami-mat room with live-in staff.

In his third year at junior high school, a music teacher gave him a ticket to a Bach concert. The experience struck him like a thunderbolt, prompting Takano to frequent a library’s audiovisual room for the pieces by “the father of music.”

After entering a college in Tokyo, Takano frequented the music library in the Tokyo Bunka Kaikan hall in the capital’s Ueno district for vinyl titles. He spent days that way after his graduation from university while working part time.

Turning 30, Takano visited Germany’s Leipzig, where Bach spent the latter part of his life, to coincide with the reunification of East and West Germany.

Takano told a pastor at St. Thomas Church, for which Bach served as music director, that he wanted to study the composer. The minister allowed him to stay at a church room for the purpose.

He since aimed to return to Leipzig once he saved up money from his part-time job in Japan.

In his homeland, Takano could not join a relevant academic society to research Bach because no one would write him a letter of recommendation for an amateur scholar. He made up his mind to study Bach just for pleasure and joined a gardening firm in Tokyo when he was 34.

But Takano found it difficult to fit in with his peers at the company. He started feeling fear about seeing others after only six months and lived a sealed-off existence from society after quitting the firm.

He ran out of savings in two years and his gas and water were turned off. Takano went to a convenience store to pick up food that had passed its expiration date and at night dreamed of going to sleep and never opening his eyes again.

Following a chance encounter with a friend, Takano was advised to see a psychiatrist. He was diagnosed as having depression.

Seeing Takano taken by ambulance to a hospital to treat his malnutrition, his doctor told him to apply for public assistance. Though Takano knew little about the program’s detailed workings, he was relieved to realize that he would be able to live off that.

The first explanation from a local welfare office’s staffer was that everyone “is legitimately eligible for livelihood protection.” Takano was then given two 500-yen ($4.50) coins to tide him over for the next few days.

This offered hope for Takano. He remembers receiving 80,000 yen a month to cover his rent and food expenses.

People around him looked at him coldly. Takano heard from a friend that another acquaintance described him as “finished.” A long-time-no-see friend reunited with Takano and advised him that he “must work since you can still move.”

Hearing those words, Takano smiled awkwardly. Takano felt no sorrow or regret because he was making the most out of every single day.

LOSING HIMSELF IN BACH

In the face of hardship, Takano did not stop showing up at Tokyo Bunka Kaikan’s library to be immersed in Bach’s music. He heard Bach’s pieces playing in his mind while staying at home. Thinking about Bach made Takano look forward.

One day, a plane ticket for Leipzig arrived at his home. It was sent by the pastor, who had taken care of him and was worried about his circumstances. His physician explained to the welfare office that Takano's trip was “part of his treatment.”

Takano promptly left for Leipzig, where he was asked by an acquaintance who was a musician “how do you want to live.” He spontaneously replied, “I want to live with Bach.” 

Takano visited the Bach Archive Foundation, a research center of Bach that organizes the historic Bach Festival and keeps handwritten scores and other materials, so he could work there in whatever fashion.

Takano was allowed to distribute the musical festival’s leaflets at concert venues in Japan for a monthly salary of 30,000 yen. It was the first time he was paid for something that was Bach related.

Shortly following that, Takano stopped receiving welfare benefits and became a permanent official of the foundation when he was 40. He had lived under the public assistance program for four years, which allowed him the opportunity to find his calling in life.

Takano has never spent the two 500-yen coins handed to him at the public welfare office, so they remain in his possession. 

“Some Germans around me live under a system equivalent to Japan’s livelihood protection, but they all proudly lead their lives,” said Takano. “The program is like a training period for one to go to the next stage in life. Those around the recipients naturally accept that.”

Takano said he wants people in serious difficulties to never give up on life and to look forward to seeing the dawn of morning. 

He cited a phrase from the Old Testament that he loves: “Weeping may last for the night, but there is a song of joy in the morning.”