An Anechoic Chamber for Whiskey: At Satsuma Shuzo’s Fire God Distillery

MFAC

The port town of Makurazaki City, Kagoshima Prefecture, enveloped in the smoky aroma of bonito flakes.
We visited Satsuma Shuzo’s Fire God Distillery located in this port town.

Actually, the anechoic chamber here was manufactured and delivered by Sonora Technology last September. (To be precise, it’s a semi-anechoic chamber.)

───Why an anechoic chamber at a distillery making whisky?
This time, I’d like to look back on that slightly mysterious connection.

For this visit, I was accompanied by our company’s Chairman.

From Kagoshima-Chuo Station, we drove for about an hour, passing through the expansive Chiran tea plantations. Eventually, a port town where black kites circled overhead came into view. Across the sea rose a picturesque mountain silhouette—Mt. Kaimon.

The first thing that struck me about this town was the scent. A soft, smoky aroma seemed to waft through the entire town.

Reading this, you might wonder, “Is it a smoggy city?” but it is actually quite the opposite. It was the fragrant aroma of katsuobushi (dried bonito)—a scent exactly like a smoky whisky. It was incredibly pleasant, filling the air with a freshness that made us think, “Wow, that smells amazing!”

We parked at the distillery and headed toward the visitor center. We were greeted by a mass of concrete stripped of all unnecessary ornamentation, contrasted by greenery reminiscent of a Japanese garden.

While blending harmoniously with the mountains and fields of Makurazaki, the structure stood with a modern elegance that gave a distinctly “Japanese” impression.

As the doors opened, we were greeted by the reception staff from behind a brick counter.

We were then guided through the facility by Mr. H, whom we worked with during the construction of the anechoic chamber, and Mr. M, the Chief Blender. As we toured the grounds, they explained the various innovations required to produce their “elegant whisky,” detailing everything from the production process and storage methods to their uncompromising dedication to the casks.

We returned to the visitor center for the moment we had been waiting for: our first look at the anechoic chamber. Normally, we are only accustomed to seeing industrial anechoic chambers—spaces that are strictly functional and brightly lit.

As we pushed open the heavy door, we were met with acoustic wedges standing dimly in the darkness and a bar counter bathed in a soft, warm orange glow. There, emerging from the shadows, was the golden whisky.

It brought to mind the sentiments expressed by Junichiro Tanizaki in In Praise of Shadows. He observed that Japanese beauty dwells not in brightness itself, but in the faint light piercing the dark and the shadows that linger there. Standing in that space, I felt that exact sensation.

Two glasses of whisky, marked “A” and “B,” were set before us for a comparative tasting.

“We will return in five minutes. Please enjoy,” our hosts said, before leaving us alone in the room.

I won’t go into detail here to avoid spoilers, but although the two whiskies were crafted with only the slightest differences in their recipe, the contrast in their aromas was overwhelming. (As the designated driver, I limited myself to enjoying only the aromas.)

Afterward, we moved to the “RED bar” by the window to enjoy a tasting flight of four whiskies, paired with chocolates infused with Hinokami whisky. (Some had notes like [○○○], while others smelled like [○○○○○]… they were truly, completely different.)

I must say, I deeply regretted coming by car… Next time, I definitely plan to visit on a private trip so I can take my time and fully enjoy the tasting.