I was participating in a special New Year’s event for Cambridge Masters Swim Club.  The swim was broken up into units of 100 yards swum on timed intervals.  I chose 1 minute 35 second intervals for each 100.  All I had to do was repeat that 100 times.

There were 7 people in my lane when we started.  One by one, we launched into our swim, leaving 5 seconds after the person before us.  The first few 100’s were easy, with lots of rest, and plenty of time for our coach (Abe) to check on us.  I felt like it would be a piece of cake.  That didn’t last.  About 2/3 of the way through I started wondering if I was going to make it, but two things kept me going.  One was the moral support of my two dear friends who took a moment to cheer me on, though they had not been able to keep going themselves.  The other was taiko.

What’s good for a taiko player…

Shigeru maintains a stable frame while playing odaiko. (Photo courtesy Lauren Poussard)

I’ve often thought about taiko while swimming, as the two activities have  a lot in common.  In particular, swimming is often like a slow oroshi.  Both involve the careful coordination of your entire body, while keeping to a steady rhythm.  Staying relaxed is a big part of maintaining endurance, and the details of arm movements can really make a big difference in either activity.

Though I’ve been aware of this for quite some time, it’s become much clearer to me in recent months.

At the end of October, Mark and Juni were off in Switzerland for a week, performing with Marco Lienhard of Taikoza.  While they were away, the other ensemble members took over leadership of the community rehearsal.  Each led a separate segment of rehearsal, which serendipitously built up in a wonderful way: from Shigeru’s segment on body awareness, to Kristen’s oroshi involving mindfulness of our motions, to Karen’s segment on observing one another while playing a song.  It was a wonderful practice, and a real change of pace from the previous few months which had included a lot of intense preparations for performances.

One of the many things that really struck me during that practice was something that Shigeru said.  He explained that he’d noticed the importance of maintaining one’s frame across a wide variety of activities.  From taiko to dance, to swimming, golf, basketball, etc., athletes and performers who are good at what they do, are good at maintaining a strong and stable frame.  (You can think of the shoulders and hips as the corners of a body’s frame.)

He is so right!  It doesn’t look good if a dancer dances hunched up on one side, the best swimmers do not twist much as they swim…  This doesn’t mean that people are completely rigid, but rather that they maintain square shoulders and a stable core while staying relaxed.

When we moved on to Kristen’s segment, she talked about using our koshi: starting the motion from the core–so that we aren’t just using our arms to drum–instead we are using our whole bodies.  Engaging muscles in our cores allows for much greater strength and endurance than if we rely on our arm muscles alone.

All this was reinforced by a visit from Kaoru Watanabe a couple of weeks later.  I was lucky enough to participate in two sessions with him, one on body mechanics playing on yokodai, and one on Yatai Bayashi.

Kaoru focused on starting movements from one’s koshi, and allowing one’s arm to follow along.  He broke it down in an exercise that allowed us to focus on moving a single joint to hit the drum, gradually working from wrist to elbow to shoulder to koshi.

He noted the importance of good posture–mostly emphasizing that we shouldn’t allow ourselves to hunch over as we play.

He also discussed the concept of the unbendable arm, using expanding muscles in your arms and back, rather than the strength of one’s biceps to keep your arm straight while under outside pressure.

Here’s a video which describes the same concept:

This is an important concept for taiko because you usually focus on bending your arm as you bring it downward to hit the drum.  Shifting your focus to expanding the arm outwards has a big impact on what muscles you use, how your arm moves, how relaxed you can be while playing, how it looks, and how long you can endure.

…is good for a swimmer.

Much of what Kaoru, Kristen, and Shigeru shared has translated into good advice for swimming.  The first time I jumped into the pool after Kaoru’s visit, I started thinking about those expanding arm muscles; and the more I thought about it, the more I could feel the motion come from my back.  The more I engaged my back, the stronger I felt.

When I swim I’ve always known that the power in my kick comes from my thighs and buttocks, not at all from bending my knees or flexing my feet  (in fact, I keep my knees and ankles almost completely relaxed).  Yet until Kaoru put the last piece in place, I never made the connection that what was true for my legs is also true for my arms.

As I continued my swim this morning, I thought about those connections: the expanding arm muscles, maintaining my frame, finding strength in my core, and using my back muscles to move my arm.  Focusing on these things allowed me to continue.  Though I was tired, I was able to maintain my intervals, finishing the swim 100 yards at a time, stroke by stroke.  I was swimming like a drummer, and I’ve never gone so far in my life.

During two of my workshops at Taiko Conference I’d had the opportunity to play on a Remo shime.  Although they don’t  quite have the same sound as the genuine hide drums, I thought they seemed pretty decent.  I guessed that they are less expensive than a lot of natural skin shimes.  Also, as a vegetarian, I’m always wishing that there weren’t animal parts involved in my music-making.  So, I started fantasizing about getting my own Remo shime, but when I found out the price ($625) from Remo’s website,  I figured it would be a while before I got one…

…but what the heck, I’ll see what’s being sold on eBay…

Just what I wanted!

There she was, a used Remo shime, and I won the auction at a price I could afford!

When she finally arrived, I opened the box with glee, but…

“Ew!  It smells like an ashtray!”

Before cleaning, the smoke residue came off on my bachi tips.

How did she end up smelling so bad?  Taiko is such an athletic activity, I don’t think many taiko players smoke.  Maybe she used to hang out in smoke filled bars and nightclubs.  She’s a hard working showgirl.  I think I’ll call her Smokey.

Whatever her past, she’s moved in with us now, and I’ve promised to give her a new and healthy life.  Fortunately, after consulting with the helpful customer service at Remo, I found out that I could clean her heads with Windex and body with furniture polish.  Then with Joy’s help, I changed the rope.  She’s gone from stinky white synthetic to elegant wine-colored hemp.

Cleaned Up and Retied

And thanks to Smokey, I finished 30 days to better shime on schedule!

I think it is rare to see such impressive musicianship and excellent teaching skills in the same person, and even more amazing to find a group of four people who work so well together in both of those respects.

They split up the job of teaching us so that each member of On Ensemble taught us something about a different aspect of playing taiko specifically, or playing rhythms in general, all in the context of learning a new song.  Some of the time they taught us as a large group, but for learning the individual parts, they broke us into smaller groups (Maz led my group).

Overall, it was really well planned.  I totally appreciated the fact that they stuck to a well organized schedule, while maintaining a relaxed atmosphere, and did their best to make sure everyone got a chance to play frequently.  When I wasn’t playing I was air drumming along, or doing my best to absorb the details of what the group that was up was doing.  I was sometimes sleepy, but never bored.

The music that we were learning was a new concept for me in more ways than one.  Shoji created something both clever (the sections followed a formula between loud and soft) and intricate, with an deep, pulsing, groove.  At the end of the day, he emphasized the fact that he’d created this as open source taiko…  meaning that we SHOULD take it home, change it up, and make it truly our own, without even crediting him for the song.  He didn’t even give it a name so it can become an entirely different thing for every group that plays it.

STI culminated in playing what we’d learned in front of an audience (whoever Kris could convince to come).  I was relieved to be in the back, playing Odaiko, where I wasn’t super visible, so I wasn’t too nervous.  Instead it was a fun way to end our lessons.

Me with Carrie Carter of All Things Taiko. OC does not mean Orange County.

I’m really sad that STI is over…  three days hardly seems enough.  However, Taiko Conference proper is just about to begin.  We still get to hang out with other players.  For example, the three of us had dinner last night with Kelvin, plus John-Paul and Matt– two of the other participants.  We also have an appointment to rehearse taiko games with Kris this evening.

I’m so glad that the end of STI is not the end of my taiko vacation, and am looking forward to being surrounded by a mob of additional players.

Another note: It was great to see some old friends from the KASA/Mix trip again, including former Kodo apprentice, Joe, as well as John-Paul, and Marinda. I was also pleased to meet fellow STI participant Carrie Carter, writer of All Things Taiko, and to discover that like me, she went to Oberlin College!

Just over a week has passed since ONE’s 15th anniversary concert, reVISION. Everyday life is flowing by so fast that I haven’t had much chance to reflect on the experience. It fades into the past so quickly…

reVISION was probably the most challenging performance I’ve done as a taiko player– in large part because I wasn’t just playing taiko.

I played 4 different instruments: electric cello, sanshin, chudaiko, and kane.

Electric Cello

(The Biggest Challenge)

Nowaki with Marshall Hughes. This was a richly layered song involving taiko, violin, voice, and cello. Photo by Joe Foley.

I played cello for 9 years (from age 9 to 18). At the time, I didn’t have the discipline to practice enough at home, though from 7th through 12th grades I played with the school orchestra for an hour 5 days a week. One reason I didn’t practice enough was that I didn’t believe that I could tell when I was in tune–I always felt like others could hear something that I couldn’t. I’ve since learned that I can hear, but that it takes training and practice to be able to hear and respond while playing.

In other respects I lacked confidence as a cellist– especially the longer I played, the more I noticed what I did wrong. I got more and more nervous about soloing, though I still really enjoyed playing with my high school orchestra. (Hmm, and now I prefer kumidaiko to soloing.)

I could go on about my past life as a cellist, but the main thing is that I stopped. I went to college and, for many years, I rarely touched my cello. Then one day Cat revealed that she wanted to learn to play her super cool electric cello. I agreed to teach her in exchange for the motivation to practice again.

Fast forward a year and a half, and Mark is putting together a couple of exciting new songs for our 15th anniversary concert, and the new songs involve cello! So, along with guest artist Marshall Hughes, I got to play cello in reVISION. It was great to be able to perform on a cello again, though remarkably after all these years, the same fears and anxieties resurfaced.

Sometimes It’s Okay to Stand Aside

Those fears were okay when it came to playing the relatively simple, but utterly cool cello parts in the Intro, Kaminari, and Nowaki. However, there was one song I wasn’t ready for. The ensemble played “To Fly” written by Ann Ishimaru of Portland Taiko, which has an absolutely gorgeous melody part originally written for fue and violin. We were going to play it as violin and cello.  On somewhat short notice, I was assigned the cello part, which could have harmonized beautifully with guest artist Yael Bat-Shimon’s violin.

I practiced on my own quite a lot, had some extra practice with Yael, and found that while I can play pretty nicely in tune and in tempo on my own, it becomes much more difficult to play with others… especially very loud drums. Even with an amped electric cello, it was very difficult to hear myself over the drums, match pitch with Yael, and keep up with the tempo. My old fears resurfaced. I needed to practice a lot, and due to the nature of my profession (landscape designer), this is the most challenging time of year to find the time.

I found some time, but not enough. In the end, I realized that I wasn’t quite ready and felt too much stress about it. So, I discussed it with Yael and then Mark, finally asking to be relieved of the job. The piece was lovely with Yael alone, and I was so relieved, it made everything else seem a lot easier afterward.

It was really difficult to face the fact that I didn’t feel ready, I was worried that I would be disappointing Mark and Juni, that I would be messing things up for the song… but I knew in my heart that this time, it would be better without me, and I would be better in everything else without it. I feel very fortunate that I could talk with Mark about my fear, and he made it easy on me.

Island Stroll with Diane. I hope the audience couldn't tell how exposed I felt. Photo by Joe Foley.

Sanshin

(My Newest Instrument)

I picked up sanshin in September 2008, while visiting the Kodo Apprentice Center. So, I’ve played sanshin for less than a year, and somehow it is much less stressful to play than the instrument I’ve played the longest. Strange, but true.

I was paired with Diane for “Island Stroll,” a somewhat improvised cheerful tune that was placed to cover the transition between two other songs. Diane played a swing beat on a sanban, and I played my own tune on my sanshin.

It’s not easy to be one of only 2 people onstage, but I had a lot of fun interacting with Diane. I did feel very exposed, so I think I may not have been as lively as I’d like, but I think we pulled it off! At least we look like we are enjoying ourselves in the pictures.

Chudaiko

(Finally Beginning to Relax)

I got to play chu in the opening of the second act. It was Hamon– Mark’s intricate and energetic composition, which we first began learning about a year ago.

I love playing Hamon. I love playing chudaiko on a tate stand. I feel really good when I do.

Mark wrote Hamon when he was living in Japan several years ago, and it is a remarkable composition. He used rhythms from rock songs (especially one in particular from Michael Jackson), and created a dynamic piece in four parts. The interplay between the parts works marvelously.

Because we’ve been rehearsing it for so long, I really feel like it has seeped into my body. I don’t have to think as hard now. I do still need to focus, and there are challenging parts that warrant frequent practice…. but I feel the song.

Kane

(The Finale)

The last song in the concert was a reprise of Shin-en, with all of the ONE community members participating. I got to dance through the audience playing kane.

Clang, clang!

Loaded up and Ready to Go

So, here we are, coming out of our anniversary concert, and there isn’t much time to rest.

It’s my first chance to organize a gig.

I rashly volunteered to organize a performance for the Waltham Riverfest.  Megan Gleeson of the Waltham Cultural Council approached me about this performance some time ago, and since Waltham is my home community and this a new event, I volunteered to organize the performance from the ONE side.  I really want the Riverfest to succeed as an event, and I thought it would be fun to bring ONE to such a public performance in Waltham.

Now I’m learning exactly what it means to organize a gig.

So far, I’ve had to…

1. Find out all the general details (time, location, stage size, where we’ll unload, how long the set should last…).  This was the easy part, since Megan was super helpful.
2. Find out who would be willing to play.  We have a crew of six: Kate, Sheilarae, Joy, Matt, myself, and Tanya.  (Thank goodness I’ve got a good crew!)
3. Determine the set: Figure out what songs we can play well enough, what everyone wants to play, and then actually assign parts!  This was challenging.  I kept changing the song order, trying to balance things so that no one has to play too many songs…
4. Decide what we’ll be wearing.  (Our new black t-shirts, black pants, black tabi, and colorful hachimaki.)
5. Make a loading list with all the needed equipment.
6. Coordinate a little extra practice time.  (Thanks to Mark, and a fortunate rehearsal plan, we got to play 3 of the 5 songs as part of our regular Thursday night rehearsal.)
7. Communicate exactly what is needed and direct people as we gathered all the gear together at the end of rehearsal.
8. Fit all that stuff into 2 cars (in the middle of a heavy downpour).

And today I still need to plan out what I’m going to say in between songs!

Okay, somehow it looks simpler when I list it out like this.  Maybe I should have done that first!

I’m excited to see it all come together tomorrow!

Friday Night: San Jose Taiko in Keene, NH

Hanging out with San Jose Taiko after their show.

Wow!

One of the early numbers was a piece involving passing accented rhythms back and forth between two pairs of drummers.  I hope I can develop timing like that one day!  (Not only good timing, but the ability to execute it with lively energy.)

I was also impressed by Hana Hachijo peformed by PJ Hirabayashi (Karen’s Aunt!).  Her stance strong, her movements powerful, each stroke incredibly smooth…  her style was noticeably different from what I learned in a workshop with Chieko Kojima last September, but every bit as mesmerizing.

Those are just a couple of highlights from a truly enthralling performance, which ended with the performers dancing their way out the doors at the back of the theater, encouraging the audience to follow and mingle.

Afterwards, we (Tanya, Joy, Dave B, Karen, Amir, and I) got to hang out with the group over food and beer.  What a terrific bunch!

Saturday Night: Taiko Project in Stamford, CT

Gasp!

The show opened with a video montage on the history of North American Taiko, which blended smoothly into the first song, as they quickly established their exuberant performing personae.

The Stage is Set

The rest of the first act demonstrated a sincere respect for our taiko heritage, paying homage both to their own parents and to the people and groups that gave birth to our art form.  The sequence of song and video constructed a compelling story which climaxed with Tsunami at the end of the first act.  Tsunami was such a frenzy that Maz’ hachimaki flew off in the middle of the song.

The second act opened with ‘Behind the Odaiko’, a magnificent Odaiko solo performed with all the traditional trimmings…  plus we got to find out what the soloist (Bryan Yamami) was thinking (especially what he was thinking about his costume).  Diane suggests that our costume committee consider fundoshi for our next performance, as they make quite an impact on the audience.

Not all of their costumes were so traditional.  They switched between modern American athletic wear, clothing that hinted of traditional villages, and very nice taiko hapi…  by the end of the program they were in t-shirts and jeans.  Their clothing was always well suited to the piece and the story.

The performance drew to an energetic and elegant close with ‘Omiyage‘, followed by an encore on slung drums and accessories.

How do I sum up all that skill and energy in one place?  Inspiring?  Awe inspiring?  Something like that.

I would have loved to stay and socialize…  but some of us had to get back to Boston.

Sunday Afternoon: Yoyo Ma and the Silk Road Ensemble at Symphony Hall

Sigh!

The Silk Road Project is a wonderful concept inspired by the musical traditions found along the historic silk road.  It’s about cultural exchange through music…  That means that the music of the ensemble was influenced by many cultures from the Mediterranean to Japan.

This concert opened with an improvisation duet: shakuhachi and bawu, played while wandering through the audience.  It was lovely.  This was followed by a series of movements which combined haunting melodies and compelling rhythms.  I think my favorite piece rhythmically was the Saidi Swing which is based on a rhythm originally from upper Egypt, and which heavily featured the wonderful sounds of the Tabla.

While nothing could make up for the absence of taiko , it was a breathtaking combination of musical traditions… definitely worth carrying with me back to the dojo.

And in between all these inspiring performances, how did I spend my weekend?

Finishing my taxes!