ONE's Mark and KODO's Yosuke rock on Miyake

My first live KODO concert experience started with a pleasant surprise. By being at the right place at the right time, my son and I got to go backstage at Symphony Hall before the concert and meet some of the KODO people. One performer was practicing shime-daiko with bachi that were tapered almost to a point. He was drumming very quietly, and very rapidly — an extremely difficult combination! — right on the edge of the drum head. Unusual bachi, unusual technique, unusual skill. Yeah, I thought, this is going to be good.

Good is a wholly inadequate word to describe the events of the next couple of hours. Phenomenal, astonishing, spiritual, inspiring, and awe-inspiring — now we’re getting warmer. The precision, the creativity, the energy, the pure joy that the performers displayed was incredible.

We had seats in the balcony that were close enough to spot some of their spike marks on the stage, see every nuance of expression on the performer’s faces (beads of sweat too!), and viscerally feel the drums. I spent much of the concert literally on the edge of my seat, leaning forward, straining to absorb all that I could. I was actually tired at the end of the concert!

ONE performs Mahora for KODO

I was completely captivated by their first piece, Zoku. My second favorite was their rendition of Miyake. I paid particular attention to the Kiyari singers, as I am a singer-wannabe. I want to learn how to make that guttural, catching sound that gives their voices such a primal quality. And I was completely blown away when the Odaiko soloist, after playing like a madman for ten minutes or so, jumped down and went straight into playing Yatai-Bayashi. I think he played in all of the rest of the songs in the concert, just in case there was any doubt about his superhuman stamina.

Later, ONE hosted a reception at our dojo for KODO. It was a thrill, and an honor, for us to be able to play Mahora for them. It felt good, like we were giving something back.

I am left with a renewed sense of commitment to do everything I can do become a better taiko player. KODO, thank you for the inspiration.

Yesterday, I washed the minivan and picked up all the kids’ trash from the back seat. Today I tried on two different outfits before leaving and put on makeup for the first time in months. As I head out the door, I’m quite nervous!

But before I can meet and pick up my dates, I watch them in concert. (So this part is more like a stalking than a date.) I and my Odaiko New England cohorts are gathering for Kodo’s one-night concert at Symphony Hall in Boston. There are 100+ of us here from ONE’s extended family. While waiting for the show to begin, David Wiggins and I have fun spotting our friends here and there among the sold out crowd of 2600. The excitement builds! The lights dim!

Some drummers enter the stage and begin playing. They’re so young! Two more enter and pump their fists at the crowd as they join the others. Well, there goes my impression of Kodo as the somber elder statesmen of taiko! Kodo’s opening piece, Zoku, builds relentlessly. It’s wonderful. Two very big hira-daiko in the back are gracefully attacked with big clubs. I’m pretty far away, yet it makes my hair move. When the rhythms of the big hira coincide with the chus, it’s utterly satisfying!

Kodo plays Monochrome

But my favorite piece of the night (at Symphony Hall, anyway), is Monochrome. I’ve always liked the way a good shime player sounds and feels like an engine driving a song. Now seven shime-daiko are set on stage. But when the drummers begin, I’m not hearing an engine so much as a peaceful, soothing drone. The drummers pass echoes up and down the line. It’s beautiful. Now something’s changed and the peaceful drone has turned surreal. The sound grows. The power and volume increase to a frightening degree. The drummers’ thin, ultra-tapered bachi flash in a blur as they evoke an enormous freight train approaching from a great distance to overtake the stage. The onslaught recedes, giving way to new patterns. They sound intense. Dangerous. I’m hearing the soundtrack of a locust swarming scene in a horror movie.

Note to self: Must start On Ensemble’s 30 Days to Better Shime program.

The concert ends all too soon, but out in the lobby, the excitement doesn’t. ONE members find each other in small groups and share impressions. Some of our group head to the dojo to set up for our reception. I and a few others are sticking around. We’ll be waiting for Kodo to drive them to the reception.

Eventually it’s time to meet my dates at their hotel. Jasmine Hall and I stand around waiting, glancing at other people in the lobby. Is that person from Kodo? How ‘bout the guy in the corner? Eventually Mark H. Rooney arrives to make the introductions. We stand around staring at each other because most of us speak no Japanese and most of them speak no English. This does not bode well for our date.

With Mark’s help, I get four of them to follow me to the minivan. I’d forgotten to take out a car seat, which amused Kodo as they decided who would sit in it. As with any typical blind date, the drive is filled with awkward silence and the occasional attempts to start a conversation. Unsuccessfully as it turns out. The young woman sitting beside me told me of the giant mosquitoes that bite her children on Sado Island. Later, when I ask how old her children are, I learn she has no children. So I’m left to wonder what the giant mosquitoes were biting. And to remind myself to avoid Sado Island.

Despite our language and skill differences, I think we all had a great time at the reception. We played for Kodo, Kodo sang for us, and in between, lots of friendly jamming. I’d ask them out again, but I think they’re back on Sado Island enjoying the mosquitoes.

Sheilarae holds the Ji while Kenta Nakagome of KODO readies himself for a Miyake solo

It may have been the first time anyone has participated in a jam-session Miyake with Kodo while wearing an LBD (Little Black Dress). It was certainly the first time I observed such a thing. For sure, a Kodo drummer pounding out a wild, macho Miyake on one side of the drum, with a poised, elegant American woman (our own Sheilarae, looking like she just stepped out of a box at the opera) in a chignon and little black dress kneeling and composedly holding the ji on the other, is a unique sight. With taiko, truly, all things are possible. And what can one say about the opportunity to play for and with Kodo? I guess it’s like a garage rock band having a chance to jam with Sting.

After feeding Kodo in the luxurious atmosphere of our dojo basement, we ONE community members performed Mahora for them. Was that a bit arrogant? I’m not sure; it was more like a tribute. Some people were nervous:

Perform for Kodo? Omigod!

But I wasn’t worried. It’s not like we had a chance of impressing them anyway, and Mahora is a noisy, power piece that entails more enthusiasm and energy than finesse. But I have to say this: I have never drummed with more confidence, commitment or energy. Everyone felt it: not fear, but a white-hot excitement, snapping out energy like lightning strikes, and the drum-thunder ringing out after. Our Mahora went off like an explosion, a volcano, a fireworks display – all because of the cheerful , unassuming Kodo members sitting in front of us.

But that was the reception.

About the performance: I saw Kodo the last time they were in Boston, and I don’t remember being so completely blown away by the odaiko piece. When the gigantic cart carrying the Odaiko was rolled downstage it looked like the preparation for something ominous, a sacrificial rite – perhaps a human sacrifice? When the two odaiko players leapt onto the cart wearing nothing but white loincloths, they reinforced that image. But when they began to drum, the context changed, became orgiastic, a relentless pounding sexual physicality. As the duet rose to a climax, I thought of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. In the ballet that accompanies the music, a sacrificial victim ultimately dances herself to death. Watching the sweating, nearly naked odaiko player with his back to us, I began to wonder if he was going to do the same. When he completed his solo, jumped down to the stage and without a pause launched into a horrific Yatai Bayashi, I was sure of it. We could finally see his face, and it was extremely uncomfortable to watch. He was in agony: Taiko as Human Sacrifice.

That member didn’t come to the reception; we were told he was too exhausted. Anybody else would have probably have been dead. In any case, the next time I think I’m ready to collapse during an oroshi, or after Miyake, I’ll think of that incredible Odaiko performance effort, which will put my own puny difficulties in perspective.