Sushi Summit/ Kiai Power!

On Saturday a small group of us went to the California Culinary Academy in San Francisco to play a gig at the Sushi Summit. It was a day of sushi competition, sushi preparation, sushi tasting, sushi paraphanalia and sushi accoutremonts. There was sushi to the left, sushi to the right, sushi upstairs, sushi downstairs and beer and sake all over the place. Our job was to play two short sets of taiko between sushi deomonstrations by Sushi Summit sushi chefs--try saying that fast. It was an impressive place to play a gig--we had a nice little stage and when we came on, the sound of our fabulous playing pulled everyone away from their sushi and they watched us instead! Believe me, it's really hard for taiko to compete against food for attention. During the second set, there was a guy sitting in the front row and he had been sucking on a lollipop, but when we started playing, his mouth hung open and he was just sitting there holding the lollipop up next to his face--the whole time. It was funny.

But I also wanted to write about a lesson that Janet taught us in class just two days before this Sushi Summit shindig. As we were working on Cranes solos, she was telling us that we need to kiai more for the other players (kiais are shouts of encouragement--not necessarily words, but just good strong yelps that let the soloist know that their fellow players are rooting them on. It really makes a difference because it gives you extra energy). This wasn't the first time that we've heard this, but I think her explanation really hit home for us, or for me anyway. She was saying that all you need for yourself is enough energy to breathe and play basic, and the rest of your energy should be directed toward the soloist. So then she had us kiai-ing our hearts out to the other players. We went around the room doing kiai solos for the soloists and group kiai. Janet even demonstrated her kiai power, and I have to admit, I was a little afraid after that. Janet is a little tiny woman but if anyone were to mug her in a dark alley, everyone would hear it. She said it was her "stage kiai." I don't think I've ever heard anyone kiai louder than she did (Susan's word was "foghorn" which is actually a more accurate adjective and it makes me snicker, but no, that's wrong of me. Bad Kathryn, bad!...snicker). When I first started playing taiko, we learned a song called "Renshu" which means "practice" in Japanese. It's the song you learn when you are just starting to learn taiko, and part of the song has a "hup!" built in. I was so embarrased and shy to make such a loud noise that I thought, ok, I'll just fake the hup and I won't ever have to hup in taiko--I'll just pretend like I'm hupping. Yeah right. First off, you can't get away with not kiaing. And second, a good kiai makes you and the other players feel good. I mean, why even play taiko if you're not going to put any energy into it? And why would you put all those long nights and the occasional long weekend in to play taiko at all unless it makes you feel good? Kiai then! And that's what we did for the performance on Saturday. I kiai-ed more than I ever have, and louder than I ever have, and I think it added a different sort of dimension and energy to the performance. Some guy came up to me afterward and said he really enjoyed watching us because it seemed like we were really enjoying ourselves! And it's so true. I think I've unleashed my kiai-power, so watch out!