Adventures in Los Angelandia

Just got back from LA and am promptly on my way to Hawaii to spend a Hawaiian New Year there. I've heard it's quite a party, and an experience nonetheless for a mainlander like me. It was good to spend time with my family. We had our usual X-mas dinner at my Aunty's and I realize now that I did little else but eat and do the usual chores around the house. What could be better than eating really good food for several days? My Dad tirelessly spent time trying to fix an annoying leak on my car (he is a genius, and devised a fix from junkyard fittings and some hose and clamps). We went to my favorite sandwich joint, Philippe's, and my favorite Mexican restaurant, Diana's for killer Menudo. 

I drove in today from LA, and though the drive was pretty much eventless, what with the lack of Tule fog and the sometimes traffic-stopping snow on the Grapevine, I was exhausted nonetheless. I woke up at 3:30 in the morning and coasted the way up Highway 5.  I stopped for coffee somewhere in the darkness, and munched on Marukai Musubi somewhere near Harris Ranch, which by the way, can sometimes smell hideously like cows. 

I spent this evening unpacking from LA, and then repacking for Hawaii, in between a well-deserved nap that should have gone on and on, but that I forced myself (by the will of my alarm clock) to wake up from. 

Sleep now. And then an airplane. And then paradise, where the low promises to be higher than today's high. Hallelujah, people!

It's Jazz, Man

Had my first session with jazz musicians last night. Not jazz musicians collaborating with taiko players, but as a taiko player collaborating with jazz musicians. This is definitely a learning experience for me. I embrace it, really I do. But there is a part of me, a tiny part really, that had to snicker in the deepest reaches of my soul when Janet asked when we were supposed to come in, and he said, "Oh, maybe five minutes after the end of the sax solo." So ok, that's what I'm in for.

But I don't want to belittle it. I think there is a large part of me that feels very comfortable holding back and waiting for direction. I like being told exactly what to play and when. Then I can be a perfectionist. I can rehearse, obsess, practice--I have control. I know what to play and when to come in. But with jazz, it's different. There is a lot of feeling of things. I think this is something that works for me. I am a feeler. I sense things, intuit things. I trust my gut more than anything, and more often than not it ends up being right. I know that one of the great hurdles I must overcome as a taiko player is letting go of that sense of wanting to control things, and instead trusting my intuition and gut and just let that intuiting side of me shine through. I have to trust all the things I have learned, all the hours I have spent working on patterns and rhythms, and just allow my hands and body to play. I know these things. I can play them. I can use them as a tool to express all the joy and all the emotions that music embodies that no other medium can capture. But there is a part of me that always holds back. There is that part of me that always wants to be in control, rehearsed, practiced, thought out. If I could just let go! If I could just let it all come out of me, then I would gain such tremendous confidence. 

Well that's a thought.

I mean, I've been writing for a few years now about how I am trying to approach my whole life with an open, beginner's mind. And though I never want to lose that sensibility, maybe it is time to acknowledge that I have learned things. That there are many people along the way who have instilled knowledge and confidence and spirit. I need to take all those lessons and try to apply it. 

This is something to think about. There is always a feeling of stages that I am going through. Like I'm on this journey, and no one is really guiding me, but I always feel like there is something I need to address and work on. The first lesson: learn everything. The second: learn how to learn. Now maybe the next lesson is to learn to trust myself and my experience and learn how to carry my lessons with confidence. It really is like jazz. Take what you know and play with it, innovate, interpret, have fun with it and just let go. 

I will have to work on that.

That's a hard thing, but yeah, I think I'm on to something.

Busier Than Ever

Last Friday we had our student showcase at RCW.  My students did awesome. They were all smiles and good energy and the audience wanted more, which is exactly how we like leaving them. They worked hard and kicked butt and I hope they are happy with their great achievement. But now that all of that is over with, I thought I'd have some time and space to breathe, but no, it's not like that at all.

The next pressing performance is a gig with Mark Izu and "friends." Not quite sure who all his friends are, but we go into rehearsal next week for that, and Janet had me go over stuff with her. I have a feeling that it won't be a "play this thing now," kind of thing. The direction may be more nebulous and open to creativity and interpretation.  Which is why I'm glad that Janet likes to always be prepared, and I'm glad we had a little session today. I think this will be more nerve wracking to me since I'm not used to this kind of style but it will be good experience for me. They're jazz musicians so I'll just play it cool, man, you know, like jazz.

I'd also like to work on my new song, and we've created a shift and opening up of the piece that leaves it more up to me to figure out what to do with it. This will require some quiet time with my practice pad and my imagination. It's the time part that I'm short on.

Also Michaelle is teaching us cool little things and I want to just go over them all day. I'd also like to work some of the rhythms she's shown us into taiko parts. What's great about her class is that everything we're learning is exactly the opposite of what I've ever been taught about taiko. For one thing we are learning hand drumming, which means you hit the drum with your hand. I remember once we were trying to lug taiko from one place to the next and I got yelled at for touching the head of the drum with my finger. Jeez. Now I have to play the drum with my hands and there's this itty bitty part of me that fears someone is going to jump out of the woodwork and yell at me again. Also we've been working on stick stuff and there are times we play the side of the drum with the stick, which is also a big taiko no-no for me. Some groups hit the side of the drum, but ours didn't (because it makes dents, and somebody has to sand all those dents out eventually). I am really trying hard in this class. I have a hard time remembering patterns, and that is a challenge. I'm a slow learner, and I'm glad Michaelle is always so patient with me, and I'm glad also she pushes me and makes me learn variations. She keeps it interesting, although anything we do is interesting.

And finally I need to come up with syllabi for next session's classes. I'm going to try a new approach to the beginning class. I'd like to make it more fun and less work for them. Less pressure to go home and practice. I'd like to see if I can keep attrition to a minimum if I make it more fun for them. Then if I see that there are more serious minded folks I can eventually ask them to join the intermediates, which is where I'll ask them to work harder. It'll be an experiment. Less stress for me, and for them. Janet warned me that I may not like having a class like that. We'll see. 

So back to work for me. But this is good though. Work on skills. Work on my class. Work on performance. Work on creating my own song. I like this. Just wish I had more hours in my day.

Projection

On Friday my students are going to be in their first RCW Taiko performance, which for the majority of them will be their first taiko performance ever. I resist the urge to project my own feelings upon them, but I can't help but feel them anyway.  I don't think I remember what my first performance was, but I certainly remember significant performances--the preparation, the hard work, sore muscles, the stressing, the nervousness. You get there and you hear the crowd before you see them. Your stomach twinges, your palms sweat, your heart flutters. There's that thrill and excitement in the air. You get up there, in front of friends, family, strangers, and do the thing that's been such a long time coming, and then it's over, just like that. And then maybe you realize it's not the performance that was significant, but the actual build-up and anticipation and all the work went in it to get you there. I'm personally not a bit nervous about this Friday's performance, and I feel a little proud saying that. I mean I've been there already.  But no way do I take that for granted. There are still performances that make me feel as green as the first day I picked up a pair of bachi, that make me all nerves. During our first Ghosts and Girls show I was standing there behind the curtain that separated us from an auditorium filled with people (we could hear them!) and I didn't know what to do with all my nervous energy so I started doing silly dances and stuff with Crissy. So I hope that this recital means something to my students. I hope they realize how hard they have been working. How all the energy they have expended in class works toward something.  How they have contributed to the community that RCW strives to create. 

Or maybe I'm just projecting. The experiences that taiko has brought have come to mean a lot to me, so maybe I just remember and process these experiences differently than, say, my first driving lesson, or whatever. But maybe I think that you gain similar significance in your life with whatever it is that means something to you. There are lessons to be learned and taken away and applied to the rest of your life. This recital doesn't have to mean that to my students, and I don't expect it to be, but I hope that if there is anyone in this class who wants to take taiko, or music, or performance, or the arts more seriously, then I hope that all their hard work pays off for them in the long run. They worked hard. They asked for rehearsals every week before their recital when I asked for nothing more than showing up for the requisite classes. But my philosophy is if that if they were willing, then I would be there to encourage it.

So the best of luck to them all. Break a bachi!

I Got a New Hoodie!

I've been needing a new hoodie and I got a good one today! Check out the new RCW hoodies! You know you want one too! I'm not taking this baby off until it gets warm again--like maybe April or May! You'd have to peel this off my frigid dead body if you ever wanted to get your hands on it. Get your own--really!

We had a good rehearsal today. We worked on the new song I was helping Janet on. Makes me realize I need to get back into taiko shape. Slant stand stuff is hard--there's lots of movement and it's easy to wear yourself out. But it's oh so worth it. The song moves from being in 6 to being in 4. That's a workout for the brain right there. I'm glad we don't have to solo over a 6-groove. There's three of us on slants and two more on sets of small drums. It's sounding really good now even in its cocoon stages.

I also heard our recording of Kai to Ryu today. It's pretty awesome. They did some magic tricks to make it sound good, but you'd never know. They also added a touch of reverb at the end that gave it an extra sense of Oooh! When we recorded I insisted we redo a section that we messed up on. Not something that a regular person might hear, but it was something I'd hear and know and groan about for the rest of eternity. It sounds good, yo. Kai has always been such a struggle for me. Oh, all the blog entries I've written about that piece! Oh, the horror, Oh the struggle and defeat and triumph. That song has haunted all my days, but we've finally made something I'm proud of (although nothing could make me feel more triumphant than when we performed it last at Born to Drum)

Next Friday we have our Taiko Class recital. My students will be performing Mokuyobi to a live audience. We've been working really hard on this--the students have been working really hard. And it shows! At rehearsal last Tuesday they rocked. I had an anxiety dream about the recital last night. I dreamed that we had reworked the whole song and I just couldn't remember the new sequence. It was like those dreams where you show up to class and realize you forgot to study for an exam. I just couldn't get the sequence down no matter how many times I went over it. I was contemplating writing it down on my arm so I could play with them. I also got there late and had forgotten my black tabi. Oh it was horrible! I'm going to pack my costume right now!

But I know it will go great. If I actually showed up in that condition I know my students would just carry the performance on their own. Come check it out:

Rhythmix Student Showcase
Rhythmix Cultural Works
2513 Blanding Avenue
Alameda, CA 9401
510.865.5060
December 12, 2008
7:00 pm
FREE!

Come on by and see what the other classes are up to!

For Mom

I miss you.

Watching It All Come Together

I've been helping Janet with a new piece she is composing. It's been interesting seeing the creative process at work. I'm there as an extra set of hands and a second opinion. At the first Taiko Conference I went to, they had breakout sessions and one of them was on the composing process. Janet was on the panel along with other taiko greats, and I thought they would be talking about how to compose music. Like, step one, get out a sheet of paper. Step two, write out a general outline of the song. Step three, get 3 pair of dice and light a candle and say the kuchi shoga backwards in the bathroom mirror. Instead it turned out to be a meandering session on philosophical stuff that just wasn't helpful. Not that they didn't have interesting things to say--it just wasn't as practical and hands-on as I thought it would be.

But these past few weeks with Janet I've gotten to witness her thought process, and the way that she fits ideas and pieces together into actual music. It's all very organic. I've been struggling with composing my own song, and it's been good to see how it's actually done. She uses her bag of tricks and isn't afraid to just throw things together. One of the things she said was that if you just work at it long enough taiko just starts to sound good and come together--and it is! She's going to present it to the rest of the group next Sunday--and I get to help! I'd like to see that part of the process too--the presenting, the collaboration and negotiation and compromise and new ideas and perspectives and opinions. How do you take your baby that you've been nurturing and growing and submit it to the group for input and feedback and re-working? I'd like to see how she handles herself. 

I kept smashing my knuckles on the slant drums. I must have a lot of form stuff to work on. This is good though. I mean, it's one thing to be a student and to play what they tell you, but to be a fly on the wall in the creative process is a new step forward. It's like finally getting to sit at the grown-up table at Thanksgiving.

Onsen

I'll take one of these please. And maybe one of those cold-water dunking tubs too. And maybe the excellent company of the Kasa/mix ladies too.

Ouchie

I have a neck/shoulder ache from Hell. These things last several days. It's hard to sleep and even harder to look over my shoulder to change lanes.

I am so glad I have a bye week from taiko classes.

I just wish I could spend these days in the onsen. That would fix everything.

Between You and Me

Here is a video from Fright Night. I'm only showing this to you because you're either a friend, or related to me, or because you took the trouble of coming all the way out here to this corner of the internet universe.  This is not something I'd show to just anyone. No way. This is a side of me you'll never see anywhere else and you are free to laugh you're butt off,  but just don't remind me of this later and don't ask for an encore. Enjoy. I think Crissy and Janet are hilarious!

Handedness

I don't think that my left hand is a part of my body. 

I don't. 

How could a part of my body be so foreign to me? How could a part of my body completely disown me and pretend to not know me altogether? I mean really, my brain is the boss, right? Why then when I ask my right hand to play something it completely agrees with my brain, while my left hand pretends that it hadn't heard the command? Why doesn't it follow orders? Why the adolescent delay? You know how it was when you were a teenager and your parents told you to do something, and you were like, OK, but not because I want to, but then you did it anyway, because you had to. That's my left hand. And it's not like I'm asking it to do anything weird. I'm not asking it to dress up and wear pastel shirts with shoulder pads to their 8th grade picture day or anything (speaking from experience). Mostly I want it to do the same thing the right hand just did, but in rhythmical time. My left hand is such a punk. 

I've been working on sticking drills and I just can't get my left to keep up with my right. The only thing that gives me hope is that Michaelle said she still can't get her left hand to do what she wants--and she practices every day. Ok then. And still I bet that her left hand keeps better time than my right, hands down (get it? get it?).

My newest obsession is trying to get my double bounce roll to sound good. What trips me out is switching from those skinny western sticks to bachi.  Going from western sticks to bachi is like trying to floss with rope, or trying to eat with a ladle instead of a spoon, or wearing clown shoes to a marathon. Do you see where I'm going? But it's good though, because the skills still carry over. Michaelle said it's the technique that shines through, and no matter what you play, if you don't have the skills, then it doesn't matter. 

Which means I need to get busy with my practicing. Every day.

I'm Learning the Conga!

I'm learning the conga and it is so much fun! I think the funnest part is that my brain is being forced to learn rhythm in a completely new way.  Instead of playing with sticks, I'm using my hands, and there is this heel-toe thing that is new to me. I feel like I'm getting two hits for the price of one and it totally throws me off--but in a good way. And we're learning the music in a more methodical, counting fashion. Not that there's anything wrong with kuchi shoga, but I'm actually learning things I already know but from a new perspective. Like tonight I was learning a bell pattern that had been taught to me two different ways before, but now it was this entirely new way, and it made so much more sense. It's refreshing, and I like it. Also when my teacher thinks that I've got a pattern, she likes to push me a little harder, and while the rest of the class is working on a rhythm, she'll reach out and tap me on the arm and motion to her hands, and I'll realize all of a sudden that she is introducing a variation, so I'll have to start playing the same rhythm, but a little more difficult and interesting. I like the way she doesn't have to say anything to teach me new things. I really appreciate that there are people in this world who push me. And Michaelle barely knows me, but she pushes me, and I am thankful for that.

Playing with my hands is a trip. I've been so busy at work shuffling papers, and when you move paper around like that you get hands full of paper cuts. I've got a particularly nasty one that I was afraid was going to pop open tonight, but it didn't, and phew!

I've also been trying to take our notation sheets (So helpful! So un-taiko!) and playing with my new garageband software to get the sounds recorded so I can hear them. I can't read western notation very well, but I'm learning! This class is great! I think I feel my brain growing.

Learning new kinds of drumming is so awesome! Tonight was my percussion class and we warmed up with some very basic drills. I love drills. If I could I would drill all day long. Michaelle threw in some toe-tapping  along to the patterns that made everything completely different and challenging. When I first learned taiko I was taught that if your feet left the ground that you lose your connection with the earth and all its energy. I like that philosophy, but learning to tap helps you understand the music and rhythms on a different level. It's good to get these different perspectives. Neither are wrong.

The focus of the class is conga, and though I originally wasn't interested in learning conga, the things we are learning now are profoundly interesting and informative about rhythm and its roots and its complexities that don't immediately present themselves when you first hear them. It feels so good to challenge the brain and get it out of its usual rut and comfort zone. I look forward to more learning!

Flu Shot Time!

Time to get your flu shot! I got mine today! It stung like  #$%@ but it didn't give me the usual day or two of ick and yuck and blah. I feel fine! Knock on wood. But seriously, the prick was only for a second, and the stinging only lasted an hour. Way better than unexpectedly crashing half-way through your day and then spending the next week in bed in a semi-conscious delirium while half-watching court TV and eating top ramen and leaving behind a trail of kleenex wherever you go. 

But you know, whatever. Up to you.

Escucha y Repita

When I was younger and learning spanish, I remember having to listen to a record of some disembodied spanish speaker (whom I always imagined was wearing bell bottoms and a turtle neck and maybe some clunky jewelry) and she would always preface whatever she was saying with: "Escucha y repita," which means listen and repeat. She nailed the intonation and rolled those r's so that escucha y rrrrepita is like a mantra of mine.

Anyhow I say all this because my taiko journey has been just that. My latest project is making some shime stands, and although I've made a stand once before, I wanted to make the tripod-ish version of the stand. So one night I borrowed a stand and made my own diagram and measurements of this:

And then went to Home Despot and got a bunch of lumber and screws and other hardware, and then flipped through this book that Janet gave me:
. . . and after a little trial and error and a bunch of just jumping in with a handsaw, some clamps, and my trusty drill gun, I came up with this: 

I bought those T-shaped metal braces but I don't think I need them. What do you think? I think it's sturdy enough as it is. I used a lot of glue and nice long screws. The other shime stand at RCW doesn't have the braces and I think it's holding up well. Plus that's nice birch hardwood.

I'm thinking of tung oiling that baby. I just need to make the crossbar thingie that connects the bottom sides together, and then it's done! One down, 2 more to go!

Fright Night Wooooo!

This past Saturday was Fright Night at RCW. It was the only fundraiser of the year for RCW, and based on the crowds, I think we did pretty good. Me and a couple other Maze folks helped Janet out with her Yokai Monster dungeon. We made at least one child cry, so of course it was completely worth it. Yes, I painted myself green, as seen here with Freakishly Tall Girl and Bad Santa (but without my shell. A shame that I didn't get any pics of myself in full kappa regalia):I am never putting on that green make-up ever again. As soon as I slathered it on it felt absolutely disgusting. What made it worse was that I was sweating like a fiend, and my sweat would fly around but it was green. I have green stains on my josuke and shime to permanently remind me of Fright Night. Now, I've said time and time again that I love green and it's my favorite color, but come on people, this is taking that obsession to a completely different level. But it was fun, really.

The other work-live units each hosted their offerings to Fright Night. My favorite was the rendition of Picasso's Guernica. In addition to the visual delight, they were actually a band playing live music. It was cool stuff--I wish I had stayed longer to hear more of it:It was also great to see Rhythmix transformed from modest cultural center, to a deadly house of horror:This is the haunted cabaret. It had a "bonedelier" (think chandelier) and creepy cobwebs and strategically placed ghoulishly dead dummies. Crissy screamed every time she walked in the door and was greeted by one of them. It was lifelike, I have to admit.
That baby is creepy, huh?


Janet preening a fellow Yokai:
Crissy, a.k.a. grudge girl:Fun! Hope you made it, and if not, maybe next year!

Water Water Everywhere . . .

I've got 40 feet of birch and all I need are a couple of bar clamps. And maybe a mitre box. Just wait, this pile of lumber is going to transform into 3 shime stands, yo!

Ok, Ok, not THAT pile of lumber in the picture. My pile is too lazy to be photographed.

Fright Night Prep

Today I met up with a whole gang of RCW folks at a place where they were having a huge costume blow-out sale. Janet is totally in the spirit of Fright Night, and she has some of us Maze people featured in her haunted house. There are 6 or 7 work/live units at RCW, and everyone is transforming their spaces into Harrowing Halloween Hostels of Horror! Janet's theme is Japanese Yokai monsters. I once took a test to find out which Japanese demon I was, and it turned out that I was a "kappa," or water/turtle demon that likes to eat children and fart and look up women's kimonos. I did not know that about myself! But it was funny because as Janet was thinking about what sort of creature I should be, she chose the kappa. Weird!

At the costume place today, I found an Oreo costume, which I transformed into the turtle-shell Kappa outfit above. I also found some cool green gloves and that raffia stuff. I've got zombie fingertips, green make-up and green hair color. We'll see how it all turns out. It should be creepy!  If I frighten just a few children then I will count this as a success.

Come on out and check out Fright Night for yourself! It's a fundraiser for RCW and it promises to be lots of fun. Oh, and bring the kids too! Bwah ha ha ha!!

Clave and Life and How Things Come Back Again

Tonight I had my first real lesson about clave. That's hard stuff. I mean, rhythmically the clave pattern isn't hard to play, but understanding how it fits into the rest of the music is another thing. It's not a straight beat--it drifts away from the downbeats and comes back again. It links all the pieces together. It changes from the first bar to the next but always comes back home again. It could take years to really understand all the complex ways clave works, but it does work and when you hear and know what is going on, it's a little like magic.

I've been taking beginning drumming lessons from this wonderful percussionist/teacher named Michaelle. I first met her at drum camp 3 years ago and was instantly in awe of her. I think everyone who sees her play is. She can play everything and she can play it perfect. That's not an exaggeration. Perfect timing is how Janet describes her. Actually what first impressed me about her was this one moment at the first drum camp 3 years ago. A student came up to her during a break between classes and asked her if she was going to teach tamborim. But Michaelle said she wasn't, and the student was disappointed, and half a beat later Michaelle said, "But I can teach you a little something right now," and she sat the student down and started teaching her a pattern. You could see how much the student appreciated it. That drum camp was special for me because it opened my heart up again to the world. I was mourning the loss of my mother then, and I felt lost, and I felt like I had lost my connection to music and people. But then Janet, the last flickering light in a world that had gone dark on me, asked me to come to camp with her and it was as if she had yanked the curtains open and let in the dazzling brilliance of daylight. She brought me to this special place where all these wonderful and inspiring women were making music together--this whole community--and I was invited in without question, and the whole experience brought me back into that world that I missed so much. Seeing Michaelle make that one connection with that one student is something I'll never forget. The spirit of that moment was so completely unselfish and embodied all the best things about sharing knowledge and kindness.

It all comes back full circle, doesn't it? Now I am taking a class from Michaelle, someone I would have never met on my own, who in a moment's time taught me so much about compassion and teaching, and I've taken that moment of kindness and try each week to carry that spirit with me as I teach my own class, and in my class I strive to pass on the lessons that my taiko community have taught me, all in a space created by Janet, who taught me much of what I know about taiko in the first place and who also has her own unique and wonderful vision about how art can create community. It kind of blows my mind a little thinking about all this tonight.

And I think this brings us back to clave again. That's what my journey is like. It's confusing at first. It has its surprises. It takes time to understand. But in the end it all fits together. You don't realize how important it is until you begin listen and see how all the disparate parts of your life come together and reveal themselves. About how each person is a beat that touches your life and makes sense of it, even if it takes years to understand why.

A Day at Studio D

Today we recorded a few tracks at a place called Studio D for a Ghosts and Girls related project. I have never stepped foot inside a recording studio before. I've never recorded anything professionally before. I've never even been in spitting range of such expensive mics before.

A few of us loaded in last night. My first impressions of the place were a mix of awe and naivete. Awe because there was so much high tech equipment and cool isolation rooms and computers and soundboards and giant speakers and acoustic panelling and the personnel were professional and knew everything. And there was the extreme naivete on my part because I just wanted to exclaim wow! and cool! and, this is just like in the movies! 

We set up the drums and they microphoned us and put mics up to pick up the "room." I have no clue about these things, but later when we actually recorded it sounded fabulous. It sounded much more immediate than when you play them live. 

And with all those mics around picking up everything, they did just that--picked up everything. Every sound. Every don and every ka. And every hesitation and missed beat. We recorded a little last night in sound check and listened to it and I realized, omg, those mics don't miss a thing. After I got home I went straight to the chasm to practice my timing. 

Today we recorded Chikara, a song so beautiful that I still get goosebumps sometimes when I hear it. The hard part of the song is the timing. There is a lot ma, and to make it harder, the song is in 6/8. Our first take was just awful for me. Second and third takes weren't much better. My problem is that when I'm nervous, I lose my confidence, and when I lose my confidence, I'm late. And as we were all standing there in that absolute silence, headphones on, mics on, the engineer setting things up in the booth, I started to get nervous. I don't mean just jittery, but full-body nervous. I've never been so nervous to play a song--ever. My whole body went cold and I started to shake, and of course when we started playing, that made me late and after that first missed beat, it's hard to get back.

After a while my nerves were starting to get the better of me and I had to force myself to focus. I had to tell myself to stop being nervous, and to just stop thinking too hard and to just feel the music and embrace it and allow it to take over my body and give me the joy and happiness that fuels my love for taiko in the first place.  After that it wasn't easy, but I managed to stay in time. I tried to strip away all my personal insecurities and I looked over at Janet and tried sinc-in with her breath and energy and play with her and forget that we were recording and instead tried to make music. 

Joel, the engineer guy, was a wiz at the controls. After we recorded a few takes, he managed to take the best parts of each take and pieced them together seamlessly. I don't really know how he did it. He would ask us for our input and then would start clicking away at the computer. He has mastered the use of the word "standby," which for some reason makes everyone shut up as he does his magic. Joel is great and funny too. Here is a pic of me and him at the controls. Of course I'm not controlling anything, but he was nice enough to let me look like I was:

After we finally were happy with Chikara, it was time for Kai to Ryu. For extended (and I mean extended) commentary on my trials and tribulations with Kai, do a search for it on this blog. I have struggled over this song for years. But after my last experience with it at drum camp I have released Kai to Ryu's power to intimidate or conquer me. I have been through every incarnation of frustration, depression and resignation. Janet said the song would be stressful to record, but I absolutely refused to let that guide me. We did a few takes of the song, ran into the usual brain farts and road blocks, and finally had something to piece together. But there is one tiny little moment that is a leap of faith to pull off, and just so beautiful when it goes right, but we couldn't get it right today. After we went through the song with the engineer, he asked if there was anything we wanted to work on, and I decided I just couldn't live with myself if I didn't mention that little part that we never got right during our takes. So we went back out and tried it. The first time was as bad as the original. The second was no better. And the third time I psyched myself up, looked over at Janet and said to myself, this is going to be it. And we nailed it.

And now that it is over, my brain is tired. I have the biggest head ache ever. But I won't end this on that note. We took some fun snapshots in between the stressful moments.

Matt the studio assistant looked strikingly like Josh Grobin. Crissy couldn't resist the urge to exploit the comparison:

Janet and Crissy hamming it up in Mark's isolation booth:

Me and my Kai to Ryu set-up:

Sheesh. I am glad I have this under my belt. I learned a lot about myself and the recording process. It is not easy. But now I have some things to think about, and some things to work on. More later when we get the songs mixed and mastered and all that jazz.

sigh.

I'm exhausted!

Bachi in the Dark

I have wonderful students. They were totally game when I proposed a bachi-making workshop. When you pound away week in and week out, the bachi get splintered and beat up. The purpose of my workshop wasn't to get free labor to make more bachi for the community bucket, but to try to show them that the things we play, be it the taiko or the bachi we play them with, come from somewhere. That work and love go into those things. Yes you can buy bachi, but wouldn't it mean so much more if you made them yourself? Does the pounding you do on a drum every week mean something more when what you pound it with something you made youself?

I went to 4 different stores to find the dowels for the bachi but dowels were cleaned out every where I went. I probably shouldn't have proposed a bachi making workshop without securing the dowels first, but I managed to find enough, and phew.

I've been meaning to do this for a while, and the one tactical error I made was that it gets dark early these days. I was blessed by a warm night without fog, and again, by great students who didn't mind sawing and sanding in the dark. They seemed to have enjoyed the process, so I am glad. Now they all have their own bachi to love and take care of (and practice on their own with!).

They made me proud!

Fright Night at Rhythmix Cultural Works!

Bring the kids and come on out and participate in Fright Night at Rhythmix Cultural Works! It should be loads of fun. It's a fundraiser too!

Saturday October 25

Freaky Family Fun 5:30-7:30pm Haunted House and Kid's Costume Contest
Kids $5 or $10 (with Costume Contest entry) Adults $10 BUY TICKETS

Haunted Cabaret 8pm-midnight Haunted House, Costume Contest and Masquerade Ball featuring Lee Presson and the Nails! $35 or $50 with costume contest entry
BUY TICKETS NOW!

Rhythmix Cultural Works
2513 Blanding Avenue
Alameda, CA 94501
www.rhythmix.org
510-865-5060

Work Out!

Today I went to the gym for the first time--ever! Well, ok, when I was on my high school cross country team we went to the sweaty-boy gym a couple of times, but that doesn't count. Today, after being a part of the Mills community for something like 11 years, I finally stepped foot in our gym. One of the perks of being employed by the college is getting to use the facilities, and I've always been scared of going in the gym for some reason. But not today.

I don't know how to use the equipment, so I was guessing my way through the stairmaster, the cycling machine, and I asked a friend how the heck you get the treadmill started. Treadmills are strange things, and running on one felt a little like cheating. I ran a mile, and I have to admit, it was nice to see my hypothetical progress around a track on the display. Now I have no excuse to skip running on those rainy winter days. I think I like real running better, but I could get used to this.

They also had other weight lifting machines that I could see myself getting into. My dream is to one day have nice calves, but I have realized that after miles and miles of running, that I just don't have the build for nice calves. A little strength would be nice though.

Actually I just need to get up and moving because I can come up with all sorts of reasons not to work out--especially when the days grow short and the weather cold. I'm glad I finally got my foot in the door here.

Fun at the 49ers

Today we got to play at the 49ers pre-game show. It was a fun and easy thing, and we also got to watch the game afterward! Awesome!

I've never been to a football game before, much less stepped on a football field. The grass is soft but the ground is nice and firm. And the lines and numbers aren't as chalky as I always imagined. They're kind of painted on.Anyhow, the plan was for us to get on the field and set up in less than 2 minutes, do our song, and then get off. But of course, you can't just roll taiko drums onto grass, no matter how firm the ground is, so they enlisted the help of nice strong guys to carry the drums on the field and help us set, and then run back on the field when we were done to carry them off again.
My guy was Mike (the guy in the front with the white sleeves), and he was was the best. He'd check in on me and make sure everything was ok and that he was available to carry my drum. All the other girls were jealous.

The theme of the song was music from around the world. They had other performers there representing Africa, Brazil, Europe and Australia. The song brought all these groups together. It was kind of cheezy but fun nonetheless. We had some help representing Japan from the Taiko Ren folks. (They're in concert in a couple of weeks. Go check them out before they sell out)It was over as fast as it began. Fun. And then we were free to watch the game. It was my first football game and the 49ers won! Bonus! They never win when I watch on TV. Maybe they needed to hear me yell "Kill them! Kill them!"

Jet Lag

I've never had such a tough time recovering from jet lag before. It's actually surprised me how hard it is to get back into the swing of things. I'm usually a bouncy-back kind of person, but this week has been awful. Mornings are the hardest. Waking up is hard, but getting through the mid-morning hours are the hardest, and I am such a cranky-pants since my body still thinks it's those late-night hours between 2 and 5 in the morning. Things usually pick up for me in the evening, and by bedtime, I'm wide awake and happy again, so I don't get to bed until midnight. Which makes waking up harder. Vicious cycle. My co-worker said the weekend ought to offer some redemption. All I want is to sleep. And the worst part is that I have to resist the urge to sleep when I need to stay awake, and I can't bear the thought of sleep when it is most convenient.

Things should be better next week, I hope.

Kasa/Mix 2008

I don't even know how to begin to recap my wonderful trip to Sado Island to study dance, song and taiko drumming with the folks at Kodo. It was an amazing experience. It was a dream. It cannot be encapsulated in a blog post. Everyone I talk to says they can't find the right way to describe the trip to those who weren't there. There is so much internal reflection that needs to happen before coherent thoughts can get put down on paper, er, I mean, on the internet. But if I don't post something now, I won't ever get anything down. It's taken me three days to get this post out. So, I will just post my pics, and hopefully get thoughts down somewhere along the way. Pics are worth a thousand words, right?

We landed first in Tokyo and the were immediately whisked away to Kanazawa, a city on the western side of Japan. It took us 24 hours to get there, when all was said and done. The following day, we stopped at the Asano taiko factory, birthplace of my shime, home to great taiko craftspeople for 400 years. Here is a pic of some trees being seasoned for a few years before they are formed into the more familiar drums:
And a pic of one of the biggest drums I've ever seen, along with my RCW peeps and Toni, one of the tour leaders:
We got to take an unprecidented tour of the factory (no cameras, please). Then it was a short stop at the Asano drum store where the Kasamix participants cleaned out their bachi supply:
Our first real meal was at a noodle place, where we got to cook our noodles ourselves at tableside stoves. This was a real treat to me since I live for noodles:We spent a day in Kanazawa and we got to see the Kenrokuen park. And yes, that is me eating GREEN ice cream. I could have gotten chocolate, but chocolate is not green.Less than 24 hours later we were on the ferry to Sado Island, off the western coast and in the Sea of Japan. Isn't that a lovely name, The Sea of Japan?As I was standing there in the back of the boat I thought of my Dad, and what a great opportunity this would have been for him to troll for fish off the back of this big boy. Too bad I didn't have a good reel and a sturdy pole.

Welcome sign to Sado:
It was a long travel day, getting to Sado. After train and ferry, we where taken to an onsen in Ogi, a seaside town on the island of Sado. OMG, if I die and go to heaven there will be an onsen. An onsen is a Japanese hotsprings, or bath. You get right down to your humanity, stripping down to your birthday suit, bathing and soaking in hot water with the rest of your brethren, or your female ones anyway. It was the perfect way to strip away our modesty and shyness (since there would be little privacy during our stay on Sado anyway). I've decided there is nothing better in the world than a good, hot bath. After all that hot water, tour leader Crissy said the best part is sitting in the tatami room afterward with cold tea and ice-cream. Your body is relaxed, your soul refreshed. This is what absolute relaxation looks like:I'm telling you: this is heaven.

As if it couldn't get any better, we were taken to Hananoki, an inn owned by the same people who ran the onsen. This is the next stage of heaven. Clean, calm rooms with the sounds of insects chirping. People pay good money for recordings of those insect symphonies. We got to hear it live.Yes, that's the waxing moon up there in the sky.

The best part of the journey was yet to come, since we hadn't arrived yet at the Kodo Apprentice center. But before that, we arrived at the Kodo welcome center, which is the contact point between the public and Kodo proper. There they had demo drums and they let us pound away as much as we liked. I've never played such wonderful, authentic drums before.Oh, we could have stayed there for hours.

But if we did, we would have missed a very brief visit to Kodo village. They were rehearsing for their concert tour, so we could only stay a minute. They even played a song for us! (No cameras, please)
And then we needed to get to the kenshujo, or apprentice center. This is where apprentices train to audition into the Kodo taiko group. Much to my surprise, they were outside when we got there, playing music and giving us the warmest welcome I've ever received.
The kenshusei, or apprentices, were the ones who took really good care of us during our stay. They were responsible for housing us, for feeding us, for entertaining us, for protecting us (from man-sized insects, among other things), for making real life connections with us. Yes, the Kasa staff organized this trip, yes the Kodo staff made it happen, but it was the kenshusei who made this trip the worthwhile experience it was. Special props to Joe-san, our native English speaker and fellow countryman from the states. Hi, Joe!!! You are my most far-off reader of this blog. Thank you thank you thank you for welcoming us into your home, for making us feel a tremendous sense of welcome, for translating for us, for leading our excercises, for giving us the time of our lives. Thank you Joe-san. And thank you to your brothers and sisters. From my heart. Truly. Thank you.

Here is my room, one of the two ladies' rooms. What a great welcome:It's the little things, you know?? Actually, they put in so much time and effort to make things so perfect for us. I cannot imagine how much hard work that went into just feeding us 3 times a day. There were teams of people making sure things went right. All we saw was the love and the seamlessness of it all, but they were up when we were asleep. They worked while we played. They were working for days before we even got there, and probably days after we left. I felt a little bad because we wanted so much to connect with them and spend time with them and I saw that sometimes they weren't able to eat because we wanted to talk and they had to run off to work or practice before devouring a mouthful of food here and there.

We had a workshop our first day with the venerable Eiichi-san, legendary Kodo player and really great taiko teacher. You see this guy on stage and he is a god, and that's a little intimidating, but he made it so easy for us. Personality transcends language barrier. He kept saying, this is just a game! and then we would all relax and he would do his little Eiichi-dance and then we would stop stressing and have fun with our playing. We played kenshujo drums. Janet has a drum like these and I don't even want to touch it or even help her move it because I know its her most sacred baby. But we got to play them as joyously as we wanted:One of the most memorable experiences for me on this trip was that first night. As we were settling into our strange and new futons, Toni came in and said we ought to take advantage of the free drum playing time they had offered us. I grabbed my bachi and went out to where the drums were. It was joyful and free and lively and happy. Someone started playing matsuri basic beat, and everyone joined in. I started goofing off with my student and a former SJT player, and oh what fun it was! We traded drums and jumped and danced and soloed. Great fun. All spontaneous. Pretty soon the rest of the group was playing matsuri, and I said to my student: See! I told you! If you know how to play matsuri, you can play with any taiko player in the world! So true!And with that, the next days were filled with song and dance and taiko. Yoko-san had us singing our hearts out. I never sing in public! There were major breakthroughs in that workshop. Many of us (me included) were non-singers before the workshop, but with Yoko-san's gentle guidance, we became singers that day. One of the kenshusei, Shingo, just broke down with how overwhelming it was. His goal in life is to bring his passion for the arts to the rest of the world, and he saw it at work that day. Sniff.

Chieko-san taught us Hachijo style taiko and dance. Beautiful. I think one of the most basic, yet profound things she taught us was how to bow and greet each other. I think that is so important. Before the trip I had asked Crissy and Janet to teach me how to bow, but we never had the time, but Chieko-san's workshop showed me how and I am so grateful. I decided that I wanted to make that part of my own classes, and I think it's so important to show each other that sort of respect. I bowed when I was a student before, but I never felt like I had learned what I was doing before Chieko-san's workshop, and didn't feel like I could ask my own students to bow to one another without me knowing how or why.

I was given the great honor of being part of the Kasamix team that taught people the song Issho Ni, which Crissy, Toni and Janet composed to give to the Kasamix participants and kenshusei, and also to the rest of the world. We had to perform it in front of everyone and I was a tangle of nerves, but we pulled it off:Then I had to teach it and I felt really bad because there was hardly any time and Crissy and Toni said to just plow through it and hope for the best. I had the hardest part to teach. I don't like it when people get lost or left behind, but I had no choice. So, sorry to anyone out there who left my workshop frustrated. I would never do that in real life. But I think enough people got it, and everyone got to play and dance Issho Ni, which means together.

Sigh. I wish I could recount all the things that happened, but if I just sit here and try to think about how to write it down then I won't get any blog posted. Ok, moving on. . .

Crissy playing fue at a kenshusei rehearsal:Crissy is awesome. Have I ever said that? When Janet said that this Crissy-person was going to join Maze I felt a twinge of intimidation because after all, she is a former Kodo apprentice and former SJT, and I was a peon. But the first moment she walked through the doors at RCW she ran over and plopped down beside me and started chatting with me like an old friend, and before I knew it we were giggling away. We're still like that. I've always had so much respect for her experience and accomplishments, but going on this trip has made it so much more clear why I respect her.

Another one of the great honors was being able to watch the kenshusei perform for us. You could tell how much they loved to perform, and having 30 enthusiastic and supportive fans in the audience was probably great for them too. But not as great as getting to see them. They were so precise and simultaneously beautiful, it was hard to take them all in. I needed more sets of eyes:
This is shime tightening. Look at how badass they are:The last night they threw a giant party for us. We stayed up late taking goofy pictures, enjoying sake, each other's company, and eating!I took so many pics of food there are too many to post here. I tried everything, no matter how dubious it was. From the guts in steamed crabs, every kind of raw thing pulled from the sea, to natto (fermented soy beans). In fact, I ate natto almost every time they served it. People say it's gross and stinky, but I didn't notice any smell. The stringy consistency is a little weird, but mostly because you wonder if you still have cobwebs hanging out of your mouth after you take a bite. But I did good. Here is natto with some mustard and mystery green-goop:Also dubious were the bugs. Big ones. From praying mantises to dragonflies, to beetles to centipedes. There were horribly mean and gigantic wasps (Crissy got a nasty sting. She said it hurt, and you can drop a dumbbell on her head and she wouldn't say it hurt, but this bee-sting must have killed her because she admitted pain), as well as these babies, which scared me more than anything. This one's for you Alex:They have funny smiling goblin faces. That's not my hand. No way I'd ever get close to one of those. And this is a small one!

On the day we left we had a session for people to reflect on their experience. It was an emotional day. This trip meant so much to everyone. I would feel bad commenting on comments, since this was such an intimate and personal session. But there was love and appreciation. I don't think anyone left that session without a deep appreciation for our experience there at the kenshujo, and a deeper apprectiation for our lives in general.

We rushed to take as many pics as we could before we left:

And again the kenshusei pulled out their drums and played for us as we left. They even chased the bus all the way down the road until we were out of sight. Sigh.We visited the onsen again. As we were all sitting in a large circular tub, someone started singing, and we all joined in, our voices swirling together in the steamy air. It was beautiful. We had one more night at Hananoki, and were joined by the Kodo folks. Chieko dancing:At the port we were joined one last time by the Kodo folks. They played and danced and waved goodbye, waving long after the boat had left the port, until all you could see were streamers dancing in the wind, far off.Strangers at first. Friends now. What a wonderful opportunity. Thanks to Janet and her staff for their vision. Thanks to the Kodo folks for their wisdom. Thanks to the kenshusei for their wide-open hearts. Thanks to all the participants for their energy and comraderie. Thanks to everyone who believes in taiko as a vehicle to bring all walks of life together, Issho Ni.