Process vs. Goal

I think I used to be a very goal-oriented person. There's nothing bad about that. Delivering what you set out to do is a good thing. It's productive. It makes you feel good that you've accomplished your goals. But now that I've been in the position to have delivered many things, I think that the process of what you do to deliver whatever it is--a speech, a solo, a lesson--I think now that the most important thing is the process. Often times the process is a struggle. Goals are destinations that don't come easy. That's why they're goals, and not a to-do list. You have to sit down with yourself and write the speech, or the solo or the syllabus. It's in those moments when you fight with yourself that you gain the most. It's when your doro tsu ku's are sloppy and off-beat with the metronome that you learn your greatest lessons. That's when you learn the most about yourself. For this past weekend's shows for instance, I had to work on drum rolls. I'm not the most accomplished musician in the world, and I got really frustrated with myself when my rolls went from nice and even and slow, to faster, to a soggy mash of spaghetti. But then that's when I realized, hey, I've got limitations. In order for me to deliver really great drum rolls, I have to learn to not try to play beyond my limitations and instead work with what I've got. So I stood up there in front of an auditorium full of people and played my rolls to the upper limits of the speed I could play a drum roll before it turned to spaghetti. And they sounded great. They weren't Kodo great, but I worked what I had to the utmost. I learned: a) that I needed to work on my drum rolls a lot more, and b) that what I already had in my set of tools would work if I would give it the chance. I didn't need to be Kodo; I needed to be myself. That's quite a lesson, don't you think? That's a giant leap and bound--to accept who you are, to embrace yourself, and to be willing to improve it, while at the same time, not crucify yourself because you're not something else--something unattainable.

I'm sure a couple of years ago I never thought I'd be here, be where and who I am. But there are a million small steps. Each step is not toward a goal, but each step is part of what makes the goal a journey. I cherish each challenge put before me. I never thought I'd have my own taiko class, but look at me now. Two or three years ago I was in the audience of one of Brenda's shows just admiring everything and now look what I've got under my belt! I never thought life had such lessons to teach me. Or that it could be quite as exciting as it is. I look forward to each day.

Ghosts and Girls

"Ghosts and Girls: The Legend of Morning Glory" was a great show. For those who missed it, it was a collaboration of storytelling, music and dance. It was something of a love story, but then since Brenda was telling it, it was so much more. Mark played bass and sho, Christopher gave everyone goosebumps on shakuhachi, KK danced, and Maze Daiko were on percussion. I don't even know where to begin. It was really wonderful to work with such great people. Brenda and Mark and KK are such pros at this, and it was magical to watch their process and the way the show developed and unfolded like the petals of, well, a morning glory. We had two great shows. Nothing went obviously wrong, and I thought all our performances were solid. It was a good mix of the different genres and I think people appreciated it. Everyone worked really hard week in and week out, but now that it's over it didn't seem that hard. Maybe because we worked so well together and because everyone put in so much effort to put together a really great show.

Part of the neat thing about this experience was that this was my first time I've performed in a theater that was set up just for us. I mean, yes, I've performed in theaters before, but usually it's a mad dash to move the taiko onstage, perform, and then just as madly, pack them up and get out. But this time we had the luxury of having a dressing room, and our own lighting person and stage manager and all those wonderful staff people who make sure everything goes smoothly.

And because I'm such an amateur, I got the greatest kick out of the dressing room. This is a huge step up from having to change behind someone's minivan. There were couches and a fridge and food everywhere and TWO bathrooms and mirrors and cabinet, and best of all: a jiffy steamer! I'd never used a jiffy steamer before, but if you ever come across one you have to give it a try! They're magic! I ended up steaming everyone's costumes. Of course I'm someone whose idea of relaxation is ironing all my clothes for the upcoming week.I didn't have a lot of time to take pictures. Plus there was a photographer there who was taking pictures of everything. I was trying to practice my kanki solo but it was hard because he was standing there for like 5 minutes snapping away. Here are a few shots I managed to get:

Crissy and KK rehearsing their dance

Preset for the show

Bachi station

View from stage right

Group photo

Here are a few lessons I learned:

1) There's a lot of hurry up and wait. I don't mind, since that's when all the interesting tech stuff happens. It's also the time you use to squeeze in all the other things you meant to do. Crissy and I cranked the shime again. She's really good at explaining and teaching things, and she was showing me great technique, like how to not hurt your back and when to pull. She and I snuck out during one of those waiting times to crank, and half way through Janet and Elaine came out, thinking they were sneaking out to crank shime. Ha ha, we beat them to it.

2) Never ask a child how old they think you are. It's not good for your ego. They will say things like, "forty-five!" (I am not anywhere near that, just FYI).

3) Learn to improvise and be cool. There was a moment where I had to run onstage and frantically push my drum around to simulate a particularly intense part of the story, but Brenda wasn't quite there yet, so I was kind of swirling around in circles all by myself, kind of stalling until she figured out what the heck I was doing up there. Janet said she felt horrible for me, but the director said it worked. I was on-cue, just for the record.

4) Your first lessons are your most important. Waaaaaaaaay back, when I was still playing with E-ville and Janet was guest-teaching us, she gave this little speech about composing solos. The gist of it was write it, set it, and then no matter what you think of your solo, PROJECT it. I've had my Kanki solo set for a couple years now, but I think for these shows, I've really embraced the projecting part. The first night it was really good, but the second show was my best Kanki solo ever, I think.

I feel very lucky to have been a part of this. I feel lucky to be able to work with all the great members of Maze every week. I feel lucky to have the privilege of making music and all that learning. I look forward to more of it. But today I need a nap. And maybe a giant bowl of noodles. And maybe the dumb Sunday afternoon movie on TV.

We do it all again on May 31st at RCW. Hope to see you there!

Cranky

Last night before teaching my taiko class, Elaine showed me the two-person method of cranking shime. We tightened two shime and now I know how real taiko players feel since the die-hard groups crank all their shime right before they play them. It's a good warm-up and there's nothing like feeling the sting of rope-burn on your hands.


Here is how the professional group Shidara tightens shime. We didn't look quite like this, but you get the picture:

Are we there yet?

We had rehearsal until 10 last night. I'm tired and have a headache today--I guess I have a taiko hangover! But it's good. The show is coming along really well. We had the entire gang there, including the shakuhachi player who just came in from Tokyo. We ran the whole show from start to finish and finalized (ha! Nothing is ever really finalized I'm discovering) our transitions. I think we're ready. Well I'm ready, anyway. I feel confident. Prepared. Excited!

On Thursday we'll be able to get into the theater, and then the show is on for Friday and Saturday. They'll all be long days, but the best kind! Hope to see you there.

Get your tickets soon: Ghosts and Girls: The Legend of the Morning Glory.

Phew. [with new editorial comment]

Eight-hour rehearsal yesterday. It was a good one. Worked out lots of stuff. One of my favorite things about this upcoming show is that KK, a young hip-hop dancer (among his many talents), is joining the show and adding youth and vitality and taking away from the always oh-so-seriousness we taiko players seem to always impose on ourselves. It'll be fun. I'm not nervous, but a part of me reminds me that I should be. I have stuff to work on.

I wanted to work on my drum rolls so went into the chasm when it was still daylight and came out later in darkness. When did it become 9:21? Also worked on studying my transitions and helping a student out on the big trip to Sado and I don't know what else. Time flies when you're in a chasm. It's past 11 now. I swear I'm in a time-warp. I wanted to be in bed by 10! Oh well. I tell my students the joke about saying "Oyasumi Nasai!" when we leave class (the joke is that musicians stay up late playing their music, so you say "Oyasumi nasai" first thing to greet your fellow taiko players--which is Japanese for "good morning"--no matter what time it is, because the stereotypical musician wakes up sometime in the afternoon), and I think it's actually kind of true. Well, it would be true if I didn't have a day job. Today in particular I had to wake up early and be at work early, dressed in a suit with my hair blow-dried and everything so we could make a nice impression on the incoming students. It's exhausting, but eh, I'm game.

[EDITORIAL NOTE: I totally got that mixed up. "Ohayou gozaimasu" is "Good Morning," and "Oyasumi nasai" is Good Night. Obviously when I was writing this post I had no idea if I was coming or going. I'm not even sure what my point was supposed to be]

Next Sunday our rehearsal is scheduled to go to 9:30pm, but I know better. My only wish is that I could actually wake up at noon, but I guess that's what Saturdays are for. Too bad Saturdays are as far away from Sundays as you could possibly get.

My Stomach is a Bottomless Chasm of Complete and Asbsolute Nothingness

Why am I so hungry lately? Yesterday I devoured my lunch, and I was still so hungry I went and ate another lunch. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon trying not to think about the box of donuts left out for everyone in the room next door.

I can already tell today is going to be another day like yesterday. All I can think about is sinking my teeth into a giant pepperoni pizza.

Go With It

Tonight's taiko rehearsal was a little confusing to me. Actually it was a lot confusing, but I didn't let it show. So I've been do ro tsu ku-ing my butt off, but turns out were not doing any of those, and we're just doing some dramatic rolls and other stuff instead. In my head as we were working on this I was like, huh? I thought we were going to be doing something completely different. When will that other part I've been practicing come in? But of course it didn't, and the one thing I'm noticing about this process is that it's very organic and always in a state of becoming, and I doubt anything will be set in stone by the day of the show.

But I've learned this lesson a long time ago: Just go with it. The more flexible you are the better. It's like jazz. Just be cool, man. Well, that's how I am during rehearsal anyway. Plus it's interesting to see where you wind up when you go off the road map. The only thing I asked for was a wink. I was like, Janet I'm gonna need a wink to let me know we're going to change from one thing to the other, and then she would make funny googly eyed faces at me and then it was cool, man. Smooth as jazz, yo.

I'm a tiny bit disappointed we won't be do ro tsu ku-ing, not because I practiced so hard, but I heard a sample of a performance with the sequence in it and it sounded way cool. But I'm really glad I spent all that time practicing because now it's a new skill in my box of tools. But whatever happens for the show is going to sound just as cool and amazing as that sample. Now I guess I better start practicing my rolls.

Ghosts and Girls

I don't know how to post pics on my side bar so here is a plug for our big show. Get your tickets soon!

Do ro tsu ku update

No one will care about this except me, but I'm at 156 bpm, yo! I started out at 90 a week ago. I think part of getting something like a rhythm into your body is just working everything out--all the things that you get hung up on or hypnotized by, or the distracting thoughts you think when you're trying to learn something. Once you learn to break those bonds then you can just flow and go with it. Kind of like when you pour a glass of water and slowly fill it to the point where it's brimming over and should spill over, but doesn't because water likes to hold together in that very precarious surface-tension way. All that tightening up of shoulders and having your mind race and your heartbeat getting all fast and sweaty palms, all that just needs to happen and processed and experienced so you can put it behind you. Then there's that point where the water releases its hold upon itself and overflows and you don't think about those things again. I think that's the point I'm at. Just tonight I was at 152 for 25 minutes, and if you want to count it out, I played the do ro tsu ku pattern 152 times a minute, multiply that by 25 and you get (getting out calculator) . . . 3,800 times. Then I cranked the metronome to 156 and did another 30 minutes so that's . . . 4,680, and add that up . . . 8,480. And that's just tonight! Boy, I'm a slow learner. But it's good practice. When you play things that many times it just gets into your body and you never forget. Sometimes I'll be asked to play a pattern that I don't immediately recognize but my hands and body remember that I had diddled that or whatever and it is easy. It's all about learning skills. And practicing.

On other fronts, last night my car threatened to overheat itself as I was driving home from tai chi. I've been having a leakage problem for over a year now, and it finally just bubbled over (get the analogy!??) and after hissing angrily and leaving puddles all over the place, I decided that I needed to get it fixed pronto. I searched the internet and read reviews and was lucky to find a wonderful shop just around the corner from where I live, and am happy to report that I was made to feel very comfortable and not-scammed at all. I have a distrust of all mechanics whom I don't call "Dad." Dad of course is the best mechanic in the world, but since he lives 400 miles away, I needed to find someone to fix my dear Yaku (my faithful jeep). If you live in or near Berkeley and need a reference, let me know. (Does anyone actually read this blog?)

Oh, and I started a new session of taiko classes. The class was giganto--we used every single drum. Good energy in that class. One of my concerns is that I will bore my returning students by going back to basics. I asked them to do my drill with the opposite hands, but I think I will need to find more ways to keep them challenged. I love my returning students and would hate to see them leave. I am offering a "continuing" taiko class next session. Not sure what I want to call that class yet. We've been throwing around the name "intermediate" class, but I'm not sure anyone is really an intermediate yet. I have so much I want to teach, and I hope that I can focus more on skill, technique and kata in that class, whatever it's called. Maybe etiquette too. I'm not a big one on bowing and all that, but I just cringe at the thought that my students go out into the world and not understand why we bow, or how to bow, or why we show so much respect. I, for one, truly believe that respect (for teachers anyway, or maybe I can only speak for myself as a teacher) must, in a certain respect, be earned, and not insisted upon. I hope one day I can earn it from my students. But also there are the wonderful people out there in the taiko world who you just show respect to. But that is a difficult thing to explain to students, so my thoughts on this are still not fully formed. Stuff to think about.