There's nothing wrong with having signature moves when you solo, but how much do you rely on them?
In SJT, we have an unofficial rule. If there are several solos in a song, and someone does a move before you, you shouldn't do it later in that song. So if someone does all my signature moves before my solo, I have to come up with a new batch of things to do.
Another issue is having to solo for much longer than you're used to, for whatever the reason. What are you going to have once you've exhausted your bag of tricks?
There's no "right" way to solve this, but it's good to keep in mind. If someone preceding you "took" all your "good stuff", how screwed would you be? How can you change up your established movements to make them look different?
Even if you never need to do different movements, you should never get stuck doing the same solo moves just because they're comfortable. You'll never realize your potential that way!
True Tall Taiko Tales
They're true, I'm tall, and it's about taiko!
(updated Mondays and Thursdays)
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Monday, May 20, 2013
Drill: Get off
Here’s a fun drill for you. You’ll need something to hit, something to
hit with, and a metronome and/or music track(s) to play.
I guarantee you, somewhere in the
future, you’ll be soloing and you’ll realize you’re nowhere near the
downbeat. Crap! What do you do? A lot of people just keep going, hoping
they’ll hit the groove again (but often don’t).
Others stop and try to figure out when to come in (but this makes it
obvious to the audience that they’re off).
A few will do some sort of movement and use that time to hear what’s
going on (clever, if you can pull it off and not look like the latter).
Ultimately, the goal is the same:
get back on beat! So here’s your drill:
1.) Solo to a steady beat
2.) Get off
3.) Get back on
So set up a beat on the metronome or play along to
a song where there are steady sections (no tempo or beat shifts). Solo for a few seconds, then go nuts. Play “garbage”, play too fast, do whatever
you need to do to be way off. This might
be easy for some of you and harder for others, but I’m sure you can all do
it. After a few seconds of that chaos,
try to get back on the beat as soon as possible.
You may find that it’s easier to
get back on by playing less notes at first, but try working up to a point where
you can just hear where you want to be and play something more dense to get
back in.
If you have a friend who can help
you, this drill gets really good:
1.) Solo to a steady beat
2.) Have your friend turn the volume
off
3.) After a while, have them turn it
back up
4.) Get back on
This one is especially good
because you will think you’re on until the beat comes back, and it's much more
realistic. If you find that you’re not
off the beat, then try keeping the volume off for longer periods of time and/or
try different tempos.
This can be just as much fun of a
drill as it can be frustrating. Still,
finding yourself off beat and going “ha, I got you!” versus “where the hell did
you go?” is hugely satisfying. Have fun!
Thursday, May 16, 2013
How to get better
1.) Pick something you want to work
on.
2.) Work on it for an entire month.
3.) Pick something else you want to
work on, and go back to step #2 with it.
That’s it! And no, I’m not being flippant this time, I
really mean it.
A few years back in Shotokan, I
was lifting my heel off the floor while stepping back in a front stance. The stance is long, and it feels easier to
lift the heel up then push the weight back.
However, it “cheats” the move by not using the right muscles when it’s
done that way. It was a bad habit of mine and hard to break.
So for a good month, that’s what I
focused on. While I couldn’t forget
everything else, I made sure that I kept my damned heel down and worked the
correct muscles in the legs and thighs. It slowed me down to work at it, but I didn't go slow on purpose.
If I hadn’t made a focused effort, odds are it would have taken a long
time to get rid of!
While it might take longer than a
month to work off a bad habit or improve a skill, picking one thing that needs
work and focusing on it can really help.
It may not be as easy as “I worked on it, I fixed it, it’ll never come
up again”, but you might be surprised how much you can get done in a year with
this sort of system. It may also be hard
in your classes to say “I know xyz isn’t looking as good, but it’s because I’m
working on abc this month”, so be aware that other things might suffer as you
shift your attention.
And yes, this is not “the” way to
get better, but it’s a good way. Having
good instruction, having the right attitude, and having the willingness to want
to get better are all crucial elements.
Personally, I would love to hear
if anyone does this for a couple of months and works on a few things. Let me know if it helped!
Monday, May 13, 2013
You have it easy.
There are a lot of taiko groups
struggling out there, for space, for time, for recognition, for resources, for
members…for pretty much everything.
But you know what? They have it easy. You have it easy. *I* have it easy.
Let me clarify, before anyone
punches the screen. We all have it
EASIER.
Every group is going to have some
issues, some more painful than others.
But if you look at what’s available to the taiko community as a whole,
we’re really fortunate these days.
There’s the semi-annual North
American Taiko Conference which provides workshops and networking that would
never be available to most of the participants otherwise. There are several regional conferences that
do much the same thing on a smaller scale.
There are more opportunities to do taiko as a career, whether performing
or teaching. There are more drum
manufacturers across the country (and other countries) than ever. More groups keep popping up/branching off and
that leads to more people knowing what taiko is and having access to it. There’s a Facebook group for taiko with discussions
and resources added all the time.
There’s a ton of resources online from how to build your own drum to
Youtube videos of performances to dissertations on taiko to tall White guys
posting random things about taiko twice a week *cough*.
Just imagine what it took to start your own
taiko group 30 years ago compared to today – realize that email was just
becoming popular then (~1993). You had to
call, hand-write, and go meet people you wanted to talk to, IF you could find
out who they were!
Sure, you could argue some of the
above might also be negatives, like an inundation of taiko groups making it
hard to stand out or conferences not being affordable to some, etc. Sure.
You can also point to things in your own group making it really hard to
stay afloat. But we as a taiko community
have it so much easier than the ones who started it all, in Japan, the
Americas, Europe, everywhere.
So the next time you zip up your
bachi bag, pull out your chappa that you got from online, tie shime that
you got from a conference and learned to tighten from the internet, play a song that your group has been
playing since the beginning, watch your taiko DVDs, or even bow into your
rehearsal space, just give a bit of thought to how much was done to make those
things available, to get to where we are now – to where YOU are now.
While it's not easy to know everyone
who did everything to make it happen, when you find out who they are, thank them.
"How to compose"
The title of this post is in
quotation marks because by no means am I an expert on composition. However, I have seen a lot of new taiko
pieces over the years, and written several myself. I’d like to offer up some words of advice,
based on my experiences.
1.) Don't put everything you can into it. The kitchen sink is good for
dishes, not for songs. For those newer
to composing, it’s often tempting to put in as much as possible into a new piece,
but you wind up bombarding the audience with too much "stuff" and very
little gets retained. I’ve been to too many
concerts where on the drive home, I couldn’t tell you what half of the songs
were like for just this reason.
2.) What makes this song
different? If your song looks or sounds
like the rest of the repertoire, why are you writing it? If your group has a repertoire with 80% of
songs on naname and you want to write a naname song, ask yourself what will make it stand out?
3.) When will it debut? If you know you only have a few months to
teach a piece, you really need to account for the skill level and accountability
of the group. Maybe it’s best to
simplify or to pull the song instead and come back at a later date with
what you really want. I’ve seen new
works where the players were just barely comfortable with the piece and the audience can feel
that. I’ve been guilty of writing songs
like that myself, so I know...
4.) Know what’s important to teach. In other words, prioritize. Sequence, then substance, then details is generally a good order. Focusing on one move too much or one pattern
too much in the beginning may be detrimental to those learning the piece. Realize that the players may be worried about
how the whole song goes while you’re trying to improve a single part of it.
5.) Can it survive without you? Are you the only person that can play a certain spot in a song? Then you risk it never being played when you're not around or leave the group. Also, consider writing pieces that you're not in from the beginning, to be able to really be able to work on it without having the added distraction of being *in* it.
6.) Gimmick or highlight? If your song is written around a fancy move or a single moment, does the rest of the song hold its own? Does the gimmick get old soon? Does the moment warrant an entire song?
7.) Perfection can come later. Maybe in your head you know exactly what you want, but realize that your piece will take time to write, time to teach, time to adjust, and time for people to get familiar with it. If you want it to sound and look perfect at the first go, you will be disappointed. Give it time.
8.) Familiarity breeds contempt. You may very well get sick of your own piece as you write/teach it simply because you've heard it thousands of times in your head. Fight that feeling as much as you can; other people haven't heard it anywhere near as much and it's not old to them!
9.) Know how you want to teach your
piece. I’ve watched people who know
their piece really well struggle to get across their concepts, spend a lot of
time talking about the piece instead of teaching, or both.
If it sounds like you don't know what your piece sounds like, people might tend to lose faith in the song before it's finished. If you talk too much instead of teaching, it starts to sound like an exercise for your ego. If you have the time, I recommend rehearsing how to teach the
patterns/movements before doing it “live”.
------
There's no "right" way to write a piece. Still, there are ways to make it easier on you as the composer, easier on those learning it, and easier on the audience. Admittedly, sometimes you have to stumble in order to figure out what works best for you, but a little help can't hurt!
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Collegiate taiko
This past weekend I was fortunate
enough to see Stanford Taiko’s annual concert, “On the Shoulders of Giants”
Saturday night, followed by UC Berkeley’s Raijin Taiko’s annual concert
“Kakera” on Sunday.
I’m not going to write a review of
either show; that’s not the purpose of this post. However, I will say that I enjoyed both
concerts in different ways and for different reasons. One was a little more like jazz and the other
a little more like rock.
Aside from a couple of annual concerts, I get to experience a bit
of collegiate taiko in the summer when we invite 3-5 of groups to play at San
Jose Obon, but those shows are just a small taste of what a group has to
offer. It’s much like SJT playing a
short festival set; it’s one facet of our performance repertoire.
I am amazed how much the groups
can do with so much constant turnover. I
am inspired by the constant creativity – and even if the execution is not quite
there, they are trying, pushing themselves past the fear that a lot of
non-collegiate groups struggle with.
Their song transitions are often
silly, which can work for or against them, but transitions are a tricky thing
and again collegiate groups often do what most groups would never dare to. Also, their audiences are often full of
friends and college students, which make for a different vibe than other taiko
shows.
It’s great that there are more and
more college taiko groups popping up and annual gatherings of said groups are
no longer only limited to the West Coast.
As time goes on, I find myself meeting more and more collegiate players
and am always thrilled when they transition into groups after college, even if
it’s not with us, ha! ;)
If you get a chance, check out
what nearby college groups are up to and support them as best you can. Many of the people who are playing in
collegiate groups now will be the leaders and founders of groups in the future! And if there aren’t any collegiate groups
around you, find them on YouTube and spread the love!
Monday, May 6, 2013
Percussion
“Here, you can play this.” Five of the most dreaded words someone can
say to a new taiko player, usually accompanied by handing some strange
hand-held object that’s either struck or shaken to make noise. How scary!
For sake of this post, I’m
referring to percussion as things like chappa, shekere, clave, etc. – and not
taiko, but uchiwa would certainly fall into that category.
Half of doing well on percussion
is understanding the instrument. If I
handed you a guiro, bin-sasara, or a meinl cajita (that’s a real instrument, look it up), would you know how
to play it? If we had the time to
research all our available percussion, that would be great, but we don’t, and
we have to make due. Sometimes you just
have to sell what you have as best you can!
Shake what needs to be shaken, strike what needs to be struck. Along the way, you have to figure out what’s
not working and make adjustments. Is it
loud enough? Is it too loud? Does it sound harsh? Do you have control over where things are
moving?
Give
someone who’s never played chappa before and they probably won’t know where to
strike or what kind of wrist technique to apply, sure. But they can probably hear when things sound
abrasive, when the sound comes off muted, when the sound is “clean”.
The
other half of doing well on percussion is body awareness, mixed with a little
stage presence. I’ve seen people who
have really good posture playing on taiko, but give them handheld percussion
and they look all sorts of contorted: leaning in odd ways, knees going all
sorts of directions, etc. If you can get
into your default kata for taiko when using percussion, great! Use it.
If the song is more “casual” and that kata would be out of place, then
figure out what you can ease up on without losing posture.
Better
to stand upright and take small steps in place than wiggle/bend and look
awkward. Mind you, some people can
really sell awkward, but generally you’re on percussion to support and not to
be a distraction or steal the show, right?
Some
people might disagree with me and say that it’s too hard to give someone
supportive energy while standing upright, that doing what comes naturally is a
better way to give support. To a degree,
I do agree with this, except that if you’re on percussion and still trying to
get comfortable with it, then it’ll take you longer to do so while you’re not
in a position of stability. I would also
argue that one can project a LOT of positive, supportive ki from a standing
position and “standing position” doesn’t mean stiff or rigid.
Ultimately,
percussion that is played well adds another dimension to a song, and sometimes
can become a song in itself. Giving
percussion the role of “that thing we give people to play something on”
devalues it and doesn’t allow for a greater understanding. Sometimes people are happy just being able to
play anything in a song, and there’s nothing wrong with that – but it should be
a conscious decision when percussion is being used to give more people time on
stage and when it’s being used to accentuate a song.
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