In taiko, there are no belts to symbolize one's level of proficiency. A player who's played 20 years with a community group may be less skilled than one who's played two years with a professional group. One player who's not as good with technical skills/chops as you may far surpass you in fludity of motion or ki generation. It's very relative.
Some taiko groups adopt the term sensei and/or the sempai-kohei (senior-junior) relationship, but there are few taiko players that people call "master" or "grandmaster". For the most part, that makes sense - how many of us can say we've mastered taiko?
I get frustrated by two things in this regard, however:
- Leaders of a group who feel that position = skill, and while they may not say it, act as if they have a mastery of taiko because of it.
- Those who feel they have little left to learn because they are skilled in one or more areas of taiko.
With the latter, it's sad to see those in martial arts who've gotten their black belt and sort of...stop. It's a cliche to say "the black belt is only the beginning", but it's also common to have people reach that level and then stop pushing themselves. And in taiko, it happens without a black belt, but I see it time to time. It's not like every taiko player should push themselves all the time, and in some community groups, it's a lower priority. But even in those community groups, I meet countless numbers of players who want to learn more, see more, do more! There are endless ways to grow as a taiko player - musically, physically, emotionally, as a teacher, as a leader, etc.
Personally, I can't imagine ever wanting to "get there", whether it's taiko or karate. The path is more important to me at this point than the destination! To me, to stop learning is anathema. I crave new experiences in order to grow.
I may not be the easiest student to deal with, but that's my issue. :)
Hi,
ReplyDeleteI finally caught up with the rest of your entries, and this one struck a chord with me. I've been playing taiko for about 8 years (essentially with two of those years not taiko-ing, except for occasional home practice just to not forget everything), and each time I come to a greater understanding of some element, I realize how much I still don't know about taiko. The same is true of my bass playing. Rather than lament this, I feel that life is telling us 'more experiences await you'. It's up to us to make sure we seek them out.