Cross-training

This morning my gf and I were talking about taiko (surprise!) and she said she noticed that I think quickly when I play. I do feel able to pull up patterns that I want to try at will and make decisions on the "in the moment", true. We continued talking about what strengths she has and how our brains are wired.

We both have backgrounds in physical arts - hers in dance, mine in martial arts. For years I've been saying that doing karate on non-taiko nights keeps me "sane" and/or "balanced" so that I'm not only doing taiko and getting burnt-out or bored. However, I've never really looked into that with any sort of deep scrutiny or analysis.

From public workshops, attending national conferences, and bumping into players on tour, I would say that about two-thirds of the people that I've met who start playing taiko have some sort of physical or musical background. However, very few keep doing the "other" thing once they start taiko. That's a shame, but it's also understandable.

The background one brings into playing taiko is priceless. Martial artists and dancers tend to learn body and movement aspects quicker, musicians tend to get rhythm and musical aspects quickly. It will depend on the group and their focus, but with SJT, the former tend to see the benefits sooner, and the latter will see them later on.

The audience doesn't tend to know each member's background, but as I watch our group, I can see a person's background in their playing. The dancers prefer to move and know how to use their bodies to express themselves. They tend to use all the space in their available sphere and radiate energy outwards like a bomb. Martial artists tend to show purpose in their movements, generating ki with ease and able to project that ki with either motion or expression like a laser. Musicians bring their ear and hands into the mix, infusing a solo with their voice. Percussionists are able to strike with extra ease and precision, but musical non-percussionists tend to hear the ensemble on a level that many people struggle to do.

I can only speak with authority on my own cross-training, karate and taiko. There is a strong foundation of physical conditioning to lay my taiko training on - deep stances and muscle memory, intention in striking/hitting a target, and something I just realized today, sparring!

The "mental quickness" that got brought up this morning is something I've taken for granted, but it's directly helped by sparring. We don't go full-contact at my dojo, but I've taken a fair share of painful blows nonetheless. Still, the ability to be 100% present in the moment, to be thinking "where are they open? where am I open? do I want to strike now? do they want me to strike now? do I want them to strike now? where are they trying to position me?" one second and then to either simply *act* or *react* the next is what gives me that same presence of mind when I'm soloing in taiko.

But...here's where it changes from merely recognizing a strength I have to a puzzle: how can I teach that skill to non-martial artists who play taiko? Can it be taught? To what degree? How did non-martial artists who have that skill get it?

So this post is a two-parter; a questioning of what one can do in cross-training that directly benefits one's playing, and a question of how to teach those benefits to those who don't cross-train in that same manner. As I gear up for the 2009 North American Taiko Conference next week, I may be able to implement some ideas in one of my workshops, but I have a feeling that it'll be a long-term pondering to figure out these new questions. I welcome the challenge.

For those that do cross-train, what do you do and how does it help you?

Videos - San Jose Obon 2009

Hey everyone! Here are my videos from last weekend's Obon - enjoy!

Commotion (monster version)

Gendai ni Ikiru

Ei Ja Nai Ka (Odori version)

Obon Obon (Odori)

San Jose Obon

Well that was a kick-ass fun weekend!

I'm not the best to give background and history of Obon festivals, but for those who don't know, the Obon festival is both for celebration and remembrance of loved ones. It's usually full of food, wares/games, music, dancing, and (hopefully) taiko!

The friday night before, we had a big potluck with about 60 college taiko players (plus some non-collegiate). In talking to my L.A. counterparts, it hit me that San Jose Obon is probably the largest in North America, if not the entire American continent (dunno what they're doing down south!)

SoCal is saturated with taiko groups and smaller Obons, so there's not a singular large one to be held. Even up here in NorCal, they've spread the Obon out so people can visit a new one each weekend - but the size of San Jose's is still stunning. We had 1200 dancers for the odori dancing on Saturday, and 700 on Sunday. That's 1200 dancers, not to mention all the onlookers and fans. I'd say we were easily close to 1500 if you included everyone else...yow!

We've been inviting college taiko groups to play both Saturday and Sunday before our sets, and since many of them don't have a practice space or a lot of drums to play on, it's great to watch them "cut loose" on our home turf, with our drums.

There's also something about performing at SJ Obon - it's one of the few festivals that we play on street-level, instead of being on a stage. A stage is great for various reasons (hot asphalt, easier to see, etc.) but being in the middle of so many fans and playing with the full ensemble is something we only get to do once a year.

My newest song - Commotion - which debuted in May, was in monster-mode on Saturday! We took it from the regular size of 7 people to all 18 of us, which made it look but huge and awesome. I don't mean my song is awesome (although I'm biased and it is), but having so many people playing taiko at once is an awesome experience!

A lot of people only get to see us at a concert, on stage, with lighting and a much broader range of pieces. A lot of people only get to see us at a festival, with the "4th wall" gone, all the songs full of energy and a more casual atmosphere. I was asked what the difference to me is between a festival like Obon and a concert, and I had to admit that while neither one is "better", there's nothing quite as much fun as playing for an Obon crowd...

Honesty

At the (karate) dojo tonight, we had to give the news to three intermediate students that they didn't pass their belt test and would be held back. The main element they lacked was spirit/ki. I want to touch on that in a future post, but for this post, I want to talk about something I spoke about in a post here about self-observation.

One thing I told the group tonight to try was to start using videotape, so they could truly see themselves as we (the judges) did. It doesn't always sink in when someone tells you what to change; if you can't see for yourself what needs to change *and* remember to change it over time, it's not going to have an effect.

Over the years, in both taiko and karate, I see people watching themselves in the mirror. And why not; that's what it's there for! But what are they seeing? Too often, it's an illusion of what they want to see, not the truth of what is. I see advanced karateka punching towards the mirror watching their technique, but missing basic fundamentals that should be glaringly obvious. I see taiko players watching themselves solo but abandoning basic form.

Sure, the argument is usually "well I was focusing on this specific arm" or "I want to make sure I'm hiting certain angles" but usually it's easy to tell when that's true and when that's an excuse. And that's where honesty comes in.

It's sometimes very hard for someone to see through the illusion of "what I want to see" and "what is really there". I've mentioned the concept of "beginner's mind" in an earlier post, about trying to learn something new or make something better every time you practice, and without that, all watching does is serve as self-admiration.

Seeing oneself on tape is a humbling experience. I highly recommend it no matter what art you might practice. The only factor that can nullify that experience is honesty (or lack thereof)! If there are errors, missteps, or bad habits that you don't see, is that on purpose? It's easy to dismiss those as flukes or not important, but to really be honest, to really make progress is to confront those issues without assuming anything one way or the other.

Honesty is neutral. It is neither positive nor negative. As such, someone who constantly sees the bad in their technique should also step back and see the truth in things. It can lead to a boost in confidence and rise in overall progress!

Honesty in this way is about looking past the illusion, the "veneer of the convenient", chipping away at misplaced ego and unnecessary demons, to reveal the artist underneath. All that baggage weighs us down and keeps us from attaining our full potential!

Identity, self, me, art!

In the end of my last post, I talked about knowing one's self and realizing that the self is part of the instrument/art. I want to touch on that some more. Hang on, the ride gets bumpy.

In my case, it doesn't matter whether I'm practicing karate or taiko - I *am* the instrument; I am the art. Without me, there is no music, no taiko playing. Without me, there is no punching, no kicking. Yes, others can and will do those things, but I'm specifically talking about each person as an individual.

Taiko is Japanese.

People add often attachments to things because that's what they were taught or what they assumed to be so. For instance, if you ask someone if karate is Japanese, they will say "yes." But what does that mean? Does Japan "own" the art? It was created in Japan, developed in Japan, but it's spread and evolved worldwide. I could say it's a Japanese art form, but no one owns the art. It can't be put into a box and kept in a closet. This goes for any art form. No one can own a concept, I don't care what the lawyers might argue.

The same is true for taiko - created and developed in Japan, but the evolution of the art has a lot to do with where it's traveled. Taiko, introduced to North America, developed a much different flavor, both losing and adding elements from what it came over as. The journey was not one-way however, and in returning to Japan with the NA flavors, it again had impact and went through the same process as it did coming out here. It still goes on to this day.

My favorite example is Kodo, the god-kings of taiko. One thing Kodo became famous for were "crossovers". Playing a katsugi okedo (lighter roped drum slung across the shoulder horizontally at waist level), Kodo introduced the taiko audience to the left hand alternating between right and left drum head (while the right played every other note, stationary) very, very fast. Guess what? That came from seeing the Korean group, SamulNori, do the very same thing with their slung roped drums. *gasp* And now, crossovers are pretty darned common - maybe not easy, but a lot of people do them compared to before.

I try to respect people who cling to the idea that taiko has to be Japanese, but it's often hard to enter into a truly open debate about the issue with them. They *want* it to be Japanese. It makes it...more special to them? Maybe they want to be Japanese in some manner, and the link to Japan validates them more somehow. (See my previous post on that whole hoo-ha.) However, that makes a label more important than the art. I believe it is truly important to understand *where* your art came from, yes. Notice how no one ever says, "where your art is" or "where your art goes home and sleeps at night after a long day at work"? Ok, I'm being silly. Sue me.

Arts evolve, and evolution doesn't have to be a big step (like the Neo-Cubist movement or mixed martial arts). Unless a person was born to Japanese parents, in Japan, and plays taiko on Japanese drums, some people will consider it "not Japanese taiko". If a person doesn't care what others think, and thinks, "well, I am playing Japanese taiko", I just hope they've asked themselves, "why is that important to me?"

The beauty about taiko (and taiko is not unique in this) is that taiko can be whatever you want it to be, as long as you realize it's going to be potentially different to everyone else. To a group in Japan, to a group in the UK, to a group in Brazil, taiko will be different things. Once you say, "but taiko should be..." then you're already four words into being wrong. :)

The taiko is special/sacred.

It struck me funny when I came to realize this is so not true. Any musician worth their salt will take care of their instrument (barring smashing a guitar at a rock concert!) I've met some taiko players who think the taiko is the only instrument that has a soul, a spirit, but that comes from not knowing other musical traditions! I could go into the myriad of other instruments, let alone drums, that have a spiritual/sacred component in other cultures, but I'm not going to.

The taiko is a drum. It doesn't do anything unless it's played. Some people believe that the taiko, being made of natural elements (wood, hide, metal) retains a natural spirit, and in playing the taiko well, that spirit can be brought out. I can respect that belief, and my own group espouses that belief, but still - it's just a DRUM! It's usually an expensive drum, mind you, and setting your coffee on it shows a lack of common sense.

Here's the interesting thing, sort of the "missing link". If the taiko needs the player to make the spirit (or even just the sound) to emerge, then the PLAYER is another part of the instrument. So if the player is just as important, why is the player never considered sacred or special?

Ok, sure, I'm sure there are some who do take that into consideration, but those are very rare cases. My point is, there are taiko players who smoke, who are jerks, etc. So...how does that effect the taiko when they are playing it? To keep the taiko "special" in that case would mean putting it in a glass case and never playing it, lest someone somehow "soil" it, right? Well that's just silly. I can only name four people that I've personally heard talk about the importance of the player in taiko. Really, no one ever seems to think about it amongst the talk about the taiko this and the taiko that. Don't forget about the player!

...in practical terms, please?

So in more practical terms, when thinking of the player as part of the instrument, I've heard over and over again how the "true" self comes out when one plays taiko. And that, I agree with to a large part. People that aren't certain of themselves broadcast that to the audience. People who are generally ill-tempered or low in the humor department often look like the "dead zone" on stage amongst the rest. Those who may not have a lot of skill or experience, but are having a blast usually make the audience take notice. Socially awkward people often move in awkward ways. Getting the point? Taiko players are the taiko, the art of it anyways.

This isn't exclusive to taiko, or even music. It's an inward eye that isn't always easy to keep open; we see the flaws as well as the strengths in ourselves and sometimes choosing to see nothing is easier than honest inner dialogue.

Identity, self, me.

Who am I?

I do a lot of thinking about "what is taiko?", and it's enjoyable on a philosophical level. I've had a number of discussions about how identity in taiko shapes both the art as well as the performer. So I want to do some typing and see what I come up with, with no real destination in mind...

1.) I'm White.
What does even mean? If you pull a white crayon out, I'm much more pink than that. But no one ever calls me "pink". And what if I was tan, would I be "umber" or "beige"? No, I'd still be "white". It's a pretty useless descriptor if it's describing the color of my skin even if my skin isn't that color, right?

2.) I'm Caucasian.

Ok, this one is more scientific, but still pretty useless. I'm one of the predominantly light-skinned humanoids. Sure.

3.) I'm (North) American.

What does that even mean? At the very least, it means I'm a native of the Americas. Am I Mexican? Canadian? United States...ian? What if I was born in Fakenameistan and moved here when I was two years old? Which place holds my nationality? I can pretty much choose whichever one suits me at the time someone asks me...

4.) I'm one-quarter each Russian, Scottish, German, and Irish.

Well that's neat! I must like vodka, kilts, bratwurst, and potatoes, right? I'm not serious...although I do like bratwurst. This is my heritage, my family history, but it only defines who I am on paper. It might explain some genetic traits, but like horoscopes, it's easy to pick-and-choose what sounds convenient.

5.) I'm a Japanophile/Sinophile.

I've studied the Japanese language for about a total of two years, I've practiced karate for about 10 years total, and taiko for 16. This combination often has placed me in the "Japanophile" category by those who find comfort in labeling others. There are other elements to this; I enjoy some anime, enjoy videogames, and now have a Japanese-Canadian girlfriend. Damning, isn't it?

The definition of the word "Japanophile" is one who loves Japan, its people, and/or its culture. But the word suggests the lack of love for one's own country, people, and/or culture. I've never been called an Americanophile, nor have I ever heard a native Japanese person be called a Japanophile - there are people like that, but the labels sound weird on them.

I'm a culturophile. I love music, food, art, and language from around the world - not so much people, but that's the introvert in me. :)

When I was studying the Brazillian martial art Capoeira, no one called me a Brazilophile, even though I was studying the movement of the art, the music and songs in Portugese, and learning the language somewhat. When I studied Tae Kwon Do, no one called me a Koreophile. Taking Western music theory classes never branded me as a Anglophile, either.

If I wasn't practicing karate, I would be doing another martial art. If I wasn't practicing taiko, I'd be doing another musical form. If I had the time, I would study a dozen other languages. But it happened that several of my interests had one country of origin.

6.) I want to be Japanese.

Ha! I actually like being who I am. I admire parts of the Japanese culture like I do parts of my "own" culture, but I don't want to adopt it necessarily. I kind of like being myself and not letting one culture or another define me.

My musical background is strongly rooted in 80's British techno-pop and Nine Inch Nails. My visual style tends to favor a Fauvist approach. I appreciate Heavy Metal but own little of it. I looove Thai food. The African asalato toy fascinates me. I've gone through a Barmitzvah and several years of Hebrew school. I avoid sunlight and the outdoors in general. I'm a Scorpio and Water Ox, but believe in none of that.

Now, with that tiny spread of data, what do you see me wanting to be? There's no pattern, no thread, is there? Exactly. It's much easier to label and define me the less you know about me. I'm unique, just like everyone else. I sure do have some words that may fit me, but the people that know me the least seem to be the ones who are the most sure they have me pegged.

***Okay, so...who cares?***
Probably not many people! Part of this post is to put myself out there, even if it's not comfortable for others to confront. I've heard people labeling me who are so off-base it makes them look silly.

But these questions about who I am can bring conflict in others - I know people who play taiko and have questioned what "right" they have to play a "Japanese" art when they're not Japanese. What *is* Japanese? Is it a culture? Is it a nationality? Both? Neither?

Without the player, the taiko is simply a drum on a stand. So without knowing who you are as a player, how can you truly understand the instrument? I'll probably do another post on that in the near-future.

I'm tall.

The picture here is of Sun Mingming, the newest height-happy basketball player for the media to enjoy. The dude is 7'9", three inches taller than Yao Ming!

The picture is sort of what it's like for me playing kumidaiko (ensemble druming)...

After concerts, when the group heads to the lobby to finish the encore/greet the audience, I inevitably get at least one comment on my height, usually more. Granted, tall taiko players are still pretty uncommon, especially those with the flexibility to get low in stance.

Over the years I've realized that shorter players don't realize what it's like to have "limbs of length". There are moves that shorter players can do quicker and even when speed is matched up, the shorter player will look faster. Unfair, I say!

Another disadvantage is the visual contour of a song. In a song with five drums in a line, odds are I'm in spot 1, 3, or 5. When I was newer, it was on either end (1 or 5) but those spots are mainly for the newer members. Now I'm almost always in the middle or in the back row (support, percussion, etc.) I also tend to block more of what's behind me, which can sometimes be a staging issue.

I'll never look like the other performers, either. If a song or section calls for a uniform look, the contour will have a "bump" in it. I'm really lucky that I can play quickly and move decently well, otherwise I might have an even harder time fitting into a song.

When teaching, it can be really hard to teach someone with a different body type than your own. Sometimes I found that the people teaching me didn't have a real concept of what my body was doing, which meant some things didn't work and I had to figure out how to make other things work on my own. It's not anyone's fault, it's just how it is. I had no one to match up to; no one could translate things for my build.

Lastly, and it took me a while to realize, but I also needed longer bachi (drumsticks) because the "appropriate" length is elbow to middle finger. The standard length didn't cut it, but I was using it for years! However, for "community" bachi, those we use for other drums, I don't get a different length than anyone else. Someone 4'11" is going to be using the same small-drum bachi as me, which, given the huge height difference, is insane! You wouldn't go up to bat with a chopstick, would you?

It's not all bad, mind you. I can reach a lot farther when it comes to multiple drums; I just have to make it look like it's hard work. ;) I have more options with my wingspan than a lot of people even with just one drum - I can move farther out and still reach. I also have the option of getting higher when I want/need to, for drums or stands that are taller.

I'm really not complaining, honest. Just illustrating what it's like for a person of height. And I wouldn't want to change a thing.