Monday, October 10, 2016

Soloing for the song (feat. Ringo Starr...kind of) part 1



There's a tribute video to Ringo Starr, featuring several iconic Western drummers.  It's not a new video, but I just saw it recently.  You can watch it here.

Two things stood out to me in this video:

At 0:41, Questlove mentions how the most timeless drummers are the ones that are the most simple.  That's followed at 0:45 by Dave Grohl asking how to define the world's best drummer.  Is it technical proficiency, or is it someone who "sits in the song with their own feel?"

At 2:24, Dave plays a super-simple downbeat pulse and remarks how skilled a drummer is if a beat that simple can make people dance.

In taiko, solos often seem about playing the most notes, about one-up-ing the person who came before, about a new "trick", etc.  There's also a lot of focus (from instructors, from students) on proper technique, which is never a bad thing.

But none of those take into account the song itself.

Taiko is also a visual art form for the most part, but what if you were playing for an audio recording, or people who couldn't see you on stage?  Even if they can see you, are you "sitting in the song"? How are the skills you develop during practice and in performance helping you for a situation like that?

Oh, I know it can be difficult to add that to the other litany of things to worry about - your form, ki, sequence, tempo, volume, endurance, etc.  This is definitely something easier to consider for people that have been playing for a while.  But if you're not at least thinking about it early on, it's not like it's just something that magically comes to you one night as you sleep!

So ok, but what does it mean to "sit in the song?"  How do you play simply and still have an interesting solo?

That's a blog post for another time...

Thursday, October 6, 2016

Bias


 
1.)          __________ are better at taiko than __________.

2.)          _____  _____ can't be as good at taiko as _____  _____.



What did you put in those blanks?  I'm betting you put something in them.

It's only natural to put something in there, one group over another, but I'd hope that everyone who reads this post quickly dismissed whatever your brain put in there.  It's only natural to put something in there, but it's what we do next that defines us.

However, I know from experience that some people will fill in those blanks and believe it, even defend it.  That one group of people will never be as good as another group.  That Japanese players are better than non-Japanese players, that women can't be as good as men, etc.  This is something I've tackled multiple times on my blog and in conversations.

Can you prefer an aesthetic?  Yes.  Is that aesthetic better?  Subjective.  Not better for everyone, not better in all cases.  I can respect someone's opinion, but that's what it ultimately is, opinion.

Another danger of this mindset can come about in how you teach.  If you intrinsically believe people A are superior to people B, and you have to teach groups of both, how can you be sure your lowered expectations of people B aren't affecting what you say and do with them?  That you're not giving subtle (or not so subtle) clues to them when you interact?  Are you in fact part of the cause for the opinion you hold?

Put yourself in their shoes.  What if you knew your teacher automatically thought less about whatever group of people they included you in?  What if you could see and hear the differences in how they treated you versus a group of people they assumed were better than you?

Finally, how does it influence how others perceive you?  As you can tell, I don't think much for this kind of biased thinking.  It sets up unnecessary barriers and hampers interactions both ways.  Stating your opinion as fact on this can get people to respect you less, consider your opinions on other things as flawed, etc. 

I would normally say here that it's ok to have this sort of opinion if you know it's just your opinion, but I actually would like people to question it if is indeed their opinion.  There's so much taiko out there, there's so many new things popping up and old things being refined all over the world.  Why not keep an open mind and hope to be pleasantly surprised?



image credit: www.campusreform.org

Monday, October 3, 2016

A few seconds can last a lifetime.


I'm of the rather pale persuasion.  Since taiko has me playing outdoors a good deal, I use a lot of sunscreen.  Unfortunately, once a sweat forms, sunscreen often decides to play havoc with my eyes.

When that happens in the middle of a performance, I have to keep reminding myself that there could be someone taking a photo or video at exactly that moment.  Doesn't mean it's not extremely uncomfortable, even painful at times, but with my luck, the time I decide to wince or rub my eye is the worst possible time.

Now maybe you don't have to deal with sunscreen in your eyes, but what else might come up for you?  That itch you just have to scratch?  Shifting your stance into a more comfortable position while everyone else around you is still?  Looking around?  What about something harder, like not looking tired?  It's not easy to be "on" 100% during a performance, but it's such a bummer to see a picture in the local paper or online with your face haggard or your jaw slackened.

On the surface, this is just talking about making you look good - and helping your group look good, too.  But it's also about discipline and focus, about awareness of your habits and appearance on stage, things to work on to increase your presence and projection.

It might feel like extra pressure when you start thinking of maintaining a strong facade the entire time you're playing, but like most skills, when you start doing it more and more, you have to monitor it less and less.  Doesn't mean sunscreen's going to sting any less on the eyeballs, though...

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Where you can practice

photo credit: wikipedia commons
 
If you're a taiko player and reading this, I'm assuming you have a place you go to practice.  Maybe it's a studio, a dojo, a parking garage, or something else.

You're also very likely to have a practice pad or something you play on when you're home.

But how many other places can you practice?  Actually, that's not a good question.  Instead, the question should be "what are the other ways you can practice?"

I am constantly drumming on things with my fingers/hands.  My steering wheel shows where my fingers have strummed and tapped for years.  My desk and keyboard at home and at work make for a great chudaiko-shime combination.  When I don't feel like I'll look too much like a freak, I'm playing patterns on my chest with my hands and fists.  I'm constantly scatting or whispering patterns as I walk, because my step is a steady, natural tempo.  Being a natural fidget-er comes in handy for once, I suppose!



Why not in bathroom, kitchen, car, hallway, sidewalk, etc.?  There are few places that you can't practice, as long as you understand that you don't need to be in stance, have drumsticks, or even have drums!

I realize this might seem obvious to some of you, sure.  So keep it up!  For everyone else, start it up!  You might annoy a few people, but this is taiko, so c'mon!  :)

Monday, September 26, 2016

Leading a gig

photo credit: www.1presby.com

At SJT, members are encouraged to sign up to be in charge of festival gigs.  We do several of them a year, and often the same ones each year.  There's usually a lot of people who have done that gig before and at least one Staff member at each of those gigs, so there's support if people need it.

When one of us does this, it gives a nice break to Staff.  We take charge of creating the set, placing personnel, leading the practice for the gig, coordinating travel, and being the contact for whomever's in charge at the festival.

But there's a secondary benefit to this that is sometimes overlooked.  When you lead a gig, you get to see what it's like from the "other side", and gain a new perspective.

You'll gain a respect for how difficult it can be to balance parts, making sure that people get a good distribution of parts and accounting for a variety of skill levels and experience.  Sometimes it's even more complicated if the stage is an odd or smaller shape.

You also might get to see what it's like when issues arise that you don't normally think about.  It could be anything from people showing up late, to people not liking the parts they're given, to figuring out who's driving, to forgotten equipment, to getting stuck in traffic, and lots of other possible curve balls.

Once I started helping out with gig-leading, it made me a lot more tolerant of other gigs I played in.  I became aware that there might be factors I had no clue about (that Staff was dealing with before we ever got there), and if I got a spot or spots I wasn't thrilled with, I had a reason to believe there was a purpose to it.

So maybe you're not in a position to take charge of a gig, but it's really good to consider all the things that the people who do take charge might have to deal with.  Being reliable and accommodating as a player can be a real plus for the people who might be stressing out on details you'll never know about!

Thursday, September 22, 2016

Height-ened.



I write about being tall in taiko.  There's one post here and another here.

However, it's not just that you have to adjust to things if you're tall.  Regardless of your height, you have to be aware of how your size affects all aspects of your playing...

Most groups use the same bachi for shime.  If they're on the longer side, it's going to be harder for a shorter person to control.  In this case, they might need to choke up more.  If they're on the shorter side, it's going to be harder for a taller person to get good leverage and they might need to have a reverse choke where the butt of the bachi sits in the palm of the hand.

If you play on an upright drum, tachi-uchi, then your height affects your default angle of strike.  A shorter person might have to strike horizontally whereas a taller person can strike at a downward angle.  A shorter person on shime might have to take a more upright stance while a taller person might have to get lower to make the striking technique a clean one.  These can change everything from how the hara is used to where tension occurs.

A taller person on a betta drum doesn't need to use a lot of strength to make a solid strike, whereas a shorter person might need to add a little bit extra whip to match that sound.  A shorter person making an arm circle will look quicker than a taller person right next to them making that exact same circle.  A smaller person jumping several feet in the air can look impressive, while that same distance jumped by a taller person looks lazy.  The distance has to be relative, not equal.

There are other things that height can or should affect: how a person dances/moves their feet, appropriate bachi length for personal use, foot placement after a turn or spin in a song, etc.

But the most important thing, as I say in post after post after post, is to be aware of these things.  Maybe you're on the taller or shorter ends of the spectrum and you know some of this stuff is a factor, but what else is?  Maybe you're more in the middle of the spectrum, but did you know this stuff affects people outside of the "normal" range?  If you're ever teaching people of outlier height, how do you take these (and other) factors into consideration?

Monday, September 19, 2016

It's ok to suck sometimes.

photo credit: amazon.com

I am constantly talking about growth and improvement when it comes to studying an art, how you should never accept things at face value, places to find inspiration, how to push yourself, etc.

But sometimes, you're just going to feel like you suck.

Maybe one day you feel you suck in just one aspect, like soloing, or improvising, or teaching, or flexibility.  Maybe one day you feel like that in many or all aspects.  Just realize a couple of things:

  • If you never feel like you suck at something, you might not try so hard to get better at it.


  • If you never feel like you suck at something, it's possible you suck at it but don't KNOW that you suck at it...


  • Sucking often comes goes cycles with success.  You get better at something which makes you more aware of the details, then awareness of those new details makes you think you suck at them, repeat.
  • "Sucking" is subjective.  Had a bad day?  Temporary.  Things are tricky?  That's not "sucking".  What you feel you "suck" at might be at a level other people wish they could be at.  Where you  think you "suck" now could be much better off than when you "sucked" a year ago.
  • Those who have struggled to get past something they felt they sucked at often make for much better teachers, because they went through many of the same things their students are going through.
Worrying about sucking can be more stressful than whatever the results of the sucking are.  And because of how are flawed brains are, that worry can often cause more sucking.  So while you don't want to be content with sucking, sometimes you have to accept it for the short term.  Acceptance can bring complacency, but also a bit of peace while you regroup and try again.


Suck today, but rock tomorrow!