Taiko Diaspora – Steph

It was exciting for me to watch videos of taiko groups from all corners of the world. As the world has grown increasingly connected through the development of transportation and communication technologies, taiko has spread more rapidly than ever. Each time it reaches a new place, taiko gets reprocessed and slightly modified according to the context in which it is played.

This past weekend, a group of Gendo members attended the first ever East Coast Taiko Conference. The thesis of the conference seemed to be: taiko is owned and defined by everyone who plays it. For me, it was interesting to compare the experience of attending the Intercollegiate Taiko Invitational at UC Davis last year and the East Coast Taiko Conference at Cornell this past weekend.

I think there is a common sense among East Coast schools that we are the underdogs when it comes to taiko. We are farther geographically from the birth place and great teachers of taiko. In most cases, our groups are younger, we’ve attended less conferences and workshops, we’ve seen less professional performances. On top of this, until this weekend, most of our groups have developed in isolation from one another. Much like allopatric speciation, in which species that are geographically separated begin to evolve different traits, taiko groups on the East Coast have often developed unique personalities and ways of playing taiko. Given this diversity and sense of uncertainty about how each of our taiko groups may fit into the larger taiko picture, I think it was comforting to all of us when Alan Okada (Soh Daiko) and PJ Hirabayashi (San Jose Taiko) emphasized in their opening talks the fluid definition of “taiko”.

Alan started off giving a brief history of taiko. When he got to modern taiko, and the migration of taiko to the East Coast, he talked about a central question that emerged: “who speaks for taiko? who represents taiko?”. Especially when taiko became no longer exclusive to just Asian-American communities, and when people began playing taiko in ways other than how Seiichi Tanaka taught it, assignment of taiko ownership suddenly became ambiguous. Alan talked about a time when everyone saw Seiichi Tanaka as the only teacher of taiko, and when there were set ways to strike a drum. When taiko diversified, there was no longer one representative style or form. At the very end, Alan once again asked “who represents taiko?”, this time with the answer of, “all of you own taiko”. He explained that it was up to us to move taiko forward, to constantly shape and redefine it. He said when he looked around the room, he saw different villages, all playing their own kind of taiko – Cornell is a village, Brown is village, Bowdoin is a village, etc. Ultimately, he encouraged us all to play the taiko that makes the most sense for the members of our group and for the people in our communities.

PJ explored similar issues. Her own first encounter with taiko came at a community event, in which she described seeing taiko and realizing for the first time in her life that there was such a thing as “Asian American art”. Throughout her talk, she recounted different taiko performances that she had witnessed, and her recurring question of “is this taiko??”. She found herself frequently asking what made taiko legitimate or authentic. Then, one time, PJ encountered a group of people with special needs giving a taiko performance. At that moment of seeing the joy that taiko brought to the members of the group, nobody could ask the question “is this taiko?”. PJ reminded us that throughout our experience as taiko players, we will observe styles of playing that are completely different from our own. “In the end, though, aren’t we all just striving for an individual voice?”, PJ asked.

Both Alan and PJ recognize the versatility and multiplicity of taiko. And they also understand the need to respect and not judge forms of taiko that are different from those with which we are familiar. To me, their message was extremely heart-warming and also affirming of some of my own conclusions that I have reached while thinking about taiko recently.

Lastly I think Alan and PJ imparted two challenges to all of us as taiko players: a) to recognize that we are all communal owners of taiko, and as such, we have the power to shape the artform and the responsibility to define it in the best way that makes the most sense to us and our communities, and b) to respect that forms of taiko different from our own do not hold any less of a claim to the label of “taiko”. Alan relayed a message that Kenny Endo likes to give: whenever any of us play taiko, it may be the first time that someone in the audience is seeing taiko, and it may be the last time that someone in the audience is seeing taiko. It’s a powerful reminder that we are all bearers of taiko, and as such, we have a responsibility to the entire rest of the community to strive to play it sincerely and wholeheartedly.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Some other comments on this week’s readings and videos:

BRAZIL:

It was interesting to note the difference among groups. Amanojaku’s Kizuna performance was extremely synchronized. While it did not necessarily employ fancy rhythms or movements, the group leaves an impression through their crisp coordination and dramatic dynamics. Meanwhile, Sao Paulo’s group had much more of a “rock band” feel. They relied heavily on body language (i.e. bouncing to the beat), stick movements, and even special effects such as flashing strobe lights.

HOLLAND:

I thought Percossa gave a strong performance. Their style of playing on two drums next to each other reminded me of one of the pieces Cornell played at the East Coast Taiko Conference – this kind of setup allows players to demonstrate more agility, similar to the style of drumming on might play on a drumset. I appreciated the odaiko players in the back – I thought they had great form and coordination. I also thought the group employed very typical “taiko” beats and rhythms.

AUSTRALIA:

Taikoz is clearly a powerful group with dynamic energy. I watched videos of them performing arragements of yatai, miyaki, and irodori. Through their performances they convey incredible energy, endurance, and skill. I also enjoyed their mission statement: “Our aim is not to simply transplant one culture’s music into another’s, but to allow a new form of music to grow upon a sure foundation of understanding and application of wadaiko technique and spirit.” This echoes the opinion of many other taiko professionals that we’ve encountered through the course – that taiko is about taking a firm knowledge of traditional taiko technique, personalizing that tradition to ones own context, and allowing a bold new artform to emerge out of it.

– – – – – – – – – – – – –

As a reiteration of Alan and PJ’s point that taiko is no longer a uniquely Asian phenomenon, most of these groups seemed dominated by non-Asians. Taikoz seemed to have two Asians in their ensemble out of eight. The video of Percossa that I watched featured no Asians. Similarly, other European groups such as Megunkyo (UK), Kagemusha (UK), Taiko Meantime (UK), and Tentekko (Germany), are formed in communities that are not necessarily defined by Asian immigrant experiences. Yet, these groups all still pay attention to tradition. As mentioned above, Taikoz performs variations of classic pieces such as yatai, miyake, and irodori. Kagemusha mentioned performing with or learning from Daihachi Oguchi + Osuwa taiko, Yoshikazu Fujimoto of Kodo, San Jose Taiko, Kenny Endo, and Hana Yui (Kodo). Taiko Meantime mentioned performing alongside Hana Yui of Kodo, even as it explores new manifestations of taiko, such as its fusion of taiko with contemporary dance. Tentekko’s leader, Monka Baumgarti, also studied with Kodo on Sado Island. These groups all share a common appreciation of the established masters of taiko, and a common trend of seeking out the origins of taiko.

Ultimately, these videos made me proud to be part of a growing artform that seems so universal in its appeal. Taiko seems to have the ability to touch and impress people everywhere. In view of taiko’s global ability to create communities and impart meaning into people’s lives, questions of whether or not a certain group is playing “the right kind of taiko” seem trivial and unimportant.

About Steph Yin

Steph Yin is a freelance science journalist based in Philadelphia. You can follow her on Twitter at @steph_yin.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a comment