Taiko in Tokyo

"Your fingers leave the bachi as you draw it back", Mizuho told me disapprovingly.  She would know better than me as she has been playing taiko for about 16 years with Oedo Sukeroku, http://www.oedosukerokutaiko.com/ , keepers of the Sukeroku style of drumming and one of the oldest performing taiko groups in Japan.  I had just finished a half hour review of the history of taiko in Japan with her as part of a private lesson I'd arranged.  Now I was finally standing at a drum in the studio below their office near Akihibara in Tokyo, eager to get my money's worth.  Mizuho patiently showed me what I was doing wrong and I said one of the 5 Japanese words I knew on day 3 of being in Japan.  "Wakarimashita",- I understand.  So I tried the pattern she'd just showed me again, paying attention to my fingers but fumbling the pattern.  "No, no, the pattern goes like this" she said patiently in very good english fortunately, and demonstrated what I'd tried to do.  Flawlessly, of course.  I took a deep breath and gathered patience.  "Hai", I said - Yes (one of the other 5 Japanese words I knew).  I tried again, focussing on the pattern AND my fingers.  "Good", she said and came over to me.  "But your arm", and here she tapped my elbow down a few inches, "should be like THIS" grabbing hold of my hand and, as though molding (dense) clay, moved it into what is the acceptable Sukeroku position for the hand.  "Let's try again".  Sweat is now pouring out of me.  My mouth is getting drier and I begin questioning if this was such a good idea.  We play the pattern for a while and she either graciously ignores any further mistakes or I've improved.  Likely the former. We are working through the first song I ever learned on a taiko drum.  I was told it's called "Matsuri taiko" when I learned it 7 years ago (and have played ever since) but have just been told by Mizuho that it's actually based on one of Oedo Sukeroku's original songs called "Midare" which was based on a Bon Odori dance (which is a festival in Japan) and played by Japan's earliest taiko ensembles, "Sukeroku Taiko" formed in 1967.  You see Seido Kobayashi, the founder of Oedo Sukeroku, who I'd just met as I arrived at their office for my lesson, was one of the original member of Sukeroku Taiko, so he's basically like one of the Beatles of taiko.  I'd say he's Paul as he's aged so well.  It was like I was learning the Bob Dylan version of "All Along the Watchtower" after having been playing the Hendrix or U2 version for 7 years. And I was struggling.  It was familiar, but not familiar. Fortunately, Mizuho had already given me a great drill to practice at home with Uminari Taiko when I get back so learning, or re-learning the song was gravy on the cake. We carried on with her adding phrase after phrase until I was grateful our time was up as I was sore, sweaty and questioning whether I'd really been playing taiko for 7 years.  But it wasn't over then.  Mizuho says, "Now I'll go get Master Seido so he can have a look at you". My stomach drops.  I contemplate running away or maybe just hiding behind some of the drums I'm surrounded by until they go away.  But I don't and resign myself to thoroughly embarrassing myself in front Seido Kobayashi as though I was about to show Tiger Woods just how good I really was on the golf course.  So Mizuho comes back with Seido, and as I'm realizing what an honour it is to be playing with these tremendous taiko players, he starts playing the base beat for Midare and I stumble through the patterns with Mizuho.   Now Seido speaks no english so Mizuho translates once we're done. "Your fingers leave the bachi as you draw it back, he says".  Apparently, I'm a slow learner.  I say knowingly, "Hai, wakarimashita".  He smiles. The highlight of the lesson has to be after a few more corrections from the man himself, when he asks through Mizuho, "Do play the big odaiko, like that one?" and they're both looking at the drum at the back of the room.  I'm excited and terrified as playing the big drum (well) is every taiko player's dream, and here's my shot to blow it completely or make a positive impression in front of a grand master.  Plus we're now way past the time I've paid for and Mizuho is a bit taken aback saying things like "He usually doesn't do this with students" and "This is special" so I'm again feeling very honoured and grateful to have this opportunity. So I say, "A little bit" and he finds the right sized bacchi (drum sticks) for the big odaiko and hands them to me.  Not to be presumptuous, I ask for his opinion on how I should stand.  He shows me and as I take his place in front of the drum my mind draws a complete blank as to what the rhythm was that they'd just shown me.  So I just start hitting the drum hoping it will come to me but it doesn't.  I feel my face go red with embarrassment and I'm feeling my body's fight, flight or freeze mechanisms taking hold as I start panicking.  And then suddenly I feel arms reach around me from behind and Seido is basically hugging me from behind, puts his hands over mine and moves them in the pattern they're supposed to be playing.  I'm literally in shock and awe but finally my brain comes back online and I'm able to play the pattern and demonstrate, that yes, I'm not totally incompetent when it comes to playing the big odaiko.  Just mostly incompetant it seems when compared to these two.  Anyways, we had a cup of tea afterwards, I gave both of them Uminari Taiko t-shirts as a small token of my gratitude and the following picture was taken with Seido and Mizuho with their very kind office manager:

From Honeymoon Photos 2 - Arriving in Japan

If you look closely at the photo, you can see another photo on the wall above my head of Seido in his glory days.  I was floating off the ground when I left their office.  I was very humbled to have been able to learn from 2 great players of an artform I'm passionate about and who have spent most of their lives dedicated to it, by sharing, practicing & performing it.  It was definitely the highlight of my first week in Japan and a landmark for me as taiko player!