Winston Churchill

Memorial Trust

Travelling Fellowship Report

Outreach to Roots:

Strengthening the Pulse

of UK Taiko

by Hannah-Jasmine Brunskill

1

Contents:

Contents……………………………………………………………………………….1

Overview……………………………………………………………………………..2

Writing about taiko……………………………………………………………….4

Background………………………………………………………………………....5

Aims of the Fellowship……………………………………………………….12

Itinerary……………………………………………………………………………..13

Contacts……………………………………………………………………………..16

What I learned from taiko groups in Japan ………………………..17

What I learned from taiko groups in USA …………………………..38

Conclusions………………………………………………………………………..59

Looking ahead…………………………………………………………………….70

Further findings …………………………………………………………………73

The Winston Churchill Memorial Trust……………………………….75

2

“Life shrinks and expands in proportion to one’s courage”1

As adults, we are often asked what we ‘do’ for a living, and after what seemed a long time dreading

that question because I hadn’t yet found ‘the thing’ that I was going to do, I now dread the question

because I have yet to come up with a succinct way to explain what exactly taiko is. For those who

have no idea, I explain that taiko is a style of drumming that originated in Japan involving an

assortment of different sized and pitched drums, and that it has become a performance art where

the movement of the group of drummers is as important as the rhythms played. Although loosely

accurate, I find that this description, or any other, leaves out why I and so many others have allowed

it to take such a significant place in our lives. But if you ask me not what I do, but why I do it; why

people play taiko, what it takes to play taiko, and what it is that I love about the taiko and the

potential of it’s community, and you are striking very close to the heart of the matter.

During classes at The Taiko Centre, where I work for Kagemusha Taiko, I often say that it takes

courage to play taiko. How often in our adult lives are we putting ourselves ‘out there’ to be part of

a group where your contribution can be seen immediately, heard and felt at once by yourself, those

in your group, and by an audience? There is nowhere to hide in taiko: self-doubt can be heard in

each strike, discomfort in physical self can be seen within each movement, disconnection from self

and group can be felt from afar, and there’s no such thing as half-way. You can play taiko by

following along, diligently remembering what it is you are supposed to be doing, and you might

perform perfectly. But when you’re on stage, pushing yourself to step outside your comfort zone,

you sometimes have to make a decision within a split second of what to do next, and just go for it -

arms outstretched far beyond your finger tips, giving rise to a belly-backed kiai2 that draws strength

from the soles of the feet – it’s then that you realise, you’re alive! Suddenly it doesn’t matter if it

was right or not - at least you’re out there, and not living in fear of trying. Like so many things, taiko

is not about what you do, but the way you do it that makes the biggest impact.

I can watch a taiko player who is incredibly technically accomplished and I can appreciate it – it’s a

thought process and intellectual understanding. However, I am only moved by that performance if I

feel connection. There are many connections occurring within a taiko performance: within oneself,

with the instruments, with others in the group, with audience. To be in the presence of what I find to

be an inspiring taiko performance is about the external connections that you can feel. Someone

recently said that you can win an audience over when you make a mistake because they see how

you recover from it - you can either have a stiff upper lip and try to ignore it, or you can connect with

the audience, smile, and make it part of your performance. Reaching out to the audience and

inviting them to come along for the ride rather than watch it onstage – that’s what moves me. For

me it’s not about how many stick twirls you can fit into a space, how fast Miyake can be played, how

long someone can power through an Odaiko solo – it’s about the intention behind the performance,

about the connections being made through that art form.

1 This was a quote by Anais Nin sent to me by my father on my eighteenth birthday, and one that I have found to be quite true – in the

world of taiko just as much as any other.

2 ‘Kiai’ is a martial arts shout or yell used by many taiko players and groups.

3

Being aware of those connections, of that courage that’s needed to play – and making that as much

a part of the art form than the rhythm patterns and moves is an important part of taiko for me. It’s a

well-known fact that being good at something is largely directly reflected in how much time you

spend practicing it. Practice does make perfect. Whilst practice and skill are not to be underrated,

perfection is overrated. So you know how to be perfect at something. What are you doing it for?

What’s the point? What are you trying to say with your perfected skill? For me, the way that

something is done, the way you treat others in your group, how you are around the studio, what you

say when someone criticizes you, and what you do in a position of authority – that’s the stuff that

makes the difference between a greatly accomplished taiko group and an inspirational group of

people who happen to play taiko very well. At the heart of it lies compassion. Seeking to

understand, not judge, sharing information not opinion, treating all with equality and respect,

questioning why we think and act the way we do and developing awareness of our impact on others.

Do we play taiko to impress others? Are we off on a taiko high during a solo and disconnecting with

our group? Do we like it when people gasp and tell us how strong, committed and fit we must be

and how they could never do that? Or do we want people to feel inspired into action by what they

experience, having ignited a part of them that knows that they can achieve their potential, whatever

that is to them? Do we like people to see us as powerful or do we look to empower others?

Watching a TED talk3 in my lunch break recently, I heard a wonderful explanation of the word

‘courage’. Brene Brown (TEDx Houston, 2010 ‘The Power of Vulnerability’) explained that courage

was different from bravery; and that the word ‘courage’ came from the Latin for heart; that to have

courage is to tell the story of who you are, with your whole heart. When I see taiko that moves me,

regardless of anything tangible, I believe I am in the presence of people telling their stories of

successes and struggles, leaving behind who they think they should be and embracing their

vulnerability, who they really are, empowering themselves and inspiring others – that’s powerful

taiko. Following Brene Brown’s talk I see that taiko is really very simple to explain. For me, taiko is a

way of walking this journey we are all on, discovering who you are and exploring what you can do for

others along the way. Quite simply, what Brene Brown saw throughout her sociological studies as

important to people in all of life can be what taiko is really about: connection, courage and

compassion.

3 TED is a non-profit devoted to ideas worth spreading. Conferences/ talks are now global and can be seen online after the event at

www.ted.com. TEDx are independently organised TED events.

4

Writing about taiko

Those who know me know that I see little point in writing about taiko. I feel you can get lost in a

world so far removed from the action, the work, the inspiration and that really, all of what you think

about is best expressed within your playing, the way you are around the studio, stage, around others

in your group, the music you play and write and not in a written report or online discussion.

This report will not be an academic paper on taiko – Shaun Bender’s ‘Taiko Boom’ has done an

exemplary job of that. Heidi Varian’s ‘The Way of Taiko’ gives taiko history and view on taiko as a

way of a spiritual way of life, as learned from Seiichi Tanaka. Yoshitaka Terada’s ‘Transcending

Boundaries: Asian Musics in North America’, and ‘Rooted as Banyan Trees; Eisa and the Okinawan

Diaspora in Japan’ have been mind expansive reads that touch at the heart of two compelling issues

within the sphere of taiko and I feel lucky to have discussed with Terada personally – but they are

sociological and ethnomusicology papers. Jenifer Jue Uyeda’s ‘The Emergence of a Universal Taiko’

shares a year long journey around the world making connections, experiencing groups’ cultures and

styles and writing most eloquently about what she saw as commonalities and differences and

concluding with some utterly memorable realisations that have helped my understanding no end.

Social media has empowered people to ask their questions and explore, albeit virtually, the taiko

world. What could I write that will add value to the UK Taiko Community?

I will never have started playing taiko when I was six years old, or studied in Japan for ten years; I

have only travelled and met a handful of people around the world, and have only scratched the

surface of the UK taiko community. I feel like I am at the beginning of my taiko journey, with only

the beginnings of ideas forming. So, what I can do is to write about what I have discovered as new

to me, what has moved me, my aspirations for UK taiko. I will probably reveal the things I am not

proud of, the struggles I have had, the blocks I have allowed in certain areas of doing and thinking,

the times I have judged without compassion for another way of doing things, and my short fallings as

a taiko player, and also as a writer!

This report tells the story of my taiko journey as a snapshot in time – the UK taiko scene will change,

my ideas will change, and the world around us will change. People will always disagree with what

I’ve said, perhaps misunderstand me as I’ve portrayed something poorly; people will challenge my

decisions on who to visit, my thinking and my ideas. But I tell my story without fear of judgement

from others.

I don’t mind what people end up thinking of me after reading this; it’s what they end up thinking of

what they’re doing that I really care about. I have ended up writing this with a “what the heck?”

attitude, playfully not even finishing concepts that inspire me, and joyfully not worrying about

threads of thoughts weaving together perfectly –taiko is not about perfection, and as humans we

are incapable of it. To me, taiko is not supposed to be just impressive, cold and matter of fact.

Nothing is written as fact – everything is as I saw it, experienced it, interpreted it, internalised it and

expressed it. I may not answer everyone’s questions, but might just inspire another to open their

vision of this wonderful art form, to step out and taste the full flavour of the taiko community in all

its glorious diversity. Reading about it is just one step, but experiencing it is quite another. Taiko is

different for everyone; it’s truly a human phenomenon and humans are wonderfully complex, ever

changing, fascinating creatures.

5

Background to my Travelling Fellowship

SLOW BEGINNINGS

When I was nineteen a good friend told me that by the time I was thirty I would perform music on

stage, and I laughed in disbelief that someone that knew me so well could suggest something so

outrageously unlikely. Amongst my uncomfortable hilarity he very calmly said that he’d put money

on it: two years ago I wrote to him to tell him I owed him a fiver.

As I have discovered through talking to many taiko players over the past few months, people find

taiko in their lives for many different reasons; it reaches different needs and fulfils different roles in

people’s lives – and for that reason, although a team activity, and from the outside can look

synchronised and therefore uniform, taiko can be a very personal artistic or creative expression. In

the short time I have been involved with taiko, I have been entrusted with many people’s

stories…some will tell me up front why they have been drawn to taiko, while for others it is in their

life for very different reasons which they don’t share for years. From recovering from depression,

rediscovering themselves after years of housebound motherhood, fighting low self-esteem,

connecting with distant cultural roots, seeing and feeling music for the first time having lost their

hearing, overcoming an eating disorder, confronting their fear of having no rhythm, pushing

themselves to try something new or just giving themselves permission to have fun…although from

the outside it can just look like great fun, there are more examples out there of taiko being the

catalyst to a significant life change, and mine is one of these, although I didn’t realise it at the time.

Four years ago, I was in a job that didn’t mean anything to me, with a personal life with which I had

become disconnected. I had gone from job to job, experiencing all sorts of working environments,

from the mountains to the plains of Africa, from the Fire & Rescue Service to a business consultancy,

and I was still searching for something, unwilling to give in to settling for something less than

inspiring. I had taken opportunities, and learned great things, had a wonderful time, but still I had

no idea who I was or how I was going to find fulfilment in my working life. I wanted to find who I

was again. And so I found myself sitting at my kitchen table searching the internet for workshops

and courses and pondering the possibilities of a pottery class.

I had no idea what I was looking for, but I certainly knew when I found one with a youtube clip: the

combination of movement and music, the power and the grace, the thrilling synchronicity and

grounding group cohesion melded together in something that drew me in through the tiny screen

and tinny speakers of my laptop. And although it seems like a cliché now, I knew that afternoon

that I wanted that to be in my life and I knew that it was going to be for more than a workshop. Now

that might be because I was actively looking for something in my life. I might easily be sitting here

now writing a report on my world travels of pottery artisans, but somehow I think that if it weren’t

for seeing that youtube clip of Kagemusha Taiko, I might be on a totally different path and

occasionally drink my morning tea from a very wonky hand-thrown mug.

MUSICAL BEGINNINGS

My musical start in life was based around my mother’s love of classical music, and on the way to

school we would listen to Radio 3 or Classic FM, being tested on composers, instruments and

anything else we knew. My mother plays classical guitar beautifully, and as much as we begged for

6

her to teach us, she never did, and insisted that I have a proper musical education and attended

piano, clarinet and violin lessons at school, which I suffered for years. Aside from my earliest piano

years taught by my Aunt, a professional classical pianist who was so much fun due to being as mad

as a hatter, I think I had the least inspiring music teachers intent of ridding my musical life from all

passion whilst letting me know that I was terrible at everything - it was quite a mystery that I

continually passed my grade exams. Music theory was worse – dry, cold lonely dots on a stave,

foreign words which were never brought to life; it was an extension of my dislike of maths that

spilled over into my “hobby” time.

Playing music was something I stopped as soon as possible, and throughout and after school, I

surrounded myself with watching and listening to music. Most of my friends were in bands and I

spent my university days travelling to towns chasing Pearl Jam, Ben Harper and The Deftones all over

Europe, and in local dives listening to whatever was on. I looked at people everywhere and yearned

to be so filled with confidence, passion and talent that music just came out of me as it seemed to

everywhere I looked. I had no confidence, and I never picked up a guitar and thought I’d just live like

everyone else, singing in the shower, drumming the steering wheel and rocking air guitar in the

safety of my kitchen. I was waiting for someone to hear that small voice in me, realise my passion

and potential and give me the opportunity to do something to change my life. It never occurred to

me that that person would be me.

TAIKO BEGINNINGS

Something that day four years ago in my kitchen spoke to me more loudly than anything had before

– it made me overcome all of my fears of failure and insecurities and instead of closing my computer

and going outside, I wrote an email and two weeks later I got into a car, up the stairs of an arts

centre (a place I thought only future Picasso’s and Darcy Bussell’s frequented) and through the door

of a taiko drumming workshop. Sitting down in a circle and telling people my name and what had

brought me to the workshop that day was precisely the reason I had never been to a workshop

before and I would have run out the door if I’d had a chance. Telling everyone else why I was there

when I had no idea myself was horrendous to me, but I managed to say something and thoroughly

loved the two hours that followed. I hadn’t felt that good about doing something for years, and

couldn’t wait to do more; I continued with a few courses with Kagemusha Taiko and eventually

joined Tano4 Taiko, a Kagemusha Taiko group who performed mostly on grass or pavements at local

events. I actually needed persuading to join at first – Tano Taiko met once a week and I remember

the phone call with the group leader at the time, saying that I liked it so much that I didn’t want to

commit to it and only be able to do it once a week, that I was looking for something that was going

to take more of my time and could be a bigger part of my life. All I would say now is be careful for

what you wish for.

Finally persuaded, I joined and played, often finding excuses just to come along and take pictures of

the group rather than play - I was really uncomfortable being looked at, but I loved playing so much.

Suffice to say I still had a lot of confidence issues that weren’t really faced for a long time. I drank

everything up, and loved it, but not as much as I loved beating myself up about how bad I was, how

4 Tano Taiko is Kagemusha Taiko’s community group, ‘tano’ being short for ‘tanoshii’, the Japanese word that

loosely means ‘fun’.

7

much I couldn’t play yet, and was quick to point out the huge gap between my skills and everyone

else’s. Unfortunately for everyone else, I am terrible at hiding how I feel and I was often

accompanied to taiko sessions by a small black cloud of self-depreciation. As it only ever rained on

me I didn’t realise how much it affected everyone else, and I can only apologise for what I brought to

sessions back then. Almost quitting several times because I wasn’t seeing the progress in myself or

being given the harsh feedback that I felt I needed, I did eventually get over it, and played my first

theatre show…I couldn’t believe I was on stage amongst such brilliant people, and I was hooked.

Only a few months after that first show I began talking to Jonathan Kirby, Artistic Director and

founder of Kagemusha Taiko, about the possibility of a part time job with Kagemusha Taiko; in the

Spring of 2010 I became self-employed and started working for two days a week.

DIGGING DEEPER

Jonathan Kirby had always encouraged me to keep my eyes open and to explore taiko as much as I

could. Having trained with San Jose Taiko, California, for two years, he had brought their awareness

of context and community back with him in 1998. As soon as I heard of the chance to join San Jose

Taiko’s Taiko Weekend Intensive I jumped at the chance to save up and attended my first taiko

experience out of England. The ‘taiko’ related stuff – drills, styles, improvisation, composition,

technique, ki etc, was like sinking my feet into fertile soil and feeling roots begin to grow. Spending

time with and getting to know other taiko players was like opening my arms and breathing deeply

the air that surrounded the taiko world.

As we talked, I heard stories of groups not getting along, of painful splinters of groups, and long-time

difficulties between taiko teachers, and listened to some of the participants as they shared that they

were not ‘allowed’ by their sensei to be there that weekend. Two members of one group had

recently invested in making drums and had been discovered practicing taiko in their garage with

some friends for which they were cautioned, being told never to do it again if they wanted to

continue playing in that group. I sat listening to this as someone very new to this world, trying to

understand. It was a shock to listen to people’s stories that told of a taiko experience that was so

different to mine, and my eyes were truly opened to the complexities of the taiko art and

community. I understood then what Jonathan Kirby had always said; that taiko is a long path and I

knew that if I was to continue not just playing taiko but moving it towards the centre of my life, I

needed to find out much more.

BUT YOU’RE NOT JAPANESE

During that weekend, as a group we were asked to share why we played taiko. It was so good to

give real time to think about that. It was then that I remembered that years earlier amid my search

for a meaningful career, I had been asked to write down on a piece of paper everything that I saw as

part of a fulfilling life, and I laughed, realising that nearly every one of those seemingly abstract

ideals had been touched on, and at times utterly embraced by my taiko experience. I saw depth,

meaning and fulfilment, working with people, working to affect positive change, creating and

amplifying joy through human empowerment, personal development, walking with authenticity, and

belonging to something bigger, to a community. Why did I play taiko? Because it gave me a way to

be all that I could be: it was then that I realised that I felt a substantial connection with what I had

started to do as a weekend workshop.

8

In that same session, I was asked to question my ‘right’ to play taiko as a white English woman with

no Japanese lineage/heritage or experience of Japan or Japanese culture. It had never occurred to

me that people might be upset that I played taiko, but here I was told by one woman that I had

never felt pain due to my cultural background, and therefore didn’t understand what it meant to

play taiko. Of course Jonathan Kirby has made sure that I was aware of taiko’s history, the global

spread and diversity of taiko groups, and taiko’s role in community activism and Asian American

identity, but it was only here that I was amongst people for whom taiko played a role of cultural

identity, and I suddenly felt like I was trespassing. San Jose Taiko held the discussion well, and even

though it took a long time and of emotion for it to be brought to a close, it was brought to a close,

but for me, the window of doubt stayed open for a long, long time. I left thinking that perhaps I

didn’t have a good reason to play, that I would never play with true spirit, that I would be mimicking

something I could never understand. Perhaps taiko was something that should never have come to

a country without Japanese communities, should be left as an exclusive activity for those with

Japanese experience; perhaps context was so important and not translatable. But I wasn’t about to

give it up.

RE-INTEGRATING THIS WITH THE UK TAIKO SCENE

When I came back to England, long van rides provided a perfect setting for discussing all of this with

Jonathan in a home setting. How did it all translate? I had thought that everyone’s taiko experience

must be quite similar to my own in England – you had fun, worked hard, learned how to play these

wonderful drums and perhaps worked towards performing somewhere to experience sharing what

you’ve been working on with others. But I started to discover that the situation in England wasn’t

perhaps as simple as I had hoped. It was as if my eyes had been opened to the possibility of

complications and couldn’t be closed again.

Taiko has been played and practiced in the UK since the 1980s when Joji Hirota founded his group,

Joji Hirota and the Taiko Drummers. In 1993 James set up Akatsuki Daiko in Reading having returned

from playing with Hiroshima Taiko Hozonkai; in 1994 Mark Alcock returned from Gobi City having

played with Tennon Daiko, Neil Mackie and Miyuki Williams all returned from Japan having studied

with Masaaki Kuramaya and Jonathan Kirby returned from North America from his time with San

Jose Taiko; all having learned taiko and returning with the intention of continuing it back in the UK.

At one point or another, these figures all played together – they were the only ones in the country

who knew what taiko was. Since then there has been the formation of Taiko West (James Barrow),

Taiko Meantime (Mark Alcock), Tamashii Taiko (Liz Walters), Mugenkyo (Neil Mackie & Miyuki

Williams) and Kagemusha Taiko (Jonathan Kirby) – all playing gigs, teaching corporate, educational

and public workshops, and more, all to varying degrees. There are perhaps fifty community groups

and countless youth groups around the UK, with new groups arising every few weeks. It’s a thriving

community and the majority of people just want to play taiko when they can and think no more

about it – why would they?

Once you scratch the surface, like everything else, there are complications. There are bound to be

differences of opinions within any group of people who are passionate about something they do.

But I started to see people in positions of authority who will badmouth other taiko groups, group

members who have issues of secrecy and alienation within that group, people who will not allow

photographs to be taken during workshops because their group leader would not ‘allow’ them to be

9

there, and, generally speaking, a fair amount of people telling two different stories depending upon

who is listening. I have heard the same story from a few people – that they have left their taiko

group because they drove miles to their taiko session, arriving in fear and leaving with the feeling of

failure. My heart sank when one person told me that they entered each of their taiko sessions with

fear, and left feeling like a failure. Still so new to taiko, I didn’t pretend to understand what was

going on, but when someone asks, “so, playing taiko is allowed to be fun?” I responded as a human,

with confusion and sadness. There was something going on here that I wanted to know more about.

EXPLORING THE COMMUNITY

It seemed that wherever you were geographically located determined how far you would be able to

take your taiko playing. There was little cross-pollination after that first generation of players, and

although everyone seemed nice on the surface, there was no collaboration or pooling of resources.

Taiko players obviously have different styles, experiences, and opinions, but there wasn’t even a

healthy forum for discussing them, or, it seemed, much of a culture of exploring them. In the

summer of 2012, Tamsin Rosewell set up a Facebook page for the ‘UK Taiko Scene’ to encourage just

this – a forum for taiko players to take things into their own hands and get to know what was going

on. Since then, there has been a huge shift towards the new generation of taiko players being more

empowered, and more information out there for newer players – I think it’s changed the way the

community operates, and is now much more open. But that was not the case even a year ago.

The more time I spent working with taiko, the more I felt the responsibility of what I was doing. I

had been given the most extraordinary opportunity by Jonathan Kirby. He had given me the chance

to work as part of his company, play in his taiko group, had trusted me with years of teaching

experience consolidated into mere months, and asked for nothing in return. I was one of very few

full time taiko professionals in the UK. I not only performed but taught workshops and led taiko

group sessions, and due to Kagemusha Taiko’s extensive educational work, drum manufacture and

sales, and the organisation of the annual UK Taiko Festival, I had contact with a vast number of taiko

players.

Yet I had heard about taiko in Japan, but I had never experienced it. I listened to debates about how

taiko evolved around the world, its founders and where it came from, but I hadn’t really understood.

I’d heard rumours of different teaching styles, and some teachers with terrifying reputations and

thought them fundamentally wrong, but I hadn’t asked the questions. My role in the taiko

community was one of privilege, I felt certain about my future within it and I started to think about

what I wanted for the future growth of taiko in the UK. I didn’t feel I had enough personal

experience or knowledge to go about doing most of this, and so ultimately, I started to put together

a rough application for the Winston Churchill Memorial Trust’s Travelling Fellowship.

Whilst I see no interest in calling another out to be wrong in order to enjoy and strive to excel in

something I believe in, there is a the feeling of late that if I’m not making what I care about happen, I

may as well not feel or think anything at all. It is not enough to think things quietly in the

background, that at some point we are called to put our thoughts to action. From conversations I’ve

had with other UK taiko players, others share my thoughts but have not spoken up. Recently I have

hear the phrase “I feel like that too. Please, please put that in your report – we need to know that

others feel that way too, but we’re not allowed to say so.” I do not consider anything I have to say

particularly controversial and do not want to offend anyone. Some would encourage not to get

10

involved, and just to play taiko and be the way you want to be – but I feel that someone needs to

speak up so that we can move forward.

BACK TO THE USA

Just as these thoughts and feelings began to grow, I was given the opportunity to go to the North

American Taiko Conference to perform as part of a Kagemusha Taiko group. I met and learned from

taiko legends, stood as one of hundreds of taiko players, ate with them, laughed with them, learnt

with them. Time was given to discussion panels as much as workshops, random taiko jams occurred

on upturned dustbins and everywhere people were talking about taiko, getting deep into

discussions…it was a haven in which to unleash the geeks within us and so fed and nurtured the

community in all respects. Groups from different countries, cultures, backgrounds and lineages

were together. The taiko pioneers played together onstage, respecting their differences and

celebrating that they had each found their way in taiko. I knew that this is what I wanted one day for

the UK Taiko Festival.

Somehow I ended up talking to some key figures in the global taiko community about an idea I had

had to apply to the Winston Churchill Memorial Trust for a Travelling Fellowship – to reach out and

explore taiko’s global roots. I talked for hours with Shoji Kameda (On Ensemble and founder of

global taiko Facebook group) and Yoshihiko Miyamoto, (President of Miyamoto Unosuke, taiko

makers since 1861) and I was astounded by the energy they gave the conversation seeming as we’d

only just met. I spoke briefly to PJ Hirabayashi (co-founder of San Jose Taiko) about my passion to

explore taiko for myself, and it was met with joy and support. Kenny Endo (Taiko Centre of the

Pacific), still buzzing from playing on stage replied with nothing but true openness when he was

asked if I could go and study with him in Hawaii. They really believed passionately that I should go

and experience taiko globally and I found quickly that they weren’t empty words – they would help

be greatly throughout the process and connected me with people right up until I left.

The Winston Churchill Memorial Trust’s Travelling Fellowship has given me so much personally and

professionally. It has come in totally unexpected ways and has blossomed uncontrollably ever since

I returned. Sometimes you’re not sure why something actually changed - I know that I would have

developed naturally in many ways over the last twelve months, but I just know that the thoughts I’m

having, the connections I’ve made, confidence I’ve gained, and the plans and inspiration I have for

the future is directly due to this wonderfully enriching experience.

PJ Hirabayashi offered to mentor me throughout my taiko journey – an unprecedented honour that

has been the most influential connection in not only my taiko life, but on my own journey of self

empowerment and discovery. When I visited PJ & Roy Hirabayashi to attend a workshop before the

Fellowship began, they spent hours helping me plan, make connections and make the very most of

my time. The significance of this Fellowship and its success would not have been what it is without

their ongoing support.

11

Yoshihiko Miyamoto5 and the incredible support of Ai Matsuda (employee of Miyamoto Unosuke Co

Ltd) were both instrumental in the success of the Japan leg of my Travelling Fellowship. It was

Yoshihiko Miyamoto who encouraged my thinking about how I wanted to spend my time, with who,

and what really I wanted to get out of my time there. He challenged my thinking and was always

passionate that I experience at least one matsuri6 - advice that I shall never forget. He also did all he

could and more to look after me in Tokyo – I will owe him my thanks for a long time to come.

Jonathan Kirby (Founder of Kagemusha Taiko) has been endlessly supportive, not just in this

endeavour, but in my entire taiko career. If it wasn’t for this man and all he has done over the last

decade and more, I would never have found myself in this situation. It’s all too easy to stop stating

the obvious when you work with someone every day, but it will never be easy to forget the

astounding influence this has every day. Not only has he given me the taiko foundations that I

needed to build on, but he saw something in me that I didn’t see myself, and not only encouraged it,

he trusted it and offered me the situation that has made the single biggest impact on my life. It goes

far beyond circumstance, as it’s the way that he has built Kagemusha Taiko to encourage discovery

of other teachers, other experiences, other ways, and embraces the global and national taiko

community that opened my eyes to the vast potential of this art form. His reputation for work in the

education sector has been something to marvel at, and has inspired my desire to teach. His

compositions and artistic vision have made my taiko performance experiences something to be

phenomenally proud of, and to aspire to. Jonathan Kirby’s support over the last few years has been

humbling, and appreciated far beyond words. When I suggested that he join me for the Japan leg of

the journey, he took no time at all in agreeing that it would be a great step for Kagemusha Taiko as a

company – for both of us to have this rich taiko experience together. He just made it happen

because he believed that it would be worth it. Travelling as a representative of this globally known

and respected taiko group has been nothing short of an utter privilege and an honour. Where I find

myself within the taiko community within Kagemusha Taiko, nationally and globally, I do so because

of him, and it’s something I will be eternally grateful for. However, I don’t claim that the opinions

formed while on this Fellowship and represented here are anything but my own: differences of

opinion, diverse interests and directions all make for a richer community.

5 President of Miyamoto Unosuke Co Ltd, one of Japan’s two most famous taiko makers, since 1861.

6 Matsuri is the word in Japanese for festival or holiday where celebrations occur generally in conjunction with

an agricultural occasion – rice harvest or other – where kami (spirits or gods) are celebrated and housed in

mikoshi (portable shrines) and taken through the streets in celebration.

12

Aims of the Fellowship

Although the concepts and inspiration had been brewing for a while, actually deciding on what I

wanted to go out there are do was tough. I could spend two years visiting groups, meeting taiko

pioneers and innovators, learning different styles of taiko and still not even touch some of the

diversity in this great community. I thought I understood a little about this community now, but I

was just like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole…I actually had no idea. Looking back, I think I tried

to do too much – this is a huge remit, and focussing on one of the aims would have been quite

enough, but without a context, with no broad picture as a backdrop, I think all else would not be as

clear, so I’m glad I chose to chase so many rainbows, and stand by my mission: to strengthen the

pulse of UK Taiko. This was specifically defined as:

To gain greater confidence & skill in teaching taiko so that I can begin to branch out and reach a

wider audience of all ages and abilities in order to promote confidence, personal responsibility and

power in others.

To gain greater confidence & skill in performing taiko onstage across the UK in order to inspire

others through performance.

To learn about taiko as a community builder and promote compassion as a way of taiko and a way of

life through an initiative called ‘TaikoPeace’, initiated by PJ Hirabayashi

To strengthen UK connections with other taiko groups throughout the world

To promote ergonomic taiko playing and kata based taiko in the UK where this is currently not

strong characteristic of UK taiko – to be seen in performances by UK taiko groups

To embrace the opportunity of learning from pioneers in worldwide taiko history whilst they are still

around and still involved, so I can pass on knowledge and skills with integrity

To encourage the celebration of taiko’s diversity and opportunity for innovation as well as tradition –

this will be seen in performances at UK taiko festival and cultures of taiko groups around the UK.

In order to accomplish this, I decided to trace the route of taiko from Japan, over to Hawaii, then to

the West Coast USA in California and then return to the UK. Having planned initially to spend three

months in Japan, for many reasons I am glad to have opened my vision to the rest of the taiko world

– to ignore a taiko culture that has been established for over forty years when the art as we know it

has been alive for just sixty, would be a grave oversight. I knew there was much to learn in all of

these places, and my travels to each of them proved me right in a decision to travel so far and fit so

much in.

13

Itinerary (of a 16664 mile journey)

July 5th

: Travel to Narita, Japan

Travel to Tokyo

Meet & session with Ms Mizuho Zako, Mr Seido & Mrs Yuriko Kobayashi of Oedo Sukeroku

Taiko

July 6th

: Meet & session with Oedo Sukeroku Taiko

Meet & session with Kasuhiro Tsumura, Miyake Taiko

July 7th

: Meet with Ai Matsuda, Miyamoto Unosuke Co to see Bachiatari show

July 8th

: Travel to Sendai

Meet with Fumio Oikawa, Kamo-Tsunamura-Daiko & Kubo, Yoneyama Maruyama Taiko to

watch Kamo-Tsunamura-Daiko’s 15th

Anniversary concert

Travel to Yoneyama Prefecture

July 9th

: Spend the day with Nippon Taiko Foundation at Kindergarten School, Yoneyama Prefecture

Meet & play with Yoneyama Maruyama Taiko

July 10th

:Travel back to Tokyo City

Meet & session with Ms Mizuho Zako, Mr Seido & Mrs Yuriko Kobayashi of Oedo Sukeroku

Taiko

July 11th

: Workshop with Kasuhiro Tsumura, Miyake Taiko

July 12th

: Meet & session with Chris Holland & Watanabe-Sensei of Amanojaku

July 13th

: Meet with Ai Matsuda & Yoshihiko Miyamoto, Miyamoto Unosuke Co

Meet & session with Chris Holland & Watanabe-Sensei of Amanojaku

Meet & session with Kiyonari Tosha of Nihon Taiko Foundation

July 14th

: Meet & session with Chris Holland & Watanabe-Sensei of Amanojaku

Travel to Kyoto City

July 15th

: Meet with Masumi Kamata, Professor at Doshisha University

July 16th

: Gion Matsuri Festival!

July 17th

: Travel to Suita, Osaka

Meet with Yoshitaka Terada, National Museum of Ethnology

Travel to Tokyo

July 18th

: Meet & session with Chris Holland & Watanabe-Sensei of Amanojaku

Meet with Yoshihiko Miyamoto, Miyamoto Unosuke Co

July 19th

: Travel to Narita, depart for London, England

14

July 24th

: Travel from London to San Jose, California, USA

Meet with PJ & Roy Hirabayashi of San Jose Taiko

July 25th

: Meet with Yurika Chiba, Franco Imperial, Wisa Uemera, Geoff Noone & Meg Suzuki

of San Jose Taiko

July 26th

: Meet with San Jose Taiko to observe rehearsal

Meet with Pear Urushima, associate member San Jose Taiko

July 27th

: Travel to Mount Shasta with San Jose Taiko

July 28th

: Shastayama Festival!

Shasta Taiko, Kris Bergstrom, Michelle Fuji & Toru Watanabe, Masato Baba, San Jose Taiko

Meet Mark Miyoshi of Miyoshi Taiko

July 29th

: Travel to San Jose

July 30th

: Meet & session with PJ Hirabayashi

July 31st

: Meet & session with PJ Hirabayashi

Aug 1st

: Travel to Wailuku, Maui, Hawaii

Aug 2nd

: Meet with Tony Jones of Zenshin Daiko

Aug 4th

: Meet with Paul Hiranaga & Brain Ngama of Maui Taiko

Kahului Jodo Mission’s Obon Festival!

Aug 5th

: Meet & observation of Maui Taiko session

‘Breaking Atoms - Broken Lives’ talk on Hiroshima/Nagasaki Commemoration, University of

Hawaii.

Aug 6th

: Meet with Kaye & Ronald Fukumoto of Maui Taiko

Aug 7th

& 8th

: Travel around Maui Island

Aug 9th

: Travel to Honolulu, Oahu, Hawaii

Meet, session & observation with Kenny Endo of Taiko Centre of Pacific

Aug 10th

: Meet, session & observation with Kenny Endo of Taiko Centre of Pacific

Meet with Hawaii Matsuri Taiko at Obon Festival celebrations, Waikiki

Aug 11th

: Meet, session & observation with Kenny Endo of Taiko Centre of Pacific

Meet Shuji Komagata & see performance of Someii Taiko, Aeia Temple Obon Festival

Aug 12th

: Meet & session & observation with Kenny Endo of Taiko Centre of Pacific

15

Aug 13th –

Aug 17th

: Summer Taiko Intensive at Taiko Centre of the Pacific

Sessions with Kenny Endo

Sessions with Riley Lee of Taikoz

Meet with members of Kenny Endo Taiko Ensemble

Meet with Peter Brown of Manhattan Taiko

Meet with Joan Froelich of Bergenfield High School Taiko Club

Meet with Paul Sakomoto of Puna Taiko

Aug 16th

: Meet with Faye Kumagata & Ikuko Kamitani of Hawaii Matsuri Taiko

Aug 18th

: Meet with Faye Kumagata & Ikuko Kamitani of Hawaii Matsuri Taiko

at Sotto Mission Obon Festival, Honolulu

Aug 19th

: See Kenny Endo, Riley Lee & Jeff Peterson performance

Travel back to Maui

Aug 20th

: Meet with Tony Jones of Zenshin Daiko & Yuta Kato

Aug 21st

: Travel to San Jose

Aug 22nd

: Meet & session with PJ Hirabayashi

Aug 23rd

: Meet & session with PJ Hirabayashi

Aug 24th

: Meet & session with PJ Hirabayashi

Aug 25th

– 26th

: Work day with San Jose Taiko, meet with Stanford Taiko members

Meet with Pear Urushima, associate member of San Jose Taiko

Aug 27th

: Meet with Judith Kajiwara, Butoh dance teacher and TaikoPeace Activist

Aug 28th

: Meet with Judith Kajiwara, Butoh dance teacher and TaikoPeace Activist

Aug 29th

: Meet & session with PJ Hirabayashi

Aug 30th

: Meet & session with PJ Hirabayashi

Meet with Meg Suzuki, San Jose Taiko

Aug 31st

: Meet & session with PJ Hirabayashi

Meet with Yurika Chiba, San Jose Taiko

Sept 1st –

2nd

: Meet with Pear Urushima, associate member of San Jose Taiko

Meet with Adam Weiner, San Jose Taiko

Sept 3rd

: Meet & session with PJ Hirabayashi

Sept 4th

: Travel to London, England

16

Contacts

This is a list of all the taiko people & groups that I connected with regarding my Fellowship in the

planning stages, the travelling part of the Fellowship, and who have been instrumental in the

continuation of the Fellowship in order to create this report and draw conclusions useful to the taiko

community here in the UK.

On Ensemble - Shoji Kameda & Kristofer Bergstrom, Los Angeles, USA

Oedo Sukeroku – Mizuho Zako & Kobayashi Sensei, Tokyo, Japan

Miyake Taiko – Tsumura, Tokyo, Japan

Amanojaku – Chris Holland & Yoichi Watanabe, Tokyo, Japan

Miyamoto Unosuke - Yoshihiko Moyamoto & Ai Matsuda, Tokyo, Japan

Nihon Taiko Dojo - Kiyonari Tosha Sensei, Tokyo, Japan

Hawaii Eisa - Grant Murata “Sandaa Sensei”, Oahu, Hawaii, USA

Yoneyama Maruyama Daiko –Mr Kubo, Miyage Prefecture, Japan

Nippon Taiko Foundation Japan

Kamo-Tsunamura-Daiko – Fumio Oikawa, Sendai, Japan

Museum of Ethnology – Taiko in Music Exhibit - Yoshitaka Terrada, Osaka, Japan

Taiko Historian & Sociologist Professor at Doshisha University - Masumi Kamata, Kyoto, Japan

Zenshin Daiko – Tony Jones, Maui, Hawaii, USA

Maui Taiko – Kaye Fukumoto, Maui, Hawaii, USA

Hawaii Matsuri Taiko – Faye Komagata, Oahu, Hawaii, USA

Somei Taiko – Shuji Komagata, Oauhu, Hawaii, USA

Kenny Endo Taiko Ensemble – Kenny & Chizuko Endo, Oahu, Hawaii, USA

Manhattan Taiko – Peter Brown, New York City, USA

Bergenfield High School Taiko Club – Joan Froelich, New Jersey, USA

Taikoz - Riley Lee, Australia

San Jose Taiko – Franco Imperial & Wisa Uemera, San Jose, California, USA

PJ & Roy Hirabayashi - San Jose Taiko founders & TaikoPeace, San Jose, California, USA

Pear Urushima – San Jose Taiko, San Jose, California, USA

Portland Taiko – Michelle Fuji & Toru Watanabe, Portland, Oregon, USA

Shasta Taiko – Jeannie & Russel Mercer, Mount Shatsa, California, USA

Mark Miyoshi - Denver Taiko, Mount Shatsa, California, USA

Yuta Kato – global taiko artist

Stanford Taiko – Stanford University, California, USA

Judith Kajiwara - Dancer, Artist, TaikoPeace, Oakland, California, USA

Taiko Meantime – Mark Alcock, London, UK

Taiko West - James Barrow , Wales, UK

Kagemusha Taiko – Jonathan Kirby, Devon, UK

Mugenkyo – Neil Mackie & Miyuki Williams, Lanark, UK

Tamashii Daiko - Liz Walters, London, UK

17

“Let the Taiko talk”- Seido Kobayashi, Oedo Sukeroku

Meeting with Seido Kobayashi and Oedo Sukeroku was suggested to me by Roy and PJ Hirabayashi

as we sat waiting for my plane in San Francisco Airport. It was so important to me to try to get to

meet the taiko pioneers of the world whilst still possible, and whilst of course I never even made it

to Sado Island to visit the most famous taiko group in the world, Kodo, and would never get to meet

some of the initiators of what we call taiko today, this particular taiko group had given so much to

the art form, that I couldn’t quite believe it when Jonathan Kirby and I first found the little door to

the Oedo Sukeroku studio in the depths of Kanda, Tokyo. During only a few days of meetings, taiko

sessions and socialising, I learned a great deal from this legendary group; myths were dispelled,

pennies dropped, great food was eaten and long term connections were made.

YODAN UCHI

Oedo Sukeroku had been on my taiko radar for a long time – at San Jose Taiko I had learned of the

big debate over one of their famous pieces, and the styles and the controversy over other groups

performing it, and what the impact that had on the taiko community, and people’s view of Oedo

Sukeroku as a group. One of the world’s top ten most famous taiko songs, Yodan Uchi, had been

written by the original configuration of this group (they have then since split and re-formed) and the

general word on the street is that it’s a great piece, and that a lot of taiko groups will know how to

play a version of it. Most people will also know that you’re not supposed to perform any version of

it that includes the particular drum set up, and a rhythm “Don, Tsu, Dokko Don” without the group’s

specific permission. I’m not about to go into any of the particular details, but I was confused as to

why someone would then try and patent the style of playing when it’s already so “out there” in the

taiko community.

Meeting Seido Kobayashi allowed me to understand it a little better – the group had written the

piece, and some years later came across a group miles away in Japan who were playing the exact

piece, beat for beat, but were calling it something different – no accreditation or even nod towards

its origins. This wasn’t a one-off occasion and I can understand then why, as professionals trying to

make money out of this, they would try to limit who was allowed to play this catchy, iconic and

much loved taiko piece and style. There are some great versions of the piece out there, and there

are some not so great versions – what Oedo Sukeroku is trying to do is to ensure the quality of what

is “out there” as Oedo Sukeroku, or Yodan / Nidan Uchi style. If you train with them, you will

understand where the movement comes from. You will be able to ask questions about the timing of

the specific movements, and know the origins of the piece. In short, you will perform it better and

more authentically than first experiencing the piece as audience, and then learning it away from that

group, just copying the movements rather than understanding their source, their reason. What they

want to ensure is quality, which is not a new concept in the arts – schools wanting to produce a

West End Musical have to enter into a hefty licensing agreement.

Having been a little on the fence about that whole debate, I now know where I stand with it: there’s

a difference between playing it and performing it. I love the experiences I’ve had on workshops and

classes playing this style – there’s a reason it is so popular, and is great fun both to watch and play.

18

The creative potential is huge, like being in a taiko playground. However, to earn money from

playing it is perhaps not quite so free and easy morally, when you know that the composer of that

style and a particular rhythm you are using specifically doesn’t want you to do that. This encroaches

on a bigger theme that I won’t go into here….artistically, do you want to go out and play something

that has come from somewhere else when you have no personal connection with it, the composer, it

is against their wishes and you may not understand the piece as well. Therefore you are unlikely to

be performing it as well as other groups who have learnt it directly from the source. But just

because you play it differently doesn’t make it automatically worse. Is there such a thing as

originality anyhow; isn’t all art derived from something that already existed? Seido Kobayashi is

confused as to why a group would want to perform a piece written by someone else, but respects

people who make the effort to travel to talk to him about it, and take the time to learn from the

source; although it may be years before you are deemed ready to perform and teach it, the quality

will not have been diminished.

This debate intrigues me as a concept and I’m still not sure where I stand with it. This style isn’t

hugely popular in the UK, but I think it will inevitably start showing up in workshops and

compositions (and already has in a few cases). Ultimately people need to have accurate and

respectful information so that they can make informed decisions. There are so many convincing,

beautiful, inspirational versions of this piece being performed, and it feels a shame that they sit

under this raincloud. It can be seen as stifling creativity, but personally I think that they have made

their feelings very clear and it’s best to respect their wishes. See it as a challenge to come up with

something just as catchy, fun and beautiful to watch. I can only hope that this particular example

has prevented other such situations arising. Copyright issues and public domain pieces has become

a hot topic on the global Taiko Community Facebook page, with some real pioneers working hard to

make this as clear as possible for everyone.

PURITY OF SOUND: DON & KA

Having asked Seido Kobayashi ‘what is taiko all about?’ I understood much better what I had gleaned

from watching their performances (albeit through DVD). Their style is very pure. It sounds a strange

word full of other meaning, but if you see them play, you’ll know what I mean. There are very few

other instruments and sounds used in their compositions, and I had mistakenly thought that this was

because they were preserving the traditional cultural elements of taiko. It happens that it’s quite

the opposite. In fact, after the original group Sukeroku Taiko’s split, Seido Kobayashi had joined

another manifestation of the group, only to leave because they wanted to become a preservation

group; that wasn’t what Seido Kobayashi wanted at all. He wanted to push the boundaries of taiko,

explore, to be inventive and creative. It was then that he started the pursuit of the purity of the

sound of taiko. His style is about two sounds only: ‘Don’ and ‘Ka’. It’s about exploring the depths of

those sounds because those sounds are so simple. He believes (he firmly believes that any taiko

group should set out to do something in particular, to be pursuing a specific goal) that these are the

only true sounds of the taiko, and that the real challenge is to create a taiko song that is as exciting,

as rich, as any other music piece, just with these two sounds. Taiko, for him shouldn’t be too fast or

too flashy; you should be able to follow the music with your emotion. One of my favourite things he

said was “let the taiko talk”.

19

WHAT IS TAIKO?

Our most in-depth conversation began with me excusing my impoliteness, but stating that I wasn’t

interested in being polite – that we had travelled across the globe to talk honestly, in the spirit of

finding things out for ourselves, to ask questions – to which he smiled, and continued to speak with

obvious honesty, some of which I will always respect and never share publicly!

For Seido Kobayashi, taiko is three things, in this order: it is an instrument, to play; it is spiritual; it is

cultural. Although this might seem obvious, for me, this had huge impact. First and foremost he

regards it as an instrument, and lastly as a cultural activity. Of course he does think it is important

that young Japanese people learn to play taiko, as he wants the art form to continue to grow, but he

says that now, he makes learning taiko be about having fun. He says it’s important to catch people’s

hearts first, their attention. And then, once they have decided to commit to a longer term taiko

path, he can start on the cultural and spiritual aspects of the instrument. So at first, taiko is about

fun. It certainly was when he started playing Bon taiko, back in the day, standing on top of that

festival structure playing the taiko in front of everyone, being the best he could be; it was everyone’s

energy from the matsuri below that became his blood, his energy…for all the sedate seriousness of

the Oedo Sukeroku style it is this element that he loves about taiko still. After all, when we asked

him why he first started playing taiko, he said something that made me love his humility, something

that has made me respect this living taiko legend even more – he wants to be utterly honest,

knowing that nothing can take away from his dedicated passion for the art. So, Seido Kobayashi,

why did you start playing taiko? “To do something different, to be noticed, to get girls’ attention!”

His wife, Yuriko Kobayashi, sitting beside him agreed, smiling her edgy Tokyo woman’s smile – it

obviously worked for her!

20

WHAT OF TAIKO IN THE UK?

For Oedo Sukeroku, playing taiko anywhere in the world is about the same thing: it’s taking the

instrument and doing something original with it that’s important. The worst thing to do is to look at

something someone else is doing and try to copy it. It needs to come from within, expressing who

you are. He thinks that taiko spreading is a good thing. Of course that means that taiko is going to

change as it travels around the globe, but as long as people make the effort to come back to Japan,

to find out about it, to learn, then it will stay connected. Ultimately he believes in kumi-daiko7

spreading around the world as new music, being applied to other cultures.

Years ago, Seido Kobayashi had refused to give Kagemusha Junior Taiko a taiko session – he said that

they would never have ‘kokoro’8. Understandably, Jonathan Kirby had been disappointed, and I

think that had always coloured his view of Seido Kobayashi ever so slightly. We talked to him about

it, and got to a different understanding: people come and spend one year learning in Japan, and they

still don’t understand what it is to be Japanese, to feel Japanese spirit. People can spend up to ten

years here, and learn lots of things and become very knowledgeable, but when they go, they will still

not be Japanese. It is, he says, better to learn how you want to be, how you want to play and be

authentic about that. What would these English juniors gain from just one session that would help

them grow how they wanted to play taiko? He actually had a good point in not doing something

that he could easily have just taken the money for. It certainly made me think about what they point

is, ever, of taking one workshop with someone – it depends on what you want from it, I guess.

Of course, we got the meaning of this point in technical terms, and I continued to do so as I followed

taiko around the globe. We spent a few hours with Oedo Sukeroku, learning their style, and of

course, it’s entirely different from our style. The grip is at the bottom of hand when playing

7 ‘Kumi-daiko’ is another word for the style of playing the Japanese drums that has become known as taiko.

8 ‘Kokoro’ loosely translates as Japanese heart or spirit.

21

naname9. You should stand much closer to the drum, with front foot well into the footprint of the

drum stand. The left hand moves much higher than right hand. The legs are closer together,

standing more upright, and leaning a little into the drum, with weight down. More volume means

leaning closer into the drum, using your body’s weight and power. These specifics are all tuned into

their goal, for “good posture creates good sound”! From this lengthy description of a tiny details, I

won’t go into the technical aspects of what I learned…that will be far more appropriate in practical

sessions, but suffice to say, studying with them gave us a great insight, and sure, we learned a few

tricks, but you really do need to study for a long, long time to learn someone else’s entire style – and

then you’re missing out on everyone else’s style and of course developing your own!

A sub-culture of taiko - Kasuhiro Tsumura, Miyake Daiko

Attending two long workshops with Miyake Daiko was an interesting experience. I’d never really

played Miyake10

style before, and only ever seen Kodo and Taiko Meantime play it live, but of course

have seen countless renditions of it on video.

9 ‘Naname’ is a popular name for taiko stands that hold the drum at an angle, often called ‘slant stands’.

10 Miyake or ‘Miyake-jima Kamitsuki Mikoshi Daiko’ is a style of taiko playing from Miyake-jima, an island of

Japan. It was popularised and put on stage by Kodo drummers of Sado Island and involves a very low stance

and requires considerable strength and stamina.

22

Actually getting in there and learning from Tsumura was a phenomenal experience – physically

above anything else. Having said that, amidst the onslaught of twenty sweaty people and three

huge drums in a small space and the well-planned transitions between them all, I found a moment of

calm, where I learned to listen to the spaces in between the beats of the ji-uchi11

. It is at times

amongst utter confusion about arms, feet, weight shifting and rhythm patterns that you find a gem

of understanding about something you have played often. I would need months to learn this style

and play it anywhere near convincingly and a lifetime to understand the intricacies of it – one lady

attends the Miyake class once a week and has done for ten years and she still feels like she’s learning

something.

For me, Miyake is a fully-fledged sub-culture of taiko that has captured many people’s hearts, and

remains for me a mysterious unknown. For me I think it will remain something that I will have huge

respect for rather than try to master – and my respect for it has increased ten fold since my

experiences in Tokyo with Miyake Taiko.

‘We’re here now’ - Fumio Oikawa, Kamo-Tsunamura Daiko

It had never been in my original plans to go to Sendai, or to travel to Miyage Prefecture to meet

Yoneyama Maryuma Taiko, but Jonathan Kirby had been very passionate about making this happen.

It turned out to be a significant moment in my taiko journey, no less my life, for which I will be

eternally grateful to Jonathan and the connections of Kagemusha Taiko.

11

‘ji-uchi’ is the backbeat, or base rhythm that sits under another pattern or rhythm.

23

EARTHQUAKE DISASTER AND THE RECOVERY OF NORTH-EASTERN HONSHU

Travelling out of Tokyo City on the shinkansen12

, I had a couple of hours to consider how little I

actually knew about the tsunami and earthquake disaster of 2011. Of course I’d seen the images

and heard the news like everyone else, had participated in a couple of fundraisers, and had been in

email contact with a couple of my school friends from around Tokyo, who went through a a very

dark time with their country in ruins, but we never got to talk about details of what had happened,

and almost more importantly, what was going to happen in the future. It was only when I started to

get through the process of applying for the Churchill Fellowship that I began to investigate, and after

contact with the Transition Town network, was advised against staying in Japan for any length of

time. I had in fact changed my plans because of this reason – in theory, it had felt like a legitimate

thing to do, but now, sitting on that bullet train seat zooming off to the north it occurred to me that I

hadn’t thought about my personal health or safety once since being in Japan; you just don’t. I had

been warned against eating rice, or fresh vegetables, drinking water…how do you visit someone’s

home and say that you don’t want to eat the food they offer you because you’re worried it might

affect how you are after your three week visit to their home country? Well, it never crossed my

mind again in the realms of personal safety, but a great deal of that few days up north was spent

talking about that fateful few days in 2011: it opened my eyes to a vast amount of information and

has had lasting effect.

At Kamo-Tsunamura Daiko’s after-show party, we were in delightful celebration with Fumio Oikawa,

the group leader as their entire taiko community squashed inside a restaurant to eat, drink and talk

taiko. We were discussing the possibility of a group exchange which Jonathan Kirby and I were of

course excited about arranging. Through the power of broken English/Japanese, we were trying to

tell him that 2013 was not a good summer to come over, but the following Autumn was a possibility.

Fumio rushed to get something out of his bag and pulled out a newspaper report showing

decreasing radiation levels in Sendai – both Jonathan Kirby and I were knocked over at once: he

thought we didn’t want to come because of that. Re-assuring him countless times was hard – all we

could say was, “we’re here now, aren’t we?” We had no understanding of what it must be like to be

living there; we had just bustled out of a huge concert hall having watched Fumio’s group (including

his family) display Miyake, Chichibu Yatai-bayashi13

, Hachijo, Shishi-mai, Fan Dances, Omiyage14

and

other taiko pieces brimming with character, energy and grace in their fifteen year anniversary

concert. No-one would guess what they had all been through, and were still going through daily.

12

‘Shinkansen’, is a very fast ‘bullet’ train.

13 Chichibu Yatai Bayashi is a style of taiko, like Miyake, that was taken from Chichibu-matsuri, a local festival

outside Tokyo, and popularised. It is played seated, with a sever angle having to be held by stomach muscles

and is regarded as taking incredible strength and stamina to perform well.

14 ‘Omiyage’ is a popular taiko piece written by ‘Taiko Project’, a group from Los Angeles, USA. It was a gift

(omiyage is a gift in Japan) to the taiko world, and groups are encouraged to play it, embelleshing and adapting

it to make it their own.

24

‘Full Circle’ - Mr Kubo, Yoneyama Maryuma Taiko

It wasn’t until we had spent the next day with Mr Kubo being shown around Miniamisinraku– a town

that no longer exists due to the tsunami. This was a day that a full circle was made for me, and one

that strengthened my resolve to make my taiko life about people and about connections more than

anything else.

Years ago Jonathan Kirby had taken Kagemusha Junior Taiko to Japan in an exchange with Mr Kubo’s

group, Yoneyama Maryuma. I had heard about it, seen pictures, and the piece that had come from

that exchange was the first taiko piece I ever learned. In 2011 during a Kagemusha Taiko benefit gig

I stood behind a taiko drum and listened as Oliver Kirby, who had been on that trip as a junior, read

out a letter from Mr Kubo that he had cycled miles to send during the disaster. It told of the

desecration that had happened, and trauma of those taiko families that had become friends, but

most poignantly, it said that it wasn’t the money that was going to make a difference to their lives; it

was knowing that their friends on the other side of the planet were thinking about them and sending

them their energy and love.

As we drove up to Mr Kubo’s house, a year later, Jonathan Kirby whispered to me that he didn’t

recognise it. It wasn’t until we got inside and Mr Kubo’s wife showed us pictures that we realised

that they had lost their entire house, and had never said a word to us.

Walking around Miniamisinraku with the town officials is something I will never forget – the

disastrous state that the area is still in, and effectively the government have arrived with a dustpan

and brush. People’s efforts have been huge, but the government won’t ask for help, and most of the

money hasn’t yet been released. After wondering how there could be a positive reason for coming

here, I realised: what we can do is spread the word that progress is being made, that people have

found ways to be positive, that they are still smiling. This disaster will not be forgotten but strength

has been found for life to continue.

Back in Mr Kubo’s garden, Yoneyama Maryuma Taiko were setting up their drums to play – after an

emotional day it didn’t take much for me to get overwhelmed by watching the piece that had been

the inspiration for a Kagemusha Taiko piece that I had played many times called ‘Frantic’. Seeing

Jonathan Kirby re-connect with that group after so many years, teenagers grown up with kids of

their own, was worth travelling for alone. Nothing but being there would have given me such

connection with that group, with that piece, with those amazing people who are living there today

so close to a demolished physical community – they said that when they are reminded of it daily,

they loose energy and hope, but they are still there, refusing to go; and that is enough to keep

people going. They get together and play taiko, and I can see now why it must have meant so much

that we were in England, putting on a concert for them, playing Frantic for them – it gives us all

hope.

25

The fact that taiko, and in particular the piece Frantic, has connected me to all of these people and

somehow given them strength in the darkest times still blows me away. The single most important

thing about this trip is the connections made and strengthened so that we may know more,

understand more and have more compassion for the global community; starting with taiko.

WHAT ABOUT TAIKO IN THE UK?

The great thing about meeting taiko players is that they don’t mind staying up for hours into the

night talking about taiko, which is what Jonathan Kirby and I did with six of the ‘old guard’ from

Yoneyama. Being from a rural place I thought they would have a traditional view of taiko and may

even be shocked that it was being played in the UK, but I was pleasantly surprised that, after long

debate between themselves, most of which was translated to me, they agreed that it is just great

that people are interested in taiko. Much the same as Seido Kobayashi, they recognised that it is

spreading, and as it travels, it has to change, as everything does – and even in fact when it stays in

Japan, it is already so very different everywhere. The consensus was again, that it was important to

be knowledgeable and respectful of its origins and roots – that was all they would hope for, and

other than that, they were pleased that so many were taking joy from it, and using it to express

themselves musically. Asking Mr Kubo’s daughter if she ever saw a time in her life without taiko she

said certainly not – she wanted her children to play taiko one day. I asked why, thinking that it was

because it was in the family, it was an important Japanese thing to do…but no. It was just the same

reason I think children in the UK should have the chance to play taiko – because it “brings confidence

and expression”.

As I left the old guard talking and finishing their sake, I got lost in conversation with the younger

crowd who started talking about their government crisis which was incredibly interesting, but soon

we started to talk of lighter matters, and the conversation somehow ended in their fascination with

nudist beaches in Europe! We’re all the same, wherever we are – a barbeque, some taiko and time

to talk, and we all end up laughing…and part being friends.

26

‘Taiko for smaller people!’ - Nippon Taiko Foundation at a

Kindergarten School, Yoneyama Prefecture

Our time with the kindergarten school chaperoned by a Nippon taiko Foundation representative

showed me that taiko is possible with very young children – much younger than I had ever

experienced elsewhere. It inspired me to start classes for youngsters this age at The Taiko Centre –

seeing them play was an absolute joy, and very impressive. I think that because we see taiko as

physically demanding we shy away from sharing it with little ones, but here I saw that they loved it,

and the simple pieces have been stored on my camera to inspire other teachers to give it a go with

their little ones! We so often get requests but I have never heard of such little ones being taught in

the UK – another thing to try to inspire one day!

I also got a view on the Nippon Taiko Foundation taiko competitions and had a lengthy discussion

with their representative and his view on how the taiko is being judged. Personally, competition

within taiko is not for me, but I do see that if can serve to motivate groups, and having levels of

competency and achievement within this art, much like martial art, clearly has benefits. Apparently

only ten percent of taiko groups in Japan are part of the Nippon Taiko Foundation, so by no means

does every group compete, but it does seem to be a popular way of approaching taiko, and I do

know of some people in the UK who are interested in starting this concept – I’ll be interested to see

if it works here, as the martial arts network and competition circuit is vast15

– maybe that is where

the UK taiko scene is heading, but I can’t help but think that the spirit of celebration and not

competition that is the UK Taiko Festival and other events around the country will remain the

culture of UK taiko.

15

An estimated twelve million people in the UK practice a martial art and that community is networked into

around 50,000 schools.

27

‘Courage to Speak the Truth’ - Chris Holland & Yoishi Watanabe,

Amanojaku

My time with Amanojaku was immensely fulfilling from a technical and practical taiko perspective.

Untranslatable into words, their physical presence, power and understanding for me is unsurpassed.

I learned so much that I hope to be able to pass on in practical ways, and the beginnings of the piece

we worked on ‘Bujin’, will always stay with me. But it was the spirit of Chris Holland, Yoichii

Watanabe and the rest of the Amanojaku groups that will translate easily onto paper.

GOING AGAINST THE GRAIN

‘Amanojaku’ is a folkloric imp who always goes against the grain. If everyone else is travelling

clockwise, he will go anti-clockwise. We all ultimately get to the same place, but one has had an

entirely different experience. They will not do things because they have seen others do them and

their sets do not consist of recognisable pr predictable pieces with an artistic twist. The concept

behind Amanojaku underlines the need of an artist to have the courage to speak the truth, and this

edge screams out of the group; not in outrageous costume, big hair or gimmicky set-ups, but in

sheer conviction.

Having been through the beginnings of one of their pieces, and then sat in on a group rehearsal, I

know this is not taiko for the feint-hearted. Committing to the moment is not a choice but necessity,

even for the two visitors who were invited to watch. Watanabe-sensei has always wanted to be

different, dared to be different, and I suspect this need to succeed in the face of adverse opinion of

him is the root of the physical endurance that is relished by his team members.

An extremely tight-knit group where women play alongside men with equal strength and grace, they

could not have been kinder to two strangers, sharing food, smiling and talking to us. As they ran

some pieces, Watanabe-sensei wanted to hear what we thought, and wouldn’t let us get off lightly

by giving anything other than a considered and honest opinion, which he would not just listen to,

but engage in conversation about. This was a final rehearsal before their 25th

anniversary gig, and

still Watanabe was interested in what we thought – what we really thought. Having watched a piece

once, we were asked to “switch” in and play the intro with the others. Just like that, and by the end

of the three hour rehearsal saw Jonathan Kirby and I slogging away at their Odaiko willing to sweat

blood not to let UK taiko players down in a drill that I can only say is a ridiculously impressive to

watch let alone be a part of. It ended in no less than frenzy; wired, tired but utterly pumped up into

a euphoric state from the physical exertion, encouragement and shouts that had become this living

group dynamic. Watanabe knew that only by being part of the group, playing with them, and at

least trying the pieces, would we understand the group, and what he was about. Their patience and

kindness was astounding and inspiring.

I hope one day for there to be groups in the UK who are as established, confident and open as

Amanojaku – open to sharing ideas of real meaning and worth, without small talk. Hearing

Watanabe-sensei explain his compositions and ideas of composing moved me deeply – here is a man

who knows exactly what he is aiming for and won’t quit until it’s there, no excess movement or

beats – just the pure representation of a striking image or idea. Composition in the UK is becoming a

much-talked about topic, and I hope that more people (myself included) find the courage they need

28

to compose a piece just because they believe so entirely in it – no more worrying about what is right

or wrong, allowed, or if it’s taiko or not – convincing taiko composition to me, is just that –

convincing. For me, it doesn’t need anything more than the performers to believe in it. And I don’t

mean to be disrespectful to taiko artists who have studied for years before writing taiko pieces of

their own - I think it’s important to be aware of the traditions and the pioneers and roots of taiko in

order to have the confidence to go ahead and believing in yourself, but that’s it. Maybe that’s a bit

too Amanojaku for some, but I do believe it.

PERSERVERANCE

It was with Amanojaku that I heard one of my favourite taiko stories that all taiko groups should

hear. I will tell it quickly, because I think that we all know people who want to play taiko so much,

but who get told they are not good enough, and this is a story for them. A few years ago there was a

guy who knew he wanted to play taiko with Amanojaku more than anything else. He came to a

workshop and Watanabe-sensei saw him play. He was told in no uncertain terms to give up on his

dream and forget about taiko altogether – his timing was appalling and physicality a mess. So, he

went away, but every time the group played a performance, all over Japan, this guy would show up

early, carry sensei’s bag and help to unload and load the van. He kept showing up, and he kept

being told to forget it. Until the day that he turned up again, refusing to give up on his dream, and

Watanabe said that yes, he could practice, but that he would never, never get anywhere. I met that

man ; one of the best taiko players I have seen because his spirit was bigger than anyone’s I known.

Yes, his kata is a bit different, and there is an element of madness about his aura, but only in the

best way – he is a performing member of Amanojaku, and plays in practice at least, like it is still the

best thing in the world that could ever have happened to him. I don’t want anyone to think they

can’t play taiko to the level they want to. It is all about commitment and the point at which you’re

not willing to commit any more. This story shows that there is no limit to what you can do to prove

yourself – and that you can get what you want if you never give up!

29

COMMITMENT

Although it is not a topic I even considered at the outset of my fellowship I feel compelled to record

the numerous conversations I had with people in Japan relating to the horrors of the earthquake and

tsunami of 2011. From the perspective of taiko and what it means in relation to this area of interest,

the following story made me realise just how important, how much of a life-line the arts are in times

of cultural crisis. And just how committed to taiko some people are – difficulties with childcare? Car

broken down? Feeling under the weather? I non-judgementally ask all taiko players to read this

story and think about it next time you think you can’t make taiko practice!

Chris was a two-hour drive away from his house when we realised the roads were blocked due to

the earthquakes, and he wouldn’t be able to get home. Then he realised that the trains weren’t

running either, so he started to walk through the night. Five hours later, at two am he reached his

house only to get a phone call from a group member saying that if they were ever going to make it

to their gig the next day they needed to be at the office in a couple of hours time. With no sleep,

little communication, no trains and the roads still blocked, he turned out again on foot to a place

where he could meet the group member who had called so that they could travel to the office

together. They thought as they arrived that perhaps they would be the only ones there, but as they

waited, slowly everyone arrived. Having discussed whether they should really be going considering

the conditions Tokyo was under, they agreed they should get going, and drove far away through the

night. The gig was in a place where the locals really had no idea of the risks caused by the

earthquake…they sat in the green room staring at the news and as they got their curtain call, they

wondered if there would be a Tokyo to go back home to or not. But they played on – it was what

they needed to do. When they were done they got back into the van and returned to Tokyo and

their respective homes. It was months until the group members shared their individual stories of

what they went through to get to that gig that night.

THE REALITY OF TOKYO

I heard that the situation at the power plant is so serious that if there was another earthquake in

Japan right now, it wouldn’t be a case of where in Japan would be safe but rather that Japan would

be destroyed, along with some of China and parts of the West Coast USA. Chris, like the young

crowd in Yonneyama, Miyage Prefecture, showed remorse at the state of the government who

refused to tell the rest of the world how bad it was. He explained why the clean-up process at the

site of the tsunami was so slow – the government had changed leadership so many times that no-

one was in power long enough to release any funds. He also readily accepted that what people in

Western Europe are saying…that the radiation could be so bad in Tokyo and other areas of Japan

that the government knows that there is no hope, so there’s no point in telling people the real

radiation readings as there would be an un-manageable mass exodus.

He hopes of course that this isn’t the case, but his eyes are open to it. People are only just thinking

this now and if it’s true, then it’s too late and you might as well stay. It reminded me of one of the

stickers I was given in Miniamisinraku “you’re here so I’m here”…so many people have fled that they

are desperately trying to encourage people to stay and re-build. Can you blame them? I feel so

honoured that someone talked to me like that – truthfully, with trust and friendship. Writing it here

is not meant to break that trust – but I learned so much about the Japanese government, about

people in our taiko community, central to our taiko community, who are in real danger – people

30

should know how it is. When I hear of people talking of visiting Japan as taiko-tourists (the best

reason to travel, in my book) it’s about visiting groups, learning from the source, meeting people and

experiencing matsuri. I think any reason that gets people up, out and connecting with other

cultures, other people is a marvellous thing, I think we should know more about the real situation –

it’s not all cherry blossom festivals and sake and I think we need to be prepared to give where we

readily take. As one young man said, everyone loves Japan when it’s good, people want to live here,

teach here, visit the festivals, but not now, everyone’s gone home, or staying away. We need to

recognise that the place where taiko has come from, where so many experienced it first, is in huge

amounts of trouble, and we need to do as much as we can to help people there.

“Eat more octopus!” - Kiyonari Tosha, Nihon Taiko Foundation

The reputation of this man goes before him – he doesn’t like teaching women, he doesn’t like

teaching foreigners, he’s really traditional and can upset people, etc etc. In fact, having heard about

him from several sources during my research, I’d say I hadn’t exactly been in hot pursuit of spending

money learning from him. And what a shame that was. As luck would have it, Ai Matsuda (who

works for Miyamoto Unosuke and is solely responsible for large chunks of my agenda whilst in

Tokyo) had casually booked Jonathan Kirby and me into Kiyonari Tosha’s class. It was here that I got

a change to witness a teaching method of legend whilst questioning my own preconceptions about a

man I’d never met and a method I’d never encountered.

I’ve never experienced such a raised voice and animation from a teacher. I’ve never seen anyone

interfere so physically with a student whilst shouting in a language known not to be understood

before. He would leap up from his cushion in the corner to laugh at the muscles in Jonathan Kirby’s

arms, telling him miraculously now in English that he eats too much meat, has too much strength,

and that he must eat more seaweed and octopus, be more flexible. Mercifully he ignored me, but

possibly because he saw I was beyond even his help. It was a style of teaching I had never come

across – I had heard of it, (I had heard Seido Kobayashi laugh at his old methods, whilst gesturing the

strike of a bachi16

on backs of legs and admit that it’s not how he chooses to teach now), and had

dismissed it as something I just couldn’t see a way of understanding. I just can’t think that

humiliating someone, hurting them or intimidating someone can be an effective way of teaching –

moreover, why would you choose to be like that? I didn’t want to be part of a community that knew

about these methods, accepted them, but kept them quiet.

However, as I broke it down in front of me, his physical correction of kata17

does get to the point a

lot quicker than trying to explain it. He certainly says things in a way that does not allow you to

forget them, and you certainly pay attention to everything he says. He does in fact give one-to-one

feedback, which many teachers won’t. His observations about fluidity in both of us, although

unlikely to be addressed by diet alone, were valid. And amidst the ranting and shouting, there were

moments of true laughter, with the receiver of the feedback, not just at them. He was so strict, and

yet after he had given feedback to individuals, some of whom were young, they were messing

around and playing together not altogether quietly, and he didn’t say a word…there was more than

16

‘bachi’ is the word used for drum sticks used for playing taiko.

17 ‘kata’ is a trem borrowed from martial arts and refers to the physical form of taiko.

31

met the eye If you walked in to his session twice you could come out with two extremely different

opinions of him – I think you need to understand his method and be resolved not to be upset by it,

and I think he’s probably a great teacher. He’s certainly passionate, accurate, and giving of

attention! I’m not sure there’s anyone with such an extreme teaching style in the UK, and I would

hope that this is always the case - assumed or borrowed power over others can turn to be very

dangerous and out of cultural context I’m sure could be upsetting and confusing; in fact, even in-situ

it was incredibly confusing, but like anything, it can’t be taken out of context or judged on a little

exposure. I think there is a lot to be learned and gained from more “traditional” ways of teaching,

and a recent article by Eiichi Saito18

makes a beautiful point about this, from someone who cannot

be more qualified to comment. Tradition versus innovation is often talked about with regards styles,

but I think it applies to teaching/learning methods as much as anything, as these are a huge part of

any group’s taiko culture. In the UK, I think this is under-discussed, and there is a huge range of

taiko teaching methods; but I don’t think that they are discussed enough, or that perhaps there are

enough players, groups, methods or experience for them to be put into context – many taiko players

in the UK have experienced just one or two teaching methods – why question them or think about

them at all? They are just the way in which we learn to do what we love to do. But I think it would

do us all good to think about teaching methods (especially those of us who teach!) and the positives

of a more traditional “watch, learn and then play” or more strict, no-questioning authoritarian

system and also the positives of a more modern way of teaching, where the learner expects things

to be broken down to a point of internally digesting and understanding them in order to learn. Eiichi

Saito’s article is beautifully written and a great point. There is point and reason to both methods or

schools of thinking….don’t take anything as the best or only way as it is by definition, less well-

informed and rounded.

‘Women and Taiko’ - Masumi Kamata, Professor at Doshisha

University

Meeting with Masumi, a professor who had written much about taiko within a historical and

sociological context was an interesting contact to make, and talked to me about the issue of women

playing taiko drums. It’s a subject that I feel very strongly about, that has interested me greatly, and

which deserves an entire project of its own. There are so many stories that I have heard in England,

through the work of Kagemusha Taiko, of people having to move to England before they were

allowed to play taiko drums for themselves – in Japan, I have been told before; women just don’t do

that. It is a story that comes out often when talking to women about why they have found taiko and

Masumi raised a point that I think most female taiko players would empathise with.

Women feel that they through playing taiko, they can show their strength; they want to. Some

women were never allowed to play drums like men were, and typically this kind of activity is not

something that’s encouraged in female upbringings. There are some who do not allow them to play

the drums at all. Some groups will bring females on stage to do the ‘feminine’ roles of dance, and if

they play the taiko, it’s an entirely different style, perhaps wearing kimono, made-up beautifully and

take small feminine steps around the large drums. Some groups show women as equals in the parts

18

Eiichi Saito is a long-servign member of Kodo and recently contributed to the Kodo newsletter with an article

on recent apprentices and changing learning and teaching methods.

32

they play, and in appearance, but looking closely the women do not play Odaiko solos, Chichibu

Yatai Bayashi, or the flashy ‘lead’ roles. There are groups where the women are playing like the

men, and demand to be seen as equals in strength, power and stamina, and shout like men, will

train like men and go out to play strong Odaiko solos because they are as good as men. Whichever

way you look at it, there is a difference between men and women – I don’t think it’s ever a non-issue

when looking at a group, and there is no right or wrong; just observation and awareness.

This is an issue that Masumi has spent a while considering whilst talking to some of the world’s

leading female taiko players. She poses an interesting question that has arisen within this sector of

the taiko community. Whichever way you look at it, women playing taiko is about strength. Should

they keep their petite movements, kimonos and make-up, suppressing the desire to break free, be

big, loud and sweaty, and use immense inner strength to play the role they are given? Should

women demand to be treated like equals and physically push themselves as hard as they can, and

try to prove themselves to be strong like a man is strong, risking looking like they are trying to prove

themselves as something they are men? These are two extremes, but it’s something I am sure that

female taiko players and taiko groups all over the world have had to consider on some level.

Gion Matsuri

Nothing could have prepared me for this experience. Not even the guide book I had brought that

led me to plan a trip to Kyoto just to experience it. I had head that there would be lots of people,

but I was at Blackfriars Bridge for the Millennium New Years Eve and that seemed like a village street

party compared to the crowds in the streets of Kyoto. Everywhere I looked vast wide streets were

studded with towering floats, adorned with strings of lit lanterns, and engulfed in a constantly

moving mass of people. But there was no panic, no edginess, no shouting or pushing. Officials

handed out fans to distract us from the clingy heat, directed the traffic of bodies, which thankfully

did keep moving, and it all seemed to work. We hunted out the street food nearest the giant floats

so that we could listen and watch as the musicians cast music over the heads of the crowds like a

magical mist hanging over a valley. I had only read about the flutes, metal percussion, and taiko

33

winding themselves together into the particular hayashi19

kept alive by the specific community that

has built the float over the past few days – each slightly different from it’s neighbour.

As the bodies clustered together, perched on the edges of the lofty cabin part of the float, the

energy exerted to produce that music must have made the heat unbearable as it was hot enough

down on street level, but it gave spirit to the crowds down below as they almost battled out who

was going to play for the longest. As Gion Matsuri intensified over the next few days, we immersed

ourselves in the spirit that charged along the streets like blood through veins. Processions of

musicians, horses, chanting crowds and beautiful moments like turning around and finding myself

standing next to a Geiko20

serving beer to the thirsty festival participants was all part of the matsuri

experience. It seemed like I was standing in a Japanese dream made of a thriving palette of bright

colours, delicious food and music; a deep rooted culture tolerant of people like me wanting to

experience it’s delights - it was a dream that I would never have considered before discovering taiko.

I knew that taiko had very traditional roots of course, and had even told people I taught that it had

been and still was used in matsuri, but it was here that I got to experience it. Would that ultimately

affect the way I played taiko? Do I think it is important for taiko players to experience this, or to

know about it? I can’t say anything other than it has deepened my understanding of taiko, and my

connection with it personally, and I am sure that will come out in my confidence in teaching, my

performance and technique, once I had studied some of these traditional rhythms with Kenny Endo

in Hawaii which I understood because I had experienced them here. More than that I can’t speak for

others, but it is an experience that will stay with me and fuel my passion for taiko.

19

‘hayashi’ is used to mean the group of musicians, or the music itself, here the music played from the tops of

the floats within the matsuri.

20 A ‘Geiko’ is the word for Geisha in Kyoto, female entertainers highly skilled in the art of dance and classical

music.

34

‘Why would people play taiko without a Japanese community?’

Yoshitaka Terada, National Museum of Ethnology

When Jonathan Kirby and I met Yoshitaka Terada in the truly wonderful Museum of Ethnology, we

sat together and over lunch explored the possible irony that the absence of cultural identity within

UK taiko actually reveals the essence of why people play taiko globally, despite its seemingly cultural

identity.

Essentially we discussed why people play taiko – one of my favourite conversations. It started

because Yoshitaka Terada, having studied and written papers about diverse taiko groups in Japan

and North America, had always assumed that there was an established Japanese community that

started taiko wherever it occurred in the world. However, taiko in the UK is distinctly devoid of

people with Japanese ancestors. Although many taiko groups in the UK owe their existence to

someone who had spent time in Japan learning taiko and bringing it back to the UK to share it with

others, we talked about the “taiko-ness” of taiko being as important as any “Japanese-ness” of taiko

for people who played it.

I was fascinated by Yoshitaka Terada’s papers and subsequent conversations with me about three of

his published works: “Angry Drummers and Buraku Identity: The Ikari Taiko Group in Osaka, Japan”,

“Rooted as Banyan Trees: Eisa and the Okinawan Diaspora in Japan”, and “Shifting Identities in

Taiko”. We talked about the group Ikari Taiko who, from the audience’s viewpoint may not look

different to other taiko groups, but are of specific interest to him in their reason for existing as a

group. That Ikari means ‘anger’ or ‘rage’ points to their purpose: “to eradicate the persistent

discrimination against Buraku communities, and to educate people on human rights through

drumming”. The drummers now have not themselves experienced the harsh Japanese policies that

enhanced their general treatment as hinin or a “non-human” people, but their playing gives strength

to their inherited image and to the elders that witnessed the first group stand up for themselves.

Their story is as compelling as the Okinawan Eisa groups that used taiko as a way to unite and

overcome their social discrimination, and the stories of Japanese Americans using taiko as a way of

finding a voice and a positive expression of identity.

Although collectively expressing positive cultural identity is the reason that drew many people to

taiko in the first place, and the reason that many groups came together, it is also taiko’s ability to

explore and express identity on a personal level that makes such a strong connection with people,

no matter their cultural background or perceived identity issues.

There are so many reasons that people come to play taiko together. It is my perception that I hear

too often that you have to distinguish between groups who have a cultural reason to play taiko and

groups who don’t. To me, it is unhelpful. We all have a reason to play taiko, it has spoken to us all –

some in gentle whispers and others in a screaming voice inside. Some people’s reasons to play taiko

are to strengthen their sense of identity where their cultural background is in the minority, or is

suffering social discrimination. Some people form or join groups where this cultural or social

message unities them.

35

Some people play taiko because it is helping them to get over the loss of a husband, an eating

disorder, a lack of identity, helping them to discover their feminine strength, their musical or

creative outlet, or just because it allows them to get out, meet people and have fun! Some people

form or join groups where the group’s identity, or reason to play is not because of a social or cultural

agenda, but because they want people to get up and do something empowering, inspiring and fun!

These reasons are not specific to any country. This wide range of group identities and purposes

exists around the world. Some people ask whether the taiko that occurs in the UK, without any

strong Japanese identity, is actually recognised as taiko? When talking about taiko in the UK, it

exists outside an environment that would foster the need for it to exist as a collective expression of

cultural identity. This does not mean that it is not and cannot be the reason for single people or

groups to play taiko in the UK, and it does not mean that because it is not the reason that people

play taiko in the UK is somehow invalid. This is of course a much bigger question. My conversation

with Jonathan Kirby and Yoshitaka Terada has widened my perspective on taiko existing in the UK,

and has enriched my view of the global taiko tapestry in which we are all woven somehow.

Quality of the Taiko - Yoshihiko Miyamoto, Miyamoto Unosuke Ltd

Meeting Yoshihiko Miyamoto in a Stanford University dorm party at the North American Taiko

Conference has been a life-changing moment. He had taken the time to listen to what was

happening on the UK taiko scene, to my taiko dreams and aspirations, and had taken me seriously,

encouraging me to follow them. So, meeting with him in Tokyo was a significant moment for me,

and being looked after by him so well a privilege.

Having studied at Warwick University, Yoshihiko Miyamoto had a personal connection with England,

and his interest in the taiko happening there was genuine. We talked about the future of taiko

drumming in Japan, American, UK and the current taiko trends that might affect the future of taiko

in the long term. One of these is the quality of the taiko being used. We discussed the need for

cheap instruments to be available and the opportunity this opened for groups to start and for the art

form to gain momentum and spread. We agreed also that if the quality of taiko instrument was

sacrificed, the style of playing would eventually change to reflect that. If not enough people ever

experienced the true sound of a good taiko, entire styles that chased the ‘pure sound’ would

eventually disappear, and the use of taiko as an instrument would hand over to the music being

secondary to the movement and other great elements of taiko. Whilst I valued the time thinking

about this, it is something that worries Mr Miyamoto, and the reason that he is passionate about

36

ensuring quality instruments follow the trend of taiko across the globe, however difficult that may

be.

That our last night in Japan was spent unexpectedly with Yoshihiko Miyamoto was perfect. It was he

who had expressed passionately that I should experience Japanese matsuri and encouraged me to

explore so may different groups and styles in my short time here. Wading through the hot crowds at

Gion Matsuri to stand below the tower filled with musicians and absorbing the atmosphere that

inhabited the streets allowed me to experience the heart of taiko and get a feel for a brief moment

its within the Japanese community. This wasn’t about one style, it was about taiko as a whole, and

that is what Mr Miyamoto wanted me to experience.

It is this wider perspective that is going to inform and nurture the UK taiko community. We spoke

about the difficulties that arise between taiko groups. In Japan we heard of many groups that

started as a splinter from another just as much as I heard about it in North America at San Jose Taiko

and North American Taiko Conference. Issues arise all over the taiko world, and thank goodness

there is so much passion and diversity, otherwise we would all be playing the same songs in the

same style for the same group – we would all be preservation societies rather than creative

innovators of a constantly evolving art form (is there an art form that isn’t constantly evolving?).

However, it is often not considered polite to talk about these issues, especially to those who are

ignorant of them. For me, until I visited San Jose Taiko’s Taiko Weekend Intensive (or you might say,

until I took my first independent step into the taiko community) I had no idea that someone might

think I had no right to play taiko, that there might be someone who considers the taiko I play to be

inferior to another. Why would group leaders spend time during the two hours a week you all meet,

talking about the problems of other taiko groups which can essentially be fuelling the fire of

discrimination? It’s a tough one to call, because without knowing about these issues existing, I

wouldn’t have questioned or considered it as much and I believe my understanding and passion for

it would be lessened. The fact that people rarely talk about these matters in the UK is a bit like the

government waiting until a certain amount of accidents occur in one place before investing money in

a traffic safety system there. If we are aware of what can happen, discuss it and be part of the

solution to ensure the problem doesn’t get worse, surely that’s a good thing, if a perhaps idealistic.

Now that the UK Taiko Scene Facebook network has been opened with currently more than two

hundred active members, people don’t have to leave the armchair to be aware of these things.

But there is danger within a virtual existence, and it can never replace meeting people face to face

and personally experiencing things. It is easier than ever to pre-judge people. Social media has set

the trap of thinking we know a person just because of their online presence. Unfortunately people

can wear disguises online and hide behind them whilst throwing dispassionate comments that cause

confusion and disproportionate views of the taiko community. I have had the misfortune of knowing

of one such instance, and it is a great shame but inevitable in this technologically advanced world.

37

Social media may be a powerful tool but it will never replace a real relationship. Kagemusha Taiko’s

relationship with Miyamoto Unosuke has no doubt been strengthened by our visit. I think that some

people have to explore the boundaries in order for the taiko community to grow, but certainly, not

everyone will be able to do so. Yoshihiko Miyamoto is pleased that people are still travelling out to

Japan to discover and to talk – as he puts hundreds of years of experience to great use in crafting

incredibly beautiful instruments that deserve to be played and celebrated, he is very passionate

about taiko and how it travels across the world.

38

Shastayama Taiko Concert, Mount Shasta, California

Mount Shasta is a small town and not an obvious place for a buzzing taiko community, but sure

enough, there is one here – once a year the whole town turns out to welcome and appreciate

visiting taiko players from around the country in an outdoor show at the foot of the mountain as the

sun sets in the clear Californian sky.

As I sat waiting for it to start I came to the realisation that most of the performers had strong links

back to Russell Baba and Jeannie Mercer, the organisers and long-time residents of this mountain

town. During the evening, Chris Bergstrom and Masato Baba, Shasta Taiko, Jeannie Mercer &

Russell Baba, Michelle Fuji & Toru Watanabe, PJ & Roy Hirabayashi and San Jose Taiko came

together in different combinations, costumes & guises to present magical combinations of Jazz,

dance, story-telling and taiko. The audience got to their feet for a Bon Odori dance21

, the traditional

gestures of welcoming everyone, fishing and greeting the sun were mixed in with dance moves to

show the use of smart phones, texting and ‘paying the man’. San Jose Taiko’s two sets tangibly

ramped up the audience’s excitement, PJ & Roy Hirabayashi joined to bring some stunning

moments, the Charter for Compassion was spoken beautifully to call everyone’s attention to making

a more peaceful world, and they didn’t leave without asking everyone in the audience to join in with

21

Obon, Bon, Bon Odori, or Obon Dance Festivals all relate to the same event – Buddhist Temples honouring

the spirits of our ancestors.

39

PJ Hirabayashi’s popular taiko piece ‘Ei Ja Nai Ka?’.22

The finale was a logistical feat, as all the

performers joined together on stage, solos being passed around as it ceased to be different taiko

groups and morphed to become a mass of musicians and dancers, sharing their incredible energy

with the crowd at their feet, at the foot of this vast mountain. It was for me a perfect mixture of

artistic inspiration, accessibility, and inclusiveness with a distinct lack of pretention.

And to top it all off, I finally met the man who made Kagemusha Taiko’s distinctive performance

drums – how could he forget us? I think Mark Miyoshi still finds it funny that Jonathan had asked

him to make green taiko, it was so nice to put a smiling face to the name.

I look at this show and think of the UK Taiko Festival – there have been years when UK groups have

shared the stage like this format for the evening show, and I look forward to being around when that

happens again. There were no headliners, no pretence – just a great display of taiko performances

to a community that came together and sat in the fairly chilly night air to celebrate – and a true

celebration it was, ending in a place to eat, drink and talk. I think of the UK Taiko Festival and am

strangely proud that in such a relatively short life, the taiko community has got it together to want to

drive for a long time, just like here and celebrate taiko like this!

“What’s best for the kids?” - Tony Jones, Zenshin Daiko, Maui

I was lucky enough to spend a couple of evenings with Tony from Zenshin Daiko as two of his

phenomenal youth groups had their weekly practice. Quite apart from the phenomenal standard of

taiko playing amongst these young people, what amazed me was how Tony has decided to run the

groups.

His philosophy on why he teaches, or shares taiko with young people is fascinating and clearly

successful. Tony never meant to start running a taiko group – he was pretty much pressured into it

by a load of parents, and so he did, and still does, organise practice, drums, equipment and gigs

(more than once a week throughout the year) for the young people around Wailuku, Maui, Hawaii.

22

‘Ei Ja Nai Ka?’ means “Isn’t it good?” and is a piece written by PJ Hirabayashi that has become very popular

in North America, and involves a Bon Odori-style dance.

40

He says that he is no great taiko player. He teaches the younger class – it couldn’t be further away

from the strict and traditional ways of running a group as the kids all call him Uncle Tony, and he’s

‘one of them’ rather than a teacher - but he guides them through drills and pieces, and they get a lot

achieved while having great fun.

The older class were working with meticulous tenacity and some heartfelt attitude. The organisation

is unusual in that it is group-led. It does have an artistic director, someone to run the session,

someone to do all their paperwork, line-up who plays where – and it is all done by the group

members as a collective with a friendly and respectful attitude. Tony says he’s really there to unlock

the door and to break up arguments if they get out of control!

He said some truly inspirational things…that he loved it when he sees them get something wrong

because to see them recover from it, which they always do, and the things they learn from that, is

what it’s all about. He brings taiko players in who can teach the kids the things they want to learn.

He says he doesn’t care who they are or what they can play technically or otherwise – if they’re no

good with the kids, they are not getting the job. Yuta Kato23

was there in this role as I visited, and

clearly, they devoured every moment of the opportunity, thriving on it and respecting every minute

of his time. Tony’s relaxed way of running the group makes it the most inspirational youth group

I’ve met in my taiko time. He told me that it wasn’t hard to make group decisions – he just ask one

question: “what’s best for the kids?” Tony said that he once refused to talk on a panel about how he

prepares his young people for leaving the group and becoming great taiko players after they leave.

He explained that despite their fantastic potential, he doesn’t teach them to be great taiko players –

it’s not his aim. Rather, his aim is to teach them to be great people. And with that, he handed me a

pineapple and I jumped out of his truck outside my hostel. Just like that.

“Taiko needs to be kept cool” - Yuta Kato

Yuta Kato and his business partner Kris Bergstrom thinks that teaching taiko should be like a dance

class. It should be about preparing taiko players to then go on and join groups or be professionals.

Yuta told me that if the art form is going to survive and for there to be work out there for taiko

professionals, it needs to be kept current. History isn’t going to make it popular. He knows the

history, and can answer questions, but it won’t be part of their training. Taiko needs to be kept cool

and interesting for young people for it to thrive. There is a lot to be said for setting out with a

mission like that. As is quite clear to me now, talking about taiko can raise a lot of issues, and

ultimately take up a lot of time. A taiko group does need to collectively think about relevant issues

and cannot escape them, but what sounded to me like an academy is a very clear way of setting up.

It is all about technique, leaving all else to whichever taiko group they then go on to join.

23

Yuta Kato is a very experienced taiko player who travels the world teaching and performing with different

taiko groups.

41

“A dance to merge generations” - Kahului Jodo Mission’s Obon

Festival with Kaye & Ronald Fukumoto, Maui Taiko

Obon, Bon, Bon Odori, or Obon Dance Festivals all relate to the same event – Buddhist Temples

honouring the spirits of our ancestors. In Japan these occasions look very different to those in

Northern America, where the Obon season goes on for as long as nine weeks in the summer months.

Families of all cultures join together for food, fun, music and dance, dressing in Yukata24

and

celebrating. Lanterns are hung from the yagura25

as the Bon-Odori, dances, circulate around. Most

of the dances have roots in folk traditions and agriculture, but new ones are invented to keep

everyone engaged – Pokémon Odori was a popular dance in Hawaii when I visited and everyone

joined in the fun.

People coming together, with a real reason to do so, all together remembering, celebrating, keeping

family and connections alive. The dances are there to be learned and enjoyed by all, whether you

know them or not. It’s not long until someone asks you to join in, and as long as you travel in the

right direction and don’t tread on anyone, it seems that everyone’s ok with you just doing your best,

whatever that is. The actual movements were beautiful, meaningful, and danced by parents holding

babies in their arms and little ones holding each other’s hands as well as Grandmothers dressed up

in Kimonos, looking as elegant as ever and men dancing just as elegantly. A dance that connects the

generations and genders like this (with food and good cheer of course) can be a very powerful

experience. At Obon dances, every movement is so delicate and precise, but full of joy and

celebration rather than the energy of a staged performance. This is what I want to ‘take away’ from

this and share with others – it’s not necessarily the fact that I think everyone should dance together,

but that we should enjoy the coming together and playing more than worrying about it being ‘right’.

‘Breaking Atoms - Broken Lives’ - University of Hawaii

24

‘Yukata’ is a light kimono worn in the Summer months

25 Yagura is the central tower where musicians play

42

“Breaking Atoms, Broken Lives” was an event at the University of Hawaii remembering Nagasaki,

Hiroshima & Fukushima. The evening was presented and represented by Kay Fukumoto of Maui

Taiko, with koto26

, taiko and dance performances as well as sobering presentations and talks of the

recent and past disasters in Japan that needed t o be remembered so that we can learn from them. I

had an instant connection to Kaye Fukumoto as only a few weeks ago I had been standing at the very

place of the disaster. She had taken some members of her group, Maui Taiko to Japan with a tour of

‘Fukushima Ondo’, an Obon dance popular throughout Hawaii, to spread strength and joy to the

communities who had been completely removed from their worlds in the last eighteen months. Her

message, like the Charter for Compassion is translatable to any culture – take time to learn what has

gone before you, ask questions and listen.

‘The ability to be different’ - Aeia Temple Obon Festival Soto

Mission - Someii Taiko, Oahu, Hawaii

Shuji Kameda runs several taiko groups from his temple just outside of Honolulu. He is passionate

about teaching not only the drumming parts of taiko, but the whole taiko culture, encouraging

youngsters to teach as well as play. He only teaches the performance group as he says it’s not good

for everyone just to hear one person’s voice all the time: it’s a longer way of doing things, but he’s

there to encourage leadership and thinks it’s the best way. He likes the community around his taiko

experience here as there are three different taiko groups that regularly help each other out with

equipment and players. There’s little ego in that group of players – it’s about the taiko.

Having trained with Seiichi Tenaka of San Francisco Taiko Dojo, and Kiyonari Tosha, I was interested

in hearing Shuji Kameda’s thoughts on that teaching style, when I could see that his was so very

different. Without going into particulars, I got an extraordinary insight into these teaching methods

from another viewpoint. He believed that some of his experiences were pretty horrendous, but still

talks of his time at San Francisco Taiko Dojo and Nihon Taiko Foundation with a sense of privilege

and compassion. He says that it’s made him appreciate the ability to be different.

26

Japanese stringed instrument

43

“All in a day’s work” - Faye Kumagata & Ikuko Kamitani of Hawaii

Matsuri Taiko, Honolulu, Hawaii

Hawaii Matsuri Taiko has been sharing taiko and Obon dancing with the public at a festival in

Honolulu every Friday and Saturday for three weeks. I’m not sure how they do it, with so much

energy going into every minute and even finding time for a couple of quick workshops for the

audience to have a go at playing themselves. For me, this type of performance is what I love so

much about taiko: giving people a really accessible way of joining in, dancing to the sound of the

drums and connecting with people around them. It is Faye Kumagata’s thinking that the point of

coming together to play taiko is to communication and connection: to others, to audience, and

within ourselves. ‘Fukushima Ondo’, ‘Ei Ja Nai Ka?’, all Obon Dances, Okinawan dance and music,

collaborations with other dancers and musicians – it’s all communication and connection.

Faye Kumagata has done so much for taiko in Hawaii – she has helped to set up many groups around

the state, created the first collaboration with Hula dancers and is not afraid to make a statement

that might get attention. She’s constantly busy organising group gigs, practices, equipment and

shopping for food for the temple’s Obon, but she takes taiko in her stride – it’s just another part of

temple life.

Sotto Mission Obon Festival, Honolulu – Grant Murata, Hawaii Eisa

Grant Murata, or ‘Sannda Sensei’ is a senshin27

player with Hawaii Eisa, an Okinawan group. He also

runs just a senshin group and is certified to teach dancing, singing, and drumming.

Having met Yoshitaka Terada in Osaka and learned about Okinawan taiko, I was so excited to see

Grant Murata playing senshin with his group Hawaii Eisa. I was completely enthralled by the music

and dance that Shuji Komegata showed me up to the top of the tower to watch the musicians at

work. As I watched the dancers and drummers in their stripy legged costumes circle beneath us and

the musicians at the top of the tower having so much fun, I thought that despite being on the other

side of the world, it wasn’t so different to a scene you might see in an English village. But it was

Grant Murata who, on finding out I was English, animatedly talked of the parallel with English folk

music and Morris dancing - he was a big fan of Celtic music, and while I was a little surprised to be

having this conversation in Hawaii with an Okinawan musician, he made me quite sure of the

commonalities between cultures. This wasn’t being performed as ‘high art’ – in fact, out of context

it changes completely, much like seeing folk and Morris on stage is a completely different experience

to being in a pub and it happening around you. Here it was the community who taught it, played it,

listened to it, danced to it and loved it that made it what it was. Here the taiko really was the

heartbeat of the gathering as it moved with the people around the tower in the night sky, lanterns

blowing in the wind and children falling asleep - every time I see taiko in a new setting it adds a new

layer to what I think and feel about it.

27

Senshin is a Japanese three-stringed folk instrument

44

Taiko Centre of the Pacific, Kenny Endo, Honolulu, Hawaii

My time with Kenny Endo was split into distinct halves: I spent one week having one-to-one sessions

with him and another taking part in his shime daiko Summer Intensive. Acutely aware that I didn’t

really have the necessary experience to take advantage of his incredible skill, I was apprehensive

about how these one-to-one sessions would go, but Kenny Endo is first and foremost an incredibly

kind man who will teach anyone who is interested enough to go and learn from him. He was patient

and encouraging, and made me work hard.

PERSONAL PRACTICE

If I took one thing away from my time with Kenny Endo, it’s that you have to practice every day. It’s

something that Chris Holland had said when we spent time with him and Amanojaku, who had

studied with Kenny Endo; that he wasn’t any better than his piers when he started taiko – he just

never quit. Kenny Endo said the same: you’re only going to get better if you practice every day. And

they weren’t empty words – he spent that week showing me drills to use in personal practice,

bridging the gap for someone who had never really known how to practice taiko on my own. I think

because of the instrument’s size and volume, its cost, and because we see it as a group activity, we

don’t often see it as something you can practice alone. I will always be grateful to him for this

lesson, and for the knowledge to put it into practice.

ODAIKO

Much of my one-on-one time with Kenny was spent playing the Odaiko and learning a duet with

solos. Playing the Odaiko is something I had little experience of, and soloing is something I also had

little good experience of. So, Kenny Endo saying that he’ll just play a ji-uchi and I would solo over

the top to see where I was, terrified me. But I got on with it, and we made progress throughout the

week. One of the gems that is so obvious but maybe often overlooked was this: “People often start

out playing taiko with an unstable, loose centre and really solid arms. Of course the goal is to have a

really sold foundation and maximum fluidity in your arms.” It’s a great thing to remember when

you’re facing that huge drum head – drill into the ground and connect with it to give yourself the

grounding so you can truly play it with the flexibility and breadth of movement that it needs.

45

THE GOOD STUFF

As most people who know of Kenny Endo know, he spent ten years in Japan studying taiko. He is

perhaps the most classically trained taiko player outside of Japan, but that does not mean he thinks

that’s the only way to learn, or play. Kenny is also one of the most excitingly innovative taiko artists,

and promotes breaking those traditions as much as learning them. Breaking traditions makes it

sound as if there are rules to be broken, and because it often comes over as a very strict way of

teaching, people see it as just that. But he explains traditional or classical taiko as something you

can learn, and then you have more tools, techniques and skills to use as you break away from

tradition. From the teaching methods, learning methods, rhythm patterns, techniques and names of

the rhythms – learning Oedo Bayashi28

style with Kenny Endo was tough, and made me question

what on earth I was putting myself through, but after a week I knew that this was a highly

concentrated taiko injection! As he says, “it survived for so long because it’s the good stuff!”

LANGUAGE AND TRADITION

Going to Japan to learn Oedo Bayashi, or any classical Japanese music, the teaching methods will

usually be very old fashioned. You are allowed to write nothing down in the lesson, there is certainly

no videoing, or asking for things to be broken down. Kenny Endo taught whole lessons using

kuchishoga29

language and repetition as he wanted us to understand the process, and knows the

significance of the language’s relation to the internalisation and expression of the music. Even the

names of the sections we were learning forced you to learn some Japanese – it spiked my interest in

the language as I scrabbled at getting a hold of any logical connections that would allow me to

understand it better. Why was Yatai Gashira the first one? Because kashira, or gashira, means

‘head’ or ‘front’ – and then it clicks into place – Mizuho Zako familiarly called Seido Kobayashi

‘Kashira’. It started to make sense. However, Kenny Endo knows that we are in the modern world,

and would in the breaks invite us to go and ask him for clarification and allowed us to video whole

sections so that we could review them overnight. He’s not against this, but was careful to gently add

stories of his learning in Japan, not to make us grateful or think him superior, but because you can

see that he really sees the benefit of learning this way.

After a week of being immersed in Oedo Bayashi I am now passionate about passing at least a sliver

of this on in the UK. I see great benefit in writing things down, in explaining things in any way

possible if it helps that person to grasp the pattern or technique. I also think that if you want to take

your taiko playing to another level, you should experience learning like this, so that you can

understand the point of it and never write it off as traditional and therefore archaic, stuck in the

past, rigid, authoritarian, power-trippy and unhelpful to the student. I greatly struggled with the

method but still take opportunities to practice it, and hope that others also get to have the

experience. Using this language I have become very aware of its importance when playing and its

effectiveness in teaching timing, awareness and true communication between brain and hands,

language and music. It is not the quickest way of learning a pattern, but I think this is where I have

got the most learning out of learning one pattern, and once learned, it is never forgotten.

28

Tokyo festival music

29 ‘Kuchishoga’ is the spoken language of learning taiko rhythms

46

KABUKI SOUNDSCAPES

One of the many reasons I wanted to study with Kenny Endo was because of his training in Kabuki

music, and he was good enough not only to demonstrate some of the sounds and techniques, but to

teach them to me. For me, it’s another way of looking at taiko, at the sounds you’re making and the

reasons behind them. There is so much narrative in kabuki that all the sounds have a picture behind

them: you are playing a soundscape on an instrument that I had previously used to ‘perform a taiko

piece’. I loved the intensity of getting into this one sound. How would you play the sound of snow

falling? How is this different to a snowstorm? What would the wind sound like if it were blowing

shutters around outside a house? Can you make the sound of waves rolling in towards a beach? At

times taiko has been about learning an entire piece, a new style or technique, and although this was

all of the above, you almost stopped time to get into this one sound…again, thinking about the

possibilities this opened up for composition, narrative and new techniques was incredibly valuable. I

loved the little breaks we took in learning a big Odaiko duet with solos to think about the sound of

someone walking through freshly fallen snow.

PERSONAL JOURNEY

One of my favourite memories is talking to Kenny Endo one day whilst we were setting up for our

session, and I was really distracted. Things were going through my head about the bigger picture;

‘what was I doing in Hawaii learning about these Japanese drums and what was I going to do with

this in my life?’ And so I ended up explaining my state of mind to him. He just smiled with a little

laugh and said: “Oh, I think of giving up taiko once a day, and then I think ‘What else would I do?’

Then I think it’s time I go and do some taiko practice.” So we did.

Chichibu Yatai Bayashi Summer Intensive - Riley Lee, Taikoz

Riley Lee’s Chichibu Yatai Bayashi class was incredibly physical, and my enjoyment of it was real, and

somewhat owed to the fact I could see a clock and knew that my body would be allowed to rest

soon enough. More than on the rhythm and style of this piece, Riley was a great teacher of taiko,

and in the breaks we were given to rest our arms and abs, he would tell stories that were steeped in

experience and passion for taiko. Some of these concepts would keep me thinking for a while, and

I’ll share them as they were, without interpretation or justification.

ABSOLUTE TIMING

There is such a thing as absolute timing. It is not mathematical, it cannot be timed. It is felt, it is the

purest, truest moment for the sound to be played and everyone can feel it when it is right. At the

same time, absolute timing is infinite, and therefore unlimited, so there are infinite ways of doing

something and it may change every time.

THE MEANING OF MA

Ma is internal and external. It is within everything: in physical space, sound space, and the

unclassifiable of emotion and feeling. It needs to be present when playing music otherwise it sounds

like a machine. Humans are not perfect. In fact they are incapable of perfection. We strive for it,

47

but never get it, and that is how it is meant to be, so know it, be used to it. Get so used to things

going wrong that you don’t notice it anymore, so used to it that no-one notices it, and so used to it

that in fact they are not wrong anymore, they are just part of the music.

WORST COMMENTS FOR BEST STUDENTS

You don’t go to your teacher to get praise. They don’t want to hear something that you already do.

They want to hear you do something that you don’t do well yet so that they can help you to

improve. If you don’t want criticism, you’re missing the point of having lessons. Just as if you’re

teaching and constantly asking your students for feedback, for re-assurance, then you’re missing the

point of being a teacher. Criticism is the reason you are there; it is about pointing out the things you

don’t know you are doing wrong. Riley Lee says that in Japan at least, good teachers leave their

worst comments for their best students.

THE STAGE IS YOUR HOME

When you perform, the stage should be like your temple, your home. It is where you belong. You

play for the audience, you are there for them. But you are playing for yourself too, and only for you.

This is your moment, what it has been all for. Respect it and be wholly there. When you are onstage

and need to be “off”, be still; so still that you disappear. And when it’s your time, it’s like the lights

are on, turned on from the very skies, just for you.

“Riley Lee was the first professional taiko player outside of Japan. He opened the door for so many

of us.” Kenny Endo

Joan Froelich & Peter Brown, Manhattan Taiko

I met these people as they were taking part in Kenny Endo’s Summer Taiko Intensive, and we

became great friends. On the bus on the way to Kenny Endo’s class at the start of the week, I had a

surreal moment when listening to the work they do with taiko on the East Coast. Peter was there,

talking about this great book and this wonderful piece he had used to much in New York City schools

– he hadn’t realised at that point that I worked with Kagemusha Taiko, so didn’t realise the smiles he

would get when he told me the book was the one written by Jonathan Kirby and the piece

‘Shimabayashi’30

, which I had used in countless schools with him back in England. The thought of

kids playing ‘Shimabayashi’ in New York was funny and brilliant on that Honolulu city bus.

30

‘Shimabayashi’ is the name of an open-source beginner taiko piece written by Jonathan Kirby.

48

San Jose Taiko, San Jose, California

I arrived here a few days ago from Hawaii, and immediately met up with San Jose Taiko founders, PJ

& Roy Hirabayashi. These two people have given so much to people’s lives that I cannot hope to

summarise their significance in the taiko world in a sentence, but I can say that it has been nothing

but an honour to spend so much time with them and to spend most waking hours discussing or

doing something taiko-related. And I think this really hits the nail on the head for me as to why I see

that taiko can be such an instrumental ‘thing’ within a community – it doesn’t start and stop with

playing the drums. For me, San Jose Taiko is so special because of two equally important things:

what they do and the way it is done.

REHEARSAL

I have watched San Jose Taiko rehearse for their fall show, ‘Rhythm Spirit 2012: Taiko & Technology’.

Most of my time is spent in awe of the end product, which would take a project in itself to describe

the synchronicity and energy that projects out of the studio, but it is also the way they run

rehearsals that inspires me. The group started out in the 1970’s as a collective and even today it’s

run with the assumption that everyone has something to offer, with different people running

sections/overseeing/giving feedback/writing/performing the songs, and it all works like a highly

functioning family unit. It’s an art in itself, and so much more inspiring for me than seeing one

person mastermind something and produce it artistically single-handedly, which is probably more

impressive, much harder work and higher-risk.

CULTURE

Food is one of the many reasons that San Jose Taiko is well known. Anyone who has attended a

Taiko Weekend Intensive or other course will know this. Meg Susuki is a fantastic chef and provides

wonderful meals for the hard-worked taiko players that have become legendary. Some evenings will

consist of a ‘pot luck’ where all the performing members will bring something to share with

everyone and you realise that San Jose Taiko doesn’t just value the importance of great food, they

can all cook beautifully – is that part of the audition process, I wonder? And then I realise that it

goes beyond this as I was invited to lunch in the San Jose Taiko office where staff members take it in

turn to cook/provide lunch for the work team each day. This not only reduces the time everyone

spends preparing lunch each day for themselves, makes sure no-one forgets lunch and therefore

suffers low-energy throughout the afternoon, (and makes people learn how to make GREAT food!),

49

it ensures that everyone has time to down tools and talk about things and occasionally say hello to

visiting taiko people. Some ‘big’ companies that inspire me – Patagonia, Innocent, Howies – all have

similar work/social time ethics and are all incredibly successful companies with great reputations; it

can’t be coincidence.

COMMUNITY

I have hung out in Japan Town, where San Jose Taiko’s heart has always been – as you walk around

there are placards telling the story of the town’s history, and right there is an early picture of the

group, as from the very beginning they have been focused on positive social action in the

community, and have become as much a part of the town as the bricks that built it. I’ve attended a

party for a local artists’ mural project (where the hosts just happen to be a family who are taking

taiko sessions with PJ Hirabayashi) and where everyone knows PJ & Roy Hirabayashi, and of course

one of the local mural artists is a San Jose Taiko performing and staff member.

I also attended a San Jose Taiko ‘workday’; one of six such annual occasions where all of San Jose

Taiko get together to work on studio and drum maintenance. I spent a good two hours clearing

Bougainvillea from the street, one of a team of twelve who worked hard in the sun until the job was

done, and then moved onto polishing chappa31

and straightening taiko tacks for recycling in an

delightfully industrious atmosphere, and of course, there was more great food. I wasn’t the only

visitor who was happy to get my hands dirty and get involved – some of the Stanford Taiko (last seen

on Mount Shasta and previously starring in the UK Taiko Festival in June) were around and wanted

to help – help with vacuuming, cleaning windows, re-skinning taiko, washing water filters, sewing

costumes – when was the last time one of your friends came over to help with your housework?

Everyone there is committed to the group and feels a part of this community and people want to

help – it never felt like work; just spending time doing a great thing with friends.

I’ve watched a public workshops, rehearsals, taken taiko classes, dance sessions, talked about taiko

when eating, walking, driving, shopping, cleared plants from the sidewalk and made costumes -

everything that I find myself doing here is taiko. When I think or say that the art of taiko is about

community, it doesn’t have to mean (as is so often interpreted) that it is not high-end art; it means

31

Chappa are cymbal-like metal percussion popularly used in conjunction with taiko.

50

that the art and the community have a fulfilling relationship. There is the local community, the

taiko community, the group community, the family communities…nothing is separated or excluded

but everything is respected. The ‘work’ of a taiko company or group is very complex and can be

magnificent when done with such an open heart. And they’re not alone. Taiko groups everywhere

have connections that go way past pitching up at practice and learning a song, and it’s this very fact

that makes it such a special thing. Even if you take taiko as a purely technical instrument or art to

learn, you can’t apply normal parameters to it. I have heard people in the UK get cross with all of

this superfluous talk, and want taiko to be explained by just one thing: Japanese drums and a

performance art. I can see their point, and know that too much talk about other things can loose

sight of the practicalities that need to be taken care of. However, if no-one spent time considering

the other elements of taiko, it would be missing out on so much of what people love about it, what

makes it so special when you see it on stage. If it were just another type of instrument played

together, would Kodo live on an island and dedicate their entire lives to it? Why don’t they live

“normal” lives like members of the philharmonic orchestras of the world?

It’s such a small network of people who will be able to help you replace a head of a taiko for the first

time. Few people understand how to play drum/van Tetris32

like a taiko-player. As someone

recently remarked on Facebook, how many rock gigs do you play when after the show, audience

members are outside with great food for you, and are ready to help you out with your gear?

It’s a personal thing, and thankfully there are enough different types of taiko groups around to suit

everyone’s tastes and needs. But when people say everything else is just talk, that it’s just an

instrument, I feel sad that they might have missed out on so much more.

PJ & Roy Hirabayashi, Judy Kajiwara & Pear Urushima

My time in California was a significant amount of time in my whole travels. Having followed taiko’s

journey from Japan to Hawaii to California, it was here I took time to tie these threads together. I

spent days with PJ and Roy talking about taiko, hours in the studio with PJ learning Odaiko

technique, multiple drum movement and how to teach a song, I stayed with Pear and indulged in

deep conversation about personal taiko journeys, and spent two wonderful days with Judy, opening

my mind and body to the transformative art of butoh33

dance. Having started planning this trip with

PJ, it felt only right that I end it here, making sense of whether I reached the goals I wanted to, and

how to interpret them best to be of use to a UK audience. So much of it is practical and technical

skill and confidence that will be in everything taiko that I now do, with so much to look back into for

more layers of information and technique. However, the real value of my time with PJ & Roy

Hirabayashi, Pear Urushima and Judy Kajiwara was in understanding my place in all of this, finding a

language to make it my own, and my confidence to step into my responsibility to share the things I

have been lucky enough to know.

32

Nintendo game popular in the nineties!

33 Butoh is a style of dance originated in post WWII Japan.

51

WARM-UPS

Taiko is a physical activity, and I have personally sustained injuries in the past by not warming-up

and cooling down properly. Physically warming up before a taiko session differs amongst taiko

groups, and San Jose Taiko is one of the groups I have visited where this is an integral part of

practicing and playing taiko. . Chris Holland from Amanojaku is the one other person I have met

who places this amount of importance on the physical well-being of taiko players and PJ Hirabayashi

is well aware of the impact that neglecting this aspect of taiko playing can have in the long-term.

Luckily I was able to pay close attention to warming-up during my days in the studio with PJ and it is

an element I am keen to pass on in my own taiko playing back in the UK. Of course, if you play very

few high –intensity taiko pieces or parts in pieces, this element will not be as important, but for me,

preparing the body with care leads to much more relaxed taiko playing that is beneficial to the

player and visible to the audience.

ODAIKO

I had always been inspired by PJ Hirabayashi’s Odaiko playing. The ergonomic principles that she

applies to all of her taiko playing are translated into a form of taiko playing that is so often over-

powered by muscle and testosterone. The way she plays is gracefully strong and I was keen to work

with her following my time with Kenny Endo. Playing the Odaiko is not something that I ever aspired

to – I just knew that it was an area of weakness in me, and one that I did not want to shy away from.

I thank Oliver Kirby for forcing that issue with me – when I was signing up for workshops at the

North America Taiko Conference in 2011, he suggested I took Kenny Endo’s shime class, to which I

retorted that it would be wasted on me – I was terrible at playing shime. It took someone to point it

out – that it is your perceived weaknesses that need the most work. So, I was prepared to spend a

long time working on Odaiko technique, despite how uncomfortable and unnatural it felt.

I worked on my connection to the ground, my foundation, and pretended to ice-skate in the studio

in order to find my connection with hara34

. PJ Hirabayshi does not know any limits on experimenting

in any way to ensure you experience the theories presented. Being silly, having fun, getting to know

the body and understanding movement is her way of being and therefore playing taiko. Small

changes in thought processes changed things for me to monumental effect. I spent hours finding

how to make a full sound rather than the attacking sound so often heard when drummers are faced

with such a large drum. I had the privilege being present when PJ Hirabayashi was working with

Yurika Chiba35

on interpreting an Odaiko piece to be played as a poem about the spirit that lived

within the drum was recited for San Jose Taiko’s upcoming show. I was quickly involved in the ideas

and ways of expressing the images projected by these words – making a connection between drum,

drummer and audience. I saw PJ Hirabayashi’s creativity at work, gently showing both Yurika Chiba

and me how to link the movement and sounds we devised. I worked through many moments of

frustration, met the limitations I had constructed over the years regarding my abilities and creativity,

and PJ Hirabayashi was there to work through them with me. I have more respect now for Odaiko

playing, more desire to see Odaiko playing that is respectful to both body and drum, and am inspired

34

‘Hara’ is the centre-point in which all your power resides, as believed by martial artists and others

35 Yurika Chiba is a performing member and staff member at San Jose Taiko

52

by PJ Hirabayashi’s interpretation of power: that rather than be powerful, we can do so much more

by becoming empowering.

INSPIRE AND EMPOWER

Taiko is often described as powerful. Spending time with PJ Hirabayashi and considering the concept

of TaikoPeace, I am minded to consider powerful taiko and empowering taiko. There is a difference

between something that is designed to impress and that which is created to inspire.

To be powerful is to have great power, to embody power. To empower is to give someone the

power to do something. To impress is to make an imprint by pressure, taking a large object and

channelling the weight down into a smaller space using force. Turn that around and to inspire36

is to

stimulate someone into activity from a small point and watch as it spirals up and out gaining

momentum and a life of it’s own, spiralling in to out, and out to in; a two way flow.

At taiko’s most theatrical level, this can be explained by the audience’s experience. Producing a

show that throws it’s magnitude at the audience who leave gasping, awe-struck at how strong the

players are, how much endurance was displayed, the discipline demanded from the bodies that

created such impact – that is a show to impress upon the audience the power of the art form and

the artists. And presenting a show that lifts the audience, inviting them to join the level of energy

displayed by the players, the audience members feel stirred at a heart level and feel awakened, so

that they can go and find what it is that will allow them an outlet for their own authentic creativity.

We can see something that we appreciate and enjoy, but when we witness something inspirational

we get a feeling of something else being present, that there is something else at play, that we’re not

alone here.

I believe that when humans experience things, one of their instincts is to relate it to themselves – it’s

a human thing to do. We’ve all listened to a story and allowed that to awaken feelings, & stories of

our own, we relate it to the present moment and often re-interpret, learn from them again. We

watch a film and identify with a character or a situation, environment because we can relate it to

something in our lives. We walk through an art gallery and stop to look at works that speak to us,

finding what they can communicate to us, how they relate to our own emotions. When we watch a

performance, we can appreciate it for what it is, but I also look at the individual people, what they’re

doing, how they’re doing it, what they are showing me. When I see dancers, I get feelings of

wanting to be a dancer myself, remembering the time when I could think of nothing else than being

a dancer. I imagine the dancers’ lives, how they’ve differed from mine, what it would have been like

to have followed that path instead of leaving my favourite thing to do and concentrating on

academic work. Those feelings have never left me – what I feel when I watch Flamenco, ballet,

street dance is not equalled by reading history books. I think it’s the arts that move people, that

reach back into their remembered experiences perhaps even from childhood and continue to speak

to them as adults.

36

The English word ‘spirit’ comes from the Latin ‘spiritus’, meaning ‘breath’ but also "spirit, soul, courage,

vigor", the principle of conscious life. It is also said that inspire comes from the old English word ‘spir’ meaning

a sprout, shoot, or stalk of grass leading to growth.

53

When we watch an impressive Odaiko solo onstage, I’m sure there are people in the audience who

used to have an active physical life and now spend too much time on a keyboard, at the coffee

machine, or behind a steering wheel. Artists have the power to re-kindle deep rooted desire, can be

the catalyst for changes in someone’s life, no matter how small those changes are - and I think

artists have a responsibility to be aware of that impact. Tad James37

has a theory that when you’re

demonstrating something you have to make it good enough to inspire action in others, but not so

good that it become inaccessible, impossible, and unbelievable. Don’t leave your audience feeling

that they are less (healthy, physically in tune, artistic, pure, successful, whatever, just less).

Impressing and powerful leaves a division between one being greater than the other: inspiring and

empowering allows both to be great.

I love to see artists stand in the lobby after a show, willing to meet those who have paid to come and

see them perform. Meeting artists who have moved you can have as much impact on you as the

show itself. The artist either gives the message of ‘yes, I am commanding of respect because of how

strong and powerful I am, and I travel the world playing to thousands of people just like you and

after I meet you I’ll go back to my life of being on stage’ or ‘I work really hard at what I do, I do it

because I love to, and one of the most important parts of doing it is meeting people like you who

make it possible for me to earn my living through this, but who also give me the reason to continue

to do it. I want to hear your story of how you felt, I want to see how the performance moved you,

and I want to show you that I am just a person like you, and we can do anything we want if we work

hard at it’. I have met both types of performers in my life of going to shows or even meeting bands

in pubs, and I know who I would rather be when I meet people in the lobby after I’ve been lucky

enough to have taken part in a show.

Intention of the group and ultimately the group leader makes the difference. As is said, “what you

live comes out in your music”. Do we ask people to marvel at how much we work out, how many

hours we train both physically or mentally or do we invite others to see the beautiful commonality in

a team of people creating such energy and joy together and ask them to join us?

The group founder or group leader has so much responsibility to those s/he teaches, or shares taiko

with. It is from this person, that personality that all is dictated. There are, largely speaking, no

grades or song books to follow in order to pass an exam that qualifies you to teach an

inter/nationally recognised style of taiko. There is nothing to say what is right and what is wrong.

Indeed, there is not much to say whether something is taiko or not. It is by its very nature almost

completely open to the person who has the incentive, the motivation and resources to start a group,

or invite others to play. As Jennifer Jue Uyeda says: “Taiko did not modify according to the land it

lived in, but in relation to the individual players’ background, personality and philosophy.” I believe

that it is the way in which these decisions are made, or whether the leader is aware that there is a

choice, that can be seen on stage or on the faces of the performers of that style of taiko.

I have heard taiko artists talk about how many places they’ve played, what levels they have achieved

and who has recognised their taiko as great taiko and I see a person who is passionate about their

art but not someone who inspires me as a taiko player. The people that inspire me within the world

37

Tad James is a Neuro-Linguistic Programming Practitioner

54

of taiko are those who talk more about others than themselves. PJ Hirabayashi talks of why she

wants to play taiko – she recalls the reaction of someone of an older generation, tearfully proud of

this young Japanese American woman playing Japanese taiko drums so joyfully. The reaction of this

person inspired PJ to continue to play. When Kenny Endo was asked38

what his greatest taiko

moment was, he answered that it was meeting the people in front of him now who wanted to learn

taiko, who were taking an interest in this art form who want to take it forward when he’s gone. This

is a man who has been part of film scores, has played huge venues, collaborated with other

incredible artists and has lived in Japan for ten years experiencing things others only dream about.

And this was his great taiko moment – realising his place in the wider context.

Pear Urushima, PJ Hirabayashi, Judith Kajiwara & Koto Player from San Francisco!

ARE YOU A PLAYER?

There’s being a taiko player, a taiko musician, a taiko artist, and a taiko performer. All deserve

consideration, not to choose, but as lenses in which to view the subtle lights of taiko. I have found it

useful to consider that being a taiko player is about the connection between others on stage –

playing together and as a group. A taiko musician considers the connection between the body and

instrument, and the connection between the player and the musical content. A taiko artist, for me,

explored the connection within; asking where is the motivation for playing, for expressing, for

38

At panel discussion at East Coast Taiko Conference, Brown University, 2013

55

moving in a certain way, for writing the music? A taiko performer considers the connection with the

audience; everything done with the intention of moving others in some way. I think one person can

be all at once, and I find strength in being aware of all. This is just the way I see it now, after my time

with PJ Hirabayashi and Judith Kajiwara, who through TaikoPeace gently open the door for you to

consider this: how do you see yourself?

WHAT IS TAIKOPEACE?

Unsurprisingly to me, much of what I have learned over the entire trip can be under the umbrella of

the initiative ‘TaikoPeace’. The more I think, the more I learn, the more I realise that I don’t know

anything, that teaching allows me to learn more than I ever did as a student, and that I have a

responsibility to be unreasonable. Unreasonable people change the environment to fit their desires,

whilst reasonable people change their desires to fit the environment. When you feel passionately

about something for long enough, you want to make a change, a statement, to stand up for what

you believe. In the world of taiko, it can be the same – empowering yourself to speak up for what

you want to see more of, and not fear questioning anything, as long as it’s done respectfully.

I have struggled to paraphrase what TaikoPeace as an initiative is. PJ Hirabayashi is still discovering

what it means and how best to communicate it. Through all of its first impressions as ‘Californian’

and any bohemian connotations of the word peace, (!) I did try to find a more ‘English’ way of

describing it. However, I never did it justice. Taiko can’t be described at the best of times, and I

have to settle with saying that for me, TaikoPeace is what the taiko piece ‘Ei Ja Nai Ka?’ means:

everything from a casual “what the heck?” to deep contemplation of the perfect harmony of the

universe! It is seeing the wood and the trees within it, exploring the smallest beginnings of a

particular movement to the fundamentals of ergonomic movement. It gives space to discover the

body as instrument – voice and movement as well as playing the drum.

TaikoPeace extends the reach of the Charter of Compassion through practice and action. It looks to

create a new community that nurtures and encourages new leaders I have spent time looking at

what it means within taiko, to treat others as we wish to be treated ourselves, both within our own

groups & classes and within the taiko community. Realising that taiko is not about one person’s

achievements and praise; it looks at how we truly engage ourselves in empowering new leaders

within our groups, so that the group is more than the potential of one person alone. Roy

Hirabayashi recently pointed me to consider starfish and spiders in ‘The unstoppable power of

leaderless organisations’ and realising the real strength in empowering your group to be so much

bigger than you could make it by leading from one place. Whilst this is different for many people

and groups, in my experience there is a deeper purpose felt by many that is expressed in different

ways. Jonathan Kirby says “taiko is a way of increasing the global quota of human happiness”.

James Barrow says “There is a higher purpose taiko could serve, and I know it. But I’m not sure I’m

the one to open it” – he is looking for new leaders to emerge, happy for others to be interested

enough to want to go there.

TaikoPeace is not a club to join; for me, quite simply, TaikoPeace is the place to grow ideas that are

given limited space in a regular taiko session. TaikoPeace is not exactly another branch on the taiko

tree – it’s not a different style of playing or school of thought – it is just a way of looking at the whole

tree in a different light.

56

TaikoPeace extends the reach of the Charter of Compassion39

through practice and action. It looks

to create a new community that nurtures and encourages new leaders so that the burden is not all

on one person, and so that we are working towards the same goal. I have spent time looking at

what it means within taiko, to treat others as we wish to be treated ourselves, both within our own

groups & classes and within the taiko community. Realising that taiko is not about one person’s

achievements and praise, it looks at how we truly engage ourselves in empowering new leaders

within our groups, so that the group is more than the wishes of one person. Roy Hirabayashi

recently pointed me to consider starfish and spiders in ‘The unstoppable power of leaderless

organisations’ in realising the real strength in empowering your group to be so much bigger than you

could make it by leading from one place.

Brene Brown, in her TEDx Houston talk relays that in studying human relationships and society, she

has found three things that are core to us as humans: Courage, Compassion and Connection. I truly

believe that taiko can explore and enhance our awareness of these three things that are important

to us as humans, wherever we are from. On one hand, taiko is the playing of Japanese instruments,

and can be enjoyable and taken no further. What TaikoPeace explores is what so many have

concluded – that taiko can be so much more. Transcending all else, the beat of the taiko, the visual

and physical returns us all to being human. We become again a heartbeat, flesh and bones, a

spiritual being in a physical world expressing our desire to connect with one another. Denying that

taiko has this power is to try to eat the packaging of some great food. It has the look and

appearance of the food, and may be what made you buy the food in the first place. But look inside

and you’ll find something that will nourish and sustain you for a lot longer…undoubtedly taiko is

more than the simple, powerful fun exterior, and it is in the travelling to experience it, eating with

taiko players, talking to them, asking questions, that you find out about not just taiko, but yourself.

WHY BUTOH AND TAIKO?

Butoh, as taught by Judith Kajiwara (and there are many different expressions of it) is about learning

different modalities for the purpose of teaching the body as instrument and establishes a connection

between our bodies and what we are doing when we’re drumming and moving. When we know the

instrument (ourselves) better, we can make better use of it and our music, our message, can come

from a ‘better’ place. Where does that taiko movement come from? Really come from? Butoh

allows a better relationship with your body, and any physical obstacles you might have. It is not

always beautiful, elegant or desirable and it is in exploring this that we discover what gives us beauty

and strength. Butoh gives us a platform to explore being courageous, to begin to tell our stories

with our whole hearts, through the expressive body, without self editing of words or clever wit to

hide our insecurities. By letting go of the mind and giving control to our bodies we find that they are

in fact well equipped to tell our stories in a way that speaks to the hearts of others. It is a peculiar

art form, and one that I would probably have rejected as “weird contemporary theatre” but one that

I have seen to most effectively, efficiently, simply and beautifully reveal people. It is the closest I

have come to truly original, authentic movement. A bit like Oedo Sukeroku’s style pursuing the most

pure sound of the taiko in the most efficient way, butoh pursues truth from the body.

39

The Charter for Compassion is Karen Armstrong’s action to restore compassion to the heart of all religions

and communities. www.charterforcompassion.org and is the inspiration for PJ Hirabayashi’s TaikoPeace

initiative.

57

Practicing butoh may seem like a disconnected activity in conjunction with playing or practicing

taiko. However, the process of butoh - of slowing everything down to the slowest movement

imaginable - is so opposite to the speed at which we play taiko that it allows for a deeper connection

to be made within the body. You start to feel where movement starts and how it feels; soon enough

you understand more about choreographing your own taiko moves because you have given time to

understanding how you move. Butoh largely removes rules, instructions and prescribed notions -

again, opposite to how many practice taiko where rhythms and movements are sequenced and

learned. But they needn’t be opposites and a beneficial partnership between the two can emerge.

Slowing down to consider freedom of movement will connect when improvising in taiko. Knowing

your body and feeling movement will assist in executing taiko movements. When it comes to

choreographing, conceptualising and arranging a taiko piece or song of your own, butoh practice can

boost the confidence, and courage needed to go through with it. Butoh is not for everyone, and

many different styles of butoh teachers exist. My experience of butoh was powerful and long lasting

to this day, inspiring me to create, and to consider myself as having the potential to be an artist

where I would never have opened that thought before.

IS JA NAI KA? A PERSONAL STORY SHARED

‘Ei Ja Nai Ka?’ is a taiko piece written by PJ Hirabayashi in 1994 that has become well-known all over

North America. It is a song, a dance, a taiko piece that is free-spirited, accessible and is great fun to

play, dance and watch! It is danced and played at many taiko conferences, festivals and impromptu

gatherings – Stanford Taiko even began an ‘Ei Ja Nai Ka?’ circle outside the Exeter Northcott theatre

in 2012 before the concert started. I never set out to learn how to teach this song. PJ Hirabayashi

and I were discussing how I could best share what I felt so passionately about during my travels.

Having experienced Obon in Hawaii, I wanted to help people to connect with this spirit of

celebration without having to get on a plane. I wanted to encourage others to experience the

madness of Gion Matsuri, of Seido Kobayashi’s memories of Bon taiko being about everyone in the

matsuri creating energy together that became the energy that played through the taiko. When PJ

Hirabayashi suggested that I might do this through ‘Ei Ja Nai Ka?’ I never looked back. What a

wonderful way to bring people together from all different groups. Jonathan agreed that the UK

Taiko Festival in 2013 should be the place!

‘Ei Ja Nai Ka?’ literally means “isn’t it good?” It also means, more colloquially, “what the heck?”

There is a story that in the 1700s Japanese villagers protested in the streets against rising taxes and

no food. They had nothing to loose, they needed to break out and do something, and apparently

sung down the streets “Ei ja nai ka ei ja nai ka!?” ranting and raving. They were in the moment, with

nothing to lose. There are too many threads that came together to form this wonderful piece to go

into here, but the main elements are a drum pattern, the words that give it that literal meaning, and

a circular dance. The dance moves weave a story of Japanese American immigrants working the

land as they did years ago, paving the way for so many more to become established in America,

through hardship and discrimination, this dance is a celebration, remembering those who worked so

hard before and taking the moment to say “what the heck?” and get up and dance, whilst at the

same time having deep appreciation for everything life is.

58

WHAT DOES ‘EI JA NAI KA?’ MEAN IN THE UK?

Taiko is a very personal thing – there are as many different ways of playing taiko as there are people.

We are all different, have different ways of learning, internalising, expressing and we have different

motivations for playing, started playing at different ages, have different experiences that influence

our style, learn from different teachers, and play on different equipment. Yet we are all the same.

We have all learned things about how we learn, found a way to interpret and express ourselves

through taiko. We’ve all discovered a reason to play, materialised something to play on, somewhere

to practice, and solutions to logistical nightmares that go with the territory. Isn’t it good? When we

get together as a group of people we each have had our day with our own hills to climb and views to

enjoy with everything in between, yet we all make space for this one thing. Isn’t it good? When we

step out as a taiko group to share what we love with others, we treat out team members with

respect that they are going ‘out there’ too, doing their best and baring their vulnerability with you,

understanding if someone is edgy, reacts tensely or forgets to do something important, because

we’re all there too. When we get on stage, be that under theatre lights or a bus shelter, we play as

one, reacting as humans to unexpected changes to the programme, alterations to a rehearsed song,

to the speed at which something is played, and we all move as one organism to the same goal…to

stay together and deliver the best we can. Isn’t it good? When we talk about taiko, we do so with

passion and an inquisitive nature, finding out more about it, and more about ourselves, creating new

and different connections within ourselves and with other disciplines, art forms, people. When we

congregate with other taiko players at a festival, or conference we see taiko performances that

make us want to reach up to our next step to push ourselves and achieve our next best, and we see

taiko groups who make us question ‘is that taiko?’ and see groups that make us smile from the core

of our being because they are so clearly connected with and passionate about what they are doing.

Isn’t it good?

Does it make sense for people without Japanese ancestors to play? Is it right that I teach it? What if

you’ve never been to an Obon festival in Hawaii or North American? Here we look again at finding

commonalities, not differences. Many of us have ancestral paths that lead back to agricultural work.

We all know what it is like to remember those who have passed on and wish to pay respect to their

importance and presence in our lives, we all have a want to connect with other people, other

families. I believe that we have a yearning to understand one another, to dance with one another,

and it takes courage from everyone to do so. We’re not all that different, and if we’ve gone there to

think about it, we have not a right to play taiko, dance Ei Ja Nai Ka?, create with innovation in this art

form, but we have a responsibility to do so. I would always rather someone got up and joined in

rather than sat back and doubted, or worse, ignored the human need to reach out, connect, listen,

learn together about ourselves, each other, and dance!

59

Conclusions

WHAT IS TAIKO?

As Kagemusha Taiko says in school workshops, taiko is the word for drum in Japanese, and it also

means a style or way of drumming together in a group with these instruments. To someone who

has never heard of taiko before, it is a fairly easy question to answer with the aid of a few photos or

video clips handy. As Jennifer Jue Uyeda observes, however; no two taiko ensembles are the same

in style, technique, attitude, approach, age, group size, purpose. Of course there is a natural

difference between a school project that has been set up by a music service and a professional

touring group, but between like groups there is still poignant diversity. Having now travelled around

the world asking this question, I’ve heard taiko professionals and pioneers explain what taiko is, or

moreover I have listened to many people explain what taiko is to them. It’s like asking ten witnesses

to the same event to say what they think happened; they will have similar but different answers.

Ultimately, this question can be time consuming and unrewarding. It’s an instrument, it’s about

being outstanding, it’s a way of life, it’s fun, it’s connection with a culture, it’s spiritual practice, it’s

spreading joy and compassion…Whatever your personal answer to this question, ‘What is taiko?’

one thing rings in my mind. Don’t sit in one place and theorise or talk about other styles or other

groups unless you’ve taken the time to go and see and experience them.

Talking or writing about taiko and experiencing taiko is a bit like the difference between being

knowledgeable and being wise. It is said that in Hebrew and Latin, the word for wisdom comes from

the word taste - it’s in action, not thought - just because you’ve read a recipe doesn’t mean you

know what the food tastes like. I met a lot of people, and as taiko players, ended up sitting down

and eating a lot of food. Taking the time to share with them opens the possibility for so much more

than learning a new technique, or watching a piece and learning to play it from a video. Even when I

found a philosophy that I struggled to understand, or a teaching method I disagreed with, there was

person communicating, expressing something of truth to the world through taiko.

Taiko’s holistic nature makes it open to endless interpretation and exploration, and if anything

succinct, as Jennifer Jue Uyeda says, “taiko is everything from a hollowed out tree trunk, to a way of

life.”

WHY DO YOU PLAY TAIKO?

This is a question that I asked as I travelled around the taiko world, and there are as many answers

as there are taiko players and I’m not about to write them all out. Jennifer Uyeda suggests that

there are three primary reasons that people play taiko: to evoke nostalgia about Japanese

experiences; to build & develop international and intercultural relationships; to explore & create

new sounds and musical possibilities in percussion. PJ Hirabayashi suggests that there are only two:

to share Japanese culture, and reasons of conscious activism. You might say that some people play

taiko to do something fun, to learn a new instrument, to promote a certain identity, to feel a sense

of community or sense of belonging, to challenge ourselves, to affect positive social change, or

simply to have an excuse to be loud! The answer is not important, whereas I suggest asking the

question is interesting and empowering.

60

TRADITION & INNOVATION – WHY ARE THEY SEEN AS OPPOSITES?

The questions that arise when thinking about the clash of tradition and innovation is often talked

about amongst taiko players., It can concern rhythms, instruments, teaching methods, leadership

styles and repertoire, group purpose and more. Having experienced many of the above in both

traditional and non-traditional aspects, I can only say that whatever choices are made when forming

a taiko group and exploring content, I commend active choice rather than inherited action.

I’ve experienced ways of learning that were different and more difficult to how I first learned; they

seemed harder to grasp and perhaps even disabling to the learning process and I questioned why

you would teach something in anything other than the easiest possible way for others to learn.

However, it all depends on what outcome you want from that learning process – whether you want

to learn to play something quickly, or whether you want to learn to play something so that you can

play it with the deepest understanding and conviction that you can. It is well known that some

groups will ask you to watch without playing for a long time when you join a group. Many expect

your learning to come purely from observation, with no room for things to be taught, or to be

questioned. I had previously been encouraged to think that this was some sort of power trip, testing

someone’s commitment to learn and ensuring their respect. Other groups will ask you to join in

immediately, break everything down and simplify things until everyone in the room gets it and is

able to move on – here the process of learning is part of the culture of the group and I assumed that

this was the only fair way to be. However, I have experienced people who because they have made

their weekly payment, almost demand to have a complete written version of an original piece to

take away with them. Their asking is not wrong as most often it comes from enthusiasm to learn,

but does indicate that their awareness of what they ask may be lacking. I think there is a lot to be

said for observation of a group. Considering not only a piece of repertoire from afar but the group

as a whole can be informative and enriching, whilst going straight in and being fed bites of

information you wonder – will you ever think for yourself and ask questions of the whole process or

group; is there time or space for this?

Leadership can be seen through the lens of tradition and innovation. Some groups will have you line

up in order of your experience: one line of teachers, one line of students with a visual divide. Some

start and finish sessions in a circle where there are either known seniors or everyone is accepted as

equals. I know which I prefer, and that is whatever is most clear. Whilst I wouldn’t personally join a

group that has a dividing factor as I naturally lean towards more collective groups, there is definite

strength in clarity. Some groups want the assumed equality and good feel of a circle and accept

questions and feedback and at the same time there is one person making all decisions with no

established forum or culture for real discussion. I have spoken with people in this situation and

agree that it is most confusing and that clarity is paramount. San Jose Taiko were breaking ground in

this area when they decided on a new way to run a taiko group and have settled on the brilliant

concept that everyone must find a way to be ‘moderately happy.’ San Jose Taiko recognise that if

people invest their time and energy into a group, they want to feel truly a part of it and want to

know that not only their opinions but their feelings are considered. The empowerment will drive

individuals to commit more time and energy to the group and propel the group forwards with a

momentum much bigger than if one person holds all the decision making potential and also has to

drive the team forward under their own steam. Traditionally a taiko group would have one at the

top, and whether they are called sensei or not, if the group’s members to not expect to input

61

anything into group sessions other than to follow instructions, that is a top down approach. San Jose

Taiko’s innovative approach to leadership opened the way for groups to feel empowered and took

the Buddhist taiko groups’ model where everyone plays at the level of the slowest/newest player

onto a new plain where professional levels have been met and a community culture has been

nurtured.

When discussing tradition, the question of language often arises. Some groups call their teacher

‘sensei’40

and call their practice space a ‘dojo’41

. In Japan, this is fairly straightforward – when in

Rome…But these two terms in particular pack a powerful punch to the taiko tourist. When does

someone become a sensei? Do you call a teacher sensei out of respect? Have you realised the

responsibility you place on someone as you call them sensei? It’s not an easy road to navigate – just

because you have taken one workshop with someone who is called sensei by their group doesn’t

mean that they are now your sensei, but they have taught you something. There’s no easy answer,

and most people will not be offended either way, but it does say something, like it or not, about

your group. In the UK there are examples of those who have learned in Japan who on returning to

England do not use the term sensei, and those who actually first learned taiko in the UK but want to

be called sensei. Does one have anything to do with the other? There are no rules, but it

communicates a message. The same applies to what you call your space. Some have a dedicated

taiko space and don’t call it a dojo, and some hire out a village hall that has pole dancing classes and

pantomimes performed in it and want to call that space their dojo for the time it has taiko in it.

Again, there are no rules. Do you count in Japanese when talking rhythms? Do you use Japanese

language where there are no current Japanese cultural connections? Do you use traditional names

for instruments, rhythm patterns, equipment, or whatever makes the most sense to the group?

These all differ in varying degrees across groups and awareness is the key. What are you saying

about your relationship with tradition and Japan in using the language that you do?

Nothing should be thrown out on sight without understanding it’s benefits and reasons for

existence, and never should it be thought that there is just one way to do something properly - both

of which I have seen and experienced. I suggest that experience, consideration, acceptance and

respect for any way of doing something is important and that everything should be considered and

chosen for it’s appropriateness for the situation.

I learned a lot from what Kenny Endo said; that you should know tradition so that you can break it,

and I think it can be applied to many aspects of taiko. I will take the time to understand where things

have come from – the rhythms, instruments, techniques, styles etc and will continue to experience

the differences myself. But I won’t rest there. I will ask questions, really basic ones, and talk to

people to see what makes sense to me. I am urged to look at my current context and involve my

personal and cultural influences in a process of considering innovation within this art form. Neither

tradition nor innovation will be authentic or genuine if in isolation.

40

‘Sensei’ is a Japanese term meaning teacher, or one who has gone before. This can be used as teacher of

anything. It is widely used in the martial arts world and is sporadically used in the taiko world.

41 ‘Dojo’ is a Japanese term meaning place of learning, or place of ‘do’ or art.

62

But I do think we have a responsibility to get people to think about where everything has come from

and acknowledge what it has taken to get there. I have understood when the taiko pioneers have

grown weary at having so much expected of them in this respect.

The founders have been digging the foundations for the taiko castle, or digging over the taiko flower

beds for our roots to grow into - however you want to see it, taiko didn’t just land here by itself.

People have taken significant risks and life path changes for taiko to be present in the UK, and have

done it because they chose to, but it doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be thanked for it. I will more

consciously pay my respects to the pioneers of taiko in this country as we so often look elsewhere. I

will encourage others to go elsewhere to learn whatever they can, and then to move on and create

something of their own; something that resonates personally, that can become something new.

Kenny Endo recently said at the East Coast Taiko Conference that he’s not sure if this is a taiko

blossoming, or an epidemic. It’s happening, it’s growing, and it’s wonderful to be a part of, but I

don’t want to forget that there are people watching what we do with this gift, and that it is a gift. I

don’t want to take anything for granted and want to take time to be considerate of things - my taiko

playing, artistry, performance, whatever it is best called, will be all the better for it; I am certain of

that.

AUTHENTICITY - “IT’S THE WAY YOU PLAY IT!”

Authenticity is a word often mentioned with regards taiko, but I’m not sure everyone means the

same thing when using it, and after careful consideration, I’m not sure it is a concept that’s either

very useful or actually stands up at all. I think people talk about authenticity in two extremes:

groups outside of Japan who are studying Japanese taiko pieces and playing them with Japanese

taiko spirit and aiming to win recognition and praise from Japanese taiko players for accuracy and

groups using good technique and taiko skills as a medium to express themselves and their culture.

I have heard both be called authentic, genuine, valid, true…all these words are used for a similar

notion, but to what end? To say whether something is valid as taiko? Like an opinion on any aspect

of taiko playing, this question of authenticity it is entirely subjective.

Although I’m not out to call anything right or wrong, I am passionate about speaking up for what I

wish to see flourish in my taiko backyard whilst delighting in very the presence of differences. The

taiko that has a lasting, positive impact on me is when I see people who are convinced by what

they’re doing. I do believe that you should create your own art and establish your own identity and

not just copy someone else’s. This isn’t to say that everyone should go out and write an entire set of

original taiko works although I’m sure everyone should aim for it one day, but even taking ownership

of the artistic content in some way – the configuration of stage, stylistic twists, solos, even costume

– exploring something and finding a way to express yourself through it will for me, always result in

more a convincing and enjoyable performance for the player and for the audience. As a result of

authenticity, you are willing to let go of who you think you should be in order to be who you are.

Only when you have authenticity do you achieve connection.

And this all boils down to how something is played, and it is in this that I find the root to what I have

previously mis-termed authenticity. If you are connecting with something that is outside of you,

63

copying something, I find it difficult to find a genuinely convincing performance no matter how

skilled. If you are connecting with something within you, expressing something, it can lead to a

mesmerising performance, technical accomplishments aside. It is the same principle of a great

statement I heard: A boring piece can be a boring piece or it can be an exciting piece - it’s the way

you play it.

MAKING A MEAL OUT OF ORINGINALITY

As sure as most of us didn’t know instinctively how to play taiko, we may also not know where to

start in a kitchen full of raw ingredients without some form of training. Most of us can follow a good

recipe book or a cookery programme. We might want to make sure we’re confident in cooking that

dish before moving on to something else, but invariably we turn our attention to something else

because we’re surrounded by a world full of variety and it’s natural to us. We might go to

someone’s house for dinner and love what they served, and ask if they might teach you how to make

that.

How you move on from following a recipe to creating three course meals from scratch without

prescription usually starts because you’re trying to cook from a recipe and you forget one of the

ingredients (we’ve all forgotten how ‘that bit’ goes in a taiko piece) and you put something else in

that you think might work. You might get inspired by a texture, a colour, a flavour, and start to

experiment and soon enough you’re not really sure what it is you’re cooking, where the idea came

from or even if it has a name, but it either tastes good to you or it doesn’t, and ultimately that’s your

call. Inviting others over for dinner is another matter, whilst you are inviting their opinions, they

cannot say that it isn’t food, because the intent was that it would be, and you have a choice whether

you allow those opinions to inform your future creations or not.

Some say that accreditation is the key, and of course it is (I have experienced original pieces being

given a new name and no mention of a former existence and it’s not nice), but somewhere you have

to ask – isn’t it more fulfilling to be original? The argument that nothing is original doesn’t stand for

me, as it is the intent behind it and I believe you can see it. You can definitely ask about it. Where

did the inspiration for that piece come from? There should be an answer there somewhere.

Of course it’s easy to say, and then the question of ‘traditional pieces’ comes about. Many assume

that because they see the word ‘traditional’ in the programme this means ‘open source’, whereas

for me they are very different. Of course I don’t consider ‘traditional’ taiko pieces – Chichibu Yatai

Bayashi, Miyake etc to be ‘wrong’ to play; for me it comes down to why it’s being done, how far that

group has gone to find out about it, and how much they’ve considered why they are doing it.

Where it becomes tricky is when people start opening restaurants and making money – it’s the

difference that occurs when you stop playing just for fun. Ultimately, there are greasy spoon café’s,

gastro-pubs and Michelin star restaurants. There is space for all three and everything in between.

I’d be disappointed if Michael Caines restaurant produced something I’d cooked last week from a

Jamie Oliver recipe book. But how do I feel about paying top price for a ‘traditional English roast’? I

know how I’d feel – I’d be more than happy but would certainly expect that chef to know everything

about that meal, every ingredient, and actually do something different with it, and I wouldn’t really

64

think him worthy of that Michelin star unless s/he did. Suddenly when it ceases to be about taiko

this all becomes very clear.

You can get into this as much as you can get into food; anywhere from buying a ready-made meal to

only ever shopping at your local farm shop. I’m becoming a fan of locally sourced products. Being

able to visit the farm and see where the ingredients grow allows a deeper connection with your

food. Exploring your own culture, your own family history, geographic location, and regional

diversity will bring so much joy because it’s right there around you, and you can tell stories about it.

You might make a stir-fry from vegetables grown in Devon soil, and that’s not wrong - it’s taking an

interest with awareness of what you’re doing, and being original that makes it exciting for me. You

can find out what stand the drum you’re playing came from, find out what type of wood your bachi

are made of, know who made your taiko and know why you hold your bachi up in a cross before and

after playing on a naname stand. Even if you go to Japan, talk to Kobayashi and ask him, and the

story you hear, that it is to gesture the upturned hachimaki42

of the Edo character Sukeroku, is not

the same as someone else’s version, then at least you asked the question and you’ve got a great

story!

There is a point at which you say, what difference does it make if I don’t know the name for the

drum I’m playing, any taiko history or anything other than remembering the rhythms and moves,

and perhaps there is no difference. But for me it’s not about knowing this stuff but rather the

process gone through to find out that is going to create a personal connection with what you’re

doing, and for me is where it gets interesting.

No-one is truly original in their taiko playing, the concepts here are gained, borrowed and adopted

from others: by now there is but a fraction of originality in what I say or do. What I can hope to do is

to find a balance of two extremes: the melting pot where information & styles are absorbed from

different places, infused and blended to make a new style or viewpoint, and the kaleidoscope where

styles, cultures and differences are preserved and juxtaposed, remaining distinct. Intention is

everything – not caring where anything comes from and being so rigid that you only study with a

preservation group and do not stray from the set path can be very limiting. There does come a point

where separating where exactly you learned what, who’s original concept something was, where the

influences came from in either practical or theoretical terms is difficult.

DIVERSITY

What I have seen as I have travelled, and what I see in Britain is a wonderfully thriving taiko

community, and echoes what Jennifer Jue Uyeda saw: “at the core of my overall experience was a

feeling of unity despite difference.” However, it is naive to ignore entirely the element that exists

both locally and globally of division rather than diversity.

Talking with James Barrow we discussed the difference of some people’s experience of taiko as the

difference between having span and depth. With some extreme examples of this, we discovered

how easy it becomes to think you have to decide which is ‘better’.

42

Hachimaki is a Japanese headband

65

Span: People get a wide view of taiko, and where one particular style is not learned in particular

depth, more people get involved and a broader range and a sense of a global context is attained.

Depth: People get a macro lens on taiko, and where some will want to take it that far, others will

leave it before it gets that deep. One style is learned intimately, but perhaps out of a global taiko

context.

Span: Having a vision of taiko growing quickly, spreading to every town, empowering the idea that

anyone can play and teach taiko.

Depth: Feeling that taiko can only grow truly when it is kept as being taught thoroughly, over a long

period of time to few people.

Span: Thinking of taiko as great fun, songs that can be learned as quickly as possible in order that the

joy of taiko can be spread.

Depth: Taking taiko playing to a personal level, considering where from within it comes from,

considering the ‘why’, the reason behind compositions and considering taiko’s ‘higher purpose’.

A recent conversation with Mark Alcock of Taiko Meantime, prompted a thought about our taiko

family tree. In the UK, five people arrived back into the UK within a very short time of each other

having had taiko experiences and wanting to establish taiko in their home country. In the space of a

few short years, there were five different takes of taiko being brought into the mix of a fairly small

island.

In the USA, most taiko groups can trace a line back to one or two groups, and many to San Francisco

Taiko Dojo, although so many have now gone outside to develop their own roots and connections to

Japan, of course. Considering the size of North America, in comparison the UK has huge diversity

from the outset. If you trace taiko’s history in Japan, as Professor Shaun Bender does so diligently,

we discover that of course, there is not just one origin of even the taiko instrument and that the

modern style of taiko or kumi-daiko began in pockets around the country and was not started by just

one person deciding that it was about just one thing. Taiko has drawn from many Japanese

traditions and continues to do so as an ever-changing art form. It is perhaps helpful to the progress

of UK taiko to acknowledge that those few who brought their experiences of taiko back to the UK to

found what is now the UK taiko scene, did so having learnt the skill not only from one place in the

USA or Japan, but also from only one time in that one place. With this in mind, if we get hung up on

ensuring that we are following only those people’s understanding, we are necessarily limiting our

progress and seriously at of risk misunderstanding what taiko is about in those places of origin. In

the intervening decades taiko in Japan and in the USA will have moved on whether we are aware of

it or not. Some have sought to keep their knowledge refreshed, but I’ve not seen constant and

planned communication between players who have first studied in Japan and the schools in which

they studied. Perhaps, for the development of the art, it is most healthy this way. An element of

Chinese whispers – relying only on what that person took away from their experience in one place at

one time – will lead to taiko that is more alive and ‘authentic’ than something which is only about

the preservation of one style.

UK taiko started around forty years later than Japanese groups, or twenty years later than North

American groups and we therefore benefitted from more established “parents” and a more solid

global taiko foundation. This has allowed a certain depth to be achieved at the same time as great

span. No tradition holds us in the UK to preserve styles or teaching methods, and we have all

borrowed flavours from different kitchens and have a broad range of connections and experiences

66

to draw from. We have the best of both worlds which is something to really embrace as part of UK

taiko identity, if there is such a thing.

This way is in our very nature as a nation. Always coming back to the stuff that really binds taiko

players together, food, I refer to Jamie Oliver as he says "What’s really interesting and special about

Britain is that we love to learn from other cultures and adopt their food as our own...What the

British are very good at is taking the best bits of other nations’ foods — we’re a magpie nation in

that respect. If you go down the high street in many British cities, you’ll get Italian restaurants,

Chinese, Indian, Japanese, French, Spanish, Greek, Turkish…Britain is a thriving, cosmopolitan, foodie

heaven." And so perhaps Britain is a thriving, cosmopolitan, taiko fan’s heaven (whatever heaven

actually means) and we can be proud of it. Diversity in perspective, history, culture and geography

and all other things that make us different only contribute to the vibrancy and richness of something

we all share.

CONNECTION – “IT’S NOT ABOUT EXECUTING RHYTHMS, IT’S ABOUT COMMUNICATING THEM”

Taiko undoubtedly brings people together – Japanese neighbours at matsuri, Japanese American

communities in post WW2 America, and now taiko brings people together from around the globe for

the sake of taiko. There is the One Earth Celebration on Sado Island, Japan, KASA Mix (where people

visit Kodo for an apprenticeship experience), North American Taiko Conference, UK Taiko Festival

and local festivals, gatherings, intensive workshops, and concerts that will inspire people to travel

great distances so that they can meet people, learn from them and feel part of something bigger.

On a local level, we all travel to taiko practice to commit our time to being part of that group or

class. Jan Howe of Kagemusha Taiko often marvels at the mixed bunch of people from such different

walks of life who would never have known each other coming together once a week to be a part of

Tano Taiko in Devon.

When looking at why people play taiko, you can usually relate that reason to some sort of a

connection. Inspired by meeting Mark H Rooney, I now think about taiko as five connections:

1. Physical connection between hand, bachi, taiko, stage.

2. Group connection between taiko players – without a connection, it’s just people in a room with

drums making noise.

3. Performance connection between you those who watch, listen and experience, be it at practice,

on the street, in the seated theatre audience.

4. Musical connection between player and music being played, understanding the composition,

interpreting the mood, the feel of the music.

5. Personal connections within each player – as we step out of our comfort zones and explore new

things about ourselves.

There are so many connections as the list goes on. Music, and drumming in particular is used widely

as a way of reconnecting with yourself at the end of a day, connecting with others at a live gig, and

its healing properties are well known by therapists. As Ed Mikenes, Music Educator says:

“Drumming provides an authentic experience of unity, physiological synchronicity. If we put people

together who are out of sync with themselves (addicted, diseased) and help them experience the

67

phenomenon of entrainment, it is possible for them to feel with and through others what it is like to

be synchronous in a state of preverbal connectedness.” Although not everyone will experience the

power of drumming to this extent, the more general but no less poignant fact is that connections

most feel are that of musician to audience. Iyer, Jazz musician says, music is “…not about executing

rhythms, it’s about communicating them. It’s placing the experience of that music in their [the

audience’s] bodies that’s the priority. What you’re really hearing is action and the sense of human

action that it contains.”

In a recent TaikoPeace workshop, we asked participants what they would like more time for next

time, and they agreed that they had more time to work with everyone there, to establish

connections with everyone. It’s interesting that no-one said they wished they’d played more taiko,

learned a more complex piece, focused more on technique - they wanted more time to explore the

people they were interacting with. For me throughout this trip, it’s been sitting together chatting,

eating and drinking where the most incredible taiko realisations and connections have been made.

A player can have perfect technique, write brilliant compositions and move gracefully and fluidly,

but without the ability to connect with the people they’re playing with, or for, it looses something,

and for me, it’s the most important thing.

COURAGE

Courage is for me tied up in concepts of conviction. Do you have the courage to step outside of

what you think you should be and be who you know you are? Have you found the way to let go of

self-doubt and solo feely and confidently at the level you are at? A good solo is nothing to do with

skill. The best solos I have seen in taiko are about how that person feels playing taiko – have they

been encouraged to let go and be proud of themselves or are they embarrassed, trying to do

something well enough not to call attention to themselves? The concept of courage is often down

to the teacher or culture of the group – do you en-courage others? All taiko groups have people

who are technically more accomplished who are more confident performers – how do they act

within their group? Do they really inspire others to be their best, providing a place where people

feel comfortable enough to experiment and play? When someone is inspired, they are said to be “in

spirit”. They are not thinking about what’s missing, about the problems, about anything at all. Fear,

doubt, self-absorption disappear and they reach their potential in that moment. En-couraging

someone to get to that place is one of the best things we can do as humans.

I have heard it said that “I had to do it the hard way so why should I provide the place for another to

get there more easily?” – I feel sadness for that person when what I want to see someone strong

enough to help everyone reach their potential. Encouraging others – to give them courage to be

themselves, telling their whole story without fear of disappointment or judgement – is what spurs

me on down the road of taiko.

When I was in Maui I talked to Yuta Kato who told me of a young teenage taiko player in Zenshin

Daiko who pulled out a solo move that impressed him so much that he stayed after practice to do it

– he couldn’t. That teenage girl had learned from him, internalised his teachings and come out with

something that she hadn’t learned, that came from within her and had the confidence to perform it.

68

I have never seen anyone so pleased that they couldn’t do something – his purpose was to teach

those young people to be the masters of their own futures and he had succeeded.

Courage has a lot to do with how you choose to see yourself. TaikoPeace has asked the question of

me: are you a taiko player, a taiko performer, or a taiko artist? One is not better than the other, it is

not a simple progression, but it will allow you to consider how you see yourself and where you want

to be, why you are doing what you are doing, and how you want to be seen by others and most

importantly, by yourself.

COMPASSION, PASS IT ON43

I have seen things written about other taiko groups, heard opinions about certain people within the

community that have upset me deeply. Someone in the taiko community was so fearful of

something that they saw fit to create an online persona through which to communicate their wildly

negative feelings about taiko in the UK to those very people. The fact that a person felt so limited in

communication and harboured such hostility deeply saddened those it touched but we cannot just

look to that person and place blame. How have we created a world in which these

misunderstandings occur, where there is no forum for discussion, information sharing, open and

respectful questioning? I would like to see the UK taiko players come together to discuss these

important points, to step into the responsibility they have fostered as the pioneers of this art form in

the UK. We all know how hard it is to find enough hours in the day to make a living through playing,

teaching, sharing taiko. We would all like to see everyone in the taiko world and within the arts in

general get paid justly for the effort they make and the enriching role they play in society. But we

must make time to set the way for the future, to ensure that this experience does not go to the

grave but is dug into the younger generations coming up through the soil. Perhaps it is down to the

newer generations of taiko players to make this happen. It is a mark of maturity to consider the

succession of your taiko group or company. I think many consider that it’s just what they do in their

lives – they want to play taiko, so they have a group, and they have to teach to make a living, and it’s

great to share this art form. But what of the people who have bought that ticket, who want to play

taiko after you? Is that all their responsibility? To find out the hard way, start out on your own? I’m

sure most established taiko groups and pioneers in the UK have considered what happens when

they themselves stop playing. I want to see people discuss it openly, to invest fully in training people

to teach, to nurture leadership in others so that their hard work in digging the foundations is not lost

but built upon. In a way it can be humble to think “oh, it’s just me and what I do, it’s not important”

but it is also to shed responsibility of what you have started. This is a movement. Whether a

blossoming or an epidemic, it’s not about to stop, and we can begin to garden it.

What I wish to see is others eternally questioning their thoughts and actions. On a simple and

benign matter that we all consider as taiko players, will you take a workshop from someone because

they have flown thousands of miles to share taiko with you? How lucky we are that we have that

opportunity. Would you take a workshop from someone who has been playing taiko for less years

than you and lives only a couple of hours away? Do we assume to know things about our fellow

43

This is the slogan on a tee shirt of J. Jill’s compassion fund. www.jjill.com

69

taiko players that when we think about it, we have just heard or assumed rather than experienced

ourselves? Now consider what you really think about the most extreme taiko philosophy or practice

and ask yourselves why you think that. Being aware of the impact, the ripple effect that we have on

everyone we talk to, come into contact with, and the message that this sends is paramount.

Compassion may seem to be a rather heavy word for what is ‘just taiko’ but for me, the Charter for

Compassion can be easily applied to the taiko community. We need accurate and respectful

information to be shared, treating all others the way we wish to be treated, dethroning ourselves

from the centre of our world and treating everybody, without exception, with absolute justice,

equity and respect. It is a privilege to be in a position to be creating something artful, to have the

freedom to be and do as we wish, and we have a responsibility as a community to make that the

best community we can. I wish for us to more frequently to say “This is my way. What is your way?”

The rhythms and reason that we play might separate taiko players, but the fact that we all play is

what binds us from the core.

70

Looking Ahead

What I set out to achieve was a bold task, and one that I would revise if I were to have my time

again. However, the breadth of experience I gained from this venture is valuable in many ways. I

could have studied in one style and become greatly skilled in it, ready to perform and teach and

attain a high level. But I would have sacrificed the huge span I reached, and looking to the future of

taiko in the UK, to what will inform and nurture me as a taiko leader in the UK – I wouldn’t change it

for anything. There is so much to take forward; much of which has already started, and has taken on

a life far bigger than I had envisaged.

To promote ergonomic taiko playing and kata based taiko in the UK where this is currently not

strong characteristic of UK taiko – to be seen in performances by UK taiko groups

Within my teaching and performing work I will continue to encourage movement’s symbiotic

relationship with taiko music. Having developed my critical eye with PJ Hirabayashi I am more

equipped when teaching to detect movement that might not be mindful of the body’s health and

comfort. In sharing Kenny Endo’s drills and concepts of the importance of language and rhythm and

the idea that the body is as much the instrument as the drum as promoted by PJ Hirabayashi and

others, I aspire to implement ergonomic taiko playing through a better understanding of the

connections within the elements of taiko. I also encourage groups to play pieces that they have

understood internally, from the outset rather than viewing something and copying it externally. To

play Miyake or Yodan Uchi convincingly is to understand not only the rhythms but why the

movement is as it is. Promoting this level of understanding will prevent injuries received from taiko

playing that does not care for the body and encourage more convincing, authentic movement within

taiko groups.

To embrace the opportunity of learning from pioneers in worldwide taiko history whilst they are

still in this world, so I can pass on knowledge and skills with integrity

I was lucky enough to meet many taiko pioneers on my travels who were good enough to trust me

with conversation and practical skills that I can use and share whilst I work.

To encourage the celebration of taiko’s diversity and opportunity for innovation as well as

tradition – this will be seen in performances at UK taiko festival and cultures of taiko groups

around the UK

The UK Taiko Festival is a fantastic platform for the celebration of diversity that I hope to see

continue to grow as the years go on. In sharing what I have learned, through workshops, regular

classes and talks, I hope to give accurate information about other styles, groups, and ways of playing

taiko that will keep open the flow of conversation about other ways of doing things. To dispel the

myth that there is a right way or wrong way of doing something would be success and one that I am

in pursuit of within my life as a UK taiko player. Instead of saying “this is the right way”, let us say

“this is my way: what is our way?” Implementing this will be in the way I do everything. Kagemusha

Taiko has always taught me to say “this is just the way we do things”, the UK Taiko festival actively

looks to place different taiko styles on stage together and showcase diverse international taiko

71

groups, and I can continue to assist Kagemusha Taiko with this. To continue with this message

throughout our work will be a step towards encouraging and celebrating diversity.

To encourage innovation as well as tradition is a balance that is within celebrating diversity. To

celebrate taiko styles in the UK that have come from preservation groups in Japan, to share

traditional methods or styles of playing that I have learned wherever I can, and to share the

wonderful innovative, ever changing spirit of taiko that I have seen will be a way to ensure that both

tradition and innovation are respected and valued.

Hearing stories of difficulties between groups at times from two sides of the same issues has shown

me the importance of compassion, and the importance for the celebration of diversity rather than

the power of division. When PJ Hirabayashi visited in November 2012 as a direct result of my

travels, it was important for me to not follow stories I heard in Hawaii of taiko teachers being flown

into the state to run workshops and not being ‘shared’ with other groups. There is no sense in the

fear-based mentality that says in order to succeed I must stay one step ahead of someone else, have

something that they do not have. I wanted to offer the opportunity for other groups to experience

her teachings. If only so that that other group would then understand more about Kagemusha Taiko

as Jonathan’s training came from this place, understand more about North American taiko when

some groups only look to Japan for inspiration. Taiko Meantime in London embraced this

opportunity and talk still of the workshop – logistics didn’t allow for others to be booked, but I like to

think that the door was opened a little wider on this. If we understand where we are all coming

from, we have greater reason to celebrate.

To learn about taiko as a community builder and promote compassion as a way of taiko and a way

of life through an initiative called ‘TaikoPeace’, initiated by PJ Hirabayashi.

Through my many experiences of taiko within the community, I can talk with confidence about taiko

as a tool for building communities. Having seen taiko in festivals, shrines, schools, competitions,

rural Japanese communities, experienced taiko as a way of empowering discriminated groups,

celebrating Japanese American, Okinawan, Oedo, Japanese Hawaiian identities, heard stories of and

seen taiko bringing people together through earthquakes and tsunamis, I can vouch for its power to

empower groups of people; communities.

I feel very strongly that the UK Taiko Festival will continue to grow, to nourish and nurture taiko

players not just in the UK but in Europe, and continue to be a source of inspiration, celebration,

connection and community for all who experience it, as a player or audience member. I also feel

that in order to do this, to be able to answer the needs of the quickly evolving taiko community, the

UK Taiko Festival will thrive if opened to a wider steering group. The huge reward of organising this

event is matched by the effort invested into its planning, and to share this, to open the opportunity

for others to contribute their values, their energy and enthusiasm would deeply benefit all involved,

and most importantly ensure the success of this wonderful event. Taking notice of both the North

American Taiko Conference and the Nippon Taiko Federation’s competitive events in Japan, we in

the UK can learn from our predecessors and consciously chose our own future as a community. This

cannot be done by one group alone. How do we encourage others to get involved? It’s difficult to

get together, yet we do have excellent technology to help us network, plan and discuss ideas.

72

TaikoPeace has already spread to the UK as a direct result of the Fellowship. In November 2012 PJ

Hirabayashi and Pear Urushima visited The Taiko Centre, Seale Hayne to run a weekend workshop;

TaikoPeace UK. With participants from Wales, Hertfordshire, North East Lincolnshire, Nottingham

and Devon, the workshop was a great success with ripples of other workshops and initiatives already

beginning to grow.

Following PJ Hirabayashi’s visit that included an introduction to the piece ‘Ei Ja Nai Ka?’, I am now

offering UK taiko groups the chance to learn this piece as a way of coming together to celebrate in

taiko song and dance at the next UK Taiko Festival. This will encourage a sense of empowerment

within the taiko players of the UK – to see that they are not just divided by their geography, or group

name – that they can share together the joy of playing beyond these boundaries and see their

commonalities.

To gain greater confidence & skill in teaching taiko so that I can begin to branch out and reach a

wider audience of all ages and abilities in order to promote confidence, personal responsibility and

power in others. To gain greater confidence & skill in performing taiko onstage throughout the UK

in order to inspire others through performance.

What I have gained from my travels has already been and will continue to be implemented in my

every day work through teaching and performance. I am a better informed, more genuine teacher

and performer already, and now have more tools in order to continue my development in time to

come. The regular workshops and classes I either lead or assist in teaching are already strengthened

by everything I have seen and experienced.

There are new techniques, rhythms, pieces that I can share with Kagemusha Taiko and others

throughout the UK so that we can explore together the benefits of what I have learned. To be able

to bring something new to the table and to share it freely will be a first for me, and will enable the

practical skills the Fellowship has given me to live on and grow in a new environment.

It is clear that I must continue to improve my taiko playing, not only by continuing to take other

taiko classes and workshops whenever they are available, to keep the flow of learning going, but to

motivate the current myself in personal practice. I am one of very few lucky enough to have a place

in which to do that, in The Taiko Centre, Seale Hayne where I work, and in encouraging this practice

in myself I also hope to encourage it in others.

To strengthen UK connections with other taiko groups throughout the world

There have been many connections made, and many of those will be maintained in the years ahead.

Already, PJ Hirabayashi and Pear Urushima have visited and run workshops for UK taiko players as a

direct result. Amanojaku are now booked as headliners for the 9th

UK Taiko Festival and able to run

workshops and two performances in The Exeter Northcott Theatre as a result of PJ & Roy telling me

to contact Chris Holland and arrange workshops in Tokyo. Fumio Oikawa and his wife are travelling

over from Sendai to perform in the 9th

UK Taiko Festival, and have invited Kagemusha Taiko to return

to Japan in October to perform as their guests in a concert hall in Sendai. I have already travelled to

New York city to stay with Joan Froelich and taught a Kagemusha Junior Taiko song to Bergenfield

High School Taiko Club, New Jersey where I also connected with Peter Brown again. I have had

conversations with Tony Jones about Zenshin Daiko coming to England to be part of the UK Taiko

Festival one year. I have been offered a home in Oahu by Hawaii Matsuri Taiko for up to three

73

months if I ever want to return and study with Hawaii Matsuri Taiko and Somei Taiko. I am travelling

the UK sharing ‘Ei Ja Nai Ka?’ and PJ Hirabayashi’s story of TaikoPeace with many UK groups who

would perhaps have never considered North America when thinking of taiko. Ursula Frank, from

Taiko Minydd Du, Wales, is about to travel to San Jose Taiko to make the connection stronger as a

result of TaikoPeace UK. The connections had been made before me by Jonathan Kirby - without

whom I would not know what taiko is, or have ever connected with PJ & Roy Hirabayashi – and I

have gone out to make them for myself. There is another generation of taiko players out there.

Talking with Wisa Uemura and Franco Imperial and the San Jose Taiko staff and performing

members has been so important to me – I want to take responsibility for what I am going to be doing

for the years ahead, and cannot rely on everything coming from one person, one teacher anymore.

We have bigger work to do, and the connections, our roots, need to be as strong as ever if we are to

grow tall here in the UK. The pulse of UK Taiko is strong, and for me, will beat ever stronger due to

the friendships I have made in the global taiko community.

‘Ei Ja Nai Ka?’ performed by San Jose Taiko and Kagemusha Taiko at Exeter Northcott, UK 2012

74

Further Findings

From my travels around the world I am only encouraged that the potential of taiko is only starting to

be realized. Throughout the world, taiko shows signs of growth and it is an exciting time to be

involved with its future. There are pockets where people are putting taiko to good use within groups

of vulnerable and disadvantaged people. Taiko is used to empower minority groups, enhance

communities and strengthen identity; taiko everywhere is making a huge impact on people’s lives.

My recent work with Kagemusha Taiko has led me to discover the power of taiko when shared with

people living with mental, physical, emotional and economic disadvantages, and I have become

passionate about promoting taiko without prejudice. Wherever I go I hear people realizing and

remarking on the power of taiko to unite and empower people. I was present when a man with no

hearing asked to stand in the wings of the stage whilst Kagemusha Taiko played their set. He told us

that it was the first time since he lost his hearing that he had been able to connect with music – he

could see and feel it. Many groups around the world formed to express themselves in the face of

sociological discrimination. I have met people who have overcome the significant logistical

limitations of taiko to use it in their work as music therapists. Projects exploring taiko’s positive

results with autism are beginning to gain momentum. Kagemusha Taiko has recently been awarded

a grant to develop their programme of work to include children in circumstances, living with autism,

Down’s Syndrome and complex behavioral, mental and physical special needs. I have had meetings

with Marie Curie directors who realize the positive effect taiko could have with cancer patients and

their families. I know of people taking taiko into prisons. Kagemusha Taiko has worked successfully

with young men on borderline exclusion from school. I am currently designing a plan to work with a

group of young women with confidence and other social issues, where the Director of a Youth

Centre instantly saw the potential positive impact of taiko.

I have never been more convinced of taiko’s ability to transform individuals and communities. In all

my travels and meeting hundreds of taiko players from established groups, I met only one person

playing taiko from a wheelchair. Taiko in the UK has had a strong start, and I am excited to be in this

country at this time. Having explored the roots of taiko I know it will continue to thrive in the UK as

it does worldwide. I have heard too many stories of people spending their time and energy learning

this wonderful art form and being told off for being too enthusiastic – for practicing with others, for

wanting to learn from others. I have sat with amongst egos arguing about who was first to do

something, who is the only group doing something, scrappily fighting over a particular claim to fame,

trying to re-write history to make themselves appear somehow better because they were first. Fear

of competition has led to reveal passive aggressive behavior and too many groups have allowed

small details to come between them; I know that this has even led to families splitting. Whether we

learned in the UK, have roots to Japan, North America; whether we call someone Sensei, practice in

a dojo, count in English or Japanese; whether we play traditional material or invite cultural fusion to

the taiko stage; whether we are sixteen or sixty, male or female; able-bodied or live with physical

limitations; whether we have had a privileged education or not: whatever personal battles we are

fighting, taiko can unite us and be part of our lives. As people arrive on the ‘taiko scene’ what are

they seeing? Do they see a thriving art form with diversities respected and commonalities

celebrated or do they see individuals staking out their territories? As times change and more people

75

embrace taiko into their lives, taiko will change. If we want there to be roles for professional taiko

players in the future, we need to be more open, to welcome all, to find ways of overcoming every

problem that arises. When I listen I hear the pulse of taiko in the UK getting steadily louder. And I

am passionate about encouraging taiko players to stand strong and embrace the idea of taiko

beyond all discrimination.

I would encourage people to read The Charter of Compassion and think how it can be applied to

taiko:

Charter for Compassion

The principle of compassion lies at the heart of all religious, ethical and spiritual traditions, calling us

always to treat all others as we wish to be treated ourselves. Compassion impels us to work tirelessly

to alleviate the suffering of our fellow creatures, to dethrone ourselves from the centre of our world

and put another there, and to honour the inviolable sanctity of every single human being, treating

everybody, without exception, with absolute justice, equity and respect.

It is also necessary in both public and private life to refrain consistently and empathically from

inflicting pain. To act or speak violently out of spite, chauvinism, or self-interest, to impoverish,

exploit or deny basic rights to anybody, and to incite hatred by denigrating others—even our

enemies—is a denial of our common humanity. We acknowledge that we have failed to live

compassionately and that some have even increased the sum of human misery in the name of

religion.

We therefore call upon all men and women ~ to restore compassion to the centre of morality and

religion ~ to return to the ancient principle that any interpretation of scripture that breeds violence,

hatred or disdain is illegitimate ~ to ensure that youth are given accurate and respectful information

about other traditions, religions and cultures ~ to encourage a positive appreciation of cultural and

religious diversity ~ to cultivate an informed empathy with the suffering of all human beings—even

those regarded as enemies.

We urgently need to make compassion a clear, luminous and dynamic force in our polarized world.

Rooted in a principled determination to transcend selfishness, compassion can break down political,

dogmatic, ideological and religious boundaries. Born of our deep interdependence, compassion is

essential to human relationships and to a fulfilled humanity. It is the path to enlightenment, and

indispensable to the creation of a just economy and a peaceful global community.

http://charterforcompassion.org/share/the-charter/

76

The Winston Churchill Memorial Trust’s Travelling Fellowship

“Travel to make a difference”

The Winston Churchill Memorial Trust award Travelling Fellowships to British citizens from all walks

of life to travel overseas, to bring back knowledge and best practice for the benefit of others in their

UK professions and communities.

What is the purpose of a Churchill Travelling Fellowship?

To widen an individual`s experience in such a way that he or she grows in confidence, knowledge,

authority and ambition. To bring benefit to others in the UK through sharing the results of the

experience. This is achieved through:

• the inspiration provided by the individual’s example – his or her subsequent performance

and achievements

• the dissemination and application of new knowledge, different perspectives and innovative

solutions

What is the Trust’s objective for Churchill Travelling Fellowships?

The Trust’s objective for the Travelling Fellowships is to provide opportunities for British citizens to

go abroad on a worthwhile enterprise of their own choosing, with the aim of enriching their lives by

their wider experience – through the knowledge, understanding, and/or skills they gain – and, on

their return, enhancing the life of their community by their example and the dissemination of the

benefit of their travels. These opportunities are provided to people of any age, gender, ethnicity or

religion, with or without educational qualifications, and in any occupation or none.

Who are we?

The Winston Churchill Memorial Trust was established when Sir Winston Churchill died in 1965.

Thousands of people, out of respect for the man and in gratitude for his inspired leadership, gave

generously so that a living memorial to the great man could benefit future generations of British

people. This fund now supports 100 Travelling Fellowships and ten Bursaries at Churchill College

Cambridge, each year.

“The advancement and propagation of education in any part of the world for the benefit of British

citizens of all walks of life in such exclusively charitable manner that such education will make its

recipients more effective in their life and work, whilst benefiting themselves and their

communities, and ultimately the UK as a whole”.

www.wcmt.org.uk