A few weeks ago, I decided it was finally time to try something new that I'd been longing to try for a long time: taiko.
If you've never seen taiko, it will probably be hard for you to imagine it. People stand with their drums in something like the Goddess Pose. They hold thick drumsticks and work together in rhythm while they beat out rhythms, and occasionally someone who looks like a leader shouts out staccato notes.
I've never been a drummer in all my years of band. In fact, I would say that rhythm is often one of my weakest musical areas. In spite of that, I have always been drawn to drumlines. The cadence the drumline played between sets was my favorite part of our marching band competitions. Whenever I hear drums at some event, I feel a magnetic pull to go listen and stand for long periods of time, watching and listening in fascination. I longed to feel that resonance as I worked together in a group of others.
Taiko was especially appealing to me because the groups I watched included many smaller women in wide, powerful stances, making all of that noise with broad smiles. It felt like a place that I might belong.
Because I'd first seen taiko at their annual Bon Odori festival, I knew that the Tacoma Buddhist Temple occasionally held drumming sessions. I finally worked up the courage to reach out to the leader of the Issho Open Taiko program. Wendy was wonderfully welcoming and I set aside a Saturday morning to join her and learn something more about taiko.
Here's a local taiko group I recorded in May of 2018 at the Washington State History Museum at an event commemorating Executive Order 9066. This was long before I worked up the courage to think about trying it. Wendy is the one in the back playing the drum set on the tall frame with Fuji Taiko, another group that does performances.
One other brand new student learned with me at the temple. Wendy took us through a short history of taiko and how it evolved before showing us the basics of how to hold the bachi, or wide drumsticks. She showed us the different sizes of the drums and the different stands sometimes used for the instruments. She described what had drawn her into the art and then showed us the notation system often used to express the different patterns.
Each syllable in the system has a different meaning that tells the drummer to use her right hand, her left hand, and whether or not to hit the center or rim of the drum, for example. I loved the way I could chant the syllables in my head to help me memorize the rhythms.
A few days after this small and incredible experience, I was talking to a friend about the hectic feeling of the holidays. At the time, I was deep into Thanksgiving week. My older son was visiting us from Colorado and staying in our home. My younger son had an offbeat schedule with his junior high going on break. My husband had signed up to work overtime but we weren't sure if he'd get it or not. My own work had more celebrations than usual, interruptions in the AWAY classes, and a big project that I needed to complete.
On top of all that, it was Thanksgiving week with food to prepare. We had extra shopping and planning in front of us. All of our rhythms were off.
I found myself talking to my friend about how out of sorts I often feel around the holidays and also telling her about taiko with all of its incredible rhythms. That's when I realized that holiday schedules are chock-full of syncopation.
If you haven't heard of syncopation, it's a musical term that describes the way musicians sometimes emphasize notes on the off or weak beat instead of the expected downbeat. You can hear it very clearly in Elton John's piano playing for "Bennie and the Jets." He regularly switches from notes on the downbeats to notes on the upbeat. It gives the whole song a very jazzy and jumpy feeling.
During the holidays, things happen at times when they normally do not. I see people that I normally do not and buy things out of my normal patterns. I eat unusual foods at unusual times in unusual places. The rhythms of this month are much like "Bennie and the Jets." Exciting and also exhausting with all of their unexpected and irregular notes.
It gave me a strange sort of peace to make that analogy. Perhaps it's because I love music that the idea of a syncopated holiday rhythm appeals to me so much. It's a way for me to name the offbeat holiday happenings and accept them as another style of living that's somewhat like another style of music.
In any case, I loved my first taiko class and will definitely go back this month. Like much of my art, I have no aspirations to become Great. I play for the joy of it and I'm grateful to find a group that will help me practice with that Beginner's Mind--one that is open to possibilities. Even the possibility that I can approach the holidays in a new way because of an inspiration I found from stretching myself once more.
Taiko style drumming definitely helped me with the offbeat holidays. Â
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