Shakuhachi Articles

by Alcvin Ramos

The Meaninglessness of Zen in Shakuhachi: Suizen and Honkyoku

According to the fundamental experience of Zen the aspect of shakuhachi (Japanese vertical 5-holed bamboo flute) in relation to Zen is meaninglessness, but the playing of Honkyoku occupies a unique position in religious world music. Sui-zen (blowing zen, or blowing meditation) is the practice of playing the shakuhachi bamboo flute as a means of attaining self-realization. The monks of old Japan who practiced suizen were called Komuso, or Monks of Nothingness and Emptiness (Ko: emptiness, mu: nothingness, so: monk or priest). These monks belonged to a Rinzai Zen Buddhist sect called Fuke-shu, named after the legendary Tang Dynasty Chinese monk who first used a bamboo flute as a meditation tool. The pieces on which suizen are based are called Honkyoku, or original pieces and were basically solo, with a few exceptions. In playing honkyoku the state of mind was the most essential element, rather than musical enjoyment, therefore it wasn't music per se. Indeed, it was prohibited for Komuso to play with O-koto (horizontal harp) and Shamisen (three-stringed banjo-like instrument) in those days. The monks blew shakuhachi for their own enlightenment not for entertainment. However, since Zen Buddhism puts no accent in devotion to a deity or god, their music contains no sense of praise of faith. This is what is so unique about suizen as opposed to other religious musics. Today, honkyoku has evolved (some say devolved) into music which is both profound and beautiful in its expression.

Very few people today actually understand or practice suizen in its true form. But honkyoku has turned out to be one of the most popular forms of music in the contemporary music scene today (in and out of Japan). There are various reasons for this. Many who have passed down the traditional honkyoku in modern times were not professional Shakuhachi players insisting on keeping the practice of suizen by playing only Honkyoku. Since these were mostly intellectuals isolated from the central musical scene in modern Japan where radical westernization took place, they concentrated on nurturing the spiritual side of Honkyoku. But it was only a matter of time until western musical ideas affected honkyoku as well, which ironically was important to its survival. New forms of Honkyoku began to appear which were much more dynamic and lively but still based on the original ideal of suizen. Hideo Sekino said, "When we conceive The Art as the underlying spiritual representation of the ancient legend of the Komuso, the modern creation of Honkyoku might have been the very effort to revive the dying legend from the overwhelming westernization in modern Japan."

Shakuhachi and Bushido

After the death of Hideyori Toyotomi ca.1610 the Tokugawa family came under control ushering Japan into the Edo period, an unprecedented stretch of peace which lasted 250 years. This was the golden age of the Shakuhachi and other Japanese arts which enjoyed support from the government, forming the base of today's "traditional Japan". During this time, the Shakuhachi underwent a transformation from a 6-holed, thin piece of bamboo, to the 5-holed, root-ended bamboo flute that is most common today. Many samurai at that time who's masters were defeated by Tokugawa were forbidden to carry swords and were left homeless. These were the "ronin" (masterless samurai), many of whom joined the ranks of the Komuso monks for spiritual focus as well as a chance to carry a weapon again, namely, the club-like Shakuhachi. Earlier, this sect of monks (formerly known as Komoso, straw mat monks) attracted various riff-raff and beggars; but since the establishment of the Fuke-shu with its strict code of discipline (and support from the Tokugawa government), membership became exclusive to only those with samurai ranking, and the use of Shakuhachi was limited to only the Komuso. They travelled from place to place on pilgrimages to the various Komuso temples throughout Japan, playing their Shakuhachi for alms and meditation, concealed from the outer world by a large basket-like hat (tengai) that completely covered their faces. They were given special passes by the government which allowed them free access across any border in Japan and on boats across bodies of water. Consequently, many Komuso were used by the government as spies.

The influence of Zen on the spiritual and aesthetic landscape of Japan was profound. Zen which simply means "meditation" (from the Chinese 'ch'an' and Sanskrit 'dhyana') appealed to the intellectual, ruling class, therefore was supported and permeated just about every art form at the time. From Zen came the ideas of spiritual selflessness and concentration of the mind. In the Samurai tradition of Bushido (Warrior Way) one dedicated his entire life to the protection and well-being of his master and was trained in such a way as to merge totally with one's weapon (e.g. the sword) as well as the environment and the opponent so as to have victory over him. When the samurai's swords were confiscated by the Tokugawa Shogunate, the Ronin found it very easy to fit into the Komuso way since the concentration needed to learn Shakuhachi was similar to their sword training, and, the shape of the Edo period Shakuhachi resembled a hand held weapon, and no doubt was used as one as well! In the daily life of the Komuso monks, the day included morning zazen (sitting zen), suizen, begging, and martial arts training. In the rural Aomori district of northern Tohoku, Japan, one of the most famous schools was the Kimpu School (Nezasa-ha) which developed a unique technique of breathing called "komi-buki" or "concentrated" or "packed breath", where an intentional steady, pulse-rhythm is created while blowing the Shakuhachi by contracting and relaxing the diaphragm. It is said that it came about when after the Komuso Monks finished a hard training in their martial arts, which included jiujutsu (soft technique) and kenpo (sword play) they would play their shakuhachi immediately afterwards, and the pulsing sound would be from their shallow breath and fast beating hearts. A lesser known fact was shakuhachi's connection with the Shogun's Ninja (surveillance/assassin) force, a subject which deserves more research. One famous Ninja named Sugawara Yoshiteru who became a komuso first in Kyoto and then in Edo often dedicated his performances to the Tokugawa Daimyo. Due to his skills as a Ninja, Sugawara became something of a small daimyo himself. He was permitted to build his own temple in Niigata, which became Echigomeianji. He composed the piece Echigomeian-hachigaeshi.

Perhaps the most significant 20th century honkyoku persona was Watazumi-do So who combined a martial arts-like physical regimen complete with detailed breath excercises with Shakuhachi practice. His disciple, Yokoyama Katsuya is one of the most important professional shakuhachi players focussing on transmission of Honkyoku today.

During the Meiji Reformation, the Fuke-shu of Komuso was abolished and many secret characteristics of this group were lost. Because of this historical loss we'll never know entirely the reality of the Komuso. However, their instrument, the Shakuhachi has survived the westernization policy of the Meiji government. It's use as a religious instrument (hoki) is now a musical one (gakki) utilizing western musical scale as well as Japanese, and played in ensembles, a practice which was previously prohibited.

Today, in our post-modern age, shakuhachi music is appearing to those hemmed in by their material world. There is a renewed interest in a wholistic approach to playing shakuhachi where mind, body, and spirit are developed along with musical ability. People like Riley Lee in Australia give breath and honkyoku workshops all around the world and seek to integrate the whole person with one's environment and playing, just as the Komuso of old did. Many contemporary musicians are looking back at and discovering the beauty and enormous expression of traditional instruments, and the traditional style of playing Shakuhachi. Shakuhachi music uses many notes which do not fall within the standard western musical temperment. It makes active use of "non-musical" sounds or noise such as blowing, windy sounds, simulated animal sounds, as well as no sound, or the slience between the notes (ma), which is a very important element in performance and symbolizes emptiness, selfnessness, the basis of the life motto of the Komuso "Coming from nowhere, going to nowhere like the wind". It also expresses that all things are related in this intricate web of change we call life.

TWO SCHOOLS OF SHAKUHACHI: KINKO and TOZAN

The following descriptions are only a cursory look into these two schools of shakuhachi. The lineages of these two schools is extremely complex. So I will only touch on some basic information and a few key figures. For a more extensive and complete study, please refer to Adreas Gutzwiller's dissertation on the Kinko Ryu, Christopher Yohmei Blasdel's book, Shakuhachi: A Manual For Learning, and Riley Lee's Phd. dissertation on transmission of honkyoku.

Kinko-Ryu

Kurosawa Kinko (1710-1771) , founder of the Kinko style of shakuhachi, was a komuso monk born into a samurai family. He was responsible for taking the honkyoku of the past, which was concerned mainly with meditation, and adding a higher degree of musicality to it. He travelled all over Japan and collected 33 honkyoku pieces, which now make up the core of the Kinko style of shakuhachi. He also improved the instrument, perhaps improving the bore structure to access certain tones easier. It wasn't until the second generation of the Kinko family that the delineation of a Kinko style was recognized since there were no styles of shakuhachi during his time.

During the Meiji restoration (1871) the sect of shakuhachi monks (Fuke-shu) was banned by the government. It's use as a ritual tool was outlawed, but musically, it was enjoying great popularity among the secular classes, being used in ensemble with koto and shamisen (sankyoku). However, the shakuhachi was in serious threat of becoming obsolete, so the two men responsible for taking shakuhachi into the modern world were, Yoshida Itcho and Araki Kodo of the Kinko style. They persuaded the government to let anyone play shakuhachi as a musical instrument, thus making it accessible to everyone. It was through their efforts that the musical popularity of the shakuhachi spread after it was outlawed as a religious tool. One of Araki Kodo's most significant accomplishments was the development of a system of notation for the music of the shakuhachi utilizing the katagana script, which is read vetically (up to down, and right to left). Also, a system of dots and lines was created to indicate rhythm and tempo when gaikyoku (outside pieces) were played. Three generations later, the disciple of Kodo II, Junsuke Kawase I (1870-1957) improved on the the notation even more making it easier to read and more accessible to the public. He organized the Chikuyu Sha shakuhahchi organization which became the largest organization within the Kinko style and has membership throughout the country and the world. It is his music which became the standard for all Kinko players.

Tozan

Nakao Tozan (1876-1956), founder of the Tozan style of shakuhachi, was born in Osaka. He came from a musical family, his mother being a daughter of a famous shamisen master, Terauchi Daikengyo of Kyoto. He learned how to play shamisen as a child and learned how to play shakuhachi on his own. When he was in his late teens he joined the Myoan Society of shakuhachi monks and developed technique with them. In his early 20's he opened up his first shakuhachi studio in Osaka. This was the beginning of the Tozan style. In 1904 he began composing pieces for the shakuhachi which later became the honkyoku of the Tozan style. He was very knowlegeable about western music, creating new performance and teaching methods, and revising the music for shakuhachi. Consequently, he was very successful at popularizing the shakuhachi, attracting a large following, especially among the youth of Kansai. He moved the Tokyo in 1922 and collaborated with the famous koto composer, Miyagi Michiyo; but Kansai still remains the center of the Tozan school.

Comparison between Kinko and Tozan styles

Unlike the Tozan school, the Kinko style has no central organization (iemoto). (See Dan Ribble's comment on the iemoto system). This has allowed the Kinko style to enjoy more diversification and freedom of expression. Students of the Kinko style who were proficient enough usually broke off and formed their own sects and created their own gaikyoku and notation styles (but was usually based on the original script of Araki Kodo I). Both styles however emphasize musicality rather than suizen (blowing meditation). Both place high emphasis on gaikyoku training, especially playing with an ensemble of jiuta shamisen and Ikuta style koto. Furthermore, both styles have always had a positive attitude towards new music and are active in the contemporary music scene.

PLAYING TECHNIQUES:

RO-buki and Practicing Long Tones for the Shakuhachi

RO is the first note on a shakuhachi, with all finger holes closed. "Buki" is the Japanese verb stem from "fuku", which means "to blow". Therefore "RO-buki" means "to blow RO", without meri (flat) or kari (sharp).

In Katsuya Yokoyama's style, the practice of RO-buki, specifically in the otsu-no-RO (lowest octave of RO) position, as the starting point of shakuhachi playing is very important. It prepares the embouchure for the demands of the music about to be undertaken. There are various forms of RO-buki that one can practice to develop blowing technique and dynamics. (Note: Using kubi-furi (vibrato with neck) or any kind of vibrato, while doing RO-buki excercise is discouraged. It's important to keep the pitch steady and straight.)

The following are some that I've learned through the years, and (can also be practiced with all the basic tones of the shakuhachi). If anyone knows anymore, please let us know!

Breathing in mostly through the nose while relaxing the body and pushing the air down into the diaphragm. Out breath is most important. If you feel your shoulders coming up, push them down and the air should go down to your diaphragm. At the end of your note push out as much air in your system as you can. This is a good area to use meditative visualization techniques like ones used in Tibetan and Taoist systems of meditation.

For dynamics I practice each note using different shapes of sound:

1. "Sasa-buki" or "Bamboo Leaf"--which is starting out as quietly as possible, then gradually getting louder and louder and gradually trailing off to nothing again.

2. "Kyosui" (Empty blowing): similar to the the kusabi-buki snakebite, but starting with a more natural breath and trailing off into nothingness as gently as possible, accenting the silence at the end.

3. "Tsuzumi" (Noh drum, which is the shape of two triangles connected at their tips--here I attack with a blast of air (e.g. muraiki) and quiet down to almost nothing and then ending on another muraiki.

4. "Snakebite" (a kind of kusabi-buki, wedge-shaped blowing)--the other side of the tsuzumi where I start with muraiki and trail off to nothing.

5. "Sankaku" (triangle)--just one side of the tsuzumi where I start out as quiet as possible and increase volume to muraiki.

6. Blowing each note as quitely as possible. This is especially challenging in the upper registers. Don't use kubi-furi (vibrato with neck) while doing long tones.

7. Practicing long tones while facing in the wind. This helps in developing control of your embrochure.

Complimentary Excercises:

If you practice each note all the way up the shakuhachi scale in each octave for 5 minutes each, that's a good hour of practice.

To get a nice, powerful, big round sound, pretend there is a ping-pong ball in your mouth while you blow. Blowing at the proper direction is important to get proper pitch. Many people develop the habit of blowing downwards so they are too flat most of the time.

Practicing shakuhachi in highly tense or adverse situations will help you become a better player such as busking in public or in winter practicing long tones waist deep in the ocean or barefoot in the snow. But make sure that you are in good physical health and to do a proper warm up before undertaking these extreme excercises.

The Big Sound and the Silent Sound

by Alcvin Ramos

I play the style taught by  and made popular by Yokoyama Katsuya. But also play jinashi, as taught by Okuda Atsuya. In the west, people refer to Yokoyama's style of honkyoku playing as "Do-kyoku", but actually, in Japan, that term is not used so much. Yokoyama actually prefers to call it just plain "honkyoku". Do-kyoku is alluding more to Watatzumi-do, his teacher in honkyoku. And as many people know, there was a friction between the two because Watatzumi-do played only jinashi flutes and considered ji-ari shakuhachi to be "too vulgar and loud", therefore criticized Yokoyama often, also because Watatzumi-do practically hated all styles where ji-ari shakuahchi were employed which included sankyoku, gaikyoku, shinkyoku, etc.

More than a particular school's playing style, it's the individual that creates a unique sound. Talking to Christopher Yohmei Blasdel, he mentioned that he was very moved at the ability of Yamaguchi Goro to play quietly (due to the fact that he played mostly within the sankyoku context), but with a power that had everyone in a hall enrapt in listening. But a big difference that other styles of playing don't do (at least from my observation so far) that Yokoyama does is that he plays with great power and big, embracing sound, yet with sensitivity and emotion. Yokoyama compares it to an actor on stage who must exaggerate his moves so that the audience can understand what's going on. So he applies this analogy to the shakuhachi especially when playing with an orchestra, like on November Steps. Most (if not all) of his accomplished students play in this way. Part of this lies in the design of the flutes, but most of it is in the way he blows and interestingly how he uses his muscular-skeletal structure. I haven't heard this kind of sound in other styles. Yokoyama's sound came from a synthesis of  his studies with Watazumi-do and his studies with the jiari shakuhachi. The question is, is this big sound desirable? I think if you learn to play this way, it opens a whole new vista for your explorations of sound with the shakuhachi. Some players play loud with a hard, tight, cutting sound, but without the open, wide sound. Others play with an open wide sound but without the power. I guess the descriptions are endless. More than just decible levels, however, playing with sensitivity and nuance of tonal colorations is getting closer to a deeper shakuhachi experience.

Making a Big Sound

How this big sound is created takes a lot of practice, and I hear from players that this is a most desirable way to play shakuhachi. (But I'm sure not all players care to play this way.) Most players are taught to blow down, perhaps blowing about 50/50 or more of their air across the edge down into their flute. But actually the aim is to get about 20% down into the flute and 80% going over the top. This style of blowing is referred to as "soto-buki", or blowing outwardly, as opposed to "uchi-buki", playing into the flute more. So, in essence, one is blowing more "kari". (Note: In the old days, "kari" was understood as the normal first position and not playing sharper while blowing upwards as we understand it today.) This is very important in creating the desired effect. A test to see if you're doing it well is to©£ blow the shakuhachi with the bell facing a lighted candle. If you can blow with maximum power without blowing the flame out, then you're doing it well. That means you're blowing over the top more than into the flute. You can also use a piece of tissue paper in front of the flute to guage how much air you're blowing through the flute. Not only do you need to blow kari, but the lips must stay relaxed and controlled. Blowing kari accomplishes two things: it allows more space between the lips and blowing edged for the air to achieve the effective impact between edge, and it allows more space between lips and edge so that access to the meri position is more easier. Hitting the meri notes perfectly is very important since most people develop the habit of blowing meri, or flat, too much into the flute. One of the list members commented to me that he was trying to blow more kari, but he felt that he was getting too much of an airy sound and overtones. I told him not to concentrate on that airy sound as a negative. It is part of the shakuhachi aesthetic. But once your embrochure becomes more developed, it is possible to blow kari, and in perfect pitch while minimizing the airy sound. But don't throw away the windy sound! The tendency is to blow closer to the edge to get rid of the airy sound. This just makes you blow more meri, thus limiting your range of motion. Also, the cavity of your mouth should be wide. Kakizakai sensei often says to imagine a ping pong ball inside your mouth, and if you're having problems with a too narrow cavity, imagine you have a basketball in there! Teeth should be slightly apart. Throat should be wide open as well, not pinched, or tight. Yamaguchi Goro also wrote in one issue of the Hogaku journal about keeping the inside of the mouth wide open was important in the production of a good sound. In addition to a controlled, developed embrochure that blows more kari, the air must be pushed from the diaphragm.

Learning to blow this way may cause you to modify your flute as well. In my experience, my 2.4 was tuned at 440 in my normal first position for my otsu no ro note. But when I started playing more kari, of course my otsu no ro (and every other note) was now much sharper. I was kind of worried at this point at what I should to. So my sensei said, " you must get your flute lengthened!" Wow. So I promptly sent it back to the maker and he lengthened my flute about an inch. The place where he cut the flute and added the extra bamboo has an attractive rattan binding. Now, this was very meaningful for me, since I've been trying to play kari for a long time, so I consider it a badge of achievement, that rattan binding. It took me a while to get used to this new way of blowing; I also did some work on the angle of the chin rest for better kari positioning, but once I could play this way with some proficiency my experience of the shakuhachi deepened considerably.

The Silent Sound

This is a topic that I think should be dicussed more in relation to shakuhachi playing. When playing hocchiku it is a much different approach than with the shakuhachi. First of all, the hocchiku lacks the technological advancement of the ji-lined shakuhachi. It is a raw bore with much more resistance for the air, therefore, a softer, more concentrated way of blowing is required to play. It is also much more difficult to control the pitch due to the irregularities of the bore. But it is possible to tune the bamboo by oneself by filing some parts of the inner area of the holes of the flute. When it is tuned in that manner as best as possible, leaving the bore as is with the bumps of the remaining nodes and waves of the bamboo wall, the control of the person playing is the final determiner of the hocchiku experience. Of course you can add a little ji and urushi to tune it and get it sounding close to a shakuhachi as well. But among hocchiku enthusiasts, rawer is better. Inlays in the utaguchi have no effect on the sound. Riley Lee mentioned earlier that it is rare to find a good jinashi flute. True, if you are a musician looking for the best instrument possible. But I don't think it is an issue when playing a hocchiku. Watazumido used to play with the most undesirable pieces of bamboo like a bamboo clothesline pole and was able to make amazing sounds come out of it. (Or maybe it was all an act, a sham, and he really did have awesome flutes!) I think developing one's body (especially the embrochure) in relation to the instrument is most important in hocchiku (and shakuhachi!). Now, to play a raw flute with a dark, subdued tone color combined with the technique of big, bright sound creates a very nice balance in playing hocchiku. But rather than the big sound, the power of the hocchiku lies in it's accent on the still, silent, and often complex sound which is consciously (or unconsciously) achieved when you have control of your embrochure and body. Listening to the flute in a small, intimate space is a subtly intense and beautiful experience. Furthermore, I find that hocchiku and shakuhachi are symbiotically connected in that playing one enhances the other.

I think playing with good pitch is important when playing the hocchiku. It's not like the shakuhachi where you can hit each note on pitch every time in the same position (at least for most well-tuned shakuhachi), so to control this wild creature is the challenge. In my experience, I find that in playing the hocchiku (even more than the shakuhachi with ji) the changes of the bamboo and/or my body from one day to the next are much more perceptible.

But even if you play hocchiku off pitch, and in a simple manner, even if you barely get a sound out of it, but play from your heart, it still moves me greatly to experience that. Not everyone can reach the heights of greatness. To be yourself simple, and unadorned is true beauty. This is what it's all about. The real heart of shakuhachi. One of my pipe dreams (pun intended!) is to get a chance to hear everyone in the world (of all levels) who plays hocchiku or shakuhachi.

Katsuya Yokoyama Lecture at Mejiro

Last Saturday I attended Yokoyama-sensei's lecture at the new Mejiro location in Shinjukju, Tokyo. It was quite a wonderful experience. The tail end of monsoon season has been blessed with rainless, albeit very hot days, but with low humidity. The creeping vines on a wall like veins screaming for hydration. Signs of a drought this summer. I arrived at Mejiro a few hours early to browse around the new store and to catch up with Saori-san. Mejiro now has three floors; the bottom for shakuhachi and other Japanese musical goods and the second and third floors for lectures and workshops. It's conveniently located on the main street 3 minutes from Meijiro station on the Yamanote Line.

Yokoyama-sensei's recordings and written materials were on display. I was surprised to see that he already wrote his autobiography and published it in 1994. In it were pictures of him from when he was a baby all the way through past his prime. I was used to seeing his figure as kind of Buddha-like, round and full. So seeing his earlier photos of when he was a young man, slim and tall, was interesting and touching.

Around 5:00 a white car pulled up in front of the store and Shacho-san, the owner of Mejiro stepped out around the car. He opened the passenger door and helped Yokoyama-sensei out. Yokoyama-sensei appeared to be in good spirits, but I was very surprised to see how much weight he lost since I last saw him. The grey suit he wore seemed to be too big for him. Reminded me of that over-sized suit David Byrne wore in one of the earlier Talking Head videos. Kakizakai-sensei said it was due to all the medications he's been taking for his stroke. Although he was obviously aged and weakened, he looked strangely youthful, like the pictures in his biography. He walked gingerly with a cane as Shacho-san guided him up the stairs to the lecture hall.

Kakizakai-sensei, Furuya, and Matama-san arrived soon after and we all went up to take our seats. I met Peter Hill there, who recently came to Japan from the States to study shakuhachi with Kakizakai-sensei. Also an Irish fellow by the name of Philip Horan who came all the way from Hiroshima to see the lecture. He's a Tozan player and also studying how to make shakuahchi.

At 5:30 Shacho-san opened the event and introduced Yokoyama-sensei who slowly walked up on the small stage and sat down behind the table. The atmosphere in the room was one of solemn respect and courtesy for this living legend of shakuhachi. He thanked everyone for coming and then made a joke about something that immediately lightened up the room and set everyone at ease. He then proceeded to lecture for the next 2 hours, ad-libbing all the way through. I will give you a brief summary of the main themes touched upon in Yokoyama-sensei's lecture.

He first explained his history with shakuhachi starting with with his father, Yokoyama Rampo then with Watazumi-do and Fukuda Rando. From Watazumi-do he learned honkyoku and playing with power. He said that Watazumi-do was such a strict teacher. Even though Yokoyama had little money at the time, Watazumi-do demanded much money from him for lessons. It took much pleading from the young Yokoyama to get Watazumi-do to teach him San-an, and even then it took him three and a half years to learn it! Fukuda Rando was much more kind and generous and he learned to express romanticism with shakuhachi from him.

Meri is one of the key sonic features of shakuhachi music which can only be played with a five-holed shakuhachi. 7-holed shakuhachi is just like playing a western flute and takes the charm of meri away when it is played. Furuya sensei was the first one to take the stage with Yokoyama sensei. He demonstrated good meri technique sliding all the way up the scale without breaks.

Otsu no RO is the most important note. By developing a good RO through daily practice, you can acquire many good techniques. He said if you practice RO buki properly10 minutes a day, you can become a great shakuhachi master. (Then he pointed to his three students and said, "Even though they're professionals, they can't do a proper RO!") He had everyone take out their flutes and do RO-buki together then had everyone play ro individually. Then he suddenly asked Kakizakai-sensei to come up on stage and play "San-an". With no preparation, he played it beautifully, moving everyone in the room.

Singing is important in training your ear for playing shakuhachi. If you can sing a honkyoku you can play it. It also helps in memorizing the piece. If you can't sing it you probably can't play it.

To develop improvisation technique, he suggests playing along with music on the radio.

Express yourself in one note. If God asks you, "Let me listen to one note," how would you play it?

As a finale performance, Furuya, Kakizakai, and Matama-san played the Fukuda Rando piece, "Seki no Akikaze". Magnificent, to say the least!

Towards the end of his lecture, Yokoyama-sensei told us about his stroke. In Germany, two years ago he was performing a solo honkyoku piece when suddenly it hit him from nowhere and he stopped playing. He apologized to the German audience for he couldn't continue to play. He was rushed to the hospital where he was immediately put in traction. He could barely move the right side of his body and couldn't speak properly. Through several rigorous months of physical and medicinal therapy, he has regained the ability to speak and walk again. Unfortunately, he will never play shakuhachi like he once used to. But I was deeply moved that despite his withered physical condition, he still retained an irrepressible, open spirit full of humor and love of life and people which shone bright in his eyes, voice, and gesture. After the lecture I asked him to sign one of his CDs for me and gave him a big hug of gratitude for giving me such joy and great inspiration on my shakuhachi path. I pray for his well being and happiness always.

The Yin and Yang of the Bamboo Shakuhachi

The modern shakuhachi is now typically used for folk ballads or as part of a duo, trio or ensemble. Skilled craftsman have transformed the simple instrument, carving and lacquering the inside to create the modern shakuhachi. During the process of manufacturing the modern shakuhachi, the bamboo is cut into two pieces, and the inside of the bamboo is smoothed and coated with plaster and lacquer. This is called jiari-nkatsugi shakuhachi, which is now the standard for all modern Shakuhachi. The resulting sound is one that is bright and powerful, more yang, if you will. These shakuhachi have a tonal quality and pitch that can closely match those of other western musical instruments.

Shakuhachi used for solo playing in the Fuke tradition are referred to as hocchiku, from the eccentric virtuoso master, Watazumi-do who died in 1992. Hocchiku are also known as jinashi-nobekan, which means "one piece flutes without ji-lacquer". They are also simply referred to as jinashi. Other names which have been used are: takeh, which literally means "bamboo", and kyotaku, which translates as "bell which isn't". Importance is given to the tonal color difference of each piece of bamboo. The sound of each bamboo flute varies, and thus it is not well-suited for ensembles. Bamboo of various lengths are used, up to and exceeding three "shaku", or about one meter. Five holes are drilled--four in front, one in back--and a mouthpiece is formed at the top. However, the bamboo is not cut in half, and the the joints inside the bamboo are largely left in tact. Like the shakuhachi of the Edo period, as little as possible is added to the natural bamboo, hence a more darker, subdued, complex yin sound.

I feel a combination of these two distinct styles of playing will broaden the experience of the Shakuhachi greatly.

A REFLECTION ON POSITIVE NEGATIVE SPACE in Zen and Modernity

by Alcvin Ramos

Tao is a hollow vessel

And its use is inexhaustible!

Fathomless!

Like the fountainhead of all things.

Its sharp edges rounded off

Its tangles untied

Its light tempered

Its turmoil submerged

Yet dark like deep water it seems to remain.

I do not know whose Son it is,

An image of what existed before God

---Lao Tse circa 130 BC

Who were you before you were born?

--Zen Koan

in this essay I will compare Zen-inspired artforms with the modern idea of empty spaces as described by Stephen Kern in his book, The Culture of Time and Space. First, I will give a brief history of Zen, and where some of its ideas originated.

Legend has it that a Buddhist monk from India skilled in warrior arts named Bodhidharma, brought Buddhism into China in the 6th century and taught the monks at a temple in northern China (Pei Shaolin Ssu) how to protect themselves and strengthen their bodies and minds for meditation. He is famous for sitting in front of a wall for 9 years without moving. From this mixture of Indian Buddhism and Chinese/taoist outlook resulted in ch'an which came from the Sanskrit word, dhyana, which means meditation. Ch'an emphasizes the direct realization of reality through the practice of "stilling the self" where the mind is conditioned to a point of full awareness, neither passive nor aggressive. Ch'an was brought into Japan in the 12th century where the Japanese modified it to their own cultural character. Hence, Ch'an was translated into Zen.

There are a number of parallels concerning Zen thought and its various manifestations and their relation to the modern world with its radical modernists such as the Futurists of the 20th century and other artists who tried to disrupt and shock society out of their ennui and blase existences.

The great influx of modernization and westernization of Japan took place in the Meiji Era (1868-1912). During this period, the West was beginning to experience a change in conciousness from sold objects to the idea of empty space as a real entity. All the frontiers that the West had explored were believed to be exhausted. As Kern observed about the change in characters' consciousnesses in the the world of the arts:

"New constituents appeared in a broad range of phenomenon; physical fields, architechtural spaces, and town squares; Archipenko's voids, Cubists interspaces, and Futurist power-lines; theories about stage, the frontier and national parks; Conrad's darkness, James's nothing, and Maeterlinck's silence; Proust's lost past, Mallarme's blanks, and Webner's pauses."

He continues:

"Although these conceptualiztions were as diverse as the many areas of life and thought from which they emerged and upon which they had influence, they shared the common feature of resurrecting the neglected "empty" spaces that formerly had only a supporting role and bringing them to the attention on par with the traditional subjects."

However, in the East (Japan in particular), the idea of negative space as a useful, even positive thing was an idea that was already very familiar due to the great influence that Zen Buddhist thought had on the culture of the time. So when the Meiji Restoration occured, many of the foreign ideas about empty space and the modern age weren't so surprising or shocking for the Japanese. Architechturally, Japan's buildings and houses utilized empty space in order to shape their consciousness, as in the dojo, which I will explain shortly.

In the classical physics of Newton, the world is perceived in a mechanistic way, based on the notion of solid, indestructible particles moving "through and empty and static space." Modern physics radically changed this notion about solid particles, but transformed the concept of empty space in a profound way. And all of it started wtih Einstein's Field Theory.  Ken states:

"In Einstein's mechanics everything is in movement throughout the field at the same time, and space is full and dynamic and has the power of 'partaking in physical events.'"

In these theories, the distinction between particles and the void surrounding them loses its original clarity and the empty space is recognized as a dynamic entitiy of great significance; "as substantial as a billiard ball or as active as a bolt of lightning." In a more profound sense, Eihstein is expressing the inseparable interrelation of the two opposing and complimentary forces, which led to his search for the unified field.

Fritjof Capra in his book, The Tao of Physics describes the similar ideas in Buddhist and Taoist thought:

"Buddhists call the ultimate reality Sunyata--emptiness,or 'the Void'--and affirm that it is a Void which gives birth to all living forms in the phenomenal world."

He further states:

"The Taoists ascribe a similar infinite and endless creativity of the Tao and again, call it empty. 'The Tao of Heaven is empty and formless,' says Kuan Tzu, and Lao Tzu uses several metaphors to illustrate this emptiness. He often compares the Tao to a hollow valley of a vessel which is forever empty and thus has the potential of containing an infinity of things."

Zen Buddhism had the most profound effect on Japan's intellectual and religious life in the 17th century. Buddhism came into Japan in the 6th century. Zen was eventually embraced by the Samurai and intellectual classes in the 12th century due to its heavy accent on mental and physical discipline. The place where the samurai warriors practiced their martial arts was called a dojo, or Place of The Way, which is the Buddhist-Taoist path to enlightenment. The term dojo spread throughout Japan and is commonly used now to denote a designated place to practice any of the traditional arts of Japan. The tea house (as well as the dojo) was the result of the emulation of purity and simplicity of the Zen monastery. In any case, the idea of the dojo remained unchanged for several centuries. Essentially, a martial arts dojo is a large, bare, empty room with few windows to prevent people from looking in, and straw mats to absorb the fall of people practicing their art.

At the front of the space is a simple altar (kamidana) where the spirit of past masters are enshrined. Aikido master Take Shigemichi Shihan describes the psychological space of the dojo as a place...

"where a student has had the road to thinking blocked, when he's had all his senses deprived, in other words, you are starting at the most sparsest of levels with everything; there's not a lot of food, drink; there's not a lot of acceptance or praise..."

He goes on to say,

"Really it's the most basic of basics. It is one room full of straw mats and a mirror, or mats and an altar. And those basics symbolize a form of deprivation, everything other than that. This is to say you are in a room to face, and for the first time, open up and view yourself. That room of deprivation, if you will, is to help you to develop a frame of mind where you become so hungry and so attuneed and so attentive, because there's nothing else but that. Now you can learn."

When entering or exiting or moving within this space, a strict protocol is adhered to such as bowing before entering as well as exiting, and bowing before stepping onto the mat, and before stepping off. Bowing is an age old gesture practiced in Japan (some might say to the extreme) as a gesture of respect used in relation to a person, place, or thing. During practice, everyone is taught to be very sensitive to one another's space, making sure not to bump or run into them. And when one transgresses someone's boundaries, a bow of apology is always given (unlike the automatons of metropolitan London as described by Baudelaire or Poe.) There is an inherent belief in Eastern thought that each person has a very individual space that is uniqeu and requires respect from those around. This is very similar to the modern idea of heterogeneity of abstract objects that Einstein so boldly expressed:

"there is an infinite number of spaces, which are in motion with respect to each other."

Practice time is when the dojo comes alive and the atmopshere of the space changes dramatically. Everyone within this desigmated space is there, eager to learn, all concentration focused on the teacher. The dynamic movements, smells and sounds of the practitioners, intensely transforms the space in a psychological and physical way.

This sounds like it is, as Michel Foucault would put it, a heterotopic space of crisis, such as a boarding school where a type of initiation into something larger takes place. The difference is that people who come to a dojo have a choice whether to parcitipate of not. It is also very much like a church in the West where people come to meditate or worship.

Music in the Occident was also influenced profoundly by this new awareness of positive negative space. Composers such as Anton von Webern used negatives in striking ways. Kern states:

The extreme brevity of his compositions (whole movements less than a minute long) echoes with all that is left out, and what can be heard is laced with frequent breathtaking silences."

The Zen music of the shakuhachi bamboo flute also reflects the positive emptiness in its physical structure as well as its musical theory. It is merely a piece of bamboo with five finger holes. Shakuhachi master, Christopher Blasdel states,

"Whereas in most Western music a sense of space is expressed through harmonic structure, and the sense of time by the passage of notes and melodic development, temporality and spaciality in traditional shakuhachi music depends heavily on tone colour, intensity of breath, duration, and the use of non-tonal breath sounds and finger trills."

In the world of Western painting, Kern explains that "the emergence of negative space in painting contrasts sharply with earlier conventions of rendering the subject with far greater emphasis than the  background....In the modern period the background took on  a positive, active function of equal importance with the subject and demanded the full attention of the artist."

Zen scholar, Nancy Wilsion Ross comments about Zen painting:

"To Zen painters space was as real as solids--a surprisingly modern point of view. Space, though empty, was never vacant, for out of Emptiness or the Void came all life. Artists learned to suggest aliveness in unfilled surfaces and, in compositions, to employ empty space in ways which are, from the point of view of conventional western aesthetics, extremely daring. Thus, for instance, we see in a famous old painting a figure of a man with his back to us staring out across infinite distance, staff in hand, robe blowing in the wind. Two thirds of this painting is only empty wash, yet as we look, we too become the solitary traveler, and the space into which he startes on that windy autumn evening becomes as real as if we stood beside  him on his lonely promontory."

Zen belongs to a long tradition of master-student lineage dating back to the most ancient times of India. Most practitioners of Zen believe it is not possible to grasp the deepest roots of Zen without the aid of a teacher who has already had the experience of illumination.

In the learning process, particularly in the tradition of the Rinzai Zen in Japan, there are specific techniques employed by the teacher to aid the student in experiencing an abrupt awakening of transcendental wisdom, or enlightenment. Among the methods it practices are shouts (katsu) or blows delivered by the master on the disciples' shoulder. Another of these tools is in the form of questions and answers known as mondo, where normal thought is "speeded" up to facilitate the breakthrough experience. Then there is the well-known koan, the unsolvable riddle, which contains the possible seed of shock that has the potential of cracking the surface of the superficial rational mind bound up in contradictory dualisms; submerged ina plethora of distinctions, discriminations, and differences.

Here are some examples of koans:

How can you free yourself from birth and death?

A cherry blossom blooms each year in the Yoshino Mountains. But split the tree and tell me where the flowers are.

This brings to mind the radical Futurists of the early 20th Century (and later Dadaists and Surrealists) who tried to bring about a crisis in the Western conciousness by shocking people out of their mundane, complacent existence with their obsessive focus on speed, change, movement, and energy. In their manifesto, they describe being smeared

"in factory muck--plastered with metallic waste, with senseless sweat, with celestial soot...." etc.

Although they condemn beauty, (except in struggle) it seems if they are seeing beauty , a certain fascinating aesthetic, in the negative forces of technology. The Futurists glamorized technology and valorized the modern. Wheras the Zennists glorified nature and worshipped the mundane. There is a particular Zen art aesthetic in Japan, which is particularly evident in the art of ceramics where the imperfection and "ugliness" of form and space is created and admired for its aestheitcally pleasing quality. Grant Stephen comments on his writing on Bizen pottery:

"Crude shapes, scored with harsh cuts and strokes present an 'ugly' and 'grotesque' look. To many people outside this artistic heritage, the way in which Bizen-yaki dispenses with familiar aesthetic conventions and rules offers them objects and detailing which fail to appeal, interest, or charm, leading to such comments as 'Why is it so ugly?' Such forms and markings, however, have been created with the utmost level of discipline and control. In the firestorm of the kiln, the shapes of the clay and its surface detailing blend appropriately with the heat effects, texture, changes, and 'accidents'. The pottery exhibits a primal energy, based around often vioent but controlled shapes."

The West was also going through a crisis of spirit with their collapse of traditional faith. Kern states:

"The most material consequences of the loss was a blurring of the distinction between the sacred of the temple and the profane space outside. "Profane means "outside the temple," and many artists and intellectuals found themselves outside, not only wondering which way was up but also faced with the realization that there was no longer a temple to return to. In a world without God all men confront nothingness, and, as Nietzche noted, most "would rather will nothingness than not will."

He further states:

"But some people avoided nihilistic despair and learned to create their sanctuaries. This was to be the great creative effort of the overmen, the artists and intellectuals who affirmed life and learned to love their fate in the face of the void. if there are no holy temples, any place can beconsacrated materials, then ordinary sticks and stones may do, and the aritst alone can make them sacred. It is no accident that the leading architects of this period displayed simple materials of wood, stone, brick, and glass and stripped away the facades and ornaments that had adorned sacred and royal structures of the hierachical past."

Harkening back to my paper on the Japanse tea house, Kern's observation sounds like an echo of the motivation behind Zen architecture and aethetics. The construction of the tea house, and items used in the tea ceremony are done with absolute care and precision with the purpose of elevating the mundane things used in everyday life to heightened sense of appreciation and sacredness. There is a conscious absence of the symmetrical and incompleteness, for in Zen it is thought that uniformity of design was detrimental to the imagination, and that true beauty could only be discovered by one who could mentally complete the incomplete.

There are many more stiking parallels between other Japanese arts and modern Western arts such as theatre and poetry, which are interesting studies in themselves.

In conclusion, whether these similarities between Zen and modern thought are significnat or not, I don't know. The contemplation of positive negative space in the West and East is an interesting koan in itself which I'll contemplate on my next visit to the temple for zazen, or on my next ferry ride to the city for teaching.

Wby I do Shakuhachi

The underlying reason I do shakuhachi basically an existential one: who am I in this world and what is my path in life? I observed the state of people living in society from the not so wealthy to wealthy, having the tendency to collect vast amounts of stuff. 15 years ago I asked myself, “How much is enough? How do I live a balanced life?” The Buddhist idea of Right Livelihood--of living a life that is ethical and beneficial for my spiritual development, helped me to choose my vocation.

I came to see that there was no relationship to how much money one makes and being truly happy. It seems like we live in a society of “addictions”. The more we get the more we crave. Spending time in a monastery taught me many important things, but I felt I needed more of a balance between society and my work. Therefore I needed to find something that made me truly happy. What could I see myself doing for the rest of life? The only thing I could think of was shakuhachi. So I chose to become a shakuhachi flute teacher and player. It seemed interesting and exciting as well as gentle on the environment and to society. But how to successfully make a living at it was another question.

The first step was to increase my skill level. So I trained very intensely with masters in Japan and attended as many workshops and lectures as possible, practicing several hours a day, working to master the honkyoku, classical zen pieces for shakuhachi. I also entered several competitions and performances to test my skill and hear critiques (and compliments) from high level players which was indispensable to my learning. I also spent time studying the art of making shakuhachi with recognized masters in order to gain a more intimate knowledge of the physics of the flute, and the process of creating a flute from harvesting bamboo to the finished instrument.

After several years of playing and studying, I applied for a shihan (master) teaching license from grand master Katsuya Yokoyama in Japan. This license would qualify me to teach shakuhachi. I was fortunate enough to receive this honor. 

The next step was to find a way to make a living doing shakuhachi back home in North America. I had thought I could only do honkyoku (spiritual pieces) but I quickly found that I had to be a musician to be recognized in the west. So I had a to re-learn western music theory and composition in order to communicate with other musicians. Luckily I studied music as a youth and quickly picked up what I had forgot. Once I arrived in Canada I quickly worked to establish myself in the local music scene. But the most important component of my vocation is my practice of meditation (Zen) which taught me to listen to the sounds of nature and the universe more deeply; and to intensely focus on my path.

Everything that I derive from my shakuhachi path is nectar to my life. More importantly,  I aim to live a more and more frugal life. I only buy what I need and discard what I don’t need.  I enjoy fully whatever comes into my life and refuse to be addicted to the thrill of acquiring more and more things (only more bamboo!). I realized if I concentrate on what I love, everything else flows naturally. I am deeply grateful for living in a place and time that grants us the freedom to live a truly balanced life.

Shakuhchai as a Way of Life

For me, shakuhachi is a way of life. Just one minor path amongst the millions of others in the human experience. How does one live a shakhachi life? First one must love the sound of the shakuhachi. To love it is to hear it being played. Then one must play it and love the  playing of it. To love playing shakuhachi, one must have discipline to practice with a teacher, the classical repertoir, honkyoku. Without honkyoku there wouldn't be shakuhachi. Honkyoku is the true sound of the shakuhachi which countless players before have contributed to its tradition.

Living a shakuhachi life also means being connected to Japan. To play shakuhachi, one must have an intuitive respect for Japanese culture and arts. Honkyoku and shakuhachi are inseperable from learning some aspects of Japanese culture. If one cannot respect Japanese culture, then one is missing a vital part of shakuhachi. Respect entails being grateful for something one loves. Therefore one must have a teacher to keep learning and being inspired to play.

Living shakuhachi also means deriving your livelihood from either teaching, playing, or making shakuhachi. In today's world, this requires one to be a musician or craftsman. This means to have knowledge of melody, harmony, rhythm, timbre. To teach shakuhachi, one must have studied with a teacher and have knowledge of teaching techniques. A teacher must charge for lessons to derive his or her living. Other ways of making a living are recording CDs to sell, giving performances, and making flutes. There is nothing un-spiritual about this. This is good since it forces one to practice and keep one's skill level up.

One can live like a Komoso, living on the street and playing for food. But it is extremely difficult. Since there are no more government-supported temples to support Komuso activities, it is impossible to live like the Komuso of the Edo period.

Of course one can have a steady day job and still enjoy shakuhachi deeply. Perhaps this is the most ideal situation!