Japan update

Meeting with Shamisen and Biwa

5 Strings open wide
Deep into space timeless
Burning, love, beauty

Wind blowing 5 holes
Blazing a path for the soul
Bamboo connecting

---Alcvin Ramos

November 18, 1999

It's already November and I have settled down nicely into my life in Japan. It's persimmon (kaki) season again and leaves in the mountains are starting to blaze up with yellows and reds. It's a wonderful feeling to see the change in the seasons.

Last week I met a shamisen player named Makoto Nishimura. For those of you who don't know what a shamisen is, it is a three-stringed square banjo-like instrument made of wood and animal hide, used in playing a particular genre of Japanese music called "nagauta" often times with koto (Japanese horizontal zither), shakuhachi, and voice. It originally developed as accompaniment to the Japanese theatre dance of Kabuki and subsequently was used in Noh theatre, folk dance, as well as bunraku (puppet theatre). Makoto-san is the long time student of shamisen master, Hiroaki Kikuoka, who is a major force in the development of concert nagauta. I was moved by her story of poverty and a dissillusioned marriage and rebelling against the structure of the Japanese traditional music system by focusing on passing the art down to foreigners, passing up a professional career for a mundane 9-5 job as a sterilizer of medical instruments in a hospital while raising two children on her own. I met her for the first time last week and we played together for a bit, the piece, "Kuro Kami" or "Black Hair" to get a feeling for each other. Actually I followed along improvising as she sang beautifully and played her shamisen since I didn't memorize the piece. I was also surprised to find out she is also well versed in the "tsuzumi" and shime daiko drums, as well as the horizontal bamboo flute (fue). This December we plan to play a show together in Tokyo with a koto player and biwa player and perhaps a butoh dancer.

This past weekend I also met Furuya Kazuko, a story teller and biwa player. We originally met while I was in Vancouver a few years ago, through my mentor Takeo Yamashiro. The biwa is another stringed traditional Japanese instrument made of rosewood and boxwood. It is a cousin to the Chinese pipa, but with less strings. It has its origins in the ancient middle east with the Arabic, lute called al-'ud. Crusaders in the dark ages took it and made the English lute. But earlier, it made its way to Japan via the silk route and China. In the Japan of old, the biwa was a favorite instrument of the Heian era (700-1200 ca.) aristocrats who sang about love and nature. It was often played in duet with the koto as well as in the gagaku orchestra. "Heikyoku" biwa music is the oldest existing solo music still being played in Japan. Later, the biwa was also used by samurai warriors of the Satsuma clan in southern Kyushu as a tool to develop mental concentration and perseverance. Wandering priest-musicians also used the "moso-biwa" as accompaniment to intoning sutras. The picture below is of Kazuko (right) holding her biwa, and her friend (left) who plays oud.
The biwa has a special buzzy effect which comes from the high and wide bridges which the strings are suspended from. This beautiful sound is called "sawari" and is very similar to the sitar and the south Indian vina. The bloody sea battle of Dan No Ura closed the Heian era and ballads of legends of fallen warriors and tragic suicides changed the biwa into the deep and brooding solo instrument it is know as today. There is a strong similarity with the emotional feeling of shakuhachi and how the shakuhachi was used, but at that time I believe the shakuhachi had gone underground. It wasn't until the Edo period (1600~1870) that the shakuhachi emerged again and was used as a tool to aid in the process of enlightenment through playing the honkyoku (original solo pieces) as the wandering beggar monks known as Komuso travelled the countryside. Shakuhachi solo pieces tended to have a minor, dark flavor, and used particular blowing techniques such as "muraiki", to imitate the fierce, howling wind. I wonder if this dark, lonely, intense feeling is connected to all the death and bloodshed that happened in the past. I love the sound of the biwa. It is my favorite instrument next to the shakuhachi. Kazuko studied biwa with the national treasure, Tsuruta Kinshi who, sadly, died this year. Interestingly enough, Tsuruta-sensei is connected to Yokoyama Katsuya in that they played together on the ground-breaking piece, November Steps, composed by Takemitsu Toru in the 60's. This piece was the first contemporary orchestral piece composed for traditional Japanese instruments. Kazuko also studied traditional story telling, called "Katari", which literally means "narration", with a master storyteller of Noh theatre, Hideo Kanze, as well as taiko drumming.

We spent the day together then I accompanied her to her evening reading (without biwa) at her artist friend's dwelling: an old thatched-roofed Japanese farm house in the outskirts of Yokohama. The atmosphere was very appropriate as she was bathed in shadows; the soft brown candle light glowing off dilapidated washi paper sliding doors as the audience sat on old tatami mats, kerosene stoves keeping the space warm and comfortable. Contrasted with the traditional Japanese setting was her story which was an old Austrian myth about wolves. Mind you, I hardly understood a word since it was all in poetic Japanese, but her expression was wonderful and beautifully theatrical, almost as if she were singing and telling a poem. She captivated the audience for 2 full hours. I couldn't stay for the cozy party afterwards since Yokohama to my apartment in Asaka is 3 hours by train, so I had to leave early.

Japanese are sometimes accused of lacking emotion and generally outward emotional expression is discouraged. But ironically, strong emotion is a major way of persuading and influencing Japanese people. And in traditional arts sensitivity is preferred over analysis and understanding of your art and instrument with the "kokoro" (heart-mind) is the rule. But in order to be a balanced player development of technique is also essential. In the 1994 International Shakuahachi Festival in Bisei, Okayama, Japan, shakuhachi master, Iwamoto Yoshikazu said, "...practice 8 or more hours a day, even if it means keeping your neighbours up at night!"