Japan update

Cool in the Cold

"Do you know those old trains, chooog chooog chooog chooog?"

"Yes, you mean a locomotive?"

"You must play that part with such a speed. From slow to fast. Gradually".

Living in a narrow field I wake up every so often between waves of the blade cutting the elements. Floating down the bamboo river. There is great potential in this limited frequency. A crack in the the gray sky jagged as a lightening bolt opening, twisting like black smoke, a claw in the ground that won't release. Stripped bare by the deep fire, hardened by the cold, I'm already used to the pain. But it's almost over, the cells exerting their natural powers of regeneration. The waters of life flow through me now. Magical dust covers me in a red cocoon of coolness. The light at the end of the long and arduous bore through the ordeal of the desert initiation into this new life. If I play this piece will the Buddha come out again in this world? Dipping the flute into the darkness, black as sumi ink I brush the air across the sharp edge swiftly, slicing the veil for an opening for the ancients to come through from their firey realm, breaking out, like a newborn bird from the limit of the egg world. Egg and bamboo. Funny combination. Aru. Take.

"No, no! You must play with more "tameh". Like the feeling before the arrow is released from the bow."

It's still quite chilly, especially in the mountains of Chichibu. But the days are getting longer and some days are warmer than others. Hint of spring. Transformation time. Japanese say "San kan shi on", "Three cold four warm". Sitting in front of Kakizakai sensei I play the piece for him. Koden Sugomori. Out comes a miscarriaged rendition of the classical crane song. Neck is still killing me from carrying my heavy bag long distance a few days ago. I just got my 1.8 back from Ichijo the maker after he re-tuned it, so I'm still getting used to the changes. It seems I have to warm up the bamboo, and me, more to get it sounding good. But I keep dropping into a hole of overtones when I hit kan no ro from other notes. Maybe I'll send it back for a double check on it. I'm not a consoissuer of shakuahchi. I still have much to learn about the workings of the instrument, and haven't played the flutes of as many makers as I would like, but yesterday I was hanging out at Okuda-san's tea house in Kokubunji (he plays mainly hocchiku) and he had a 1.8 Yokoyama Ranpo flute. I played it and I was very moved by the sweet, fluid tone quality it produced. It was unlike any flute I've played before. Refreshing like a gentle, blue-cool breeze on a sweltering summer day. Or a like a fine, well-aged wine (although I've never tasted such a beverage, the comparison seems fitting.) Such a contrast to my relatively young piece of bamboo, hard, piercing and loud (don't get me wrong, I love my flute! I was told that as the bamboo ages the sound mellows out. How like a person, the bamboo is!). He had bought it 30 years ago, and even then it was kind of old. The bamboo was very dark brown and purplish in spots and the upper half was binded in four places, but no apparent cracks. Jokingly, I asked if he needed it since he mainly plays the hocchiku, maybe he could give it to me. He said of course he needed it! Then quoted an astonishingly high price for the flute just to emphasize its value and intention of not letting it go.

"Don't play like a concrete river! Change in volume creates good MA".

It's interesting to observe how the mind attracts what it thinks about the most. Sometimes I wonder how the heck I got here taking the last three years to be away from my wife to study this instrument. I'm not special by any means. I'm not that well read and not a brilliant scholar or genius / musician /artist. In fact, I'm quite simple and limited (almost narrow-minded), I'd say. I pretty much take what I see before me for what it is and observe how this particular mind translates it into meaningful reality. What floors me is that this plain (kind of forgetful guy), average, typical, short, gen-x Asian from a simple, conservative family, from a simple, middle / working-class town, who lived a typical Asian-American life growing up listening to Depeche Mode, Duran Duran, David Bowie, Talking Heads, Ryuichi Sakamoto, The Police, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Cocteau Twins, got to be here in Japan following a mysterious bamboo flute which has taken him and others who have followed it on a fascinating and magical ride. One of those red pill blue pill scenarios. There is something uncannily dynamic about the shakuhachi. I wonder what it is about this flute that manifests these cool experiences for people. I'd love to hear everyone's shakuhachi story. Perhaps it's not the shakuhachi at all but something in the essence of the art that opens something up in the observer/practitioner. For me it was hearing a certain combination of tones and sonic textures and seeing the bamboo flute shape and form which hooked me. When I read all about it's history, man that took the cake. The coolest instrument in the world, I thought. Gotta learn to play it. They say it's one of the most difficult instruments to learn. Even more cool. If I learn to play this piece of bamboo in my lifetime, the rest is just icing on the cake. (Props go out to all the shakuhachi masters out there!) I guess that's when I unconsciously gulped down that blue pill. There are many styles and schools of shakuhachi. I want to respect and give good energy to all of them. I don't want to be prejudice against other styles. But unfortunately, this is how the human mind functions, it seems. There is always a power play of categorizing of qualities going on in one's head. The tricks the mind plays are so insidious sometimes. I guess it's just a matter of following the sound that moves you the most. But it's interesting that I get crazy about this bamboo flute and meet others in North America who are crazy about it too, then come to Japan and meet the source culture and there are people here that are just as crazy about it as me! In fact, these roots extend all over the world. I guess it's not so surprising since it has a dynamic growth quality that can't be suppressed easily. There is something connective about this instrument that is healing. "Cool" is the word that comes to mind. Forgive me for choosing such a banal and cliche word. After all, I'm not such a sophisticated guy. Raised in a post-modern paradisical wonderland soaked in superficial, fragmented jargon and street-based slang lingo. Maybe shakuhachi is a way of connecting it all back, paring it all down to the basics.

"Here I consider, discuss with my air, how much I should blow. You should blow this line in one breath. Hito iki. In one breath."

Is life really that brutal? Yes, it would seem. How does one enjoy the brutality? That's hard to say. The answer, for me, lies in the sound of the bamboo. Playing the 5-holed bamboo and having the sound resonate deep in me within the narrow range of the honkyoku focus, I can bear the suffering with joy. But this is only me. It's probably different for everyone. Only those born to hear and feel it will understand. Having a nice partner helps too. Nice to feel the warmer days coming on. But it was a winter to remember.....