Sokobayashi

When Tanaka Seiichi – a Japanese immigrant who had come to Northern California in 1967– attended the 1968 Cherry Blossom Festival in San Francisco, he expected an environment like the raucous festivals of his youth in Nagano prefecture. However, the festivities consisted of little more than a parade featuring, in Tanaka’s words, pretty girls wearing “beautiful kimono, and walking nicely” (2005). He was disappointed by the quiet atmosphere of the festivities, but at the same time he found himself motivated to create “the beat and rhythm of the festival drum with which he had been familiar in Japan” (Otsuka 1997, 25). The following year (1968), Tanaka and his friends put together a performance for the festival: he played a drum borrowed from a local Buddhist temple while his friends carried around a mikoshi.[1]

That same year, Ishizuka Yutaka (later known as Mochizuki Saburo) and members of Sukeroku Taiko came to San Francisco while accompanying a singer on a tour of the western United States. After a performance, Tanaka and two other young men asked Ishizuka to teach them the Sukeroku performance style. Agreeing after some initial trepidation, Ishizuka and two other members remained in San Francisco for two weeks to give lessons to not only the three young men but also to a number of people who came to watch the open sessions held in the Japan Center in San Francisco’s Japantown (Mogi 2010, 39). When it came time to return to Japan, the Sukeroku Taiko members were unable to ship the drums back with them, so they left the equipment with Tanaka. This gift gave him the foundation for a taiko ensemble: “an ō-daiko with a naname stand, 2 chū-daiko, and a basic set of shime-daiko” (Mogi 2010, 39).[2]

Bolstered by this experience, Tanaka returned to Japan for three months in the following year (1969). He travelled to Nagano Prefecture, where he had grown up, and asked to receive instruction from Osuwa Daiko founder Oguchi Daihachi. In his youth, Tanaka “had been enamored by Osuwa Daiko” (Otsuka 1998, 45). When he envisioned the types of sounds that could be heard at a festival, one of his memories was “a group playing various taiko drums” that was most likely Oguchi Daihachi’s group (2005). However, as a child he had not been allowed to join the group, for in the early days of Osuwa Daiko Oguchi limited it only to family members and a few immediate friends. However, when Tanaka returned in 1969 Oguchi changed his mind and decided to teach him, due in part to Tanaka’s fervor for the art form (Oguchi 1987, 241, Aigner 2002) After studying with Oguchi for a short time, Tanaka returned to the United States and again performed at the Cherry Blossom Festival.

Tanaka Seiichi at the 1969 San Francisco Cherry Blossom Festival.
Gift of San Francisco Taiko Dojo, Japanese American National Museum (2005.97.2). Used With Permission.

Bolstered by these experiences, Tanaka and his friends formed the San Francisco Taiko Doukoukai (doukoukai 同好会means “club” – literally, “an association of like-minded people”), later described as a “recreational group for Japanese youth” (Otsuka 1997, 25). The use of the Japanese term “Doukoukai” is reflective both of practices in San Francisco’s Japantown, where many older businesses and organizations used Japanese terms, and of the fact that the majority of early members were Japanese immigrants with Japanese as their primary language. It was a gathering place for these immigrants, a way to establish a social circle. That is not to say that the group was restricted to Japanese immigrants, however, as from the beginning of the group’s history its membership included Japanese-Americans and even people not of Japanese or Asian descent.

However, Tanaka soon moved beyond viewing taiko performance simply as a social activity, or something that could fill the sonic space of the San Francisco Cherry Blossom Festival, and decided to dedicate his life to the musical genre. He saw playing the taiko as a way to contribute to the community, having observed how the crowds reacted when he played the drum.[3] At the same time, however, he saw in the art form a new path similar to his original goal of teaching martial arts in the United States, believing that “a focus on people and accessibility was something that taiko, more than other traditional Japanese art forms, could offer” (Yoon 2007, 11).

The San Francisco Taiko Doukoukai’s early repertoire included many pieces taken from the catalogues of Osuwa Daiko and Sukeroku Taiko; works like “Suwa Ikazuchi,” “Hiryū San-dan Gaeshi,” and “Yodan Uchi” formed the core of performances. At the same time, however, Tanaka also began to compose new works for his group that combined the various performance styles he had learned. One such work was “Sokobayashi,” written in the early 1970s.

“Sokobayashi”

“Sokobayashi” is named after “Sōkō,” the word for San Francisco used by first-generation Japanese immigrants to the United States (issei). The name “Soko” came from a transliteration of San Francisco using Chinese characters – Sō-hō-shi-ku-kō (桑方西斯哥) – which was later reduced to Sō-kō; the name can still be found in many Japanese-American businesses and institutions across San Francisco. “Bayashi,” meanwhile, is the Japanese word for festival orchestras. The naming evokes regional festival music traditions in Japan, which often combine place names and “-bayashi” (for example, Edo-bayashi, the music of Edo, the old name for Tokyo).

Dedicated to that first generation of Japanese immigrants that supported the Japanese-American community, “Sokobayashi” was created in response to Tanaka’s own discovery of the history of Japanese immigrants in the United States.[4]  He wanted to give something back to that group that was so overjoyed by his performances at the San Francisco Cherry Blossom Festival and other community events, noting that he would watch them smile with tears streaming down their faces.[5]

“Sokobayashi” reflects Tanaka’s early taiko experiences; in it, he combines elements from both Osuwa Daiko and Sukeroku Taiko performance practices. The primary ensemble is similar to that used in the Sukeroku Taiko “Oroshi Daiko”/“Shiraume Daiko”/“Matsuri Daiko” suite: four nagadō-daiko, plus a shime-daiko and an ō-daiko (albeit in this case the ō-daiko is placed on the ground and played vertically like a nagadō-daiko rather than on a horizontal stand).[6] The nagadō-daiko are placed on the slanted naname stands used by Sukeroku Taiko, further placing it within that Tokyo Shitamachi festival performance lineage. At the same time, however, Tanaka also added elements taken from Osuwa Daiko – most prominently, the tettō (a metallic, pipe-like instrument created by Oguchi Daihachi) and the fue (rarely used in Sukeroku Taiko repertoire, but found in some Osuwa Daiko pieces). Furthermore, the use of the ō-daiko is closer to Osuwa Daiko practice than to Sukeroku Taiko, playing an ostinato with occasional accent that highlights the rhythmic melody (as compared to within Sukeroku Taiko, when the ō-daiko is used in a more ‘melodic’ role).

The Music of “Sokobayashi”

“Sokobayashi” begins much in the manner of Sukeroku Taiko’s “Oroshi Daiko”: a series of rhythms rolls are passed around the ensemble, often involving rolls that with an accent and then rising in volume before reducing to a quiet roll played underneath the subsequent patterns. Many of the short rhythms that immediately precede each roll in this opening are the same or slight variations of those used in “Oroshi Daiko,” as is the division of the nagadō-daiko players into four different parts.

These rolls are interwoven with kakegoe in the style of Sukeroku Taiko, continuing the connection to “Oroshi Daiko,” but one addition to the model is the inclusion of the tettō within the nagadō-daikoshime-daiko progression.

After several series of rolls, with the space between each player getting smaller with each cycle (much like in “Oroshi Daiko”), the ensemble briefly pauses before the ō-daiko player begins a steady ostinato that is soon joined by the tettō.

In this moment, the piece moves from its Sukeroku Taiko inspiration to becoming more akin to the style of Osuwa Daiko. The o-daiko and tettō provide a rhythmic framework via their ostinato, occasionally providing some accents. At the same time, Tanaka also makes an addition to the performance styles of his teachers. Meanwhile, the fue provides a semi-improvised melody as the rest of the ensemble plays, a practice not found in Sukeroku Taiko’s repertoire and very rarely in the music of Osuwa Daiko. The bamboo flute has a secondary role, however, standing at the back of the ensemble; if not for the use of a microphone, the flute would not be able to be heard over the drums.[7]

On top of this ostinato and fue quasi-improvisation, a rhythmic melody is played on the nagadō-daiko; this follows the practice of using ‘middle’ drums as melody within Oguchi Daihachi’s orchestration scheme.

This melody is repeated twice, accompanied by an ostinato on the ō-daiko, tettō, and shime-daiko. It stands apart from the patterns created by Osuwa Daiko and Sukeroku Taiko through a greater emphasis on off-beat rhythmic patterns; while there were off-beat rhythms in Sukeroku Taiko and Osuwa Daiko pieces, the frequency of such rhythms in “Sokobayashi” – along with regular movement between the rim and drumhead – causes the piece to stand out from its predecessors. At the same time, there is a great deal of choreography in a performance of the melody; much like in many Osuwa Daiko pieces (such as “Suwa Ikazuchi” and “Hiryū San-dan Gaeshi”), spaces in the rhythm are filled with various movements – most prominently, diagonal points and circular movements with the hands and arms. The movements, meanwhile, hearken back to the choreography of “Shiraume Daiko.”

After a second repeat of the melody, there is another pause, before the tettō reenters at a faster tempo. This begins a series of interplay between the tettō and nagadō-daiko, in a fashion similar to the nagadō-daiko/shime-daiko interplay of Sukeroku Taiko’s “Matsuri Daiko.” The nagadō-daiko plays a fast, quiet ostinato, adding accented rhythms that interchange with the tettō rhythm.[8]

This then leads into a series of improvisations by each player as the rest of the ensemble provides the ostinato. Tanaka is typically the last player to improvise, with the solos starting fast and loud and gradually getting softer and sparser. Eventually, he ends his improvisation, pausing momentarily before reentering once again with the fast ostinato from the beginning of the section. “Sokobayashi” then concludes with a restatement of the melody (accompanied by the fue, who is generally silent during the drum solos), performed at the same tempo as the solos. The increased speed gives this melody a greater degree of intensity, echoed in the ō-daiko ostinato played at this new tempo. After the final note, all players move back into a pose position combining both Osuwa Daiko and Sukeroku Taiko styles – the tettō and shime-daiko players point their arms in the air, much as Oguchi Daihachi does in many Osuwa Daiko pieces, while the nagadō-daiko players bring their arms back into a pose used often by Sukeroku Taiko.

The final pose of “Sokobayashi.” Screenshot from a 2008 DVD (San Francisco Taiko Dojo 2008)

From Osuwa & Sukeroku to the Tanaka Style

While “Sokobayashi” draws heavily from the performance styles learned by Tanaka in the late 1960s in terms of orchestration, instrumentation, and choreography, there is also a degree of intensity in a performance of the piece that cannot be found in Osuwa Daiko or Sukeroku Taiko repertoire. This can partially be attributed to the number of drummers featured in performances, as Tanaka fully adopted Oguchi Daihachi’s approach of having many drummers playing at the same time, but it is also due to a more forceful and physical performance style developed by Tanaka as he added in elements from his martial arts background. Players yell loudly and often in support of those that are improvising, a far cry from the spare, rhythmic vocalizations utilized by Sukeroku Taiko. Furthermore, players often jump and move around as they play, putting their entire bodies into hitting the drum. While Sukeroku Taiko and Osuwa Daiko both integrated movement into their performance style, this is something different, more an expression of emotion and the physicality of playing the drum than a preconceived choreographic action. This development of new performance practices would be continued by Tanaka throughout the 1970s.

As the San Francisco Taiko Doukoukai became more popular and attracted more members, they began to expand activities beyond San Francisco, performing at cultural festivals across California. In the late 1970s, Tanaka changed the group’s name to San Francisco Taiko Dojo (the name by which it is known today).[9] This change reflected both the changing nature of the group – it was less a group of young Japanese friends and more an environment in which members were taught the basics of the burgeoning musical genre of contemporary taiko performance – and Tanaka’s own approach to the art form. The term “dōjō” (道場) literally means “place of the way,” and is used in Japanese to refer to a physical training facility. Reflective of this approach, Tanaka began to require a more strict approach to practices, adopting a hierarchical relationship system commonly found in Japanese martial and performance arts. At the same time, even as the group membership expanded beyond the Japanese immigrants that made up the first generation of members, Tanaka continued to maintain a connection with Japan. As reported by Otsuka Chie, “students also learn several Japanese songs, Japanese writing, and Japanese terms along with learning songs and etiquette” (Otsuka 1997, 28). Students and group members are required to open and close each practice with aisatsu, formalized greetings and words of parting meant partially as terms of respect for the teacher and for your fellow students (commonly used in not only Japanese arts, but in many elements of Japanese society).

Meanwhile, practices grew more and more intense as Tanaka integrated his martial arts experiences into his taiko playing style. Many former members speak of being kicked or hit with a drumstick if they made a mistake, as well as describe long periods of running or playing rolls on the drum that were more tests of endurance rather than exercises meant to develop musical technique. It caused many to leave the group, but those that remained talk about the experience with a degree of pride, viewing it as a rite of passage of sorts.

Tanaka came to draw more and more from his martial arts background in the development of performance practices for his group, as he came to believe that playing the taiko “demands not only musical skill, but also the acquisition of respect, the training of one’s body, and the preparation of one’s mind,” a concept that echoes tenets found in many martial arts (Otsuka 1998, 47). In time, he would state that his performance style “is not only the skillful playing of percussion instruments, but also the discipline of mind and body in the spirit of complete respect and unity among the drummers,” the result of “rigorous mental, physical, and martial arts training.”[10] In the United States, this came to be known as the “Tanaka style” of taiko playing, a performance style distinct from those developed by Osuwa Daiko and Sukeroku Taiko.

Works Cited 

2005. Big Drum: Taiko in the United States: Japanese American National Museum. DVD.

Aigner, Hal. 2002. “Full Circle: Seiichi Tanaka.” World Beat Report: Journeying through the World Community of the Greater San Francisco Bay Area. http://www.sonic.net/~haigner/tanaka.htm.

Mogi, Hitoshi. 2010. “Oedo Sukeroku Taiko 大江戸助六太鼓.”  Taikorojii たいころじい [Taikology] 36:34-41.

Oguchi, Daihachi. 1987. Tenko – Oguchi Daihachi no Nihon Taiko-ron 天鼓ー小口大八の日本太鼓論. Nagano, Japan: Ginga Shobo.

Otsuka, Chie. 1997. “Learning Taiko in America.”Master’s Thesis, Master’s Program in Area Studies, University of Tsukuba.

Otsuka, Chie. 1998. “Beikoku ni Okeru Wadaiko no Hatten 米国における和太鼓の発展.”  Taikorojii たいころじい [Taikology] 16:45-52.

San Francisco Taiko Dojo. 2008. Seiichi Tanaka & San Francisco Taiko Dojo: Highlights: San Francisco Taiko Dojo. DVD.

Yoon, Paul J. 2007. Development and Support of Taiko in the United States. New York: Asia Society.

Footnotes

[1] http://www.discovernikkei.org/en/interviews/clips/436/ (Accessed October 1, 2017)

[2] The term chū-daiko is one that is occasionally used to refer to nagadō-daiko, owing to the typical size of this type of drum: “chū” means middle, placing it in relation to the ō-daiko (“ō” meaning “large”) and the small shime-daiko.

[3] http://www.discovernikkei.org/en/interviews/clips/436/ (Accessed October 1, 2017)

[4] http://www.discovernikkei.org/en/interviews/clips/436/ (Accessed October 1, 2017)

[5] http://www.discovernikkei.org/en/interviews/clips/351/ (Accessed October 1, 2017)

[6] While some performances of this piece feature a larger ensemble, both with more nagadō-daiko or other drums and percussion instruments, this instrumentation is at the core of the performance and serves as the common link for all variations.

[7] The fue part uses a quasi-pentatonic scale using the notes D, E, G, A, and B flat. I call it semi-improvised due to the fact that in performance, certain intervals are accentuated over others, such as a descent from D to B flat and from G to B.

Owing both to the semi-improvised nature of the fue part and its secondary position in relation to the drums (which are the focus of this piece), I will not be including a transcription.

[8] When playing this part, Tanaka typically uses the various parts of the tettō to create different-pitched sounds – high, medium, and low. However, the choice of pitch appears to be improvised; thus, the transcription features only one pitch.

[9] It is unclear when exactly the name change occurred. Otsuka Chie cites a date of 1980 in her history of the group. (Otsuka 1997, 26)

However, the name “San Francisco Taiko Dojo” is used in a 1977 documentary about the group by David Kimura, included in a 2005 DVD published by the Japanese-American National Museum in connection with its “Big Drum: Taiko in the United States” exhibition. (2005)

Given that Otsuka reports that the group was called the San Francisco Taiko Doukoukai at the beginning of its activities, it can be assumed that the change happened sometime in the mid- or late-1970s.

[10] http://www.sftaiko.com/the-essence-of-taiko/ (Accessed October 1, 2017)

A New Direction: Kodo and The Path to “Irodori”

When members of Ondekoza came to the United States in 1975 to run the Boston Marathon and perform a series of concerts, the tour started a long relationship between members of the Sado-based group and the North American taiko performance community. As the United States and Canada became a primary tour destination for the group, first as Ondekoza and later as Kodo, members came to rely heavily on the support of the growing number of taiko groups that were emerging across the continent. In an interview for the “Kodo in America” segment of Big Drum: Taiko in the United States documentary, Kinnara Taiko founding member Reverend Mas Kodani remembers how Ondekoza would run from the apartments where they were staying to the Senshin Buddhist Temple for rehearsals, then to the theater for a performance (2005). Meanwhile, in Kodo’s 30th Anniversary retrospective book, Kodo members acknowledge that American groups “deeply supported [them] in various ways since Ondekoza’s first North American tour” (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 96)

This connection not only built a support network for the group whenever it came to North America, but also provided the foundation for ongoing artistic partnerships. Several members of San Jose Taiko toured with Kodo during their first tour of the United States in 1982, then traveled back to Sado with the group to continue training for several months.[1] Later that decade, in 1987, San Jose Taiko was invited by Den Tagayasu to present joint concert programs in Japan with his new incarnation of Ondekoza, an experience that PJ Hirabayashi cites as being a large factor in the group’s decision to become a professional organization.[2] On the other side, Kodo members single out San Jose Taiko as having a large impact on the original Ondekoza members upon their first encounter:

When we saw their [San Jose Taiko] performance for the first time, with their bright, carefree, and expressions overflowing with joy that was the complete opposite of us who were simply devoted to pursing a straight line to our goals, it had a huge impact on the members; at the same time, we felt a deep sense of relief. (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 96)

Over time, these feelings of relief and joy would make their way onto the stage, helping the members move away from a stoic image dominated by the group’s past as Ondekoza and towards a new identity as Kodo.

This evolution was spurred on by an influx of new members into the group in the early 1980s, including some who participated in the first “Kodo Summer School” in 1981. Among those who joined the group during this period was Saito Eiichi, whose stage presence is described on Kodo’s own webpage as “always with a smiling face and teeming with exuberance.”[3]

Saito Eiichi with members of Blue Man Group. A screenshot from the 2012 DVD “Blue Man Group Meets Kodo,” published in 2012 by WOWOW INC. (Kodo 2012)

Another member who joined during this time was Leonard Eto. He was born in New York to Japanese musician parents; his father, Eto Kimio, was a koto player who established a vibrant career playing with musicians such as Harry Belafonte and Leopold Stokowski.[4] Leonard Eto was with Kodo from 1984 to 1992, during which time he became the group’s music director and one of the primary composers. Just as Hayashi Eitetsu helped to shaped the artistic direction of Ondekoza in the 1970s, Eto would help to guide Kodo into new artistic directions in the 1980s. From the almost stoic devotion demonstrated by the members at the beginning of their Ondekoza careers, the Kodo performance style would come to include a sense of playfulness and happiness, embracing the feeling of “overflowing with joy” that they saw in San Jose Taiko in the mid-1970s.

This joyous feeling is epitomized in Eto’s work “Irodori” (彩 “Colors”). Composed in 1990, “Irodori” quickly became a staple of Kodo’s repertoire, heralding a new composition style that is still followed by group members today. It not only reflected the change in Kodo’s demeanor, however, one later described as “a sense of musical freedom that rivaled the strictness they had held since Ondekoza” (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 82). “Irodori” was the culmination of many different musical movements taking place within Kodo’s repertoire in the 1980s. Eto incorporated a number of instruments and performance practices that Kodo were experimenting with, leading to a new style of performance that was quite different from that performed by the group when they were known in the 1970s as “Ondekoza.”

New Instruments, New Possibilities

Since Oguchi Daihachi first brought his friends together to learn what would later become “Suwa Ikazuchi,” the taiko ensemble had been comprised of three primary drums: chū-daiko, ō-daiko, and shime-daiko. Both Oguchi and other groups later augmented this with narimono like chappa and atarigane. Towards the end of the 1970s, Ondekoza members added their own contribution to the kumidaiko ensemble: the okedō-daiko. The group began using the drum in performances such as their collaboration with the rock band Down Town Boogie-Woogie Band, documented in the 1982 documentary “ZA ONDEKOZA” (「ざ・ 鬼太鼓座」). A scene from the beginning of the film features an extended jam featuring members of both groups, with Ondekoza members playing chappa, two okedō-daiko, and a small taiko set made up of two shime-daiko, one okedō-daiko on a stand, and an ō-daiko. The two okedō-daiko being played by group members were slung over the shoulders using a strap, hanging at the players’ sides and hit using a pair of bachi on the front head.

Ondekoza using an okedō-daiko in concert with the Down Town Boogie-Woogie Band. A screenshot from the 2017 Blu-ray release of the 1981 documentary “Za Ondekoza.”

This usage of the okedō-daiko drew from Ondekoza’s studies of the drum dance Kanatsu-ryū Yanagawa shishi-odori (金津流梁川獅子躍).  Originating in the city of Oshu in Iwate Prefecture, this drum dance began as a Shinto ritual performed at the Matsuo Shrine in the city. During the dance, the performers dress in elaborate costumes that include red deer masks and long bundles of wood and bamboo called sasara (簓) on their back. They also carry small okedō-daiko with horse skin heads that are approximately one foot deep and slightly wider in diameter. The dancers sing and dance as they hit the drums with flat bachi, occasionally quickly bending over during the dance so the sasara can forcefully hit the ground.

Kodo members learned this drum dance in 1980 from Mr. Hirano Yukio both on Sado and in Oshu (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 109). By the end of 1982, they were performing in concert, as evidenced by the inclusion of “Shishi-Odori” in the Berkeley, CA concert on November 2, 1982 released on cassette in 1983 as Kodo II LIVE IN CALIFORNIA (Kodo, KODO-002). This version of the dance was later incorporated by Leonard Eto into a composition called “LION,” the setting for which is described in the following manner in the liner notes for the 1990 album Irodori (CBS/Sony Records, CSCL 1525):

“This music contains thoughts of Africa where the roots of drums are to be found. The rhythm develops into a fierce like wild lions running as fast as they can, kicking the earth strongly.” (Kodo 1990)

In “LION,” three members of Kodo wear costumes similar to that worn by the dancers in Kanatsu-ryū Yanagawa shishi-odori, missing the large red deer masks but still with the sasara attached to their backs.

Kodo members performing “Lion.” A screenshot from the 1992 VHS “Kodo,” published by Sony Music Entertainment, Inc. (Kodo 1992)

“LION” opens with an ostinato by four drummers on one nagadō-daiko – referred to in Kodo’s materials as a miya-daiko (宮太鼓), an alternate name for the drum that refers to its place in Shinto rite (miya meaning shrine, temple, or palace) – and several hiradō-daiko. Hiradō-daiko are a type of byōuchi-daiko that are much shorter than nagadō-daiko but are often much wider. For “LION” and other pieces, Kodo members used hiradō-daiko that are almost as wide as their large ō-daiko, hitting them both with regular bachi and oversized baseball bat-like bachi. The latter type of bachi are used for continuing notes on the beat or on every two or four beats; in the latter case, the hits are often accompanied by elaborately choreographed swings that enhance the visual spectacle of playing the large drums.

The “LION” ensemble, with hiradō-daiko on both sides. A screenshot from the 1992 VHS “Kodo,” published by Sony Music Entertainment, Inc. (Kodo 1992)

The dancers enter as the four accompanying drummers continue their ostinato. Incorporating many of the shishi-odori movements into their dance, they slap the sasara against the ground several times before they begin to play one of several rhythmic phrases they will repeat throughout the piece, the accompaniment momentarily stops before beginning again. This pattern continues throughout “LION,” with the dancers alternating between dancing and drumming.

“LION” is one of several pieces in the Kodo repertoire for which there exists two primary versions: one performed for recordings and one performed in concert. In the recorded version first released on the 1990 album Irodori, a pair of chappa enters after the first repeat of the drum dancers’ rhythmic phrase. Later on, in the middle of the work, the focus shifts towards a number of non-Japanese instruments like the Indonesian gambang kayu, the chajchas from the Central Andes, the Brazilian ganzá, and the caxixi commonly found in Brazil and across Africa. After a short break by these world instruments, the taiko return to the forefront.

In the concert version, meanwhile, the middle of the piece is quite different. Several of the accompanying drummers move from their drums and pick up other instruments. Two play on larger okedō-daiko of a type used in the pieces “Dyu-Ha” and “Hekiryu-1st” on the first Kodo LP Kodo I (Kodo, KODO-001).[5] Whereas in those pieces the larger okedō-daiko were hung on stands using leather straps, for “LION” a long cloth strap tied to each side of the drum, and the drummers carried them under one arm while hitting with the other.  Meanwhile, a third performer grabs a pair of large cymbals similar to those used during the Chinese lion dance. This variation of the accompanying ensemble plays a brief interlude while the dancers move around the stage. Eventually, the musicians move back to their original positions and begin a variation of the opening ostinato, gradually increasing the speed while the dancers move in a circle as they repeatedly strike the sasara against the ground.

“LION” demonstrates how Kodo members were integrating both Japanese folk performance styles and non-Japanese instruments in the 1980s, something they were doing with other pieces like “Hae.” The hiradō-daiko would come to have a prominent place in Kodo performances, becoming a crucial element of the ensemble. Meanwhile, the okedō-daiko would gain an even greater place within Kodo compositions, influenced as much as by the group’s musical development as by the interactions members would have as they toured around the world. Among the musicians that members met were Samul Nori, a percussion group from South Korea. Like Kodo, Samul Nori was engaged in the transformation of folk music for the concert stage. They arranged for stage performance pungmul nori, a folk genre traditionally performed to ensure and celebrate good rice harvests, and arranged it for the concert stage. Founder Kim Duk Soo and other members took folk music from across South Korea and integrated into their performance style that uses four instruments: kkwaenggwari, a small gong; jing, a large gong; janggu, an hourglass-shaped drum; and buk, a small barrel drum.

During one of their meetings, Kodo member Saito Eiichi tried out the janggu and was struck by the manner in which the drummer plays both sides of the drum (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 111). Members saw the potential for this style to be adapted for the okedō-daiko, and began experimenting. Eventually, with Eto at the lead, they adapted the construction to make it larger than that used by the dancers in “Shishi-Odori” and “LION” but slightly smaller than those used by the background ensemble in “LION.” Inspiration for this change came from folk drumming at the Tozan Festival of Iwakisan Shrine (岩木山神社賑祭) in Aomori Prefecture (Asano Foundation for Taiko Culture Research 2002, 21).

In time, this variation of the okedō-daiko became known as the katsugi okedō-daiko (かつぎ桶太鼓), the word “katsugi” coming from the verb “katsugu” (担ぐ) which means “to carry on one’s back or shoulders.” The katsugi okedō-daiko was first put on display in Leonard Eto’s composition “Yu-Karak” (游カラク), composed in 1988 and recorded on the album “UBU-SUNA” released that same year (Kodo 1988). It’s in Eto’s 1990 composition “Irodori,” however, that the style was made famous. “Irodori” was the culmination of much of the work that Kodo members had been putting into the evolution of their performances, opening the way towards a new style not incorporated not only new musical elements but also a new perspective.

“Irodori”

Within “Irodori,” Leonard Eto brought together many of the musical developments and instruments explored by Kodo members during the 1980s. This included not only the okedō-daiko and hiradō-daiko, but also innovations being made in the use of chappa by member Kaneko Ryutaro. Kaneko began to experiment with different ways of creating sounds using the cymbals, creating a complex sonic palette that could be integrated in Kodo’s new works.

Meanwhile, Eto also made use of the changing role of the shinobue within Kodo’s compositions. The bamboo flute had been a part of performances since the beginning of Ondekoza’s activities in the early 1970s, when it would be featured in arrangements of festival music like “Yatai-bayashi.” In the mid-1980s, the shinobue became more prominent through its usage in original compositions by Yamaguchi Motofumi like “Michi,” from the album UBU-SUNA (1988) and “Kariuta” from Blessing of the Earth (1989) (Kodo 1988, 1989). These pieces featured original melodies by Yamaguchi with either minimal or no drum accompaniment, taking the shinobue from the quasi-accompanying role it had in works like “Yatai-bayashi” and “O-daiko” and moving it into the spotlight.

“Irodori,” meanwhile, took advantage of the many musical explorations upon which Kodo members were embarking during the 1980s. Its difference from those works that came before is immediately apparent. The piece opens with a short introduction by the drums and chappa, walking on stage in a line with smiles on their faces (a contrast to the stoicism that often accompanied Ondekoza performances). Following a brief interplay between the two instrument types, the okedō-daiko drummers begin playing an accented ostinato. The chappa adds an accented rhythm, while the hiradō-daiko solidifies the tempo by hitting on beat one of each measure. In the 1990 recording of the piece, this ostinato accompanies a brief solo by an ō-daiko player (Kodo 1990). During the performance of the piece captured for a 1992 VHS release, however, the ostinato flows directly into the first statement of the shinobue melody. This melody, performed by two players in unison, occurs over an ostinato provided by the okedō-daiko and shime-daiko:

The primary fue melody in “Irodori”

During this fue/taiko ostinato, the chappa occasionally mirrors the accented ostinato but also playing in counterpoint, rubbing the cymbals together so they buzz in between the accents of the okedō-daiko. He also adds a visual flourish, drawing attention to his movements and playing to the crowd to a small degree. All the while, the hiradō-daiko players continues to hit on beat one of each measure. Even this has a hint of the theatrical, as the drummers whirl the bachi over the heads or take a bit windup before hitting the drum. As a result, the entire stage environment is much lighter and freer than can be found in pieces like “Miyake” or “LION.”

After several repeats of the primarily melodic phrase, a four-beat closing pattern by the okedō-daiko players wraps up this section and serves to transition into the next section featuring a series of improvised solos by various members, the specifics of which depend on the performance. The 1990 CD recording features an ō-daiko solo, while the 1992 video recording is more elaborate. It begins with several solos by okedō-daiko, first independent and then playing off of each other. These okedō-daiko solos further the light-hearted nature of “Irodori,” with the drummers playfully interacting with each other. A degree of good-spirited one-upmanship permeates the improvisations, as the soloists are watched by the rest of the ensemble with large smiles on their faces.

Once the okedō-daiko solos are finished, the ō-daiko players takes a turn, one of the few times in the Kodo repertoire apart from “O-daiko” that there is a solo improvisation on the ō-daiko in the middle of a piece.[6] After this, the shinobue players return for simultaneous individual improvised variations of the initial melody. As they play, a dancer comes on to the stage and begins a hand dance.

A restatement of the opening melodies serves to cue the entire ensemble, which then reenters for the final section as the as the dancer brings out a fan with a flourish (sometimes accompanied by confetti). The shinobue players repeat the melody over and over while the dancer moves around the stage, accompanied by several more performers waving poles with paper streams on top. Even these dancers get a chance to show off, spinning their poles around their necks and showing the various ways they can keep the festival-like atmosphere going. All the while, the drummers continue the ostinato, with several okedō-daiko again starting dueling improvisations. The music reaches a fever pitch, until finally the piece ends with a bit visual flourish and a single unison note.

The “Irodori” Effect

Even as “Irodori” was the end result of Kodo’s work over the course of the 1980s, it was also an experiment by the group. In particular, the combination of a wind instrument melody and drum accompaniment was surprisingly unusual within Kodo’s repertoire. Of course, this grouping is standard in festival music, and thus can be found in arrangements like “Yatai-bayashi.” However, in this piece the stage focus is on the drumming, and the shinobue player stands towards the rear of the ensemble. Indeed, the matsuri-bayashi pieces performed by Kodo featured quite visually striking drumming styles, from Chichibu yatai-bayashi (“Yatai-bayashi”) to Miyake-jima Kamitsuki mikoshi-daiko (“Miyake”) and Kanatsu-ryū Yanagawa shishi-odori (“Shishi-odori”/”LION”). It could be argued that “Nishinomai” – the bon odori arrangement first featured on the Kodo II album – is shinobue-heavy, but given that it is primarily a dance piece even here the emphasis is on the visual element of performance. Rather, one has to look at Yamaguchi Motofumi’s pieces like “Hae” and “Michi” – the latter from the 1988 album UBU-SUNA – to find pieces in which melodic instruments are at the forefront.

And yet, despite its departure from what had come before, “Irodori” and its festival atmosphere was immediately well received by audiences. It soon became either the ending piece or the encore for Kodo concerts in the 1990s. Eto’s work was particularly popular as the closing piece at Kodo’s Earth Celebration music festival, held every summer since 1988. Today, it can often been seen and heard as a farewell piece played by Kodo members as Earth Celebration attendees return to the main Japanese island of Honshu on a ferry.

Perhaps in recognition of this popularity, the basic structure of “Irodori” – slung katsugi okedō-daiko serving as rhythmic foundation and accompaniment for a fue melody – has been used for many other pieces in Kodo’s repertoire. [7] Until the most recent tours created under the direction of Bando Tamasaburo III, the closing piece for a Kodo concert was, if not “Irodori,” an “Irodori”-esque piece. In 1995, Kodo released a video of their performance at the Acropolis of Athens (Kodo 1995). The closing piece for this concert is “Akabanar” (「アカバナー」, a Okinawan word meaning “Hibiscus”) composed by Kaneko Ryutaro. Like “Irodori,” it opens with a shinobue melody accompanied by okedō-daiko, hiradō-daiko, and chappa.[8] This then evolves in an extended jam on all the instruments.

More recently, “Mata Ashita” (「また明日」, “Tomorrow”) – composed by Ishizuka Mitsuru for Kodo’s Heartbeat Project in support of relief efforts in Tohoku following the 2011 earthquake – was the closing piece for the 2012 Honoka tour in Japan.

The “Irodori”-style piece has also been incorporated into the repertoire of other taiko groups around the world, proving that Leonard Eto hit on a song style with lasting audience appeal.

Meanwhile, the prominence given to the katsugi okedō-daiko as a vehicle for rhythmic melody and soloistic expression has been embraced by other members as they have written new pieces for the ensemble. There are a number of works now within the Kodo repertoire that feature either okedō-daiko alone or okedō-daiko, hiradō-daiko, and chappa – that is, the “Irodori” ensemble minus a shinobue. These pieces often highlight not only the movement possibilities of the okedō-daiko – the simple ability to move around the stage while playing – but also the choreographic possibilities in hitting both sides of the drum in a manner modeled after the Korean changgo.

Twenty-seven years after “Irodori” first premiered, then, its impact is still being felt. Not only is it the culmination of the musical explorations upon which Kodo members embarked upon in the 1980s, but it also represents the tonal shift members were seeking. In searching for a “taiko overflowing with joy,” Kodo members have explored and continue to search for not only different compositional styles and instrument combinations, but also collaborations and performance opportunities that offer a chance to expand the boundaries of what is possible within contemporary taiko performance. The beginning of this article features a screenshot of the group’s 2011 collaboration with the Blue Man Group, during which Saito Eiichi gets suited up and plays drums filled with paint. This collaboration and scenario would have been unthinkable 30 years ago, but now this sense of playfulness is almost expected of the group. By creating a festival atmosphere on stage that allowed for fun and self-expression, Leonard Eto helped change the image of Kodo forever.

Bibliography

  1. Big Drum: Taiko in the United States: Japanese American National Museum. DVD.

Asano Foundation for Taiko Culture Research. 2002. Wadaiko Ga Wakaru Hon 和太鼓がわかる本. Edited by Mieko Kono. Fukudome, Hakusan, Ishikawa, Japan: Asano Foundation for Taiko Culture Research.

Kodo. 1988. Ubu-suna: CBS/Sony Records. CD.

Kodo. 1989. Blessing of the Earth: CBS/Sony Records. CD.

Kodo. 1990. Irodori: CBS/Sony Records. CD.

Kodo. 1992. Kodo: Sony Music Entertainment Inc. VHS.

Kodo. 1995. Live at Acropolis: Sony Music Entertainment (Japan), Inc. DVD.

Kodo. 2012. Blue Man Group Meets Kodo: WOWOW INC. DVD.

Kodo Cultural Foundation. 2011. Inochi Moyashite, Tatakeyo. -Kodo 30-Nen no Kiseki – いのちもやして、たたけよ。-鼓童30年の軌跡ー. Tokyo: Shuppan Bunka Sha Corporation.

Footnotes

[1] Roy Hirabayashi, Personal interview, November 3, 2012

[2] As stated by Hirabayashi during a discussion panel at the 2013 East Coast Taiko Conference discussion panel. February 2, 2013, Brown University.

[3] http://www.kodo.or.jp/ws/20080919juku_eiichi_en.html (accessed January 30, 2017)

[4] http://www.leoeto.com/en/profile/ (accessed January 30, 2017)

[5] See the previous article for more about these pieces.

[6] The original version of “Monochrome” does feature one, but that version has rarely been performed since it was first premiered by Ondekoza in the mid-1970s; even today, this inclusion of the ō-daiko remains a rarity.

[7] Other examples – beyond works composed by Eto – include Yamaguchi Motofumi’s “Niji no Nagori” (“Rainbow Trances,” composed in 1999), and Ishizuka Mitsuru’s “Mata Ashita” (“Tomorrow,” composed in 2011).

[8] It’s worth noting, however, that the version of “Akabanar” recorded for the 1996 album Ibuki is quite different than this performance

Taiko in a Recorded Medium: Ondekoza and Kodo

For the first two decades of the history of contemporary taiko performance, the artistry of groups like Osuwa Daiko and Sukeroku Taiko could only be experienced live, with a few exceptions. Osuwa Daiko was featured on television a few times in the late 1950s and early 1960s on NHK, the Japanese nationality public broadcasting station. Oguchi Daihachi and the other members of the group made several appearances on the show “Nihon no Dentō” (「日本の伝統」), a program that highlighted regional folk art from across Japan. Meanwhile, they also performed as part of the 1959 NHK National Song and Dance Festival at the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium. And, of course, the group achieved its greatest publicity to date when it appeared as part of the Opening ceremonies for the 1964 Tokyo Olympics.

These appearances, however, were aberrations, as live – and local – performance remained the primary way that audiences experience contemporary taiko performance. This started to change in the 1970s, though, when Ondekoza founder/producer Den Tagayasu developed numerous multimedia projects for the group. As he explored the various avenues through which Ondekoza’s name could become better known, he in turn also helped to move contemporary taiko performance into new mediums, including movies, documentaries, and audio recordings.

Recordings by Ondekoza and other taiko groups offer a unique glimpse into the history of contemporary taiko performance. When studying the development of the genre, one is simultaneously helped and hindered by the way that the genre has grown. As many of the founders of groups like Ondekoza/Kodo are still active today, there is a living oral history that can be accessible to players and scholars alike. However, unlike in many musical cultures such as Western art music in which the prominence of written scores and parts allows for works to be studied centuries after a work is first performed, contemporary taiko repertoire is largely orally-transmitted. There are very few scores of works available to the public, and those have generally been published by composers who were already working within the field of Western art music.

Recordings, then, are an essential part of the study of contemporary taiko performance. They are especially important when exploring taiko music history, for even though many pieces are still being performed decades after their composition, they have been arranged or adapted to suit the desires of different audiences and performers over the years. By examining historical recordings, however, it possible can see how a piece was first performed.

The groups Ondekoza and Kodo are perfect subjects for shedding light this process. The records and cassettes that they produced in the 1970s and early 1980s provide insights into how they were developing their compositions and performance styles. They include both familiar pieces like “O-daiko” and “Yatai-bayashi” and lesser-known pieces that have not survived the passage of time. By examining these recordings, then, listeners can experience how taiko performance was evolving in the 1970s and 1980s.[1]

Ondekoza’s Multimedia Explorations

Ondekoza was one of the first groups to explore the possibilities of contemporary taiko performance in audio and video recording mediums. In 1974, filming began on a documentary entitled “Sado no Kuni – Ondekoza” (「佐渡國鬼太鼓座」¸ “Ondekoza from Sado”).[2] Directly by prominent Japanese New Wave filmmaker Shinoda Masahiro, it premiered in 1975, the same year in which the group made its American debut in Boston and European debut in Paris. A second documentary was filmed in 1975, although it was never completed, and a third – “Za Ondekoza” (「ざ・鬼太鼓座」, “The Ondekoza”) finished production in 1979 (and premiered in 1981).[3]

Ondekoza was active not only in visual mediums but in aural ones as well, recording and releasing three albums over a three-year period in the latter half of the decade. The first album, Ondekoza I (1977, Victor KVX-1037), reflected Ondekoza’s touring repertoire at the time. It begins with “O-daiko” (「大太鼓」), offering a glimpse into how this piece was first conceived and performed by group members. It begins with sparse hits on the ō-daiko and chappa underneath a shakuhachi melody. The ō-daiko gradually takes over, developing into the now-familiar improvisation by one player accompanied by a second player on the other side of the drummer and the chappa player. The soloist is given a brief respite towards the end of the piece while a shinobue enters, before the piece ends with a faster improvisation on the ō-daiko accompanied by atarigane.

Two melodic works follow the bombastic splendor of “O-daiko.” Succeeding “O-daiko” on Side A of the LP is “Ajikan” (「阿字観」), a standard of shakuhachi repertoire named after a Buddhist meditation technique. Side B, meanwhile, opens with “Tsugaru-jamisen” (「津軽三味線」), a performance of a style of shamisen playing from the Tsugaru peninsula in northern Japan. These pieces not only provide a contrast to the drum-heavy works that open and close the LP, but also provide insight to the diverse performance styles studied by Ondekoza members and presented in concerts around the world.

Ondekoza I concludes with Ondekoza’s arrangement of Chichibu Yatai-bayashi. This now-familiar arrangement has largely remained the same over the years: chū-daiko players trade ō-nami/ko-nami segments before the shime-daiko players begin their tamaire solo. After the tamaire, the chū-daiko return for one more ō-nami/ko-nami cycle before the piece concludes with the bukkiri.[4]

Ondekoza I stands out not only for its presentation of Ondekoza standards and pieces that have not quite survived the passage of time within the repertoire, but also for the reprinting of an English-language review of the groups Berlin debut at the Metamusik festival on October 4, 1976:

This article demonstrates that the selections presented on the LP were a fair representation of Ondekoza’s repertoire at the time, capturing the essence of the group’s style through the performance of traditional Japanese folk and art music songs. This practice would continue in the next album, Ondekoza 2, released in 1978 (Victor, KVX-1038).

Much like the first album, Ondekoza 2 features melodic pieces sandwiched in between drum-heavy works; however, this recording differs in that the drum-heavy works are not arrangements but original compositions.  The LP opens with Ishii Maki’s commissioned work “Monochrome II,” a slight variation on the “Monochrome” that is still performed today. This version includes an extended ō-daiko solo in the middle of the work and the inclusion of the ō-daiko in the quoting of “Yatai-bayashi” at the end of the piece. These elements can be found in the original score for “Monochrome” that can be purchased through music vendors, but this version is rarely performed today.

Following “Monochrome II” is  an arrangement of regional festival music, “Yumigahama” (「弓ヶ浜」), festival music featuring taiko and shinobue from the Yumigahama region of Shizuoka Prefecture. Next comes another famous work for a melodic instrument, the shamisen piece “Futozao” (「太棹」, also the name of a specific type of  shamisen).

Ondekoza 2 concludes with “Mikuni Gensōkyoku” (「三國幻想曲」, “Three Kingdom Fantasy”), an extended improvisation on the ō-daiko accompanied by chappa, and also featuring melodies on shinobue and shamisen. It has much in common with “O-daiko,” but there is less separation of melodic and rhythmic instruments. The work opens with ō-daiko and shinobue playing at the same time, soon joined by the chappa. After several minutes the focus shifts to the shamisen, quietly accompanied by the ō-daiko. About halfway through the piece, the ō-daiko takes center stage, soloing while the shinobue player improvises in the background. The piece ends in a manner similar to “O-daiko,” with a brief respite provided by the shinobue before it concludes with improvisation on the ō-daiko, albeit an improvisation with much less fervor than the “O-daiko” version.

Just as Ondekoza I provided a glimpse into Ondekoza’s history through the inclusion of the review from The International Herald Tribute, Ondekoza 2 offers an indication of how contemporary taiko performance was evolving. The liner notes feature an extended article about the recording of the album, including diagrams of both instrument and microphone placement:

These liner notes offer a look at how Ondekoza and Victor recording engineers were working to translate what was primary a live performance art into one that could be successfully captured for an LP.

On both Ondekoza I and Ondekoza 2, the listener can hear not only how Ondekoza was evolving, but also how the genre was changing. “Monochrome” was unlike anything composed to that point for contemporary taiko ensemble, and yet it existed alongside arrangements of festival music and standards of melodic instrument repertoire. This evolution is further put on display in 1980’s Ondekoza-2 (Victor, KVX-1061). Surprisingly, there are only two songs on the album: “Sōgaku Improvisation” (「走楽インプロヴィゼーション」, “Running Music Improvisation”) and “Kaigara-Koishiya” (「貝がら恋しや」, “A Loving Look at a Shell”). “Sōgaku Improvisation” – an original composition featuring concurrent improvisations on ō-daiko, shime-daiko, shamisen, and shakuhachi – is in many ways a continuation of the work done in “O-daiko” and “Mikuni Gensōkyoku.” Liner notes on the back of the album describe it as an attempt to show through music the reason why Ondekoza members run (Ondekoza 1980).

“Kaigara-Koishiya,” meanwhile, is perhaps the more interesting of the two pieces, written in 1979 for a joint performance with the rock band Boogie Woogie Down Town Band. It features a chorus singing two songs based on folk melodies from Tottori Prefecture. These songs are accompanied by a variety of melodic and percussion instruments, including three koto (「琴」, a bridged 13-stringed zither), assorted percussion instruments, gongs, taiko, and – most unusually – an Indonesian gamelan (an ensemble consisting of various metallophones and gongs). The koto is a constant throughout the piece, serving as both melody and accompaniment for the voices, while the rest of the instruments accompany the various melodies. “Kaigara-Koishiya” is unlike anything else in the repertoire developed by Ondekoza in the 1970s, bringing together Japanese folk music (the folk melodies) and instruments from both Japanese (the koto) and non-Japanese (the gamelan) art music.

From Ondekoza to Kodo

The musical explorations demonstrated on Ondekoza-3 were a harbinger of things to come, showing the directions that Ondekoza members were looking to explore. However, the release of the album in 1981 came at a time of great turmoil for Ondekoza and its members. As the 1970s closed, members felt that Den was placing too much time – and money – into non-musical projects like the documentaries, and not into the artistic growth of the ensemble. Eventually, in 1980, they decided to part ways with Den, who took the group’s drums and moved to Nagasaki. The remaining members stayed on Sado and founded a new management organization, Kitamaesen (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 67). However, they still had performance obligations to fulfill booked under the name “Ondekoza,” and so they embarked on a series of concerts celebrating the 10th Anniversary of the group.

The program for the 10th Anniversary concerts included a mix of old favorites and new pieces. An April performance in Tokyo’s Yomiuri Hall, for example, included the debut of several new pieces that the group had been working on even as the relationship with Den Tagayasu was deteriorating. One piece that was debuted was “Shishi-Odori” (「獅子踊り」), an arrangement of a regional drum dance from northern Japan, described in the following manner within the Kodo 30th Anniversary book Inochi Moyashite, Tatakeyo. -Kodo 30-Nen no Kiseki –:

The foundation is the National Intangible Cultural Heritage “Kanatsuru Yanagawa Shishi Odori,” from the city of Esashi in Iwate Prefecture. It has a history of 250 years as a ritual performance art of Matsuo Shrine. It is a performance art featuring the trinity of carrying a horse-skin okedō-daiko under the arm, accompanying it with the hands, and singing while wearing a mask with deer horns attached and carrying on the back two (3-4 meter long) sasara. “Shishi” means “deer.” The deer is an object of faith as a messenger of the gods, and its origins as a performing art showing a deer playing in the rice fields and the funeral rites of a deer is evident. This dance, in which the performer jumps up high and occasionally bends greatly forward, striking the sasara on the ground, is both heroic and gorgeous.

In 1980, performers encountered the beautiful and compelling dance, and invited first Mr. Hirano Yukio, and then a total of 6 people, to Sado and underwent instruction. To this day we continue an exchange as pupils. (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 108-109)

The other piece debuted on the April 1981 concert was “Soh-Rengue” (「双蓮花」, “Pair of Lotus Flowers”), composed by Ondekoza founding member Hayashi Eitetsu. While “Shishi-odori” was in many ways a continuation of past activities for the group – that is, an arrangement of regional festival drumming and dancing – “Soh-Rengue” was in many respects a dramatic jump forward in the group’s performance style, meshing together a wide variety of elements both musical and visual. It combines hand-dancing (te-odori) from the Tsugaru region with musical performance on koto, percussion instruments like woodblocks and bells, and – most surprisingly – Caribbean steel drums. Within Kodo’s 30th Anniversary book, “Soh-Rengue” is described simply as a “work in which steel drums and such are combined with Tsugaru te-odori and reconstructed” (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 67). However, the notes included with the 1982 album Kodo I (discussed below), are more descriptive:

SOH-RENGUE means two lotus flowers. The image of this music is scenery filled with soft sunlight and fluttering petals. It is played as an accompaniment for dancing. Only the melody of the theme was composed and afterwards improvised with dancing. We used woodblocks, bells, koto (13 stringed instrument) and steel drum. (Kodo 1982)

“Soh-Rengue” builds upon Ondekoza-3’s “Kaigara-Koishiya,” with the koto once more featured as the primary melodic instrument accompanied by assorted percussion instruments and a non-Japanese instrument. This time, however, the secondary melodic instrument is the steel drum, which has a more prominent role than that held by the gamelan in “Kaigara-Koishiya.” They function as both accompaniment and counter-melody to the koto.

The piece opens with a slow melody expressed by the koto and steel drums. Woodblocks and bells gradually enter with brief flourishes before they start playing a rhythmic accompaniment for the melody. Eventually, the woodblocks take over for a while, with woodblocks of different pitches offering both rhythmic and quasi-melodic elements as they gradually increase the tempo. Once the woodblocks establish the new tempo, the koto and steel drums enter at a faster pace, before the piece ends with a brief return to the opening feel.

While no videos of the dance performed during “Soh-Rengue” exist, many recordings of Tsugaru te-odori have been uploaded to video sharing sites, providing an example of what audiences might have seen during this tour:

Even in a period of great change, Ondekoza members kept their basic performance formula the same, combining festival music arrangements with original compositions. However, as the 10th anniversary tour wrapped up the members encountered another hurdle to overcome, when Den asked them to stop using the Ondekoza name. After moving to Nagasaki,  he had formed a ‘new’ Ondekoza, and as he had the legal right to the name, the original members left on Sado had to find a new name (Bender 2012, 96). Founding member Hayashi Eitetsu proposed the name “Kodo,” combining the Japanese characters for “drum” (ko) and “child” () in an effort to reflect the idea of the sound of the taiko being similar to the heartbeat within a mother’s womb (drawing upon stories he had heard of children falling asleep at Ondekoza concerts during ō-daiko solos) (Hayashi 1999, 53).  The other members liked this idea, and they decided upon the new name “Kodo” for their new group.

“Kodo I”

In the summer of 1981, the former members of Ondekoza gave the final performance as “Ondekoza” and began activities as “Kodo.” In August, they held the first “Kodo Summer School,” a gathering much in the spirit of the initial Ondekoza summer gathering held in 1970. Then, in September, they made their official debut as Kodo at the Berlin Arts Festival. While in Germany, they debuted a new composition by Ishii Maki – “Dyu-Ha,” originally commissioned by the group when they were still Ondekoza (as suggested by the original full name of the composition: “Dyu-Ha, for Ondekoza”) (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 69).

After returning to Japan for a performance at the end of September at the Ikebukuro Sunshine Theater in Tokyo (a concert for which tickets had already been sold as an Ondekoza performance), the group officially announced their renaming as “Kodo.” After playing a few more shows across Japan, they recorded their first album under the new name over two days in December 1981 at the Iruma City Community Hall in Iruma, Saitama Prefecture.[5] They named the album Kodo I (Kodo, KODO-001), following the naming scheme used in Ondekoza’s albums.

Kodo I represented a new start for the group, featuring compositions composed either by members or specifically for the group. Indeed, much like Ondekoza-3 there are no arrangements of festival music on this album.  The first piece on the album is “Kodo-Kukai” (「鼓童空海」, “Kodo’s Empty Ocean”) Hayashi Eitetsu’s new take on the ō-daiko solo. The piece features many of the same elements found in Ondekoza’s “O-daiko” – atarigane and chappa accompaniment along with a shinobue – but also includes a few new elements. It opens with a few notes on singing bowls  – standing bells used in Buddhist practice – as the ō-daiko player strikes intermittently. A chorus then enters, singing a wordless melody for a brief period before the primary ō-daiko improvisation begins (accompanied by chappa, shinobue, and chū-daiko).

Following “Kodo-Kukai” on Side 1 of the LP is “Soh-Rengue,” a melodic counterpoint to the rhythmic power of Hayashi’s ō-daiko solo.

Side 2 of “Kodo I” opens with “Dyu-Ha” (「入破」), described as follows on the back cover of the American release of the LP:

The “group of Taiko” mentioned in the description is a kumi-daiko grouping of drums like that first developed by Oguchi Daihachi with Osuwa Daiko in the 1950s and 1960s. However, the Kodo kumi-daiko set differs from the Osuwa Daiko version through its use of okedō-daiko (桶胴太鼓, “bucket-bodied drum”), a type of shime-daiko used in many drum dances (such as the Shishi-odori debuted at the Ondekoza 10th Anniversary concert). Hayashi Eitetsu worked with Kodo’s drum supplier Asano Taiko to create a stand in which the drum is suspended using leather drums and placed so the player can hit it much in the same way as a nagadō-daiko.

As seen in the picture above, for “Dyu-ha” several shime-daiko are placed in a V-shape with the point at the front of the space, behind which stands the okedō-daiko set (often comprised of two okedō-daiko and one or two shime-daiko). The musical content of the piece has much in common with the aleatoric sections of “Monochrome,” in that there are assigned rhythms and timing guidelines, but the execution of both is left up to the players.

While in concert “Dyu-Ha” is performed on its own, on Kodo I the group blends the end of Ishii’s work with the beginning of “Hekiryu-1st” (「碧流一番」, “The First Blue Wave”) a composition by Hayashi Eitetsu and Fujimoto Yoshikazu described in the following manner in the Kodo I liner notes:

While “Kodo-Kukai” opened the LP with an extended improvisation on the ō-daiko, “Hekiryu-1st” is an improvisation by two players on the taiko set. One player provides an accompanying ostinato while the other improvises on the set, the players take turns before improvising simultaneously while at the same time providing a quasi-ostinato rhythmic foundation.

As a whole, Kodo I offers listeners a glimpse into the directions that Kodo members looked to evolve their performance style and repertoire. With Ishii’s contribution, the “new” organization continued an existing musical relationship, while the inclusion of works by group members gave them direct involvement in their own musical development. They would not build upon this step forward for a short while, however, for even as they released the album at the beginning in 1982, members took an eight-month break in performing, traveling to various parts in Japan to learn new performance styles much as they had a decade earlier under the name Ondekoza.

When they returned to performing later that year, they had a much different look, not just in terms of the music they were playing but the make-up of the ensemble. A new generation of performers joined following the summer 1981 Kodo Summer School while one prominent performer departed: Hayashi Eitetsu. After a decade at the center of the group’s activities – during which time he was the primary force behind many of the arrangements and the development of works like “O-daiko,” not to mention the three pieces by him on the first Kodo LP – Hayashi decided to embark on a new journey as a taiko soloist. Following Hayashi’s departure, “Soh-Rengue” and “Hekiryu-1st” disappeared from the Kodo performance repertoire, and the group replaced “Kodo-Kukai” with the older “O-daiko,” now with Fujimoto Yoshikazu as the featured soloist.

“Kodo II”

Kodo members revealed the results of their eight months of research and retooling of repertoire first when they returned to touring in 1982, and then in 1983 when they released their second album, Kodo II LIVE IN CALIFORNIA (Kodo, KODO-002). They recorded the album live at Zellerbach Hall at the University of California Berkeley on November 2, 1982, and released it in 1983 as a cassette.

While some Ondekoza classics are present on the program presented in California – “O-daiko,” “Yatai-bayashi,” “Monochrome” – much of the program consisted of works the group had recently added to their performance repertoire. The concert opens with “Miyake,” the now-famous arrangement of festival drumming from Miyake-jima.[6] This is followed by “Nishimonai” (「西馬音内」) an arrangement of bon odori from the Nishinomai section of Ugomachi, Akita Prefecture. After these two regional arrangements comes three original compositions: “Monochrome,” “Hae” (「南風」, “Southern Wind”), and “Dyu-Ha.” Side 2 of Kodo II opens with “Shishi-odori,” which is followed by “Ayako-mai” (「綾子舞」, “Dance of Figured Satin”), a dance from Niigata Prefecture. After the two dances comes “Izumo-gaku” (「出雲楽」, “Music from Izumo”), a short piece for fue and ō-daiko that leads into “O-daiko,” before the program concludes with “Yatai-bayashi.”

Out of all the new additions to the Kodo repertoire found in this program, “Hae” – composed in 1982 by group member Yamaguchi Motofumi – is perhaps the most interesting, described in the following manner for the 1985 album “Heartbeat Drummers of Japan”:

Hae are the winds which come from the south. Throughout its long history, Japan has been significantly influenced by the southernmost islands. Using the basic tonal scale of Okinawa and the Ryukyu Islands, as well as using a Caribbean instrument, the steel drum, this composition expresses a heartfelt longing for the south. (Kodo 1985)

In “Hae,” Yamaguchi brings together the steel drums first used in “Soh-Rengue” and the southern – that is, Okinawan – influences found in “Hekiryu-1st.” The combination of koto and steel drums from “Soh-Rengue” is this time accompanied by an okedō-daiko. After the steel drums present the tonal scale through a brief ostinato, the koto enters with its own melody before it is joined in counter-melody by the steel drums, with both being accompanied by the okedō-daiko. This opening section is noteworthy not only for the instrumentation, but for its usage of 3/4 time (rarely used in taiko compositions). The okedō-daiko player then begins a 12/8 ostinato over which both melodic players first trade improvisations then start interweaving with the other’s solo, before the piece returns to the original 3/4 koto melody over the steel drum ostinato.

As often will occur during the life of a performing group, “Hae” has disappeared from Kodo’s repertoire. Nevertheless, it shows how group members were experimenting with new musical ideas and, indeed, musical instruments. It was recorded again in 1985 along with “Miyake,” “O-daiko,” “Monochrome,” and another new work called “Chonlima” (composed by the kabuki musician Tosha Roetsu) for the album “Heartbeat Drummers of Japan.”

Kodo’s November 2, 1982 concert in San Francisco – recorded and released as Kodo II LIVE IN CALIFORNIA – indicated the path that the group would take moving forward into the 1980s. The program included old favorites from the Ondekoza era and new pieces, both arrangements and originals. The number of original compositions by members would only continue to grow. Yamaguchi Motofumi followed up “Hae” with three songs on the group’s next album, “UBU-SUNA” (released in 1988). That same album featured a studio recording of “Dyu-ha” and two compositions by Leonard Eto, who joined the group in 1984.

Recordings such as those produced by Ondekoza in the latter half of the 1970s and Kodo in the first half of the 1980s are important to obtaining a greater understanding of how contemporary taiko music grew. They offer a look at an evolving performance ensemble, keeping hold of its roots in festival and music while also expanding the group’s musical horizons. Many of the pieces composed during this era are still part of the repertoire for both Kodo and the new version of Ondekoza, a testament to the artistic direction and vision of the members even amid major organizational change.

Works Cited

Bender, Shawn. 2012. Taiko Boom: Japanese Drumming in Place and Motion Berkeley: University of California Press.

Hayashi, Eitetsu. 1999. “Tokushuu Hayashi Eitetsu Zenshi 1970-2000 特集 林英哲 全史 1970-2000.”  Taikorojii たいころじい [Taikology] 17:9-79.

Kodo. 1982. KODO I: Kodo. LP.

Kodo. 1985. Heartbeat Drummers of Japan: Sheffield Lab, Inc. CD.

Kodo Cultural Foundation. 2011. Inochi Moyashite, Tatakeyo. -Kodo 30-Nen no Kiseki – いのちもやして、たたけよ。-鼓童30年の軌跡ー. Tokyo: Shuppan Bunka Sha Corporation.

Ondekoza. 1980. Ondekoza-3: Victor. LP.

Footnotes

[1] Unfortunately, many of the recordings discussed in this article are out of print. Some can be obtained through online used record stores, however, and to support searches for these products I will be including publisher information.

Due to the wishes of the artists, I will not be posting audio/video examples from the 1970s Ondekoza LPs, or the first two Kodo albums discussed in this album.

[2] “Sado no Kuni” is the old name for the island of Sado.

[3] The Ondekoza documentaries have rarely been seen since the 1970s. However, a showing of the third documentary took placed in Tokyo in November 2016, and this documentary will be released to home video by Shochiku Company Limited in February 2017.

[4] For more about this piece, see Ben’s article about Chichibu yatai-bayashi on Esto es Taiko. https://estoestaiko.com/2015/12/07/chichibu-yatai-bayashi/ (Accessed December 20, 2016)

[5] The location is mistakenly listed on the back cover of the US release as “Irima City Community Hall.”

[6] For more on this piece, see the article by Ben about “Miyake” published on esto es taiko: https://estoestaiko.com/2015/07/10/miyake-kodos-continued-arrangement-of-regional-drumming-styles/ (Accessed December 20, 2016)

O-Daiko

For the original members of Ondekoza, the first years on Sado will filled with learning activities of all kind. Not only were they making their own furniture and bachi and, when possible, growing their own food, they were also creating a concert program to be toured around the world. In order to create their program, they trained in a variety of performance styles both musical and visual. The Tohoku region of Japan was a major source of inspiration, as members learned Iwasaki Onikenbai (岩崎鬼剣舞, a sword dance) and Ōtsugunai-kagura (大償神楽, Shinto theatrical dance) from Iwate Prefecture, and Tsugaru Te-odori (津軽手踊り, a hand dance) and a Tsugaru-jamisen (津軽三味線, a style of shamisen playing) from the Tsugaru peninsula in Aomori Prefecture.

Oni Kenbai 1, Kitakami, Iwate

Oni Kenbai 1, Kitakami, Iwate. By Yoshi Canopus (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

However, the main emphasis during Ondekoza’s musical education was on festival and theatrical drumming traditions from across Japan. Some styles – such as Chichibu yatai-bayashi – were performed the music on stage in a manner fairly close to how they are presented in the original festivals. In other cases, members arranged the drumming styles they learned to such an extent that it resulted in a completely new form of performance. It was these arrangements in particular that would have a profound influence on not only the development of Ondekoza but indeed broader contemporary taiko performance.

Hi no taiko

One of the many performers brought in by Den Tagayasu to teach regional arts to Ondekoza members was Shitamura Keiichi, who in 1971 visited Sado from the town of Mikuni in Fukui Prefecture (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 107). Shitamura introduced the group to a drumming style called hi no taiko (火の太鼓), used during a ritual in which musicians travel through the rice fields to rid them of harmful insects. During a performance of Hi no taiko, one player playing a steady supporting rhythm as the other plays accented rhythmic patterns while integrating various choreographic movements (Bender 2012, 88).

Den asked Hayashi Eitetsu to arrange this style for stage performance, just as he had for Chichibu yatai-bayashi. However, Den also added to his request the integration of elements he had seen in a movie. As he travelled Japan in the 1950s and 1960s, observing folk life across the country, Den often thought back to a scene he witnessed in the 1943 film Muhōmatsu no Isshō (無法松の一生, “The Life of the Outrageous Matsu,” remade in 1958 by original director Inagaki Hiroshi with new actors), about a rickshaw driver at the end of the 19th century. In the scene, set during the Kokura Gion Festival in Kokura, modern day Fukuoka Prefecture, the title character Muhōmatsu – played by Bandō Tsumasaburō in the original, and Mifune Toshiro in the remake – decides to show the teacher of a boy that he had befriended “the real Kokura Gion Daiko.” Muhōmatsu hops on a float carrying a large nagadō-daiko that was being drawn though the streets and begins to play, making wild motions as he hits the drum and generally making merry.

 

In his study of the development of contemporary taiko performance, anthropologist Shawn Bender writes that Den saw this performance as an embodiment of “the ideal taiko player,” fitting neatly with his interest in folk performance and his “concern for the disappearing culture of the artisan” (Bender 2012, 87). He was greatly affected by the scene, so much so that when Ondekoza received a large ō-daiko as a gift from a supporter, he had a cart built for the drum and asked Hayashi to reproduce the scene on the ō-daiko.

When asking Hayashi Eitetsu to arrange hi no taiko for concert performance, Den had one stage direction:

He had the drummers position the drum so that its side, not its front, faced the audience, thus highlighting the movements of the drummers and their drum mallets and mimicking the camera angle in the 1958 version of the film. (Bender 2012, 88)

Odaiko Duet

As Hayashi began to develop the arrangement, however, he became hesitant. The concept of a large drum on a cart that was pulled around the town was an invention created for the movie, and the actor Bandō Tsumasaburō “only went through the motions of the drum… in reality, the hitting style in the movie wasn’t truly hitting the drum” (personal communication, December 2012). Furthermore, he felt that “if [he] were to make something that was to be heard on stage, where the matsuri-like atmosphere is not present, then actually the movements became a barrier.” (Hayashi 1992, 49).

Meanwhile, he also found himself troubled by the performance techniques of not only the original hi no taiko but also Bandō Tsumasaburō in The Rickshaw Man. In both cases, the drummer stands parallel to the drum and hits across the body. Hayashi felt he could not use all of his strength when hitting across his body, an important consideration given the size of the drum that Ondekoza had been given. He decided not to integrate the choreography of the drumming style into his arrangement. Instead, he experimented with his stance, eventually facing the drum head on and lowering his body so that his arms had to be raised slightly in order to hit the middle of the drumhead. The resulting performance stance presented a striking image that accentuated the physicality of the player while they hit the ō-daiko.

Japan Earthquake Commemoration Concert, United Nations, NY

This stance, combined with a stand that places the drum horizontally with the center of the drumhead at or above eye level, was a major innovation in the world to taiko performance: the introduction of a brand-new performance technique not found in any regional performance tradition or in classical music, but rather created by Hayashi especially for Ondekoza’s stage performances.

As he refined this new technique, Hayashi also set out to arrange the rhythms of hi no taiko into something appropriate for the stage. He arranged the two-drummer interplay into an extended improvisation utilizing both sides of the drum: as later described in a publication by Kodo, “the performer on the front side of the drum plays freely over the continuing base rhythm (ura-uchi) performed by the performer in the rear” (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 107). Because it featured the ō-daiko, the piece was given the simple name “O-daiko” (「大太鼓」).

“O-daiko”

Despite the name, “O-daiko” opens not with the ō-daiko but with a shakuhachi. A slow improvisation on the bamboo instrument opens the piece, continuing even after the ō-daiko players first hit the drum. The drummers strike the drum sparsely as the shakuhachi player continues to improvise, eventually fading out so that the ō-daiko can take center stage. Once the wind instrument has left, the drummers – for the first time – play a rhythm in time, joined by one more musician playing chapped (handheld cymbals):

O-daiko opening cycle

After this sequence, the players begin a slight oroshi (a pattern with single hits that begin slow and get progressive faster), started by one side of the ō-daiko and soon joined by the player on the other side and the chappa player. Once the oroshi rhythm reaches a steady speed, one ō-daiko begins improvising while the player on the other side and the chappa continue with an accompanying ostinato. After several minutes, the ō-daiko players switch roles, and the other side begins to improvise.

Once both ō-daiko players have improvised, the second soloist briefly stops while the accompanying ostinato on the drum and cymbals continues. When the improvisation begins again, this time returning to the first soloist, the ostinato is joined by an atarigane player. Again, this improvisation soon ends, leaving just the accompanying ostinato, which fades to a very quiet volume. The shakuhachi player rejoins the performance, now joined by a fue player. As these melodic instruments play, the ō-daiko soloist gradually enters, first in the background but becoming more and more prominent. When the fue player ends their own improvisation, the tempo gets faster and the ō-daiko solo returns to the forefront of the performance. Finally, the piece ends suddenly, with a single hit by both players on the ō-daiko.

When performing “O-daiko,” Ondekoza members at first wore the festival garb-inspired happi and hachimaki that served as the group’s uniform. However, this changed in the spring of 1975, when the group played a series of concerts at the Espace Pierre Cardin in Paris, owned by fashion designer Pierre Cardin. After one performance, Cardin made the suggestion of having the “O-daiko” soloist perform in a type of fundoshi (loincloth) typically associated with sumo wrestling. According to Bender, this idea stemmed from an appearance by Ondekoza at the Hadaka Matsuri in Okayama city in western Japan, famous for the presence of “thousands of men dressed only in fundoshi… as they jockey for sacred sticks hurled into the crowd by priests” (Bender 2012, 91). The group performed in the loincloths in an effort to maintain the spirit of the festival, and an image from this performance was used in publicity for the Paris concerts. The audience response in Paris to this change was largely positive, and the custom of performing “O-daiko” in a fundoshi began.[1]

Kodo

The Evolution of “O-daiko”

While the above description applies to “O-daiko” as it was performed in the 1970 by members of Ondekoza, with Hayashi Eitetsu as the primary soloist, the work has not remained the same in the four decades that have followed. To a degree, this is due to changes in the primary soloist on the piece. Soon after the members of Ondekoza broke away from Den Tagayasu in 1981 and formed Kodo, and Hayashi decided to embark on a solo career. Since that time, a number of soloists have taken on the mantle of primary “O-daiko” soloist.[2] Fujimoto Yoshikazu was the first within Kodo, performing “O-daiko” almost exclusively until he stopped touring internationally in the latter part of the first decade of the 21st Century. This mantle was then taken up by Nakagome Kenta, Mitome Tomohiro, Ishizuka Mitsuru, and other soloists.

As different soloists have been featured in “O-daiko,” the nature of “O-daiko” itself has changed. In the early days of Kodo, the piece was performed largely as it was by Ondekoza in the 1970s. However, this began to change in the late 1990s and early 2000s, as “O-daiko” became to occupy more and more of the spotlight and took up more time on the program. During Kodo’s One Earth Tour at the beginning of the 21st Century, concerts featured 3 three different ō-daiko soloists, resulting in 20-30 minutes of the concert dedicated to “O-daiko.” Meanwhile, the presence of wind instruments and handheld percussion instruments has been reduced – in some tours the fue, chappa, and atarigane are completely absent, leaving accompaniment duties solely to the person on the reverse side of the ō-daiko, while in other cases they are only used during select solos.

In recent years, Kodo has even experimented with eliminating “O-daiko” from the repertoire entirely, albeit by replacing it with similar pieces. One replacement has been “Tomoe,” which features three large hiradō-daiko set in a triangular pattern. These drums, similar in size to the ō-daiko used by Kodo on tours, require just as much strength and endurance to play as the ō-daiko, and the piece features similar rhythms as those used in “O-daiko” – with less improvisation – providing a nice alternative to the extended solos on ō-daiko.

The Impact of “O-daiko”

It is hard to understate the effect of “O-daiko” on the development of contemporary taiko performance. Before the emergence of this piece, the ō-daiko was used largely as just one drum amongst many in an ensemble, as was the case in Osuwa Daiko and Sukeroku Taiko repertoire. Meanwhile, it was rare to see an nagadō-daiko drum much larger in size than what many groups call a chū-daiko (with a head between 16 and 24 inches in diameter), and certainly not the size of the one featured in Ondekoza performances.

After “O-daiko” became popular, however, a number of other Japanese groups purchased a larger-sized ō-daiko that could be played using Hayashi’s new technique, as well as composed works that featured extended improvisations on the ō-daiko in the same manner as “O-daiko.” For example, the Tokyo-based group Oedo Sukeroku Taiko – founded by original Sukeroku Taiko Kobayashi Seido in the early 1980s – began to combine the cross-body hitting style common in hōgaku-hayashi with the drum-facing hitting style developed by Hayashi Eitetsu, and composed its own ō-daiko feature piece called “Edo no Kaze” (“Edo Wind,” seen beginning at 07:33 in the video below).

Another Sukeroku Taiko-influenced taiko group, the San Francisco Taiko Dojo, premiered their own ō-daiko feature piece, “Tsunami,” in 1986:

Meanwhile, other groups have taken the basic performance styles practices developed by Hayashi Eitetsu and used them in a large group – that is, they have incorporated multiple ō-daiko into a composition. Hayashi Eitetsu has composed several pieces in this style since becoming a soloist in 1982, including “Seven Stars”:

Similarly, soloist Kenny Endo – who helped developed “Edo no Kaze” as a member of Oedo Sukeroku Taiko – wrote his work “Rites of Thundering” in 2000:

Beyond placing the spotlight on ō-daiko performance, the development of “O-daiko” and Hayashi’s new ō-daiko performance techniques was important to the development of contemporary taiko performance in that it helped foster the rise of taiko soloists. When Hayashi Eitetsu left Kodo in 1982 to pursue a career as a soloist, he had to develop a new performance style that was not reliant on any other players. He accomplished this both through the exploration of the taiko set – a concept first begun by Oguchi Daihachi with Osuwa Daiko – and through a greater emphasis on ō-daiko performance.

Hayashi decided “to never turn down a job and accept any work that came [his] way” (Hayashi 2011). This included a lot of what he calls “artsy events,” with a variety of companies, stores, and venues sponsoring musical performances and projects. Both Hayashi and his performance sponsors were interested as much creating an attention-grabbing performance in an unexpected environment as in creating an innovative musical experience; as he later described it, performances were often more about “the catabolic effect of having a taiko appear in a place you wouldn’t normally expect it” than about musical innovation (Hayashi 2011). Nevertheless, the activities helped to make Hayashi known as a solo artist. Early performances included “accompaniment for singers” and “opening ceremonies for commercial buildings and at parties” (Hayashi 2011).

Meanwhile, deprived of an accompanist to provide an underlying rhythmic foundation, Hayashi experimented with different ways of maintaining the rhythm while playing his solo. One method that he devised was what Isaku Kageyama calls an “eighth note groove,” combinations of eighth notes “accented in groupings of 3 and 4, and triplet figures” (Kageyama 2012). Through a mixture of accent placement, rhythmic variation, and dynamic contrast, Hayashi was able to develop a way to keep his ō-daiko solos musically interesting while still providing a rhythmic foundation.

For example, in a section from a 2010 improvisation entitled “Hi no Taiko, Tsuki no Taiko” (“Taiko of the Sun, Taiko of the Moon”) Hayashi uses different combinations of left and right drumstick hits, and rhythmic patterns that include variations of accented and unaccented notes. The left hand and right hand hits are placed on different parts of the drumhead, resulting in different sounds that add to the rhythmic variety of the improvisation:

An excerpt from Hayashi Eitetsu’s ō-daiko improvisation "Hi no Taiko, Tsuki no Taiko." The right hand hits at the end of the drumhead, while accented left hand notes are played in the center.

An excerpt from Hayashi Eitetsu’s ō-daiko improvisation “Hi no Taiko, Tsuki no Taiko.” The right hand hits at the end of the drumhead, while accented left hand notes are played in the center.

Hayashi compares the sonic spectrum created during his ō-daiko solos to painting:

…one idea that came to me was to use traditional Japanese sumi ink paintings as an image. Just as we sense color and space and distance within the gradations of monochromatic grays and black of the sumi ink painting, I thought that perhaps a similar image could be used for the supposed monotone of drum music. I tried a number of things like modifications in the drumsticks (bachi) and changing the surface areas I hit on the drum skin. (Hayashi 2011)

By hitting towards the edge of the drum, a much thinner, higher-sounding tone is created than what occurs when the center of the drum is hit. Similarly, a thinner drumstick produces a different sound than a thicker one. Hayashi also has experimented with using non-wooden sticks, including small bamboo rods wrapped together in a manner similar to a broom. Utilizing a wide range of sounds and performance techniques, he developed an ō-daiko solo that was more sonically varied that what he had performed with Ondekoza.[3]

The development of “O-daiko,” then, affected not only the course of Ondekoza and Kodo’s musical development, but the development of contemporary taiko performance as a whole. It paved the way for a new style of playing that was less reliant on festival music performance practices, while also highlighting the individual and offering an extended space for unique improvisation. Since the 1970s, the ō-daiko solo has become a rite of passage of a sorts for taiko players, a gateway into a new mode of performance that uniquely belongs to the world of contemporary taiko.

References

Bender, Shawn. 2010. “Drumming from Screen to Stage: Ondekoza’s Odaiko and the Reimaging of Japanese Taiko.”  The Journal of Asian Studies 69 (03):843-867.

Bender, Shawn. 2012. Taiko Boom: Japanese Drumming in Place and Motion. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Hayashi, Eitetsu. 1992. Ashita no Taiko Uchi e 明日の太鼓打ちへ. Tokyo: Shobunsha.

Hayashi, Eitetsu. 2011. Artist Interview: Innovating drum music, the spirit of Eitetsu Hayashi. The Japan Foundation Performing Arts Network Japan.

Kageyama, Isaku. 2012. “How To Kinda Sound Like Eitetsu Hayashi – Stylistic Exploration ‘Eitetsu Hayashi 8th Note Groove’.” http://isakukageyama.jugem.jp/?eid=400.

Kodo Cultural Foundation. 2011. Inochi Moyashite, Tatakeyo. -Kodo 30-Nen no Kiseki – いのちもやして、たたけよ。-鼓童30年の軌跡ー. Tokyo: Shuppan Bunka Sha Corporation.

Yoon, Paul J. 2009. “Asian Masculinities and Parodic Possibility in Odaiko Solos and Filmic Representations.”  Asian Music 40 (1):100-130.

Footnotes

[1] The relationship between the adoption of the use of the loincloth during “O-daiko” and the rise of its popularity suggests that the fame of the piece may be somewhat due to the physical nature of its performance. Such an idea has been explored by scholars like Shawn Bender and Paul Yoon, who argue that the work’s popularity is as much due to its evocation of masculinity as to its musical content (see Bender 2010, Yoon 2009).
[2] This is the case both in Kodo and in the new version of Ondekoza that Den founded in the 1980s.

[3] He also adjusted the build of the ō-daiko stand so that the various types of drumsticks could be placed underneath the drum so they could be immediately available, as seen in the video clip. This additional shelf is absent from the stand used by Ondekoza/Kodo.

Monochrome

In the early part of the 1970s, Ondekoza members trained both their bodies and their minds as they prepared to take their unique form of taiko performance around the world. Even as they were learning folk arts like Chichibu Yatai-bayashi, they were also engaging in physical activities like running marathons. In 1972, just 9 months after they began activities, they ran their first New Year’s Marathon, and in October participated in the 25th Sado Long-Distance Relay (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 12). The next year, they participated in the Tokyo Ohme Marathon.

Finally, in October 1973, the group made its musical debut as an attraction at the 6th World Industrial Design Conference in Kyoto, performing “Yatai-bayashi” in front of an audience that included many of the group’s stockholders (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 53). Building upon that performance, the group gave a total of 10 performances that year at similar events, such as the Kyoto Craft Fair. They gradually ramped up activities in the following year, giving an increased number of performances while continuing to run marathons across Japan. The two endeavors combined in April of 1975 as the group embarked on its first world tour. In a feat that has since become the stuff of legend, members participated in the Boston Marathon, then upon arriving at the finish line jumped up onto the stage and began to play. Soon, Ondekoza’s name became known not just across the United States but around the world.

Members’ participation in the Boston Marathon – and subsequent performances across the Boston area – not only helped to increase general knowledge of the group’s activities, but also helped the group to meet new friends and collaborators. Among those in the audiences of Ondekoza’s Boston performances was Ozawa Seiji, the Music Director of the Boston Symphony with whom Den Tagayasu had become acquaintances in the years leading up to Ondekoza’s United States debut. This friendship would become crucial to the growth of Ondekoza when Ozawa introduced Den to Ishii Maki, a Western art music composer who had spent several years in Berlin in the 1960s studying twelve-tone technique under pupils of Arnold Schoenberg, one of the most influential composers of the 20th Century.

Following an early 1960s encounter with shōmyō (a type of Buddhist chant found only in Japan) and gagaku (Japanese ritual court music), Ishii began to investigate the potential for blending Japanese and Western musical techniques. He experimented with the inclusion of Japanese musical elements into a Western classical music setting, seeking to “incorporate various devices which establish contact between the idioms of western and eastern music” (Ishii 1997, 27). One such work in which he explored this concept was “Sō-Gū II,” a juxtaposition of gagaku and Western orchestral music in which music for the orchestra and music for the gagaku ensemble are performed simultaneously, premiered in 1971 by The Japan Philharmonic Orchestra (under the direction of Ozawa Seiji). Among the many techniques Ishii used in his search for a new form of musical expression blending Western and Japanese elements was an increased emphasis on percussion instruments, so important to Japanese music but relatively under-developed in Western classical music until the beginning of the 20th Century. He was particularly interested in “the intrinsic, elemental power and the richly expressive potential of these instruments” (Ishii 1997, 53).

Ozawa’s introduction to Ondekoza was fortuitous for both parties, for even as Ishii was become more and more interested in percussion music, Den was contemplating a collaboration with Western orchestra. Den invited Ishii to visit Sado and write a new piece for Ondekoza. Ishii accepted the invitation and spent six months on the island with group member, where he “devised new techniques totally unfamiliar” to Ondekoza members and “requested them to practise until these techniques had entered their very blood and bones” (Ishii 1997, 57). Not only was this was a completely different experience for the members, but it was a major step forward for contemporary taiko performance in general. To that point, the majority of taiko music had been influenced by Japanese folk and theatrical drumming, with the occasional jazz elements finding their way into the world of Oguchi Daihachi and Osuwa Daiko. Ishii, however, brought in a wide variety of Western art music elements, resulting in one of the most unique works in contemporary taiko repertoire: “Monochrome.”

“Monochrome”

The culmination of the six months of collaboration between Ishii Maki and Ondekoza, “Monochrome” – officially titled “Monochrome, for Japanese Drums and gongs, op. 28” – premiered at the Tokyo Bunka Kaikan in February 1976 as part of the music festival Panmusik Festival Tokyo (founded by Ishii). “Monochrome” was a major breakthrough in the development of taiko music; not only was it the first time that an outside composer had written music for a taiko group, but it was the first work written by a Western-trained composer. Ishii’s approach to music was quite different to what the Ondekoza members were used to; among other things, it was the first time they had encountered what they called “a Western music-oriented approach, with rhythms different from traditional taiko, as they tried to embody a musical form of expression” (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 58).

“Monochrome” is written for seven shime-daiko, three nagadō-daiko (indicated in the score as “Chichibu-Daiko,” hinting at the influence of Ondekoza’s “Yatai-bayashi” arrangement), two ō-daiko, and two large gongs () hung on metal stands. In most performances, however, the section involving the ō-daiko is not played, indicated as “Version B” in the printed score. (Ishii 1989)

The beginning of the piece is characterized by moments of quiet that built up to extreme loudness, with quiet ostinatos (marked pianissimo) that are marked by occasional accented rhythms that gradually build up to mezzo-forte before dropping back to near-nothingness. These accented rhythms vary according to the player, resulting in an intricate combination of sounds in which all seven players fit within a larger rhythmic whole:[1]

Published by Moeck Verlag und Musikinstrumentenwek (Ishii 1989)

Published by Moeck Verlag und Musikinstrumentenwek (Ishii 1989)

The ostinato section transitions into one characterized by elements more commonly found in aleatoric compositions, a style in which parts of the performance are left to chance. Ishii uses the concept of “chance” in multiple ways in “Monochrome.” After the opening ostinato, there begins a slight alternation of the quiet rhythm, as each player accelerates and slows down the repeated ostinato before returning to the original tempo. The resulting imbalance is almost unnoticeable at first, but as more players move out of the ostinato and began manipulating the tempo the strict metric feel that has dominated the music to this point is disrupted. In a following section, meanwhile, each drummer lets their bachi bounce quietly on the stick head, the resulting rhythm determined by the manner in which gravity works on the drumstick and resulting in a sound similar to rain.

Meanwhile, in two later passages in the section, Ishii makes use of a common aleatoric compositional practice by having players choose from seventeen different rhythms that combine volume hits, hits on the drumhead and the rim, and rhythmic variations (the rhythms that are used in the second grouping are seen below). The order in which the rhythms are played is left up to the individual, as long as they play them for the designated length of time and do not repeat the same pattern until they have played all possible options.

An aleatoric passage from "Monochrome," listing seventeen musical gestures from which players can choose

An aleatoric passage from “Monochrome,” listing seventeen musical gestures from which players can choose

Movement into the final section of “Monochrome,” coming out of the second grouping of aleatoric rhythms, is signaled by a move by three players to the nagadō-daiko, where they begin a passage influenced by “Yatai-bayashi.” The remaining shime-daiko players continue their aleatoric patterns for a time before one by one settling into the ostinato from “Yatai-bayashi.” Meanwhile, each nagadō-daiko player first performs individual variations on the “Yatai-bayashi” ō-nami/ko-nami sequences – albeit, not improvised as in “Yatai-bayashi,” for Ishii has written the desired rhythms in the score – before eventually synchronizing their playing, building up to the end of the piece.

The final measures of "Monochrome." The top three lines are played on nagadō-daiko; the bottom three, shime-daiko. (Ishii 1989)

The final measures of “Monochrome.” The top three lines are played on nagadō-daiko; the bottom three, shime-daiko. (Ishii 1989)

“Monochrome” was unlike anything performed before by taiko ensembles in the history of the art form. The inclusion of aleatoric elements brought Western classical musical practices into the taiko world; the rhythmic construction, dynamic considerations, and other compositional techniques were unlike anything else found in the repertoire. Furthermore, the sonic dimensions of a performance of “Monochrome” is unmatched; each loud hit of the shime-daiko that passes between the players, each quiet interplay between accelerando, ritardando, and a tempo, is affected by the acoustical properties of the performance space in which the piece is heard, an approach used by composers of Western art music but one that had never been a factor in taiko performance. Furthermore, a performance of “Monochrome” often includes theatrical elements only possible in concert halls, as different sections are accompanied by changing in lighting. The opening, for example, is dimly lit, with the lights getting brighter as the players increase the dynamics of their playing and dimming again as the dynamics go back down, and spotlights are often used to bring attention to particular players or instruments.

Meanwhile, the inclusion of rhythms taken from “Yatai-bayashi” – both the ostinato and the ō-nami/ko-nami sequence – was a continuation of Ishii’s attempts to meld Japanese and Western musical elements. Unlike previous attempts in which Ishii juxtaposed different elements in simultaneous performance, however, within “Monochrome” he made the Japanese elements part of the overall rhythmic scheme of the piece. This is particularly evident in the latter section of the work when three drummers move from shime-daiko to nagadō-daiko. The stands on which the nagadō-daiko are placed – as well as the rhythms used in the section – help to identify the elements as having been taken from “Yatai-bayashi,” but they are means to an end, musical ideas to be used for a greater musical purpose rather than elements to be contrasted with another musical idea (although, for a time, the aleatoric section overlaps with the “Yatai-bayashi” quotation).

The Legacy of “Monochrome”

“Monochrome” brought Ondekoza – indeed, taiko in general – into a new musical world, helping the group to be recognized by a wider audience interested as much in “modern music” as in “Japanese music.” Hayashi Eitetsu holds this development in high regard in relation to the continued evolution of taiko repertoire:

Musically-speaking, I believe that the minimal rhythmic elements presented in their bare essence as in minimalism, the rhythmic syncopation of the nagadō-daiko, and the dynamics that grow from softest to loudest had a strong impact on contemporary audiences and thus was accepted. That form of presentation is nothing that had been expressed by Japanese taiko to that point and was a landmark event. That characteristic, through “Monochrome” and the technique of contemporary music, spread even further musically. (Personal communication, December 2012)

Ishii would follow up “Monochrome” with “Mono-prism for Japanese drums and orchestra,” taking many of the same ideas of “Monochrome” and applying them in an orchestral setting; the taiko ensemble is accompanied by an orchestral score that is at times atonal and integrates elements of aleatoric composition. The piece debuted in 1976 at the Tanglewood Music Festival in Massachusetts, with Ondekoza and the Boston Symphony Orchestra under the direction of Ozawa Seiji (Kodo Cultural Foundation 2011, 59).

“Mono-prism” was not the end of Ishii’s exploration of taiko performance, however. In 1981 he wrote “Dyū-Ha” for Ondekoza’s successor group Kodo. Then, in 1985, he wrote a ballet entitled “Kaguyahime,” with the orchestra comprised of 8 taiko, 8 percussionists, and a gagaku ensemble. He again makes use “Yatai-bayashi,” both in terms of rhythms and the Chichibu yatai-bayashi stand.

That same year, he also composed a follow-up to “Mono-prism,” “Mono-prism II,” for taiko and percussion instruments:

Through these works – especially “Monochrome” – taiko entered into a new realm of performance; Ondekoza was performing not just folk music, but art music as well – that is, music that is written down (a score for “Monochrome” has been published, a rarity for taiko repertoire) and utilizes advanced structural and compositional techniques. Others have followed in Ishii’s footsteps, bringing together the worlds of taiko music and Western art music. In 1983, Miki Minoru composed “Marimba Spiritual” for marimba solo and three percussionist. Each of the percussionists plays a variety of instruments, but the main section of the piece features atarigane, shime-daiko, and nagadō-daiko. It even hearkens back to “Monochrome” through the use of “yatai-bayashi” rhythms. On Miki’s website, it is stated that “The rhythmic patterns for the second part are taken from the festival drumming of the Chichibu area northwest of Tokyo,” but the rhythmic feel is more like Ondekoza’s arrangement.[2]

The inclusion of taiko in a symphonic context continued even today, championed by composers like Matsushita Isao. With compositions like “Hi-Ten-Yu,” a concerto for taiko and orchestra (written for Hayashi Eitetsu), he has continued the work started by Ishii, bringing taiko to new audiences and bringing the gap between Japanese and Western musics.

Works Cited

 Ishii, Maki. 1989. Monochrome for japanese drums and gongs op. 29 (1976). Celle, Lower Saxony, Germany: Moeck Verlag und Musikinstrumentenwek.

Ishii, Maki. 1997. “”Nishi no Hibiki, Higashi no Hibiki” – Futatsu no Otosekai kara no Sōzō, Kujū 「西の響き・東の響き」ー二つの音世界からの創造・苦渋ー.” In Sounds of West – Sounds of East: Maki Ishii’s Music —Striding two Musical Worlds, edited by Christa Ishii-Meinecke, 12-69. Celle, Germany: Moeck Verlag + Musikinstrumentenwerk.

Kodo Cultural Foundation. 2011. Inochi Moyashite, Tatakeyo. -Kodo 30-Nen no Kiseki – いのちもやして、たたけよ。-鼓童30年の軌跡ー. Tokyo: Shuppan Bunka Sha Corporation.

Footnotes

[1] In this passage, noteheads with stems down represent quiet continuation of the ostinato, while those with noteheads up are accented notes (notated with accents in the beginning of each passage, and continued per the “simile” marking above each line).

[2] http://www.m-miki.com/en/publish/Marimba.html (accessed November 28, 2015)

Symmetrical Soundscapes

Sukeroku Taiko made major contributions to the world of contemporary taiko performance in the 1960s and 1970s, bringing together festival and theatrical music in compositions written to be played in a wide variety of spaces, from cabarets to store openings. However, in the same manner of its predecessor, Shin On Daiko, in the early 1970s Sukeroku Taiko ran into financial trouble. Meanwhile, the original members were beginning to pursue other interests, performing less and less with the group. Ishizuka Yutaka – who started the path towards Sukeroku Taiko when he answered a newspaper ad in December 1966 – had entered into the Mochizuki school of hōgaku performance, eventually receiving the stage name (natori) Mochizuki Saburo in 1972. Likewise, Onozato Ganei became a student of Tosha Yuho, a hōgaku performer that he had met on a concert tour, and in 1977 received the natori Tosha Kiyonari (Mogi 2010). Additionally, Kobayashi Seido was focusing on his family’s business.

Eventually, an overextension of the group’s capabilities led to the subsequent reforming in 1974 under the overview of Imaizumi Yutaka, a former bon daiko champion who had joined the group shortly after its founding in the late 1960s (Mogi 2010, 40). The group was renamed the Sukeroku Taiko Hozonkai, and this re-centering allowed the group to continue operation. In 1977, it performed at the first “Nihon no Taiko” concert at the National Theater, performing “Oroshi Daiko,” “Shiraume Daiko,” “Matsuri Daiko,” and “Yodan Uchi”; the performers were Kobayashi Seido, Onozato Motoe, Ishikura Yoshihisa, Imaizumi Yutaka, Ishikura Kazukou, and Ebitani Yuichiro (Mogi 2010, 40).

However, there arose creative differences between Kobayashi Seido, who was in the spotlight as the chief performer of the Sukeroku Taiko Hozonkai, and Imaizumi Yutaka, who was in charge of group management. In 1982, these differences reached a breaking point: Imaizumi reorganized the Sukeroku Taiko Hozonkai as Sukeroku Daiko, and Kobayashi founded his own group, Oedo Sukeroku Taiko. Among the performers that accompanied Kobayashi over to Oedo Sukeroku Taiko was an American who had just begun playing with the group the previous year: Kenny Endo.

Kenny Endo

Kenny Endo had begun playing taiko in 1975 with Kinnara Taiko in Los Angeles, one of the first taiko groups in the United States. He soon moved to San Francisco, starting a career as a jazz drummer but also studying taiko with Tanaka Seiichi at the San Francisco Taiko Dojo. Tanaka had studied with both Oguchi Daihachi and Mochizuki Saburo in the late 1960s, and passed the performance traditions of Osuwa Daiko and Sukeroku Taiko to his students. Eventually, driven by a desire to “go to Japan and really seek out where the roots are, and what kind of music it came from,” Endo decided to travel to Japan (personal interview, June 29, 2010). His first stop was Nagano Prefecture, where through the recommendation of Tanaka he had the opportunity to study with Oguchi Daihachi. Then, in 1981, he moved to Tokyo, and – again, based on Tanaka’s recommendation – began studying with members of Sukeroku Taiko.

Kenny Endo performing with Sukeroku Taiko in 1982. Photo by Chizuko Endo.

Kenny Endo performing with Sukeroku Taiko in 1982. Photo by Chizuko Endo.

When Kobayashi Seido broke away and founded Oedo Sukeroku Taiko, Endo followed, performing with the group for 5 years until 1987. However, he did not limit his studies to contemporary taiko performance, but also pursued the study of other musical forms in which taiko are used. He studied hōgaku within the Mochizuki school, first with Mochizuki Saburo and later Mochizuki Tazaemon (who in 1988 became the fourth head of the Mochizuki school and succeeded into the name Mochizuki Bokusei) (Endo 2011). In 1987, he became the first non-Japanese to receive a natori (professional stage name) in hōgaku-hayashi, thereafter known within the hōgaku world as Mochizuki Tajiro.[1] At the same time, he also joined the Wakayama Shachū performance troupe and studied folk performance art of the Tokyo Shitamachi area, studying performances arts like Oedo sato-kagura (Shinto theatrical music and dance from the Shitamachi area) and Edo kotobuki-jishi (a regional form of lion dance).

Kenny Endo performing Edo-bayashi at the Karasunori Matsuri in 1988. Photo by Chizuko Endo.

Kenny Endo performing Edo-bayashi at the Karasunori Matsuri in 1988. Photo by Chizuko Endo.

In the summer of 1986, Endo toured the west coast of North America along with a small number of Japanese performers, including Hayashi Eitetsu, a founding member of the group Ondekoza who had moved to Tokyo in 1982. Drawing upon his diverse performance experience and the musics he was studying in Japan, Endo performed a unique set. He presented several selections from hōgaku-hayashi, performing on the ko-tsuzumi alongside Hosoya Masashi on ō-tsuzumi. He also performed an arrangement of Sukeroku Taiko’s “Shiraume Daiko” and “Matsuri Daiko” for ō-daiko, ko-tsuzumi, and fue, accompanied at times by a lion dance.

Audiences not only saw a wide range of Japanese taiko performance in these concerts, however, for they were witness to the emergence of a new type of taiko performance. Hayashi and Endo both performed individual solo sets before coming together for a joint second half. During their sets, each presented their own compositions in addition to previously existing works. At a concert in Oakland on May 11, 1986, Endo presented “Ancient Beginnings,” a nearly-twenty minute duet for taiko set and saxophone featuring former San Francisco Taiko Dojo member Russel Baba on saxophone, written in 1984 when Endo participated as guest performer for the Kotosono Dance Ensemble’s tour of Egypt.

“Ancient Beginnings” was the first of many pieces Endo wrote in the 1980s for taiko and melodic instruments; in 1986, for example, he wrote “Spirit Sounds” for ō-daiko, shinobue and jushichigen (a koto with 17 strings). Through these and other songs, Endo was able to collaborate with a variety of artists in a multitude of settings. In one 1987 concert at the Hoshoji Temple, he performed alongside musicians playing electric and upright bass, shakuhachi, and saxophone; meanwhile, a 1988 concert at Stella Studio featured collaborations with fue and shamisen players. Such solo activities were an extension of other performance opportunities he had, such as performing with big bands in Tokyo like the Music Magic Orchestra.

Kenny Endo performing with the Music Magic Orchestra in 1988. Photo by Chizuko Endo.

Kenny Endo performing with the Music Magic Orchestra in 1988. Photo by Chizuko Endo.

However, Endo did not simply explore ways of integrating taiko and melodic instruments, but also composed pieces for taiko alone. Within these works, Endo could express his emerging performance identity as a soloist, bringing together the many different forms of music that he was studying. He was not only a jazz drummer and a member of a taiko ensemble, but also a student and performer of hōgaku and Edo-bayashi. In 1985, he used these diverse experiences as inspiration when composing the work “Symmetrical Soundscapes.” Not only did this piece reveal what taiko could accomplish outside of a large ensemble, setting the stage for the solo endeavors that would come to dominate Endo’s performance activities, but it also demonstrated how Endo himself was evolving as a musician.

“Symmetrical Soundscapes”

“Symmetrical Soundscapes” was originally composed as a duet “for two taiko players performing mirror imagery through sounds” (Endo 1994). As the vague nature of this description suggests, the instrumentation for the piece is a bit fluid. An early performance on August 28, 1988 at the Stella Studio in Tokyo, for example, took place with each player using just a single shime-daiko. However, since early on Endo has expanded the work in numerous ways. Even in a duet form, performers often use more drums. In a performance on August 22, 2015, for example, members of TAIKOPROJECT added two okedō-daiko and a nagadō-daiko to the mix:

Meanwhile, in other performances drummers make use of a large rack of uchiwa-daiko:

Endo has also arranged “Symmetrical Soundscapes” for by more players; this arrangement most commonly takes the form of a quartet, but occasionally it will be expanded even further. In one video uploaded by Endo to his YouTube channel, taken from his 2010 35th Anniversary concert in Los Angeles, Endo performs the piece alongside three members of the group On Ensemble and soloist Kaoru Watanabe in a rare five-person version:

Regardless of the instrumentation and number of players involved, the music of “Symmetrical Soundscapes” is usually the same. It has two sections, both incorporating a combination of composed rhythmic sequences and improvisations, featuring rhythms that both draw inspiration from and outright quote the musics that Endo was engrossing himself in the 1980s.

Most performances open with the players hitting an uchiwa-daiko held in their hands, moving around the stage as they play to take advantage of the freedom of movement permitted by a handheld uchiwa-daiko. They begin with a series of hits akin to a do-don oroshi: a roll-like in which each player hits twice (the “do-don” in the name), getting faster with each hit. After the peak oroshi (roll) speed is reached, following a moment of silence, the drummers start playing a series of interlocking rhythms. This segment introduces two major signatures of “Symmetrical Soundscapes: interlocking rhythms, and the borrowing of rhythms from other musical genres.

The phrase borrows from hōgaku; to be more specific, it is a quotation of a rhythm from nagauta, a song form featured in kabuki. In hōgaku, this rhythm is divided between the ko-tsuzumi and the ō-tsuzumi, but in “Symmetrical Soundscapes” it is simply divided between the different players. The two-person version of this rhythm can be seen in the transcription below, where the top line represents the first drummer (A) playing the equivalent ko-tsuzumi part, and the bottom line the second player (B) the ō-tsuzumi part (02:47 in the sextet YouTube video linked above):

part 1 opening

When there are more than two performers, the phrase is divided amongst pairs. In some performances, these rhythms are played straight in time while in others there is great flexibility to the beat. In either instance, the combination of high and low sounds and difference between long and short notes allows the rhythm to stand out.

In including these rhythms, Endo is drawing upon both his experiences in Oedo Sukeroku Taiko and his studies of hōgaku-hayashi; however, his direct quotation of nagauta rhythms goes beyond the typical usage in Sukeroku-style pieces. In “Oroshi Daiko,” Sukeroku Taiko members took thematic inspiration from “Ichi-ban Daiko” from kabuki, but they never outright quoted from that piece. Through a direct quotation of nagauta rhythms, then, Endo, t took what Sukeroku Taiko members had begun to the next level.

Following a series of variations of the nagauta rhythms, the performers begin a section described by Endo as “solos intertwined with images of mountains and valleys” (Endo 1994). First, they play a sixteenth-note ostinato rising from soft to loud and back down to soft:

mountain ostinato

They then begin to improvise, one player accompanying the solo with the ostinato while following the same dynamic contour (04:50 in the YouTube video). The soloist cues the end of their improvisation by returning to the ostinato, playing the first two sixteenth notes of each beat. After another repeat of the ostinato, again divided between the players, the next drummer begins their improvisation. Once everyone has finished their improvisation and again performed a series of the ostinato, they briefly pause before moving into the second part of the piece.

While the first part of “Symmetrical Soundscapes” is built upon interlocking parts largely derived from hōgaku, the second takes its inspiration from not only hōgaku but also festival music; however, in this instance it is a wider range of festival music than what can be seen in Sukeroku Taiko works. While Endo does include Edo-bayashi elements in the piece, he also brings in festival music from across Central and South America, a nod back to his drum set roots. A series of fast rhythms played in unison opens the second section, providing a completely different sound than what had come before (06:26 in the YouTube video):[2]

part 2 opening

The first two measures are played primarily on the shime-daiko with quiet, nearly unheard notes filling in the space between the primary notes (the primary notes being those notated in the transcription above), a practice that draws from Edo-bayashi technique. Meanwhile, the third and fourth measures feature a rhythm that, when divided between high and low-pitched drums, suggests the sound of Brazilian samba; to be more specific, it represents the interplay between the high caixa de guerra and the low surdo in the bacteria percussion section of a samba ensemble. Emphasizing the Brazilian feel even further, some performances also include two eighth notes on a low drum on beat four.

After a repeat of these phrases, followed by a series of measures filled with offbeat rhythms, a pattern taken from Edo-bayashi signals the beginning into another series of improvisations:

Edo-bayashi transition rhythm

Unlike the relatively free improvisation of the first half of “Symmetrical Soundscapes,” the second half features strictly timed solos: the players each play one four-bar solo, followed by two cycles of two-bar solos, and then four series of one-bar solos. Another quotation then marks the movement out of the improvisation: this time quoting an Afro-Cuban son clave. First comes a unison 3-2 son clave, followed by followed by three measures of player A playing a 2-3 son clave while player B continues the 3-2 (07:53 in the YouTube video):[3]

son clave

This immediately transitions into another series of rhythms derived from hōgaku-hayashi; more specifically, the rhythms are from “Chakutō,” “a short taiko piece accompanied by a Japanese vertical flute traditionally played to open the curtain.”[4]

In the version found in “Symmetrical Soundscapes,” a rhythm called the shagiri is presented first, followed by another phrase known as the age (07:58 in the YouTube clip). A series of largely off-the-beat rhythms follow, again divided between the players, before the piece ends with a strong unison hit:

Chakuto quote to end

The Unique Nature of “Symmetrical Soundscapes”

“Symmetrical Soundscapes” stands apart from much of the contemporary taiko music that had been composed up until that time. It was in its first incarnation a duet, a rarity in a world characterized by works for large ensembles. This began to change in the 1980s, however, as performers such as Kenny Endo and Hayashi Eitetsu started exploring performance options for taiko soloists. As they did so, they need to write new works to support their artistic endeavors. Yet, duets were rare even at that time, as soloists tended to write either for themselves or for larger ensembles.

Beyond its origins as a duet, “Symmetrical Soundscapes” is also unique for the diverse musical inspirations that Endo brought into the piece. The presence of hōgaku-hayashi and Edo-bayashi rhythms demonstrates Endo’s experiences in the world of the Sukeroku style, continuing the influx of these styles into contemporary taiko performance started by the members of Sukeroku Taiko in the late 1960s, but Endo himself was studying these art forms, thus adding a more direct link to the source. At the same time, Endo hearkened back to his experiences as a drum set player with his inclusion of Brazilian and Afro-Cuban rhythms. While was not the first time that non-Japanese rhythms had been integrated into a contemporary taiko piece, it was perhaps the first time that they were so obviously stated; the combination of rhythms and high and low-pitched taiko in the beginning of the section, for example, clearly evokes a Brazilian samba.

It could be said that “Symmetrical Soundscapes” is a reflection of Endo himself, combining the varied musical experiences that he has accumulated into what has been called “a new and refreshing sound combining his Eastern and Western backgrounds” (Kageyama 1986). This mixture of influences would become a defining characteristic of his concerts and his compositions. In concert, Endo often features both contemporary taiko works and repertoire from hōgaku. Over the course of a performance, Endo may play ō-daiko, taiko set, and tsuzumi, revealing the depth of musical skills and experiences that he has accumulated in his 40 years of performance. At the same time, Endo continued to compose songs that brought to the forefront his various influences, both in small- and large-scale situations. ”The Calling,” composed in 1995, is an ensemble work written for ō-daiko, shime-daiko, ō-tsuzumi, shinobue, and nohkan; inspired by the music of hōgaku, it features – amongst other signature elements drawn from the music of Japanese theater – extended use of kakegoe. Endo took the integration of hōgaku elements one step further in “Moonwind,” an understated ō-daiko solo (as compared to the typical loud, forceful ō-daiko solo) in which he utilizes not only rhythms taken from kabuki music but also different drums of drumsticks used during kabuki performances.

Endo wrote “The Calling” and “Moonwind” after he left Japan in 1990, when after 10 years in Japan he moved to Honolulu, Hawaii. There, not only has he continued to explore new hybrid compositional and performance styles, but he has also championed the inclusion of traditional drumming styles in a contemporary taiko teaching environment. In 1994, Endo and his wife Chizuko founded the Taiko Center of the Pacific, where they teach not only the Sukeroku style of taiko performance but also older performance traditions like Edo-bayashi. At the same time, he also founded the Kenny Endo Taiko Ensemble as an additional performance outlet beyond his solo activities. Performances by the Kenny Endo Taiko Ensemble are as much as reflection of Endo’s diverse musical experiences as his composition. A concert may feature an Edo kotobuki-jishi (a lion dance native to the Shitamachi area of Tokyo), “classic” Sukeroku Taiko pieces like the “Oroshi Daiko”/”Shiraume Daiko”/”Matsuri Daiko” suite and “Yodan Uchi,” and modern pieces composed by Endo like “Symmetrical Soundscapes.”

From one perspective, Endo’s activities are a continuation of those endeavors begun by the founding members of Sukeroku Taiko in the 1960s, meshing festival and theatrical music in a performance style presented in a multitude of settings. At the same time, through the inclusion of his drum set experiences he represents another branch of exploration on the contemporary taiko performance tree, a cross-cultural demonstration of how taiko can be used in a more diverse musical performance situation. Thirty years after its composition, ‘Symmetrical Soundscapes” remains unique in the contemporary taiko performance realm, a testament to the wide breadth of musical influences incorporated by Kenny Endo.

Works Cited

Endo, Kenny. 1994. Eternal Energy: Kendo Taiko. CD.

Endo, Kenny. 2011. Aatisuto intabyuu, Vol. 07: Kenii Endō アーティストインタビュー Vol. 07: ケニー遠藤. Miyamoto Unosuke Shoten.

Kageyama, Yuri. 1986. “Following the drumbeat: Percussionist pursues his ancestral heritage.” The Japan Times Weekly, June 21.

Mogi, Hitoshi. 2010. “Oedo Sukeroku Taiko 大江戸助六太鼓.” Taikorojii たいころじい [Taikology] 36:34-41.

Footnotes

[1] http://www.kennyendo.com/about (accessed October 22, 2015)

[2] Following the model in the original handwritten score for “Symmetrical Soundscapes,” the transcription in this excerpt indicates the different sounds that are to be played in this section – high, medium, and low. This is different from the earlier transcriptions for this piece, which indicate differences between player assignments but not pitch. This beginning of the second half of the piece is the only part in which pitch distinctions are important to the understanding of the piece, and are always followed by musicians in performance.

The original score has this section divided by player and not by pitch (both playing the middle notes, player A the high, and player B the low). However, it appears that this practice has not been followed since the late 1980s; rather, all musicians now play the rhythm, dividing it between high and low pitches.

[3] The terms 3-2 and 2-3 refer to the grouping of the notes: a group of 3 then 2, or a group of 2 then 3.

[4] https://www.jpf.go.jp/e/project/culture/archive/information/1202/02-01-2.html (accessed October 22, 2015)

Nidan Uchi/Yodan Uchi

In the short period of time after Shin On Daiko was founded in 1966 – and soon reformed as Sukeroku Taiko – group members developed a core repertoire that they performed at clubs, cabarets, and other locations around Tokyo. According to Kenny Endo, the first piece performed by the group was composed by Sanada Minoru and Kowase Susumu – the organizers and managers of the groups – and included both taiko and shamisen, but soon after they began creating works that featured solely taiko (Endo 1999, 23). “Midare Uchi” was the first, an adaption of Tokyo Shitamachi-style bon daiko solos. This was followed by the “Oroshi Daiko”/”Shiraume Daiko”/”Matsuri Daiko” suite, in which members brought together Edo-bayashi festival music and hōgaku-hayashi, the music of the theater.

The next piece they developed was “Oiuchi Daiko” (追い打ち太鼓), “based on the native drumming found in Hachijo Island” (Endo 1999, 23).[1] “Oiuchi Daiko” is similar to “Midare Uchi” in that it features a series of improvisations on a drum at the center of the stage. Where it differs from the bon daiko-based piece, however, is in the basic rhythmic foundation. It was the first Sukeroku Taiko piece composed in compound time, a meter in which each beat is subdivided into 3 parts. Additionally, group members began to experiment with the theatrical possibilities afforded to them as they played for audiences, and “Oiuchi Daiko” was sometimes performed “with a masked character called Hyotoko, who comes out and does a comical routine,” as seen in the video below (Endo 1999, 30):

“Oiuchi Daiko” introduced new musical and theatrical elements into the Sukeroku Taiko performance style, but it is perhaps more important for its part in the development of what has become perhaps the signature Sukeroku-style piece: “Yodan Uchi” (四段打ち “Hitting Four Sides”) This piece, which originated as a smaller version called “Nidan Uchi” (二段打ち “Hitting Two Sides,” still played today), brought the choreographic experimentation and improvisatory emphases of early Sukeroku work. Striking for its visual elements as much as its musical content, “Yodan Uchi” has been described as “probably the single most popular piece among practitioners of kumi daiko outside of Japan” (Endo 1999, 20)

The Origins of “Nidan Uchi”/”Yodan Uchi”

Even as “Nidan Uchi”/“Yodan Uchi” – which, as shall be discussed, can really be considered as two parts of a largely whole – have been ubiquitous in the contemporary taiko performance world, its origins are not entirely clear. Indeed, in his 1999 ethnomusicology masters’ thesis on “Yodan Uchi,” Kenny Endo presents two different versions of the work’s origins as told to him by the original members of Sukeroku Taiko. The first comes from Kowase Susumu, the manager of the group, corroborated at the time by Mochizuki Saburo, Tosha Kiyonari, and Ishikura Yoshihisa:

“Mr. Susumu Kowase (presently Sasazo Kineya II) claims to have gotten inspiration watching a performance of the Little Angels, a Korean women’s dance group which performed a piece utilizing three drums per performer. …He encouraged the four members to development a piece using similar movement on two drums using the bass beat of “Oiuchi Daiko.” (Endo 1999, 24)

The Korean piece observed by Kowase was probably the samgo-mu (삼고무), a drum dance in which a performer moves between three drums hanging at eye-level on wooden stands. One stand is placed on each side of the performer, and one behind. The drummer utilizes all the drums, sometimes hitting them simultaneously and sometimes moving quickly between them. While it can be performed by a single person, it is typically performed by a group (resulting in a row of drums):

Meanwhile, another version of the “Nidan” origin story comes from Kobayashi Seido, who told Endo that he based the work on Oni Daiko from Sado Island, “a traditional masked drumming tradition which uses short sticks and dance-like movements” (Endo 1999, 25).

Further muddling the issue, Mochizuki Saburo gives a different version of the story in a December 2012 letter:

This work was composed in 1968 when I traveled as a member of Sukeroku Taiko to the United States for an approximately three month performance tour of San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas. At the San Francisco and Los Angeles performances, since the stages were round, we needed a movement that would fit those stages, and the work was quickly created. It was the work that took the most time amongst all the pieces to that point. At the beginning it was a two-stand style – “Nidan Uchi” – but after I returned to Japan we created the cross movements, and it became “Yodan Uchi.” (Personal communication, December 2012)

The tour mentioned by Mochizuki was an overseas tour by singer Yukimura Izumi, in which some Sukeroku Taiko accompanied her in “one month of performances at San Francisco’s Circle Theater, one month in Los Angeles, and two weeks in Las Vegas” (Mogi 2010, 39).

The true history of “Nidan Uchi”/”Yodan Uchi” is still unclear, but it probably includes elements of all these stories. Certainly, the choreographic movements used by Sukeroku Taiko members certainly have much in common which those used in samgo-mu and Oni Daiko, and Sukeroku Taiko members did accompany Yukimura Izumi on her tour. And yet, it is not the history of the work that has caused it to have such a lasting effect on the contemporary taiko performance, but the work itself. Sukeroku Taiko members blended improvisation and choreographed movement on a completely different scale from what had come before, resulting in something that Shawn Bender calls “a cross between their Bon-daiko history and the back-and-forth improvisation of jazz” (Bender 2003, 82).

Instrumentation

Owing perhaps to the settings in which it was performed – whether that is an American tour in which the audience surrounded the players, or in a cabaret where space was limited – the instrumentation of “Nidan Uchi” consists of just two drums: a medium-sized nagadō-daiko (chū-daiko), and a larger nagadō-daiko (ō-daiko). The ō-daiko is placed on a four-legged stand that holds the drum parallel to the ground with the middle of the drumhead at or slightly below eye level. Such a stand is used in many different places and musical situations in Japan, but the Sukeroku Taiko members most likely were influenced by its use in in the kuromisu of kabuki, the offstage room in which the geza ongaku ensemble creates sound effects and other musical cues (thus continuing the influence of hōgaku-hayashi, which can be seen in the musical content of the piece as well).[2]

Meanwhile, the chū-daiko is placed on the slanted naname-dai that is the signature stand of the Sukeroku-style, derived initially from its usage in bon daiko in the Shitamachi area of Tokyo. This drum is placed beside the ō-daiko so that the two heads are facing each other (the titular two heads, or ni-dan, of the piece). The drums are placed just far enough away from each other that a player can hit both at the same time while still having enough room to switch easily from one side of the drum to the other.

It could be said that “Nidan Uchi” – like pieces like “Shiraume Daiko” – demonstrates some of the influences and styles that were being integrated by Sukeroku Taiko members in the early days of the group. Whereas “Shiraume Daiko” used musical influences, though, “Nidan Uchi” took the fundamental instrumental instrumentation and performance practices of bon daiko and hōgaku-hayashi, using them for new musical and choreographic experimentation.

In a standard performance of “Nidan Uchi”, a soloist will stand in between the ō-daiko and chū-daiko, while two more players stand on the other of each of the drums, playing the base beat while the soloist improvises (as seen in the picture below). However, as the accompanying player standing outside of the chū-daiko would damage the drum if they hit the body, Sukeroku Taiko members started attaching a patch of rawhide to the side of the drum.[3]

Members of Oedo Sukeroku Taiko playing "Nidan Uchi" at the 1985 Tsukuba World Expo. Screenshot from a video from a private collection.

Members of Oedo Sukeroku Taiko playing “Nidan Uchi” at the 1985 Tsukuba World Expo. Screenshot from a video from a private collection.

“Yodan Uchi” expands on this foundation by adding a second chū-daiko on the other side of the ō-daiko (seen below). The titular “four heads,” then, are the two sides of the ō-daiko and the two heads of the chū-daiko that face the ō-daiko. Not only does this allow another soloist to play, but it also sets the stage for a wider range of choreographic possibilities in “Yodan Uchi” than what might be possible in “Nidan Uchi” (as will be discussed later).

Members of Oedo Sukeroku Taiko playing "Yodan Uchi." Screenshot from the 2004 DVD 'Les Tambours de Tokyo LIVE,' published by Sunset France.

Members of Oedo Sukeroku Taiko playing “Yodan Uchi.” Screenshot from the 2004 DVD Les Tambours de Tokyo LIVE, published by Sunset France.

Depending on the number of performers in a concert, other players not hitting the two/three drums at the center of the stage may accompany the main performers on whatever other instruments are on the stage, such as shime-daiko or other nagadō-daiko. The number of instruments that can be used is limited only by the number of performers and available space. At its core, however, “Nidan Uchi” is a simple piece requiring just two drums, and “Yodan Uchi” requiring just one more.

The Music of “Nidan Uchi”

Fundamentally, “Nidan Uchi” is a series of improvisations sandwiched by brief composed opening and closing segments. It begins with a quick flurry of notes by the player on the backside of the ō-daiko – that is, the head that is by its own and not facing the chū-daiko. The ensemble then begins a kakegoe vocalization akin to that used in “Shiraume Daiko,” revealing the continued influence hōgaku-hayashi studies were having on the members of Sukeroku Taiko in the late 1960s. Then, the ō-daiko player begins to play the ji – a transcription of which is below – as the first soloist moves through a series of poses.

The ji used in "Nidan Uchi"

The ji used in “Nidan Uchi”

Once the soloist reaches their final pose, they play a quick rhythmic pattern to signal the beginning of the main section of the piece:

Yodan opening

This transcription betrays the limitations of Western notation when discussing “Nidan Uchi,” for the above transcription doesn’t dictate what drum the notes are played on: in the first two measures, the long note and second of the two notes are played on the chū-daiko, while the second of the short notes is played on the chū-daiko. One the ji pattern is reached in the third measure, meanwhile, the rhythm is played solely on the chū-daiko:

Yodan opening w drums

After this initial flurry, the soloist begins his improvisation. Much like the improvisations in “Midare Uchi,” “Nidan Uchi” rhythms are composed at the whim of the soloist, albeit within a series of conventions. Indeed, two main patterns are regularly used by soloists. The first – which for the purposes of this article I call Rhythm 1 is played while stationary on one side of the drums:

Yodan rhythm 1

It can either be played on a single drum or, more commonly, on both the ō-daiko and the chū-daiko. The order in which the drums are played in this second instance often depends on the position of the player: if they are facing the audience, and thus the ō-daiko is on their right (the audience’s left), then the first note is played on the chū-daiko and subsequent notes on the ō-daiko. If it is the opposite, and the player is standing their back to the audience (and thus the ō-daiko is on their left), then the first note is played on the ō-daiko. In other words, the first note is played on the left drum with the right hand, and the subsequent notes on the right drum:

Yodan rhythm 1 w drum names

Meanwhile, there are pre-determined movements that go with this rhythm: when hitting a drum with one hand, you point outwards with the other hands. The position of the point is seemingly determined by group conventions; some groups make a difference between the two arms by having the one by the chū-daiko being straight while that by the ō-daiko being at a 45-degree angle, while others just have angled points. Regardless, it is not simply a hit with one hand, but a combination of hitting and choreographed movement.

This combination of rhythm and choreographed movement is even more apparent in the second most prominent rhythm (which I call Rhythm 2):

Yodan rhythm 2

Rhythm 2 is most commonly played when moving from one side of the drum to the other. The first note is played on the left drum, and all subsequent hits on the right. Similar to the first rhythm, there are certain visual conventions that have been adopted by groups during this rhythm, the most prominent being the movement of the arms/bachi in such a manner than the lines move in an X shape across the drum head. This “X pattern” – along with the two rhythms discussed above – were first used in “Oiuchi Daiko,” and remain the most prominent link between that early Sukeroku Taiko and “Nidan Uchi.”

The main body of the piece consists of a series of improvised solos, with the transition between each player signaled by a repeated rhythm by the soloist (itself a variation of the second rhythm discussed above):

transition rhythm

The soloist repeats the rhythm in brackets a number of times as they move between the drums – the number of repeats is left up to the soloist, but is typically four – and then the next soloist enters while playing the same rhythm. The tempo during each solo is increased with each subsequent improvisation, speeding up until the final soloist is moving at a frenzied pace.

Finally, the last soloist signals the end to their solo by playing the transition rhythm, stopping their movement with their back to the audience. They then play the ji for a short while on the ō-daiko before they and the other ō-daiko player play a short interlude, which concludes with an extended ostinato of the ji as the soloist moves from one side of the drum, arching their back to keep playing the ō-daiko as they move (a movement taken from the Korean samgo-mu).

Once in position facing the audience, the soloist plays a short rhythm that signals the transition into the final section of “Nidan Uchi.” Whereas everything prior to the brief transition was improvised, the ending is completely predetermined in terms of both rhythm and movement. Indeed, Endo lists several movements that are used extensively in the ending, each of which has its own related rhythm:

Aiuchi (two drummers facing each other between the odaiko and chudaiko), san nin mawari (three drummers rotating around a chudaiko as they turn between the chudaiko and odaiko), cross section (two drummers rotating at the same time between the odaiko and chudaiko). (Endo 1999, 25)[4]

Three players move to the chū-daiko for the ending section of “Nidan Uchi,” each taking a turn playing the transition rhythm before jumping away from the drum. After each has performed the transition rhythm, they then proceed into the san-nin mawari section, where each person plays Rhythm 2 once and jumps out of the way so the next player can immediately enter. After two rotations of san-nin mawari occur – that is, each of the three players performing Rhythm 2 twice total –the first player makes one more half-turn, moving to the other side of the drum as they play Rhythm 2 and stopping with their back to the audience. The second player moves to the drum as well, and the two then proceed into the aiuchi section, a combination of Rhythms 1 and 2 (following the same conventions as before, in that Rhythm 1 is played on a single side of the drums while Rhythm 2 is played while moving between the drums). This aiuchi signals the end of the piece, concluding with an extended transition rhythm segment as the two drummers move between the drum. Finally, “Nidan Uchi” concludes with a short roll by all players, a quick kakegoe call, and one last hit on the drum.

“Yodan Uchi”

The musical and visual foundation of “Nidan Uchi” remain within “Yodan Uchi,” with the latter piece having been created when a second chū-daiko was added to the other side of the ō-daiko. The compositional structure is basically the same; rather, there is a different visual flair. Solos are performed on both sides of the ō-daiko, and musicians mirror each other when playing on each side. In essence, “Yodan Uchi” is simply “Nidan Uchi” performed on two different sides of the ō-daiko.

The “Yodan” Legacy

The “Yodan Uchi” that was first developed in the late 1960s is not the same as the “Yodan Uchi” that most groups perform today. One major addition has been the creation of an opening composed section that features the first two soloists, but this opening is not codified. For example, two groups – Matsuriza, founded by Ishikura Takemasa (brother of Sukeroku Taiko founder Ishikura Yoshihisa, and a former member of Kanto Abare Taiko, which was led by Yoshihisa), and the Kenny Endo Taiko Ensemble, founded by Kenny Endo (who studied with several original members of Sukeroku Taiko and played with Sukeroku Taiko and Oedo Sukeroku Taiko in the 1980s) – both play “Yodan Uchi” with similar opening sections. These sections share rhythms – suggesting a common ancestry – but with enough differences that they should be considered different arrangements.

Kenny Endo also brought in a variation of the ending segment in which drummers circle not only around the chū-daiko but the ō-daiko as well, something that is also used back in Japan by Oedo Sukeroku Taiko (this addition can be seen beginning at 07:00 in the video below):

Meanwhile, groups like the San Francisco Taiko Dojo have created their own openings, resulting in a piece that both is “Yodan Uchi” yet has a separate identity from the original version created by Sukeroku Taiko members:

The performance of “Yodan Uchi” by the San Francisco Taiko Dojo is worth special attention, for the San Francisco group was the first group outside of Japan to play not just “Yodan Uchi” but other Sukeroku Taiko pieces as well. Indeed, the creation of the San Francisco Taiko Dojo was due to a large part to Sukeroku Taiko. As mentioned before, in 1968 several members of the Tokyo-based group toured the western United States. After the performances in San Francisco, they were approached by a young man named Tanaka Seiichi. Early that year, Tanaka and some friends had borrowed a taiko from a local temple, built a mikoshi, and paraded around San Francisco’s Japantown during the San Francisco Cherry Blossom Festival.

After seeing the performances by Yukimura Izumi, Tanaka and two other young men approached Ishizuka Yutaka (Mochizuki Saburo) and asked him to teach them the fundamentals of the Sukeroku style. Ishizuka and two other members remained in San Francisco two weeks to give lessons in the Japan Center in San Francisco’s Japantown (Mogi 2010, 39). When it was time for them to leave, they unable to ship the drums back with them, so they left with Tanaka “an ō-daiko with a naname stand, 2 chū-daiko, and a basic set of shime-daiko” (Mogi 2010, 39). They also gave Tanaka permission to play some of the Sukeroku Taiko pieces, including “Yodan Uchi.” This process not only laid the foundation for contemporary taiko performance in the United States, but for the spread of the Sukeroku style outside of Japan.

Tanaka did not simply perform “Yodan Uchi” with the San Francisco Taiko Dojo; he also arranged it even further. Adding one more ō-daiko into the mix, he created “Rokudan Uchi” (六段打ち “Hitting Six Sides”), a piece that is played by other groups in the United States as well:

This process of expansion has been copied by other groups who have learned “Yodan Uchi” from Tanaka as well as from Sukeroku Taiko members. Soh Daiko in New York, for example, added a third ō-daiko, calling the resulting piece “Hachidan Uchi” (八段打ち “Hitting Eight Sides”):

Meanwhile, perhaps one of the more unique variations is “Many Sides,” performed by TAIKOPROJECT, which kept the single ō-daiko but added two more chū-daiko:

Groups have continued to experiment with the staging of “Nidan Uchi” and “Yodan Uchi,” using the flexibility of the instrumentation and simple nature of the music to create new arrangements that fit different performance venues. An extreme version of this was put on display by Oedo Sukeroku Taiko at The 8th Shibuya Music Festival on November 10, 2013. The group performed at a street crosswalk, and thus was surrounded by the audience. In response, they used 4 pairs of ō-daiko and chū-daiko, resulting in a unique extension of “Nidan Uchi” that demonstrates the flexibility of the composition (seen beginning at 04:15 in the video below):

Even more than forty years after its composition, “Nidan Uchi” and “Yodan Uchi” are one of the most visually striking pieces in the wadaiko repertoire. If you consider both works as two parts of a larger whole, it is perhaps the Sukeroku style’s signature piece, a blending of improvisational endeavors and visual acrobatics. Within the work, the soloistic tendencies that emerged at bon daiko competitions were combined with new visual and rhythmic influences to create a work that excited audiences at the clubs and cabarets that were the group’s primary performance sites. It was a giant step in the direction away from festival drumming and towards a new manner of drumming that was to be enjoyed simply as music.

Its popularity is evident in its regular presentation at large-scale taiko gatherings in the United States. Las Vegas Kaminari Taiko performed “Rokudan Uchi” to open the 2015 North American Taiko Conference’s Opening Session. Soh Daiko, meanwhile, played “Hachidan Uchi” at both the 2011 North American Taiko Conference Taiko Jam concert and the 2013 East Coast Taiko Conference concert. It can also be found at informal jams that open or close Furthermore, there are regularly workshops given on the “Nidan Uchi” style at taiko conferences.

NATC 2015 playing "Yodan Uchi" at the post-Taiko Jam reception

NATC 2015 participants playing “Yodan Uchi” at the post-Taiko Jam reception

And yet, the actual performance of “Nidan Uchi”/”Yodan Uchi” is limited by the permissions system in place for Sukeroku Taiko pieces.[5] Even as “Yodan Uchi” remains one of the most popular pieces, then, it has gained a sort of mystique, as its blending of taiko music and movement is enjoyed by many but performed by a few.

Works Cited

Bender, Shawn. 2003. “Drumming Between Tradition and Modernity: Taiko and Neo-Folk Performance in Contemporary Japan.” Doctor of Philosophy in Anthropology Ph.D Dissertation, University of California, San Diego.

Endo, Kenny. 1999. “Yodan Uchi: A Contemporary Composition for Taiko.”MA Thesis, University of Hawaii.

Mogi, Hitoshi. 2010. “Oedo Sukeroku Taiko 大江戸助六太鼓.” Taikorojii たいころじい [Taikology] 36:34-41.

Wong, Deborah. 2005. “Noisy intersection: ethnicity, authenticity and ownership in Asian American taiko.” In Diasporas and Interculturalism in Asian Performing Arts: Translating traditions, edited by Um Hae-kyung, 85-90. New York: Routledge.

Footnotes

[1] “Oiuchi” is a military term meaning to strike a final blow, or to attack a routed enemy or an enemy that is in retreat.

[2] Other usages of an ō-daiko and stand in such a way include within martial arts situations. The Asano Taiko manufacturer’s website notes that one type of stand can be found in judo and kendo dojos. http://www.asano.jp/shop/products/detail.php?product_id=463

Meanwhile, due to its use in kagura, Shinto music and dance, this type of ō-daiko stand is sometimes called a kagura-dai (神楽台 “kagura stand”).

[3] A nagadō-daiko with a rawhide patch would itself become another signature visual of Sukeroku-influenced groups

[4]Aiuchi” means “joined hitting.” “San nin mawari,” meanwhile, means “three person rotation”; it can also be transliterated as san-nin mawari, owing to the fact that the word nin in this phrase is a counter, meaning three people (“san” is the Japanese word for three). Counters and their related numbers are often signified by a dash connected the two words; hence, “san-nin.”

[5] Only a few groups in the United States have permission to play pieces like “Midare Uchi,” the “Oroshi Daiko”/”Shiraume Daiko”/”Matsuri Daiko” suite, and “Nidan Uchi”/”Yodan Uchi.”

There was some controversy about this in the late-1990s and early-2000s; for more, see Deborah Wong’s 2005 book chapter “Noisy Intersection: Ethnicity, Authenticty and Ownership in Asian American Taiko.” (Wong 2005)

Oroshi Daiko/Shiraume Daiko/Matsuri Daiko

When Shin On Taiko debuted in 1967 at the Tokyo club Crown, they presented to audiences a unique style of taiko performance. In pieces like “Midare Uchi,” members showcased the bon daiko skills they had honed in competitions across Tokyo. The soloistic, theatrical flairs they had developed were popular in clubs and cabarets across the Japanese capital, and even after Shin On Taiko folded and reemerged as Sukeroku Taiko, they managed to garner great responses from audiences.

Yet, audiences were not seeing simply bon daiko in Sukeroku Taiko performances. Rather, from the beginning of the activities the members drew from a variety of sources when honing their craft. While early performance direction for Shin On Daiko came from Sanada Minoru, he was a dancer, and “could not offer guidance for real taiko performance” (Mogi 2010, 36). Instead, the true musical instruction of Ishizuka Yutaka, Kobayashi Seido, Onozato Motoe, and Ishikura Yoshihisa was provided by Kineya Sasazou, the musician in charge of hōgaku (邦楽) performance at the National Theater in Chiyoda-ku; For three months, Kineya taught members the fundamentals of hōgaku-hayashi (邦楽囃子), the music of theatrical genres like noh and kabuki. Through this training, Sukeroku Taiko members gained a level of technical and musical sophistication that would push their skills to a new level.

Hōgaku-hayashi

Hōgaku ensembles – also called hōgaku-hayashi – consist of wind instruments (flutes, primarily) and drums. The ensemble used in noh, for example, typically consists of a nohkan, a high-pitched bamboo flute, and three types of drums – a ko-tsuzumi, an ō-tsuzumi, and a shime-daiko (sometimes simply called the taiko). Kabuki ensembles, meanwhile, also use a shamisen – a plucked string instrument – and a bamboo flute called a takebue.

Also contributing to kabuki performances is a group of musicians that play in a small room just offstage called the kuromisu (黒御簾 “black curtain”). Called the geza ongaku (下座音楽 “offstage music”), this ensemble is charged with creating sound effects and other musical cues not performed by the musicians on stage. Musicians in the kuromisu utilize a wide variety of instruments, including – most prominently – the ō-daiko, used for both musical and atmospheric purposes; for example, to indicate that snow is falling or it is thundering.

Mogi lists several elements of hōgaku-hayashi learned from Kineya Sasazou that were influential on the development of the future members of Sukeroku Taiko: “the basic performance practices of hōgaku-hayashi, along with phrasing, the way of producing the voice, the organization of the right and left hands (dividing when to alternately hit the right and left bachi and when to hit at the same time), and the attachment of dynamics” (Mogi 2010, 36). The vocal gestures particular to hōgaku would especially help separate the Sukeroku style from other contemporary taiko styles that later developed. Called kakegoe (掛け声 “connecting voice”), they are stylized shouts used partially to keep time. More than just abstract vocal gestures, kakegoe are integral parts of the music; indeed, Malm notes that “a pattern is not correctly played unless both the drum sounds and calls are performed in the proper order” (Malm 2000, 143). Furthermore, these rhythmic patterns are a composite of the ko-tsuzumi and ō-tsuzumi parts together with the kakegoe.[1]

Just as the hōgaku usage of the voice became important to the development of the Sukeroku Taiko performance style, so did specific techniques for drums like the shime-daiko. In hōgaku, musicians make conscious efforts to produce distinct types of sounds; Malm lists four basic sounds: “small, medium, large, and muffled (shō, chū, dai, and osameru)” (Malm 2000, 141). Stylized movements are used both to play and to visually accentuate these sounds: for example, there is a sequence in which the left stick is drawn back towards the right shoulder before it comes down at an angle to hit the drum.

Sukeroku Taiko members took these performance techniques and combined them with those utilized in bon daiko, and then composed new pieces that reflected this new musical direction. This process resulted in the emergence of three works: “Oroshi Daiko,” “Shiraume Daiko,” and “Matsuri Daiko.” While the pieces can be performed separately, they are typically played as a suite. They serve as a demonstration of the manner in which even in the early stages of the group’s development, Sukeroku Taiko members were developing a style that was a step removed from the bon daiko-influenced music that had filled the majority of their early repertoire, becoming more complex both technically and compositionally. However, they did not merely draw from hōgaku-hayashi and bon daiko, but also looked to other festival musics performed in Tokyo to enhance their emerging style, including an old style of festival music called Edo-bayashi.

Matsuri-bayashi/Edo-bayashi

A common sight at matsuri (festivals) across Japan is an ensemble called a matsuri-bayashi (祭囃子 “festival ensemble”). With a standard orchestration in Tokyo of a shinobue, one smaller byō-uchi-daiko, two or three shime-daiko, and an atarigane, matsuri-bayashi provide much of the background music for matsuri. The ensemble provides the accompanying music that announces a mikoshi (神輿) – portable shrines believed to serve as palanquins for the gods – as community members carry it around during matsuri. As bearers carry the mikoshi to the various neighborhoods surrounding a Shinto shrine, the members of the matsuri-bayashi either walk behind a small cart upon which their instruments are mounted or ride upon floats called dashi.

A matsuri-bayashi cart during the route of a mikoshi procession. Sanja Matsuri, Asakusa, Tokyo. May 19, 2012. Photo by Benjamin Pachter.

A matsuri-bayashi cart during the route of a mikoshi procession. Sanja Matsuri, Asakusa, Tokyo. May 19, 2012. Photo by Benjamin Pachter.

A matsuri-bayashi cart during the Sanno Matsuri. Tokyo, June 10., 2012. Photo by Benjamin Pachter.

A matsuri-bayashi cart during the Sanno Matsuri. Tokyo, June 10, 2012. Photo by Benjamin Pachter.

Matsuri-bayashi sometimes also perform on the grounds of a shrine as the mikoshi is brought into the grounds, or at special stands placed along the route of the mikoshi. In the latter instance, they play the music when the mikoshi has stopped, allowing the musicians on the accompanying float to rest (as seen below).

A matsuri-bayashi in a booth along the route of a mikoshi procession. Sanja Matsuri, Asakusa, Tokyo. May 20, 2012. Photo by Benjamin Pachter.

A matsuri-bayashi in a booth along the route of a mikoshi procession. Sanja Matsuri, Asakusa, Tokyo. May 20, 2012. Photo by Benjamin Pachter.

The music played by matsuri-bayashi ensembles – also called matsuri-bayashi, as a general musical genre name – is often named according to the region in which it is played or where the music came from. For example, in his book on Japanese music William Malm writes: “there is a kandabayashi from the Kanda district of Tokyo, and the popular ensemble from the Asakusa area of Tokyo is called the edobayashi, for it is the repository for much of the festival music of old Tokyo (Edo), as is the district in which it is played” (Malm 2000, 58).

The edobayashi mentioned by Malm – or Edo-bayashi (江戸囃子), as I choose to transliterate it, to put emphasis on the location – is the festival music of Edo, the old name for Tokyo. Today it is performed primarily in the Asakusa area of Tokyo during festivals such as Sanja Matsuri. It consists of several pieces: “Yatai” (屋台, a name for the float upon which the matsuri-bayashi rides), “Kamakura” (鎌倉, a town south of Tokyo, an old capital of Japan) “Shōten” (昇殿, also transliterated by some “Shoden;” the entry into the sanctum of a shrine or temple), and “Shichōme” (四丁目, “Fourth Avenue,” referring to a street). Each piece is performed at different points during the procession; “Yatai” is played when the procession begins and ends, for example, while “Shichōme” is played when a mikoshi is entering/leaving the shrine or nearing a neighborhood representative booth.

Edo-bayashi music consists of quasi-interlocking rhythmic patterns divided amongst the shime-daiko, ō-daiko, and atarigane, played underneath a fue melody.[2] It is semi-improvisational in nature – that is, there are set parts, but depending on the circumstance it could be left to the performer to decide when to play a certain rhythm; as such, it has a feeling of spontaneity.[3]

One example of this music is below in an excerpt from the first performance of “Yatai” at the beginning of an Edo-bayashi cycle. Beneath a melody played on the fue, the shime-daiko players and atarigane player perform a series of interlocking patterns that combines loud and soft, accented and unaccented notes. Meanwhile, the ō-daiko player interjects several different rhythms that combine with the shime-daiko and atarigane parts, followed by periods of rest. The result is a complex combination of rhythms that has a semi-improvisation feel to it, with the different patterns of the instruments weaving in between each other.[4]

Edo-bayashi Yatai

“Oroshi Daiko,” “Shiraume Daiko,” and “Matsuri Daiko,”

Sukeroku Taiko members combined the musical complexity of Edo-bayashi and the technical elements of hōgaku-hayashi, resulting in the three-piece suite featuring “Oroshi Daiko,” “Shiraume Daiko,” and “Matsuri Daiko.” The instrumentation for these pieces takes its cue from matsuri-bayashi, featuring shime-daiko, nagadō-daiko, and ō-daiko).[5] The number of shime-daiko and nagadō-daiko can vary depending on the situation, but there are always multiple nagadō-daiko, as the works utilize rhythmic parts divided among the players.

Curiously, Sukeroku-influenced groups rarely play the suite today as it was first composed. “Oroshi Daiko” has largely gone unperformed, replaced by a work entitled “Shunrai” (“Thunder”). “Shunrai” has many similarities to “Oroshi Daiko” in terms of construction and development, enough that it can be considered a variant of the original. However, some groups do still play “Oroshi Daiko” – most prominently, the Kenny Endo Taiko Ensemble (KETE) in Honolulu, HI, as Endo learned the piece as a member of Oedo Sukeroku Taiko in the 1980s. The following discussion is based largely on KETE’s performances of the piece, augmented by discussions in the writings of Mogi and others. A performance of it can be seen in the video below, from 10:22 – 17:24.

“Oroshi Daiko”

“Oroshi Daiko” (おろし太鼓) is an introductory piece filled with dramatic drum rolls that rise and fall in volume and echo the work’s title (one meaning of oroshi is “wind blowing down the mountains”). According to founding Sukeroku Taiko member Mochizuki Saburo (the hōgaku performance name of Ishizuka Yutaka), “Oroshi Daiko” “was created by bringing together compositions [from kabuki-hayashi] like “Ichi-ban Daiko,” “Chakutō,” and “Uchi-dashi” that are even today performed as a ritual” (personal communication, December 2012).

The impact of “Ichi-ban Daiko” (一番太鼓) in particular is apparent in “Oroshi Daiko.” “Ichi-ban Daiko” – played to announce the beginning of a kabuki performance and the rising of the curtain – opens with a pair of hits on the rim of the ō-daiko. The drummer then starts a series of yama-oroshi, rolls that start slowly and get faster with each hit. The player then proceeds into a short 4-bar phrase that is repeated several times, gradually getting faster with each repeat:

Ichi-ban Daiko middle

Finally, “Ichi-ban Daiko” concludes with a short series of rhythms that gradually slow down, before finished with two fast hits on the drum.

The influence of “Ichi-ban Daiko” on the development of “Oroshi Daiko” is apparent from the beginning. Following an initial roll by each player, each instrument enters, joining a repeated chain of notes that gets faster with each entrance:

Oroshi_0001

The layering of parts is a common theme throughout “Oroshi Daiko”; following this opening, each musician then plays a drumroll in the same sequence in which they entered at the beginning of the piece. After the cycle of rolled entrances is repeated several times, the ensemble proceeds into a segment similar to the opening where each nagadō-daiko player entering in sequence. The music gets progressively faster and louder with each entrance, before the piece ends with one last roll:

Oroshi_0004

“Shiraume Daiko”

After “Oroshi Daiko” concludes, the ensemble moves immediately into “Shiraume Daiko” (白梅太鼓), meant to evoke images of the Yushima Tenjin shrine. To be more specific, the plum blossoms that bloom at the shrine – shiraume means white plum blossoms” – inspired Sukeroku Taiko members as they were creating the piece. According to Mochizuki Saburo, the piece “expresses through taiko these white plum blossoms, bearing the cold and blooming just a little, undaunted by snow” (personal communication, December 2012).

Like “Oroshi Daiko,” “Shiraume Daiko” draws from the kabuki hōgaku tradition, albeit in a different manner; it is notable for use of the kakegoe and osameru shime-daiko techniques mentioned above. After an ensemble member announces the title – a common practice in Sukeroku Taiko works, as we saw in “Midare Uchi” – they begin a long kakegoe, with the tone of the voice moving from low to high. The use of kakegoe is a signature of “Shiraume Daiko”; performers are required to not only hit the drum but also make vocal gestures as they play (much in the fashion of hōgaku-hayashi). The composition then proceeds with a series of phrases combining interplay between the different instruments (an example of which can been seen below – in this transcription, stems without a notehead indicate the rhythmic placement of kakegoe):[6]

Shiraume Daiko excerpt

While the kakegoe in “Shiraume Daiko” stands out, it is not the only hōgaku-hayashi technique used during the piece. The shime-daiko ostinato in the excerpt above is of interest, for it utilizes a particular hōgaku-hayashi technique called osameru.[7] Performers are required to use an osameru technique (indicated in the transcription with diamond-shaped noteheads), in which the bachi stays on the drumhead after hitting in order to muffle the sound. Meanwhile, the simultaneously production of kakegoe by the shime-daiko player as they continue with the osameru patterns also reflect common hōgaku practices.[8]

“Matsuri Daiko”

Whereas the first two pieces of the suite utilize hōgaku-hayashi techniques Sukeroku Taiko members learned from Kineya, the last piece – “Matsuri Daiko” (祭り太鼓) – puts on display elements from the matsuri-bayashi played in the Shitamachi area of Tokyo, particularly the complex rhythmic patterns on the shime-daiko and the interlocking nature of the music. Continuing a theme from “Shiraume Daiko,” “Matsuri Daiko” describes the moment when “the white flowers [of Yushima Tenjin] bloom, withstanding the cold” (Mochizuki Saburo, personal communication, December 2012). Much like Edo-bayashi, it is characterized features patterns on the shime-daiko combining loud and soft hits in quick succession, as well as rhythmic interplay between the various instruments.

“Matsuri Daiko” performances typically begin – much in the fashion of other Sukeroku Taiko pieces – with a player announcing the title. A four-bar introduction on the ō-daiko is followed by an extended phrase in which the ō-daiko and nagadō-daiko players trade four-bar rhythms while the shime-daiko player(s) move between a series of different patterns. This section is the core of “Matsuri Daiko,” appearing often during a performance:

Matsuri Daiko excerpt 1

The influence of Shitamachi festival music is revealed in the intricate rhythms on the shime-daiko combining accented and unaccented notes, as well as in the way in which the shime-daiko part alternates between different rhythmic patterns yet returns to one pattern in particular. Many times in Edo-bayashi., the fundamental pattern – or ji – alternates with another pattern before returning (as seen in the transcription above). In the beginning of “Matsuri Daiko” seen above, the shime-daiko performers return to the rhythm in measures 5 through 9 even after new ideas are introduced.

Another influence of Shitamachi festival music is found in the middle section of the piece, when a shime-daiko rhythm is accompanied by sporadic interjections by the nagadō-daiko that fit into the shime-daiko rhythm. This echoes elements seen in the above Edo-bayashi excerpt, when the ō-daiko in Edo-bayashi interjects into pauses in the shime-daiko part.

Matsuri Daiko excerpt 2

After this cross-play section and additional repeats of the first series of patterns discussed above, the ensemble then proceeds into a passage in which running sixteenth-note-based rhythms are spread amongst the nagadō-daiko players. Finally, “Matsuri Daiko” concludes with a combination of the opening rhythms with patterns on the heads and rims of the nagadō-daiko.

The Sukeroku Style Moves Forward

Both as individual compositions and when seen as a suite, “Oroshi Daiko,” “Shiraume Daiko,” and “Matsuri Daiko,” represent a dramatic shift from earlier Sukeroku Taiko works like “Midare Uchi.” There are no improvisations; rather, each work is a fully composed piece. Some of the visual elements taken from bon daiko are present – particularly in “Shiraume Daiko,” which features arm circles and points – but more prevalent are performance practices and musical material taken from other musical genres such as hōgaku and festival music of the Tokyo Shitamachi area.

As much as the improvisational nature of “Midare Uchi,” Sukeroku Taiko’s use of specific compositional techniques and performance practices from festival music – such as the intricate rhythms and interlocking patterns of Edo-bayashi – in original compositions like “Matsuri Daiko” was a step forward for not just Sukeroku Taiko but indeed the emerging genre of ensemble taiko performance. The “Oroshi Daiko”/“Shiraume Daiko”/“Matsuri Daiko” demonstrated the complexities within the grasp of Sukeroku Taiko. This affected not only the group’s musical direction, however, but also its future in terms of membership. Indeed, the act of taking lessons with Kineya Sasazou caused both Ishizuka Yutaka and Onozato Ganei to decide to enter into the world of hōgaku performance. Ishizuka entered into the Mochizuki school of hōgaku performance through Kineya’s introduction, eventually receiving the stage name (natori) Mochizuki Saburo in 1972. Onozato, meanwhile, became a student of Tosha Yuho, a hōgaku performer that he had met on a concert tour; in 1977, he received the natori Tosha Kiyonari (Mogi 2010).

The combination of hōgaku-hayashi and matsuri-bayashi resulted in a unique style of performance now known as the Sukeroku-ryū. Upon a soloistic foundation developed in bon daiko competitions, members added various compositional and technical influences that would push them in new directions. This influence can still be felt today, for many pieces written by Sukeroku-influences groups and individuals bring together elements of both festival and theatrical music. The Sukeroku-ryū has evolved – partially as the original members of the group have gone their separate ways and developed unique styles – but the fundamentals learned and honed in the early years of the group remain.

Works Cited

Malm, William P. 1960. “An Introduction to Taiko Drum Music in the Japanese No Drama.” Ethnomusicology 4 (2):75-78.

Malm, William P. 1975. “Shoden: A Study in Tokyo Festival Music. When Is Variation an Improvisation?” Yearbook of the International Folk Music Council 7:44-66.

Malm, William P. 2000. Traditional Japanese Music and Musical Instruments: The New Edition. New York: Kodansha America, Inc.

Mogi, Hitoshi. 2010. “Oedo Sukeroku Taiko 大江戸助六太鼓.” Taikorojii たいころじい [Taikology] 36:34-41.

Schnapper, Laurie. 2013. Ostinato. In Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online.: Oxford University Press.

Footnotes

[1] A detailed discussion of hōgaku drumming patterns is found in Williams Malm’s 1960 article “An Introduction to Taiko Drum Music in the Japanese No Drama.” (Malm 1960)

[2] This ō-daiko is a byō-uchi-daiko that is not the same size as the ō-daiko used in hōgaku-hayashi and modern taiko ensembles, but is named so merely because it is larger than the shime-daiko.

[3] For a discussion of this topic, see Malm’s 1975 article “Shoden: A Study in Tokyo Festival Music. When Is Variation an Improvisation?” (Malm 1975)

[4] The x-shaped noteheads in the atarigane part represent a hit on the inside of the handheld gong, and the filled noteheads are hits in the center. The open diamond-shaped noteheads in the shime-daiko part, meanwhile, represent soft hits.

The notes above the systems – “yatai-gashira,” “ji-gashira,” “ji,” and “musubi” – represent the names for these parts of the music, given at the top of the original score.

[5] Some groups add bamboo flute as well, but does this not appear to be part of normal performance practice, and as such will not be considered in the following discussion

[6] While each individual nagadō-daiko drummer has their own part in “Oroshi Daiko,” they play as a group in “Shiraume Daiko.”

[7] The term “ostinato” refers to “the repetition of a musical pattern many times in succession while other musical elements are general changing.” (Schnapper 2013)

[8] Interestingly, according to Mochizuki Saburo the piece did not originally feature kakegoe; rather, he added the gestures after he began learning kabuki-hayashi (personal communication, December 2012). However, given the inclusion of kakegoe in early Sukeroku Taiko pieces – as well as works composed by descendant groups – it is worth including a discussion of it in this article.