Drumming Around the Mountain for 20 Years

The couple still remember the warning from friends some 20 years ago.

Moving to this far-flung, predominantly white mountain town would be social and cultural suicide, they said.

But Russel Hisashi Baba and Jeanne Aiko Mercer, Japanese American marital and musical partners, knew what they could get from the breathtakingly beautiful town of Mount Shasta -- and what they could give back.

The unbridled rhythms of nature inspired their creativity, and they found solace in small-town living. In return, they offered lessons in racial diversity and ancient traditions through taiko -- a vibrant Japanese drumming technique.

“We realized that this community could use something like drums,” said San Francisco native Baba, 56. “We saw how sorely needed it was, not just as a learning tool, but to introduce a different cultural style. By teaching, we felt we were adding something.”

These days, what started as a casual band of family and friends in 1985 has mushroomed into Shasta Taiko -- a drumming ensemble that has attracted students ages 6 to 74, and is spreading a thunderous message of festivity and harmony.

It’s not unusual to find taiko ensembles in Los Angeles and other large California cities, but Mount Shasta is certainly an unlikely venue.

City officials and residents say taiko drumming has made Mount Shasta -- population 3,600 or so, and named for the 14,162-foot snow-capped volcano that towers over it -- more cosmopolitan than other towns in this remote region of Northern California.

“It brings a different dimension to the Mount Shasta area,” said Mike Rodriguez, administrator for the Mount Shasta Recreation and Parks District, which sponsors Shasta Taiko together with the California Arts Council. The funding allows the drumming classes to be offered for free. “The program they offer through the Recreation and Parks District has pretty much put us on the map.”

The ensemble has six people, including a masseuse, a schoolteacher, a store manager and a high-school student. But at times the participants have numbered as many as 30. They rehearse at least three hours a week. Once a year they stage a community concert -- the musicians say it typically sells out -- and many of them have toured the country.

“There’s something about drumming that people respond to,” said Mercer, 60, who was born in an internment camp in Idaho during World War II and grew up in Anchorage. “It’s like the heartbeat. The fact that it is Japanese is even better, because people learn something about our culture.”

Baba estimated there are fewer than a dozen Japanese Americans living in Mount Shasta.

Taiko has its roots in Japanese folk traditions and religion. Farmers used drums in planting and harvesting rituals. And warriors used taiko to intimidate enemies and frighten away evil spirits.

It can take years to master even the basics of this age-old art. Baba and Mercer started learning taiko in their 20s in San Francisco under taiko master Seiichi Tanaka, who is credited with introducing and fostering Japanese drumming in North America.

Shasta Taiko’s repertoire draws from many of Baba and Mercer’s original compositions, some based on traditional Japanese beats, others on jazz and eclectic world sounds. A brass gong, struck with a deer-antler mallet, and a bamboo flute add harmony.

Mark Miyohsi, a self-taught drum maker who moved to Mount Shasta from Denver almost three decades ago, is responsible for crafting most of Shasta Taiko’s drums.

At his hillside home workshop, he manipulates wood, including ash and oak, for the body of each drum. He carves the cylinder’s interior to enhance the sound. Fresh hides are stretched to mold the instrument’s head. The hides are then sewn onto steel rings around the rim of the barrel.

The finished drums vary in size and go by such names as Nagado Daiko, Chu-Daiko, Shime Daiko and Okedo.

“The drum has a spirit,” said Baba, who is also an accomplished jazz musician. “Even though the materials are dead, when we play [the drums] come alive.”

A flurry of beats boomed out from the ensemble’s practice hall at the Rod and Gun Club one recent afternoon. Intense concentration etched the drummers’ faces as they stood -- legs wide apart, as if bracing for combat -- methodically striking their instruments.

Each played a solo on the giant Okedo, accompanied by a chorus of smaller drums. They swayed energetically, leaping from one drum to another, at times emitting deep grunts.

“I love the physicality of it,” said Onessa, 59, a massage therapist who goes by her first name. She started drumming four years ago and is Shasta Taiko’s newest member. “I love the tradition, the ceremony, the music. It puts me in touch with a personal power.”

“It makes me have more energy,” said Kelsey Demarest, 17, the ensemble’s youngest member, who started drumming at age 6 and practices with her fingers on her school desk. “I always come away with a smile.”

Third-grade teacher Julie Bennett, 55, a former dancer, says she’s enthralled by the choreography that complements the drumming. And Wanda Welbourn, a drummer for 13 years, says the stamina required for taiko keeps her healthy.

“It’s a great way to grow old,” said Welbourn, 51. “It’s so uplifting.”

And it has helped unite and diversify a typically ordinary town.

“It brings a group consciousness for the people who play taiko with us,” said Baba. “And the community has started to embrace it as something helpful and wholesome.”