The Heartbeat of Taiko

It’s an impressive sight--30 or more barrel-shaped Japanese taiko drums set in a half circle across the stage of the Japan America Theatre. And an impressive sound as well--a rolling rhythmic thunder, delivered with enthusiastic vigor.

But this is not a performance by professional taiko artists. Although the setting resembles the staging of the popular Kodo drum ensemble, the theater seats are empty, and standing behind the drums is a polyglot group of players whose age and ethnic mix are far more varied than those of the Japanese drummers. They are participants in a Sunday afternoon workshop--an opportunity for amateurs and aficionados to receive firsthand guidance from Kodo drummers Eiichi Saito and Shinichi Sogo and vocal specialist Yoko Fujimoto.

“I’m here because taiko speaks to your heart,” says participant Grace Kurushima. “It doesn’t speak to everyone in the same way, but its strength of spirit is what connects us all--like one heartbeat.”

Like most of the other players, Kurushima, 44, belongs to a local taiko group, in her case a Methodist church ensemble, a rare Christian taiko ensemble (for centuries, the instrument has commonly been found in Shinto and Buddhist temples and shrines).

The session begins with a kind of game. The players sit cross-legged on the floor in a semicircle, holding their own pair of large drum sticks. Facing them, Saito, Sogo and Fujimoto lead what starts as a simple tapping of the sticks on the floor. But the game soon becomes more complex, involving switching sticks from one hand to another, tossing and catching them, while playing a repetitive rhythm. In fact, it is the underlying foundation for a traditional song, “Tozan Bayhashi.”

As errant sticks skid across the floor with players in hot pursuit, Fujimoto adds another element to the exercise, singing a sweetly simple melody to accompany the stick action. More laughter is generated by the sometimes awkward efforts to coordinate hands and voices.

The game goes on for about 15 minutes. Then the instructors send the players to the drums. With Saito leading, the collective sound of singing and drumming comes together with surprising ease.

“Play strongly, with confidence,” he shouts, with translation help from Kodo tour manager Daniel Rosen. “If you make a mistake, people will think it was intentional. But if you play timidly it will sound as though you are making a mistake even if you are playing correctly.”

Taiko’s origins are veiled in the mists of history, but it seems likely that the drums have been in use, in a form similar to the contemporary instruments, for more than 2,000 years. Taiko ensembles began to emerge in Japan and the U.S. in the post-World War II years, sometimes via clubs, sometimes at shrines. Kodo, founded in 1981, and known for its mix of traditional taiko and contemporary expression, was one the pioneering professional troupes to take the art form around the world.

Based in its own village on Japan’s Sado Island, Kodo now includes more than 40 performers and staff members. The basic Kodo ensemble of 16 players tours regularly; last month in L.A., it filled Royce Hall for five consecutive performances.

This year’s U.S. Kodo tour is the first one to make a point of teaching local players. “The workshops,” Rosen says, “ are a way for Kodo to spread the word about taiko in a way that is more intimate than the concert performances. They take the company back to a time--15 years ago--when it was in its early stages, not yet playing big places such as Royce Hall and Carnegie Hall.” Sessions are planned in Denver, Chicago, Boston, New York and Washington, D.C.--all places, that like L.A., have thriving taiko communities.

When the workshop begins again after a short break, improvisation is on the agenda. First, Fujimoto asks the participants to sing a note, any note. Then, surrounded by a dense cluster of vocal sound, she teaches a brief melodic fragment to one group after another, slowly building a kind of instant choral work that is gradually supplemented by hand-clapping and drumming.

Urged on by Saito, the drumming takes over, with one student after another taking solo passages, sometimes on two or three drums, while others dance across the center of the circle.

Beyond the sheer exuberance of moments like these, what a Kodo workshop seems to offer is something that reaches into areas beyond the drumming itself.

“Their spirituality, the approach they take, individually and as a group, the way they work together, and how they’re comfortable with themselves are what appeal to me,” says Eric Chang, a recent UCLA graduate. “Add to that the power and the energy I experienced when I first saw a Kodo performance, and I felt it was something I had to do.”

At the end of the day, as the players slowly disperse, many carting away their own taiko drums, Fujimoto adds a final thought about the appeal of taiko.

“There are different links of identity with taiko,” she says. “One is that it serves as an important connection to our culture for Japanese Americans.”

And, noting the preponderance of women in the workshops, she adds that, for them, taiko has become a particularly important means of expression.

“In Japanese society,” Fujimoto explains, “women have played a supporting role, second to men, second to their husbands. And even if they have talent, they don’t bring it to the forefront. The taiko has become a way for women to break out of that role, to be expressive, to open up.”

One of the women drummers seconds her: “It’s definitely empowering, but it’s more than that. It’s a connection that is almost indescribable, because you become one with the drum. Everything is connected. You respect the taiko because of its own life. Because within it there is love, passion and power.”