My Warabi-za experience challenged my skills as a performer and as a person.
The curriculum of my program with Warabi-za was designed upon my personal interests. I was informed about all the different possibilities, and from there I was able to select what I desired to learn. Each of my teachers donated their personal time to instruct me. My lessons were private -1 to 1- due to my language handicap. I learned Japanese folk dance, shamisen, koto, and minyo.
I received a very unique experience to be able to learn such a diverse amount of study. The teaching that I received was intensive, and all of my instructors did not expect anything less than the best from me. Knowing that I had only a short time to learn, each of my teachers pushed me to become accustomed quickly.
I will share what I learned within each of my studies - my general lesson curriculum, the basic training structure, and my personal experiences.
Lesson Structure
My main study here at Warabi-za was dance. Shohei Kikuchi was my teacher. He
is one of the main choreographers for Warabi-za and serves as the artistic director.
He taught me about 6 times a week for 2 hour lesson. Within my stay, I learned
7 Japanese folk dances(minzoku buyo) - Soran Bushi,Jongkara, Ecchu Owara, Nishimonai
Bon Odori, Jangara, Sansa Odori, and Hana Ta Ue.
My lessons were very challenging and strict. The lesson would begin by performing the dances that I had learned to that date. I would basically perform a mini-concert every day. Within the remaining time of the lesson, I would learn new material.
Shohei constantly pushed me to analyze my body. Within each of the dances, I learned something new about myself.
History
Soran Bushi is a fisherman's dance. This dance was actually choreographed by
Warabi-za members about 50 years ago. It reenacts men going out to sea to catch
fish and bring it home.
Personal Experience
This was the first dance that I learned. It was sort of a review because I had
learned this dance through San Jose Taiko. Since I started with something familiar,
it made my first experience learning from Shohei a bit easier due to our language
gap.
This dance taught me to communicate using my body. I had to believe that I was
really a fisherman going out to sea working hard to catch fish. It pushed me
to embody the different images-feel the weight of the heavy ropes, see the ocean
sky, etc.
History
Jongkara is a very energetic dance that originates from Aomori-ken. It is a
very quick dance that has many moves. The hands are very sharp, almost combative
reflecting the hard life and fighting spirit of the people. It is a dance that
takes pride in their homeland.
Personal Experience
Jongkara taught me to be proud of who I am and where I come from. I was told
to find things that I was proud of from my own home. Initially I could not think
of anything. I searched deep within myself, and realized that there were many
things that I took prid in. I wrote these things on a paper-friends, family,
San Jose Obon, San Jose Tofu, Oxnard strawberries, Grandma, Great-Grandmother's
shamisen, San Jose JA community. Every time I practiced, I would pin the paper
on the wall so that I could see it while I danced. I wanted to show people who
I really was. Since I no longer had language skills, I wanted to communicate
my life through this dance.
History
This dance is rated one of the "prettiest" Obon dances in Japan. It
originates in Toyama-ken. The tempo is slow, and the dance movement is connected
to the images of the rice field.
Personal Experience
This dance challenged me to move my body like a "woman." In general
my body was accustomed to a masculine style since America taiko uses a wide
stance with powerful movements. I had to learn how to project strength in a
different way.
Shohei choreographed two different versions of this dance. I often made many mistakes. I would get confused as to which version I was dancing at the time. I found that my mind often wandered to unimportant, non-dance related things. This dance taught me to focus. I had to learn how to clear my mind of the "busy-ness" and stay focused on the dance.
History
Nishimonai is a 600 year old dance that is also one of the most beautiful Obon
dances in Japan. There are two different dances - ganke and ondo. The movements
are very graceful, and the dance utilizes a hat that covers the entire face.
The only part that is exposed is the back of one's neck.
Personal Experience
Nishimonai will always be special to me because it is the first Obon that I
attended in Japan. It was a very special experience to actually dance within
the actual place. Up to that point, I had always been learning to perform on
the stage. It was a unique to be able to feel how connected the dances are to
the real life of people.
Shohei also challenged me to create my own arrangement. It was the first time that I ever choreographed.
The balance between the music and dance is very difficult. The music is lively, yet the dance is very quiet and personal. This dance taught me to appear quiet and beautiful on the outside, but dance with a fire burning inside my body.
History
Originating from Fukushima-ken, Jangara is another Obon dance.
Personal Experience
When Shohei first introduced this dance to me, I thought the movements were
silly. Initially I had no desire to learn this dance. But as I learned the meaning
of the movements, this dance soon became a very special because it deepened
my relationship with taiko. Taiko became a means in which I could communicate
my feelings without words. My body and the sound of taiko become one in this
dance.
Around this time I was questioning why Obon dancing was so important. I always attended Obon within my hometown almost every year of my life. But American Obon is like a mini carnival. It was fun-a time to eat good food, play games, see old friends.
I learned the song that accompanied this dance, the words instantly connected to me answered my questions. Dancing was a means to remember, honor, communicate, and connect with loved ones that have passed through this life. It could be painful yet healing to the people who are still living.
This piece made me remember the important people that have passed through my life. Through Jangara their spirit awakens. When I dance I can show other people the strength that they embedded in me.
History
Personal Experience
I had a hard time finding a deep connection with this dance. I immediately enjoyed
it because it was a very lively, strong dance with taiko. I could feel strength
in doing this dance, but the initial enjoyment soon revealed a very superfical
relationship.
While practicing with the other kenkyusei(training members), I could feel myself losing my self-comfidence. I gradually felt like I could not dance- I felt clumsy, inexperienced, weak, stiff. As a sequence was arranged, I could feel myself feeling constrained. I could not enjoy the dance within the boundaries that were being created, and I felt fake when I was dancing.
Through the various personal problems, I realized the responsibilities of being a professional. Within my career I may not necessarily agree with the intent of the producer, choreographer or composer. But as a performer, it is my responsibility to make thier vision come alive. Within somebody else's vision, I can not lose what is important to me. With Sassa, I gradually lost my original enthusiasm and replaced it with a feeling of obligation.
Shohei challenged me to investigate my problem and find some deeper purpose. He challenged me to think about my self-confidence and my ability to believe in myself. He took me to a Jinja, and I realized what Sansa meant to me.
This dance became a means to honor the kamisama. Throughout my stay, I often visited the local jinja and made many wishes. It gave me comfort to make my requests during my hard times here. It was as if somebody was listening to me. Sansa became a means give my thanks to the spirit that listened to my heart.
History
Hana Ta Ue is one of oldest dances in Japan. It originates in Hiroshima-ken
and it is a "work" dance-for plating rice. The women plant the rice,
and the men encourage the woman by playing taiko.
My experience
What I deeply respected about this piece was that it makes a very hard, gruesome,
necessary duty into something to celebrate. This dance makes a chore into a
festival, special event.
I learned the taiko part, and I instantly connected with this dance. The movements are connected with one's breath. I could feel the power of letting that natural power move me. This dance really deepened my level of understanding dance and its connection to moving without force.
Odoei Reflections
I can not express properly the special relationship that unexpectedly formed
between me and Shohei. He is like a second father, my life mentor. I can undoubtedly
credit him to being the most important person that has influenced my performer
life. He taught me about the basics of being a performer, and the basics of
life through dance. He believed that I could do dance, and his expectation of
me was nothing less than professional status. He pushed me to become better
than I could ever have imagined of myself. He freely gave his time to me without
any hesitation, always treating my studies as very serious and important to
him.
I never thought I would be good at dancing. But Shohei believed in me more than I did for myself. His commitment to my improvement, made me committed to get to higher levels. I had to really look at my weak points and constantly ask "why?" It was painful to admit my faults to myself, but it was a way for me to truly improve my skills. He made me understand my own body, which gave me self-confidence within everything.
Lesson Structure
Kondo Masayuki(Konchan) was my shamisen teacher. He is a veteran performer at
Warabi-za, and had studied shamisen for about 6 years. I mainly learned Tsugaru
shamisen, a very fast-paced, driving shamisen style. I learned four pieces -
Dotarebachi, Rokudan,Adohadari, and Ringo Bushi. I also learned 2 minyo pieces
- Obonai Bishi and Hanagasa Ondo.
I would have lessons about once or twice a week for 2 hours. Konchan provided me with western music notation of the repertoire for my personal review during my own practice time. But during the lesson, I would learn strictly from copying him - listening to his patterns and watching his technique. Within the repertoire, he would teach me new shamisen techniques and basics. Generally he would drill the piece by playing each piece over and over until it became comfortable. Beginning in December he took me to his shamisen teacher occasionally, so I could hear his sound.
Shamisen Reflections
The shamisen has always been an instrument that has been close to my heart because
my great-grandmother played this instrument. She had learned to play the shamisen
during World War Uwhen Japanese Americans were incarcerated in the relocation
camps. I believe that the shamisen kept her heart alive during these hard times.
At first the shamisen was a very frustrating instrument. Everything was difficult - finding the right pitch, hitting the right string, understanding the technique of the bachi, etc. Although there are only 3 strings, it is very hard to get a good sound immediately. Every day I would just practice hitting each string accurately. But as I gradually improved, I could feel that this instrument was very important to me. It was a way that I could remember my great-grandmother and keep her spirit alive.
Lesson Structure
Izumi Kuroki, a Warabi-za performer, was my koto teacher. We met 1-2 times a
week for an hour. Typically I would begin each lesson by presenting the material
that I had learned from the previous meeting. She would correct my technique.
If I had obtained a basic level of understanding, I would be able to proceed
to the next part. I learned the new material through sheet music, so I was introduced
to a completely new notation system. I began with a koto beginner's book, which
was a compilation of small melodies. It introduced me to the basic techniques
of koto. The first koto piece that I learned was Rokudan, one of the most famous
koto pieces. Proceeding that, I learned a piece in depicting three images -
woodpecker,river, and blacksmith. In February I began to take lessons from her
koto teacher in Morioka.
Koto Reflections
I had a very weak interest in learning the koto. Previously I had a very brief
experience learning the koto at my college, which I had not pursued past the
beginning level. When the opportunity arose to learn the koto,I accepted because
I was slightly famillar with the instrument. Unlike the shamisen, I could immediately
produce a sound when I first began the koto. It was rewarding to be able to
play short melodies. But although at first I could easily do the basics, the
koto revealed itself into a complex instrument to master.
After my second happyoukai, I questioned why I wanted to continue playing koto. I realized that the koto was a very difficult instrument, and I did not feel that I could develop a strong commitment. During that happyokai performance, I was instantly shocked by the relationship with the audience. I felt that I could not keep their attention, and they were bored. I felt trapped because usually I could not use my body or eye contact to connect. But with the koto, I could only use the sound. It was painful to perform in front of people, and I could not maintain my composure.
That second happyokai pushed me to think about my relationship with the koto. I realized how difficult this instrument was, but it made me determined to take the challenge. I wanted to be able to express my passion through sound.
Lesson structure
I learned 3 minyo (Japan folk songs) within my one year - Daikokumai, Obonai
Bushi, Akita Obako. Aiko Minato was my teacher. She is the singing teacher for
the kenkyusei - training members. She taught me about twice a week for 30 -
45 minutes. I would begin each lesson with some vocal warm-ups, then I would
learn the song repertoire. Beginning in December, I was able to join the kenkyusei
in a special workshop with Kazuko Asano. She is a famous Akita minyo singer.
In March I began to take lessons from her in Akita.
Uta Experience
Singing was very hard for me at first. I had many hardships to overcome. Since
Japanese was not my native language, the words had no meaning for me and I could
not understand the pronunciation immediately. It was painful to hear my own
voice. My previous experience was always in playing musical instruments. The
sound was created by something else, not by myself.
But as I continued to pursue singing, my ear began to change. I gradually began to gain control of the inside of my body. Always I had trained to focus on the outside, but singing really challenged me to investigate my inside - how to create a sound from my body. Singing began to empower me. Like dance, singing seems so basic. I could learn how to use my body to communicate an art - I do not need to use some outside object ( like taiko, shamisen) to project myself.
I performed in 2 productions at Warabi-za. The first was Aya-Kaze Kirari. This program presented a collection of folk dances within a one and a half hour concert. This was a special performance that celebrated Warabi-za's 50th Anniversary. The dance arrangements were created to send a modern day message through these old folk dances. I played the taiko part in three songs - Haiya Bushi, Bon Mai, and Oyama Bayashi.
The second production was a musical, Aterui. I played the main taiko part within this show. Ateri depicted the history of the native people that resided in the Tohoku area.
participating in this program was an incredible challenge for me personally. I went into rehearsals not understanding a word that anybody was communicating to me. I had to learn my parts by watching people because I could no longer talk. The most simple directions were the most challenging for instance - when to enter the stage, what costume I was going to wear, etc. It was such a humiliating experience at the beginning. I had to start from ground zero and prove my skills. I was forced to become a beginner again.
Through this experience though I learned one of the most important lessons of why I want to be a performer. I realized the power of the arts. Since I lost the ability to speak, the only way that I could communicate was through my taiko. It was a special feeling to realize that I could play a "don suke don suku" with anybody without any problems. It was empowering to realize that the arts - dance, music, etc. could cross boundaries where language failed. I realized the simple fact that the profession that I was choosing was so necessary to living. It made me evaluate the purpose of what I am trying to do, and I realized that I could connect to people of any culture through my arts.
Through participating in this performance, I gained a new purpose as to why I wanted to be a performer. I wanted to show people my true intentions - my heart - through my performance. My hope is that it will make other people look within themselves to find their own personal happiness.
Aterui introduced me to a completely new medium of performance style - musicals. I only played taiko in this producction. Musically it was easy for me, but the challenge was the performance schedule. For 5 months I had to perform the same part almost every day. I had to learn how to keep the performance "fresh" every time.
This time was also a chance for me to analyze what taiko meant for me. I was given the responsibility of teaching taiko basics to the performers who played taiko within the musical. I taught for about 45 minutes three times a week. This was the first time that I was completely on my own to design the curriculum of the lessons. It was a good experience for me to critically think what is important for me to teach to people - what do I think are the basics of taiko? That is a question I never asked myself, and through the lessons that I gave I discovered new exercises and techniques that improved my own level of taiko.
I presented three happyokai in total during my studies here at Warabi-za. The purpose was for me to show what I had learned up to that present point. The performace was free for anybody to attend. I would perform in one of the practice halls Warabi-za.
It was a good challenge for me because I had to perform solo. It was difficult to find the self-confidence to perform something that I was not very good at. But through my happyokai, I realized that the level of my performance was not important. I could always improve my skills. What the happyokai challenged me to do was to show people that I loved what I was doing.
My first happyokai was a very special experience for me. I had no idea what a happyokai was and what the expectations were. It was the first time that I performed odori, shamisen, and koto.
It was difficult and painful for me to feel satisfied with my level of performance. I had just been studying everything for about 2 months, and I could not expect myself to be at a professional level. But it was frustrating because I had professional experience through taiko, and to perform before I was at that level seemed wrong.
This happyokai forced me to search within myself to find my purpose of performing. I realized that the level of my performance was not what mattered, but the intent of what I was trying to do with this happyokai. I realized that this was my chance to share my love of what I do with people - a person with a good heart, a person who is really trying to learn, a person who loves what they are doing. I wanted to show people how much I love the arts.
It was a good time for me to really search within myself to find the simple answer to why I want to be a performer. By having to become a beginner again, I realized how much further I wanted to go. It was just a first step to broadening myself in my thoughts and skills as a performer.
My second happyokai was incredibly challenging because the level that each of my teachers set was very high. The difference of difficulty from the first happyokai and the second was vast. The pieces that they taught to me were at a professional level. This happyokai challenged my personal confidence. I had a difficult time believing in myself. This was a very painful happyokai experience because I could not do my best.
But it was a good test and checkpoing. I needed to do this in order to realize what it really takes to do all of these things that I am learning. It made me evaluate what my intentions were with all of these things that I was learning - What do I want to do? How far do I want to go? What level do I want to achieve? Some artists spend thier entire life mastering one thing. Why am I learning so many thing? Can I succeed at doing everything? - so many questions.
It was a time to make choies. I realized that earch of my studies had developed a special connection to my life that I could not let end. I had gotten over the beginner challenge, and I was on a path to seeing my skills improve. I set my commitment to do everything. My expectation was to always search to achieve the top level.
It was also a time to realize how much time and commitment my teachers had placed in me. Each of them wanted me to succeed. My responsibility to them was to keep going forward.
This was the challenge of my life. After the previous happyokai, I was determined to make this last one something that I could be proud of. I made this presentation into the culmination of all my experiences that I have had within my performance career. I did everything from designing the program, making posters, doing my own self-promotion, etc. I constructed my personal practice schedule as well as organized the rehearsal schedule for all that was helping. The basic fundamental of the happyokai was to present everything that I had learned within the year. But I took that foundation, and made it into a bigger production. I decided to make this happyokai into a real performance.
My purpose was to show the audience who I was, what I had done in Japan, and the person that I aspired to be. I wanted to share my happiness and my tough times. I told the stories of my experience and memories within each of my studies, and also my life - my thoughts.
It ended up being a one and a half hour concert with no intermission. I did my own speeches, and performed almost everything solo, expect shamisen. Within each of the individual pieces, I can not say that I did my absolute best. But putting everything together, I did the best that I have ever done.
Within my past happyokai(s), I was very nervous and I made many mistakes. I realized within this last performance that I had to maintain my focus and remember what my purpose was. At first I could feel myself getting very nervous because I could feel everybody watching me. It is different performing with other people because I felt like I could hide within the group. The audience could be looking at anybody not just me. But performing solo was different because the focus of the audience was only on that single person. I put so much pressure upon myself before to be "great." But I realized that was not the purpose of my performing. I wanted to show people my heart and love of what I was doing. I had to communicate my love to strangers. As I performed, I realized that the only way I could accomplish my goal was to trust. Within yhis happyokai, I taught myself the true relationship that I wanted to create between myself as a performer and the audience.
My experience at Warabi-za broadened my perspective of my role as a performer. I am determined to continue all of the studies. Although I can not continue the intensive lesson schedule, I am committed to attain higher levels. After this past year, I have only at a beginner level of understanding. I am excited to see how far I can improve.
For the first time in my life I can say that I am proud of myself. I realized the true importance of why I want to perform dance and music - the spirit of my family, my home, and my life can come alive. My experience has taught me to sincerely believe in the things that I am trying to express through the arts. I feel that this was a very rare, special opportunity.
My responsibility now is to share what I learned in America. As a performer, I expect to incorporate all of my studies within my performances. My experience here will not end when I leave Japan. It will always live within my life and work.