Honkyoku

I had another lesson with Michael tonight.  Side note:  being steeped in Japanese martial and Zen traditions, I don't know if I should call Michael by his name.  The dude is a Dai Shihan after all.  It is a strange thing in the West.  I have just as often run into people who avoid title as I have those who would be offended if they are not used.  Sometimes, I have encountered both perspectives from the same person.  Either way, he is my teacher, I am greatly appreciative of the time he takes to guide me.

Back on topic...

I know I have to practice more, but things are going well.  I am starting to use meri notes with both shading and half holing in more and more songs.  I am able to most of the tings he has me try, but I can sense that it would be even more productive if I had a lesson in person.  (someday)

We looked a bit at Etenraku but then began working on a honkyoku piece called Sanson no Yugure (Mt. Village at Dusk).

I echoed hom phrase by phrase.  In each phrase we stopped and discussed some of the unique stylistic elements that are not captured in the score.  It involved trills, vibrato, and other notations.  This is clearly something that would be ridiculous to try to learn properly without one on one guidance.

What is especially interesting are the notations in some of the phrases.  Rather than describing a technical detail, some describe a physical scene, or a moment in time that the phrase is trying to embody.  It is a very different approach to both playing and learning.

Since this was not on my usual lesson night, I have less than 2 weeks before I work with Michael again.

Practice practice.

Nothing Extraordinary

There is something happening in my shakuhachi playing and practice that feels very good lately.  Playing and taking lessons with Chikuzen has, in one way, become very ordinary.  I don't mean that I see nothing special in it, but rather that this instrument and this music is less and less soemthing new and exotic that I am doing.  More and more it is a part of my life and the life of my family.  There is a comfort and familiarity that allows for a natural focus on what I am doing. 

Lessons of late have focussed on stability and range.  Michael has been helping me tweek the position of the shakuhachi on my chin so that I get a fuller tone and so higher notes (and meri's) done get caught on the blowing edge.  I am after drills and warm ups, I am focussing much of my playing on parts 1, 2, and 4 of Etenraku Celebration Melody.

I have also been spending some time on the porch in the early morning with my Shakuhachi Yuu, a tea and the birds.  I sit quietly with birds and my tea for a time,a nd them I play call and answer with the different birds in my neighbourhood.  I try to match them, or play off of them, responding to what they give me.  It is a beautiful practice that has me jumping all over the place on the instrument as new birds come and go.

I highly recommend it.

Haul Blog

I made this one cool find a little while ago and I thought I'd share it.  I like to play while standing a lot of the time, but I didn't like having a music stand out in the living room,  nor was I fond of setting it up each time I wanted to play from a score.

And then...

During a trip to Toledo in March, Julie and I were looking at bamboo trays at Target, when we found this little iron cookbook stand.

It fit nicely up on the fireplace mantle and it look goods empty or with a book / score.  What I like best is that it is out of the way and at the right height.  It was very neat to find it at a place like Target, especially when it was not something I was looking for.

Kan

I had another lesson with Michael Gould this week.  He did not introduce any new material in terms of songs, we just worked on tone.  It proved to be a very important lesson in terms of developing my consistency in kan.

One of the most important things that Michael has been emphasizing is that there are many variables that affect tone and pitch.  Many of these are subtle, if not imperceptible. Mechanics such as the angle of the head, position of the jaw, the position of the flute on the chin, and posture take a long time to become "automatic" in terms of muscle memory.  Ultimately, they are not automatic.  Rather, the musician learns to feel their way around and through these variables.  Beyond the mechanical variables, tone can be affected by temperature, time of day, even what you had for supper.  Although there is a mechanical process to learn, it is not a matter of doing X, Y, and Z each time to make sure you get the sound you want.  You set out, knowing the variables (as best you can) and then you work with whatever the moment gives you.

Aikido is very much the same way.  It is a useful martial art for self defence, but if you practice shihonage and then think "okay, when I get attacked, I will do A and B, then C will happen", well you will disappointed.  When dealing with the subtle, we begin to get a sense of the light dusting of chaos that each moment is covered it.  Much can happen, so knowing with certainty what will happen is not possible.  But I digress.  (I always wanted to say that)

We played with some special notes in the higher register like U no San, and getting Ro kan to sound without the 4th hole.  Things like these gave an opportunity to feel the tones and overtones and work in the upper octave.  It was like Dad taking me for a drive around the neighbourhood before letting me go for a bike ride on my own.  Expand the edges to help make the inner parts more familiar.

Over the next 2 weeks I am going to be working a lot more on Etenraku.  I have not played the 1st shakuhachi part all of the way through sections 1 and 2 yet, but the tsu chu meri in the first section is providing a fun challenge.

The best beginner points that I had reinforced in this lesson are...

1.  Learning to follow the rhythm marks by slapping your knees (when not playing) or tapping your feet (when playing) is invaluable.  If you are a player who works with music with this type of notation, you need to know this.

2.  Practice with a tuner / metronome device is important.  

Although there were no new pieces added this week, I am tweaking my practice routine to focus better on what is in front of me right now.

I'll leave off with a video of my teacher playing my favourite pieces...

Sculpting a Life

One of the things that is truly marvelous about life, is that it is both short and long at the same time.  Moment to moment, we have a seemingly infinite opportunity to do good, grow, stagnate, ignore, love, create, or cry.  The measure of shortness is, as I see it, a reflection our perceptions of the unexplored, under-utilized and missed opportunities that the universe holds.  There is so much to do.

And yet, in a life, there is an equilibrium.  Push in on direction too much and there is strain and tension created.  Add something to the mix and there is a new equilibrium that must be found.

I lived almost four decades of life before I began to play the shakuhachi.  The flute entered my home for find children, careers, pets, and a rich fabric of life.  So where does it fit?

As romantic a notion as it may be to imagine practicing this instrument 1-2 hours or more every day, travelling to train with renowned teachers, it would be foolish in the context of my life.

Certainly, it is an instrument that requires a certain focus and attention to develop proficiency in, and I want to be able to do it justice.

I have never truly studied an instrument under a teacher's guidance.  I love what I do play, but there is a level of growth I would very much like to push beyond with the shakuhachi.

So, where does ti fit?

Like anything in my life, I am continually discovering the response to that.

Response.  Not answer.

Whenever I think I have an answer, it crumbles.  Sculpting this life is far too dynamic for something so concrete as an absolute, all-certain answer.

Lessons, Playing and Songs

Lessons.

I had another lesson with Chikusen last night.  I still take pause after each to wonder why I did not make lessons a priority earlier.  I continue to enjoy the process and I like making connection with other players.  There aren't any other players around where I live.  Or at least, I have not found them yet.

This week we talked abit more about rhythm, but spent most of our time on pitch adjustment.  Skype might not be as good as a live lesson, but it is dang near.  Michael was able to work with me on bell height, placement on chin, posture and emboucher to get my pitch higher.  I was able to reproduce it, but it will take practice until this become the new normal.

That made up most of the time, but we also returned to the point of blowing rather than aiming, and added a couple of new songs.

Playing.

The more I play, the more I play.  When I am playing songs, I spend most of my time playing the ones I am learning in my lessons.  They fill my head.  These songs of a culture and history I can barely taste, given the place and time of my birth.  And yet, they weave their way into my body.

When I improvise, I find that broader and broader possibilities manifest.  My fingers are learning landscape of the instrument.  More and more breath becomes fuel for its creative designs.  slowly the gap between myself and the instrument fades.  Sometimes, it is forgotten entirely.

Songs.

Hinomaru
Ouma no Oyako
Yuyake Koyake
Kutsu ga Naru
Sunayama
Hietsuki Bushi
Azatoya Yunta
Takeda no Komoreuta
Kyorei (first half)
Etenraku (shakuahchi #1, part 1 and 2)
**I am figuring out "Sally Garden", but am stuck at a point where I believe meri notes must be involved.

Mindful of Gain and Loss

Part of why I am enjoying the shakuhachi more and more lately is that I am getting better.  I am getting more consistent in hitting kan and I am more stable in that register than I used to be.  I am also learning new songs.  I like the fact that things are going well.

In terms of gain and loss, this can be difficult to navigate.  Invariably, things will get harder and if viewed as 'loss' it can be very discouraging.  Actually it is not a theoretical idea for me right now, I have run into something that could  be taken as a setback.

This week Michael worked with me on my embouchure.  We spent just about the entire 90 minute lesson on it.  He dropped a lot of information and images on me, and most of the time I tried to implement them, I lost the tone I was used to being able to produce.

He counselled me well on how to work with all of these changes.  They were not to be implemented or practiced all at once, but rather one at a time.  Their practice was separate from the skills involved in learning to play songs.  However, as I experiment with these aspects of the embouchure, it should inform and influence my current one.

Still, days followed where these concepts crept in (without being mastered), and caused me to lose tone on songs I can normally play.  This could be seen as a setback.  I like playing songs, and I like to be able to reproduce things I can do.  It feels good.  It would be far to easy to get frustrated and make an error.

Getting discouraged and not playing would be an error.

Ignoring what I have been taught and continuing on, clinging to what I already have would be an error.

It is a moment to practice trust.

Trust in myself.  

Trust in my teacher.

Trust in the process.

I have seen this type of trust function in the dojo and the zendo.  This trust does not produce rigid and blind obedience to a person or system.  This trust steals the reigns from the ego and guides the student to place that is free and dynamic.  A place that they ultimately take themselves.