Drumming on Water

Electronic Music from Japan

2008-10-15T17:28:00.000-07:00

Monday, Oct. 20, 2008
4PM
Berklee College of Music
921 Boylston St.
Boston, MA 02215
David Friend Recital Hall

On this upcoming Monday, three of the Japanese artists that I've had the honor to meet and interview during my travels to Japan will be coming to Berklee. I will be hosting them in a clinic setting in the David Friend Recital Hall. The Berklee internal "press" release follows...

From the fall of 2005 through the summer of 2007, percussion department Professor Steve Wilkes traveled to Japan, researching the Japanese underground electronic music scene. Berklee is now proud to bring to the college three of the preeminent artists that Steve met and interviewed during his travels: Keiichi Sugimoto (aka Fourcolor and Filfla), Sawako Kato (aka Sawako), and Sanae Yamasaki (aka Moskitoo). Hosted by Steve, these three laptop artists – who work in styles ranging from “microsound” to ambient to electronica - will be performing in an intimate clinic setting in the David Friend Recital Hall.

Keiichi Sugimoto founded the Cubic Music label in 1999 with Tetsuro Yasunaga and Namiko Sasamoto. Within the electronic music scene, Cubic Music became widely respected as a Tokyo-based label with a unique approach to sound production, as well as graphic design. FourColor is one of many musical projects led by Keiichi Sugimoto. In addition, he is a member of the electro-acoustic-music quartet Minamo (12K/apestaartje/Cubic Music). His latest project is as leader of the electro-pop music group called FilFla, whose recent CD release, “Frolicfon,” can be found on the eclectic Japanese label, Headz.

Sawako Kato is a sound sculptor, a timeline-based artist, and a signal alchemist of the urban environment. Sawako was born in Nagoya, Japan and she is a musician who understands the value of dynamics and the power of silence. As a child, she studied classical piano for more than 10 years and Japanese Nohgaku Theatre for 6 years. Once musical ideas are processed via Sawako’s unique approach, subtle fragments from everyday life float vividly in space with a digital, yet organic texture. She is interested in the soundscape and the mediascape of our digital era, and her goal is to create a bridge between public and private, virtual and actual space.

Sawako has released albums on respected electronic labels such as 12K (USA), and/OAR(USA), Anticipate (USA), and Schole (Japan). She has collaborated with Taylor Deupree, asuna, HYPO, Ryan Francesconi, Toshimaru Nakamura, Taku Sugimoto, Andrew Deutsch, Jacob Kirkegaard, Kenneth Kirschner, Daisuke Miyatani, Radiosonde, among others. Her unique sonic world has been called the "post romantic sound" by Boston's Weekly Dig.

Sanae Yamasaki, aka Moskitoo (b. 1978), is a sound-artist and graphic designer residing in Tokyo, Japan. She began writing music in 1997, while playing guitar and keyboards in various bands in Sapporo. In 2005 she began her career as a solo artist, composing, playing, and singing under the moniker Moskitoo. Her first full-length release, “Drape,” is on the influential, NYC-based electronic music label, 12K.

Filfla

2008-03-05T14:00:00.000-08:00

I just received a package from Headz, a wonderful Japanese electronic label that has been mentioned previously in this blog. The package contained the new Filfla (AKA, Keiichi Sugimoto) CD, "Frolicfon." Keiichi, of course, has been one of my primary friends and facilitators during my recent trips to Japan. And, he's also a member of the Backyard Project. The new CD also features Tetsuro Yasunaga, Namiko Sasamoto, and Yuichiro Iwashita (from Minamo), as well as Moskitoo (12k label artist who was featured in posts from last August).

A full review of the CD will follow here, soon.

Japan Berklee Alumni Reception

2007-08-28T19:25:00.000-07:00

Last night, Vanilla Mood - a cozy restaurant and nightclub in Roppongi owned by Berklee alumnus Norihiko Hibino - was the site of the 2008 Japan Berklee Alumni Reception. Ginny and I co-hosted the event and I believe I can safely say that everyone had a blast. All of Ginny's advance work paid off.

This year's event was a bit smaller than last year's lavish production at the Shinjuku Keio Plaza hotel. However, along with the smaller scale came a warm, intimate atmosphere and plenty of time to hang out and meet with everyone. In fact, the event was scheduled for 6pm - 9pm (in typical Japanese fashion, guests began arriving right at 6:00), but Ginny and I did not leave Vanilla Mood until almost 10:30! If we had stayed longer, I truly believe that some of the guests would stayed until midnight or beyond.

There were several highlights:
1. Famous J-dorama actress Ayako Sawada (seen in the top photo with Gin) attended the event and was a hit with everyone. People were so surprised to have such a famous TV celebrity in their midst. Ayako-san could not possibly have been more charming or gracious, talking at great length with everyone. Arigatoo Gozaimashta, Ayako!

2. Tako Muraise, from Koyo Conservatory, and Kazu Hashimoto, from the PAN school (seen in the second photo) were in attendance and stayed almost as long as Ginny and myself. My former student, Takeshi Ichikawa ('94), is the fourth member of the photo.

3. My good friend from the Japan Foundation, Miki Hotta, made a surprise visit. She later confessed to Ginny and I that she was only planning to stay for a few minutes but that the food and music were so good, she could not help but stay for the duration.

4. Jam Session! This was Norihiko's idea and it was a great call on his part. Various alumni, from Mike Price ('69), to Kiyotaka Takiyama ('89), to Norihiko himself ('97), to Taichi Minagawa ('06), took the stage, and played for well over an hour.

The success of this event is well worth Berklee's consideration. The atmosphere was truly that of a party, sans many of the traditional formalities. Two factors - the setting (a club ambience) and the opportunity for the guests to play music together - went a long way toward creating a nice intimacy and a high level of comfort among the attendees.

Ginny and I hope that we have the opportunity to do this again, next year...

Tetsuro, Minamo, and Birds of a Feather

2007-08-27T23:08:00.000-07:00

Tetsuro Yasunaga is one of the four Japanese electronica artists who are part of the Backyard Project, a proposed US/Japan collaboration wherein the musicians will swap audio files/field recordings of everyday sounds (i.e., from one's backyard), and, using these sounds as the basis, create new compositions. For those folks who have been checking out this blog since the fall of 2005, you will remember that Keiichi Sugimoto, Toshimaru Nakamura and Sawako Kato are the other three artists from Japan. Along with a Berklee student, or two, I will represent the US part of the project. Ginny and I met Tetsuro at Shinagawa Station (seen in the background of the second photo) for lunch and a discussion about the project.

The big news regarding Tetsuro (and his partner in the band Minamo, Keiichi) is the release of their new CD, "Birds of a Feather." Last year at Berklee, I gave a presentation regarding the work and research behind the Backyard Project. The music of Minamo truly captured the imagination of many of the Berklee community members in the audience. This new CD is simply the best thing they have released thus far. It is a collaboration with the Swedish group, Tape. Tape are certainly brethren of Minamo in their usage of acoustic instruments with laptops. The combined work of these two groups on "Birds of a Feather" is breathtaking. Foregoing many of the electronics they have used in the past and instead focusing on primarily acoustic instruments, the music is a tapestry of delightful sounds and great compositions (this is particularly inspiring considering that much of the music seems to have been improvised).

While here in Tokyo last year, both Tetsuro and Keiichi told me of the recordings for this new CD. In fact, Keiichi told me that, at the time, he had a hard drive with over 40 gigabytes of audio information from which they were going to edit the material for the CD. Their work has certainly paid off and I encourage any of the Berklee community who expressed interest in Minamo to seek out the CD, which is being distributed on the Headz label (a fine Japanese electronic music label).

Tetsuro is also working on a CD for David Sylvian's Samadhi Sound label. This project is called Voima and Tetsuro says that about seven tracks have been written thus far. However, he mentioned that Sylvian is something of a perfectionist and therefore, not surprisingly, is making them work quite hard at "perfecting" the CD! Tetsuro's musical pursuits are always quite interesting to me, so I'm hoping that this CD will eventually reach fruition.

Currently, the Backyard Project artists are working toward a "Collaboration Week" at Berklee next year - perhaps next summer. As news of this develops, it will be reported here...

Headz:
http://www.faderbyheadz.com/

Minamo:
http://www.cubicmusic.com/english/artist/minamo.html

Tape:
http://www.tape.se/

Nagoya Photos

2007-08-26T19:49:00.000-07:00

We're back in Tokyo. It's good to be (in our second) home! And I, for one, am completely knackered.

The group of students at the Nagoya clinics were great - maybe a little looser than their Kobe counterparts. There were some hilarious moments during the closing jam session, including a couple of very funny vocal performances by some students who were not, in fact, vocalists.

Ginny and I have a lot planned over the next few days here in Tokyo. Just wish that we had another week, or two, to enjoy this city. Having said that, this has been the hottest month that I have experienced in my adult life. Growing up (sans air conditioning) in the Washington D. C. area, I have many memories of hot summers. But, man! - this one takes the cake! I've even cut back a bit on my morning runs due to the fact that making it through an entire day in this heat is so taxing.

Mark White, Berklee guitar faculty, put it best: one evening in Kobe, we told him that we were going out for a walk and asked him if he wanted to join us; he replied, "No thanks - I've had enough steam for today!"

Kobe Photos

2007-08-24T18:11:00.001-07:00

Ginny and I are in Nagoya, today. We finish up the last phase of the Berklee clinics, then hop on a bullet train (Shinkansen) to Tokyo. The photos posted here are from the Kobe portion of the clinics tour. Ginny took these photos at the closing jam session on Tuesday.

In the middle photo, Gin captured one of my moments of "inspiration." Near the end of the jam, I thought it might be nice if every drummer grabbed a stick and, collectively, played a swing groove on a cymbal. I know this might sound strange coming from the person who leads a group called Six Drumsets, but NEVER DO THIS WITHOUT HEARING PROTECTION! I made the mistake of doing this without my earplugs. Don't try this at home!

More to come...

Professor Tomiko Kojima

2007-08-22T18:58:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, Ginny and I attended a concert at the famous Meiji Jingu (shrine) in the Harajuku district of Tokyo. We were there at the invitation of Tomiko Kojima, Professor Emeritus of the National Museum of Japanese History.

Our meeting with Professor Kojima had been arranged by my friends Shizuo Harada and Kazuko Nakao. Kazuko had learned of my electronic music project in Japan and, as Professor Kojima is her aunt, suggested that we meet. Prof. Kojima's area of expertise is traditional folk music of Japan and, wow, does she know her stuff!

With the assistance of Harada-san's translation and drawings, she gave Ginny and I a virtual lecture on the history of Gagaku (Japanese Imperial Court music), which provided a nice preview to the concert we were about to attend. I have always enjoyed the musical fabric - or texture - of Gagaku. It was through this music that I was introduced to the Sho, a Japanese wind instrument that features 17 pipes, like a pipe organ. However, Professor Kojima took us deep - through Gagaku's origins (this music came to Japan from China and Korea about 1400 years ago), to its near extinction in the 8th century, to its contemporary status as a respected Japanese musical tradition.

The highlight of our meeting came when I asked Professor Kojima to listen to a bit of the electronic music I've been researching. I pulled out the headphones and iPod and decided to scroll to a track from Opitope's new CD, "Hau," which has been a favorite of mine on this current trip to Japan. She happily obliged.

Her response was a bit surprising. She said that it reminded her of "Healing" music. ("Healing" music is a very popular musical style here in Japan. It is really an umbella term that covers some modern acoustic folk styles, some world music styles, and even a few holdouts from the New Age era.)

Later, Ginny and I discussed this response. To be fair, Professor Kojima was listening in less than ideal conditions (she heard a 2 minute track while sitting inside a noisy cafeteria). Nonetheless, her response was valuable: she reminded me that it is going to be very important to educate listeners about Japanese electronica - particularly as the Backyard Project moves forward. Prof. Kojima gave Ginny and I some great musical insights into Gagaku. And, this truly enhanced our enjoyment of the concert that followed. Considering that Berklee is hoping to host a collaboration week for the Backyard Project artists next year, it will be important to provide musical context and background for our audience. For this reminder alone, I would like to say, "Arigatoo gozaimashita, Professor Kojima!"

This week, Ginny and I are part of the Berklee Clinics team in Kobe. We are heading northeast to Nagoya later this afternoon. In the next post, I will include some photos from this week's clinics...

Moskitoo

2007-08-16T21:22:00.001-07:00

During my first week here in Japan, my friend Keiichi Sugimoto (from Fonica, Minamo, Fourcolor, et al), introduced me to Moskitoo, a new artist on the 12K label. We spent a very hot Sunday afternoon in the comfortable confines of a coffee house in Shimokitazawa, a beautiful neighborhood in the western part of Tokyo that has become home to many artists and musicians. At that time, Moskitoo provided me with a copy of her debut 12K CD, "Drape."

I spent the next couple of evenings listening to this wonderful, quirky album. In the US, we have a certain preconception of the term, "Singer/Songwriter." More often than not, we think of a solo artist (usually American), who composes, sings, and plays acoustic guitar. If we could stretch our imagination a bit (as well as our definition of the term) to include "Japanese vocalist and electronic artist who composes, sings, and processes/manipulates sounds," we might have a grasp of the music by this very special artist named Moskitoo. After coming under the spell of her CD, I requested an interview and, as a result, she, Keiichi, and myself spent Tuesday afternoon at Shibuya's Midwest Cafe, talking about her musical pursuits.

Moskitoo (whose real name is Sanae Yamasaki) is originally from Sapporo and now lives in Tokyo. She was "discovered" two years ago when Keiichi and 12K label founder Taylor Deupree were on tour in Sapporo. They shared a bill with Moskitoo and were immediately impressed by her one-of-a-kind music. She uses a wide range of acoustic instruments to create her music (pianica, xylophone, toy piano, guitar, chimes, etc.), often sampling these instruments into an Akai MPC - 1000. She then records her "performance" of the sounds (via the MPC's touch pads) into her computer and the audio program, Logic. In fact, she told me that "Drape" was recorded almost entirely with Logic. (As a side note, she mentioned that she's just starting to use Ableton Live as a sampling and recording tool.)

When I asked her about musical influences, she came up with a very interesting array of artists who have inspired her. These include iconic pop/electronic artists like Robert Wyatt and Brian Eno (whose "Another Green World" is most definitely an influence on "Drape), to French artist Brigitte Fontane (who recorded some landmark "art pop" albums with the then unknown Art Ensemble of Chicago in the early 1970's), to the Japanese singer Haco (virtually a Kate Bush-like figure on the Japanese pop scene). Moskitoo has processed her influences well - she shares their singular manner of producing music without sounding like any of them. Her album is something of a stretch for the 12K label, but it is a stretch that works admirably.

Another interesting facet of her CD is the predominance of time signatures based on "3" (3/4, 6/8, 12/8, etc.). This is most assuredly not a "4 on the floor" dance record, and - as I am a drummer - I was seduced by all of the interesting rhythmic pulses she built around "3." It turns out this is no coincidence: it's her favorite number!

At the end of the interview, I asked Moskitoo if she had anything else she wanted to share with the readers of this blog. It turns out that she had a very simple message: "Please listen to my music!"

With that thought, I will now try to help. Check out these websites:

http://www.12k.com/index2.html
(Click on the CD cover for "Drape" and you'll be able to listen to an MP3 of the song, "Skie")

http://moskitoo.moo.jp/

http://www.myspace.com/moskitoo
(You can hear some of her music at this site, as well)

PS: She also does some lovely work in graphic design. She gave me her original post card (see in the third photo) as a gift!

Ginny-san Returns, Tokyo Rocks and Rolls, Dragon Ballz

2007-08-15T19:05:00.000-07:00

For the third year in a row, Ginny-san has returned to Tokyo. As if acknowledging the magnitude of her presence, Tokyo shook us with an earthquake at 4:15am. According to the Japan Times, this quake was " centered 30 kilometers below sea level in the waters east of Chiba." It measured 5.3 on the "seismic intensity scale."

All is well. Apparently, there was only one minor injury reported from this quake. However, we did awaken to the feeling of the apartment "rolling" at 4:15. It was definitely the strongest earthquake I have experienced here in Tokyo.

In other meteorological news, this summer has seemingly been the hottest in a while in Japan. Last summer now appears quite mild in comparison. The daily temperature readings have averaged around 33-35 celsius. Today's forecast is for 36 celsius (approx. 97 Fahrenheit). Ginny will now engage in that daily Tokyo activity of "heat management" (i.e., take the subway and walk into air conditioned stores as often as possible).

Errata: The last photo for this posting is from my current favorite Japanese TV show, "Dragon Ballz." Just thought the readers back home would wanna know...

Toshi, George, Brad, and Matt

2007-08-13T02:37:00.001-07:00

Toshimaru Nakamura, George Clooney, Brad Pitt, and Matt Damon were all on view in Shibuya on Sunday afternoon. I can say without reservation that Toshi out performed them all.

Toshi (aka No-input Mixer) was performing at one my favorite venues, the Uplink Gallery. In fact, this is the third performance I've seen at the Uplink after viewing Keiichi Sugimoto (aka Fourcolor) there in 2005 and Miroque there last year. The show that I saw on Sunday afternoon was by far the most unique of the three.

Performing with a dancer and video artist, Toshi made his no-input mixer "whiz," "whir, " "beep," "pulse," and often distort into noise. He was the official soundtrack provider to the abstract dancing and remarkable video effects that were occurring around him. Appearing to be the "calm in the middle of the storm," he patiently worked at his mixer and (for me, at least) dazzled with his sounds.

The 55 minute piece was stark. The dancer initially appeared on stage next to her "twin" - a video image of her that acted through the identical gestures, movements and timing. This was startling - I don't know that I've ever seen an opening to a show quite like it. Once the piece settled in, I noticed for the first time that the dancer was outfitted in a hospital gown. My impression was that the show was about the debilitating effects of, and ensuing difficult recovery from, a health crisis. I know that doesn't sound like the material from which a great music, dance, and video performance occur, but I found the entire presentation to be very strong.

After the show, Toshi seemed a bit surprised when I told him that I thought it was a fine performance. After thousands of gigs, I know personally that it is sometimes hard to know if a performance communicated. But, this one certainly did with me.

George, Brad, and Matt shoulda been there to see it!

PS: After the show, I asked Toshi if I could go to the stage and take a couple of photos of the no-input mixing board. Happily, he obliged...

Opitope@Lush

2007-08-12T19:52:00.000-07:00

Opitope performed on Saturday night at Lush, a tiny basement (i.e., underground) club in Shibuya. Opitope are the electronica duo of Chihei Hatakeyama (guitar, laptop and effects) and Tomoyoshi Date (laptop and effects). Readers of this blog might recall that I interviewed Hatakeyama-san, here in Tokyo, last year (see Archives, July 2006).

Opitope have released one of the finest CD's I've heard thus far this year. It's called "Hau" and it is on the Japanese label, Spekk. Spekk is a great label for electronic and indie music releases and I would urge all readers to check out their website (www.spekk.net). MP3's of the CD can be heard at the site.

As I entered the club, I passed through the Lush doma - a smallish, foyer area - where three people were seated behind a merchandise table. It was quiet. I said, "Konban wa" ("good evening"), checked out some of the merchandise, and then, via a thick soundproof door, entered into the main club. It was packed! I could barely squeeze into the space! As the act before Opitope finished their set, I slowly moved near the front of the stage, found a square foot, or two, where I could sit on the floor and couldn't help but notice that I was probably the only foreigner in the club that night. Cest la vie - this is actually one of the things I love most about exploring this underground scene in Tokyo: it takes me out of my comfort zone.

Opitope quickly set up and began their performance. The first sounds I heard were those of birds! A Japanese robin? This was followed by more field recordings and the set evolved as one long, 35 minute improv. The field recordings and processed sounds were sometimes punctuated by beautiful chord swells from Hatakeyama's guitar. It was intoxicating stuff.

The young man directly in front of me smoked thoughtfully, occasionally cupping his chin in his left hand, while his index and middle fingers clasped the burning cigarette. There is nothing more evocative, moody (and cooly photogenic) than "someone smoking thoughtfully." But, in this case, the vents in the club were blowing his second hand smoke directly into my face. After 5 minutes of this, I found giving the good old US of A "big ups" for its progressive anti-smoking laws! That's one thing I miss when I am here in Japan.

I enjoyed Opitope's performance a great deal. My only wish was that they had referenced some of the amazing material on their new CD. Songs like "A White Cloth Falling from the Snow Branches," and "A Far Room" are truly magical. The Saturday night show appeared to be largely improvised and, as a fan of the CD, I naturally wanted to hear some of that particular music.

You readers are urged to find this CD and get it into your iPods soon!

Optope
"Hau"
Spekk records
KK.011

I'm hoping that I get the chance to meet with Hatakeyama-san, again, before I return to the US...

Skinny Guys from America and Japan

2007-08-09T17:15:00.000-07:00

Two skinny guys from America and Japan met in the Shimbashi neighborhood of Tokyo, last night. Together, they went to a nearby restaurant and tried to solve their calorie deficient dilemma with boiled edamame, cold cucumber salad, yasai (vegetable) tempura and nama (draft beer). It seems they did not succeed in their efforts to become more bulky, but they certainly had fun trying.

It was Toshimaru Nakamura (aka No-input Mixer) that I met in Shimbashi last evening, and it was delightful to resume my ongoing conversation with him on the subjects of music, art, food, and the cultures of Japan and America. Past readers of this blog will remember that Toshi is something of an electronic music sensation due to his proficiency with the no-input mixer. In short, he connects the outputs of his mixer back into the inputs and then manipulates the ensuing feedback. He has released a multitude of CD's, both as a solo artist and in collaboration with others, that feature his musical exploits with the no-input mixer.

This blog has previoiusly gone into detail regarding his methods and his career (see the archives for August 2006 and October 2005). Therefore, in this post I will simply post some highlights from last night's conversation...

"I like having limits," said Toshi, when discussing a recent CD of his, "Side Guitar." Before adopting the no-input mixer, Toshi had originally played guitar. After a seven year hiatus from that instrument, he decided to return to the guitar and try to apply the approach he had learned from the no-input mixer. Creating a feedback loop from a headphone output to the guitar pick-ups and then into the mixer, Toshi created an entire CD of music on his "floor-top guitar." (He explained that he originally tried this set-up on the table top, but it was only when he moved everything to the floor that he began getting results that he liked.) This CD is three long tracks of feedback, with each track possessing its own unique musical personality. I told Toshi about some of the other electronic artists I am meeting here in Japan. Often, they would see such tracks as those found on "Side Guitar," as merely the beginning of musical pieces that would then develop further (via audio processing in various laptop computer programs, for example). This was where Toshi made his point about limits: he enjoyes giving himself one chance to get it right and then moving on. "After all, everything really is a work in progress, anyway," he said, pointing out that even after a performance, a musician might think about a particular piece of music for days afterward - the processing, in this case, being of the mental variety as opposed to that done in the computer. This is a great insight: if all music is truly a "work-in-progress," then it is the artist who must make the very personal choice of where, exactly, the limits are for his/her artistic approach. With an attitude such as his, Toshi might have the most truly Zen approach of the electronic musicians I have met here in Japan.

With this in mind, we unexpectedly made a connection between this idea of "limits" and my vegetarian diet. In Japan, I am frequently asked about this diet. Although Japan is a very easy place to maintain a vegetarian diet (this, due to the huge variety of both the food and the various ways in which it is prepared), you do not generally find many Japanese who are truly vegetarian - hence, the curiosity. Over the many years I have been a vegetarian, I have found that my reasons for maintaining the diet have evolved. Originally, I became a vegetarian because of an experience I had of the outdoors and wildlife in Yellowstone National Park. However, over time, I started to see that the principal value of the vegetarian diet came down to one simple point: the diet made me consider everything that I ate - that is to say, everything that I chose to put into my body. Upon, such consideration, I would not go to eat at, say, the major fast food chains in the US, not so much because of meat or fish products, but instead because I simply felt that they offered neither safe nor healthy food. Thus, the vegetarian diet was a filter, a "limit" that helped me to make careful and, hopefully, wise choices about food.

Such connections and insights always seem to come to the fore when I am hanging out and talking with Toshi. It's easy to see that he is an inspiration to me. Now, if we could only put on some muscle...

Lost in Translation

2007-08-07T02:28:00.001-07:00

I've had remarkable good fortune getting around Tokyo on my own for the last two years. This good fortune has been a by-product of two factors: the first is the investment I made in taking Japanese classes at the Boston Language Institute (although far from fluent, I can't even begin to count the times that those classes have paid off); the second factor is that Japan is such an exceedingly logical country. There is a simple logic behind every road, every subway stop, every train line.

However, yesterday, I became "lost" to such a degree, that I was 90 minutes late for an appointment. It went like this...

Via subway, I was on my way to Hiro's Wild Music School for the first time this year. I was relying on my memory for the correct subway connections and stations. I got off at the station at which I have always disembarked. However, without thinking, I left through an exit I had never before used. (There are sometimes dozens of exits from subway and train stations in Japan.) I went up the stairs, to the outside, and found that I was on a street I did not recognize. Walking around the block, I could not figure out how I had wound up at this particular spot. (For the record, I was across the street from the Tokyo Dome). And, here's where I made my first mistake: I decided that there must have been a connection to another subway line that I had forgotten in the last year. It was a huge mistake, for I was, in fact, only a few blocks away from Hiro's school. I went back into the station, hopped on another subway and ended up a considerable distance from my destination. Without a cell phone, I walked over to a phone booth and called my friend Kazu (also a friend a Hiro's). He informed me that I was way off course (headed off the side of the world, probably...) . Then, it was onto another subway to return me to the Tokyo Dome. This was followed by an hour of wandering the streets in the relentless Tokyo heat, until I realized that I was, indeed, just down the road a bit from the school. I arrived there a sweaty mess. But, Hiro - bless him - had put up a sign in the front hall that read, "WELCOME HOME Steve Wilkes." Nothing else could have made me laugh the way I did in that moment!

For future travelers to Japan, I have found that always imbedded in the logical ways of this country is the answer to your ordeal or problem. And, that answer is usually right beneath your nose or on the (exit) sign right in front of you. If I had only remembered that from the start yesterday, I would not have been the "lost" gai-jin, wandering the streets of Tokyo.

O Edo Sukeroku Taiko

2007-08-04T18:06:00.000-07:00

Attended a fantastic O Bon ceremony last night at Honganji Temple. This festival featured the Bon Odori dances. What follows is a description of O Bon and the Bon Odori dances from About.com:

"The 13th through 16th of August is called obon in Japan. Obon is a Buddhist event and is one of the most important traditions for Japanese people. It is the period of praying for the repose of the souls of one's ancestors. People believe that their ancestors' spirits come back to their homes to be reunited with their family during obon.

During obon, bon odori dances (folk dances) are held all over Japan. The kind of dance varies from area to area. People wearing yukata (summer kimono) go to the neighborhood bon odori and dance around a yagura stage. Anyone can participate in bon odori. Join the circle and imitate what others are doing. Usually, taiko drums are played with the music."

The highlight of the evening was a Taiko troupe performance by O Edo Sukeroku Taiko. O Edo are led by my former taiko instructor, Seido Kobayashi (seen in the second photo). Last night was the best performance I've ever seen by the group: absolutely exhilarating. After the performance, Shizuo Harada and I went over to Kobayashi-san to say "hello." I had not seen him for almost 13 years! He was so surprised and so happy. He is heading to Seattle, now, for a one week conference on taiko drumming. However, when he returns, I am going to visit him at his studio. Can't wait!

McPork and Me

2007-08-02T21:08:00.000-07:00

Full disclosure: this post is being written by a vegetarian.

I wasn't the only new thing hitting the streets in Tokyo at the end of July. In the Japanese market, McDonald's has unveiled McPork! There's even a listing in Wikipedia already!

"McPork is a McDonald's sandwich, sold in the Japanese market since July 2007, taking the place of McChicken. The sandwich is seasoned with a pepper and garlic sauce. [1]"

For the past two years, I've used this blog to document my experiences in Japan. As I have so many friends back in the US who are, shall we say, barbecue affionados, I simply could not keep the above news to myself...

My first week back here has seen warm and tropical weather. There is a Typhoon southwest of Tokyo, in Kyushuu. It has been bringing very humid, tropical winds to Tokyo. I don't mind - it feels like summer.

I'll be posting more in the next couple of weeks, as I will be attending performances by some of my favorite Japanese electronic musicians and traditional musicians. It's O Bon season here, so there will be many traditional folk music performances as people reunite with family members, etc. More to come...

Sawako

2006-09-18T08:29:00.000-07:00

Last winter, I was rummaging through the bins in the Boston area's best underground music shop, Twisted Village. I found a CD with a great cover - a photo of a gray, rainy streetscape that I instantly recognized as “somewhere in Japan. “ The title of the CD was HUM, by an artist named Sawako. As it was released on the 12k label, I thought that it was a safe bet to give the CD a try. Upon first listen, I detected a new, unique voice in electronic music and the album became an immediate favorite. Impressionistic in its approach, the songs on HUM captured strong feelings - impressions - of, say, the "Way Home From School," or a "White Sky Winter Chicada."

Sawako, it turns out, is Sawako Kato, an electronic music and visual artist transplanted to New York from Nagoya and later, Tokyo (where, as she says, “I grew up as an artist.”). We spent Saturday afternoon in Cha-an, a fabulous teahouse in New York's Greenwich Village, discussing her music and current projects.

Sawako originally studied video art at Keio University SFC. While studying in the school's interdisciplinary program, she met musician and FFTease developer Chris Penrose. Inspired by this opportunity, she feels that she made a "natural progression into audio editing" from visual editing. (Today, she says that she enjoys her musical and visual pursuits equally, as both are "time-line based art forms.") After Keio University, she came to New York and entered the Masters degree program at NYU in order to explore, “something I never experienced before, with the other students and teachers who have totally different knowledge, culture, and experiences.”

She and Taylor Deupree, the founder of the 12k label, encountered each other on her first trip to NYC. A mutual friend, 12k artist Kenneth Kirschner, recommended that Taylor listen to Sawako’s first CD, “Yours Gray.” Taylor liked the CD and, three years after their first meeting, he released the aforementioned HUM on 12k.

Sawako is currently quite excited (no cliche, here – she’s exuberant when discussing these projects) about several collaborations with which she is currently involved. One of these projects is with the Touch label sound artist Jacob Kirkegaard. She and Jacob are collaborating on sound files of his cello performances! Another project in the pipeline is with RF - the artist moniker for Ryan Francesconi - a west coast based musician and programmer. Finally, she's been providing vocals for the Japanese duo of Radiozonde - a wonderful guitar/electronic music duo who, earlier this year, were documented in this blog. (See the post entitled, Installing, from Saturday, July 29, 2006: Radiozonde were the opening act for Installing at the Marbletron venue in Tokyo.)

Like several of my previous interviews, we spent some time discussing Japanese traditional culture and music. As has been the case before, this western observer senses a connection to those traditional arts in the spaces and silences found in Sawako's music. It turns out that Sawako studied Nohgaku when she was a child, and her parents practice Nohgaku to this day. (Nohgaku - or noh play - is the combination of the Noh and Kyogen theatrical arts.) She also professed a fondness for the sho - a fondness which I share - the traditional mouth organ instrument. We both agreed that its sound has an uncanny electronic quality for such an intrinsically acoustic instrument. She also finds the sho to be "very humanistic."

Near the end of the interview, I presented Sawako with an official invitation to join The Backyard Project. To my delight, she accepted. We now have four artists on board and I'm starting to feel quite hopeful regarding the possibility of this project getting off the ground in 2007.

Sawako CD list:

"Yours Gray" Label: and/OAR www.and-oar.org
HUM Label: 12k www.12k.com
“Omnibus" (mini album) Label: Community Library www.community-library.net

Hiro

2006-09-06T09:40:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I was channel surfing on my Tokyo TV. I came across a program that appeared to be a game show of some sort. Its distinguishing characteristic was that it featured a "battle of the drums," or a battle between two drummers to be more precise. The drummers were amateurs. From what I could gather, they had each been prepared by a professional drummer for this battle. As if this was not enough to keep me glued to the show, my friend, Hiro Tsunoda, was one of the "judges" for the battle. Dressed in an immaculate tuxedo, Hiro exuded calm, confidence, and charisma.

The two amateur drummers had to play together to the track, Take the A Train. Each one of them took a one chorus solo over the track, and then had an open solo, sans music. They were pretty bad. (Sorry - but it's true.) However, one of them - a huge man who looked as though he could be a sumo wrestler - had been solidly coached on one musical fundamental: timekeeping. Of the two drummers, he was the only one that seemed to prioritize the "time," and - indeed - he won the battle according to the judges. (Much to the chagrin of his female counterpart on the other drumset.) The "battle" was completely entertaining, however. Especially when the large man's headphones fell off the top of his head and blinded him by landing around his eyes! This, during his open drum solo!

In all my years of playing music, I've only met one star: Hiro. I've met and worked with some extremely talented people. But, perhaps Hiro is the only one who seems to have been born with a star quality. Maybe he's the only person I've met who is a human lightbulb: simply by walking into a room, he lights it up! He also has the track record, the pedigree, of a star: hit records in Japan, a long career as a TV personality, and respect throughout the Japanese music industry as a great drummer. What hits you so hard about Hiro, however, is that you sense this star quality without even knowing of his accomplishments. He's a natural. Just writing down this description makes me miss him and his smile.

As I have previously written in this blog, Hiro is now running a music school in Tokyo called WMS (Wild Music School). Along with my friend from Pearl Drums, Kazu Yoshizawa, Hiro set me up with a practice room at WMS this summer. Thus, once a week, I would trek to Kasuga station, and walk up the street to WMS to practice and soak up the warm atmosphere at the school. Hiro's family and his staff are always smiling and hospitable to any musican (esp. any drummer!) who walks in the door.

As I was leaving one afternoon, Hiro sent a staff member to catch me and invite me up to his "hang out room." This room is a great open space on the 5th floor of WMS. It features a fantastic stereo, complete with an old Denon professional turntable - the kind you would have seen in a recording studio, say, 40 years ago. Hiro has an unbelieveable vinyl collection (5000 albums, I believe he told me). He pulled out a vinyl compilation called "Sen Ichi," or "1,001." This is a collection of original recordings of fake book songs. It is an amazing and diverse group of songs from the American Songbook. Hiro asked if I wanted to hear anything. I browsed through "1,001" and this caught my eye:
"Sentimental Journey" by Doris Day, with the Les Brown Orchestra.

Hiro placed it on the turntable and it began playing. My guess is that the recording was from the late 1940's and Doris Day's voice is so supple! (Many Americans simply remember her as the Rock Hudson or James Garner romantic interest in comedies from the 1960's, but believe me - in her singing heyday, she could almost pass for a young Ella Fitzgerald.) I'm going to remember for a long time, sitting there drinking coffee with Hiro, looking out at the hot and hazy Tokyo summer afternoon, listening to this beautiful, nostalgic sound from long ago.

The music finished playing and Hiro mentioned that back then - the 40's and 50's - every musician was great. Such an interesting point: performing and writing/arranging were really the only music careers. Thus, everyone who started down the musical path had to be really good at one, or the other, in order to get a gig in one of the outstanding performing groups of that age. Also, jazz - bebop - was on the ascent and many landmark musicians were setting the standard. Hiro's point hit home: there's a lot more room for mediocrity in the music business today than there was 50 years ago. To survive then, you HAD to be great.

For me, that afternoon had the quality of resting at an oasis, and taking relief from relentless summer heat. If you're a drummer and in Tokyo, there's no better oasis than WMS. Thanks, Hiro!

Going the Extra Mile

2006-09-04T10:31:00.000-07:00

Last Monday, I walked out of my apartment and checked the mailbox. In the box, there was a notice that an attempt to deliver a package had occurred the day before. (I could tell this much because the time of the delivery had been clearly designated at the top of the notice.) However, most of the notice was in Kanji - the alphabet with which I am least familiar - so I was unable to decipher most of the details. At the time I picked up the notice, I was late for an appointment, so I continued on, leaving my translation attempt for later.

Fifteen minutes later, I met Tetsuro Yasunaga and his girlfriend, Junko, in my Shinagawa neighborhood for lunch. This provided the occasion for detailing the "Backyard Project" to Tetsuro and - to my considerable happiness - he accepted the invitation and is now the third artist onboard for this endeavor! I just hope I am not making Tetsuro too busy, as this now becomes another of his many projects (these projects were covered in an earlier post.)

After lunch, I showed Tetsuro and Junko the notice that I had received in my mailbox. Tetsuro read it and informed me that the package was being held for me at the Takanawa Post Office, which was just down the street, a bit, from the site of our lunch. He and Junko offered to walk with me there. I knew that this was a busy day for each of them and told them that this gesture was unnecessary. However, they insisted, and we began walking. It turned out that the Post Office was a mile away! I probably would have never found it without their help. Yet another example of the kindness and concern that I have routinely encountered in Japan. This is one of the many things that makes it so hard to leave here...

(Note to Tetsuro: if you are reading this, forgive me -I forgot to take a new photo of you and Junko! Instead, I had to go into my archives to find a photo of you. I'll try to make this up to you, next time. And, thanks for the great walk to the Post Office!)

Toshi, again!

2006-08-27T17:34:00.000-07:00

I spent Sunday afternoon in Shibuya with Toshimaru Nakamura (aka No-input Mixer) and his girlfriend. They knew of a great little place, the Margaret Howell Cafe, complete with picnic tables and situated on a quiet street. (Anytime you can use the term "quiet street" in Shibuya, you can be assured that you have found a special place.)

Toshi has been so busy. He has already been in Europe twice this year for tours with various projects. He has a new CD out on Erstwhile Records with Keith Rowe entitled, Between. And, he is leaving for Europe, again, in October for a tour with Billy Roisz. This last project sounded so interesting. Roisz is a video artist who uses the "no-input video mixer!" Really! Like Toshi, she creates a feedback loop on her video mixer! Toshi said that this duo has been a most satisfying project for him. They will be touring in Austria and eastern Europe in the fall.

I finally got a chance to discuss the "Backyard Project" with Toshi. He was quite interested and accepted Berklee's official invitation to apply for the PAJ grant. Two of the artists on my list have now agreed to be part of this project. Today, I'm meeting with Tetsuro Yasunaga and it is my hope that he, too, will want to take part in this proposed collaboration and tour.

PS: The road case in above photo does, indeed, hold Toshi's no-input mixer. He had had a performance the night before. It was so much fun to walk through the crowds of Shibuya with Toshi... and his famous mixer!

Backyard Launch

2006-08-27T03:06:00.000-07:00

This weekend may have been the official launch of the "Backyard Project." Yesterday, I met with with Keiichi Sugimoto and was able to officially invite him to apply with myself and Berklee, for the 2007-2008 Performing Arts Japan Grant. Performing Arts Japan (PAJ) is a grant offered by the Japan Foundation and supports artistic collaboration and touring in an effort to expose north American audiences to Japanese arts and culture.

Our idea for this grant (working title, "Backyard Project" ) is for a small group of Boston electronic musicians and Tokyo electronic musicians to swap digital audio files of field recordings from their respective neighborhoods: the Boston musicians would create new compositions from Tokyo field recordings, the Tokyo musicians would work from Boston field recordings. If the grant application is successful, we are hoping to bring artists from the Tokyo electronic music community to Boston - and Berklee - for performances of the new compositions in the fall of 2007. Keiichi is the first artist I have been able to invite. He's anxious to take part. More to come...

After our meeting, Keiichi and I met Yoko, his girlfriend, and headed to the Uplink Gallery in Shibuya. This is one of my favorite venues for underground music in Tokyo. We saw a performance by Miroque, a keyboardist who had organized a trio to perform - among other things - improvisations to visual images. The visual images were amazing: very slow, morphing, time-lapsed photography of Tokyo landmarks and city scenes. I was so impressed! I asked Keiichi if he had any idea of what software program could perform such sublime shape-shifiting of images. Like me, he did not know, but was curious.

Afterwards, we enjoyed coffee and I saw an iPhoto slideshow of Keiichi's recent tour (as Fourcolor) in China. He and Yoko had captured some great shots of Tai Pei, Hong Kong, and Macau. Made we want to go there, of course!

Kobe, Post 3

2006-08-24T03:04:00.000-07:00

This is the last post for the Kobe photos. I'm going to be thinking of Kobe - its feel and those great people - for a long time.

Lots of meetings scheduled for the next few days as I prepare to wrap up and return to Boston - the fall semester approaches. But, these meetings should be very enjoyable, with new developements and news that I will post here.

Kobe, Post 2

2006-08-23T00:25:00.000-07:00

More Kobe photos...

Kobe, Post 1

2006-08-23T00:12:00.000-07:00

I just returned to Tokyo from Kobe. I was there as part of the second phase of the Berklee Clinics with Koyo Conservatory. Really enjoyed Kobe. Its setting, a large city that runs from the harbor up to the foothills of the surrounding mountains, is spectacular. And, the people are warm, the atmosphere relaxed. At the closing concert, yesterday, I told the students that I was never leaving and needed someone to let me live at their home! :)

I managed to get some nice photos from the closing concert and the drum circle which I facilitated on Monday. I'm going to try a couple of other posts in order to upload all of the photos. Some of my fellow Berklee faculty are in the photos. The entire contingent in Kobe was myself, Larry Monroe, Scott DeOgburn, Mark White, Suzanna Sifter, John Pierce, and Mirek Vana. On Monday, we were joined by Roger Brown and David Mckay, which was a treat!

Note: for some reason, Safari keeps crashing when I attempt to upload photos. I'm using Netscape as my alternate browser and it seems to be getting my photos to the Blogger server...

Himawari

2006-08-19T19:18:00.000-07:00

Today (Sunday) is another travel day. I'm preparing to catch the bullet train for a trip to the Kansai region. It's HOT here in Tokyo today. Kansai region may be even hotter. No complaints, however - at least it feels like summer here in Japan.

Last night, I saw Himawari perform at Koen Dori Classics, a club in the heart of Shibuya. Hima has been documented before in this blog (see September, 2005), and is the duo of Lena and Takeshi Ichikawa. They had really done their homework for this show: Koen Dori Classics was packed.

Highlights:
To my surprise, Lena did a solo cover (voice and piano) of an Akiko Yanno song. It was really good - Lena can channel Akiko Yanno. (Note: Akiko Yanno is a legendary Japanese chanteuse - think Kate Bush, and you'll have an idea of her idiosyncratic place in Japanese music.) And, as was the case the first time I saw them perform, Takeshi's video work is outstanding. He has a real grasp of the rhythm and placement of visual images. After the show, I told him that he should think about getting into the film business. He would would be great!

There was such a warm feeling at the show. So many of Takeshi and Lena's friends had come to see them. Takeshi's parents had even made the trip down from Nagano (home of the 1998 winter olympics) to see the show!

Note: Lots of problems using Blogger.com and Safari, today. Every time I tried to upload photos, Safari would crash. I will return to this post at a later date and attempt to add the photos from the show.

Nagoya

2006-08-17T23:02:00.000-07:00

I have just returned to Tokyo after spending three days in Nagoya. The reason for my trip was the 2006 Berklee Clinics at Koyo Conservatory. I'm tired, but happy.

This trip was a definite switch from my routine in Tokyo. Although not unwelcome, my body went into a bit of shock as I shifted gears into "Berklee speed." For those of us who teach at Berklee, the difference between regular life and "Berklee speed" is the equivalent of the difference between "impulse power" and "warp speed" on the Starship Enterprise. Life at Berklee is fast-moving and productive, and that quality follows its faculty on these international trips.

The students were, as always, a joy to work with. Yesterday, one of my presentations was a drum clinic. Whether it's in Nagoya, Boston, or Perugia, a room full of drummers has a special camaraderie - a special connection. It was so great to experience that yesterday, in Japan.

The Nagoya Clinics were Pt. 1 of two stops. The next round of clinics is in Kobe and thus, I will be heading down to the Kansai region on Sunday evening. It actually feels as though I have been operating at the aforementioned "Berklee speed" since the beginning of August. I can't believe how quickly this trip is flying by. I can see this stay in Japan drawing to a close soon, and yet - still - much to do before I return home...

Arubaito - The Side Project

2006-08-15T14:15:00.000-07:00

Arubaito means "part-time job." During my two stays over the last year, here in Japan, I have occasionally followed my nose and pursued interests other than the contemporary electronic music scene. These interests have included traditional Japanese arts, the Japanese language (especially the three "alphabets" - katakana, hiragana, and kanji), and now, my garage. The garage that Ginny and I own in Boston - 275 square feet of wooden frame built in 1924 (on six pillars instead of a foundation) - is falling down. It probably won't fall down this year, or next, or even the year after. But, one day in the future, it will.

I have written before in this blog about my good friend, Shizuo Harada, chief producer of last year's World Expo 2005, in Aichi, Japan. He is a visionary architect, concerned not only with beautiful and functional designs, but environmentally friendly ones also. He and the team of Kaz Iwamoto and Yumiko Katagiri,(IKA) have designed a gem: a new, 2 story, 550 sq. ft garage, that combines simple, functional design with a Japanese esthetic. And, it includes an approx. 45 sq. ft. soundproof drum room!

I have been meeting with them semi-regularly this summer. Last week, Ginny was able to come along and see the final plans. Perhaps I should set the word "final" in quotes, because we have yet to show these plans to our very American contractor. We don't know what his response will be when he sees some of the Japanese touches, like the circular "kura" (Japanese storehouse) window, or the stones set in concrete - emulating a Japanese garden - for the downstairs floor of the garage.

Nevertheless, with plans in hand, we may actually go forward with this project in the fall. As the garage plans are so very eastern - so Japanese - the process of constructing the building will be chronicled here, should the stars align.

Typhoon no Nichibotsu

2006-08-09T19:00:00.000-07:00

Typhoon Nana has been hovering just to the southwest of Tokyo for the last couple of days. This has brought occasional rain, some rather humid air, and spectacular sunsets (nichibotsu). These photos were taken from the front and back of my apartment building on August 8th and 9th. It's difficult to come up with good things to say about a typhoon. But, certainly, these amazing sunsets are one nice residual effect.

(Just click on any of the photos and they should enlarge in your browser window.)

Temples and Shrines

2006-08-09T11:46:00.000-07:00

For the past few days, we've been on an unofficial tour of some very old temples and shrines. In fact, while having lunch with Ginny yesterday, a friend remarked that we have been embarked upon a bit of a "history lesson." The accompanying photos are of the Great Buddha at Kotokuin in Kamakura, Meiji Jingu, and Zojoji, respectively

First of all, it would probably be best to clarify that in Japan there is, indeed, a difference between a temple and a shrine. A temple is the place of worship for the Buddhist religion, while a shrine is the place of worship for the Shinto religion. Buddhism, of course, migrated east across asia from India, and is based on the teachings of the Buddha. Shinto, however, is an indigenous religion of Japan, worshipping God through the honoring of one's ancestors. The following is from japan-guide.com:

"Shinto Gods are called kami. They are sacred spirits which take the form of things and concepts important to life, such as wind, rain, mountains, trees, rivers and fertility. Humans become kami after they die and are revered by their families as ancestral kami."

Meiji Jingu (shrine) was built in 1920 in honor of the Emperor Meiji. It was destroyed by fire during World War II, but rebuilt in 1958. One of the most striking characteristics of the Meiji Jingu are the shrine grounds, which cover almost 175 acres. This is 175 acres of virtually uninterrupted greenery in the heart of Tokyo. It sits in spectacular contrast to the concrete and skyscrapers of nearby Shinjuku. For this reason alone, I would highly recommend it to anyone visiting Tokyo for the first time. To reach the main shrine, one must walk a long distance through the trees. It is a great means of "letting go" of the city behind.

Zojoji is a temple located near the center of Tokyo. It was founded in 1393 for the Jodo shu sect of Buddhism. It was established on its current site in Tokyo in 1598. It is easily reached via the Yamanote line and, of particular interest, there is a 5pm ceremony, open to the public on Saturday afternoons. This ceremony takes place in the great hall accompanied by chanting and incense. (This ceremony may, in fact, happen on the other days of the week, but Saturdays are the only days on which I have attended.)

Although I have traveled to Japan previously, I had never visited Kamakura until this week. Kamakura is a one hour train ride to the southwest of Tokyo. It is home to Kotokuin, the temple that is the site of the bronze statue of Amita Buddha. The statue is known as Daibutsu, the Great Buddha. It was cast in bronze in 1252 and, on Monday, against an impossibly blue sky. Its statistics are impressive: 13.35 meters tall and weighing 121 tons. But no statistics can prepare the viewer for the site of the statue, sitting peacefully in the distance, as you enter the temple grounds.

It should be noted that there is another Great Buddha statue that sits in Todai-ji, in Nara, some three hours west of Tokyo. (If you are a first time visitor to Japan, visiting Todai-ji should be part of any trip to nearby Kyoto.) That statue is even larger than that of Daibutsu. Perhaps the elements that distinguish the Daibutsu are its outdoor setting and the beautiful green color it has taken on due to weathering through the centuries.

Ginny Returns - Japan in Awe!

2006-08-05T10:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I met Ginny at the Shinagawa Prince Hotel. From the lobby, I could see her sitting by the window of the Airport Limo (bus) line. Back in Japan again - Japan in awe! Well, maybe it's just myself in awe. It's such a long trip from Boston to Tokyo, one that requires a great deal of patience and effort, as frequent travelers between the US and Japan know well.

Fittingly, it was the hottest day of year thus far in Tokyo - about 33 celsius (approx. 92 fahrenheit?). However, much of the humidity of Tsuyu - Rainy Season - is gone. The dew points here on the east coast of Japan seem to be much lower now. So, I found the day to be quite bearable.

As one might surmise from the photos, after dropping off her bags, we hopped on the train and went into Shibuya's Hachiko square. It's such a great way to begin any trip to Tokyo. Shibuya on jet-lag has to be a little bit like LSD with sleep deprivation: near total sensory overload. Nevertheless, as you might guess Ginny had a great time.

Coincidentally, yesterday's Japan Times had a story about Shibuya and the origination of the Hachiko dog statue. It turns out that Hachiko, the dog, really did exist! He was a dog who was owned for a year by a Tokyo University professor. The professor trained the dog to come and meet him at Shibuya station at the end of every day. After the professor suddenly died (leaving Hachiko "out of the loop," as the paper said), Hachiko continued to come to the train station every day... for the next 11 years! Noticing this steady, exemplary behavior on the part of Hachiko ("the perfect example of familial loyalty," says the Japan Times), Hachiko was rewarded as people began feeding him scraps of food until, finally, a statue was built in his honor - a statue honoring patience and effort.

Thus, the Hachiko statue is not only a familiar landmark for Tokyo residents to use as a meeting spot, it is a place in Shibuya that pays respect to the act of waiting, and the characteristics of patience and effort. And, hopefully, having that patience and effort rewarded. That's why I'm in awe...

Tetsuro

2006-08-01T18:55:00.000-07:00

Great evening, resuming my favorite conversations - regarding art, music, et al - with Tetsuro Yasunaga. Tetsuro is one fourth of the laptop group Minamo, and along with Keiichi Sugimoto, founder of the Cubic Music record label. I met Tetsuro near the end of my stay here in Tokyo last fall. But, we quickly found much common ground, musically and otherwise. He was also responsible for introducing me to many of the people who are part of the electronic music community here.

Last night, Tetsuro took me to Cafe Huit, a fine coffee bar in Shinjuku. (I am building the greatest of databases of the best places for coffee in Tokyo! If you're coming here anytime in the near future, I can let you know where all the cool spots are.) We quickly picked up where we left off last year. Tetsuro has three different recording projects in various stages of development. Every one of them sounds wonderful and his descriptions had me interested in hearing them immediately.

The first of these was mentioned in a previous post; it is an upcoming CD collaboration between Minamo and Tape, the respected European acoustic/electronic group. I found out from Tetsuro that most of the recording was actually acoustic! That's a switch for Minamo. And, he confirmed Keiichi's report that they have a large hard drive filled with the sessions and will be editing later this year.

The second project is a collaboration with Taylor Deupree, founder of the 12k record label. I didn't get a lot of details regarding this particular project, but I generally am quite fond of almost anything I hear on 12k. Just the thought of Taylor Deupree and Tetsuro working together is exciting.

The third project really piqued my interest. Tetsuro is one half of a laptop duo called, "Voima." They have been working on improvisations that try to express the natural phenomena of, say, cells attracting or repelling. ("Something like cellular automata?," I asked. Tetsuro was intrigued by this phrase and asked me to write it down.) " Voima" has made a recording that has attracted the interest of David Sylvian. Tetsuro said that they need to re-record some parts as, in places, the recording quality is poor. However, as of now, there is a good chance their music will be released on Sylvian's Samadhi Sound label. Ganbatte kudasai, Tetsuro!

He also told me of an upcoming Minamo concert. They will be performing at a Buddhist temple outside of Tokyo later in August. (Be still my beating heart...) I'm not sure if my travel schedule will allow me to attend that show. However, I have my fingers crossed.

At the end of the evening, I had a chance to discuss the "Backyard Project " with him. This is a project that would involve a collaboration between Boston and Tokyo musicians, via the swapping of digital audio files of field recordings. He was excited about the possibility of this project and, again, both of us had our fingers crossed...

Tetsuro will be heard from, again, at this blog site soon!

The additional accompanying photos to this post were taken this past weekend at Zojoji, a beautiful Buddhist temple located in the Hammamatsucho neighborhood of Tokyo.

Installing

2006-07-29T14:30:00.000-07:00

Koenji is on the outskirts of Tokyo, near the end of the Marunouchi Subway line. Last night, I took the Marunouchi to this neighborhood in search of SALON @ Marbletron, a Tokyo venue that showcases independent and electronic music.

After 15 minutes of searching the local streets of Koenji, I walked by a smallish, bistro-like restaurant. I almost continued right past it, but a sign caught my eye: The Marble Company. Could this be the place? I started to walk in and ask, but then a map posted on the wall seemed to indicate that I should instead walk around the block if I wanted enter SALON. I did so, winding up in a tiny alley behind the restaurant. I found the rear entrance, entered the back door, then headed up the back steps behind the kitchen and was greeted by a young lady who was taking the cover charge and - from a cooler behind her - providing each customer with their drink order! I then walked into the tiny, but vibey SALON.

I can't possibly imagine what this room was used for in a past incarnation. It seems to have always been a venue for underground music. Despite the relatively small sq. footage, it had a high ceiling with concrete beams, a glass window behind the stage that looked down on the street below, and at the near end of the room, where I was seated, there was the tiniest corridor - just large enough for a human to squeeze through - that led to the lone bathroom. At show time, the place was just about packed and I counted 28 audience members including myself!

I was there to see Installing, an ambient trio led by the bassist, Tamaru. Keiichi Sugomoto is a member of the group and he had invited me to the performance. The instrumentation features Tamaru on electric bass (and many effects for said bass), Keiichi on guitar and laptop, of course, and Takahiko Yokogawa on electric violin, laptop and vocals. Their sound is characterized by Tamaru's fretless bass, which is often looped and processed. It was this character of the electric bass that distinguished Installing from any other Japanese electronica group I have heard, thus far. He uses his bass to outline beautiful, simple chord progressions and does so very s l o w l y... These slowly evolving progressions give one the feeling of an ever changing drone, particularly with the careful additions of Keiichi's processed guitar and Yokogawa's processed voice and violin. As Keiichi said later, "it's very gradual music." They played non-stop for an hour, running through several different compositions/improvs. It was mesmerizing.

An opening duo, Razuozonde, was also outstanding. Two guitarists, performing on electric and acoustic guitars created a lovely wall of guitar-based drones and noise. It was reminiscent of Fripp and Eno's "Evening Star" (a favorite album of mine). They played for nearly an hour (like Installing, non-stop) and received a tremendous ovation from the crowd when done.

Both performances reminded me of a Boston show of 5 years ago, at the Oni Gallery, which featured Stars of the Lid. The Oni was packed and SOTL played an hour set that had the crowd closing their eyes and nodding their heads in silence as the music washed over them. Last night's show was equally good.

Photography was extremely difficult. SALON @ Marbletron was very dark and, complicating matters considerably, the window facing the street behind the stage faced a very bright street lamp. This backlit all of the musicians. Although this wasn't so bad if one was just watching and listening, it was not an optimal setting for photographs. I did, however, capture six or seven minutes of video from which I might try to cull some photos.

Installing website:

http://www12.ocn.ne.jp/~tmr/

A Night at the Kabuki

2006-07-28T09:55:00.000-07:00

Last night, I had my first experience of Kabuki, the traditional Japanese theatrical art form. Certainly, a large part of the experience was being able to see Kabuki at Kabuki-za, the famous theater in Ginza. The theater itself was a treat - sitting inside the large old building was as satisfying as a trip to Boston's Symphony Hall.

Miki Hotta, my contact from the Japan Foundation HQ here in Tokyo, explained to me that Kabuki must have three basic elements: singing, dancing, and acting. The standard for the presentation of these elements was established centuries ago in Japan's Edo period, when Kabuki flowered and was the hottest entertainment ticket in town. Kabuki became famous for lavish productions complete with actors who could fly across the stage, sets that suddenly disappeared through the stage floor, and outstanding sound and visual effects. (Unthinkably, all of this was achieved without CGI animation!) Kabuki was also known for long nights or days at the theater. My experience last night certainly tapped into that precedent as the ticket provided the theater goer with an opening play, a long intermission (during which many of the audience ate from bento boxes), and then a second play - kind of like an old double feature at the movies.

Generally, male actors are the only actors in Kabuki. Ages ago, a government edict banned women from performing in Kabuki. Today, Japanese culture is long past such anachronistic practices, of course. Nonetheless, the tradition of only male actors in the Kabuki theater continued into the modern age. Thus, you could say quite honestly, and fairly, that the actors in Kabuki have evolved female impersonation into a very rich art form.

Referring back to the basic elements described above, the two plays I saw last night were apparently more modern and less traditional, as there was little singing and dancing. The first play appeared to be an existential drama that featured three characters: a pair of ill-fated lovers and a guilt ridden old man. The play ended with one of the lovers - the woman - and the old man choosing to eat from a poisonous fish in order to escape from the harsh reality of the world. I watched and listened without the benefit of an English guide and had to admit that my Japanese is far from strong enough to catch all of the subtleties of such a drama.

After the long intermission, I bought an English audio guide and, wow, what a difference! The second play concerned a magical Princess, her ladies in waiting, demons, a "long-tongued hag," and others, who inhabited a realm forbidden to humans at the top of a castle in ancient Japan. One day, a samurai warrior climbs the stairs to the top of the castle and, of course, falls in love with the magical princess. Upon his return to the real world, he is viewed as a traitor by his lord and the other retainers. He must flee for his life, back to the top of the castle! There, he and the magical princess do battle with the other warriors, eventually prevailing, though both are blinded in the battle.

I loved the final touch: over the last five minutes of the play, a new character is introduced: "the craftsman." He is another magical being, who cures the samurai and princess of their blindness, and with a long monolog, wraps everything up for the audience. Does Shakespearean drama or western opera have such a character?

The plays were absolute eye and ear candy. I loved all of the sets, the sound effects appearing from all sides of the theater, and just the feeling of that fine old building.

The universal theme at work in the last play was not lost on the audience: in order to find true love (or, truly find love), we must all go blind - to the rules and mores of society, to the preconceptions of others, even to our own prejudices. Joseph Campbell would have loved it. He would have mined all of the mythic juice and resonance from its veins.

Find true love... and maybe you'll meet "the crafstman!"

A Day at the Record Label

2006-07-27T09:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Keiichi Sugimoto met me at Shinjuku station. We proceeded to catch the Marunouchi line subway (chikatetsu) to the Tokyo neighborhood of Nakano-sakaue. I immediately like the neighborhood. A tree-lined main avenue, replete with shops, stores, and businesses, gave way to private residences as we turned right and walked through a maze of tiny streets. I told Keiichi that the narrow winding streets reminded me of cow paths. Eventually, after circumnavigating a route that I would never be able to remember, we arrived at a small commercial building. We entered, removed our shoes and descended into the basement, the home of Keiichi's record labels, Cubic Music and Cubic Fabric.

On this afternoon, I got the chance to see - up close - how an underground music community supports itself through sharing resources and vision. Keiichi (along with label co-owner Tetsuro Yasunaga) shares the office with two other very good Japanese independent record labels, Plop and Flyrec. When we stepped into the entry way of the office space, I could hear music and conversation coming from the office of Nao Sugimoto (no relation to Keiichi), who runs Plop records, as well as an offshoot, Spekk. Having been no stranger to record label offices, I thought I could recognize the "tone" of artists having a conversation with the head of A&R. The only difference was that the music being played was not something being imagined as a Top 40 hit. Instead, it was a beautiful, otherworldly collection of primarily electronic music. Later, I wanted to tell Nao that I had really enjoyed the music, but I was not sure that it was the appropriate time to to so.

As I sat down to discuss the record label business with Keiichi, Shinobu, the very kind company intern brought me tea. After introductions, she turned to Keiichi and, referring to me, said, "Yoku kuru?" My listening comprehension for Japanese is improving! She had asked Keiichi, "does he come here (Japan) often?" Keiichi explained my background and purpose for visiting Japan. Shinobu was excited about the fact that she would be attending the Fuji Rock Festival this upcoming weekend.

We eased into our talk and Keiichi explained that Cubic Music releases CD's that are, to his mind, more "pop," while Cubic Fabric releases music that features more detail and focus on pure sound. When Keiichi says "pop," he does not mean J-Pop or Britney Spears. He's referring to that certain playful, accessible quality I've previously identified in his music. So far, Cubic Music/Fabric has released 19 CD's since its start in 1999. Most of these CD's are by other artists in whose music he took an interest. As he told me, he wanted to start a label because he wanted to "release his friends' sounds."

Boston/Berklee musicians: take note. Here is where we come to that idea of community support. Three and a half years ago, I came across Keiichi as an artist whose albums and musical vision attracted me. This was no different than my initial reaction to, say, Bjork or Radiohead. But, when one thinks of those latter two artists, one does not conjure the image of record label owners, working hard to release their peers' music. To this listener, Keiichi has already created a couple of albums whose artistic content comes close to matching a Bjork or Radiohead release. And yet, five days a week, he shows up at the office and puts time into releasing the music of others, while providing physical and moral support to two other label owners doing the same. Now that is community. That is how a musical scene is created and sustained. And, to some degree, it has to be part of the equation that put the Tokyo electronic music scene on my own radar.

The shared office space of Cubic Music/Fabric, Plop, and Flyrec is a working model for independent music and musicians. No musician is an island. Boston - as well as many other cities that have working musicians - could learn a lot from this attitude.

The office also houses a small recording studio, seen in the photo above. Keiichi says that he as already used it for his own music and that the office is hoping to use it more in the future as a place where the labels' artists can do some recording. Although quite small, it even had a drum set and set of vibes!

The URL for Cubic Music:

http://www.cubicmusic.com/index_f.html

The URL for Plop:

http://www.inpartmaint.com/plop/e/home_e.html

The URL for Spekk:

http://www.spekk.net/

The following URL will take you to a great interview with Nao Sugimoto regarding the Tokyo minimalist electronic scene:

http://igloomag.com/document.php?task=view&id=645&category=profiles&author=

The URL for Flyrec:

http://www.flyrec.com/release/index.html

PS: The day was really lovely, given that this is Tokyo during July: about 86-87 degrees, comfortable humidity levels, and for the first time in days, no clouds - only blue sky. Wish you all could have been here!

Keiichi

2006-07-23T11:30:00.000-07:00

Readers of this blog might recall Keiichi Sugimoto from my experiences of last fall. He works as a solo artist under the moniker, Fourcolor, and is also part of the electronic group Minamo (one of my favorite bands, I might add). To my delight, Keiichi and I were able to resume our conversations yesterday at the Midwest Cafe in Shibuya. This get-together provided me with an opportunity to catch up on his very productive activities of the last ten months.

Keiichi is wearing three distinct hats these days: musician, record label co-owner/manager (with Minamo's Tetsuro Yasunaga), and graphic designer. I encountered the fruits of those latter two jobs on my third day in Japan, this summer. I walked into Tower Records, headed to a listening booth and a brightly colored CD cover caught my eye. It was the debut album of an instrumental group from Sweden called Pallin. The CD is entitled, appropriately, "Bright Moments." When I picked it up for inspection, I saw that it was released on Keiichi and Tetsuro's label, Cubic Music. Of course, I bought it. When I opened the CD, I found out that the CD package design was also by Keiichi. The album contains the playful, instrumental music I've come to expect from Cubic, but it's noteworthy that the CD is all acoustic - no electronics. I thought that this was an interesting step forward for Keiichi in the development of his label.

Over coffee yesterday, he explained that wearing these three "hats" has kept him extremely busy, "but I'm happy!", he says smiling. On the musical performance side of things, he has a lot brewing (sorry - that pun was not intended!). Later this summer, 12k, the wonderful New York based label run by Taylor Deupree, will release Keiichi's new Fourcolor CD, entitled, "Letter of Sounds." "The title is maybe a bit sentimental," Keiichi says. In addition, earlier this year, Minamo, recorded with the highly regarded European electro/acoustic group, Tape. Keiichi says that the results of this recording yielded 40GB of data currently housed on his hard drive. He will be mixing and editing the music for release later this year on the Japanese label, Headz. Finally, he's a member of a new group called Installing. Installing is comprised of Keiichi on guitar and Mac powerbook, electric bass, and a violinist who - as Keiichi does with his guitar - processes the violin via laptop. I'm going to see their live performance later this week in Koenji at the venue, Marbletron. Can't wait to hear that!

Often, when I'm home in Boston, I'll run into musician friends and ask "how's it going?" The standard response: "Oh man - I am so busy!" To be fair, that's often my response to the same question. In Keiichi's case, however, there's nothing hollow about the statement: he's working hard and working often. What I found informative (and inspiring) is that by offering three distinct and connected services (musician, label owner, and graphic designer) he has brought so many interesting people and opportunities into his orbit. If you do all three of those things well, you don't have to network - the network comes to you! He seems to get great satisfaction from working and interacting with people on many different levels. This is one of the things that I like best about him. He is such a "bright" spirit.

You can hear an MP3 of his forthcoming Fourcolor CD at the 12k website:

http://www.12k.com/index2.html

You can see the latest from Cubic Music here:

http://www.cubicmusic.com/english/frame.html

More from Keiichi - at this blog site - soon...

Chihei Hatakeyama

2006-07-21T00:41:00.000-07:00

Last year, at the Uplink Factory in Shibuya, someone pointed out Chihei Hatakeyama to me. I was told that he had an album that was soon to be released on the Kranky label. This immediately caught my attention. Based in Chicago, Kranky is one of my favorite record labels. Kranky has been a force in supporting and distributing independent and electronic music and the label is home to some of my favorite bands and artists.

The album, called Minima Moralia, was released in the US in February. It quickly went to the top of my CD rotation. My wife described the music as being like, "a nice fire, by which you can warm yourself on a winter's evening." The instrumental music on Minima Moralia glows and simmers like embers in the fireplace during the holidays: a simply gorgeous recording.

Last night, it was my great pleasure to have dinner with the person behind this music, Hatakeyama-san. His principal instrument is guitar which he started playing at the age of 16. He played in various bands, including cover ("copy") bands until the age of 20. At that time, he joked that he got tired of practicing and just wanted to play music. He reached a turning point when he discovered techno/electronic music and the Velvet Underground. (As has been noted elsewhere, by people more famous than myself, how many people became musicians and formed bands, after hearing the Velvet Underground? Thousands, if not more.) Another big influence around this time was Markus Popp's Oval project. He also mentioned Onsa, a record store on the outskirts of Tokyo that championed a lot of this music. This combination of factors and influences led Hatakeyama into the world of electronic music.

During our dinner, he was remarkably forthcoming about his tools and methods. Live performance is a key factor in the development of his music. He said that he generally starts with a rough pallet of loops and sounds that he brings out to the live performances. In the past, he would generate live performances with a dual-laptop set-up: a Windows laptop would use the Fruity Loops application and a Mac laptop would use Max/MSP. The laptops were never synchronized. (Interestingly, he's now able to execute his live performances as before, but using only a single Mac and Ableton Live.) During the live performances, his rough pallet of sounds and loops starts to evolve and congeal. He then takes the results of his live performances back into his studio (often importing them into Nuendo, Reaktor, or other audio application) and - well - processes, processes, and processes some more, until these results yield something completely unique. (Nice tidbit: he likes to use tape hiss as a "color" during processing.)

In fact, it was very important to him that I mention that Minima Moralia contains no synthesizer sounds, much less presets. All of the sounds on MM are of his own creation, with the majority of them originally produced on guitar or vibes. MM is a wonderful sonic stew - every track full of sonic ear candy and mesmerizing drones. There are many ears that would be surprised that the CD is a synth/synth application- free zone. Hey! It's a "No Synthing" area!

I told him how impressed I've been by the Tokyo electronic music scene. I remember that he was working the merchandize booth for Keiichi Sugimoto's show at the Uplink last year. He agreed that there really is a sense of community among independent and electronic musicians here. But, he feels that they are too small and the scene too limited. He wants to see them "join" with others, elsewhere, and grow this community.

Takeshi had accompanied us to dinner. Those last words by Hatakeyama really got us talking. Takeshi thinks "we" (esp. me) have a responsibility to further this scene, given the unique access I have had to these artists for the last year. Takeshi's right. For starters, he suggested creating a website to house all this information and provide more exposure for these artists. I suggested a film documentary. (Takeshi smiled, "I get to film it!) Both of us agree that we must find a way to realize this responsibility.

Chihei Hatakeyama on the web:

http://www.chihei.org/

Kranky's website:

http://www.kranky.net/

If you scroll down the page and click on "Chihei Hatakeyama," you will be able to navigate to a window that will allow you to audition MP3's of Minima Moralia.

My thanks to Chihei Hatakeyama - it was inspiring talking with him. I hope to see him again before my return to the US.

Gothic Shinjuku

2006-07-19T18:03:00.000-07:00

We've had two cool, rainy days here in Tokyo. It's actually been quite nice. The heat of last week was quite impressive. Tokyo seems to be prone to the subtropical influence of Japan's southern regions. Moist and hot! ("Mushiatsui" in Japanese.) These two rainy days have provided a welcome break from the heat.

In Shinjuku this afternoon, the skyscraper behind the famous Takashimaya department store was enveloped in fog. I took a picture and thought, "hmmm... it's 'gothic Shinjuku.'" I like the sound of that!

Anchorage

2006-07-18T08:27:00.000-07:00

Anchorage is a coffee house in Shibuya. When they returned to Tokyo three years ago, Takeshi and his wife, Lena, made a point of seeking out and finding the cool coffee places. They searched for the "anti-Starbucks," looking for places with a unique atmosphere and that were appropriately suitable for long conversations over coffee and cake. They succeeded in finding several such places in Tokyo, with Anchorage being my personal favorite.

Anchorage doesn't even remotely look like a Starbucks or Pete's. First of all, there is the thin haze of cigarette smoke that hangs in the upper atmosphere when you walk in. I'm no fan of smoking, but I have to say that when I walk inside Anchorage, I feel like I've gone back to the 1950's and I expect to see Beat Poets holding court at a back table. Then, there are the table tops themselves - which are marble - and sitting on many of the tables are detailed models of boats. I'm not sure of the exact tie-in between the old boats and Alaska ((intrepid explorers forging their way, North to Alaska?), but I still like them! And, finally, at most of the tables, are phones for calling the kitchen and placing your order. The feel of Anchorage is, what?... retro-kitsch? A throwback to the days when everyone smoked and folks wouldn't dream of taking their coffee without the stimulation of good conversation? Perhaps it's all of the above and I like the fact that you probably can't find a place like this anywhere in America in 2006. You've got to come to Shibuya.

Takeshi and I met at Anchorage yesterday afternoon to discuss, among other things, some of the details of my project, here, in Japan. While talking, the subject of "6D" came up. "6D" is our nickname for Six Drumsets. Some readers of this blog will know that Six Drumsets is a drum/percussion project Takeshi and I have been involved with for a long time - 12 years in fact. It is, as the name implies, a band of consisting of six drummers playing six drum sets. We've been on hiatus since 2002, largely because its members are currently spread out all over the globe. (It's a challenge to pull off a weekly gig and rehearsal when one of the members lives in Stockholm, another in Tokyo, another in New York, yet another in Nashville, and two of us in Boston.)

I asked an innocent question: "If we could all get together, say, in September, for a week, what kind of new album would we record?" We riffed on this for a bit when Takeshi said, "lets just ask everyone to record 10 minutes of drumming from their current homes, and then we'll make an album from each of those 10 minutes of music." I liked the idea, which is, essentially, digital file swapping. Many CD's in recent years have been recorded via file swapping. Perhaps the most well known is the Postal Service's, "Give Up." The duo project of Jimmy Tamborello and Ben Gibbard, the Postal Service was created by sending digital audio files back and forth by way of - yes - the postal service. Now, with broadband internet connections and portals like iChat, one can send digital audio files quite quickly via a good internet connection for one's computer. Takeshi and I agreed that attempting such an album would basically be an endeavor in digital signal processing and cutting/pasting. But, both of us really like the fact that, simply, it could be a way for us to do an album at a time when we're so spread out. Our idea: six new pieces, each titled by the first name of a band member ("Johnny," "Jon," "Johan," "Marko," "Takeshi," "Steve").

Well, Anchorage had worked again! I enjoyed the coffee and when we left (three hours later), I had been stimulated by our conversation and the new ideas about Six Drumsets. My thought: can this idea of file swapping of Six Drumsets audio be tied into this current project in Japan...?

Sunset and Ink

2006-07-16T09:55:00.000-07:00

I guess that it can be hard to confer value to heat, humidity, haze, and smog. Well, I've found at least one plus: sunsets. Over the last two nights, I've seen some beautiful ones. Last night, I went to Yokohama to attend a dance performance and, when I arrived at the Yokohama waterfront, I was treated to some lovely sights as the sun was going down. (Note to readers of this blog: if you simply click on any of the photos, they will enlarge in your browser's window.)

I received an invitation from the Japan Foundation to attend Ink, a modern dance collaboration between two Australian artists (choreographer Kate Denborough and dancer Gerard Van Dyck) and two Japanese artists (installation artist Kyota Takahashi and dancer Shigemi Kitamura). Their show was accompanied by an effective electronic music score by Byron Scullin.

Why is it that, to this writer, of all the art forms, modern dance often seems the most difficult to grasp? Right after the human voice, one would think that dancing and movement should be the most primal, visceral, and immediate expressions of art. Of course, modern dance is an abstraction, an art form using the language of dance for expression (i.e., it's not merely the shaking of one's booty). It's just that the abstract expressionism of a Georgia O'Keeffe or Jackson Pollock hits me with much more impact than abstract ideas presented through dance. I guess my genetic code is wired to be more aurally and visually oriented than, say, kinetically. (Hmmm... but what are drums if not, on some basic level, a kinetic activity?)

The opening of last night's performance had a moment of tremendous immediacy, however. A man sleeping on the floor of the stage (Van Dyck) apparently dreams of a woman dancing madly (Kitamura - the dreamed?) to the soundtrack of an old Japanese rock song. Kitamura's dance was tornadic (is that a word?). It was my favorite part of the show and I'm happy that it occured at the top because that moment maintained and guided my interest throughout the rest of the evening.

Ink seemed to be exploring the relationship between a dreamer and his/her dream. And, interestingly, asked the question, "does the dreamed dream the dreamer?" OK - admittedly THAT is quite an abstract concept. So, perhaps some of the more distant moments in the show could be understood and forgiven. By show's end, I still held reservations regarding the effectiveness of some modern dance presentations, but I'm going to remember Kitamura's opening dance for a long time.

Yesterday afternoon, Tokyo had a strong thunderstorm. It's the first one I've ever experienced in Japan. I thought, "there must be cool air out there somewhere!" In fact, as I was walking along the Yokohama waterfront last night, I thought I noticed an improvement. However, by the time I had made it back to Tokyo and my apartment, I was sweating and exhausted. The summer climate, here, requires some measure of adjustment on the part of the traveler.

(But, those sunsets are great!)

The Neighborhood

2006-07-13T19:57:00.000-07:00

Last evening, about a block from my apartment, I walked past a building with a sign out front that read (in English), "Museum of Logistics." I love that title! I immediately started thinking about the kinds of things that could be in there. Like, say, the brain children of movie directors and record producers, recording engineers, highway/interstate engineers, city planners, and classcial percussionists! I have to go back there and see if there really are visiting hours. They'll probably think I'm crazy.

Takanawa is quite lovely for the dense city of Tokyo. There's a fair amount of greenery (although it will never be confused with the lush greenery we Bostonians take for granted: Arnold Arboretum, the Emeral Necklace, etc.). Its name translates roughly to "built up - up high;" and it is indeed part of a huge hill that borders on three other neighborhoods: Gotanda, Takanawadai, and Shinagawa.

Shinagawa is quite famous for gai-jin, or "foreigner." Sony has a huge presence in Shinagawa and the train station is active with local Tokyo trains and Shinkansen, the bullet train. Thus, as I walk around this area, it's not uncommon to see other foreigners. I frequently hear German, French, or Italian languages as I walk past them.

The block on which I'm living seems to also have a few embassies. They are smallish, modest buildings. There's one right outside the balcony of my apartment, but there is no signage out front and I don't recognize the flag. In the mornings, as I finish my run, I have seen folks who appear European, coming out and collecting dozens of different newspapers from the mailbox. There are other neighborhoods in Tokyo, like Akasaka, I believe, that host larger and more prominent embassies. I wonder if this is the "embassy low rent district?"

By no means do I intend to give the impression that Takanawa is dominated by foreigners and tourists - it is most definitely not. Its ultimate character is most certainly Japanese. It's simply that often, when I'm out and about, I'm not the only person wandering around who's so obviously from across the sea. (And who may be wondering what sort of exhibitions are on display this week at the Museum of Logistics.)

Coffee and cigarettes

2006-07-11T08:55:00.000-07:00

I'm writing this blog on my first morning back in Tokyo. I'm in a new apartment - a different building, in fact, from the one I stayed in last fall. It has some of the elements of "the compartment." Although it is 50 sq. ft larger than that fondly remembered "ship's cabin," it is still quite small and ingeniously laid out. I have a couple of things that I need to address with the management, however. And, one of those is the smell of cigartettes, which was nearly overwhelming when I arrived yesterday afternoon. I've talked to many of the readers of this blog about cultural differences between Japan and the US (often accompanied with glowing descriptions of Japanese practices). OK - here's one place where the US probably leads the world in terms of cultural awareness: smoking laws. The progressive and pro-active laws regarding public smoking are an enlightened initiative in so many US cities. I do believe that my life is improved because of them. There's lots of public smoking, here in Japan. (To be fair, however, it's probably improved from years ago.) Thus, it follows that homes, apartments, and hotel rooms would lodge many smokers. (For the record: hotels, here, do have plenty of non-smoking rooms.) I was fortunate last fall that neither of the apartments I rented had had previous smoking tenants, so far as I could tell. This current apartment smells like the last tenant may have been a HEAVY smoker.

Went running at 6:45 this morning through the lovely Takanawa neighborhood. So many feelings - nostalgic and familiar ones - from last fall. The streets were quiet on this warm and muggy AM. A thought I had was that I might miss the term "warm and muggy" by the time I return to the US. In other words, the real heat has apparently not reared its head, yet.

While running, I went by a smallish building that had a plaque out front: Embassy of Iceland. I wanted to go in and ask about Bjork! (I wonder if that happens all the time now...? I guess it's the cost of being a small country with such a famous, and singular, export.)

Today, I meet with my contact at the Japan Foundation for orientation. Then, it's onto a new phase of this project. One thought: I need to let this particular stay in Japan develop its own identity and direction. If I'm too caught up in memories of last fall - which are still quite powerful for me - I might miss something important, here and now...

Bags are packed...

2006-07-07T21:05:00.000-07:00

The photo accompanying this post is of a "doma," the "in between space" found at the entrance of many Japanese homes. The doma is that space which buffers inside from outside - a transitional space. At the word's root is "ma" the hidden, or quiet center of things.

To this date, the Drumming on Water blog has felt authentic only when used in conjunction with the Japan project. This is one reason why it's been almost seven months since I last posted. For the last three days, I've been packing in preparation for a return to Tokyo, and the music and musicians that I researched last fall. At the top of 2006, I was certainly not expecting an opportunity to return to Japan and continue this work. I'm grateful to Berklee and the Japan Foundation for helping to make this happen yet again.

Tonight, I'm testing the blog site. Does everything still work? Apparently so.

Next post, from Tokyo. Fingers crossed...

Is Underworld at the Edge...

2005-12-08T18:39:00.000-08:00

... of the wave we'll all be riding?

For the second time in the last month, I've downloaded a great 25 minutes + of new music from Underworld. Underworld are one of the true artists of electronic (dance) music and have been a favorite band of mine for many years. These new releases are quite strong - on a par with their best albums. All of this new music is being released as an online download, with artwork, from their website. Price: 5 pounds (or about 9 US dollars).

Bypassing the retail stores entirely (and, as of this evening, even the iTunes store does not have these releases), Underworld are making their music immediately available to their fans and interested buyers. Of course, they have a long and successful career which supports such an endeavor. (Most likely, an emerging band would not see the same amount of daily action and inquiries on their homepage.) This all begs the question: Is the future now - or has it been here for a decade and we're only now waking up to the possibilities?

Go here to find out:
http://www.underworldlive.com/index/shop

The photo accompanying this post is from the gallery of artwork accompanying Underworld's latest music download.

Start Here, Start Now

2005-11-30T10:55:00.000-08:00

Hard to believe that almost a month has passed since my return to the U.S. My transition has had a few bumps. I was not quite ready to leave Japan. In fact, if I could have stretched my stay out to, say, a year, I might have done so.

Last night, Ginny and I attended a surprise birthday party for our friend, Jamie. Happy to report that he was, indeed, happy - and surprised. Among the many conversations in which we took part, one brought up an interesting question. While discussing the nature my stay in Japan, someone asked if I had picked up any cool, new electronic gear in Japan. It's such an obvious question! I'm surprised that no one else has asked. The answer was a simple, "no." Perhaps this seems like a missed opportunity on my part. But, I went on to explain that the artists I met never seemed enamored with gear lust: that particular desire to always have the newest and hottest equipment. In fact, the unspoken message I discerned from these artists would probably be something like, "use what you have, now." Can there be any better message for any artist in any field?

As I recently finished my required report for the Japan Foundation, I will reference part of it now. If I could boil down what I saw, heard, and learned - the basic traits and approaches that these artists shared - it would read something like the following.

1. A singular, individual voice. All of the artists documented in this blog have rejected the easy path of electronic music making (and synth/sample presets) now available in so many current computer music programs. If I may use another analogy - in this case, painting - the individuals in this group are the kind of "painters" that would prefer to create and mix their own "paints." No pre-fabricated colors will suffice. Their music, and our enjoyment of it, is all the better for this approach.
2. A unique "input" device (or means of creating sound). Be it a no-input mixer, a sampler that only uses the test tone ("100% memory free sampler!" -Sachiko M), or a single guitar plugged into a laptop, each artist has found the device that fits their "voice," their personality.
3. Simple tools. Although the musical focus here is, of course, electronic, I found no complex or dizzyingly elaborate instrument set-ups. In fact, in some cases (such as Sachiko M), the set-up is downright frugal. These artists have discovered how to work efficiently with a relatively small set of tools.
4. A willingness to forge their own path. Several artists from this group reached a period of frustration with the generic vocabulary of an instrument and/or a standard career path. They were willing to forego this vocabulary, this path, and go their own way.

The latter is a particularly courageous act. Strange to say, but various niches -or cultures- in the music industry can be downright judgmental. You wouldn't necessarily expect this in an area of the arts. But, as is the case in just about every area of human endeavor, I guess, judging another on their ability to master a generic vocabulary can be as inhibiting as it is illuminating. (This goes for both the judge and the judged.) The mastery of any generic vocabulary is but a step in a process. The artists I met in Japan all seemed to know when the time came to move on, to take the next step.

And, just when is that time? Just when should one take that next step? Their answer (and mine): Start here and now.

Sachiko M

2005-10-31T19:15:00.000-08:00

This evening is only the second time in my life that I have not been in the U.S. for Halloween. The previous time this occurred was during a music tour in Taiwan in late October/early November, 1997. However, in no way was my Halloween lacking. I hope that readers of this blog will grant me the license to say that it was an absolute "treat" to spend some time on this day interviewing Sachiko M.

As was the case with several of her colleagues, I came across her work via the Erstwhile Box Set (mentioned in the previous post titled, "Taku"). The DVD included with that box featured a duet performance by Sachiko and a vocalist. What was unusual in the performance was not the fascinating and bizarre guttural sounds produced by the vocalist. Instead, it was Sachiko's complete devotion to sine waves that got my attention. That's right: Sachiko's only musical sound source - her voice if you will - is sine waves.

Her career path has been unique. Except for piano lessons as a child ("I hated it," she says smiling), she never played an instrument. It was during a one year stint at a broadcasting school that she discovered a door into the world of music: the TAPE RECORDER. At the school, she had to a take a class in recording and it was in this class that one of her teacher's noted, "You really love the tape recorder." She was hooked. Later, she got a job with a theater company as a sound effects artist. She really enjoyed working with tapes, "but didn't like the atmosphere of a theater group." It was here that she came to the attention of Japanese guitarist/avant musical artist, Otomo Yoshihide. Otomo was impressed, thinking that she was virtuosic with the tapes and invited her to join his group, Ground Zero. Voila, a musical career is born.

In Ground Zero, she was the sampling artist. She continued her wizardry with sound effects, but now was working in a musical context, and most importantly, she had a sampler. She liked the sampler ("the sampler has good, quick response" for sound effects).

She then took a bold leap. In fact, upon hearing her tell it, I was reminded of Toshimaru Nakamura's (No-input Mixer) story of foregoing a career as an engineer and developing his own sound with the no-input mixer. Sachiko stopped playing the sound effects because, "I wanted my own sound - the sampler is not my sound. Then I found sine waves." She started working with the test tone (sine wave) of the sampler and found her voice.

Today, her set-up is a small sampler, two small oscillators, and a mixer. That's it. Of course, I started talking about the malleability of the sine wave. As it is such a neutral sound, I wondered why she did not run it through effect boxes and other devices. She stated that other people had already done such things. Through the dedicated use of sine waves, she is unique. I then had to ask if she uses a computer. "Only for emails and checking websites," she laughs. I laugh, too. Her disregard for what she perceives as conventional approaches is quite intense. "I don't like the laptop - it (i.e., the ability to create music on laptops and applications with presets) is too easy."

She has just returned (last week, in fact) from a tour in Europe where she performed in Germany and Italy. She's returning to Europe in January, when she will perform in Oslo. I asked her if she had performed in the U. S. It turns out that she was performing in the states as recently as April. Do you like the U.S.? "Only if I can smoke." We laugh again.

We began talking about other music and she told me that she "doesn't listen to other music. I would rather watch Japanese T.V. It's boring, I know," she says half apologetically. Sachiko is so calm and focused when speaking. You sense something very powerful, a strength underneath. Her singular focus on sine waves and her musical intent is quietly impressive and, perhaps, evidence of this strength.

It's Halloween. And, here in Japan, I am reminded by an artist once again to take off the mask and be yourself. There's a quote by Mark Rothko. I'm paraphrasing, but here goes, "Ultimately, the only thing you have to offer is yourself." Now, just go and find your input device...

Four Color Live

2005-10-30T12:45:00.000-08:00

Great evening. I Met Tetsuro for coffee and we then proceeded to the Uplink Factory/Gallery for Keiichi's solo show as Four Color. I'm so impressed with the artistic scene here in Tokyo. Tetsuro introduced me to so many of his electronic music friends and artists that, at this moment, I truly cannot remember all of their names. They had all turned out to see and hear Keiichi at a very interesting show featuring the musical and visual arts. Tetsuro and his musical partner, Asuna, from the band "Hell" (that's German language for "bright," "fair," or "light,") are seen in the top photo. (That photo makes me feel like Annie Leibovitz working for Rolling Stone magazine!) The artwork on the wall behind them is by a young artist from Osaka, named Zanpon. His works were featured throughout the gallery portion of Uplink. Keiichi, on stage, is featured in the two other photos.

Keiichi performed to a B&W film by Jun Miyazaki entitled, "Frontier" which won an honorable mention at this year's Cannes Film Festival. Keiichi wrote the score and, last night at the Uplink, performed that score live with guitar and G4 Powerbook. Keiichi used his electric guitar for melodic lines, harmonic swells, and rhythms (generated by engaging the guitar's pick-ups), all processed through Logic, I presume. (I had always wondered how he created that rhythmic effect when listening to his albums...) In addition, he was manipulating field recordings on the Powerbook that included children's voices and bicycle bells (what a beautiful sound!). As Tetsuro pointed out, the only thing we could have wished is that he had played LOUDER. He was almost too sensitive to the audience's needs. Miyazaki's film was simple and often mesmerizing. Lots of images of empty playgrounds and fields - hence, the melancholy effectiveness of Keiichi's field recordings.

How do I possibly begin to repay the kindness and hospitality shown to me by Keiichi and Tetsuro? Here I am a complete foreigner (Gai-jin) and they have opened the doors to their musical endeavors and friends and warmly welcomed me. I guess that in some fashion, I am helping their cause by acknowledging their work and making that work a primary focus for my research. But, I'd like to do more - perhaps more work with them? There is a feeling of community and cooperation among these artists that I find refreshing. Maybe, I'd like to be part of creating a scene like this in Boston. I wonder if it's possible?

If Minamo ever come to Boston, I must repay this kindness...

Tetsuro, Jun'ichiro, and Joni

2005-10-28T10:45:00.000-07:00

I awoke from a dream yesterday morning with the refrain of Joni Mitchell's "Free Man in Paris" running through my head:

"I was a free man in Paris,
I felt unfettered and alive..."

I know that any of my friends who might be into Jungian analysis will have a field day with that one. And - please - allow me to clearly state that in no way do I view my own lifestyle as being as harried or pressured as that of David Geffen (subject of the famous song)! However, my own feeling is that this refrain might have deeper personal layers for me than might be obvious. The city of Paris has long had a history as an artistic center (particularly in the 1920's). Perhaps my subconscious was making some references, projecting my own visions of the former Paris art scene onto current Tokyo. Make no mistake, I know this is a bit of a leap, but I have felt a sense of community among the electronic musicians I've been meeting. Last night, my conversation with Tetsuro Yasunaga, a founding member of Minamo, made me wish that I was going to be staying here in Tokyo - and be part of the "scene" - for at least a bit longer.

Testuro is one the laptop artists in Minamo (please see the previous post about their great show in Shibuya, dated October 14). He also provided me with one of the most enjoyable and thought provoking interviews I have yet conducted. He and Keiichi Sugimoto met many years ago via the internet on a site that featured some of their favorite bands. They exchanged emails and decided to set up a meeting. Following that a year later was their first attempt at playing music together, with Keiichi on guitar and Testuro on rhythm box. This was the humble beginning to a long collaboration and the formation of Minamo. Currently, Minamo is comprised of four members and has three albums under their belt. For quite some time, I had been wondering about the meaning of the name Minamo. Testuro told me that it literally translates to "surface of water," and he then drew the beautiful Kanji that depicts this name.

In discussing Minamo, he told me that the quartet tries to "avoid extreme feelings" - or musical extremes - when performing. This is a quality that I really love about the group. They always "simmer," they never boil, and this is what gives their music a quality of calmness at the center. As Testuro says, they are always "looking at the flow of the music" and sometimes changing that flow, gently. Although he formerly used Max MSP, he is now using Ableton Live (v.4.0) as his primary musical application. This is because his main sound sources are from samples of real instruments and field recordings.

The highlight of the interview came during the "trick question." I have been asking all of the artists I've interviewed if they are familiar with Jun'ichiro Tanizaki, the famed 20th century author who wrote a transcendent essay on Japanese tradition entitled, "In Praise of Shadows." Tanizaki is famous in Japan for many novels, but for any westerner who is interested in traditional Japanese culture, I highly recommend "In Praise of Shadows." I've encountered nothing else which conveys the Japan of, say, 150 years ago, in quite the persuasive manner of this short book. Therefore, my trick question has been: "What would Jun'ichiro Tanizaki think of your music?" (Tanizaki was such a traditionalist, he argued against the implementation of electricity, particularly lightbulbs, in Japan.) To my delight, Tetsuruo was not only familiar with Jun'ichiro Tanizaki, he had even read "In Praise of Shadows." He immediately brought up the concept of "Ma." (It is prounounced, "mah.") It may be very difficult for a westerner to understand, much less translate, the idea of Ma. Here's my go at it: Ma is the space in between... everything. For instance, in most traditional Japanese homes, there is an area at the entrance where one takes off their shoes, leaving the outside beyond the door before stepping inside. This is transitional space - the space in between. In its small way, this area might be an everyday physical respresentation of Ma. (Thanks to Takeshi for previously providing me with such an analogy.)

Tetsuro feels that Tanizaki would recognize the Japanese-ness of Minamo, despite their contemporary electronic sound. (I agree.) Perceptively, he feels that Tanizaki would recognize the "space in between," the factor of Ma in their music. As Testuro put it, "Even if other people see nothing, Japanese people will give meaning to the void. Japanese are accustomed to such a way of feeling."

So, to return to the top: my dear Joni - much of the following is from memory. If I've gotten any of it wrong, all apologies. Today, for me personally, the truth of these lyrics is in the "space in between."

"I was a free man in Paris,
I felt unfettered and alive.
There was nobody calling me up for favors,
and no one's future to decide.

You know I'd go back there tomorrow,
but for the work I've taken on,
stoking the star maker machinery,
behind the popular song."

Harumi

2005-10-25T21:07:00.000-07:00

Attended a great concert this evening. Harumi Mochizuki, a Japanese drummer, presented a concert of traditional music at Kioi Hall in Akasaka. She performed on taiko (the indigenous drum of Japan) and other traditional drums, including a fabulous hourglass shaped drum that I am going to be thinking about for the rest of my stay here (see the drum in the accompanying photo)!

The show opened with the curtain rising and soft light revealing six women, lined up stage right to left, seated on the floor and dressed in kimono. The kimono were all pastels: green, orange, and yellow, etc., combining to give this author the feeling of Spring ("Haru" in Japanese). There were four drummers (including Harumi), flute, and a vocalist. I don't know the meaning of the lyrics to the song, but it was full of the space, the darkness and light, and the patience that fills so much of the art from this place. It was beautiful. I was smiling with glee half of the time.

The highlight of the concert was a very modern feeling piece - it had to be contemporary as Harumi acknowledged the composer for bows at the conclusion - that featured six performers on shakuhachi, two kotos, a bamboo (?) mallet instrument (similar to Balinese Jegog) and Harumi on the aforementioned hourglass shaped drum. They sang - beautifully I might add - the refrain "Sakura" (cherry tree) from time to time. This had to be a reference to the famous Japanese traditional song, "Sakura, Sakura." It was so lovely, I was smiling and nodding in affirmation.

What a treat - what luck! - to be able to see such traditional music performances and use them as reference points for my research here. Make no mistake: some of the things I value in, say, a Minamo performance, I also find in these traditional music performances. I wonder if there is some long, slow, steady universal rhythm at work here... ?

Unami-san

2005-10-21T12:43:00.000-07:00

Taku Unami does some things with his G4 Powerbook that I've never considered. Like bowing it, for instance (Arco Laptop!). He'll also use the noise of the computer itself as fodder for sound by moving the 12" display around. (I'm now imagining readers of this post, heads placed between their laptop keyboard and display, both hands rocking the screen back and forth, back and forth... listening... )

Toshimaru Nakamura (AKA No-input Mixer) recommended that Takeshi and I get in touch with Taku. He thought that Taku's ideas and music would be of interest to this project. He was right. Taku is a most interesting musician, combining his laptop and compositional forays with running his own record label, Hibari Music. I had picked up his 2003 CD, performed on computer, entitled, "Intransigent Towards the Detectives of Capital." When I first put it on, I smiled: clear, rapid bursts of sound would be followed by long gaps, lots of space. The "sound bursts" were never jarring; they were actually quite beautiful and interesting. I thought that maybe he had used utensils and appliances from his kitchen to create his samples! It turns out that he has not yet visited his kitchen. However, as you can tell from the opening paragraph, he does have an open mind when it comes to considering audio sources.

We started the interview by discussing his use of space. Much of his music is improvised and he often uses a stopwatch in performances. "I can't play without a clock," he says, smiling. He notes that he may not know what he is going to do when he initiates the performance but, once he begins, he decides how long the sounds will play and, also, how long he will maintain space between his bursts. Here are some very interesting comments: "The meaning of sounds is changed by structure. The meaning of a sound changes (i.e., appears different) after 10 minutes of silence." Although he may have been over emphasizing to make his point (most of the spaces on "Intransigent" are closer to 10 seconds rather than 10 minutes of silence), I had to agree with him. Space can be one of the most simple and effective of tools for creating any musical structure. And, any sound will seem to be quite different, even new, if heard after a long silence as opposed to being heard within the context of constant repetition. As he adds, "I like it to be clear..." His musical process, if a bit unorthodox, is ultimately a study in clarity.

After these comments, I had to ask him if he had read John Cage's "Silence." He laughed, "I have a copy, but I have not yet opened it." I suggested that he check it out soon.

He started his musical ventures by playing guitar in junior high school ("I'm still basically a guitarist") but now tends to use the laptop. On the computer, his application of preference is Max MSP. He said that, originally, he was using his own patch created on Max, but now is using another patch that he really likes and enjoys. I had to ask him about running his own record label, Hibari Music. I find this very interesting because, personally, I feel that it can be difficult to wear two hats: artist and business man. "To run a record label is to lose money," he acknowledges. But, he then went on the describe what I thought was a very healthy approach. He said that he started his own label because he needed a vehicle to release his music, as well as a means to bring exposure to some of his musician friends. Then, he made an absolutely key point: "running a label is like a hobby." This resonated in me. There are many diverse hobbies around the world, be they collecting race cars, playing video games, and I would even guess that people still collect comics and baseball cards. Those who enjoy hobbies don't mind the investment of their money because it brings them joy! Thus, why shouldn't artists invest (and possibly lose) some of their money in a label if it brings joy to themselves and others? (Needless to say, if the label is successful and makes money, you get to enjoy your "hobby" and recoup your investment.)

URL for Hibari:
http://www.hibarimusic.com/

Interestingly, when I asked him about his personal listening habits and influences, Taku, Takeshi, and myself found an unexpected shared love: 1970's era King Crimson (the Fripp/Bruford/Muir/Wetton/Cross era). I can definitely hear a bit of Jamie Muir in his bursts of sound on "Intransigent." This King Crimson theme will be discussed further in a future post.

Another head turning, decks clearing interview with a very unique musical artist. Hope I can think straight when I return to Boston. On second thought, perhaps the purpose of this entire project is to ensure that never happens again...

Hiro's Wild Music

2005-10-20T11:05:00.000-07:00

The "Hiro" in the above title refers to the larger than life Hiro Tsunoda who runs the Wild Music School in Tokyo. If you are thinking Japan's "School of Rock," you are not far off in guessing the very special character of this facility. Yesterday, my friend from Pearl (parent company of U.S. Pearl Corporation, AKA Pearl Drums), Kazu Yoshizawa brought me to the Wild Music School to meet Hiro (seen in the bottom photo) and soak up his unique world.

I was not prepared for Hiro. The minute he walked into the lounge area of his school, his warmth, his energy, his SMILE brought the whole room to life. He's one of those people who will always wind up being the center of attention at any party he attends. This is as it should be: he's so funny and smart and entertaining that, pretty soon, your own smile is a large as his! Hiro seems to come by these qualities honestly and naturally. In addition to being a very busy drummer, he's a TV personality in Japan. As Kazu explained, he is frequently featured as a host on a sort of "Best of Tokyo" show. On the program he'll take you to, say, the coolest traditional Japanese restaurant, the best kept secret in Korean barbeque, or simply the finest barbershop in a particular neighborhood. He's also a singer and - according to Kazu - had a number one hit in Japan many years ago with a song called, "Mary Jane on my Mind." [The author need comment no further. :) ] As such, Hiro is frequently recognized in Tokyo, being asked for autographs, photos, etc.

Hiro always had a strong desire to teach music and opened a drum school several years ago. The popularity and effectiveness of this drum school grew to the point that Hiro needed to expand and open a facility that taught basic rhythm section instruments (drums, bass, guitar, keys, etc.). He realized his dream in May of this year with the Wild Music School. Hiro owns an entire building that houses a recording studio in the basement (see middle photo), practice rooms for students (the drummer in the top photo is a young lady from Kyoto who travels to "WM" once a month for lessons and study), ensemble rooms, offices, and a living area for Hiro and his family. If there is any such thing as a musician's dream house in Tokyo, Hiro and his family have it. He has also hired several Berklee Japanese alumni to teach at the school and is now offering music theory and computer music study, in addition to lessons on the basic rhythm section instruments. If this school continues to grow, it will be a music education force to be reckoned with in Tokyo.

I had a truly wonderful evening with Hiro and his family, staff, and students. As has been the case before on this trip, I'm hoping to go back and visit once more before returning to Boston.

My thanks to Kazu...

Studio Tokyo

2005-10-18T15:51:00.000-07:00

My friend Rob Jaczko, from Berklee's MP&E Dept., sent me an email with a PDF of Mix Magazine's next cover: it's Berklee Studio A! Man, it looks so cool. I hope that I can find an issue here in Tokyo. I won't even care if it is a Japanese language edition. I thought that I would try to tempt Mix Magazine with this picture of my studio in Tokyo. I'm sure they'll want to feature it for their first issue of 2006. :)

Last year, I was recruited to teach M-Tech 111, Berklee's required technology course for entering freshman. Because I was teaching this class for the first time, I kept track of any thoughts or ideas which came to mind over the course of the fall semester. My thinking was that I would never be able to approach the course as fresh and naive as that first semester. Any thought or idea might present some new perspective to the students, or even my colleagues. Much of the experience of teaching that class - and many of the issues that I had regarding the course - came down to logistics, of course. M-Tech 111 teaches students how to use hardware and software music tools, so sometimes there are headaches and trainwrecks. (To be honest, often these "headaches and trainwrecks" existed only the mind of the author.) But that class made me really consider what a laptop means to a musician: it's your recording studio.

If any of my students from that class are checking this blog, I want them to know that the laptop is not only your studio, but you can take it with you anywhere in the world. It's not a lot of fun setting up Studio Tokyo everyday and then having to break it down. The limited space of my apartment requires the set up and break down. But, at least the equipment, particularly the laptop, is portable. Yes, I'm spoiled by having a very modest home studio area in Boston - a place where I can just walk in everyday, turn on the lights, power up and go to work. I'll accept the "connection" time here in Japan, however, for the sheer good fortune of living in a period where you can take this stuff with you everywhere. Like many people in Tokyo, and the world over, I'm using this powerful, portable gear to be a Bedroom Beatle (Living Room Beatle if we must be specific).

I saw Jonathan Caouette, the director of 2004's indie film hit, "Tarnation," give a talk at the Coolidge Corner Theater last November. He was talking about making the entire film in iMovie (on an iMac, I believe) and the response to it. He said something to the effect of, "We live in a time where there really are no more excuses." In other words, if you want to make that movie, just go do it! The tools are there.

So, I say the same: just go make that movie, that album, that website, that video promo. If you've got your laptop, you've got your studio. We, the Brotherhood of the Bedroom Beatles await your next project...

Congratulations, Rob and the Berklee Technology Division!

Things to Love About Japan, Part 1

2005-10-15T17:54:00.000-07:00

This morning, after seeing Ginny off to Narita Airport via the Airport Limo Bus, I walked to Starbucks. As mentioned before, Starbucks is indeed a presence in Tokyo. I ordered a coffee and scone for "take out" and the employee dutifully saw to my request. When I returned to my apartment, I opened the Starbucks paper bag he had given me and I, well, marveled. At the bottom of the bag was a two drink carry tray made of recycled paper. It had been engineered to fit perfectly into the paper bag. Inside one of the drink reservoirs was my coffee. It was secure inside the bag for my entire walk. Fitted into its tiny hole for sipping was a thin stirring stick. This stick also was fitted to slip perfectly into the sipping hole, capping it completely. Thus, barely a drop of coffee spilled during my nearly one mile walk back to the apartment. It was also obvious that the Starbucks employee had used care for the entire preparation and presentation of my order.

Such thoughtfulness is everywhere in Japan. From the way purchases in stores are carefully packaged to the way store employees greet (and sometimes bow!) to each customer who enters a store, the formal expression of respect is all around. I thought I would take a moment to write down a few of the things I love about Japan.

1. Public Transportation: Trains, subways, and buses are everywhere. From any point in Tokyo, there is generally less than, say, a quarter mile walk to some form of public transportation. You absolutely do not need a car in Tokyo.

2. Bikes and walking: As most people do not routinely use a car (even though they may own one), they walk or ride bikes whenever possible. (It is rare in the extreme to see someone who is overweight in Japan.)

3. Security: As I mentioned in a previous post, Japan is very safe. Of course, like everywhere, there is crime. But, it is hardly omnipresent and most people go through the day with no serious concern regarding their safety. On Friday, I was walking by a convenience store and I watched a woman ride her bike up to the storefront, engage the kick stand, and walk into the store leaving the bike unlocked! Although I do see some bikes that are equipped with locks, it's not uncommon to witness a display like the one described here. That woman knew her bike would be in that same spot when she came out of the store.

4. Kindness: Japan has the most courteous people I've ever encountered. Demonstrating respect and kindness is considered to be of the utmost importance. This does not mean that people are walking up to you on the street, smiling and shaking your hand. It's actually just the opposite. Japanese society is determinedly non-confrontational. On the street, on crowded trains or subways, folks usually avert their eyes, avoiding direct eye contact. Some foreigners interpret this as an unfriendly gesture. This is not true. The Japanese believe in "indirectness" so as not to potentially offend anyone. And, if any person should ever doubt the kindness of Japanese, just visit someone's home - or step into a cafe - and often you will be treated as though the most important family relative just walked in. The second photo from the top of this post was taken at the Iceberg Cafe, near Yutenji station. Ginny and I went there last week at the invitation of Takeshi and Lena. The owner and his mother (both behind the counter in the photo) treated us like their best customers. (Hmmm.... when was the last time that happened to me in a Dunkin' Donuts in Boston... ?)

5. Signs: Great signs and billboards, be they neon, video projections or old fashioned. They can be hilarious when in Roomaji (Japanese usage of the English alphabet). Or, just stunning when using Kanji (Japanese adaptation of the Chinese alphabet) and Katakana (Japanese alphabet for adapted foreign words). Ginny took the photo of the "Freshness Burger" restaurant just down the street from my apartment.

This list will be continued later. There's just too much for one post. I guess I should also make a point of documenting some of the difficult aspects of staying in Japan because, to be completely fair, Japan is far from perfect or ideal. However, there are far worse places one could spend six or seven weeks...

Minamo Live

2005-10-14T19:10:00.000-07:00

"It was the most organic live electronic music performance I've ever heard," said Ginny. I may have to agree. We went to the "O-Nest" (famous club venue in Shibuya) last night to see and hear Minamo, one of the electronic projects of which Keiichi Sugimoto is a member. The lighting for the show was wonderfully atmospheric and therefore making clear camera shots a bit difficult! But, the photo to the left accurately captures the feeling of the performance, I believe.

The band utilized a very cool stage set-up. From stage left to right, the viewer saw a seated acoustic guitarist (Yuichiro Iwashita), and then three musicans seated at G4 Powerbooks and facing the audience (Keiichi, Namiko Sasamoto, and Tetsuro Yasunaga). At the conclusion of the show, I also saw that Namiko had been playing a keyboard. The lighting, as mentioned above, was set very low, so each of the laptop musicians had glowing faces from the screen reflection of their laptops. Who needs an expensive light rig to create a vibe?! :)

Their music is modern and pastoral. The show started with gentle acoustic guitar strums and quiet beeps and gurgles from the laptops. They played two long pieces where this texture of laptop machine noise and acoustic guitar developed, enveloped, throbbed, evolved and resolved. It was simply beautiful (which, it so happens, is the title of their 2003 CD on the Apestaartje label) and a good deal of it was improvised.

As they played, I tried to figure out the relationship and roles of the musicians and instruments. I made two guesses: 1) each band member was processing the acoustic guitar strums and then manipulating that sound in some fashion; 2) the laptops were not synced to any single timecode or clock. As it turns out I was 1 out of 2. After the show, Keiichi explained that it was only his role to process and manipulate the acoustic guitar, while Namiko and Tetsuro were using different applications and sounds. However, he confirmed that they perform without their laptops synced. Thus, the one time I heard a definitive groove develop, it was simply a single laptop member implying a rhythm (sort of like a conventional drummer would do, but without the drum samples).

Keiichi introduced me to Namiko and Tetsuro after the show. They were so nice and sweet (much like Keiichi). When I asked them about their process in live performance, Tetsuro replied, "We're just emailing friends!" Big laughs.

Great show. The only laptop performance which I've witnessed that came close to matching the utterly musical quality of Minamo was a performance by Fennesz at MIT last year. But, I have to say that Minamo may be working at an even deeper level. Can't wait to see Keiichi's solo performance at the Uplink Gallery in two weeks.

Two CD's you should check out:
Minamo: "Beautiful" (Apestaartje label, 2003)
Minamo: "Shining" (12k label, 2005)

Thanks to Ginny for the photo...

Noguchi

2005-10-14T14:34:00.000-07:00

Isamu Noguchi was a Japanese-American sculptor and designer who was, in the words of the Japan Times, "probably the most consistently innovative and influential sculptor of the 20th century." Even if you're thinking that you've never heard of him, chances are you have at the least seen his furniture designs: coffee tables and "Akari" lights that evoke meaning and functionality from the simplest of shapes. He passed away in 1988 at the age of 84. Tokyo's MOT (Museum of Modern Art Tokyo) is currently presenting an exhibition of many of his works, particularly his sculptures. Yesterday, Ginny, Takeshi, and myself trekked via the Hanzoman line to Kiba park - home to MOT - in order to take it in.

As we walked into the exhibition, the first thought that occurred to me was that he always used such simple shapes and forms. Circles, semi-circles, straight (and not so straight) lines and pentagons are presented in a myriad of unique ways and combinations that simply delight and/or knock you for a loop. I noticed that his life span was 1904-1988. As he spent time in New York and Paris, as well as Japan, he was a contemporary of Georgia O'Keeffe and Edward Hopper - two of my favorite artists. I could not help but compare his earliest pieces with the early works of Georgia O'Keeffe (particularly her Texas period). In each case, the artist discovered a mode of expression in the simple forms of nature and then went on to evolve these "signature" forms into a long and influential artistic life.

Noguchi was fond of public sculpture as he felt the finished artwork included the space and environment in which it was presented. He created Yale University's sunken gardens, New York City's Chase Manhattan Bank Plaza, and many, many more public spaces. Perhaps his greatest work is Moera Park in Sapporo. This posthumous realization (the plans were created before his death) is a city park that is, essentially, a gigantic, green playground. It opened on July 1st of this year and left me thinking that it might be worth the plane ticket to fly up to Sapporo and spend a day in that park.

The exhibition concluded with his famous "Energy Void" sculpture (see the poster in the photo, second from top) which was sitting in a huge, sunlit room. It was sublime. Then, the exhibition provided a cool coda. The courtyard directly outside the "Energy Void" room was outfitted with some of his playground sculptures. Go see the exhibition and then go outside and... PLAY! Noguchi would have loved it. The top picture of this post is a shot of Takeshi climbing atop one of Noguchi's sculpted jungle gyms (description is the author's - not Noguchi's).

We left MOT inspired. So much so that I intend to leave time to go back - and take it in a second time - before returning to Boston...

Ginny-san Arrives and Takes on Tokyo!

2005-10-10T20:48:00.000-07:00

Ginny arrived on Sunday evening, jet-lagged but happy. What a shock it was to be talking English all the time to an English speaking native! (My m.o. in Tokyo has been a sort of half English/half Japanese blend.) We decided to take a quick jaunt to Shibuya. We walked out of the J. R. train station and stepped into the Hachiko intersection: it is really a sea of everything Tokyo. I took these two photos as Ginny stepped into that sea. It was an almost overwhelming experience, considering her fatigue, but we both enjoyed it and really liked these two photographs.

Ginny has immediately pointed some of the subtle, but striking differences between the U.S. and Japan. One of these is the sight of young Japanese children, say, ages 6, 7 or 8, walking by themselves, completely safe and secure on busy city streets. It's interesting; I had actually intended to mention this in an earlier blog. You see it all the time: at the start and end of the school day, first and second graders step out onto the streets and walk happily alone, going to or coming from school. They are in no danger. Japan is exceedingly safe and the children learn confidence, comportment, and a sense of security at a very young age. This scene is actually very moving. And, it almost makes me ashamed of the sense of everyday suspicion and fear that lurks beneath the surface in the U.S. I guess the questions are: 1) should we really be so fearful in the U.S.? or, 2) have we simply been pushed into these defensive positions by the "Fox Sports Network media mentality" (i.e., jarring and sensational reporting) that pervades all of the news and information we get?

Moving into phase two of this project: starting a new round of correspondence in an effort to set up more interviews and meetings in the second half of October...

AKA No-Input Mixer

2005-10-08T13:45:00.000-07:00

To say that I was excited to interview Toshimaru Nakamura would be an understatement. When the Japan Foundation grant opportunity came about, meeting him was one of the first things that I considered. I was thrilled when, upon contacting him over the past summer, he agreed to meet with me while in Japan. I woke up yesterday morning excited about our 3pm interview.

Nakamura-san began his music exploits years ago by playing guitar, apparently a common theme among the Japanese musicians I have met. He then gravitated to sound and mix engineering and even worked for a while as a concert sound engineer. However, he reached a period of frustration with the stock career path of such a trade. My feeling is that working in what is primarily a service industry was at odds with the unique artist that was waiting inside. For the sake of brevity in this post, I will cut to the chase: he began manipulating feedback that he would create at the mixing board (plugging the board's outputs into its inputs, then "push a switch and feedback happens") and conjuring up some of the most beautiful, otherworldly music you have ever heard. As he pointed out, smiling, in the engineering world, "Feedback is forbidden as a professional." He has created a distinctive artistic career by honoring the error, doing things which the mixing console manual says you should not do.

I first heard his No-Input Mixing Board 2 CD (label: A Bruit Secret) in 2002. It immediately became a musical benchmark for me, a CD that I return to now, and again. It's highly recommended. He has released a number of other CD's on various labels and is very busy now as a composer and live music performer. He spent much of this past summer in Berlin, composing music and then performing it with a dance company.

He loves making music with his instrument. He feels that he has a different relationship with the mixing board than he once had with the guitar. On the guitar, the instrumentalist must start the process by striking a string. With the mixing board he sees himself as "setting up the environment... all I do is preparation - the music is played by the machine. I just guide the music." These comments figure into his explanation of the concept of "Mu-ishiki" : without consciousness. When making music, he says, "I'm trying to be honest, neutral. I want to be myself and accept what happens to me (when listening to and manipulating the feedback)."

One thing that seems to connect the musicians I've talked with - from Takeshi to Toshimaru, from Keiichi to Taku, is something of an artistic crossroads in their past. A time when they acknowledged a frustration with the generic vocabulary of an instrument - be it a drumset, guitar, or mixing console - and then made a decision to reject that vocabulary and try to develop their own. In fact, it's not even that it was so much a choice; they felt compelled to make such a change. So, Keiichi plugs his guitar into his laptop, Takeshi develops a dual (video and audio) laptop set-up, Taku quits guitar for two years to learn cello (and then comes back!), Toshimaru decides that professional mixing and recording is not his calling and then starts creating and manipulating feedback at the mixing board.

In each case, they leapt - and found that the ravine was not as wide as they thought. And they discovered a place where they possessed an original voice. A place where their limitations were now, in Brian Eno's words, "secret strengths."

And you know what? If they had not taken that leap, I would not be here in Japan today, testing these cool, electric waters, drinking in this beautiful music, connecting with these wonderful human beings.

Don't be afraid to leap...

Armin, Takeshi, and "Taku Part 2"

2005-10-07T13:00:00.000-07:00

The picture accompanying this post shows, left to right, Armin Linzbichler (a former student), myself and Takeshi. This photo was taken in Shibuya last week.

In an effort to keep this blog concise (i.e., readable) I've made an attempt at keeping each post focused on a theme. I've also chosen to not post every single day. Thus, as you would expect, things happen in the course of a week's events that do not get addressed or written about here. This post details with one such event. It has stuck with me over the last week, so I'm taking that as a cue: "it" - the event - wants exposure, wants to be detailed in words.

At the end of my interview with Taku Sugimoto, I asked him if he had any questions for me. I've been doing this with almost everyone I meet and speak with. The purpose of this is to emphasize that I am not a journalist; my agenda is research and discovery as opposed to a deadline for a magazine article. Taku looked at me and said, "Why do you teach?" The question caught me off guard. It was an honest question - he seemed genuinely interested.

I started trying to explain, but in some ways was only coming up with stock answers. I wasn't getting to the truth about my experience as a teacher, particularly at Berklee. I tend to not like cliched or umbrella statements about teaching; for instance, "I do it because I love it." There are many times that I do love teaching. Frankly, there are also times where teaching feels like pushing a boulder up a hill on a rainy day in muddy boots. This can be particularly true at Berklee where we have many students and they have huge course loads. We set them into motion with these course loads and then faculty and staff must match the effort, energy, and occasional confusion that ensues. I also feel strange about the stock response, "Because I'm good at it." Again, there are times where I take great satisfaction in doing what I hope is a very good job. And, again, frankly, there are times when I just know that I've missed the mark, said the wrong thing, bumbled, or just plain had a bad day. It's difficult to come up with black or white responses to a question such as Taku's. Over a long career of teaching, you often find that the truth is really in the middle. The truth is neither black nor white and it resists soundbite attempts at explanation.

So, in an effort to best convey the truth of my personal teaching experience, I told him about Armin. Armin is a former student of mine at Berklee during the early to mid 90's. His father is European, his mother is Japanese, he speaks about three languages fluently and he was not only a good drum student, but also possessed of a very good sense of humor. Last week, Takeshi and I had gone to the Yamaha music store in Shibuya and, of course, went into the drum shop. While there, I heard someone behind me walk up to Takeshi and say, "Is that Steve Wilkes?" Followed by, "Hey, you're Takeshi!" I turned around, "Steve, it's me Armin!" The three of us were so surprised. Armin had been a student in my Studio Drumming class and he and Takeshi had known each other in Berklee. It was a great moment. We stood around laughing, talking and, yes, taking photographs. It turns out that Armin is having a very successful career as a drummer in Japan. He looked great and he just radiated happiness. It was so fulfilling to see him doing well.

Teaching is neither about music, specific material, or any particular course. Teaching is about people. It's really that simple. If you can successfully interact with people - interact with them respectfully, generously, and kindly - you will open a loop. And, unlike a four measure loop or 16 measure repeating phrase, you never know when it's going to come back around. But, come back around it will. And the results can absolutely amaze you. It may be that I had a little bit to do with Armin's current success, but certainly no more so than the rest of my colleagues in Berklee's Percussion department, or other departments for that matter. If we successfully interacted with Armin - the person, Takeshi - the human being, we may have contributed to the people and musicians they are today. Berklee take note: fraternization is, ultimately, what it's all about.

Taku just nodded his head and smiled. Then he said, "I would like to teach something." What, I asked. "I don't know - not music - but something." He would be a most interesting teacher. He might have a lot of future Armins...

Aimee Mann's in Town and so is the Colonel!

2005-10-05T10:52:00.000-07:00

Neither Aimee Mann nor Colonel Sanders are Japanese electronic music artists. Nonetheless, I encountered both of them last night in Tokyo. I came across the Colonel while walking through Ebisu, the Tokyo neighborhood that is home to the Liquid Room - a nice music venue that features a broad range of artists. Aimee Mann and her band were performing at the Liquid Room on the second evening of a two night stand.

First, I want to say a nice word or two about concerts in Japan. Most shows start right at 7:00pm. Sharp. This means one can go see a two hour concert and still be home by 9:30. Sane. Of course, one could also go out to another club and hear yet more music. The choice is yours. But, the end result is the same: the show is completed at a reasonable hour and then you still have something of the evening left to enjoy. I've toured Japan several times and really enjoyed this schedule as a performer. I can now say that I enjoy it just as much as a fan and concert attendee.

Aimee Mann actually hit the stage at the Liquid Room at 7:15. I was still more than willing to let the apparent lapse go when compared to start times I've experienced at concerts in Boston; like at the Paradise or Orpheum, for instance. She started with material from her new album, "The Forgotten Arm," and then proceeded to touch on much of her catalog. It was when she arrived at the material from the film soundtrack to Magnolia, however, that the show really started to hit me. Aimee provided the bulk of the material to that soundtrack - about eight songs I believe - and I have to say that it's my favorite Aimee Mann "album." Maybe it's the manner in which Jon Brion's production cast her music - surrounded and influenced by 70's groups like ELO and Supertramp. Or, maybe it's just the manner in which Aimee's songs capture the feeling of the movie's loosely connected characters. The end result is a collection of songs which absolutely hit pay dirt. Go out and buy the DVD of this movie and the soundtrack now! :) Once she played songs like "Driving Sideways," the show gathered steam and provided this viewer with a bit of American pop home cooking. Thank you, Aimee. The Colonel could not have done it better!

The band was quite good. Especially drummer John Sands who was superb on every song. It was thanks to John that I was able to attend the show. Jamie Edwards, my friend and musical partner from Boston, works with John on another project. He told John that I was in Tokyo and Mr. Sands kindly offered to place me on the guest list. I tried to find John both before and after the show to no avail. However, I'll use this posting to offer my gratitude to both he and Jamie.

A thought from before the show. As the crowd waited for the band to begin, the pre-show music was featuring songs from the late 60's into the 70's. It was fitting warm up music for this particular show. Neil Young's "Old Man" began and played over the house PA. Wow. As it played, I considered its implications for me. Here I am, a garage drummer by training, but living in Japan in order to study (what I believe to be) the cutting edge music of the Japanese laptop and electronic scene. Yet, as "Old Man" played, in all of it's rough, acoustic beauty, I had to consider if I've heard anything recently as warm, as organic... as whole. Hmmm... Maybe - yet maybe not. I need to keep it at the back of my mind. Refer to it occasionally for the sake of reference, for the sake of honesty. Thank you, Neil.

Oh yeah - And thank you, Colonel!

Pictures From A Friend's Exhibition

2005-10-04T10:50:00.000-07:00

On Monday evening, I went to a gallery in Tamachi to attend the opening night of a new exhibition. My friend Shizuo Harada was one of the exhibitors. He had invited me a couple of weeks ago and I did not know what to expect. To my surprise, he paints in watercolors. I truly do not know where he finds the time.

As mentioned in a previous posting, Shizuo is an architect and designed the wonderful Global Loop for the 2005 World Expo. He has also designed concert and recital halls (I performed at the opening of one in Aomori Prefecture several years ago), numerous buildings, and created a fantastic submission for the World Trade Center Site Memorial Competition. To see it, check out this URL:

http://www.wtcsitememorial.org/ent/entI=656238.html

He designs spaces with the future in sight, but always with an eye to the practical. His Global Loop upped the ante, however, as it was one of the most beautiful realizations of a design - a vision - that I have seen in this or any other year.

Last night's opening party was the start of an exhibition of art works by architects. All of the artists were Japanese and - yes - architects. As I walked through the gallery, I thought that such an exhibition makes so much sense. Architecture is, after all, visual design rendered in nuts and bolts, brick and mortar 3D. I would assume that all architects have some capability for drawing and sketching and might therefore harbor hidden talents in the visual arts. The works ran the gamut from fully realized sketches of previous architecture projects to urban landscapes. One such landscape caught my eye. From a distance, one of the buildings in the painting looked like something from Edward Hopper's "7am." Upon looking more closely, the painting did indeed contain a Hopper-esque store front, although it was standing next to two decidedly Japanese residences. I liked this unusual (at least to me) juxtaposition. Here's an idea for a future painter: create works that combine vernacular architecture (residential architecture) from around the globe. The Global Hopper!

I recognized the source of one of Shizuo's paintings as it was based on a photo of the Global Loop (see top of the page). Interestingly, he has just published a book of his early sketches of the Global Loop combined with photos of the final realization. I will try to get information regarding any availability of this book and provide more info in a future posting...

Taku

2005-10-01T10:45:00.000-07:00

Taku Sugimoto may be one of the most authentic musicians I have ever met. Hanging out with him last night, at a no-name bar in Shimo-kitazawa (the bar really has no name or title), I got the feeling that he is incapable of playing a single insincere note on his guitar. In fact, some of his performances in recent years are known for long silences and spaces as he waits for the right moment to play a note. We're talking John Cage "long silences," here.

I found out about Taku via the Erstwhile box set. A couple of years ago, Erstwhile records released a 7 CD + DVD set of a 2002 music event it presented in Japan. Entitled "Amplify 2002: Balance," the box set is an exhaustive document of the performances of contemporary Japanese and European avant and electronic musicians in Tokyo during October '02. It's not for the weak eared. Much of the music is challenging. But it's also stimulating, eye (ear) opening, and rewarding. The DVD in the set contains a film that was made about the event, called "Balance Beams." The DVD alone makes seeking out the box set worthwhile.

Taku is one of the musicians featured on "Amplify 2002: Balance" and he also contributed to the liner notes. I found his notes very humorous and insightful. He writes quite well in English. Perhaps this is due to the fact that he enjoys reading books on philosophy IN ENGLISH. If English is your native tongue and you've ever tried to learn Japanese, or vice versa, you will know what a feat of mental dexterity this is. (Last night, he was reading Hilary Putnam's "The Collapse of the Fact/Value Dichotomy.") His liner notes, as well as his music, were imbued with ideas from Cage, Cornelius Cardew, as well as his own disdain for musical "trendiness" or insincerity. I read the liner notes and wanted to meet him.

This desire was further fueled by a Wire magazine review of his recent CD, "Live in Australia." This live document, which I have not yet heard, apparently features only a handful of notes spread out over the entire live performance - much to the chagrin of audience members.

Taku on a recent Australian performance: "At the start of the concert, there were 78 audience members. By the end of the performance, there were only three. But one audience member stayed and really enjoyed it. I was happy."

I told him about the Pro Musica Nipponia concert I attended last Tuesday. I said that I felt there was a similarity in the intrinsic use of space in traditional Japanese music/instrumentation and his own music. Taku sees the connection, also: "After all, I am Japanese." We both smiled.

The no-name bar provided great ambiance for our hang. The owner played CD's by Eric Dolphy, Bobby Hutcherson, and Joshua Redman, while the small group at the bar listened appreciatively. No one seemed to mind when Taku and I would suddenly become animated in our discussion. It was nice to talk intensely and then drift back into the music. During our conversation, we seemed to hit it off when agreeing that, currently, we are probably the only two people in Tokyo without a cellphone. :) (Tokyo feels like central HQ for cellphone culture.)

I hope to see Taku again. It's rare to be in the presence of such musical honesty.

Oh yeah - as I exited the no-name bar, I hit my head on the door. Really. After everyone at the bar was certain I was OK, we all smiled and laughed. Bumbling ever onward...

Conversation, Coffee, Headphones, Laptop

2005-09-30T09:10:00.000-07:00

On a lovely autumn afternoon, I met Takeshi and Keiichi Sugimoto in Shibuya for a talk about music. Formally, it was an interview of Sugimoto-san as part of my grant pursuits. Takeshi came along to provide excellent translation services. What followed was a relaxed two hour conversation on all things electronic music at Jordi cafe. (In the picture that accompanies this post, that's Keiichi to the left and Takeshi on the right.)

Keiichi Sugimoto has experienced a significant degree of success working as an electronic music artist. He has released CD's under the names Fonica and Minamo (these are collaborative projects with other musicians) and Fourcolor and FilFla (solo projects). His CD's have been released on a wide variety of labels - labels whose base of operations can be found in Japan, Europe, and the US. (See a complete listing below.) He has traveled to the US three times - most recently in the spring of this year - and has performed in New York city, Chicago, Philadelphia, etc.

Although he started playing guitar in high school, he has no formal training on the instrument. His tools of choice are simple: a guitar, a Mac G4 laptop (he said he just bought one of the new models), and an old version of Logic. To the surprise of Takeshi and myself, he doesn't use any synth plug-ins or hosted programs, such as Reason or the Native Instruments line. It's all about recording the guitar into Logic and then arranging, editing, and processing until he has the finished product. That finished product is alternately minimal, meditative, playful, and always so musical.

There are a couple of interesting and important lessons in his creative process. The first lesson is: simple tools. He neither owns, nor tries to own every new software application that arrives on the market. He knows his three tools well: guitar, laptop, and Logic. He continues to get good results from them. The second lesson is: input. He doesn't rely on the hundreds of presets found in, say, Reason or Atmosphere. He uses his guitar as the sonic input device and works from there to create a very distinctive, individual sound. I'm not against presets. I think they have their place, they can solve a musical problem or two, and can be important for the young students at Berklee who may be learning music technology for the first time. Ultimately, however, in electronic music your choice of input will become your voice, your sound. Thus, the more unique the input, the more individual the sound.

Such a nice guy. His demeanor could not have been more humble and kind. Takeshi and I were both very impressed with him. Keiichi sweetly seems to work from no doctrine: "I just want to enjoy music!" And, he feels that meeting new people and friends through his work in music (at this point, he gives a "for instance..." gesture of the hand to Takeshi and I, acknowledging that we met today because of music ) is the greatest reward. Amen.

Keiichi Sugimoto CD list:

Fonica - "Ripple" Label: Plop (Japan)
Minamo - "Shining" Label: 12k (US)
Fourcolor - "Watermirror" Label: Apestaartje (Europe)
FilFla - "Frame" Label: Plop (Japan)

(Note: for those who may be reading this from Boston, I have found Fonica and Fourcolor in Newbury Comics. The rest can probably be found, or ordered, at Twisted Village in Harvard Sq.)

The Bedroom Beatles

2005-09-28T09:55:00.000-07:00

Attended a concert last night at Tsuda Hall in Sendagaya. The concert was a performance by the Pro Musica Nipponia, an ensemble devoted to traditional Japanese instruments. However, the theme of the concert was new works by Jooji Yuasa and Noriko Hisada. Thus, the lovely sound of koto, shakuhachi flute, sho, etc., was steeped in the harmonic language of, say, the film scores of Toru Takemitsu or Morton Feldman's "Piano and String Quartet." I really enjoyed it. The opening piece, "Empty Sky," was particularly beautiful: a duo for koto and shakuhachi. I loved the S P A C E in the music, the long pauses between phrases. However, by the end of the first half, I was longing for some of the traditional pentatonic scales and harmonic gravity that one generally hears from Japanese folk music and instruments. I guess that I'm still too much of a pop musician at heart.

I spent the afternoon in Shinjuku at Cafe L'Ambre with my friend Takeshi from Himawari. According to Takeshi, Cafe L'Ambre is a coffee house built shortly after World War II. Its interior is weird. It's sort of like a traditional Japanese tea house filtered through the western restaurant design of a mid-twentieth century Howard Johnson's! Takeshi likes it because it does not feel like a Starbucks or Tully's (which are all over Tokyo, by the way).

Takeshi is going to be helping me with some of the translation duties for artist interviews. My first interview is coming up on Thursday and we wanted to spend some time brainstorming a game plan. Takeshi was so interesting when talking about the contemporary Japanese electronic music scene. Like me, he feels that this is an area where Japan is not simply responding to trends but instead is helping to lead the trends. Although he really enjoys much of it, he's also pragmatic about what he hears and sees. Two of the pitfalls that he perceives among young Macintosh musicians are weak "folktronica" and, in a few cases, a decided lack of musical fundamentals. Regarding the former, "folktronica" is a niche of laptop music that often includes vocals and acoustic instruments. Takeshi thinks that this music is born of the bedroom studio and thus explains why so much of the singing is soft and whispery. He wants to hear singers in this idiom stop whispering and SING! (BTW: personally, I'm a fan of close mic techniques and soft singing.) On the latter, Takeshi thinks that there are some incredible musicians at work in Japanese electronic music. He also feels that there are a few who simply buy a Macintosh, put together some loops and think that they are having a musical career. His funny observation: "They've missed 400 years of musical history and development! I mean, they should stop what they're doing and go listen to Queen!" :)

A nice day of musical ideas and listening. Interesting to consider the future styles of music -which are being created as I write this- that will come into being due to the fact that the Macintosh has turned the bedroom into a recording studio. We're living in the age of the bedroom Beatles...

The Value of Chaos

2005-09-26T18:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I headed to Akihabara in search of a voltage converter for my electronic music gear. Akihabara is known as Tokyo's "Electric Town." There is no place on earth where the lure of electronic gadgets is so intoxicating. Best Buy: you are not worthy! Even though I did not need one, all of the colorful cables in this cable bin made me want to buy one! I resisted the urge.

Bumbling about. This is what I have been doing quite of bit of. So much, in fact, that I've started thinking a great deal about, well, bumbling about. For instance, yesterday I smashed my left knee into the corner of a concrete wall. I was walking and took the corner too tightly: bam! It's OK - just some scratches and bruises. My American body, which is so accustomed to broad streets, sidewalks, and stairways, always has to remember to adjust to the contours of a city that has no square footage to spare.

And then, there's my Japanese. I have been studying in Boston for the last year and a half. I've definitely made progress. For example, I can now go into grocery stores and read something in the Katakana alphabet which translates to "Special Blend" on coffee packages! However, I'll then follow this apparent breakthrough with a halting, bumbling, embarrassing attempt at the cashier's counter to ask, in Japanese, if the store carries rice cookers. Thank God the Japanese are so sweet and patient with this flawed westerner.

I caught a cold last week. On a train ride on Saturday night, I started to have a coughing fit. My eyes were watering as I attempted to suppress the coughs until I could get off the train. I felt like that "sore thumb." The train arrived in Shibuya and I hurried off to find a corner where I could clear my throat and muster some composure. I don't stride... I bumble.

I came across this quote on music, by Brian Eno: "Any music worth anything is born in clumsiness and chaos... " I believe that there is so much truth in this statement. How many great pieces of music have been born in uncertainty, ignorance, chaos? I think of the early Beatles, Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis at Sun Studios, Miles Davis in his Bitches Brew era. (Perhaps even some of the electronic music that is pushing laptop boundaries which I am here to investigate?) It's all music being born out of chaos. Afterwards, of course, that chaos becomes the rule book.

So, I comfort myself with this thought: where there is chaos, there is life. Now, excuse me while I go smash into something...

Tokyo Clubbing

2005-09-24T18:03:00.000-07:00

Typhoon Ju-nana (17) is off the east coast of Japan and bringing rains and high winds to Tokyo. Attempting to publish my first photo with this post, a view of the typhoon induced Tokyo skyline...

Tokyo Clubbing ...which is to say, I went to one club in Tokyo last night...

Lush is a small basement club found in the backstreets of Shibuya, a district of Tokyo famous for music, stores, shopping, chic-ness. It also has a traffic intersection near the train station that has been filmed and photographed time and time again. This intersection ( adjacent to the Hachiko entrance of the train station) is usually teeming with people, is surrounded by electronic billboards and, chances are, if you've ever seen Blade Runner-esque footage of Tokyo, it's the Hachiko/train station intersection.

I had heard about Lush previously. It's known, apparently, for hosting cool, local and international electronic/avant/original music. Here's the URL:

http://www.toos.co.jp/lush/

Click on the "Schedule" button on the home page and you'll get an idea of the wide range of music performed at the club.

My reason for heading to Lush was to see Himawari. Himawari are a duo: Lena and Takeshi Ichikawa. Lena is the vocalist and Takeshi manipulates video images and music via a dual G4 laptop set-up. Before coming to Japan, I had contacted six artists, requesting interviews. To my delight, all but one replied affirmatively to the requests. With Himawari, however, I had an "in." Takeshi is one of my five partners in Six Drumsets. He and Lena had recently moved from New York back to Tokyo. Last night's performance was the CD release show for their new CD, Pomposo, on the Rematter record label. It is being distributed internationally, I believe.

Stage set-up: Takeshi, stage left, with dual laptops set up in a V. At the back of the stage, a large-ish video screen, displaying his video creations. Front and center was Lena, whose sillhouette was projected on the video screen and accompanying images. Lots of vibe, to say the least.

The music was very contemporary and completely electronic. It also owed a sizeable debt to Bjork. As Lena is so naturally expressive with her face and body language/movements, this debt seemed appropriate. The audience response was warm and appreciative. I don't think there are many electronic acts in Japan that utilize a female vocalist and English lyrics, as do Hima. I really enjoyed the show and can't wait to hear the album.

2005 World Expo and the Kyoto Protocol

2005-09-23T18:10:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a nearly 18 hour marathon on jet lag. Try it sometime!

I awoke early and caught a 9:00am Shinkansen to Nagoya. From there a shuttle bus to Aichi, sight of the 2005 World Expo. My friend, Shizuo, whose accomplishments resonate more with me every year, is one of the Chief Producers of the event. He is also an architect by trade and designed the Expo's Global Loop and the Canadian Pavillion. He had invited me to spend the afternoon with him, touring the Expo.

The Expo is beautifully situated in the soft, green hills of Aichi. This is a perfect setting for one of the main themes of the event: utilizing technology and nature to create sustainable life systems (villages, towns, cities, etc.) for the future. Shizuo, his colleagues, and many of the countries involved have taken this theme very seriously and produced some thought provoking exhibitions.

My favorite things were also the most simple. Shizuo's Global Loop was undeniably the best. (No bias, here -honest!) It is a rolling, meandering, mammoth boardwalk which sits high above the ground and encircles the entire expo. In other words you can't go to the 2005 World Expo and not walk this route. It's beautiful and makes people watching a big part of the Expo while also providing interesting views and sights along the way. Genius!

I also enjoyed the Japan Pavillion. One of its themes entailed documenting the changes in Japan since the end of World War II. Absolutely stunning. So many of Japan's natural resoures have been devoured since then. One photograph, which showed an abundant agricultural region in 1945, was followed by another of the same spot today: it is now a busy downtown area with a huge parking lot at its center. Joni Mitchell was right: "They paved paradise and put up a parking lot!" I was left with the impression that, in 2005, Japan may be seriously reconsidering the implications and consequences of its environmental practices/policies and is attempting to look much farther into the future in an attempt to improve it.

Shizuo thinks this is true. He's heartened by what he interprets as a change in values and efforts to imagine Japan 100 years from now and, in so doing, improve the potential for sustainable life. However, it became obvious through the day and evening that, in Japan and elsewhere, there is frustration at the United States' environmental policies and failure to honor the Kyoto Protocol.

The Kyoto Protocol is an agreement reached in 1997 by 160 countries (including the US), to reduce emissions and slow global warming. President Clinton signed the agreement. The US senate did not ratify it. During the day, I heard dismay at the Bush administration's efforts to hold up action on global warming. One person I spoke to even intimated -half jokingly- that Hurricane Katrina was an inevitable result of such stalling. However, upon returning to Tokyo and searching the web, I came across at least two other articles which link Hurricane Katrina and the current US government's attitude toward the Kyoto Protocol. Be assured, no one is actually blaming Katrina on the United States' lack of regard for the Kyoto Protocol. But, everyone is saying that Katrina should be a wake-up call to take unified global action seriously.

Here are some interesting articles. (Be forewarned that I have not had time to fact check and research the accountability record of each of these websites. I would advise reading these articles and then making up your own mind.)

http://www.alternet.org/katrina/25877/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kyoto_Protocol

http://www.capetimes.co.za/index.php?fSectionId=273&fArticleId=2872458

http://www.eia.doe.gov/oiaf/kyoto/kyotorpt.html

I came away from the event inspired. There really are smart, creative, compassionate people in the world who are trying to lessen the impact of global warming, people who are genuinely concerned about the environment. If only more folks in seats of power would pay attention to them...

The Crickets That Hurt Your Ears

2005-09-21T09:45:00.000-07:00

Takanawa - the neighborhood in which I'm staying - has a bit more greenery than most Tokyo districts. It will never be confused with, say, Boston's Emerald Necklace, but it has some nice pockets of trees and shrubbery. One such place is Sakurada Dori, a primary route for much of the area's traffic. During the last two evenings, I've gone for a walk along Sakurada Dori just after sunset. The crickets and heat bugs have been out in full force. These crickets! They produce one of the loudest and most shrill sounds I have ever heard from such insects. I have almost had to cover my ears as I walk along the street. They sound like ass-kickers. If I were to bring a couple of them back to Boston and release them into my neighborhood, I think that the gentle and benign crickets of Massachusetts would run! I might try to record them, but the cars along Sakurada Dori might make it difficult to isolate the crickets. Making a mental note to go back there with the field recorder one night.

I met with my contact at the Japan Foundation for the required orientation. While waiting for an elevator, I noticed what appeared to be a library adjacent to the corridor. I asked Yuichiro about it and he then escorted me into a fabulously well stocked library of materials on Japanese arts, culture, science, etc. As a Japan Foundation Fellow, I can check out any number of books during my stay here. Yet another mental note to return to that place.

Tomorrow, I am heading to Nagoya to check out the 2005 World Expo. My friend, Shizuo, is one of chief producers of the event and I'm meeting him there to tour the expo before it finally closes on September 25. It's reported to have been very well attended - and very crowded - throughout the summer. News on this to follow...

Listening: Fourcolor (aka Keiichi Sugimoto) - "Watermirror" Label: Apestaartje

At Sea...

2005-09-20T08:50:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in what is possibly the smallest apartment I have ever been in. It's morning and I've got a partial view of the Tokyo skyline. Apartment may not be the right word. Perhaps compartment is more accurate. This space is a bit like an extremely well designed ship's cabin. And, it has everything: high speed internet; flat screen wall-mounted TV (19", I think); CD/DVD/VCR; galley kitchen with stove top, microwave and 'fridge; small bathroom (in Boston real estate terms, a ".5 bath"); and, most impressively, a hybrid washer/dryer stashed into a closet. Ship Captains should have it so good!

Went running at 6:45am and may have found the perfect time for jogging around Tokyo. The streets and sidewalks were quiet. That all drastically changes between 7:00 and 8:00, when the streets, subways and trains become very crowded.

It's my first full day here in Japan. Despite the jet lag, it will be busy as I have to report for a meeting at the Japan Foundation headquarters, and follow this with another meeting with my advisor. I have that wired, excited physical sensation that, temporarily at least, masks the sleep deprivation that comes with jet lag.

More to report, soon...

Today's listening: Sebastien Roux: "Pillow" Record Label: Apestaartje

One Month To Go

2005-08-19T17:49:00.000-07:00

The Japan Foundation has reserved my plane ticket: AA/JAL, Boston to Chicago to Tokyo/Narita. I depart on September 18 and arrive in Japan on September 19. I've had some great responses to my interview requests. I'm going to detail this in a posting in the near future. Right now, I'm stressing because I still do not have a place to live in Tokyo! Hopefully this situation will improve in the next week, or so.

Messages in Bottles

2005-06-01T21:05:00.000-07:00

I've received a response from every "message in a bottle" I launched last week. This is surprising. All of the responses have been positive. One email, written in Japanese as a response to my inquiry in Japanese, took me an hour and a half to translate! I'm sure that Takino-sensei, my Japanese teacher, could not possibly think of better homework. She must be smiling as I cry, "I wish that I had worked harder at reading and writing!"

Toru Takemitsu

2005-05-27T22:33:00.000-07:00

I was not planning on posting today. However, Ginny and I went to a Boston Modern Orchestra Project concert at NEC this evening. The concert was a tribute to Japan's Toru Takemitsu, one of the great film composers of the 20th century. Many of his works accompanied the films of Akira Kurosawa, among others. He passed away in 1996, at the age of 65.

The concert featured several works by Takemitsu as well as two memorial pieces, by Ken Ueno and Tan Dun. Both pieces were excellent. Fittingly, Tan Dun's piece, Water Concerto, featured three percussionists who were, well, drumming on water. The soloist was Robert Shulz, who was outstanding. One of my former electronic percussion students, Aaron Trant, was also in the mix and he was excellent.

Ken Ueno and Tan Dun absolutely channeled Takemitsu and it was obvious that the composition process was a labor of love.

For anyone reading this who might be curious, head to Amazon.com and type in "Toru Takemitsu" in classical search. You'll see many worthy selections.

Approaching Memorial Day

2005-05-26T18:15:00.000-07:00

I'm in the "message in a bottle" phase of the Japan project. After creating a draft (in halting hiragana and katakana), Takino-sensei, my Japanese instructor, polished my introduction letter/email to a fine sheen. I sent off three emails, today, to Japanese artists that I would like to meet and interview. I'm not even sure that these letters will bring responses. More of these to come.

For those who live in New England and are reading this entry, the following is not news... It's RAINING!