Music & Peacebuilding

Sounding Flow and Silence in Shakuhachi Practice with Kiku Day

November 05, 2022 Kiku Day Season 3 Episode 12
Music & Peacebuilding
Sounding Flow and Silence in Shakuhachi Practice with Kiku Day
Show Notes Transcript Chapter Markers

This first episode of a two-part series with Kiku Day explores shakuhachi history and how the shakuhachi is taught and learned. Central to shakuhachi are traditions of flow and the use of silence or absence through the language of ma. Recordings from Wild Ways are generously provided by the composer, performer, and record label. 15ZWATlBgcYPn7lBZWgq

The Music & Peacebuilding Podcast is hosted by Kevin Shorner-Johnson at Elizabethtown College. Join our professional development network at www.musicpeacebuilding.com - thinking deeply we reclaim space for connection and care.

Kiku Day:

Playing shakuhachi I found that the flow the special flow that each piece has was something that was quite difficult to understand to internalize and to embody. So if I played a piece, and I played the next piece, it somehow very often sounded like the previous piece. Couldn't kind of had to kind of really like imagine the new piece and then play it. And then I could successfully change the flow in some ways.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

You are listening to season three of the music and peacebuilding podcast, a professional development network at music peacebuilding.com Exploring intersections of peacebuilding, sacredness, community, creativity and imagination through research and story. Kiku day is a shakuhachi player in ethnomusicologist. She is a founding member of the European shakuhachi society, for which she served as a chairperson from 2009 to 2019. Together with Michael Soumei Coxall, she initiated the European shakuhachi summer school and Festival in 2006 and was the chair of the world shakuhachi Festival in 2018. Kiku Day studied shakuhachi with Okuda Atsuya, one of the foremost performers of jinashi shakuhachi. She studied performance at Mills College, and earned a PhD in ethnomusicology at SOAS, University of London, where she completed research on jinashi shakuhachi construction, and collaborated with five composers to create new shakuhachi repertoire. Several composers have composed works for her including Roxanna panufnik, Takahashi Yuji, Frank Denyer, Marisol Jimenez, Marty Regan, and Vytautas Germanavičius. Kiku Day lives at the meditation center Vækstcenteret in the western part of Denmark. She teaches Zensabo style Honkyoku, improvisation and new music and Nørre Snede in Copenhagen, Denmark, Hamburg, Germany, and London, UK. So my I think my opening question is about you as a bridge builder. If I see a theme across your work, it's that that you cross thresholds. And I think the book chapter on Tamuke is also an example of that. That cross cultural translation, and you're helping us to see the ways in which things get reframed as they move across cultures through shakuhachi. But also named some other areas where you you straddle thresholds between your American and Japanese identities, you straddle thresholds between your residence in Denmark, you straddle thresholds of being a practitioner and being an ethnomusicologist, or an academic. And also, my sense is that from the place where you live, which is a center for meditation, there's that that threshold between the outside and the inside. So if you were to narrate a biography of threshold crossing and how that influences your work, how would

Kiku Day:

Oh, that's a difficult one, actually. Because I think you start that? it's just a condition for me to be at these kinds of thresholds. You know, you already mentioned my fundamental threshold in national cultural identities. I actually grew up in Denmark. So the Danish identity is the strongest, although the Japanese and American comes into play as well. So in a way, I think, this kind of crossing thresholds is kind of part of my life. And then it seems like a place where I can play a role as well, maybe I'm thrown into it, and I can't escape it anyway. So I might as well make the most of it in some ways.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

Yes, most will claim that space.

Kiku Day:

Yes, but it did take quite some battle. to kind of get to that point.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

Kiku days heritage of threshold crossings, accompanies a history of shakuhachi crossings. The shakuhachi moved from Korean to Japanese cultures in the eighth century, and carries a story of passages between sacred and secular. The shakuhachi also crosses thresholds of a solo instrument and one that has a heritage within the Gagaku ensemble. This instrument became an important activity among a group of wandering Buddhist monks, who formed under the identity of Komuso monks within the Fuke sect. Coming from more than 77 Komuso temples, this loose organization of monks were granted special privileges as samurai to cross community thresholds in seeking arms while playing under the protective cover of woven baskets.

Kiku Day:

Suddenly, the shakuhachi was played by these Komuso monks, Komuso means monks of nothingness. And they had these Komuso temples scattered around the whole of Japan. They had special privileges of playing the shakuhachi, for example, they had monopoly on that. And they supposedly play shakuhachi as their Buddhist practice. It was a strange sect, because there are no layperson. in that sect, it was all monks and the monks had to be from samurai caste or level of society, you couldn't be a peasant who wants to wanted to be a monk, for example. So they wandered around Japan, and they had this privilege that they also could cross into wherever they wanted to go. You couldn't stop a Komuso monk. So they played for alms. And it's that repertoire that we call honkyoku. So, hon can be translated as original or base or, you know, the fundamental pieces. And I think we today know about 250 pieces. Not at all that many are known very well today. But that's the heritage from the Edo period till now the honkyoku pieces that these monks played.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

I'm just curious about something and maybe totally off. But one of the things that we talk about in peacebuilding a lot is that after there's been a period of violence, one of the biggest struggles is reintegrating combatants into society, such that they can reintegrate, and I'm always curious about was the shakuhachi a tool for a warrior class to be reintegrated during a time of peace? Or is that an erroneous guess? Or conclusion?

Kiku Day:

It's I've never seen it described like that. But most of the time, when you look at, like also Japanese documents, talking about the role of the Fuke sect as such of the Komuso monks, it says that, since it was a peaceful time, and a lot of these samurais did actually become unemployed in the sense that they're, you know, their Lords didn't need them anymore. And since the Japanese society was very hierarchical, they couldn't just become a merchant or that would be a very terrible downgrade in frank, in some ways in at that time. But becoming a monk was something that was regarded not so bad, that was an acceptable transition to another role. Yeah, so yes, you could say that the Komuso or the Fuke sect or Komuso monks did have that role. They took in and, and gave, samurais, who otherwise didn't have any, anything to do a purpose in life, but that also gave a lot of trouble. And we do have historical documents of the two main Komuso temples, ??? and the other one slips my mind, but the two main ones, they made a decree that Komuso monks shouldn't drink or shouldn't get into fights or these kinds of things. So for sure, though, there was a lot of trouble with those people. And the Japanese, the older generation as well have a quite a negative image of Komuso monks. Yeah, it's so it's not so romantic as as many might want to think. It's certainly very complex, I would say.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

Okay, so if we turn the conversation to how the shakuhachi is taught, learned and lived. I wanted to, to move into your recent article in which you were talking about your shakuhachi teacher. And you said that Okuda, if I'm saying that right, often said, play your shakuhachi, so that one sound contains the whole universe and that playing shakuhachi is the union of opposites. So could you paint a picture of what it was like to study with Okuda and how one sounds the universe and brings together opposites through shakuhachi study and playing?

Kiku Day:

Yes, it was really a cultural surprise or new thing for me to study with Okuda. Since I grew up in Denmark, I, you know, I went to Japan to study shakuhachi. And I made the decision to make the shakuhachi come to me. So I actually waited until the shakuhachi came to me. And then I was introduced to Okuda. Today, I'm really happy that that was how it happened. And so what is very often talked about when shakuhachi scholars, several of us, write about the teaching method, is this tacit knowledge that is handed over, I would say, Okuda actually started with teaching me quite a difficult piece. I can't imagine starting students off with that piece. But so we stayed with this piece for more than a year. And slowly, slowly, I was kind of able to, but I was a flautist. So I wasn't the slowest, I could blow I knew how to use my breathing and how to move my fingers and things like that. So, but still, I mean, I remember friends, you know, saying are you still only playing on that, that one piece? What piece was that? That was actually Tamuke. Okay. So a lot of people, teachers today will teach little children's melodies or folk music pieces that are easier, these kinds of things. But Okuda went straight in and taught honkyoku. So these pieces from the Komuso monks, and that was also what I was interested in. So I was really grateful for that. Because if I had gone to one of the teachers who would take me through a lot of other repertoire, first, I think I would have lost my patience, and gone back to playing the flute. But I kind of kept with it. And the way he taught was, of course, in the beginning, he will teach me, you know, phrase by phrase, he will show, I will imitate, and we will go through the piece. And from then on, we just played it together. And I could of course, stop him. But it was kind of implicit that you didn't. So if there were places that I wanted to make sure I heard I could hear him play, I, you know, I try really to play softly and hear how he would play and just follow. But a lot of the time for me, I just tried to follow up, sometimes it was actually really hard. He didn't slow down anything like that. And if I got lost, he would just play on and then I had to find the place to, a place of hidden. So that piece like Tamuke, which was first time, I will estimate that I have played with him 100 times together. And this was actually a very, very interesting way. I mean, it's a lot of time, written and describe that you you know, the teacher often is very silent. So you silently pass over and it's the student's responsibility to"steal the art" as the Japanese have a concept of "stealing the art." And so the art is openly there, you know, he'll play with you, you can see the fingers you can see how we blow through and can hear how it sounds live. And then it's up to you to learn from it. And it's very interesting how a piece opens up in the beginning you just concentrated on on moving your fingers then you can also add in the beginning at least when you are a more experienced player that comes at the same time but then you add changing the head positions and then all the aesthetical you know the ornamentation on all this that's not written in the score. And that comes along afterward. Slowly, slowly, you're able to take another level in.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

Drawing upon scholarship from Victor Fung. I note that many Confucian, Daoist and dharma traditions center flow and the softness of water as a model of ethics and beauty flow offers gentle patient persistent change, and a model of kindness that is as natural as the flow of water. Flow is an action of motion and a non action of stillness. Bonnie Wade's text on Japanese music describes Koto music as a kind of "flowing ongoingness." Kiku Day writes that flow is found in the practices of shakuhachi teaching. As students learn by playing alongside the teacher, Day remembers, "my teacher spoke often about flow. He even said it in English many times to be sure I understood him." in teaching and peacebuilding flow may be an ongoing balance between action and non action, movement and stillness that opens generative possibilities. Listen here to a recording of Kiku de playing Sinubi [music]. I've read in a number of your articles or books about how this practice of playing along with the teacher is something that really centers flow and it centers, this idea that everybody has their own breath, and their own length of breath, if I'm understanding that, right?

Kiku Day:

that the flow of the piece Yes, and that's one thing that's very, very difficult on shakuhachi because the tempo changes all the time. And it can change within one phrase and slow down within the same phrase and, and it's alive all the time. So it's something that will be very difficult to write down. And even if you wrote it down, it will be too complicated. But when you're playing along this way, you kind of learn it intuitively. So the this kind of mimicking practice is certainly a very efficient way of teaching this complicated flow of a piece. You know how and where are the silences where are the, you know breaks in between and, and things like that. If you're a very good student, I've heard that you're just a fraction of a second behind your teacher so you just have that momentary listen of what he's or she's doing. So yes, and also flow of a piece. I think I've never thought about this, playing piano or traverse flute or anything like that. But playing shakuhachi I found that the flow, the special flow that each piece has was something that was quite difficult to understand to internalize and to embody. And so if I played a piece, and I played the next piece, it somehow very often sounded like the previous piece. Couldn't kind of had to kind of really like, imagine the new piece, and then play it. And then I could, you know, successfully change the flow in some ways. And this is interesting, because I don't have this problem anymore. But I don't know when that changed. I certainly remember that was one of the very difficult things to go from a piece to the next. And make sure that you knew from the beginning, what piece you're playing, what kind of feeling it has, and what flow it has.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

Yeah. That's, that's a word that I have seen come up and Bonnie Wade's writing as well, as she writes about the koto and other incidences that word Flow is used a lot in English descriptions of practices of Japanese music. So it's interesting.

Kiku Day:

Yeah, I think also, because that's the thing. Now, the honkyoku is a solo repertoire. So I have mostly done in traditional Japanese music, only solo music. And, but of course, solo is not the only thing that exists and, and in ensemble music, you have very much a concept where you are supposed to breathe together. So as long as your breath is, you know, in accordance to each other, then you can kind of, you know, speed up or slow down. That that's very interesting, and an extremely difficult thing to catch. I think I haven't tried it very many times, so I'm not very experienced in it. But it's similar to how the flow is when you play solo music, just that you then have to make sure that you're doing it in accordance with the other person. The other person's

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

Shakuhachi instruction unwinds a search for the individuality of breath, and the particular nature of a composition. Of breath, Day writes, quote, "as all players have different durations of breath, length and speed are thereby determined by the performers own breathing. Okuda often told me in lessons that the only rhythm and honkyoku is the rhythm of your breath, not mine, not anybody else's, but your own. The following recording of Night flying winter cranes for shakuhachi and electronics is performed by Kiku Day and composed by Mogens Christensen. This recording is provided with generous permission of the performer, composer and record label[music]. So let's open up that word of Ma or that idea of silence or emptiness. And I was really interested in your recent article on meditation that there was a moment in which you really started paying attention to Ma as a part of your meditation practice. So could you introduce my listeners to Ma and why it's so important in shakuhachi, it's not an afterthought, but it's something that you lean into, in some ways.

Kiku Day:

Yes, Ma is hard to define, it's very often described as silence in case of music, the empty part of a painting, like, if you have a brush painting, then there are parts of it, where the brush haven't been, that's the Ma, or if it's speech, it's the silence, but ma at the same time also affects the length of the notes itself. So Ma is in some way, also the flow, I would say. But very often, because Ma itself, the character is in between. So it is very often considered as what's in between the silence. But it's, it affects also the non silent part. Yeah, so in a way, maybe Ma is even flow, I would say, but there's in shakuhachi, music, the the part where you play and the part that is silent, it's, in some ways, equally important. Some would even say the silence is important. And some times it really depends on the teacher and the style. The thing is, the shakuhachi has so many different guilds, or groups. And each of those have quite different aesthetic values, that it's hard to talk about, you know, making meta theory on it. So I can really only speak about the the styles that I have learned and, and played but as a scholar, I've gotten into playing more styles. If I was only a performer, I will be very happy with Okuda's ???. But as a scholar, yes, I needed to go into more into the different styles

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

found in the negative space of a painting, and the silence between notes. Ma is meaningful absence that carries unsounded intentions. Not only the absence itself, but the entrance and departure of absence. In our rush to dominate voids with streams of activity, we may benefit from an imagination of how we enter absence, offering the gentleness of meaningful silence. And there's a relationship with Meri and Keri, and I think that you talked about how the Meri head position leads into the silence. Is that correct? Or

Kiku Day:

both Keri and Meri, Yeah, Keri, is the head position where you play kind of normal notes, when you just open the holes and Meri is you lower the note by actually, you know, you change the relationship between the mouthpiece and and your lips, and you actually close more of the big open hole and at the top. And you know what the note but the quality of sound changes and you also have to blow softer because the hole will get smaller. So the timbre is very different, much softer. A little bit darker maybe. And so, both Keri and Meri notes can lead into Ma or silence. But they have a, I would say this interpretation obviously. And maybe not everyone will agree on this. But I would say that if you end on a Meri note, then there is this tension in the Ma that comes after or the the silence that come after that has this I have this feeling that something must come. It's like you there is, it feels a little bit like magnetism in some ways. You know that there's something that's drawn to it and very often When you end on a Meri note, then you pick up with a Merk note And then you kind of release it with a brighter, stronger Keri note. So, the quality of Ma ending on a Meri note the quality of Ma or silence, if we talked about, if we use it like that after Keri note is very different, because on a Keri note you would usually really, really fade out. And it could be an ending, you know, it doesn't have to be but it can be much more than that. Of course, it's much more complex than that, but I would really say that a Meri note, a silence after Meri or Keri note has this very different feel to it.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

We conclude with a return to the recording of Sinubi provided with generous permission by Kiku Dau the composer Takahashi Yuji[music]. Our time within absences may be a needed rest for the sonic and spatial dominations of our time. May we open silent space to explore cross thresholds and find voice that is as unique as the length of our own breath. In the next episode, we continue this conversation with an examination of performances that contain an entire universe in a single sound. Special thanks to Kiku Day, Takahashi Yuji, Mogens Christiansen, and the record label for permission to use recordings in this podcast. Kiku Day's CD titled "wild ways" can be found on streaming services everywhere. Her website is that WWW dot Kiku day.com. This is the music and peacebuilding podcast hosted by Kevin Shorner-Johnson. At Elizabethtown College, we host a master of music education with an emphasis in peacebuilding. thinking deeply we reclaim space for connection and care. Join us at music peacebuilding.com

Bio
Thresholds of Identity
Shakuhachi History
Samurai in Peace
Shakuhachi Teaching
Flow
Sinubi 1
Flow Part 2
Individuality of Breath
Night Flying Winter Cranes
Ma, Silence, and Absence
Meri and Keri
Sinubi 2
Closure