Fountain

"One day a student asked Taiga Ike, "What is the most difficult part of painting?"
Taiga said, "The part of the paper where nothing is painted is most difficult."*

I recently acquired a print by Kaz Tanahashi. It is entitled "Fountain" and I have hung it in the small nook where I spend many hours practicing the shakuhachi. My zen teacher said, upon hearing me mention that I wanted to place the art work in my modest 'music studio', "Ah, that would be perfect for a place to practice music, 'fountain', it just reminds me of music."

*"Essential Zen" Page 107

Happy Anniversary Shakuhachi Journey!

We have been traveling along the bamboo path for a year now and what a great adventure it has been!

Taking stock, here's an inventory of the first year in my shakuhachi journey:

Teachers: After beginning with face to face lessons locally, I eventually expanded my choice of teachers thanks to technology and finally settled comfortably with Michael Gould as my shakuhachi teacher. Michael lives in Ohio and I meet with him for lessons twice a month via Skype. His teaching style is an excellent match for my learning style.

Flutes: My main flute is a 1.8 that was recommended to me by Al Ramos and which I enjoy as my all round flute. I also have accumulated five other flutes in a variety of lengths and styles: a moderately used 30 year old 1.5 purchased from Jeff Cairns, two Chinese root end shakuhachi, a 1.6 and 2.1, from Ken LaCosse, and a 2.4 Earth flute from Perry Young as well as a 2.4 given to me by Jacques Belanger.

Friends: I have made many over the past year, thanks to the forum, this blog and the connections made possible in this digital age.

Skills: Well, let's see, in the shak world, to play for a year is not a very long time at all and my skills clearly demonstrate this fact. I can play in tune now, most of the time and I have a fairly firm handle on the two octaves and the common notes played in meri. I have played simple Japanese folk songs until my neighbours have likely memorized them note for note and I have made the acquaintance of a few honkyoku which always give me a deep pleasure to play.

I have enjoyed documenting this first year of shakuhachi here on the blog and hope you found the blog interesting and maybe at times even helpful. Thank you for coming on the Shakuhachi Journey with me and please continue to visit the blog as it enters its second year.

Honkyoku

As I rushed through the notes of a piece recently during one of my shakuhachi lessons, striving to demonstrate my understanding of the notation and my ability to actually coax the said notes from the bamboo, my teacher gently commented on the intent and experience of honkyoku. He said it was really not so much 'music' as it was all about the breath. The listener will be breathing with the shakuhachi and an interruption of the flow of the notes would be more jarring to them than a mistake in the mechanics. He taught me that there were three basic elements to playing honkyoku. The first element is the inhalation which he said was like gathering 'inspiration', a 'taking in' from the universe. The second element is the exhalation or manifestation of form, in this case in the shape of sound. And the third element is the ending of the exhalation, the sound as it ends, disappearing completely into space.

I had read a lot of general information about honkyoku but I don't think I had really started to understand it until this particular lesson.

The lesson had a big impact on how I played my practice honkyoku pieces from then on. I listened more to the sound from its beginning to end. I enjoyed the space between the notes as much as the notes themselves. And at times I caught a brief glimpse of what makes honkyoku so different from music.

Rain

I love it when it rains! Just the perfect weather to hole up and play the shakuhachi.

The sound of steady rain is so soothing, so rhythmic and so mellow. It creates such a inward space. Cocooned inside, warm, dry, surrounded by rain and yet separate from it.

When it rains, there's no competition from the outdoor pursuits that, on a warm sunny day, keep whispering their thrills into my ears. No, when it rains those activities quietly take their place in the corners and closets waiting for the sun's rays to waken them from their temporary hibernation.

When it rains it's just me and the bamboo alone by the window, cosy in my meditation nook that doubles as shakuhachi studio, I can see the raindrops inches away on the window pane. I hear the sounds of the downpour increase and then gradually let up until eventually there's just a steady flow and then slowly subsiding drops. So many different sounds to the rain, it provides a pleasant backdrop to the tones of the shakuhachi, it offers a perfect context for practice, and it is an wonderful accompaniment to the sound of the flute, wouldn't you agree?

The Bonsai Master

The downpour was heavy and came out of nowhere. I hunkered under a store awning giving the impressive fall shower some time to lessen before I continued on my way to complete my errands on the street near my home. Next to me were two other like minded folks, their umbrellas dripping while we three looked out into the cascades of pouring rain. One man immediately caught my attention due to the fact the he was holding a low cut cardboard box in which three beautiful bonsai plants were nestled.

"Excuse me", I timidly said, "where are you going with those lovely bonsai?" He told me he was on his way to sell them and thus our conversation began and soon the inclement weather that had thrown us together was forgotten as we became deeply engrossed in bonsai talk. I own two juniper plants and two banyen bonsai, and how I came by those miniature trees is another story for another time, but I don't have much of an idea of how to prune the lovely plants and here I was face to face with a bonsai master. So he talked about the plants and the methods of care he used. He showed some of the principals of pruning and explained care appropriate during the different seasons of the year.

I learned so much in that unexpected meeting under the awning and by the time the rain had lessened and we returned to our separate agendas for the morning, I held a Japanese Maple bonsai in my hand marveling at how sometimes the least expected can happen when you least expect it!

Twists and Turns

A few weeks ago I had this terrific breakthrough when my teacher gave me some helpful tips that just blew open the second octave for me. The notes finally started to flow and no longer had that irritatingly tight trapped sound. I gloried in the improvement and felt like playing for hours with the joy of the freedom of the second octave.

Then my next lesson arrived, me all pumped with my new found success and skype inviting my teacher to watch and listen as I played. Ah, but what did he notice...could it be....my flute was a little low, he said. Well now that doesn't sound like a big deal does it? Good of him to pick up those little details, I thought. But the little details can make a lot of difference, now and down the road. "You can get more air in the tube if you have the instrument just a little higher up", my teacher advised me. And, interestingly, it was actually a bit easier to stay in pitch with the flute placement tweaked. But it was hard to make that subtle change and, at first, the notes sounded breathy and weak.

Not again....lame notes coming from my flute and mostly from Otsu this time. Dang, this is a long slow road I thought. So I puffed and adjusted and blew and cursed (just once) and blew some more. Slowly the sounds improved and the placement began to feel more natural and I crept along again, yes, crawled along the shakuhachi track reminding myself again about how its all about the journey not the destination.

"Essential Zen"

"A good player of shakuhachi is one who makes the bamboo shaft alive. A master naturally and effortlessly brings forth something inconceivable. However, without study it is impossible to enter the boundaries of mastery. You become the bamboo. The bamboo becomes you. A master lives in emptiness while working in form.

This quote by Fuyo Hisamatsu can be found on Page 111 of "Essential Zen" which is a collection of teachings and ideas gathered by Kazuaki Tanahashi and Tensho David Schneider. The book is one which is particularly conduscive to being read in small bits over time.

Here's another quote I like and which helps me to stay in the moment:

"Don't say that I will depart tomorrow -
even today I am still arriving."

Thich Nhat Hanh
P 87