April 19 — New Mexico

Farmington
Socorro
Las Cruces
Silver City

New Mexico has been wonderful in many ways. At each site, Shidara has done workshops or school shows, for kids from age 5 to college students. The outreach has enabled Shidara to have significantly more contact with the communities. And the communities themselves, being small, have been much more aware of our presence. At the grocery or the local microbrewery (which is kind of a goal to find at each site), people say "oh, you're the group playing tomorrow!" This morning, boarding the bus at the hotel, Shidara was thrilled to find a picture taken at yesterday's school show on the front page of the paper.

PHOTOS
View from the balcony of the Socorro's Macey Center Theater
Sound check in Socorro
Chabo-san tests the wireless mic
View from the tech booth
Cramped quarters backstage at the Las Cruces Rio Grande

Sweating the little things

Somewhere around Escondido my camera went on a fritz and the screen became a bunch of vibrating lines in 70s colors. And my cell phone reception really sucks, which makes it hard to advance the shows or line up things like times for volunteers to report for work. We've been on the go so consistently since then—never at any site for more than the day of production and performance—that I've had a hard time emailing (or blogging). Plus, my email program doesn't work well remotely, and I have to use the webmail interface, which is annoying and inefficient. Fortunately, most of the big stuff was already in place, so I know we have hotel rooms and transportation.

After Escondido, we played San Luis Obispo, CalPoly's Harman Hall. The group got to sign the wall backstage where KODO's name and drawings peeked out from behind some kind of backing board they had installed along the lower 6 feet of wall. Shidara members climbed a ladder and signed high up on one of the pillars, which probably means their names will be there for a long long time. They. What am I saying?! I got to sign the wall also, along with the other staff.

SLO won the award for the best production room, with lovely fabric-covered couches and chairs, nice lamps, and an integrated theater-wide AV feed. When I was setting up our online banking interface, the customer service rep on the other end of the line overheard the triple fue harmony on Koganenokaze and asked what it was. I had just explained we were a touring performing group, so told her it was the group doing sound check. She was in awe, asked if she could find the music anywhere, said, "it speaks; it tells a story." I gave her the Shidara website address.

At the last few sites, the company is being recognized in public now. The hotel clerk has been hoping to see the show because her brother plays with San Diego Taiko, and ends up volunteering to help at the merchandise table; we'll be shopping at the grocery store, and the clerk and bag boy will say, "oh you're the ones playing tonight, aren't you?"; The man at the Radio Shack where I bought a new cell phone charger for Megan was married to the woman who catered our dinner, etc.

SLO sold out, Wickenburg sold out (the presenter actually had tears in her eyes at the end), and here in Farmington, we have two completely sold out shows in an 800 seat hall, with a third well on its way to selling out. It feels like everyone knows about the concert, and everyone in town is coming....

PHOTOS
Kristy maintains the blog in the background as Sarah contemplates the universe.
Kristy and Megan on the pier
Noel of Las Vegas Kaminari Taiko, visiting his sister in San Diego, helped at the Escondido show.

Oh, and I am embedding a video here from our first site. Understand the group does this with about 6 shime before every single show!



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April 7 — Escondido to San Luis Obispo

A near disaster upon arriving at the Escondido Comfort Inn to find the reservation had not been sent down from the national reservation bank to the location. My fault, I think. I keep confusing Escondido and San Luis Obispo, the details and names blending, even as I read them off the page that has the location printed at the top. It's the shuffling back and forth; one moment arranging meals in Chico, the next answering tech questions in Farmington, next sending the rooming list to Wickenburg, then arranging shipping to Fairbanks and gathering sales figures for Mesa. I forget what city I'm actually in at moments, which is really not conducive to doing my job well. However, 99% of things go right, and I'm learning to shake off the 1% and let it go.

Donuts have become an important part of each 16 hour tech/performance day. Sarah is a veteran of TV and stage production, and knows how to work with the crew and stage managers. Donuts are our offering to them on the first morning, to ensure a happy working relationship for the hours, or even days that follow. Before we arrive (or on the night we arrive), we google the hotel and hall, and the use the "find businesses" function, searching on "donuts." We prefer shops that specialize in donuts, as opposed to grocery store ones. If a businesses has the chutzpah to focus entirely on donuts, you know the donuts will be good.

We've discovered among the staff a strong affinity for Dunkin' Donuts, but those aren't the kind you'd deliver to a tech crew break room. For these guys, the donut boxes should be the generic white or pink fold-them-youself kind, sometimes with a rubber stamp of the shop name. In Chico it was Helen's Donuts. In Esdondido, Savoy Donuts, only half a block from the hotel. I arrived at 5:30AM, which is prime donut time. They're coming off the conveyor, warm. We just ask for an assortment. It's kind of beautiful, when you lift the lid, to see the various, sometimes surprising, sometimes garish glazes and sprinkles in a variety of shapes, from your classic round-donut-with-hole shape, to twists and rosebuds, to elongated flat bar-shaped ones with their mysterious cream fillings.

Next tour, I'll get broadband, so I can use the internet on the bus. Then I can look up the donut shops, groceries, Wells Fargos and possible sights and activities as we're driving. These are quiet hours, most of Shidara sleeping, Martin playing music of the Andes or the Canyons quietly in the background. The landscape from Chico to San Diego is picturesque. Today, we'll drive along the ocean. I'm excited about this, the same water that laps both shores of our group's homelands.

As you scroll down now you'll see I've decided to add some photo captions at the bottom of the blogs.

PHOTOS
The Shidara 2008 US Tour bus
left to right, back: Megan, Kristy, Nobu, me, Fumiyo. front: Chabo, Mana at the Oceanside pier

April 4 — Chico to Escondido

721 adults and 2,439 kids later and we're on the long road back down the I-5 spine of California to Escondido. I didn't have time to write about the Karaoke drama at our hotel night before last. I was trying to figure out how to get Fumiyo from the bus to the Holiday Inn, and ended up waiting for their contracted cab to bring her. A hubbub arose around the front desk: a woman was close to crying, gazing at the seemingly unimpressed turbaned man who runs the Indian restaurant there, saying, "For you, I'm gonna do this..., but only for you!" An angry woman came out of the bar, stating loudly that the place was full of people waiting for the karaoke and if they didn't get the karaoke soon, they were all going to walk. The angry woman went to support the long-suffering DJ, who assured all present that she was going to take this setback in stride and bring her stuff in: karaoke for the people!

Apparently, the DJ had not been paid, and had been waiting for the manager to arrive to pay her before she began. The crowd was there for her—all fans and friends. Now they were filled with a sense of mission, threatening to leave if the DJ didn't get her $200. It was very dire.

In the midst of this, the manager walked in, like a king into his kingdom, besieged by a tiny protesting mob. They parted for the little man—for he was rather small in his suit—and hurled oblique insults at him. He ignored them, and walked slowly through their midst and down the hall, not saying a word. I admired his dignity. It somewhat dampened the ire of the tiny mob, and, frankly, they didn't come out look any better for it.

In the end, there was no karaoke, and the crowd broke up, leaving in twos and threes, discussing bar options for the waning night. I had been impressed with their sense of mission and indignation. However, as usual, it dissipated into complaisance. Fumiyo arrived by Liberty Cab, finally, and we also got on with our business.

April 3 — SAC to Chico, CA

We had a pleasant drive up to Chico, the level fiields of crops and grassland stretching from the roadside out to very distant hills. Most slept, and we checked into the Holiday Inn Express around 2:30pm. We like the Holiday Inn Express. as we like La Quinta and Comfort Inn. Not only do the sausage and egg, waffle breakfasts make us all happy, these hotels always have a large community room where we can gather after the show to eat. Plus, there's free wireless, laundry machines and strange things like the "Pillow Menu" in our current room. I ordered one of each: medium firm synthetic, medium down, firm down and u-shaped. The idea was to have a test session with the group members, and discuss, in both English and Japanese, the attributes of each. But we probably would have had to do that last night. Now were in production at Chico. It's going slowly, and it doesn't look like we'll have time for a run-through.

PHOTOS
Shidara experiences the classic "Car Wash" dance sequence at Joe's Crab Shack.
Nobu's Special Brand "Monster World" shirt
Chabo-san explores the American do-it-yourself mentality at Macy's

Second stop Santa Clarita

Saturday, March 29
It's days later—or so it feels. Two, only, but long ones. The first night was a success on so many levels—a gorgeous hall, a full house, a standing ovation, strong merchandise sales. On the other hand, there were hard lessons and realizations. The crew were weirdly indifferent to the performance, some sat backstage reading as Shidara played their hearts out; the merchandise would not reckon out, and actually took longer to resolve than to load the 6,000 pounds of drums on the truck; my plan for the post-show group meal went seriously astray; and so on.

I pondered all of this the next day because I was disconcerted. Now that they are playing in the major leagues, was the tour going to be this way? Were they being made into a commodity, and would that eventually reduce them to not investing so much in their performances the way countless other artists have? Whereas each event in the last tour only happened because of a highly invested audience, now that anyone could check Shidara's name out of curiosity on a subscription series list, would the experience of their playing shift from transformative to purchased? I pondered this, briefly, and then realized it would never happen. Each concert for Shidara is like the big game towards the finals.They challenge each other, root each other on to do their best, taking the hits and the golden moments as a team. They will always do their best.

The next morning, a bus picked us up in Cerritos for the day drop in Santa Clarita (meaning, since the company is local to the L.A. area, they send a bus out to just pick us up, drop us off and go back to the lot. It's significantly less expensive than having contracted the touring coach a day early). It was a frightening ride, reminding me of the Night Bus in Harry Potter movies. The bus needed shocks, and the driver mumbled under his breath, swerved repeatedly into the other lane and had other driver laying on their horns at us. I was terrified that the next four and a half weeks would be like this.

We arrived in Santa Clarita at around 8:30AM—early, of course, and finally people started arriving. At first glance I was worried: they looked way too relaxed for our bus full of highly intense Japanese artists. However, what I learned as the day unfolded is that Santa Clarita is populated by many people who work in the movie and production industry (our sound guy had just gotten done doing tech for Alanis Morrisette or something like that). They are wacky genius types, a world apart from the respectable union guys employed by the City of Cerritos. The Santa Clarita crew put together an incredibly tight show, improved on the sound, fed us copious amounts of food, and even whipped out a big baltic plywood frame to reinforce the merchandise board. What I learned is that for them, as with the crew at Cerritos, mounting Shidara's show is a job. This is their job, and they've seen the best artists in the world. Hard to impress. This concert ended for me with a sense of validation for Shidara: by the end of the show, the crew were leaning forward in their seats, really watching. Coming from them, it was a great compliment.

On March 30, our Fast Deer touring coach arrived, and was blessedly fabulous. It's beautiful, new, white (like our previous rental fleet) and has drop down dvd screens and a great driver, Martin. He will be our commander and chief for the next four weeks. I began feeling like this would really work out okay.

PHOTOS
Our new tour bus home for the next 5 weeks.
Ichiban Driver: Commander Martin Idior
His co-pilot, Mitsu.

First Night—Cerritos, CA

We were up early this morning, anticipating our first tech, run-through and performance. It was all going smoothly, from the moment we walked through the stage entrance (early, of course) and found that the Cerritos hospitality staff know how to make guests happy. For Shidara, it was a simple, but perfect breakfast of scrambled eggs and white toast.

There's been a very relaxed feel to the start of this tour, unlike the desperate hours before their first concert in the 2006 tour. But sometimes being relaxed isn't exactly the best way to be. At about two o'clock, we were informed, by a similarly surprised and unhappy stage manager Jeff (although he was exasperated and resigned, while we were more alarmed and dismayed), that there was to be a reality TV show video shoot in the concert hall at 6:30pm. Apparently, someone in the uber-offices of the city felt it would be good marketing and public relations to allow "Wife Swap" to come in for a half hour and film their contestants sitting and clapping, walking into and out of the theater, etc. The camera would not be aimed at the stage, Jeff assured us, but we would have to be silent during the shoot, which might last a half hour, which might start at 6:30pm, or they might come in later....

On their Japan tours, there are simply no surprises like this. It's one of those strength/weakness things—the ability to make quick adaptations—and we United States dwellers are (relatively) sort of expect the unexpected. We kind of like it. However, laid back often looks a lot like indifferent. I learned that much of this tour will be swimming back and forth between the cultures. All in all, It was pretty stressful for Shidara, and for those of us who had to mediate the situation.

In the afternoon things turned that flavor of grim that only comes as one is staring at a non-negotiable drop deadline, knowing there simply is not enough time. And yet, they determinedly walk through each detail where lesser groups would compromise or cut corners. At 5PM, they begin a run-through of the second half..., only. They won't have time to run the entire show. The backstage crew is worried, the house manager is telling us they must end at 6PM, it's a union house. 6:30PM is the absolute latest, and then he'll have to yank his crew or get in trouble. Maybe there won't be time to mop the stage....

The people come. The show starts. When I take my place backstage, I remember why we're here. Watching them is like watching something so imperfectly perfect it could only have arisen from nature itself. Yet, more marvelous when you fathom how hard humans must work to even begin to emulate the casual perfection of nature.

I anchor backstage, feeling that with Kristy in the lobby at merchandise, Sarah at the sound board mid-hall, and me standing in the wings, the staff created a spine of support for every aspect of the event. Chabo-san, when she was not performing, watchees the monitor and uses the headset to send messages to the sound and light board. She watches her performers on screen as would a coach in sports, silently acknowledging a strong moment with a small nod or a hand gesture, ("yes!"), grimacing a little if something goes wrong. At one point, as Aya-san does a funny little twirl to the yoko-uchi okedo during Kazanomichi, Chabo whips around and hads to bend over, she's cracking up so hard, trying not to laugh out loud, her hand over her mouth. In Niebuchi, she sent signals to the players, to raise their energy, to have them change their facial expression and mood, and give more... more... a little more, and yes!

PHOTOS
5,414 lbs of drum shipped from Japan, plus the Sacramento hira and stand is our load.
Shiidara members waste no time in unpacking the shipment and preparing to tech.
Shime tightening is just the start of 8-hr or more of intense preparation for a performance that same night.
Backstage at Cerritos as our first tech day arrives.
Shidara's opening number, Murasamenone, from the wings

Best part of my day

Yesterday, I arrived at LAX, met Sarah, the tour intern, then spent an hour or so getting our rental car. It's spring break, so very busy in the rental car industry. Or maybe it's just L.A.

We drove back through the arrival lane just in time to sweep up Megan and Kristy, who had arrived from Sacramento (Megan had flown from Japan on the 20th). The Shidara 2008 US Tour has begun!

I'm still recovering from the nasty flu thing that I got two days before leaving Tucson. It's definitely put a damper on things for me, but there's so much going on, and so much of it good, that it doesn't hold me back much.

This has been a very gentle beginning, quite lovely, actually. We've got rooms at the Sheraton across the court from the Performing Center, which is gorgeous. The colored tile and long flags high up in the damp breeze. There' huge expanses of grass, thick and green. Bugsy would love it.

There's vast up-scale suburban mall across the street the other way, with Borders and Walmart and a food court. We scored a printer/scanner/copier for $49, and picked up various other little necessaries for the tour: a plastic measuring cup, a new toothbrush, a case of water, etc. Plus, my priceline karma (car-ma) has held steady. I decided to upgrade the compact vehicle I'd gotten (for less than half the going rate!) because we were going to try to make it back from the airport the next day in one car and one 15-passenger van (there would be 11 international travelers, their luggage and several shime, and two U.S. staff to fit. So I asked for a full-size car (which the guy only charged me $12 more for) and found, once we'd gotten a lift in a passing golf cart out to our rental, that it was a Rav4. Pretty. Clean. White. New.

And it was the same story with the van this morning (although that was more due to Megan's good eye than my car-ma) she spied the van-to-pick-up-Shidara-in-of-her-dreams a little off in the distance, and managed to talk the guy into swapping out the old van he'd assigned us for brand new one..., so new there was still plastic covering the carpets..., and clean and white to match the Rav4. We made a very well put-together caravan.

It's about 28 miles from LAX to our hotel, and that can take anywhere from 35 min to a couple of hours, depending on the traffic. I stayed at the hotel and kept working on details while Megan and Kristy went to the airport. By the time they returned it was lunchtime in Japan, so they stopped to eat at Wendy's (see Kristy-cam image above)

They pulled into the hotel entry around 3pm or so, bringing me a kid's burger. There were quick greetings, a few hugs (which are not typical for them, but they learned really fast on the last tour that we hug all the time over on this side of Pacific. Kristy and I took the car back to LAX and got stuck in traffic as we exited 105. We were texting (me from the Rav4 and her from the van) as we sat there, not moving, "crap. I need gas," "me 2," "must fill b4 return car," "im almost mt" "crap. if no gas, will return car. gas less $ than late fee," (we were pushing past the 24hr rental period at that point) "my light just hit mt," "crap... did we pass hertz?" "dn't knw," "crap." Then I saw a gas station ahead on the left, "crap." and got over one lane of four. Kristy got the van over too. Then I saw a gas station to the right "crap." (which I now have programmed as a text message template), and changed back into the right lane. From there it was easy sailing, though. We both gassed up, pulled u-turns (which was strangely easy to accomplish) and dropped the rental car off late, but were not charged.

When we got back to the hotel about 40 minutes later, I did an hour-long soak in the poolside hot tub while the company and other staff went to a grocery store to pick up dinner and breakfast. This is one of our strategies for keeping within budget. Everybody picks what they want--sandwiches, salads, yogurt, bagels, juice, etc--throws it all in one cart, and then Mana-san pays with the company card. It's much less expensive than eating out, and everyone can get what they need to stay healthy.

I took a short nap, sweating off the soak and clearing my lungs a bit. Then it was back to work, with a meeting on the finances between the Japanese and U.S. staff in the lobby, and then a U.S. staff meeting as we ate our dinners in the room. A few more emails about loading times, workshop details, interviews, verifying shipments, and then I was ready to get to bed.

The phone rang in our room. It was Fumiyo (Japanese lighting tech who studies in the U.S.). The sink had clogged, or the toilet, or something. I called the front desk for a repairman, and then went to meet him at the girls' room, because my job is to make things as easy as possible for them. And think about it: If you were in Japan, and didn't speak Japanese, and your hotel room sink were stopped up, and no one there spoke English, what would you do? Not that this is the case now, because Fumiyo speaks English wonderfully, but still, it's my job to keep them from feeling uncomfortable, and a big repairman in their room this late at night (11pm) might be uncomfortable for them.

Okay, so here's where I get to the best part of my day: I had analyzed the problem was that the sink stopper control had become disconnected from the stopper, so the repairman was only there for about 5 minutes. And since Fumiyo was there, I got to say (and have her translate for Aya) how happy I was to see her again. We exchanged a few similar phrases with Fumiyo's help, and then Aya lifted up the front of her sweatshirt so I could see what she was wearing..., and it was the Odaiko Sonora t-shirt we'd given her two years ago. And if that's not a good best-part-of-my-day, I don't know what is!

Yoko Fujimoto & Cien Fuegos

Yoko Fujimoto's visit to Tucson beautifully coincided with the Yaqui Easter ceremonies. We were able to reciprocate somewhat for the gift of her extraordinary voice and knowledge of Japanese vocal tradtions by taking her to Old Pasqua and Barrio Libre to see a small part of the ritual: the Gloria and the night of festivities that follow. Saturday, in particular, was magical, as we seemed to keep arriving places at just the right time (which, for those of you familiar with the ceremonies know is not usual). Yoko-san witnessed the most dramatic moment of the Gloria, the maypole dance, and, most amazing, the renowned deer dancer Cien Fuegos, who normally doesn't begin till after midnight, but who this night began dancing around 10PM.
I like to think this was special for Yoko-san, who is so very special herself. Her voice is unparalleled in it's passion, skill and technique, and it's clarity..., as is her spirit and intelligence. It was an honor to be able to spend time with her.
Soojin Kim was back in town for the ceremonies, of course. It was she who told Yoko about the Yaqui ceremonies while in L.A. during the Hanayui concert. But I had already planned to take her there. The interest by our Japanese friends in Native American culture has been strong. I think there must be the echo of some kinship, ancient..., but—if you watch the folk dances of northern Japan—unmistakable.

Winter lent spring what

Zoom zoom, and the season is gone! We have done amazing things..., like play taiko for 200 public school administrators faced with dire funding cuts, saying "we can help you bring critical arts and cultural programming to your students, and even help you find money!" Amazing how their faces lit up! We supported the usual array of beloved New Year event, then performed alongside most of the state's taiko players at the Phoenix Matsuri.... And then it's time to write grants so we can keep doing it all again.

We've worked stupidly hard..., I think we've calulated this past year's audiences at over 14,000 people, about a third of those being kids. We've maintained one of the few artist owned performing arts incubator spaces, found underwriting for kids scholarships and begun exploring about 5 new school residency programs on top of 40+ performances and so on.

And, yes, we're pooped.

I've been up to my armpits in planning to road manage the 5-week Shidara tour, having to know exactly where and when each meal is happening, what days we do laundry, how to get to the Wells Fargo in Rexburg, Idaho. My brain is awash with data, and that's not even the stuff I have to set straight in my own life to leave it for so long.

Not that I'm complaining. I know by now (after 20 years of doing this kind of thing) this is what you have to do to make something as incredible as a group like Odaiko Sonora or a Shidara tour happen. I mean, we really whipped this all up out of nearly nothing. I could just sit on my hands and keep letting nothing happen, and think if "it's working fine, why mess with it?" Or I could do what I am compelled to do, which is to explore human potential, engage people in thought and action, drive to connect, make something out of nothing....

I'm sure Tucson would have been fine for many many years (if not forever) without a taiko group. But why shouldn't Tucson have a taiko group? And if it's going to have one, why shouldn't it be one its residents can be proud of? One that strives to honor the art form, the culture it arose from, the way the world has shaped and molded it, the spirit and the love and the energy that is at its heart, and the community it arose within?

That's why I love Shidara. From amidst the toil and grief and joy of their labor, they have honed a gift that they never, ever fail to deliver to us as audience. Their courage and heart is as unfathomable, as their skill and endurance, and their generosity in sharing it.

And don't we want them — those touched by such drive and such gifts — to carry our visions and dreams of perfect expression forward to the human extreme of excellence?

Of course we do, because, in all honestly, not many of us terrestrials are built for the abuse it takes to get to the extremes of human excellence. We'd have to give up jobs, family, security, ease, quiet nights of quiet stars, steady meals and sleep..., not to mention ego and those internal things that keep us from comfortably succeeding.

Although, I'm thinking, someone should probably make me give up this computer....

... which, btw, FELL OFF MY KITCHEN COUNTER about two weeks ago, onto my tile floor. That was harsh. Now my ee key, which should bee a singular e key, keeps spitting out multiple eees eeverytime I hit it. I have to go back and delete all theese ees.

As though....

Inarticulate before the sublime

[Karen writes]

I've had the most awful few days of expressing myself. Meaning many opportunities to do so, and little wit on my part. I was pooped. Last week I had to a) finish building a drum b) prepare for a conference panel discussion on artist spaces c) tech, dress and perform Mythos d) prep the space for and host the JAST New Year party, and, natch, e) keep teaching, administrating and planning. I was a bit sleep deprived, guilt-ridden about neglecting play time with Bugsy (the dog) and just plain addled from trying to hold too many disparate thoughts and aims in mind. Of course, if the dog complains, I'll say "just look at the laundry and you'll know what really neglected is!"

What I wanted to say in the Q & A following the Friday night Mythos performance was that the audience member (who had commented on the amount of sheer trust that the performers must have had) was not mistaken. There was great trust--trickling down from the moment Rick came and said "I want you to do this," to the moment each dancer fell into the arms of another. There was trust as each dancer figured out how slowly to move the ball so that the other dancer could run down to the end to receive it, to the musicians doing their part to make sure the dancers could hear their cues....

I did manage to say that of all the skill sets needed--whether of dance or silks or taiko or whatever--performance was another skill set, and that being a performer inherently demands that we trust other performers. Or at least Rome said I managed to say that. She might have been being kind, and DOES, after all, speak fluent Karen-ese... I get awfully non-linear at times.

I know I said that being a performer means even if something goes wrong, the audience never knows... meaning--and I wish I had articulated it more clearly--that performance is where we, as performers, must trust that we know our parts so well that no matter what happens, it will not mar the audience's perception, and that our only job in those moments on stage is to be the audience's experience....

Ah, but that would be being articulate in the moment: not my strong suit. I grabbed photos of the production from the Tucson Weekly and AZ Daily Star sites. If you want to read the previews of Mythos, go to:

http://www.tucsonweekly.com/gbase/Arts/Content?oid=oid:105679
http://www.azstarnet.com/allheadlines/221929.php

What I know, at the end of the incredible journey that Mythos has been, is that Rick's vision and work has--more than any project I've ever been involved in--captured the feeling I've held for so long about life, and that I've wished I could transmit to everyone I meet: that our lives are in a sense meaningless in the history of the universe, or even our planet, but that we are one of the rare beings that can perceive of our own existence within that context. Thus, we are the ones who give meaning to it, we give it the value and the weight that moves us, we are the ones we've been dreaming of..., and, god, aren't we lucky to have this time to be alive and to experience it all? Even pain and hurt and anger seem to make sense, yet not be so important in light of the joy... of feeling the wind, of singing, of moving together, of teaching and learning, or of just knowing the taste of sugar.... Being here and human is quite amazing.

Everyone is equal in the taiko crew

[Karen writes]

What is more fun?...
Haphazardly playing taiko with 50 other people, in an incredibly low-tech environment, trusting each will do their part and the result will be fantastic...
or
Being part of a massive high-tech theatrical extravaganza with 50 performing professionals, trusting each will do...

Guess it's not so different, really, as long as you're comfortable in either one. Rome has captured the thrill of All AZ Taiko better in words (below) than I did in pictures. I guess once we began playing, I forgot to take pictures.

However, I have a few here from our recent Triangle Y UA Blue Chip Leadership Camp, and our team building event with Stone Arch Creatives client, Gyrus Medical. I really can't say whether it was more fun to train 14 corporate sales execs to perform a taiko song, or conduct 85 college juniors and seniors in a free-for-all ice-breaking session....

The pictures at the right are 1) Corporate execs learning taiko 2) taiko players playing taiko 3) college students watching taiko 4) college playing taiko.

I guess you'll have to look and judge.

Great weekend!

[Rome writes]

We started a new Adult Rec Class (ART) and have really good attendance-- 10 or 12 students. We worked on basic tachi-uchi stance and strike, and learned the beginning of Tanaka-sensei's Renshu. I really like this new format, spending 3 weeks on tachi, 3 on naname, 2 on O, and 2 putting it all together. It's as fun and challenging to teach as (I hope) it is to learn.

Sunday was the first All AZ Taiko (AAT) rehearsal up in Phoenix. Forthe past 3 years Fushicho Daiko has organized a performance including all AZ taiko players at Matsuri. (Learn all about Matsuri, one of the largest Japanese cultural festivals in the US, at www.azmatsuri.org.) This year, we'll be playing 4 songs: Silk, Shutsujin, Kachidoki, and Ogi Matsuri. We have 7 Odaiko Sonorans participating and working like crazy to learn Silk and Kachidoki by the end of February. In fact, we learned Kachidoki in the car on the way up to Phoenix on Sunday-- talk about dedication!

The rehearsal was SO MUCH FUN. 40+ taiko players in unison, practicing movement and rhythm and stage presence together. It's such a rush to play with that many people. AAT truly will be an awesome spectacle. I was really proud of how well all our peeps played, too-- everyone faked Kachidoki reasonably well, and looked darn good on Silk. The arrangement Fushicho has created of Ogi is...beyond description. They broke us all up into 5 groups of 8-9, and set up several stations in the stage area: 2 shime stations with 8 shime each, one station with 4 big drums miyake style, one station with 4 big drums up, and one station where you just yell and get the audience going. The groups rotate through all of the stations, and Ken (from Fushicho) worked it out so there is always one group playing shime and one group on big drums while everyone else is playing, so the song never stops. We play through Ogi ELEVEN times, and the whole piece lasts 10 minutes. It's going to be amazing!!

After the rehearsal all of us Odaiko Sonorans stopped for dinner (taiko = food), and then headed back to town. There was construction and a terrible traffic jam on I-10, so we didn't get home until after 10 PM. It was well worth it, though.

Last night was our final special Silk practice, before we move on to Kachidoki next week. I'm so happy Esther has given us permission to teach Silk- it's an awesome song. Even if we never perform it, the skills in the song are fantastic, and it's FUN, and great exercise when you run it 7-9 times as we did last night. Congrats to everyone who's conquering Silk!

No place like home

[Karen writes]

The trip home was uneventful; the most notable thing being, perhaps, the decline of gas prices from $3.67 to $2.85 a gallon. We took the Phoenix bypass this time, from Buckeye to Gila Bend. There was no particular reason, save our memory of the awful traffic jam north of Casa Grande on our trip out.

At the UWP staff reception last night, I got an overview of the history of the organization. It's funny, everyone we told about this gig had heard of Up With People, but were surprised to hear the group was still in existence. In fact, UWP was founded in 1965, but closed shop in 2000 as most of it's major funding disappeared. It restarted in 2004 at a smaller scale and with fiscal health high on its list of priorities. This Rose Parade performance was UWP’s largest major live production in 24 years... since Superbowl XX! Their sudden appearance at such a prominent event and with such an impressive production resulted in so many hits on their website after the performance that the server crashed for 10 minutes!

The grandstand audience was clearly moved by the sheer scale and the unbridled energy of the piece as it flooded the street below them with color and motion and sound. However, the UWP producers were worried the TV broadcast didn't capture it entirely... and it didn't. Somehow the cameras completely missed two incredible shots--the Chinese dragon and the Ukrainian dancers (with the death defying--if you ask this girl-- leaping splits). I guess that's a testament to just how much was going on.

Last night we learned that not only was the Rose Parade Committee really happy with the results, those “in the biz,” who know how delicate and unpredictable it is to produce a live performance of this scale, were duly impressed.

For my part, it was an incredible experience to work with such dedicated people, young and, ummm..., older. Many of the alumni had volunteered their time, and many of the outgoing UWP grads had signed on an extension to help out on this gig before continuing on with their lives. It was wonderful to work with people who believe, at their very core, that artistic expression and cultural exchange make the world a better place. What’s more, the leadership and teamwork that UWP obviously instills in its participants is rare and genuine.

We're jazzed to be able to bring this experience back to Tucson and Odaiko Sonora. We send huge thanks to Mia Hanson, Bryan Takeda of Happicoats.com, all the Up With People staff and performers, and to all of you who followed on our journey by reading along.

And it's over.

[written by Rome]

Just like that! Our 3 minute of Up With People-ness, in the past. In case you missed it, you can YouTube it at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lDGZqb0Sdoc

Here's what it was like behind the scenes:

Dec. 31, 2:30 PM
We finished our final rehearsal on the float, at the Duarte Float Barn (probably not its real name, but that's how I will always know the vast, drafty warehouse where we had our final rehearsal, and go to be as up close and personal as I've ever been with a Rose Parade float). We loaded the drums onto the Up With People truck, for their tech crew to deliver to the performance site and set up for us-- meaning we'd get an extra 2 hours of sleep (since we wouldn't have to go set up our own equipment). THAT was a no-brainer.

We drove directly back to the hotel, and I (Rome) went immediately to bed. The stomach flu had made a brief appearance the night before, and I'd gotten almost no sleep, and was still feeling quite ill. I slept until about 7 PM, then went back to bed at 8 PM, and slept until midnight. We had to meet in the hotel lobby at 1 AM to be driven out to the performance site. I felt much better after my hours of sleep.

Jan. 1, 2 AM

It was pitch dark and cold when we got to the corner of Orange Grove Blvd and Colorado in Pasadena. We made sure the drums were set up okay. Gaby, the tech for UWP, is amazingly good. In fact, all of the UWP staff is amazingly good-- professional, competent, friendly, and helpful. It's been a pleasure and honor to work with them.

After the set check, we headed down to Maranatha High School (about a 3 minute walk from the performance site) to join up with the UWP cast. They'd been there since 9 PM the night before, reveling and welcoming the New Year. I'm sure the cast's 9 PM call was insurance against any of them welcoming the New Year a little TOO enthusiastically and missing the show. Much too soon we had to head back into the cold for our TV rehearsal. Although we were all in full costume, we were allowed to keep our layers on during this rehearsal. Thank GOD-- it must have been in the low 40s. I had snagged the blanket off my hotel bed, and had it wrapped around my shoulders. Looks, zero, but practicality, ten.

The vast empty Grandstand in front of us was quite a sight. If anyone had been unsure of the size of the live audience, they weren't any more. We ran the piece 5 or 6 more times for the TV crew to practice their camera moves and which shots they wanted, and we got to run the strike twice.

Sadly, the TV broadcast didn't show our 45 second strike. Yes, that's right-- we had 45 SECONDS to get EVERYTHING out of the way-- the pods the musicians (including us) were on, the speakers, the pyro, the cast-- EVERYTHING had to be moved about 100 yards down the street, and then about another 50 yards up a little side street, so the parade could start. Riding the pod was a hoot, but a little scary. I mean, 4 feet above the ground, on a quickly moving pod, which weighs several hundred pounds, steadying an Odaiko that was quite rumbly when the pod got going. Falling would equal severe injury. Plus, I don't like heights anyway.

After the final TV rehearsal and strike, we re-set and headed back to the high school.

Jan. 1, 5:15 AM

The full UWP cast, all 100 of the scouts, families, UWP staff, musicians (including us) queue up for breakfast. It was quiche, and quite good quiche, and there was enough for all. I actually managed to eat several bites of mine, my first solid food in over 36 hours. We hung out at the High school, eating, sleeping, re-applying make-up, etc.

The girl's bathroom was an experience. It's been a long time since I've been around 19-21 year olds, and an especially long time since I've been around women that age who wear a lot of make-up. There was as long a line for the make-up counter as there was for the stalls, and every single outlet was taken with either a) a curling iron b) a hair dryer or c) a cell phone charger. Luckily, my hair was dry and my phone was charged.

Jan. 1, 6:45 AM

Everyone headed over to the performance site. There was a tent set up backstage for us, so we all packed in to put finishing touches on costumes, and keep warm. The UWP cast members were taking photos-- this was the last UWP performance for many of them. Most of them were just finishing up their year of touring with UWP. No tears (yet) but lots and lots and lots of photos.

Jan. 1, 7:45 AM

We moved into positions onstage, to wait some more. It was cold. Have I mentioned that yet? The Grandstand was full at this point, about 4200 people by Karen's reckoning.

Jan. 1, 7:54 AM

We took places and launched into "Up With People," the song we did as a warm-up for the live audience. My hands did that going-numb thing they do sometimes when I'm performing fue and I'm nervous. Of course I was nervous, I was about to be on national TV! And in case you're wondering, Karen and I DID learn the words to Up With People so we could lip sync along-- hey, if more people were for people, all people everywhere, there'd be a lot less people to worry about and a lot more people who care. Think about it. We left our pod after warming up the crowd, and stood behind it to await our call to...

Jan 1, 8 AM

...PLACES! We all had to get into place about 90 seconds before the song started, cuz that's how much time there was between when the TV coverage started and our song started (except on KTLA, whose announcers talked a little bit over the start of the song). 90 seconds is a LOOOOONG time to stand excited and committed to your position, but not moving, but we're professionals (ahem). Then, all of a sudden, the producer was counting down: 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3 (the last 2 were silent, of course-- yes, they really do mime the last two counts as they count you in), and then the song started, and I raised my arms and hit my note and played a few beats, busted a few Kasabayashi moves and....it was over. Everything went great. No dropped bachi, no missed notes (it was very hard to hit that first note, there was absolutely no count), no stumbling, no falling off the pod, and the strike was done in 42 seconds-- pshah, who needs 45 seconds to move literally tons of equipment? Not Up With People!

Jan. 1, 8:15 AM

We took our (comped) seats, and became Rose Parade spectators. I'll let Karen blog about that-- I gotta' go pack so we can hit the road back to Tucson.