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....