By: Allison Ballard
I hate it when I mess up a song during a performance. I’m not even sure what happens. Sometimes it’s a song I know really, really well and all of a sudden my mind/body does something completely unexpected. Sometimes it’s a newer song that I think I am ready to play, but then that unknown something clicks in my brain or body and I find myself playing or not playing, or moving or not moving early or late or completely at the wrong time and I am left dealing with the repercussions of that single millisecond when my neurons fired some unexpected message for some unknown reason. Depending on the error, depending on the song, those repercussions may create a domino effect that cascades throughout the song and the group, leaving everyone floundering as we make spontaneous decisions in an attempt to pull the song together. Smiling all the while of course, trying to look like everything is fine as we try to figure out how we can at least end at the same time.
I probably make more mistakes than anyone else in our performing group. And when I do, I feel badly for my fellow drummers. I feel badly for the audience. I feel disappointed in myself. It’s very disheartening. But I keep coming back for more, determined to figure it out, determined to get it right. If nothing else, I am tenacious.
This is why taiko drummers reference taiko as a journey…because it is more than knowing how to play a song. It is more than mastering technique. It is more than developing musical understanding. A person’s taiko journey is an ever-evolving understanding of self, an unfolding revelation of self in relationship with others and spirit. Taiko takes me to the edge, dangles me over the dark abyss and then pulls me back to the comfort of the underlying, interconnecting pulse that anchors and drives the experience of being. So much for the little engine that could…I embody the tenacity of a taiko drummer enticed by the eye of the tiger. A revealing combination seated deep in the soul.