By: Allison Ballard
In the beginning, was the sound. But its soul mate vibration is what really got my attention. It moved through my body, bounced around the theatre and cascaded down my spine, titillating my entire nervous system as it riveted through my skeleton. I was mesmerized, engrossed–I was not an audience member sitting in the auditorium. I was not a spectator. I was a participant observer. My heart center opened and I was born again, a second time as if once was not enough. Not bad for a $25 ticket.
People often ask me how I discovered taiko and I enjoy recalling the moment. It was 1992 and I had no idea what to expect when I bought that ticket. I had never heard of taiko, hadn’t even planned on attending the show, but the poster loomed large on the wall behind Liz, the Artistic Director of the Fort Wayne Dance Collective, when she handed me an unexpected check for teaching creative movement classes.
She had encouraged me to start teaching these children’s classes, but since I had no idea what I was doing I considered it an act of service, not a job. With this surprise check in hand, I bought a last-minute ticket to FWDC’s guest artist performance featuring Katari Taiko from Vancouver Canada.
I had to navigate through a labyrinth of legs and people to find my seat that was located in the very back of the sold-out house. My wide-angle view of the pre-set stage revealed an assortment of drums placed in various positions: vertical, high horizontal, diagonal. Some were small and some were large, very large. My curiosity was definitely piqued.
The drummers entered ceremoniously and took their places with ritualistic fanfare indicative of a sacrament. Their legs stood wide and strong as their arms circled slowly, fully extended, their energy reaching into far space, reaching all the way out to me at the very back of the theatre… and then their sticks found the drum. Dong, dong, dong, do ko, dong, dong, dong! The sound that filled the theatre was so big it was not only heard, it was felt. It carried the audience on a journey. We were each and every one of us bathed in the resonance of the taiko. And we were each and every one of us changed.
“This is what I want to do,” I whispered to the universe. “I want to be a taiko drummer!” No easy feat considering I lived in taiko Siberia otherwise known as the Midwestern United States. No easy task considering I had no skills or knowledge, no teacher and no drums. But even so, my body tingled with the excitement of knowing I was going to be a taiko drummer! It was a pivot point; I knew everything had changed. I was a different person when I left the theatre than I was when I arrived.
Thank you FWDC for providing such life-changing experiences and an enriching mission. And thank you Liz Monnier for your years of service. Many happy wishes as you resign your long-held position as Artistic Director of the Fort Wayne Dance Collective and embark on new adventures!