Scouring the groves

I've been involved in searching madake bamboo groves in central Kyushu, Japan for suitable bamboo to make shakuhachi for the past 22 years. My interest began when my teacher, Tsurugi Kodo, asked me to join he and his father (master maker Tsurugi Kyomudo) in the bamboo hunt. The more hands, the easier the task was. I came to enjoy the atmosphere offered in the quiet of a large bamboo grove. Typically every year we harvest about 40 or 50 culms (pieces of bamboo including the root) for making shakuhachi. It's hard work, but very enjoyable. In recent times, my teacher Tsurugi Kodo and I have been hosting an international group headed by shakuhachi maker/teacher Alcvin Ramos from Vancouver, Canada.. We take the tour members through the process of choosing a suitable piece of bamboo according to their needs, and doing initial preparation like aburanuki which is a process of removing the oils and resins from the bamboo and begins the long curing process. We are very pleased to share our time and knowledge with those who seek it out. In this way we are perpetuating this ancient craftAlcvin Ramos from Bamboo-In, Canada

My interest in learning shakuhachi wasn't just to assimilate the tradition, but to use it toward my own interests. I've always been interested and involved in performance and the addition of the shakuhachi to this part of my life was no different. In 1996, I released my first commercial CD recording on my private label Healing Fugu Records with my then bandmates Darby Stands, Kyousuke Yamaoka, Sho Tajiri and Keisuke Hirayama together known as Stands & Cairns. This was a completely original effort that included 9 instrumental pieces that blended western folk/rock aesthetic with what I gleened from my 10 years of shakuhachi study at the time. In retrospect, I think it was a good effort and one that people still comment about favourably. What do you think? You can check it out here.

In Days of Old

Somewhere in the midst of midevil Japan, a sound echoed through the land. It was singular and sweet. It spoke of 'otherness` in a way that other sounds didn't. It held promise and mystery. It caused some to give-up everything in the material world other than a crafted bamboo tube... the shakuhachi. The purveyors of this dream were wandering monks known as Komuso. Practicing an uncommon form of Zen Buddhism brought to the Japanese shores in the 12th century from China, these men went so far in pursuit of their goal of becoming one with the universe as to relinquish their identity to others by donning a basket known as a tengai, that obscured their faces to any onlookers. Though the occurance of such mendicant monks has all but disappeared today, their practice known as suizen and the lure of enlightenment from one sound continues on. It may well be said that a piece of those players of old rests in the heart of every shakuhachi player today regardless of heritage, race or creed.