Bamboo in the Blue Moutains

As if the WSF weren't enough, my friend Kirsty had organised an additional concert, Call of Bamboo, in the Blue Mountains a few night after. I took the train to Katoomba and found myself with freezing temperatures and strong winds. A big change for this Northern Rivers boy. I did manage to have a short trek along the mountain's edge and snap the above picture.

The concert was a great success. It was held at the Carrington Hotel's Ballroom. It was almost sold out. Kirsty did a great MC job with little interesting intros for the pieces. Unfortunately, the bipod of my arms swaying above my head did not produce any publishable pics. I do have the following glimpse of a post concert gathering of the performers and friends as well as a bit of local colour. A major plus for me was a one hour lesson with Kaoru the morning after the concert. Following on from the experiencing of so many great performances, it was the perfect finish to my shakuhachi adventure.



A cute little coffee shop that I wandered into was called Common Ground. The shop is owned the Twelve Tribes Community. They are kind of sixties style jesus freaks. The men all wear beards and the women all dress in long dresses with no make up and long hair. You can learn more about them at this link. http://www.twelvetribes.com/whereweare/global/australia/katoomba.html. A new member came up and talked to me with gleaming eyes. Otherwise, it was a pleasant environment and good coffee. I remember eating at their food venue at the Woodford Folk Festival in Queensland and it was just very good food that time.

World Shakuhachi Festival, Sydney '08

Was it a Dream?

It is only a short time since I returned and, yet, when I look back at my experience, it is so unbelievable.

Imagine that you play a musical instrument. The best players from around the world gather for a festival in Sydney. You are one of a total of three hundred who attend five nights and four days of performances. Is this a dream or what?

I feel the program that I hold in my hand, I look at the photos that I took, I remember new faces and outstanding performances. Perhaps it really did happen. If so, here is my rememberance.


With a sense of excitement, I left the bucolic environment of Byron Shire to fly to the metropolis of Sydney in time for the Rocky Mountains Downunder Summer Shakuhachi Camp and the World Shakuhachi Festival '08.

Now, you may be wondering how this delicate flower could survive eight days in the big city. The answer is The Botanical Gardens. The Conservatory of Music where the camp and festival occurred is located in the Botanical Gardens and the walk from the Travelodge to said venue is possible almost entirely through parks and the gardens. I did venture out into the netherworld of tall buildings, asphalt, crowds of people and vehicle exhaust a few times but I always kept a landmark in sight so that I might make a hasty retreat if I started to feel faint.

(A helpful hint to blend in while in Sydney: In order to appear to be a city person, I jay-walked as often as possible. Very exhilerating and I felt quite sophisticated!)

Before going any further, I must give credit for the photos from the camp to Elliot Kallen. http://www.tweakshop.com/WSF081.html

And, again, Kirsty Beilharz has lent me some of her excellent photos from the festival. http://www.flickr.com/photos/kirstykomuso/sets/72157606395897188/ (I did manage to take a few myself)

The camp was a fun affair in which I got my first taste of mixing with a large number of the my fellow shakuhachi players. Each morning of the camp, the more hearty or unjetlagged gathered in a circle to play the note 'Ro' (ro-buki) in the botanical gardens. Yes, that fellow on the right is yours truly. (So often, I am missing in any candid photos of events. I once saw a photo of the exact part of a gathering at the ranch where I was located and I was not in the photo!)



I don't know the official numbers but I would guess that there were fifty or so attendees for the camp. After the ro-buki, we all would meet in a recital hall at the conservatory for instruction by one of the many teachers. After a break, there would be a large selection of classes during the day for all levels of proficiency. Some classes would learn a particular piece, others would work a particular technique. Not being an absolute beginner, I joined an intermediate class and quickly discovered that I was not there yet. Never mind, I had plenty of very worthwhile instruction to choose from. A bonus of the camp was a lesson with Kakizakai sensei. That fellow you may remember from my previous post whom I call Kaoru and is my teacher in this beloved instrument.


The two fellows standing in this photo are Riley Lee and David Walker. Riley spent the previous two years as the prime mover behind the festival and David is one of the main organizers of the Rocky Mountain Shakuhachi Camp. They and all involved deserve a tremendous thanks for their incredible efforts. David was also the MC during the camp and the festival. He interpreted into Japanese all that was said on-stage during the events. The mind boggled to hear him do his thing. Remembering what had just been said as well as repeating it in another language!

Now the Festival

Mathew Doyle opened the first concert of the festival with his dancing, sticks and didge playing. Then, Riley came on at the back of the stage playing a beautifl piece accompanied by marimba. This segued into a performance by TaikOz.




If you ever have a chance to experience this troop live, take it. It is choreographed drumming that leaves you breathless. You wanna get fit? Join one of these groups.





Inbetween TaikOz pieces, were performances by some of the senior shakuhachi players. Here's a great shot of Kakizakai-sensei playing Yamagoe. Sounded great too.





There were concerts five nights at the City Recital Hall in Angel Place as well as six hours of performances and workshops per day at the conservatory of music. There were several choices all day. The performances occurred in large and small recital halls and I just luxuriated in the music.


The second night's concert showcased some of the less traditional ways to play the shakuhachi.






Here's John Neptune playing jazz with his friend of twenty years on guitar. John uses unusual techniques such as talking into his shakuhachi such as is done with a didgeridoo.


Another performance that evening was live shakuhachi with pre-recorded synthesizer music. The synthesizer music sounded like the bombing of London during World War II. The fellow on the stage was expanding his body to it's limits to prepare to blow notes that were loud enough to be heard. I was so astonished that I forgot to raise my camera. The comment after the performance was, "You have just witnessed suicide by shakuhachi."


Throughout the festival there were many performance combining shakuhachi with western instruments. Here are a couple more examples-














There were pieces that were composed by Zen monks hundreds of years ago as well as a dozen pieces commissioned for and primiered at the festival.








There was a performance by a Japanese National Living Treasure Aoki Reibo. When he was introduced the first day of the festival, he came on stage and said "I'm so thrilled I could dance" and struck a Saturday Night Fever pose.


There was a competition of under forty year olds with the finalists performing live in the conservatory concert hall. The winner was a sixteen year old Japanese girl. The future for the shakuhachi sounded very bright when listening to such great performances by those young players.

My days were spent enjoying the performances in the small recital halls at the conservatory. Experiencing the shakuhachi in such an intimate setting was a real treat.

Here is Tadashi Tajima; a man that I heard for the first time at the festival.





Here he is accompanied by four women on koto. A large group of koto players were in attendance. The koto has thirteen strings (the bass has sixteen) and each string has it's own movable bridge. Sometimes the performer would move a few bridges during a pieces. The music from a koto is beautiful and the players left me in awe.




I could go on and on and I wanted the festival to go on and on but there came that final night. We all climbed aboard the party boat, broke open the barrel of sake and sailed away.