Making The Japanese Shakuhachi Flute: Priests of Empty Nothing
Making The Japanese Shakuhachi Flute: Priests of Empty Nothing
Ken LaCosse The shakuhachi is a deceptively simple ancestor of the shakuhachi called a hitoyogiri was first
Japanese bamboo flute. With only five finger holes and played by Japanese begger monks about the 9th-11th
a sharp, angled blowing edge, it is capable of produc- century.
ing both sounds of simplicity and vast complexity. Its
efficient design provides a player with a level of subtle In the 17th century, the shakuhachi was played by
tone control found in no other flute. By adjusting the wandering priests called komuso (priests of empty
blowing angle or by partially covering the finger holes, nothing) who wore large baskets over their heads to
its basic pentatonic scale can be expanded to include symbolize their otherworldliness. Komuso membership
slides, halftones, quarter tones as well as subtle micro- greatly increased during the political upheavals of this
tones. Historically, the shakuhachi has a connection to time. Some were attracted by the free and easy role of
Zen Buddhism. In its religious context, it is played not the traveling komuso monk. Others were drawn by its
for entertainment, but as a way of Blowing Zen. developing Zen theology and its utilization of music
as a means to enlightenment. The movement gradually
The deceptive simplicity of the shakuhachi can also be developed into a recognized sect of Zen Buddhism. The
found in the experience of constructing one. In it’s most popular legend of the komuso is that they were granted
basic form, the shakuhachi can be made in minutes. In exclusive rights to play the shakuhachi if they acted as
it’s most complex form, it can take months or years secret informers for the government. They are also said
of diligent labor before a flute is considered finished. to have originated the use of the dense root section in
Regardless of approach, shakuhachi making can be their flutes as a means of self defense.
used as a tool to practice the appreciation and wonder
of paradox in all things.
1 cm.
4 mm.
2 cm.
Total Length = 54.5 cm.
Blowing Edge
#5 (Back)
Drilling the Fingerholes
3.6
#4 The holes should be drilled with a 3/8” forstner bit. Other drill bits tend
to splinter the bamboo. To enlarge the holes to the proper diameter,
Nodes
use a 1/4” dremel tool sanding disk and/or sandpaper wrapped around
a 1/4” drill bit blank. Used with a drill, the latter works very well for
5.6
finish sanding the holes. Refer to the hole measurement diagrams for
#3 hole placement. If the length of your flute is not 54.5cm, you can use
the following formula:
5.2
Mark the holes on the flute and begin by drilling hole number 1. Test
Smallest Bore blow, then enlarge the hole until the tone is raised to its proper pitch.
Dia. = 1.45 cm.
Conically widening the hole wall as it approaches the bore will improve
Reverse Taper
the higher octave tone. Slightly bevel the top edge of the hole. This will
make it easier to play notes which require partial hole covering. Repeat
12.1
these steps for the remaining holes. Keep in mind that each hole drilled
will slightly flatten the pitch of the holes below. To compensate, the first
hole can be tuned a bit sharp, the second less sharp, the third less sharp
than the second, the fourth less sharp than the third, and the fifth on exact
1.8 cm.
pitch. This tuning method is tricky at first, but after a few attempts you
get the feel of the degree of compensation needed.
If you are happy with the sound of your flute, there is no more work to Fine Tuning the Bore
be done. It’s finished! It may be all that you want and need in a flute. It Fine tuning the bore is the main challenge in con-
may also inspire you to make another, or experiment with other sizes. structing a quality shakuhachi. It is a combination
of mathematics, luck, educated guess, intuition,
If you are inspired to continue making flutes, you may eventually be patience and perseverance.
drawn to enter the soul of the shakuhachi; the bore.
This process is, essentially, adding and/or prefer-
ably removing space along various areas of the
bore until all the tones play well. The actual space
along the bore that will need to be removed or
Critical Points along the Shakuhachi Bore added will most likely be minute, but nonethe-
less, critical to the potential sound quality of the
instrument.
3/4 1/2 1/4 Hole Each note has corresponding ‘critical points’ along
the bore which can be adjusted to affect the tone.
For the low octave notes, these points are found
at the 1/2 point between the blowing edge and
the open hole of the note being played (1/4 & 3/4
points for second octave), as well as directly under
First note D (all holes closed) the open hole. If a particular note is not playing
well, it can be corrected by adding or removing
space at one or more of these areas. To check if
3/4 1/2 1/4 Hole space needs to be added, fold up a small piece of
wet newspaper (approximately 1 1/2” by 1/2”)
and apply it to the 1/2 point in the bore. Play the
flute to check for tone improvement. (A long split
bamboo stick with foam rubber tied to the end
works well to slide the newspaper to the desired
spots.) If it improves the tone, the newspaper can
Second note F be removed and the area can be built up with a dab
of glue and sawdust or paste resin. If there is no
tone improvement, try adding newspaper to the
3/4 1/2 1/4 Hole other critical points. Then try adding in different
combinations, then at every centimeter along the
bore. You can also experiment with smaller or
larger pieces. If there is no improvement after
exhausting all the possibilities, you will need to
remove space at one or more of the critical points.
Third note G Various tools will work to remove space. You can
wrap a thin strip of coarse sandpaper around the
end of a dowel or weld a 1/2” section of a bastard
3/4 1/2 1/4 Hole file to a metal rod. A dremel sanding drum bit
on the end of a long rod also works well. If the
tone improves after grinding one or more critical
areas, stop and move on to the next note that needs
improvement. If there is still no improvement
or the tone sounds worse, the areas will need to
be refilled. It is also possible that a combination
Fourth note A
of adding and removing will be needed. This is
where experience helps. A good rule of thumb is
to exhaust every possible simple solution before
3/4 1/2 1/4 Hole
attempting the complicated combinations. Alter-
ing the critical points for one tone can also affect
the other notes as well so it is important to work
slowly to get a feel of what is happening to the
flute on a whole.
Sixth note D
Making the Japanese Shakuhachi Flute
Ken LaCosse The shakuhachi is a deceptively simple ancestor of the shakuhachi called a hitoyogiri was first
Japanese bamboo flute. With only five finger holes and played by Japanese begger monks about the 9th-11th
a sharp, angled blowing edge, it is capable of produc- century.
ing both sounds of simplicity and vast complexity. Its
efficient design provides a player with a level of subtle In the 17th century, the shakuhachi was played by
tone control found in no other flute. By adjusting the wandering priests called komuso (priests of empty
blowing angle or by partially covering the finger holes, nothing) who wore large baskets over their heads to
its basic pentatonic scale can be expanded to include symbolize their otherworldliness. Komuso membership
slides, halftones, quarter tones as well as subtle micro- greatly increased during the political upheavals of this
tones. Historically, the shakuhachi has a connection to time. Some were attracted by the free and easy role of
Zen Buddhism. In its religious context, it is played not the traveling komuso monk. Others were drawn by its
for entertainment, but as a way of Blowing Zen. developing Zen theology and its utilization of music
as a means to enlightenment. The movement gradually
The deceptive simplicity of the shakuhachi can also be developed into a recognized sect of Zen Buddhism. The
found in the experience of constructing one. In it’s most popular legend of the komuso is that they were granted
basic form, the shakuhachi can be made in minutes. In exclusive rights to play the shakuhachi if they acted as
it’s most complex form, it can take months or years secret informers for the government. They are also said
of diligent labor before a flute is considered finished. to have originated the use of the dense root section in
Regardless of approach, shakuhachi making can be their flutes as a means of self defense.
used as a tool to practice the appreciation and wonder
of paradox in all things.
1 cm.
4 mm.
2 cm.
Total Length = 54.5 cm.
Blowing Edge
#5 (Back)
Drilling the Fingerholes
3.6
#4 The holes should be drilled with a 3/8” forstner bit. Other drill bits tend
to splinter the bamboo. To enlarge the holes to the proper diameter,
Nodes
use a 1/4” dremel tool sanding disk and/or sandpaper wrapped around
a 1/4” drill bit blank. Used with a drill, the latter works very well for
5.6
finish sanding the holes. Refer to the hole measurement diagrams for
#3 hole placement. If the length of your flute is not 54.5cm, you can use
the following formula:
5.2
Mark the holes on the flute and begin by drilling hole number 1. Test
Smallest Bore blow, then enlarge the hole until the tone is raised to its proper pitch.
Dia. = 1.45 cm.
Conically widening the hole wall as it approaches the bore will improve
Reverse Taper
the higher octave tone. Slightly bevel the top edge of the hole. This will
make it easier to play notes which require partial hole covering. Repeat
12.1
these steps for the remaining holes. Keep in mind that each hole drilled
will slightly flatten the pitch of the holes below. To compensate, the first
hole can be tuned a bit sharp, the second less sharp, the third less sharp
than the second, the fourth less sharp than the third, and the fifth on exact
1.8 cm.
pitch. This tuning method is tricky at first, but after a few attempts you
get the feel of the degree of compensation needed.
If you are happy with the sound of your flute, there is no more work to Fine Tuning the Bore
be done. It’s finished! It may be all that you want and need in a flute. It Fine tuning the bore is the main challenge in con-
may also inspire you to make another, or experiment with other sizes. structing a quality shakuhachi. It is a combination
of mathematics, luck, educated guess, intuition,
If you are inspired to continue making flutes, you may eventually be patience and perseverance.
drawn to enter the soul of the shakuhachi; the bore.
This process is, essentially, adding and/or prefer-
ably removing space along various areas of the
bore until all the tones play well. The actual space
along the bore that will need to be removed or
Critical Points along the Shakuhachi Bore added will most likely be minute, but nonethe-
less, critical to the potential sound quality of the
instrument.
3/4 1/2 1/4 Hole Each note has corresponding ‘critical points’ along
the bore which can be adjusted to affect the tone.
For the low octave notes, these points are found
at the 1/2 point between the blowing edge and
the open hole of the note being played (1/4 & 3/4
points for second octave), as well as directly under
First note D (all holes closed) the open hole. If a particular note is not playing
well, it can be corrected by adding or removing
space at one or more of these areas. To check if
3/4 1/2 1/4 Hole space needs to be added, fold up a small piece of
wet newspaper (approximately 1 1/2” by 1/2”)
and apply it to the 1/2 point in the bore. Play the
flute to check for tone improvement. (A long split
bamboo stick with foam rubber tied to the end
works well to slide the newspaper to the desired
spots.) If it improves the tone, the newspaper can
Second note F be removed and the area can be built up with a dab
of glue and sawdust or paste resin. If there is no
tone improvement, try adding newspaper to the
3/4 1/2 1/4 Hole other critical points. Then try adding in different
combinations, then at every centimeter along the
bore. You can also experiment with smaller or
larger pieces. If there is no improvement after
exhausting all the possibilities, you will need to
remove space at one or more of the critical points.
Third note G Various tools will work to remove space. You can
wrap a thin strip of coarse sandpaper around the
end of a dowel or weld a 1/2” section of a bastard
3/4 1/2 1/4 Hole file to a metal rod. A dremel sanding drum bit
on the end of a long rod also works well. If the
tone improves after grinding one or more critical
areas, stop and move on to the next note that needs
improvement. If there is still no improvement
or the tone sounds worse, the areas will need to
be refilled. It is also possible that a combination
Fourth note A
of adding and removing will be needed. This is
where experience helps. A good rule of thumb is
to exhaust every possible simple solution before
3/4 1/2 1/4 Hole
attempting the complicated combinations. Alter-
ing the critical points for one tone can also affect
the other notes as well so it is important to work
slowly to get a feel of what is happening to the
flute on a whole.
Sixth note D
The Shakuhachi Society of B.C.
Shakuhachi Fingering Chart www.bamboo-in.com
Hassun 1.8
Go
no
Tsu Re Chi Hi I Ha
Kan register
Otsu register
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Special
notes ~/~.. •.•-~· _- ftl : :
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Pronunciation Ro = roh Ri = ree Hi = hee -t Chu-Meri t Chu-Kari D partially close this hole fo r Meri
Tsu= tzoo U = oo Ha= hah Octaves Unless indicated otherwise, Ro or Tsu Notation
after Ri are played in Kan register. U Meri fl' Kari !Ql optionally closed
Re = ray Ru = roo
Chi = chee I = ee .Lil. Dai-Meri (.) optionally open
Ne San Yon Ni
Meri example no no no no
u Ha Ra A Ru
~ Re u Hi Ha
x
(~~'~ x
~
1-r
~
v ~
J) o.· ~"> (?) 7 Jk ~ iv ~· ~ ~ t7!.x ~ ~-
~~>
~ Fingering
• • • • • • 0 0 0
• • • • • • • • • • 0
; i
for special
notes
II.Lil. JJ
~ ~
llJ. -!. -!. -!.
~ ~< =
-!. -.], t
~ ~
llJ. .!,
; ~ ; ; ~ i • I~
llJ. JJ JJ t JJ JJ -!. t
w.mejiro japan.com
www.mejiro-japan.com
List of Tools
【Items with product numbers 尺八図解
3
The ground work for making the shakuhachi is the fushinuki (removing the inner nodes).
Using a ring auger, gari-bou, and saw, you will remove the 7 nodes.
It takes a lot more strength than it seems, so you need to be careful when using a ring auger.
1
Using a stainless steel or
plastic ruler, mark a line
on the front of the
bamboo. The finger holes
will be opened on this
line, so please be careful.
2 The bottom of the bamboo is called the
kanjiri. A shakuhachi normally has 7
nodes, so the extra nodes are to be cut off.
3
File the bottom with a rasp. Do so until
the surface becomes smooth. The next node should 4 Using a saw, cut the utaguchi (mouthpiece)
remain, so be careful not to file too much.
line.
5
The upper side is thicker than the lower side.
This extra width is crucial in making the utaguchi.
7
Stabilize the bamboo with a vise. Use a ring auger to remove
nodes. Be careful with the bamboo’ s shape, as it is generally
curved.
8 9
In order to take off the node at the center,
Parts where the drill and ring auger cannot reach
you might want to use a gari-bou with the
are removed with a gari-bou. Remove the bamboo
curved rod as shown.
dust constantly while you work.
10 11 12
Draw a straight line horizontally Cut diagonally according to File the surface.
across the top. the line as shown.
13 14 15
Measure the diameter. File with sandpaper on a
File off inside the hole. round-edged piece of wood
It should be approx. 20-21mm.
to make a nice arc.
16 Draw a line as shown with 17 File the utaguchi with 18 Check the top side after filing.
a triangle ruler. This is for an utaguchi rasp. It is cut precisely according
an acrylic plate to be inserted later. to the marking.
③ Utaguchi Making Pt.2 The utaguchi shown here is caled Kinko style.
Tozan style looks like a half-moon shape.
19 20
Cut the acrylic plate. Attach the insert with
There should be no gap glue.
between the bamboo Super glue is preferred.
and the insert plate.
21 22
Cut off the extra acrylic Finish the inside edge
with a saw. Do so only with the hanmaru
after the plate is fully (’ half-circle’ ) rasp.
attached.
23 24
Finish the utaguchi by This is the Kinko
utaguchi. Other styles
sanding. Do not take
are called Tozan and
off too much of the
Myoan.
surface. An utaguchi line maker
from Mejiro is useful.
3
www.mejiro-japan.com
25
27
Mark the center of each finger hole circle
with an awl. This becomes the target to drill.
28
In order to open holes precisely and vertically,
use a vice to stabilize the bamboo.
Using an electric drill on a stand is
highly recommended.
29
Make detailed adjustments
with a small knife.
⑤ Tuning Tuning is only possible for those who can play the shakuhachi.
The following is a simple outline of the tuning process.
30
You will need a bowl of water and several pieces of
newspaper (2cmx2cm). By using a long stick or chopstick, you
will place the wet newspaper pieces on the interior wall.
*Before using the actual lacquers or epoxy, take
several wet pieces of newspaper and apply them to the
interior walls. By doing so, you will know where to
add some epoxy,* if necessary, for accurate tuning.
Repeat this process every time you check the tuning,
building up the interior of the bore as necessary in
order to achieve the correct tuning.
31
On a wooden plate, mix the tonoko powder: 4 parts powder to
1 part water. Then add sejime urushi to the kneaded powder.
Do it quickly as urushi gets hard fairly quickly once exposed
to air.
32
33
Place the urushi mixture made above inside
To dry off urushi, it takes 2-3 days in
the shakuhachi. Generally, put a small amount
summer, 5-7 days in winter. When it is
near the mouthpiece and spread it with a flat
completely dry, grind with the gari-bou.
bamboo stick.
34
After it is fully dried, you will need to firm the lacquered part
by applying sejime urushi. This is called “Jigatame.”
Depending on the tuning outcome, you should repeat the
process in steps 31 to 34.
www.mejiro-japan.com
©2009 Mejiro Co., Ltd. All rights reserved.
5
www.mejiro-japan.com
35 36
Place the un-dried shakuhachi into a closed Use water-resistant sand paper.
container for drying. The container needs a Add water to prevent dust.
high level of humidity(50%--60%), so it is Protect the other shakuhachi parts with tape.
better to also place a wet towel inside,
not touching the shakuhachi.
37 38
Use particle size #120 to #1500 sand paper, Wipe off any water left after step 37.
starting from the low number (coarse) to Add some oil or Mirror compoundand
high number (fine). Sand it approx. 320 times. polish the kanjiri again.
*Very special thanks to Chris-san for proofreading & giving me advise on this document-Saori
6
SHAKUHACHI FACT SHEET
The shakuhachi is a Japanese bamboo flute, still used today by Buddhist Zen monks
as a meditation tool. Also popular in the past with samurai warriors, its eerie sound
is heard in Japanese folk and classical music. The sound of the shakuhachi is
quintessentially Japanese – it is one of those instruments (like the bagpipes maybe)
which have a strong emotional link with national identity.
The shakuhachi is a heavier, thicker instrument than the Chinese flute from which it
originally evolved. With a hefty bamboo root left intact at the foot, it has even been
used as a weapon of self-defence by Buddhist monks performing for alms in the
street. The mouthpiece is a wide, crescent-shaped notch – this very open design
works together with the five large finger holes and the wide, lacquered bore to
produce the shakuhachi’s characteristic ethereal tone and gusts of breath.
Traditionally the player aims at the sound of the wind blowing through a decaying
bamboo grove.
Clive Bell studied the shakuhachi in Tokyo with the respected performer and
composer Kohachiro Miyata.
(SHAKUHACHI FACT SHEET continued)
The standard size is called 1.8 (“one point eight”). The name “shakuhachi” is a description of the
length: one shaku and eight sun. There are several other sizes for playing in different keys.
The lowest note on the standard shakuhachi is D next to middle C.
The range is two and a half octaves.
Not all the notes are equal. The scale made by opening one hole at a time is: D F G A C. The
remaining notes are made by half-holing, and may sound weaker. The difference in tone colour
between the notes is one of the points of interest in the traditional music.
Two pentatonic scales used in Japanese music are: D F G A C, and D E flat G A B flat.
Notes are not tongued, but articulated by fingering, as with traditional Irish flute. Phrases tend to
be ornamented in ways that are learned orally from a teacher. The shakuhachi has its own notation
system based on “kana” syllables. Each note is represented by a syllable, something like the
Western doh-re-mi system. Koto and shamisen have different notation systems.
More information:
Japanese Music And Musical Instruments, book by William Malm, published by Tuttle 1959.
http://www.shakuhachi.com/ Monty Levenson’s site.
http://www.shakuhachisociety.eu/index.html European Shakuhachi Society.
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Euroshak/ list started by Kiku Day, UK-oriented.
http://www.mejiro-japan.com/ Japanese website, with English section, based in Mejiro, Tokyo.
Instruments, sheet music, CDs. I bought a shakuhachi at this Tokyo shop in 2003.
CLIVE BELL
clive.bell@tesco.net
www.clivebell.co.uk
See discussions, stats, and author profiles for this publication at: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/320729288
CITATIONS READS
0 36
2 authors, including:
Tamara Kohn
University of Melbourne
70 PUBLICATIONS 246 CITATIONS
SEE PROFILE
Some of the authors of this publication are also working on these related projects:
All content following this page was uploaded by Tamara Kohn on 31 October 2017.
I become in the sensation and something happens through the sensation, one through the
other, one in the other.
senses of emotional and physical well-being. The project aimed to answer these
questions:
1. How are people’s daily lives structured by sound in urban Japan and, in
turn, how is human agency manifested in sonic practice?
2. How have people’s understandings of sounds and silences in their daily lives
changed over time, especially given their recognition of sonic environments
as important communicative sources of information?
3. How do sonic practices in Japan affect people’s senses of emotional and
physical well-being?
to sound. The recordings, we felt, were ironically both richer and poorer for their
disentanglement from the ‘noise’ of the other bodily senses, thoughts, feelings
and emotions that actively making the sounds involved. We want, however, not
just to observe these differences here, but to figure out a way to account for them,
to begin to identify a vocabulary to interrogate their significances and to be able
to include what we learn in our ethnographic sensory toolkit.
Anthropologists are now very interested in sonic studies (as this volume
demonstrates) but we are still struggling to find ways to capture the nuances,
both in terms of describing different qualities of sound and in terms of recogniz-
ing the very different levels of experience that our own bodies in practice and
those of our informants encounter. Interesting ways of thinking through these
experiential nuances have been developed in other disciplines such as music stud-
ies, art, geography, physiology and philosophy. The relational aspects of being in
sound, for example, whether it is between a body and its instrument or between
a body and other bodies and material surroundings, has been a productive space
to explore in music, dance, art theory and human geography. Terms such as
‘sounding’ (Brown 2006), ‘proprioception’ (Montero 2006), ‘haptic sensation’
(Rebelo 2006) and ‘kinaesonics’ (Wilson-Bokowiec and Bokowiec 2006) have
been adopted and adapted in various cases to help explain this relationship.
Such terms have been embedded within creative projects including soundscapes,
soundwalks and sound art/installations.
Finding a paucity of studies focusing on sound in anthropology, Samuels
and colleagues have argued that anthropology’s ‘entwinement with histories of
technology, aesthetics, and mediation has led it to a critique of representation in
the visual field while largely neglecting issues of sound, recording and listening’
(2010: 339). They go on to suggest that ‘ethnographers could bring aural sensi-
bilities to the worlds inhabited by the people with whom they work and consider
those sounded worlds as more than performance genres to be extracted from their
contexts’ (ibid.).
But ‘aural sensibility’ can refer to many things. It includes what Schafer
named the ‘soundscape’: a total acoustic environment that encompasses audible
sounds as well as a sense of history and cultural context (1977). It also speaks to
what Feld referred to as ‘acoustemology’ – attending to people’s ‘sonic way of
knowing and being in the world’ (see Feld and Brenneis 2004: 462). Additionally,
the aurally sensitive ethnographer needs to develop what Clifford has called ‘the
ethnographic ear’ (1986: 12). But where is the ethnographer’s own experience of
a sonic environment that they too become a part of, placed against the mission to
attend to others’ experiences?
We would suggest that there is a clear sense of purpose to more effectively
share ‘other’ people’s experiences in most sonic/sensory ethnography. Such per-
spectives offer a view that emphasizes the relational aspect of sonic practices. This
takes into account a Bakhtinian view of the dialogical nature of the relationship
30 ■ Tamara Kohn and Richard Chenhall
The empirical examples we introduce in the next sections based on our own
participation within aikido and shakuhachi practice environments in Japan will
allow us to think about how a ‘sounded anthropology’ (Samuels et al. 2010)
can consider and compare awarenesses to sounds as they are produced as well
as to the ‘cleaner’, recorded sounds extracted from the messy conditions of their
making. We want to think about what practical methodological issues we need
to be ‘attuned’ to here (no pun intended). We also want to theoretically inter-
rogate the relational aspects of sonic production, to consider how ‘being in’ (the
production of sound) also entails ‘being with’4 (other bodies and objects). The
first example in the next section takes us to a place of disciplined and rigorous
bodily training where vibrations and sounds of movement and interaction are
distinctive (to the trained ear) but not necessarily consciously attended to.
Sounds from an Aikido Mat
Aikido is a Japanese martial art that is practised in a training hall or other space
called a dōjō. A number of different recording clips taken in and around differ-
ent dōjōs in Japan can be found and played at our online repository. The brief
introduction to the history and form of practice that is offered later in this section
makes some reference to one of these clips recorded in Tokyo, entitled ‘Hombu
Aikido Dojo with Doshu’.5 When this recording was played to an Australian
work colleague without any contextualizing hints or explanations, he listened
carefully and said: ‘popcorn noise’. He chose to use the word ‘noise’ rather than
‘sound’ – a description that often serves to separate the unknown from the known
audible worlds (see Attali 1985). For any listener, however, who has experience
with the martial art of aikido, the known, familiar sound of training in the record-
ing may powerfully evoke emotions and memories and practical knowledge, and
attending (as ethnographers) to that evoked and reflective experience shared by
the other could, in itself, be interesting for a study of the sound’s socio-cultural
life. If we added to the disembodied recording a picture or two and a descriptive
text, then anyone (within or outside of the aikido community) could get a closer
understanding of the ‘soundscape’. We would suggest, however, that this may
still not be enough.
We want to consider how sonic ethnography both is and is not served by
attempts to collect, share and represent sonic moments in any kind of recorded
medium (and in this case we are critically referring to our own sonic repository).
Before explaining any limitations, it is important to note that recordings of the
sonic world are extremely useful for more than just producing an archive. We
would not have invested so much time in the development of the sound reposi-
tory if we did not believe this. Recordings (nowadays made digitally) may be of
educational and historical benefit by salvaging contemporary sounds for a future
that might sound quite different. They may be used as objects for cultural illus-
tration; they may be compared to sounds ‘captured’ in other places or recorded
32 ■ Tamara Kohn and Richard Chenhall
Aikido practice is always paired with partners alternating their role as either
tori (the one practising the aikido defensive techniques) or uke (the partner who
receives the throw through rolling and/or breaking their fall). The predominant
‘popcorn’-like sounds audible in the Hombu recordings are the sounds of ukemi
– the sounds uke makes in contact with the mat for falling and rolling safely. To
Being in Sound: Reflections on Recording while Practising Aikido and Shakuhachi ■ 33
enter Hombu dōjō, remove one’s shoes near the door, don practice clothes7 in a
changing room and then enter the matted space, kneel and bow at its edge and
stretch quietly to get ready before the class begins, is to leave the rest of the world
(of work in the city, commuting, home life) behind and to dedicate one’s body
and mind to the intensity of training.
As such, the dōjō is understood as a special space that feels different. One
senior teacher at Hombu spoke about the special atmosphere – the special quality
of ‘air’ – that a teacher strives to produce on the training mat with students. This
air, he suggested, is invisible but found also in nature: the air you might find in a
church or temple. The sound of training, then, is a product of movement and can
be felt in the air of the dōjō. The senses work together through movement and are
thus often indistinguishable on the mat – ‘feeling’ air, therefore, is understood to
be part and parcel of the sounding of the training space.
In the Hombu recording, the chief instructor, Ueshiba Mitsuteru, the grand-
son of the founder (and known as the Dōshū), is in the midst of teaching his
regular 6.30am class. He begins the class with rituals of bowing; next he leads
students in a series of stretching exercises. Then students rush to the edges of the
mat to watch him demonstrate a basic aikido technique with one of his uchideshi
(live-in students) for a few throws. The students then pair off to practise what they
have absorbed from the demonstration. Shortly after participating in this training
session, Kohn reflected in writing on her sensory memories from that class:
The partner who bowed to me on that morning was a young, fit uchideshi.
His pace felt too fast for my ageing, stiff body at first; I could hear and
feel my heart beating deep in my chest and my breath clutching for suste-
nance in order to get up and go again after each throw. I felt the energy of
contact with my partner; I felt the power of his throw vibrate through my
body. I then heard my own slapping of the mat only as part and parcel of
the repetitive feel of the mat’s sting on my palm and forearm. Frequently
I heard sounds that helped me sense the potentially dangerous proximity
of other bodies whirling and rolling around me in a very limited train-
ing space (due to the large number of practitioners that day). The sound
became one entangled part of my zanshin (martial awareness), honed after
more than twenty years of practising. This awareness is framed in martial
discourse as ‘ten-direction eyes’, but it is just as much about hearing as
it is about seeing. It relies on proprioception – the awareness of one’s
own body in space, as well as a felt awareness of other bodies in one’s
immediate space. It is relationally meaningful. Being in this sound as it is
sounding is about feeling through the eyes, ears and fingers. Being in this
sound as a practitioner is to attend to the sounds that are related to one’s
own and to others’ bodies moving in space. The recording was made by
our research assistant who sat with the audio-recorder just off the mat. To
34 ■ Tamara Kohn and Richard Chenhall
listen later, from a safer, less dynamic space and to hear the recorded per-
cussive, ‘popcorn-like’ sound of mat slapping seemed both totally familiar
but also totally bereft of the feeling and aurality of being in the sound
when training. And yet, despite the disembeddedness, an aikido teacher
who listened to the recording with me also picked up subtle nuances
in the sounds that my ear had ignored in training – the crispness and
urgency of the ukemi sounds spoke to him of an accomplished level of
training – a very different quality to a beginners’ class or to the sound of
ukemi in his dōjō in Australia. As for me, I was genuinely surprised to hear
sounds of chatter and laughter from some of the old, senior men who
train in one corner of the Dōshū’s class every morning. That wasn’t meant
to be there – no students are meant to talk while training in Hombu
senior classes – one learns by seeing and feeling and through years of
repetitive bodily practice. But the recorder didn’t lie – the talking did
take place, but it was not in the sounded space of my training – it didn’t
imprint itself on my aural consciousness – during that class.
What is clear from this excerpt of notes and reflections is that every ‘hearing’
is partial and shaped on the mat by circumstance, by necessity, by the body’s
total sensory awareness of itself in relation to others, as well as by expectation. It
is also clear that thinking about different ways of engaging with sound is poten-
tially fruitful in considering how to add sonic experience(s) to our ethnographic
toolkit. The philosopher Jean-Luc Nancy, in his treatise on listening, draws on
the distinction in the French language between ‘listening’ (écouter) and ‘hear-
ing’ (entendre), suggesting that the latter term encompasses both hearing and
‘understanding’ (2007). He challenges philosophy to rethink the act of listening
(to music) without necessitating a search for understanding. He asks: can senses
merely resound without meaning? If the answer is yes, then perhaps the differ-
ent actors in the above dōjō recording scenario can be considered with some
reference to the different possibilities that being with/near or being in training-
sound affords. To ‘listen’ with all one’s being, according to Nancy, is to bypass
the search for meaning and allow for bodily senses to resound (ibid.). Kohn’s
reflections from the aikido mat suggest that through the contact with a partner
and the sensation of falling and rolling and feeling other bodies’ proximity, she
is listening in this resounding way. To listen fully in that moment is to absorb
a throw and feel the concomitant sensual resonances of movement and contact
with things and other people.
The attention to a recording after the event, however, is where people with
differently educated ears struggle for meaning. Is it popcorn noise? ‘I hear pop-
corn’, says the outsider to the practice, while a teacher, perhaps, who has embod-
ied many years of aikido training and teaching, hears something much closer to
the mark, filtered through many memories of being in that sound. He knows
Being in Sound: Reflections on Recording while Practising Aikido and Shakuhachi ■ 35
instantly the sounds of ukemi and then listens for meaningful nuances that tell
him something about the intensity and the style and the quality of that training.
It is only the actor within the sound that is truly free from the search for meaning
in those moments because of the complexity of the sensory realm: the relations of
sight, touch/vibration and sound – the as-it-is-ness of their training.
It is relevant here to note that sounds in aikido practice are produced from
the exertions of the body interacting in space and are unremarkable (that is,
not usually worth talking about) until they are remarkable (until they stand out
somehow – e.g., sound wrong, sound inattentive, sound chatty, sound uncon-
nected). The sound is never perceived as a product or object of practice, but a
consequence of it. The mat is slapped to break a fall; the breath is heavy to fuel
the body. The sounds emerge from these activities and a well-trained teacher can
include sound in her sensory understanding of how people are training, but it is
not understood as a product or object in itself and most beginners will not make
note of the sounded nature of training. Some other practices, however, reverse
the order – the body must train itself to produce the right sort of sound. Sound
is one purposeful product (even if it is never a finite product) – it is what people
outside of the training remark on and what the beginner hopes to produce. The
next section introduces the second of our sonic practice environments to offer a
different empirical, reflexive example for this chapter.
Sounds from a Shakuhachi Lesson
The shakuhachi is a Japanese end-blown flute made from bamboo. The shaku-
hachi became popular in Japan during the seventeenth century when it was
associated with a Buddhist sect called the Fuke-shū, although the shakuhachi
has a much longer history in Japan stretching back to the twelfth or thirteenth
century (see Lee 1992; Linder 2012). This sect replaced sutra chanting with sui
zen (blowing zen on the shakuhachi) and the sect went on to attract samurai who
became itinerant preachers known as the komusō (priests of emptiness). Wearing
large baskets over their heads (tengai) to symbolize their detachment from the
world, the aim of the komusō was to obtain enlightenment through a single tone,
ichi on jōbutsu (Deeg 2007: 30). While the komusō have all but disappeared,
what remains of their sonic practice is an ensemble of traditional pieces called
honkyoku (original pieces).
Gaining the right pitch in shakuhachi is very difficult, given that this is deter-
mined by embouchure and the angle of the player’s airstream for which there are
no preset positions. Learning pitch is a matter of remembering the sound of the
correct pitch, which is reinforced by the individual reproducing his or her own
specific bodily positions to achieve the same pitch consistently. The way in which
a player holds and adjusts their body in order to play the shakuhachi is vital to
the production of sounds that are then judged in terms of their sonic quality
by a teacher. Body skills in shakuhachi playing include awareness of breath and
36 ■ Tamara Kohn and Richard Chenhall
resonating around the room. I can feel my own flute vibrating and incor-
porating the sound of my teacher’s flute. In the recording, this presence
is not captured in the same way that I felt it. We can hear two flutes; one
is louder than the other but the vibrational resonance, as I experienced it,
is lost in the recording. While making the recording, I become conscious
of my own sound when I make a mistake and it jars against the sound
my teacher makes. Other times, I am caught up in the movement and
rhythm of the sound production. At times it feels like I am not con-
nected to the sound production at all and in that moment I lose focus
and make a mistake; I am brought back to the struggles in my own body
about forming the sound. It’s difficult to hear this in the recording, even
for me when listening to this later. I hear some technical mistakes, but
not the internal struggles I was experiencing. A passive listener would be
more likely to focus on the tone and melody rather than the relational
qualities of the two players.
some connection to the sound that I held previously. Rather than the
perception of being moved along by the sound I am now struggling to
move it forward. After I have finished, my teacher encouragingly states:
‘Very good, very good but . . . but . . . you have not quite understood the
piece, I did not feel it. One more week, I think’.
The teacher here may well be referring to his student’s ability to either
express or give meaning to the performance of a specific piece. Expression has
been variously defined; for example, Newcomb states that ‘expressiveness results
from the metaphorical resonances or analogies that a viewer-listener-reader finds
between properties that an object possesses and properties of experience outside
the object itself’ (1980: 625). Expression is, then, a result of the intrinsic proper-
ties of music but also of the metaphorical resonances these properties have for the
listener. With titles such as Yamagoe (crossing a mountain) and Daha (pounding
waves), each honkyoku piece carries with it a specific story that has some expres-
sive value. Yamagoe, a composition from the Kyushu region, literally refers to
going over a mountain, but in Japanese this title is interpreted as overcoming dif-
ficult obstacles. This in turn has been related to the discovery of the self-limiting
idea of life and death in Zen Buddhist philosophies, experienced through over-
coming severe obstacles in life (International Shakuhachi Society 2016a). Daha,
often translated as ‘breaking of the waves’, represents self-discipline and the will
to break all ties to terrestrial life to attain enlightenment (idem 2016b). There is
a large body of literature about the expressive aspects of music around the world
(see for example Kivy 1980; Newcomb 1980). Kivy sees music as expressive of
emotional life because it bears structural resemblances to emotional life. Others,
such as Howard (1971), have objected to this ‘isomorphic’ theory of music and
emotion, arguing that just because one thing is identified as similar to another
does not mean that one is a sign of the other. Newcomb summarizes these vari-
ous arguments in his article ‘Sound and Feeling’ and emphasizes that music has
specific expressive resonances founded upon its musical properties, but these
resonances are interpersonal and part of a ‘shared enterprise that is culture, as a
way of transmitting, changing and adding layers’ (1980: 638).
Referring back to the above descriptions of ‘listening’ to the sounds of aikido,
a trained shakuhachi player listens to the music in a different way to a novice,
informed by the layers of understanding embodied through sustained, commit-
ted practice. Listening to a recording of sounds of practice with a well-trained
ear affords nuanced interpretations. However, listening with one’s training/
playing body in the production of sounded movement and music reaches beyond
interpretation towards a multisensorial as-it-is-ness, as illustrated through both
examples we have offered in this chapter. Chenhall’s recounting of the sensation
of being ‘outside’ of the music demonstrates Nancy’s (2007) mode of ‘listening’
with all one’s being, rather than simply ‘hearing’ the technicalities required in
Being in Sound: Reflections on Recording while Practising Aikido and Shakuhachi ■ 39
the body to produce the sound. In putting to one side the search for meaning
through hearing music, the act of listening creates the very ‘feeling’ or ‘under-
standing’ that the shakuhachi teacher refers to in his comments to his student.
And the committed practitioner sees how such bodily training contributes to
the development of one’s personhood – one’s growing sense of self and other in
the cosmos more generally. For the shakuhachi player, at least in principle, this
training is directed towards capturing the essence of the original honkyoku pieces
by the Zen Buddhist monks, in order to achieve enlightenment through the one
or eternal sound.
Reflections
So, what is the sound of shakuhachi? Is it the sound captured in a recording? Is it
the vibrational aesthetic felt by the player, or the feelings evoked in the listener?
Is it in our analytic reflections on all of these things? Similarly, we can ask: what is
the sound of aikido training at Hombu dōjō? The popping sound of the mat slap-
ping? The sensations of sound in a training body? The reflections on the various
associations that the sounds may evoke in many who listen to the recording over
the years? Or all of these? If part of our aim (as sonic ethnographers) is to share
the embodied experience of being in sound, what is the best way to represent
this? What are the relations between player and instrument, player and teacher,
player and environment that inform various qualities of sound? How can we
capture and share those multivocal qualities of sound that are holistically embed-
ded in the sensuous, vibrating body in motion? How can we better consider how
auditory knowledge is variously expressed by practitioners and by listeners with a
range of practical knowledge and with different sensitivities?
In posing these questions at the last hurdle, we are not expecting to find (nor
offer) simple answers. Gerschon (2013: 259) argues that ‘representing sounds
sonically’ gives the producers of sound an important voice, allowing the listener
to experience an affective quality of the sound and helping to retain information,
such as tone and tenor, that would be lost when translated to text. However,
what we have found is that we must not be fooled into thinking that our sounded
recorded data is a total reality. Like texts, a recording is one possible represen-
tation, around which an interpretative act is framed. Jonathan Sterne argues
that a sounded ethnography embraces ‘sonic imaginations [that are] necessarily
plural, recursive, reflexive, driven to represent, refigure and redescribe’ (2012: 5,
cited in Gerschon 2013: 259). We extend this to our own work to say that the
multivocality of sounded data is an important addition to the repertoire of our
sounded ethnographic methods. Our two examples highlight how involvement
in the production of sound may be relationally and physically felt and listened
to differently in situ than it is when extracted from a site and heard apart from
the multiple sensations that produced it. Involvement in this production extends
beyond experience and reportage as it embraces the practitioner and affects her
40 ■ Tamara Kohn and Richard Chenhall
sense of being. To be in sound is, as the quote by Deleuze reminded us at the start
(Deleuze 2005 [1981]: 31), to become through the sounded practice.
The two examples of sonic practice in this chapter illustrate how learning to
‘be and become in sound’ is a key tool for ethnographers who are also practitio-
ners – listening through the ears and pores is part of our habitus, as part of our
training, as part of our sense of being in and feeling vibration and movement
in the sounding space. It requires deeply holistic ‘somatic modes of attention’
(Csordas 1993: 138), as well as a fair amount of individual sensory ‘inattention’
to some details in the sonic environment. Because sounds are embodied, both in
their production and in their perception, they allow for the creation of a shared,
collaborative intimacy between humans and places. This intimacy can be force-
ful when the slap of a mat reverberates around the fallen uke or it can be gentle,
seductive even, when the sounds of shakuhachi float through the air – when
teacher and student’s melodies intertwine with ‘vibrational affect’ (see Gerschon
2013). Being in sound affords a bodily awareness to an often-jumbled totality of
sensations. If we can increasingly recognize these nuances in our own practices
then we should at least have a better sense of what is required to interrogate other
people’s bodily and sonic experiences.
Acknowledgements
We would like to acknowledge the Australian Research Council for funding this
research (Sonic Practice in Japan – DP130102035) and also to thank Carolyn
Stevens (coresearcher and lead investigator for the project) and the volume edi-
tors, Evangelos Chrysagis and Panas Karampampas, for their helpful comments.
In addition, Chenhall would like to thank Kaoru Kakizakai of the International
Shakuhachi Kenshukan, and Kohn extends her grateful appreciation to Dōshū
Moriteru Ueshiba, Dōjō-cho Ueshiba Mitsuteru and other instructors and
administrators of the Aikikai Foundation and Hombu dōjō, and Yoko Okamoto
Shihan of Aikido Kyoto, for their support of our project.
Notes
1. See also Chapter 10 in this volume on the ‘multisensual’ in Ambonwari emic expressions of
song-dance experience.
2. http://sonicjapan.clab.org.au. Accessed 9 April 2016.
3. Note that all italics within quotes in this chapter appear in the original source.
4. See phenomenological discourse on different states of (social) being, especially Nancy
(2000) on the fundamental state of ‘being with’.
5. https://soundcloud.com/sonicjapan/hombu-aikido-dojo-with-doshu. Accessed 9 April
2016.
6. For example, the recordings made at Hombu dōjō in Tokyo and those made at Iwama
dōjō in Ibaraki Prefecture contain very different sounds representing somewhat different
styles, different instructors and different practice cultures around vocalization (or not). At
Iwama, practitioners vocalize with a sound called a kiai, that comes from their centre/belly
or hara upon contact (e.g., gripping or striking) or when throwing a partner. These usually
begin with a vowel sound as in ‘eeeeup!’ or ‘aiiuuup!’, etc. At Hombu, in contrast, students
attempt to train ‘silently’ even if they are still engaging their centre and extending their ki
(life energy) in the movement.
7. These clothes include the white robe (keiko gi), a white or black belt depending upon rank,
and, for yudansha (students with black belts), hakama (pleated and long skirt-like trousers
in black or dark blue cloth).
8. https://soundcloud.com/sonicjapan/shakuhachi-lesson. Accessed 9 April 2016.
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An Analysis of Form:
The Concept of kata
in Japanese Traditional Music
Introduction
Background
The shakuhachi (尺八, see Plate 1) is a vertical end-blown bamboo flute, possibly with
roots in the ney, an ancient flute made of reed. The ney is a commonly used instrument
in Central Asia, and it has a history that goes back to the third millennium BCE.1 The
ney is probably related to the Chinese xiao.2 In Tang dynasty China (618–907) the most
commonly used flute was the chiba, the Chinese reading of the characters 尺八, and the
supposed ancestor of the Japanese shakuhachi.3 The name of the instrument refers to
its standard length: shaku (chi in Chinese) is a mensural unit of length, and hachi (ba in
Chinese) means ‘eight,’ referring to 8 units of length sun, which is a tenth of a shaku;
the standard length is thus one shaku and eight (hachi) sun,4 which in today‘s measures
is approximately 54.5 centimetres. This corresponds to a tuning in D. Even though the
name asserts a length of 1 shaku 8 sun, the shakuhachi is available in various lengths,
from 1 shaku 3 sun up to 3 shaku or longer, each with a different pitch and timbre. The
pitch changes half a step with each sun, up to approximately 2 shaku 2 sun, but the
actual length for any given pitch may vary also depending on the thickness of the bore
and other aspects.5
The shakuhachi has a long history in Japan; it is historically proven that it came to Japan
in the eighth century by way of the Korean kingdom Paekche.6 Some later sources indicate
that it may have entered the country already in the sixth century, but the chiba seems to
have been revived from an older instrument in the early Tang dynasty China, probably
around the 630s. In Japan the shakuhachi was used at the court, as an instrument in the
court music ensemble for around 150 years, but even after that it seems to having been
played – typically – by male members of the court. In medieval times it may also have
been used by mendicant monks, but this cannot be substantiated until the early sixteenth
century. It was employed in music forms preceding the Nō theatre, but it was not included
in the ensemble of this stage art. In 1512 the shakuhachi is mentioned in a treatise on
court music, some 700 years after it was abolished from the court music ensemble. In
this treatise, the author claims that the shakuhachi should not be
regarded as a popular music instrument, but rather as a court music
instrument.7 The shakuhachi is, however, most widely known as
an instrument used by a certain group of Zen monks, who were
officially acknowledged as such in the late seventeenth century.
The present study examines the repertoire that began to develop by
the hands of these monks – the so-called komusō – and attempts
a new approach to the analysis of phrases in this music.
The music for the shakuhachi can be divided in two major
groups: the true or fundamental repertoire that developed during
the Edo period (1603–1867), so-called honkyoku, and other ‘outer’
styles of music, so-called gaikyoku. The ‘outer’ repertoire comprises
a vast array of music, from the chamber music of the Edo period
(commonly referred to as sankyoku, but a more precise term would
be jiuta-sōkyoku), to modern compositions and ensembles with
instruments from other music cultures. In this article, however, I will
concentrate on the fundamental repertoire, the honkyoku, since it
is a repertoire of mainly solo music for the instrument.8
Today there are a number of lineages or schools of shakuhachi
playing, most of which began to develop as formalized styles during
the late nineteenth century. The oldest extant of these styles is the
Kinko-ryū, where the word ryū, literally meaning ‘stream’ or ‘flow,’
stands for a certain line or lineage. This style developed after the
first Kurosawa Kinko (1710–1771), and its repertoire was canonized
in the early nineteenth century.9
Plate 1:
The shakuhachi
used by the author
The Notion of Form (kata), and its Relation to Motif and Phrase
Nishiyama Matsunosuke, an important historian of Edo-period culture, expounds in
detail his notion of prescriptive forms as the very basis for traditional arts. He holds that
the Way of Art, geidō, is something that differentiates Japanese traditional art forms from
those in all other countries or cultural areas.
The prescriptive elements of an art form are presumed to be contained in a number
of stylized forms, kata, which are what a student will learn. The kata prescribe the bodily
movements inherent in the art. Nishiyama argues that kata, the prescriptive forms, exist as
intangible forms but not as physical patterns. He argues that kata can be seen in Zeami’s
notions of various levels of mastery of the Nō art: they constitute a certain principle of
action, which each individual has to find for him- or herself.11 By repeating the kata, one
has to discover one’s own principle of action, in accordance with the kata.12 This would,
of course, imply that one’s own principle of action is not by necessity exactly the action
prescribed by the kata, but rather an action that is to a certain degree in accordance with
the kata, yet at the same time not inconsistent with one’s own natural way of acting out
the kata. I believe that this idea is crucial for a more open or varied perception of phrases
or motifs in honkyoku. I return to this issue in the analyses below.
To learn the forms of an art is, however, not the only thing that is required. Nishiyama
holds that within the kata there is also kokoro, i.e., ‘heart,’ ‘spirituality’ or ‘mindfulness,’
which makes the kata come alive, in order to become great art: “[T]he kata actually
contains also kokoro at its depth. If one really masters the kata, the kokoro, together with
the kata, will be in one’s own bodily possession.”13 Nishiyama does not specify how and
when the spirituality or artfulness, kokoro, of the art develops, and I assume that it would
be a question of sensitivity and aptitude for the art, and much less of the ability to learn
the patterns that are prescribed. Nishiyama holds that one of the advantages with kata
is that, by learning the intangible patterns, anyone will be able to bring forth a minimum
requirement of a fair reproduction of the piece, play, or whatever art form it is. Nishiyama
discusses the notion of kata in relation to Nō, but he concludes that irrespective of the
Way of Art – the geidō – in question, the principle is exactly the same even if there are
differences in regard to names and ways of doing it.14
The well-known musicologist Kikkawa Eishi holds that the system of kata is a unique
feature of Japanese arts, but his notion of kata differs from Nishiyama’s: Kikkawa views
kata as a structural element, which has kept the form of the music and other kinds of art
intact. Tsukitani Tsuneko, another musicologist and an outstanding scholar of shakuhachi,
also uses the term kata in her analyses of shakuhachi honkyoku, and in Tsukitani’s writing
the term seems to denote structural patterns that coincide with motifs. I believe there
are strong similarities in the way Kikkawa and Tsukitani employ this term in relation to
the structure of a piece. Kikkawa, however, places emphasis on kata as an unchanging
element, whereas Tsukitani’s conception of kata does not seem to go beyond the factual
existence of patterns in the notated score.
Tsukitani discusses kata on the level of motifs, as well as representative kata for
a complete piece. She holds that the formation of motifs is related to how these phrases
are performed, in terms of rhythm, tempo, and dynamics, i.e., in my understanding on a level
of what we may refer to as ‘sound phrases.’15 The canonization of the repertoire within
the various sub-divisions of schools that began to develop from the 1870s included major
changes in how the pieces were performed. On the other hand, the structural elements
of the pieces, in the way that they were notated, are not prescriptive per se; the structure
indicates identity, but a discrete realization of a piece is part of an enactment of that piece,
and as such, it is dependent on the surrounding context.
13 Ibid.
(その「型」というものは、実はその奥に「心」が封じ込まれている。だから「型」をほんとうに体得すれ
ば「心」は「型」とともに、躬をもって所有することになる。).
14 Ibid., 47.
15 Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 145.
Kikkawa gives a large number of examples of kata in Japanese music, ranging from
court music and Nō to the popular art forms of the Edo period, for example, the music in
Kabuki and the puppet theatre.16 Since the present study is centred around the instrumental
shakuhachi music, I omit his discussion of order of performance in Nō, the vocal parts
of recitation in Nō, the order in which music and dancers appear in the court music, and
so on. In direct relation to music, Kikkawa asserts that there are identifiable kata in the
melody lines of the song and the instruments. For example, in the epic genre gidayū-bushi,
there are forty to fifty different kinds of kata. From this limited number the composer would
“select and arrange the kata” so that they blend musically with the instruments and the
vocal lines. The performer should attempt to merge him- or herself with the kata, and
“what should be respected is not the outer form, but the spirit of the kata.”17 Even if this
statement sounds similar to the word kokoro used by Nishiyama (see above), Kikkawa’s
generic discussion of kata relates to the research on shakuhachi music conducted by
Tsukitani Tsuneko.
Tsukitani uses the term onku to denote what she considers to be the smallest melodic
unit. She differentiates between these onku and the larger units gakku. The latter is
a common musical term in Japanese, denoting a musical phrase. A gakku can consist of
one or several onku, where each onku is ideally performed in one breath.18 In her analyses,
Tsukitani at times implicitly uses the notion of ‘form’ or ‘pattern,’ and also at times talks
about kata. For example, she states that:
In Kinko-ryū … the number of different individual sounds and variation of pitches within a mo-
tif is small. Occasionally there are sound patterns that contain a greater number of individu-
al sounds, but even in these cases the sound patterns are divided in performance into several
[smaller units] (by adding breathing spells), and the whole piece will sound as a succession of
motifs of equally long duration.19
Additionally, she refers to patterns at the end of pieces, in which case she also uses
the word kata.20 It seems as if she envisages units, sound patterns, that are larger than
motifs (onku), but smaller than phrases (gakku), although sometimes it seems that the
terms ‘sound patterns’ and ‘motifs’ are used more or less synonymously.
Based on my own learning process and practical performance experience I have come
to believe that it would be musically interesting to define explicitly ‘intermediate size units’
in the music, units that are smaller than Tsukitani’s ‘motifs.’ I believe that these smaller
units are an important aspect when analysing the transmission of the honkyoku tradition,
and that furthermore they make an important contribution to the understanding of the
music. I also believe that ‘motif’ is a somewhat misleading concept since it has a more
rigid definition in Western (art) music, and I am not convinced that this term is directly
applicable to the honkyoku. What Tsukitani refers to as onku (motifs) are complete sets
of sounds. The word on refers to a ‘sound,’ and ku refers to a ‘phrase’ or a ‘clause,’ and
I would prefer to refer to these onku as ‘sound phrases’ or simply ‘phrases.’ In traditional
music the word fushi is commonly used to refer to a complete set of sounds, and I find
this to be an alternative term.
Tsukitani’s thorough and comprehensive research indicates the existence of a limited
number of ‘sound phrases.’ Analysing thirteen of the thirty-six Kinko-ryū honkyoku, Tsukitani
found a total of 1,078 sound phrases, consisting of 356 different kinds. That means that,
on the average, one in every third phrase was of the same kind. The number is greater
than the forty to fifty kata to which Kikkawa referred as being used in gidayū-bushi, but
the idea of arranging a number of fixed forms in a certain order is the same.21
Kikkawa and Tsukitani seem to regard kata as structural and tangible elements that
constitute the building blocks of an art form, and here I firstly and primarily regard kata
as structures in music. The music is created by arranging a limited number of kata in
a certain order. The order in which the kata unfold is of course the structure of the music,
giving a certain piece a context-independent existence. However, a certain form should
be performed in the way that the transmitter/teacher prescribes. If we assume that the
word kata has a definable meaning, and if we regard – as does Nishiyama – the kata as
intangible entities that implicitly contain certain prescriptive elements, then the structural
elements – such as onku in Tsukitani’s terminology – are not kata.22
The following section is an attempt to analyse the actual sonic and notation material,
to see if we can reach such a conclusion. Conversely, if Tsukitani’s onku are synonymous
with kata, then there seems to be no room for the prescriptive elements that Nishiyama
perceives as being implicit in the kata.
21 Ibid.,
133–134. Because of the relatively limited number of kinds of sound phrases, it is almost impossible
to ascertain, simply through hearing, what piece, or what part of a given piece, is being performed at any
given moment, something that Tsukitani also concludes. I believe that this is also a reason why the pieces
tend to be long: it takes time to create the right atmosphere of the piece with the relatively limited number of
building blocks.
22 For
a thorough discussion of the process of transmission, see Linder, Deconstructing Tradition in
Japanese Music, Chapter 8, 2012.
Analysis
1. What is a Phrase?
I will commence this discussion
by giving an example of how the
sound clusters I analyse are built. To
begin with I will assume that each
‘package’ of sounds can be referred
to as a ‘phrase,’ such as the one in
Figure 1 (a), as already mentioned
above. For those who are not familiar
with shakuhachi notation I have added
some comments indicating how this
phrase is constructed.23
Figure 1 (a): Kinko-
Firstly, the shakuhachi notation is ryū notation, based
rudimentary; it constitutes a simplified on the Miura notation.
representation of the basic structure Calligraphy by Satō
Ryōko in Linder,
of the piece, for example, the two Kinko-ryū Shakuhachi
syllabic characters pronounced tsu Honkyoku, p. 223.
(E♭) and ro (D) in the example to the
right.24 Secondly, apart from this basic structure, notated with the syllabic characters,
repetitions are marked with auxiliary symbols, for example, a tone-bending repetition
(nayashi) as in the example (the wave-like symbol). Thirdly, the Miura notation is one of
the more detailed, and some ornaments are notated, such as passing microtonal ornaments
and phrase ending ornaments: here we have a tone-bending ornament between the two
structural tones, and a tone-bending ornament at the end of the phrase. These ornaments
are not always played by Yamaguchi as they are written; at times they may be excluded, or
exchanged for other ornaments. Even if there is no ornamental mark, Yamaguchi would, at
times, add an ornament. Fourthly, the rhythm is notated with dots on the right and left side
of the vertically written notation, and the time elapses from side to side, like a pendulum.
In this example, the phrase begins on the left side, where the tone with the fingering
for a lowered tsu is played. The tone is held, while adding a pitch-altering ornament, until
one reaches the right side. On the right side the tone with the fingering ro is played. Each
right-left or left-right move represents half a beat.
23 For a more complete discussion of various techniques used in shakuhachi playing, see Linder, Notes on
Kinko-ryū Shakuhachi Honkyoku, 2011.
24 This tsu represents an F on a standard-length shakuhachi, but by default this fingering is played ♭♭, which
is referred to as meri (lowered). There is a symbol to indicate a lowered pitch (メ), but this is often omitted as
is the case here.
The next symbol represents a type of repetition called nayashi, where the pitch is
lowered half a step on the left side beat mark, and then the pitch is returned in a glissando.
In the example there is no mark on the left side after the second right-side mark, which
is positioned immediately to the right of the nayashi repetition. In such cases a virtual
left-side mark is imagined, the pendulum swings to the left side and then flows back to
the right side.
The phrase ends on the left side, after the third and last right-side beat mark. A phrase
ending ornament is notated, indicating a bending of the tone: the pitch is dropped and
the tone is cut off.
The first tone is articulated with a finger attack. A breath is taken before the nayashi
repetition, but the phrase obviously continues and ends with a typical ornament where
the pitch is dropped.
Assuming that each beat has an even time value, the phrase would look something
like this in Western notation:
In actual realizations of this phrase the situation is, however, quite different. Figures 2–4
show three different performance enactments at different stages in the development of
Yamaguchi Gorō’s art, and Figure 5 displays an enactment for transmission purposes.
Left side (tsu) Right side (ro) Breath Repetition begins Phrase ends
The first half beat, from the left side to the right side, is four and a half seconds long.
The second half beat, from the first right-side beat mark to the unmarked left side (the
virtual left-side beat mark), has a duration of five and a half seconds. There he takes
a breath for two and a half seconds, and begins from the unmarked left side to the end
of the phrase. The phrase ends on the left side, after the last right-side beat mark. The
whole phrase contains ten half-beat counts, and is twenty-two and a half seconds long.
In an older recording, Recording 1 (Figure 3), the same phrase looks like this:
Left side (tsu) Right side (ro) Breath Repetition begins Phrase ends
Figure 3: Analysis of the example phrase performed. “Hi-fu-mi Hachi-gaeshi no Shirabe,” Recording 1.
As we can see here, the time interval is similar, but the whole phrase is four seconds
shorter. On the other hand, the total time is slightly more than twenty-four seconds in the
radio broadcast, Recording 2 (Figure 4).
Left side (tsu) Right side (ro) Breath Repetition begins Phrase ends
Figure 4: Analysis of the example phrase performed. “Hi-fu-mi Hachi-gaeshi no Shirabe,” Recording 2.
Finally, the recording from the “lesson” where Yamaguchi is singing the notation:
Left side (tsu) Right side (ro) Breath Repetition begins Phrase ends
Figure 5: Analysis of the example phrase taught. “Hi-fu-mi Hachi-gaeshi no Shirabe,” Recording 4.
The breath is circa one second, which is remarkably short compared to the performance
enactments in Figures 2–4, but the total length is similar to Figure 3. Figures 2 and 4 are
similar, and both are longer (22–24 seconds) compared to Figures 3 and 5 (18–19 seconds).
The phrases that appear in this piece are approximately between eight and up to
thirteen or fourteen seconds long if there is no breath prescribed within the phrase. In
the example we have just seen, and generally in the style of Yamaguchi, there is normally
a breath before a nayashi repetition, except in a few pieces with a more accentuated
rhythm and faster tempo. Other phrases contain breathing intervals as a formalized pattern.
Phrases that include a breath – or in more rare cases two or more – tend to be around
twenty seconds or longer. The point I wish to make here is that the length of the sound
clusters, the subtle and detailed ornamentations, their marked beginnings and ends, all
make such ‘clusters’ eligible to be called phrases rather than motifs. Before proceeding
to the integral parts of these phrases I will present two more examples in Figures 6 and 7
below, one shorter and one longer phrase.
This phrase consists of two structural sounds, as in the first examples (Figures 2–5)
above. The phrase is articulated with a strong and rather long grace note (B♭) and an
attack before reaching the C.
The grace note comes from below, but the attack adds almost like a grace note above
the C.25 A portamento-like slide is added, aiming towards D before reaching the A♭.
This final tone is first lowered and then returned to its original pitch. Even if this phrase
is shorter, less than half the length of the above examples, it is complete in itself with
a distinct beginning and an obvious end.
Let us now examine the longer phrase, which measures some thirty seconds. It contains
a series of nayashi-like repetitions, and therefore includes breathing intervals.
25 The attack is generated by quickly opening and closing the rear hole, which creates a very short un-
notated D.
The circled part is the same as in Figure 1, but here the phrase
continues. What should be noted, however, is that the attack on the
initial structural note, the microtonal ornament, and the attack on the
second structural note are the same or very similar. Again, it would
be possible to leave out an attack, but the microtonal meri-komi
ornament between the first two structural notes will not be omitted.
Therefore, I find this ornament to be a recurring pattern, whereas the
attacks are more left to the will of the performer. The timing and the
execution of a pattern may vary to some degree, but the pattern itself
is always there, normally as part of the ornamentation of the phrase. Figure 9 shows an
example of a standard phrase that can be executed in different ways. In Figures 9 (a) – (d)
I give examples of four different patterns used together with the same structural notes, and
I would regard them as four differently patterned executions of one and the same phrase.
Figure 9 (a)
The tsu (E♭) is held for a longer period. A deep and extended microtonal meri-komi
ornament is added between the tsu (E♭) and the re (G). This pattern creates a heavy
atmosphere; there is plenty of time to reflect over the initial E♭, and the intermittent F
may be shorter or longer in order to impart a weaker or stronger sense of anticipation of
the G. The tempo is slower over the whole phrase, and a slightly longer breath is taken
before the nayashi repetition.
Figure 9 (b)
The tsu (E♭) is held for a shorter period.. A shallow and swift microtonal meri-komi
ornament is added between the tsu (E♭) and the re (G). This pattern also allows for
reflection on the initial E♭, but it creates a less heavy sensation. The intermittent F is not
sustained for too long, since that would hinder the forwards movement, towards the G.
Figure 9 (c)
The tsu (E♭) is held for a longer period.. There is no microtonal meri-komi ornament
added between the tsu (E♭) and the re (G). This pattern creates a strong feeling, but
without the meri-komi there is no sense of stopping or reflecting; with a strong attack
on the intermittent F, it creates a sense of a dynamic forward movement, towards the G.
Figure 9 (d)
The tsu (E♭) is held for a shorter period. There is no microtonal meri-komi ornament
added between the tsu (E♭) and the re (G). This pattern is the lightest of the four. A less
accentuated attack on the intermittent F compared to pattern 9 (c) imparts an energetic
and light, almost cheerful, touch.
Figure 10 is an example of how the different patterns described in Figures 9 (a) – (d)
can be used in combination. This section is from the piece “Kyūshū Reibo.” Personally,
I would here use the patterns 9 (a), 9 (b), and 9 (d) for the tonal interval E♭ – G. The last
phrase is the same as in Figure 1 (apart from the extra repetition after the nayashi), and
has the function of concluding this set of phrases. The transcription is from Yamaguchi
Gorō (Victor, 1999), and he is using the patterns I suggest, but with a less deep drop of
the E♭ pitch in 9 (a). All in all, a soft and gentle transition is enacted through the first two
phrases, becoming slightly more vivid in the third phrase where the whole passage peaks
on the A♭. The entire section finally reaches its conclusion in the last phrase (E♭ – D).
The duration is almost fifty seconds.
Figure 10: Example from “Kyūshū Reibo.” Yamaguchi Gorō, Victor Japan, 1999.
From this I believe we can reach a preliminary conclusion that patterns constitute
a formalized application of ornamental techniques, and as such they are prescriptive in
character. However, patterns are applications of technique, which means that they are not
discrete units. We can analyse a technique, for example meri-komi, and state that meri-
komi means that you abruptly drop the pitch approximately half a step, and then gradually
return the pitch to what it originally was. As a performance technique it is a discrete entity.
However, in actual performance enactments the patterns need something to be applied
to, namely a phrase. A phrase is made up of one or more structural notes, which makes
it a structural entity and as such it has an outer form.
To recapitulate the notions of kata among the Japanese scholars mentioned in the
introduction: My understanding is that they have quite different definitions of the word kata.
Tsukitani looks at motifs and counts them as they appear in the notation. Kikkawa also
counts kata, but he also admonishes us to respect the spirit of the kata, not their outer
form. At the same time he finds kata to be the unchanging element of Japanese-made
traditional art forms. Finally, Nishiyama views kata as intangible prescriptive entities that
lead us to the correct bodily movements, and as such, it is they that constitute art, and
not the physical objects that are the result of these movements.
If we transfer these ideas to my preliminary discussion above about what phrases and
patterns are, I believe we can reach a more final statement: Patterns are formalized ways
of applying certain performance techniques to existent phrases, which are structures with
an objectively definable outer form, consisting of one or more structural notes. Patterns
therefore constitute kata in Nishiyama’s and maybe also partly Kikkawa’s apprehension,
and phrases constitute kata in the way I believe that Tsukitani uses the word. The notion
of kata seems to dissolve into two essentially disparate meanings.
3. Phrases as Patterns
In rare cases it seems that phrases can appear as patterns within longer phrases. I will
give one example, in Figure 11, the four opening phrases of “Kyūshū Reibo.”
Figure 11: Example from “Kyūshū Reibo.” Yamaguchi Gorō, Victor Japan, 1999.
The first phrase, which consists of the structural notes B♭ and C, is played for eleven
and a half seconds. The second phrase, which consists of the same notes but with
a slightly varied timing, is played for six and a half seconds. Then the third phrase consists
of the same tonal material, repeated five times with a gradually increasing tempo and
a ritardando on the final note. Finally the same phrase is played once more, similar to the
first phrase, but this time for approximately ten seconds. I think it is fair to say that the
third phrase consists of a repeated pattern, which in itself appears as phrases 1, 2, and
4, with slightly varied timing and intonation. It is rare that a phrase appears as a pattern
within a larger phrase, but the same thing occurs, for example, in the opening of the piece
“Shizu no Kyoku,” nevertheless with different tonal material: C – A♭ – G.
The entire section is almost forty-eight seconds long, and it constitutes an excerpt
with an obvious beginning and a soothing end. It comes after a two minute long section
almost entirely in the low register, and with its dynamic opening it signals something new.
The piece “Hi-fu-mi Hachi-gaeshi no Shirabe” is two pieces joined together (“Hi-fu-mi-
chō” and “Hachi-gaeshi”), and this section constitutes the opening of “Hachi-gaeshi.”
The section that follows directly after it consists of one phrase – in my definition of
the word – consisting of E♭ and D in the third octave, and that phrase is followed by
a section that is almost identical to the section in Figure 13, except for the articulation
of the initial C.
Phrase 1 is intonated with a very powerful attack on the B♭, which then slides up
to a C. Phrase 2 aims higher, and moves from the C up to a D in the third octave after
a longer trill. The first two phrases thus exhibit a strong upward movement. The third
phrase begins the downward movement, going from a dynamic C down to an A♭, which
has a coarser texture than the crisp and clear tones of the two first phrases. This phrase
fades out slowly, but the same pitch is taken up in the next phrase, in which the rough
texture of the tone is kept intact. The A♭ of the final phrase is followed by a G, which
fades out in a way that is similar to the previous phrase, but with a slightly rising pitch at
the end, as a recollection of the previous tone. The G is here played with a fingering that
requires a lowered chin-position, resulting in a breathier sound (u meri).
Another example of analysis of a larger section is that in Figure 10 above. The section
that precedes the example is played in the low register, and consists of a number of
phrases with subtle changes in tone colour and texture. Its ending phrase is the same
as that of the example, in the low-keyed voice of the tones E♭ – D. The three phrases
that follow all describe an E♭ – G pattern, which creates a sense of upward and forward
movement. The section proceeds from stronger and slower to lighter and (slightly) faster,
ending with the concluding E♭ – D pattern again. Each of the three E♭ – G phrases
begins with a rougher texture (E♭) and goes to more clarity (G), since the half-holing that
is required for the E♭ – by its very nature – results in a sound that lacks in clearness,
with a rather rough edge. The G is here played with an open-hole fingering (re), different
from the G (u meri) mentioned above, resulting in a more clear tone. The A♭ is also on
the coarse side, but less so with the fingering used here (chi no meri); there is another
fingering that will give a more subdued sound (u). In the third of the four phrases, a breath
is taken before the final G, which means that the sound of A♭ fades out before a rather
powerful G, played with an F as a grace note. The texture of each phrase in this section
thus moves from rough to more clear, from quiet to loud, and the three-fold repetition of
the E♭ – G pattern enhances a sense of moving or starting up.
The sections described here are what Tsukitani refers to as ‘phrases,’ but to me these
larger sections sound more like statements, or episodes; sections with a beginning and
an end, stories told in approximately 60 seconds.
She states:
... [D]ifferences between lineages have existed from the past, but you can find differences also
within a lineage, and even the same person may play differently in different concerts, so these
divisions [between phrases] are absolutely nothing that is firmly fixed.27
Figure 14 (b): The first two phrases of “Yūgure no Kyoku” performed by Yamaguchi Shirō. Unknown date.
The main difference between father and son lies in their respective ways of interpreting
the first phrase. Yamaguchi Shirō takes the F up to a G, which is not even notated as an
ornament. Yamaguchi Gorō, on the other hand, uses a rather unusual downward glissando
(suri-sage) when moving from F to E♭.
Figure 14 (c): The first two phrases of “Yūgure no Kyoku” performed by Yamaguchi Gorō. Victor Japan, 1999.
The difference in the first phrase is remarkable. Here Yamaguchi Gorō extends the
glissando to more than five seconds, with a heavy vibrato added that ceases as he reaches
the E♭. The phrase ends with a prolonged meri-komi that concludes with a portamento-like
slide upwards. The timing of the drop and return of the pitch is also quite different in
these two enactments.
One could argue that the instruments have changed to facilitate the subtle ornaments
and extended tone in the Yamaguchi Gorō recording, but the instrument he was using was
made by Yamaguchi Shirō. It seems likely that Yamaguchi Gorō’s way of playing these two
phrases was more a matter of taste. An older undated recording exhibits the same patterns.
These patterns are the way Yamaguchi Gorō would teach as being correct, and this
is what I learned. He himself must have learned the way his father played, so somewhere
along the line he made the changes that now have become the ‘standard’ way of play-
ing. This is indicative of the presence of something we could call ‘idiosyncrasies.’ An
idiosyncrasy may become the hallmark of a performer, and from this a set of idiomatic
expressions develops. The idiomatic expressions then become part of the patterns used
in various phrases, and eventually a new kata appears.
Concluding Discussion
The aim of this article has been to suggest ways of analysing, perceiving, hearing,
thinking about, and talking about the pieces performed in the shakuhachi honkyoku tradi-
tion. I have used only one of many extant lineages, one that is known as a refined, highly
formalized and heavily ornamented style, but which in my opinion is one of the most abstract
and dry interpretations of honkyoku. Regardless of its dryness, as with any musical genre,
an analysis is not merely a matter of structure, and not merely about the content that we
experience as listeners, but a mixture of the two. I believe, therefore, that a full analysis in
fact requires a deeper understanding of the cultural context, the background of a piece,
the performer of a piece, as well as of the piece’s sonic aspects.
The structural analyses conducted by Tsukitani are extremely thorough, but in my
opinion not fully in accordance with the musical content. This does of course not mean that
Tsukitani did not have the necessary knowledge of the contextual and cultural background.
On the contrary, she was one of the most knowledgeable scholars of shakuhachi.
It is nonetheless my belief (and understanding) that the musical motifs that she regards
as the smallest melodic units can and should be further analysed. Smaller parts of the
same units – what I refer to as patterns and idioms – are also important in a more organic
understanding of the music. They carry musical relevance. Furthermore, in my understand-
ing of the music, each of Tsukitani’s motifs are more complete ‘statements’ than the word
‘motif’ suggests; they are of such length that I find the word ‘phrase’ to be more suitable.
I believe there is a need for a terminology that better reflects the complex structure of
phrases in shakuhachi honkyoku, and by using the Japanese language as the fundament for
the terms required I will suggest a set of words that can be used to indicate the different
elements of the music that I have discussed above.
The Japanese word ku (句) means a ‘phrase,’ a ‘clause,’ or an ‘expression’ consisting
of two words or more. In that respect onku (音句) would translate as ‘sound phrase’
as mentioned above in the Introduction. The word fushi (節) is already commonly used
in traditional music – mainly vocal music – with the meaning ‘melody,’ but it roughly
corresponds in length to the motifs in Tsukitani’s nomenclature, i.e. a part that is sung or
played in one breath, and I find this to be an alternative term in Japanese.
The patterns that I discuss above in the Analysis section describe almost graphically the
outer shapes of the sounds; glissandos up or down, a type of portamento of sliding tones,
sudden drops, and so on, and as such the words for ‘sound’ (oto 音) and ‘form,’ ‘shape,’
or ‘pattern’ (katachi 形) seem most appropriate, thus onkei (音形) for ‘sound patterns.’
The idiomatic expressions are more problematic in Japanese. An interesting term would
be kuse-ne or heki-on (癖音), which directly translates as ‘habitual sound.’ The idiomatic
expressions are so typical for the individual performer that it in many cases is possible
to tell with which teacher a certain performer is affiliated, thanks to the idioms of the
performance. These idioms constitute “the way” the performer/transmitter ‘speaks’; they
are almost archetypical for a lineage or a sub-lineage, and could therefore be regarded
as a ‘mode of expression’ or kankō hyōgen hōshiki (慣行表現方式).
I tend to believe that the larger sections of a honkyoku, which I have referred to as
‘episodes’ above, are more complete musical statements. Sometimes whole sections
are repeated within a piece, and sometimes they appear only once, but they feel akin to
‘themes.’ The Japanese word that comes to my mind is gakusō (楽想), which consists of
the words for ‘music’ (gaku) and ‘thought,’ or ‘idea’ (sō): thus, ‘a musical thought.’
Finally, we have the performance techniques needed to produce the idioms, patterns,
and phrases, which are something I have not discussed to a great extent in this article.
The term is not a crucial aspect in the analysis of structures, but the common designation
that comes to mind is gikō (技巧), where gi (技) stands for technique, and kō (巧) relates
to the dexterity of applying the techniques. The word gikō translates as ‘art’ or ‘skill,’ but
also ‘technique’ in the execution of art. Such performance techniques contain, of course,
prescriptive elements, and to master them is a requirement in order to be able to express
anything more than individual sounds.
Linder Tsukitani
As indicated in the left column, both patterns and phrases may be regarded as contain-
ing prescriptive elements. The word kata is ambiguous, as indicated in the above analysis,
and if any similar word should be applied to the non-prescriptive, purely structural elements,
I believe that katachi, another word for ‘form’ denoting an outer shape, is more appropriate.
The ideas presented in this article are, of course, capable of further elaboration and
development. I trust, nevertheless, that they provide a consistent basis for the analysis of
honkyoku, and possibly for other genres of Japanese music as well.
Bibliography
KAMISANGŌ YŪKŌ (上参郷祐康). “Shakuhachi-gaku ryakushi: suizen no tame ni” 尺八楽略史−吹禅のために
(A Short History of Shakuhachi Music: For the Benefit of Blowing Zen). First published in 1974 as “Suizen:
Chikuho-ryū ni miru fuke shakuhachi no keifu” 吹禅−竹保流に見る普化尺八の系譜 (Suizen: The Genealogy
of Fuke Shakuhachi Seen in Chikuho-ryū), Nihon Columbia Records, November 1974. Shichiku-ron josetsu:
Nihon ongaku ronkō jisen-shū 糸竹論序説 — 日本音楽論考自選集 (A Preliminary Discussion on Strings and
Bamboo: The Author’s Selection of Studies on Japanese Music). Tokyo: Private publication, 1995, 67–119.
KIKKAWA EISHI (吉川英史, 1909–2006). Nihon ongaku no seikaku 日本音楽の性格 (The Character of
Japanese Music). 1979. Tokyo: Ongaku no Tomosha, 1980.
LINDER, GUNNAR. “Kinko-ryū shakuhachi no gaikyoku ni kansuru kenkyū – jiuta gassō ni okeru sōshoku-
sōhō no kōsatsu” 琴古流尺八の外曲に関する研究−地歌合奏に於ける装飾奏法の考察 (Research of Kinko-ryū
Shakuhachi Gaikyoku – A Study of Ornamental Techniques in Jiuta Ensemble Playing). Master thesis, Tokyo
Geijutsu Daigaku, 1997.
———. Notes on Kinko-ryū Shakuhachi Honkyoku: Performance Techniues – Analysis, Classification,
Explanation. Private publication. Lidingö: nipponicom.com, 2011.
———. Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music: A Study of Shakuhachi, Historical Authenticity and
Transmission of Tradition. (PhD diss., Stockholm University, Department of Oriental Languages, March 2012).
Stockholm University, 2012.
NAKAMURA SŌSAN (中村宗三). Shichiku shoshin-shū 糸竹初心集 (Collection for Beginners of Pieces for
Strings and Bamboo). 1664). Shin-Gunshoruijū 6: Kakyoku 新群書類従第六歌曲. (1908). Tokyo: Fukkoku, 1976.
NISHIYAMA MATSUNOSUKE (西山松之助). Geidō to dentō 藝道と伝統 (The Way of the Arts and Tradition),
Tokyo: Yoshikawa Kōbunkan, 1984.
TOYOHARA SUMIAKI (豊原統秋, 1450–1524). Taigen-shō 体源抄 (A treatise on gagaku). 1512. National
Diet Library, Call No. 231-38. Chapter 5, Shakuhachi.
TSUKITANI TSUNEKO (月溪恒子, 1944–2010). Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū 尺八古典本曲の研
究 (A Study of Classical (koten) Fundamental Pieces (honkyoku) for Shakuhachi). Tokyo: Shuppan Geijutsu-
sha, 2000.
Musical Notation
Miura Kindō (三浦琴童, 1875–1940). Kinko-ryū shakuhachi honkyoku gakufu: kenkon 琴古流尺八本曲楽譜
乾坤 (Musical Score for Kinko-ryū Shakuhachi Honkyoku: Volume 1 and 2). 1928–29. Tokyo: Chikumeisha, 1971.
Recorded Music
YAMAGUCHI GORŌ (山口五郎, 1933–99). “Hi-fu-mi Hachi-gaeshi no Shirabe” (一二三鉢返調). Undated
radio broadcast.
———. “Hi-fu-mi Hachi-gaeshi no Shirabe” (一二三鉢返調). In Yamaguchi Gorō, kinko-ryū shakuhachi honkyoku
shinan 山口五郎、琴古流尺八本曲指南 (Yamaguchi Gorō, Manual of Kinko-ryū Shakuhachi Honkyoku), CD set,
Video, and musical notation. Tokyo: Victor, 1991.
———. “Taki-otoshi no Kyoku” (瀧落しの曲), “Kyūshū Reibo” (九州鈴慕), “Yūgure no Kyoku” (夕暮れ之曲), “Shizu
no Kyoku” (志図の曲). In Ningen-kokuhō Yamaguchi Gorō, shakuhachi no shinzui: shakuhachi honkyoku 人
間国宝山口五郎、尺八神髄尺八本曲 (Living National Treasure Yamaguchi Gorō, The Essence of Shakuhachi:
Shakuhachi Honkyoku), CD set. Tokyo: Victor, 1999.
YAMAGUCHI SHIRŌ (山口五郎, 1885–1963). “Yūgure no Kyoku” (夕暮れ之曲). Undated recording.
Lexica
NIPPONICA/OR: Shōgakukan Nihon daihyakka-zensho Nipponica 小学館日本大百科全書 (Encyclopedia).
JapanKnowledge at http://www.jkn21.com.resources.asiaportal.info/.
Oxford Music Online, at http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/.
Gunnar Jinmei Linder (1959) je badatel, hráč na shakuhachi a pedagog. Obdržel titul Ph.D.
z japanologie na Stockholmské universitě, magisterský diplom oboru hra na shakuhachi
na Tokijské národní umělecké universitě, a shihan mistrovskou licenci pro shakuhachi
od Yamaguchi Gorō. V současné době působí jako docent japonských studií na Stock-
holmské universitě.
総説
Daniel B. Ribble
Medical Humanities, Kochi Medical School
Kochi University
Abstract
The shakuhachi and the tin whistle are two aerophones which have developed independently in cultures
at the opposite ends of Eurasia but which share certain characteristics such as being end-blown flutes pre-
dominantly associated with the traditional music of their respective countries, have long historical associa-
tions within their cultures, and have both become increasingly popular instruments worldwide in the last
several decades. Both flutes come from musical traditions where they are played solo as well as together
with stringed instruments, and a flute in the key of D is the one most commonly used in both cultures.
Both come from countries where music traditions have often been handed down within particular families
and share similar playing techniques. In recent years longer flutes of both varieties have been increasingly
used. In addition to similarities, differences in areas such as embouchure, flute materials, music genres and
the contexts for traditional music in each culture make for an interesting contrast between the two instru-
ments.
Introduction rently being made in keys other than the standard one,
with longer flutes of both instruments being made and
The tin whistle and the shakuhachi are two flutes played more frequently in recent years. Both flutes have
that have developed independently of each other at the origins outside of their current cultures, with the shaku-
opposite ends of Eurasia. Today the tin whistle is pre- hachi originally coming from China, and prototypes of
dominantly associated with the music of Ireland and the the tin whistle coming from the European continent and
shakuhachi with that of Japan. Initially one might ask if England. In addition to similarities, there are also sig-
there is any basis for comparison of the two flutes as the nificant differences between the two flutes, the musical
instruments come from societies that are quite distant genres they are used for and the contexts in which they
from each other in terms of culture and geography. At are played as one might expect considering their different
the least one can say that the tin whistle and the shaku- historical and cultural contexts.
hachi are both end-blown aerophones (flutes) strongly
associated with the traditional music of their respective 1. The physical instruments
island cultures and that they have become increasingly
popular instruments worldwide over the last several The name for the Japanese vertical bamboo flute,
decades. “shakuhachi,” refers to an Edo period (1600-1868) unit
Though both instruments are most often identified of measurement called shaku, divisible into 10 sun and
with the traditional music of their respective cultures as the term hachi in Japanese means “eight,” shakuhachi
they are also played in other contexts. Both flutes have a refers to the standard length of the instrument, about 54.5
tradition of being played solo and together with stringed centimeters. In its original form the shakuhachi was a
instruments: the shakuhachi with koto and shamisen, and six hole vertical air reed flute which made its way from
the tin whistle with fiddle and harp. The standard length China to Japan in the 8th century along with other instru-
and most commonly played instrument in both cultures ments which became part of the Japanese court orchestra.
is in the key of D (the note sounded with all the flute According to music scholar William T. Malm, gagaku,
holes covered), but both flutes have been and are cur- the style of music associated with the early shakuhachi in
Japan, was the “earliest significant instrumental form” in
Received 27 February 2009;accepted 5 March 2009. Japanese music (William T. Malm, p. 102, 2000)
Okoh-cho, Nankoku-shi, Kochi 783-8505, Japan
e-mail address : ribbled@gmail.com The shakuhachi has throughout its long history
− 161 −
Daniel B. Ribble
largely been a vertically held notched flute constructed of nickel silver, aluminum, wood or plastic (see photo 2).
bamboo though in the Shosoin, the Imperial repository in Like the original shakuhachi, the tin whistle is a verti-
Nara, there are eight 8th century gagaku shakuhachi, three cally held flute with six holes but of a shorter length of
of which are made of jade, stone, and ivory, and which about 30 cm; the tinwhistle is also referred to by other
bear artificial nodes carved where bamboo nodes would names such as penny whistle and feadan (Fig. 2).
normally be found. These flutes, which were gifts from
China, are from about 34-44 centimeters in length and are
straight flutes with three bamboo (or carved) nodes; they
all have six finger holes; five in the front and one at the
back.
The shakuhachi most often played today is referred
to in an academic context as the Fuke shakuhachi, after
the name of the Zen sect that played it in the Edo Period;
it has only five finger holes with the four holes in the
front separated from each other by about a tenth of the
total length of the flute and a thumb hole at the back of Fig. 2. T
in whistles. The top tin whistle is a conical
the flute at a distance slightly higher up the flute than the flute with a wooden stop (not visible), while the
uppermost front hole. Today’s shakuhachi is made of other two have plastic mouthpieces. The flute
a thicker bamboo and has a larger internal and external in the middle is cylindrical.
diameter than the “archaic” shakuhachi of the 8th century;
it is also characterized by its flared root-end, which is 2. The history of the two flutes
sometimes given a slight upward curve (Fig 1). The Fuke
shakuhachi has three central nodes that correspond to Players of the cuisle or pipe, thought to be a possible
those of the 8th century flutes but also one at the utaguchi progenitor of the modern tin whistle or penny whistle, are
(mouthpiece) and several at the bottom end of the flute mentioned in Irish literature as being present at various
(seven is the aesthetic standard). Today most shakuhachi festivities including events at the King of Ireland’s court.
are hand crafted from bamboo but there are machine pro- The scribes of the late 14th century Yellow Book of Lecan
duced wooden flutes and inexpensive plastic flutes made drew a sketch of the imagined royal banqueting hall of
to look like bamboo. Tara which included cuislinnaigh (pipers) seated next to
schoolteachers, both granted the shin portions of a pig.
In the same sketch, players of the cruit (harp) were given
the shoulder portions of the animal, a sign of higher
status (Ann Buckley, p. 751, 2005). Players of flutes are
portrayed in Irish literature as providers of entertainment
who often played together with string players. Ireland
had an established reputation for instrumental music in
the Middle Ages and several writers claimed that they
were taken from Ireland to Wales for the express purpose
of training Welsh musicians; this appears to be corrobo-
rated by foreign enthusiasts of Irish music such as the
Welsh-Norman visitor Giraldus Cambrensis who noted
Fig. 1. F
uke shakuhachi with flared root ends. Notice the cultural relationship between the two regions in the
the red or black lacquer interiors of the flutes. 12th century (Buckley, p. 759). At the same time period
in Japan members of noble families as well as wandering
Ireland’s tin whistle’s name comes from the mate- beggar priests were playing instruments that were pro-
rial it was originally made from though that is often a genitors of today’s shakuhachi.
misnomer nowadays as many ‘tin’ whistles are vertical The Irish Gaelic terms “cuisle” and “feadan” refer
flutes made of cylindrical brass tubing with a molded to a “pipe” or “ tube,” and early flutes were created by
plastic mouthpiece. The conical tin sheet metal flute with boring out the stalks of plants such as cane or elder so the
a wooden stop is the second most widely used variant of Irish vertical flute like the shakuhachi may have started
the whistle, with six holes, usually in slightly different out as a flute cut from a plant growing in the wild. There
sizes, all cut through the thin metal at the front of the was also the Gaelic term “cuisach,” for a flute made from
flute. There are also whistles of other material such as reeds or cornstalks (Gray Larsen, 2004, p. 59). Though
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The Tin Whistle and the Shakuhachi: a Comparison and Contrast of Two Flutes from the Opposite Ends of Eurasia
the cuisle is commonly referred to in Ireland’s early rating war tales accompanied by the biwa, or Japanese
literature there is little solid evidence available to deter- four string lute. At the same time in Ireland bards or
mine whether it was a straight pipe similar in shape to keepers of tradition narrated historical tales accompanied
the tin whistles of today, a kind of bagpipe, or a combi- by a harp, the brass wire strings of which the musicans
nation of those two varieties of flute (Sean Duffy, 2004, played with their long fingernails. Pipers also played at
p. 347) though there are medieval ceremonial crosses festivities, perhaps at many of the same occasions the
which appear to show musicians playing single and triple harpers performed for but it seems that the players of the
pipe instruments. In addition to being the name for a two instruments had a different status in society, with
flute, the Gaelic term feadan was also used to describe harp players being much more venerated.
a whistling sound. Bone whistles made from the wing The Taigen Sho, a musical encyclopedia of the
bones of swans and other large birds have been found early 16th century, written by the musician Toyohara no
in archeological excavation in Ireland, principally from Muneaki (1450-1524) in 1512 notes that shakuhachi of
excavations of 12 th century Norman ruins in Dublin, various lengths were played in the 16th century and con-
pointing perhaps to a Viking origin for some of the early tains the first graphic representation we have of five hole
Irish flutes (Fig. 3). According to Ann Buckley, some of bamboo flutes, instruments pictured as being made from
these flutes were probably duct or fipple flutes, operating pieces of bamboo with a single joint; in later years these
on the same principle as today’s tin whistle (Buckley, p. flutes made from a single bamboo joint would be referred
775). Duct flutes have a mouthpiece with a duct or air to as hitoyogiri, literally “single section cut,” and were
passage that serves to guide one’s breath to the instru- about 1.1 shaku in length (about 34 cm) with smaller
ment’s voicing edge, thus making them far easier to play holes than the shakuhachi of today (Yuko Kamisango, p.
than a notched flute such as the shakuhachi where one 89, 1988). There was also a flute called the miyogiri, for
must direct one’s airstream over a sharp edge. the three nodes (miyo) of bamboo that composed it and
which was perhaps closer in form to that of the modern
shakuhachi. In the mid-16th century, the hitoyogiri and
miyogiri were both played by beggar priests called
komoso (from komo –- “ straw mat,” and so –- “monk”),
named for the straw mats they carried as their bedding,
as well as by various wanderers referred to by names
such as boronji or boroboro (Tsuneko Tsukitani, 2008, p.
151). Komoso in paintings or drawings from this period
are shown with long hair and wearing straw mats around
their waists.
Fig. 3. B one flute from excavation of 12 th century The player of Irish whistles or flutes was also com-
Norman ruins. In The National Museum of monly a member of the more destitute classes of society
Ireland (sketch by Luca Ribble). and with regard to other musicians and entertainers, his
status was low (Duffy, p. 347). A much higher status
Though flutes, pipes, or whistles of various sorts seems to have been reserved for players of the harp until
were played in Ireland in medieval times there is no the 17th century and then for players of the bellows-blown
unbroken tradition of one or more flutes which we can uillean pipes, an Irish form of the bagpipe which took
clearly trace from those times to the present day. In con- their present form in the late 18th century, and were origi-
trast, the shakuhachi is an instrument that can be traced nally known as “union pipes.” One of the various histor-
back to the 8th century when it was part of the gagaku ical names for the tin whistle, the “penny whistle,” seems
orchestra that performed at Japan’s Imperial Court. By to have entered the historical record from the streets of
the mid-tenth century the shakuhachi had vanished from Dublin in the 16th century as an instrument favored by
the gagaku orchestra but it is mentioned in various texts vagabonds and beggars.
as still being played by members of various noble fami-
lies in Japan (Chamber Music for Syakuhati, by Simura 3. The history of names for the instruments
Satosi, p. 701). By the 13th century, however, it had
become an instrument used for genres such as dengaku The name ‘shakuhachi’ can be traced back to its
and sarugaku (early Japanese theatre) and was being ancient Chinese equivalent “chiba,” a Chinese term for
played by other classes in society such as blind beggar the instrument which also refers to its length. The term
priests called mekura hoshi; it is thought that they may “tin whistle” is much more recent, perhaps dating back
have performed solo pieces on the shakuhachi before nar- to the first half of the 19th century but possibly earlier. In
− 163 −
Daniel B. Ribble
19th century Ireland, the tinker, or person who worked made are still jiari flutes. It is thought that making flutes
with metal-ware and sold and mended pots, pans, and with ji began sometime around the beginning of the Meiji
kettles, was held in low repute, and the use of the term Period and later became a standard practice; it is not
‘tinker’ was synonymous with “gypsy” (Oxford English exactly clear who began the practice of using ji in shaku-
Dictionary, Volume XI, p. 54, 1970). The tinker may hachi but it seems likely that several members of the
have played a role in disseminating music as he or she Araki lineage of the Kinko school of shakuhachi players
traveled throughout the country and perhaps the name “tin were the first to seriously work with it in shakuhachi con-
whistle” developed out of this context. At certain times struction, in particular the maker and player Araki Kodo
in history both shakuhachi and tin whistle were played by III (1879-1935) (Senryu, 2009) (Fig 4). The “notch” of
classes that were considered to be at the bottom of society the modern shakuhachi is fairly wide and shallow and
with the difference that that some of the Japanese words the thin blowing edges of the instruments have been rein-
for shakuhachi player such as komoso had religious con- forced since the 17th century with the insertion of a thin
notations as well as denoting mendicancy. piece of water buffalo horn or deer antler in one of sev-
In the Edo Period, the shakuhachi underwent further eral shapes into the utaguchi (mouthpiece) of the flute:
modification, becoming a thicker walled instrument with trapezoidal for the Kinko guild and crescent shaped for
a larger diameter and a curved root end that became the Tozan school of shakuhachi playing (Fig. 5). Since
associated with the samurai class, and it is theorized the Meiji Period, the majority of shakuhachi have been
that members of that class may have altered the form of two piece flutes connected by a middle joint piece though
the the flute and changed the term komoso (“straw mat in recent years there has been something of an increase in
monk”) to komuso (“monk of emptiness”) in order to demand for pre-Meiji style one piece flutes referred to as
distance themselves from the earlier komoso, the beggar nobekan. Today’s shakuhachi has a pitch range of about
priests or ‘straw mat” monks. This new shakuhachi, two and a half octaves, with some virtuoso players able
played by the Fuke sect of wandering Zen monks, was to reach the remaining notes in the third octave.
limited to members of the samurai class, and is the instru-
ment most players of shakuhachi perform on today.
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The Tin Whistle and the Shakuhachi: a Comparison and Contrast of Two Flutes from the Opposite Ends of Eurasia
origins in the French flageolet, a small vertically held D is an octave above that of the 1.8 length shakuhachi.
wind instrument of the 17th century, having a mouthpiece As the number of holes on the two flutes and the place-
at one end, four holes in front and two on the back; it ment of the holes differs, the pentatonic scale used by the
reached its height of popularity during the Renaissance shakuhachi is D, F, G, A, C, and the other most common
and Baroque periods and later was revived in the late tetrachord used in playing the traditional music of the
1700s and early 1800s, when it was often used for flute is the miyako bushi (scale), consisting of D, E flat,
playing quadrilles, or French dances that were popular G, A, B flat while two pentatonic modes common in Irish
during the reign of Napoleon I (the recorder, an instru- music are the Ionian – D, E, F#, A, B and the Dorian – D,
ment with origins in northern Italy in the 14th century, E, G, A, B. Though the base notes of both flutes are the
gradually took the place of the flageolet as the amateur same, the scales most commonly relied on are quite dif-
musician’s favorite instrument). It is thought that the ferent.
curious arrangement of the holes, with two in back arose In addition to being identified with Irish traditional
in connection with the small size of the flageolet, as six music, the tin whistle is also played in Scottish and
holes in the front would have been too close together to English folk music, folk rock, and is the lead instru-
play comfortably. In France in the 17th century the fla- ment for a jazz inflected South African music genre
geolet was an amateur player’s instrument. called kwela, while the shakuhachi in recent decades has
The first known tunebook for the instrument was been featured in genres such as jazz, rock, “New Age,”
published in England around 1661 and titled Thomas ambient music and a large number of Hollywood sound-
Greeting’s Pleasant Companion for the Flageolet, which tracks. The tin whistle is more of a ubiquitous instrument
gave popular tunes in a tablature of six lines and symbols than the shakuhachi due in part no doubt to its inexpen-
(Denis Arnold, ed., 1983, p.684) The flageolet was made siveness, the Irish diaspora, and the worldwide popularity
of wood turned on a lathe (in the latter quarter of the 20th of Irish music; the intensive craftsmanship necessary to
century many beginning shakuhachi players in Japan produce a shakuhachi and the scarcity of madake bamboo
started out on lathe-turned wooden shakuhachi) and fla- outside of East Asia makes the shakuhachi less readily
geolets ranged in size from about 12.5-35 centimeters. At available, but the Japanese bamboo flute seems to be used
the beginning of the 19th century, William Bainbridge of in a wider variety of musical contexts than the tin whistle
London began making ‘English’ flageolets, different from perhaps due to its lower pitch and difference in embou-
the French flutes in having six holes in front and one in chure, which allows for greater expressivity on the part of
back. Flageolets were also made in Dublin and Limerick the player. The tin whistle seems more well suited how-
by the early 1800s (Grey Larsen, p. 59). ever for the fast paced dance tunes such as jigs or reels
Later in the century, the Clarke whistle, a flute per- featured in Irish music as least with regard to the standard
haps based on a flageolet prototype but with six holes shakuhachi, and in Japan the transverse flute (fue) or shi-
in front and no thumb hole was developed in England nobue is much more commonly used for Japanese dance
in 1843 by Robert Clarke and made of sheet tin rolled and festival music than the shakuhachi.
around a mandrel. It was later exported to Ireland and The primary physical difference between the two
from the middle of the 19th century on, various sorts of tin flutes besides that of material and the number of finger
whistles were manufactured in Ireland. Considering that holes is that the shakuhachi’s blowing edge is cut diago-
the flageolet is an ancestor of the tin whistle, and that it nally outwards and away from the player and to make a
was often used in playing Baroque music, it is interesting sound the player needs to blow across its bevelled edge
that in the latter part of the 20th century a baroque flute whereas the tin whistle makes use of a fipple or plug at
maker (Rod Cameron) and a shakuhachi maker (Monty the mouth of the metal tube, which serves as a conduit for
Levenson, a well known shakuhachi maker outside of the player’s air stream.
Japan), worked together to develop a laser tracker device Today the tin whistle is the most common instru-
which was used in producing precision mandrels for their ment featured in Irish traditional music. Though the koto
shakuhachi and baroque flutes, in order to accurately is the most commonly played traditional instrument in
reproduce the bore dimensions of historical flutes. Japan -- in the 1990s there were over 200,000 registered
koto players in Japan compared with about 40,000 shaku-
5. T
he music played on the tin whistle and the hachi players, the shakuhachi is by far the most common
shakuhachi traditional Japanese instrument played outside the
country, due in part to the instrument’s ready portability
As was mentioned earlier, in both Irish and Japanese and the growing availability of instruments and shaku-
music traditions today the most commonly used flute is hachi instructors outside of Japan (Elizabeth Falconer,
in the key of D, though the base note of the tin whistle in 1990). As for other reasons for the shakuhachi’s growing
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Daniel B. Ribble
popularity outside of Japan, musicologist Jay Keister 7. Metal shakuhachi and low whistles
points to the Western identification of the shakuhachi
with Zen Buddhism, noting that the persistence of the There was once a serious attempt to make a shaku-
spiritual identity of the shakuhachi “has contributed to hachi out of metal, though not of tin. In 1920s Japan
the internationalization of the instrument in the 20th cen- inventor Okura Kishichiro (1882-1963) created a metal
tury and its relative independence from the protective vertical flute named the Okuraulo which combined the
and controlling culture of the traditional Japanese music shakuhachi’s mouthpiece with the key mechanisms of
world.” (Jay Keister, p. 100, 2004). Today one can take the modern Boehm silver flute (developed in the mid-19th
shakuhachi lessons with master teachers in various cities century); luckily, perhaps for the future of the traditional
in the United States attend shakuhachi summer schools shakuhachi, this invention did not catch on, in part, per-
in Colorado or in several nations in Europe, and even haps, because of the high cost of the instrument.
complete advanced university degrees in shakuhachi in Interestingly, the Boehm flutes did not made
Australia. headway in Ireland in the early years following their
invention (1847); rather, Irish musicians took up tradi-
6. The increasing popularity of plastic models tional simple system wooden horizontal flutes which had
been developed in France in the late 17 th century at a
Mass production of the tin whistle in the 19th century time when classical musicians on the European continent
made it cheap and readily accessible and while the shaku- were discarding them in favor of the Boehm flute. The
hachi is still largely made by hand in a labor intensive simple system cross-blown flutes used the same finger-
process, there are plastic models such as the yuu flute, an ings and playing techniques as those used in playing the
ABS plastic flute developed by Nagase Kenji which has tin whistle, and both instruments were used in playing the
become popular with beginning players -- and even those Irish traditional music of the late 19th century, though the
more advanced --around the world in the last decade, use of the tin whistle in Irish traditional music is thought
as it has the approximate shape, weight, and sound of a to have begun prior to the adoption of the horizontal
bamboo flute along with a low price-tag. One can also simple system flute. The simple system wood flute is
purchase tin whistles made of ABS plastic; Susato penny often referred to by Gaelic speakers as the fheadog mhor,
whistles are two- piece plastic flutes which are pitch or big whistle; its price range is quite similar to that of
adjustable. Plastic whistles are not only played by begin- shakuhachi, with antique flutes going for over $5000
ners; Irish tin whistle maestro Sean Ryan often plays in (Brad Hurley, 2004, p. 22)
formal and informal contexts on a plastic whistle. While While today the standard tin whistle has six holes
bamboo flutes remain quite expensive, going for $1000 and the shakuhachi has five, in the 1920’s in Japan, there
or more, with high quality flutes usually selling for twice were attempts to vary the number of holes in the Japanese
or three times that amount, the yuu plastic model can be flute; seven and nine holed shakuhachi were experi-
purchased for less than one hundred dollars. mented with and though the nine holed shakuhachi did
Although most shakuhachi are made of bamboo, not survive the test of time, the seven holed vertical flute
there are areas of the world such as Australia where remains popular in some shakuhachi circles and is the
makers use other materials; flute maker David Brown flute of choice for a number of performers who primarily
specializes in hardwood flutes due in part perhaps to the play modern pieces. There are also players who bore an
dryness of the climate and the lack of madake, the type extra small hole near the area of the middle joint of the
of bamboo used to make shakuhachi in Japan. Some of flute and so play a six hole shakuhachi in order to play
the shakuhachi sold by Mr. Brown have a connection modern pieces with more ease.
with the tin whistle as they come with interchangable In regard to the traditionally inexpensive tin whistle,
shakuhachi and tin whistle type mouthpieces. On another there are now makers producing considerably more
Internet site one can buy the yuu ABS plastic shakuha- expensive brass, silver, and wooden whistles. Both
chis with a fipple type attachment so that one can make a shakuhachi and tin whistle are played in various lengths
sound and work on the fingerings before having to worry (standard shakuhachi usually can be found in lengths
with the traditional shakuhachi embouchure, which has ranging from 1.6 to 2.4 shaku) and in recent years longer
a reputation for giving difficulties to beginning players shakuhachi, referred to as ‘chokan’, are being favored,
– who sometimes have difficulty getting a sound out of especially outside of Japan. A new variation of shaku-
the flute -- as opposed to a fipple style mouthpiece where hachi called taimu has been developed by shakuhachi
the player’s airstream is easily guided through a fixed maker Ken LaCosse and, player and collector of Edo
channel to create a sound. Period shakuhachi Brian Ritchie in San Francisco, a
wide bore flute made in lengths from 2.0 –2.8 or longer
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The Tin Whistle and the Shakuhachi: a Comparison and Contrast of Two Flutes from the Opposite Ends of Eurasia
and advertised as having a “foghorn” sound;” perhaps Irish simple system flute player Matt Malloy said “You
not a description one would have heard in old Edo but have to put your own particular stamp on it,“ a sentiment
the flutes are modeled to a degree on longer Edo Period echoed by some shakuhachi masters when they are dis-
shakuhachi (LaCosse, 2009). cussing honkyoku, or the traditional wandering monks’
The popularity of longer tin whistles is also gaining pieces (Mat Malloy, 1997).
in Irish traditional music; these flutes are usually referred There are shakuhachi masters who emphasize per-
to as low whistles. The use of the low whistle in the forming without notation; reknowned shakuhachi master
modern era dates back to the late 1960s when English Yokoyama Katsuya stresses the importance of memo-
whistle maker Bernard Overton made a 60 centimeter rizing the traditional komuso pieces and playing them
flute for an Irish whistler and flute player named Finbar without notation in order to truly know them. In the
Furey who was in desperate need of a flute to replace one beginning, however, members of Yokoyama Katsuya’s
in need of repair (apparently a bansuri, hence the need shakuhachi school start out reading a modified katakana
for a longer length flute, which leads to speculation on script tablature while learning the pieces. Other shaku-
the use on the bansuri in playing Irish music - outside the hachi schools such as the main branches of the Kinko
scope of this paper except to note that new instruments or ryu (style) and Tozan ryu generally continue to rely on
new traditions of playing may come from such forays). written scores though eventually the script may become
Now over twenty varieties of low whistle are manufac- just an aid to memory. Masters of Japanese honkyoku
tured and they are played in places as far from Ireland as emphasize the importance of making a honkyoku piece
the island of Shikoku, Japan (Phil Brown, 2007). In the one’s own through varying the ornamentation while
last several decades the music of both shakuhachi and keeping to the original spirit of the piece
tin whistle has continued to gain in popularity in coun- The oldest record we have of shakuhachi notation
tries other than the home countries of both flutes and the is hitoyogiri notation for a work called Tanteki Hidenfu
number of players utilizing longer instruments from both (1608) which uses syllabic katakana characters such as
traditions – the chokan (shakuhachi longer than about a ya, ta, ho, and ro to represent fingerings (Tsukitani, p.
2.1) and the low whistles -- has steadily increased. 164) while today’s most common shakuhachi tablatures
(for Tozan and Kinko) utilize a modified katakana script
8. The transmission of the music first devised by komuso Kurosawa Kinko in the 18th cen-
tury with characters for sounds such as ro, tsu, re, chi, hi,
Regarding the music which is played on shaku- and ri (Fig. 5). In shakuhachi music there are techniques
hachi and Irish tin whistle, both instruments come from used which are not expressed in the music notation but
an oral/aural tradition where beginners may find it dif- which have to be learned in person from the shakuhachi
ficult to learn the flute tunes from a book and play them sensei (teacher). Traditional players of Irish music some-
in an authentic manner. The solo honkyoku (literally times make use of simplified notation, in numeric or
‘original music’) pieces played on the shakuhachi today alphabetic script, when first learning pieces but abandon
were passed down orally among wandering Zen monks these when playing in front of an audience.
for hundreds of years while Irish tunes were also passed
down from skilled exponents to aspiring players. Today
in Japan learning shakuhachi often still involves direct
transmission of the music from a teacher to a student,
in many cases where the teacher and a student sit oppo-
site each other while playing. The flute student learns
aspects of flute playing such as proper breathing and
phrasing, articulation, and correct pitch and tone quality
by observing and playing pieces together with the sensei
(teacher). Initially pieces are sung and the rhythm of the
pieces beaten out by hand before they are played on the
flute.
In Irish traditional music once pieces are mastered
whistle players sometimes introduce variation into their Fig. 6. A
n example of Kinko and Tozan school tabla-
“airs” (vocal melodies encompassing a wide range: ture for a traditional Gaelic tune from The Alder
often Gaelic tunes in AABA form). Sometimes the Bough: Celtic Airs for Shakuhachi ; the Kinko
instrumental pieces are patterned in imitation of the more tablature is on the right (used by permission of
ornate styles of singing. In a 1997 interview well known author Larry Tyrell. Copyright, Moonbridge)
− 167 −
Daniel B. Ribble
9. S
imilarities and differences in playing tech- 10. M
usic traditions in which the flutes are
niques played
Both Japanese and Irish flute traditions make use Both flutes are used in solo as well as ensemble
of similar techniques such as trills, half holing, glis- music in their respective traditions, with the tin whistle
sando, and a kind of portamento ornamentation, which in and the “big whistle” (the horizontal simple system flute)
shakuhachi playing is referred to as suriage – sliding up being used to play slow, melodic airs originally taken
to the next semitone, or surisage – sliding down to the from songs but now played as instrumentals while the
note below. In Irish whistle playing there are techniques shakuhachi is used for playing the solo honkyoku, liter-
such as tonguing, used occasionally for emphasis, and ally ‘original’ music which are meditative solo pieces,
rolls --where one plays a group of three descending grace often with titles related to the natural world – “The Call
notes, the second of which equals the pitch of the main of the Wild Deer,” Falling Leaves,” “The Nesting of the
note -- which are used in traditional Irish music but which Cranes” - which were played by wandering Zen monks
are used rarely or not at all in Japanese traditional music doing takuhatsu (begging for alms) in Edo Period Japan.
though they are sometimes utilized in more modern styles Irish traditional music contains love songs, lulla-
or pieces, and shakuhachi techniques such as muraiki bies, humorous songs, religious songs, drinking songs,
--expelling the air in an explosive charge through the songs of parting, and ancient laments and heroic lays,
flute, which are not possible on the tin whistle due to the the latter often sung in Gaelic. Larry Tyrrell, a profes-
difference in embouchure. Hurley says about Irish orna- sional shakuhachi player in the state of Oregon, has put
mentation that “ornaments should be played so quickly together a book of Irish airs (vocal melodies) written out
that listeners don’t hear the note, but rather the articula- in the katakana script notation used for shakuhachi, and
tion effect “ (Hurley, p. 23) and one could make a similar refers to the airs as “Irish honkyoku,” Some ornamenta-
statement about shakuhachi ornaments; players generally tion techniques characteristic of Irish tin whistle such as
don’t linger on them. Hurley also notes that many Irish rolls can be readily played on shakuhachi. The ”slow
flutists use glottal stops more frequently than tonguing. airs” were taken from songs and are played mainly for
In playing traditional shakuhachi music tonguing is never listening but the more prevalent dance tunes for song
used but either the tongue or glottis is used in a tremolo forms such as jigs or reels played at fast tempos are not
effect technique called tamane. as readily played on the standard five hole shakuhachi as
One technique which is unique to the playing of the they are on Irish instruments such as the feadan or the
five hole shakuhachi and which is a major part of much fheadog mhor (“big whistle”).
of traditional shakuhachi playing is called meri, and Other traditional Japanese music genres where
involves the lowering of the pitch of the instrument as shakuhachi are played are gaikyoku, also called sankyoku
much as a minor third through a combination of partial (music for three instruments), which is ensemble music
holing and/or lowering of the chin. Notes played in meri for koto, shamisen, and shakuhachi, and minyo, literally
tend to be quieter than the kari notes (natural or sharp ‘folk music.’ The gaikyoku or “outside pieces” were/are
notes; those played without lowering the chin) and the songs originally composed for koto or shamisen, some
differences in tone color resulting from meri or kari and dating back to the Edo Period, where the bamboo flute
other techniques such as using alternate fingerings for plays a melismatic version of the koto or shamisen part
certain pitches forms an important part of the shakuhachi in ensemble with the koto and/or sangen (shamisen) and
aesthetic. In tin whistle playing there is partial holing voice. There are various divisions of gaikyoku from the
but there is little changing of the angle at which the air koten or Edo Period “classical” pieces to the shinkyoku
stream is generated through head movement. pieces of the early 20th century to the gendai hokagu or
The folk styles in Ireland demand an abundance of post World War II pieces which often use techniques
grace notes and vibrato made by shaking fingers over the from Western music.
open holes of the flute and shakuhachi playing also has The shakuhachi is used in minyo, literally “folksong,”
these characteristics though the shakuhachi player usually a term which entered Japanese vocabulary in the late 19th
produces various types of vibrato through chin or head century and which Asano Kenji has defined as “songs
movements, such as yoko yuri – moving the chin from which were originally born naturally within local folk
side to side, tate yuri – moving the head up and down, or communities and, while being transmitted aurally, reflect
mawashi yuri – moving the head in a circular movement. naively the sentiments of daily life (David W. Hughes,
2008, 283).” Minyo usually refers to songs that originated
in rural Japan and were written by anonymous nonprofes-
sional musicians. Types of minyo include work songs
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The Tin Whistle and the Shakuhachi: a Comparison and Contrast of Two Flutes from the Opposite Ends of Eurasia
-- rice planting songs, logging songs, net-casting songs, in Ireland today largely dates back to the 17th through 19th
packhorsemen’s songs, sake-making songs, and others, centuries, and includes songs both in Irish Gaelic and in
songs associated with religious festivals or celebrations English, with dance forms such as the reel and hornpipe
including dance songs for obon (midsummer festival) having been introduced from England several centuries
and kagura (Shinto shrine related festivities), lullabies, ago. Many instrumental airs played on tin whistle today
and children’s songs. The shakuhachi is not used for all were often originally played on the uillean pipes in the
types of minyo, and is probably played more for standard- early 19th century just as the role of the shakuhachi in the
ized versions of work songs than the other categories, chamber music of the late 19th century had originally been
which are usually accompanied by transverse flutes, if filled by another instrument, the three stringed bowed
accompanied by flutes at all. In minyo the shakuhachi kokyu (a long necked lute) before it was largely replaced
follows the vocal line and also plays interludes and this by the shakuhachi after the demise of the Fuke sect and
form of shakuhachi playing is probably the closest to the consequent secularization of the bamboo flute.
the role of the tin whistle in Irish traditional music as There are pieces in the Japanese tradition, both
the melody the tin whistle plays in traditional contexts honkyoku and ensemble pieces for koto, shamisen, and
is usually the equivalent of or a variation on the tune shakuhach such as Rokudan no Shirabe (“Investigation in
being played by the other instruments in an Irish music Six Sections”) that date back to the 17th century, and most
ensemble. of the honkyoku played today were collected and written
In the majority of Irish traditional music pieces the down in the late 18th century, so the pieces commonly
whistle plays the same melody as instruments such as played in both traditions date from a similar time frame.
harp, horizontal simple-system wood flute, uillean pipes, One key difference between the type of pieces played
fiddle, and concertina, though in recent years harmony in both traditions is that the honkyoku pieces are unique
and percussion have been added with instruments such in being solo instrumental pieces unconnected to a song
as guitars, bodhran (a single-headed frame drum played tradition, whereas the Irish melodies played on the tin
with a short stick), and bouzouki. Additional percus- whistle are pieces which come from Irish and British airs
sion is sometimes played on spoons or bones. There are and dance tunes, some of which have come from songs
minyo tunes played on shakuhachi with taiko (Japanese which were originally sung sean nos (with no instru-
drum) accompaniment in addition to ensemble pieces mental accompaniment). There are Irish flute instrumen-
with shamisen and koto, though taiko are played more tals that originated from solo singing, but no tradition of
often with shinobue or takebue (transverse folk flutes). Irish flute instrumental pieces which developed indepen-
The addition of the bodhran to the Irish musical ensemble dently of song.
is also a relatively new development, with the frame In connection with the Fuke sect of Zen Buddhism,
drum becoming widely used for accompanying other the shakuhachi was once considered to be a hoki, or reli-
Irish instruments from the 1950’s (Stanley Sadie, ed., p. gious instrument, rather than a gakki, or musical instru-
565, 2001). Both shakuhachi and tin whistle are played ment, though that status was largely lost at the end of the
along with traditional folk music in their respective coun- Meiji Period while the tin whistle has always been used
tries, but whereas in Ireland the folk tunes are the main as a purely musical instrument, without any religious con-
repertoire for the tin whistle, in Japan minyo is just one notations, though some Irish traditional music has or has
of several distinct genres where shakuhachi is commonly had religious significance (laments) or supernatural and
used mythic overtones. Both traditions attribute early pieces to
While many of the most popular Japanese minyo legendary origins, with some of the old Irish Gaelic tunes
come from work songs related to themes such as agricul- being attributed to fairies, from whom the Irish musicians
ture or fishing (and the lyrics in sankyoku pieces often allegedly stole tunes. Several of the earliest Japanese
have references to the seasons, birds, flowers, or specific honkyoku pieces, “Mukaiji” (“Flute on the Misty Sea”),
places), Irish traditional music in comparison seems to and “Koku” (“Flute in the Empty Sky”) were said to have
have relatively few work related tunes but often has his- been first heard in a flute player’s dream.
torical references to battles or famous personages and
events (themes perhaps more in common with the nar- 11. Handing down the music in both traditions
rative traditions of the Japanese biwa, or short necked
lute). An air named “Callino” in a lute book from the last Despite the differences in music styles traditional
quarter of the 16th century is the earliest notation we have music in both Ireland and Japan has often been preserved
of an Irish melody (Stanley Sadie, ed., p. 561). Centuries and handed down to succeeding generations through a
old religious laments and Norman dance songs have both kind of guild system that has often been associated with
left traces in Irish music but the traditional music played particular families. In Japan following the banning of
− 169 −
Daniel B. Ribble
the Zen Fuke sect in 1871, various schools of shakuhachi Though minyo bars where folk shakuhachi tunes
playing developed which continue to pass down their own may still be heard still exist in certain areas of Japan, in
particular techniques and pieces. In shakuhachi playing the last decade or so the number of minyo players and
and in other traditional arts in Japan the importance of supporters seems to have declined rather precipitously;
lineage is emphasized and in some cases particular fami- there are far more young Japanese devotees of Western
lies have kept the traditions going for centuries. In medi- style folk songs playing guitar or harmonica but infre-
eval Ireland this was also the case; “the professions of the quent mixing of the two “folk” genres, though there
lawyers, musicians and healers were kept within certain is at least one well known minyo musician, Ito Takio,
families and passed from one generation to another” who mixes minyo with Western instruments. Another
states medieval scholar Michael Richter in regard to exception is Kochi prefecture’s Yosakoi festival, where
15th century Ireland (Michael Richter, 1988, p. 185). In the minyo tune yosakoi bushi is appropriated into rock,
medieval Ireland as far back as the 12th century various jazz, samba and various other styles of music during the
families were considered masters of music, and even in dancing days of the annual summer festival, In Japan
regard to more recent times Irish flute Matt Malloy player traditional music performances tend to be very organized,
says of his childhood in the 1950s that families that were with even the minyo groups maintaining a strict standard-
interested in the traditional music “associated with fami- ization of songs; in regard to the Japanese classical music
lies that were of a like mind.” (Matt Molloy, 1997) genres of honkyoku and gaikyoku the various shakuhachi
In the often family run iemoto (“headmaster”) sys- guilds hold annual recitals in prefectures throughout the
tems in Japan today one generally learns the shakuhachi country, and there are now several annual traditional
pieces by imitating one’s teacher as closely as possible music competitions for younger shakuhachi players in
and in Ireland today there is also the idea of letting “the both Kanto and Kyushu.
tradition sing through you rather than originality” and Generally speaking, there have been changes in
the idea of keeping personal emotion to a minimum, Irish traditional music from a focus on unaccompanied
(Terry Eagleton, 1999, p. 125), a sentiment which would singing, informal solo instrumental music, and imperma-
probably be echoed by many Japanese traditional music nent groups of two or three musicians before WWII to
schools. more specialized performances of larger groups of instru-
ment players in venues open to the public; from pubs and
12. Performance and place in both cultures informal sessions to more organized performances and
more competitive music festivals, largely due to the influ-
In both Ireland and Japan today, traditional music is ence of classically trained composer Sean O Riada who
largely the music of non-professionals who often receive orchestrated new traditional instrument combinations and
some of their training from professional players. In Japan musical arrangements in the 1960s.
the iemoto of each school of shakuhachi and often his A considerable difference between the two worlds
top students are professional players who head a pyramid of Irish and Japanese traditional music is that from sev-
style hierarchical organization composed mainly of ama- eral decades ago Irish traditional music became the most
teurs. In Ireland the playing of traditional music has been popular form of entertainment for foreign tourists visiting
more informal in context though since the 1950s compe- the country, with the result that Irish traditional music
titions and a focus on group instrumental playing have is probably more under the sway of commercial forces
been strongly emphasized originally under the sponsor- than traditional music in Japan. Though there may be
ship of the musicians’ organizations such as Comhaltas more conflicts over intellectual property rights in Ireland
Ceoltori Eireann. In the mid-20th century competitions in the relationship between traditional music and corpo-
increased the interest in traditional music among young rate sponsorship there are continuing commitments to
people and players of various traditional instruments tradition as well as to innovation in both countries. In
including the tin whistle began to gather in so-called the 1990s there was a further increase in young peoples’
pub sessions combining music and socializing, a tradi- participation in Irish traditional music activities in music
tion that continues to this day. Concerning the places sessions, summer schools and study programs at high
where traditional music of both cultures is performed, schools and universities ( Gearoid O h’Allmhurain, p.
Irish performers on tin whistle can be often seen playing 182, 2004) Irish traditional music groups such as the
in the context of a pub whereas shakuhachi players in Chieftans, originally affiliated with Sean O Riada, and
Japan are more often seen in a concert or community hall groups with a stronger rock or jazz orientation such as
setting though there are exceptions on both sides -- with Planxty or Clannad have helped place Irish traditional
noted Irish flutist James Galway being known to play tin music in a similar position to other music genres in the
whistle in a formal concert context. world of popular entertainment.
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The Tin Whistle and the Shakuhachi: a Comparison and Contrast of Two Flutes from the Opposite Ends of Eurasia
Though there has been some new interest in tradi- 14. Summary
tional instruments in Japan with the recent popularity of
artists such as the shamisen playing Yoshida brothers In summary, both tin whistle and shakuhachi are
and the continuing interest in taiko groups such as Kodo end-blown flutes with long, colorful histories in their
(though taiko group drumming is actually quite a new respective cultures, traditions of playing solo and with
tradition in Japan, having started in the 1950s) there has string instruments, and both utilize some similar tech-
not been a comparable revitalization of traditional music niques such as finger slides from one note to the next,
in Japan over the last several decades despite a recent trills, and vibrato. A key difference between the music
change in governmental policy regarding Japanese tra- played on the two instruments is that Irish flute music
ditional music. Beginning in April 2002, a change in comes from a sung tradition as does the shakuhachi
the status of traditional music in the country has been in music of minyo, but the oldest repertoire of the shaku-
effect with an educational policy that has required that all hachi (honkyoku) comes from a strictly instrumental
junior-high school students to spend some time learning tradition associated with a Zen sect of Buddhism that had
a traditional Japanese musical instrument; however, as no connection with song (though some claim an indirect
in many cases there are no qualified instructors avail- influence of shomyo, or Buddhist chant, on honkyoku;
able at the schools and little or no funding to hire outside Sawada Atsuko, 20001, p. 617).
instructors, it is questionable as to whether this “redis- Exponents of Irish traditional music and some mas-
covery” of Japanese music will have a significant effect ters of shakuhachi emphasize the importance of internal-
on the music being played or listened to in Japan. Most izing the pieces by memorizing them though this seems
Japanese associate Japanese traditional music with the to be practiced more consistently by Irish pipers who
new year or special festivity days; familiarity with tradi- along with other Irish musicians do not use written nota-
tional music in everyday life has been lost among many tion when playing in front of an audience. This may be
or most segments of society in contrast to Ireland, though related to the fact that many Irish pieces have a clearly
perhaps it was never as familiar to the average Japanese defined melodic structure, often repeated in an AABB
in comparison to Ireland where traditional music seems pattern while Japanese honkyoku can be more free form
to be much more frequently encountered in daily life. In and quite lengthy (anywhere from five to thirty minutes)
Japanese society traditional music remains largely the and many sankyoku and honkyoku follow the Japanese
province of specialized groups. aesthetic of zyo ha kyu, (introduction, development and
then a faster tempo rush to the end of the piece) in a
13. Different perceptions of the two instruments completely linear structure: sankyoku pieces can also be
quite long, to more than twenty minutes for some pieces,
There are also differences in perceptions of the two and as they put more emphasis on rhythm than melody
instruments, with the shakuhachi having a reputation in they may sound rather unmelodic to an ear accustomed
Japan as quite a difficult instrument to play - a famous to Western music; these factors don’t seem to prevent a
saying associated with this is “kubi furi san nen,” or, “it large number of Japanese koto players from memorizing
takes three years to learn to shake your head” – while the the pieces but shakuhachi players in Japan generally rely
tin whistle, according to Grey Larsen, was until recently on written notation.
viewed as an introductory instrument for pipers just Flute players in both Ireland and Japan have both
beginning to play or a musical instrument more suitable at times been concerned with collecting and preserving
for children until the Irish traditional music revival of their pieces. Traditional musicians have traveled their
the 1960s and 1970s when the musical expressiveness respective countries collecting music pieces from various
and innovative playing of skilled tin whistlers was given regions. In regard to the shakuhachi Kurosawa Kinko is
more recognition (Larsen, p. 60). While the difficulty of perhaps most well known for this; Kinko was an 18th cen-
the shakuhachi has probably been exaggerated, possibly tury komuso who wandered Japan collecting honkyoku
even by shakuhachi players themselves, the tin whistle, from the various Fuke sect temples and rewriting many of
though it may look like a toy, is not something that one the pieces; today his collection of 36 honkyoku form the
just picks up and plays proficiently without the requisite core of the Kinko shakuhachi guild’s honkyoku tradition.
hours of effective practice. Both traditions have a long The oldest existing manuscript collection of Irish tunes
history of playing solo pieces, and though the type of also dates from the latter half of the 18th century.
pieces played by tin whistle and shakuhachi are often Looking at more recent times, in the middle of the
quite different there are pieces such as slow Irish airs and last century one of the most prolific collectors and dis-
Japanese minyo tunes which can be comfortably played persers of Irish music, a master piper named Seamus
on both instruments. Ennis, went all around the west of Ireland by bicycle,
− 171 −
Daniel B. Ribble
equipped with only a pen, a bag of music sheets, and a Companion to Japanese Music ed. by Alison
tin whistle to write down tunes, which he was able to McQueen, pp. 281-302, Ashgate.
do on first hearing; he used a tin whistle to verify all his Hurley, Brad 2004 “The Essential Guide to Irish Flute
transcriptions), and after a five year stint under the Irish and Tin Whistle ”Flute Talk 23:22-3, March 2004
Folklore Commission, had collected over 2000 pieces, The International Shakuhachi Society 2009 Website.
more than any predecessors in his field (O h’Allmhurain, http://www.komuso.com
p. 139, 2005). In more recent years in Japan master Johnson, Henry 2004 The Koto: A Traditional Instrument
shakuhachi players such as Akikazu Nakamura have trav- in Contemporary Japan, Hotei Publishing.
eled south to Kyushu and north to Tohoku to collect and Kano, Mari 2001 “Social Groups and Institutions in
learn honkyoku from those areas. Japan” in The Garland Encyclopedia of World
In Japan even rural prefectures such as Kochi have Music, Volume 7 ed. by Robert Provine, pp. 755-
their monthly meeting of players of Irish music at an 761
Irish pub and while the number of shakuhachi players Kamisango, Yuko 1988 “The Shakuhachi – History and
appears to be in stasis in Japan the number of shaku- Development” in The Shakuhachi: A Manual for
hachi players and makers in a number of other countries Learning trans. by Christopher Yohmei Blasdel,
has been increasing due to the increased availability of Ongaku No Tomo Sha Corp.
instruments, teachers, workshops and other educational Keister, Jay 2004 “The Shakuhachi as Spiritual Tool: A
opportunities, and to the development in recent years of Japanese Buddhist Instrument in the West” Asian
Internet forums and other shakuhachi related groups out- Music v. 25 (2): 99-131
side of Japan, such as the European Shakuhachi Society, LaCosse, Kevin 2009 Website. http://www.mujitsu.com/
created in 2006. Let us hope that the traditional music of index.html
both cultures continues to thrive. Larsen, Grey 2003 The Essential Guide to Irish Flute and
TinWhistle MelRay
References Latham, Alison, ed. 2002 The Oxford Companion to
Music OUP
Bordell, Brian 2005 “Music Before 1700”, in A New Levenson, Monty 2008 Website. http://www.shakuhachi.
History of Ireland, v. 4 ed. Daibhi O Croinin, pp. com
542-618 OUP Malm, William P. 2000 Traditional Japanese Music and
Brown, Phil 2007 Website. www.geocities.com/solto/ Music Instruments N.Y.: Kodansha International
studios/2186/whistle.html O h’Allmhurain Geroid 2004 A Pocket History of Irish
Buckley, Ann 2005 “Music in Ireland to c. 1500”, in A Traditional Music O’Brien
New History of Ireland, volume I ed. Daibhi O The Oxford English Dictionary, Volume XI, T-U, Oxford,
Croinin, pp. 745-813 OUP 1970
Caroll Paul 1999 Baroque Woodwind Instruments: A Ribble, Daniel “The Other Side of the Pacific: A Few
Guide to Their History, Repertoire and Basic Statistics and Observations on Shakuhachi Playing
Techniques Ashgate in Japan and Kochi Prefecture” Website. www.
Donnely, James S., ed. 1998 Irish Popular Culture 1650- shakuhachi.com
1850, Irish Academic Press Richter, Michael 1988 Medieval Ireland: The Enduring
Duffy, Sean ed. Medieval Ireland: An Encyclopedia, Tradition. Gill and Macmillan
N.Y.: Routledge Ryan, Sean 2008 Interview by Daniel B. Ribble, October
Eagleton, Terry 1999 The Truth About the Irish, NY: St. 16, 2008
Martin’s Press Sadie, Stanley, ed. 2001 The New Grove Dictionary of
Falconer, Elizabeth 1990 Website. http://www.kotoworld. Music and Musicians, v. 12
com/article_newhogaku.html Macmillan Press Limited
Fujita, Takanori 2001 “Continuity and Authenticity in Sadie, Stanley, ed. 1984 The New Grove Dictionary
Japanese Music”, in The Garland Encyclopedia of of Musical Instruments, v.1-2 Macmillan Press
World Music, v. 7 ed. by Robert Provine, pp. 767- Limited
742 Sawada Atsuko 2001 “Buddhist Music in Japan” in The
Groemer, Gerald 2001 “Japanese Folk Music”, in The Garland Encyclopedia of World Music, Volume 7,
Garland Encyclopedia of World Music, Volume 7, East Asia ed. by Robert Provine, pp. 611-618
East Asia ed. by Robert Provine, pp. 599-606 Senryu Justin 2009 Website. http://justinshakuhachi.
Hughes, David W. 2008 “Folk Music: From Local to googlepages.com
National to Global.” in the Ashgate Research Senryu Justin 2009 personal communication via e-mail.
− 172 −
The Tin Whistle and the Shakuhachi: a Comparison and Contrast of Two Flutes from the Opposite Ends of Eurasia
− 173 −
Contents
First
Comments
about
learning
the
Shakuhachi
..........................................................................................
3
So
what
is
a
Shakuhachi?
.............................................................................................................................
4
Shakuhachi
Flute
Parts
................................................................................................................................
4
What’s
Inside
a
Shakuhachi?
...................................................................................................................
5
History
of
flute
.............................................................................................................................................
5
Shakuhachi
Schools
.....................................................................................................................................
5
Kinko-‐Ryu
.................................................................................................................................................
5
Tozan
.......................................................................................................................................................
6
Comparison
between
Kinko
and
Tozan
styles
.........................................................................................
6
Shakuhachi
music
genres
.............................................................................................................................
7
Blowing
your
first
note!
...............................................................................................................................
7
Basic
Notes
and
Reading
the
Notation
........................................................................................................
9
Octave
Register
Indications
.........................................................................................................................
9
Meri-‐Kari
(A.K.A.
flats
and
sharps)
...............................................................................................................
9
MERI
TECHNIQUE
....................................................................................................................................
9
KARI
TECHNIQUE
...................................................................................................................................
10
Tempo
Notation
........................................................................................................................................
11
Fingering
Chart
..........................................................................................................................................
12
Beginner
Shakuhachi
Practice
...................................................................................................................
13
Basic
mechanics
.....................................................................................................................................
13
Using
the
fingering
charts
try
to
make
all
of
the
basic
notes.
...............................................................
13
Practice
your
basic
notes
in
a
song.
.......................................................................................................
13
Internet
Resources
....................................................................................................................................
13
Page
2
First
Comments
about
learning
the
Shakuhachi
There
is
a
significant
challenge
to
the
new
shakuhachi
player
especially
if
you
are
teaching
yourself;
there
are
what
seem
to
be
many
contradicting
bits
of
information.
• To
start
with
the
flutes
themselves
can
have
different
names
depending
on
their
type.
• Shakuhachi
notation
read
top
down
from
right
to
left,
the
new
player
has
to
become
comfortable
with
this.
• Then
an
even
bigger
one
is
styles
on
notation.
Western
staff
notation
is
very
consistent
whereas
shakuhachi
notations
can
one
of
several
styles.
•
Then
even
down
the
individual
characters
for
the
note,
there
can
be
differences.
And
there
another
very
big
change
from
western
to
shakuhachi
notation;
the
western
notation
represents
a
specific
pitch,
shakuhachi
notation
represents
a
fingering
pattern.
The
notation
for
all
5
holes
closed
on
the
flute
is
called
Ro
and
whenever
a
shakuhachi
player
see’s
Ro
they
close
all
five
holes.
With
this
in
mind,
longer
flutes
will
create
a
different
pitch
note
when
playing
Ro
than
a
smaller
one.
All
shakuhachi
notes
have
names
and
a
unique
symbol,
each
representing
a
different
fingering.
I
did
not
say
“different
pitch”
for
several
reasons;
first
the
long/short
flute
thing,
secondly
different
fingerings
can
make
the
same
pitch
but
have
a
different
feel
or
tone
color.
Two
notes
that
produce
a
D
pitch
on
a
standard
1.8
shakuhachi
one
may
be
clear
and
bright
the
other
may
be
breathy
and
rough.
Then
depending
on
what
teacher
your
teacher
had…
etc…
etc…
they
may
have
chosen
to
finger
the
exact
same
note
differently.
If
all
of
this
seems
a
bit
frustrating,
just
wait
till
you
try
and
play
more
and
more
and
these
contradicting
bits
of
information
keep
popping
up!
It’s
my
hope
that
The
Phoenix
AZ
Shakuhachi
Friends
can
inspire
and
help
you
start
your
shakuhachi
journey.
I
highly
recommend
if
you
enjoy
playing
the
shakuhachi
and
want
to
continue
that
you
find
a
professional
teacher.
Unfortunately
here
is
the
Phoenix
area
are
not
much
on
the
way
of
teachers.
There
are
some
teachers
that
will
instruct
you
from
across
the
internet.
If
you’d
like
a
recommendation
on
a
teacher
please
ask
the
group.
Page
3
So
what
is
a
Shakuhachi?
The
name
shakuhachi
means
"1.8
shaku",
referring
to
its
size.
It
is
a
compound
of
two
words:
• Shaku
(尺)
is
an
archaic
unit
of
measurement
equal
to
30.3
centimeters
(0.994
English
foot)
and
subdivided
in
ten
subunits.
• Hhachi
(八)
means
"eight",
here
eight
sun,
or
tenths
of
a
shaku.
Thus,
"shaku-‐hachi"
means
"one
shaku
eight
sun"
(almost
55
centimeters
or
about
21.5
inches),
the
standard
length
of
a
shakuhachi.
Other
shakuhachi
vary
in
length
from
about
1.3
shaku
up
to
3.3
shaku.
Although
the
sizes
differ,
all
are
still
referred
to
generically
as
"shakuhachi".
Page
4
What’s
Inside
a
Shakuhachi?
Jiari
-‐
shakuhachi
that
are
most
often
made
in
two
pieces
having
a
center
joint
and
display
an
inside
that
is
heavily
altered
with
paste
and
urushi
to
form
a
more
uniform
inner
bore.
Jiari
can
also
describe
any
shakuhachi
that
has
a
completely
fabricated
inner
bore
that
leaves
little
to
none
of
the
original
bamboo
bore
uncovered.
Such
flutes
can
use
plastic,
plasters,
and
anything
that
will
adhere
to
the
bamboo
and
allow
the
maker
to
sculpt
the
interior.
Jinashi
-‐
the
opposite
of
jiari,
jinashi
shakuhachi
range
from
all
natural
to
more
refined,
however,
the
main
characteristic
of
any
jinashi
is
that
most
of
the
natural
bamboo
bore
geometry
is
left
intact.
A
jinashi
can
be
tuned
by
making
subtrations
from
the
bamboo
bore
or
by
adding
material
at
key
points
along
the
bore.
Jinashi
can
also
have
urushi
lacquer
applied
to
the
inner
bore.
Shakuhachi
Schools
TWO
SCHOOLS
OF
SHAKUHACHI:
KINKO
and
TOZAN
Kinko-‐Ryu
Kurosawa
Kinko
(1710-‐1771)
,
founder
of
the
Kinko
style
of
shakuhachi,
was
a
komuso
monk
born
into
a
samurai
family.
He
was
responsible
for
taking
the
honkyoku
of
the
past,
which
was
concerned
mainly
with
Page
5
meditation,
and
adding
a
higher
degree
of
musicality
to
it.
He
travelled
all
over
Japan
and
collected
33
honkyoku
pieces,
which
now
make
up
the
core
of
the
Kinko
style
of
shakuhachi.
He
also
improved
the
instrument,
perhaps
improving
the
bore
structure
to
access
certain
tones
easier.
It
wasn't
until
the
second
generation
of
the
Kinko
family
that
the
delineation
of
a
Kinko
style
was
recognized
since
there
were
no
styles
of
shakuhachi
during
his
time.
During
the
Meiji
restoration
(1871)
the
sect
of
shakuhachi
monks
(Fuke-‐shu)
was
banned
by
the
government.
It's
use
as
a
ritual
tool
was
outlawed,
but
musically,
it
was
enjoying
great
popularity
among
the
secular
classes,
being
used
in
ensemble
with
koto
and
shamisen
(sankyoku).
However,
the
shakuhachi
was
in
serious
threat
of
becoming
obsolete,
so
the
two
men
responsible
for
taking
shakuhachi
into
the
modern
world
were,
Yoshida
Itcho
and
Araki
Kodo
of
the
Kinko
style.
They
persuaded
the
government
to
let
anyone
play
shakuhachi
as
a
musical
instrument,
thus
making
it
accessible
to
everyone.
It
was
through
their
efforts
that
the
musical
popularity
of
the
shakuhachi
spread
after
it
was
outlawed
as
a
religious
tool.
One
of
Araki
Kodo's
most
significant
accomplishments
was
the
development
of
a
system
of
notation
for
the
music
of
the
shakuhachi
utilizing
the
katagana
script,
which
is
read
vetically
(up
to
down,
and
right
to
left).
Also,
a
system
of
dots
and
lines
was
created
to
indicate
rhythm
and
tempo
when
gaikyoku
(outside
pieces)
were
played.
Three
generations
later,
the
disciple
of
Kodo
II,
Junsuke
Kawase
I
(1870-‐1957)
improved
on
the
the
notation
even
more
making
it
easier
to
read
and
more
accessible
to
the
public.
He
organized
the
Chikuyu
Sha
shakuhahchi
organization
which
became
the
largest
organization
within
the
Kinko
style
and
has
membership
throughout
the
country
and
the
world.
It
is
his
music
which
became
the
standard
for
all
Kinko
players.
Tozan
Nakao
Tozan
(1876-‐1956),
founder
of
the
Tozan
style
of
shakuhachi,
was
born
in
Osaka.
He
came
from
a
musical
family,
his
mother
being
a
daughter
of
a
famous
shamisen
master,
Terauchi
Daikengyo
of
Kyoto.
He
learned
how
to
play
shamisen
as
a
child
and
learned
how
to
play
shakuhachi
on
his
own.
When
he
was
in
his
late
teens
he
joined
the
Myoan
Society
of
shakuhachi
monks
and
developed
technique
with
them.
In
his
early
20's
he
opened
up
his
first
shakuhachi
studio
in
Osaka.
This
was
the
beginning
of
the
Tozan
style.
In
1904
he
began
composing
pieces
for
the
shakuhachi
which
later
became
the
honkyoku
of
the
Tozan
style.
He
was
very
knowlegeable
about
western
music,
creating
new
performance
and
teaching
methods,
and
revising
the
music
for
shakuhachi.
Consequently,
he
was
very
successful
at
popularizing
the
shakuhachi,
attracting
a
large
following,
especially
among
the
youth
of
Kansai.
He
moved
the
Tokyo
in
1922
and
collaborated
with
the
famous
koto
composer,
Miyagi
Michiyo;
but
Kansai
still
remains
the
center
of
the
Tozan
school.
Page
6
playing
with
an
ensemble
of
jiuta
shamisen
and
Ikuta
style
koto.
Furthermore,
both
styles
have
always
had
a
positive
attitude
towards
new
music
and
are
active
in
the
contemporary
music
scene.
• Modern
AKA
gendai-‐kyoku
and
shin-‐kyoku
-‐
(gendai=modern
shin=new
and
kyoku=music)
gendai-‐kyoku
includes
playing
with
non-‐Japanese
instruments,
"Western"
scales,
and
doing
cover
songs.
Shin-‐kyoku
is
playing
new
music
in
an
old
way.
• Honkyoku
-‐(Hon="original/self")
fairly
free
rhythm
having
pauses
where
no
sound
is
made
except
that
of
inhalation
and
often
having
natural
or
spiritual
themes.
Honkyoku
are
often
played
in
the
darker
Insempo
scale
making
use
of
deep
meri
notes
by
lowering
the
head
and
or
shading
finger
holes.
• Ensemble
Sankyoku
-‐(San="three(3)")
shakuhachi,
koto
and
shamisen
with
strict
rhythm.
Most
always
Insempo
or
dark
with
melancholy
or
dramatic
themes.
• Folk
Minyo
-‐(minyo,
uta,
bushi,
buri,
all="song",
"folk
song",
"country
songs",
"songs
of
the
common
working
class
people")
can
be
played
solo
or
with
any
combination
of
vocals,
shamisen,
and
drums.
Almost
strictly
Yosempo
scale
or
"happy"
upbeat
music.
You
bottom
lips
need
to
seal
up
most
of
the
mouthpiece.
If
air
can
escape
at
around
the
mouthpiece
you’ll
really
have
a
problem
trying
to
get
a
note.
Page
7
The
opening
between
your
lips
should
be
no
more
then
the
size
of
an
almond
sliver.
The
opening
should
be
centered
on
the
cut
beveled
edge
of
the
mouthpiece
(utaguchi).
Make
a
'puh'
sound
as
air
gently
escapes
between
your
puckered
lips.
Your
lower
lips
should
be
basically
soft
and
your
upper
lip
will
have
a
tension
in
it
as
it
holds
the
shape
of
your
embouchure.
Your
stream
of
air
should
be
shaped
like
you
were
trying
to
gently
blow
out
a
candle
or
trying
to
make
a
sound
plowing
across
a
beer
bottle.
Only
about
half
of
your
air
will
be
going
into
the
bore
of
the
flute.
The
rest
of
your
air
will
be
going
over
the
outside
(over
top
of)
of
the
utaguchi.
It
can
take
a
good
amount
of
time
just
to
get
your
first
tones.
Concentrate
on
the
feel
and
look
of
your
embouchure.
You
may
get
light
headed
at
first
while
trying
to
blow
the
shakuhachi.
This
is
often
because
you
embouchure
is
too
big.
You’re
expending
a
lot
of
air
that
is
not
being
used
to
make
sound.
Here’s are a couple examples or what an embouchure should look like.
Page
8
Basic
Notes
and
Reading
the
Notation
The Basic Notes: RO TSU , RE , CHI , RI .
The finger holes are numbered on the fingering chart in Japanese from one to five, starting from
the bottom (root end) of the shakuhachi.
MERI
TECHNIQUE
Much
of
the
shakuhachi’s
Japanese
feel
is
done
with
deep
note
bending/flattening
called
"meri".
Meri
notes
are
the
lowered
pitches
achieved
in
several
ways:
by
slightly
dropping
the
chin
inwards
towards
your
neck,
so
your
air-‐stream
changes
direction,
and/or
by
partially
covering
a
lower
hole.
The
flute
stays
at
the
same
position
and
angle.
Try
blowing
an
even
tone
then
slowly
tilt
your
chin
inwards.
The
pitch
will
slide
down.
Some
notes
(tsu
meri)
require
blowing
quite
softly
to
get
the
correct
meri
pitch.
Generally
speaking,
meri
notes
are
played
softly.
However,
with
experience,
players
can
develop
their
meri
technique
to
play
either
softly
or
relatively
loudly
depending
upon
the
musical
application.
There
is
a
certain
tonal
color
or
timbre
associated
with
these
meri
notes
that
forms
a
significant
part
of
the
sound
picture
of
the
shakuhachi.
The
variations
arising
from
playing
notes
in
a
meri
position
lend
character
to
the
aural
palette.
Tsu
meri
is
well
worth
spending
time
exploring.
It
is
pitched
between
E
flat
and
D
(in
most
shakuhachi
traditions,
and
on
a
1.8
length),
and
requires
careful
fingering
on
the
lowest
hole
(1).
Most
of
that
hole
will
be
covered.
Blow
softly
to
get
the
correct
pitch.
The
chin
will
have
to
be
pulled
inwards
quite
significantly.
It
is
useful
to
be
able
to
'roll'
your
finger
over
hole
one
to
adjust
the
tsu-‐meri
pitch.
If
you
move
the
finger
rather
than
roll
it,
you
are
less
likely
to
nail
the
correct
pitch
consistently.
Pitch
accuracy
Page
9
in
the
meri
notes
comes
from
a
combination
of
aural
experience
and
tactile
memory
of
how
the
fingers
are
covering
the
holes.
'Softly'
means
different
things
to
different
people.
Blow
tsu
meri
as
though
you
are
faintly
ruffling
the
wings
of
a
butterfly.
Over
time
you'll
discover
that
tsu
meri,
like
any
note
on
the
flute,
has
a
surprising
range
of
tonal
possibilities,
including
being
able
to
go
quite
loud!
KARI
TECHNIQUE
The
opposite
of
meri,
kari
technique
intends
to
raise
pitch.
Either
push
your
chin
out
(thus
opening
up
the
mouthpiece
and
changing
the
direction
of
airflow)
or
rock
your
head
sideways,
blowing
to
the
side
of
the
sharp
edge
of
the
utaguchi:
achieves
the
same
result.
Page
10
Tempo
Notation
Page
11
Fingering
Chart
Page
12
Beginner
Shakuhachi
Practice
Your
shakuhachi
practice
should
be
based
on
a
progressive
learning
approach.
Basic
mechanics
a. Posture
b. Holding
the
shakuhachi
c. Simple
note
production
i. Check
list
for
making
your
first
sounds
1. Tongue
flat
and
the
tip
toughing
around
the
top
of
the
lower
teeth.
2. Make
the
opening
of
your
mouth
small.
The
opening
should
be
about
the
width
of
the
flute’s
utaguchi
(the
beveled
blowing
edge)
or
smaller.
3. Do
not
blow
too
hard,
softer;
relax
your
arms,
back,
neck,
throat,
jaw,
chin,
cheeks
and
lips.
4. Use
a
mirror
to
check
the
shape
of
your
mouth
and
the
mouthpiece
position.
5. Check
your
lips;
they
should
be
lightly
wet.
6. Before
you
blow,
take
a
deep
breath
and
hold
it
for
a
moment
to
check
items
1
through
5.
Then
blow
and
repeat.
For
your
very
first
note
try
blowing
RE .
This
note
seems
to
be
easier
for
most
people
in
the
beginning.
Using
the
fingering
charts
try
to
make
all
of
the
basic
notes.
d. Reminder
the
basic
notes
are:
RO
TSU ,
RE ,
CHI ,
RI .
e. In
the
beginning
as
you’re
trying
to
make
the
notes
from
time
to
time
go
back
to
the
check
list
above
and
re-‐ground
yourself.
f. As
you
find
you’ve
got
a
note
that’s
not
coming
out
right,
give
that
note
some
extra
focus.
Internet
Resources
Phoenix
AZ
Shakuhachi
Friends
Blog
http://phoenixazshakuhachi.blogspot.com/
European
Shakuhachi
Society
Forum
http://www.shakuhachiforum.eu/index.php
Monty
H.
Levenson
Shakuhachi
Maker
http://www.shakuhachi.com/
The
Shakuhachi
Yuu
Flute
http://www.shakuhachiyuu.com/
Page
13
Page
14
Some good initial info on this page including finger charts: http://www.japanshakuhachi.com/gettingstarted.html
On Breathing
In order to breathe out into the shakuhachi, you first have to take a breath in. How you breathe in affects how you breathe
out. We often hear that abdominal breathing is good, but it is more complicated than that. [Translator's note: Abdominal
breathing is when you breathe such that your abdomen/stomach area expands on the in-breath, whereas chest breathing is
where your lungs/chest expand on the in-breath. Try placing a hand on your tummy to see which you are doing. If your
hand bulges outward when you breathe in, you are breathing abdominally; if it draws in closer to your body on the in-
breath, you are chest breathing. Abdominal breathing elicits a relaxation response too, by the way.] The difference between
abdominal or chest breathing is in how your lungs expand and contract. In abdominal breathing, your lungs expand
vertically as your diaphragm draws them downward. In chest breathing, your lungs expand in/out--they open up like French
doors when you breathe in.
The crucial difference here is how much control you have during out-breaths. The fact is that you have much more control
over out-breaths in abdominal breathing because you have more muscles in that area to control the action. This means that
abdominal breathing gives more control for long, soft notes, or sudden loud ones.
So, the question becomes: How do you get better at abdominal breathing? I mentioned above that more muscles are
involved in abdominal breathing. That means that making it slightly more difficult to take an in-breath encourages
abdominal breathing. For example, try breathing in with your mouth wide open, then through your nose. You are likely to
find that you naturally do chest
breathing in the first instance and abdominal breathing in the second.
There are many reasons why you should not breathe in through your mouth playing shakuhachi: losing your optimal angle
or drying out your mouth are just two of these. Now we can add making it more likely to chest breathe to the list. This is
why you should breathe through your nose. However, sometimes breathing in through your nose can take too much time.
So, one technique I use is to begin breathing in through my nose (abdominally), then continue and finish the breath through
my mouth. It is an interesting phenomenon that even if you switch mid-breath from your nose to your mouth, it will stay an
abdominal breath. Try it yourself, such as in your daily Ro practice. It won't come immediately, but eventually you will
find yourself breathing both abdominally and quickly if you start the in-breathe from your nose and then continue it through
your mouth.
On Breathing, Pt. II
In last month's tip, I talked about abdominal breathing and the benefits of starting breaths through the nose and continuing
through the mouth. However, I received many emails opposing this advice, saying that "you should breathe in through the
mouth" or that "breathing through the nose takes too much time". So, I decided to do some research on the Internet.
Practically everybody for every instrument advises abdominal breathing. However, there is much less consensus on exactly
where to breath in from. I found people advising such diverse things as "breathe through your mouth, except in special
circumstances", "breathe through your mouth as far as you can, then even more through your nose", "breathe through your
nose as though you were smelling a flower", etc., etc. There were so many disparate opinions, it seems the only thing that is
agreed upon is that it's hard to breathe through your nose if it's completely stuffed up!
However, it seems that most people use their noses for in-breaths. Even those who say they breathe in through their mouths
talk about difficulty when their nose is stuffed, which to me indicates that they are actually using their nose.
However, what is important is that you be able to breathe in quickly, quietly, and in large volumes. Any method that enables
this is fine. Try different ways of abdominal breathing through your nose until you hit upon the way that's most natural and
efficient for you.
-----------------------------------------
A Breath "Nozzle"
I have long suggested that people blow ten minutes of Otsu-no-Ro per day to develop good sound and good tone. I have also
suggested that increasing the volume of the inside of your mouth can help you gain a smoother sound. Everybody possesses
different images of what they are doing when they blow on the shakuhachi, so I have used many such images to describe
suggestions of what to do. Here is one that I think works particularly well. Obviously, your breath must pass through your
lips to get to the flute. However, you might have difficulties if you think of your lips as the place where the breath leaves
your body. Instead, try thinking of the breath leaving your body from a place much further back in your mouth. Try
imagining the "nozzle" where your breath leaves your body as lying somewhere farther back in your mouth. If you think
this way, the extra tension you may be holding in your lips will disappear, and your tone will become smoother. Thus, my
advice is to blow from further back from a "nozzle" inside
your mouth rather from your lips. Try it and see how it works.
Breath Control
In my 2/99 column, I talked about playing very quite notes, and how there was great musical value in playing very small,
quiet notes. This time, I would like to talk about something related from the point of view of breath control. I often ask
beginners to play quiet notes for me. One thing that is very interesting is that the length of the notes they play is the same
for small notes as for louder notes (and, since they are beginners, there is not much difference in volume between their loud
and soft notes). This is because they don't have very good control of how their breath leaves their lips, and, like air leaving a
balloon, it all goes out at once.
What is required is breath control. The most basic form of breath control is not letting out any breath at all. For instance,
when blowing long tones of Ro, people often start blowing out immediately after they have taken an in-breath. This is one
chance for exercising breath control they are wasting. Here is my advice. After you take your in-breath, pause very briefly
before letting it out. And, when you do begin to breath out, begin the out-breath very slowly and gradually. Practice making
the beginning of the out-breath ever more slow and ever more gradual. This will help you make great strides in controlling
your breathing. Large, short bursts of breath and sound are very important, but so are long, subtle pianissimo's that seem to
vanish into nothing.
Blowing High Ro
I hear from lots of players that they don't have a lot of success with blowing Ro. The fact is, it's hard to get the sound you
want. I'd say there is no one at all who could get a sound they'd be satisfied with 100 times out of 100 tries. Indeed, if there
were someone who did, that would simply mean that they aren't trying to improve. At any level you play at, you should
always be striving to improve. This means it's natural not to be satisfied with your sound. How, then, do you get this better
sound? If you can't get a good Ro until you are fully warmed up, then that's possibly a sign that you have too much tension
in and around your mouth. In other words, you are using so much muscle to blow at full power that the muscles around your
mouth need to warm up before they are up to the task. This way of blowing tires you out quickly.
Try to relax as much as possible, so that you will be able to play for longer stretches. To do this, increase the inner volume
of your mouth. Some images you can try for this are blowing with your mouth shaped like you are taking an inbreath, or
like you are trying to suppress a yawn.
Something similar can be said for those who have trouble with the higher octave. One way to produce a high octave note is
to increase the speed of the air coming out of your mouth. If you do this by tightening up the muscles around your mouth to
decrease the size of your lip opening (particularly the vertical space between your lips), you will end up with a lot of white
noise in your sound. To get a smoother sound, try using the image of "blowing lots of air farther, just like trying to blow out
a candle beyond arm's reach. It's also effective to try blowing notes as softly as you can in the high octave. One important
part of the practice of blowing Ro is learning how to relax your mouth.
------------------------------
The way a note ends can determine the impact of the whole note. If the note should end with a nice long, clean taper, but at
the end volume, pitch, or color drops off or changes abruptly, then it can ruin the whole thing. Ending notes smoothly
without ruining their beauty is one of the most important aspects of playing shakuhachi, and unquestionably one of the
hardest. I once heard a karate expert talk about how he broke wooden bats on his shin. The secret, he said, was to imagine
that the bat was farther away than it actually was. The reason is that it's a fundamental human instinct to slow down right
before reaching the bat, and you can only break the bat by keeping maximum speed and kicking through the bat.
Professionals in sports like tennis and golf say the exact same thing: hit through the ball.
Therefore, when playing, imagine or pretend that the end of the note is beyond where you actually need it to be. This will
dramatically increase the stability and effect of the end of your notes. In other words: blow through the note.
More on Blowing Ro
It has now been one year since I began this Shakuhachi Tips column. I hope it is helpful to at least some people. For this
month's tip, I would like to return to the basics and talk about blowing Ro again. Is there anybody out there who has blown
Ro every day for 10 minutes for this past year? It sounds easy, but is very hard in practice to accomplish over time, which is
why Watazumi said that "Whoever blows Ro 10 minutes a day can become a master." I think many people find it difficult
to continue this practice because they see it as merely practicing Ro, which would indeed be boring. Instead, how fruitful it
will be depends on how honestly you can observe yourself and how inventive and creative you can be in your investigation
of your own playing.
There's way too much to do in a mere 10 minutes! By investigating your own playing relentlessly, and by using creativity
and ingenuity, you can become your own best teacher. I heard that a world-famous baseball team in Cuba is forbidden from
practicing when the coach isn't there, because repeating bad habits will cause them to become ingrained and incurable.
Shakuhahci is the same way, but it is impossible to have someone looking over our shoulder all the time. Instead, we must
become our own most stern teacher. Are we always playing our best? How can we play better? It is this attitude that
blowing Ro cultivates. Never think of it as just practicing a single note.
Mouth Shape
How much thought have you given to the space between your lips when you blow, the part where the air stream comes out?
Do you experience any of the following?
The cause for these problems can be with the shape of the space between your lips, which can cause the point of sound
production to be small. It's important to make this point as large as possible. When the point of sound production is too
small, even a slight variation in your blowing can cause you to miss it. This can cause 1-2 above. You change the angle of
blowing when playing meri or yuri, which can cause you to slide off the sound producing point if it's
too small. This can cause 3-4 above. Also, overtones (notes above a perfect fifth higher than the note you're playing, or
overtones of the higher octaves) can become "hard" (5 above).
Some absolute beginners are told to pull their lips strongly to the side to get a note. This can indeed help focus the air to get
a note, but it results in a very small point of sound production, causing the five problems above. Remember, it's important to
make the "sweet spot" of sound production as large as possible to get a good, robust sound.
This kind of instruction is always included at Shakuhachi Kenshu-Kan master classes. Since everybody blows a different
way, I can't describe concrete ways to get a larger sweet spot here without leading to misunderstanding. This needs to be
done by a qualified teacher.
Embouchure tips:
1) Jaw drops down and a bit forward till teeth are in line. This changes the inner shape and helps open mouth cavity and
throat.
2) Open mouth and throat cavity equally all around: top of mouth, bottom pocket behind lower teeth and back of throat.
Keep the pressure equal from your lips to your diaphram. Don't focus on one part more than the others. Think
WAAAAAAH. Or AAAAH to fully open inside like when the doctor says "say AAAAAH". Tongue is also pulled down
and back. Mouth cavity expands like a Tiger claw opening. Keep trying to open inside even more than you think possible.
Feels like blowing from deep inside throat, not from lips.
3) Don't stretch lips too wide to the sides. Mainly let the inside shape determine how lips will form. Think of embouchure as
the expanded shape of the inside not shape of lips. Many students spend years playing just from the lips and don't get a full
rich sound. Play from deep inside yourself.
4) Use a very open and relaxed embouchure for note beginnings, with softer playing; use more pressure and smaller opening
for power. Can also reverse this process. If embouchure is big "Blow Slow" so don't run out of air.
5) Try to get full ringing sound esp. on RO without blowing hard, but by opening fully and adjusting to get that ring, willing
it to ring.
Blowing tips:
1) Always sing internally what you are playing, whether scales, runs or melodies.
--------------------------------------
http://www.h3.dion.ne.jp/~take23/eindex.htm
The shakuhachi too has five holes, and each hole has a sound, making up five
sounds. The sounds that the shakuhachi makes are ephemeral and hardly remain in
one's memory. In order to visualize the five sounds, compare them to the five elements respectively, that is,
Though each person may have different ideas and concepts about these five
elements, try to relate them to the sounds. Then come the control of breath and the tranquility of mind. Ask yourself,
Seek the sound which is evoked from within ... improved, polished and
developed inside yourself. The shakuhachi demands of you your candid self~thus, put your whole being into the
shakuhachi. Exhale once and expire. There is no second chance in life. Each exhalation must be pure.
------------------------------------------
Breathing: When approaching shakuhachi, one good way is to visualize a balloon expanding within the diaphragm. You
should rarely blow outward to release the air. Rather, consider the lips/embouchure as a valve restricting the flow as you let
the balloon deflate... the air will naturally release, and that is a type of stream the blowing edge prefers. There are
exceptions, of course, but that's a good rule.
For many shakuhachi notes, "meri's" especially, visualize the air coming from the back of the throat, not the lips. That
smoothes things out.
Never grip the shakuhachi tightly, with the flat part of the thumb up. Let it rest on the side of your thumb, which helps in a
more gentile, relaxed resting of the bamboo in the hands. It should also just be comfortably and lightly touching the chin.
You'll get to know where each flute likes to sit, vertically... i.e., how far up or down, relative to the lips. The tone and
response will dictate that.
The mouth cavity should be like you are saying "Haaaaa" (and "Ho" on some notes) when releasing the air. The tounge will
mostly need to be depressed to created the most hollow cavity possible. For certain breathy effects, the back of the tounge
is lifted slightly.
For many lower octave (otsu) notes, and most 2nd octave (kan) notes, you will find that targeting the blowing edge a
fraction to the right (or left) of center produces better response, but this is not a hard rule. Each instrument will dictate the
"sweet spot" for each note.
From an article on Shakuhachi Breathing :
Breathing is the process of moving air into and out of the lungs.
Thinking of the chest cavity as a cylinder, one can increase its
volume by one of three means:
•Diaphragmatic
•Thoracic
•Clavicular
In the first your belly expands, the second your chest expands and
the third raises your shoulders. Infants and small children use their
diaphragms exclusively for breathing. Chest breathing cannot
occur until considerably after birth, not until the bony chest
matures. Diaphragmatic breathing fills the lower part of the lungs.
Chest breathing fills the middle and upper portions. During normal
activity clavicular breathing only comes into play when the body’s
oxygen demands are very great or one is agitated.
Once the lungs are filled to their capacity, how are they emptied?
What results in exhalation? Relaxation! Everyone has had the
experience of sighing, or letting a deep breath out in a completely
relaxed passive motion. In normal breathing no muscles
contract to push the air out. It is as if the lungs themselves are
pulling the diaphragm up and chest wall in. This is in fact, what
happens. The lungs are elastic, and they shrink back to their
original size once the forces which expanded them are released--
much as a balloon shrinks back to its normal size once the end is
untied. In forced exhalation, the stomach muscles contract to force
the diaphragm upward as it relaxes.
And there are natural sounds which coincide with these zones.
Correctly pronounced the mantra Om moves through the zones--
that's it's purpose. AAAAUUUUMMMM. Another way to learn
and appreciate this is by using distinct sounds. For our purposes
we'll use the sounds of four different exclamations.
For example:
Exercise 2:
Develop a set of breathing-language words for your own use.
They will serve as meta-anchors--directing your physiology in the
direction you desire. When used quietly or sub-vocally your
'breath' words can automatically shift your breathing hence your
physiology hence your mood and resoucefulness. You can now
create your very own 'power' words!
Let's do a little math. 2 psi, that's two pounds per square inch. So a
square of about 7.07 inches on your belly would be around 50
square inches, at 2 pounds each means you should be able to belly
press 100 pounds without much difficulty. Or to make it simple,
place a thick book on the floor, lie on it belly down and press
yourself --same difference.
To play a shakahachi well you'll need to be able to breathe well. If
you'll give as much attention to your breath as you do to your
shak, things will improve rapidly. So, if you want to be a power
breather you'll need to focus only on the IN breath and give your
diaphragm some strength training. The diaphragm is a muscle like
any other and will respond to resistance training.
The other part of flute breathing? Relax the belly--it'll do its thing
naturally.
Todos los derechos de este documento son propiedad de Horacio Curti
The Shakuhachi is a Japanese bamboo vertical flute with only 5 holes. A simple structure instrument,
that posses a very rich variety of tone colors, sound qualities, and timbres.
It is commonly accepted that it entered Japan from China as part of the Gagaku music orchestra
around the VII century. It was later excluded from this form of music and no register is kept until
around the XIII century, when it was adopted by a group of Zen Buddhist monks, as part of their
religious meditation practice. In this context the instrument was not a musical one but a religious tool.
With time this meditations were recovered as musical pieces and formed the group of music now
known as Koten Honkyoku.
Besides Honkyoku, the instrument takes part on different traditional Japanese repertoires such as
Sankyoku or Minyo.
The duration may vary depending on the possibilities. In no case should be less than 90 minutes, with
a ideal time of 120 minutes.
The structure is based on three different elements oriented to generate a clear and interesting event:
music, words and images. The explanations intend to be clear and simple, more as way of giving a
context to the hearing experience than to illustrate academically, not explaining music but giving
elements to get closer to it. The images helps to imagine and make closer unknown instruments and
situations. The recorded and live examples work as the central part of the experience.
The present proposal is based on the conferences given on the subject musicas tradicionales del
mundo I (traditional world music’s I) at the Escola Superior de Música de Catalunya (Superior
Catalonian Music School), Barcelona, Spain, on May and October 2002. The subject is common to all
the students of the Institution and is a general introduction to the theme. This conference was
conceived as a very brief introduction to the subject and the elements related to the instrument and
the music with which is associated in the Japanese traditional culture. Special emphasis was put on
the way this music is perceived and valuated on the traditional Japanese environment.
The duration of the class was of 90 minutes. On each occasion the themes discussed were directly
related to the interests expressed by the students present that day. These conferences –
collaborations, originated a posterior extracurrricular curse of 10 hours dedicated to a practical –
theoretical introduction to the instrument, that was successfully realized on four different 150 minutes
sessions on November 2002, at the same institution.
• The Instrument
• Buddhism / Zen and relations to art
• Other Japanese instruments
• The Honkyoku Music
• Other Japanese musical forms
• Trasmition of the music
• My experience as a western student in Japan
• Notation. Characteristics and functions.
• References
Elements required
• Audio equipment with CD player
• Computer with CD-ROM
• Projector for the CD-ROM images
Horacio Curti
Shakuhachi player & teacher
Shakuhachi and Live Electronics - workshops
1) Listener.
Listener-participants are welcome to sit in on all sessions, without any special requirements. This
level is a kind of gathering of ideas, without putting them into practice directly in the workshops.
2) Performer.
Performer-participants will actively take part in exercises and music-making with shakuhachi and
live electronics (computer-based). To do this, any level of shakuhachi playing beyond "just starting"
is acceptable, but there are certain requirements concerning the technology.
a) The workshops will be based around the (free and totally legal) programme Pure Data (PD).
Active participants will need their own laptops, ideally with PD installed and checked before the
workshops.
b) PD can be found here:
http://msp.ucsd.edu/software.html
We will be using the "vanilla" distribution - the simplest form, without operating system-specific
extras. The version at the time of writing is 0.46.7. This or any later version is acceptable. Please
download PD "vanilla"; I do _not_ recommend downloading PD-extended, as this has compatibility
issues with some computers, and is no longer actively supported.
c) PD exists in builds for Windows, MacOSX, and Linux. I will bring installer USB sticks with me for
all systems, but (I reiterate) it will be better to have PD installed and working on your computer
before the workshops start. Although I have had no problems, some users report that PD can be
tricky to get operating on some computers, so please don't leave installing it until the day before
the workshop.
d) To make use of PD with the shakuhachi, the laptop will need a way of connecting a microphone,
and getting an audio signal out to a set of loudspeakers or mixing console. The minimum
requirement would be an external microphone input (often present as a small socket on the front or
side of a laptop), and a headphone output. If these are working (e.g. with a sound recording
programme), then it should be possible to work with PD.
A better level of sound quality can be achieved with an external audio interface (USB, FireWire
etc.), so if you have some kind of small external interface, please bring it as well.
e) The minimum requirement for a microphone is that it can be connected to the computer or
interface (i.e. it has the right connectors - minijack in the minimal system using the computer's
built-in connectors), and that it can be attached to the shakuhachi. For professional microphones,
the sky is the limit. (If you're feeling like spending a lot of money, a good choice is the series of
miniature microphones by danish pro audio - dpa.) If your budget is tight, a workable microphone is
a small, lapel-style microphone available cheaply from most electronics stores, or a small stereo
microphone such as often used to be supplied with portable cassette recorders. These can also
often be found in electronics shops. If you are buying a microphone, be careful about its power
requirements. Many small microphones need power from the device into which they are being
plugged, and your computer must supply this. (Many laptops can do this, but often the option must
be turned on in a control panel somewhere.) Also, be aware that a cheap microphone is adequate
for learning about PD and experimenting. For serious performing, something better is needed.
f) I will provide velcro strips for attaching simple, small microphones to the shakuhachi.
g) Once you have PD installed and a microphone connected, there is a test routine in PD (in the
"Media" menu in the MacOSX version) which will tell you if you really are getting something from
the microphone, and which gives you a test tone to check whether it can output an audio signal
correctly.
h) For you to practice and experiment without your electronics disturbing other people, a set of
headphones (or bud-style earphones) is recommended. Cheap ones will be adequate, but more
expensive ones give better sound quality.
i) Teaching material (.pdf- or PD-files) will be provided in Prague from USB stick as required.
PD is a very powerful yet inexpensive (= free) way of working with live electronics as a
performance tool. I look forward to exploring it with you.
================================
If sufficient participants are interested, the final session of Jim Franklin's classes on shakuhachi
and live electronics will be devoted to using the shakuhachi with the iPad instead of laptop. While
there are numerous apps available which can be used to apply specific forms of processing to the
shakuhachi, it is also possible to programme on the iPad similar forms of processing to those using
PD (Pure Data) on the laptop, as explored in the previous sessions. This will be examined in the
final class.
Participants wishing to learn about using the iPad like this must be familiar with the concepts
underlying PD; participation in the entire course is thus required.
To use the iPad in this way, participants require the following apps:
- Audulus (audio processing environment for iPad)
- Audiobus (inter-application audio routing system for iPad)
Unfortunately, these are not free, unlike PD. For simple usage, however, one only requires the
inexpensive basic versions; no in-app purchases are required. Participants who wish to work with
an iPad in the final class should purchase and install the apps from the AppStore prior to the class.
Participants intending to use the iPad will also require an iPad-compatible microphone and/or
audio interface, such as those made by iRig, Focusrite and various other companies.
=================================
Jim Franklin
Nyokai-An Dojo
Shakuhachi fingering chart (Kinko notation)
First, the BASIC NOTES section offers beginners a simple, clear guide to the common
non-meri notes without any extraneous information.
Then, the more thorough charts that follow present a full range of common fingerings and
notations with some additional explanations, starting from the lowest note and extending
up into the third octave.
I have restricted myself to common Kinko notations – I have not incorporated any
specially modified characters used in particular schools. I have also left out the often
confusing “slash” notation for meris and chu meris.
I do not include any of the notations used in special techniques such as “ka ra” or “ko-ro-
ko-ro.”
Shakuhachi is a microtonal instrument, meaning that the traditional music often calls for
pitches that fall in between those we commonly use in Western music. I have left out
explanations of the actual sounded pitches, choosing simply to indicate the rough
approximations in Western “ABC” notation. A more precise chart would require
explanations such as “Tsu meri is often played at least 20 cents flatter than a Western E-
flat” etc. etc. As actual pitches vary hugely from school to school and player to player, I
have only occasionally used a minus sign (-) to indicate a usually flatter-than-Western
pitch.
2
General note on meri notation:
In some scores, a meri is indicated by a small slash mark crossing the basic character. Often this slash is
used to indicate a full meri, whereas at other times it is used to indicate a chu meri as distinguished from a
full meri. Because this form of notation is inherently unclear, I have chosen to avoid it in the following
charts.
I have used down arrows to indicate the approximate degree of lowering using the head, with three arrows
indicating the most meri position and one arrow indicating the least.
A minus sign (-) after a Western pitch equivalent indicates that the note is usually played slightly flatter.
I. Lowest octave
NOTES:
1. Some schools consider C# a ro meri and C a ro dai meri ().
2. In many schools, ro often repeats using the second hole (from the bottom of the
flute); in some schools it repeats more customarily using the bottom hole.
NOTES:
1. Tsu chu meri may also be played with both the bottom hole shaded a bit and the
head lowered.
2. All tsu customarily repeat with the second hole.
3
NOTES:
1. Rarely, some schools consider re meri to be F# rather than F.
2. Partially covering the bottom hole on a re meri makes it easy to descend to tsu chu
meri, a common pattern.
3. Re notes may repeat with hole 4, 3, 2, or even 1 depending on the context. If no
hole is indicated, 3 is most common in honkyoku.
NOTES:
1. Occasionally a chi meri may occur in the lower octave (instead of u). This would
simply be played like the third listed fingering for u.
2. On some flutes, especially antiques, it may be possible and even desirable to play
chi dai kari (A#) simply by fingering a regular chi and lifting the head up from
neutral kari position.
3. U and chi customarily repeat with hole 4.
4
NOTES:
1. Some schools of honkyoku, while using essentially Kinko-based notation, follow
the Tozan usage of ha () instead of ri (). This is very common!
2. Ri notes generally repeat with hole 5.
NOTES:
1. Though this is technically a low octave note, the hi character is often used in this
context.
2. Some notation uses i meri, instead of I chu meri, for an approximate C# pitch.
3. These notes are usually repeated with the thumb, by quickly hitting the hole.
Before moving on to the second octave, there are a few low octave straggler fingerings to
cover:
5
This is usually seen as a grace note played before a second-octave
ro, as in the common pattern known as “ha ro.” In a few honkyoku
it appears on its own.
6
II. Second octave
NOTES:
1. Some schools consider C# a ro meri and C a ro dai meri ().
2. In many schools, ro often repeats using the second hole (from the bottom of the
flute); in some schools it repeats more customarily using the bottom hole.
NOTES:
1. Tsu chu meri may also be played with both the bottom hole shaded a bit and the
head lowered.
2. In many schools, tsu meri is lower than a Western D#.
3. A D# / Eb pitch may also be played as a ro kari () with only holes 4 and 5
open and head raised high. This results in a fuller louder sound than tsu meri.
4. All tsu customarily repeat with the second hole.
7
NOTES:
4. Rarely, some schools consider re meri to be F# rather than F.
5. Partially covering the bottom hole on a re meri makes it easy to descend to tsu chu
meri, a common pattern.
6. Re notes may repeat with hole 4, 3, 2, or even 1 depending on the context. If no
hole is indicated, 3 is most common in honkyoku.
NOTES:
1. In some schools, an ichi san no u is called a ru (). This should not be confused
with the use of ru in Kinko notation to mean “hit the first hole.”
2. On some flutes, especially antiques, it may be possible and even desirable to play
chi dai kari (A#) simply by fingering a regular chi and lifting the head up from
neutral kari position.
3. Chi customarily repeats with hole 4.
8
NOTES:
1. Hi in all its forms generally repeats with the thumb.
NOTES:
1. Some schools use i meri rather than i chu meri for an approximate C#.
2. Regular non-meri go no hi (i) generally repeats with the thumb; meri uses the
thumb if it is not partially covered. If the thumb hole is partially covered, in some
pieces go no hi meri and go no hi chu meri may repeat with a push of the breath.
9
III. Third octave
NOTES:
1. Head position (degree of meri) varies quite a bit from flute to flute.
2. Both notes often repeat with the third hole.
NOTES:
3. Head position (degree of meri) varies quite a bit from flute to flute.
4. Both Eb notes often repeat with the third hole; san no ha sometimes repeats with
the second or fourth; yon no ha often repeats with the fourth.
10
And now, the rest of the most common dai kan notes.
NOTES:
1. The dai kan characters sometimes appear to the right of the note.
2. Fingerings may vary considerably from flute to flute.
3. Note that on the alternate fingering for re, the fourth hole is partially uncovered
from the top rather than the bottom.
4. Tsu repeats with the second hole and re repeats with the fourth, third, second, or
even first. If unmarked in honkyoku, use third hole for re repeat.
5. No standard repeat fingerings on highest few notes.
11
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Summary
The Japanese longitudinal bamboo flute, shakuhachi, has only five tone holes. Cross fingerings are
thus very important to play it. Conventionally, cross fingerings are considered to yield pitch
flattening because tone hole(s) below the top open tone hole are closed and the resulting pressure
recovery, which gives a longer end correction, is brought about. Conversely, cross fingerings in
the shakuhachi produce pitch sharpening in many cases, particularly in the second register. This
pitch sharpening by cross fingerings is called intonation anomaly, whose phenomena are measured
and analyzed. In general, cross fingerings yield inharmonic spectra of the input admittance.
However, the input admittance spectra on cross fingerings are significantly affected by the lower
bore below the top open tone hole. Therefore, it is essential to identify and discriminate the
spectra between the upper and lower bores. This bore-mode spectrum identification is effectively
carried out by measuring or calculating the pressure standing-wave patterns along the whole bore.
A spectrum switching between the upper and lower bores is a clue to cause the intonation anomaly.
This is illustrated by considering stepwise shifts of tone holes while keeping the hole-to-hole
distance and by comparing the resulting changes in input admittance spectra. When the spectrum
switching occurs, a docking of the upper and lower bores makes up a higher resonance mode
throughout the whole bore and then leads the intonation anomaly.
PACS no. 43.75.Qr, 43.75.Ef, 43.20.Ks
Figure 2. Calculated input admittances (fingerings D-G). Figure 3. Standing-wave patterns (fingerings A-C).
3.3 Results on standing-wave patterns
The calculation results on internal standing-wave
patterns show a very good agreement with the
measurement results on fingerings A to G [7, 12].
In this subsection, results on fingerings A to C are
just displayed in Fig. 3.
As shown in Fig. 3 (a) on the first mode, the pres-
sure recovery along the lower bore below the open
third tone hole becomes stronger as the second and
first tone holes are closed in succession on
fingerings B and C. Also, a weak discontinuity of
the pressure magnitude is seen at the closed tone
hole. On the other hand, fingering C produces a
very deep trough near the closed second tone hole
as shown in Fig. 3 (b) on the second mode. At this
time the third mode is formed along the whole bore
and the intonation anomaly is caused. It may be
then understood that the lower bore is strongly
docking with the upper bore instead of being
separated at the top open tone hole.
Figure 4. Dependence of intonation anomaly on overall
Although the third modes form the fourth modes tone-hole shift in the shakuhachi. (a): 2nd mode fre-
along the whole bore as shown in Fig. 3 (c), into- quencies on fingerings D, F, and G. (b): changes in input
nation anomaly does not occur. In this case all admittance spectra on fingering G. Spectrum switches
patterns indicate the appreciable discontinuity are indicated by arrows.
(phase change) at the top open tone hole. However, change in the resonance frequency is followed by
cross fingerings B and C easily yields the higher the switching between the modes of the upper and
third mode f3++ as shown in Fig. 3 (d) (cf. Table 1). lower bores. For example, on fingering G the locus
This mode forms fifth mode along the whole bore of f2 switches to f’2 at x = 255 mm and to f’3 at x =
and the intonation anomaly occurs. Both patterns 190 mm. This mode switching is confirmed by
display the continuity (no phase change) at the top checking the internal standing-wave patterns
open tone hole. The docking between the upper and involved (not shown here). The mode switching
lower bores is then much stronger than that in the observed in Fig. 4 (a) is seen as the spectrum
second mode on fingering C. This is probably switching in the input admittance spectra shown in
because the open third tone hole does not function Fig. 4 (b). This spectrum switching on fingering G
as an open tone hole when the resonance frequency occurs in the first and third modes as well as in the
is higher than a kind of cutoff frequency [2, 4, 5] second mode. The spectrum order in the original
defined by a lattice of open tone holes. tone-hole configuration (x = 220 mm) is f’1, f1, f’2,
f2, f’3, and f3. However, when all tone holes are
4. Dependence of intonation anomaly on shifted by 50 mm toward the bore end (x = 270
tone-hole positioni mm), this order is switched to f1, f’1, f2, f’2, f3, and
f’3. At this configuration the second mode on cross
4.1 Overall tone-hole shift fingering G does not bring about the intonation
The correlation between the tone-hole position and anomaly as known from Fig. 4 (a).
the resulting intonation anomaly is discussed by
4.2 Non-adiabatic transition in physics
considering effects of overall tone-hole shift (while
keeping the hole-to-hole distances unchanged). Very interestingly, the spectrum switching demon-
Figure 4 (a) displays the frequency change of the strated in Fig. 4 seems to be an example of the non-
second mode when fingerings D, F, and G are used. adiabatic transition at the crossing of the energy
Positions of all tone holes are shifted upward and level in quantum mechanical systems [13]. A con-
downward in steps of 5 mm. The original position ceptual sketch is depicted in Fig. 5. The abscissa x
of the fifth tone hole is indicated by the dashed line. denotes the parameter controlling an interaction
between two energy states, e. g. molecular configu
It should be noted that a large (discontinuous)
cross fingerings. The spectrum switching due to
cross fingering in the shakuhachi is a good
example of the diabatic transition widely observed
in quantum and classical physics and theorized as
the Landau-Zener-Stueckelberg formula in 1932.
Acknowledgement
This research has been supported by the Grants-in-
Aid for Science Research of the Japan Society for
the Promotion of Science (subj. no. 25560008).
Figure 5. A sketch of the diabatic transition [13-15].
ration in chemical reactions. The ordinate denotes References
the energy of the two-level system. The dashed lines [1] A. Baines, Woodwind Instruments and Their History
(Faber and Faber Ltd., London, 1957).
indicate the unperturbed energies ω1 and ω2 in
frequency units, while the solid lines indicate the [2] A. H. Benade, Fundamentals of Musical Acoustics
(Oxford University Press, New York, 1976) Chapter 21.
perturbed energies ωA and ωB, where the de-
[3] C. J. Nederveen, Acoustical Aspects of Woodwind
generacy at the crossing is broken by an interaction Instruments (Northern Illinois University Press, DeKalb,
which couples the levels. Illinois, 1998, second edition) pp. 50-53, 132-133.
The avoided crossing region is passed by staying [4] J. Wolfe and J. Smith, “Cutoff frequencies and cross
fingerings in baroque, classical, and modern flutes,” J.
on the same branch when an adiabatic transition Acoust. Soc. Am. 114, 2263-2272 (2003).
takes place. However, a non-adiabatic (diabatic) [5] N. H. Fletcher and T. D. Rossing, The Physics of
transition yields the jump to another branch across Musical Instruments (Springer-Verlag, New York, 2nd
the avoided crossing as shown by the arrow in Fig. ed., 1998) Sections 16.9, 15.3, and 8.2.
5. The transition probability is given by the famous [6] T. Terada, “Acoustical investigation of the Japanese
Landau-Zener formula in quantum mechanics. Fig. bamboo pipe, syakuhati,” J. College of Sci., Tokyo 21,
1-34 (1907).
4 (a) (e. g. the green line of fingering G) clearly
demonstrates the jump on the diabatic transition. [7] S. Yoshikawa, “Cross fingerings and associated
intonation anomaly in the shakuhachi,” Tech. Rep.
The embouchure-to-fifth tone hole distance x is Musical Acoust. Res. 32, MA2013-40 (2013). (in
now interpreted as the parameter controlling the Japanese).
interaction between the upper and lower bores. [8] D. H. Keefe, “Theory of the single woodwind tone hole,”
The spectrum switching on the cross fingering J. Acoust. Soc. Am. 72, 676-687 (1982).
revealed in Fig. 4 reflects the diabatic transition. [9] Y. Ando, “Input admittance of shakuhachis and their
resonance characteristics in the playing state,” J. Acoust.
Soc. Jpn. (E) 7, 99-111 (1986).
5. Conclusions
[10] A. Lefebvre and G. P. Scavone, “Characterization of
woodwind instrument toneholes with the finite element
The acoustics of cross fingerings has been ex- method,” J. Acoust. Soc. Am. 131, 3153-3163 (2012).
plored in the shakuhachi. A particular interest is [11] T. Ebihara and S. Yoshikawa, “Nonlinear effects
focused on the intonation anomaly in the second contributing to hand-stopping tones in a horn,” J. Acoust.
and third registers. The switching of the input Soc. Am. 133, 3094-3106 (2013).
admittance spectra between an upper-bore mode [12] K. Kajiwara and S. Yoshikawa, “Discussion on the
internal sound pressure distributions when cross
and a lower-bore mode is observed when the fingerings are used in the shakuhachi,” Proc. Autumn
associated tone hole positions are varied while Meeting, Acoust. Soc. Jpn. 903-906 (2013). (in
keeping the hole-to-hole distances unchanged. Japanese).
[13] H. Nakamura, “New development of non-adiabatic
This spectrum switching causes the intonation transition theory,” J. Phys. Soc. Jpn. 51, 829-834
anomaly by cross fingerings as shown in Fig. 4. (1996). (in Japanese).
Also, when the intonation anomaly occurs, a [14] J. R. Rubbmark, M. M. Kash, M. G. Littman, and D.
docking between the upper and lower bores is Kleppner, “Dynamical effects at avoided level
established as if the top open tone hole does not crossing: A study of the Landau-Zener effect using
Rydberg atoms,” Phys. Rev. A 23, 3107-3117 (1981).
exist. As the result, a higher mode is formed along
[15] L. Novotny, “Strong coupling, energy splitting, and
the whole bore as illustrated in Fig. 3. Such a level crossings: A classical perspective,” Am. J. Phys.
strong bore docking is never expected for usual 78, 1199-1202 (2010).
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PAPER
Abstract: Acoustical differences between normal and cross fingerings of the shakuhachi with five
tone holes are investigated on the basis of the pressure standing wave along the bore and the input
admittance. Cross fingerings in the shakuhachi often yield pitch sharpening in the second register,
which is contrary to our conventional understanding of pitch flattening by cross fingerings and is called
intonation anomaly. It is essential to identify and discriminate the input admittance spectra between
the upper and lower bores on the basis of the standing-wave patterns. Spectrum (or mode) switching
between both types of bores is a clue to the cause of the intonation anomaly. This is illustrated by
considering stepwise shifts of tone holes while keeping the hole-to-hole distances fixed and by
comparing the resulting switches in input admittance spectra. When spectrum switching occurs,
docking of the upper and lower bores makes up a higher resonance mode throughout the whole bore
and then leads to the intonation anomaly. This spectrum switching on the cross fingering is generalized
as the diabatic transition (the Landau–Zener effect) in physics.
and eight sun (about 54 cm) long. Cross fingerings are used
1. INTRODUCTION for Ab , Bb , etc.
Cross fingerings in woodwind instruments are very A Japanese physicist, Torahiko Terada (1878–1935),
significant in musical expressions created by instrument first carried out an accurate measurement of the intonation
players [1]. Tonal pitch, volume, and timbre are appreci- of the shakuhachi [6]. He carefully measured pitch
ably changed by cross (or fork) fingerings from those given frequencies in the first and second registers for 32
by normal fingerings made of a lattice of open tone holes. fingerings, and directed attention to the octave balance. If
However, as modern Western instruments have many tone his intonation table is extensively examined, it is known
holes (whose numbers in the modern clarinet, oboe, and that there are many cases where cross fingerings cause
flute are 24, 23, and 13, respectively), the attraction of pitch sharpening instead of pitch flattening. Unfortunately,
cross fingerings is beginning to be lost. As a result, good his shakuhachi research ended with the measurement. The
opportunities to explore the acoustics of cross fingerings pitch sharpening due to cross fingerings is the reverse of
in woodwind instruments have unfortunately almost been our conventional understanding above [2–4]. Therefore, it
missed. Our conventional understanding of the acoustics of may be called an intonation anomaly in the present paper.
cross fingerings is based on Benade’s and Nederveen’s Nederveen [3] briefly considered this pitch sharpening
textbooks [2,3] and on the work of Wolfe and Smith [4]. due to cross fingering in the second register on an old-
On the other hand, the Japanese longitudinal bamboo model flute for A# 5 with the fingering (), in which
flute, shakuhachi, has only five tone holes (four on the front three holes were closed below the one opened for sounding
and one on the back). This means a decisive importance of the A5 . He also mentioned that a similar phenomenon
cross fingerings in the playing of the shakuhachi. See could be observed on a modern Boehm flute. However,
Ref. [5] for a concise explanation of this instrument. When such a phenomenon in modern flutes has never been treated
tone holes are successively opened from the bottom, D–F– in scientific publications [5]. He explained this intonation
G–A–C–D tones are emitted from a shakuhachi one shaku anomaly by calculating the input admittance of a model
tube (see Fig. A6.3 in Ref. [3]). Another familiar example
e-mail: shig@design.kyushu-u.ac.jp of the intonation anomaly is D# 6 on an alto recorder, which
314
S. YOSHIKAWA and K. KAJIWARA: SHAKUHACHI CROSS FINGERINGS AND INTONATION
315
Acoust. Sci. & Tech. 36, 4 (2015)
316
S. YOSHIKAWA and K. KAJIWARA: SHAKUHACHI CROSS FINGERINGS AND INTONATION
Fig. 3 Standing-wave patterns on fingerings D to G. The measured acoustic pressure pðxÞ is normalized by the acoustic
pressure p0 at the fifth tone-hole position. Left and right columns represent the upper-bore and lower-bore resonance
modes, respectively. The solid and dashed lines represent the modes numerically calculated and not numerically
calculated, respectively.
317
Acoust. Sci. & Tech. 36, 4 (2015)
The upper-bore modes (and their frequencies) are denoted a local pressure maximum was measured near the bore
as f1 ; f2 ; . . . , and the lower-bore modes (and their frequen- bottom.
cies) are denoted as f10 ; f20 ; . . . by using the prime (it is Cross fingering F makes reasonable standing-wave
assumed that fn n f1 and fn0 n f10 for n ¼ 1, 2, and 3). patterns of modes f1 (602 Hz), f2 (1,259 Hz), and f3
Also, subscripts such as ‘‘+,’’ ‘‘++,’’ and ‘‘12’’ are used to (1,860 Hz) along the upper bore, as shown in Fig. 3(e),
discriminate multiple modes in the same mode, such as f3 with some distortions near the closed 3rd and open 2nd
and f3þ ( f3þ > f3 ), and to classify the intermediate mode, tone holes. These modes give intonation anomalies (cf.
0
such as f12 , as briefly explained below. Moreover, solid Table 1). Also, these modes seem to form the 2nd, 4th, and
and dashed lines indicate the modes that are numerically 6th modes along the whole bore. Although the modes of
calculated and are not numerically calculated, respectively the lower bore were measured at f10 (552 Hz), f12 0
(826 Hz),
0 0 0
(cf. Sect. 4). f2 (1,100 Hz), and f3 (1,714 Hz), the f1 (552 Hz) mode
Modes f1 , f2 , f3 , and f3þ are shown in Fig. 3(a) on cannot be calculated because it violates the resonance
normal fingering D. Modes f1 (591 Hz) and f2 (1,185 Hz) condition at the open 5th tone hole [see Figs. 3(f) and 4(c)].
do not show their nodes below the open 5th tone hole due Cross fingering G yields beautiful patterns of modes f1
to the external drive near the bore bottom but show (615 Hz), f2 (1,234 Hz), and f3 (1,846 Hz) along the upper
decreasing amplitudes there. Therefore, the resonance bore, as shown in Fig. 3(g). These three modes give
condition is considered to be satisfied there. Modes f3 intonation anomalies (cf. Table 1) and form the 2nd, 4th,
(1,759 Hz) and f3þ (1,947 Hz) indicate larger amplitudes in and 6th modes along the whole bore. However, mode f3þ
the lower bore and mode f3 shows an antinode below the (1,955 Hz), which is slightly higher than f3þ (1,951 Hz) on
open 5th tone hole. However, these modes tend to form the cross fingering E, violates the resonance condition at the
nodes near the bore top and bottom. Therefore, modes f3 bore end. Also, the lower bore yields beautiful patterns of
and f3þ are regarded as the whole-bore resonance modes. modes f10 (454 Hz), f20 (887 Hz), and f30 (1,505 Hz) along the
On the other hand, f10 , f12 0 0
, f2þþ , and f30 are shown in lower bore, as shown in Fig. 3(h), and these three modes
Fig. 3(b). These modes have higher amplitudes in the form the 2nd, 3rd, and 5th modes along the whole bore.
lower bore. However, f10 (536 Hz) and f12 0
(888 Hz) show However, mode f12 0
(543 Hz) violates the resonance
increasing amplitudes (toward the upper bore) at the open conditions at the open 5th hole and bore bottom.
5th hole, and violate the resonance condition there (mode As explained above, our measurement result in Fig. 3
0
f12 shows the standing-wave pattern and the frequency is consistent with the results in Table 1 obtained from
value intermediate between f10 and f20 ). Mode f30 (1,598 Hz) playing the shakuhachi very well, in terms of the intonation
shows the pressure maximum near the bore bottom, and anomaly. In addition, we may sum up the results as
0
violates the resonance condition there as well. Only f2þþ follows:
(1,416 Hz), which is much higher than f20 (not measured) (1) The intonation anomaly by cross fingerings occurs if
and sufficiently lower than f30 , satisfies the resonance the nth mode of the upper bore forms the (n þ n)th
conditions at the open 5th hole and at bore bottom. mode of the whole bore (the whole-bore modes are
Since cross fingering E closes the 4th tone hole, the produced even below the cutoff frequency) and if
internal pressure takes the maximum near this tone hole, as normal fingering consisting of an open-tone-hole
shown in Figs. 3(c) and 3(d). As a result, the nodes or local lattice forms the [n þ ðn 1Þ]st mode of the whole
minima (kinks) are formed near the open 5th tone hole, and bore. This is exemplified by n ¼ 2 on cross fingering
the resonance condition is satisfied there for all modes E and n ¼ 1, 2, and 3 on cross fingerings F and G.
drawn in Figs. 3(c) and 3(d). Additionally, the upper-bore (2) The intonation anomaly at higher frequencies prob-
modes satisfy the resonance condition at the embouchure ably occurs above the cutoff frequency (around
end, and the lower-bore modes satisfy it at the bore bottom. 1,300 Hz) of the open-tone-hole lattice (cf. Sect. 3.4).
Therefore, all modes measured on fingering E are calcu- This is exemplified by n ¼ 3 ( f3 on fingerings F
lated as input admittance peaks [see Fig. 4(b)]. Note that and G).
cross fingering E cannot produce the 3rd mode ( f3 3 f1 )
of the upper bore. This is because, in the 3rd mode, the 3.3. Results for Fingerings A, B, and C
pressure must be made minimum near the 4th tone hole, Unfortunately, page limitation does not allow us to
as shown in Figs. 3(e) and 3(g). Cross fingering E then explain the results for fingerings A, B, and C in detail. See
gives f3þ (1,951 Hz), which is considerably higher than Ref. [7] for a more detailed explanation. The following
f3 of cross fingerings F and G at 1,860 and 1,846 Hz, may be stated by summing up the results:
respectively. The upper-bore 2nd mode f2 (1,316 Hz) gives (1) The intonation anomaly due to cross fingerings occurs
the intonation anomaly (cf. Table 1). Although mode f3þ if the nth mode of the upper bore forms the [n þ
(1,951 Hz) may be considered as a whole-bore mode, ðn 1Þ]st mode of the whole bore. This is exemplified
318
S. YOSHIKAWA and K. KAJIWARA: SHAKUHACHI CROSS FINGERINGS AND INTONATION
by n ¼ 2 and 3 on cross fingering B [see f2þ up the air column toward the embouchure according to the
(1,038 Hz) and f3þþ (1,485 Hz) in Ref. [7]] and n ¼ transmission matrix (TM) method [8–13]. The 13th con-
2 on cross fingerings C [see f2 (928 Hz) in Ref. [7]]. vergent conical element from the embouchure end (x ¼
(2) However, the intonation anomaly does not occur 540 mm) to the position x ¼ 490 mm is commonly seen
even if the nth mode of the upper bore forms the in classical shakuhachis, although its length and conicity
[n þ ðn 2Þ]nd mode of the whole bore. This is differ individually [14].
exemplified by n ¼ 3 and 4 on cross fingering B [see The end correction E at the embouchure hole is
f3 (1,301 Hz) and f4 (1,880 Hz) in Ref. [7]] and n ¼ 3 incorporated in the 14th cylindrical element with bore
on cross fingering C [see f3 (1,293 Hz) in Ref. [7]]. diameter 2a ¼ 20:3 mm. The length E is determined
so that the first-mode frequency f1 given by numerical
3.4. Cutoff Frequency of an Open-Tone-Hole Lattice calculation matches that given by the standing-wave
The cutoff frequency fc of an open-tone-hole lattice is measurement in the previous section. Also, the tone-hole
defined as central positions and geometries are indicated in Table 2.
The estimated values of E were 37.1, 43.1, 33.9, 44.7,
fc ¼ 0:11cðb=aÞð1=slÞ1=2 ; ð1Þ
48.4, 35.5, and 41.6 mm on fingerings A to G, respectively.
where a denotes the bore radius, b the tone-hole radius, These E values appear reasonable in comparison with
c the speed of sound in the bore, s half the hole-to-hole E ¼ 42 mm used for the design of the modern flute by
distance, and l the acoustical length of a tone hole [2,4,5]. T. Boehm, though these E values tend to lower higher
If averaged values are used to these quantities of our modes [5].
shakuhachi [a ¼ 8:5 mm, b ¼ 5 mm, c ¼ 346:5 m/s at
room temperature, s ¼ 20 mm, and l ¼ 15:5 mm including 4.2. Calculation Method Applied to Tone-Hole System
open-end corrections at both ends (1:5b)], fc is given as The transmission matrix (TM) method, which has been
1,270 Hz. developed and applied to various engineering problems
However, it should be noted that fc of Eq. (1) is such as acoustical filters and mufflers [15,16], is considered
calculated under the assumption of an infinite bore length to be sufficiently established to apply to woodwind
and equally spaced open tone holes [4]. Therefore, Eq. (1) instrument bores with tone holes for calculating the input
may not be applied to cross fingerings. Nevertheless, fc of impedance or admittance [8–13,16]. Keefe’s method
about 1,300 Hz serves to discriminate the modes reflected [5,8,9] defines a tone hole as a T-section network
near the top open hole (mostly yielded below 1,300 Hz) consisting of a series impedance Za and a shunt impedance
from the modes penetrating it [cf. f3 (1,759 Hz) in Zs . The TM method can estimate both the input admittance
Fig. 3(a), f3 (1,846 Hz) in Fig. 3(g), etc.]. and the standing-wave pattern starting from the radiation
impedance and moving up to the embouchure (by multi-
4. NUMERICAL CALCULATIONS plying the matrices corresponding to acoustical elements
The external drive of the instrument tends to cause the such as the bore and tone hole) [8–13]. For the detailed
modes that violate the resonance conditions, as indicated mathematical expressions in the TM method, readers are
in Fig. 3 by the dashed line. Numerical calculation of the directed to Refs. [8–13,16] for the sake of page saving,
input admittance can help discriminate such violating except the following brief comments on related matters.
modes from the not-violating modes. Moreover, internal If the bore bottom corresponds to the radiation end and
pressure distributions (standing-wave patterns) along the there is no tone hole, p1 at the input side of the first
bore are essential to discriminate the modes of the upper cylindrical element with length L1 is given as [17,18]
bore from those of the lower bore. This discrimination
p1 ¼ ½coshðL1 Þ þ ðZc =Zrad Þ sinhðL1 Þprad ; ð2Þ
(mode identification) is almost impossible using only the
limited information of input admittances. where prad denotes the pressure at the radiation end and
Zrad the radiation impedance. The (¼ þ i!=c) is the
4.1. Bore Model complex propagation wave number, where the attenuation
The inner bore of the shakuhachi used for the standing- constant includes the effects of visco-thermal losses at
wave measurement is modeled as a tube consisting of ten the bore boundary layer and is approximated as ¼
cylindrical elements, two divergent conical elements, and 3 105 f 1=2 =a (m1 ) [5] (! denotes the angular frequen-
two convergent conical elements (see Table 2), based on cy), and Zc is the characteristic impedance. For the
the image from the CT scan. The slight bend near the bore calculation of Za and Zs , newly improved equations given
bottom is neglected. Note that the position x along the bore in Ref. [10] are used instead of conventional ones [5,8,9].
axis is taken from the bore bottom to start with acoustic Equation (2) is the starting point of our calculation.
radiation at the open end (radius a0 ) of the bore and work Although Fletcher and Rossing [5] consider that the
319
Acoust. Sci. & Tech. 36, 4 (2015)
Table 2 Bore and tone-hole geometries of the shakuhachi. standing-wave patterns given by the measurement describ-
Position x Diameter 2a Bore/Tone hole (inner dia., length) ed in the previous section or by the calculation.
Even in normal fingering D, two small resonant modes
0 (bottom) 17.8 mm 1st element (divergent conical)
60 mm 15.6 2nd element (cylindrical) of the lower bore f20 (1,084 Hz) and f2þþ
0
(1,354 Hz) appear
119 15.6 1st tone hole (10 mm, 7.7 mm) in the input admittance spectra, as shown in Fig. 4(a). In
119 16.2 3rd element (cylindrical) addition, a small peak f3þ (1,884 Hz) appears above f3
171 16.2 2nd tone hole (10 mm, 7.2 mm) (1,679 Hz) of the upper bore. Such identification is carried
171 16.2 4th element (convergent conical)
200 17.0 5th element (cylindrical)
out through comparison with standing-wave patterns
220 17.0 3rd tone hole (9.8 mm, 7.4 mm) shown in Figs. 3(a) and 3(b). The situation is the same in
220 17.0 6th element (cylindrical) Figs. 4(b), 4(c), and 4(d) for cross fingerings E, F, and G,
284 17.0 4th tone hole (10 mm, 7.0 mm) respectively. Interestingly, spectra of the upper and lower
284 17.0 7th element (cylindrical)
bores appear one after the other in Fig. 4(d) for cross
320 17.0 5th tone hole (10 mm, 9.4 mm)
320 17.6 8th element (cylindrical) fingering G.
350 17.6 Since we do not have enough page space to show the
350 18.4 9th element (cylindrical) results for fingerings A, B, and C, see Refs. [13] and [18]
390 18.4 for their input admittance spectra.
390 18.8 10th element (cylindrical)
430 18.8 11th element (divergent conical)
460 18.0 12th element (cylindrical) 4.4. Results of Internal Standing-Wave Patterns
490 18.0 13th element (convergent conical) The calculation results on internal standing-wave
540 20.3 14th element (cylindrical) patterns show very good agreement with the measurement
540 þ E 20.3 (end correction at the embouchure)
results for fingerings A to G [18]. Of course, it is
impossible to calculate the measured modes violating the
resonance condition near the bore bottom (cf. the modes
shown by the dashed line in Fig. 3). In this subsection,
presence of the baffle has a relatively small effect (except results for fingerings A to C (note that the embouchure end
ka0 1) on Zrad , the fundamental frequency of musical correction E was adjusted to yield the same resonance
instruments is usually in the range of ka0 1. Lefebvre frequency as the measured frequency) are displayed for the
and Scavone [10] proposed the radiation impedance of an respective mode to show the intonation anomaly from a
unflanged tone hole at low frequencies. Their Eq. (10) is different viewpoint.
adapted to our case as follows: Figure 5(a) is on the first mode, where the pressure
along the lower bore below the open 3rd tone hole becomes
Zrad ¼ Zc ½0:25ðka0 Þ2 þ ikð0:7a0 Þ; ð3Þ
higher as the 2nd and 1st tone holes are closed in
where their tone-hole end correction 0:61b is replaced by succession in fingerings B and C. Also, a weak kink of
0:7a0 assuming that the shakuhachi’s bore end made of the the pressure magnitude is seen at the open tone hole. These
bamboo root operates as an intermediate baffle. patterns well illustrate the typical effect of cross fingerings.
Therefore, if prad is adequately assumed, the relative On the other hand, fingering C produces a very deep
distribution of the internal pressure can be calculated from trough near the closed 2nd tone hole, as shown in Fig. 5(b)
Eq. (2). Similarly, the input admittance is calculated by for the 2nd mode. At this time, the 3rd mode is formed
multiplying the bore transmission matrices and the tone- along the whole bore and the intonation anomaly is
hole matrices from the bottom to the embouchure end induced. It may then be understood that the lower bore is
correction E [5,8–13,16,17]. Room temperature is as- almost completely coupled (docked) with the upper bore
sumed to be the average (26.9 C) in the measurement. instead of being separated at the top open tone hole,
because the pattern only indicates a negligible kink (phase
4.3. Results of Input Admittances change) there. The whole-bore mode is thus formed.
The absolute magnitudes of the input admittances jYIN j Although the 3rd modes form the 4th modes along the
on fingerings D, E, F, and G are shown in Fig. 4. In whole bore, as shown in Fig. 5(c), the intonation anomaly
general, cross fingerings change the input admittance does not occur, as noted in the measurement result [cf.
spectra (almost harmonic) of normal fingerings to inhar- (2) in Sect. 3.3]. In this case, all patterns indicate an
monic. This is due to the acoustic characteristics below the appreciable kink (phase change) at the top open tone hole.
top open tone hole. As a result, the upper-bore modes are The bore docking mentioned above does not occur.
mixed with the lower-bore modes, and spectrum identi- However, cross fingerings B and C easily yield the
fication is required. Note that this spectrum identification higher 3rd mode f3þþ , as shown in Fig. 5(d) (cf. Table 1).
is almost impossible without the knowledge of internal This mode forms the 5th mode along the whole bore and
320
S. YOSHIKAWA and K. KAJIWARA: SHAKUHACHI CROSS FINGERINGS AND INTONATION
Fig. 4 Calculated input admittances of fingerings D to G. Fig. 5 Standing-wave patterns for fingerings A, B, and C.
321
Acoust. Sci. & Tech. 36, 4 (2015)
322
S. YOSHIKAWA and K. KAJIWARA: SHAKUHACHI CROSS FINGERINGS AND INTONATION
323
Acoust. Sci. & Tech. 36, 4 (2015)
degeneracy at the crossing is broken by an interaction that open tone hole, it was essential to discriminate the upper-
couples the levels. bore resonances from the lower-bore resonances. Switching
The avoided crossing region is passed by remaining on of the input admittance spectra between an upper-bore
the same branch when an adiabatic transition takes place. mode and a lower-bore mode was observed when the
However, a non-adiabatic (diabatic) transition yields a associated tone hole positions were varied while keeping
jump to another branch across the avoided crossing, as the hole-to-hole distances fixed.
shown by the arrow in Fig. 8. The probability of this The spectrum switching caused the intonation anomaly
transition is given by the famous Landau–Zener formula upon cross fingerings, as shown in Figs. 6 and 7. Also,
[23,24] in quantum mechanics. when the intonation anomaly occurred, docking between
Figure 7(a) (e.g., the green line of fingering G) clearly the upper and lower bores was established as if the top
demonstrates the jump in the diabatic transition. The open tone hole did not exist. As a result, a higher mode was
embouchure-to-fifth tone hole distance x is now interpreted formed along the whole bore, as illustrated in Figs. 3, 5,
as the parameter controlling the interaction between the and 6. Such strong bore docking is never expected for usual
upper and lower bores. The spectrum switching on the cross fingerings. The spectrum switching is a good example
cross fingering revealed in Figs. 6 and 7 well reflects the of the diabatic transition widely seen in physics.
diabatic transition. It is surprising that the cross fingering Cross fingering yielded very complicated spectra of the
and the associated intonation anomaly in the shakuhachi, input admittance, and it was difficult to correctly identify
which are minor topics in musical acoustics, are charac- the upper-bore and lower-bore spectra without the knowl-
terized by the fundamental diabatic transition in quantum edge of internal standing-wave patterns, the importance
and classical physics. of which has not been fully discussed up to now in the
Very recently, Adachi [25] has proposed a simplified framework of woodwind acoustics.
model to explain the mechanism of the intonation anomaly Also, the cutoff frequency of the open-tone-hole lattice
by considering Nederveen’s example discussed in Sect. 5.1. seemed to play a significant role in producing the intonation
However, his model is restricted to the conventional anomaly upon cross fingering, though it was difficult to
adiabatic transition, such as that seen in two strings coupled exactly define the cutoff frequency of cross fingerings.
with a bridge [5], and cannot be applied to the diabatic Below the assumed cutoff frequency, the intonation
transition characterized by the jump from one branch to anomaly was caused by the resonance in the lower bore,
another. Also, as pointed out in Sect. 5.1, his f2þ mode which produced a higher whole-bore resonance mode.
(higher than the f3 mode at first) cannot be recognized as a Above the cutoff frequency, the top open tone hole did
second mode of the left-hand bore and this mode should be not function as an open tone hole, and the resonating
defined as f10 , as illustrated in Fig. 6(b). A more relevant pressure wave in the upper bore penetrated into the lower
model should incorporate mode switches such as that bore without significant reflection at the open tone hole.
observed between f2 and f10 (Fig. 6) and mode jumps such However, since this pressure wave was reflected at the bore
as those observed between f2 and f20 and between f2 and f30 bottom, a standing-wave pattern of a much higher whole-
(Fig. 7). The mode identification, which has been carried bore resonance mode was produced, as shown in Figs. 3
out very carefully in this paper, is essential for creating a and 5. Such a standing-wave pattern causes the intonation
theoretical model applicable to cross fingerings and the anomaly above the assumed cutoff frequency.
associated intonation anomaly in the near future. It seems that the acoustics of cross fingerings has
just come into new phase with the associated intonation
6. CONCLUSIONS anomaly in the shakuhachi. Relevant physical modeling of
The acoustics of cross fingerings was explored in the the spectral (or mode) switching that causes the intonation
shakuhachi through the measurement and calculation of anomaly is expected in the near future.
pressure standing waves and the calculation of input
admittances. Standing waves and input admittances were
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
calculated by the transmission matrix method with the This research was supported by Grants-in-Aid for
tone-hole matrix formulation. A particular interest was Science Research (subject numbers: 22652018 and
focused on the intonation anomaly due to cross fingerings 25560008) of the Japan Society for the Promotion of
in the second and third registers. The results of the Science. This paper is dedicated to the late Professor
measurement and calculation displayed good agreement Yoshinori Ando (1928–2013) in memory of his great
concerning the acoustical characteristics of cross fingerings contributions to shakuhachi acoustics. Also, the authors are
and their associated intonation anomalies. grateful for the comment on the diabatic transition made
Since the cross fingering tends to divide the instrument by Professor Kin’ya Takahashi of the Kyushu Institute of
bore (air column) into the upper and lower bores at the top Technology.
324
S. YOSHIKAWA and K. KAJIWARA: SHAKUHACHI CROSS FINGERINGS AND INTONATION
(in Japanese).
REFERENCES
[14] Y. Ando, Acoustics of Musical Instruments, 2nd ed. (Ongaku-
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[3] C. J. Nederveen, Acoustical Aspects of Woodwind Instruments, drical transmission-line elements,’’ J. Audio Eng. Soc., 41,
2nd ed. (Northern Illinois University Press, DeKalb, Illinois, 471–483 (1993).
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325
by
Yûkô Kamisangô
a) Gagaku Shakuhachi – the first schakuhachi to arrive in japan, it had six holes and was a
slender, highly refined forerunner of the later five-holed shakuhachi. This instrument was
used in the early gagaku court orchestra. Several of these shakuhachi are preserved in
excellent condition at the Shôsô-In imperial repository in Nara.
b) Tempuku – although not called „shakuhachi“ as such and having an entirely differently
shaped mouthpiede, the tempuku is close enough in shape and hole configuration to be
classified as a shakuhachi. Made from a thin, light piece of bamboo, the tempuku has five
holes and flourished in the Satsuma area (present day Kagoshima Prefecture) around
Japan's Middle Ages (12th - 15th centuries). At present there are only a few players in the
Kagoshima area who maintain the tradition.
c)Hitoyogiri Shakuhachi – also frequently referred to simply as the „hitoyogiri“. The name
apparentlyderives from the fact that the flute is constructed from a single node section (hito
– one, yo – node, giri – cut) of the bamboo. Having five holes, there were hitoyogiri of
varying length and pitch in use during the Muromachi period (1392 – 1568), but from the
end of the 16th until the beginning of the 17th century, the hitoyogiri pitched at ôshiki
(around present day A4) was most prevalent. Midway into the 17th century, the hitoyogiri
started to die out and, although an attempt at revival was made in the early 19th century,
the hitoyogiri shakuhachi soon became extinct for all practical purposes.
d)Fuke Shakuhachi – the immediate precursor of the present-day shakuhachi. During most
of the Edo period, this shakuhachi remained the exclusive domain of the celebrated
komusô monks of the Fuke sect of Zen Buddhism and is often reffered to as the „Komusô
Shakuhachi“. It was from this time that the heavy root end of the shakuhachi was utilized in
making the instrument. Like the tempuku and hitoyogiri, the Fuke shakuhachi also had five
holes. All shakuhachi types mentioned above except the gagaku shakuhachi are
considered variants of the same basic prototype.
2. Ancient Shakuhachi
Origin of the Shakuhachi in the Tang Dynasty
The instrument known as the shakuhachi originated in China, around the beginning of the
Tang period (early 7th century, AD). One of the earliest references to the shakuhachi is a
passage from the Lü Cái Chuan (Chronical of Lü Cái) found in the Tang Shû (Tang
Documents: „Lü Cái (in Japanese rosai) made 12 typs of shakuhachi, all differing in length
and pitched to the 12 pitches“. Lü C,'ai was a figure, who helped plan and participated in
an major renovation of the Tang period music system in China between the years 627 and
649. Prior to this renovation, China's vertical blown flutes were classified into two types, a
„long“ and a „short“ flute. The „long“ flute was prevalent and was made in 12 different sizes
– one to match each tone of the traditional 12-tone key system used in ancient China. The
„short“ flute, however, was available only in a limited number of pitches. According to the
Tang Documents, Lü Cái improved upon the „short“ flute by creating a full set of 12. The
flute pitched to the huángzhông (Japanese: kôsho) key ( although there is a disagreement
among scholars, most concur that huángzhông was approximately equal to the modern
day pitch of D4) was one shaku and eight sun (shaku was the official unit of length used in
ancient China and later in Japan – there were 10 sun in each shaku), or one shaku, hachi
(eight) sun, therefore called „shakuhachi“.
The pipes used in ancient China to determine the pitches, called lü, were closed at the
end, lika pan pipes. The pipe for the huángzhông pitch was nine sun in length. Since
vertical blown flutes lite the shakuhachi are open at both ends, it must be twice the length
of the lü pitch pipe – one shaku eight sun (18 sun) – in order to sound the same pitch.
Although the shaku was the official Chinese unit of measurement, the lenth of the shaku
varied from each dynasty; therefore the shaku employed during the Tang dynasty, known
as the ritsu-shaku, is not the same length of the shaku length used in Japan since the Edo
period, called the kane-jaku. Of the eight shakuhachi preserved in the Shôsô-In, the
longest one is 43,7 cm, almost exactely the length of the Tang period shaku.
Dengaku
I take out the shakuhachi from beneath my sleeve,
to blow it while waiting and
The wind through the pine -
scatters flowers as though a dream
How much longer will I have to play
until my heart is quiet again?
Kouta
My shakuhachi is blameless yet
I toss it at the pillow.
It makes a sound katari as it hits the wood rim,
Yet even the sound does not make it less lonely nor less sad
to sleep alone.
Kouta
I blow you while I wait
I blow you later in my disappointment too -
Worthless Shakuhachi!
Amidst spring flowers who should care that the wind blows?
It is not the wind, but the shakuhachi of the komo.
The commentary which accompanies this poem explains that „the komosô is absorbed in
visiting the houses of both rich and poor, begging and playing shakuhachi – that is all they
can do.“
Although originally the Chinese characters for komosô were written with komo (straw mat)
and sô (monk) which, as mentioned, conveys a feeling of mendicancy and shabbiness, the
title for the above poem is written with characters ko (emptiness), mo (illusion) and sô
(monk), which conveys a more serious, religious feeling. Also, the use of the word
„absorbed“ (Japanese sammai, Sanskrit samadhi) in the commentary indicates that by this
name the monks were not just Japanese Middle Ages' equivalents to wandering hippies,
but were actually involved in Buddhist disciplines. Much more is this the case with the
komusô of the later Edo period, who were organized into a Buddhist Zen sect and had a
network of temples across the country. The characters for komusô are written
appropriately with ko (emptiness), mu (nothingness) and sô (monk).
Although the Edo-period komusô used the root end Fuke shakuhachi, it is hard to
determine exactly what kind of instrument the komosô used. Judging from the fact that
they were primarily individual wnadering beggars who played alone, their flutes were
probably entirely handmade and non-standard, wiht little regards to length, pitch or shape.
According to the Boro-no-Techô (Handbook of Boro Monks, 1618), their shakuhachi was
five-holed and included three nodes of bamboo. In the Kanden Kôhitsu written by Ban
Kôkei (1733-1806), there is a passage which reeds: „Nowadays we call those who carry
shakuhachi and beg for rice komusô“, but in the Kanjinshô Uta Awase (poetry contest
collection), they are termed komosô, and in paintings they are depicted with long hair,
wearing straw mats tied to teir waists.
As can be seen in the above drawing, the shakuhachi played by this komosô is certainly
not a thin, hitoyogiri type of instrument. It seems that basically the hitoyogiri komosô and
komusô are all related. From this variety of shakuhachi, the komusô of the Fuke sect
chose the heavier, longer shakuhachi as their instrument.
The tones of the shakuhachi „hitoyogiri“ may satisfy for one night,
But sleeping with you just one night is not enough.
Although theses references indicate that hitoyogiri was a common term from the 15th and
early 16th century, most pre-Edo references use only the term „shakuhachi“, and the term
„hitoyogiri shakuhachi“ became popular only from the 17th century – probably because of
the need to distinguish it from the Fuke shakuhachi. Afterwards, the A4-pitched hitoyogiri of
the Edo was often referred to only as the „shakuhachi“ - a term which seemed to include
both the Fuke shakuhachi and the hitoyogiri.
From the mid-16th century, there was quite a lot of interest in the hitoyogiri as a musical
instrument, as evidenced by the large number of instruction and music books published at
that time. A person called Sôsa was the primary instigator in creating artistic interest in the
hitoyogiri, and such Edo-period publications as the Shichiku Shoshin-shû (beginning
Pieces for Strings and Bamboo), Dôshô-Kyoku (Pieces for the Vertical Flute), and
Ikanobori (another collection of hitoyogiri pieces) all attribute Sôsa as the source of their
pieces and the founder of the hitoyogiri playing. However, there is nothig that tells us about
Sôsa as a person or when he lived. Although there are some minor discrepancies between
these three works, they contain numerous mention of monks and warriors, hinting that
Sôsa was a recluse or a hermit.
The personal history of Sôsa may be unclear, but Omori Sôkun (1570-1625, five
generations down from Sôsa) comes across as a very clear, important figure in these
works. Sôkun was a descendant of Ohmori Hikoshichi – a retainer of the famous first
Ashikaga Shôgun Takauji (1305-1358) – and Sôkun himself had served as retainer to the
great general Oda Nobunaga (1534-1582). After Nobunaga's death, Sôkun became a
recluse and devoted himself to study of the hitoyogiri, gaining fame both as a player and
the second founder of hitoyogiri music (Sôsa being the first).
Tanteki Hidenfu (Secret Pieces for the Short Vertical Flute) was written in 1608 by Sôkun
and is probably the oldest extant collection of pieces for the hitoyogiri. The collection
contains about 79 different very short solo instrumental pieces (called te, as opposed to
kyoku which is the usual modern term for „piece“) with such titles as „Netori“, „Shôte“,
„Honte“ „Kochigo“, etc. The notation is written in the Japanese katakana syllabary.
Although it is difficult to reconstruct in their entirety all fo these pieces, they seem to have a
musical relationship with the later Fuke shakuhachi solo pieces.
The efforts of Sôkun, who was also the author of the Shakuachi Tekazu Mokuroku (1624),
took the hitoyogiri out of the world of wandering beggar-priests and recluses into the
general society where it was treated like a musical instrument. The number of musical
works and treatises still extant from that period indicates that the hitoyogiri reached a fairly
high level of popularity.
Interestingly, the word „hitoyogiri“ never appears in the Tanteki Hidenfu. Except for the title
„tanteki“- which literally means „short flute“ - the hitoygiri is referred to only as the
„shakuhachi“, the fingering charts given in this book are for the hitoyogiri pitched at A4
(ôshiki), but references for fingerings on flutes of differing lengths (G4, B4, D5 and E5) are
also provided. In comparison, the fingerings for the hitoyogiri contained in Shichiku
Shôshin-shû and Ikanobori, published 50 years later, are only for the A4 ôshiki flute. This
indicates that although the A4 hityogiri was prominent during Sôkuns' time, there were still
other lenghts of hitoyogiri being played, but half a century later all hitoyogiri music and
references were limited to the instrument pitched at A4.
In addition to the Sôkun school of hitoyogiri playing, there was a rival style called Seijitsu.
This style, however, was overwhelmed by the Sôkun style and soon disappeared.
Fostered by the relative artistic freedom of the early Edo period, the hitoyogiri flourished.
Publicatgions containing music, musical instruction, songs, and fingerings such as the
Dhichiku Shôshin-shû (Beginning Pieces for Strings and Bamboo – 1664), Dôshô Kyoku
(Pieces for the Vertical Flute – 1669), and Ikanobori (collection of hitoyogiri pieces – first
published in 1687 then later published in a larger work, Shichiku Taizen in 1699) were
available to the general public. Some of these works included folk and dance songs, and
much of the music consisted of ensemble pieces for koto, shamisen and hitoyogiri. At this
time, there was already a differentiation made between hitoyogiri pieces played alone,
called te (now called honkyoku) and pieces played in ensemble, rankyoku (now known as
gaikyoku). There were also players who specialized in only te or only rankyoku.
In spite of the hitoyogiri's widespread popularity in the early Edo period, by the middle of
the 18th century interest in the instrument quickly waned, and by the early 19th century the
hitoyogiri tradition had all but died out. An Edo physician, Kamiya Juntei, attempted a
hitoyogiri revival in the second and third decades of the 19th century. Kamiya seemed
extremely commited to his revival. He changed the name of the hitoyogiri to kotake („little
bamboo“) and, adding classical pieces together with about 30 of his own compositions,
published Shichiku Kokin-shû and numerous other musical scores. Nonetheless, except
for a handful of enthusiasts, his efforts failed in reviving the instrument, and by the end of
the 19th century the hitoyogiri was finally extinct.
The lenght of the A4-pitched hitoyogiri was 33,6 cm, or one shaku, one sun one bu (1
shaku = 10 sun, 1 sun = 10 bu). Some people, like Kamiya, arbitrarily set the length at one
shaku eight bu to try to maie it similar (at least numerically) to the shakuhachi's length of
one shaku eight sun, but this was meaningless.
The hitoyogiti's fingering resemble that of the Fuke and present-day shakuhachi, except
the upper octave pitches on the hitoyogiri tend to become sharp. Fingering also tends to
be haphazard and confusing, oftentimes with the same fingering syllabe signifying more
than one pitch. The lower notes can be fingered the same as the lower notes of the
present-day shakuhachi, but the fingering for the higher notes is quite different. The upper
octave is also limited, the total range being only one actave and a fourth, compared with
the 2.5 octaves of the modern shakuhachi. Half-holing – an indispensable technique on
the modern shakuhachi – apparently was never used in the hitoyogiri pieces. Instead,
cross-fingering techniques were used to play half tones and tones between the holes.
Because of the hitoyogiri's small holes, however, half-holing is almost impossible.
Furthermore, changing pitch through alteration of jaw angle, meri and kari is also difficult
due to the small blowing hole.
The hitoyogiri pitched at A4 is most suited to play the Ritsu scale; D, E, G, A, B, which is
probably one of the reasons it remained after the other lengths of hitoyogiri were no longer
used. On the other hand, the Miyako Bushi flatted seconds scale, which was so important
throughout the Edo period, was extremely difficult to play on the hitoyogiri. One of the
reasons for the hitoyogiri's demise is precisely due to the fact that it couldn't handle the
narrow half tones of the Miyako Bushi scale. General history books in Japan classify the
hitoyogiri as an instrument of the early Edo period, but considering the fact that the
hitoyogiri – through its musical limitation – wasn't suited to the Miyako Bushi scale, it
should be more properly classified as the shakuhachi of the Middle Ages.
The Kyotaku Denki disproved; Nakatsuka Chikuzen's Historical View of the Kinko
Shakuhachi
Lack of any concrete proof substantiating the above-cited legends concerning the origins
of the Fuke sect and komusô, plus many other inconsistencies, make the Kyotaku Denki
difficult to accept as truth.
Would it be possible for the shakuhachi to be transmitted 16 generations after Chôhaku
and introducedto a foreign guest without there being mention somewhere? There is no
written record of this in China. Even if Hottô-kokushi did bring the shakuhachi back to
Japan and his disciples wandered around the countryside playing it, it is very likely that
some kind of record would remain, but nothing in the Kamakura Period documents
(corresponding to this time) mentions this incident. True, the tempuku flourished in an
obscure corner of Kyushu, but it is highly unlikely that someone playing the shakuhachi
around the vidinity of the capital city Kyoto would go unnoticed. Furthermore, if indeed
Kusonoki no Masakatsu was the original komusô, then it means that the komusô costume
and paraphenalia – tengai basket hat, sashes, handwear, and footwear – would have been
in use by the late 14th century, but there is nothing to substantiate that, either. In short,
these legends cannot be verified through cross references.
The Kyotaku Denki Kokuji Kai is the only published resource material on the origins of the
fuke sect, and it is generally considered to be specious.The document consists of a
manuscript (Kyotaku Denki) in Chines kanbun style by a priest called Tonwa, followed by a
translation and commentary in Japanese (Kokuji Kai). However, nothing is really known
about Tonwa except that he was a Zen priest during the Kan'ei Period (1624-1644). The
original manuscript was said to have been in the possession of the Ano family, but there is
no substantiating proof for this, either.
In a picture scroll relating the origins of the temple Myôan-ji there is also mention of the
Kyotaku Denki, but the date and origin of this scroll are unknown. Interestingly, the Kokuji
Kai Japanese commentary was edited and published in 1795, a period when the Fuke sect
was starting to experience difficulties and began losing some of the special porivileges
granted to it by the Tokugawa government. This fact, plus the high degree of fantasy found
within the legend itself, suggests, in all probability, that the Japanese commentary to the
original legend was published at thes particular time with a definite purpose in mind – to
dress up the old legend and provide the failing sect with a sense of legitimacy.
Nonetheless, the prototype of this legend seems quite old. The famous shibboleth of the
Chinese Zen master Fuke, „Myô to rai, myô to da...“ (originally from the 9th-century Rinzai
Roku – The Teachings of Rinzai) can also be found in the aforementioned Boro-no Techô
(1628), along with a passage which states „Master Fuke was the founder of the komosô“.
Likewise, the Shichiku Shoshin-shû (1664) makes mention of this legend: „Certainly, the
origins of the Fuke shakuhachi are unclear, but although it is sait that Hottô (Hottô-kokushi
or Gakushin) of Yura was the founder of this Way, we find it hard to accept...“ The fact that
this legend appears in these sources indicate that the kyotaku Denki was not entirely
made up by Edo period Fuke monks. At least from around the end of the 16th century,
when komosô were prevalent, Fuke was regarded by some as the founder of the fuke
sect. Of course, the members of the Fuke sect took this legend for truth. Even today, many
shakuhachi players involved in transmitting the Fuke shakuhachi pieces still strongly
believe the Kyotaku Denki, and throughout the end of the Edo period and into the 20th
century, this legend was taken as undisputable fact concerning the origins of the Fuke
shakuhachi.
Little research concerning the legend's objectivity and accuracy was undertaken until
Nakatsuka Chikuzen, an avid shakuhachi player and scholar, undertook an extensive
study of its origins. His findings were published between 1936 and 1939 under the title
Kinko Ryû Shakuhachi Shikan (A Historical View of the Kinko Shakuhachi) in Sankyoku (a
magazine, published from 1921 to 1944, devoted to the traditional music of shamisen, koto
and shakuhachi). His original intent, stated in the preface, was to research with the
assumption that the legend contained in the Kyotaku Denki was true, but in the process of
his investigation, he had the opporunity to examine all of the archieves at myôan-ji, plus
the material remaining at Kôkoku-ji which related to this legend. Slowly, doubts built up
within him concerning its veracity.
Briefly stated, Nakatsuka discovered, while persuing the Myôan-ji archieves, that records
and events supposedly reaching far back – for example the temples' histories. Lineage of
the priests, and posthulous teachings of various masters- were in fact fabricated at a later
date. At Kôkoku-ji (Myôan-ji's mother temple), Nakatsuka delved into the dairies kept by
Hottô-kokushi (Gakushin) during his studies in China and after he returned home, the
correspondance which took place between the temples Kôkoku-ji and Myôan-ji, and many
other important documents. Nowhere in the diaries was there mention that Hottô-kokushi
came into contact with te shakuhachi while in China or brought one back to Japan. The
name „Kichiku“ appears nowhere, and the four disciples who supposedly returned to
Japan with Hottô-kokushi were no more than mere men-servants. Because nothing could
be found relating to the shakuhachi, Nakatsuka could not substantiate even le least part of
the legend contained within the Kyotaku Denki. Putting together the various legends and
stories found at Myôan-ji, Nakatsuka surmised that it only became a bonafide temple at
the beginning of the Edo period (early 17th century). Before that it was no more than a
stopping-off place for wandering komosô monks – hardly in the same class as a temple.
Furthermore, Nakatsuka discovered through letters remainig at Kôkoku-ji that Myôan-ji, by
altering documents, had contrieved its relationship with Kôkoku-ji at a later date. During
the course of his research, Nakatsuka changed his beliefs about the Kyotaku Denki and
sat that it was based upon flimsy and specious legends, purposely falsified. From here,
Nakatuska directed his attention to the reasons for this falsification and began research on
the rise and fall of the Fuke sect during the Edo period.
Before introducing the results of this research, however, it is necessary to examine the
Fuke sect and its relationship with the Edo government, including the special privileges
which the government granted this sect.
The Fuke Sect's Suizen – Lifestyle ans Music of the Komusô Monks
After the Fuke sect was established, it developed a set of intrasect rules based on the
government's directives. The first directive, issued in 1677, specified three points: the
method of choosing the head priest for the main and subsidiary temples, the method for
choosing applicants (checking the credentials of those who wished to become komusô),
and how to deal with crime and rule-breaking within the sect. These three points became
the basis for all the sect's rules and regulations.
The entrance requirements became quite stringent. Komusô applicants had to be samurai,
requiring impeccable references and undergoing a thorough check. Then, after paying the
required fee, the applicant had to swear his faithfullness at the grave of the founder before
he was given the komusô's three tools and three seals. Those tools consisted of a
shakuhachi, a tengai basket hat, and a kesa sash worn over the kimono. The three seals
were identification papers which included a honsoku, a kai'in, and a tsûin. The honsoku
was the komusô's licence, and therefore his most important document. Permission to enter
the wect was called „Conferment of the Honsoku“. The kai'in were personal identification
papers, and the tsûin enabled the komusô to travel freely about the country.
The hierarchy of the temples consisted of the head priest, deputy to the head priest, office
manager, monitor (who kept discipline among the ranks), master of ceremonies and his
assistant, and the komusô monks themselves. Daily activity centered around playing the
shakuhachi. In the morning, the managing priest would play „Kakuseirei“, an awakening
piece which started the day. The monks would gather in front of the altar and perform the
piece „Chôka“ to gebin their daily sevices, followed by a Zen session. During the day the
monks practiced shakuhachi, underwent training in the martial arts, and went begging. In
the evening, they played the ritual piece „Banka“ before sitting Zen again. Esoteric
practices at night included playing the pieces „Shin'ya“ and „Reibo“. In addition, each
monk was required to go begging three days a month. During their medicant wandering,
they played pieces such as „Tôri“ („Passing“), „Kadozuke“ („Street Corners“) and
„Hashigaeshi“ („Returning the Begging-bowl“). When two komusô met while begging, it
was customary to play the pieces „Yobi Take“ („Call of the Shakuhachi“) or „Uke Take“
(„Answer of the Shakuhachi“). When on the road and wishing to stay in a komusô temple,
they played „Hirakimon“ od „Monbiraki“ („Open the Gate“) to gain entrance. Practice and
etiquette differed from temple to temple but remained basically the same.
Ritual pieces, and even the pieces which seemed like entertainment for the monks were
part of Zen training called suizen. The word zazen, familiar in the West, refers to Zen
meditation whie sitting („za“). „Sui“ means to play or create a sound on a wind instrument.
Therefore, it was a „blowing Zen“. Actually, suizen of the komusô didn't remain all that
aloof from the world of secular music. There was considereable contact between the two
worlds which resulted in shakuhachi pieces being influenced by secular music. When this
happened, komusô usually rationalized it by renaming the piece with a Zen-sounding
name or adding some Zen pilosophy to the playing instrudtions.
As an instrument, the shakuhachi is well suited to Zen training. The long continuous tones
require an unbroken concentration of mind and breath. The instrument is neither too loud
no too soft – perfect for those wishing to walk the path of moderation. The soft tones are
very rich, quieting, and can be minutely altered. Each player produces a different sound,
which reflects the subtle variations between each individual. The simple instrument gives
birth to tones which are rich and mystic. All these aspects of the shakuhachi lend itself to
introspection, meditation, and spiritual discipline. It is not surprising indeed that siuzen was
born aout of the shakuhachi. Even though the Edo period Fuke sect untertook
questionable practices and contained its fair amount rogues, their practices and lifestyle
was based on an honest and sincere disire for spiritual enlightenment. If the suizen idea
was in its infancy during the times of the komosô, it reached refinement and idealization
with the establishment of the Fuke sect.
The pieces which the komusô played, called honkyoku, were all born from this Zen spirit,
and the musical characteristics of these pieces have their origins in suizen. As honkyoku
are essentially solo pieces, the rhythm, phrasing, and musical arrangement are freely
structured. Understanding the differences between indiviuals or schools deepens with
practice of suizen. Even today, performers who play honkyoku maintain that these pieces
should be freely interpreted by each individual. Although sometimes this is an excuse for
sloppy playing, it also exhibits a Zen way of thought.
Along with the change in organizational structur and daily life of the komusô, their morals
and characters also changed, and the dubious image of the komosô monks faded away. In
the Kiyûshôran (1830), the following can be found commenting on this change: „There's
been a change in the attire of the komusô, and now it's very different from before. Around
the Jôô and Meireki periods (1650s), they had yarô cuts ( a style with the top of the head
shaven) with dishveled hair and wore the usual woven basket hat with a simple kimono. At
the beginning of the Genroku period (1688-1703), they started to wear kesa sashes and
the basket that was more open underneath. In the Kan'en period (1748-50), their kimono
started to look like they do today (1830), with round stitched brocaded waist bands. The
bottom of the basket hat was wide and had a small window. From the Meiwa period (1764-
71), they began to carry a brocaded flute case at their hips, wear narrower basket hats,
and look like dandies.“ The deep tengai basket hat which completely covers the head and
hides the identitiy of the player actually wasn't used until much later.
In 1759, the Edo government ordered an investigation into Reihô-ji's practice of conferring
professional names on laymen, but the temple countered with the argument that, like
names used by haiku poets, they were to be taken extremely lightly. But only Reihô-ji
conferred these names; the other Edo komusô temple, Ichigetsu-ji, did not. Jumping on
this inconsistency, the government issued a very severe directive. It is not known if this
cirective was taken seriously or not, but the increasing amount of shakhachi teaching to
laymen laid the ground work for the later fuki awase sho public shakuhachi studios.
The Gayû Manroku (1755) notes the following concerning ensemble playing during this
time, although not in a very complimentary light: „Nowadays there's something long and
thick called the shakuhachi. It's used with the sangen (shamisen), and it can also play low
sounds. As for the tone, it's vulgar.“ the painting known as Utakeizu (1782) depicts a koto,
shamisen, and shakuhachi in ensemble on stage.
In 1792, Reihô-ji and Ichigetsu-ji answered an inquiry sent by the government. Aooarently
the government asked „Do you think it all right that you teach the shamisen and kokyû
(bowed lute)?“ Couching their answer carefully, they replied that „it really shouldn't be
done, but it seems some who don't understand this are teaching privately, but as long as
we don't hear directly about these activities, there's nothing we can do.“ In another inquiry
sent by the government in 1847, asking if teaching popular shakuhachi and shamisen
didn't hamper their activities as a religious sect, they answered, „We are sincerely
grievious for the trouble we are causing...“
The Demise of the Fuke Sect – Misuse and Forfeiture of its Special Privileges
The various special privileges of the Fuke sect were not granted from the beginning, but
came slowly about as a fait accompli. From the very beginning the Fuke sect provided the
government with a means to keep check on loose rônin (masterless samurai) and use
these rônin as spies. Therefore, the government lent its tacit approval to the sect's
demands for privileges. In order to assure continued protection and patronage by the
government, it was imperative that hte Fuke sect keep its onw house in order. For this
reason, during the first 80 years of the sect's existence, (up to the mid-18th century), the
Fuke sect and its komusô were woll ordered and probably caused a few problems with
society at large. Nonetheless, there was always the danger of misuse of the sect's
privileges. The case of conferring professional names to laymen is a good example of how
discipline within the sect gradually became lax. However, that this name-selling was
institutionalized and controlled still indicates a semblance of order and discipline. The rule
excluding anyone except bonafide samurai from joining the Fuke sect slowly crumbled,
and anyone – townsmen, farmers, etc. - who paid the right amount of money could join the
ranks. This led to a further deterioration of rules and order within the sect. Soon there were
„monks“ who had joined the sect only to enjoy its special privileges and beg for cash. As
previoulsy explained, there were kenbun yaku or special komusô whose job was to keep
order within the ranks, but even they could not keep up with the increasing amounts of
fakery and misuse of the privileges.
In one sense, however, the deterioration of the Fuke sect was inevitable in this particular
age. Within the sentiments of the general poplace at this time there brewed an atmosphere
of laxness and disregard for rules. Over 100 years of peaceful, albeit ttotalitarian, rule by
the Tokugawa clan created a sense of stagnation and the vigor and energy which
premeated the mood of early Edo waned, in its place crept a corruptive idleness. The
change in komusô costume described earlier (for example, the use of a brocade flute bag
and other „dandy“ attributes), reflects this change in popular attitudes.
Furthermore, in an age of peace and stability the komusô were no longer valuable as spies
and „secret police“ for the government. This increase in the number of directives and
inquiries sent to the Fuke sect by the government around the end of the 18th century
indicates that the government was not willing to tolearte the sect's special privileges. With
the general laxation of rules within the socielty, certainly the government considered the
thorough decadence of the Fuke sect quite troublesome. A directive issued in 1774 notes
that komusô were extorting an threatening villagers, and it indicated that from hereon
komusô who engaged in illegal acts must be arrested.
It is at this time that an attempt to resurrect the Fuke sect can be seen in the form of the
Kyotaku Denki Kokuji Kai (1795). The appearance of the Deichô Okite Gaki, which lists so
many special privileges, also dates from around this time. Much later, in a 1841 report
submitted to the governmental Council of Temples and Shrines, the Fuke sect assiduously
defends the true nature of the Fuke sect, but by this time it was too late to stop the sect's
demise.
At last, in 1847, a governmental announcement was circulated which categorically denied
the Fuke sect's special privileges. Outwardly, the announcement only prohibited extortion
(by means of „begging“) which was prevalent among komusô. The announcement stated
that since the Fuke sect was supposedly a branch of the Rinzai Zen sect, its members
should uphold the high ideal of Zen, which didn't include providing rônin samurai with
hiding places. In addition, it was stressed that their begging practice should be conducted
in the same humility as in other religious sects, etc. This announcement effectively
negated all the special privileges contained in the Keichô Okite Gaki, and as a result, the
influence and prestige of the sect quickly declined.
The shock effect of the government's announcement to the Fuke sect cannot be
underestimated. Within the Myôan-ji Temple's scroll can be seen a memo distributed to
the komusô which demanded self control on the part of its members – advice no doubt
strongly colored by the government's announcement. In spite of this attempt at self control
and revival, the Fuke sect never did regain strength but limped along until the Meiji
Resoration, when both the Edo government and the Fuke sect met their final demise.
ISBN 978-91-7447-427-5
All images and other plates are used by special permission by the proprietors.
The name of the proprietor is listed in each case within the caption to the image or plate.
No reproduction or other usage of images in this book is allowed without prior consent by
the proprietors.
Cover photos:
Yamaguchi Shirō and Yamaguchi Gorō. Used by courtesy of Yamaguchi Tomoko.
Three Meiji-period komusō. From the Ida Trotzig Collection. Used by courtesy of the
Etnografiska museet, Stockholm. The image has been cropped slightly on the left side; no
significant detail has been omitted.
To
RVRSF
Acknowledgements
First of all I would like to thank my supervisor, Professor Gunilla Lindberg-Wada, for all
her efforts and support. The discussions I have had with her, both at seminars and in private
meetings, have always been fruitful and stimulating. Her comments and questions have
given rise to new and important aspects of the material, without which I would have had
difficulty in continuing my research. This thesis probably would not have been what it is
without Professor Lindberg-Wada’s critical readings, and her fantastic ability to put the
finger on the problematic spots.
My old friend and colleague from the time I studied at the Tokyo University of the Arts
(formerly: Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music), Associate Professor Saitō
Mitsuru, has given important input to the content of the text, and he was also kind enough to
provide me with some material that was only available in Japan. He was a discussion
partner and proofreader when I wrote my Master Thesis, and he has followed my theoretical
framework since the mid-1990s.
I would also like to thank my colleagues at the Department of Japanese Studies,
especially Staffan Lindström and Mitsuyo Kuwano-Lidén, for their critical readings and
comments during our internal seminars. Mr Lindström has also been very helpful in reading
the kanbun (literary Chinese) texts, and we have had many stimulating discussions about
Buddhism in general, and Ikkyū Sōjun in particular. Ms Kuwano-Lidén has always
provided critical viewpoints on the text, which I might not have noticed otherwise.
Ms Ulla Wagner has given important comments from her perspective as an
anthropologist, which have had a very stimulating effect on my work. Professor Staffan
Carlshamre, my philosophy teacher in the early 1980s, had the kindness to attend the final
theory seminar. I am also grateful to the other participants in the final seminars, Docent
Christina Nygren, Assistant Professor Akihiro Ogawa, and Dr Bengt Pettersson, who
provided important perspectives from their respective fields.
My student and longtime friend, Ms Margareta van Gilpen, a musican and musical
therapist, has participated in most of my seminars, providing her outsider perspective and
raising important questions. My childhood friend, Mr Anders Lindeberg, read the final
manuscript from his perspective as an interested but nevertheless total outsider to the
material. He provided also important comments about readability and line of thought, which
I might not have noticed otherwise. Dr Jim Franklin, a composer, scholar, and shakuhachi
musician, gave his input on language aspects, as well as comments on the content; for this I
am very grateful.
I would also like to thank the museums and university libraries that gave me permission
to use images from their respective collections (in alphabetic order): The Etnografiska
Museum and the Museum of Far Eastern Antiquities in Stockholm, the Kyoto University
Library, the National Diet Library, the National Museum of Japanese History, the Suntory
Museum of Art, the Tohoku University Library, the Tokyo University of the Arts, the
Yonezawa City Library and the Yonezawa City Uesugi Museum. Thank you for letting me
use these valuable images. I would also like to extend a special thanks to Yamaguchi
Tomoko, who let me use a precious photograph of her father and grandfather for the cover
of this thesis. I am also grateful to Ms Natalie Schneider, who provided some of her photos
of instruments, and to Mr Monty Levenson for his input on the making of shakuhachi.
There are several other people at the Stockholm University, Department of Oriental
Languages, that I would like to thank: my fellow PhD students, especially Eva Aggeklint,
who has helped with Chinese language issues and stimulating discussions; the staff at the
Asian Library, Nobuko Kuramasu and Olivier Höhn, who have helped me locate material
that I have had problems finding; the administration staff, Annika Lundström and Viveca
Hellström, who have always been supportive and helpful in administrative and practical
matters.
I began studying shakuhachi under the guidance of the shakuhachi master Yamaguchi
Gorō (1933–99) in 1985. I would not have been where I am now without his constant
support. He took me under his wing when I received a scholarship from the Japanese
Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology in 1993, enabling me to
study and conduct research on shakuhachi and performance practices for four years at
Tokyo University of the Arts. At the end of his life, in the summer of 1998, knowing that he
was dying of cancer, Yamaguchi Gorō bestowed on me a shihan master licence and made
the effort of selecting a professional name for me.
I would like to extend a sincere Thank You to all the people involved. Without your
support it would not have been the same. This said, any faulty interpretations or points of
discussion, typing error or strange usage of the English language that may remain in the
present study are all products of my own writing, and I am solely responsible for the text.
Finally, I would also like to express my deepest gratitude to my family, my wife Ryōko
and my children Viktor, Rikard, and Sofie, for their longtime support. I have been away
many long days and nights, and I hope that I can make up for this in the future. This extends
also to our still unborn baby, Frida, who is expected to enter this world any day now.
Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period ............. 102
4.1 The Legendary Origin of the komusō and the Fuke Sect ............................................................ 103
4.1.1 The Legend According to “Kyotaku denki”........................................................................ 104
4.1.2 A Discussion of “Kyotaku denki” ....................................................................................... 106
4.2 The Invention of a Tradition........................................................................................................ 111
4.2.1 The 1677 Memorandum ...................................................................................................... 111
4.2.2 The “Keichō okite-gaki” ..................................................................................................... 113
4.2.2.1 The Different Copies of “Keichō okite-gaki” ................................................................ 115
4.2.2.2 The Content of “Keichō okite-gaki” .............................................................................. 116
4.2.2.3 Mikami Sanji’s Rejection of the Authenticity of “Keichō okite-gaki” ......................... 122
4.3 Shakuhachi in the Edo-period Society ........................................................................................ 124
4.3.1 Shakuhachi Lineages in the Edo Period .............................................................................. 124
4.3.2 Social Aspects of Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo-period Society ........................... 126
4.4 The Concept of Dynamic Hearsay .............................................................................................. 131
4.4.1 Dynamic Hearsay and Invented Tradition .......................................................................... 131
4.5 The Construction of an Origin ..................................................................................................... 135
4.5.1 Fifteenth Century: Ikkyū Sōjun ........................................................................................... 136
4.5.2 Sixteenth Century: Taigen-shō and Popular Songs ............................................................. 142
4.5.2.1 Taigen-shō ..................................................................................................................... 142
4.5.2.2 Popular Songs ................................................................................................................ 144
4.5.3 Seventeenth Century: Hayashi Razan and Early komusō Documents ................................ 146
4.5.3.1 Hayashi Razan and Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi ................................................................. 146
4.5.3.2 Early komusō Documents and Early Historical References .......................................... 148
4.5.4 Conclusions ......................................................................................................................... 150
Figures:
Figure 1: Molino’s concept of ‘total social fact’ and ‘total musical fact.’ ................................................................... 65
Figure 2: Encoding and decoding in a linear communication theory........................................................................... 67
Figure 3: The concept of the tripartition. ..................................................................................................................... 68
Figure 4: Nattiez’s “Pyramid of stylistic relevance” (p. 136). ..................................................................................... 69
Figure 5: Nattiez’s “Pyramid of stylistic relevance” revised, as applied to the present study. .................................... 70
Figure 6: Analysis of example phrase. “Hi-fu-mi Hachi-gaeshi no Shirabe” (Yamaguchi Gorō. Victor, 1999). ..... 258
Figure 7: The tripartitional flow. Example 1, the relation between Composer – Performer – Audience. ................. 261
Figure 8: The tripartitional flow. Example 2, the relation between Cultural Context – Performer – Audience. ....... 262
Figure 9: The tripartitional flow. Example 3, the relation between Oral Tradition – Transmitter – Learner. ........... 263
Figure 10: Relation between internal and external contexts. ..................................................................................... 270
Figure 11: Definition of terms denoting structural elements. .................................................................................... 272
Figure 12: Comparison between language, music, and myth..................................................................................... 283
Figure 13: Terminology introduced on the level of morphemes. ............................................................................... 283
Figure 14: Terminology for functionality of the analyzed entities. ........................................................................... 284
Plates:
Plate 1: A shakuhachi. .................................................................................................................................................. 20
Plate 2: Two komusō walking the streets. (Etnografiska museet, Stockholm)............................................................. 22
Plate 3: Nakatsuka Chikuzen. (National Diet Library) ................................................................................................ 76
Plate 4: Shakuhachi played by the author. ................................................................................................................... 83
Plate 5: The author's shakuhachi in the standard length of 1 shaku 8 sun. .................................................................. 84
Plate 6: Various kinds of similar instruments. (Photo: Natalie Schneider) .................................................................. 86
Plate 7: Close-up of mouth-pieces (uta-guchi). (Photo: Natalie Schneider) ................................................................ 86
Plate 8: Illustration in Taigen-shō. (National Diet Library) ......................................................................................... 91
Plate 9: A hitoyogiri belonging to the temple Hosshin-ji. ............................................................................................ 92
Plate 10: A komosō playing shakuhachi. Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase (Suntory Museum of Art). ..................... 93
Plate 11: A komosō playing shakuhachi in Kanden Kōhitsu. (National Diet Library) ................................................ 95
Plate 12: Shinzei nyūdō kogaku-zu. Shakuhachi performer in gagaku outfit. (Tokyo University of the Arts) ............ 97
Plate 13: A komusō with tengai, Suzuki Harunobu. (Museum of Far Eastern Antiquities, Stockholm). .................. 119
Plate 14: Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase, Number 46. (Tohoku University Library) ..................................... 159
Plate 15: Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase, hōka in Number 49. (Tohoku University Library). ....................... 160
Plate 16: Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase, biwa-hōshi in Number 23. (Tohoku University Library) .............. 167
Plate 17: Shaseki-shū, Chōkyō-bon. (Kyoto University Library) .............................................................................. 180
Plate 18: Shaseki-shū, Yonezawa-bon. (Yonezawa City Library) ............................................................................. 182
Plate 19: The Kōsetsu-bon of Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase, Pair Number 6. (Suntory Museum of Art) ........... 187
Plate 20: Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase, Pair Number 6. (Tohoku University Library) ...................................... 189
Plate 21: Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase, Poem Number 6. (Tohoku University Library) .................................... 190
Plate 22: Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase, Poem Number 22. (Tohoku University Library) .................................. 195
xii
(Plates, cont'd)
Plate 23: Rakuchū-rakugai-zu byōbu, Machida-bon. (National Museum of Japanese History) ................................ 205
Plate 24: Rakuchū-rakugai-zu byōbu, detail of Plate 23. (National Museum of Japanese History) .......................... 206
Plate 25: Rakuchū-rakugai-zu byōbu, Uesugi-bon. (Yonezawa City Uesugi Museum)............................................ 206
Plate 26: Somakusha in Shinzei nyūdō kogaku-zu. (Tokyo University of the Arts) .................................................. 226
Plate 27: From “Shizu no Kyoku” in the Miura Kindō notation (1): “Not in Kinko-ryū, but in Ikkan-ryū” ............ 234
Plate 28: From “San’ya Sugagaki” in the Miura Kindō notation (2): “Ikkan-ryū” left, and “Kinko-ryū” right ........ 234
Plate 29: The string instruments koto and shamisen in ensemble. (Etnografiska museet, Stockholm) ..................... 238
Plate 30: Kinko-ryū notation. Based on the Kindō notation. (Calligraphy by Satō Ryōko in Linder, 2011) ............ 257
xiii
要約 (Abstract in Japanese)
日本音楽における「伝統」の脱構築
尺八の研究 ― 歴史的真正性と伝統の伝承
リンデル 儘盟 グンナル
要約
本研究は、日本における尺八の歴史とその音楽の伝承についての研究である。本論文のも
っとも中心となる課題は、「伝統」という概念について考察し、「伝統」が必ずしも真正
の起源を基礎とするものとは限らないということを、尺八を例として明らかにすることで
ある。
尺八には日本固有の起源があり、それにともなった伝統があるという説は、現在広く
受け入れられているが、これはおそらく社会政治的な (socio-political) 理由のもとに、
1900 年代に行われた尺八の歴史に関する研究の中で作り出されたものであると筆者は論
じる。
尺八に関連した研究はそのほとんどが歴史的な考察であり、そこでは尺八の起源、楽
器としての尺八、そして尺八音楽について議論がなされてきた。江戸時代において尺八は、
こ む そ う
普化宗の僧すなわち虚無僧によって宗教的な道具(法器)として使用されており、彼らは
尺八の起源を 9 世紀の中国の禅僧 Puhua(普化)にさかのぼるものと主張していた。それ
に対し、1900 年代の初頭に行われた尺八に関する初期の研究では、そのような尺八の伝
説的な起源について反証が行われている。それらの研究の中で日本の研究者たちは、江戸
ぼ ろ こもそう
時代以前にさかのぼる尺八の日本固有の起源論を提示し、また、それが暮露および薦僧と
いう別の仏教僧集団につながるものであると述べている。
筆者は、まず、そのような尺八の伝説的な起源について紹介し、また、暮露、薦僧、
虚無僧が江戸時代の早い時期には同様のものとして見なされるようになった経緯について
考察する。さらに、日本人研究者の研究が提示し、現在広く受け入れられている尺八の日
本固有の起源論とその発展の過程を分析し、それに対して反論を試みる。そこでは、日本
人研究者のほとんどの研究が参照している、暮露と薦僧に直接につながる資料の詳細な分
析を行う。
本論文中では、「伝統」の概念に関してもう一つの観点を取り上げる。それは、伝統芸
能において伝承されるものは何かという観点である。日本における研究では、「型」 、つ
まり、その芸能特有の特質が含まれる固定化されたフォームが、日本の伝統芸能の特筆す
べきものとして論じられており、それが伝承されると述べられている。筆者はその「型」
の伝承が、尺八を例としたときにどのように行われているかを調べて考察し、教える者か
ら学ぶ者へ伝承される要素の中には必ず「伝統」の本質が含まれる、という考えに対して
反論を行う。そして、この本質主義的な観点とは対照的に筆者が主張するのは、伝統芸能
の一例としての尺八において伝承されるのはそのような意味での「型」ではなく、それは
むしろ個々の伝承者のレベルでの、より緩やかな「音楽の持ち味」あるいは「表現方法」
であり、「型」はそういう意味にとらえ直されるべきだということである。本論文では、
アスペクト
尺八の伝承における諸要素について論じ、また、この伝承における「伝統的」な 様 相 を構
成しているものが 、もしあるとすれば 何であるかを追究する。
xiv
Notes on Romanization, Spelling, and Translations
All translations from Japanese or other languages are my own, unless otherwise specified.
All romanizations (transliterations) are based on the modified Hepburn system. A macron is
used to indicate long wovels, except for words with a common and generally accepted
spelling in English, e.g., ‘Tokyo’ rather than ‘Tōkyō.’ A hyphen is used to (1) indicate
honorific prefixes (e.g., o-, mi-, go-), but also to separate words in compound, e.g., modern,
kindai, and modernization, kindai-ka. When required for the proper reading, an apostrophe
is used as a marker between morae (see Section 5.1.4 for an explanation of this term). For
example, the word sanya is written as san’ya to differentiate this from sa’nya. In the
romanization of classical Japanese, I use the modern reading while keeping the old writing
in the Japanese original: おきゐる becomes okiiru, and いとふ is transliterated as itou.
Names and words in Chinese are transliterated according to the pinyin system. For
Korean names I use the McCune-Reischauer system.
Japanese, Chinese and Korean words and names are given with Chinese characters in
cases where I find it to be of interest or where it would facilitate further studies or research
on behalf of the reader. Common words, names of people who are well known, and names
and words of less interest, are only given in transliteration.
Notes on Names
Japanese personal names are given with family name first, followed by the personal name,
e.g., Nakatsuka Chikuzen. In some cases the name is followed by a title, e.g., Hottō Kokushi,
the National Teacher Hottō, or Shōtoku Taishi, the Crown Prince Shōtoku. In a few cases,
for example, Arisawa and Morinaga, I have kept their names in Western order since they
have conducted their research and are active in a Western academic environment.
For personal names and names of texts or geographical locations outside of Japan I use
(the transliteration from) the original language, if applicable with Chinese characters and the
Japanese reading in footnotes or within brackets in the text, e.g., Lu Cai (呂才, J. Rosai). In a
few cases where the reading of a foreign name is more commonly known with the Japanese
reading in the English speaking community, I use the Japanese reading with the readings in
the original language given in footnotes or within brackets in the text, e.g., Rinzai (臨済, C.
Linji), Fuke (普化, C. Puhua), and so on.
xv
Vertical two-character repetition marks in Japanese quotes, , are substituted with two
horizontal single-character repetition marks: 々々. Vertical single-character repetitions ゝ are
also replaced with 々.
For Japanese words and concepts I use italics, and single quotation marks for the English
equivalent or translation. I also use single quotation marks for concepts, like ‘tradition,’
except for when it appears in a title or headline. In those cases the word is italicised. I do not
use italics for Japanese words in translated quotes unless someone other than myself has
made the translation and he or she uses italics in the text.
For quotes from Japanese and Chinese sources, the original is given in a footnote, except
for cases where I find it suitable to keep the original in the text. I also give the Chinese
character in a footnote for words and terms that are discussed, except for places were I find
it appropriate and necessary to keep it in the text.
Notes on Lexica
I use the following abbreviations for common and often quoted lexica. In the text I give the
volume number (where applicable), the word, and the page number for the paper media
lexica, and the word when referring to online resources.
st
BKJ Nakamura Hajime, ed., Shin Bukkyō-jiten, (1 ed. 1962), Tokyo: Seishin Shobō, 1987.
DAIJIRIN Sanseidō Daijirin, 1988
HHJ Kikkawa Eishi, ed., Hōgaku Hyakka-jiten, Tokyo: Ongaku no Tomosha, 1984.
st
KOGO Ōno Susumu, et.al., ed., Iwanami Kogo-jiten, (1 ed. 1974) Tokyo: Iwanami, 1992.
nd
KOKUGO Shōgakukan Nihon kokugo daijiten, 22 volumes published 1973–1975, 2 print. 1976.
st
Morohashi Morohashi Tetsuji, ed., Taishūkan Shoten Daikanwa-jiten (1 ed. 1957), 1986 (rev. 1984)
MW Merriam-Webster
NELSON Andrew N. Nelson, The Original Modern Reader’s Japanese-English Character Dictionary,
(1st ed. 1962), Tokyo: Tuttle Publishing Co., Classic Edition 1995.
NOD Hirano Kenji, Kamisangō Yūkō, Gamo Satoaki, ed., Nihon ongaku dai-jiten, Tokyo:
Heibonsha, 1988.
xvi
ONLINE RESOURCES
MW/OR Merriam-Webster, at http://www.merriam-webster.com/
OED/OR Oxford English Dictionary, at
OMO/OR Oxford Music Online, at http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/
EB/OR Encyclopaedia Britannica, at http://www.britannica.com/
YHJ Yahoo Hyakka-jiten, Online Encyclopedia available at http://100.yahoo.co.jp/.
xvii
Period Names and Years
On the next page I include a table of names of historical periods. The periodization is my
own, but I have consulted the following Japanese and English language sources:
Several periods overlap, and there are of course several points that can be discussed,
especially in the division of older and contemporary history. However, I find the division
I have made here suitable for the present study. The period names and years are used for
pragmatic reasons, to facilitate the historical position of events; I do not intend any
revision of historical periods, if such should be implied by the divisions made.
I use the word ‘period’ both for the longer historical blocks, normally covering more
than one political period, and for the names of the socio-political period designations
commonly used in historical studies. For the longer blocks I capitalize the word ‘Period,’
e.g., Medieval Period, but use lower case for the shorter, e.g., Kamakura period.
I use the word ‘era’ for the further division of periods into shorter time spans,
coinciding with but not equivalent to the reign of a certain emperor or empress: an
emperor or empress would reign during one or more eras. The eras are called nengō (年
号) in Japanese, and the practice of naming eras began in year 645 with the Taika era, in
which Emperor Kōtoku, the 36th emperor according to the received history writing,
reigned. To make the text easier to read, I do not use era names except where needed for
clarification. When era names are employed, the years of the era are given explicitly.
xviii
Era Names and Years
古墳 Kofun 250–late 7 C. th
Tombs were being erected from mid 3rd C., until late 7th C. Yamato Period (大和), 300–710
飛鳥 Asuka 593–710
Some sources put Asuka in the Protohistoric Period.
奈良 Nara 710–784
(784–794 the capital was located in Nagaoka)
平安 Heian 794–1185
(Taira no Kiyomori in control 1158; the Genpei War 1180–1185).
Medieval Period (late 12th to mid 16th centuries) chūsei jidai 中世時代
鎌倉 Kamakura 1185–1333
室町 Muromachi 1368–1573
(Ashikaga Yoshimitsu acceded to office in 1368. The two courts unified in 1392).
Early Modern Period (17th to late 19th centuries) kinsei jidai 近世時代
江戸 Edo 1603–1867
(In 1600 Tokugawa Ieyasu won the battle at Sekigahara)
明治 Meiji 1868–1912
大正 Taishō 1912–1926
平成 Heisei 1989–present
xix
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Chapter 1 – Introduction
Plate 1: A shakuhachi.
1.1 Background
The shakuhachi ( 尺八 , Plate 1) is a vertical end-blown bamboo flute,
possibly with roots in the ney, an ancient flute made of reed. The ney is a
commonly used instrument in Central Asia, and it has a history that goes
back to the third millennium BCE.1 The ney is probably related to the
Chinese xiao.2 In the Tang dynasty China (618–907) the most commonly
used flute was chiba, the Chinese reading of the characters 尺八, and the
supposed ancestor of the Japanese shakuhachi.3 The name of the instrument
refers to its standard length: shaku (chi in Chinese) is a unit of length
measurement, and hachi (ba in Chinese) means ‘eight,’ referring to 8 of the
length unit sun, which is a tenth of a shaku; the standard length is thus one
shaku and eight (hachi) sun,4 which in today's measures is approximately
54.5 centimetres. It should also be noted here that in the course of history,
the unit shaku has differed in actual length.5
The shakuhachi has a long history in Japan; it is historically proven that
it came to Japan in the eighth century by way of the Korean kingdom Paekche.6 Some later
sources indicate that it may have entered the country already in the sixth century (cf.
Section 7.2.2), but the chiba seems to have been revived from an older instrument in the
early Tang dynasty China, probably around the 630s (cf. Chapter 3). In Japan the
1
OMO/OR: ney, March 1, 2011.
2
In Japanese shō, xiao (簫), or dōshō, dongxiao (洞簫), not to be confused with the mouth organ shō (笙). It is
believed that the xiāo came from the west to China as a reed flute. NIPPONICA: shō, March 21, 2011.
3
OMO/OR: xiao, March 1, 2011.
4
For example the text Shichiku shoshin-shū (Collection of Pieces for Beginners of Strings and Bamboo) from 1664
(see Chapter 2), indicates that the hachi could be either sun (寸) or the shorter measure bu (分), where 1 sun is
equivalent to 10 bu.
5
At the time of the Taihō-rei (701) the Tang measures were still in use. There were shō-shaku 小尺 and dai-shaku 大
尺, first with the character for koma 高麗 added, referring to the Korean peninsula, but in 713 this name was
forbidden. The measures were called tō shō-shaku 唐小尺 and tō dai-shaku 唐大尺, meaning ‘Tang small shaku’ and
‘Tang large shaku’ respectively. The tō dai-shaku soon turned into kane-jaku (曲尺), which became the prevailing
length measure. The measures used were shaku, sun, bu, rin (尺寸分厘), where each measure is a tenth of the
previous. In 1891 (Meiji 24), kane-jaku (曲尺) was made the official length measure, defined as as one third of a
meter. It continued to be so until 1955 (Shōwa 33). (DAIJIRIN, shaku: p. 1111).
6
A kingdom from 18 BCE to 660 BCE; J: Kudara. (百済).
20
Chapter 1 – Introduction
shakuhachi was used at the court, as an instrument in the court music ensemble for around
150 years, but even after that it seems to having been played – typically – by male members
of the court. In medieval times it may also have been used by mendicant monks, but this can
not be substantiated until the early sixteenth century. It was employed in music forms
preceding the Nō theatre, but it was not included in the ensemble of this stage art. In 1512
the shakuhachi is mentioned in a treatise on court music, some 700 years after it was
abolished from the court music ensemble. In this treatise, the author claims that the
shakuhachi should not be regarded as a popular music instrument, but rather as a court
music instrument. The shakuhachi is, however, most widely known as an instrument used
by a certain group of Zen monks (discussed at depth in Chapters 4–7), who were officially
acknowledged as such in the late seventeenth century. The present study examines the
tradition surrounding these monks – the so-called komusō – how they created a (fictive)
origin in order to invent a tradition (cf. Chapter 4), and also how the tradition of the
shakuhachi has been re-created in twentieth-century writings on the shakuhachi. I believe
that the twentieth-century writings have established a ‘tradition’ that runs parallel to the
tradition created by the komusō (cf. Chapters 5–7), in which a connection is forged between
the shakuhachi and older kinds of monks. I regard this as a possible attempt to invent an
indigenous tradition (cf. Chapter 7).
The repertoire we know today was created by the komusō, and it is through their
activities that the repertoire has survived. This music, which developed during the Edo
period (1603–1867), is in several ways the raison d’être for the present research, as was
also the case in my previous research.
My Master’s thesis at Tokyo Geijutsu Daigaku (Tokyo University of the Arts) in 1997
dealt with the problems in defining and classifying ornamental techniques used in the
ensemble music performed as chamber music in the Edo-period Japan. Within the practice
of shakuhachi playing this genre is referred to as gaikyoku or ‘outer’ pieces, as contrasted to
honkyoku, the ‘fundamental’ pieces with roots in the activities among the komusō monks,
who belonged to the Fuke sect, a certain Rinzai Zen Buddhist sect.7 At the time when I was
writing my Master’s thesis, I was preoccupied with the vast array of ornamental techniques
employed in actual performances, and also very surprised by the lack of coherence in
nomenclature as well as the execution of the named techniques.
I undertook a survey of ornamental techniques used in the ‘outer’ repertoire, and
conducted a study of their function as well as prescriptive elements in regard to when and
how the ornaments are supposed to be employed. I found that within the genre of
pre-modern ensemble playing, the Edo-period chamber music jiuta-sōkyoku,8 the notation
itself gives only indirect instructions or directions. I asserted that what a performer is doing
7
Even though the komusō, i.e., the monks themselves, received official recognition in 1677 the sect was never
officially established; the name of the sect was introduced by the monks, relating to a Chan Buddhist monk in the
Tang dynasty China: Fuke (C. Puhua). See further Chapter 4.
8
The thesis was limited to jiuta, a genre of songs with the shamisen as the main accompaniment. These pieces are
often performed in ensembles with koto, and sometimes also either with the bowed instrument kokyū or shakuhachi.
The combined term jiuta-sōkyoku was coined by the Japanese musicologist Hirano Kenji, denoting music for
shamisen (jiuta), and koto (sōkyoku) The musicians who brought the koto, originally a court music instrument, to the
profane music scene were blind monks playing the lute biwa, often referred to as mōsō biwa players. These monks
were also instrumental in introducing shamisen from Okinawa to Japan in the latter half of the sixteenth century.
The term gaikyoku is only used within the shakuhachi tradition to denote the ‘outer’ repertoire, i.e., profane music.
21
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
9
Gunnar Linder, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi no gaikyoku ni kansuru kenkyū, 1997, 66.
10
See Section 1.6 for an explanation of this term.
11
Tomimori Kyozan, Myōan shakuhachi tsūkai, 1980, 18. (明暗教会). Myōan Kyōkai was established after the ban
on begging for Buddhist monks had been lifted in 1881, following a ten-year hiatus. Begging was once more
allowed as a result of a request to this effect. The request was made by a number of monks, who wanted to fund the
22
Chapter 1 – Introduction
was the end of the Edo-period feudal system, and the beginning of the Modern Period.
During the Edo period Japan had only been trading with the Dutch, who had been secluded
to an island outside of Nagasaki, and with the Chinese and Koreans. In the Meiji period
Japan opened up further to the rest of the world, and incorporated in a vast fashion Western
ideas and ideals into the new modern society.
The Myōan Kyōkai became the gathering point for practitioners who were only
concerned with playing the fundamental repertoire, honkyoku, as part of their religious
activities. The practitioners would be dressed in typical komusō attire, as shown in Plate 2:
kimono, a tengai basket hat that covers the whole face, a begging box, and a Buddhist
vestment – kesa. They are commonly referred to as belonging to the Myōan-ryū, a lineage
consisting of several sub-lineages that developed after the establishment of the Myōan
Kyōkai.
Most of the monks who had been centred around the main temples in Edo, however,
belonged to the oldest of the still existing lineages, the Kinko-ryū, which was established in
the late eighteenth or early nineteenth century. In Edo, as in Kyoto, many monks of the
Fuke sect had been involved in both playing profane music, and teaching shakuhachi to
ordinary people, activities that were prohibited for the monks by law. However, because of
these unlawful activities, the players who belonged to Kinko-ryū could more easily adapt
themselves to the new society, with the support they had from their organisation, which was
already established in that society.
In the Meiji period, new styles of playing were also established, mainly concerned with
ensemble playing, but also creating new music for the shakuhachi, for example the
Tozan-ryū, Ueda-ryū, and Chikuhō-ryū. The Myōan players, the Kinko players, and the
newly born styles all claim some connection to older ways of playing. What, then, makes
one lineage closer to the origin, what is the ‘real thing’ in shakuhachi playing, and are all
the different styles really of the same origin?
These two themes became the starting point for my present research: the historical
authenticity of a tradition, and the elements of its transmission.
rebuilding of the main hall of the Tōfuku-ji in Kyoto, a temple of Rinzai Zen Buddhism, which had been destroyed
in a fire. One of the main temples of the Fuke sect was Myōan-ji, also located in Kyoto. After the abolishment of the
Fuke sect, some artefacts from Myōan-ji were handed over to the head priest of Zenkei-in, a sub-temple within the
compounds of Tōfuku-ji.
23
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
1.2 Disposition
The study is concerned with two core issues, each dealing with one of the two central
questions above. Chapter 1, Sections 1.3 to 1.5 contain a discussion of the theoretical
foundation for the present study. Section 1.6 contains a description of an analytical model
that I employ in this study, and a discussion of the methodology used in the analyses.
Before entering the actual analyses, I introduce in Chapter 2 the main source material,
both primary and secondary sources. The succeeding Chapter 3 is an introduction to the
shakuhachi as an instrument, and to its older history in Japan. The shakuhachi was imported
from the mainland (probably both China and the Korean kingdoms) at the latest in the first
half of the eighth century. At this time it was used as a musical instrument within the court
music. This usage formally ended in the middle of the ninth century, but the shakuhachi was
still used by people at the court possibly as late as the early sixteenth century.
The shakuhachi became a religious implement during the Edo period (1603–1867), and
Chapter 4 contains a discussion of the invention of a tradition in the Edo period, by a certain
group of Rinzai Zen Buddhist monks called komusō. In this chapter I discuss the position
the shakuhachi occupied in the contemporary Edo-period society, and I propose a possible
re-interpretation of how these komusō became related to other monks that appear in the
literature from the fourteenth to the sixteenth centuries.
In Chapters 5 and 6 I discuss how a notion of tradition is re-created in twentieth-century
studies. By alluding to similarities between the Edo-period komusō monks and earlier
appearances of monks, referred to as boro-boro and komosō, most of the twentieth-century
studies that I have investigated indicate an older indigenous tradition, which traces back to
the fourteenth century. In these two chapters I analyse some of the primary material that is
often quoted in secondary literature, in Chapter 5 sources relating to the boro-boro, and in
Chapter 6 those relating to the komosō. I show how a thorough and critical study of these
sources may indicate a lack of connection between these other types of monks, who are
depicted in the twentieth-century studies as points in a linear development. Chapter 4 deals
with the Edo period, and is therefore chronologically later than the issues discussed in
Chapters 5 and 6. Chapter 7 contains a concluding discussion of the findings in Chapters 4
to 6.
Chapter 8 contains an analysis of writings that relate to prescriptive elements of
performance techniques and aesthetics, the notation, and the resulting sonorous elements. I
discuss here structural and aesthetic aspects of the music, in terms of fixed forms (kata).
The notion of kata is discussed on the basis of secondary sources, as well as primary
sources such as the ‘un-notated instructions’ that are an integral part of the music and its
transmission. The chapter contains an analysis of the act of transmission, the processes
leading to a transmission of prescriptive elements and the experience of the receiver – the
Poietic and Esthesic Levels mentioned in Section 1.1 above, and further discussed and
explained in Section 1.6 below – including a discussion of the ontological status of the
pieces that are transmitted. The Poietic Level requires a discussion of intentionality in music.
I have limited the discussion to the intentionality of the performer/transmitter in a
Transmission-type of Enactment, upon which I elaborate in Section 1.4.2 below.
24
Chapter 1 – Introduction
[B]y default rather than merit, anonymity became an earmark of folklore. Indigenous
prose or poetry became part of folklore only after the memory of its creator had been
erased. Then, the seal of anonymity sanctioned tradition as genuine. It legitimized songs
and tales as integral parts of the cultural heritage of society.12
The view of traditional art as an unchanging, genuine form of art goes back to
eighteenth-century Europe, when the notion of creation changed, and creation as such
became the field of activity for artists.13 Very generally speaking, a popular notion of
‘traditional performing arts’ (dentō geinō)14 in Japan would be an old, unchanging art form,
probably with its roots in pre-Meiji-period Japan. On the other hand, when it comes to
music, I have encountered people who, when confronted with the concept of ‘traditional
music’ (dentō ongaku), first of all come to think of the children’s songs that have been
taught in the mandatory school education since the Meiji period. These songs were
composed based on Western music theory, and used to introduce Western music as the main
12
Dan Ben-Amos, “The Idea of Folklore: An Essay,” 1983, 2. Emphasis added.
13
See Section 1.3.3.2 below.
14
The word geinō is translated as “(public) entertainment, performing arts” and I prefer the translation ‘performing
arts’ to ‘entertainment.’ (伝統芸能).
25
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
… if they are transmitted orally rather than in writing; if they are a matter of hearsay and
not of established facts; if there is no evidence for their factual assertions and no
ratiocination associated with their normative ones; and if their authors or originators are
anonymous rather than individually identifiable by name.16
An internet Google search with the web browser Safari, using the characters 日本の伝統芸能
(nihon no dentō geinō: Japanese traditional performing arts), returns 1.51 million Japanese
language pages, where the top pages consist of NHK, Wikipedia, Yahoo, and Japan Arts
Council. Leaving out the word ‘Japanese’ (nihon no) returns some 3.48 million Japanese
language pages, with the addition of an NPO, the ATAP or Association for Traditional
Performing Arts of Japan, among the top hits.17 These pages give information about such
well-known stage arts as Nō, Kabuki, and Bunraku, but also relates to broadcasts of hōgaku,
‘national music,’ by the nationwide non-commercial broadcasting corporation NHK, Japan
Broadcasting Corporation.18 Some pages also relate to local folk music activities, or the
promotion of such activities, and again, some pages explain the word dentō geinō as
denoting ‘Japanese culture’ prior to the Meiji Restoration in 1868.
NHK, the de facto official media channel, uses the phrase nihon no dentō geinō, whereas
the use of the word dentō in other official circumstances is scarcer. The National
Association for Performing Arts started up under the name of the National Theatre of Japan
in 1966 in accordance with the National Theatre Law. The name was changed in 1990 to
Japan Arts Council,19 and again reorganised as an independent administrative institution in
2003 under the same name.20 Within the ambitus of their homepage there is a Traditional
15
In the enactment of the first law on a new school system (gakusei), one reads, “There will be a lack [of teachers]
for a foreseeable future.” (当分之を欠く).
The “Gakusei” (学制) of August 3, 1872: Accessed from the homepage of the Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports,
Science and Techonology at http://www.mext.go.jp/b_menu/hakusho/html/hpbz198102/hpbz198102_2_012.html on
February 10, 2009.
Kikkawa Eishi holds that: “The traditional Japanese music did not hide away completely from the beginning of the
Meiji period, but due to the Western music, its shadow became gradually thinner, and gradually it was pushed aside
into the backstreets [of society]. This is strongly connected with the fact that the only national music school, Tokyo
Music School, almost completely discarded traditional music, and became a school for Western music.” (明治時代に
なっても、決して日本の伝統音楽が影をひそめたわけではないが、洋楽のために次第に影が薄くなり、次第に裏道に追いやられて
行った。そのことは、唯一の官立の音楽学校である東京音楽学校が、ほとんど伝統音楽を切り捨てて、西洋音楽学校になったこと
と重大な関係がある。). Kikkawa Eishi, Nihon ongaku no rekishi (1965), 1990, 354.
16
Edward Shils, Tradition, 1981, 17.
17
Changing the language setting to ‘All languages’ actually decreased the return with a fraction: 1.46 and 3.32
million respectively. With the web browser Firefox the return for both language settings was almost the same:
“Japanese language” gave 1.5 and 3.5 million returned pages, and ‘All languages’ gave 1.46 and 3.41 million pages
for the respective search words. I did not change any other parameters.
18
NHK is the abbreviation of Nippon Hōsō Kyōkai (日本放送協会), a publicly owned corporation funded by license
fees for the reception of televised broadcasts, a mandatory fee for anyone who owns a TV-set in Japan.
19
A literal translation would be: Association for the Promotion of Japanese Art and Culture. (日本芸術文化振興会).
20
This reorganisation was part of the privatization of national agencies during the Koizumi administration. (独立行政法人).
26
Chapter 1 – Introduction
Performing Arts Database, dentō geinō dētabēsu, but apart from this appearance, the word
dentō is not used. Also in the official Japan Arts Council Law that regulates the activities of
the council, the word dentō is not used. Instead, the phrasing is “Japanese Performing
Arts.”21
27
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
words used for ‘music.’ It does, however, seem likely that the compound word yinyue – or
its constituents – did not have the same field of denotation as the modern English word
‘music’ has. The quote above – “Yinyue originates in the distant past” – could well describe
a notion of ‘pleasant sounds’ that are founded on the genesis of all things, or even some
eternal heavenly sounds that bring joy and amusement.
The earliest known appearance of the compound 音楽 for ‘music’ in Japan is from the
beginning of the eighth century,30 and in the Shoku-Nihongi, completed in 791, there is a
note referring to the year 752:
On the twenty-second day of the fourth month in the fourth year of the Tenpyō-shōhō
Era: “Upon the completion of the great statue of Vairocana, the consecration began. …
The gagaku musicians, and [people from] many of the temples, performed a variety of
music [音楽], and everybody gathered.”31
In Shaseki-shū, written by the Buddhist monk Mujū in 1283, there is also a remark about
music. In Chapter four, section six of the Yonezawa-bon of Shaseki-shū, one reads that
“music [音楽] could be heard from the sky.”32 The term ongaku, denoting ‘music,’ is thus an
old term also in Japan, but, as mentioned above, it has not had a central position – and it has
not been used as a generic concept – in the Japanese vocabulary before the Meiji period.
The Japanese musicologist Hirano Kenji argues that the compound, and the character 楽,
used as an abbreviation, were “loan words, imported from Chinese, and their primary use
was, as one can expect, probably to denote foreign music,”33 as the quote above from the
Shoku-Nihongi also indicates. The compound word was also used to denote sound
phenomenons that were “lacking in concreteness,” 34 as indicated by the quote from
Shaseki-shū above.
In Heian period texts, the compound 音楽 and its constituent 楽 (or 樂) have been used
with other readings: utamai (literally ‘song and dance’), mono no ne (literally ‘sound of
things’), and asobi (literally ‘play’).35
The term asobi appears in literature from the Heian period Japan (794–1185). 36 In
classical Japanese it is a verb with a wide array of denotations, ranging from playing (both
what children do and games for adults such as shōgi or go), going on an outing, a boat ride,
30
The term appears in the Taihō Legal Codes (大宝律令 Taihō-ritsuryō), a centralized code of administrative laws
enacted in 701. (HHJ, ongaku: p. 176. DAIJIRIN, taihō ritsuryō: p. 1453.)
31
KOKUGO, Vol. 4, ongaku: p. 153. Vairocana is normally written 毘盧遮那仏 (birushanabutsu) but the great
Buddha statue at Nara Tōdai-ji is referred to as 東大寺盧舎那仏像 (tōdaiji rushana butsuzō). Vairocana is the astral
body of the historical Gautama Buddha, and in Japan is also regarded as the embodiment of the Buddhist notion of
emptiness. 乙酉 (kinonotori, itsuyū) is the 22nd day of the month. (天平勝宝四年四月乙酉「盧舎那大仏像成、始開眼。〈略〉
雅楽寮及諸寺種々音楽並咸来集。).
32
KOKUGO, Vol. 4, ongaku: p. 153. (空の中に音楽聞え). Shaseki-shū (沙石集) is further discussed in Chapter 5,
Section 5.3. The Yonezawa-bon ( 米沢本 ) is supposedly close to the original text by Mujū Ichien ( 無住一円 ,
1226–1312).
33
Hirano, “Nihon ni oite ongaku to wa nani ka,” 1988, 19. (中国語を輸入した外来語であり、その本来の用法は、やはり外
来音楽を対象としたものであったはずである。)
34
Ibid. (具体性を持たない).
35
Kikkawa, Nihon ongaku no biteki kenkyū, 1984, 18–23.
36
KOGO, asobi: p. 30.
28
Chapter 1 – Introduction
or hunting. It also denotes holding a feast or party, the playing of kagura music,37 but also,
generically, playing music and singing songs. The word asobi, thus, denotes activities,
things one can do for fun, enjoyment, pleasure, or the like: its meaning is not limited to, but
includes the playing of music. However, Motoori Norinaga, a famous eighteenth-century
scholar on National Studies (kokugaku),38 argued that the character 楽 by itself was read as
asobi in ancient times, but that the reading utamai was also possible. The latter reading had
been established in the early eighth-century Nihon shoki (The Chronicles of Japan),
referring to music that was imported from the three kingdoms on the Korean peninsula:
Paekche, Silla, and Goguryeo. Eventually, utamai came to denote foreign music and
domestic music that was influenced by imported music, and asobi was used to denote music
with an indigenous origin. The term asobi, used to denote ‘music’ rather than other forms of
entertainment, most likely did not refer to what we, today, mean with the word ‘music’: it
was a fusion of dance, music, and words (song or recitation).39
Several terms are used in various genres of music that have an origin before the Meiji
period. The word gaku (楽) is normally understood as the court music, gagaku (雅楽). Other
words have been used, and appear in program notes, and in writings about Japanese music.
For example: ongyoku (音曲), song accompanied by shamisen or koto in vaudeville theatres;
nō-bayashi (能囃子), the ensemble in the Nō theatre, and its music; yōkyoku (謡曲), the text of
a Nō play; shira-byōshi (白拍子), a form of song and dance performances in the Heian and
Kamakura periods; sōkyoku (箏曲), koto music normally with song; jiuta (地歌), songs
accompanied by shamisen; nagauta (長唄), one of the music ensembles used in the Kabuki
theatre, and its music; and so on. In the modern usage of language, these terms denote music
in a wide sense when we attempt to explain them, e.g., “nagauta is a music form that is used
in Kabuki,” but more accurately, they are terms that relate to, and identify, specific genres.
Even if the word ongaku seems to have appeared more often in Edo period texts, the
notion of ‘music’ as a generic concept was not fully introduced until the Meiji period. The
musicologist Hirano Kenji refers to the book Kabuongaku no ryakureki (An Abbreviated
History of Song, Dance, and Music) of 1888, and states that this book incorporates Japanese
classical music in the term ongaku. However, according to Hirano, “after that, centred
around people concerned with Western music, we can say that the tendency to use the word
‘music’ [ongaku] limited to [denote] only Western music [yōgaku] grew stronger.40 As a
contrast to Western music (yōgaku) the term hōgaku (national music) became more popular.
This term has a wide definition, as a contrasting term to yōgaku. It is also used in a more
narrow definition, denoting music that developed in the Early Modern Period, e.g., music
for koto, shamisen, and shakuhachi. In this narrow definition, music of the Ancient and
Medieval Periods, e.g., gagaku, sutra chanting (shōmyō), and Nō music, is not included.
Neither does the narrow definition include folk music or other kinds of local and regional
music.41
37
The word kagura (神楽) literally means ‘god music,’ and it is a type of music that probably existed in Japan before
the music from Tang dynasty China and the Korean Kingdoms entered in the seventh to the eighth centuries. There
are ‘local kagura’ called sato-kagura (里神楽), and ‘noble kagura’ called mi-kagura (御神楽).
38
See also Section 7.2.2.3.
39
NOD, ongaku, ‘gaku’ no kun to imi (Music: The reading of ‘gaku’ [music] and its meaning): p. 9–10 (Kuniyasu
Yō). See also Section 3.2.1 for a short discussion of how and when the shakuhachi was imported to Japan.
40
NOD, ongaku, nihon de no ‘ongaku’ no yōrei (Music: Examples of ‘music’ in Japan): p. 10 (Hirano Kenji).
41
DAIJIRIN, hōgaku: p. 2202. See also Section 1.3.3.4.
29
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Thus, the present study is concerned with hōgaku in the above narrow definition,
especially the music of the shakuhachi and its possible connections to older music forms.
For the sake of simplicity, in the present study I use the words ‘music’ and ongaku in this
narrowly defined meaning when talking about shakuhachi music.
The reception and handing down of systemized, both tangible and intangible, formations
of customs, conventional practices, styles, tendencies, thought, blood lineages, etc., from
old times. Also, the systemized formations, which have been handed down.44
I have translated the central word keitō as ‘systemized formations.’ The encyclopedic
explanation of this word is: “That which is unified according to a uniform order or rule.
Also, that connection. Thoughts, ideas, etc., that belong to the same lineage.”45
Examples of usage of the word dentō are given from four different works in the most
common encyclopedia:46 (1) the Hohei sōten,47 Infantry Drill Manual, revised in 1909, (2)
the novel Yukiguni (Snow Country, first published 1935–37) by Kawabata Yasunari, (3) the
42
Shino Arisawa, “Changes in the transmission of “traditional” music,” 2008, 16.
43
KOKUGO, Vol. 14, tsutae: p. 2.
44
KOKUGO, Vol. 14, dentō: p. 362. (古くからの、しきたり・様式・傾向・思想・血筋など、有形無形の系統をうけ伝えるこ
と。また、うけついだ系統。).
45
DAIJIRIN, keitō: p. 754.
46
These references are from KOKUGO, Vol. 14, dentō: p. 362.
47
歩兵操典
30
Chapter 1 – Introduction
Law on School Education from 1947, and (4) Shen Yue, a fifth-century Chinese person of
letters.48
The Law on School Education from 1947 received its latest revision on June 3, 2011. In
the above quoted lexica, the word tradition is used in Article 18, but in this revision it has
been moved to Article 21, paragraph 3, with a slightly different wording. The text and
placement in the latest revision has not changed since the previous one in 2007.
1947 To give guidance to a correct understanding in respect to the present state and
tradition of [one’s] native place and the nation.
2011 To give guidance to a correct understanding in respect to the present state and
history of our country and [one’s] native soil, respect tradition and culture, and
cultivate an attitude of love towards our country and [one’s] native soil, which
have bred these [traditions and culture].49
The Hohei sōten was a military command, approved by the Emperor, indicating the
training and combat standards for the foot soldiers. In the early years of the Meiji period a
translation of similar works in French and German was used, but following the
Russo-Japanese war 1904–1905, a revised version was published in 1909. The only original
text I have been able to obtain is a revised version from 1940, where the phrase “The
National Army, which is endowed with a brilliant tradition, …”50 is used. This version is
supposedly basically the same as the 1909 revised text: “The early Meiji text was nothing
more than a translation from French and German texts, but after the Russo-Japanese war, in
1909, fundamental revisions were added. After that small amendments were made, but
basically it didn’t change until the defeat in the war.”51 This supports Arisawa’s comment
about Japanese scholars who found the word dentō to be polluted with militaristic
connotations. Without access to the older text it is of course impossible to find solid support
for Arisawa’s statement that the word dentō was first used in Japan in the 1930’s, but even
if dentō was used in the 1909 Hohei sōten we can, however, conclude that the word – with
the denotation ‘tradition’ – is not so old in Japan: it has been used in modern Japanese for
somewhere approximately between seventy-five and one hundred years.
In lexica, according to the most comprehensive character dictionary, 52 the oldest
reference to the usage in China is to the so-called “Records of the Eastern Barbarians” in the
“The History of the Later Han”53, and it reads: 世世傳統. The meaning is to transmit that
48
J. Shin’yaku (沈約, 441–513), a prominent scholar and historian.
49
http://law.e-gov.go.jp/htmldata/S22/S22HO026.html, May 22, 2010 and October 21, 2011.
1947 郷土及び国家の現状と伝統について、正しい理解に導き
2011 我が国と郷土の現状と歴史について、正しい理解に導き、伝統と文化を尊重し、それらをはぐくんできた我が国と郷土を愛す
る態度を養う, which is the exact same wording as in 2007.
50
From the Summary of the Infantry Drill Manual ( 歩 兵 操 典 綱 領 第 3 赫 々 た る 伝 統 を 有 す る 国 軍 ), at
http://www.warbirds.jp/sudo/infantry/i1.htm, accessed on May 24, 2010. Also in KOKUGO, Vol. 14, dentō: p. 362.
51
YHJ, hoheisōten (歩兵操典), Fujii Haruo (藤井治夫, 1928–), May 24, 2010. 明治初期のものはフランス、ドイツのものを
翻訳したにすぎなかったが、日露戦争後の 1909 年(明治 42)根本的な改訂が加えられた。以後小改訂はあったが、基本は敗戦ま
で変わらなかった。
52
Morohashi, Vol. 1, p. 906.
53
東夷伝: The Records of the Eastern Barbarians (C. Dongyi-zhuan (also 東夷列伝); J. Tōiden) of 後漢書: The History
of the Later Han (C. Houhanshu; J. Gokan-jo). The phrase appears in Section 27: 「倭在韓東南大海中,依山島為居,凡
百餘國。自武帝滅朝鮮,使驛通於漢者三十許國,國皆稱王,世世傳統。其大倭王居邪馬臺國。樂浪郡徼,去其國萬二千里,去其西
北 界 拘 邪 韓 國 七 千 餘 里 。 其 地 大 較 在 會 稽 東 冶 之 東 , 與 朱 崖 、 儋 耳 相 近 , 故 其 法 俗 多 同 。 」 (Chinese Text Project at
http://ctext.org/hou-han-shu/dong-yi-lie-zhuan, October 30, 2010).
31
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
which has been unified (from early times gathered, under control and following precedent)
from generation to generation. In the writings of the above-mentioned Shen Yue, the quote
is from an order of amnesty given at a ceremonial investiture of the Crown Prince. The
quote reads: “Preserve the ceremonial vessels, and transmit the rules and principles from old
times. These matters are [highly] esteemed.”54
The essence of this sentence is to retain (protect, preserve) the vessels used in
ceremonies,55 and to transmit that which has been unified (from early times gathered, under
control and following precedent), and further, in the second half of the line, that it is of
grave importance to achieve this very thing. In both these cases, the character 傳, ‘to
transmit,’ is the predicate, and 統, that which should be transmitted, is the direct object of
the action of transmitting. Thus, neither of these instances expresses a notion of dentō –
‘tradition’ – as a concept. The oldest reference to the use of the character 傳 that I have
found is a reference to the Analects of Confucius.56 In the section referred to in lexica, the
chapter “Zi Zhang,” the character denotes a verb. I have consulted three translations of this
chapter in the Analects, which carry three different renditions: ‘deliver,’ ‘teach,’ and ‘impart’
respectively. The crucial part of Section 12 reads as follows: “According to the way of the
superior man in teaching, what departments are there which he considers of prime
importance and delivers? What are there which he considers of secondary importance, and
allows himself to be idle about?”57
Here 傳 is translated in terms of ‘deliver.’ Another English translation reads: “In terms of
a gentleman’s learning, what is to be taught first, what is to be taught last is similar to the
categorization of plants.”58 Here the character for ‘way,’ 道, is used in the meaning of
‘learning,’ and the ‘teaching’ is expressed with 傳, implying that ‘teaching’ was regarded as
the process of delivering or transmitting certain aspects of learning and knowledge. Again,
in another online resource, the translation of this passage reads, “what is to be imparted
first,”59 which then implies a ‘communication of knowledge,’ but in the translation into
Japanese at the same site the word oshieru (‘teach’) is used for the same character.60
There does not seem to be any indication that Confucius, or any other scholar or prolific
writer of ancient times, used the two characters 傳 and 統 as a compound denoting the
54
Morohashi, Vol. 1, p. 906. (沈約、立太子赦詔:「守器傳統、於斯爲重」). KOKUGO, Vol. 14, dentō: p. 362. As the
reference is given in Morohashi it creates the impression that the quote is from the fifth century. However, this
quote of Shen Yue seems to be from the book Wenyuan yinghua (文苑英華, J. Buneneiga) of 987 (KOKUGO, Vol.
17, buneneiga: p. 553), some 470 years after Shen Yue’s death. Wenyuan yinghua, vol. 26, no. 432:
http://guji.artx.cn/article/11281.html accessed on November 22, 2011.
55
The character 器 refers to vessels or containers. My interpretation is that it refers to the ceremonial vessels, handed
down from generations, but in a Buddhist context it may also refer to a vessel of ability, talent, or capacity. I find it
more likely, though, that Shen Yue, as a historian and probably more of a Confucian than a Buddhist, refers to the
ceremonial artefacts, rather than the more abstract notion of ability. Things and principles seem to be on his agenda,
not individual capacity.
56
The Analects (C. Lun Yu; J. Rongo); the character 傳 appears in Chapter 19: Zi Zhang, according to the Chinese
character dictionary Gudai hanyu cidian, p. 227.
57
Translation from the Chinese Text Project, http://ctext.org/analects/zi-zhang, October 30, 2010. Typing errors
corrected, and emphasis added. The full section in Chinese reads: 「子游曰: 子夏之門人小子,當洒掃、應對、進退,則可
矣。抑末也,本之則無。如之何? 子夏聞之曰: 噫!言游過矣!君子之道,孰先傳焉?孰後倦焉?譬諸草木,區以別矣。君子之道,
焉可誣也?有始有卒者,其惟聖人乎! 君子之道,孰先傳焉,孰後倦焉,譬諸草木,區以別矣。」.
58
Quoted in translation from Analects of Confucius, 1994, 366. Emphasis added.
59
Available at Cheung, ed., http://www.confucius.org/lunyu/ed1912.htm, October 22, 2011. Emphasis added.
60
Ibid.
32
Chapter 1 – Introduction
concept of ‘tradition.’ Needless to say, a notion of traditionality may have existed – and
most likely did exist – but it was not expressed in the compound word under discussion here.
Furthermore, the references in Japanese lexica do imply that the usage of the word either
changed during the first half of the twentieth century, or, more likely, that a new compound
was created and ascribed the meaning ‘tradition.’ The accepted view among scholars in
Japan is that dentō is a translated word, denoting the Western concept of ‘tradition,’ and it
seems likely that the compound word was incorporated in the vocabulary in China by way
of Japan.
***
As a translated word, the content of the definitions would be expected to be fairly similar.
The notion of unity that is prevalent in the constituent tō, unification, of the Japanese
compound word may be seen as corresponding to ‘relate to,’ ‘commonly accepted,’ or
‘continuity,’ but the unification process is not as strongly emphasized in the English word as
in the Japanese. The Japanese definition also has “systemized formations,” which implies
unification. The word keitō contains the same character tō as in dentō, and can therefore be
seen as literally meaning “lineage unification,” or the like.
In order to define something that is in unity with previous and present aspects of the art
form for the agents involved, they need a set of rules or standards by which they can judge
the level of unification with previous or preceding individual instances of music making, to
61
YHJ, kindaika (近代化), Hamashima Akira (濱嶋朗), October 9, 2010.
62
MW/OR, ‘tradition,’ accessed March 29, 2010.
33
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
make certain that these individual instances are in line with the tradition. They might also
require a set of fixed performance techniques, with which the individual musician is able to
recreate new instances of the tradition in the same way as before.
The shakuhachi music of today, in Japan and outside its borders, is almost entirely based
on what is referred to as ‘traditional’ repertoires and performance techniques, regardless of
whether the music performed is ‘traditional’ or ‘modern.’ It is conceivable that an
individual musician is using old traditional techniques to perform new, modern music.63 The
notions of ‘traditional repertoires’ and ‘traditional music’ are not always used consistently,
and they are not necessarily based on a definition of when the ‘traditional’ music appeared
or was created. Even ‘modern’ musicians, as contrasted to their ‘traditional’ counterparts,
often insist on belonging to some ‘traditional’ group or lineage within the concept of a more
general shakuhachi tradition. As one example of this, we can look at the largest lineage of
shakuhachi in Japan today, in terms of the number of practitioners: the Tozan-ryū. This
lineage was established in 1896 by Nakao Tozan.64 It comprises some 6,000 licensed
teachers. 65 Nakao Tozan composed a new repertoire of solo and duo pieces for the
shakuhachi, referred to as tozan-ryū honkyoku, but these pieces do not have any connection
to the music of the Edo period komusō. Tozan-ryū performers did, and still do, perform in
the ‘traditional’ Edo period chamber music.66 Within the Tozan-ryū, the new compositions
by Nakao Tozan are referred to as ‘art music,’67 in contrast to the usage of shakuhachi for
begging up to the end of the Edo period. At the same time, shakuhachi is perceived as a
traditional art. In a bulletin on the official homepage of Tozan-ryū Gakkai68 announcing that
Yamamoto Hōzan 69 had been designated a Living National Treasure, 70 one reads that
“[Yamamoto Hōzan] has vastly contributed to the fact that shakuhachi music, which is [part
of the] Japanese traditional arts, has become widely known throughout the world.” In the
same bulletin it also says that “[t]he fact that [Yamamoto Hōzan] … has been designated
Living National Treasure is a proof of that Tozan-ryū shakuhachi music has been
acknowledged as an important traditional art that should be preserved as ethnic music [of
Japan].”71
63
In reality, this is often the case. However, changes in performance techniques and in the making of instruments,
etc., are also common, in order to better accommodate ‘modern’ influences, especially from Western classical and
popular music.
64
Nakao Tozan (中尾都山, 1876–1956).
65
Tozan-ryū has divided in various sub-groups, and the 6,000 licensed teachers are those in the Tozan-ryū Gakkai
Foundation ((財) 都山流楽会, established in 1965), according to the official homepage of this Tozan-ryū lineage,
available at http://tozanryu.com/ (accessed April 9, 2010).
66
This genre is referred to as sankyoku ensembles of jiuta-sōkyoku. See also Section 8.1.2.
67
芸術音楽.
68
都山流楽会.
69
Yamamoto Hōzan (山本邦山, 1937–).
70
The term in Japanese is jūyō mukei bunka-zai hojisha, or more commonly, ningen-kokuhō. The new law for
protection of important cultural properties, “Bunka-zai hogo-hō” (文化財保護法), was implemented in 1950. This law
included a new item: important intangible cultural properties, jūyō mukei bunka-zai (重要無形文化財). The law of
1950 was a fusion of the 1929 Law of preservation of national treasures (国宝保存法), and the 1933 Law of
preservation of important artworks (重要美術品等ノ保存ニ関スル法律). It also absorbed the Law of preservation of
historical sites, places with scenic beauty, and natural monuments from 1919 (史蹟(しせき)名勝天然記念物保存法). The
law also came to intregrate two new concepts: the above-mentioned “Important intangible cultural properties,” and
“Buried cultural properties” (埋蔵文化財). YHJ, bunka-zai hogohō (文化財保護法), by Enomoto Yukio (榎本由喜雄),
May 14, 2010. (重要無形文化財保持者・人間国宝).
71
http://www.tozanryu.com/saikin/news.html, accessed April 15, 2010. Emphasis added. (日本伝統芸能である
34
Chapter 1 – Introduction
In the following sections I will explore some notions about ‘tradition’ and ‘traditional’ in
related disciplines in Western thought, that are relevant for the present study.
A ritual determines what qualifications the speaking individuals must have (and who, in
the game of dialogues, questioning, and recitation, shall take what positions and phrase
what types of utterances), it decides the gestures, behaviours, circumstances, and all the
signs that must accompany the discourse. It also determines the supposed or forced
efficiency of the words, what effects they shall have on those they are directed to, and the
limits of their cogent value. The religious, legal, therapeutical, and partly also the
political discourses can hardly be differentiated from this ritualisation that simultaneously
determines both isolated properties and suitable roles for the speaking subjects.75
尺八楽を広く世界に知らしめることに大きく貢献されました/遂に都山流人としては初めての人間国宝になられたことは、都山流
尺八楽が民族音楽として保存すべき重要な伝統芸能であると認知されたことの証左であり).
72
Foucault, Diskursens ordning (L'ordre du discours) (The Order of Discourse), Mats Rosengren, transl., 1993, 7.
(Foucault, L’ordre du discours (1970), 1971, 11).
73
Foucault, Diskursens ordning (L'ordre du discours) (The Order of Discourse), Mats Rosengren, transl., 1993, 26.
(Here the word ‘order’ should be read in the meaning of a society or similar grouping, not in the sense of “the order
of things.”) (Foucault, L’ordre du discours (1970), 1971, 39).
74
In the “Translator’s Note,” the translator Mats Rosengren states that Foucault is using the French word discours
with two meanings, apart from the more common meanings of “speech, lectures, and talking,” also to function as “a
name of all written or uttered phrases” as well as “a name of that whole practice which generates a certain type of
utterances” (p. 57).
75
Foucault, Diskursens ordning (L'ordre du discours) (The Order of Discourse), Mats Rosengren, transl., 1993, 28.
(Foucault, L’ordre du discours (1970), 1971, 41).
35
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Foucault does not make any differentiation between ‘modern’ and ‘traditional’ societies
concerning the application of his order of discourse. A ‘traditional’ society reacts in the
same way as a ‘modern’ society, even if the rules and rituals may differ. Obeying the rules
of ‘tradition’ counters the very notion of creation of something new, and there arises a
dichotomy between traditional values and newly created values, between ‘traditional’ and
‘modern’ in the more generic meaning mentioned above (cf. also 1.3.3.2 below).
The concept ‘tradition’ is, however, not very old in Western thought. The sociologist
Joseph A. Soares reformulates the concept of tradition as it appears in social theory as one
way of understanding “the logic of social action, group identity, and collective memory,”76
but the use of the term ‘tradition’ in Western academic disciplines has not been much
debated; rather it has been taken for too obvious, which has led to a rather ambiguous or
vague concept. Soares gives his own sociological definition of ‘tradition,’ to which I refer at
the end of the next section (1.3.3.1) as an example of tradition as a social construction.
In the article “The Meanings of Tradition,” the folklorist, ethnologist, and historian
Simon Bronner indicates that within the field of folklore studies there is an intimate
relationship to the concept of ‘tradition.’ He gives some examples from a number of major
introductory textbooks on folklore, e.g., “folklore denotes ‘expressive forms, processes, and
behaviors … that we judge to be traditional’…”77 Thereby our subjective experiences of
expressive forms become the centre of study.
Conceptually, folklore and socio-historical studies are the disciplines of closest interest
for the present investigation, but a philosophical view is also of significance. In the
following three sections I will introduce discussions on the conceptual background to the
notion of ‘tradition’: (1) from a socio-historical perspective, with respect to the social
context and the historical authenticity of tradition; (2) from a philosophical perspective,
with respect to the dichotomy between (static) tradition and (dynamic) creativity; finally, (3)
from a folkloristic perspective, with respect to the oral elements and transmission.
76
Joseph A. Soares, “A Reformation of the Concept of Tradition,” 1997, 6.
77
Simon J. Bronner, “The Meaning of Tradition: An Introduction,” 2000, 99. (Quote from Robert Georges and
Michael Owen Jones, Folkloristics, 1995). Emphasis by Bronner.
78
Edward Shils, Tradition, 1981, 13.
79
Ibid., 262.
36
Chapter 1 – Introduction
traditions; they can become traditions.”80 Shils views any coherent system of rules and
beliefs as a pattern, “which guides the reenactment.”81 Anything that has a past can, thus, be
a tradition as long as somebody adhers to it, acknowledges it, and calls it a tradition. For
Shils, modernism and tradition are not contrasting or conflicting concepts. A change can
occur, and the relation to past events is arbitrary: the adherents to the tradition are not in a
position (maybe) to tell whether it is ‘real’ or not, but for Shils that does not matter.
Whatever we do builds on a past – a tradition – according to Shils. Obviously, whatever we
do, we do it based on some rules, learned behaviour, or other framework. Nobody acts
completely out of new decisions made every second, tradition-less. I find that this weakens
Shils’s notion of tradition: in principle, anything is presently or potentially a tradition. There
is, however, a time factor involved in Shils’s notion. A belief or a practice that does not gain
followers or only survives for a short time is not a tradition: “It has to last over at least three
generations—however long or short these are—to be a tradition.”82
The historian Eric Hobsbawm introduces another challenging usage of the word
‘tradition’ in his introduction to the book The Invention of Tradition. It contains a thorough
and frequently quoted discussion of the processes referred to as the ‘invention of traditions.’
Hobsbawm holds that the invention of tradition is “essentially a process of formalization
and ritualization, characterized by reference to the past, if only by imposing repetition,”83
including, but not limited to, revival movements of past, no longer living traditions.
Traditions can, thus, be newly invented or re-activated replicas of long-gone traditions, but
neither of these instances of tradition has a living past; they cannot develop a past and not
even preserve one, according to Hobsbawm. He contrasts this with “the strength and
adaptability of genuine traditions …,” and explains that “[w]here the old ways are alive,
traditions need be neither revived nor invented.”84 He refrains, however, from making any
definition of genuine traditions, or any clear distinction from the invented ones, but treats
them in one respect as very similar: “The object and characteristic of ‘traditions’, including
invented ones, is invariance. The past, real or invented, to which they refer imposes fixed
(normally formalized) practices, such as repetition.”85 This statement raises two important
questions. Firstly, if the invented traditions cannot preserve a past, how can then one quality
of invented traditions be invariance? This seems contradictory, but his notion of invented
traditions in this respect is that an invented tradition builds an idea of a past, which is
qualitatively different from a real past, and keeps this idea of a past intact: “[invented
traditions] normally attempt to establish continuity with a suitable historic past.”86 As I
understand Hobsbawm, he means that an invented tradition does not thereby preserve a past,
but rather a notion of a past, values and norms of behaviour – in a wide sense of the word –
that are inculcated by repetition. The second question is how ‘real’ traditions can have the
quality of invariance if they at the same time have “strength and adaptability?” Hobsbawm’s
aim is not the ‘real traditions’ but the ‘invented ones,’ and he does not expound any further
80
Ibid., 31.
81
Ibid.
82
Ibid., 15.
83
Eric Hobsbawm, “Introduction: Inventing Traditions,” 1983, 4.
84
Ibid., 8.
85
Ibid., 2.
86
Ibid., 1.
37
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
on the quality or mechanism of real traditions, except for categorizing them as alive, strong,
and adaptible, but at the same time unchanging.
The aim of Hobsbawm’s text is not to explicate the qualities or character of real and live
traditions, but rather to disclose the mechanism of invented traditions. For Hobsbawm, the
revival of traditions is a result of the liberal ideologies of social change in the nineteenth
century that “systematically failed to provide for the social and authority ties taken for
granted in earlier societies,” which in turn created a gap between the older traditions and the
modern society. Hobsbawm distinguishes three types of invented traditions that have
developed since the time of the industrial revolution.
[The invented traditions] seem to belong to three overlapping types: a) those establishing
or symbolizing social cohesion or the membership of groups, real or artificial
communities, b) those establishing or legitimizing institutions, status or relations of
authority, and c) those whose main purpose was socialization, inculcation of beliefs,
value systems and conventions of behaviour.87
He regards b) and c) as possible derivates of a), but holds that all three types developed in
different parts of society on their own accord. Hobsbawm also gives an account of the
structure of invented traditions, and their mechanism, in contrast to other forms of more or
less ritualized practices. He makes a qualitative distinction between the ‘invented traditions’
on the one hand, and ‘custom’ and ‘convention’ – or ‘routine’ – on the other.
For Hobsbawm, ‘custom’ does not preclude innovation and change, as long as the change
appears compatible with precedent. What he refers to as ‘custom’ is what a practitioner of
some profession does, and ‘tradition’ refers to “the ritualized practices surrounding their
substantial action.”88
Social practices that need to be carried out repeatedly tend to develop ‘convention’ for
the sake of convenience. These conventions, or routines, may be formalized for the purpose
of carrying the necessary practices to new practitioners: a form of transmission of
structures; a pre-determined way of performing an operation. Such formalized routines do
not, however, hold any symbolic or ritual functions in themselves. The conventional
routines often function at their best when they become habitual, automatic procedures,
which in turn require invariance. The routines may in such cases be confused with invented
traditions, but their function and justification is, in Hobsbawm’s words, “technical rather
than ideological.”89 Routines are used pragmatically, but when the conventions or objects
lose their practical use, they can be adopted and used symbolically. Hobsbawm exemplifies
this with the wigs of lawyers, which changed in significance when the everyday use of wigs
was no longer in vogue. To summarize Hobsbawm’s outline of ‘tradition,’ ‘custom,’ and
‘routine’:
87
Ibid., 9.
88
Ibid., 3.
89
Ibid., 3.
38
Chapter 1 – Introduction
90
I do not intend any political connotations here, even if there may be many instances where a political agenda is at
work in the invention of tradition. With ‘reactionary’ I assume the following meaning: ‘relating to, marked by, or
favoring resistance or opposition to a force, influence, or movement; especially, tendency toward a former and
usually outmoded political or social order or policy,’ rather than the pejorative use of the word that was common in
political rethoric and propaganda during the twentieth century. (Based on the definition of ‘reactionary’ and
‘reaction’ in MW/OR).
91
For example the Ueda-ryū was established in 1917, breaking off from the Tozan-ryū, which in turn was
established in 1896. Shils would probably not regard the Tozan-ryū as a tradition in 1917, but it was an established
organization at the time. The founder of Ueda-ryū made his own new compositions and created his own school or
lineage, mixing old pieces with new music.
92
Soares, “A Reformation of the Concept of Tradition,” 1997, 14.
93
Ibid., 16. Emphasis added.
94
Peter Berger and Thomas Luckmann, The Social Construction of Reality, 1981, 27.
39
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
This view yields a closed system that accomodates for Soares definition above, of
tradition as a socially constructed entity. Edward Shils presents a similar view of tradition:
he states that tradition is the traditum, that which has been handed down (or is being handed
down). A traditum is something that once was created, performed, and believed in the past,
but it doesn’t have to have a solid base: “To be a traditum does not mean that the persons to
whom it is made present and who accept it, do so on the grounds of its existence in the past.
Tradita can become objects of fervent attachment to the quality of pastness which is seen in
them,”95 and for some people it may even be the only reasonable thing to believe in. I do not
see that the notion of a closed system of belief should be problematic in itself, but the
relation to the past is central to any etic discussion on whatever tradition it may be. The
anthropologist Jocelyn Linnekin asserts that any tradition that is defined by its members is a
constructed tradition: “[T]he selection of what constitutes tradition is always made in the
present; the content of the past is modified and redefined according to a modern
significance. In nationalist movements, tradition becomes a rallying cry and a political
symbol. Cultural revivalists search for an authentic heritage as the basis for ethnic
distinctiveness; as they rediscover a culture they also create it.”96
The notion of closed systems in which a tradition is transmitted, as put forward in the
above sociological studies, is similar to some trends in folklore studies, where ‘tradition’
has been, and to some extent still is, at the center of interest. Before moving on to the
research within folklore, I will discuss the concept of ‘creativity’ as opposed to ‘tradition’
in the Western world.
95
Shils, Tradition, 1981, 13.
96
Jocelyn Linnekin, “Defining Tradition: Variations on the Hawaiian Identity,” 1983, 241.
97
Paul Oskar Kristeller, “‘Creativity’ and ‘Tradition’,” 1983, 105.
98
James I. Porter, “Is Art Modern? Kristeller’s ‘Modern System of the Arts’ Reconsidered,” 2009, 1–2. Porter is
critical of Kristeller’s theory, stating that there are other views available that “offer dramatically different pictures of
the same ground that Kristeller covers in his essay” (p. 2). I will not dwell on Porter’s critique here; it is beyond the
scope of this thesis, and the Kristeller dogma is to my knowledge still the generally adopted view in philosophy.
40
Chapter 1 – Introduction
It is true that many elements of his system were derived from previous authors, but at the
same time it should not be overlooked that he was the first to set forth a clearcut system
of the fine arts in a treatise devoted exclusively to this subject. … Batteux codified the
modern system of the fine arts almost in its final form … [starting] from the poetic
theories of Aristotle and Horace, …, and tried to extend their principles from poetry and
painting to the other arts. … He separates the fine arts which have pleasure for their end
from the mechanical arts. … In the central part of his treatise, Batteux tries to show that
the “imitation of beautiful nature” is the principle common to all the arts, and he
concludes with a discussion of the theatre as a combination of all the other arts.99
The point that Kristeller wants to make is that the notion of fine arts, as compared to craft
or mechanical arts, did not exist before that time, even though the notion saw its first light
towards the end of the seventeenth century with the quarrel of the Ancients and the Moderns,
which came about in the early 1690’s due to the discoveries that had been made in the
natural sciences. Even though the dispute related to literature, the Moderns were conscious
of these achievements, and tried to separate themselves from the views of the more
conservative Ancients. Kristeller claims that, from this controversy, the Moderns broadened
the dispute by making “a systematic comparison between achievements of antiquity and of
modern times in the various fields of human endeavor,”100 and developed a classification of
knowledge and culture. By examining the claims by both the Ancients and the Moderns, a
new perspective of art began to develop: in fields of human activity where mathematical
calculation was crucial and accumulation of knowledge proved important, the new
investigations showed, according to the Moderns of the time, that the progress of the
Moderns over the Ancients could be clearly demonstrated. However, in fields that are
dependent on the talent of the individual agent, “the relative merits of the ancients and the
moderns cannot be so clearly established but may be subject to controversy.”101 This was,
according to Kristeller’s theory, the first time ground was cleared for a distinction between
art and science. During the controversy Charles Perrault wrote Parallèle des Anciens et des
Modernes in four volumes between 1688 and 1696, in which, according to Kristeller, he
states that “in the case of poetry and eloquence, where everything depends on talent and
taste, progress cannot be asserted with the same confidence as in the case of the sciences
which depend on measurements.”102
To return to the issue of ‘creativity,’ Kristeller asserts that in the eighteenth century,
poetry, music, and the visual arts, painting, sculputure and architecture were for the first
time grouped together as fine arts: “The artist was guided no longer by reason or by rules
but by feeling and sentiment, intuition and imagination; he produced what was novel and
original, and at the point of his highest achievement he was a genius.”103 The notion of a
creative mind that originates works of art could be seen as diametrically opposite to a
tradition, where by definition preservation of form and imitation of classical works
constitutes the re-creation of artworks.
99
Kristeller, “The Modern System of the Arts: A Study in the History of Aesthetics Part II,” 1952, 20–21.
100
Kristeller, “The Modern System of the Arts: A Study in the History of Aesthetics Part I,” 1951, 525.
101
Ibid.
102
Ibid., 527.
103
Kristeller, “‘Creativity’ and ‘Tradition’,” 1983, 107.
41
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
So far, most definitions have conceived of folklore as a collection of things. These could
be either narratives, melodies, beliefs, or material objects. All of them are completed
products or formulated ideas; it is possible to collect them. In fact this last characteristic
has been at the base of the major portion of folklore research since its inception.108
104
The terms ‘mentifact’ (ideas and beliefs of a culture) and ‘sociofact’ (social structures of a culture) were coined
by Sir Julian Sorell Huxley (1887–1975).
105
Allan Gomme, “The Folk-Lore Society: Whence and Whither,” 1952, 3. From Gomme’s article one can
conclude that The Athenaeum was a journal that no longer exists.
106
Bronner, “The Meaning of Tradition: An Introduction,” 2000, 90.
107
Dan Ben-Amos, “The Seven Strands of Tradition: Varieties in Its Meaning in American Folklore Studies,” 1984,
104.
108
Ben-Amos, “Toward a Definition of Folklore in Context,” 1971, 9. The text was published in 1971, but it first
appeared in a shorter version as a presentation at the American Folklore Society Annual Meeting in Toronto,
November 1967.
42
Chapter 1 – Introduction
109
In Ben-Amos, “The Seven Strands of Tradition: Varieties in Its Meaning in American Folklore Studies,” 1984,
118. Emphasis in the original. In this text Ben-Amos explicates seven possible and existing ways of perceiving
‘tradition.’
110
The iemoto (家元) is the de facto head of a group, and s/he also constitutes the group’s aesthetic standard.
111
In Ben-Amos, “The Seven Strands of Tradition: Varieties in Its Meaning in American Folklore Studies,” 1984,
116.
112
Linnekin, “Defining Tradition: Variations on the Hawaiian Identity,” 1983, 241.
43
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
there was no difference between the process and the product; folklore was a performative
act.113 The telling of the tale is the tale in its social setting, i.e., the interaction between
narrator, the story, and the listeners, and folklore threfore becomes a communicative act in a
defined context. For Ben-Amos, internationalization can spread the content of a story, create
diffusion, but it is not folklore. As an act of communication, the interaction between a
narrator or musician and the listeners presupposes a certain ability to understand what is
being conveyed. They need to be speaking the same language, share the same values and
beliefs, they need to have the same or very similar background, and they need to be able to
decode signs that are used in the social interaction. Thus, any group of listeners has to be
such that all its members belong to the same reference group as the performer or narrator.
The size of a group of people who are in the process of communicating something also
needs to be such that all its members can be in physical contact. If the members cannot
relate to each other directly face-to-face – with or without any modern communication tools
– a process of communication cannot be established. For Ben-Amos, then, the definition of
‘folklore’ becomes: “artistic communication in small groups.”114
By completely excluding any reference to past events (tradition) or in what way it has
been conveyed (oral transmission), it is possible to avoid the sense of oldness and genuinity,
the connotations of persistence of form through time, and the lack of a sense of creativity
that these words tend to evoke. Ben-Amos definition is, however, problematic in two
respects. Firstly, with the requirement of a folkloristic act being limited to communication
in small groups, the notion of ‘folk’ loses its implications: it would be difficult to imagine a
‘folk’ in a small-group communication. This does, however, seem contradictory to the idea
that tales and music are handed down locally, within regions or even in bigger social units.
Secondly, Ben-Amos does not include any discussion on what aspects would differentiate
‘artistic communication’ from other forms of communication, thus causing him problems in
defining the characteristics of something being ‘artistic.’ On the other hand, if we
hypothetically assume that an artist intends to be ‘artistic,’ we may understand Ben-Amos
definition in terms of communication in small groups with the intention – or purpose – of
being ‘artistic.’
Even with these flaws, Ben-Amos’s definition is suggestive. Relating to Hobsbawm’s
invention of tradition, the ‘traditionality’ of a piece of music is not necessarily based on
historical facts. Ben-Amos says that if we take the content of a narrative or a piece of music,
which relates to old times, and combine this with a cultural conviction of its historicity, we
would have to present the stories or the music as if they were handed down from
antiquity.115 In some cases, the introduction of new ideas within an art form may also be
sanctioned by a reference to the traditionality of that art form. The characteristic of being
‘traditional’ is accidental, or construed for above-mentioned purposes, rather than being an
intrinsic and objective feature of the art form itself. The concept of ‘folklore’ thus changes
113
In 1984 Ben-Amos writes about ‘tradition’ the following way: “Tradition has survived criticism and remained a
symbol of and for folklore. It has been one of the principal metaphors to guide us in the choate world of experiences
and ideas.” Quote from “The Seven Strands of Tradition: Varieties in Its Meaning in American Folklore Studies,”
1984, 124. Emphasis in the original.
114
Ben-Amos, “Toward a Definition of Folklore in Context,” 1971, 13.
115
Ibid.
44
Chapter 1 – Introduction
from a thing to an act. Any tale or piece of music loses its ontological status – it would not
exist – except for in an act of ‘artistic communication in small groups.’
116
These references can be found in treatises on the court music and Nō theatre, e.g., the Taigen-shō, a treatise on
court music from 1512, and Sarugaki dangi, a collection of saying of Zeami, the father of Nō as we know it today.
See further Sections 3.3.1 and 4.5.2. The ‘rice field music’ (dengaku) was a popular music form as early as the 11th
century, and it was a competing development to the ‘monkey music’ (sarugaku) in the 14th century evolution of the
Nō theatre. Also sarugaku has an old history in Japan, probably related to the sangaku, which came to Japan in the
7th century.
117
See also Section 1.3.1.2 above, where the terms hōgaku (邦楽) and yōgaku (洋楽) are defined. Similar terms are
also used for example in films (hōga 邦画, and yōga 洋画), and they are commonly used in music and video stores,
etc. In these cases the translation ‘domestic’ may be better than ‘national.’
45
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
samurai, i.e., of the noble class. These monks used the shakuhachi foremost not as a musical
instrument, but as a religious implement.118
From the late eighteenth to the early twentieth centuries the shakuhachi retained a
position both as a religious implement used in meditative or spiritual practices, and as a
musical instrument employed in chamber music ensembles with other indigenous
instruments. During the twentieth century the shakuhachi began to be more widely used in
folk music, and also in collaboration with other ethnic music and their instruments, such as
jazz, Western classical music, Indian music and so on. From this perspective, and based on
the spread of the shakuhachi during the past 40–50 years and most prominently during the
past ten years, both in Japan and outside its borders, it is debatable what position the
shakuhachi should be said to hold in today’s society.
However, regardless of what position the shakuhachi has or has had in society, the
‘shakuhachi’ may be regarded as a ‘tradition’ that is transmitted semi-orally within the
boundaries of small groups. What is normally understood as a ‘traditional’ repertoire is still,
today, transmitted and performed within small groups that are defined by the iemoto (cf.
1.3.3.3) who is governing the group. Based on the above disussions, I find that the theories
used in folklore are fully applicable to the material used for the present study. 119
***
46
Chapter 1 – Introduction
the idea that the aim of folklore studies – for Georges exemplified within ‘folktales’ –
should be to isolate and identify, gather and classify, a number of recorded stories or tales:
“Nineteenth-century scholars came to regard stories as cultural artifacts and to conceive of
them as surviving or traditional linguistic entities pervaded by meaningful symbols.”121 He
continued by alleging that research within the field of folklore has had the same focus since
the nineteenth century, i.e., a historical perspective, in which the texts have been “nothing
more than a written representation” of what Georges regards as the above-mentioned
“complex communicative events.” Anthropologists, on the other hand, “have tended to
engage in synchronic studies.” Georges’s approach, however, is that the recorded texts,
normally collected and analyzed, constitute nothing more than one aspect of the message
communicated in these complex structure of a storytelling event.122
The idea of storytelling as an event is similar to a musical performance, and I find that
Georges’s notion of and discussion about these events, as one specialized case of
Ben-Amos’s ‘artistic communication,’ is of certain relevance for the present study. I will
regard Georges’s ‘storytelling events’ rather as ‘events of artistic communication’ and refer
to such events below as Events.
Ben-Amos defined himself away from ‘tradition,’ and Georges postulates himself away
from the same concept, by formulating what he regards as the constitutive elements of an
Event. Georges makes four postulates about the features of an Event: (1) The Event is a
communicative event, with one sender (performer/transmitter) and at least one receiver who
interprets the content (audience/student). The communication is direct, person-to-person,
and the two types of participants communicate through a coded message to convey a
cognitive or emotional content.123 Both audial and visual media are used. For Georges,
mainly concerned with narratives, the message is coded with linguistic, paralinguistic and
kinesic codes.124 From a viewpoint of musical performances, the message would be coded
with linguistic, paralinguistic, kinesic, and audial (tonal) codes. It may be argued that there
are no linguistic, or paralinguistic, codes in the case of a performance of instrumental music.
I would, however, argue in favour of the notion that a Georgeian Event – an event in
accordance with Georges’s definition – does contain these codes, even if it is a musical
performance. Most occasions of musical performances contain an explanation of the choice
of piece, an explanation of the piece itself, and in some (rare) cases, an explanation from the
performer of his or her feelings towards or thoughts about the piece. These auxilliary
sub-events should be regarded as belonging to the Event as a whole. The communicative act
is interactive, with continuous responses between the participating agents. (2) The Event is a
social experience, where all the participants establish specific identity relationships, and
assume social identities for the purpose of the Event. 125 The participants also act in
121
Ibid., 313.
122
Ibid., 314, 316.
123
Georges seems to present a simple communication theory of encoding-decoding, but I see no hindrance to the
assumption that the receiver not only and simply ‘decodes’ the transmitted message, but actually interprets it, based
on his or her individual experience. Hence, ‘communication’ should here be understood as a series of Poietic and
Esthesic Processes (see Section 1.6) by means of a Neutral Trace, the codes in Georges’s terminology.
124
‘Kinesic’ is a term used in lingustics, defined in Oxford English Dictionary as: “Of or pertaining to
communication effected non-vocally through movements or gestures.” (OED/OR, accessed April 4, 2011).
125
I would argue that this postulate supports the notion of ‘artistic communication for the purpose of X,’ as
discussed above.
47
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
accordance with their established and assumed identity relationships. The Event is of social
value for the participants, and its impact can be communicated outside of the Event to
non-participants. The Event also has a social function, not only for the participants in the
Event but also in the society surrounding the Event. (3) Each Event is a unique occasion in
time and space, and it generates nonreversible effects for the participants and in the larger
society surrounding the Event. (4) Events exhibit various degrees of similarities, whereby
individual Events can be grouped together as a certain type of Event. The criteria for
grouping Events are culturally determined, so different groups with different value systems
are likely to make different compilations of Events.126
From these postulates, Georges finds that the linguistic entities – or in the case under
study here, audial entities – cannot be regarded as ‘traditional entities,’ originating in a long
past through the efforts of anonymous creators, and then persisting through time and space.
The message conveyed is not a thing that can be lifted out of its context, and it exists only
as long as the individuals involved in the communicative act assume their roles. The
message of an Event, says Georges, “has no existence ‘outside’ the storytelling event itself.
… [It] is simply one aspect of an integral whole from which it and every other aspect of the
storytelling event are inseparable.”127 Ben-Amos almost reiterates this in the discussion
leading up to his definition of folklore. He states that there are two social conditions for a
folkloric act to occur: “both the performer and the audience have to be in the same situation
and be part of the same reference group,” which implies that they are in a situation “in
which people confront each other face to face and relate to each other directly.” From this
he concludes, as did Georges, that “even when a certain literary theme or musical style is
known regionally, nationally, or internationally, its actual existence depends upon such
small group situations.”128
Another issue that Georges approaches in a way that is similar to Ben-Amos is the
definition of folklore as being orally transmitted. If we insist that pure oral transmission is a
condition for something to be regarded as folklore, then the focus is on isolated forms rather
than the object of study in its totality. If the principal duty of a performer, a narrator of tales
or producer of sound, is to reproduce or re-create the material as accurately as possible, we
have to accept that the stories or the pieces of music are stable, unchanging physical entities,
against which we can compare the factual outcome of a given event.129 Any change in the
outcome would also have to be evaluated as accidental; most likely it would appear without
the conscious intention of the performer, and therefore it would probably have to be deemed
unavoidable. From Georges’s postulates, we must, however, conclude that an Event is
generated and shaped by – and exists because of – a specific situation, in which all
participants interact. To say that two separate Events communicate the same message, or
that they constitute two variations of one and the same message, is misleading.
126
Georges, “Toward an Understanding of Storytelling Events,” 1969, 317–319.
127
Ibid., 323.
128
Ben-Amos, “Toward a Definition of Folklore in Context,” 1971, 12–13. Emphasis added.
129
I am not using the word “Event” (capitalized) here; if we assume that there are physical entities that exist
independently from actual performances, we would not be able to accept the notion of an Event.
48
Chapter 1 – Introduction
Such assertions merely reinforce the notion that the messages of storytelling events enjoy,
in some way, an independent or semi-independent existence—that they are entities which
can be “handed down” or “passed on” and which “vary” and “change” accidentally,
unconsciously, or unavoidably.130
If the linguistically coded message, the text, were to be regarded as the total message of
the Event, several aspects would be missed. It would lead to the collection of entities,
presumed to contain a full coverage of the content.
Ben-Amos asserts that oral texts, whether narratives, songs, or instrumental music “cross
over into the domain of written literature and … musical arts; conversely, the oral
circulation of songs and tales has been affected by print.”131 This is a situation that is
common to many cultures, and it is definitely the case with the ‘traditional’ music in Japan;
songs, stories, music have been recorded, written down, notated since centuries ago, and the
relevant notated material for the present study has roots going back to the sixteenth century.
Still, the ‘traditional’ shakuhachi music is mainly regarded as being transmitted in a
semi-oral fashion. It would be heavily fallacious to regard the notated aspects of the
shakuhachi music as a total mapping of its musical content (cf. Chapter 8).
130
Georges, “Toward an Understanding of Storytelling Events,” 1969, 324.
131
Ben-Amos, “Toward a Definition of Folklore in Context,” 1971, 14.
132
Nishiyama Matsunosuke (西山松之助, 1912–); Tokyo Kyōiku Daigaku (東京教育大学).
133
To my knowledge, only Edo Culture: Daily Life and Diversions in Urban Japan, 1600–1868, University of
Hawaii Press, 1997, has been translated into English. This book is a collection of writings by Nishiyama.
134
hiden (秘伝).
49
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
his Nō treatise Fūshikaden, she concludes that in existing scholarship on Zeami, 135 a
dichotomy between traditionality and originality, and by extension also creativity, has
become a problem: “the discursive paradigm in which Zeami resides treats creativity and
traditionality as potentially—and desirably—fusible attributions.” 136 The existing
scholarship to which she refers relates to the discussion above, in Section 1.3.3.2, about the
birth of the notion of ‘creativity’ as something diametrically opposed to ‘tradition’ in
Western disciplines. I discuss Morinaga and her notion of ‘dynamic hearsay’ in Section 4.4
below.
‘Shakuhachi,’ understood as a music genre, stretches from music cultures in ancient
times to the present day, and there is a need for a discussion of what the expression
“traditional shakuhachi music” actually stands for from a Japanese standpoint. Nishiyama
Matsunosuke refers to the term geidō, 137 as one of the characteristics peculiar to the
traditional Japanese arts (nihon no dentō geijutsu), in contrast to other cultures.
It seems that the traditional arts of Japan, both in regard to fundamental ideas and
aesthetics, contain elements that are highly different from the classical arts of the various
countries in the West as well as all the countries in the East. One of these [elements] is, I
think, what is called geidō.138
Before discussing Nishiyama’s definition of the term, I need to make a comment about
how Nishiyama introduces the concept. I think it is possible to accept the hypothesis of an
existing concept of a geidō within the traditional arts of Japan, without having to deal with
the implied uniqueness in this quote. 139 I will assume that the concept of geidō is a
characteristic feature of the traditional arts, but I do not in any way exclude the possibility
that the same or similar characteristics exist in other (music) cultures. Rather, it is my firm
belief that the characteristics discussed below are not unique to any single culture, even if
the term itself is fairly old in Japan. According to Nishiyama, the term geidō appears for the
first time in Zeami’s Kakyō, written in 1424.140 Also Konparu Zenchiku, a Muromachi
period Nō drama actor, is using the term in his Kabuzuinōki of 1456.141
135
Morinaga does not give a full account of research on Zeami, and cites only two Japanese scholars with respect to
the dichotomy to which she refers.
136
Morinaga, Secrecy in Japanese Arts …, 2005, 59.
137
geidō (芸道). The characters for geidō consist of the character for ‘art’ (gei, 芸), and the character for ‘way’ (here
read dō, 道). Another way of expressing it would be the reading gei no michi (芸の道).
138
Nishiyama, Geidō to dentō, 1984, 141. Also in Nishiyama, “Kinsei geijutsu shisō no tokushitsu to sono tenkai”
Nihon shisō taikei 61: Kinsei geidō-ron, 1972, 585. (日本の伝統芸術には、根本的な思想や美学の点においても、西洋諸国や
東洋の各国における古典芸術と、かなり異なったものがあるようである。その一つが芸道というものであろうと私は思う。).
139
The text is from 1972, in the midst of an era of what can be called “positive nihonjin-ron.” The concept
‘nihonjin-ron’ is a genre of writings that attempts to explain the essential qualities of the core of Japanese culture
and its people by using nationality, ethnicity and culture as synonymous terms. Often it describes the ‘Japaneseness’
of things Japanese as something unique in the world, and something, which, by its very essence, is impossible to
comprehend for others than the Japanese people.
140
Nishiyama, Geidō to dentō, 1984, 141. The passage in Kakyō (花鏡) is translated in the following ways.
Rimer and Yamazaki: “In whatever artistic pursuit, one studies and then understands, studies and then understands,
so that he will know how to carry out his art in actual practice.” (Rimer, Yamazaki, On the Art of the Nō Drama,
1984, 106); Thomas Hare: “In every artistic vocation, there is a proper way to proceed: you should learn and learn,
study and study, and then bring it into effect.” (Thomas Hare, Zeami: Performance Notes, 2008, 122).
ならひならひ かく おこなふ
(一切芸道に、 習 々 覺 し々々て、さて 行 道あるべし, in Nihon koten bungaku taikei 65, 1973, 435.
141
Konparu Zenchiku (金春禅竹, 1405–1471). An early Edo period copy of Kabuzuinōki (歌舞髄脳記) is available at
http://hdl.handle.net/10114/4953.
50
Chapter 1 – Introduction
Nishiyama defines geidō as “the way [dō] of art [gei] put into practice.” An integral part
of the gei consists of “using the body … the whole or a part of the body and put it to work,
and thereby creating a cultural value, or re-creating [it], that very work.”142 Furthermore, the
‘work (of the body),’ or hataraki in Nishiyama’s terms, creates a ‘work of art,’ geijutsu
sakuhin, which normally would be a tangible cultural asset. The resulting product – the
object – is not related to the Way of the Art, geidō.143 This object is what I will refer to as a
‘neutral trace’ or as belonging to the ‘neutral level’ – in all practicality, a physical entity –
following J. J. Nattiez’s analytical model, which I explain in Section 1.6.
For Nishiyama the ‘working’ (hataraki-kata) itself is an intangible cultural asset, and that
which defines the way of the art. Thus, he reaches a conclusion in which geidō is the way of
conducting the art, enjiru enji-kata. The way of conducting an art form is limited to the rules
of this art, the prescriptive elements, which, in the case of Japanese arts, take the form of
various kata according to Nishiyama.144 It is worth noting here that the terms hataraki-kata
(働き方) and enjiru enji-kata (演じる演じ方) are not related to the word kata (型) denoting a
prescriptive form. The two former kata (方) denote a way of doing something, and the latter
(型) denotes a prescriptive form, a mold. These terms are homophones, but not homographs,
and should not be confused with each other.
I return to Nishiyama’s concept of geidō and kata in Chapter 8, but following
Nishiyama’s line of argument, any art form that develops a form, kata, that regulates and
prescribes the correct way of conducting the art, enji-kata, will be part of the traditional art,
in as much as it is geidō. The forms are applied to prescribe bodily movements that are the
processes, i.e., the art, that may result in a tangible object. The processes constitute art, and
thereby geidō is established. 145 The existence of kata within any given art form will
therefore be a necessary – if yet not decisively sufficient – condition for that art form to be a
traditional Japanese art form.
142
Nishiyama, “Kinsei geijutsu shisō …,” 1972, 585–586. (芸道というのは、芸を実践する道である。芸とは、肉体を用いて
… 体の全体または一部をはたらかすことによって、文化価値を創りだすとか、または再創造するとかをする、そのはたらきをいう。).
143
Nishiyama argues that any artefact created by and through an artistic process has no relation whatsoever to the
Way of Art (geidō). The process leading to the artefact is, however, an aspect of geidō. Thus, geidō is the concrete
and artful realisation of form by an individual. He excludes all kinds of concrete products, such as pottery, paintings,
sculptures, and so on. (Ibid., 590).
144
Ibid., 586, 596.
145
Ibid., 590.
51
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
146
See Chapters 3 and 4.
147
See Section 5.1.5.
148
See Sections 3.2, 3.3, and Chapters 4 and 7.
52
Chapter 1 – Introduction
half of the seventeenth century, a status it had for about two hundred years, was based on
socio-political concerns rather than on historically proven facts.149 At the same time, all the
historical studies refer back to an older, pre-Edo-period history. They claim that the
shakuhachi had certain specific connections to music and religious usage in the Medieval
Period. On the basis of medieval sources, the historical studies make reference to the time of
the historically famous Prince Shōtoku, who lived in the late sixth and early seventh
centuries.150 Through these studies we have access to certain historical data, but there are
also several aspects in the studies that are given without explicit references to sources, and
the ‘facts’ are often presented without any discussion of their historical reliability. I
introduce and expand on these studies in my analyses below. The shakuhachi does have a
historically proven past, but there may, however, be a question whether the interpretations
of the past are based on historical facts that are reliable and consistent with each other, or
only suitable for the groups of which they are the definable origin. The question is, thus, in
what respects the shakuhachi tradition – in Hobsbawm’s terminology – is a ‘real’ or an
‘invented’ tradition.
149
See Chapters 4 and 7.
150
This aspect is further discussed in Chapter 7. Shōtoku Taishi has become a symbol of what is commonly thought
of as originally and essentially Japanese, and a reference to him adds value to the referent.
151
It is of course conceivable that the intention is to affect oneself, to put oneself in a certain state of mind, or that
the performer has no purpose whatsoever. In the former case, whether it is an audience or not is determined by the
given situation, and in the latter case, the performer would at least seem to have the purpose of being purposeless,
i.e., carrying an intention of not having any specified purpose.
53
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
items and performance,”152 and the items are those of what he refers to as ‘expressive
folklore.’ For Abrahams, ‘tradition’ becomes an abstract system of rules that guide a
performer.153 However, to use Georges’s term, an Event is conducted for a purpose, and
thus, in Abrahams’s words, “each item of expressive culture is … a tool of persuasion.”154
In order to allow for the participants to be able to interpret and appreciate the expressive
elements of an Event, even the techniques employed in the performance have to be in line
with something that is preconceived – or at least within the boundaries of what is expected –
by the audience. The participants will reflect on the creativity of the performance, how
much invention is invited into the performance, but also how much would be permitted or
demanded from the given context. An argument will not be persuasive, and the listener will
not accept persuasion, if it is not comprehensible to him or her. A performance may not be
accepted as a ‘performance’ if the content of the performance is in conflict with the
expectations of the audience, which implies that the listener evaluates the levels of
‘creativity’ and ‘traditionality.’155
To give an aesthetic experience or a persuasive argument to an expecting audience does,
however, require that the prescriptive elements guiding the performance – of music in this
study – are less fixed than in some other situations. Abrahams distuinguishes between
different types of what he refers to as Enactments,156 or intensified events, stating that in
performance individuals “take aesthetic responsibility for the enactment,” and while
viewing play as a different type of Enactment, still finds that “[p]laying, whether in game or
performance, is unique in its capacity to rearrange features and factors of behaviour.”157 The
different types of Enactments may cross over and into each other, but in general, the four
types of Enactments – play, games and sports; performances; rituals; and festivities – are
discrete entities, because they occur at different situations, and they require different
conventions, roles, and relations. He contrasts Performances with Rituals, in which the
sequence of actions taken by the performer is stereotyped. Abrahams states that:
152
Roger D. Abrahams, “Introductory Remarks to a Rhetorical Theory of Folklore,” 1968, 145.
153
Ben-Amos interprets Abrahams as asserting the existence of “an abstract system of rules and symbols that exists
as a guiding pattern and as a storehouse of themes and forms that can be enacted during appropriate situations by
capable performers.” In Dan Ben-Amos, “The Seven Strands of Tradition: Varieties in Its Meaning in American
Folklore Studies,” 1984, 122.
154
Abrahams, “Introductory Remarks to a Rhetorical Theory of Folklore,” 1968, 146.
155
Even in performances of contemporary music, with an audience supporting this music, it occurs that the audience
reacts with dismay if not able to comprehend what is going on. John Cage’s piece 4’33” is a piece in which a pianist
enters the stage, sits down at the piano, and then does nothing for 4 minutes and 33 seconds, then closes the lid and
leaves the stage: the piece consists of nothing but silence. Commenting on the first performance of his piece, John
Cage says: “People began whispering to one another, and some people began to walk out. They didn't laugh – they
were just irritated when they realized nothing was going to happen, and they haven’t forgotten it 30 years later:
they’re still angry.” (Cage in conversation with Michael John White (1982), in Kostelanetz 1988, p. 66. Quoted
from http://solomonsmusic.net/4min33se.htm, accessed Novembre 16, 2010).
156
As with Events, I have capitalized Enactment, as well as the four types of enactments that Abrahams defines:
Play, Performance, Ritual, and Festivity. To these four I have added one: Transmission. I argue for this addition
below. I capitalize the words when I use them to denote the representative object of the communicative act of play,
performane, ritual, festivity, or transmission respectively.
157
Abrahams, “Toward an Enactment-Centered Theory of Folklore,” 1977, 101. Abrahams does however mean that
play and performace are different, but I would hold that the similarities referred to here are in line with Abrahams
own argument that “expression is designed to influence” (“Introductory Remarks to a Rhetorical Theory of Folklore,”
1968, 146.). If an expression is designed to influence, and the individual has aesthetic responsibility in his purpose
of X, it seems inevitable that features and factors of behaviour may be rearranged, and thereby change the outcome
of the performed item.
54
Chapter 1 – Introduction
[In Ritual there is] a rendering of transition through an (almost) invariant sequencing of
symbolic or “deep” actions, images, and use of objects; expressed in the most
self-consciously employed and monitored expressive codes; and ritual “offices” or roles
involved in carrying out that experience.158
The situation and stylized behaviour decide the type of Enactment, but this does not
mean that they are not interrelated. Thus, a Performance may have ritualistic aspects, or
playful ones, and a Ritual may, and often does, include festive parts, for example, the
celebration after a wedding ceremony.
For the purpose of the present study I wish to add one type of enactment that I think is
missing in Abrahams’s list: Transmission. In a teaching situation of ‘traditional’ music the
process of transmission becomes central, whether the transmission is oral or semi-oral. The
shakuhachi tradition is transmitted in a semi-oral fashion, and the hierarchical structure
surrounding Transmission makes it similar to Ritual. 159 There are, however, several
differences: a ritual is often conducted on sacred ground, or at least purports to be so. In
many rituals the recipients of the ritual are normally not expected to take on the same role as
the officiant (a wedded couple is not supposed to become priests), whereas in a transmission
event, the receiver is supposed to eventually take a similar role as the transmitter.160 In a
Transmission-type enactment we may discern ritualistic aspects, as well as playful ones, but
Transmission fulfills Abrahams’s conditions for something to qualify as a discrete
Enactment: the time, place and occasion when it occurs, the conventions surrounding it, the
roles and relationships between transmitter and receiver, codes of expressivity, and rules of
behaviour,161 are typical for what I will refer to as the Transmission-type of Enactment, and
different from the other types of Enactments that Abrahams lists.
For Georges, each person involved in an Event selects a social identity from the multiple
social identities in his or her social persona: One person assumes the role of storyteller. The
others (normally more than one) assume identities as listeners from their available selection.
After that they act in accordance with the duties prescribed by the assumed identities.162 The
roles assumed are, however, not social facts, but rather a part of the social practice, or a
process in line with expectations and ideals prevalent in the given context. Abrahams refers
to the patterns by which roles are assumed or taken as ‘schemas.’163 I would substitute
Georges’s storyteller for a transmitter in my investigation, and the listeners for students or
receivers.
158
Abrahams, “Toward an Enactment-Centered Theory of Folklore,” 1977, 110.
159
This may be debated, but the hierarchy of the iemoto system, with an artistic (and social) leader controlling the
group, and a number of formalized behavioural patterns to learn in the process of acquiring the art, some aspects of
the total social fact surrounding the learning process could maybe be analyzed as Ritual. I would, however, prefer to
make a distinction between Ritual and Transmission.
160
The definition of ‘transmitter’ is rather wide: the role of transmitter is at least someone who is able to tell about
the music. Normally, the transmitter is also a performer, or at least someone who is performing. The receiver is
supposed to take on both these roles after completion, but Performance and Transmission (Transmittance) are
separate Events, and therefore the roles of Performer and Transmitter are separated, even if it normally is one and
the same individual.
161
Abrahams, “Toward an Enactment-Centered Theory of Folklore,” 1977, 100–101.
162
Georges, “Toward an Understanding of Storytelling Events,” 1969, 320.
163
Abrahams, “Toward an Enactment-Centered Theory of Folklore,” 1977, 109.
55
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
The roles assumed or taken, as a performer, listener, transmitter, or receiver, are thus
related to and prescribed by the context. The same is true for the actual patterns of the
enactment, which means that there is a correlation between situation and item, between the
performative activity and that which is performed in terms of how it is performed: the
prescriptive elements of the performed item, kata. Thus, it seems that Nishiyama’s notion of
kata should be regarded as implicitly including not only prescriptive elements and the
structural aspects of form, but also the formalized aspects of the situation.
1.5.1 Aim
Most of the research conducted on the shakuhachi, both as an instrument and the music
performed on it, is historical. There are only a few studies focusing on musical analysis. As
I mention in Section 1.4, a study of the ‘traditionality’ of shakuhachi would require a critical
study of the transmission of the shakuhachi. But, since this is not feasible, I find the
question of transmission a two-fold one: Firstly we have the question of how the shakuhachi
relates to the older history in Japan; this issue is connected to the above discussion of
historical authenticity. Secondly we have the question of how this tradition has been
transmitted from the Early Modern Period to our time; this issue is concerned with the
constituents of the prescriptive forms, which supposedly are at work in the process of
transmission.
‘Tradition’ is often viewed as an unbroken continuum, where a ‘true’ or ‘pure’ line back
to the ‘origin’ is valued. This is especially true within the world of music culture that is
rooted in the Edo period. What are the ‘traditional’ precedents in traditional shakuhachi
music? The historical studies by Japanese scholars and researchers are more or less
congruous in regard to the history of the shakuhachi during the Edo period, and the most
influential writing in recent years has been Nakatsuka Chikuzen’s study from 1936–1939,
reissued as a book in 1979.164 This study gives a thorough account of older history, and the
development during the Edo period. In academia there is but one study – in English by
Andreas Gutzwiller in 1974 – that does not disclaim the legendary origins of the
shakuhachi.
The aim of the present work is not to challenge these historical findings. Nevertheless,
the studies authored in Japanese – basically reiterated in studies that are written in English,
e.g., Lee 1993 – also make reference to the older history, and implicitly make claims that
the shakuhachi has connections to Buddhism in pre-Edo-period times. None of the Japanese
studies make any critical remarks about the findings. The aim of Chapters 4–7 is to conduct
a critical study of the twentieth-century research that relates to the pre-Edo-period history.
164
Nakatsuka Chikuzen, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (A Historical View of Kinko-ryū Shakuhachi).
See Chapter 2 for an overview of the relevant texts.
56
Chapter 1 – Introduction
My hypothesis is that the assumed connection between monks in the Medieval Period and
the Edo-period monks is construed. To explicate further, Chapter 4 is a critical investigation
of the creation of an origin and the invention of a tradition by the komusō monks during the
Edo period. I argue that the komusō created a source and invented a tradition, rather than
developing an already existing tradition, which is the commonly accepted theory in most
other studies. In Chapters 5–6 I examine the primary sources that are drawn upon in the
twentieth-century writings on the history of the shakuhachi, and indicate that the
twentieth-century writings, intentionally or not, provide a re-creation of tradition, furnishing
the shakuhachi with an alleged older indigenous origin with strong connections to
Buddhism.
The social environment surrounding the Enactment of transmission is a strict hierarchical
system, within the framework of the iemoto-seido, 165 which may be a reason for the
scarceness of critical studies of the pieces or the transmission. Tsukitani Tsuneko166 is one
of the few Japanese who have conducted studies of the pieces transmitted in different
lineages, and Riley Lee conducted a thorough study of transmission in his Ph. D. thesis
from 1993 (cf. Chapter 2). In the present study I employ a model of analysis presented by
Jean-Jacques Nattiez,167 a French Canadian musicologist and semiologist, who built his
tripartitional division of analysis on the theories of Jean Molino: (1) the creative processes
leading up to a work of art, referred to as poietic processes, (2) the intellectual processes
leading to, in a wide meaning of the word, an aesthetic experience of the work of art, the
esthesic processes, and (3) the objectively observable facts, the neutral traces. Any
discourse on music should, according to Nattiez, contain an analysis of the neutral trace, the
concrete facts of music. What structural elements are we concerned with in terms of the
transmission of the music, and what position and function do they have in the total social
fact of the transmission of the shakuhachi tradition? I apply Nattiez’s model, not only to the
actual processes of transmission conducted in today’s world, but also to the historical
studies in Chapters 4–7. The model employed is explained and discussed in Section 1.6
“Analytical Model and Methodology” below.
The aim of Chapter 8 of this study is to investigate the notion of traditionality in the
process of transmission, based on the notion of kata, as defined by Nishiyama (cf. Section
1.3.4), and the Enactment theory presented by Abrahams (cf. Section 1.4.2) above. I also
discuss kata as a structural concept as presented by the Japanese musicologists Kikkawa
Eishi and Tsukitani Tsuneko. The following questions arise: What are the defining
characters of kata, and what relation can be found between prescriptive elements and the
situation of Enactment? My hypothesis is that kata is a fluid concept that does not
correspond to a definable and solely structural unit of the music, and that it is only definable
in terms of individual variations. By analyzing the Poietic and Esthesic Processes involved
165
The iemoto-seido, iemoto system, is the name of a socially constructed society, in which a head of a line, lineage,
or school, the iemoto, has the supreme authority of his or her line, lineage, or school. Normally, an iemoto has social,
ecnomical, administrational, and aesthetic authority over his or her organisation, and over the effects these aspects
exert on the members of the organisation.
166
月溪恒子, 1944–2010, professor in musicology at the Osaka National University of Fine Arts and Music until her
untimely demise on September 23, 2010.
167
Jean-Jacques Nattiez is a prominent exponent of musical semiotics as a distinct discipline. The University of
Paris VIII awarded him the world’s first doctorate in the semiology of music in 1972.
http://psychology.jrank.org/pages/2109/Jean-‐Jacques-Nattiez.html.
57
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
in the act of transmission, I attempt to deconstruct the perception of kata as a static, fixed,
and rigid form.
1.5.2 Limitations
As mentioned in Section 1.5.1, the historical studies agree on the Edo-period history of the
shakuhachi. During most of this time the shakuhachi was played by mendicant monks,
so-called komusō. The sect surrounding the komusō, the Fuke-shū, has never been officially
acknowledged but in a regulation from 1677 the temples and sub-temples of “the various
factions of komusō” were given official status.168 Tsukitani Tsuneko, one of the very few
academics studying the shakuhachi in Japan, states that “[t]his was the first time the bakufu
[central authorities] submitted an official notification to the komusō temples, with the
significance that the bakufu acknowledged the Fuke sect as a denomination.”169 In the
notification, there is, however, no mention of ‘Fuke-shū’ in any respect. Tsukitani
concludes that, “the temples began using ‘Fuke-shū’ or ‘Fuke Zen-shū’ to label
themselves.170
There is agreement among scholars and researchers regarding the reason for
acknowledging the sect and its monks. The komusō were of noble birth, i.e., samurai, but in
his research Nakatsuka Chikuzen, who wrote one of the most comprehensive and most
circulated studies on the history of the shakuhachi, concludes that the Fuke sect was more
than anything else a place to stay for the masterless samurai, rōnin, of the late seventeenth
century.
Thus, the main object of this law [Keichō okite-gaki171 ] was to be a rescue shelter for
these rōnin. [The notion of a] rescue shelter comprises several meanings, for example an
attempt to provide a secure place where the emaciated rōnin, [a condition] not common
among officers, could get clothes, food and roof over their heads, or to offer an
extraterritorial zone for those who were discontent with the central authorities, or to offer
a temporary hideaway for those who wanted to take revenge, and so on.172
As mentioned above, the legendary origin of the shakuhachi, with its roots in Rinzai Zen
Buddhism, is widely disclaimed by scholars. I discuss this aspect in Chapter 4, but in the
168
Kurihara Kōta, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 155–156. A total of sixteen factions are mentioned. (虚無僧諸派).
169
Tsukitani Tsuneko, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 30. (これは虚無僧寺に対し幕府が出した初めての公
たっし
式「 達 」文書で、幕府が宗派としての普化宗を認めたことを意味する。).
Nakatsuka Chikuzen says he believes that two fifteenth century Rinzai Zen Buddhist monks, Ikkyū and Rōan, in
combination, created the perceived connection to Fuke. Nakatsuka says that Ikkyū was a very knowledgable person,
and he also refers to Fuke in his writings, and that for Ikkyū, “Rōan is Fuke in his heart.” (Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū
shakuhachi shikan (1936-39), 1979, 261, 265. The existence of Rōan is, however, not historically proven.
(Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 73. Also see Section 7.2.1.1)
170
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 30. (「普化宗」あるいは「普化禅宗」はむしろ、虚無僧寺院の
側から名のりはじめ t ものである。).
171
See Section 4.2 for details.
172
Nakatsuka Chikuzen, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 238. (要するに浪人救済収容という事が此掟書の
眼目であった、救済収容という内には士官の途なき痩せ浪人の為に衣食住の安全を計ってやる事や、幕府に対して不平を抱く者に
治外法権的安全地帯を提供する事や、敵討をしたい者に一時の隠れ場を提供する事等々色々な意味が含まれて居る。).
58
Chapter 1 – Introduction
1.5.3 Position
The present research is an interdisciplinary study of ‘tradition’ in the history of musical
culture in Japan. The aim is to discuss what elements constitute a tradition, both in its
historical aspects of authenticity, and in respect to the process of transmission. What
grounds exist to claim historical precedence? What are the constituents of transmission? It is
a study of a ‘traditional’ art form, including and combining several aspects of what
constitutes something ‘traditional’: the historical position, covering also socio-historical
aspects, and the prescriptive factors in a modern realisation of the art form, covering
folklore research, ethno-musicology, and anthropology.
173
Kinko-ryū is the oldest existing lineage of shakuhachi, established in the late eighteenth or early nineteenth
century. The name comes from Kurosawa Kinko (黒沢琴古), 1710–1771. His real name was Kurosawa Kōhachi (黒澤
幸八).
174
山口五郎. Living National Treasure is the common translation of ningen kokuhō, which is turn is the popular term
for jūyō mukei bunka-zai (重要無形文化財), Important Intangible Cultural Asset. Yamaguchi also recorded a solo
shakuhachi piece for NASA’s Voyager II project.
59
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Roger Abrahams, cited above in Section 1.4.2, reports four basic ways in which a work of
art can be approached, regardless of whether the work of art is viewed as ‘traditional’ or not.
The first approach is to see the work of art and the effect it has on an audience, “as
by-products of the manipulative energies of the performing creator or interpreter”; the
second approach views the work of art as an object, “divorcing the artist and his audience
from consideration”; and the third is concerned with “the way in which the performance
affects the audience.”175 Besides these three dimensions or levels of analysis, Abrahams also
refers to a fourth approach, in which the effect the audience has on the performer is studied.
This approach, interesting as it may be, is of less importance for the present study,
concerned with historical authenticity and transmission, and I have therefore not included it
in the analysis. The first three approaches coincide with what is referred to as the Poietic,
Neutral, and Esthesic Levels in the model put forward by Jean Jacques Nattiez, mentioned
also in Section 1.5 above. The terminology Nattiez uses is further explored in the sections
below. His model is introduced in Musicologie générale et sémiologie, with the English title
Music and Discorse: Towards a Semiology of Music, translated by Carolyn Abbate. The
theoretical foundation of his model is based on the premises presented by the semiologist
Jean Molino,176 especially his tripartite model, and the semiological notions of Charles
Sanders Peirce (1839–1914).
The similarity with Abrahams’s line-up of approaches is not a point of discussion;
Nattiez is stating that what he refers to as poietic analysis, analysis of the neutral level, and
esthesic analysis “correspond to three autonomous tendencies already present in the history
of musical analysis.”177 The levels of analysis are already there to begin with, and the
problem, the issue at stake, is how they can be connected. Nattiez suggests what he refers to
as the tripartitional approach as a means to combine the three levels of analysis in order to
reach a more complete understanding of the material under study.
Nattiez’s model is, in his own words, an attempt to build a semiological model for the
analysis of music. He places emphasis on the need for an analysis of the concrete object,
which is the material under study, what he calls the neutral level. Apart from this concrete
constituent of music, whether in terms of a written score or the sonorous realisation, he also
asserts the need to investigate the processes leading to the production of the object, what he
calls poietic processes, as well as those that lead to an experience of the object, what he
calls esthesic processes. The combination of these three levels is referred to as the
tripartitional approach. In this section I explicate Nattiez’s model and the reasons for
employing it in the present study.178 I capitalize the words when they are used as terms, to
avoid confusion with their everyday meanings.
175
Abrahams, “Introductory Remarks to a Rhetorical Theory of Folklore,” 1968, 144.
176
I have not been able to obtain much biographical data about Jean Molino. To my knowledge, his latest known
position was as professor at the University of Lausanne.
177
Nattiez, Music and Discourse. Toward a Semiology of Music, 1990, 138.
178
I have previously found Nattiez’s model useful in the study of music, and I used his model also for my master
thesis at Tokyo Geijutsu Daigaku. The content of that study is introduced in Section 1.1 above.
60
Chapter 1 – Introduction
emic: of, relating to, or involving analysis of cultural phenomena from the perspective of
one who participates in the culture being studied. 180
etic: of, relating to, or involving analysis of cultural phenomena from the perspective of
one who does not participate in the culture being studied. 181
In Pike’s definition of the terms, “the emic perspective focuses on the intrinsic cultural
distinctions that are meaningful to the members of a given society,” and, “[t]he etic
perspective … relies upon the extrinsic concepts and categories that have meaning for
scientific observers.”182 Besides Pike, another scholar who is closely associated with these
concepts is the cultural anthropologist Marvin Harris. For Pike, the etic approach is a way of
understanding the emic, whereas for Harris, the etic approach, or the result of an etic
approach, is a goal in itself.183
However, an analysis of the Poietic and Esthesic Dimensions of a performative act that is
not influenced by or concerned with the context – purely etic, if any such thing exists – can
lead to a misunderstanding of the function and role that the performative act has. On the
other hand, a purely emic analysis – again assuming the purity of such an analysis – may not
be understood by those outside the culture, since, per definition, it refers to the music seen
only through the indigenous eyes. In other fields of research, e.g., literature, a combination
of the two approaches has been employed: “an emic perspective understood as an ‘insider’s
view’ constructed from ‘the outside’ for a specifically defined purpose has proven quite
useful as an analytical tool in our discussions of genres and genre concepts.” 184 The
researcher, thus, needs to maintain an open dialogue between the insider and the outsider
paradigms in order to outline the nature of the relationship between them. Nattiez also holds
that “there can be no purely emic or purely etic analysis.”185 Both insider and outsider
viewpoints should be included, in relation to the three poles of the tripartition, and
integrated into the web of symbolic functioning (see further below).
179
Nattiez, Music and Discourse: Toward a Semiology of Music, 1990, 56.
180
MW/OR, emic, accessed Decembre 6, 2010.
181
MW/OR, etic, accessed on Decembre 6, 2010.
182
James Lett, “Emic/Etic Distinctions”: http://faculty.ircc.cc.fl.us/faculty/jlett/publications.htm accessed December
9, 2010.
183
Ibid.
184
Gunilla Lindberg-Wada, “Introduction: Genji monogatari …,” 2006, 3.
185
Nattiez, Music and Discourse: Toward a Semiology of Music, 1990, 196
61
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
One difficulty in combining the insider and outsider paradigms is that the researcher is
supposed to be an insider to – have some inside knowledge of – the culture s/he is studying,
which an outsider group does not have. S/he is also expected to keep an outsider’s distance
to the culture under study in order to maintain an objective perspective. The people
belonging to the studied culture, the members of the group under study, are supposed not to
have, or not be able to maintain, such objectivity. The insider knowledge combined with the
supposed objectiveness of the outsider is expected to give some authority to actually
performing the study and writing about the culture in question.
In the position of an ‘objective outsider’ it is important not to become limited by
ethnocentric thinking; the research per se, the writing, the written text, the reading of this
text by outsiders (readers) is all part of an insider culture – in this case the Western culture –
with the culture under study helplessly an outsider, and in the worst case, seen as an inferior
culture. In particular, the problem of objectivity pertains to the neutral level. It is neutral
only in so much as it is a trace, but it does not include any ‘objective’ elements; the trace is
a trace because of the Poietic Processes that are evaluated within a cultural context. Nattiez
asserts that: “An analysis in effect states itself in the form of a discourse – spoken or written
– and it is consequently the product of an action; it leaves a trace and gives rise to readings,
interpretations, and criticism.”186
The researcher, however objective s/he tries to be, experiences the music under study on
the Esthesic Level by definition, and the Esthesic Processes are biased by one’s own
cultural context. To talk about a purely neutral level is rather a theoretical fantasy. Even if
we accept the existence of the Neutral Level as such, we cannot understand it except from a
cultural context: we are all cultural beings. What we can do in respect to the trace is to set
up hypothesises, which explain Poietic and Esthesic Processes behind the creation and
perception of the trace.
186
Ibid., 133
187
To be able to play a piece of music does not necessarily make a person able to understand the piece in such terms
that s/he is able to explain what is going on. I return to this issue in Chapter 8.
62
Chapter 1 – Introduction
account of his own “intellectual evolution” and also “a rich variety of research” that had
come to his attention since 1975.188 Nattiez also touches upon ethnomusicological research:
In ethnomusicology, it was thought for a long time that the indigenous peoples were not
capable of meta-musical conceptualization, and they were simply not asked about such
conceptualizations. … [but] developments in cognitive anthropology and ethnoscience
have encouraged certain ethnomusicologists (traumatized by the specter of
ethnocentrism) to believe that the indigenous informant’s word is always and necessarily
more ‘true’ than that of the external observer.189
Nattiez views this not as typical for ethnomusicology, but more as an example of what
we find in musicological research in general: “the musician’s rejection of musicological
discourse, a discourse considered parasitic,” but on the other hand, Nattiez continues,
“[t]here is the usual musicologist’s rejection of the musician’s discourse: ‘the composer
doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s the last to know anything about the results of
his creative activity’.” 190 Any researcher who is undertaking a study of music will
encounter these or similar problems. Nattiez also outlines the connection between
discourse and music in regard to studies of music in other cultures than the researcher’s
own. His views can be summarized as follows: The indigenous performers’ discourses do
have an effect on the musical corpus. As an outsider, an ethnomusicologist can study not
only the music itself, but also the indigenous discourse, and the relationship between
discourse and actual practice, including all effects it may have on the music itself.191 His
model is therefore not only suitable for musicological studies, but also for an analysis of
the discourse about music.
63
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
sign puts brackets around the referent: it excludes reference to objects that exist in the world.
“His signified is not to be identified directly with a referent but is a concept in the mind –
not a thing but the notion of a thing.”194
Secondly, Nattiez expands his theory by using Peirce’s perception of signs: “A sign, or a
representamen, is something which stands to somebody for something in some respect or
capacity.”195 In Saussure’s dyadic model there is no room, and probably no need, for an
object, but Peirce uses a triadic model: (1) The form that the sign takes, the representamen,
which is not necessarily material. The representamen would correspond to the signifier
(signifiant) in Saussure’s terminology. (2) An interpretant, the signified (signifié) for
Saussure, which is the sense that the sign makes: the sign has an effect in an interpreter. (3)
An object to which the sign refers.196
Peirce uses the word semiosis to refer to the interaction between the triadic elements, the
representamen, the object and the interpretant. He calls the triadic relation genuine, stating
that “its three members are bound together by it in a way that does not consist in any
complexus of dyadic relations.”197 Peirce divides objects into the physical reality, which he
refers to as ‘dynamical objects,’ the denotation of the sign, and objects as the signs
themselves represent them. He refers to these as the ‘immediate objects,’ which then
constitute the aspect of a sign, which makes it appropriate for the sign to stand for its
dynamical object.198
The third basis for Nattiez relates to another important difference between Saussure and
Peirce. For Peirce, the interpretant itself is a sign in the mind of the interpreter: it creates, as
it were, an equivalent sign, which is the interpretant of the first sign. This leads to a series
of successive interpretants, potentially ad infinitum.199 The meaning of a representation is a
representation, and any initial interpretation can be re-interpreted.
[A sign] addresses somebody, that is, creates in the mind of that person an equivalent sign,
or perhaps a more developed sign. That sign which it creates I call the interpretant of the
first sign. The sign stands for something, its object. It stands for that object, not in all
respects, but in reference to a sort of idea, which I have sometimes called the ground of
the representamen.200
Despite the possible differences depending on discipline, Peirce seems to be one of the
oft-cited founders of semiology (semiotics), but, according to Nattiez, “his concepts have
been of little inspiration to musical semiologists.”201 Nattiez states, however, that Peirce’s
dynamic concept of the sign is the very basis for his own thought. Every component of his
book, he says, “is grounded in the Peircian concept of the infinite and dynamic interpretant,”
194
Daniel Chandler, Semiotics for Beginners, digital resource at http://aber.ac.uk/media/Documents/S4B, Chandler
© 1994–2010, “Signs.”
195
Charles Sanders Peirce, Collected Papers, 1955, 99 (CP 2.228).
196
John J. Fitzgerald, Peirce’s Theory of Signs as Foundation for Pragmatism, 1966, 40.
197
Peirce, Collected Papers, 1955, 100 (CP 2.274).
198
Fitzgerald, Peirce’s Theory of Signs as Foundation for Pragmatism, 1966, 43.
199
The aspect of infinity was a fact that Peirce apparently was aware of, and that Eco has referred to as ‘unlimited
semiosis’ (Chandler 1994–2010).
200
Peirce, Collected Papers, 1955, 99 (CP 2.228).
201
Nattiez, “Reflections on the Development of Semiology in Music,” 1989, 28.
64
Chapter 1 – Introduction
and he continues by asserting that every sign is part of an infinite, multi-dimensional web of
interpretants, and “a sign, or a collection of signs, to which an infinite complex of
interpretants is linked, can be called A SYMBOLIC FORM.”202
Nattiez concludes that the object of the sign is actually a virtual object that does not exist
except within and through the infinite muliplicity of interpretants, by means of which the
person using the sign seeks to allude to the object.203 If we think of the word ‘happiness’ it
will make sense directly to us, but in attempting to explain the content of it we may come up
with a series of new signs, like: ‘bliss’, ‘satisfaction’, ‘contentment’, ‘fulfillment’, and so on.
All these signs vary from person to person, according to our personal and individual
experience. From this discussion Nattiez concludes that what the sign refers to is contained
in the factual experience of the person who is using the sign. This discussion is the basis for
a general and relatively simple definition of meaning.
An object of any kind takes on meaning for an individual apprehending that object, as
soon as that individual places the object in relation to areas of his lived experience—that
is, in relation to a collection of other objects that belong to his or her experience of the
world. 204
202
Nattiez, Music and Discourse: Toward a Semiology of Music, 1990, 8. Capitals in the original.
203
Ibid., 7.
204
Ibid., 7–8.
205
Ibid., 12, 15.
65
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
the total social fact.”206 Molino sees similarities between music and other human activities,
like language and religion, and he insists that we cannot describe or define music correctly
“unless we take account of its threefold mode of existence – as an arbitrary isolated object,
as something produced and as something perceived.”207
Nattiez employs and further develops the concepts defined by Molino. With Poietic
Dimension Nattiez means “the symbolic form [that] results from a process of creation.”208
An analysis at the level of the Poietic Dimension accommodates all aspects involved in the
production of music, whether a specific piece, a genre or a tradition, from the creation to the
act of writing down and memorizing it, learning how to perform it, as well as the complete
cultural surrounding that influences the composer and the performing musician. The cultural
surroundings may well be, and often are, quite different for the composer of a piece, the
people who notate the music in a semi-oral culture or in other ways transfer it to the next
generation in oral or semi-oral traditions, and a much later performer of the piece.
The Esthesic Dimension does not necessarily coincide with the Poietic Dimension. It
refers to the processes in which receivers, when confronted by a symbolic form, “assign one
or many meanings to the form.”209 Nattiez finds it more appropriate to talk about meaning
as constructed. This level of analysis includes perception, cognition, interpretation and
socio-historical aspects of reception.
The Neutral Dimension is the trace: “the symbolic form is embodied physically and
materially in the form of a trace accessible to the five senses.”210 Analysis at the Neutral
Level, niveau neutre, concerns itself with the immanent configuration of the end result of
the Poietic Process, the music itself, whether as sound, notation, discourse on the material,
or even written or oral teaching. In the learning process the person who receives teaching
will go through both Poietic and Esthesic Processes, simultaneously or sequentially. This
holds both for literate and for oral, or semi-oral, traditions, but there may be qualitative
differences between different modes of transmission. I explore this aspect in Chapter 8.
For Molino, “the musical fact is … closely bound up with the whole body of human
facts,” 211 and Nattiez holds, with Molino, that an analyst can grasp music in all its
multifaceted totality by examining the three levels of analysis in turn:
The essence of a work is at once its genesis, its organization, and the way it is perceived.
For this reason ... [we] require a theory that deals with the practical, methodological, and
epistemological results of this holistic vision of music. I shall call this general theory
musical semiology.212
206
Jean Molino, “Musical Fact and the Semiology of Music,” 1990, 119.
The term was introduced by Marcel Mauss according to Nattiez, Music and Discourse… , 1990, 42.
207
Molino, “Musical Fact and the Semiology of Music,” 1990, 114.
208
Nattiez, Music and Discourse…, 1990, p. 12.
209
Ibid.
210
Ibid.
211
Molino, “Musical Fact and the Semiology of Music,” 1990, 115.
212
Nattiez, Music and Discourse…, 1990, ix–x.
66
Chapter 1 – Introduction
Elsewhere, Nattiez states that “... the task of semiology is to identify interpretants
according to the three poles of the tripartition, and to establish their relationship to one
another.”213 The various aspects of analysis are already in existence, but the aim is to reach
a more complete view of the object of study than what can be achieved by a one-sided
analysis:
What I am suggesting that we call poietic analysis, analysis of the neutral level, and
esthesic analysis [...] correspond to three autonomous tendencies already present in the
history of musical analysis. But the semiological project for analysis has two special
features of its own. One is its examination of how the three dimensions can be brought
together in analysis of a single piece. [...] The second is the semiological project’s
insistence upon the methodological necessity of analysing the neutral level.214
The sound, the Neutral Level or the Trace, is the primary but not the only artefact from
which Poietic Processes can be deduced, and it is the main, but not sole, cause of Esthesic
Processes, i.e., musical perception and interpretation.
encoding decoding
Nattiez, however, asserts that “semiology is not the science of communication.”215 The
idea that a composer (or a performer) ‘encodes’ a message into the immanent structure of a
piece, which then is ‘decoded’ by the receiver is an over-simplification of how art is created
and perceived. By adding a notion of a reconstruction of the trace by the receiver, Nattiez
and Molino challenged the idea of a ’code’ being present, which is mutually understood by
the sender and the receiver. They perceived semiology as an act of interpretation that builds
more on the receiver’s context than the sender’s, an act that does not necessarily have any
parts in common with the Poietic Dimension or the Neutral Dimension. To quote Molino:
[T]here is no guarantee of a direct correspondence between the effect produced by a work
of art and the intentions of its creator. Every symbolic object presupposes an exchange in
which producer and consumer, transmitter and receiver, are not interchangeable and do
not have the same point of view on the object, which they do not constitute in the same
way at all. … But the symbolic phenomenon is also an object – matter subject to form.216
213
Ibid., 29.
214
Ibid., 138.
215
Ibid., x, 15, 16.
216
Molino, “Musical Fact and the Semiology of Music,” 1990, 130.
67
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
For Molino, the crucial point is that the object should not be viewed as a vehicle for
semantic transmission, a means for communication.
Nattiez’s refusal to accept the theory of music-as-communication builds on his rejection
of the notion that music is just another type of language, a language where “compositional
intentions can be transparent to the listener, thus compelling these new structures to
complete a communication between those that cause them to be, and those who perceive
them.”217 Nattiez calls this “the communication utopia,”218 stating that the normal situation
is displacement between intentions and perceptive behaviours in human communication in
general, regardless of whether it is musical, linguistic, or in terms of some other media. The
tripartitional model can be illustrated as in Figure 3.
The Poietic Processes create marks in the trace – or rather create a ‘marked’ trace, which
is then interpreted by the receiver. In a musical performance, a musician will create a
marked trace, the performed sounds, which are interpreted by the audience. Another
performer would give a differently marked trace. In both cases the performers will have
certain intentions in their performances, but in neither case is the intention(s) of the
performer communicated to the audience. 219 There is a transition from the Poietic
Dimension to the Trace, and another transition from the Trace to the Esthesic Dimension.
There are several more ‘transitional arrows’ to be included in the actual analysis, and
Figure 3 above is further subdivided in Chapter 8 of the present study.
217
Nattiez, Music and Discourse…, 1990, 98.
218
Ibid., 99.
219
The intentions and the creative processes are not one and the same thing, but they are linked.
220
Nattiez, Music and Discourse…, 1990, 136.
68
Chapter 1 – Introduction
universals of music
style of composer X
work
The present study is an attempt to deconstruct ‘tradition’ in both its historical aspects,
and as a concept that characterizes the act of transmission. I apply Nattiez stylistic relevance
in the following way, also indicated in Figure 5 below:
Relating to Section 1.4.1 above, dealing with historical authenticity, the aim of Chapter 4
is to critically study how the komusō created an origin and invented their own tradition. In
Chapters 5–6 of this study I critically examine the twentieth-century historical writings on
the shakuhachi, and the “system (style) of reference” will refer to the shakuhachi tradition.
Instead of a ‘composer X’ I refer to a selected number of individual writers/researchers in
the twentieth century, who have been instrumental in outlining the older history of the
shakuhachi.
The transmission of the concrete musical content of the shakuhachi is normally regarded
as a semi-oral transmission of almost exclusively anonymous works. Hence, in the phase of
transmission, there is no composer, nor any ‘invented’ or imagined authority on the work
outside of the act of transmission, who can provide a key to the ‘correct’ interpretation of
the piece. Several pieces in the fundamental repertoire, honkyoku, have a known
geographical origin, which can provide some clues to the style in which the piece should be
played. The music is exclusively transmitted by skilled and well-known practitioners,221
who are the authority of the content of the pieces. The present study is not a study in
musicology, and the universals of music that Nattiez refers to are of less importance.
However, I touch upon some aesthetic aspects of the music in Chapter 8, in order to define
elements that are central in the act of transmission. These elements also relate to a system of
techniques, the techniques employed within Kinko-ryū. This system of techniques relates to
a genre, which, in accordance with Section 1.4.2 above, is one limitation of the study: the
genre of Kinko-ryū honkyoku, as performed and transmitted by one performer/transmitter,
Yamaguchi Gorō.222 In my analysis of the transmission process, I have implicitly used my
221
The practitioners are not necessarily ‘performers’ in the meaning of ‘stage performers.’ I return to this issue in
Chapter 8.
222
The “style of a genre” (Kinko-ryū) and the “style of a transmitter X” (Yamaguchi Gorō) are, on an ontological
level, not clearly separable. This does of course not mean that I say that Yamaguchi and Kinko-ryū are the same, or
that other performers could as well be inseparable from Kinko-ryū, without being Yamaguchi. This issue is further
discussed in Chapter 8.
69
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Figure 5: Nattiez’s “Pyramid of stylistic relevance” revised, as applied to the present study.
period
In the historical investigation, the physical dimension (1) covers three major pre-WWII
Japanese studies, from 1902, 1918, and 1936–39. It also covers reiterations of these studies
from the 1970s, both in Japanese and English. The elements of the corpus (3) are outlined in
Chapter 2 below.
In the study of transmission, the physical dimension (1) covers my experience of
studying a number of pieces from the repertoire, the Kinko-ryū honkyoku repertoire, which I
use in Chapter 8 to discuss certain aspects of the transmission of the music tradition. This
repertoire is connected to the middle of the Edo period, the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries. However, the physical dimension of the study as such stretches over elements of
transmission in the present. The elements of the corpus (3) that are being investigated
concern certain aspects of the immanent structures of the music, and the practices in both
performance and transmission. In the discussion about transmission, I investigate in what
ways the works can be perceived by a receiver of the tradition. The study therefore
combines the Neutral, Poietic, and Esthesic Levels.
1.6.6 Methodology
My analyses of the aspects of historical authenticity of the shakuhachi tradition are based on
influential historical studies from the first half of the twentieth century, but they also refer to
studies about the shakuhachi from the post-WWII period, especially from the 1970s on.
Almost all of these writings, both from before and after WWII, make claims of an older
history, a history prior to the Edo period, relating to monks assumed to have been involved
in Buddhist activities, and who eventually developed into the shakuhachi-playing komusō of
the Edo period. From the statements made in these writings, I investigate some of the
crucial original texts. Below I refer to primary sources as Texts (written, orally spoken,
audial, or through other media perceivable items), and secondary studies or commentaries
relating to the Texts as Writings.
223
三浦琴童, 1875–1940. (琴古流尺八本曲楽譜). Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 24.
70
Chapter 1 – Introduction
The Writings from the post-WWII period, consisting mainly of studies in Japanese but
also some books and articles in English, rely almost entirely on the pre-WWII Writings,
which are made up of material in Japanese, consisting of two articles from 1902, some
writings from 1918, and a series of articles from 1936–1939, the two latter cases published
as books in the 1970s. I introduce both primary (Texts) and secondary (Writings) sources in
Chapter 2. My analyses commences with what is said in the Writings, and attempts to infer
some aspects of the Poietic Processes as well as the effects these may have in the Esthesic
Dimension, i.e., what interpretations result from the Writings. The analyses are inclined
towards a philological study of the original Texts vis-à-vis the Writings, with focus on
possible interpretations of, and contrasting aspects between, these Neutral Level entities.
I employ the same methodological approach in Chapter 8, but here both Text and Writing
material is more varied. Firstly, through the development of lineages, schools adhering to
some specific aesthetic ideals, and the subsequent canonization of the music, a new type of
Texts appears: notation. These Texts can be analysed as constituting a means of
transmission. If a piece of music is transmitted as belonging to a ‘tradition’ – and not as
‘just another sonorous reality (piece of music)’ – some elements of the tradition have to be
inherent in these Texts as transmittable entities. The ‘traditional’ shakuhachi music is
regarded as an oral (or semi-oral) tradition. Therefore, secondly, the aspect of literacy and
orality appears at the forefront. The canonized Texts do not give the full picture of the
tradition, and non-verbal elements become an important aspect in the analysis of the
tradition and its transmission. Thus, thirdly, verbal and non-verbal instructions of ‘how-to’
become the Texts to be analyzed. A common concept within the study of traditional
Japanese arts is kata, forms that prescribe the correct execution of, for example, a piece of
music, in accordance with the tradition the piece belongs to. These prescriptive forms, kata,
as the defining character of traditional music, are analyzed from the viewpoint that the
prescriptive elements are less strongly accentuated in a performance of a piece of music,
compared to an act of transmission of the same piece. In a performance, intentions of, for
example, artistic or creative elements may arise as a way to gain appreciation from the
audience. In practical terms, the process of transmission, on the other hand, excludes any
other intentions of the transmitter than those that relate to the conveyance of a correct
understanding.224 In the analysis I also discuss kata as a structural concept. Fourthly, the
elements used in actual transmission of the music become the Texts. As Writings I use
musicological studies from the late twentieth century, socio-historical studies of the concept
of kata, and I also build my analysis both on personal experience and commentaries by
other learners in respect to the process of transmission.
224
Theoretically we can of course envisage another situation, but in normal cases the individual transmitter/teacher
is not intentionally deceptive.
71
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Chapter 2 – Sources:
225
The hitoyogiri shakuhachi (一節切尺八) was a medieval version of a five-holed flute, in shape and size closer to
the gagaku shakuhachi than the Edo period fuke shakuhachi. The hitoyogiri shakuhachi became almost obsolete
during the eighteenth century. (See Section 3.2 for a further explanation of this instrument and its appearance in
older texts).
226
箏, a thirteen-stringed instruments used in gagaku which was revolutionized in the late Momoyama period and
early Edo period by the monk Morota Kenjun (諸田賢順, 1534–1623). He composed completely new music for the
instrument, and this music was transmitted by one of his disciples, Hōsui (法水), to the blind biwa and shamisen
playing monk Yatsuhashi Kengyō (八橋検校, 1614–85), who in turn combined the koto and the shamisen to form the
chamber music of the Edo period, jiuta-sōkyoku (地歌箏曲). The character used, 箏, is not one of the standardized
Chinese characters used in the Japanese language, and sometimes the character 琴 is mistakenly used in relation to
the koto of this genre. However, the kin-koto 琴 denotes a different instrument than the sō-koto 箏. (Kikkawa, Nihon
ongaku no rekishi (1965), 1990, 152–155).
227
三味線, a three-stringed instrument that was brought to Japan from Ryūkyū (Okinawa) in the Momoyama period
by the blind biwa playing monks biwa mōsō (琵琶妄僧), and soon became the most popular instrument among
common people. (Kikkawa, Nihon ongaku no rekishi (1965), 1990, 158–159).
228
Nakamura Sōsan (中村宗三, biographic data unknown), Shichiku Shoshin-shū (糸竹初心集). The texts Ikanobori (紙
鳶), Kite, from 1687 and Shichiku Kokon-shū (糸竹古今集), A Collection of Old and New Pieces for Strings and
Bamboo, published in the Shichiku Taizen (糸竹大全), The Complete Works for Strings and Bamboo, in 1699, relates
to the hitoyogiri shakuhachi, but these are of less relevance for the present study.
72
Chapter 2 – Sources: Primary and Secondary Texts
Japanese), compiled in 1779 by Yamamoto Morihide and published 1795,229 in which the
legendary origins of the shakuhachi are outlined. The text Kyotaku denki most likely never
existed, but in Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai it is ‘quoted’ in full, and translated from its
supposed original in literary Chinese (kanbun) to eighteenth-century Japanese.230
As mentioned in Section 1.5.2 above, the sect surrounding the komusō, the Fuke-shū, has
never been given any official acknowledgement. In a document from 1677, addressed not to
the Fuke sect but to the temples and sub-temples of “the various factions of komusō”
(komusō shoha),231 the authorities stipulated certain rules for the komusō and their temples.
This document bears the heading “Memorandum” (覚), indicating that there are no definite
regulations for the sect or its monks, but merely an indirect acknowledgement of the Fuke
sect. Apart from this document, there are a number of versions of a document referred to as
the “Keichō okite-gaki.” This document is supposed to have been written in year 19 of the
Keichō era, 1614. The word okite-gaki means a law or regulation, and the document
stipulates a number of privileges supposedly bestowed upon the komusō by the first shōgun
of the Edo period, Tokugawa Ieyasu. These and other documents from the Edo period are
discussed in Chapter 4, in examining how the Fuke sect was established.
From the Edo period we also have Kinko techō (The Kinko Notebook), written by
Kurosawa Kinko III (1772–1816), the most likely founder of the Kinko-ryū shakuhachi, and
the grandson of Kurosawa Kinko I (1710–1771), a komusō who travelled the country,
gathered pieces from various temples, and later also gave his name to the oldest of the
extant shakuhachi lineages, Kinko-ryū.232
At the end of the Edo period, Hisamatsu Fūyō (1791–1871), a student of Kinko III,
became the leader of the Kinko-ryū.233 Hisamatsu wrote Hitori kotoba (A Monologue) in
1818, Hitori mondō (A Solitary Dialogue) in 1823, and Kaijō hōgo (Sermon of the Calm
Sea) in 1835. The first two texts are aimed at beginners of shakuhachi, introductory writings
pertaining to the right way of playing, a correct mind-set, and certain basics about repertoire.
The last text is an inflammatory call for the shakuhachi-playing komusō monks to stick to
the right path, especially directed to those who deviate from the Way of Kinko-ryū. They
are important texts in the study of the shakuhachi, both in its religious and its musical
aspects.234
One central figure in my analyses of the older history of the Edo period komusō is
Hayashi Razan. Apart from his 1621 commentary on the fourteenth-century Tsurezure-gusa
(Essays in Idleness) written by Yoshida Kenkō, Hayashi also wrote two historical studies of
229
Tsuge, “The History of the Kyotaku,” 1977, 47; Takahashi Kūzan, Fukeshū-shi: Sono shakuhachi sōhō to gakuri,
1997, 22. Takahashi Kūzan (高橋空山, 1900–1986) was not an academic scholar, but a shakuhachi player and
komusō practitioner, who conducted his own private research. Yamamoto Morihide (山本守秀).
230
Yamamoto Morihide, Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai (The History of the Kyotaku, Annotated in Japanese), Tokyo:
Nihon Ongaku-sha, 1981.
231
Kurihara Kōta, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 155–156. Sixteen sub-lineages are mentioned. (虚無僧諸派).
232
Kinko techō (琴古手帳).
233
Kinko III did not have a son, and his younger brother became Kinko IV (d. 1860). According to Kamisangō he
was not skillful and had a bad personality, and gave up shakuhachi of his own will. Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku
no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 106. (... 技倆未熟、人物劣等で、自ら尺八を捨てた …).
234
Hisamatsu Fūyō (久松風陽, 1791–1871); Hitori kotoba (獨言); Hitori mondō (獨問答); Kaijō hōgo (海静法語).
73
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
the shakuhachi in 1623 and 1625. These articles are included in the collected writings by
Hayashi Razan.235
There are other historical texts, both from the same period and earlier, in which
shakuhachi is mentioned, but there is no thorough historical treatise on the shakuhachi
before the twentieth century. The shakuhachi is, however, mentioned in two gagaku
treatises, the 1512 Taigen-shō and the 1522 Maikyoku-kuden, both authored by the gagaku
musician Toyohara Sumiaki.236 In the former treatise there is a whole chapter devoted to the
shakuhachi, containing important and interesting aspects that relate to my discussion in
Chapter 4 about the formation of a shakuhachi tradition in the Edo period (cf. also Sections
3.2 and 4.5.2 below).
The Taigen-shō is a treatise on the court music, implying that the shakuhachi at that time
was an instrument of the gagaku; the shakuhachi had, however, disappeared from the
gagaku ensemble during its reformation in the middle of the ninth century. In Taigen-shō it
is stated that the claim by dengaku performers, that shakuhachi is a dengaku instrument, is
not correct, but that shakuhachi is a gagaku instrument.237 Other gagaku related writings
include Kyōkun-shō, a treaty on gagaku from 1233, written by Koma Chikazane, and Zoku
Kyōkun-shō from 1322, written by Chikazane’s grandson Koma no Asakuzu. Both of these
works contain remarks about the shakuhachi.238
During the time from the tenth to the fifteenth centuries, shakuhachi also appears in a
variety of poems and songs, for example some poems by the fifteenth-century Zen Budhist
monk Ikkyū Sōjun, who wrote a number of so-called dōka, didactic poems on the Japanese
style of waka, often with a Buddhist content.239 He also wrote a collection of poems named
Kyōun-shū (Crazy Cloud Anthology), in which he refers to the shakuhachi in three, and
flutes in general in a total of nine poems. He also refers to the Zen monk Fuke (cf. Section
4.1), whose name was adopted by the sect surrounding the komusō monks. In Kyōun-shū
there are three poems relating to Fuke, two with name references and one with a reference
to a famous saying by Fuke (cf. Section 4.1). I discuss the poems by Ikkyū Sōjun further
below, in Sections 4.5.1 and 7.2.240 The shakuhachi also appears in tales and personal
writings, which I refer to in Section 3.3 below. From the sixteenth century, the late
235
Hayashi Dōshun Razan (林道春羅山, 1583–1657). Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi (The Field Hammer of Tsurezure-gusa).
Razan bunshū (Collected Writings by Hayashi Razan).
236
Taigen-shō (体源抄); Maikyoku-kuden (舞曲口伝); Toyohara Sumiaki (豊原統秋, 1450–1524). Some writers have
the reading Muneaki of the author’s first name (Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 119; Kamisangō in
Blasdel’s translation 2008, p. 77, but Kamisangō does not specify the reading. Please refer to Section 2.2 below for
an introduction to these texts). The National Diet Library and Japanese lexica have the reading Sumiaki, which I
have therefore adopted here. KOKUGO, Vol. 15, toyohara: p. 39.
The name of Taigen-shō is supposedly a pun on the author’s name, 豊原, relating to the old Chinese character for
body (tai) which is 體. The name Toyohara is then the right side (the tsukuri) of the characters for Taigen (豊原/體
源) (Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, p. 119). I would interpret this as also being a ‘hidden message’: “the
origin of the (gagaku) body.”
237
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 72.
238
Koma Chikazane (狛近真, 1177–1242), Kyōkun-shō (教訓抄); Koma no Asakuzu (狛朝葛, 1249–1333), Zoku
Kyōkun-shō (続教訓抄).
239
R. H. Blyth, Zen and Zen Classics: Volume Five, 1974, 162. (道歌).
240
Ikkyū Sōjun (一休宗純, 1394–1482), Kyōun-shū (狂雲集).
74
Chapter 2 – Sources: Primary and Secondary Texts
Muromachi period (1378–1573), we also have song texts (kouta) with remarks on the
shakuhachi, for example, Kangin-shū from 1518, and Sōan kouta-shū.241
Among texts from Buddhist temples, which carry comments relating to the older history
of the shakuhachi, we have the Tōdai-ji kenmotsu-chō of 758 and Saidai-ji shizairyūki-chō
of 780 (cf. Section 3.2), and the Hōryū-ji kokon mokuroku-shō of 1238 (cf. Section 7.2).242
One important work from the Edo period is the Kiyūshōran, written by Kitamura Nobuyo
(pen name: Intei). This work is a collection of essays, covering everyday life, customs and
manners, as well as theatre, song, dance, and other forms of entertainment. It includes
Kitamura’s personal opinions of the items covered. The book was completed in 1830.243 In
the preface, Kitamura writes that he felt regret about all the notes he had written over the
years, and that the book was a way to gather them together (he could not bring himself to
throw the notes away).244 The book consists of twelve volumes and one appendix, covering
4,000 items divided into twenty-seven fields. 245 In Volume 6 there are notes about
shakuhachi, as well as shamisen and koto.
241
Kangin-shū (閑吟集); Sōan Kouta-shū (宗安小歌集). From the Edo period we also have the whole repertoire of
song texts in the ensemble music, jiuta-sōkyoku (地歌箏曲), songs accompanied by koto and shamisen, which do not
refer to the shakuhachi. The shakuhachi, however, has been a part of the ensemble most likely at least since the late
seventeenth century.
242
Tōdai-ji Kenmotsu-chō ( 東 大 寺 献 物 帳 ); Saidai-ji Shizairyūki-chō ( 西 大 寺 資 材 流 記 帳 ); Hōryū-ji Kokon
Mokuroku-shō (法隆寺古今目録抄).
243
KOKUGO, Vol. 6, kiyūshōran: p. 100.
244
Kitamura Nobuyo, Kiyūshōran (1830), 1903, Preface, p. 4.
245
YHJ, kiyūshōran (嬉遊笑覧), by Uda Toshihiko (宇田敏彦), accessed January 24, 2011.
246
初代川瀬順輔, 1870–1959.
247
Kurihara Kōta, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), Tokyo: Chikuyūsha, 1975.
248
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 1.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Kurihara’s book is the first thorough historical study, but he was preceded by the
historian Mikami Sanji,249 who held a lecture with the title “Fuke-shū ni suite” (About the
Fuke sect) in 1902, which was published later the same year.250
One of the central documents relating to the Fuke sect, the so-called “Keichō okite-gaki”
(cf. Section 2.1 above), was supposedly written in 1614. According to this document the
monks of the Fuke sect, the komusō, had a number of special privilegies. Based on literary
style and the names of the persons who signed the document, Mikami showed that this
document most likely was a forgery. Kurihara reports further doubts about the legendary
view of the origin of the Edo-period shakuhachi tradition, and quotes a number of
inconsistenses with respect to the formation of the Fuke sect in the seventeenth century. One
of the more convincing points in Kurihara’s examination is that the “Keichō okite-gaki”
exists in a number of versions with a quite different number of provisions. The original was
supposedly destroyed in a temple fire, according to information provided to the authorities
by the komusō.
At least up to the 1920’s, the prevailing view of the shakuhachi was in accordance with
the 1795 Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai, the original Kyotaku denki annotated in Japanese, in
which it is stated that the Buddhist monk Shinchi Gakushin or
Plate 3: Nakatsuka Chikuzen.
(Photo in Gendai ongaku taikan, Muhon Kakushin, posthumously given the name Hottō Enmyō
1927, 185) Kokushi by Emperor Go-Daigo, brought the shakuhachi to
Used by courtesy of the National Japan after having concluded his studies of Chan Buddhism in
Diet Library.
China 1251–1254. 251 This tradition was supposedly
transmitted from the ninth-century Chinese Chan (Zen)
Buddhist monk Fuke,252 through sixteen generations to Hottō
Kokushi and from him to the alleged first komusō, the
fourteenth-century former general Kusunoki Masakatsu.253
In the 1930’s Nakatsuka Chikuzen (see Plate 3) began a
study of the history of the Kinko-ryū shakuhachi, and in
investigating the material he began to question the generally
believed historical background (legendary as it may be).
Nakatsuka conducted a thorough research of the historical
records pertaining to the Fuke sect and Hottō Kokushi,
building on the findings of Mikami Sanji, and especially
Kurihara Kōta. Nakatsuka’s research has become the basis for
most of the historical studies of the shakuhachi after his time.
Later academic research, for example by Kamisangō and Tsukitani (see below), often cites
both Kurihara and Nakatsuka. Nakatsuka’s research was published in the magazine
249
Together with Takatsu Kuwasaburō, Mikami Sanji compiled the first comprehensive history of Japanese
literature in 1890. Gunilla Lindberg-Wada, “Japanese Literary History Writing…,” 2006, 111. Suzuki, “Gender and
Genre…,” 2000, 74.
250
Mikami Sanji (三上参次, 1865–1939). The lecture was held at the Shigakukai (Association of History) on
February 23, 1902, and published in two installments in Shigaku zasshi (History Magazine), in April and May.
251
Shinchi Gakushin (心地学心) or Muhon Kakushin (無本覚心) (1207–1298); Hottō Enmyō Kokushi (法燈圓明國師).
252
Fuke (普化) is mentioned in the Rinzai-roku (臨剤録, a collection of sayings by Rinzai Gigen 臨済義玄 (C. Linji
Yixuan), ?−867). Compiled by Rinzai’s disciple Sanshō Enen (三聖慧然), revised by Kōke Zonshō (興化存奨),
according to Rinzai-roku, Iriya Yoshitaka, transl., 2010, 15, 217, 227.
253
Tsuge Gen’ichi, “The History of the Kyotaku,” 1977, 48.
76
Chapter 2 – Sources: Primary and Secondary Texts
Sankyoku between 1936 and 1939 in a total of 43 articles. The articles were reissued as a
book, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (A Historical View of Kinko-ryū Shakuhachi), in
1979.254
One crucial finding at which Nakatsuka arrived was that the document that connected the
komusō and their Fuke sect to Zen Buddhism, the Kyotaku denki, was a forgery. Nakatsuka
found no evidence of any connection between Hottō Kokushi and the shakuhachi
whatsoever. Among present writings about the shakuhachi, there are only a few who still
insist on that Hottō Kokushi brought the shakuhachi to Japan. One is Takahashi Kūzan, who
states that Hottō Kokushi “followed Zen master Mumon Ekai and while thoroughly learning
Zen he also received the transmission of Fuke shakuhachi from Chōsan, who was a follower
of the Fuke tradition.”255 He then also refers to the writings of Kusunoki Masakatsu, a
fourteenth-century general at the South court and a legendary shakuhachi player, to support
his statement. These aspects of the history of shakuhachi are outlined and discussed in
Chapter 4 below.
As with Kurihara, Nakatsuka was not a scholar, and he had a very hard upbringing. He
grew up abused by an alcoholic and violent father and an ignorant stepmother, and the
severe circumstances made it impossible for him to go to school.256 He learned to read and
write by his own efforts, and in 1936 he began publishing the articles. His findings are
based on the indications put forward by Mikami and Kurihara, but the musicologist
Kamisangō Yūkō (see below) claims that Nakatsuka added “a much bigger volume of
material that he cited, and in detail pointed out the inconsistent aspects [of the legendary
history].”257 Kamisangō also claims that, by 1995, there were only himself and another
famous musicologist, Tanabe Hisao, who had accepted Nakatsuka’s theories at face value in
their own writings, but that Tanabe later rescinded and embraced the legend.258
Kamisangō Yūkō, a musicologist and a renowned scholar on the shakuhachi,259 wrote a
text with the title “Suizen: Chikuho-ryū ni miru fuke shakuhachi no keifu” (Suizen: The
Genealogy of Fuke Shakuhachi Seen in Chikuho-ryū), for the liner notes of a Nihon
Columbia Record Album in 1974.260 This text was later included in the Shichiku-ron
josetsu: Nihon ongaku ronkō jisen-shū (A Preliminary Discussion on Strings and Bamboo:
The Author’s Selection of Studies on Japanese Music), a private publication from 1995. In
this publication the text bears the title “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: suizen no rikai no
tame ni” (A Brief History of Shakuhachi Music: For the Understanding of Suizen).261 The
254
Nakatsuka Chikuzen, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (A Historical View of Kinko-ryū Shakuhachi), first published
in the monthly magazine Sankyoku, in a series of articles 1936–39. Tokyo: Nihon ongaku-sha, 1979.
255
Takahashi Kūzan, Fukeshū-shi: Sono shakuhachi sōhō to gakuri, 1997, 22. Mumon Ekai 無門慧開 (C. Wumen
Huikai), 1183–1260.
256
Gendai ongaku taikan, Tokyo: Tōkyō Nichi-nichi tsūshinsha, 1927, 185.
257
Kamisangō Yūkō, “Nakatsuka Chikuzen to ‘Kinko-ryū shikan’,” 1995, 189.
258
Ibid., 189–190.
259
Professor in musicology at Tokyo Geijutsu Daigaku 1984–2002. Professor at Kurashiki Sakuyō Daigaku
2003–2005. Especially reknown for his research in shakuhachi, heike-biwa, and Miyagi Michio.
260
『吹禅−竹保流にみる普化尺八の系譜』(1974 年 11 月、日本コロンビア制作レコード・アルバムの解説書). The construct sui-zen
refers here to an alleged tradition of ‘blowing Zen,’ a notion that I further discuss in Chapter 7. Chikuho-ryū is one
lineage of shakuhachi playing that was established in 1917.
261
Kamisangō Yūkō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: Suizen no rikai no tame ni” (A Brief History of Shakuhachi
Music: For the Understanding of Suizen) Shichiku-ron josetsu: Nihon ongaku ronkō jisen-shū (Preliminary
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
text was translated and adapted for the book Shakuhachi: A Manual for Learning by
Christopher Yohmei Blasdel in 1988, with a second revised edition published in 2008. In
the English translation the text carries the neutral title “The Shakuhachi: Its History and
Development.”262
Other modern writers on the shakuhachi include Ueno Katami, who wrote the book
Shakuhachi no rekishi (A History of the Shakuhachi) in 1983. The book is a comprehensive
history of the shakuhachi, with many quotes from historical records, and it was re-published
in 2002.263 Apart from numerous private scholars, for example Kanda Kayū and Kosuge
Daitetsu of the Komusō Kenkyū-kai,264 Tsukitani Tsuneko has performed maybe the most
thorough research on the shakuhachi and its fundamental repertoire, the honkyoku. Tsukitani
was professor at Osaka Geidai until her death in 2010. One of her most prominent writings
is the Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū (A Study of Classical (koten) Fundamental
Pieces (honkyoku) for Shakuhachi) from 2000.265 Tsukitani is one of the few, Japanese or
non-Japanese, who have attempted any musical analysis of honkyoku, the (mainly) solo
repertoire for shakuhachi, handed down from the Edo period komusō.
The book Wên-hsien t'ung k'ao, incidentally, mentions another book (without giving its
title or year) where the ch'ih pa' [the Chinese reading for ‘shakuhachi’] is mentioned in
connection with Buddhist clerics. According to this source a monk played before emperor
Hsüan Song (Jap.: Gensô, reg. 712-756 AD) and presented him with an instrument.266
Discussion on Strings and Bamboo: Author’s Selection of Studies on Japanese Music), Tokyo: Private publication,
1995, 67–119.
262
By ‘neutral’ I mean in relation to the expression sui-zen. This word is commonly translated as ‘blowing Zen,’ but
it may build on a possible misinterpretation of a longer expression, sui-zen ichinyo (cf. Section 7.1.3 below).
263
Ueno Katami, Shakuhachi no rekishi (The History of Shakuhachi) (first published in 1983), Tokyo: Shuppan
Geijutsu-sha, 2002.
264
Kanda Kayū (神田可遊); Kosuge Daitetsu (小菅大徹); Komusō Kenkyū-kai (虚無僧研究会), an organisation for
people interested in the shakuhachi and komusō, located at the temple Hosshin-ji (法身寺), a sub-temple to one of the
main Fuke or komusō temples, Reihō-ji (鈴法寺), during the Edo period. Kosuge is the head-priest of Hosshin-ji.
265
Tsukitani Tsuneko (月溪恒子, 1944–2010), Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū (尺八古典本曲の研究).
266
Andreas Gutzwiller, Shakuhachi: Aspects of History, Practice and Teaching, 1974, 5.
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Chapter 2 – Sources: Primary and Secondary Texts
There are no sources or other material that would support this, and, if true, it may be an
isolated occurrence. In the very next paragraph Gutzwiller uses a frequency argument to
establish the connection between shakuhachi and Buddhism as (almost) a historical fact.
Japanese sources, though they are sometimes of doubtful credibility, frequently mention
that the instrument was used in a religious context by Buddhists. The frequency with
which the sources insist that the use of shakuhachi as a musical instrument in religious
context has its roots in Chinese practice makes it unlikely that the claim is completely
without truth.267
Another academic study on the shakuhachi is Riley Lee’s Yearning for the Bell: A Study
of Transmission in the Shakuhachi Honkyoku Tradition, a PhD thesis at the University of
Sydney, Department of Music, in 1993. In his dissertation, Lee gives a summary of the
history, closely following the twentieth-century historical research mentioned above
(Mikami, Kurihara, Nakatsuka, Kamisangō, Ueno, Tsukitani), but the main part of his thesis
is a study of the transmission of the piece “Reibo,” including a general discussion on oral
transmission, an analysis of honkyoku, as well as transcription and comparision of two main
lines of transmission of the piece. Three years before Lee, Takahashi Tone submitted his
PhD thesis in musicology at the Florida State University, with the title Tozan-ryû: an
innovation of the shakuhachi tradition from Fuke-shû to secularism. The Tozan-ryū is a
style of shakuhachi playing that developed in the Meiji period, and as a lineage or school it
was established in 1896. Takahashi’s thesis consists of some 200 pages of history, mainly
Edo period and the development of Tozan-ryū in the Modern Period. After that he
undertakes a musical analysis of Tozan-ryū, notation and scales, covering around 100 pages.
Both Lee’s and Takahashi’s theses are submitted in the field of musicology; the history
chapters they have written are background chapters, and not the main analyses. It is,
however, unfortunate that all the studies so far have been either in Japanese or submitted in
musicology. This has led to a situation in which the knowledge of the history of the
shakuhachi in the English speaking community is based on secondary writings.
There are also a few academic articles relating to the shakuhachi. First, from 1969 we
have Donald Berger’s “The Shakuhachi and Kinko Ryu Notation,” published in Asian
Music. Berger did not write a historical study, simply stating that the shakuhachi was used
by the komusō monks during the Edo period. The main purpose of the article is “to acquaint
the reader with the shakuhachi notation of the Kinko Ryū,” using the style of the late
shakuhachi master Yamaguchi Gorō (1933–99) as reference.268
James H. Sanford wrote the article “Shakuhachi Zen: The Fukeshu and Komuso” in 1977,
published in Monumenta Nipponica. Sanford follows the revisionist theory of the rise and
fall of the Fuke sect, but he uses a limited number of sources. Apart from two texts by
Nishiyama Matsunosuke,269 whose main area of study is the Edo period, and the 1902
article by Mikami Sanji, he refers to secondary literature from the twentieth century that
267
Ibid., 5–6. Gutzwiller seems to have become more inclined towards the revisionist theory in his later writings
(Edgar Pope, “A Historical Controversy,” 2000, 39–40.)
268
Donald P. Berger, “The Shakuhachi and Kinko Ryu Notation,” 1969, 32.
269
Iemoto monogatari (The Story of Iemoto), and Iemoto no kenkyū (Research of Iemoto).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
must be considered to be of less central importance in the study of the shakuhachi.270 The
primary sources quoted by him are from a Meiji-period collection of old texts, Kojirui-en,271
but he he also refers to “a traditional source, the Shakuhachishi-kō,” classifying it in a
footnote as “a late Edo period work.”272 I have not encountered any other work with a
similar name than Shakuhachi shikō by Kurihara Kōta, which was written in 1918, some
fifty years after the end of the Edo period. Regardless of the limited sources used, and what
seems to be a rather careless historical positioning of Shakuhachi shikō, Sanford’s text is
often quoted, and it does contain several interesting remarks about the lives of the komusō.
In relation to the shakuhachi as a religious implement, Max Deeg wrote “Komusō and
‘Shakuhachi-Zen’: From Historical Legitimation to the Spiritualisation of a Buddhist
Denomination in the Edo Period” in 2007, published in Japanese Religions. I refer to this
article in Chapter 6.
270
Sanford quotes Nihon no ongaku (Japanese Music) by the well-known and established musicologist Tanabe
Hisao, but this contains only 35 pages that relate to shakuhachi. Apart from this book, Sanford refers to 13 pages
from the book Nihon no dentō ongaku (Traditional Japanese Music) by Koide Kōhei, and a book by Yamashita
Yajūrō with the name Komusō: Fukeshū Reihōji no Kenkyū (Komusō: Research in the Reihōji Temple of the Fuke
Sect), which is a locally published book in the area of Tama, where Reihō-ji temple was located.
271
Kojirui-en is a collection of items, from ancient times to 1867, referring to society, cultural products, and systems
as seen in historical material and publications. The material was gathered between 1879 and 1907, and published
1895–1914. The text was edited by the Jingūshichō, an organ for administration of affairs relating to the Ise Jingū
shrine. (古事類苑). KOKUGO, Vol. 8, kojiruien: p. 180.
272
James H. Sanford, “Shakuhachi Zen. The Fukeshu and Komuso,” 1977, 415.
273
Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase (三十二番職人歌合) depicts a komosō playing shakuhachi, and Shichijūichi-ban
Shokunin uta-awase (七十一番職人歌合) depicts a boro without any reference to the shakuhachi.
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Chapter 2 – Sources: Primary and Secondary Texts
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
It seems evident that the Japanese shakuhachi has its roots in China. In Wenxian Tongkao,274
a fourteenth-century historical text from China compiled some four centuries after the fall of
the Tang dynasty in 907, there is a reference to the word shakuhachi, going back to the court
musician Lu Cai, 275 active at the court during the reign of the Tang Emperor Tang
Taizong.276 Kurihara expounds on the ‘Lu Cai theory,’ saying that Lu Cai supposedly
revived an older flute of a length that had fallen out of use. In the time of Lu Cai, there seem
to have been two prevalent types of flutes used, one long, chōteki, and one short, tanteki.277
The long flute was available in twelve lengths, to correspond to the twelve-tone scale of
Chinese music. The short flute was however only available in a limited number of lengths,
and Lu Cai supposedly revived the short flute, with its fundamental tone, the key tone,
tuned to a flute of the length of one shaku and eight (hachi) sun, thus, a shakuhachi.278
Kurihara refers to Hayashi Dōshun Razan, whose comments about these matters are
recorded in a collection of Razan’s writings, the Razan bunshū.279
Both the Wenxian Tongkao and Razan Bunshū are however of a later date, the former
written 700 years and the latter 1,000 years after the events they relate, thus calling their
historical accuracy into question, but Kamisangō quotes the Tangshu (Book of Tang), a
historical text from 945,280 as stating that, “Lu Cai made twelve types of shakuhachi. They
274
Bunken-tsukō or Bunken-tsūkō in Japanese (文献通考) consists of texts from the dynasties Tang (by the historian
Du You 杜佑, (J. Toyū) 735–812) and Song (by Zheng Qiao 鄭樵, (J. Teishō) 1104–1162), published during the Yuan
period (1279–1368) in 1322. NIPPONICA: bunkentsūkō. Shōgakukan Nihon kokugo daijiten has the publication
year 1319. KOKUGO, Vol. 17, bunkentsūkō: p. 559.
275
Rosai in Japanese, active at the Tang court in the middle of the seventh century. (呂才).
276
Taisō in Japanese (唐太宗, 627–649). The Chinese name of this era is Zhen Guan (貞觀).
277
chōteki (長笛); tanteki (短笛).
278
From around the Heian period kane-jaku (曲尺) became the prevailing length measure. The measures used were
shaku, sun, bu, rin (尺寸分厘), where each measure is a tenth of the previous. In 1891 (Meiji 24), kane-jaku (曲尺)
was made the official length measure, defined as as one third of a meter. It continued to be so until 1955 (Shōwa 33).
(DAIJIRIN, shaku: p. 1111). See also Section 1.1 above.
279
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 22, quotes Hayashi Dōshun Razan. See also Section 4.5.3.
280
Tōjo in Japanese (唐書). NIPPONICA: tōjo, accessed on March 24, 2011.
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Chapter 3 – The Shakuhachi: Instrument and Implement
all differed in length, tuned to the twelve-tone scale.”281 The Tangshu decreases the time lag
by four centuries, but it is still three hundred years after the actual event.
If this is true then Lu Cai may have revived a flute that is mentioned in remarks about a
Han dynasty commentator, Ma Rong.282 We cannot tell whether there was a ‘shakuhachi’ in
use 500 years before Lu Cai. The fact that there did exist a variety of lengths may indicate
that the short flute, the tanteki mentioned above, received the name shakuhachi, based on its
keynote. The flute would then be tuned in various lengths, in different pitches. In the
writings on music from the historical texts of the tenth-century Liao dynasty, the Liao-shi
compiled in 1344,283 a comment is also made about “long flutes, short flutes and shakuhachi
flutes,” thus indicating that there existed a ‘shakuhachi’ apart from the long and short flutes
respectively.284 In the gagaku treatise Kyōkun-shō from 1233 there is a remark about the
‘long flute,’ relating this to the above-mentioned Ma Rong: “The long flute was from the
beginning played by Ba Yū [Ma Rong], and he called it chōteki.”285 There are other theories
as to when ‘shakuhachi’ first appeared in China, but the ‘Lu Cai theory’ seems to be the
most commonly accepted.
In the following sections I give a short introduction to the construction of shakuhachi
(3.1), various types of shakuhachi in Japan (3.2), and some early remarks in historical texts
that I include here for reference (3.3). Some of the early appearances, often quoted in lexica
and secondary writings on the shakuhachi, are discussed in detail in Chapters 4–7.
• the use of the root end of the bamboo (probably an Edo period development);
• five fingerholes compared to the Heian period shakuhachi’s six holes (probably a development that took place
some time from the Kamakura to Muromachi periods);
• an outwardly cut mouthpiece (maybe also from the Kamakura or Muromachi periods);
• a total of seven nodes (probably middle or late Edo period), compared to the previous types typically with one
(hitoyogiri shakuhachi) or three (gagaku shakuhachi) nodes.
281
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 69. This ‘Lu Cai theory’ is also referred to in Ueno,
Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 46ff.
282
Ba Yū in Japanese. (馬融, 79-166 CE).
283
, (J. Ryō) 907–1125. 遼史楽志, Ryōshi-gakushi in Japanese.
284
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 16.
285
Koma Chikazane, Kyōkun-shō (1233), 1973, 156. (抑長笛、馬融善ノ吹者為〔ナヅク〕長笛。).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
***
286
In Shichiku Shoshin-shū it is, however, stated that the right hand should be the lower, and the left the upper.
Nakamura Sōsan, Shichiku shoshin-shū (1664), 1976, 5. Hisamatsu Fūyō in essence asserts the same in the second
statement of his 1818 Hitori kotoba (A Monologue): “[The shakuhachi] should be held firmly with the thumb and
middle finger of the right hand, but this does not mean that it should be held very strongly.” (右の大指と中指二本はし
っかりと持つべし、是とてもつよく持つにはあらず). http://www.bmbnt.com/shaku8/bamboo81.htm. Hisamatsu is also
quoted in Andreas Gutzwiller, Die Shakuhachi der Kinko-Schule, 1983, 169. Gutzwiller has 右の大指を中指二本は, but
I assume this to be a typing error. There are, however, no practical reasons for the left/right orientation, at least not
in modern shakuhachi. For long flutes, 2 shaku 3 sun and above, the fingerholes will normally be opened towards
the side of the flute, rather than on the ‘top,’ which leads to a left/right orientation. The holes can however easily be
reoriented from one side to the other.
287
The nodes should not be confused with the division of the shakuhachi in two halves by a mid-joint. The joint is
artificially created by cutting the bamboo piece in two. Today, the price of a shakuhachi with more or less than
seven nodes may be considerably lower than for a shakuhachi of equal quality and the conventional seven nodes.
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Chapter 3 – The Shakuhachi: Instrument and Implement
In modern shakuhachi the inside has a layer of a strong and hard cement, called tonoko
(砥の粉) in Japanese, made from powder of whetstone. This hard compound makes it easier
to create a smooth inner surface, which is important to tune the instrument and to give it an
even balance, both in pitch and timbre. The tonoko cement is a grounding that also changes
the timbre, and it is referred to as ji when talking about instruments with or without the
grounding applied: a shakuhachi with grounding cement is referred to as a ji-ari (地有), in
contrast to ji-nashi (地無) shakuhachi, i.e., instruments without the grounding cement. The
ji-nashi shakuhachi has a softer and more natural sound, and instruments with a thick layer
of grounding cement may sound more like a Western flute. Today there is a renaissance of
the ‘pure’ shakuhachi, but it is almost impossible to create a well-tuned ji-nashi shakuhachi.
Most instruments today are ji-ari. The inner surface, regardless of whether there is a layer of
grounding cement or not, is normally covered by a thin layer of lacquer to protect the
bamboo from saliva and outer humidity, which would soften the bamboo and also increase
the risk of mould. The lacquer not only has a protective function, but also makes it easier to
fine-tune the instrument. The use of grounding cement on the inside became increasingly
more common together with the practice of ensemble playing, where the tuning of the
instrument is crucial, and it also helps to create a sound with stronger volume that fits better
in the concert halls that have become the typical venue for concerts since the Modern
Period.
Even though the name states a length of 1 shaku 8 sun, the shakuhachi is available in
various lengths, from 1 shaku 3 sun up to 3 shaku or longer, each with a different pitch and
timbre. The pitch changes half a step with each sun, up to approximately 2 shaku 2 sun, but
the actual length may vary also depending on the thickness of the bore and other aspects.288
288
Regarding the making of the shakuhachi, I have consulted a recorded conversation with the shakuhachi maker
Nomura Godō in 1986, and a personal communication with the American shakuhachi maker Monty Levenson, on
September 19, 2011. Please refer to Monty Levenson’s site for further information about the relation between pitch
and length: http://www.shakuhachi.com/Y-ShakuhachiPitchChart.html.
289
The instruments belonged to Tsukitani Tsuneko (1944–2010), and the photos were taken by Natalie Schneider at
a shakuhachi festival in Bisei, Japan, August 27, 2007.
290
As an instrument there have been developments since the seventeenth century, but these aspects are beyond the
scope of the present study. There is a general outline of the construction of modern shakuhachi in Section 3.1 above.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
291
In connection with the Tang dynasty musician Lu Cai (J. Rosai) mentioned above.
292
According to Moriya Yukinori, the president of Hōgaku no Tomo, Tanteki hiden-fu ( 短笛秘伝譜 , Secretly
Transmitted Scores for Tanteki) from 1608 is attributed to Ōmori Sōkun (大森宗勲, 1570–1625). (Hōgaku no Tomo
Mail Magazine No 40, August 30, 2002). Riley Lee also mentions that the word hitoyogiri is not used in Tanteki
hiden-fu regardless of the fact that “the instruments being discussed are clearly made with a single node.” (Lee,
Yearning for the Bell …, 1993, 92).
293
Toyohara Sumiaki, Taigen-shō, 1512, Vol. 5: Chapter “Shakuhachi”. (律書楽図ニ云ク是ヲ短笛トス). I have not
been able to obtain any bibliographical data on the text referred to, the Ritsusho gakuzu, but Kurihara quotes
Ritsusho gakuzu as saying that, “shakuhachi is a tanteki, held vertically when played.” Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō
(1918), 1975, 15. (尺八為短笛縦向吹者也).
294
Koma Chikazane, Kyōkun-shō (1233), 1973, 156. (短笛ハ尺八云。律書楽図云、是以為短笛。). Also in Kurihara,
Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 15.
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Chapter 3 – The Shakuhachi: Instrument and Implement
the ninth century, but originally the shakuhachi was used in the court music imported from
the kingdoms on the Korean peninsula and the Tang dynasty China in the Asuka (593–710)
and Nara (710–784) periods. From the middle of the ninth century, the shakuhachi
disappeared from the reformed court music, gagaku, which incorporated both Chinese
music (tōgaku) and Korean music (komagaku).295
Below I give an introduction to the four types of instruments mentioned above that are
related to the present day shakuhachi, and their position in history.
295
The court music is known as gagaku, refined music (雅楽), but gagaku was a result of a reformation of the music
forms that had been imported from the continent: tōgaku, music from Tang (唐楽), and komagaku, music from Korea
(高麗楽) which was also known as sankangaku, music from the three Korean kingdoms (三韓楽). The term komagaku
implies music from the kingdom Koguryŏ, known as Koma in Japanese, but later komagaku became a generic term
for music from the Korean kingdoms.
296
雅楽尺八.
297
Shōsō-in (正倉院) was probably erected in 756, or at the latest in 759, a few years after the completion and
opening ceremony of the Tōdai-ji Dai-butsu in 752, as a repository for art treasures. It was administered by the court
until 1875, when the government took control. It is now managed by the Imperial Household Agency. NIPPONICA:
shōsōin, April 7, 2011.
298
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 70.
299
Shōtoku Taishi (聖徳太子) was the regent of Empress Suiko (推古天皇, 554–628), and considered to be the real
founder and patron of Buddhism in Japan, after its introduction by the Soga clan in the late sixth century. Shōtoku
Taishi is also the supposed author of seventeen moral injunctions regarded as the first Japanese constitution. George
B. Sansom, Japan: A Short Cultural History (1931), 1985, 69–71.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
valuable items, and maybe something that her late husband, Emperor Shōmu, had held
dear.300 Of the eight shakuhachi kept at Shōsō-in, five are mentioned in the eighth-century
Tōdai-ji Kenmotsu-chō (Directory of Offerings to Tōdai-ji),301 and four of these can be
traced to a king of the Paekche dynasty on the Korean peninsula. 302 In the Tōdai-ji
Kenmotsu-chō it is stated that there were “one jade shakuhachi, one shakuhachi [sic!], one
birch-wrapped shakuhachi and one carved shakuhachi, which had been presented by the
King Giji of Paekche to the Naidaijin.”303 At the time the Naidaijin was the de facto head of
state after the emperor, 304 and the shakuhachi must have been a cordial gift from one nation
to another, thus showing the importance put on musical instruments at the time, and the
relation between Paekche and the Japanese court during the Asuka and Nara periods (7th–8th
centuries). Apart from these four instruments there is also one carved shakuhachi in stone,
presented from Koguryŏ,305 which makes it plausible that music was imported not only from
Paekche, but also from other parts of the Korean peninsula.
The remaining three shakuhachi at Shōsō-in are made of bamboo. As mentioned above,
the ones that are made of stone or jade are all carved to resemble bamboo, and they all have
three nodes. They have five fingerholes on the front and one on the back, but they are
slightly different in length. This may imply that already at this time there were shakuhachi
of different lengths, and the name, one shaku and hachi (eight) sun was not, as it may seem,
the determinating factor for the type of instrument. More likely, it was the keynote for the
short flute developed by Lu Cai. The lengths of the Shōsō-in shakuhachi were measured by
the Court Music Division within the Court Ceremonial Office of the Imperial Household
Department.306 Nakatsuka refers to this measurement, and a summary of the findings:
300
Around 600 of the more than 10,000 items in Shōsō-in belonged to Emperor Shōmu (聖武天皇, 701–756), and
they were dedicated to the Buddha at Tōdai-ji by his widow Empress Kōmyō (光明皇后, 701–760). Varley, Japanese
Culture: A Short History, 1973, 26. Sansom, Japan: A Short Cultural History (1931), 1985, 159.
301
東大寺獻物帳.
302
Paekche (百済, J. Kudara) was defeated in 663 CE by Silla (新羅, J. Shiragi), supported by the Tang dynasty
China. Sansom dates the defeat to between 660 and 670. Sansom, Japan: A Short Cultural History (1931), 1985, 35.
303
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, p. 42. Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 70.
Giji-ō (義慈王 599–660, K. Uija-wang) was the 31st and last king of Paekche (Kudara), who reigned from 641–660.
304
The Nai-daijin was a high-ranking position within the ritsuryō system, above the sa- and u-daijin introduced by
Emperor Kōtoku (孝徳, 596–654) in the Asuka period as 内臣 (uchitsu omi), which was changed to 内大臣
(nai-daijin) by Emperor Tenshi (626–671) who reigned 668-71. Emperor Kōnin (光仁, 709–782) in the latter half of
the Nara period lowered the position to below sa- and u-daijin, which was a position that was kept during the Heian
period. (KOGO, naidaijin: p. 966).
305
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, p. 42. Kōkuri in Japanese (高句麗 also 高麗) Goguryeo or Koguryŏ in
Korean. Also defeated by the Silla and Tang in 668. Not to be confused with the Goryeo or Koryŏ (高麗) Dynasty
(918–1392), which is short for Goguryeo and thus also known as the later Goguryeo.
306
宮内省式部職雅楽部.
307
From Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 23–25. The pitch is given with the Japanese
♯ ♭ ♯ ♭
tone names: shōsetsu = F, fushō = G /A , rankei = A /H (B) , and ōshiki = A. YHJ, jūniritsu, by Hashimoto Yōko
(橋本曜子), November 6, 2011, and http://www.kochyo.co.jp/onritsu/12.html. The measure shaku differed in actual
length (see Section 1.1 above). Here 1 shaku = 30.3 cm.
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Chapter 3 – The Shakuhachi: Instrument and Implement
The main impulse for the development of ceremonial court music seems to have come
mainly from Korea, including indirect influences from Sui and Tang dynasties China. In the
Saidai-ji Shizairyū-kichō (Saidai-ji Catalogue of Treasures) from 780,308 the final volume
“Instruments and Cloths, Item 6” lists one set of “Great Tang instruments,” a spotted
shakuhachi, and eight shakuhachi counted as “Tang instruments.”309 This list, dating from
some 24 years after the Tōdai-ji list, explicitly includes Tang instruments.
In an officicial decree issued by the State Council, Daijōkan-fu,310 the number of officials
and performers of gagaku was decided in the Gakuryō Gakushi no Jō.311 In the notification
of 809 (the fourth year of the Daidō era under Emperor Saga) it is stated that of the twelve
performers of tōgaku there should be one shakuhachi performer.312 In a later directive from
the first year of Kashō, 848, the number of officials and students is reduced; for the
shakuhachi this meant that there should be two students, compared to the previous three.313
Not only was the number of shakuhachi students decreased, but the total number of utamai
no tsukasa was decreased from 254 to a total of 100. During the eighth century the number
of tōgaku musicians increased relative to the number of komagaku and wagaku (indigenous
music) performers.314
According to Kamisangō the reformation of the imported music in the middle of the ninth
century gradually shifted to fit the Japanese taste and the circumstances at the court, and
that the court music ensemble decreased in size. Shakuhachi was among the imported
instruments that disappeared, and, as Kamisangō states, “we can assume that the main
reason for this was that the shakuhachi overlapped with the ryūteki [vertical flute], and with
a ryūteki [in the ensemble] there was no need for a shakuhachi.”315
Historical records indicate that the shakuhachi was used at the court up to the fifteenth
century (cf. Section 3.3 below). There is, however, no conclusive evidence of that the
instrument used in Japan after the Heian period, or even after the middle of the ninth
century when it disappeared from the court music ensemble, was a gagaku shakuhachi; it
could have been any type of flute. There are no remarks or illustrations of shakuhachi until
the gagaku treatise Taigen-shō of 1512, in which we encounter a hitoyogiri shakuhachi with
five fingerholes and one node, as discussed below (see Plate 8).
308
西大寺資材流記帳.
309
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 47–48.
310
太政官符.
311
太政官符: 楽寮楽師の定. (Officials: gakuryō or uta no tsukasa/utamai no tsukasa; performers: gakushi).
312
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 70.
313
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 51.
314
Kikkawa, Nihon ongaku no rekishi (1965), 1990, 55; Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 50–51.
315
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 70.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
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Chapter 3 – The Shakuhachi: Instrument and Implement
flute with a possible interaction with other indigenous flutes, it has very little influence on
the development of the shakuhachi. I don’t find that the tenpuku – as an instrument or as a
tradition – has any decisive relevance to the present study.
used in any text relating to the musical tradition as such, but Used by courtesy of The National
Diet Library.
it may have been alluded to in some poems by the
329
fifteenth-century Rinzai Zen monk Ikkyū Sōjun. The
reference is, however, not evident, and there are no other
early remarks about a hitoyogiri.
The later hitoyogiri is mentioned in Momoyama- and
Edo-period texts, and the first time that the shakuhachi and
the hitoyogiri are clearly designated as instruments of similar
types but of different origins is in the 1664 Shichiku
shoshin-shū by Nakamura Sōsan. Nakamura uses the
expression “shakuhachi of hitoyogiri type” (hitoyogiri no
shakuhachi). 330 He writes that the hitoyogiri shakuhachi
should be 1 shaku 8 bu in length, whereas the komusō
shakuhachi should be 1 shaku 8 sun.331 Nakamura was a
325
一節切尺八.
326
With the Japanese names for pitches they are in hyōjō (E4), sōjō (G4), ōshiki (A4), and banshiki (B4)
327
The pitch of a standard length shakuhachi is ichikotsu (D4).
328
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 73.
329
一休宗純, 1394–1481. Cf. Section 7.2 below.
330
Nakamura Sōsan, Shichiku shoshin-shū (1664), 1976, 2.
331
One shaku is approximately one foot (33 cm.), one sun is a tenth of a shaku, and one bu is one tenth of a sun.
One shaku eight bu would then be approximately 35–36 centimeters.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
musician, and the tuning was important for him. He continues by stating that “since the
thickness of the bamboo gives different tunings, rather than settling the length, [the basic
tone] should be tuned in [the pitch] ōshiki [A4].”332 I wish to stress the point that Nakamura
is making here, because he also refers to the komusō as not playing in tune. This aspect is
developed in the discussion about a supposed predecessor to the Edo period komusō, the
so-called komosō, upon which I expound in Chapter 6.
Nakamura also names the founder of the hitoyogiri shakuhachi tradition as Sōsa Rōjin
(Rōjin should be regarded as a honorific suffix to the name, “Sōsa, the old man”), and his
own teacher Ōmori Sōkun, the fifth generation after Sōsa, and originally a retainer of Oda
Nobunaga. After the death of Nobunaga, “[Sōkun] drifted, trying to escape from the
shadows, pitied by the mist, sorrowed by the dew, and then finally found the wondrous
sound of the shakuhachi, which tradition he transmitted to us.” The komusō shakuhachi, on
the other hand, was, according to Sōsan, transmitted from “the founder of this Way, Hōtō of
Yura, ... and from old times used in the houses of Buddhist monks.”333
Plate 9: A hitoyogiri belonging to the temple Hosshin-ji. Photo by the author at Hosshin-ji on June 4, 2009.
332
Nakamura, Shichiku shoshin-shū (1664), 1976, 4.
333
Ibid. (It is read Hōtō in the reprint I have used, but the name is pronounced Hottō in many other texts. 法燈国師).
334
虚無僧尺八/普化尺八.
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Chapter 3 – The Shakuhachi: Instrument and Implement
Many of the Japanese scholars divide the development of the shakuhachi in historical
periods, stating that the six-holed, three-noded gagaku shakuhachi was the instrument of the
eighth to the twelfth centuries. Furthermore, it is often asserted that during the Medieval
Period there was an intermediate type of shakuhachi, about which we know very little; a
chūsei shakuhachi. This, or several other unknown types of shakuhachi, was a step in the
development into five-holed instruments with one or three nodes, further developing into
the hitoyogiri and the fuke shakuhachi, the latter being the origin of the present day
shakuhachi. It would be difficult to pinpoint any exact development from gagaku
shakuhachi to later types. Kamisangō states that it would not be adequate to assert that the
tenpuku, hitoyogiri, and fuke shakuhachi already developed as three different types from the
beginning when the five-holed shakuhachi first appeared some time during the Medieval
Period, but rather that these types developed later through different circumstances from a
common five-holed shakuhachi origin.335
Plate 10: Komosō playing shakuhachi.
The tenpuku mentioned above is hardly treated at all in Detail from the Sanjūni-ban Shokunin
the historical research in Japan. Kamisangō mentions uta-awase Kōsetsu-bon (cf. Chapter 6).
tenpuku as “an instrument used by countryside samurai in Used by courtesy of the Suntory
Museum of Art.
the Satsuma area around the close of the Medieval
Period,”336 but there are not enough historical records to
substantiate this, or any influence on the shakuhachi
tradition. The shakuhachi is mentioned in texts from the
Heian (794–1185) and Kamakura (1185–1333) periods,
and the hitoyogiri may have been used at the time of Ikkyū,
but there are no records that give conclusive evidence of
what type of shakuhachi was used, e.g., number of holes
and nodes, length, and so forth, until the early
sixteenth-century Taigen-shō, where we encounter what
appears to be a one-noded five-holed shakuhachi. 337
Therefore, to talk about a ‘medieval shakuhachi’ is at least
problematic, unless it is used solely as a logical construct in
order to clarify a probable course of development, as seems to be the case with Kamisangō,
even though he opens up a “wide definition” of the term hitoyogiri to accomodate for some
poems written by Ikkyū, as mentioned above. I discuss these poems in Section 7.2 below.
One distinctive feature that differs between the pre-Edo-period shakuhachi, and the fuke
shakuhachi of the Edo period, is that older types of shakuhachi, including gagaku
shakuhachi, tenpuku and hitoyogiri (shakuhachi) were cut from above the root, above
ground, whereas the fuke shakuhachi is a root-end flute. To craft a root-end instrument the
bamboo root has to be dug out when harvesting the bamboo. This involves a lot more work
on behalf of the harvester, and thus the root must have been of central interest to the maker
of the flute. There are a few observations about ruffians using the shakuhachi, either as a
weapon or to make fun of the komusō, reported in Kurihara, Nakatsuka, and Kamisangō, as
well as by the authors of more popular writings, e.g., Ueno and Takeda.
335
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 72.
336
Ibid., 68.
337
Toyohara Sumiaki, Taigen-shō, 1512, Vol. 5: “Shakuhachi.”
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
A long time ago, there was a kyōkaku called Karigane Bunshichi, who lived in Nanba.
By nature he was a virtuoso on the shakuhachi, and since he was loved by people his
kyōkaku followers all learned to play. Later he left playing [the shakuhachi], but found it
useful for quarrels, and so he made it one shaku eight sun long, used many nodes [of the
bamboo], cut the bamboo at its root and used it instead of a sword. In that way, the name
tanteki [short flute] and hitoyogiri were lost. … His one shakuhachi eight sun [long]
fighting shakuhachi is not a musical instrument, but now it has become the implement of
Buddhist monks, who even have their [own] main temple. … 346
338
菊岡沾凉 著 「本朝世事談綺」
339
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 180. (根竹を依っ以て製することは侠客のこれを以て争闘の用に供したるより
始まるといふ).
340
DAIJIRIN, p. 628; ninkyō, p. 1858. YHJ, kyōkaku (侠客), by Inagaki Shisei (稲垣史生, 1912–1996), March 18,
2011. (侠客; 任侠, 仁侠).
341
義侠, 遊侠.
342
旗本奴.
343
A samurai was allowed to cut down an offensive or rude townsman. (辻斬り).
344
YHJ, kyōkaku, hatamoto-yakko, machi-yakko (侠客・旗本奴・町奴), Inagaki Shisei (稲垣史生), March 1, 2011.
345
Saitō Hikomaro, Katabisashi. http://www.wul.waseda.ac.jp/kotenseki/html/i05/i05_00674/index.html. Accessed
March 15, 2011. Vol. 1, “Shakuhachi.”
346
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 185–186. (むかし難波に雁が音【雁金とも】文七といひし侠客あり、自然と尺
八の妙手にて世にめでられしゆゑに、手下の侠客ども悉く學べり、後々は吹くことはさし置きて、いさかひの為の便利にせんとて
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Chapter 3 – The Shakuhachi: Instrument and Implement
Karigane Bunshichi was executed in 1703, at the age 28. 347 If we are to believe
Katabisashi, the root-end shakuhachi was not in common use until around the late
seventeenth century, probably after Nakamura’s Shichiku shoshin-shū. Nakamura does,
however, comment about the length of the komusō shakuhachi, stating that it is one shaku
eight sun, whereas the hitoyogiri shakuhachi should be one shaku eight bu.348 Karigane
must have been born in 1675, which is then eleven years after Nakamura’s text. There are
other stories about rogues who played shakuhachi, and it is of course a possibility that the
story about Karigane became popular and that he therefore was bestowed with the honour of
having ‘created’ the fuke or komusō shakuhachi. The point is that the hitoyogiri and fuke
shakuhachi were not clearly perceived as different until the latter half of the seventeenth
century. One of the earliest records of a komusō, preceding Shichiku shoshin-shū by about
fifty years, is a story about a certain Ōtori Itsubei, who was executed in 1612.349 Itsubei is
said not to have belonged to the social class system of samurai, farmers, craftspeople, and
merchants, i.e., he was more or less an outcast. He met a komusō at a drinking place, and
they got into a fight. Itsubei is then said to have played the shakuhachi with his buttocks.
Kiyūshōran also states that this is probably the first time a kyōkaku (referred to as
otokodate) is known to have played shakuhachi.350
In the nineteenth-century essay Kanden Kōhitsu by Ban Plate 11: A komosō playing
shakuhachi in Kanden Kōhitsu.
Kōkei there is an illustration of a so-called komosō (Plate
Used by courtesy of the National
11).351 The komosō appeared before there were any komusō, Diet Library.
and the possible link between them is further discussed in
Chapter 6. The nineteenth-century instrument in Plate 11
looks like the root-end type, compared to the shakuhachi
played by the komosō in the scroll painting Sanjūni-ban
Shokunin uta-awase from 1494 (see Plate 10 above, and
Plates 19 and 20 in Chapter 6), or the shakuhachi that is next
to the biwa hōshi in the scroll painting Shichijūichi-ban
Shokunin uta-awase from 1500 (see Plate 16 in Section 5.1).
Both of these latter flutes look more straight, and appear to be
lacking the root-end. Furthermore, the flute next to the biwa
hōshi it also looks distictively shorter, more of a hitoyogiri
than a fuke shakuhachi. Considering, however, the way the
komosō in the older illustrations (Plate 10 above, and Plates 19 and 20 in Chapter 6) is
holding his flute, it is quite evident that the illustrator has no personal experience of playing
一尺八寸にして節をあまたにして、竹の根ぎはを切りて一刀のかはりとす、かくては短笛の名も一節切の名義も失へり … 彼の一尺
八寸の喧嘩道具の尺八は、楽器にあらず今は僧徒の器となりて本山さへできたり云々).
In Saitō Hikomaro, Katabisashi (1853), and in the quote in Kurihara, Karigane is written as 雁が音, but in
Kamisangō and in the transcript in Kurihara of Karigane’s imprisonment and execution the characters 雁金 are used.
347
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 85; Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975,
187–188.
348
Nakamura, Shichiku shoshin-shū (1664), 1976, 4.
349
This story is related in Kitamura’s Kiyūshōran (1830), as well as in Kurihara and Kamisangō. In the former the
name is written 大鳥一兵衛, but Kamisangō has 大鳥逸兵衛. Kurihara remarks that both ways of writing are used.
Kitamura, Kiyūshōran (1830), 1906, 42; Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 180; Kamisangō,
“Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 85.
350
Kitamura, Kiyūshōran (1830), 1906, 42.
351
閑田耕筆 by Ban Kōkei (伴蒿蹊) 1733–1806.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
the shakuhachi: the hands are far too high up on the flute. In Kanden Kōhitsu, which is more
recent, the position of the hands looks more natural. The size and shape of the instruments
in these drawings do not necessarily correlate to what the instrument actually looked like.
The komosō who appears in Kanden Kōhitsu looks similar to the komosō in Sanjūni-ban
Shokunin uta-awase, and the poem in Kanden Kōhitsu is the same as one of the poems in
the Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase scroll painting. What we may deduce from these
illustrations is that the flute either had undergone a change, or, more likely, that the
illustrator in the Kanden Kōhitsu was more familiar with the shape and holding of the
shakuhachi.
352
This is used also in modern Japanese. See also Chapter 6.
353
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 16. I have attempted to locate this in the original text without any
success, both in hardcopy and through Internet sources. (風土記). If this reference is true, it implies that the word
shakuhachi was not necessarily written with the semantically correct 尺八. This could be an indication of that the
word ‘shakuhachi’ was known, but not necessarily with the commonly accepted Chinese characters. At this time,
words were sometimes written using the phonetic value of the characters, disregarding their semantic meaning.
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Chapter 3 – The Shakuhachi: Instrument and Implement
together with a number of young noblemen were engaged in music and dance, and the
sound of “the ō-hichiriki and the sakuhachi” (sic!) was overwhelming.354 Even though this
is the only remark about the shakuhachi in Genji Monogatari, the fact that it is mentioned
demonstrates that the shakuhachi was practiced by noble members of the court. The
shakuhachi is also mentioned as an instrument played at the New Year’s banquet in 1158, at
the time of Emperor Go-Shirakawa. This is found in the Taigen-shō, with reference to the
Imakagami (Mirror of Today), from 1170, where one reads that “[a] flute, called shakuhachi,
that has long been forgotten, was played ... at this occassion; it was well received and
indeed a rare experience.”355 Both Taigen-shō (1512) and Imakagami also state that the
shakuhachi had not been heard for a long time, and this is the last conclusive appearance of
shakuhachi used in gagaku.356
That the shakuhachi was still used at the court around the end of the Heian period
(794–1180) seems doubtless. In a treatise on the transverse flute ryūteki, the Ryūmei-shō
from 1133, and other later writings, e.g., Zoku Kyōkun-shō (a 1322 treaty on gagaku) and
Taigen-shō, Sadayasu Shinnō, son of Emperor Seiwa (reigned 858–876), is said to have
revived the gagaku piece “Ōshōkun.” Toyohara in Taigen-shō even has it that he
“transmitted it to a transverse flute from shakuhachi,”357 whereas Ryūmei-shō, as quoted by
Kurihara, only states that “he sought it out from shakuhachi notation.”358
In the scroll painting Shinzei nyūdō kogaku-zu
(exact date of creation is unknown), there is a Plate 12: Shinzei nyūdō kogaku-zu. Kneeling
shakuhachi performer in gagaku outfit.
shakuhachi among the gagaku instruments, and the Used by courtesy of the Tokyo University of the
shakuhachi performer wears a period-typical gagaku Arts.
costume. Shinzei Nyūdō Kogaku-zu is the complete
name of the scroll painting, and Shinzei Nyūdō is the
Buddhist name of Fujiwara Michinori who
supposedly collected drawings of musical intruments
and musical practices of the time. 359 There are no
surviving originals of this scroll painting. There are a
total of five copies from the Muromachi to the Edo
periods. One of these, from 1449, belongs to the
Tokyo University of the Arts (shakuhachi performer
in Plate 12, and Somakusha in Plate 26, Chapter 7).
Yoshino Shūi, Gleanings of Yoshino, a compilation
of events at the Imperial court published in 1358,
354
Murasaki Shikibu, “Suetsumu Hana” in Genji Monogatari, Iwanami Shoten, 1973, 253.
355
http://www.j-texts.com/chusei/rek/imatoku3.html (p. 142); To find a remark about the shakuhachi at the court is
of interest; the author wrote about events at a time when the court was at danger, and the Imakagami is mainly
concerned with reflecting on the fact that life at the court was what it always had been, rather than to describe
political and social change. In YHJ, imakagami (今鏡), by Takehana Isao (竹鼻績), March 8, 2011. Also in Kurihara,
Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 56, and Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 71.
356
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 71.
357
Toyohara, Taigen-shō, 1512, “Shakuhachi” (尺八ヨリ横笛ニウツサレタリ).
358
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 53. (たづね出されたりけり). (貞保親王, 870−924).
359
信西入道古楽図. 藤原通憲 (1106? –1160).
97
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
contains a remark that the son of Emperor Go-Daigo, prince Kanenaga Shinnō, was an
accomplished shakuhachi player,360 and the Yamashina no Noritoki kyō nikki, Diary of Lord
Yamashina no Noritoki, has an entry dated March 24, 1408. In this entry it is reported that
Emperor Go-Komatsu listened to a performance of sōga, accompanied by shakuhachi.361
Concluding remarks
We can conclude that up to the tenth century, at least at the court, the shakuhachi was used,
but in the middle of the twelfth century the practice of playing the shakuhachi was not
common at the court. Even though the shakuhachi is mentioned in early sixteenth-century
gagaku-related writings (Taigen-shō), the aim there does not seem to be an attempt to
position the shakuhachi in the gagaku of the time, but rather give credibility to the Toyohara
gagaku family by relating to the legend of the prince Shōtoku Taishi and other noblepersons
playing the shakuhachi (cf. Section 4.5.2). The use of the shakuhachi at the court seems to
have diminished during the twelfth century, after having been an instrument heard by
nobility for some 400 years, which of course does not exclude the possibility that it was still
used for amusement or other private purposes.
360
Some scholars hold Yoshino Shūi for fiction, and that the author primarily attempted to give a sense of cultivation
in the Southern Court, influenced by Yoshida Kenkō, the author of Tsurezure-gusa, which is discussed in Chapters 4,
5, and 7 below. Publication year and author’s name are uncertain, but supposedly written by Matsuō (松翁), who
may have been one of Kenkō’s disciples, Mei Shōmaru (命松丸). YHJ, yoshino shūi (吉野拾遺), Kinoshita Motoichi
(木下資一), May 14, 2010.
361
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 72. (山科教言卿日記). The type of music called sōga
(早歌, also sōka or hayauta) was popular among the warrior class from the thirteenth to the middle of the sixteenth
centuries, and there are several collections of songs from the fourteenth century. YHJ, sōga, by Tonomura Natsuko
(外村南都子, 1935–),March 25, 2011.
362
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 32. Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...”
(1974), 1995, 71. (慈覚大師円仁, 794–864). Jikaku Daishi is the posthumous name for Ennin.
363
honkyoku( 本 曲 ), ‘fundamental’ pieces; contrasted to gaikyoku ( 外 曲 ), ‘outer’ pieces, or rankyoku ( 乱 曲 ),
‘disorderly’ pieces.
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Chapter 3 – The Shakuhachi: Instrument and Implement
be played by laymen.364 As implied by the very use of the word rankyoku, disorderly pieces,
denoting wordly music, the shakuhachi was played in ensemble with the widely popular
string instruments shamisen and koto; a practice of ensemble playing had already begun,
regardless of the official prohibition. The shakuhachi during the Edo period is the main
topic of Chapter 4. In the beginning of the Meiji period (1868–1912), at a time of strong
anti-Buddhist movements, the Fuke sect was abolished in 1871. Since the Meiji period the
shakuhachi occupied a more fixed position within the chamber music in ensembles with the
string instruments koto and shamisen, and the new music that saw the light of day in this
and subsequent eras. The previously officially acknowledged komusō had to make a living
by playing with string instruments in order to survive, since their privileges as mendicant
monks, takuhatsu-sō, 365 diappeared with the sect. There are no other remarks about
shakuhachi and Buddhism, apart from those discussed in Chapters 4 to 6.
364
The prohibition for laymen to play shakuhachi developed when the Fuke sect, or rather the monks of the sect,
were acknowledged by the central authorities in 1677. These aspects are further discussed in Chapter 4.
365
托鉢僧
366
Christopher Yohmei Blasdel, The Shakuhachi - a manual for learning, 2008, 130.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Western transverse flute was constructed.367 At this time also seven-holed and nine-holed
shakuhachi were developed, to better accommodate the instrument to Western music. By
adding more holes, it was possible to achieve an even tone colour for half tones, which is
not easily done on a shakuhachi with five holes.368 The seven- and nine-holed shakuhachi
are still used today by some performers, whereas the ōkurauro became extinct. Monty
Levenson, an American shakuhachi builder, created a new type of ōkurauro, which he calls
a shakulute.369
367
Ibid., 10–11.
368
Ibid. The five-holed shakuhachi requires half-holing to create pitches between the open-hole tones. This also
changes the tone colour (timbre), which does not agree with Western art music, at least not as it was conceived in
the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
369
http://www.shakuhachi.com/ (“SHAKULUTE”)
100
Chapter 3 – The Shakuhachi: Instrument and Implement
101
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
During the Edo period (1603–1867) the monks of a specific Buddhist sect – the komusō of
the Fuke order – became officially acknowledged practitioners of the shakuhachi as a
religious implement. The name of the sect alludes to the Tang dynasty Zen (Chan) Buddhist
monk Fuke,370 who lived at the same time and in the same city as Rinzai (d. 866), the
founder of Rinzai Zen Buddhism.371 Legend has it that the fuke shakuhachi (cf. Section
3.2.4) is related to the monk Fuke through a sixteen-generation transmission in China, after
which it was brought to Japan in the middle of the thirteenth century by a Japanese monk
who had studied in China. The name of the monks belonging to this Edo period sect –
komusō or Monks of Emptiness and Nothingness372 – appear for the first time in official
writings in 1677, and the earliest known use of the characters is from 1598. The monks had
affiliations to Rinzai Zen Buddhism by and through the legendary connection to the monk
Fuke.
There are still practitioners of shakuhachi who prefer to believe in the legend of the Fuke
sect, but, however beautiful it may be, the studies conducted in the first half of the twentieth
century by Mikami Sanji, Kurihara Kōta, and Nakatsuka Chikuzen strongly indicate that the
legend is a construction fabricated by the komusō in the Edo period. The findings by
Nakatsuka, and the revision of the tradition that he propagated, were given further impetus
in the latter half of the twentieth century through the writing of Kamisangō Yūkō and the
adaptation and translation of his text into English by Christopher Yohmei Blasdel. Section
4.1 is an outline of the legend as it is described in the document referred to as “Kyotaku
denki,” published in the 1795 book Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai. Section 4.2 is a discussion of
documents that precede the “Kyotaku denki” that were instrumental in the komusōs’
invention of tradition. The discussion is based on the research conducted in the first half of
the twentieth century by Mikami, Kurihara, and Nakatsuka. Section 4.3 contains an
370
Fuke, ?–860 (普化, C. Puhua). (BKJ, p. 442). Fuke is mentioned in the Rinzai-roku (臨剤録, a collection of sayings
by Rinzai Gigen (see below). Since the Chinese reading is not used in relation to the shakuhachi, I use the Japanese
reading here.
371
Rinzai Gigen, d. 866 (臨済義玄, C. Linji Yixuan). Since Rinzai Zen is more widely known as a Japanese
denomination, I use the Japanese reading here.
372
虚無僧.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
examination of the shakuhachi’s position in the Edo-period society, based on present studies
of shakuhachi and the research conducted by Nishiyama Matsunosuke. In Section 4.4, a
way of viewing an invented tradition as proposed by Maki Isaka Morinaga is introduced. I
apply her theory of ‘dynamic hearsay’ to the komusōs’ invention of a shakuhachi ‘tradition.’
Finally, in Section 4.5, I discuss an alternative interpretation to the revisionist view of the
construction of an origin, as explicated in the early twentieth-century studies mentioned
above.
4.1 The Legendary Origin of the komusō and the Fuke Sect
The text referred to as “Kyotaku denki” appears in the first and second volumes of three in
Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai (The History of the Kyotaku, Annotated in Japanese), published in
1795. The original text in literary Chinese (kanbun) is attributed to a person called Tonwō,
active around 1624–1643.373
The editor Yamamoto Morihide also wrote the explanations and comments to the text in
contemporary Japanese. The only extant “Kyotaku denki” is the one published in the
Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai, where it appears in two almost identical versions.374
Most of the twentieth-century secondary literature holds “Kyotaku denki” for a fraud, a
text that was created for a certain purpose. Already Kurihara doubted its authenticity. He
argued that it is not clear were the text originated from, that the narratives seem to be more
myth than fact, and that the text gives a feeling of reading a legend in the form of a novel.
Kurihara admonishes against believing that the text is a true account of the background to
the shakuhachi of the komusō monks. He does, however, also conclude that the text explains
the origin of the komusō characteristics, and that it is useful in the research of the earlier
shakuhachi history.375 The most thorough research on the origins of the komusō is probably
that conducted by Nakatsuka Chikuzen in a series of articles under the name Kinko-ryū
shakuhachi shikan. Nakatsuka reiterates what Kurihara already had concluded, describing
the text as, “a kind of history of the Fuke sect,” but regarding its content he writes that, “it is
a text that belongs to the class of dramatized novels, and nothing more than that.”376 One of
the twentieth century’s most prolific scholars on the Edo period culture, Nishiyama
Matsunosuke, also refers to Nakatsuka when he states that Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai is an
apocryphal book.377
373
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 108. According to Kurihara and Nakatsuka, Tonwō was a Zen
Buddhist monk, but no further biographical data seems to be known. (遁翁). The first character is mainly used in
personal names, but the meaning is ‘escape,’ ot ‘get away with’ (nigeru; nogareru), and the second character is used
as an honorific for an old man (okina). If we disbelieve the “Kyotaku denki” it is of course possible to interpret this
as a pun: the old man who gets away with it.
374
Tsuge, “The History of the Kyotaku,” 1977, 48.
375
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 108–109. (阿野家伝来の一巻たることは事実なるべしと雖、他に傍證なく其の
出所も明かならず、加ふるに叙事往々神話に似て、恰も稗史小説を読むの感あり、其の軽々に信ずべからざるや言を俟たず).
376
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 129, 131. (一種の普化宗史である・只一篇の戯曲小説の類に
過ぎないものだと断定する).
377
Nishiyama Matsunosuke, Iemoto no kenkyū (1959), 1982, 524.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Nakatsuka questioned the absence of references to the text during the 150 years that
passed from its supposed completion in the Kan’ei era (1624–43), to the publication of the
text in Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai in 1795. He asserts that the fact that even the author of
Shichiku shoshin-shū, Nakamura Sōsan, who was “an extremely zealous researcher,” did not
know the legend in detail indicates that the text did not exist before 1664, the year when
Shichiku shoshin-shū was published.378 Nakamura writes that the origins of what he calls
komusō shakuhachi “are unknown for certain.”379 The comments by Nakamura are central
in the discussion of chronology surrounding both the establishment of the Fuke sect, and the
contents of this tradition, i.e., the original pieces for shakuhachi as explained in the
“Kyotaku denki.” I return to Nakatsuka’s and Nakamura’s writings below.
378
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 129. (非常に熱心な研究家である).
379
Nakamura, Shichiku shoshin-shū (1664), 1976, 4. (濫觴はたしかに不知).
380
The following is a summary of the content of the “Kyotaku denki” in Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai of 1795, based on
the 1977 translation by Tsuge Gen’ichi. I have consulted Shakuhachi shikō of 1918 (1975) by Kurihara Kōta,
Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan of 1936–39 (1979) by Nakatsuka Chikuzen, and the historical survey written by
Kamisangō Yūkō in 1974 (1995). I have also consulted the original text: Yamamoto Morihide, Kyotaku denki
kokuji-kai (1795), 1981. For reasons of simplicity I use the Japanese reading of words and names.
381
These words are discussed in the following section.
382
C. Chang Po (張伯).
383
Tsuge tranlates kyotaku as ‘false bell’ (Tsuge, “The History of the Kyotaku,” 1977, 49), but I assume that he is
using ‘false’ in the meaning ‘not really a bell.’ I prefer to use ‘empty bell,’ which refers to the Buddhist notion of
‘emptiness’ as well as to the hollow bore of the flute. The word ‘false’ has ambiguous connotations (虚鐸).
384
C. Chang San (張参).
385
C. Hu-kuo-ssu (護国寺).
386
Shinchi Gakushin or Muhon Kakushin, posthumously given the name Hottō Enmyō Kokushi by Emperor
Go-Daigo, studied Zen (Chan) Buddhism in China 1251–1254. Shinchi Gakushin (心地学心) or Muhon Kakushin (無
本覚心) (1207–1298); Hottō Enmyō Kokushi (法燈圓明國師).
387
四居士.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
After his return to Japan, Gakushin continued his Buddhist studies, initially at Kōya-san
and later he founded his own temple called Saihō-ji in the province of Kishū.388 He was
given the title “Great Master of Zen” (dai-zenji), and had many students. Among them,
there were the four devoted men, and one especially earnest student named Kichiku.389
Gakushin taught the shikoji and Kichiku how to play the kyotaku, but his hope was that
Kichiku would carry on the tradition. Kichiku was so thrilled by the flute that he asked his
teacher permission to play the kyotaku in the streets and at people’s doors. Gakushin found
this to be an excellent idea, and Kichiku went off. One time, when Kichiku was meditating
at the shrine of Kokūzō-dō on the top of the mountain Asamagatake, 390 he had two
revelations in a dream. First, he was alone on the sea when he heard a sound. Everything
became dim and dark, and through the fog he could hear the desolate and sonorous tones of
a flute. The sound ended, and the fog grew thicker and thicker, gathering to a dense mass
from which the sound was heard again. After Kichiku woke up from his dream, he imitated
the sounds he had heard on his flute. He returned to his master Gakushin, and on his kyotaku
he played the sounds he had heard. Gakushin responded that the sounds Kichiku had heard
were a sign from Buddha. Gakushin gave the first strain of sounds the name “Mukaiji”
(Flute over the Foggy Sea), and the second he named “Kokūji” (Flute in the Empty Sky).391
Kichiku kept on playing the three pieces he now had mastered and changed his name to
Kyochiku, literally Empty Bamboo.392 The name of the first, original piece was the same as
the flute, kyotaku, but people mistook the character for taku (meaning ‘bell’) for another
character for ‘bell,’ namely rei, and the piece kyotaku changed into “Kyorei.”393 At the time
of Tonwō people had forgotten about the original meaning, and played different pieces with
different techniques, and the initial intentions of Chō Haku had vanished.
After Kichiku the tradition lived on for another five generations, when it was handed
over to a monk who had taken the name Kyomu, actually Kusunoki Masakatsu, a famous
fourteenth-century general.394 After the fall of the Southern Court, for which Masakatsu had
been fighting, Masakatsu met Kyofū, the fourth generation transmitter of the kyotaku
tradition in Japan after Kichiku. After that Masakatsu became the monk Kyomu, but he did
not shave his head or wear the clothes of a monk. Kyomu also made a basket hat that
covered his face, and he called it a tengai. The idea was to be in seclusion even when
walking among other people. When people inquired about who he was, he would respond,
“I am the monk (sō) Kyomu,” and therefore the name kyomusō was used for the monks
following the kyotaku tradition. After Kyomu, the kyotaku tradition was handed down for
ten generations, to the alleged author of the Kyotaku denki, Tonwō.395
388
Saihō-ji (西方寺) later changed name to Kōkoku-ji (興国寺). The province Kishū (紀州) is present day Wakayama
Prefecture.
389
Kichiku 奇竹, and the four devoted men were Kokusaku (国作), Risei (理正), Hōfu (法普), and Sōjo (宗恕).
390
虚空蔵堂/朝熊嶽
391
霧海箎/虚空箎.
392
虚竹.
393
The word kyotaku is written 虚鐸, and kyorei 虚鈴. Another way of writing kyorei is 虚霊, meaning ‘empty soul.’
394
Kusunoki Masakatsu (楠木正勝) was a general fighting for the South Court during the fourteenth century
Nanboku-chō Period of the South and North Courts. Masakatsu was and still is a famous hero, who disappeared
mysteriously after being defeated in a battle in 1399. I regard it as highly likely that it was these aspects that made
him a suitable person for the legend.
395
The word kyomu is written the same way as komu, i.e., 虚無. Interestingly enough, the reading of the characters is
explicitly Kyomu and kyomusō in the original text. Yamamoto, Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai (1795), 1981, 69, 111.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Fuke-zenji (in Chinese, P'u Hua Ch'an Shih) was a Zen Buddhist priest of great learning
in the T’ang dynasty. ❮2❯ He lived in Chen Province and was pleased with his
uninhibited Zen spirit.398
This paragraph has a slightly different rendering in Volume I, which begins: “Tonwō
says that Fuke-zenji was a man of T’ang China, and that he was the thirty-eighth successive
master who assumed the position and passed on the doctrine of Sakyamuni.”399 This is of
course quite a remarkable statement, about Fuke being a direct successor of Siddhārtha
Gautama. The following paragraph describes Fuke’s activities, which became the most
central doctrine for the Edo period komusō.
Ringing a taku, he would go to town and say to passers-by: Myōtōrai myōtōda, antōrai
antōda, Shihō hachimenrai (ya), senpūda, Kokūrai (ya), rengada. ❮3❯ “If attacked in the
light, I will strike back in the light. If attacked in the dark, I will strike in the dark. If
attacked from all quarters, I will strike as a whirlwind does. If attacked from the empty
sky, I will thrash with a flail.”400
Footnote ❮3❯ in Tsuge’s translation above relates a comment added by Yamamoto, which
reads: “These words of Fuke-Zenji were the most important honsoku [basic principle] of the
Kyomusō [komusō]. If we translate them into Japanese, their significance will be
diminished. However, what they mean may be tentatively interpretated and clarified.” This
saying, myōtō-rai myōtō-da …, of Fuke is related in the Rinzai-roku, Episode seven in the
Chapter “Kanben,”401 where the following story is told.
396
Tsuge, “The History of the Kyotaku,” 1977, 48.
397
In “Kyotaku denki” Fuke is referred to as a Zenji, i.e., a Zen master, but Fuke never had that title. This is a
construction after the event, most likely in order to give him and his followers, the komusō, a higher status.
398
Tsuge, “The History of the Kyotaku,” 1977, 49. In the quotes I use italics for words in Japanese or Chinese that
are underlined in Tsuge’s translation. I have also changed the straight quotation marks (' and '') to typographical
ones (‘ and “ ”). Parentheses and brackets are as in the original: Square brackets [ ] contain comments by
Yamamoto added by Tsuge in the translation, and parentheses ( ) contain Tsuge’s comments. Where Tsuge has
footnote numbers inserted I have included them within ❮❯ angle brackets that are not in the original text.
399
Yamamoto, Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai (1795), 1981, 13. Tsuge, “The History of the Kyotaku,” 1977, 53 (footnote
❮2❯).
400
Tsuge, “The History of the Kyotaku,” 1977, 49.
401
The word kanben refers to the practice between Zen monks to use kōan in order to try each others depth of
insight. (勘弁・勘辨). Iriya, ann., Rinzai-roku (1989), 2010, 150 (footnote 1).
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
Fuke was always [walking] the streets ringing a bell and chanting, “If it comes from the
light I will deal with it in the light, if it comes from the dark I will deal with it in the dark.
If it comes from all sides I will respond to it as a whirlwind, and if it comes from
emptiness I will clear it away with a series of blows.” The master [Rinzai] had an
attendant go to Fuke to catch him saying this, and then ask Fuke: “Well, what would you
do if it didn’t come from any of these?” Then Fuke thrusted [the attendant] away from
him, saying: “Tomorrow there is a gathering a Daihi-in, and then I will put your mind at
ease.” The attendant went back and reported, whereupon the master said: “From before I
have thought of this man as something special.”402
402
Ibid., 157–158. The translation is from Iriya’s modern Japanese rendering, which I include here. (普化はいつも街頭
で鈴を鳴らしてこう唱っていた、「それが明で来れば明で始末し、暗で来れば暗で始末する。四方八方から来れば旋風【つむじか
ぜ】のように応じ、虚空から来れば釣瓶打ちで片付ける」と。師は侍者をやって、普化がこう言っているところをつかまえて言わ
せた、「そのどれもなく来ればどうする。」普化はかれを突き放して言った、「明日は大悲院でお斎【とき】にありつけるんだ。」
侍者が帰って報告すると、師は言った「わしは以前からあの男は只者ではないと思っていた。」).
403
明頭来、明頭打、暗頭来、暗頭打、四方八面来、旋風打、虚空来、連架打.
404
Yamamoto, Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai (1795), 1981, 69. Also quoted in Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975,
121–122, and Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 126. Nakatsuka renders this in the
following way: 明かなる場合ならば明かに、暗き所ならば闇まぎれに我法は明暗に拘らぬぞという意.
405
Yamamoto, Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai (1795), 1981, 72. Also quoted in Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975,
122, and Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 126. Nakatsuka renders the last part in the
following way: 此打つという杖は殊の外貴き杖なり此語が即ち人を諭す杖にて万人の眼を覚す呼声なり, which is an almost
literal rendering of the original text, except for 眼 (eye) used by Nakatsuka where Yamamoto has ねぶり (sleep).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Kyorei (“false bell”), a musical piece, was originally named Kyotaku (“false bell”),
because it imitated the sound of a taku (to in Chinese, a hand-bell with a clapper).
Consequently the instrument [the bamboo flute on which the piece was played] was
called a “false bell,” and so was the piece.
Since the taku and the rei (ling in Chinese) are similar, in later ages people mistook the
latter for the former and coined the name kyorei (“false bell”).
Then is it not a great mistake to assume that, just because the instrument is usually called
shakuhachi, “kyorei” is nothing but the name of a piece? ❮1❯406
The author regrets that the instrument itself – or the implement as it were – has lost its
original name, and become ‘shakuhachi.’ The instrument kyotaku changed reading to kyorei,
and then that became just the name of a piece, losing its connection to the tradition. The
piece “Kyorei” – or “Kyotaku” – must, however, have been the classical piece, but what the
author conservatively seems to lament is that the tradition has diversed: the instrument and
its tune was no longer one and the same thing. One paragraph explains the naming of the
two pieces that Kichiku re-created from his meditative dream. Kichiku had hurried back to
his master, played the two tunes, and asked him to give the pieces a name.
The master said, “That must be a gift from the Buddha! What you heard first shall be
called Mukaiji (“Flute in the Foggy Sea”), and what you heard next shall be named
Kokūji (“Flute in the Empty Sky”).407
In the last paragraph, Tonwō again refers to pieces played on the shakuhachi, eight
generations after the alleged first komusō, Kusunoki Masakatsu.
By that time, the name kyotaku had been forgotten. Only the name “Kyorei,” as the title
of a musical piece, was known. In both China and Japan the flute has commonly been
called shakuhachi. ❮30❯ Nobody knows who gave it that name. Chirai taught the tradition
to the present writer [Tonwō], who handed it down to Mufū. However, Mufū later studied
the flute with other teachers and played in innumerable styles. ❮31❯408
If we assume that the author of the text was active in the Kan’ei era (1624–43), the
generation after Tonwō would be almost contemporary with the above-mentioned
Nakamura, who wrote Shichiku shoshin-shū in 1664. Nakamura makes some comments
about the komusō monks’ playing, and the pieces they played.
406
Yamamoto, Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai (1795), 1981, 13, 65–67. Tsuge, “The History of the Kyotaku,” 1977, 49
and footnote 1 on page 53. Tsuge translates kyotaku as ‘false bell,’ but it can also be translated as ‘empty bell’ (cf.
Section 4.1.1 above).
407
Tsuge, “The History of the Kyotaku,” 1977, 51.
408
Ibid., 53.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
I have heard that [komusō shakuhachi] was used in houses here and there from old
times.409 I have heard that people called Bonji, Kanji, Iro-oshi, Shira-bonji, etc.,410 were
the practitioners of this shakuhachi. In recent times, there are these outcasts komusō, and
they began playing [a piece] called Goro, and apart from that there are a variety of pieces,
like Renbo-nagashi, Kyō Renbo, Samuyai-gawa, Yoshida, etc. None of them sound as if
they were played in tune with the standard tones. However, since they are not part of our
Way, I do not know any details.411
If Mufū broke off from the tradition, it would have been extinct by the time of the
publication of Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai, in which there are no further comments about any
other lineages or transmitters of the tradition. The question thus arises: who continued the
tradition after Tonwō, if Mufū was not following the orthodox line? Who were the
transmitters to the time of Yamamoto Morihide? Supposedly the komusō, but the “Kyotaku
denki” does not indicate any ‘true’ line of transmission. If we believe “Kyotaku denki” to be
a true account of the history of the shakuhachi tradition, the fact that Mufū is said to have
been playing with other teachers indicates a division of the tradition at an early stage in the
Edo period. Furthermore, it is hard to believe that the zealous researcher and hitoyogiri
shakuhachi practitioner Nakamura, commenting on what he has heard about the komusō,
should be ignorant about the central pieces of the komusō tradition, or its detailed and
written history. Nakatsuka says:
If we believe Shichiku shoshin-shū, around this time, i.e., the time of the Kanbun era
[1661–72], the komusō were still not [commonly] known as komusō to the world, the two
pieces Mukaiji and Kokū did not exist, the Kyotaku denki did not exist, there were also
no particular evidences of Hottō Kokushi, and so on, and there were only [these]
extremely insubstantial komusō just playing some small pieces like “Goro” and
“Renbo-nagashi.”412
409
In the 1908 publication in Shin-Gunshoruijū No. 6: Kakyoku it says hōbō, meaning ‘here and there,’ but in the
text given in Nakatsuka (Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 129), and Tsukitani (Shakuhachi koten
honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 12) it reads boro-boro.
410
These words refer to boro-boro monks, a type of monks mentioned in Yoshida Kenkō’s Tsurezure-gusa, written
around 1330, often regarded as predecessors to the Edo period komusō. See also Section 4.5 and Chapter 5 below.
411
Nakamura, Shichiku shoshin-shū (1664), 1976, 4. Nakamura is using the word koto when talking about “Goro,”
but then te when referring to the pieces “Renbo-nagashi,” etc. The word koto normally refers to ‘things,’ and here I
believe it could refer to both a technique and a piece. The word te means ‘hand.’ In the world of older music (even
today) te denotes techniques, as well as shorter sections that are added to an already existing piece (ire-te). In some
cases it can also denote an added section in a piece, then referred to as te-zuke. However, it is normally not used to
denote a whole and complete piece, but it seems likely that Nakamura is using the word with this very denotation.
(昔よりほうぼうの家に用いる物と聞えたり、梵士漢士色おししら梵士などいひしもの、此尺八の執行者と聞えたり、近き比不人【ふ
にん?】といふこむ僧有て、ごろといふ事を吹出し、その外れんぼながし、京れんぼ、さむ也井川、よし田などいふさまざまの手
有之、いづれも律呂の調子にあはせたる物とは聞えず、されども我道にあらざれば、其深き事をしらず).
412
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 130. Nakatsuka is using the word te here, just as
Nakamura did in the above quote. Here I have translated te as “pieces,” because there are pieces with the name
“Koro Sugagaki” and “Reibo-nagashi” in the extant repertoire of pieces for the shakuhachi from the Edo period,
which probably are present day versions of these older pieces referred to here. I believe that “Goro” and
“Renbo-nagashi” were some kind of at least rudimentary pieces. (ソコで糸竹初心集を信ずれば当寺即ち此寛文の頃はまだ、
虚無僧は所謂天下の虚無僧となって居らず、霧海箎、虚空二曲も存在せず、虚鐸伝記も存在せず、法燈国師云々も別段証拠がある
訳でもなく、僅に「ごろ」とか「れんぼながし」とかいう「手」を吹いて居ったに過ぎない、極く貧弱な虚無僧であったのみであ
るという事になる。).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Apart from these critical words, Nakatsuka also doubts the authenticity of “Kyotaku
denki” for the following reasons: (1) There are no remarks about dates or years in the text.
(2) The biographical data of Tonwō are unclear. (3) There are no clear bibliographical data,
no remarks about sources. (4) It is not clear where the original text had been during its 150
years of absence, and no records about where it re-appeared. It is only stated that it belonged
to the Ano family. (5) Kusunoki Masakatsu was not the originator of the komusō.413 If
Kusunoki Masakatsu had been the first komusō or komosō, the use of the braided hat that
fully covers the face (tengai) and other peripherals typical for the komusō or komosō should
have appeared in contemporary literature or paintings, but no such material is to be found at
this time. 414 Furthermore, there are no remarks in China about the tradition, sixteen
generations in length, from Chō Haku to Chō San. If Hottō Kokushi had brought shakuhachi
with him, and let his disciples play it in the streets, it would have been mentioned
somewhere. But there is no such material to be found. Kamisangō summarizes Nakatsuka’s
findings in a few lines:
The annals of the main komusō temple in Kyoto, Myōan-ji, were most likely forged at a
later date. It was not until the Edo period that Myōan-ji became a temple, and before that it
had been a lodge for monks to stay overnight (maybe for komosō or early komusō).
Myōan-ji did not become a sub-temple to Kōkoku-ji until after that, i.e., in the Edo period,
and the connection with Kōkoku-ji was invented by the monks at Myōan-ji. When
Nakatsuka began investigating the records at the supposed main temple of Myōan-ji, i.e.,
the Kōkoku-ji temple that was established by Gakushin (Hottō Kokushi), he also found
writings pertaining to Gakushin, and additionally the diaries of Gakushin. Nowhere among
this material were there any records about Gakushin having brought shakuhachi to Japan, or
anything even near any kind of connections to shakuhachi. There were no records about any
disciple with the name Kichiku or Kyochiku, and no mention about the four devoted men
who supposedly came to Japan together with Gakushin.415
One paragraph in “Kyotaku denki,” which relates to the students around Gakushin, reads:
Among his numerous students, there was one called Kichiku. The more earnest he
became in his devotion to Zen Buddhism, the more ardent was his admiration for his
master. Gakushin also took a more kindly interest in him than in other students. One day
Gakushin told Kichiku: “When I was [studying] in the country of Sung, I was instructed
in the kyotaku and I perform on it well even today. I would like to initiate you in this
flute in the hope that, as my successor, you will pass this art on to posterity.” Kichiku,
dancing for joy and expressing his gratitude, received instruction in this music and
attained proficiency in the instrument. He took delight in playing it everyday untiringly.
There were four more students—Kokusaku, Risei, Hōfu and Sōjo—who also learned this
flute well. They were known to the world under the [collective] title Shikoji (“Four
Devoted Men”).416
Nakatsuka studied a journal of Gakushin’s activities, written down from word of mouth
by one of his disciples, Kakuyū, in 1280, when Gakushin was seventy-four years old. The
413
Ibid., 130–131.
414
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 89. See Section 4.2.2.2 for a discussion of tengai.
415
Ibid., 90–91.
416
Tsuge, “The History of the Kyotaku,” 1977, 50–51.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
book, of which Nakatsuka quotes the essential sections, was published in 1933, based on an
edited version from 1517.417 Nakatsuka comments his findings in the following way.
Where does it say something about the sixteenth generation after Chō Haku, and where
does it say something about any opportunity of studying shakuhachi? … There is not
even one word giving any explanation on the shakuhachi.418
There is no remark by Gakushin about the four devoted men, who supposedly followed
Gakushin from China to Japan, and Nakatsuka concludes that the reference to them in
“Kyotaku denki” is not based on any facts. Furthermore, the student Kichiku (or Kyochiku)
was given special attention by Gakushin according to “Kyotaku denki,” but he is not
mentioned in the record of Gakushin’s activities. Such a special person, to whom Gakushin
taught the kyotaku tradition, would require “a full page of attention in the records of
activities,”419 according to Nakatsuka, but there is no remark about such a person, or the two
pieces Kyochiku supposedly re-created from his vision.
As mentioned both in Chapter 1 and Chapter 2, the findings of Nakatsuka are generally
accepted by many scholars, but, according to Kamisangō, he was the only one who had
accepted Nakatsuka’s findings face-value as late as in the 1990s. I assume that many
practitioners of shakuhachi, especially those who are mostly interested in the religious
connotations of the shakuhachi, prefer to believe the legend, and that is of course a choice
one can make. There are, however, further pieces of evidence showing that the komusō
forged documents in order to consolidate their position in the Edo period society, prior to
the publication of the legend. The “Kyotaku denki” should be viewed as part of the komusōs’
scheme to support and hopefully consolidate an already invented tradition.
417
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 245. (覚勇).
418
Ibid., 248.
419
Ibid., 249.
420
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 155–156. A total of sixteen sub-lineages are mentioned. (虚無僧諸派).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
the first time the bakufu [central authorities] submitted an official notification to the komusō
temples, with the significance that the bakufu acknowledged the Fuke sect as a
denomination.” In the notification, there is, however, no mention of ‘Fuke-shū’ in any
respect. Regarding the sect, Tsukitani concludes that “the temples began using ‘Fuke-shū’
or ‘Fuke Zen-shū’ to label themselves.”421
In the English language literature on the shakuhachi, the memorandum of 1677 is
referred to either as an ‘edict,’ or an ‘ordinance.’ Even if the oboe-gaki of the Early Modern
Period should be regarded as important historical documents, they were not foremost
regulatory, but rather explanatory of agreements made.422 In Nakatsuka the text is quoted as
an oboe-gaki, but he also uses the word hatto, which translates as ‘ordinance.’ In the Edo
period, the central authorities controlled the country firmly, and disobedience towards
anything that could be regarded as a rule may have resulted in the loss of one’s head.
Therefore, in reality, even a memorandum issued by the authorities would have had the
same or a similar effect as a law text. I will, however, refer to this text from the authorities
to the komusō temples in 1677 as a memorandum.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
Even if the Fuke sect as such is not mentioned, the issuing authority seems to have been
aware of the existence of a ‘religious body,’ which they hence attempted to control. It shows
that the authorities accepted the monks, most likely as a fait accompli. After the unification
of Japan, beginning with the battle at Sekigahara in 1600, and ending with the siege of
Osaka castle in 1615, where the last resistance from the descendants of Toyotomi Hideyoshi
was defeated, the number of masterless samurai, rōnin, increased rapidly. Based on the
research conducted by Nakatsuka Chikuzen, Kamisangō Yūkō asserts that already since the
end of the civil wars, around the 1570’s to 1580’s, more and more rōnin had become
shakuhachi-playing komosō. These rōnin became a danger for the central authorities, and
the counter-measure was to intensify the control over them.428
A Christian rebellion at Shimabara in 1637, supported by a number of rōnin, was
forcefully put down, and ended with a bloodbath. This rebellion was one important factor in
the national isolation that was implemented a few years later, but it also revealed the risk
that the existence of masses of rōnin constituted. Even more precarious for the authorities
was the Keian Incident in 1651 (year 4 of the Keian era). Yui Shōsetsu, a teacher of military
science, plotted to overthrow the Tokugawa regime. The conspiracy was disclosed and Yui
committed suicide. In a note, however, he explained that his aim had not been a coup d’état,
“he had only wanted to focus attention on the plight of the rōnin.”429 Kamisangō Yūkō
expounds on this by saying that the rōnin who had began to appear as komosō were
threatened by the crackdown: “it came to the point that they formed a group, and advocated
their own existence as a religious sect.”430
In the light of these incidents, the memorandum of 1677 may be viewed as a way for the
authorities to accept and acknowledge one established group of rōnin in order to keep
control over them.
428
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 93. According to G. B. Sansom, Nobunaga had
defeated some powerful enemies in 1573, but he continued to fight other rivals and several militant Buddhist sects
(Sansom, Japan: A Short Cultural History (1931), 1985, 408–409). The defeat of powerful clans may have
generated some rōnin. Nobunaga’s preference for Zen Buddhism may also have been instrumental in the choice of
denomination that the komusō later made, noting that the komusō were of warrior class.
429
ENCYCLOP: Yui Shōsetsu (由井正雪). (Emphasis in the original).
430
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 94. (彼らは、一つの集団を結成し、一つの宗派として自
己の存在を主張するに至った。).
431
Tokugawa Ieyasu (徳川家康, 1543–1616).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
by the Fuke sect to support and protect its monks and their activities. One early
nineteenth-century event – the so-called Sengoku Incident – shows the scope of power that
the document possessed until quite late in the Edo period. Consulting the published lecture
by the historian Mikami Sanji in 1902 and other sources, the outline of the incident is as
follows.432
Sengoku Sakyō,433 head of a branch house of the Sengoku Clan, was successful in
installing his own son as the successor to lord Sengoku Masayoshi, who had died suddenly
without an heir.434 Sakyō had managed to get his son married to the daughter of Matsudaira
Tadatoshi (a.k.a. Chikara no Suke), younger brother of Matsudaira Yasutō.435 One of the
loyal retainers to Izushi, Kamiya Utata, tried to disclose the plans of Sakyō. He failed and
had to flee for his life to Edo,436 where he became a komusō at the branch office of the
komusō temple Ichigetsu-ji in Shimōsa. 437 The branch office was located in Asakusa.
Kamiya became the head priest of that office, and took the monastic name Yūga.438 When
he was out walking one day he was suddenly arrested by the Edo police authority, the
machi-bugyō,439 but he claimed his rights as a komusō and asked for the Commissioners of
religious affairs, Jisha-bugyō, to handle the situation.440 With reference to the “Keichō
okite-gaki,” the Jisha-bugyō did not accept the arrest, and Kamiya was set free. The
Sengoku Incident ended in that after hearing Kamiya, the authorities found that Sengoku
Sakyō’s handling of the succession had been illegal, and he was decapitated in 1835.441
The central point here is the claim that was put forward by the komusō temple
Ichigetsu-ji. In the first clause of the “Keichō okite-gaki” it is stated that the rank of komusō
was established as a hiding place for samurai, and that it was established in order for a
warrior to find temporary shelter, when he had no place to go, e.g., in time of distress. This
clause then overrode the Edo police authority’s arrest of Kamiya Utata.
432
Other sources that I have consulted are Nishiyama Matsunosuke, Iemoto monogatari (The Iemoto Story) (first
published in 1959) as it appears in Nishiyama, Iemoto-sei no tenkai (The Development of the Iemoto System), 1982,
and James Sanford, “Shakuhachi Zen. The Fukeshu and Komuso,” 1977.
433
仙石左京.
434
Sengoku Masayoshi (仙石政美) was the lord of Izushi in the Tajima Province (但馬出石藩), located in present day
Hyōgo Prefecture.
435
Matsudaira Tadatoshi (松平忠敏) or Matsudaira Chikara no Suke (松平主税助, 1818–1882), younger brother to
Matsudaira Yasutō (松平康任, 1780–1841).
436
Decrees issued by Toyotomi Hideyoshi in 1585 and 1586 presribed that no-one was allowed to leave an
employment without permission from their lord. Sansom, Japan: A Short Cultural History (1931), 1985, 432.
437
Ichigetsu-ji (一月寺) is located in present day Matsudo City in Chiba Prefecture, which at the time was Kogane in
the Shimōsa Province. (下総国小金)
438
Kamiya Utata (神谷転) changed his name to Yūga (友鵞).
439
The prohibition against leaving one’s employment, issued in decrees by Hideyoshi in 1585 and 1586 (see
footnote 436 above), gave Sengoku Sakyō a possibility to ask the Edo police authority to arrest Kamiya Utata.
440
In the Edo period there were three official organs to handle official affairs, and they also constituted the Supreme
Court. The highest organ, Jisha-bugyō (寺社奉行), took care of questions relating to religion (Buddhism and
Shintōism), and it was under direct control of the shōgun. YHJ, jishabugyō (寺社奉行), by Kitahara Akio (北原章男),
accessed on April 18, 2011. The other two were kanjō-bugyō ( 勘 定 奉 行 ), administering finances, and the
machi-bugyō (町奉行), who were the chief city magistrates and police authorities. Sansom, Japan: A Short Cultural
History (1931), 1985, 459.
441
Mikami, “Fuke-shū ni tsuite” (1), April 1902, 63–65; also in Nishiyama, Iemoto monogatari (1959), 1982,
134–135; YHJ, sengoku sōdō (仙石騒動), by Kobayashi Shigeru (小林茂), accessed on April 18, 2011.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
442
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 145–146. (慶長十九年板倉伊賀守本多佐渡守様以御連印被仰出候御書付焼失仕
候 … 焼失以来寫相見不申餘は口上にて奉申上候).
443
Ibid., 146. (去元禄年中大火の節焼失仕候).
444
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 211.
445
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 131. (徳川禁令考).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
1792, in a reply to the central authorities, Ichigetsu-ji and Reihō-ji submitted a version that
is close to the one in the Tokugawa kinrei-kō, but with clause number two excluded, one
clause added between number four and number five, and another clause added at the end,
totalling ten clauses (“Keichō okite-gaki” I-2). 446 According to Takahashi Tone, an
11-clause version, including clause 2 of I-1 and the additions in I-2, is recorded in the
Fuke-shū go-jōmoku (Decrees Relating to the Fuke Sect), preserved in the Cabinet Library
established in 1884.447
Among the longer versions, type II, there is one version that contains eighteen clauses,
which was published in a collection of essays with the name Toen shōsetsu of 1825
(“Keichō okite-gaki” II-1),448 but there is an almost exactly identical version in the Kinko
techō.449 The wording differs slightly at some points, but the general content of the clauses,
and their order, are the same.
In 1831, yet another copy was submitted from Reihō-ji to the central authorities with a
total of twenty clauses (“Keichō okite-gaki” II-2).450 Finally, Kurihara quotes a version with
twenty-one clauses that he says he found at the library. Kurihara has not been able to date
when this version was submitted, or if it was submitted at all, but one interesting aspect of
this version is that it has an addition, a ratification, saying “Enpō nen-chū no aratame,” or
Revision in the Era of Enpō, 1673–1680 (“Keichō okite-gaki” II-3).451
Law Handed Over at the Time of the Honourable Entrance into the Province
446
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, p. 135–136. Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 209–210.
447
Takahashi Tone, Tozan-ryû: An Innovation of the Shakuhachi Tradition from Fuke-shû to Secularism, 1990, 61.
448
The Toen shōsetsu (兎園小説) was edited by Kyokutei Bakin (曲亭馬琴, 1767–1848). KOKUGO/OR, kyokutei
bakin (曲亭馬琴), accessed on April 15, 2011.
449
Kurosawa Kinko III, Kinko techō (The Kinko Notebook), in Tsukamoto, ed., Kinko techō (1937), 1999, 24–27.
(Kinko techō is attributed to Kurosawa Kinko I, but it was probably written by Kinko III).
In Kurihara (Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 136–139), there are only seventeen clauses. There seems,
however, to be a mistake in the setting of the type. The word ippen (一篇) appears within clause six of this version in
Kurihara. It seems likely that the ichi (一) should be the hitotsu of a hitotsu-gaki, i.e., the beginning of a new clause
(clause seven), as it appears in the Kinko techō. The character 篇 (also 編 or 遍) should then, probably, be read as
amaneshi (Murohashi, Vol. 8: 826), which can be translated as “widely,” “all over,” or “from corner to corner.” I
therefore count both these renderings as 18-clause versions.
450
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 131–135. Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 211–214.
451
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 143. (延宝年中改).
452
Kurosawa Kinko III, Kinko techō (The Kinko Notebook), in Tsukamoto, ed., Kinko techō (1937), 1999, 24–27.
(Kinko techō is attributed to Kurosawa Kinko I, but it was probably written by Kinko III).
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
The second part, ōse watasare sōrō on-okite-gaki, refers to a law that has been handed
over. The first part, go-nyūgoku no migiri, literally means “the time of the honourable entry
to the province,” and it refers to the time when Tokugawa Ieyasu entered Edo, after Ieyasu
and Toyotomi Hideyoshi had defeated the Hōjō clan at Odawara.453 Since Ieyasu entered
Edo in 1590, the translation can be rendered more bluntly as, “Law Handed Over in 1590.”
Considering that the document is dated 1614, this title is somewhat peculiar, a fact that I
discuss with reference to the historian Mikami Sanji below (cf. Section 4.2.2.3).
1/1 • The komusō constitute a religious sect for the benefit of samurai and rōnin
[masterless samurai] who wish to find a temporary refuge, and it does not pertain
to the jurisdiction of the authorities. Hence, it should be well noted that this clause
allows only those from the warrior class to enter the sect. The meaning of the
clause should be [properly] realized.
2/— • Promotion to komusō in the various provinces is only for the samurai, and no
monk, peasant, townsman, or person of low birth is to be promoted.
3/2 • When a komusō is on a pilgrimage in the provinces and notices a suspicious
person, he should immediately arrest and detain this person. If it is in a state
controlled domain the person should be handed over to the government official, if
it is in another domain controlled by a local state administrator the person should
be handed over to the village official.
4/3 • The komusō are also filling the position of samurai, and thus it is natural that they
will ask for information about their enemies, etc., while travelling. Therefore, if
people in the provinces are careless or rude towards the komusō, or in some way
create any impediment for the komusō in their begging, [the komusō] should
investigate the detailed circumstances and notify the main temple. If the situation
cannot be cleared by the main temple, the situation should immediately be reported
to the police authority in Edo.
5/5 • The komusō should not take off their headgear indiscriminately; they should
make sure that they have thorough understanding for [the significance of] this.
6/6 • When the authorities make inquiries, the various factions of the sect should
sincerely and with effort supply whatever information they know.
7/7 • In cases when a komusō wishes to proclaim a revenge, thorough investigations
[into the matter] should be conducted, and at the same time the main temple should
make a decision which should be followed. Then a request should be submitted.
453
After a long siege the Hōjō were starved into capitulation, but Hideyoshi suggested to Ieyasu that he surrender
some coast land west of Hakone (near Odawara), in return for the domain of the Hōjō clan to the east of Hakone, i.e.,
Edo or present day Tokyo. At the time, Edo was no more than a fishing village, but Ieyasu moved his armies there
in a short period of time. (EB/OR, Conquest of the Hojo, accessed on April 19, 2011).
454
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 130–131.
455
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 209–210.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
8/8 • If a samurai rushes into the temple grounds, carrying a bloody sword and requests
[shelter], he should be asked about the circumstances of the occurrence and
detained. If the detainee is deceptive in his speech a complaint should immediately
be lodged.
9/9 • The main temples should publicize the rules of the denomination, and the
regulations should be obeyed without negligence. If someone should infringe the
rules they are to be enforced without fail.
The rules above should be firmly obeyed. Without losing the proper way of the warrior
class, it should be well noted that this is a sect for martial training. Therefore, free travel
all over Japan is allowed, and decided in accordance with the above.
First month of Keichō 19, Kinoe-tora [1614]
Honda Kōzuke no Suke (seal), Itakura Iga no Kami (seal), Honda Sado no Kami (seal)
The 10-clause version, I-2, submitted from Ichigetsu-ji and Reihō-ji in 1792, is similar to
the above “Keichō okite-gaki” I-1, but the second clause – regarding the promotion to
komusō – is omitted. In the I-2 version there is one clause added between clauses number
four and five, and another clause added at the end, totalling ten clauses.457
456
一 虚無 之儀 勇士浪人一時之爲隱家不入守護之宗門依而天下之家臣諸士之席可定置之條可得其意事
一 虚無 諸國取立之儀 諸士之外一向坊主百姓町人下賤之 不可取立事
一 虚無 諸國行脚之 疑敷 見掛候時 早速召捕其所江留置國領は其役人江相渡地領代官所 其村役人江相渡可申事
Kurihara has 地領代官所 and Ueno 他領代官所. I have not found the former compund, and I have used Ueno here. On
the other hand, Ueno has 同領, which makes less sense than the 國領 in Kurihara.
一 虚無 之儀 勇士爲兼帯自然敵抔相尋候旅行依而諸國之 對虚無 麁相慮外之品又 托鉢之障六ヶ敷儀出来候
ハ其子細相改本寺迄可申達於本寺不相濟儀 早速江戸奉行所江可告来事
一 虚無 法冠猥ニ不可取 ト萬端可心得事
一 尋 申付候 ハ宗門諸派可抽丹誠事
一 虚無 敵討申度 於有之 遂吟味兼而斷本寺從本寺可訴出事
一 諸士提血刀寺内驅込依願 其問起本可抱置若以辯舌申掠 於有之ハ早速可訴出事
一 本寺宗法出置其段無油斷爲相守宗法相背 於有之ハ急度宗法可行事
右之條々堅相守武門之正道不失武 修行之宗門ト可心得 也爲其日本國中往来自由差免置所決定如件
慶長十九甲寅正月
本多上野介印 板倉伊賀守印 本多佐渡守印
虚無 寺江
457
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 135–136. Kurihara, however, does not mention the erased provision
number two. Also in Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 209–210.
458
一 虚無 止宿は諸寺院或は驛宿之役所へ可致旅宿事
459
一 虚無 常に木太刀懐劒等心懸所持可致事
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
Clause five above is of certain interest. The word used for ‘headgear’ is hōkan, literally
“karma crown.” In the longer, type II versions, this has changed to tengai, which denotes a
braided hat that covers the whole face, looking like an overturned basket (see Plates 2 and
13). Nakatsuka notes that this kind of headgear was not in use until after the Meiwa era
(1764–1771), with reference to woodblock prints of komusō from that time.460 According to
“Kyotaku denki” the tengai was introduced by Kusunoki Masakatsu, the alleged first
komusō. In a passage where Masakatsu, a.k.a. Kyomu, explains his clothing: “Kyomu
continued, ‘I have made a new ordinance: the basket-hat is to be called tengai (“canopy”); it
shall be irreverent for a man engaged in these religious austerities to take off the basket-hat.
His face must be covered with it when he meets others. The idea is to assume a life of
seclusion even in town.’” 461 Considering that version I-2 of the “Keichō okite-gaki,”
submitted in 1792, does not carry the word tengai, it may indicate that the story in Kyotaku
denki kokuji-kai, which was published in 1795, was the first time that the deep basket type
of hat was prescribed.462
As is obvious from the above versions, the Plate 13: A komusō with tengai.
Suzuki Harunobu.
komusō were samurai, and the detailed content
Used by courtesy of the Museum of Far Eastern
of each clause is quite remarkable. The longer, Antiquities, Stockholm (NMG-1955-0221).
type II, versions contain more or less the above
clauses, and a number of additions. It is difficult
to say in what exact chronological order the
different versions were submitted to the central
authorities, but it seems likely that the versions
with more clauses were handed in to the
authorities in resistance against harsher control,
i.e., the shorter versions are of an earlier date,
and the longer of a later. The longer versions
contain more details, and also give the komusō
more special privilegies.
I have consulted three of the type II versions,
as given in Kurihara. Firstly, II-1, which
Kurihara quotes from a collection of essays,
Toen shōsetsu, was written in 1825. I regard this
version II-1 as containing eighteen clauses, for
the reason mentioned in footnote 449 above, and
I consider it to be essentially the same as the
18-clause version that appears in the Kinko techō. The next version II-2, containing twenty
clauses, was submitted from Reihō-ji in 1831. The third version, II-3, contains twenty-one
clauses, which is more than any other version, but Kurihara does not specify any date of
460
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 47–49. Nakatsuka is referring to a woodblock print by
Suzuki Harunobu, but probably not the same one as in Plate 13. A Suzuki Harunobu depicting a komusō with his
tengai removed is available at the British Museum homepage. Search: komuso, accessed May 24, 2011 at:
http://www.britishmuseum.org/research/search_the_collection_database/.
461
Tsuge, “The History of the Kyotaku,” 1977, 52.
462
There is, however, a comment about the tengai in a text from 1628, which I discuss in Section 4.5.3.2 below.
119
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
submission.463 It also carries a ratification dated at the time around the 1677 memorandum,
which is of interest in discussing the invention of the shakuhachi tradition. Even in the
shorter versions, it is quite obvious that the komusō were samurai, and that they were
engaged also in sword fights. It is also evident that the sect was outside the jurisdiction of
the central authorities; clause one above is the same, or similar in content, in all the shorter
and longer versions that I have studied. Mikami states that, considering the political
situation of the time, he finds it hard to believe that the authorities would provide a shelter
and hiding place for the masterless samurai, and he compares clause one with the
extraterritorial aspects of settlements for foreigners in Japan up to 1900.464
The longer versions give an even more vivid image of the character of the komusō.
Following Kurihara, pages 132–143, consulting also Ueno, pages 209–214, and Kinko techō,
pages 24–26, I summarize some of the contents in these longer versions. As warriors and for
the sake of seeking revenge on a foe, they are given free pass through all the checkpoints,
allowed to travel freely, including visiting theatres and free passage on ferryboats (II-1/10,
II-2/7, II-3/7).465 When a komusō desires revenge the circumstances should be investigated
to establish that neither party has any objections, and the duel should be held within the
temple grounds. Only a samurai can be given permission for this, and a komusō duellant
must return to lay status before the duel takes place. All partiality is forbidden (II-1/13,
II-2/14, II-3/14).466 During the duel, only one companion is allowed, and a duel should not
be allowed for anyone except warriors (II-1/15, II-2/16, II-3/16). 467 This situation is
different from when a samurai is entering a komusō temple with a sword dripping with
blood. The former is a case of planned revenge, and the latter is a situation where a samurai
who is not of komusō status enters a temple to seek shelter. Obviously, from the appearance
of these clauses, both cases occurred. Apart from these regulations of revenge, there are also
rules of conduct. For example, a komusō who is traveling by horse, in a wagon or similar
should make sure that he is not seen by common people (II-1/16, II-2/17, II-3/17),468
probably because he would not be wearing his headgear while riding or in a wagon, and
thereby he would risk showing his face. Furthermore, it was presumably not deemed proper
for a monk on a pilgrimage to travel by other means of transportation than on foot. A
komusō should refrain from inappropriate behaviour, and follow the rules at the official
checking and guard stations. If a komusō was caught trying to sneak past a checkpoint, this
should be properly investigated and punished. The rule should be carefully preserved
463
II-1: Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 136–139. II-2: ibid., 131–135. II-3: ibid., 139–143. All three of
these texts are written in a different style than the two shorter type I texts related above. There is a mix with
hiragana (one of the syllabic systems in Japanese), which is highly unusual in law texts, as they are normally
written in literary Chinese (kanbun). Two of the texts are reported by Kurihara as found in either a collection of
essays (II-1), or “found at the library” (II-3, probably referring to the National Library of Japan or a similar facility),
and I believe that it is possible that these two texts may have been prepared for a more general public. On the other
hand, the 20-clause text, submitted to the central authorities in 1831, is written in a similar style.
464
Mikami, “Fuke-shū ni tsuite” (2), May 1902, 66, 73.
465
虚無 之儀 兼々勇士之道敵討などのため諸関を免し依之在々所々芝居或 渡船等に至迄往来自由差許申候事
466
虚無 自然望敵討 遂吟味双方申分無之様還俗申付於寺内勝負可爲致候勿論 士之外不差免候贔負を以て片落成仕方停止之事
467
虚無 に罷出敵討度 於有之 其段委細相改差免可申候勿論多勢集り打申間敷候尤同庵一人迄 差免置候併諸士之外 一切不
差免候事
468
虚無 修行往来之 馬駕等に乗り諸人え面合せ申す間敷候是又可在心得候事
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
(II-3/18).469 The komusō were allowed entrance to theatres, but they were not supposed to
stay at inns, especially not take part in drinking parties and other forms of entertainment
(II-1/12, II-2/13, II-3/13).470 When they were on a pilgrimage, they should not stay more
than seven days (one day in II-1) at the same place. They were also not allowed to take part
in any improper musical activities or play for entertainment purposes (II-1/17, II-2/18,
II-3/19).471 Their instrument should not be made shorter than the standard length (1 shaku 8
sun), and they should not attempt to play different styles of music, presumably flute music,
and probably referring to the popular hitoyogiri shakuhachi (II-2/19, II-3/20).472 The above
clauses give a varied image of the komusō; to put it bluntly, I perceive a variety of types,
from revengeful warriors to misbehaving entertainers. The most explicit description of the
essence of the komusō is, however, the very last clause in the longer versions of the “Keichō
okite-gaki,” where it says that the rank of komusō should be determined for vassals and
warriors in the whole country. They should not lose the proper way of the warrior: they
should learn the appearance of a monk, and display that overtly, but in his heart a komusō
should strive for the intention and resolution of a samurai. A komusō should, from the very
outset, thoroughly realize that the Fuke sect is a sect for martial practice. For that reason, a
komusō is allowed free travel all over the provinces of Japan, in accordance with the laws
and regulations in the document (II-1/18, II-2/20, II-3/21).473
The three longer versions discussed here have similar content, but it is only the 21-clause
version that carries what, in effect, is a ratification signed by three representatives of the
central authorities in the Enpō era (1673–1681): Hotta Kaga no Kami, Ōta Settsu no Kami,
and Makino Uchi no Kashiwade no Kami.
Revision in the era of Enpō [1673–1680] (Carrying the names Hotta Kaga no Kami
(seal), Ōta Settsu no Kami (seal), Makino Uchi no Kashiwade no Kami (seal))474
To disclose the revered meaning of the above ordinance openly, the Council of Elders
hereby present it in an ordinary manner. The true path of the denomination that we see
should not be hidden. Furthermore, fellow komusō who turn their back on the sect should
have their komusō license [honsoku] revoked, and they will be severely punished in
accordance with the rules of the denomination.
Month Day
To the Assembly of Monks at the Main Temple475
469
虚無 修業先之関所番所にては不作法無之様古来之通可致候若又脇道より忍通候虚無 之に於ては急度遂吟味可爲曲事相愼可
相守事
470
一宿等致間敷候殊以酒宴遊興). This clause has slightly different wordings, and in II-3 there are some words missing.
It is, however, beyond the scope of this thesis to study the details of this matter.
471
住所を離他國所々城下町托鉢修行七日之外逗留堅無用惣而不流事吹申間敷候尤遊藝出合堅吹申間敷事
472
托鉢修行之 尺八等も短成竹を集め色々之儀吹申間敷候事
473
虚無 之儀 天下之家臣諸士之席に可被定上 常に武門之正道を不失何時にても還俗可申付間面には 之形を學ひ内心に 武
士之志をはげみ兼々武 修行之宗門と可心得 也爲其日本國々往来自由差免申置候仍而定書如件
474
The title of Makino should probably be read Uchi no Kashiwade no Kami, but it can also be read Naizen no Shō.
The character in Kurihara does, however, differ: in Kurihara it reads 内繕正, which probably should be 内膳正. The
title denotes the head of the Imperial kitchen. The character 繕 means ‘mend,’ but I have not been able to find the
character combination 内繕正 in lexica. (Morohashi, Vol 1, p. 1053). It does, however, seem strange that the head of
the Imperial kitchen would put his seal on a document released by the Council of Elders to a religious sect. It is,
however, beyond the scope of the present study to further investigate this matter.
475
延寶年中改 (堀田加賀守印、太田攝津守印、牧野内繕正印とあり)
右掟書今度爲御意被仰出候趣にて御老中より被相渡候間平生奉拜見宗門之正道不可隱事且又宗門相背輩於有之 本則取上宗門厳罰
可申付 なり 月 日 本寺集會 中
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
476
Mikami, “Fuke-shū ni tsuite” (1), April 1902, 73–74. (是程著い疑點かあれば如何に寺社奉行の局に當つて居る人であッ
ても遠慮なくそれ位の間違は指摘して宜い筈でありますが、… 權現様といふ三字か頭に冠つて居りますからどうしても指摘すると
が出来ない、逃げ場所が權現様でありますから大抵の事は通つて居つたのです).
477
Ibid., 74. (是が又其當時の法令發布の手續を少しも知らぬ無學な虛無僧が作つたといふ一つの證據であります).
478
金地院崇伝 (1569–1633).
479
Mikami, “Fuke-shū ni tsuite” (1), April 1902, 69, 74–75.
480
Ibid., 69–70.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
4) Apart from these objections to the “Keichō okite-gaki” Mikami also makes a point
about the style of writing. He finds it not to be in compliance with the way an ordinance
would have been written in the early seventeenth century, in the Keichō era, but rather more
in the style of the end of the fourth and the beginning of the fifth Tokugawa shōgun, i.e.,
around 1680.481 That means that, according to Mikami Sanji, the “Keichō okite-gaki” was a
forgery written about the same time as the 1677 memorandum. It should, however, be
pointed out that Mikami mentions documents with around twenty, seventeen, or sixteen
clauses as “longer versions,” and documents with nine, eleven, and eight clauses as “shorter
versions.” This in itself is suspicious for Mikami, but which of these documents he used
when dating the style to around 1680 is not clear from his text. Among the versions I have
consulted, the one in the Tokugawa kinrei-kō seems to be the most formal in style, I would
assume that this is the text he dated. The other versions seem to be in a slightly more
colloquial style, as mentioned above.
5) The first aspect that made Mikami suspicious is, however, the fact that there are no
official records from the Edo period that mention any of the extant documents. Furthermore,
Mikami found that already in the Edo period there were suspicious remarks made about the
document from within the central authorities. However, since the document was headed
with the name of Tokugawa Ieyasu, nobody dared to come forward with any suspicious
remarks; if the document was proven authentic, any doubtful remark may have resulted in
the loss of one’s head. According to the notes made by one of the Jisha-bugyō
commissioners, Inaba Tango no Kami Masamori, the Confucian scholar Arai Hakuseki
(1657–1725) had made some comments regarding the authenticity of the “Keichō
okite-gaki.” The copy Hakuseki was using was probably, according to Mikami, a copy
made from the predecessor of Masamori, i.e., the Jisha-bugyō commissioner Hotta Bitchū
no Kami Masaaki, or his predecessor and contemporary colleague Wakisaka Nakatsukasa
Daisuke Yasutada,482 but the document was never questioned officially until Mikami Sanji
conducted his critical study.
Apart from these formal aspects of the document, Mikami also finds it hard to believe
that Tokugawa Ieyasu would have granted such privilegies to the komusō during a time
when his enemies were still in the Osaka castle. The content of the document is not in line
with the political situation of the Edo period.483
As far as known, the first time a copy of the “Keichō okite-gaki” was handed in to the
central authorities was in 1792 (the 10-clause version I-2). That is three years before the
publication of the Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai, and around one-hundred and eighty years after
the assumed issuance of the original “Keichō okite-gaki.”
481
Ibid., 75.
482
Ibid., 66–68. (新井白石; 稲葉丹後守正盛; 堀田備中守正秋; 脇坂中務大輔). The names of Hotta and Wakisaka were
corrected in the publication of the second half of the lecture. Mikami, “Fuke-shū ni tsuite” (2), May 1902, 64: 堀田備
中守正篤; 脇坂中務大輔安董.
483
Mikami, “Fuke-shū ni tsuite” (2), May 1902, 66–67.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
484
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 272–273. (海道本則/暮露の手帳). (筑紫・中国・五畿・伊
勢・上州・美濃・武蔵・中武蔵・下総・常陸・下野・奥州・奥洲・北国に二つ).
485
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 96.
486
初世黒沢琴古.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
He was the appointed shakuhachi instructor of the two main Fuke temples around Edo,
Ichigetsu-ji and Reihō-ji,487 responsible for teaching shakuhachi to new komusō monks.488
According to a document from 1768 titled “Chōka jūkyo shakuhachi shinan-sha seimei
narabi ni fukiawase-sho mei” (Names of Teaching Studios and Shakuhachi Teachers Living
in the Quarters of Townspeople), Kinko I was, however, also teaching at a total of five
studios in the city of Edo.489
At the time of the second and the third generation Kinko, so-called fukiawase-sho – de
facto shakuhachi studios for teaching – were set up at several places around Edo. In 1792
the two main temples Ichigetsu-ji and Reihō-ji submitted a written document to the official
organ handling affairs concerning temples and shrines, the Jisha-bugyō,490 stating that there
were twenty-one studios (fukiawase-sho) in the hands of fourteen shakuhachi teachers.
Among the named teachers were not only komusō monks, but also commoners, and the
names of both the second and the third generations Kurosawa Kinko – Kinko II and Kinko
III – were among the teachers listed.491 This shows that less than 120 years after the official
approval of the komusō monks, both komusō and common people were teaching shakuhachi
to townspeople. During the later part of the Edo period the shakuhachi became more and
more of an urban culture, but this change was not limited to the city of Edo and the
Kinko-ryū. The komusō played together with string instruments and taught shakuhachi to
townspeople, even though it was prohibited.
Already seventeen years after the official approval in 1677, the monks received a very
strong admonition, in which is written that they should not indulge in profane music making.
In 1694 (Genroku year 7), the head temple of the Fuke sect in Kyoto, Myōan-ji, issued a set
of regulations, the “Honsoku-deshi e mōshi-watashi sadame” (Announcement of
Regulations for Disciples of the First Seal),492 containing twenty-three articles regulating the
behaviour and do’s and don’ts for the komusō. In the document, it is stated that children
under the age of fifteen should not be allowed to receive honsoku licenses at the various
fukiawase-sho, and that issuing honsoku licenses to bad people and hiding their names,
should stop. Yet another article states that the komusō should not show themselves at
Shimabara, the geisha entertainment area in Kyoto, and they should not appear during the
summer festival. Furthermore, the komusō should not conduct their activities around the
Nijō area, most likely because it is the location of the shōgun’s castle while in Kyoto, and
that they should behave modestly and make sure not to be rude when encountering officials.
It is also said that, while appearing as monks, they should not argue with people or have
fights, and not enter entertainment areas or places in the capital where there are many
487
Ichigetsu-ji (一月寺), located in Kogane, Shimōsa province (下総国小金), present day Chiba-ken Matsudo-shi;
Reihō-ji (鈴法寺), located in Ōme, Musashi province (武蔵国青梅), present day Tokyo-to Ōme-shi. Since the central
authorities were located in Edo, they preferred to use these two temples as the main temple, and Myōan-ji in Kyoto
was the third main temple. Why there were so many temples, and two in around Edo, is not known, but the reason
may be the various factions of komusō. (Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 95).
488
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 31. (両寺の番所の尺八指南役として活躍したのが初世黒沢琴
古).
489
Nishiyama, “Edo-jidai no kaisō to ongaku” (Social Strata and Music in the Edo period), 1987, 410. (町家住居尺八
指南者姓名並に吹合所名).
490
寺社奉行.
491
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 241–242.
492
The komusō held three seals, of which the honsoku, their registration as komusō monks, was the most important.
(本則弟子江申渡定).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
people. In the final article, it is also stated that the komusō should perform their religious
activities playing the fundamental pieces, honkyoku,493 and that the practice of playing
secular or corrupt pieces was “inappropriate” and should “stop immediately.”494
All these detailed regulations indicate that, even at this time, the activities by the komusō
needed to be controlled, and that it already had become common practice to teach
townspeople also in Kyoto. From this official proclamation we may also conclude that the
komusō probably did perform secular ensemble pieces, gaikyoku,495 quite early on.
The very existence of the above-mentioned rules of conduct, determining some social
aspects of the komusō’s behaviour, imply that the ‘tradition’ as such was still forming in the
seventeenth century; the shakuhachi and its music went through a number of changes during
the time it was being established as a tradition. As the name of a musical instrument
‘shakuhachi’ has historically proven connections, at least to the eighth century in Japan. The
connection to medieval shakuhachi is unclear and disputable, and it seems likely that the
tradition of komusō shakuhachi was not established in the society until the end of the
seventeenth century. In Shichiku shoshin-shū (Collection of Beginners’ Pieces for Strings
and Bamboo) of 1664, the author Nakamura Sōsan, a performer of hitoyogiri shakuhachi,
explains about its origins, and also comments on the komusō shakuhachi.
What is called komusō shakuhachi is cut in the length of one shaku [approx. 30
centimetres] eight sun [approx. 24 centimetres], and it is called shakuhachi. Its origins are
unknown for certain. It is said that in old times, the founder of this Way was Hottō from
Yura, but I don’t think this is so.496
Even though the komusō were soon to receive an official acknowledgement, the 1677
memorandum, indicating the formation of a religious body at the close of the seventeenth
century, this origin was apparently not known even to a person like Nakamura, who was
knowledgeable enough to publish a book about the shakuhachi, and who was himself a
practitioner of the similar hitoyogiri shakuhachi.
493
Pieces developed by the komusō for use in their religious activities on pilgrimages and when begging. (本曲).
494
In Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 166–169. The term rankyoku (乱曲) means literary
‘disorderly pieces,’ pieces that create disruption form the order of things, i.e., the playing of honkyoku. What was
referred to as rankyoku was popular pieces performed in ensemble with the koto and shamisen, which supposedly
disturbed concentration on normal activities. (Ibid., 169). (尺八の手本曲を可為修行、乱曲吹候事不相成候、勿論指南所者不
申及、於面々之宅、尺八を琴三味線合候儀急度停止申付候).
495
The term gaikyoku (外曲), ‘outer’ pieces, denotes all types of music which is not honkyoku, i.e., fundamental
music of the school. See further Chapter 8.
496
Nakamura, Shichiku shoshin-shū (1664), 1976, 4. (虚無僧尺八といふは、長さ一尺八寸に切ゆへ、尺八といふとぞ、濫觴
はたしかに不知、そのかみ由良の法燈此道の祖たるよしいへども、了簡せず).
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
end-users of the culture in question. Type I is the tradition of culture among the nobility,
kizoku bunka, with its roots in the Heian period. Type II is the tradition of warrior class
culture, buke bunka,497 which developed from the Kamakura period and on. Type III is the
tradition of culture among the common people, minshū bunka, which showed a remarkable
development during the Edo period. He further classifies the types of artistry involved:
Type I is yūgei geinō, the pursuit of leisure, Type II is bugei geinō or martial arts, and Type
III is taishū geinō, popular performing arts.498 Many of the art forms that belong to Type I,
yūgei geinō, were created and developed by the hands of the nobility, including samurai, but
also of outcasts, e.g., stage performers of Nō and Kabuki, and, to some extent, maybe even
the beggar monks of the Muromachi period, the komosō (cf. Section 4.5). Nishiyama notes
that warriors who were involved in these Type I art forms took part, not as warriors, but
rather as nobility; Fuke shakuhachi is one of the many art forms that Nishiyama counts
within this genre.499
The rapid economical growth of the merchant class played an important part in the
change of end-user of the arts. In the above-mentioned “Honsoku-deshi e mōshi-watashi
sadame” there is a difference made between tōji jikimon-tei, disciples studying directly with
a teacher at the temple, and honsoku-deshi. Tsukitani Tsuneko states that at the temple
Myōan-ji, they “already at the end of the seventeenth century … differentiated between
‘honsoku-deshi,’ living in Kyoto or outside the city, and ‘tōji jikimon-tei’.”500
Towards the end of the seventeenth century the number of townspeople who wanted to be
part of cultural activities increased tremendously. Nishiyama holds that the popular
performing arts developed as a formalised art form, geidō, around the Genroku era
(1688–1703) or slightly before that, and that one characteristic of geidō in the Early Modern
Period is that “there was an increasing number of musical perfomers, stage performers and
artists … people who made art their occupation, and turned art into a commodity.”501 This
in turn had the effect that they requested diplomas to certify their accomplishments, which
was the real revolution in terms of cultural transmission, leading to a more organised iemoto
system on a grander scale.502 I agree with Gerald Groemer, the translator of Nishiyama’s
Edo Culture: Daily Life and Diversions in Urban Japan, 1600–1868, in his reflection on
Nishiyama’s ideas. The following is a passage from Groemer’s introduction to the book.
497
The warriors were also nobility, so there seems to be an overlap between the two. This problem is addressed
below. (I 貴族文化; II 武家文化; III 民衆文化).
498
Nishiyama, “Kinsei geijutsu shisō …,” 1972, 589. (I 遊芸芸能; II 武芸芸能; III 大衆芸能).
499
Ibid., 590. The komusō (虚無僧) monks of the Edo period were actually samurai, not to be confused with the
komosō (薦僧) beggar monks of the Muromachi period. The connection between the komusō and the komosō is
further discussed in Chapters 5, 6, and 7. Nishiyama refers to the samurai as nobility, but often the word ‘nobility’ is
used to denote the court aristocracy. In the Edo period society, the social classes were: samurai, farmers,
craftspeople, and merchants. The court aristocracy was of course on the same level as, or above, the samurai.
500
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 31. (十七世紀末すでに明暗寺には二種類の弟子がいて、明暗寺
はこれを「当寺直門弟」と、京地(京都の地)や田舎に居住する「本則弟子」として区別した。). Nakatsuka also notes the actual
existence of these two types of monks at the time of the 1694 regulations. (Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan
(1936–39), 1979, 169–170). Nakatsuka refers to honsoku-deshi as “machi-kata zaijū honsoku montei” (町方在住本則
門弟).
501
Nishiyama, “Kinsei no yūgei-ron,” 1972, 608, 618.
502
The iemoto system is a hierarchical system with a ‘head of the house’ at the top, who is the artistic standard for
the art form in question, but often also functions as a social leader in regard to activities and behaviour even outside
the artistic activities. See Chapter 8.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
The contemporary proliferation of ’town teachers’ – mediators between the iemoto and
the novice pupil – was in Nishiyama’s view a result of the increase in the chōnin’s
[townspeople’s] demand for cultural activity. This concern with culture was, in turn,
premised on the chōnin’s great economic advance during this period. Nishiyama does not,
however, interpret the chōnin’s desire for cultivation or the rise of the iemoto system as
merely a ’reflection’ of economic or political forces. Instead he views the iemoto
system’s growth as part of a popular strategy in which chōnin attempted to break through
the rigid framework of social rank and status that was strangling Edo-period society.503
In the world of shakuhachi, the practice of teaching townspeople, and the fact that these
townspeople became licensed teachers themselves without being of noble birth, must be
viewed as one aspect of this social phenomenon, since – according to the “Keichō
okite-gaki” – only a samurai could become a komusō. During the eighteenth century, the
Fuke sect was repeatedly admonished by the authorities to stop teaching shakuhachi to
townspeople, and to stop handing out diplomas and professional names, but the sect
defended itself by saying that these people were purveyors, that they were common people
working as servants at the temple, hired by a samurai household, or of the same status as
samurai. In reality they were shakuhachi teachers living in the city.504 This can be related to
the longer versions of “Keichō okite-gaki” discussed in Section 4.2.2.2 above, for example
in clause ten of the 21-clause version (II-3), where one reads:
• If another kind of person than a komusō plays the shakuhachi, a shakuhachi license
should be issued by the main temple, and the person should be allowed to play. Of course,
apart from warriors, people from the lower classes are not to play shakuhachi. Naturally,
they may not be made into komusō.505
The contents of clause 3 of the 18-clause version (II-1) and clause 9 of the 20-clause
version (II-2) are similar, but the clause is not to be found in the shorter versions that are
probably of an earlier date. The practice of giving professional so-called ‘bamboo names’506
and handing out komusō licenses was in alignment with the general trend in contemporary
society within the field of the traditional arts, at least from the middle of the eighteenth
century.507
The komusō were of noble birth, i.e., samurai, but as the content of the “Keichō
okite-gaki” indicates, the Fuke sect was more than anything a place of refuge for the
masterless samurai, rōnin, of the late seventeenth century, a place where they would find
clothes, food, and a roof over their heads. At the same time they were able to retain some of
their privilegies as samurai, e.g., the right to have a duel. They were not necessarily
interested in following the Way of Buddha. I would not claim, however, that they worked
503
Gerald Groemer, “Translator’s Introduction” in Edo Culture: Daily Life and Diversions in Urban Japan,
1600–1868, 5.
504
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 243.
505
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 141. (虚無 之外尺八を吹類有之 、本寺より尺八の免許を出し、吹せ可申候勿
論武士之外下賤之 共一切尺八吹申間敷候尤虚無 にも不可致候事候事).
506
Both chikumei (竹名) and chikugō (竹号) are used.
507
Nishiyama, “Edo-jidai no kaisō to ongaku” (Social Strata and Music in the Edo period), 1987, 409–410;
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 31; Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 245.
(honsoku 本則).
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
against it consciously, or that all komusō were of that kind, but rather that many of the
komusō were more interested in finding a means of survival. Giving out professional names
(chikumei/chikugō) and handing out komusō licenses (honsoku) was a source of income for
the temples and their monks. This practice was in a way similar to other art forms, even if it
– at this time – had not taken the shape of a formalized iemoto system. It did, however,
make it possible for the komusō monks to (1) establish themselves as the true transmitters of
the shakuhachi tradition, and (2) earn a living not only from begging, but more and more
from musical activities. It is therefore not surprising that the later versions of “Keichō
okite-gaki” give the komusō monopoly on using the shakuhachi, in accordance with the
clause quoted above.
The Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai was published after a number of strong admonitions from
the central authorities during the eighteenth century. In a 1706 ordinance from the police
authority in Kyoto addressed to Myōan-ji, the main komusō temple in Kyoto, it was decreed
that townspeople should not be given komusō licenses, or honsoku.508 A similar but more
detailed ordinance was issued in 1759, addressed to the two main temples in Edo,
Ichigetsu-ji and Reihō-ji. The temples were told not to issue honsoku to other than samurai,
to make sure that those who receive the honsoku were not fugitives, and that they had a
reliable guarantor. It also states that a stop should be put to peasants and townspeople
playing the shakuhachi for entertainment.509 The komusō at Ichigetsu-ji and Reihō-ji replied
to this in 1792, saying that both temples had stopped handing out licenses to peasants and
townspeople, and that they would hand them out only to people of samurai rank. They also
inquired what to do with the honsoku licenses they had already issued, and said that they
will leave things as they are until further notified.510 Preceding this reply by almost twenty
years, another ordinance from the authorities had been issued in 1774. In this occurrences
are reported in which people appearing as komusō had extorted alms or lodging from
villagers, even hurting people by hitting them with the shakuhachi. The ordinance states that
in case of even the slightest unlawful behaviour by a komusō, he should be detained and
brought to the authorities. Negligence to comply with this ordinance is to be punished, and
the content of the ordinance should be handed out to territories controlled by the central
government, private territories, and territories owned by temples and shrines. The ordinance
was also to be posted at the entrance of villages.511
Ueno suggests that in the middle of the nineteenth century it had become unusual for
komusō to conduct begging, which was part of the religious practice. Instead they would
request alms from the villages, as implied in the 1774 ordinance.512 This is also indicated in
one of the texts by Hisamatsu Fūyō. In the Hitori mondō of 1823 Fūyō writes that, “those
who study shakuhachi as a Zen implement are rare.”513 Still, the 1835 Sengoku Incident (cf.
Section 4.2.2) is an indication that the “Keichō okite-gaki” was a politically powerful
document.
508
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 224.
509
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 163–164.
510
Ibid., 166.
511
Ibid., 167; Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 230.
512
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 234.
513
Hisamatsu Fuūyō, Hitori mondō (1823). In Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 213. (禅器の尺八を学ぶ者稀
なり).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Kurihara remarks that the abuse and mischief of the komusō continued, 514 and the
authorities eventually issued a proclamation that in effect disclaimed the privilegies that the
“Keichō okite-gaki” had brought with it. In 1847, the central authorities issued an official
proclamation to the monks of the Fuke sect, in which it is stated that their activities had
become disorderly and indecent in recent years, that the denomination was a branch of
Rinzai Zen and that the monks should follow the path of a Zen Buddhist monk. It also states
that the sect should not make claims of being a hiding place, but rather that they should
conduct their activities in the same way as monks of other denominations, and receive what
people bestow on them, i.e., not extort alms, receive money for honsoku licenses, or other
worldly activities.515
Shakuhachi honkyoku are still performed today, and maybe with an increasing popularity
both in Japan and abroad. Maybe there were many komusō who did not have a strong
inclination for religious practices, but the fact that a large number of pieces are still being
played today indicates that the komusō were actively transmitting the music. Riley Lee
suggests that the fact that a large number of pieces have survived is a compelling evidence
that, “throughout the Edo period and even after the abolition of the Fuke sect, the
shakuhachi was played as a spiritual tool.”516 As the shakuhachi apparently was a popular
instrument in the Edo period Japan, the spirituality may not have been the most central and
important aspects in the transmission of the music. Lee also asserts that, even if there are
few, if any, who believe in the legend as it is told in the Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai, “the
centuries old association between the honkyoku and Fuke still operates within the
tradition.”517
This does not change the fact that the legend was created by the komusō for
socio-political and socio-economical reasons; neither does it change the fact that the music
we hear today does have its origin in the activities of the Edo period komusō. In a review of
the position of the – at the time – contemporary shakuhachi, Kurihara also concludes that
modern shakuhachi music developed thanks to the closed circle of which it was part during
the Edo period:
[T]he shakuhachi kept well in touch with the world during the three hundred years of the
Tokugawa period and accomplished a considerable development, which we, again, have
to say was due to the fact that it was the implement of the Fuke sect. Thus, the Fuke sect
was abolished and the komusō became extinct, and even though we call it today’s
shakuhachi, it is quite evident, without any verbosity, that its foundation is deeply rooted
in the komusō period.518
The komusō began to lose their position in society from the middle of the nineteenth
century, but after the abolishment of the Fuke sect in 1871, the fourth year of the Meiji
period and at the very beginning of the Modern Period, the shakuhachi developed in new
514
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 168.
515
Ibid., 168; Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 105. (普化層之儀ニ付御触)
516
Lee, Yearning for the Bell …, 1993, 149. Word in italics underlined in the original.
517
Ibid., 167. Word in italics underlined in the original.
518
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 191. (而も尺八が徳川時代三百年の間能く世と接触を保ち相当の発達を遂げた
るはまた普化宗の法器たりしが為なりと云はざるべからず、従て普化宗は廃止となり虚無僧は絶滅したる今日の尺八と雖も、其の
恨帯は深く虚無僧時代に存すること多言を要せずして明なり).
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
ways. Chapter 8 contains a discussion of the transition that the shakuhachi tradition
underwent from the Edo period to the Meiji period, and of the transmission of this semi-oral
tradition.
Maki Isaka Morinaga, a scholar on Japanese literature and theater, wrote the book Secrecy
in Japanese Arts: “Secret Transmission” as a Mode of Knowledge in 2005. The book is “an
analysis of esotericism as a mode of knowledge in the discourse of Japanese theatrical and
martial arts.”519 Her study is centered around two texts displaying ‘Secret Transmission’: for
martial arts Heihō kadensho (Book of the Family Transmission of Military Strategy), by the
swordsman Yagyū Munenori (1571–1646),520 and for theatrical art Fūshikaden (Teachings
on Style and the Flower), by Zeami Motokiyo (1363–1443).521 Morinaga’s aim is not to
disclose secret teachings, or to discuss esoteric Buddhism, but rather, to discuss the logic of
Japanese arts, in order to see how knowledge operates in a localised context. From this
perspective, her theories relate also to the present study.522
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
[T]he logic here presupposes, and constructs, the particular association between a writer
and the origin of the knowledge in the imagined past. … I hold that “hearsay” in this
context enables esoteric texts to construct the past in a particular way. To be exact … [i]t
is … the dynamics among several types of hearsay modes that make possible the
esotericist construction of the past, and, by extension, the connection between a writer
and the past.525
Morinaga discusses mainly Zeami’s Fūshikaden in respect to hearsay, especially his use
of the citational markers iwaku (‘X says’) and to nari (‘so it is said’). According to a review
of Morinaga’s book by associate professor Susan Klein, modern scholars have twisted the
meaning of these markers around, “so as to not indicate citation at all, but instead,
remarkably, to indicate ‘original’ contributions by Zeami.” 526 Morinaga says that the
dichotomy between traditionality and originality, and by extension also creativity, in
existing scholarship (cf. Section 1.3.3.2 above) is the root of the problem: “the discursive
paradigm in which Zeami resides treats creativity and traditionality as potentially—and
desirably—fusible attributions.”527
Nō, as we know it today, goes back to the activities and writings of Zeami and his father
Kan’ami. I find that it should be possible to apply the notion of ‘hearsay dynamics’ to other
art forms as well, to determine how and if hearsay is used in the construction of a tradition.
Hearsay as a genre does not create any problematic points: this genre quotes what a
master, a teacher or an originator has said, a record of his or her teachings. However, when
it comes to hearsay as a theoretical paradigm inside a single text, Morinaga finds two modes
of quotation that are at use in esotoric texts by which an imagined past is constructed: clear
quotations and obscure quotations. Morinaga finds an abundance of clear quotations in
Heihō kadensho, for example, Chinese classics, Zen phrases (kōan, etc.), Zen masters,
Indian princes and so on, even though she also finds obscure quotations, references such as
“according to a buddha.”528 The Fūshikaden, on the other hand, has a limited number of
clear quotations, according to Morinaga, that appear almost exclusively when Zeami
explains the history of Nō. In regard to Nō artistery, however, Zeami hardly ever uses clear
quotations. The obscure quotations imply a reference but lacks credits. Some do not identify
the putative original source, e.g., “a sutra says…,” or the type mentioned above, iwaku and
to nari. 529 From there, Morinaga continues to subdivide obscure quotations into two
different types, reaching a strata of a total of three types of quotations: “clear quotations
(Type 1), obscure citations with identifiable sources (Type 2), and dim quotations without
identifiable sources (Type 3).”530
In Morinaga’s words, “as the result of exhaustive research, the established scholarship
has discovered that Fûshikaden is enriched with Type 2 citations supported by wide
knowledge ranging from poetry to Buddhism.” Apart from these identifiable quotes, Zeami
525
Ibid., 49.
526
Susan Blakeley Klein, review of Secrecy in Japanese Arts: “Secret Transmission” as a Mode of Knowledge,
Morinaga Maki Isaka, 2008, 188.
527
Morinaga, Secrecy in Japanese Arts …, 2005, 59.
528
Ibid., 50.
529
Ibid., 53–54.
530
Ibid., 50.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
also uses phrasings with iwaku and to nari, where scholars have not been able to identify the
sources. According to Morinaga, the established scholarship has nullified these parts, by
asserting that: (1) iwaku is nothing more than a wording that Zeami prefers, and that it does
not refer to any past writings, and (2) to nari is a construction with the auxiliary verb nari,
which has multiple functions, either ‘hearsay’ or ‘conclusion.’531
According to Morinaga, existing scholarship on esoteric practices tends to consider
dictation as the only possible form of writing. Morinaga refers to a certain Kuroda Ryō as
saying that many great artists, whether in acting or swordsmanship, are devoted to their art,
an art that is far from literary activity, so most of them “depend on anthologies in which a
third party collects these great actors’ words and deeds.”532 Morinaga further refers to
Professor Kumakura Isao, a scholar on the history of Japanese culture, and says that he
states that the words that become oral instructions accrue subjective meaning (shutaiteki na
imi) for “the disciple who receives them, and not to the part of a mentor who narrates.”533
According to Morinaga, Kumakura’s conclusion is that dictation is the only possible form
of recording the contents of oral transmission.
Morinaga, on the other hand, argues that even texts that are not dictations (may) include a
propensity, an innate inclination, for dictation. In scholastic studies on Zeami, seventeen
cases of mata iwaku have been found, of which seven have traceable sources. The
remaining ten are regarded, by scholars, as a literary style used by Zeami, when introducing
supplementary explanations added by Zeami himself.534 Morinaga questions why we should
regard occurences of mata iwaku and, by extension, iwaku, as customary formulas without
any hearsay connotations only when there are no definable sources. She does not disagree
with the propositions put forward by modern scholarship, but she finds that scholarship
stretches the methods too far. Morinaga asserts: “[E]ven when sources are unlikely to exist,
hearsay is possible as a logic of writing in the context. It means that Type 3 is vaild as a
taxonomic concept, and that the text demonstrates a propensity for hearsay whether or not it
is actually hearsay in the strict sense.”535
For Morinaga, both Type 2 and Type 3 citations construct the past, whereby Type 2 is a
key operator in this construction, and Type 3 citations are “capable of thrusting the present
(i.e., the latest possible ‘past’) into the past,”536 and she proposes that attention be given to
how creativity is conceptualized. By connecting present with past, by the use of Type 3
citations, Morinaga argues that these quotations can “incorporate utterances at the present
moment (creation) with utterances in the past (tradition).” Zeami created (saku suru),
receiving the tradition (fū wo ukete); 537 creation and the reception of tradition are
531
Ibid., 55.
532
Quoted in Morinaga, Secrecy in Japanese Arts …, 2005, 47: Kuroda Ryō (黒田亮), Kan no Kenkyū (勘の研究) (A
Study of Intention), Tokyo: Kōdansha, 1980, 153.
533
Quoted in Morinaga, Secrecy in Japanese Arts …, 2005, 48: Kumakura Isao (熊倉功夫, 1943–), “Hiden no shisō”
(秘伝の思想) (The Ideas of Secret Transmission). Geinō to chinkon (芸能と鎮魂) (Entertainment and Requiescat), in
Moriya Takeshi, ed., Taikei Bukkyō to nihonjin 7 (大系仏教と日本人) (Survey of Buddhism and the Japanese). Tokyo:
Shunjūsha, 1980, 286.
534
Morinaga, Secrecy in Japanese Arts …, 2005, p. 57.
535
Ibid.
536
Ibid., 58.
537
Ibid., 59.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
simultaneously present and mutually indispensable. This can be seen in some of Zeami’s
writings, for example in the Fūshikaden:
When the author and the actor of a nō are different persons, it is impossible for an actor to
perform to his full satisfaction. If the actor has written his own play, however, both the
text and the gestures can be performed according to his conception. One who can perform
the nō and has some talent in writing can surely compose one without difficulty. Such is
the very life of our art.538
This reveals the ‘creative’ aspect of Nō for Zeami, but in the same paragraph he is
nevertheless setting criteria for good and bad performances, based on their relation to
traditional aspects.
Now, as far as the nō performances themselves are concerned, they can be judged as high,
average, and low. A play that is taken from an authentic source, shows novelty, and
possesses Grace will have something of interest about it and will surely be a play of first
quality. If such a play is well performed and successfully received, then it is doubtless in
the first category. Even if the play is not such a good one but is constructed properly in
accordance with its source and without any flaws, then, if the performance is successful,
it can be considered in the second category. Even if the play is merely showy and not
authentic, should the actor make proper use of the text and apply all his skill and effort to
please the audience, then such a performance will be in the third category.539
From this we can conclude that there are several aspects that need to be considered in the
evaluation of a performance: (1) its authenticity, i.e., that it builds on the tradition; (2) its
novelty, i.e., a play should not only be copied from a tradition, but something new must be
added; (3) the actor’s ability and efforts in performing the play, i.e., a “proper use of the text”
and an application of “all his skill” are apparently highly evaluated, even if the play is
mediocre; (4) the successfulness of the performance, i.e., if the audience likes it, it is
positively evaluated.
In regard to the novelty vis-à-vis tradition, Zeami asserts that “while studying the old and
admiring the new, the great traditions of elegance must never be slighted,”540 which would
imply that ‘traditional aspects’ have higher priority than ‘novelty.’ This is also indicated by
Zeami in another of his writings, Sandō.
There is also the category of “created nō” in which a new play is prepared without any
specific literary source, making use of the affinities between famous places or historical
sites, in order to move the audience. Such plays are difficult to compose and require the
accomplishments of a highly skilled person or great talent.541
To have this great talent is to have gained the Flower, which should not be the Flower of
youth, but to have mastered the essence of Nō. Then, such a person could perform in any
538
Zeami, Fūshikaden (1400/1402), 1973, 359–360. Translated in Rimer and Yamazaki, On the Art of the Nō Drama,
1984, 21.
539
Zeami, Fūshikaden (1400/1402), 1973, p. 360. Translated in Rimer and Yamazaki, On the Art of the Nō Drama,
1984, 22.
540
Zeami, Fūshikaden (1400/1402), 1973, 342. Translated in Rimer and Yamazaki, On the Art of the Nō Drama, 3.
541
Zeami, Sandō (1423), 1973, 471. Translated in Rimer and Yamazaki, On the Art of the Nō Drama, 1984, 149.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
style that exists. If an actor is inattentive to the fundamental principles in his own style, his
acting can never possess any genuine life of its own. This aspect of ‘tradition’ refers to the
form or formalized pattern of performance, and Zeami implies that only those who
thoroughly master (kiwameru) the moulds (kata-gi) of their own art can understand other
forms of Nō as well. 542 I discuss the notion of form (kata) further in Chapter 8.
What is important in relation to the present study, is a central point in Morinaga’s
argument that “Zeami is engaged in the noh theater and practitioners’ genealogy, i.e., a
quest for the present, as opposed to archaeology, i.e., a quest for the past.”543 From this I
conclude that Morinaga’s concept of ‘dynamic hearsay’ may also relate to the creation of a
historical origin, regardless of the fact that Morinaga uses it mostly in relation to the
aesthetic principles of Nō in the writings of Zeami. I will treat this concept as a tool for
inventing tradition, as I envisage the creation of an origin in the shakuhachi tradition during
the seventeenth century.
542
Zeami, Fūshikaden (1400/1402), 1973, 375. Translated in Rimer and Yamazaki, On the Art of the Nō Drama,
1984, 40.
543
Morinaga, Secrecy in Japanese Arts …, 2005, 53.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
544
Records of Linji (臨済録), collected teachings of Rinzai Gigen (臨済義玄, d. 866), in Chisese Linji Yixuan, the
founder of the Rinzai School of Zen Buddhism.
545
狂雲集.
546
Ichikawa, “Ikkyū to sono zen shisō,” 1991, 574–575. Ichikawa is referring to the Okumura-bon edition, in which
the various parts are divided as follows: “Kyōun-shū” comprising 669 poems, “Zoku Kyōun-shishū” 154, “Sermons”
8, and an un-identifiable section (号類) 49 poems.
547
Ikkyū, Kyōun-shū, No 75, in Ichikawa, ed., Ikkyū Sōjun: Kyōun-shū, 1991, 296. The Shaolin temple is read
Shōrin-ji in Japanese.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
This poem contains a complex web of allusions. It begins with one (isshi) shakuhachi,548
saying that it is hard to withstand (tae-gatashi) the sadness (urami) that is contained in, or
can be expressed with, the instrument. By playing this instrument (fuite), one can enter into
the sad and sorrowful timbre of the flute played in the northern provinces of China: The
word koka refers to a reed flute, hujia in Chinese, played by the people in these remote
parts,549 and saijō no gin refers to a song (gin) heard on top of the fortification (saijō), or
more concretely, on top of the Great Wall in the far north.550 Ichikawa relates this part to the
poem “Hujiage” (The Song of the Hujia), by the poet Cen Shen (715–770).551 Here an
imagery of the sad and sorrowful timbre of the flute, played by red-haired and blue-eyed
foreigners in the Northern provinces, is used to convey a sense of the sadness when a dear
friend departs for distant places. The following is an excerpt in a Japanese translation –
“Koka no uta” – given by Ichikawa in a supplementary note:
君聞かずや胡茄の声最もかなしきを。紫髯緑眼、胡人吹く。之を吹いて一曲猶未だ了らざるに、愁
殺す桜蘭〔地方名〕征戍の児〔地方の守備に遠征する兵たち〕。 ... 秦山遥かに望む隴山の雲、辺
城夜夜愁夢多し。月に向って胡茄、誰か聞くを喜ばん 552
kimi kikazu ya, koka no koe mottomo kanashiki o. shizenryokugan, kojin fuku. kore o fuite
ikkyoku nao imada owarazaru ni, shūsatsu su ōran seiju no ji. [...] shinzan haruka ni
nozomu rōzan no kumo, henjō yoyo shūmu ōshi. tsuki ni mukatte koka, ta ga kiku wo
yorokoban.
Have you not heard the sad voice of the koka? It is played by the red-haired and
blue-eyed foreigners in the Northern provinces. The soldiers sent to defend the Ōran
province lament before they even finish playing one piece … [Leaving] Shinzan, with the
commanding view of the clouds over the distant Rōzan, at the border fortress there will
be night after night with many dreams of loneliness. When the foreigners in the north
face the moon and play their koka, who would then rejoice in listening [to this sad and
sorrowful sound]?
The final line of Ikkyū’s poem refers to the Shaolin temple, the legendary dwelling place
of Bodhidharma,553 and the foreigners mentioned in this song could be an allusion to
Bodhidharma, who himself was a foreigner in China: a possible connection between the
sound of the flute and the teaching of Bodhidharma, but also to the emotional sides of life,
sadness and loneliness far away from loved ones.
The third line of Ikkyū’s poem begins with “at the crossroads” (jūjigaitō), and continues
with a question about whose tune it is (ta ga uji no kyoku zo). The phrase jūjigaitō appears
in Rinzai-roku, in relation to a person who has to make a choice: this way or that? In
Rinzai-roku, Episode seven of “Sermons from the Pulpit,” this is exemplified in that one
way leads to the Vimalakīrti Nirdeśa Sūtra, probably written in the first century CE,
548
shi is a counter for long and narrow objects, like the shakuhachi.
549
DAIJIRIN, koka: p. 847.
550
The word sainai (塞内) means ‘on the inside of the Great Wall,’ and saigai (塞外) ‘on the outside of the Great
Wall,’ thus saijō (塞上) refers to ‘on top of the Great Wall.’
551
J. Shinshin or Shinjin, 岑参, a Tang dynasty poet. The poem: J. “Koka no uta”, 胡茄の歌. Shinshin lived in the
desert in Western China for a period of his life, and based on his experiences there he wrote a collection called (in
my translation) Poems from the Outskirts of the Great Wall (J. Saigaishi, 塞外詩,), in which the poem “Koka no uta”
is included.
552
In Ichikawa, ed., Ikkyū Sōjun: Kyōun-shū, 1991, 426.
553
In the Zen tradition, Bodhidharma is considered to be the founder of Zen (Chan) Buddhism in China.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
komosō were low-ranking beggar-monks (cf. Chapter 6) must have been of less importance
compared to the possiblility of making this Zen-shakuhachi connection.
In “Kyotaku denki” Fuke is portrayed with references to his famous saying (myōtō-rai
myōtō-da, antō-rai antō-da, …), and the ringing of his bell. According to the legend, it was
the bell of Fuke that gave rise to the kyotaku tradition, i.e., the shakuhachi tradition. This
bell is mentioned in the Rinzai-roku, and related to in two of the three poems by Ikkyū that I
quote below. Fuke asked people in the streets to give him a monk’s robe, which they did,
but Fuke did not accept it. Rinzai heard about this, and ordered a coffin to be made. Rinzai
gave the coffin to Fuke with the words “Here, I have made you a monk’s robe.” Fuke took
the coffin on his shoulders, and went off saying: “Rinzai made me a monk’s robe.
Tomorrow I will go to the East Gate and die there.” The next day, everybody had gathered
at the East Gate, but Fuke said, “I will not do it today. Tomorrow I will go to the South Gate
and die there.” This continued for three days, and no one believed him anymore; on the
fourth day not a single person had come. Fuke went into the coffin, and asked a passer-by to
nail the lid firmly. Soon the rumour spread, and people gathered. They opened the lid of the
coffin, but Fuke had vanished. In the air, the gradually fainter sound of a bell was all that
could be heard.562 In poem Number 111 of Kyōun-shū, Ikkyū makes allusions to this bell.
The first stanza refers to the boundaries (kyōkai) of the senses, but the word kyōgai can
also mean one’s own environment and circumstances, i.e., the world as each individual
experiences it through what we can see and hear (kenmon). To the utmost extent (hanahada),
this world has no ends (tan nashi); there are no places where we can get a firm grip on it.
The clear voice faintly in the cold refers of course to Fuke’s bell, implying also a sense of
chill in the body (samukeshi). The methods (shudan) of the old man (rō-kan) were full of
energy and life (katsu). In the last stanza, again the bell of Fuke is alluded to: it hangs
(tōzaisu) on the railing (rankan) of noble origin, ornamented, or belonging to a person of
high rank (gyoku-), and it hits the railing harmonizing (washite) with the wind (kaze), i.e.,
each time when there is a burst of wind. In this poem Ikkyū aligns the borders of the world
of our senses with the bell of Fuke. This bell was, through his various means and deeds, a
way to wake people to realize the real essence of the world. Ichikawa Hakugen notes that
the last two characters in the first stanza, meaning “no ends” (無端) could also carry the
meaning of the circle image often used by Zen monks to describe the essence of
enlightenment and the true shape of the mind.564
562
Iriya, transl., Rinzai-roku, 2010, 175–177.
563
Ikkyū, Kyōun-shū, No 111, Ichikawa, ed., Ikkyū Sōjun: Kyōun-shū, 1991, 306.
564
Ichikawa, ed., Ikkyū Sōjun: Kyōun-shū, 1991, 306. (一円相).
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The bell of Fuke is referred to also in poem Number 126, titled “Praising Fuke.”
Here Ikkyū is making a direct comparison with two monks, Tokusan (782–865)566 and
Rinzai, known for their fierce ways of conducting their teaching. What if they were to travel
together, what would that be like (dōan o ikan)? Well, people who gathered in the streets
and the towns they visited would be surprised by Fuke’s crazy words and conduct (fūten).567
In the third stanza Ikkyū compares the parting of Fuke with the (more or less spectacular)
parting of many Zen monks before him, whether they were sitting or standing.568 Many of
them (ōshi) have shortcomings (haiketsu) compared with Fuke in this respect. I would
interpret the last stanza as denoting a number of bells dedicated for use in front of the
Buddha (hōrei), i.e., a number of denominations, ringing in harmony with Fuke’s bell, i.e.,
the true learning, which can be heard faintly, i.e., even though it is the true learning, it is not
the mainstream learning of Zen Buddhism. Ikkyū praises Fuke’s eccentric and odd ways of
teaching, including the way he parted this world, and holds him above the more famous
monks mentioned here.
Ikkyū was a Rinzai Zen Buddhist, but even within this school, he seems to have had an
especially keen eye for Fuke. In the last poem I quote here, Ikkyū allocates to Fuke’s style a
position at the centre of Zen Buddhism, which would be in line with my interpretation of the
previous poem. Poem Number 588 in Kyōun-shū, “Fuke the Monk,” reads like this:
The first stanza includes a quote of Fuke’s famous saying (cf. Section 4.1) as it is told in
the Rinzai-roku: “Attacked from the light I hit back in the light, attacked from the dark I hit
back in the dark …” The connection to Fuke is obvious, as well as the fact that Ikkyū holds
565
Ikkyū, Kyōun-shū, No 126, Ichikawa, ed., Ikkyū Sōjun: Kyōun-shū, 1991, 310–311. Fuke o sansu (賛普化).
566
C. Te-shan, known for his hard discipline, often hitting the disciples with a stick. Tokusan Senkan (徳山宣鑑).
567
It reads 風顚 but I assume this is an alternative writing of 瘋癲, meaning ‘insanity,’ or generally an abnormal
mental condition. Also in poem 588 below.
568
How a Zen monk dies is one aspect of his teaching.
569
Ikkyū, Kyōun-shū, No 588, Ichikawa, ed., Ikkyū Sōjun: Kyōun-shū, 1991, 366. Fuke Oshō (普化和尚). I have also
consulted Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi, 1997, 220.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
Fuke’s awkward ways of conduct in high esteem. Even though the scheme of the old Zen
monk (rōzen no saryaku) confuses people (hito o urewa-shimu), the crazy conduct (fūten)570
of Fuke (kan refers here simply to a ‘man’) has been the same through the ages (nendai),
from old times until now (ko-ō kon-rai), and this is the one and only tradition (ippūryū) of
the doctrine (shūmon); I interpret this as ‘our’ doctrine from Ikkyū’s point of view.
The author Takeda Kyōson (cf. page 162) interprets this poem in a different way. He
asserts that Fuke’s crazy behaviour is a way to wash off the vulgar and worldly-minded
aspects of the Zen doctrine (zenmon), and add elegance to the essence of Zen (zen no
honshitsu ni miyabiyakasa o ataeru). He also adds a sociological interpretation of Ikkyū’s
writing: He reads nendai as “in our time,” reaching a conclusion that what Ikkyū wants to
say is that Fuke pretended his awkward ways, and that it is only by taking an oblique
position that one can cut into a society turned into strife, which was the situation in Japan
during the latter half of the fifteenth century.571 This is a possible interpretation, but my
belief is that Ikkyū was more concerned about the doctrine as such, in a philosophical
manner, rather than its social aspects. I am not convinced that Ikkyū perceived ‘vulgarism’
and worldly-mindedness as something that should be washed off and replaced with elegance.
On the contrary, I believe that Ikkyū would embrace these aspects of life, as something that
holds the essence of Zen. Some of Ikkyū’s more colloquial writings give an indication of
this, for example the following poems, in translation by R. H. Blyth:
Ikkyū seems to have been instrumental in creating the connection between Fuke,
shakuhachi, and Zen, but there are no historical records of Ikkyū actually playing the
shakuhachi, apart from what we may interpret as circumstantial proof in some of his
colloquial poems (cf. Section 7.2 below).
As a comparison and in contrast to the writings of Ikkyū, some other sources, which were
more or less contemporary with Ikkyū, were ‘rejected’ by the early komusō. I argue that this
probably was due to the fact that these sources did not constitute sufficient support for the
existence of the komusō.
570
See poem Number 126 above. (瘋癲).
571
Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi, 1997, 220.
572
Blyth, Zen and Zen Classics: Vol. Five, 1974, 164. (釈迦といふいたづらものが世にいでておほくの人をまよはするかな).
573
Ibid., 165. (嘘をつきぢごくへおつるものならばなきことつくるしゃかいかにせん).
574
Ibid. (そのま々にうまれながらの心こそねかはすとても仏なるべし).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
4.5.2.1 Taigen-shō
Taigen-shō is a treatise on gagaku, the Japanese court music, of which the shakuhachi was
part up to the middle of the ninth century. After that, the court music was reformed and the
shakuhachi disappeared (cf. Section 3.2). Taigen-shō was written in 1512, by the court
music performer Toyohara Sumiaki. In this treatise there is one chapter devoted to the
shakuhachi, where the older history of the shakuhachi and its position in the music world of
that time is explained. This chapter can therefore be regarded as the oldest historical survey
of the shakuhachi. It was most likely known by the Edo-period literate public, including the
komusō-to-be, but it is not referred to in the invention of a tradition in the Edo period. In the
twentieth-century secondary writings it is, however, often referred to. In Taigen-shō, the
shakuhachi is connected to Buddhism, to the court, including Shōtoku Taishi, and also to
the early stages of Nō music, i.e., dengaku. The Taigen-shō was an attempt by Toyohara to
save a record of the music guild in the midst of the crisis that had dawned on classical music
after the Ōnin no ran, the War of Ōnin.575 This civil war began in 1467, and continued
around the capital until 1477, after which it spread out into the provinces, where the battles
continued until the close of the fifteenth century. The Ashikaga shōgunate indulged in
luxury, and the Imperial House was poverty-stricken. Neither were attacked because they
were deemed impotent, and did not constitute any danger. The imperial poverty reached its
nadir around 1500, when there was not even enough money to bury the deceased emperor,
and no money for the ceremony to inaugurate his sucessor.576 Under these circumstances
Toyohara tried to save the court music from extinction and oblivion. Connections to older
history, Shōtoku Taishi, to the court in general, and of course to the Nō theatre that was
admired by the warrior class, must have had high priority on his agenda.
Both Taigen-shō and the three-hundred-years earlier Kyōkun-shō relate an obscure origin
of the shakuhachi, in all likelihood connected to the statements in Kyōkun-shō that the
shakuhachi was played by sarugaku – monkey music – performers. According to this story,
the shakuhachi was made out of the humerus of a monkey.
In a book it is said that a long time ago, in the western provinces, [some] shakuhachi
player found the sound of the monkey to be felicitous, and took one shaku eight sun of
the humerus to make a shakuhachi, and for the first time played it.577
In Taigen-shō, this story is further developed, saying that the sound of a monkey in the
mountains of a western country in China was so appealing that no one who heard it could
hold his or her tears back, and it moved people to a will to comply with the Buddhist path.
Princes left the Imperial House, all the noblemen left their official duties and secluded
575
KOKUGO, Vol. 15, toyohara sumiaki: p. 39.
576
Sansom, Japan: A Short Cultural History (1931), 1985, 368–369.
577
Koma Chikazane, Kyōkun-shō (1233), 1973, 156. (或書云、尺八者、昔シ西国ニ有ケル猿ノ鳴音、目出カリケル、臂ノ骨
一尺八寸ヲ取テ造テ、始テ吹タリケル也。).
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
In our family lineage, the late Kazuaki was an accomplished [shakuhachi performer]! It is
said that he performed at ceremonies preceding hōjō-e,579 lowered his head and followed
the little creatures to the top of the mountain, where they held a feast; he played to make
deer come closer, and when he played tens of thousands of insects would always gather.
This is something that could not be doubted. Atsuaki, of a collateral lineage, was a
student of Kazuaki. The dengaku performer named Zōami was also a student of Kazuaki.
After Kazuaki’s premature death, Zōami learned from Atsuaki. Zōami discussed our
illustrations with Atsuaki and finalized them.580
Kazuaki died in 1441, and he was three generations before Sumiaki, i.e., Sumiaki’s
great-grandfather. Kamisangō includes the passage above, as does the historian Hosaka
Hirooki. In both of these writings it is stated that the dengaku performers claimed that the
shakuhachi was their instrument, but Sumiaki asserts that this is not true.581 Zōami and his
successors had studied with the Toyohara family, which was in possession of the original
illustrations, but Zōami had made copies of them at the temple Higashi-yama Reizan.582
Thus, in 1512 the shakuhachi is described as an instrument of gagaku, but also in
competition with dengaku Nō performers. After Taigen-shō, and the succeeding Maikyoku
kuden written by Toyohara Sumiaki two years before his death in 1524, there are – to my
knowledge – no references to the shakuhachi appearing at the court, or in any similar
circumstances.
578
Toyohara, Taigen-shō (1512), Vol. 5, “Shakuhachi.” Also in Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 26. (此事
ヲ委注テ云、唐ニ西國ノ山ニアリケル猿ノナク聲奇妙ナリ、聞人皆涙ヲナガスノミナラズ道心ノ志イデキテ、太子ハ宮ヲ去リ諸卿
ハ宮職ヲステ々山寺ニコモリ、道人商客ニ至マテ皆無常ノ理ヲ催スコト數百人ナリ).
579
A religious ceremony in which living creatures are released into ponds or the woods.
580
Toyohara, Taigen-shō (1512), Vol. 5, “Shakuhachi.” (當家ニハ故量秋堪能ナリケルトカヤ放生會試楽ニ下向シテ山上之
兒達同道シテ梅尾焼尾ナント々テ鹿ヲ吹ヨセ侍ル必ス吹ハ万虫アツマルナント申 コレハ不可疑事ナリ他流ノ敦秋モ量秋弟子ナリ
田楽増阿ト云シモノハ量秋弟子ナリ早世ノ後ハ敦秋ニ習テ我図ヲ敦秋ニ云アワセテ定テ畢).
581
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 72.
582
Hosaka, “Jūnana seiki ni okeru komusō no seisei,” 1994, 175–176.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
At the end of the fifteenth century there are remarks about beggar-monks, komosō,
playing the shakuhachi. In a collection of rules and regulations issued by the Ōuchi clan,
these komosō are regarded as persona non grata, and a hardly cultivated komosō is also
depicted in the Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase, a scroll painting of artisans, from 1494 (cf.
Chapter 6). In 1500 the so-called boro-boro monks that appear in the fourteenth-century
Tsurezure-gusa (among other texts) are also depicted in another scroll painting of artisans,
the Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase (cf. Chapter 5). In the early seventeenth century,
some hundred years after Taigen-shō and these other sources, the boro-boro and komosō are
given equal footing. Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi, discussed in Section 4.5.3 below, is probably
the earliest source that equates these two types of monks. Before proceeding to
Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi there are, however, a few popular appearances of the shakuhachi
during the sixteenth century that need attention, to show the breadth of the contemporary
shakuhachi community and what possible historical connections were turned down by the
komusō at the time of the creation of their origins, what aspects of a possible ‘dynamic
hearsay’ they preferred not to include.
21 Dengaku
我らも持ちたる尺八を、袖の下より取り出し、暫しは吹いて松の風、花をや夢と誘ふらん、いつま
でかこの尺八、吹いて心を慰めん。587
warera mo mochitaru shakuhachi o, sode no shita yori tori-idashi, shibashi wa fuite matsu
no kaze, hana o yume to sasouran, itsumadeka kono shakuhachi, fuite kokoro o
nagusamen.
I have also brought my shakuhachi, which I take out from my sleeve. I blow it for a while,
waiting, and the wind blows through the pine, scattering flowers as in a dream. How long
should I have to play this shakuhachi, before my heart comes to ease?
583
Didactic poems in the Japanese style waka, often with a Buddhist content. (道歌).
584
Kitagawa, Muromachi kouta no sekai, 1991, 247.
585
Kangin-shū (1518, anonymous), in Kitagawa, ed., Kangin-shū, Sōan kouta-shū, 1991, 16. (… 尺八を友として …).
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 74.
586
Kangin-shū (1518), in Kitagawa, ed., Kangin-shū, Sōan kouta-shū, 1991, 15.
587
Ibid., 27–28.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
The first stanza is explained as “Me, too, brought my shakuhachi” in the annotation. The
end of the third stanza, matsu no kaze, carries a double-meaning: matsu can mean ‘pine’ as
the character written here indicates, but it also alludes to the verb ‘waiting,’ with the same
pronunciation. The blowing of the shakuhachi is turned to the blowing of the wind in the
next stanza, “Is it the flowers, blowing in the wind, that are invited to the dream?”
Kitagawa Tadahiko comments that this song could be a verse from the dengaku Nō piece
“Shakuhachi no nō,” a piece that exists in name only. Kitagawa further explains: “Also in
the Kyōgen piece ‘Rakuami’ there is a stanza that reads ‘I also bring the shakuhachi and
take it out from my robe, and then I play this shakuhachi until my heart is full,’ which is
similar to this text.”588 Zeami Motokiyo, the father of Nō as we know it today, was a
sarugaku Nō performer. In the Sarugaku dangi there is a note about how Zeami praised
Zōami – the dengaku Nō performer mentioned in Taigen-shō and one of Zeami’s
contemporary competitors – for his excellent recitation skills in a performance of a Nō
drama with the name “Shakuhachi.”589
Shakuhachi is also mentioned in some of the popular kouta:
177 Kouta
590
咎もない尺八を、枕にかたりと投げ当てても、淋しや独り寝
The shakuhachi does not have anything to be rebuked for, and still the poet/singer throws
it at the pillow. The sound is a short, hard sound, described with the onomatopoeic word
katari, indicating that it was a wooden pillow, used to put under the neck in order not to
affect the hair styling. Here the words makura ni katari could also be read with the
double-meaning of “talking to the pillow,” further enhancing the sense of loneliness. But,
tossing the shakuhachi does not help to take away the lonely feeling of sleeping alone.
276 Kouta
591
待つと吹けども、恨みつつ吹けども、篇ないものは、尺八ぢゃ
The verb matsu, which appears also in song 21 above, refers here to waiting for a loved
one, or waiting with a heart full of love-stricken emotions, and the poet/singer plays the
shakuhachi when in such circumstances. On the other hand s/he also plays when love has
588
Kitagawa, Kangin-shū, Sōan kouta-shū, 1991, 27. (狂言『楽阿弥』にも「我も持ちたる尺八を、懐よりも取り出し、この
尺八を吹きしむる)という、これと似た詞章がある。).
589
Zeami Motoyoshi, Sarugaku dangi (1830), 1973, 488. Translated in Rimer and Yamazaki, On the Art of the Nō
Drama, 1984, 175–176. This piece may be the same as that to which Kitagawa refers.
590
Kangin-shū (1518), 1991, 98–99.
591
Ibid., 142.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
turned into hate or bitterness, grudge or resentment. In all these circumstances, that which is
of no use, which does not help in any of these situations, is the shakuhachi.
The aim here is not to expound on the literary qualities of these poems, but the songs are
of a fairly simple structure, without complicated allusions to classical literature. This may
indicate the popularity among ordinary people, not studied in the classics.
There is one kouta in Sōan kouta-shū relating to shakuhachi. The year of completion or
compilation is unknown, but judging from its content and style Kitagawa Tadahiko places it
later than Kangin-shū, but slightly before the Ryūtatsu kouta, i.e., approximately around the
latter half of the sixteenth century.592
81 Kouta
593
憂き人を、尺八に彫り込めて、時々吹かばや、恋の薬に
In the two sections 4.5.1 and 4.5.2 I have indicated a number of possible connections that
the Edo period komusō may have used in the creation of an origin. They probably made a
connection to Ikkyū, due to his liking both for the shakuhachi and for the Zen of the monk
Fuke. All of these instances, however, relate to the shorter and popular hitoyogiri
shakuhachi, and the heavier root-end instrument that came to be the instrument used by the
komusō had yet not developed. In the next section I turn to a discussion of connections
between the Edo period komusō and the earlier monastic types, komosō and boro-boro,
which are evident in historical records.
592
Kitagawa, Muromachi kouta no sekai, 1991, 251–252.
593
Sōan kouta-shū (late 16th century, anonymous), in Kitagawa, ed., Kangin-shū, Sōan kouta-shū, 1991, 184.
594
Linda H. Chance, “Constructing the Classic: …,” 1997, 41.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
a requirement in order to teach a new commoner audience in the early seventeenth century,
and Tsurezure-gusa, written by a man as it was, became the natural choice for
commentators and teachers of the time, according to Haruo Shirane.595 Chance asserts that
“[t]here were many earnest ventures to bridge the gap in material and textual knowledge
between Kenkō’s fourteenth-century contemporaries and his new fans, both townspeople
and samurai,”596 and the first commentary was published in 1604, authored by Hata Sōha.597
There is, to my knowledge, no comment about the boro or komo in this text, and the earliest
reference that equates these monastic types is in Hayashi Dōshun Razan’s annotation to the
original text, Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi, dated 1621.598 The original Tsurezure-gusa – in itself
and through the annotated publications – had a strong impact on people in all strata of
society. Linda Chance comments on this in the following words.
Hayashi Razan refers to the boro-boro that appear in Episode 115 of Tsurezure-gusa (cf.
Chapter 5), and after having stated that the boro-boro in Tsurezure-gusa also appear in the
book Boro-boro no sōshi (cf. Section 5.2), he connects the boro with the sixteenth-century
komosō (cf. Chapter 6).
After [the boro-boro] there appeared monks called komosō, not looking like monks, not
looking like laymen, and not looking like ascetic monks, carrying a sword, playing
shakuhachi, and with a straw mat on their backs. They walked around the streets,
stopping at people’s doors begging. The tradition has it that this is the style of the
boro-boro.600
595
Shirane, “Introduction,” 2000, 10.
596
Linda H. Chance, “Constructing the Classic: …,” 1997, 42.
597
A physician, who wrote the commentary Tsurezure-gusa jumyōin-shō (徒然草寿命院抄). (秦宗巴, 1550–1608).
Nihon jinmei daijiten, accessed from Japan Knowledge on February 28, 2011.
598
Hayashi Dōshun Razan (林道春羅山 1583–1657). First name Nobukatsu (信勝). Razan was a prominent Confucian
scholar who exercised a heavy influence on the Confucian doctrine during the Edo period in Japan as a propagator
of the Neo-confucian shushigaku (朱子学). (徒然草野槌).
According to Linda Chance, Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi was printed in 1667. (Linda H. Chance, “Constructing the
Classic: …,” 1997, 42).
599
Ibid., 41.
600
Hayashi Razan, Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi (1621), 1968, 124.
(宿河原 摂津國 ぼろ々々 … 其後に薦僧と云もの僧とも見えず俗とも見えず山伏ともみえず刀をさし尺八を吹せなかにむしろを
おひ道路をありき人の門戸に立て物を乞もらふ是ぼろ々々の流也と云傳へたり).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Hayashi continues his comments about the boro-boro in Tsurezure-gusa, stating that they
have thrown away worldly affairs, seemingly following the way of Buddha, but that at the
same time they are filled with egotism (gashū fukaku) and have a liking for strife (tōsō
konomu), which in content follows what Yoshida Kenkō writes in the original text. Hayashi
continues by asserting that the boro-boro are poor people, trying not to be noticed (benjin =
mienu hito), begging for scraps (issen o ete), and bringing home (osamuru) a handful
(ichiitsu). Since they like fighting, they do not give much regard to the possibility that they
could die suddenly, and it is as if they threw themselves into trouble (higa no hi ni iru ga
gotoshi). They do have a reputation of practicing the way of Buddha, but think little of
worldly teaching.601 In Episode 115 of Tsurezure-gusa two boro-boro meet in a duel,
because one of them wishes to take revenge on his teacher, who was killed by the opponent
in this episode. Yoshida Kenkō finds this wish for revenge, with one’s own life at stake, to
be an appealing characteristic of the boro-boro. Hayashi evaluates Yoshida Kenkō’s
appreciation of the boro-boro in the following words:
Kenkō values the frankness with which the boro-boro took revenge for his master,
willingly giving up his own life. That is the essence of this episode. Those who forget to
take revenge for their masters and fathers, and run away to places where a warrior would
not go, they are inferior to the character of the boro-boro.602
Hayashi, as the Confucian he is, gives ample respect to the willingness of the boro-boro
to sacrifice their own lives: “Retainers should be loyal and show respect to their masters. …
In case of a serious situation for the master, it is the duty of a retainer to sacrifice his own
life.”603
Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi was written in 1621, published in 1648, and printed in 1667.
Considering the facts that (1) Hayashi Razan was one of the most influential Confucianists
connected to the central authorities (bakufu), and (2) Tsurezure-gusa was one of the most
influential books of the early Edo period, it seems highly unlikely that Razan’s commentary
to Tsurezure-gusa should not have been known before its publication in 1648. My
hypothesis is that this was the case, and from that assumption I argue that the positive
evaluation of the boro-boro in Razan’s writing, and in effect also of the komosō, were
known, and highly welcomed, by the early seventeenth-century komusō.
601
Ibid. (誠にその口を餬ひありきて朝に一銭を得て暮に一溢をおさむる 人なり一旦溘死することを何ともおもはぬ故に闘諍をこのみて
飛蛾の火に入がことし佛道を修する云名はあれど其弊如此に至ることも世教のためを思はざるひがことよりおこれりされど).
602
Ibid., 124. (ぼろ々々が其師のために仇をむくひて死を快くすることのいさぎよきを兼好がとれる此段の本意なり世の人の君父
の仇を忘れ武夫のひくまじき處をにげはしるはぼろ々々の有さまにおとれり).
603
Hayashi Razan, Shunkan-shō, 1975, 128. (臣タル人ハ、君ニ忠ヲツクシ敬ヲツクスガ宜キ処ゾ。… 君ノ一大事ニハ一命ヲ
モハタスハ、臣ノ義ゾ。).
604
一糸和尚.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
of the Edo period Fuke sect. It should, however, be noted that Nakatsuka in his research
found that the three main temple (Reihō-ji and Ichigetsu-ji around Edo, and Myōan-ji in
Kyoto) at this time were nothing more than lodges for mendicant monks. The document is
in the possession of Kōkoku-ji, the temple that was established by Hottō Kokushi, who
according to legend brought the shakuhachi to Japan from China in the middle of the
thirteenth century (cf. Section 4.1 above). In the text there are passages referring to Fuke as
well as Hottō Kokushi. There are references to shakuhachi, and to the four devoted men that
Gakushin (Hottō Kokushi) supposedly brought with him. Furthermore, one reads: “There
are not many who do their practice, and it is only [for me] to preserve the religious precepts;
… nine out of ten are not devoted to following the original doctrine. They just run from east
to west in vain, roaming around from door to door,”605 indicating a lack of interest in any
sincere religious activities. Interesting enough, however, is the fact that the word komu,
written with the characters 虚無, appears together with ‘true origin’ (hongen), ‘nature’
(shizen), and the four devouted men who supposedly followed Hottō Kokushi back to Japan
(yonin). At the end, the author dedicates the text to the head monk Sandō Mugetsu, adding
the title komusō.606 The names of Fuke and Hottō Kokushi also appear in the text, and this is
probably the earliest record of komusō, Fuke and Hottō Kokushi being mentioned together.
Considering their (lack of sincere) activities, it seems highly plausible that those who
took part as komusō at the time were more interested in having a function that they could
fulfill at their own will. The sect, if it was so systemized as to be called a sect, is referred to
as komu shizen. Nakatsuka interprets this in such a fashion, that the name may have been, if
there was at all a need for a name at the time, komu-shū or komu shizen-shū, meaning the
Komu sect or Komu Natural sect. The name Fuke sect is, however, not used.
The word komusō, written with the characters 古無僧, meaning ‘old nothingness monk,’
appears in the Keichō kenmon-shū,607 a collection of anecdotes in ten volumes by Miura
Jōshin (1565–1644), from the time when Tokugawa Ieyasu entered Edo until 1614608 – the
nineteenth year of the Keichō era – which was also the year that the “Keichō okite-gaki” is
supposed to have been authored. According to the references, the work is dated 1614, but it
also relates events from 1624–1644. It is therefore difficult to conclude when this reference
is from. In the same text, the story about the ruffian Ōtori Itsubei (cf. Section 3.2.4) is told,
with reference to the shakuhachi of a komusō (古無僧).609
In 1628 a text referred to as “Kaidō honsoku” (The Kaidō Rules), also mentioned in
Section 4.3.1 above, was written. This text comes seven years after Hayashi Razan had
written his Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi, and thirty years after the text by Isshi Oshō. The text
begins with Hottō Kokushi, recounting that he brought with him four devoted men when he
returned to Japan. It says that the “Kaidō honsoku” comes from Yura in Kii no Kuni, where
Kōkoku-ji, the temple established by Hottō Kokushi, is located. 610 The text is in a
question-answer style, beginning with where the komo (komosō) comes from, referring to
605
Translated from Nakatsuka’s comment. Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 269–270. (然
りと雖も今時修行少しく戒律を保つのみ、其人となりを顧れば十の九は宗旨の本源に徹せず、東走西奔空しく人の門戸に彷うのみ).
606
Ibid., 269. (示虚無僧為山堂無月菴主).
607
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 191.
608
NIPPONICA and ENCYCLOP: keichō kenmonshū. (Accessed on May 26, 2011). (慶長見聞集/三浦浄心).
609
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 191.
610
Present day Wakayama prefecture and the southern parts of Mie prefecture.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
the honsoku, the basic doctrine of the monks, i.e., Fuke’s myōtō-rai myōtō-da, … “Where
does the komo come from? It says antō-rai ya, so did they come from a dark country? It
says myōtō-rai ya, so did they come from a light country? The hat that the komo wear looks
suspicious! It is called a tengai,” and so on, explaining regulations about clothing, and, not
the least, their “priceless treasure,” the shakuhachi.611 Nakatsuka argues that the deep
basket-type hat, tengai, which is referred to in some versions of the “Keichō okite-gaki” did
not come into common use until the 1760s (cf. Section 4.2.2.2 above). Nakatsuka’s
argument is based on the lack of images or explanations indicating the use of a braided hat
that covers the whole face before the 1760s, and he concludes that this deep basket-type of
hat was not in use before the wood-block prints by Suzuki Harunobu. The hat referred to
here is named tengai, but it is explained only as a kasa, the normal bamboo shade common
in East Asia.612 There is a reference to the temples of the various komosō factions (cf.
Section 4.3.1 above), and the document is signed with boro.613 Before the listing of temples,
there is a poem that reads:
尺八ノ声ノ内ナル隠レカハ
宮城野ニ吹春ノ風カナ 614
This poem seems to allude to another one by the komosō in the 1494 scroll painting of
artisans with attached poems, Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase, discussed in Chapter 6
below, which ends by suggesting that it is not the spring breeze that blows, but the
shakuhachi of the komosō.
4.5.4 Conclusions
From the texts and documents discussed above, the komusō of the Edo period made use of
dynamic hearsay, obscure citations, in order to carve out their own origin. The fact that they
were nobility of the warrior class is clear from the later documents, especially – and almost
over-stated – in the “Keichō okite-gaki.” As indicated in Section 4.3, their activities in the
cities were more and more inclined towards worldly affairs. There is no substantiating
evidence to prove that the komusō were knowledgeable about the content of the Taigen-shō,
but it would at least seem plausible that they were. None of the texts or documents relating
to komusō carry any reference to this work, or any other work to which the Taigen-shō
611
“Kaidō honsoku” in Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 271. (薦ハ何クカラ来テソフロ、暗頭
来也、暗キ国カラカ、明頭来也、明ナル国から歟、コモノカムッリタル笠ニ不審カ候ヨ、ソレ天蓋トモ申ナリ、…).
612
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 271. (コモノカムリタル笠ニ不審カ候ヨ、ソレ天蓋トモ申ナリ).
613
Ibid., 271–274.
614
Ibid., 272.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
refers second-hand, which is an indication that the aim of the komusō was to find a suitable
origin that fit their purposes.
In the document written by Ishi Oshō of 1598 and in the “Kaidō honsoku” there is a mix
of names for the monks. In the former, the word komusō is used, but that word is not used in
“Kaidō honsoku.” The reason for not using komusō could be one of the following two: (1)
the monks were not in agreement about what to call themselves, or (2) after Hayashi
Razan’s text, the monks preferred to employ the words used in the reference by this highly
esteemed Confucian scholar to a work of high authoritative status, Yoshida Kenkō’s
Tsurezure-gusa. The second conclusion builds on my hypothesis that the content of Razan’s
commentary Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi was more or less publicly known in the 1620s.
The fact that the komusō were not generally known as such in Shichiku shoshin-shū of
1664 is indicative that they had not, at that time, become a larger and unified group of
samuari-monks, and even less so in the early seventeenth century. However, the fact that
Hayashi Razan had heard of komosō, and equated them with boro, indicates that they may
have been known within the governmental bodies of the early Edo period. We can only
guess what reasons Razan had to equate the boro and the komosō, but that the monks used
his text for their own purposes seems evident.
Razan does not refer to komusō, as in Isshi Oshō’s text from 1598. The word komusō
does not appear again until the 1664 Shichiku shoshin-shū and the 1677 memorandum –
apart from the short remarks in Keichō kenmon-shū of 1614 or 1624–1644 (cf. Section
4.5.3.2 above). These facts, thus, constitute a strong indication that the name komusō was
not clearly defined until the latter half of the seventeenth century. The extant documents do
not support a notion that the komosō developed into komusō, or that the komusō took over
the position of the komosō. It seems more plausible that the komusō adopted the activities of
the komosō, i.e., to play shakuhachi while begging, for their own purposes. Thus, the change
from komosō to komusō was not a fusion, but an appropriation of activities; the komosō lost
their livelyhood and became extinct. Chapter 6 contains a thorough analysis of the komosō,
which indicates that the komosō and the komusō had quite different characteristics.
Assuming that Nakatsuka’s thorough research constitutes historical facts, there seems to
be but one conclusive explanation to the legendary background of the komusō monks in the
latter half of the seventeenth century: already in the Azuchi-Momoyama period
(1568–1598), the number of rōnin increased, and in a quest for an existence, the masterless
samurai found a suitable position in presenting the appearance of outcast mendicant monks,
komosō. As I show in Chapter 6 below, the komosō cannot be said to have been serious,
devout Buddhists, and they were far more on the lower side of the contemporary society. In
order to carve out an existence, a way to support themselves, the rōnin began creating an
origin that would give them a more respectable position.
A possible interpretation of the force behind the creation of an origin, thus, is one of a
dire need. The circumstances that led to the writings by Isshi and the issuance of the “Kaidō
honsoku,” i.e., the Poietic Processes in the creation of a dynamic hearsay, could well have
been fed by earlier appearances, e.g., in Ikkyū Sōjun’s poems, of authoritative individuals,
who were too obscure or too far away in history to be traceable. Fuke, mentioned in
Rinzai-roku, and held in high esteem by Ikkyū, was perfect as a komosō model, but by using
the near phonetic-equivalent reading komusō, Isshi may have attempted to elevate the status
of the beggar-monks he probably knew first-hand. The Poietic Processes that resulted in the
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“Kaidō honsoku” are, on the other hand, more closely related to Razan. Even though a
Monk of Nothingness and Emptiness, i.e., a komusō, has the proper Buddhist connotations,
to use Razan as an identifiable but obscure source must have been of greater weight since
the group was yet not acknowledged or commonly recognized. The older written references
to Fuke and Hottō Kokushi should then be regarded as identifiable sources, but the
connection between them is still kept in obscurity, i.e., Type 2 of Morinaga’s classification.
The dynamic force of the Poietic Processes behind these texts did not materialize fully in
the Esthesic Dimension until the central authorities, in the latter half of the seventeenth
century (cf. Section 4.2.1), felt a need to recognize the komusō.
***
The komusō thus created an origin, with reference to boro and komosō, and it was not
until the twentieth century, more than sixty years after their abolition, that Nakatsuka
questioned their origin. Even though this process was initiated by Mikami Sanji, and
continued by Kurihara Kōta, Nakatsuka disclosed the width of the ‘betrayal.’
Interestingly enough, however, the notion of boro and komosō as the predecessors of the
komusō is still vividly alive today. In the two succeeding chapters I investigate the historical
material pertaining to these two types of monks. In most of the twentieth-century writings,
in works by both scholars and laymen, including the researchers mentioned above, the boro
and komosō are regarded as predecessors to the komusō, a development that supposedly
took place during the Edo period. I argue that this is part of the creation of a dynamic
hearsay. Intentional or not, the connections made are part of the Poietic Processes resulting
in the creation of an older indigenous origin of the komusō after the legendary background
had been proven false. I return to this issue in Chapter 7, after the analyses of the primary
sources that relate to the boro-boro in Chapter 5, and the komosō in Chapter 6.
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Chapter 4 – Constructing Tradition: The Shakuhachi in the Edo Period
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
… it seems that [the boro] were part of the various groups
of religious entertainers that were left undivided, and
there is still room for further examination of the path by
which the boro depicted in the “Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin
uta-awase” became separated from these groups.
In writings about the shakuhachi there appear different types of monks who supposedly had
connections to the shakuhachi or to the seventeenth-century komusō. As discussed in
Chapter 4 above, masterless samurai made use of the central government’s fear of uprisings,
and more or less forced through an official acknowledgement of their sect in the latter half
of the seventeenth century. It is highly likely that the komusō at an early stage – probably
already in the former half of the seventeenth century – used preceding appearances of
monks to create for themselves a position in society, connecting themselves to this older
‘tradition’ (cf. Chapter 4). In this chapter I study the supposed link between the shakuhachi
and one type of Buddhist monks in pre-Edo-period eras, the boro, 615 and discuss the
relevance the boro are given in twentieth-century historical studies. The boro did not play
the shakuhachi, and yet they are referred to as a predecessor to the komusō. The aim of this
chapter is to investigate what the boro – or boro-boro – had in common with other types of
monks that played the shakuhachi, e.g., the komosō of the sixteenth century and the komusō
of the seventeenth century onward.
In music-related lexica, neither ‘boro’ nor ‘boro-boro’ are index words. Under ‘komusō’
one reads, however, that the komusō probably were connected to the mid-thirteenth-century
beggar-monks boro, even though the boro did not play shakuhachi. The explanation
continues that the shakuhachi-playing was incorporated when the boro began to be called
komosō (cf. Chapter 6).616 This entry does not carry any literary references, but such can be
found in other Japanese lexica. The definition of boro, according to the Shōgakukan Kokugo
dai-jiten (Shogakukan Japanese Dictionary), is:
One kind of beggar monks without shaved heads. The boro were later also called komusō,
etc., who wore a braided straw hat that covered their faces and played shakuhachi, while
walking around begging. Boro-boro. Boron-ji.617
615
There are various ways of writing boro with kanji, but the most original seems to be 暮露. These characters for
boro are further discussed in Section 5.2.
616
HHJ, komosō: p. 409.
617
KOKUGO, Vol. 18, boro: p. 222. (有髮の乞食層(こつじきそう)の一種。のちには、深編笠をかぶって尺八を吹きながら
物乞いをして歩いた虚無僧などをいう。ぼろぼろ。ぼろんじ。).
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Chapter 5 – Constructing Tradition: The boro and Shakuhachi
From both of the dictionaries it is clear that the boro did not play shakuhachi, but by
asserting that boro later turned into or became a name for the komosō and the komusō, a
connection to shakuhachi is implied. The references given in the Kokugo dai-jiten are from
(1) Episode 115 of Tsurezure-gusa (Essays of Idleness), written 1330–31 by Yoshida
Kenkō, 618 and (2) Pair forty-six in the 1500 scroll painting Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin
uta-awase (Poetry Contest Between Seventy-one Pairs of Artisans),619 as shown in Plate 14
below. In a commentary to the boro in one of the more recent publications of this scroll
painting, Nishiyama Masaru makes reference to the above-mentioned sources, as well as the
other primary sources discussed below in this chapter. Nishiyama remarks that whether the
boro constituted a separate body of monks, and whether the commonly accepted view that
the boro and the Fuke monks were one and the same, are two issues yet to be clarified,620 a
comment that coincides with the present study.
In the episode in Tsurezure-gusa we read about a duel between two “boro-boro monks,”
meeting at a gathering of prayers to Amida Buddha at Shukugahara. One of the monks was
seeking revenge for the death of his teacher. It ends with a duel where the two monks strike
each other down (ai-uchi) and both of them die. Yoshida Kenkō concludes the following
about what he refers to as boro-boro.
There were no boro-boro in the past. Their origin is the boron-ji, bon-ji, kan-ji and so
forth that we have heard of in recent times. They give the impression of having thrown
this world away, but are in fact highly self-conscious, they give the impression of wishing
to walk the path of Buddha, but make conflict and strife a matter of their concern. As
self-indulgent as they may seem, and though they break the laws of the monk with little
concern or regret, the way in which they take death easily and do not care about anything
gives a positive view of them. In all humbleness I have written down what people say. 621
When the boro-boro first appeared is not obvious from this passage, but “in recent times”
must mean that it was fairly close to the completion of Tsurezure-gusa. We find an earlier
appearance in Towazu-gatari.622 In Volume 4 the following episode is narrated.
Writing poetry I stayed many nights and many days at places where people admire
refinement, and [at such places], both in the capital and on the countryside, I met many
people talking about doubtful things. There were those who said they were practitioners
of Buddhism, resentful people who called themselves boro-boro, and I have heard stories
618
Tsurezure-gusa is a collection of short episodes, thoughts, and observations of contemporary society (徒然草).
Yoshida Kenkō (吉田兼好, 1283–1352).
619
The year 1500 seems to be the normally accepted year of completion. This is also mentioned in the program
notes to an exhibition of scroll paintings (e-maki) at Tokushima Museum, May–August 1999, at
http://www.museum.tokushima-ec.ed.jp/hasegawa/exhibition/shokunin.htm (accessed in March 2009). There are
several existing copies from the Edo period. Also in Ishida, ed., Nihon no bijutsu 5, 1977, 28.
620
Nishiyama Masaru, in Iwasaki Kae, et al., ed., Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase, 1999, 533.
621
Yoshida Kenkō, Tsurezure-gusa (ca. 1340), 115 concluding part, 1965, 183–184. (ぼろ々々といふものの、昔なかりけ
るにや。近(き)世に、ぼろんじ・梵字・漢字など云(ひ)ける者、その始めなりけるとかや。世を捨てたるに似て我執深く、佛
道を願ふに似て、鬪諍をこととす。放逸無慙の有様なれども、死を軽くして、少(し)もなづまざるかたのいさぎよく覚えて、人
の語りしまゝに書(き)付(け)侍りるなり。).
622
Towazugatari (問はず語り) is a diary assumed to have been written by Nijō (二条, 1258–?), concubine to the
retired emperor Go-Fukakusa (後深草, 1243–1304). Fukuda Hideichi, ed., Towazu-gatari, 1982, 3.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
about [women] who have been caught up in insincere relations [with them], but such
relations have I not, sleeping idly alone.623
Fukuda Hideichi, the editor of this annotated publication of Towazu-gatari, says that,
“[j]udged from the content, it is likely that Volume 4 begins in February year two in the
Shōō era (1289),”624 and in the introduction to Volume 5 he writes that, “Volume 4 ended
with the break that seems to be a missing section from a time several years after the first
year of the Einin era (1293).” The book was completed some time between 1307 and
1313.625
There is no remark about the boro-boro playing the shakuhachi, neither in the passage
from Tsurezure-gusa, nor in the quote from Towazugatari. Episode 115 in Tsurezure-gusa
is often reiterated in secondary literature on the shakuhachi. The connection is made
through the resemblance between the boro-boro in Tsurezure-gusa and other appearances of
boro, e.g., the second reference above, Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase. In the
succeeding sections I refer to other texts and types of monks, e.g., Boro-boro no sōshi
(discussed in greater detail in Section 5.2), and komosō (further discussed in Chapter 6). The
type of monk referred to as muma-hijiri is also known as uma-hijiri, half monk half layman
travelling by horse.
623 th
Nijō, Towazugatari (late 13 century), 1982, 279. (三十一字の言の葉をのべ、情を慕ふ所には、あまたの夜を重ね、日数
を重ねて侍れば、あやしみ申す人、都にも田舎にもその數はべりしかども、修行者と言ひ、梵論梵論など申す風情の者に行きあひ
などして、心の外なる契りを結ぶためしも侍るとかや聞けども、さるべき契りもなきにや、いたづらに独り片敷き侍るなり。).
624
Fukuda, ed., Towazugatari, 1982, 226.
625
Fukuda, “Kaisetsu,” in Towazugatari, 1982, 371, 411–412.
626
Gunshoruijū (1779–1819), (群書類従) (Classified Collection of Older Literature).
627
土佐光信, ?-1522.
628
Gunshoruijū in Shinkō Gunshoruijū (Classified Collection of Older Literature, Revised Edition), 1978, 2–3. The
diaries of Kazunaga (和長卿記), from 1487 to 1529, still remain (YHJ, kazunagakyōki (和長卿記), accessed on
February 9, 2011. Arai Hakuseki (新井白石, 1657–1725) was an Edo period Confucian scholar, and Yashiro Hirokata
(屋代弘賢, 1758–1841) was a scholar of National Studies (kokugaku). Also mentioned in Ishida, ed., Nihon no bijutsu
5, 1977, 28. (七十一番職人歌合).
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Chapter 5 – Constructing Tradition: The boro and Shakuhachi
translator himself!); in the poems there is an allusion to a famous Chinese poem, “Feng qiao
ye bo,” which is further discussed below in the commentary to the second set of poems (cf.
Section 5.1.4.1). We are here presented with a person versed in the Classics.
As discussed above, boro-boro – or boro for short – is mentioned as a predecessor to the
komusō in modern lexica, but the connection between boro and komusō seems weak. Before
looking at the visual and textual content of this poetry duel, Section 5.1.1 adds a few words
about the shokunin uta-awase.
629
There are different types of Japanese poems, referred to as waka (和歌) to distinguish them from Chinese poems
or kanshi (漢詩), and tanka (短歌) – short poem – one kind of waka, which has five stanzas with 5-7-5-7-7 morae
each. See further Section 5.1.4 and footnote 660 below.
630
This scroll painting with poems from 1494 is discussed in Chapter 6, in relation to the deliberation concerning
komo or komosō, another supposed predecessor to the Edo period komusō. (三十二番職人歌合).
631
Tōhoku-in Shokunin uta-awase (東北院職人歌合). Shin-pen kokka taikan, 1993, 381–383. Ishida, Nihon no bijutsu 5,
23.
632
Tsurugaoka hōjō-e Shokunin uta-awase (鶴岡放生会職人歌合). Shin-pen kokka taikan 10, 1993, 384–385. Ishida,
Nihon no bijutsu 5, 24–25.
633
放生会, a Buddhist ceremony where animals are let free, based on the doctrine of not killing and not eating meat.
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judge, a total of twenty-five people depicted. The following two, the above-mentioned
Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase (abbreviated below as 32-ban) and Shichijūichi-ban
Shokunin uta-awase (abbreviated below as 71-ban) are from 1494 and 1500 respectively. 634
The 32-ban is influenced by the preceeding two Shokunin uta-awase, but does not contain
the same artisans, whereas the 71-ban duplicates many of the artisans that appear in the
Tsurugaoka paintings.
Tōhoku-in, Tsurugaoka, and the 71-ban all have the themes tsuki (moon) and koi (love),
but in the 32-ban the themes are hana (flowers) and jukkai (recollections).635 Each poetry
duel is evaluated by a hanja, a judge. The hanja of the uta-awase scroll paintings are: for
the Tōhoku-in scroll painting a sutra calligrapher, kyō-ji; for the Tsurugaoka scroll painting
a shintō priest, kan-nushi at Hachiman-gū; for the 32-ban scroll painting a fund-raising
monk, kanjin-hijiri; and a mass consensus, shūgi, for the 71-ban scroll painting. 636
There is of course much more to be said about the appearance of the shokunin uta-awase
scroll paintings from a sociological viewpoint (e.g., why did uta-awase become the theme
for paintings of low-ranking artisans?), but it is beyond the scope of the present study to
dwelve further into these matters. It is enough here to note that the monks referred to in
various shakuhachi-related material are depicted.
634
From the program notes for an exhibition of e-maki at Tokushima Museum, May–August 1999, at
http://www.museum.tokushima-ec.ed.jp/hasegawa/exhibition/shokunin.htm (accessed in March 2009). Kurihara,
quoting Santō Kyōden, holds that the 32-ban is from before 1537 (Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 86).
635
述懐
636
Ishida, ed., Nihon no bijutsu 5, 1977, 94–102. (判者: 経師・神主・勧進聖・衆議).
637
衆議
638
geta (下駄), waki-zashi (脇差し), tantō (短刀).
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Chapter 5 – Constructing Tradition: The boro and Shakuhachi
other paintings the comment gives the colour of “the short sword” (koshi-gatana).
Furthermore, in Nihon no bijutsu 5, with reference to pair number forty-six in 71-ban, Ishida
says that “the boro let their hair grow, wore a sword, had geta on their feet, and carried a
paper umbrella, indicating an image of the common man.”639 Also in the annotated edition
of Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase in the New Edition of Collected Classical Japanese
Literature Iwasaki Kae says that the boro is carrying a sword.640 From this we may assume
that the boro in pair forty-six in the Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase is in fact carrying
a sword rather than a shakuhachi or some other instrument.
As mentioned above, other artisans depicted in this scroll painting also wear similar cases,
for example a hōka, 641 street entertainer, in pair number forty-nine (Plate 15). One
possibility would be that it is a case for a flute. If it is a flute, the length of the case indicates
a short instrument, like a hitoyogiri, a shorter type of shakuhachi that was popular in the
Muromachi period. In the painting of the hōka a handle of a sword seems to be visible, and
the ornamental cloth at the end is similar to that which the boro has. In the quote from
Nihon no bijutsu 5 above, a sword, geta, and an umbrella were the normal belongings for a
commoner, which could imply that the hōka is carrying a sword.
Plate 14: Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase, Number 46.
Used by courtesy of the Tohoku University Library.
639
Ishida, ed., Nihon no bijutsu 5, 1977, 60.
640
Iwasaki Kae, ed., Shin Nihon koten bungaku taikei, 1999, 95. I have also consulted the image reproduced in Aoki
Kunio, et.al., ed., Edo kagaku koten sōsho, 1977, 102–103, without finding any reason to change the opinion that it
is a sword.
641
放下.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
From the evidence of these paintings alone, it is of course impossible to say what kind of
tool or instrument they are carrying, but we can conclude that the boro is not carrying or
playing anything that can be visibly identified as a musical instrument.642 In Tsurezure-gusa,
Episode 115, the two boro monks, Irooshi-bō and Shira-boji, have a duel that is described in
the following way by Yoshida Kenkō:
Irooshi said, “… to have a duel in here would be to dishonour this training hall. Let us go
outside to the river beach. And all you, curious onlookers, I beg you, do not take side in
this duel. If this incident caused much trouble [for the people involved in the prayers], it
would only disturb the [Buddhist] service in progress.” The two men went out to the river
beach, fought for all their powers, and pierced each other to death.643
The fact that the two boro monks in this episode without hesitation go out and have a
duel, even killing each other, implies that they were carrying a sword of some kind, rather
than the much less dangerous shakuhachi.644
Plate 15: Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin
uta-awase, hōka in Number 49.
Used by courtesy of the Tohoku University
Library.
642
In the 32-ban there is a painting of a komosō playing shakuhachi. I return to this scroll painting in Chapter 6.
Neither that nor any other painting of komosō indicate any weaponry, which demonstrates a difference between
boro and komosō.
643
Yoshida Kenkō, Tsurezure-gusa (ca. 1340), 115 middle part, 1965, 183.「【いろおし】… こゝにて對面し奉らば、道場
をけがし侍るべし。前の河原へ参り合はん。あなかしこ、わきさしたち、いづかたをもみつぎ給(め)な。あまたのわづらひにな
らば、佛事の妨に侍るべし。」と言ひ定(め)て、二人河原へ出(め)あひて、心行(め)ばかりに貫ぬき合ひて、共に死ににけり。
644
We do know that the shakuhachi was used with the root ends sticking out, like a spike club, in the early Edo
period, but it would hardly be advisable to have a duel even with a ‘spiked’ shakuhachi.
645
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 44–45.
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bring forth any factual connections between the shakuhachi-playing komosō (cf. Chapter 6)
and the boro. Nakatsuka may rely on Kurihara, who quotes the poems and comments of pair
forty-six in 71-ban in full, and then adds the following statement:
[T]he so-called boro-boro, boro, boron-ji, muma-hijiri, etc., are of course not followers of
the Fuke sect, like the komusō that appear in later times, and they do not belong to any
unified and named religious system. However, as one type of worldly Buddhist followers,
always playing shakuhachi and walking around to various places, it goes without saying
that there is no room for doubt that they are what we can call predecessors to the
komusō.646
For those two early twentieth-century writers, it seems to have been of keen interest to
construe a connection between the boro and the Edo period komusō. It is also plausible,
however, that both of them were influenced by Kiyūshōran from 1830, relying on that as
their source. 647 In Kiyūshōran the section relating to shakuhachi begins as follows:
“Komosō are called boro in ‘Kanrōji Shokunin-tsukushi uta-awase,’ and in the poem they
are also called muma-hijiri,”648 and then the text continues to the boro that appear in
Tsurezure-gusa. The direct connection between komosō and boro in Kiyūshōran, combined
with the fact that Nakatsuka refers to the 71-ban as Kanrōji Shokunin-tsukushi uta-awase, as
does Kiyūshōran, may indicate that Kiyūshōran is his reference.649
Ueno, on the other hand, combines the description of a boro-boro in Boro-boro no sōshi,
a text that was discovered in 1338 and which is assumed to have been written by Myōe
Shōnin (1173–1232),650 with the appearance of the boro in Tsurezure-gusa. Furthermore,
Ueno also refers to early Edo period texts with the following words, thus creating an
illusion of resemblance.
646
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 86. (所謂ぼろ、ぼろぼろ、ぼろんじ、むまひじりなどと云ふものは、後世に於
ける虚無僧の如く普化宗徒ならざることは勿論、別に一定したる宗名制度を有するものに非ざれども、亦一種の佛教的流俗の徒に
して、常に尺八を吹いて各所を徘徊したる者なれば、所謂虚無僧の前身たることは固より疑を容れざる所なり).
647
As shown in Section 5.3, Nakatsuka is using Kiyūshōran as source when discussing the text Shaseki-shū.
648
Kitamura, Kiyūshōran (1830), 1906, 37. The original has uma-hishiri, but by convention it is read uma-hijiri.
649
Kanrōji is either Kanrōji Chikanaga (甘露寺親長, 1424–1500) or Kanrōji Motonaga (甘露寺元長, 1453–1527),
indicating the author of the poems and the text.
650
明恵上人. The boro-boro in this text is discussed in Section 5.2 below.
651
Kagaku-shū is an anonymous lexicon, completed in 1444. (和漢新選下学集):
652
Hayashi Dōshun Razan (林道春羅山, 1583–1657, First name Nobukatsu (信勝)), a prominent Confucian scholar
who exercised a heavy influence on the Confucian doctrine during the Edo period Japan as a propagator of the
Neo-confucian shushigaku (朱子学), also writes about this in his Razan Bunshū (Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918),
1975, 22).
653
A compilation of texts relating to Yamashiro (山城) Province south of present day Kyoto. Written by Kurokawa
Dōyū (黒川道祐, ?–1691), and completed in 1684.
654
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 187.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
655
Meiō then denoting the era from 1492 to 1501, indicating the approximate year of completion of the 71-ban.
656
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 187.
657
Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi, 1997, 198.
658
Ishida, ed., Nihon no bijutsu 5, 1977, 28, 102. (狩野養信, 1796–1846; 狩野雅信, 1823–1880).
659
Ibid., 28.
660
A mora (pl. morae) is “the minimal unit of measure in quantitative verse equivalent to the time of an average
short syllable.” (MW/OR, accessed on March 3, 2011). In Japanese phonology there is a distinction between
syllable and mora. “A mora is a unit that can be represented by one letter of kana (a Japanese pseudo-character used
in syllabic writing).” (Shibatani, “Japanese,” Encyclopedia of Language & Linguistics, 2006, 103). This means that
the two-syllable word shinmyō has four morae: shi + n + myo + u (long vowel).
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two-line model in my translations. I separate the stanzas with commas in the original and in
the transliterations. The stanzas are explained in the analysis, but the translations are in a
more free form, without any clear divisions between the original stanzas.
The first poem is by the boro, the second by the tsū-ji. After that there is a comment by
the judge, followed by poem two by the boro and the tsū-ji, in that order, and then the final
comment by the judge.
Boro, 1 法の月、ひろくすまして、むさし野に
おきゐる暮露の、草の床かな
nori no tsuki, hiroku sumashite, musashino ni
okiiru boro no, kusa no toko ka na.
The moon of enlightenment shines widely over Musashino,
Where the Boro wakes from his bed of grass.
Tsū-ji, 1 すみよしの、いり江の月や、ふるさとの
姑蘇城外の、あきのおも影
sumiyoshi no, iri-e no tsuki ya, furusato no
kosojōgai no, aki no omokage
Alas, the moon over the bay at Sumiyoshi,
It reminds me of autumn in my hometown, outside the castle of Koso.
Commentary 1 暮露の心、月いかばかりの法の光をかひろめ侍べき信仰もなく覚ゆ、右、住の江の月に対
して、名だかき楓橋のわたりをも、わが故郷といひ出たる所、他人のをよばざる風躰、披
仲麿が三笠の山の月にもすみまさりてこそ侍らめ
boro no kokoro, tsuki ika bakari no nori no hikari o ka hirome haberu beki shinkō
mo naku oboyu, migi, sumi no e no tsuki ni taishite, nadakaki fūkyō no watari o
mo, wa ga furusato to ihidetaru tokoro, tanin no o yobazaru fūtei, ka no nakamaro
ga mitsukasa no yama no tsuki ni mo sumimasarite koso haberame.
The boro just wishes to spread enlightenment, but in reality he has no strong faith.
In contrast to the moon over Sumi no e [Sumiyoshi], the tsūji passes over the
famous Fūkyō bridge, thus relating to his hometown. This taken together with the
style and content, does not appear to imply that anyone else makes his moon
shine even brighter than the moon over Nakamaro’s Mikasa mountain.
Boro, 2 いとふなよ、かよふこころの、むまひじり
人のきくべき、あのをともなし
itou na yo, kayou kokoro no, mumahijiri
hito no kiku beki, ano oto mo nashi
Don’t bear a grudge towards the loving heart of the Muma-hijiri,
Nobody will hear, the sound when we meet.
Tsū-ji, 2 からやまと、しるべする身の、かひぞなき
おもふ中には、ことかよはさで
kara yamato, shirube suru mi no, kai zo naki
omou naka ni wa, koto kayowasade
Neither in China nor in Japan, helping people finding their way gives no reward.
So many feelings of love, yet, never reaching through.
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Commentary 2 右は、ただよのつねのことはりきこえたるのみ也、左の、馬ひじりは、あのをとせずゆか
む駒もといへる、万葉の古風もよりきたりて、神妙に侍り、尤可為勝
migi wa, tada yo no tsune no kotowari kikoetaru nomi nari, hidari no, mumahijiri
wa, ano oto sezu yukamu koma mo to iheru, manyō no kofū mo yorikitarite,
shinmyō ni haberi, motto kachi naru beki
The tsūji is just making things sound like the reason of everyday life, whereas the
muma-hijiri even refers to a horse that does not make any noise, drawing close to
the old Man’yō style gently and faithfully; thus he should be the winner.
661
起き居.
662
摂津国.
663
An old name for the district of Wu (呉), the Jiangsu Province (江蘇省) near the city of Suzhou (蘇州). KOKUGO,
Vol. 8, koso: p. 202. Koso is also the old name for the capital of the ancient State of Wu, Gusu in Chinese, present
day Suzhou.
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Chapter 5 – Constructing Tradition: The boro and Shakuhachi
at Feng qiao), in which the poet tells of how he hears the bell of Kanzan-ji (C. Hanshan-si)
outside the Koso (C. Suzhou) castle:
The moon setting in the west, crows caw, and the frost filling the sky.
The maple trees on the river bench, shining in the light from the fishing boats,
A flicker in my sleepless eyes that have travelled so far.
The temple bell at Hanshan-si outside the Suzhou Castle tells of midnight,
The sound reaching to my boat.664
The commentator states that by referring to his own hometown (wa ga furusato to
ihidetaru tokoro), not letting it seem that he is referring to someone else’s (tanin no o
yobazaru fūtei), it makes (his) moon shine even brighter than the one that the well known
(ka no) Nakamaro wrote about, thus alluding to a poem by Abe Nakamaro (698–770)
included in the thirteenth-century poetry anthology Hyakunin Isshu,665 where the moon rises
over the mountain Mikasa in his homeland of Kasuga. Mikasa no Yama is also mentioned
in several poems in the eighth-century Man’yō-shū. 666
Obviously, the boro sleeps outside, and according to the commentator his religious
insights do not seem to be very deep. The translator, on the other hand, shows good ability
to refer to classical poetry, including both Chinese and Japanese verse.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
In his second poem, the boro shows his cultivation in yet another way. He seems well
aquainted not only with Man’yō-shū, but also with the poetic codes and conventions
established by the tenth-century poetry anthology Kokin waka-shū, maybe even inspired by
one poem in this collection: Number 226 in the section Autumn, Volume 1, by Sōjō Henjō.
The poem reads:
671
名にめでて、をれるばかりぞ、をみなへし、我おちにきと、人にかたるな (僧正遍昭)
na ni medete, oreru bakari zo, ominaeshi, ware ochiniki to, hito ni kataru na
Beguiled by its name Ominaeshi did I just pick a flower.
Do not let people know that I fell.
The word ominaeshi is the name of a plant, but it is often used in poetry referring to a
beautiful woman; the word is written with the Chinese characters 女郎花,672 where the first
two characters refer to a prostitute or female entertainer, jorō, and the last character denotes
the word ‘flower.’ The author of this poem, Sōjō Henjō,673 was a monk and a poet, and he is
here making fun of himself. Had it been a court noble, falling in love with a woman would
hardly result in a poem like this. Here, on the other hand, Henjō – a monk – has fallen in
love with a woman, so low has he fallen, but, admonishes Henjō, don’t tell anyone! Since
Henjō was an aristocrat he would naturally be riding a horse, and the fourth stanza, ochiniki,
may well refer to falling in love (falling for a woman), but also falling off a horse – maybe
while plucking the flower ominaeshi – thereby amplifying the comical aspects of the poem.
The boro, also a monk, makes a similar remark in his poem: I will make sure that the
rumour is not heard (ano oto mo nashi), and maybe this stanza also contains a reference to
the sound of someone falling off a horse. The beginning of the last stanza in the boro’s
poem, ano oto, meaning both ‘that sound,’ and ‘the sound of a foot/hoof,’ constitutes a
669
Man’yō-shū, in Takagi, et.al., ed., Nihon Koten Bungaku Taikei 6, 1973 (1960), p. 217. (君戀寝不宿朝明誰乗流馬足
音吾聞為). The ashi no oto in the fourth stanza is read anoto, alluding both to ano oto (that sound), and ashi no oto
(the sound of the horse’s hoof).
670
Man’yō-shū in Nihon Koten Bungaku Taikei (Collected Classical Japanese Literature), Vol. 6, 1973, 417. (安能於
登世受 由可牟古馬母我 可豆思加乃 麻末乃都藝波思 夜麻受可欲波牟). The ashi no oto in the first stanza is here read ano oto,
again with the same connotations to both ‘that sound,’ and the ‘sound of the hoof.’ The ‘horse’ is indicated by
yukamu koma, ‘a forward-moving saddle,’ which is the same phrasing as used by the commentator.
671
Kokin waka-shū, in Saeki Umetomo ed., Nihon koten bungaku taikei 8, 1971, 145.
See also http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/japanese/kokinshu/.
672
KOGO, ominaeshi: p. 1462.
673
僧正遍昭, 816–890.
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Chapter 5 – Constructing Tradition: The boro and Shakuhachi
direct allusion to the two Man’yō-shū poems quoted above, but it may also imply an
unspoken reference (that sound) to Henjō’s poem. The boro is referred to as a uma-hijiri, a
horse-monk, so when he falls (in love/off a horse) “that sound of falling off a horse/rumours”
is not heard, when picking the flower-woman he has fallen in love with. Maybe the boro
even finds himself cleverer than Henjō: I do not give rise to sounds (rumours) in love affairs
so do not dislike me. There is no explicit allusion to poem Number 226 in the boro’s poem,
but I would interpret the poem by the boro as containing indications that the boro knew both
Man’yō-shū and Kokin waka-shū.
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The moon of the dharma dwells broadly and calmly above Musashino 武蔵野 – o, the
grass bed of the boro who has risen (from it)! The heart of the boro – the radiance of the
dharma at the origin of the moon should, alas, be spread. Being awaken without faith – o
do not forsake the world! Even the ‘horse-ascetic’ with his heart always returning – this
should be well known – does not utter such a sound.675
In Deeg’s translation, the theme ‘love’ is not accentuated; rather, he continues with the
notion of the boro’s (or the uma-hijiri’s) faith always returning to … what? Its origin,
674
One typical and well known example would be the story about Jōruri-hime.
675
Max Deeg, “Komusō and ‘Shakuhachi-Zen’,” 2007, p. 16, n 22. There seems to be a minor typing error in the
original, which I have corrected here.
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Chapter 5 – Constructing Tradition: The boro and Shakuhachi
maybe, evoking an image of a truly devout monk. Even when he loses his faith, and
understands not to forsake the world, he does not utter such words. This interpretation
reflects poorly the theme of ‘love,’ and the common character of the boro that I find to be
explicit in the poems.
The writer Takeda Kyōson interprets the poems of the boro as well. He views the
commentator’s evaluation of poem number one as a description of a monk who thinks
himself to be a preacher (a 説法者 of the right way, one assumes), but in reality is no such
thing. Takeda also interprets the second poem of the boro: In his interpretation, however,
the boro is a uma-hijiri and then the uma-hijiri becomes a bashaku, a person who
transported gods by horse.
[The commentator] gives him a high evaluation. What we observe here is that a part of
the boro seems to have become “uma-hijiri.” One viewpoint says that the uma-hijiri
originated in the koma-hijiri [高麗聖], who came from Koma [kingdom] in Korea, and
became koma-hijiri [駒聖], which then was turned into muma-hijiri [馬聖], but, actually
they seem to have been what was called bashaku [馬借], people who used horses to
transport gods.676
676
Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi, 1997, 197.
677
KOKUGO, Vol. 3, uma-hijiri: p. 23.
678
明恵上人, ぼろぼろの草紙.
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A long time ago, there was a woman who was selling oil for a living. Her appearance was
ugly, and she did not like to run into people during daytime. She would only go to the
679
market after the sun set, and was therefore called boro-boro. She had two sons: The
680
older was named Renge-bō, and wandered around to all the various regions in his
nenbutsu practice.681 The younger was named Kokū-bō,682 who learned the style of the
wild monks [kassō], and wandered to all the various regions in a fantastic and grotesque
way. 683
The meaning of the word kassō is unknown, but supposedly it refers to a wild or
684
uncontrolled kind of monk who would do things nobody expected.
One of the existing copies of this book is in the repository of Iwate University Library
Media Centre. Iei Michiko wrote a report in 2007 about the Boro-boro no sōshi, published in
an Iwate University Bulletin. According to this report, the book at Iwate University Library
contains only the last third, compared to published editions. The story begins with the
woman mentioned in the above quote. Iei Michiko also states that “the word boro-boro does
not appear,”685 which means that the quote above must come from a different copy of the
book. Takeda Kyōson has written the only interpretation of Boro-boro no sōshi that I have
been able to obtain. In his interpretation and explication of the text, he begins by stating that,
“[t]he tale begins with a woman, Kure (暮れ), who lives in the capital selling oil. She gives
birth to two sons with contrasting appearances, the wild-tempered Kokū-bō who has dark
complexion and ugly features, and the handsome and kind-hearted Renge-bō.”686 This quote
at least implies that the text Takeda has read is similar to the text at Iwate University
Library.
In 1830, Kitamura states in Kiyūshōran that Boro-boro no sōshi was written by Myōe
Shōnin, which is reiterated by Kurihara in 1918, 687 and Koida Tomoko 688 states that, in the
sample at Iwate University Library, “as a common trait in all the various copies of the book,
its history of transmission from Myōe is noted.”689 This common trait in the extant copies is
also connected to, for instance, temples to which Myōe had some relationship.690 The
chronology is, however, not confirmed, and Iei Michiko begins her above-mentioned report
679
After the sun sets (暮れ, kure) she would show up (露, arawa), therefore, with another reading, boro-boro (暮露暮露).
680
蓮華坊.
681
As mentioned above, nenbutsu is the practice of prayers to invocate the Amida Buddha, and it was the central
idea in Jōdo-shū, Pure Land Buddhism, a denomination according to which the invocation of Amida Buddha is the
way to salvation.
682
虚空坊.
683
Quote in Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 83. (むかし油を売りて業とせる一人の女ありけるが、其容貌醜くして
白晝人に遭ふを厭ひ、暮方のみ市に露れしを以て暮露暮露と云ひたりとぞ、二人の子あり兄の蓮華坊は念佛修行に諸國を巡り、弟
の虚空坊は活僧の風を學び、異形の風を以て諸國を巡り云々).
684
KOKUGO, Vol. 4, kassō: p. 703. In the lexical source it says: “Maybe referring to a monk who does things that
nobody would expect.” (人の思いもよらないことなどをする僧をいうか。).
685
Iei Michiko, a scholar of classical literature, “ ‘Boro-boro no Sōshi’ ni tsuite,” June 2007, 101. Transcript of
Boro-boro no sōshi, on pages 104–114. Also confirmed in a personal communication with Professor Iei on February
21, 2011.
686
Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi, 1997, 183.
687
Kitamura, Kiyūshōran (1830), 1906, 38.
688
Koida Tomoko (恋田知子). researcher at the National Institute for the Humanities (Japanese Literature).
689
Koida Tomoko quoted in Iei Michiko, “‘Boro-boro no Sōshi’ ni tsuite,” 2007, 102.
690
In a personal communication with Professor Iei on February 21, 2011.
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Chapter 5 – Constructing Tradition: The boro and Shakuhachi
by stating that “[a]mong the cluster of tales referred to as ‘otogi-sōshi’ 691 there is a tale
from the Muromachi period with the popular name ‘Boro-boro no sōshi’.”692 The notation of
the transmission from Myōe may also be a point of discussion, which I refer to in Section
5.2.2 below.
691
A type of fairy-tales, normally with images included, common in the Muromachi and Edo periods. (御伽草子).
692
Iei Michiko, “‘Boro-boro no Sōshi’ ni tsuite,” 2007, 101.
692
Ibid.
693
What kind of monks kassō refers to is not clear, according to KOKUGO, Vol. 4, kassō: p. 703. In the lexical
source one reads: “Maybe referring to a monk who does things that nobody would expect.” (人の思いもよらないことな
どをする僧をいうか。).
694
Kitamura, Kiyūshōran (1830), 1906, 38. (弟ハ活僧の風を學び頭髪を半にきりて繪がきたる紙衣をきて一尺八寸の太刀をは
き八尺の檜木の棒をつき諸国を行く【ありく】といへり).
695
Ibid. (尺八ハこの腰刀の寸法なれば後にこれにかへたるにや). In Kitamura’s comment, the sword is referred to not only
as a sword, but a koshi-gatana, normally a short sword. However, it was not until the Edo period that the length of
swords became regulated, and it is therefore conceivable that the sword was a short koshi-gatana, which literally
means ‘waist sword,’ referring to a sword that was carried at the waist, stuck in the sash. See also footnote 697
below.
696
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 45. (之れは前記職人盡の画と風俗ピッタリ合っているとの
事であり、又兼好法師の徒然草の暮露に亦此形であるとの事であります。).
697
The katana (sword for combat on foot; the common sword from the Edo period on) and the tachi (sword for
fighting from horseback; more common in the Heian and Kamakura periods) both have blades that measure above 2
shaku (more than approx. 60 centimetres), The waki-zashi (a side-arm) should be between 1 and 2 shaku (30–60
centimetres), and the tantō (literally ‘short sword’ and in reality a dagger) is less than 1 shaku, according to the
homepage of the sword smith Munechika Hyōe (宗近兵衛 ) at http://www.katanakazi.com accessed on August
20, 2011. A blade that measured 1 shaku 8 sun is therefore rather short to be referred to as a tachi.
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the Kinko techō, from the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century respectively. The
character 惣 (sō) refers to an autonomous body in rural villages in the Kamakura and
Muromachi periods, that set up locally valid rules and regulations. No connection between
活僧 and 活惣 seems to have been established, and thus, no connection between the kassō
relating to boro-boro and the Kassō branch of the Fuke sect. The practice of using
phonetic-equivalent characters may explain the difference, but the inclination towards
finding similarities is still remarkable. In the historical overview by the musicologist
professor Kamisangō Yūkō, he refers to the boro as predecessors to the later komo or
komosō (cf. Chapter 6), with the following words:
[They] carried a straw mat [komo] on their wanderings and used it as bedding for sleeping
outside, and therefore they were called by this name [komosō], but they were earlier also
called boro ( 暮露 ), boro-boro, boronji, bonji, kanji, etc. In the older texts they are
mentioned in “Tsurezure-gusa.” 698
Christopher Yohmei Blasdel renders this part of Kamisangō’s text above into English in
the following way:
Their name derives from komo, a simple, woven straw mat worn on their backs to keep
out rain and cold. These beggar-monks were also referred to as boro, boroboro, boronji,
bonji and kanji, all words that have religious overtones yet convey the feelings of
mendicancy and poverty.699
The original text definitely states that the boro were predecessors to the komosō, who in
turn are said to be predecessors of the Edo period komusō. In Blasdel’s adapted version the
boro is also endowed with a religious connotation. The use of the words bonji and kanji,
which refer to Sanskrit and Chinese respectively, does of course indicate that they were
learned monks, but in view of the commentary to the 71-ban, the religious inclinations of
the boro in that scroll painting seem to have been rather shallow. The boro’s strong point is
his cultivation, his ability to refer to old Japanese poems, and most likely to understand the
references the tsūji is making (Chinese verse, Man’yō-shū). This depicts a man with literary
qualities more than with religious insight and depth.
The section above from Kamisangō’s text continues with a careful, but quite explicit,
construction on behalf of Kamisangō: “In the fifteenth century the name komosō was not in
use, and it seems that [the boro] were not necessarily connected to the shakuhachi, but
when they began to be called komosō the shakuhachi became an indispensable part.”700 In
Chapter 6 I discuss the komosō, and it is clear that there are no earlier references to komosō
than a scroll painting from 1494, in which the komosō plays shakuhachi. To say that the
boro do not seem to be connected to the shakuhachi by necessity allows too many doors to
698
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 74. (薦を持ち歩いて野宿の夜具としたので、この名で呼
ばれたが、それ以前には、ぼろ(暮露)、ぼろぼろ、ぼろんじ、梵字、漢字などとも呼ばれた。古いところでは『徒然草』に記さ
れている。十五世紀にはまだ薦僧の称はなく、尺八とも必ずしも結びついていないようであるが、薦僧となると尺八が付き物とな
る。).
699
Kamisangō translated in Blasdel, The Shakuhachi… (1988), 2008, 82.
700
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 74. (十五世紀にはまだ薦僧の称はなく、尺八とも必ずし
も結びついていないようであるが、薦僧となると尺八が付き物となる。). Emphasis added.
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be kept open in an interpretation of the older history of the shakuhachi. Kamisangō does not
give any substantiating references, or even a circumstantial proof, to support his view. To
keep the possibility of a connection between shakuhachi and boro open seems, rather, to be
a construed view of the shakuhachi tradition.
5.2.2.1 Takeda
Takeda Kyōson is a writer with his aim towards the general public. On the other hand, he is
one of only three of the writers I have studied, who comments on the content of Boro-boro
no sōshi. Takeda is quoted in the academic research conducted by Tsukitani Tsuneko,701 and
I find his comments to be of interest for the present study. Takeda refers to a publication of
the text in Series of Books on Eastern Buddhism in Japanese Language, published by
Meicho Shuppan.702 I have not been able to obtain a copy of the whole text, and I discuss
here the content of the text as described by Takeda Kyōson.703
Takeda characterizes Kokū-bō as a fierce and violent person, who cuts down anyone who
does not comply with his view on the right path of Buddhism, and a person who has no
sentiment for socially accepted behaviour. When their mother dies, the pious Renge-bō
wishes to bury her and give her a ceremonial service, but Kokū-bō would rather undress her
and sell the clothes. He also prefers to throw her corpse out on the field rather than pay for a
coffin and a ceremony. They sell the house, share the money, and Kokū-bō buys himself a
sword. Takeda quotes a passage where Kokū-bō has come to a place where about a hundred
followers of the Yūzūnenbutsu-shū, a branch of Jōdo-shū Buddhism,704 has gathered. He
becomes infuriated when the practitioners get excited, saying that flowers are falling from
the sky. Kokū-bō cuts down more than thirty of the monks and nuns gathered. He follows
his own law, and in a dialogue with his older brother, Kokū-bō claims that nenbutsu – the
701
In a footnote Tsukitani (Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 19) quotes Takeda as saying that “boro and
komosō were originally different beings, but they merged and the boro became extinct, and from the beginning of
the Edo period [the remaining komo, my remark] became komusō. (Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi,
1997, 173, 181, 198).”
702
国文東方仏教叢書 published by 名著出版.
703
Searching the publisher’s website there are no items that correspond to the title of the series, but the title can be
found on Online Shopping sites, e.g., amazon.co.jp, as antiquarian books.
704
The Yūzūnenbutsu-shū (融通念仏宗) branch was established by Ryōnin (良忍, 1072–1132). Also known as
Dainenbutsu-shū (大念仏宗). The main idea is that each person’s prayers will benefit all other people. YHJ,
yūzūnenbutsushū (融通念仏宗), by Kiyohara Saneaki (清原實明), accessed on February 18, 2011.
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practice of ardent prayers in order to reach the Pure Land – is a vulgar practice, meant only
as an initial practice without any hope for progress. It is not the true teaching of Jōdo-shū.705
Whether the boro-boro that appears in Tsurezure-gusa should be interpreted as a
representative example of the boro-boro in Boro-boro no sōshi may be a point of discussion.
According to Iei Michiko (cf. above) the word boro-boro does not appear in the copy she
has investigated, but Takeda quotes Boro-boro no sōshi as stating that Kokū-bō was leader
of a thirty men strong gang of boro-boro, described in the following way:
Kokū-bō “was 7 shaku 8 sun tall [approx. 236 centimetres], he had the strength of
sixty-five men, he wore a painted paper garment and black trousers. He carried a 1 shaku
8 sun [approx. 54.5 centimetres] sword and an octagonal pole with coiled handle, and he
had 1 shaku 5 sun [approx. 45 centimetres] high wooden clogs. He brought with him
thirty boro-boro of the same token, going on pilgrimages around in the provinces, scaring
people who heard or saw them, and there was no-one who would even think they wanted
to run into them.706
705
Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi, 1997, 183–189.
706
Boro-boro no sōshi quoted in Takeda 1997, p. 186. (虚空坊は、「長【たけ】は七尺八寸、力は六十五人が力、絵かき紙衣
に黒袴きて、一尺八寸の打刀をさし、ひるまきの八角棒を横たへ、一尺五寸のたかあしだはきけり。同様なる暮露々々三十人引具
おそ
して諸国を行脚するに、見聞く人惶れて、かりそめにもゆきあはんといふものなし。」). Takeda is referring to the sword as an
uchi-gatana, which is a katana carried in the sash with the edge facing upwards and used for combat on foot. (YHJ,
nihontō, tachi (日本刀・太刀), by Ogasawara Nobuo (小笠原信夫), accesses on April 22, 2011). A tachi, on the other
hand, is carried with a special device in order to hang more loosely below the hip, with the edge facing downwards
and used for combat on horseback (http://www.katanakazi.com accessed on August 20, 2011).
707
Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi, 1997, 192. The threefold training (sangaku, 三学): a higher virtue
(kai, 戒) to prevent evil; mind (jō, 定) that creates a peacefulness; wisdom (e, 慧) that makes it possible to reach
enlightenment and understand the truth.
708
Ibid., 182.
709
Professor Iei confirmed in a personal communication on February 21, 2011, that the Boro-boro no sōshi held at
Iwate University is not typical for the Kamakura period, and that it probably is from the sixteenth century, or at the
earliest, from some time after the Ōnin no ran (1467–1477).
710
烏丸光広, 1579–1638.
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Chapter 5 – Constructing Tradition: The boro and Shakuhachi
that seems to be certain is that Myōe did not write it.”711 Takeda also begins his explication
by saying that Boro-boro no sōshi is an example of a type of fairy-tale, otogi-sōshi, “which
are stories intended for the general public, made from the Muromachi to the Edo period,”712
in principle paraphrasing Iei Michiko (cf. above). Takeda refers to Boro-boro no sōshi as an
example of a unique type of storybook.
If Boro-boro no sōshi was not completed during Myōe’s lifetime – and maybe much later
than the time of the recorded discovery in 1338 – it raises questions of the relevance of the
appearance of boro-boro in the text. If the text is much younger than expected, maybe even
from the early Edo period, it gains a higher relevance to the construed connection between
komo monks and boro-boro monks on the one hand, and the later komusō on the other (cf.
Chapter 4 above).
5.2.2.2 Ueno
Ueno Katami is another non-academic writer on the history of shakuhachi. As with Takeda,
Ueno is, however, also referred to in the academic research conducted by Tsukitani Tsuneko,
stating that, “[he] … presents a guideline for those who have just begun research on the
shakuhachi, with a wealth of quotes from the literature.”713
Ueno refers to Boro-boro no sōshi, citing a passage about Kokū-bō and his thirty
followers, which is similar but not the same as in the quote in Takeda above (5.2.2.1).
The older brother Kokū-bō, “carried a 1 shaku 8 sun [approx. 54.5 centimetres] sword,
wore a painted paper garment, a robe, and black trousers, and he became what is called
boro. … He brought with him thirty boro-boro of the same token, going on pilgrimages
around in the provinces, scaring people who heard or saw them, and there was no-one
who would even think they wanted to run into them. However, they did not commit any
immoral acts, but closed their doors at night and practiced za-zen.”714
There are several aspects of the boro-boro that need attention in this quote. Firstly, the
practice of za-zen is not mentioned anywhere else. According to other writers, the
denomination – if any – was Jōdo-shū. Ueno concludes this quote by asserting that, “[a]s we
could expect, they wore crude clothes such as kami-ginu, and even though they showed an
attitude of desiring the way of Buddha by practicing nenbutsu [invocation of Amida
Buddha] and za-zen, they seem to have been masterless warriors carrying a sword on their
pilgrimage in the various provinces.”715 Ueno evokes an image of warriors, even though the
quote states that they did not commit any immoral acts, such as slaying or raping. Takeda,
on the other hand, reports that slaying was a normal activity. From Towazu-gatari, quoted at
the very beginning of this Chapter 5, it may be understood that the boro-boro were involved
711
Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi, 1997, 182.
712
Ibid.
713
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 24.
714
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 187. (兄の虚空坊が、「一尺八寸ありける打刀、絵かきたる紙ぎぬと衣とくろ
きはかまとをしたて、暮露といふ者に成て出にけり。… 同様なる暮露々々三拾人引ぐして諸国を行脚するに、見聞く人おそれて、
かりそみにもゆきあわんといふものなし。しかれどもひがごと〔僻事〕せず、夜はふすま〔衾〕を引かづき坐禅するなり。」).
715
Ibid.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
in several cases of “insincere relations.” The boro’s love relations, sincere or not, are also
referred to in Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase (cf. Section 5.1.4.2 above).
Finally, in the above conclusion that Ueno draws, he states that “they wore crude clothes
such as kami-ginu,” but it is questionable whether the meaning ‘worn out,’ or ‘shaggy’ was
a normal denotation of boro at the time, i.e., during the Kamakura and Muromachi periods.
The word boro is used in modern Japanese with the characters 藍褸 to denote a rag, scraps,
tattered clothes, a fault or defect, run-down or junky things. The word appears in the
Japanese-Portugese dictionary Vocabvlario da Lingoa de Iapam from 1603, in Japanese
called Nippo-jisho,716 and in the English book Self Help, translated into Japanese with the
name Saigoku risshi-hen by the Western scholar Nakamura Masanao in 1870–71.717 In the
former boroboroto is explained with the sentence “The kimono is torn,” and in the latter one
reads “torn clothes“ (ifuku ranru), with the comment that they are torn to rags (boroboro ni
yabureru).718
In a collection of commentaries, Saezuri-gusa, written from 1830–1863 by Fujiwara
Nagafusa (pen name: Jakuan), the author remarks that there were both biro and boro, but
that they probably were the same. Fujiwara refers to the boro as uma-hijiri, komosō, and
komusō in a way that is remarkably similar to as they appear in the Kiyūshōran. His final
comment is striking: “[T]he stained and torn garments of poor people used to be called ‘it
looks like a boro,’ and now it seems that boro has become a colloquial name for old clothes.
The book Kawa-bukuro by the priest Myōe is called with the old name Boro-boro no Sōshi;
in old times komosō were called boro-boro, but now, to wear torn garments is colloquially
often called boro-boro.”719
Thus, we can conceive today of three meanings of boro (or boro-boro): (1) rags (藍褸),
(2) a person who is not willing to show his or her face in daylight (暮露), and (3) a person
knowledgable in Sanskrit (梵論 ). Denotations (2) and (3) were apparently used in the
Medieval Period (Kamakura and Muromachi periods), but any reference to denotation (1)
seems to be a modern – or late pre-modern – construct, which does not carry any relevance
to the appearance of the boro monks until the end of the sixteenth century. The light paper
garment – called kami-ginu in Japanese – mentioned in various quotes, both above as well
as in the following section, is also referred to in Chapter 6. The kami-ginu was a common
garment in the Medieval Period among both rich and poor, and it was not until the
Momoyama and Edo periods that it began to connote poverty or shabbiness (cf. Section
6.1.2.2 below).
The connection between boro and the shakuhachi-playing komosō (cf. Chapter 6 below)
was first established by Hayashi Razan in the early seventeenth century, as discussed in
Section 4.5 above. Hayashi also quotes Boro-boro no shōshi in his commentary to Episode
115 in Tsurezure-gusa. In Hayashi we read the following:
716
日葡辞書.
717
西国立志編. 中村正直, 1832–1891.
718
KOKUGO, Vol. 18, boro-boro: p. 225. (着物が破れているさま・衣服襤褸).
719
Fujiwara Nagafusa, Saezuri-gusa, 1910–1912, 102. (いやしきもの々うづら衣、つゞれの衣着たるを暮露のやう也などい
ひしが、うつりて古衣の俗称とはなれるにやあらむ、明恵上人皮袋といふ書の古名をぼろ々々のさうしとよべるなど、昔はこも僧
をぼろ々々とよべり、今俗つゞれの着たる姿をぼろ々々したなどいへるもよくあへり)
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Chapter 5 – Constructing Tradition: The boro and Shakuhachi
Shukugahara, located in the province of Settsu; boro-boro is said to be written 暮露, but it
should be written as 梵論, because there are names like bonji [梵字] and kanji [漢字]. There
is a text called Boro-boro no sōshi, and [in this text] it is told [about] a person called
Kokū-bō becoming a boro; he is 7 shaku 8 sun tall [approx. 236 centimetres] and very
strong, he wears a painted paper garment, and carries a 1 shaku 8 sun [approx. 54.5
centimetres] sword and an octagonal pole with coiled handle, he wears 1 shaku 5 sun
[approx. 45 centimetres] high wooden clogs, and has long hair and dark complexion. He
is married to a beautiful woman, and walks around the provinces with thirty men.720
As we can see, this quote is in essence similar to the qoutes from Takeda and Ueno above,
even if there are differences in detail, and it does not give any further clue as to how and
why the boro were linked to the komosō and the komusō. With reference to Hayashi’s
positive evaluation of the boro, as discussed in Chapter 4, the link between these three – as
far as I can see disparate – types of monks was established in Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi, and
this link has never been questioned in any of the secondary writings in modern times.
720
Hayashi Razan, Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi (1621), 1968, 124.
(宿河原 摂津國 ぼろ々々 暮露と書といへども梵論と書べきなり梵字漢字なといふ名もあれば也ぼろ々々の草紙一巻あり虚空坊
といふもの身の長七尺八寸力強し絵かきかみぎぬに一尺八寸の太刀をはきひるまきの八角棒をよこたへ一尺五寸の高屐をはき髪長
く色黒くしてぼろとい云者になり一人の美女を妻とし同行三十人諸国をありくといへり).
721
沙石集.
722
無住一円, 1226–1312.
723
Written with the Chinese characters 梵論梵論 or 暮露暮露.
724
Jōkyō period, 1684–1688. (貞享).
725
KOKUGO, Vol. 18, boro-boro: p. 225. (Tsurezure-gusa: ぼ ろ ぼ ろ 多 く 集 ま り て 、 九 品 の 念 仏 を 申 し け る に ;
Shaseki-shū: ひたすら暮露暮露の如くにて、帷に紙衣きてぬるに).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
“Shaseki-shū 8” A monk who had entered the Way of Buddha, ... after having been
relieved of his official position in the territory, just like a boro-boro he wore a light paper
garment as clothing and even slept in it. 726
The Shaseki-shū is problematic. There are several versions of the text, with different
disposition and content. In the following sections I first refer to how the Shaseki-shū is
treated and referred to in some twentieth-century secondary writings on the shakuhachi
(Section 5.3.1). Following that I refer to and discuss some modern research on the
Shaseki-shū, in order to clarify my point that it is at least likely that the boro-boro –
mentioned in the above quote – is a later addition (Section 5.3.2). Finally I discuss a
possible misinterpretation of a quote of Shaseki-shū in the Kiyūshōran (Section 5.3.3). It
may seem to be a lengthy discussion, but I find it highly relevant to clarify and problematize
the appearance of boro-boro in Shaseki-shū.
Nevertheless, … in ‘14, About Driving Out Poverty’ … it is told that a long time ago, a
Buddhist priest, who was the official administator of provincial affairs in a small territory
had become weakened by illness. “After having been relieved of his official position in
the territory, … he became just like a boro-boro, wearing a light paper garment as
clothing and even slept in it, neither his feet nor his body got cold, he did not think any
food to be bad, and he found barley-mixed rice [cheap food, my remark] the nectar of his
meal.727
Ueno claims that Shaseki-shū was written in the 1280s, and states that, “we can say that
[the boro-boro] were known by the general public during the Kamakura period, in the latter
half of the thirteenth century,”728 thereby countering his own conclusion about the earliest
appearance of the boro-boro in the early fourteenth century, even if the difference is merely
around fifty years.
726
Kitamura, Kiyūshōran (1830), 1906, 38. (ある入道法師云々所領得替の後ハひたすら暮露々々の如くにて惟に
紙衣をきてねる).
727
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 186.
728
Ibid.
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Chapter 5 – Constructing Tradition: The boro and Shakuhachi
The reference Ueno gives is from page 335 of an Iwanami Bunko paperback edition of
Shaseki-shū, but his footnote does not contain any further bibliographical data. Takeda
gives exactly the same quote, also without providing any further bibliographical information.
Takeda writes:
Mujū … belonged to Rinzai Zen, but in Shaseki-shū there are many Buddhist narratives
centered around true stories without leaning towards any specific denomination. Among
these stories there is a story about a monk who had entered the Way of Buddha [nyūdō
hōshi, my remark] in the episode ‘About Driving Out Poverty,’ and the description of
how the monk falls into poverty after having lost his territory is illustrated with a boro.729
The content is the same as in the quote in Kiyūshōran, and the quoted section should
then be from Volume 8 of Shaseki-shū. However, Section 14 of Volume 8 of Shaseki-shū
published in Nihon koten bungaku taikei, Volume 85, from 1973 (first printing 1966), does
not bear the title “About Driving Out Poverty,” or anything similar. The title of the above
quoted section – “About Driving Out Poverty” – is in Japanese hinkyū (alternatively read as
hingū or bingū) oidasu koto. In the Nihon koten bungaku taikei edition, Section 22 of
Volume 7 has the same title, “Bingū o oitaru koto.”730 Under this title, there is, however, no
remark about a monk or priest becoming like a boro-boro; the word boro-boro is not
mentioned, and the content is not similar.731
179
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
of the most authoritative studies on the Shaseki-shū was conducted by Watanabe Tsunaya,
and published in Nihon koten bungaku taikei. According to Watanabe, the content of the
first five volumes does not differ so much between different editions. From Volume 6,
however, “[the content] has undergone such a complete change that they are almost
impossible to compare.”735 Watanabe is of the opinion that Mujū revised his own text, and
that his final revisions should be regarded as the version that Mujū self prescribed. All of
the existing texts are copies made at later dates, but by comparing notes in the texts
researchers have been able to reach some consensus concerning the chronology. Watanabe
holds that the editions with a wider content, kōhon, are older, and that Mujū gradually
revised and erased the content to what Watanabe refers to as ‘abbreviated versions,’
ryakuhon.736
It is of importance for the present study to place the various editions in a historical
perspective. Tsuchiya gives the following order – or development – of the different
editions:737
735
Watanabe, Nihon koten bungaku taikei: Shaseki-shū, 1973, 17.
736
Ibid., 18.
737
Tsuchiya, “‘Shasekishū’ shohon no seiritsu to tenkai,” 2006, 202. (海俊本・米沢本・梵舜本・成簣堂本・内閣一類本・
長享本).
738
Watanabe, Nihon koten bungaku taikei: Shaseki-shū, 1973, 21–33. Watanabe lists also other editions, but they are
not important in the present study and I have therefore not included them in this listing. (慶長十二行本 古活字 印本).
739
Ibid., 21.
180
Chapter 5 – Constructing Tradition: The boro and Shakuhachi
believes that it is a copy from the late Muromachi or the early Edo period.740 The copy of
Naikaku-bon carries the year 1542 and 1543, and the Bonshun-bon was copied in the year
1597 by Bonshun,741 a Buddhist monk and Shintō scholar who lived 1553–1632.
The Chōkyō-bon, which is shown in Plate 17, was copied by the monk Kaishū at
Kōya-san in the year 1489, based on a copy made in 1392. It is important to notice that
Watanabe holds that this edition has “excessive discrepancies in all volumes,” compared to
other editions.742
As we can see from this historical line-up, time passed between the completion of the
original text, Mujū’s own revisions, and the copies that exist today. Tsuchiya carefully
states that, “by a continuous research of the copies that are existing today, we can, to some
extent, grasp what kind of changes ‘Shaseki-shū’ underwent through Mujū’s revisions, or
somewhat at the hands of later generations.”743 Watanabe uses the Bonshun-bon in Nihon
koten bungaku taikei, mainly because it contains vastly more stories of heterogenous
character, even though, in Watanabe’s words, it is not necessarily the best of the existing
editions. Watanabe alleges that several changes may have been added, “and while it was
copied here and there … until the time Bonshun copied it 314 years later it underwent
various transformations.”744 This is of course not only true for the Bonshun-bon, but for all
the various editions.
While Watanabe viewed Bonshun-bon as “the original draft that Mujū so often
mentions,”745 another perspective of the Bonshun-bon is voiced by the above-mentioned
Kojima Takayuki: “Considering the text in Bonshun-bon, it is closer to the popular editions
than the old editions, and it is possible to regard it as a text that has been extended to
include a vast amount of these kinds of preachings and narratives as a step on the way from
old editions to popular editions.”746 Kojima thereby invites the view that several revisions
have been made by people who have been involved in the process of copying the text, and it
would be more than natural to assume that this is not only true for the Bonshun-bon.
In the Chōkyō-bon of the late fifteenth century, Section 14 of Volume 8 reads in the same
way as the above quotes. A monk who had entered the way of Buddha had fallen ill, lost the
good life, and after he had been relieved from his official position (by the feudal authorities)
in a small territory, he changed his way of life.
[J]ust like a boro-boro, he wore a light paper garment as clothing and even slept in it,
neither his feet nor his body were getting cold, he never thought any food to be bad,
finding barley-mixed rice the nectar of his meal. He just left everything to destiny, and
with gloom he lived in a world of dreams, seeing phantoms, gathering karma for the next
life.”747
740
Ibid., 23.
741
Ibid., 25.
742
Ibid., 28.
743
Tsuchiya, “‘Shasekishū’ shohon no seiritsu to tenkai,” 2006, 202.
744
Watanabe, Nihon koten bungaku taikei: Shaseki-shū, 1973, 20.
745
Ibid., 19.
746
Kojima Takayuki, quoted in Kami Kōta, “Shashun-bon ‘Shaseki-shū’ no honbun-hyōgen to hensha,” 2008, 9.
747
Mujū Ichien, Shaseki-shū (1283), reprint of the Chōkyō-bon, Kyoto: Nishimura Kurōemon, 1897, Part 8 (pp.
465–517), 503–504; Shaseki-shū Chōkyō-bon, maki 8 “hingū wo oi-itaru koto”; Shaseki-shū Naikaku-bon, maki 8
“hingū oi-itaru koto.” The same text is found in the original (Plate 17).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
The Chōkyō-bon is the oldest among the rufubon, and it was published in the third year
of the Chōkyō period (1489).748 Watanabe regards this edition as the oldest of the shortened,
abbreviated editions, i.e., the editions that Mujū edited at an older age. Volumes 1–5 and 9
of the Naikaku-bon, mentioned above, belong to the kohon-kei, whereas Volumes 6–8 and
10 belong to the rufubon-kei.749
In the Meiji reprint quoted above, in the Chōkyō-bon, and in the Naikaku-bon the section
belongs to Volume 8. Naikaku-bon Volume 8 is part of the same popular editions –
rufubon-kei – as Chōkyō-bon. The sections are written as “14, hinkyū o oi-idasu koto,”
“hinkyū o oi-itaru koto,” and “hinkyū oi-itaru koto” respectively, and the comment about
boro-boro is to be found also in the Naikaku-bon.750
In the kohon-kei texts to which Watanabe Tsunaya refers in Nihon koten bungaku taikei,
i.e., Bonshun-bon, Yonezawa-bon (Plate 18), and Keichō ko-katsuji jūnigyō-hon, the title of
the section quoted above is written as “Volume 7, Section 22 hinkyū o oitaru koto,”
“Volume 9, Section 22 bingū oitaru koto,” and “Volume 8 2nd part, Section 3 hinkyū oidasu
koto” respectively, implying a diversity of the content, and none of them refer to boro-boro
or anything similar to the quote from the Chōkyō-bon. 751
As stated by Watanabe above, the volumes after Volume 6 are the most diverse. This is
valid also for the disposition, which is obvious from the position of the section discussed
here.
The fact that the monk in the story quoted drifted “as a boro-boro” indicates that that the
boro-boro were still known some 150 years after the Tsurezure-gusa. The secondary
literature from the twentieth century (and the twenty-first, counting Tsukitani and Ueno) all
cite what appears to be the rufubon-kei. It is possible that later researchers have used the
same earlier secondary literature, i.e., Kurihara or Nakatsuka – or even Kitamura – without
considering the possibility of different existing versions of the same text.
748
Tsuchiya, “‘Shasekishū’ shohon no seiritsu to tenkai,” 2006, 183. Watanabe, Nihon koten bungaku taikei:
Shaseki-shū, 1973, 28.
749
Tsuchiya, “‘Shasekishū’ shohon no seiritsu to tenkai,” 2006, Material, p. 6.
750
Ibid., 6–12. (十四 貧窮ヲ追出事; 貧窮ヲ追出タル事; 貧窮追出タル事). The passage about the boro-boro can be found in
section 465 on page 152 in Tsuchiya’s thesis.
751
Mujū Ichien, Shaseki-shū (1283), in Watanabe, ed., Nihon koten bungaku taikei: Shaseki-shū, 1973, 8. The
differences in volumes depend on how many additions have been made to the various versions. (巻七二二 貧窮ヲ追タ
ル事; 巻九二二 貧窮追タル事; 巻八下三 貧窮追出事).
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Chapter 5 – Constructing Tradition: The boro and Shakuhachi
“Shaseki-shū 8” A monk who had entered the Way of Buddha, ... after having been
relieved of his official position in the territory, just like a boro-boro he wore a light paper
garment as clothing and even slept in it. At this time they did not as yet play the
shakuhachi, but the later komo got their name because they wandered around carrying a
straw mat. 752
The last sentence in this quote, from “At this time …,” is an explanation made by the
author Kitamura Intei. Nakatsuka quite obviously uses this part from Kiyūshōran.
Nakatsuka states the following.
In ‘Shaseki-shū’ it says: “Just like boro-boro he wore a light paper garment as clothing
and even slept in it. At this time they did not yet play the shakuhachi, but the komosō
got their name because they were carrying a straw mat.” I don’t know what period the
book ‘Shaseki-shū’ is from, but in either case, it is noteworthy that the komosō of the
early days, that is, in the Hōjō era or the era of the Southern and Northern Courts, did not
play shakuhachi. 753
There are some minor differences between the texts, but it seems highly likely that
Nakatsuka is mis-quoting Kitamura. To clarify my point I include the original text in
romanized version:
Kitamura: [shasekishū, hachi] aru nyūdō hōshi un-un shoryō tokutai no nochi wa hitasura
boro-boro no gotoku nite katabira ni kamiginu o kite neru sono koro imada
shakuhachi o fukazu sono go komo to iu wa mushiro o oite ariki kereba nari
Nakatsuka: shasekishū ni wa
“hitasura boro-boro no gotoku nite katabira ni kamiginu o kite neru sono koro imada
shakuhachi o fukazu komosō to iu wa mushiro o oite ari kereba nari”
to atte, …
In the emphasized segment, firstly, the word komo has been changed to komosō in
Nakatsuka, but they of course refer to the same thing. Secondly, the verbs ariki (Kitamura)
and ari (Nakatsuka) have quite different meanings: the former means to ‘walk around’ or
‘wander,’ and the latter means, here, to ‘live.’ Thirdly, the ending segment, kereba nari,
states a fact about how the komo got their name; kere-ba, ba meaning ‘when’ or ‘because’;
kere is used to state the fact; nari is a sentence-concluding copula. This shows that it is an
752
Kitamura, Kiyūshōran (1830), 1906, 38. (ある入道法師云々所領得替の後ハひたすら暮露々々の如くにて惟に紙衣をきてね
るその頃いまだ尺八をふかず其後薦といふハむしろをも負てありきければなり).
753
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 45. Emphasis added. (「沙石集」には『ひたすら暮露々々
の如くにて帷に紙衣を着て寝る、其頃未だ尺八を吹かず、薦僧といふは、むしろを負てありければなり』とあって「沙石集」とい
う書の年代は知りませんが、兎に角初期即ち北条時代や南北朝時代の薦僧は尺八を吹かなかった事は注意すべき事であります。).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
explanation of why the komo are called ‘komo’ that Kitamura has added, rather than a part
of the actual text by Mujū. In the Kiyūshōran there are no quotations marks or similar,
making it difficult to see where the quote actually begins and ends. Nakatsuka, on the other
hand, clearly includes this part as a quote from Shaseki-shū.754 In Kiyūshōran Kitamura
concludes that the boro-boro at that time, the time of Mujū, in the late thirteenth to the early
fourteenth century – or possibly much later – did not (as yet) play the shakuhachi, and that
the komosō appeared later, named after the straw mat that they were carrying when they
walked around. If this part is included in the quote, as in Nakatsuka’s case, it becomes an
explanation by Mujū, stating that the komo did not yet play shakuhachi at the time when
Mujū wrote the text, and that they got their name later because of the straw mats they used.
This would place the shakuhachi in principle in the hands of the boro-boro and the komo
around the turn of the thirteenth century; a connection that I argue is non-existent.
754
The quote is the same in both the 1979 publication of Nakatsuka’s research, and in the original article (Sankyoku,
Tokyo: Nihon Ongakusha, October 1936, 20).
755
Yoshida Kenkō, Tsurezure-gusa (ca. 1340), 115 concluding section, 1965, 183–184. ぼろ々々といふものの、昔なか
りけるにや。近(き)世に、ぼろんじ・梵字・漢字など云(ひ)ける者、その始めなりけるとかや。世を捨てたるに似て我執深く、
佛道を願ふに似て、鬪諍をこととす。放逸無慙の有様なれども、死を軽くして、少(し)もなづまざるかたのいさぎよく覚えて、
人の語りしまゝに書(き)付(け)侍りるなり。
756
Hosaka, “Jūnana seiki ni okeru komusō no seisei,” 1994, 167–171.
757
BKJ, bon: p. 484.
184
Chapter 5 – Constructing Tradition: The boro and Shakuhachi
185
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
In Chapter 5 above, “The boro and Shakuhachi,” I discuss the Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin
uta-awase in relation to the boro monks (cf. Section 5.1). The word komosō – sometimes
komo is used as an abbreviation – denotes another type of monk, who evidently played the
shakuhachi. These monks are often referred to as the predecessors to the Edo period komusō,
and in Japanese lexica they are even said to be the same. In the Hōgaku hyakka-jiten
(Encyclopaedia of National Music) the definition of komosō is: “An old name for
‘komusō’.”758 The Chinese characters used are 薦僧・菰僧・虚無僧, where the two first refer to
‘straw mat [薦・菰] monks,’ and the last one consists of the same characters as for komusō.
In the explanations one reads that the komosō were beggar-monks, and that it had become a
common activity for the komosō to play shakuhachi from the early sixteenth century.
Further, it is stated that after the establishment of the Fuke sect, which can only refer to
1677 when the komusō were acknowledged, the characters for komusō (虚無僧) were used,
but that the reading ‘komosō’ seems to have been retained for a while.759 This reference
definitely equates the komusō and the komosō, crossing over some 180 years, but in the
Hōgaku hyakka-jiten there are no references to primary sources to support this connection.
Some other lexica, however, provide such, e.g., the Shōgakukan Nihon kokugo dai-jiten
(Shogakukan’s Japanese Dictionary): “Komosō: (薦僧・虚無僧), … same as ‘komusō (虚無
760
僧)’.” The two characters used for komosō denote a straw mat (komo) and monk (sō),
whereas the characters in komusō denote emptiness (ko), nothingness (mu), and monk (sō).
こ む そ う
758
HHJ, komosō: p. 410. (<虚無僧>の古称。).
759
HHJ, p. 410. The time from when playing the shakuhachi became a common activity of the komosō (around
1500), to the official acknowledgement of the komusō (1677), constitutes the believed period of formation of the
tradition surrounding the shakuhachi (cf. Chapter 4).
760
KOKUGO, Vol. 8, komosō: p. 412. Also in Buddhology lexica, komosō and fukesō are mentioned as the same as
komusō (Nakamura Hajime, ed., Shin Bukkyō-jiten (The New Buddhist Dictionary), 1987. komusō: p. 180).
186
Chapter 6 – Constructing Tradition: The komosō and Shakuhachi
The references given that equate komosō with komusō are, however, all from the Edo
period, a time when the relation between boro, komosō, and komusō already had been
established as an invented tradition (cf. Chapter 4). The oldest references to komosō given
in lexica are: (1) A collection of rules and regulations locally selected and issued by the
Ōuchi clan under the name Ōuchi-ke kabi-gaki, also known as Ōuchi-uji okite-gaki, at the
end of the fifteenth century.761 Among the rules there is one article which states that,
“[r]egarding komosō, hōka [street entertainers], and saru-biki [street entertainers using
monkeys], they should be expelled from the area and its vicinities.”762 What this reference
shows is that the komosō were counted among street entertainers, and regarded as persona
non grata. (2) A scroll painting from 1494,763 depicting a poetry play between artisans – the
Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase, which I discuss in detail below (see Plates 19–22). Thus,
the komosō appear almost simultaneously in Ōuchi-ke kabi-gaki and Sanjūni-ban Shokunin
uta-awase, a scroll painting that is six years older than the Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin
uta-awase discussed above in Chapter 5.
761
Issued in 1486 (Bunemi 18) according to KOKUGO, Vol. 8, komosō: p. 412. Yahoo Hyakka-jiten states that it
was the Lord Ōuchi himself who edited and issued the law-book some time soon after 1495, but that it was largely
revised during the sixteenth century; YHJ, ōuchikekabegaki (大内家壁書), by Yamada Shō (山田渉, 1948–), accessed
on February 22, 2011.
762
KOKUGO, Vol. 8, komosō: p. 412. (薦僧、放下、猿引事、可払当所并近里事). The Ōuchi-uji okite-gaki is also
mentioned in Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 188, and Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi,
1997, 202.
763
In Ishida, ed., Nihon no bijutsu 5, 1977, 28, it is placed before the 71-ban, in the fifteenth century. The year 1494
seems to be the normally accepted year of completion, which is mentioned in the program notes for an exhibition of
scroll paintings (e-maki) at Tokushima Museum, May–August 1999:
http://www.museum.tokushima-ec.ed.jp/hasegawa/exhibition/shokunin.htm, accessed on February 23, 2011. There
are many existing copies from the Edo period.
187
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
764
述懐.
765
Ishida, ed., Nihon no bijutsu 5, 1977, 26.
766
Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase in Gunshoruijū (1779–1819). Shinkō Gunshoruijū, 1978, 39. (いはゆる田夫の花の
前にやすむハ、我家の風体なり。まさに花を題として、又おもひをのぶる一首をくはふ).
767
Ishida, ed., Nihon no bijutsu 5, 1977, 27.
768
勧進聖.
769
幸節静彦氏蔵・石井柳助氏蔵・天理図書館蔵.
770
Ishida, ed., Nihon no bijutsu 5, 1977, 27.
188
Chapter 6 – Constructing Tradition: The komosō and Shakuhachi
commentary added. In Nihon no bijutsu 5, Ishida Hisatoyo uses the Tenri-bon for the text,
rather than the Kōsetsu-bon, since the latter is lacking the second set of poems. The quotes
below are mainly from the Tenri-bon published in Nihon no bijutsu 5, but I have also
consulted other sources: Gunshoruijū, Shin-pen kokka taikan, and the edition at Tohoku
University Library (the latter in Plates 20–22).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Below I list the poems and the commentaries in Japanese, followed by separate analyses
of each part and translations into English. The poems are so-called tanka, with thirty-one
morae distributed over five stanza with 5-7-5-7-7 morae each (cf. Section 5.1.4, and
footnotes 629 and 660). As elsewhere, I
use a two-line model in my translations, Plate 21: Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase, Poem Number 6.
the stanzas separated by commas in the Used by courtesy of the Tohoku University Library.
original and in the transliterations. I
explain each stanza in the analysis, but the
translations are in a more free form,
without clear divisions between the
original stanzas. The first poem is read by
the san-oki, the second by the komosō.
After that there is a comment by the judge.
Poem number twenty-two has the same
order, first the san-oki and then the
komosō, followed by the judge’s
comment.
左 算をき
おくさんのさうしやうしたる花の時風をはいれぬ五形なりけり
hidari san-oki
oku san no, sōjō shitaru, hana no toki, kaze o ba irenu, gogyō narikeri.
Left diviner
In divination, reading the implications of the elements in spring time,
The wind I do not allow in, that is the way divination with (flower-)stalks should be
conducted.
The duel begins with the san-oki, a diviner or fortune-teller.771 The san-oki would use
sticks of bamboo or grass to tell a fortune. Here, there is a play on words: he may be using
sticks of the hahako-gusa.772 This herb is also known under the name o-gyō or go-gyō,
written as 御形.773 Here go-gyō is written with the non-standard characters 五形, and the
pronunciation alludes to another go-gyō, 五行, the five elements as they appear in the
771
The san-oki (算置き) is a fortune-teller who uses stalks to make a divination of the state of affairs, in accordance
with the Chinese classic I Ching (易経, J. Eki-kyō). KOKUGO, Vol. 9. sanoki: p. 201.
772
Gnaphalium affine D. Don, a form of Chrysanthemum, belonging to the family of Asteraceae. (母子草). Also
known in Japan as one of the seven spring herbs (春の七草).
773
KOKUGO, Vol. 10, hahakogusa: p. 399; 1976 (1974), Vol. 7, gogyō: p. 684.
190
Chapter 6 – Constructing Tradition: The komosō and Shakuhachi
Chinese classics: wood, fire, soil, metal, and water. 774 The word sōjō denotes the
constructive relation between these five elements,775 in contrast to sōkoku, the destructive
relation between the elements,776 a term that appears in the commentary to this poem.
The word gogyō alludes to the theme hana (the spring herbs hahakogusa or gogyō),
which is also used to set the time of the event, the season of flowers, hana no toki, thus
spring. It also suggests the activity of the fortune-teller: sōjō, reading the constructive
relation between the five elements, go-gyō. The first stanza, oku san no, connects to the
flower (hana): oku means to ‘lay,’ and san refers to the counting of flower-stalks in
fortune-telling. The stanza sōjō shitaru is an attribute to hana no toki, referring to the point
in time when the diviner sets in place (oku) his stalks of the flower (hana), by which he can
count (san) to tell the fortune through a ‘reading’ of the constructive elements (sōjō shitaru),
i.e., when the flower is used for divination by the diviner. But it is only by not letting in the
wind (kaze o ba irenu) that it is possible to establish the way of the five elements (gogyō
narikeri); the wind would ruin the position of the stalks, and thereby make it impossible to
read the stalks correctly.777 The monk responds to his poem in the following way:
右 こも僧
花ざかりふくとも誰かいとふべき風にはあらぬこもの尺八
migi komosō
hana-zakari, fuku tomo tareka, itou beki, kaze ni wa aranu, komo no shakuhachi
Right komosō
With the flowers in full bloom, who would mind even a spring breeze?
It is not the wind, but the shakuhachi of the komo.
The poem of the komosō begins by picking up the theme ‘flower’ with the stanza
hana-zakari – meaning “flowers in full bloom” – and then relating to the wind that the
fortune-teller does not like. The hana-zakari fuku tomo could be rendered as “even a spring
breeze,” and the question is put in the next stanza with the words “who would mind” (tareka
itou beki), implying that the spring breeze is a pleasant thing that people normally would not
dislike. The continuation twists things around: it is not the wind that blows (kaze ni aranu),
but rather the komosō who plays on (blows) his shakuhachi. Thereby, the san-oki could not
retort, since he is not disturbed in his activity.
774
KOKUGO, Vol. 7, gogyō: p. 684.
775
KOKUGO, Vol. 12, sōjō: p. 277. In the original text one finds sōshō, but the common reading is sōjō. The mark
used to indicate a voiced sound, dakuten, is left out. Also read sōsei. The explanation of the constructive circle of
the elements says that wood yields fire, fire is the necessary element to (re-)create soil, the soil is the repository for
metal, metal gives birth to water drops on its surface, and water is necessary to make a tree grow. (相生).
776
KOKUGO, Vol. 12, sōkoku: p. 260. Wood surpasses soil, soil defies water, water endures fire, fire wins over
metal, and metal excels wood. In other words: trees suck up the nourishment contained in the soil; wood can be used
to stop the flow of water; water will put out a fire; fire can melt metal; metal (in the form of an axe or other tool) can
be used to cut down trees. (相剋, also written as 相克).
777
According to lexica, the word gogyō also denotes five ways of practice (五行) as prescribed in the Nirvana Sutra.
This may be a possible connection to the supposedly Buddhist komosō. It would be an interesting link between the
two combattants, if we were to regard the san-oki as challenging the komosō. It is, however, beyond the topic of this
thesis to discuss this point further here. KOKUGO, Vol. 7, gogyō: p. 684. (聖行・梵行・天行・嬰児行・病行).
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6.1.2.2 The hanja’s Commentary to the First Set of Poems, Number Six
The commentary follows immediately after the first set of two tanka poems.
算道の指南五形の相尅相生を本體にて、一切の吉凶を判定する事なれば、花のときの相生に
風をばいれぬ五形と勘あけぬるはいと興あり、 薦僧の三昧紙きぬ肩にかけ面桶腰につけ、貴
賤の門戸によりて尺八ふくほかには別の業なき者にや、さればふくとも誰かいとふべきとい
ひて、風にはあらぬこもの尺八とよめるに花盛とをける五文字、風なき花の時節ふく尺八の
興は一しほなるべく、いひいたせる尤よろし、算をきの五形よりもこも僧の一曲やさしくき
こゆるにや
sandō no shinan gogyō no sōkoku-sōjō o hontai nite, issai no kikkyō o hantei suru
koto nareba, hana no toki no sōjō ni kaze o ba irenu gogyō to kan akenuru wa ito
kyō ari, komosō no sanmai kamikinu kata ni kake mentsu koshi ni tsuke, kisen no
monko ni yorite shakuhachi fuku hoka ni wa betsu no waza naki mono ni ya, sareba
fuku tomo tareka itou beki to iite, kaze ni wa aranu komo no shakuhachi to yomeru
ni hana-zakari to okeru gomoji, kaze naki hana no jisetsu fuku shakuhachi no kyō
wa hitoshio naru beku, ii-itaseru motto yoroshi, san-oki no gogyō yorimo komosō no
ikkyoku yasashiku kikoyuru ni ya.
The teaching of the mathematician-diviner has its origin, its true form, in telling the
destructive and constructive relations between the five elements, and from there to
judge all aspects of good and bad fortune. Therefore it is all the more interesting
that intuition dawns on him if he does not let in the wind when reading the stalks in
the time of spring.
The samādhi of the komosō, is it not wearing paper garments over their shoulders
and a begging bowl at their waists, visiting the houses of rich and poor, playing
their shakuhachi, not having any other things they can do? Well, the poem reads
“who would mind even if it blows,” and then continues “it is not the wind but the
shakuhachi of the komo.” Thanks to this phrasing, adding the five syllables
hana-zakari, in the midst of spring, the interesting aspect of the poem, the blowing
shakuhachi in the windless season of the flowers, is strongly enhanced. The
phrasing is at its best, and it is the better poem. Is not a piece by the komosō more
pleasing than the stalks of the fortune-teller?
Firstly there is a reference to the activity of the san-oki, beginning with sandō no shinan,
literally “the teaching of the arithmetician,” which has as its true form or origin (hontai) the
sōkoku sōjō, meaning the interplay between the destructive and constructive aspects of the
five elements (gogyō),778 but again gogyō is written with the Chinese characters referring to
the plant hahako-gusa. To be able to judge (hantei suru koto) the fortune as a whole in all its
good and bad aspects (issai no kikkyō), is what is contained in the teaching of the
mathematician.
The relationship between the fortune-teller and the mathematician may sound somewhat
curious. In the Tsurugaoka hōjō-e Shokunin uta-awase, there is a painting of a sandō (pair
two, right), written as 笇道.779 The sandō in the Tsurugaoka hōjō-e Shokunin uta-awase is
not sitting in a hut, but he is using stalks in a similar fashion as the san-oki in the
Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase painting. There is an obvious connection between the
sandō and the san-oki, for whom counting is an essential part of the divination. They are
778
See above, Section 5.1.2.1.
779
笇 has the Sino-Japanese reading san, and the Japanese reading kazoeru, same as 算道.
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also using the same type of stalks, and wear similar kinds of garment and hat.780
The commentary continues: since the work of the sandō consists of judging the fortune, it
is all the more interesting (ito kyō ari) that by not letting the wind in (kaze o ba irenu) when
reading the stalks (gogyō) in spring (hana no toki no sōjō ni), his intuition (kan, the thinking
about and perception of the stalks) dawns (akenuru) on him.
The hanja then continues to discuss the poem of the komo. Firstly, the commentary
explains what the religious activities of the komosō consist of (komosō no sanmai). The
word sanmai, samādhi in Sanskrit, refers in Buddhist terminology to a mental concentration,
the composition of the rightful mind, or a perfect state of spiritual concentration, and it is a
central concept in Buddhism. I interpret the word in this context as referring to the religious
activities of the komosō: the religious mind of the komosō. The monks are said to wear a
light paper garment, carrying a begging bowl at their waist. The commentary also states that
“the komosō visit the houses of both rich and poor, playing the shakuhachi – that is all they
can do” (kisen no monko ni yorite shakuhachi fuku hoka ni wa betsu no waza naki mono).
The word waza translates as ‘art,’ ‘ability,’ and ‘work,’ but it can also be translated as “acts
with a deep meaning or intention.”781 Hence, the word waza in this context could be
interpreted as referring to both their acts and deep intention in these acts. The word is then
negated (naki), which gives the sense of people who have no other abilities, and no deeper
intentions with their playing. This sentence ends with the particle ya, which shows that it is
a question, but in a more rhetorical, and I would even say ironical, sense: Isn’t it so that their
religious activities consist of wearing light clothing and a beggar’s bowl, playing shakuhachi
when begging at people’s doors, without any other deeper thoughts or intentions?
Kamisangō holds that the use of the word sanmai (三昧), taken together with the use of the
characters 虚妄僧 for komosō, indicates that these monks “were not simple beggars, but had a
Buddhist nuance.” 782 In Blasdel’s translation this is rendered as, “[they] were actually
involved in Buddhist disciplines.”783 As mentioned above, the combination of characters 虚
妄僧 for komosō is not a common usage, and I discuss this point in greater detail in Section
6.1.3.1 below. I argue that the use of these characters indicates an ironical or even
derogative way of writing the name of the monks, rather than implying sincere religious
activities or motives.
However, presupposing that the characters 虚妄 are to be interpreted as having deeper
religious implications, a token of sincere Buddhist activities, and that sanmai (三昧) should
be read in its Buddhist denotation,784 Kamisangō’s interpretation of this section is not fully
comprehensible. If the komo monks ‘absorbedness’ consists in visiting the houses of rich
and poor, the religious implications of sanmai seem slightly vague. The commentary asserts
that their religious activity consists of visiting the houses of rich and poor, but it is obviously
an ironic, or even derogatory, comment. Their appearance and begging is not in accordance
780
KOKUGO, Vol. 9, sandō: p. 286; san-oki: p. 201.
781
KOGO, waza: p. 1428.
782
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 75.
783
Kamisangō translated in Blasdel, The Shakuhachi… (1988), 2008, 82.
784
The word sanmai can be used as a suffix, read as -zanmai, meaning an indulgence in something, or that one does
things as one likes. This usage, going back to Medieval times, does however require that -zanmai is a suffix to a
noun. In the text it reads komoō no sanmai, i.e., with the particle no inserted, and the reading -zanmai is thus not
possible.
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with the normal concept of samādhi, a state of high spiritual concentration. I would interpret
this word here to mean that they are devoted to begging, or even that begging is all they do,
since they are poeple with no other abilities and without deeper intentions, hoka ni wa betsu
no waza naki mono.
As mentioned above, begging is also obvious from the fact that they were carrying a
begging bowl (mentsu) by their waist. They were wearing a light paper garment, kami-ginu,
which could imply a slightly shabby image, but the kami-ginu was a common robe up to the
latter half of the sixteenth century, when its cheap price made it the preferred robe for poor
people.785 The komosō in the painting is not shaved, his hair is tied in a knot, and he wears a
moustache. This may give an impression of shabbiness, and a lesser degree of engagement
in true Buddhist religious activities. The straw mat, komo, is obviously part of his
belongings. It would be used for sleeping outdoors, which indicates a rootlessness; the
komosō were probably mendicant monks, maybe not having become proper monks (shukke)
but more of a commoner or civilian monk conducting their own activites. They visit the
houses of rich and poor (kisen no monko ni yorite) and play the shakuhachi, and that is all
they are good for, all that they have an ability to do; they are people with no other skills
(hoka ni wa betsu no waza naki mono). This part of the commentary seems to relate not only
to the komosō depicted, but to komosō in general, as an explanation of the kind of people
they are, in the same way as the first part of the commentary describes the activity of the
san-oki.
The continuation of the commentary begins with sareba, which could mean either “that is
so and therefore …,” connecting to what has been said, or simply “Well then,” and the
remaining part of the commentary is concerned with the tanka at hand, rather than with the
komosō and their appearance in general. The commentator quotes the tanka: “‘even blowing,
who would mind’ it says, and [the poem] continues with ‘it is not the wind but the
shakuhachi of the komo’.” Because of this wording (to yomeru ni, i.e., to yonde iru node),
adding the five-syllable hana-zakari, the interesting aspect (kyō) of the blowing shakuhachi
(fuku shakuhachi) in the windless season of the flowers (kaze naki hana no jisetsu) is
enhanced (hitoshio).786 The commentary continues with the evaluation: the word itaseru
should here be interpreted in the meaning ‘reaching the peak,’ ‘being on the top of,’ etc. The
word ii is a noun, in this context denoting ‘wording’; the phrasing of the poem is at its best
(motto yoroshi). The final comment is that a piece by the komosō (komosō no ikkyoku)
sounds more amiable (yasashiku kikoyu) than the stalks of the diviner.
The komosō wins the battle, but the commentary leaves an impresson of the komosō as
monks with less serious views on the religious aspects. Poetically, the wit of the komo wins
him the first ‘flower duel,’ but the impression that “only visiting houses is all they can do,”
taken together with the mushiro (straw mat) behind him, and the mentsu (beggar’s bowl)
with which they would beg for food, relates an image of a shabby beggar, witty as he may
be, but with little or no cultivation.
785
The kami-ginu (also read kami-ko) is a garment made of paper and glue, treated with persimmon. Originally used
by monks of the Heian period Risshū sect, and a popular garment among both rich and poor. Due to its low price it
became the garment of poor people from around the Momoyama period through the Edo period. (紙衣). KOKUGO,
Vol. 5, kamiko: p. 127. This is the same paper garment that the boro-boro is reported to have worn.
786
The word hitoshio means ‘conspicuously,’ or ‘all the more,’ and I interpret it here as an enhancement of the
phrasing “blowing shakuhachi.” KOGO, hitoshiho: p. 1124. (一入).
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Chapter 6 – Constructing Tradition: The komosō and Shakuhachi
左 算をき
こし程の、かり屋のうちに、身を々ける、さん所のもの々、うらめしの世や
hidari san-oki
koshi hodo no, kari-ya no uchi ni, mi o okeru, sanjo no mono no, urameshi no yo ya
Left Diviner
The palanquin size, temporary lodging in which I dwell,
Even though the place for divination, alas, it is a reproachful world.
The first stanza, koshi hodo no, could translate either as “not taller than the waist [腰],” or
“the size of a palanquin [輿],” but the shape and size of the hut in the painting looks more
like a palanquin than a hut that is no higher than up to the waist. The character for palanquin
(輿) is also used in the commentary. The second stanza, kari-ya no uchi ni, refers to a
787
Kitamura, Kiyūshōran (1830), 1906, 38. (前に引る「職人尽」のさまと似たれども鉢巻せず紙ぎぬハ袖なくて放ちて着たり
腰に面桶と薦の巻きたるを付たり薦ハ野外露宿の用意なり今宿なしの乞食をこもといふ…).
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temporary lodging, as in 仮屋, thus implying that the san-oki lives in this little hut, where he
also conducts his divination. The third stanza, mi o okeru, connects both to the second stanza
and to the following one, stanza four: kari-ya no uchi ni mi o okeru, meaning that he “puts”
his body (mi) in the hut, thus lives there. The word okeru also connects to okeru sanjo,
where sanjo is the place for divination, and okeru sanjo would thus refer to the place where
divination can be conducted – a place where you can put the stalks for divination. The word
mono could refer either to the thing (物) of divination, but also to the person (者) doing the
divination, the san-oki himself. In the last line, urameshi no yo ya, the word ura could refer
to divination (占), but urameshi is an adjective meaning ‘regrettable,’ ‘reproachful,’ ‘bitter,’
or ‘hateful’: he, the diviner, reproaches this bitter existence of having to live a life of
divination in a small hut.
右 こも僧
さし入も、みそやさかやの、かすほうし、声をかへても、こふは茶がはり
migi komosō
sashi-iri mo, misoya sakaya no, kasu-hōshi, koe o kahete mo, kou wa cha-gawari
Right Komosō
Just inside the door, at miso and sake shops, a dreg-monk
In whatever voice, just begging for left-overs.
The komosō, on the other hand, begins his poem with the stanza sashi-iri mo, where
sashi-iri means ‘entering,’ or ‘just inside the door.’ The second stanza relates to the
miso-ya788 and saka-ya, the bean paste shop and the sake shop, thereby alluding to the
kari-ya in the san-oki’s poem. The third stanza, kasu-hōshi, is a key phrase. The word kasu
could mean the residues (糟・粕・滓) when making miso and sake, the lees, thus implying a
‘dreg-monk,’ but with the pronunciation kazu, used as a prefix, it can also mean ‘many,’ as
well as ‘cheap’ or ‘crude.’ The fourth stanza relates to the kasu-hōshi, who begs, but
changes his voice, i.e., plays the shakuhachi instead of verbally asking for alms. It also
connects to the last stanza, where what is begged for (kou) is merely tea-money
(cha-gawari).
788
A note on the word misoya in the different editions: Kitamura in Kiyūshōran has みるや (miruya), Ishida in Nihon
no bijutsu 5 (reprint of the Tenri-bon) has 見そや (misoya). Neither of these seem to make sense. In the 1651 copy in
Plate 22, it is みそや (misoya) in sōsho writing. In the Gunshoruijū reprint it also reads みそや. In the commentary,
both Kiyūshōran and Nihon no bijutsu 5 have みそにも酒にも (miso ni mo sake ni mo), and in the 1651 copy it appears
to read the same. Maybe the miru ya in the 1906 publication of Kiyūshōran was a mis-set of the types (る and そ
look similar), but the 見そや in Nihon no bijutsu 5 is more problematic. I will understand this part as みそや (misoya),
and my belief is that 見 has been used phonetically.
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Chapter 6 – Constructing Tradition: The komosō and Shakuhachi
6.1.2.4 Analysis of the Commentary to the Second Set of Poems, Number Twenty-two
算をきの述懐輿ほどのかりやのうちさぞとをしはかられ侍りがうなの貝かたつぶりの家もみ
なをのが身にあはせては不足なきにや五尺の身三尺のかりやにてひねもすとふ人を侍ゐたり
一生涯の果報をも自身にかんがへぬらんをけるさん所といひさん所のもの々卜とつづけぬる
いとよくいひくさりぬるにやこも僧の歌かずほうしに乞食の愁吟をゆづりてわづかなる竹の
ふしに世をわぶるこゑをきりいだしけんもわりなき方便とこそおぼえ侍れみそにも酒にもは
なれぬ詞にて此糟法師いひしりてきこゆ此つがひ持にて侍るべし
san-oki no jukkai, koshi hodo no kari-ya no uchi sazo to oshihakarare haberi ga,
una no kai katatsuburi no ie mo minawo no ga mi ni awasete wa busoku naki ni ya
go-shaku no mi san-shaku no kari-ya nite hinemosu tofu hito o haberi itari isshōgai
no kahō o mo jishin ni kangaenuran okeru sanjo to ihi sanjo no mono no ura to
tsuzukenuru ito yoku ii-kusarinuru ni ya komosō no uta kazuhōshi ni kojiki no
shūgin o yuzurite wazuka naru take no fushi ni yo o waburu koe o kiri-idashiken mo
wari naki hōben to koso oboe habere miso ni mo sake ni mo narenu kotoba nite kono
kasu hōshi ii-shirite kikoyu kono tsugai mochi nite haberu beshi.
The thoughts of the diviner: A temporary dwelling, the size of a palanquin, we can
well understand that it is narrow, but like the houses of the shellfish in the sea and
the snails, as long as it is fit to the inhabitant there should not be any insufficiency.
The diviner, sitting in his small hut the whole day, waiting for people to come by,
must be thinking about what good fortunes will come to him. Writing “the place to
conduct divination” [okeru sanjo], and continuing with “the divination by the
person at the place for divination” [sanjo no mono no ura] is indeed a very good
linking of words.
The poem by the komosō: There are many of the crude dreg-monks, walking the
path of the Way of Hell, who have taken over the grief-stricken lament of the
beggars. They express their feelings towards this wretched and miserable world
through their bamboo flutes, but this is just a means of arranging the words, with no
reason or deeper thought. However, by using a word that is so strongly connected
to the residues of miso and sake making, the dreg-monk does show that he has
mastered a good way of expression. The contest of this pair is a draw.
Here the commentator uses the character for a palanquin (輿), saying that anyone could
understand it is small. However, even the houses of the shellfish in the sea (here una no kai
means umi no kai), and the snails (here katatsuburi means katatsumuri), are small, but if
everyone fit themselves in their houses (ono ga mi ni awasete wa) nobody need ask for
anything more (busoku ga nai), thus, there is no need to feel reproach towards one’s
dwelling. The san-oki (go-shaku no mi refers to a grown man, five foot tall) lives in his
small dwelling (san-jaku no kari-ya, a three foot dwelling), where he waits the whole day
(hinemosu 終日, from morning to evening) for customers asking for divination (tou hito). He
spends his whole life thinking about his luck and good fortune (isshōgai no kahō o mo jishin
ni kangahenuru). The commentator continues by stating that using the words okeru sanjo in
combination with the divination at the sanjo (sanjo no mono no ura) is a very clever turn of
phrase, chaining it together (ito yoku ihikusarinuru). The Chinese character 卜 can be read
either as boku, uranai or, for short, ura. To make a connection between uranai (boku) and
urameshi, I assume the reading to be ura. The word ii-kusari should be interpreted as ‘say’
combined with ‘chain together,’ thus “chaining the words” (ii-kusari).
As for the poem by the komosō, the commentator uses kazu-hōshi, which could mean ‘a
great number of hōshi’ but also a ‘cheap and crude hōshi,’ as mentioned above. Since kasu
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
is used in the actual poem, kazu here also would allude to the residues of miso and sake
making. Another interpretation would be that kazu refers to one of the ways one has to pass
at the sanzu no kawa (like the river Styx); the word kazu (火途) refers to hell or jigokudō (地
789
獄道). The effect is a four-fold allusion: “a great number of crude dreg-monks walking the
path to hell.” The word shūgin means to worry and lament, and the kazu-hōshi are said to
take over the grief-stricken lament (shūgin) of the beggars (kojiki). They are further said to
express their feelings toward this wretched and miserable world (yo o waburu koe o
kiri-idashikemu) through the nodes of their bamboo flutes (take no fushi ni). But, says the
commentator, this is just a manner of speaking, mere words with no reason or thought
behind them (wari naki 理なき), and should be seen only as a means of expression (hōben to
koso habere). However, the commentator continues, by using a word that is so strongly
connected to miso and sake, it does sound as if these kasu-hōshi (here written as dreg-monks,
糟法師) really know how to express themselves (ii-shirite). The result of the uta-awase is a
draw (mochi).
789
KOKUGO, Vol. 4, kazu: p. 571. The other two places to cross, or pathes to wander, are tōzu (刀途), which refers
to the gakidō (餓鬼道) or the Way of Demons, and kechizu (血途), which refers to the chikushōdō (畜生道) or the Way
of Beasts.
790
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 75.
791
甘露寺元長, 1453–1527.
792
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 183–184.
793
Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi, 1997, 199.
794
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 19.
795
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 46.
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Chapter 6 – Constructing Tradition: The komosō and Shakuhachi
796
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 87.
797
Ishida, ed., Nihon no bijutsu 5, 1977, 98, 101.
798
An Edo period writer, poet and artist. (山東京傅, 1761–1816). His real name was Iwase Samuru (岩瀨醒), also
known as Kyōya Denzō (京屋伝蔵),
799
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 86.
800
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 45–46.
801
Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase in Gunshoruijū. Shinkō Gunshoruijū, Vol. 22, 1978, pp. 39, 41, 45, 48.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
More recent writers, Ueno, Takeda, Tsukitani, and Kamisangō make slightly different
comments about the use of the characters 虚妄, but the only explication of the use of the
Chinese characters 虚妄 that I have found is in Kamisangō. He uses 虚妄 in the title, but 薦 in
the text. He also states that the komosō were called komo, and there he uses the syllabic こも.
Kamisangō’s comments require some attention, since his explication and comments are
often referred to in the English speaking community (both academic and non-academic).
This is presumably due to the fact that Kamisangō’s text is the only text that has been
translated in full.802
Kamisangō holds that the use of the (near) phonetic-equivalent characters 虚, emptiness,
and 妄, illusion, rather than the more shabby image of a 薦, straw mat monk, “tells us that
there was a foundation for the later use of the characters 虚無僧 [read as komusō] from early
on.”803 I would assume that Kamisangō refers to the close phonetical equivalence between
komosō and komusō, but in Blasdel’s translation this is rendered in the following way:
Originally, the Chinese characters for komosō were written with komo (薦) straw mat and
sō (僧) monk; ideographs that conveys a feeling of mendicancy and shabbiness. The title
for the above poem [number six in 32-ban] is written with characters ko (虚) emptiness,
mo (妄) illusion and sō (僧) monk, and this combination of characters conveys a more
serious, religious feeling.804
The use of 虚妄 is also referred to by Riley Lee, and he too states that the use of these
characters convey “a much greater sense of other-worldliness and spirituality than the
original word komo,”805 which is perfectly in line with Blasdel’s adaptation of Kamisangō’s
words.
On the other hand, the word kyomō (虚妄) is part of the standard vocabulary, with the
meaning ‘falsehood’ or ‘delusion,’ which makes the interpretation a little more difficult; the
idea of a ‘monk of empty illusions,’ or even ‘monk of untruthfullness’ does not give a strong
sense of serious religious activity. As noted above, the characters 薦僧 are used in the
commentary, which makes the title more intriguing when written as 虚妄僧. As I mention
above, my investigation of various copies of Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase does not
support this interpretation. There may be other secondary sources from the sixteenth and up
to the early twentieth century, but I have not found any such sources. None of the
twentieth-century studies that I use in the present research report any such secondary
sources. The earliest appearance of these characters that I have been able to find is in the late
eighteenth-century edition published in the above-mentioned Gunshoruijū.
The fact that most existing twentieth-century secondary studies of the shakuhachi use the
Chinese characters 虚妄 without any further discussion, may have the result that readers and
researchers take the interpretation put forward by the scholar Kamisangō for granted, as the
established theory. Likewise, Blasdel’s and Lee’s renderings may become the standard
interpretation of the komosō in Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase in the English speaking
802
Adapted and translated by Christopher Yohmei Blasdel in The Shakuhachi: A Manual for Learning, 1988, pp.
37–132. New revised edition published in 2008, pp. 69–128.
803
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 75.
804
Kamisangō translated in Blasdel, The Shakuhachi… (1988), 2008, 82.
805
Lee, Yearning for the Bell …, 1993, 104.
200
Chapter 6 – Constructing Tradition: The komosō and Shakuhachi
806
E.g., Deeg simply reiterates previous research (“Komusō and ‘Shakuhachi-Zen’,” 2007, 15).
807
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 183.
808
Ibid., 183–184.
809
Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi, 1997, 199–200.
810
Ibid., 149. (胡乱な虚妄僧). Honda Masazumi (本多正純, 1565–1637).
811
近世奇跡考.
201
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
in 1813. 812 In the Kottō-shū there are some remarks about the Sanjūni-ban Shokunin
uta-awase, but none that discuss pair number six,813 and in Kinsei kiseki-kō the Sanjūni-ban
Shokunin uta-awase is not mentioned at all.814 We may assume that Kurihara quoted either
some other source by Santō Kyōden815 or a completely different text, e.g., Gunshoruijū.
In the Edo period Kiyūshōran, published in 1830, the word komo, written both as こも and
816
薦, is used without the addition of the Chinese character for ‘monk,’ 僧, except in the
direct quotes. To perceive the characters 虚妄僧 as the original way of writing komosō around
the turn of the sixteenth century seems highly unlikely and questionable, especially if the
characters are supposed to be interpreted as revealing a sincere Buddhist attitude.
Furthermore, it does not seem to have become the conventional way of writing komosō in
the early nineteenth century. I believe that a misinterpretation of how these characters were
used may give rise to a misunderstanding and misconception of the position that the komosō
had in society during the Muromachi period, and possibly also the Edo period. Takeda states
that various non-standard characters were used in the Edo period: “komusō 虚無僧 was, in the
early days of the Edo period, written as komosō 薦僧 or komosō 虚妄僧, komosō 籠僧 [籠
meaning ‘seclusion’], komosō 菰僧 [菰 is another character denoting ‘straw mat’], komusō 古
無僧 [古 means ‘old’ and 無 ‘nothingness’] or komusō 普化僧 [the characters 普化 are normally
read fuke, the name of the monk Fuke],”817 indicating that a variety of non-standard – not
necessarily phonetic-equivalent – characters were in vogue. The reading komu did, however,
not appear until the Edo period, when the group of samurai that began acting as komosō or
komusō first appeared (cf. Chapter 4). There was no standard way of writing these words, so
different writers used different characters, whether meaning ‘delusion,’ ‘seclusion,’ or
‘straw mat.’ I would argue that this might imply that the first komusō preferred certain ways
of writing, but that their preference was not always accepted by the contemporary society.
A further study of the Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase may give an answer to these
questions. Takeda does not state where the other characters are used, but we know that the
character compound 古無僧, for example, was used in the 1614 Keichō kenmon-shū (cf.
Section 4.5.3.2). To delve any deeper into this matter here is beyond the scope of the present
study, but I find the issue interesting and important, and my hope is that future studies will
give a more straightforward answer.
812
骨董集.
813
Santō Kyōden, Kottō-shū (1813), accessed in April and May 2009.
814
Santō Kyōden, Kinsei kiseki-kō (1804), 1994.
815
As a writer of popular novels in the Edo period, Santō Kyōden is known to have used a vast array of allusions, to
a degree where it might be possible to say that witty allusions were his trademark, or at least an important and
integral part of his literary skills. To assume, unless proof is found, that Santō Kyōden ‘invented’ the use of the
characters 虚妄僧 to give the double connotation of ‘religiously inclined liars,’ would not be in contradiction of the
style in Santō Kyōden’s writing.
816
Kitamura, Kiyūshōran (1830), 1906, 37–43.
817
Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi, 1997, 27. Takeda is using the incorrect “Fuke Zenji.”
202
Chapter 6 – Constructing Tradition: The komosō and Shakuhachi
818
Ibid., 202.
819
Ibid., 204–205.
820
Hosaka, “Jūnana seiki ni okeru komusō no seisei,” 1994, 173. (役に立たない糟法師).
821
宗長; 夢安; I have not been able to confirm the reading of the friend’s name, 紹崇. Based on the normal reading of
the characters it may be Shōsū.
822
The founder of the Jishū (時宗) sect of Jōdo-shū, Ippen (一遍, 1239–89), is referred to both as yugyō-shōnin (遊行
上人), the wandering holy man, and sute-hijiri (捨聖), the thrown-away commoner monk. He propagated the idea that
even a single recitation of the Nenbutsu would take all people to the Pure Land. He was trained in the Tendai
Buddhism, but became a second generation disciple of Hōnen (DAIJIRIN, ippen), and also had affiliations with the
esoteric Shingon Buddhism and Zen (YHJ, ippen (一遍), by Hirokami Kiyoshi (広神清), accessed on March 19, 2009).
At age 36 he confined himself in the Kumano Hongū Shōjōden (熊野本宮証誠殿), where he received a divine
message.
823
Hosaka, “Jūnana seiki ni okeru komusō no seisei,” 1994, 176. (少なくも、時宗・臨済宗下の僧侶から、尺八吹奏を専業
とする薦僧に転身した図式が明らかである。). I assume that Hosaka refers to the Kantian notion of Schema with the word
zushiki. A Schema is the procedure of associating a non-empirical concept with an image of the object, i.e., that we
can envisage the way in which this turnover from monk to komosō happened.
203
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
204
Chapter 6 – Constructing Tradition: The komosō and Shakuhachi
As I argue in Chapter 4, I find it more likely that the people who first began using the
name komusō made use of the earlier existence of shakuhachi-playing monks, some of
whom may have been influenced by Fuke through the writings of Ikkyū and the Rinzai-roku.
By connecting their activities to Fuke, Ikkyū Sōjun, Hottō Kokushi, and the boro that
appear in the widely circulated and highly valued Tsurezure-gusa, the masterless samurai of
the late Muromachi and early Edo periods were able to carve out a social footing for
themselves. Without any steady job, by playing the shakuhachi they were able to travel
freely, support themselves by begging, and still keep their position as samurai.
833
洛中洛外図屏風.
834
Ishida, ed., Nihon no bijutsu 5, 1977, 33.
205
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Tosa Mitsunobu began this screen painting in 1506, when he depicted central parts of
Kyoto on a screen. Unfortunately, these early originals are not known to be extant. The
oldest existing example is the Machida-bon (Plates 23 and 24), depicting Kyoto in the 1530s.
The second oldest edition is the Uesugi-bon (Plate 25), supposedly presented to Uesugi
Kenshin by Oda Nobunaga.835 An abundant number of screens with the same motives were
produced during the Edo period. The only additions in those Edo period versions are Nijō-jō
castle and Gion that were added in the first half of the seventeenth century.836
The komosō in this screen painting is
Plate 24: Rakuchū-rakugai-zu byōbu, detail of Plate 23.
30–40 years later than the komosō in
Courtesy of the National Museum of Japanese History.
Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase, but they
have a similar appearance: carrying their
straw mats, unshaven heads, probably a
beggar’s bowl by their waist, and not
fancily dressed.
The Uesugi-bon is approximately thirty
years younger than the Machida-bon, at the
latest it must have been made before 1582,
the year that Oda Nobunaga died. In the
Uesugi-bon I have not been able to locate
any komosō in the same area as in the
Machida-bon, but close by, there are two
people that appear to be komosō, carrying
straw mats by their waist, and playing
shakuhachi (Plate 25).
206
Chapter 6 – Constructing Tradition: The komosō and Shakuhachi
Shokunin uta-awase. There is no overlapping of artisans between the two scroll paintings
under discussion here,837 which means that among the one-hundred seventy-four artisans
depicted in these two scroll paintings, thirty-one have been selected to appear in the screen
painting. Among them we find the komosō. If the komosō were a rare existence it is highly
unlikely that they would appear in the screen painting, considering that it seems likely that
Tosa Mitsunobu, “[around 1506] had more or less established the motif of the screen
painting.”838
If so, and if it was a conscious choice to select the artisans depicted as the motifs, then we
must conclude that the komosō had established themselves as an element in the
contemporary society. This neither confirms nor contradicts any assumption about their
religiosity, but it does, however, indicate that they acted as beggars or entertainers and not
as monks. In the screen painting there are also what appear to be uma-hijiri and nenbutsu
practitioners (like the boro), Zen practitioners, yama-bushi, biwa-hōshi, practitioners of the
Hokke sect (Nichiren Buddhism), as well as a number of street entertainers, e.g., saru-biki.
This implies that the komosō were a different kind of personage, thus, not to be confused
with these monks or lay practitioners. The fact that the komosō are begging by playing
shakuhachi, indicates the general view of the komosō in the Japanese society towards the
close of the sixteenth century.
837
Ishida, ed., Nihon no bijutsu 5, 1977, 26–27.
838
KOKUGO/OR: rakuchūrakugaizu, accessed on February 26, 2011. (洛中洛外図については、1506 年(永正 3)土佐光
信(とさみつのぶ)が「京中」を屏風に描いたことが『実隆公記(さねたかこうき)』の記事で知られ、ほぼこのころまでには画
題として成立していたとみられるが、残念ながらそこまでさかのぼる遺品はない。).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Tsukitani Tsuneko remarks that the earliest historical record asserting that the komosō
became komusō of the Fuke sect is Kiyūshōran of 1830.839 In a footnote to this passage she
does, however, accept Takeda Kyōson’s view that the boro and komosō were originally
different groupings, that they later melded together, that the boro became extinct, and that
the komosō became komusō in the early Edo period. Furthermore, she states that the studies
conducted by the historian Hosaka Hirooki, where he argues for the lack of continuity
between the boro and the komosō and the existence of continuity between the komosō and
the komusō, are “highly suggestive” when investigating the formation of the komusō.840
Based on my analyses, however, I argue that there is a lack of conclusive evidence of any
connection between the boro and the komosō, and with respect to the komosō, to move from
the lowest level of society to become an Edo period komusō would include a tremendous
social climb, probably not seen since Zeami went from a low-ranking artist to become the
protege of the shōgun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu. The komusō were samurai, and for a simple
komosō to rise to the ranks of a komusō would be a very hard thing to achieve. Hosaka
assumes that the komosō, as a group of entertainers, turned to Fuke and his Zen doctrines to
become komusō.841 Regardless of the appearance of the word komozō identified as Fuke
monks in the Muromachi dictionaries discussed above, I find this highly unlikely. Even if
there were some monks who had a liking for Fuke, or maybe even regarded Fuke as a kind
of komosō, the other primary sources relating to komosō reveal a different picture. I argue
against the viewpoint put forward by Takeda and Hosaka for at least the following reason: if
there were masses of komosō roaming around in the country, eventually becoming monks of
some undefined denomination, who then became members of the group of komusō, there
must have been cadres of people taking the role of new rōnin/samurai. Furthermore, the
komosō depicted in Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase does not appear to be a kind of person
one would assume to pick up the doctrines of Fuke, or read the poems by Ikkyū, even if it
was out of pure necessity in order to survive. The visual sources from the sixteenth century
also include the screen paintings mentioned above. If monks of noble birth had begun to
take the role of komosō, or the komosō had begun to appear as studied monks, they would
hardly conduct their religious activities, i.e., begging, dressed as they apparently were. One
finds no doctrine, no verbal or visual elements in the primary sources that relate to Fuke or
the views Ikkyū develops in relation to Fuke. This, too, would be an argument againt the
assumption that there was an early changeover, where komosō became followers of Fuke.
Hosaka is, however, not clear as to whether he regards the komusō as komosō turned into
monks, or whether laymen and monks began to appear as komosō. He argues that people
from different groups of entertainers became komosō after they had left the group they
originally belonged to, and that these komosō learned the teachings of Fuke. He also states
that some of the komosō did not originate from entertainers, but had belonged to some
Buddhist denomination before turning into komosō.842 His argument of how this happened is,
however, based on association or visualization of possible connections.
839
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 12. (薦僧が普化宗の虚無僧となる話は『嬉遊笑覧』を始まりと
する).
840
Ibid., 19. (きわめて示唆的である). Tsukitani refers to Hosaka Hirooki, “Jūhachi seiki ni okeru komusō no mibun
keisei,” 1990, and “Jūnana seiki ni okeru komusō no seisei,” 1994.
841
Hosaka, “Jūnana seiki ni okeru komusō no seisei,” 1994, 181.
842
Ibid., 176, 177, 181.
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Chapter 6 – Constructing Tradition: The komosō and Shakuhachi
There is no reference in the text to a denomination to which the komosō may have
belonged. The boro in the Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase is a practitioner of nenbutsu
(Jōdo-shū, or older schools of Buddhism), he is a preacher, half monk half layman, but with
a certain level of cultivation and classical studies. In contrast to this, the komosō appearing
in the Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase is not cultivated, he does not make any references to
classical poetry or Zen Buddhist thought, but according to the commentary simply shows
that he has learned how to use words in a witty way. Wit would of course be an important
personal trait for a successful beggar: even if he changes his voice, whether he begs with
words or with his shakuhachi, even if he talks well and in a witty fashion, or plays well, he
is still not doing anyhing more than begging for left-overs.
Yet another aspect which must be noted is that the commentary to the komo’s poem
number six reveals that a piece played by the komosō is much more pleasant than the sound
of the diviner’s stalks. Maybe not a good comparison, but the musical qualities of the
komo’s playing are evaluated and, to some extent, praised. In the Shichiku shoshin-shū from
1664 the playing of the early Edo period komusō is evaluated in the following way:
“Recently there are these komusō … [and they] have different pieces, but whatever they play
it doesn’t sound as something that is tuned to the standard tones.”843
Without being able to establish any connection with the content of the religious activities
or to a specific denomination, and without any references to the musical aspects of the
shakuhachi playing, the connection between the komosō and the komusō must be evaluated
as extremely vague. They also differ widely in respect to their social status: the komosō
were mendicant beggar monks, in the lowest strata of the contemporary society, whereas the
komusō had a social status as samurai.
843
Nakamura, Shichiku shoshin-shū (1664), 1976, 4. (近き此不人といふこむ僧有て、…さまざまの手有之、いづれも律呂の
調子にあはせたる物とは聞えず).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
The main topic of Chapters 4–6 was to investigate, analyse, and discuss some historical
aspects of shakuhachi. One aim of this study is to prove my hypothesis that the assumed
connections between the different types of monks in older history – boro, komosō, and
komusō – are construed, for reasons of creating authenticity. The Edo period komusō
constructed tradition; they created an origin and invented a tradition for socio-political
reasons. In the twentieth-century historical studies of shakuhachi a partly new shakuhachi
tradition has been constructed, after the original invention of a tradition had been disclosed.
The re-constructed or re-created tradition places the ‘shakuhachi tradition’ much further
back in history than – I argue – can be substantiated by the investigated primary sources.
Section 7.1 contains a discussion of these aspects from the three dimensions of Nattiez’s
tripartitional model (cf. Section 1.6): the Neutral, Esthesic, and Poietic Dimensions
respectively. As mentioned in Section 1.6, I regard these words as theoretical terms. I
capitalize them to avoid confusion with any other ordinary usage of the words: the Poietic
Processes are processes in the Poietic Dimension, i.e., the dimension of creation, that result
in a physical object, the Neutral Trace, which can be experienced by a receiver – listener or
reader – on the Esthesic Level.
Ikkyū is a symbolic figure in the Zen tradition. It is likely that the komusō, or even their
supposed predecessors komosō, were inspired by Ikkyū’s poems, but the komusō never
mention him. In some of the twentieth-century writings he is, however, given a more overt
position in the alledged ‘tradition’ as a possible ‘first komosō.’ Another important symbolic
figure in the history of Japan is Shōtoku Taishi, the revered Prince and regent of Empress
Suiko, who supposedly played shakuhachi around the turn of the seventh century according
to some historical sources. References to historically significant names in the cultural field
is one way of giving authenticity to the tradition, and Section 7.2 contains a discussion of
the shakuhachi’s purported connection to these imposing historical characters – Ikkyū and
Shōtoku Taishi – from the Neutral, Esthesic, and Poietic Dimensions. I believe that a
discussion of the impact these historical persons have had on the shakuhachi tradition
indicates the ease with which a connection is, or can be, created.
210
Chapter 7 – (Re-)Constructing Tradition: Discussion and Conclusions
211
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
There is no conclusive evidence of any connection between the boro and the komosō in
the source material quoted in the secondary literature on the shakuhachi. As I conclude in
Chapter 5 and Chapter 6, the boro and the komosō were highly different in the way they
appear around the turn of the sixteenth century, the only time frame when we can establish
their simultaneous existence. I argue that the connection between these different types of
monks cannot be established from available sources, and that the lexical definitions of boro,
boro-boro, uma-hijiri, and komosō are weak and too simplified.
212
Chapter 7 – (Re-)Constructing Tradition: Discussion and Conclusions
the music from old times is the same as the music played at his time. He does, however,
mention that, “there are people who play [it] to repel an enemy,”846 which could be an
implied allusion to the boro-boro, or a foresight of the “Keichō okite-gaki” (cf. Section 4.2).
In another article, “Yoin shakuhachi-ki” (A Trailing Note to the Chronicle of the
Shakuhachi), written in 1625, again there are no remarks about komosō or boro-boro, but
Razan states that: “In recent years, there has been a person called Ōmori Sōkū, who plays
the shakuhachi well.”847 Ōmori Sōkū is probably Ō mori Sōkun, a well-known player of
hitoyogiri shakuhachi, who was contemporary with Razan.848 Nakamura Sōsan, the author
of the 1664 Shichiku shoshin-shū (cf. Section 3.2.3), refers to Ōmori Sōkun as his teacher of
hitoyogiri shakuhachi.
These two articles by Hayashi Razan, short as they may be, are more thorough studies of
the history of the shakuhachi, referring back to Lu Cai and his revival of the shakuhachi
instrument in the Tang dynasty China (cf. Chapter 3). As the Confucian scholar he was,
Razan devotes plenty of space in his articles to the connection with ancient China. I argue
that Razan’s commentary to Episode 115 of the Tsurezure-gusa was first of all a
commentary on the boro-boro, whom he evaluates highly, but he does not give any
references that furnish conclusive historical evidence of any connection between the
boro-boro and the komosō. In his more comprehensive articles on the shakuhachi, the
connection was apparently not substantiated. The “Kaidō honsoku” was written in 1628, but
Razan’s commentary Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi had probably already had a strong impact on
the contemporary society, and on the early komusō.849 This aspect does, of course, relate to
the Poietic Level for the komusō who created their origin in the early seventeenth century,
but it is also an important factor on the Esthesic Level in the re-creation of the tradition. The
early connections between the three, as I see it widely different agents, have not been fully
analyzed in contemporary studies, and this has given rise to an interpretation that is based
on a notion of similarity, whether it be in character, activities, or just as a matter of fact.
An an example of this ‘assumption of similarity’ can be seen in Ueno’s reference to the
tradition invented by the komusō in “Chapter 5 Fuke Shakuhachi” of his book. In the first
section, “Fuke to Kakushin,” he discusses the lack of religious content in the writings
relating to the Fuke sect, e.g., Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai, the absence of historical references
to substantiate that Kakushin (or Gakushin, i.e., Hottō Kokushi) brought the shakuhachi to
Japan, and so on. He ends this first section with the following words: “[R]egarding the
history of the fuke shakuhachi played by the komusō, besides what the komusō themselves
say, and their transmission, I assume that we must re-examine it based on reliable historical
records.”850 This is in line with the findings by Kurihara and Nakatsuka, and offers nothing
new. It is, however, interesting to read the beginning of the second section, “The
Appearance of Komosō,” which follows directly after the above quote. There Ueno says
that: “The monks who had Fuke as their revered progenitor, and played shakuhachi at
846
Hayashi Razan, “Shakuhachi-ki” (1623), in Hayashi Razan bunshū, 1930, 217. (有吹而却敵者).
847
Hayashi Razan, “Yoin hakuhachi-ki” (1625), in Hayashi Razan bunshū 1930, 218. (頃年有大森宗空者善吹尺八).
848
大森宗勲, 1570–1625.
849
As mentioned in Section 4.5.3, it is highly unlikely that Razan’s commentary was not circulated during the 1620s,
even though it was not published until the middle of the seventeenth century.
850
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 182. (… 虚無僧の吹いた普化尺八の歴史については、こうした虚無僧たちの側
の伝承と言い分とは別に、改めて確かな史料に基づいてこれを尋ねなおさねばならないだろう。).
213
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
people’s doors, were in old times not called ‘komusō,’ but as in Yōshūfu-shi they were
called ‘komosō’,”851 thereby establishing the development from Fuke to komosō and further
to komusō, a line that he intended to examine in a more critical way. On the following pages,
he relates to the first poem by the komosō in Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase, referring to
the samādhi of the komosō as “concentrating on freeing themselves from worldly thoughts.”
From there he quotes Hayashi Razan’s comment on Episode 115 in Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi,
taking Hayashi’s comment at face value, that the komosō were following the line of the
boro-boro, and then Ueno continues to expound on the boro-boro.852 These pages explicate
the shakuhachi history as an unbroken tradition. In the Esthesic Dimension, the shakuhachi
seems to be an entity moving between different agents in history, who appear to be carriers
of a unified and unique shakuhachi tradition. The point I want to make is that even if Ueno
talks about a re-examination based on reliable historical sources, he is not undertaking a
critical study of the older history, but rather, by implying similarity between the boro-boro
and komosō he puts emphasis on an unbroken line of development. Thereby, intentional or
not, he helps in re-creating a tradition that goes back to and beyond the komusō of the Edo
period.
A similar tendency is seen in some English language studies. For example, Lee in his
PhD thesis connects the komosō with the komusō in the following words:
The term 'komusô' (虚無僧, priest of nothingness) seems to have evolved quite naturally
from the earlier, more earthy term 'komosô' (薦僧, straw mat priest) and is even closer in
meaning to the characters used in the 16th century poem Sanjûniban shokunin uta awase
for the word 'komosô': 虚妄僧 (priest of emptiness and illusion). In this reference, the
word komosô was written with the characters ko 虚 (emptiness) and mo 妄 (illusion),
conveying a much greater sense of other-worldliness and spirituality than the original
word komo 薦 (straw mat). In the book Keichôkenbunshû (慶長見聞集, Collection of
information of the Keichô era, completed in 1614) the word komusô is written with the
characters 古 無 僧 (literally 'old nothingness priest') (Ueno 1984:206). Ban Kôkei
(1733-1806) wrote, "People who play the shakuhachi and beg for rice are called komusô
(虚無僧, priest of nothing) nowadays, but in the collection of poetry Kanjinshô Uta Awase
( 勧進聖歌合 ) the characters komosô ( 薦僧 , straw mat priest) are used" (Kamisangô
1974:11). These sources indicate that in the early 17th century, the komosô (薦僧, straw
mat priest) and komusô (虚無僧, priest of nothingness) were one and the same group of
people.853
The conclusion from the sources cited in the above quote is not supported in my analysis.
Again, on the Esthesic Level, it clearly binds the two very different types of monks together.
A connection to an older, indigenous tradition is thereby established; a connection that I
argue is construed from a vague notion of similarity, and ‘as a matter of fact.’
851
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 183. (普化を祖と仰ぎ尺八を吹いて門付けをする僧たちは、古くは「虚無僧」
ではなく、『雍州府志』にあるように「薦僧」と呼ばれていた。).
852
Ibid., 183ff.
853
Lee, Yearning for the Bell …, 1993, 105. The Kanjinshō Uta Awase that is referred to in Lee’s quotation of
Kamisangō is the same as Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase. The characters 勧進聖 should more likely be read
kanjin-hijiri rather than kanjinshō as in Lee’s quote, and the judge (hanja) in the Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase is
a half monk half layman, a hijiri, soliciting for funds, a kanjin, thus Kanjin-hijiri Uta-awase. Regarding Ueno, Lee
gives the publication year as 1984. The first publication is from 1983, but it was reissued four times between 1983
and 1988, when the original publisher Kabushiki-gaisha Kyōwa Shuppansha (renamed to Shimada Ongaku Shuppan
Kabushiki-gaisha in October 1983), was dissolved.
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Chapter 7 – (Re-)Constructing Tradition: Discussion and Conclusions
Ueno (1984:206) points out that Hayashi's description of the komosô (薦僧, straw mat
priest) is identical to that in a mid-16th century collection of poetry, Sanjûniban shokunin
uta awase (三十二番職人歌合 ca. 1539), except that in the later reference, they were
carrying swords, while in the earlier reference they were not. The implication of Ueno's
observation is that the ranks of the later komosô (薦僧, straw mat priest) of the early Edo
period had evolved from the low class beggar monks of the previous centuries to persons
still of a rough look, but presumably from the higher class of the bushi or samurai, since
they alone had the right to carry swords.854
The “later reference” is the boro-boro that appears in Tsurezure-gusa, and the “earlier
reference” is the komosō in the Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase. The implication to which
Lee refers assumes that the komusō had evolved from beggar-monks. Firstly, the komosō of
the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries were not forbidden to carry a weapon. In the
Muromachi period it was a common thing to carry a blade of some kind, and we see that the
boro-boro in Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase, as well as other entertainers or artisans
of low rank, did in fact carry weapons. It was not until the ‘sword-hunt’ (katana-gari)
proclaimed by Toyotomi Hideyoshi in 1587 that the right to carry weapon became a
privilege of the warrior class.855 The notion of a ‘development’ from low-ranking komosō to
a komusō of samurai status in the early Edo period is also debatable. In 1585 and 1586
Hideyoshi issued decrees in order to establish rules for a strict division of classes.856 At least
from the late sixteenth century on, it would have been very difficult to change social status
in such a way that is suggested by Lee. Even if this change appeared before the mid 1580s,
the number of komosō transforming into komusō must have been in such figures that it
would not have passed unnoticed. An individual here and there may have slipped by, but I
find it hard to imagine that a whole sect with quite a number of temples was populated by
outcasts who had turned into samurai. This is regardless of the fact that the monks were not
officially acknowledged until 1677, and that the temples were probably more like lodges for
the wandering monks.
The historian Hosaka Hirooki argues that the komosō changed from having been
knowledgeable about entertainment, carrying a bowl for begging and a straw mat for
sleeping, to become begging entertainers, with shakuhachi-playing as their speciality, in the
fifteenth to the sixteenth centuries.857 There are no historical records of komosō before the
854
Ibid., 104.
855
Sansom, Japan: A Short Cultural History (1931), 1985, 433.
856
Ibid., 432–433.
857
Hosaka, “Jūnana seiki ni okeru komusō no seisei,” 1994, 208.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
fifteenth century, which makes Hosaka’s statement at least problematic. What did they do
before the fifteenth century? Hosaka says that the komosō can be regarded as outcasts in the
Medieval Period, excluded from a society with permanent, settled residents. The society
was structured around a feudal lord, its residents constituting the population of the fief, and
other groups of people – like the komosō – were regarded as outsiders and strangers. Hosaka
argues that the important connection these outcasts made was to relate themselves to the
sayings and conduct by Fuke, and to Ikkyū Sōjun who introduced Fuke to the komosō. Then,
in the beginning of the seventeenth century, the komusō appeared, as monks devoted to
Fuke. For Hosaka, the difference between the two is “the shift over from a phase where
‘begging’ activities were an attribute of ‘Fuke Zenji,’ to a phase where it became the real
nature [of the komusō].”858 As shown in Chapter 4, the real nature of the komusō was,
however, rather that of a samurai. The character of the komosō as described in the scarce
primary material does not support an assumption that the komosō ‘took up’ Chinese learning.
It seems highly unlikely that they would have been able even to read the poems by Ikkyū.
My analysis indicates that the komusō samurai-monks appropriated the playing of the
shakuhachi that the komosō beggar-monks had made their means of livelihood, and that
neither of these groups were seemingly interested in the Zen thoughts of Fuke or Ikkyū. A
counter-argument would be that the Kuromoto-bon character dictionary does mention
komosō written both as ‘straw mat monks’ and ‘Fuke monks’ (cf. Section 6.1.3.3), but I
argue that the possible referents of these straw mat ‘Fuke monks’ can only be understood as
a very limited number of persons. The reasons for this, I argue, are: (1) There is only one
single reference from the late fifteenth or the early sixteenth century (the Kuromoto-bon).
(2) The next appearance in a character dictionary is from the late Muromachi period, i.e.,
near in time to the document of 1598, in which the compound word komu (虚無) appears for
the first time in connection to Fuke. (3) If there had been a great number of monks from
other denominations turning into komosō, or komosō beggar-monks turning into samurai,
this would have been noticed in society. (4) My analyses of other primary sources, e.g.,
Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase and the folding screen paintings of the late sixteenth
century, do not support an interpretation of the komosō as perceived in the contemporary
society as anything more than – probably illiterate – beggars at the bottom of society.
The komusō were samurai, and part of the upper strata of society, thus most likely
literate, whereas the komosō seem to have been similar to outcasts, and most likely not close
to being able to read or write.859 Hosaka’s conclusions imply an indigenious tradition
connecting the komusō with the komosō, whose origin he places to a time before the
fifteenth century. It should also be noted that while Fuke quite often is referred to as a Zenji
(Zen Master) in the secondary literature, he never held this title. This is, again, an indication
of how the Poietic Processes behind the writings of the history of the shakuhachi result in an
authorization of the past: even if the shakuhachi tradition is regarded as a legend, the
possible connection – directly or indirectly through Ikkyū – to Fuke as an officially
acknowledged Zen Master gives the shakuhachi a more authoritative position in history.
858
Ibid. Apart from when Fuke asks for a monastic robe (cf. Section 4.5.1), I have not found any instances where
Fuke is begging, or that it is an explicit attribute.
859
In the Edo period society they would have been hinin (‘non-humans,’ or ‘outcasts’), but this social classification
did not exist during the Muromachi period.
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Chapter 7 – (Re-)Constructing Tradition: Discussion and Conclusions
As discussed above, and in Chapter 4, I argue that Hayashi Razan was instrumental in
connecting the boro-boro and the komosō, and by extension the komusō. Hosaka Hirooki
reaches the following conclusion regarding the author of the “Kaidō honsoku” (cf. Section
4.1), the comment by Hayashi Razan in Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi (cf. Section 4.5.3), and the
possible incentives they may have had:
The author of this text [“Kaidō honsoku”] calls himself “boro” [暮露], implying that the
name was connected to boro-boro [ぼろぼろ], in order to make the fact that the komusō of
the time were Buddhists a persuasive one, and I would assume that the records of Razan
… were also based on a remark related to the same intention.860
Regardless of the fact that the boro-boro and komosō are not mentioned in the short
historical studies Razan wrote in 1623 and 1625, his Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi was published
in 1648 and printed in 1667, without any revisions of his commentary to Episode 115 in
Tsurezure-gusa.
I regard the historical writings in the twentieth century as partly an attempt – whether
intentional or not – to establish an older indigenous history, after Nakatsuka’s study
questioned and problematized the myth of a unified and unbroken shakuhachi tradition from
the Tang dynasty Zen monk Fuke. Kamisangō creates a connection between the Edo period
shakuhachi-playing ruffians and the boro and komosō by alluding to their fierceness.
Relating to the stories about how the root-end shakuhachi became more common (cf.
Section 3.2), he writes that it is quite plausible that the root-end shakuhachi was introduced
by the so-called kyōkyaku, originally chivalrous people who became known ruffians.
According to Tsurezure-gusa, is seems that the boro made conflict and strife a matter of
their concern, accepted life and death easily, and they were monks who were
self-indulgent and broke the laws of a monk, and therefore there might have been some
kind of connection between the komosō and the kyōkyaku.861
Blasdel translates this as: “According to the Tsurezure Gusa … the boro komosō monks
were debauched, merciless fighters; not caring whether they lived or died. Perhaps the Edo
period rogues so given over to fighting with their instruments took hints from the earlier
komosō who had similar natures.” 862 Blasdel may stress the seeming similarity, but
Kamisangō makes the same connection, put slightly less bluntly. It would not, however,
have been the common pastime of the rogues to fight with their shakuhachi. There are only
a few references to these activities in the Edo period writings, most notably to Karigane
Bunshichi, a shakuhachi-playing rogue, who was executed in 1703. 863 In the Poietic
Dimension this indicates an inclination towards making a possible similarity of appearance
a common trait; the slightest detail in common is taken as an evidence of sameness.
860
Hosaka, “Jūnana seiki ni okeru komusō no seisei,” 1994, 195. (この文書の作者は、当該期の虚無僧が仏教者であること
を説得的なものにするために、「暮露」を名乗り、ぼろぼろに連なる者であることを含意したのであり、羅山や季吟の記録もこの
作為につながる言説をふまえていたと推定されるのである。).
861
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 85. (… 『徒然草』によれば、暮露は闘争を事とし、生死
をかえりみない、放逸無慙の徒であったようだから、薦僧と侠客の間には何らかの関連があったかもしれない。).
862
Kamisangō translated in Blasdel, The Shakuhachi… (1988), 2008, 92.
863
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 85. Cf. Section 3.2 fuke shakuhachi.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
The connection between boro and komosō is clearly stated and emphasized by
Kamisangō and in the English adaptation and translation by Blasdel, based on an
assumption that the komosō were rogues with the same or a similar character as the boro. In
the older texts that I have consulted I have not been able to obtain substantiating proof of
this, even if there is circumstantial evidence that some boro may have been rogues. This
may be a possible interpretation of Tsurezure-gusa, although I would argue against this. In
my view, however, it is definitely not a viable interpretation of the boro that appears in the
Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase. A rogue is a dishonest and worthless person, maybe
implying a character inclined towards indiscriminate fighting, but Razan does not evaluate
the boro-boro in Tsurezure-gusa as merciless rogues: he views them as monks of a noble
character who assume the duty of revenge.864
The impact that the imagery of the boro and the komosō has had is quite evident from the
usage of the paintings of the boro and the komosō. In the 1975 republication of Kurihara
Kōta’s book Shakuhachi shikō there is a painting of Shōtoku Taishi (carrying a sword but
no shakuhachi), and on the inside of the front and back covers there are images of the court
musician playing shakuhachi in Shinzen nyūdō kogaku-zu (cf. Section 3.3.1, and Plate 12),
an Edo-period komusō wearing a tengai basket-type of headgear and playing the shakuhachi,
a person with a sword playing what appears to be a hitoyogiri shakuhachi, and, finally, the
boro that appears in the Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase.
Another more recent use of these images is from a New Year’s newsletter of the
Association of Kinko-ryū Shakuhachi, issued January 1, 2010. In this newsletter, the
komosō in Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase is depicted. There is no direct reference to the
image, but the greeting by Aoki Reibo II, the chairman of the Association of Kinko-ryū
Shakuhachi, ends with a message to all the members of the association: “My hope is that
you will contribute to a further activation of this precious traditional music.”865 Whether the
connection between the image and the ‘precious traditional music’ is a conscious intention
or not is of course difficult to say. The greeting also refers to the sound of bamboo with the
following words: “The sound of bamboo, as a music culture that melts together with nature
delicately crossing over humble simplicity, has been transmitted thanks to the essential
sensitivity of the Japanese people.”866 This essentialistic view of shakuhachi and its music
seems to be an integral part of the Poietic Processes within the secondary sources I have
studied. I do not argue against the general aim of the text – to promote the shakuhachi music.
Nevertheless, the reference to the shakuhachi as a ‘tradition,’ connected with an image that
goes beyond the music culture of the Edo period, implies an older, unbroken line of
development. It suggests both the existence of a tradition with its origin in pre-Edo Japan,
and a quest for a genuinely Japanese essence, by which this music tradition has been able to
transcend time.
In the next section I develop this aspect of the Poietic Dimension in twentieth-century
studies of the shakuhachi. I examine at the shakuhachi in its description as an instrument
864
Shira-boji is seeking revenge on the person who killed his master, a boro called Irooshi-bō, who lightly, and
without hesitation, accepts the request of a duel. Yoshida Kenkō, Tsurezure-gusa (ca. 1340), 115, 1965, 183.
865
Aoki Reibo II, Chairman’s New Year’s greeting in “Kinko-ryū kyōkai-dayori” issued January 1, 2011. (… 貴重な
伝統音楽の一層の活性化に寄与していただきたいと願っております。).
866
Ibid. (…竹韻は、まさに自然空間にとけこんで機微に渡るわび・さびの音楽文化として、日本人の本質的な情感により伝承され
てまいりました。).
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Chapter 7 – (Re-)Constructing Tradition: Discussion and Conclusions
related to Zen Buddhism, more exactly to the Zen thoughts of Ikkyū, and as an instrument
with origins in the Asuka period Japan.
shakuhachi wa, hito-yo bakari to, omoishi ni, iku-yo ka oi no, tomo to nari nuru
I thought the shakuhachi would be a friend for just one night,
But now it has stayed with me for many nights, until old age.
867
Didactic poems in the Japanese style waka, often with a Buddhist content. (道歌).
868
Quoted in Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 66; Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no
ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 77; Tsukitani, “Shakuhachi: Bungakuteki imēji no Shinpuku,” 1989, 114. Tsukitani has:
“shakuhachi wa, hito-yo to koso, …” and is using the character for one node (hito-yo, 節) here, but the character for
one night at the end (iku-yo, 幾夜). The number of morae does not, however, fit with the requirements of a tanka:
there should be seven in the second stanza, but hi-to-yo-to-ko-so only make six morae. There seems to be slightly
different versions available, and a more thorough research of the original may be required in the future.
219
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Nakatsuka includes the Chinese characters for the phonetic-equivalet ‘one night’ (一夜)
and ‘one node’ (一節) in his interpretation, whereas Kamisangō connects this poem with the
more obvious allusion to a hitoyogiri shakuhachi in a poem from a much later date. In the
Ryūtatsu kouta,869 a collection of kouta, or short songs, that was very popular around the
turn of the seventeenth century we find this poem:
尺八の、ひとよぎりこそ、音もよけれ、君とひとよは、寝も足らぬ 870
Here, there is an obvious play on word. The hito-yo-giri in the second stanza may refer
both to the hitoyogiri shakuhachi, but also to a one-night love affair, hitoyo kiri, with the
near phonetic-equivalent hitoyo-giri creating this allusion: hitoyo means one night, and kiri,
or giri, means literally a ‘cut,’ but it can also mean something like ‘and that’s it.’ The word
ne in the next stanza denotes the ‘sound’ of the hitoyogiri shakuhachi, but it also alludes to
ne in the last stanza, which denotes ‘sleep.’ The sound is evaluated as ‘good’ (yokere). The
second and third stanzas, hitoyo-giri koso and ne mo yokere, thus create the double-meaning
of ‘the sound of the hitoyogiri shakuhachi is good,’ and ‘a one-night affair gives a pleasant
sleep.’ The hitoyo in the fourth stanza means ‘one night,’ together with the beloved (kimi to),
and the ne in the final stanza means ‘sleep,’ which is not enough (taranu).
Referring to both of the above poems, the Ryūtatsu kouta and the poem by Ikkyū,
Kamisangō concludes that even if the term hitoyogiri shakuhachi did not become common
until the seventeenth century, these songs/poems show that the word hitoyogiri, in a broad
definition, had been used since old times.871
I have not found any other historical records from Ikkyū’s time in which the word
‘hitoyogiri shakuhachi’ is used, and the interpretation seems a little far-fetched unless the
word hito-yo has any other meaning, e.g., referring to another type of shakuhachi. The
presumed allusion to a hitoyogiri shakuhachi does not seem to have any poetic or aesthetic
effect, and no religious implications. In his poems in literary Chinese (kanshi), discussed in
Section 4.5.1, Ikkyū refers to shakuhachi as well as different types of flutes, but I have not
found any poem where he mentions hitoyogiri. I would argue that the above poem by Ikkyū
does not include a reference to the hitoyogiri shakuhachi, and it does not have any
implications of a one-night love affair. Rather, the word hitoyo in Ikkyū’s poem refers to ‘a
short time,’ and that the tomo (friend) in his poem above has the same referent as in another
often quoted poem by Ikkyū, to which I return below.
In the Ryūtatsu kouta the double-meaning ‘night’ and ‘node,’ with its erotic allusions, is
obvious, but this collection of songs is of a considerably later date: it gained popularity in
the early Edo period, when the hitoyogiri shakuhachi was a popular and commonly known
869
Written by a Nichiren Buddhist monk by the name Takasabu Ryūtatsu (高三隆達, 1527–1611). The collection
Ryūtatsu kouta gained vast popularity in the Bunroku and Keichō eras, 1592–1615, especially in the area around
Kyoto and Osaka (kamigata). Sanseidō Daijirin, ryūtatsukouta, p. 2542. (隆達小歌).
870
Quoted in Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 78.
871
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 78. (【一休の歌と隆達小歌を引用して、そこに】 … はっ
きり出てくるから、広義では古くから用いられたらしい。).
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Chapter 7 – (Re-)Constructing Tradition: Discussion and Conclusions
instrument. Even though Ikkyū had bohemian ways, indulging in drinking and meeting
women, his religious agenda never seems to have left his writing, whether it was the heavier
Chinese poetry or the more colloquial poems in Japanese.
In another poem in Japanese, often quoted in secondary literature, Ikkyū lets the word
tomo, ‘friend,’ denote the only thing that equals him. In the first poem above, the ‘friend’ is
the shakuhachi, and in the poem below it is the sound of the shakuhachi (shakuhachi no
koe).
872
なか々々に、われに如かざる、人よりも、只尺八の、声ぞ友なる
naka-naka ni, ware ni shikazaru, hito yori mo, tada shakuhachi no, koe zo tomo naru
Rather than people who are not my equal,
Only the voice of the shakuhachi will be my friend!
Here the reference to the shakuhachi is clear, and again we find that Ikkyū had a keen ear
for this instrument. Ikkyū is probably also referring to a saying of Confucius in Chapter 1,
Xue Er, of the Analects:
The Master said, “If the scholar be not grave, he will not call forth any veneration, and
his learning will not be solid. Hold faithfulness and sincerity as first principles. Have no
friends not equal to yourself. When you have faults, do not fear to abandon them.” 873
The crucial part, “have no friends not equal to yourself,” is rendered in Japanese as onore
ni shikazaru mono o tomo to suru nakare.874 Ikkyū takes this advice. The first stanza of
Ikkyū’s poem above, naka-naka ni, can be translated either as ‘rather,’ or ‘half-measured,’
‘incomplete,’ ‘halfway.’ The second stanza means ‘not equal to me,’ and the third ‘even
compared to (such a) person.’ Thus, rather than trying to find someone who will not be my
equal anyway, it is just (tada) the voice of the shakuhachi (shakuhachi no koe) that will be
my friend (tomo naru). The particle zo after koe is a strong affirmative. Here, Ikkyū puts the
shakuhachi at the level of a master: there exist no (living) person that can equal him, and
only the shakuhachi will stay his friend. My analyses of Ikkyū’s Chinese poems indicate
that Ikkyū may have regarded the shakuhachi as a means of reaching enlightenment, or that
sound contained elements of a true Zen doctrine (cf. Section 4.5.1).
Ikkyū was not the typical Zen Buddhist monk. He appears to have been a bohemian, with
a liking for the Chinese Zen monk Fuke (cf. Section 4.5.1). The shabby image of Ikkyū,
paired with the witty wildness of Fuke, as he is portrayed in the Rinzai-roku, may well have
been a formative image for the early Edo-period komusō – as I discuss in Section 4.5.1
above – even though Ikkyū is not explicitly mentioned in any of their writings. Most of the
secondary literature on the shakuhachi refers to a person who was a supposed comrade of
Ikkyū, playing shakuhachi and appearing to be “a Japanese style Fuke.”875 His name was
872
Quoted in Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 66.
873
The Analects (論語, C. Lun Yu; J. Rongo), Chapter 1, Section 8. Translation at http://ctext.org/analects/, accessed
March 15, 2011. (學而8: 子曰:“君子不重則不威,學則不固。主忠信,無友不如己者,過則勿憚改。”). Emphasis added.
874
KOKUGO/OR. (己に如かざる者を友とするなかれ).
875
A quote from Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 262 of Miyako meisho-zue (都名所図絵),
published in 1780. (和朝の普化と称す).
221
Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Rōan, and he is mentioned, probably for the first time, in Yōshūfu-shi of 1686,876 which is
about two hundred years after Ikkyū passed away. In Yōshūfu-shi Rōan is described as a
foreign monk of unknown origin, playing the shakuhachi, and appearing as a follower of
Fuke. 877 Another record is from Shichiku kokin-shū, written in 1805, saying that the
hitoyogiri genealogy was transmitted from Rōan, Sōsa, and Takase Bizen no Kami, but that
there is no basis for this assumption.878 Kamisangō summarizes two legends about assumed
epigones of Ikkyū in the following words:
One holds that Ikkyū, together with a person called Ichirosō, had thrown away the
worldly life, living in a hut in Uji. The two of them cut their own bamboo and made
shakuhachi, and played all the time. The other says that a foreign monk, Rōan, lived in a
hut called Kyūean in Uji, and that he was well acquainted with Ikkyū of Murasakino [the
area in Kyoto where the Daitoku-ji temple is located], and that he liked to play
shakuhachi. He called himself Fūketsudō-sha [The Follower of the Way of Wind and
Holes], and this was the beginning of the komusō. Both legends seem to be variations of
one and the same theme. It is possible that they were the same person, but we know
absolutely nothing about what kind of persons they were.879
The reference to Ichirosō is older than the reference to Rōan mentioned above. In his
“Chronicle of Shakuhachi” (1623), Hayashi Razan mentions that Ikkyū – referred to with
his alias Kyōun-shi – as the owner of the hermitage at Uji, had together with Ichirosō
averted this world, and that they played the shakuhachi together. Even though Razan puts it
in “modern times,” his remark is at least one hundred and fifty years after the assumed
event.880 As mentioned above, Razan does not incorporate boro, komosō, or komusō in any
way in his short articles on the history of the shakuhachi, written in 1623 and 1625 (cf.
Section 7.1.2).
876
Yōshūfu-shi (雍州府志) is a local text consisting of 10 volumes published in 1686, mainly concerned about the
local area, the Yamashiro-kuni, an old name for the area south of present day Kyoto. Authored by Kurokawa Dōyū
(黒川道祐, d. 1691).
877
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 262; Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 152.
Both indicate that Yōshūfu-shi is the oldest reference.
878
Ueno, Shakuhachi no rekishi (1983), 2002, 151.
879
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 73. (一つは、一休は一路叟という者とともに、俗世間を
捨てて宇治の庵に住み、二人は、自ら竹を切って尺八を作り、常に吹いた、というものであり、他の一つは、朗庵(朗菴、蘆安と
もいう)という異僧が宇治の吸江庵にあり、紫野の一休和尚と親交があり、尺八を好んで吹き、自ら風穴道者と称したが、これが
虚無僧の初まりである、というものである。両説は同じ所伝の変化したもので、一路叟と朗庵は同一人物かとも推測されるが、ど
ういう人物か、皆目わからない。).
880
Hayashi Razan, “Shakuhachi-ki” (1623), in Hayashi Razan bunshū, 1930, 218. (吾国近代有宇治庵主狂雲子一路叟者
並避世之徒也 吹尺八).
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Chapter 7 – (Re-)Constructing Tradition: Discussion and Conclusions
early sixteenth century who were referred to as Fuke monks. This could support the legends
about Rōan and Ichirosō, but it does not constitute conclusive evidence for their existence,
nor does it supply any concrete material for evaluation or interpretation. The remark appears
around the time of the Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase (1494), which contains a much
broader range of material for an analysis of the character of the komosō. There seems to
have been one, or some, komosō, influenced by Ikkyū’s notions of shakuhachi and Fuke, but
to my knowledge, there is no historical material that provides a notion about the substance
of their thoughts. The only secondary writer who even mentions the Kuromoto-bon is Ueno,
but he only refers to it in one single sentence (p. 191) without any further explanation.
Nakatsuka states that we know nothing about the import of the thoughts of Fuke. He
assumes that Ikkyū was influenced by Rōan in this respect, presumably because Rōan is
mentioned as a foreign monk, and that it was through the exchange with this legendary
character that Ikkyū developed a deeper understanding of the Zen of Fuke.881 On the other
hand, Fuke is known from the Rinzai-roku, and it would seem plausible that Ikkyū read
about Fuke in this work. Nonetheless, Ikkyū’s bohemian appearance, his liking for music in
general – there are several poems in Kyōun-shū that relate to other instruments and music –
and his appreciation of Fuke, have inspired notions that he was at least like a komosō, a
wandering monk playing the shakuhachi. This is a mere fraction of Ikkyū’s world, but
interpretations of him as a shakuhachi-playing monk create an image of a monk with a deep
understanding of Zen – especially the Zen of Fuke – paired with shakuhachi. Based on
Ikkyū’s activities and his playing of the shakuhachi, Takeda argues that “even if we can not
say that he became a komosō, it is evident that he had the ability to act as something similar
to them.” 882 This implies nothing more than a loose similarity, and, with reference to my
analysis of the komosō in Chapter 6, I do not find any support for this interpretation. It does,
however, create the necessary background for the creation of a tradition. Timewise, Ikkyū
and the scroll painting of a komosō more or less coincide, but the implications of a
continuum obfuscate critical examination. The implications are that there is purportedly a
line of development of Zen-related content in the shakuhachi music that was played by
Ikkyū and others. The images of those practitioners is supposed to be similar to that of the
medieval boro-boro, who later turned into komosō and began to play the shakuhachi, as
Ikkyū supposedly did, and then the komosō transformed into the komusō. This assumed line
of a conceptualized ‘shakuhachi’ that passes through various points in history constitutes a
creation of a tradition that I argue is not supported by extant historical sources. With Ikkyū
the shakuhachi becomes a deeply Zen-inspired tradition of indigenous origin, which it
lacked in its connections to the komusō.
881
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 264–265.
882
Takeda, Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi, 1997, 209, 211. (彼は薦僧になったとはいえないにしても、それらしい
職能になっていたことは明らかである。).
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in Chapter 4, and his Japanese poetry above, quite evident. The foundation for using Ikkyū
as the carrier of a defunct Fuke tradition, seems to be a wish for a re-spiritualization of the
shakuhachi. After the Meiji restoration in 1868, and the abolition of the Fuke sect in 1871,
the secular music took precedence over the Zen-related aspects of the shakuhachi.
Especially after the end of World War II, the shakuhachi lost more and more ground. A
further secularization of the music culture, and the strong emphasis on imported Western
music, put the shakuhachi in an even more crucial situation than at the time of the abolition
of the Fuke sect.883
The shakuhachi became a part of the creation of a national identity in the Meiji period, as
an old musical instrument, with supposed connections all the way back to Shōtoku Taishi
(cf. Section 7.2.2 below). The Japanese musicologist Kikkawa Eishi argues that the special
character of Japanese music is that it does not change, as Western music does. Greek music
passed on the ‘relay stick’ to Roman music, Roman music handed the stick over to medieval
music, which in turn handed it over to pre-modern music. Kikkawa terms this
“revolutionary development” or “development that negates the preceding culture.” In
comparison, Japanese music development does not negate preceding music forms, but
different kinds of music coexist in such a way that the music “not only transmits the oldest
forms even now, but it is performed and appreciated as elements of the present day.”884
This describes a notion of Japanese music as fixed in its forms, preserved in and only in
Japan, with fictive lines of transmission going back to before the Ancient Period. During the
Meiji period, the shakuhachi became part of the secular context, even if there re-appeared
practitioners of shakuhachi as a religious implement around the middle of the Meiji period.
As one sample of an ancient, indigenous tradition – in Kikkawa’s sense of a
‘non-revolutionized music tradition’ – the Buddhologist Max Deeg holds that the perception
of shakuhachi contributed to the creation of a national identity during the Meiji period.
Deeg comments further on the development of the shakuhachi after WWII in the following
words:
Such a musical tradition could eventually enter into a new, second period of
spiritualisation in the postwar period of Zen-enthusiasm in the West. Paradoxically, in
Japan this assumed spirituality was lost in the more and more secularised and formalised
world of Japanese shakuhachi practice of the main schools. It seems, however, latterly, to
be more and more the case that shakuhachi practice is constructed in terms of a
consciousness of it, “re”transferred as this has been from the West, as a spiritual
Zen-instrument.885
To establish a Zen doctrine relating to both Fuke and the shakuhachi in the writings of
Ikkyū, creates a bridge over the activities of the Edo period komusō, from the present time
and at least back to the fifteenth century, thereby connecting to a suitable older origin.
Furthermore, whatever the komusō might have done wrong, no matter how far they went
astray from the right path, through a connection from Fuke – via Ikkyū – to shakuhachi, and
883
As an implement of the komusō the shakuhachi was doomed to be abolished with the sect, but the Meiji
government decided to accept the shakuhachi as a musical instrument (cf. Section 8.1).
884
Kikkawa, Nihon ongaku no seikaku, 1980, 19–20. (最も古い形を今もなお伝えているばかりでなく、現在のものとして演
奏され、鑑賞されている).
885
Deeg, “Komusō and ‘Shakuhachi-Zen’,” 2007, 35. Emphasis in the original.
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Chapter 7 – (Re-)Constructing Tradition: Discussion and Conclusions
in the extension to the Edo period komusō, a line of a spiritual movement is maintained.
This line of spirituality can be seen as a Poietic Process in the notion of sui-zen,886 often
translated as “blowing Zen.”887 This notion has gained perhaps a greater popularity in the
West than in Japan, in line with the ‘retransfer’ to which Deeg refers, or a reimport.888
Kamisangō’s text from 1974, reprinted in 1995, carries the original Japanese title
“Shakuhachi-gaku ryakushi – suizen no rikai no tame ni,” which means “An Abbreviated
History of the Shakuhachi Music – For the Understanding of suizen.” The origin of the
word sui-zen is to be found in a four-character expression displayed at the temple Myōan-ji
in Kyoto, one of the main komusō temples during the Edo period.889 The four-character
expression reads suizen ichinyo, alluding to another well-known expression, kenzen ichinyo.
The latter expression means that by practicing Zen it is possible to reach a state of mind
where the handling of the sword (ken) is one expression of Zen, and not that the sword and
Zen are the same.890 This expression is similar to the Buddhist monk Takuan’s expression
kenzen itchi,891 which states that the ultimate state of the Way of the Sword, kendō, is the
same (itchi) as the Zen Buddhist ideal state of being free from worldly ideas and thoughts,
munen-musō.892 The difference between itchi, unity, and ichinyo, oneness, is a matter of
nuance rather than essence. Thus, suizen ichinyo should be interpreted as saying that by
practicing Zen, the act of playing the shakuhachi (sui, literally ‘blowing’) becomes one
expression of (a) Zen (mind). Accordingly, suizen is not a practice of Zen, but the playing of
the shakuhachi can be one expression of a Zen-like state of mind: it is not a matter of
‘blowing Zen,’ but rather of playing the shakuhachi and playing it well.
886
吹禅.
887
Kamisangō translated in Blasdel, The Shakuhachi… (1988), 2008, 93. In the original, Kamisangō does not use
the word suizen, but rather states that the komusō were engaged in shakuhachi suisō, shakuhachi playing, which was
their Buddhist practice.
888
One shakuhachi performer told me that his activities as a performer of what he holds to be religious content were
enhanced when he became known outside of Japan as a performer of hotchiku, the ‘Buddha bamboo’ (法竹).
889
Myōan-ji is still regarded as the main temple for those inclined towards komusō activities, Japanese and
non-Japanese alike, and it was from this temple that the Myōan Kyōkai was established. Myōan-ji is located within
the premises of Tōfuku-ji, and the komusō activities were re-established in gathering money to rebuild a part of
Tōfuku-ji that had burned down in the late nineteenth century.
890
吹禅一如/剣禅一如. Personal communication with the shakuhachi master Kurahashi Yōdō (倉橋容堂) in July 2009.
Kurahashi also confirmed his opinion in an e-mail to the author on January 25, 2011. (たいへん有名な「剣禅一如」とい
う言葉【は】 「剣を極めることは禅に通じる」という意味です。決して「剣イコール禅」ではありません。). In an e-mail on January
11, 2012, Kurahashi clarifies that his comment is his personal opinion, and not based on scholarly research.
891
Takuan (沢庵和尚), a Rinzai Zen Buddhist monk who lived 1573–1645. (剣禅一致).
892
KOKUGO, Vol. 7, kenzen itchi: p. 328. (剣禅一致).
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incorporated in the court music, gagaku, repertoire.893 The Somakusha is also depicted in a
twelfth century scroll painting, the Shinzei nyūdō kogaku-zu (Plate 26).894
To support the connection between the shakuhachi and Shōtoku Taishi, Kurihara quotes
the early sixteenth-century gagaku treaties Taigen-shō and Maikyoku kuden,895 both written
by Toyohara Sumiaki, 896 and Nakatsuka quotes “Taigen-shō and other [texts].” 897 In
Taigen-shō the reference to Shōtoku Taishi reads as
follows: Plate 26: Somakusha depicted in the
twelfth century Shinzei nyūdō
kogaku-zu.
A long time ago, it is said that Shōtoku Taishi used the
shakuhachi to play “Somakusha” at Ikomayama. Among the Used by courtesy of the Tokyo
University of the Arts.
treasures of Hōryū-ji there is one shakuhachi, and this is [the
one he played]. It is said to be from old times.
Further, the mountain god came out, dancing. Ōmine is said
to be Somakusha’s mountain, and it still exists.898
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Chapter 7 – (Re-)Constructing Tradition: Discussion and Conclusions
Tanabe’s supposition seems to refer to a remark in the Kyōkun-shō of 1233, where the
story is told in the following words:
Somakusha … About this dance, there is a legend saying that a long time ago, when En
no Gyōja descended from Ōmine playing the flute, the mountain god enjoyed the sound
and came forth dancing. He was discovered by the Gyōja and the mountain god bit his
tounge. The ridge where this happened was named the Somakusha mountain, and it is
said still to exist. Furthermore, when Shōtoku Taishi passed through Kame no se at
Kawachi, sitting on his horse, he played the shakuhachi. The mountain god liked the
sound and danced, and in recent times this was pictured in [wall paintings in] the Eden at
Hōryū-ji.903
Yet another occurence of the shakuhachi as related to Shōtoku Taishi is a record in the
thirteenth-century Hōryū-ji kokon mokuroku-shō (Recorded Annals of the Hōryū-ji Temple):
Shōtoku Taishi played the Chinese bamboo flute shakuhachi as he walked the honourable
way from Hōryū-ji to Tennō-ji, and at Shiisaka, the mountain god heard the revered flute
and came out dancing after him.904
If the accounts of Shōtoku Taishi playing the shakuhachi are viewed as viable, they
would have occured sometime between 593 at the earliest, the year that the temple Tennō-ji
was built, and at the latest 621, the year of the death of Shōtoku Taishi. If we believe the Lu
Cai theory (cf. Chapter 3) – which states that the Tang dynasty court musician Lu Cai
revived a type of flute, using a one shaku eight sun long flute as its standard pitch – it seems
however highly questionable whether Shōtoku Taishi actually did play what was referred to
as ‘shakuhachi’ at that time as discussed above. Lu Cai was active around 627–649, which
is after the death of Shōtoku Taishi. From the extant sources that I have consulted, we
cannot gain knowledge about whether Shōtoku Taishi played any instrument at all, but since
all the remarks about Shōtoku Taishi are from much later sources, the time gap may indicate
that the use of Shōtoku Taishi is of a more socio-political character: using historically
significant names is one way of creating a solid base for the tradition.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
association of Prince Shōtoku and the shakuhachi is an example of the frequent occurrence
of important historical figures having been given central roles in their origin myths, in
traditional Japanese musical genres and other traditional Japanese arts.”906 With reference to
Shōtoku Taishi a 1,400 years long ‘tradition’ is created.
More recent studies, e.g., that of Kamisangō, refer to the Hōryū-ji shakuhachi,
presumably used by Shōtoku Taishi, and the 1233 Kyōkun-shō, but Kamisangō concludes
that it is questionable whether the instrument owned by Hōryū-ji actually did belong to
Shōtoku Taishi, and that it is difficult to accept the legend which says that Shōtoku Taishi
played the piece “Somakusha.”907 With reference to a remark in the Zoku Kyōkun-shō of
1370, with similar content as the above quotes, Ueno notes that from this we understand that
it has been said from old times that the shakuhachi at Hōryū-ji was a favourite item for
Shōtoku Taishi. Ueno does not conclude that this is the case, but rather that it is
questionable whether the shakuhachi did in fact exist in Japan during Shōtoku Taishi’s era.
228
Chapter 7 – (Re-)Constructing Tradition: Discussion and Conclusions
914
小中村清矩, 1822–1895.
915
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 12; Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 39–40.
Konakamura also states that the hitoyogiri shakuhachi, used solely by Fuke monks until recently, was 1 shaku 8 sun.
(歌舞音楽略史, Iwanami Bunko 1888). (In kane-jaku Konakamura reports the length in kane-jaku to be 1 shaku 4 sun
5 bu, i.e., 43.906 cm).
916
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 12.
917
允恭天皇, r. 412–453. The nineteenth Emperor after Jinmu (神武), r. 660–585 BCE, in the mythical imperial
genealogy. NELSON, p. 1018.
918
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 7.
919
Ibid. (若しも此時代に、推古天皇御即位以前に尺八が日本に渡来して居なければ、聖徳太子が大和の椎坂で尺八を吹かせ給うた
という事が嘘になる).
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Processes. The sociologist Itō Kimio states that the image of Shōtoku Taishi was worshiped
by artisans, but despised by the nationalist intellectuals at the end of the Edo period. The
interest in the prince increased at the beginning of the twentieth century, and there was a
peak in published works relating to Shōtoku Taishi from 1903 to 1921. In the 1930s the
patriotic image of him as an embodiment of the national spirit became stronger.920
The fact that the notion of Shōtoku Taishi playing the shakuhachi has been persistent
during the centuries does, however, remain intact. Even the possibility of such a connection
may attach a different value to the shakuhachi tradition.
7.3 Conclusions
My analyses indicate that the komusō created an origin from writings they knew, and from
the activities of the low-ranking beggar-monks komosō. Already at the end of the sixteenth
century some samurai had gathered together, and begun to call themselves komusō. They
were not officially acknowledged, but kept conducting their begging activities, claiming to
be Rinzai Zen Buddhists. They built lodges all over the country, calling them komusō
temples. To show their intentions as monks they fabricated references to Hottō Kokushi,
and the obscure monk Fuke. To show their status as samurai they invented references to the
fourteenth-century general Kusunoki Masakatsu.
When Hayashi Razan wrote his commentary to Tsurezure-gusa in 1621, he connected the
boro-boro with the komosō, but he did not make any references to the komusō. Razan was
directly connected to the central authorities. His Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi was a commentary
on the Tsurezure-gusa, which was highly valued and was probably one of the most
well-known books of the day. When the samurai-monks wrote down their ‘doctrine’ in 1628,
rather than insisting on the name komusō, it seems plausible that they based it on the
connection Razan had made between boro-boro and komosō. The word komusō (emptiness
– nothingness – monk) does, however, have more ‘Buddhist sounding’ connotations, and
until 1664, when Shichiku shoshin-shū was published, this name was probably introduced
into society little by little, until the official acknowledgement of the komusō was issued in
1677. This change does not – I argue – contain any elements of the komosōs’ activities or
status, except for the use of the shakuhachi.
The twentieth-century studies that I have examined connect the komosō and the komusō,
and except for the historian Hosaka, similarities are drawn between the komosō and the
boro-boro, thereby connecting the boro-boro with the komusō. The poems by Ikkyū have
created an image in which he is regarded as a prototype for the komosō, without any
discussion about Ikkyū’s religious notions or thoughts. The twentieth-century studies build
a doctrine around the shakuhachi tradition, and could from that viewpoint be regarded as
constituting something akin to Foucault’s qualifying ritual for entering a discourse on the
history of the shakuhachi (cf. Section 1.3.3). The means of constructing the doctrine include
obscure citations of identifiable sources (Morinaga’s Type 2 citations), e.g., the partial
920
Itō Kimio, “The Invention of Wa and the Transformation of the Image of Prince Shōtoku in Modern Japan,” 1998,
42–43.
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Chapter 7 – (Re-)Constructing Tradition: Discussion and Conclusions
interpretations of the poems in the scroll painting of artisans, and assumptions of similarity.
The doctrine is established by an authoritative body of established researchers, and the
doctrine itself precludes any other utterances. Foucault asserts that a doctrine “binds the
individuals with certain types of utterances and, thereby, prohibits all other.”921 On the other
hand, the utterances bind individuals together, and differentiate them from other individuals.
An individual who is aligned with the doctrine is also part of the group of individuals who
hold it for truth. Thereby, the individuals who give voice to a doctrine become subjects of
the doctrine, and the doctrine itself is subjected to the group of individuals. The doctrine
becomes locked within the group, and is only subject to change by the authoritative body
regulating it.
The komusō referred to themselves as komosō or boro for a short period of time during
the process of creating a social footing, rather than during the process of creating an origin,
even if these two processes partly overlap. During the Edo period, at least from the middle
or end of the seventeenth century, the common view of the shakuhachi tradition was in
connection to Fuke, Hottō Kokushi, and komusō. Thus, the process of re-creating a tradition
during the twentieth century may be better understood as an invention of a new tradition.
Based on my analyses of the primary sources referred to as the origins of the komusō in the
twentieth-century studies, I conclude that this tradition is a fabrication of the Modern Period
Japan, i.e., an invented tradition. The connection between shakuhachi and Ikkyū, and
between shakuhachi and Shōtoku Taishi, are constructs created during the twentieth century.
Neither was referred to by the komusō, and they should thus be regarded as examples of
newly invented traditions.
921
Foucault, Diskursens ordning (L'ordre du discours) (The Order of Discourse), translation into Swedish by Mats
Rosengren, Brutus Östling, 1993, 31. (Foucault, L’ordre du discours, Leçon inaugurale au Collège de France
prononcée le 2 décembre 1970, Éditions Gallimard, 1971, 45).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
In this chapter I investigate the notion of ‘tradition’ as something that can be transmitted. In
order to transmit a ‘tradition,’ that which is being transmitted must contain elements that
have been classified as carrying or containing ‘traditional’ material by the participants
involved in the act of transmission. If it is possible to define elements in the shakuhachi
music that are in some respect representative of – or characterized by – a tradition, it would
be possible to conclude that the shakuhachi music is traditional in respect to the definition
of these elements. I examine the transition of shakuhachi music, focusing on the period
from the middle of the eighteenth century through the twentieth century, and discuss some
aspects of the transformation that this transition led to. I also discuss the canonization of
repertoires, and elements pertaining to the acts of transmission. I am convinced that some of
the aspects discussed below are also valid for other kinds of music, in Japan or other music
cultures, but I do not intend to make any sort of comparison.
There are a large number of various schools and lineages in the world of shakuhachi
music, ranging from the meditation practices of the followers of komusō activities, to
musicians who perform jazz and contemporary avant-garde music. Since the focus of the
present study is on ‘tradition,’ I have limited the investigation of transmission to that within
the oldest extant of the formalized schools: Kinko-ryū. Section 8.1 is a discussion of the
development of this and other schools. Here I also discuss the canonization of repertoires,
and since canonization is based on written material, I include a discussion of aspects
relating to orality and literacy in the process of transmission. Section 8.2 contains an
analysis of the notion of kata, or prescriptive form, as a defining element of ‘tradition’ in
the music. Finally, in Section 8.3, I discuss the actual acts of transmission, based on
Georges’s theory of Events (cf. Section 1.3.3.4) and Abrahams’s theory of Enactment (cf.
Section 1.4.2), as well as field studies by myself and others: how it is conducted, and what
forms surround it.
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Chapter 8 – Transmission of Tradition
922
Lee asserts that, “there has been no single performer of the stature and lasting influence of Kinko I” (Yearning
for the Bell …, 1993, 154).
923
Here I use the word ‘school’ to denote a lineage, both as an aesthetic standard and as an administrative unit. The
sect itself was supposed to be the only organisational body to control and manage the activities of the komusō. As
time passed, the practice of monks teaching shakuhachi to commoners emerged, and the monks and their groups of
students acted as semi- or sub-organisational entities, without the overt consent by the authorities.
924
宮地一閑. Biographical data are not known.
925
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 103.
926
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 41, 42.
927
See Plate 30 in Section 8.3.1 below, for a brief explanation of how the scores are written.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
to play for performers of each school. This indicates that at the time when this notation was
written, in the late 1920s, there was a difference, but no sharp and exclusive line, between
the two lineages. The Ikkan-ryū is no longer extant,928 and it probably more or less merged
with Kinko-ryū already during the nineteenth century (see below). No other ‘school’ – as an
organisational unit – developed during the Edo period, even though there was some
turbulence within the Kinko-ryū during the nineteenth century.
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Chapter 8 – Transmission of Tradition
Kinko-ryū honkyoku.933 Thereby the circle of the two Edo period lineages was closed.934
This is also indicated by the two plates of notation above: Kinko-ryū and Ikkan-ryū had
merged, but there were still those who followed the Ikkan style of playing in the Shōwa
period (1926–1989). Even Yamaguchi Gorō played several of the parts noted as “only in
Ikkan- ryū,” which is an indication that there has not been any strict division between the
two lineages in the Modern Period. 935 The father and teacher of Yamaguchi Gorō,
Yamaguchi Shirō, worked with Miura Kindō to complete the 1928–29 notation.936 There
can have been no misunderstanding in this transmission, and the choice to include the “in
Ikkan-ryū only”-parts must have been made deliberately.
With reference to Section 4.3 above, the development of the Kinko-ryū should be
regarded as an expression of an urban culture. The blood-lineage transmission ended, and
became what Nishiyama refers to as kanzen sōden, ‘complete transmission,’ in which the
teachers acknowledge prominent students to continue the transmission.937 The development
of yūgei geinō (cf. Section 4.3.2) in which the nobility, among which Nishiyama includes
samurai, developed art forms for their own pleasure, gave way to an increasing number of
leaders within various art forms, so-called iemoto. Nishiyama talks about a “revolutionary
phenomenon of cultural transmission” when describing how the ‘complete transmission’ in
various art forms spread and laid the ground for the hierarchical system known as the
iemoto seido, a system with a head of each school constituting the fundament of the art.938
The iemoto is administrative, executive, and aesthetic leader, and sets the norms to which all
members should adhere. Since no other schools developed apart from the two closely
related Kinko-ryū and Ikkan-ryū, the ‘complete transmission’ did not seem to have had the
same revolutionary effect in the world of shakuhachi during the Edo period, probably
because the monks were – in principle – regulated by their own provisions, and by
regulations from the central authorities. The situation changed, however, in the early Meiji
period.
The Fuke sect was abolished in 1871, the fourth year of the Meiji period (1868–1912),
and the komusō lost their source of income from begging. The Kinko-ryū had already
established itself in the city of Edo, and thanks to the monks’ activities of teaching
shakuhachi to townspeople it was fairly easy for the ex-komusō living in the new capital
Tokyo to adapt and become musicians. 939 Already in the Edo period, it had become
common to produce instruments marked with the name of the maker, so a qualitative
933
Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 229–230. (横田五柳/豊田古童).
934
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 106. Kamisangō holds that some players still
claimed to belong to Ikkan-ryū in the Meiji period.
935
For example, in the part of “Shizu no Kyoku” shown in Plate 27, as well as similarily short parts, normally not
more than one phrase, in “Yoshiya Reibo” (吉野鈴慕), “Uchi-kae Kyorei” (打替虚霊), and “Namima Reibo” (波間鈴慕)
Yamaguchi Gorō plays the “in Ikkan-ryū”-parts. At places where the “in Ikkan-ryū”-part constitutes a repetition of
the previous phrase, or where there is a choice between Ikkan-ryū and Kinko-ryū, as in “San’ya Sugagaki” (三谷菅
垣), Yamaguchi Gorō does not play the “Ikkan-ryū”-part; he skips the repetition and chooses the “Kinko-ryū”-part.
(Recording: Yamaguchi Gorō, Ningen-kokuhō Yamaguchi Gorō, shakuhachi no shinzui: shakuhachi honkyoku, CD
set, 1999. Score: Miura Kindō, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi honkyoku gakufu: kenkon (1928–29), 1971.)
936
Kishibe Shigeo, “Ko- Yamaguchi Gorō-shi o omou,” 1999, 7.
937
Nishiyama, “Kinsei no yūgei-ron,” 1972, 615–616.
938
Ibid., 618.
939
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 109.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
hierarchy of the instruments was established.940 Other ex-komusō established their own
institutions or schools, with suffixes like -ryū, -ha, -kai, or -sha, meaning ‘school,’ ‘faction,’
‘association,’ and ‘society,’ respectively. Most of them were associated with a certain
komusō temple, and normally centred on a person who operated from that temple.941
People who were inclined towards the meditative aspects of the komusō activities were
drawn to the temple Myōan-ji in Kyoto, which became the centre for what is known as
Myōan-ryū. This is not a unified school or institution of shakuhachi playing, but rather a
term that denotes the assumed activities of the komusō, which by definition was not music
but a religious practice, i.e., Myōan-ryū is a generic term for what could be described as
‘non-musical shakuhachi activities.’ I will employ the term here denoting this kind of
activities, but I would like to stress that Myōan-ryū does not denote one unified style or
school of shakuhachi playing. In 1883 the Myōan Kyōkai was established, and in 1890
Higuchi Taizan (1856–1914) became an instructor within the association. Higuchi collected
pieces from various parts of Japan, various transmitters and temples, and not only the pieces
transmitted from the temple Myōan-ji. He established the Myōan-ryū Taizan-ha, i.e., the
Taizan faction of the Myōan style of shakuhachi playing, which invigorated the activities
surrounding the Myōan Kyōkai.942
Some of the new institutions were more concerned with new compositions and the
musical possibilities of the shakuhachi, e.g., the Tozan-ryū, established in 1896 by Nakao
Tozan (1876–1956). Nakao Tozan had been a member of the Myōan Kyōkai, but in 1904 he
began composing his own music. The new compositions became the Tozan-ryū honkyoku,
the fundamental repertoire of Tozan-ryū, but these pieces have no relation or connection to
the honkyoku played by the Edo-period komusō. 943 Other schools are Chikuho-ryū,
transmitting honkyoku, Edo-period ensemble pieces, gaikyoku, as well as new music,944 and
Ueda-ryū, which broke off from Tozan-ryū. Both of these latter schools were established in
1917.
The first decades of the Meiji period thus saw what I would regard as a gradual diffusion
of what had been more of a unified tradition during the Edo period, leading to a clearer
division between various schools and styles. If we count the first appearance of the term
komusō in 1598 (cf. Section 4.5) as the origin of this tradition, two centuries passed before
the first diffusion appeared: the establishment of the Kinko-ryū. Yet another century later, at
the end of the nineteenth century, the diffusion increased, with a number of schools and
lineages competing for a position in the world of ‘traditional’ music, leading to a division of
the existing tradition and the establishment of new lineages. The Myōan style developed,
concentrating on transmission of the Edo period honkyoku. The Tozan-ryū was established,
discarding the Edo period honkyoku and instead concentrating on the musical possibilities
of the shakuhachi in the Edo-period secular ensemble pieces (gaikyoku), and new
compositions. The Kinko-ryū changed, putting an emphasis on playing the gaikyoku, which
940
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 32.
941
Lee, Yearning for the Bell …, 1993, 154. Typically, a -ryū is a larger unit, with -ha, -kai, or -sha subdivisions.
942
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 110. (樋口対山/明暗流対山派).
943
Ibid., 114–115. (中尾都山).
944
Ibid., 116–118. (竹保流).
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had been part of the pastime of the urban komusō, while maintaining the thirty-six
Edo-period honkyoku it had canonized (cf. Section 8.1.3 below).945
During the Edo period, the “Kaidō honsoku” of 1628 (cf. Sections 4.3.1 and 4.5.3.2)
already suggests that there were a number of factions within the komusō tradition, which
makes it questionable whether it should be regarded as one unified tradition. We do not,
however, know enough about the differences and similarities between these factions to draw
any conclusions solely from their existence. This outline of the eruption of various schools,
lineages, or styles of shakuhachi in the first three decades of the Meiji period does, however,
indicate a very abrupt change, which I argue should be regarded as a sudden disruption, a
discrete leap, rather than as a continuous development of one single tradition.
No beings of the three worlds [i.e., past, present and future] can be void of Zen qualities,
and therefore there are no events that do not have Zen qualities. In particular, shakuhachi
is not like other musical instruments; using your breath it becomes your Zen practice. If it
was not a Zen implement, then what would it be? Though this is the way it is, the
essential point goes beyond reason, and it is therefore difficult to understand for lay
people.947
945
Lee, Yearning for the Bell …, 1993, 154–155.
946
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi Koten-honkyoku no Kenkyū, 2000, 13. (本曲は虚無僧たちの禅的修行の一環として存在してきた
ものであり、いわゆる歌舞音曲の世界に属すものではなかった。). The word used by Tsukitani for ‘performing arts’ is
kabuongyoku, which literally means ‘song, dance and music performances.’
947
Hisamatsu Fuūyō, Hitori mondō (1823). In Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 209. (三世ものとして禅味な
らざるはなく事として禅味ならざるはなし、就中尺八は余の鳴物とおなじからず気息について己れを修行す、禅器ならずして何ぞ
や、然りといえども理をはなれたるをもって要とすれば、俗人に対して解事かたし).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Nakatsuka also discusses the aspect of honkyoku as being Zen-like, stating that one of the
advantages that the official document “Keichō Okite-gaki” brought with it, in limiting the
shakuhachi to the use as a religious implement, was that it “refined the shakuhachi [in]
Zen-like [aspects].”948 A disadvantage of the “Keichō Okite-gaki” that Nakatsuka discusses
is that the exclusion of the shakuhachi from the rest of the society led to the fact that “the
shakuhachi hid under the name of being a religious implement [hōki], and its musical
progress was neglected.”949 These two aspects are of course connected, two sides of the
same coin. On the other hand, already Hisamatsu Fūyō wrote in the above quoted Hitori
mondō that, “[t]here are many people who
enjoy themselves by playing the shakuhachi
as an instrument for amusement, but those
who study shakuhachi as a Zen implement
are rare,” 950 implying that the number of
‘true’ followers of Kinko-ryū, which
presumably was at the core of the komusō
tradition for Hisamatsu, was on a decline,
whereas the number of townspeople who
played shakuhachi as entertainment were
Plate 29: The string instruments koto and shamisen in
increasing. Thus, the development into
ensemble. From the Didrik Bildt Collection. Meiji period. various schools in the Meiji period was
Used by courtesy of the Etnografiska museet, Stockholm. already prepared for during the Edo period.
In order to differentiate between Edo-
period (or possibly earlier) ‘sound-activities,’ and music composed in alignment with the
new music that developed from the Meiji period (or possibly earlier), Tsukitani uses the
term koten honkyoku to denote the corpus of pieces that are related to the Edo period, or of
the same origin. The term translates as Fundamental Pieces for Shakuhachi from the
Classical Repertoire, and it was originally coined by one of the great shakuhachi players of
the twentieth century, Jin Nyodō (1891–1966),951 in an album from 1964, Shakuhachi koten
honkyoku.952 The notion of a corpus of pieces original to the tradition existed during the Edo
period. The term honkyoku is not used by Nakamura Sōsan in his 1664 Shichiku shoshin-shū,
but it does appear in the regulation issued to the komusō from Myōan-ji in 1694 (cf. Section
4.3 above).953 It was then used more or less as a vague definition of the activities in which
the komusō should engage: they were supposed to conduct their religious practice by and
through “the shakuhachi pieces honkyoku.”954
948
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 237. (尺八を禅的に精練した事).
949
Ibid. I employ a passive form in my translation even though the verb okotaru is a transitive verb. (尺八が法器なる
美名に隠れて、音楽的進歩を怠った事).
950
Hisamatsu Fuūyō, Hitori mondō (1823). In Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 213. (遊戯の尺八をもて遊ぶ
者多くして、禅器の尺八を学ぶ者稀なり).
951
Jin Nyodō (神如道) studied with both Kawase Junsuke I and Miura Kindō, but also with transmitters of other than
Kinko-ryū pieces, e.g., Konashi Kinsui (小梨錦水, 1861–1931), and others.
952
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi Koten-honkyoku no Kenkyū, 2000, 14. (古典本曲).
953
See also the discussion below of its contrasting term, gaikyoku.
954
The 1694 regulation quoted in Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 169. (尺八の手本曲を可
為修行).
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Chapter 8 – Transmission of Tradition
955
The blind monks used the biwa (a lute) as their main instrument. They belonged to the tōdō-za, a state supported
guild of blind monks who played heikyoku, self-accompanied recitations of the Tale of Heike. The tōdō-za has a
history that goes back to the early fourteenth century. YHJ, tōdōza (当道座), by Ōtani Sadao (大谷貞夫, 1938–2003),
accessed on November 7, 2011. The tōdō-za was abolished in 1871. Today there are more women than men who
play the instruments, whether for pleasure, or as performers and teachers.
956
The term sōkyoku-jiuta was coined by Hirano Kenji to describe this genre, which consists of songs accompanied
by the three-stringed shamisen – often referred to as sangen within the jiuta genre – and in many cases the
13-stringed koto (sōkyoku: 箏曲, the koto used here is the so-called sō-goto, i.e. 箏, in contrast to the kin-goto, 琴,
which is a different instrument). Today, the term is often used with the characters reversed: jiuta-sōkyoku. The genre
grew from (initially) locally composed songs in the Kansai area around Kyoto and Osaka, accompanied by the
shamisen and referred to as jiuta, into a full-fledged chamber music with the establishment of the Ikuta-ryū, founded
by Ikuta Kengyō (生田検校, 1656–1715). The koto was in most cases added later. In the late eighteenth century, an
ensemble style in which the koto became the main instrument, and the shamisen has more of a percussive and
rhythmical function, developed in Edo by the hands of Yamada Kengyō (山田検校, 1757–1817). This style is called
Yamada-ryū. (Hirano, Sōkyoku-Jiuta no Kashi …, 1990, 10–12).
The word sankyoku (三曲) means ‘music for three (instruments),’ and was used during the Edo period for ensembles
with koto, shamisen, and the bowed kokyū (胡弓). Ensembles with only koto and shamisen were at times referred to
as nikyoku (二曲). The designation sankyoku was kept when shakuhachi became part of the ensemble. The term is
used to denote the genre, the pieces performed within the genre, and the performance style. It is used even when
there is no shakuhachi or kokyū. (Tanabe Hisao, Kikkawa Eishi, Fujita Shunichi, Sankyoku-hen, Gendai-hōgaku
meikan 1, 1966).
957
The term gaikyoku (外曲) normally denotes the Edo period chamber music, i.e., jiuta-sōkyoku, but by extension it
also denotes pieces from the Meiji, Taishō, and early Shōwa periods, composed in a ‘traditional’ style. Modern
compositions would be referred to as gendai ongaku (modern music), gendai-kyoku (modern piece) etc., but in a
broad definition gaikyoku denotes everything that is not honkyoku for a specific lineage or school.
958
rankyoku (乱曲).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
instruments, and Kondō Sōetsu (1821?–1867) made his own shakuhachi parts for the koto
and shamisen ensemble pieces. Eventually a lineage called Sōetsu-ryū developed, but it did
not survive to present time. Several of the schools that originated in the area around Kyoto
and Osaka from the Meiji period onward were, however, influenced by it,959 and the present
iemoto of the Chikuho-ryū (situated in the Kansai area) claims to be the successor of
Sōetsu-ryū. 960 The string performer Hayashi Mieko comments on the appearance of
shakuhachi in ensemble playing in the following way:
In this third period [referring to the end of the 18th to the beginning of the 19th century],
the shakuhachi was a religious implement and any ensemble playing was forbidden.
However, behind the official policy, the liberation of shakuhachi as a musical instrument
for entertainment had progressed considerably. There are several examples of scroll
paintings including shakuhachi in sankyoku performances. Already in the “Kashizu”
from Tenmei 2 (1782), we find a picture of shakuhachi in an ensemble. 961
With reference to the development of shakuhachi notation for the ensemble pieces, and
the activities in the area around Osaka and Kyoto, Hayashi Mieko further comments that:
[Kondō Sōetsu] revealed his most major activities within sankyoku ensemble playing. He
himself performed both sangen and koto, transposed the notation for the shakuhachi and
spread it among his disciples. The very establishment of the Sōetsu-ryū shows clearly
how the position of the shakuhachi changed at the end of the Edo period to be only the
name of a religious implement, without any essence. 962
We will probably never know whether the composers of the jiuta-sōkyoku pieces ever
embraced the concept of having shakuhachi in the sankyoku ensemble, but since a part for
the bowed instrument kokyū was added by either the composer, or a person standing close to
him, they at least had a notion of using an instrument with a sustained tone in the ensemble;
in contrast, both the koto and the shamisen are played with plectra, which give a short
percussive sound.
The real breaking point for shakuhachi was its near-abolition in the early Meiji period.
As a religious implement of the Fuke sect monks, the authorities wished to abolish not only
the sect, but also all the items connected to it. Two komusō, Araki Kodō II, the leader of
Kinko-ryū during the transmission from the Edo to the Meiji period, and Yoshida Itchō,
959
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 106–107. (近藤宗悦).
960
On the Homepage of Chikuho-ryū one finds, in English and Japanese: “With regard to performance style,
Chikuho Ryu’s was derived from Kansai Soetsu Ryu. The unique arrangement of Jiuta Sokyoku demonstrates the
Kansai taste of Chikuho Ryu, and is regarded as a special characteristic of Chikuho Ryu that no other school shares.”
(http://www.chikuhoryu.jp/English01.html). The Chikuho-ryū also claims to be the most authentic and direct
succession of shakuhachi honkyoku playing: Myōan Shinpō-ryū (明暗真法流). According to Sagara Yasuyuki, the
name of the lineage (the True Law of Myōan) was introduced by Katsuura Seizan ( 勝浦正山 , 1856–1942),
presumably in order to demonstrate a contrast to and resistance against Higuchi Taizan (cf. Section 8.1.3.3); the
name was probably intended as a statement of authenticity. (Sagara Yasuyuki, “Shinpō-ryū ni tsuite,” 2008, 14).
961
Hayashi Mieko, “Jita-sōkyoku no gassō no kenkyū: sangen to koto o chūshin ni,” 1984, 148. (この III 期[18 世紀後
期∼19 世紀中期を指している]においても、尺八は、普化宗の法器として、合奏を禁じられていた。しかし、表向きの政策とは裏
腹に、娯楽用楽器としての尺八の解放はかなり進んでいた。尺八入り三曲合奏が描かれた例も少なくないのである。すでに、天明 2
(1782)年の『歌糸図』にも尺八入り合奏図が見える。).
962
Ibid., 150–151 ([近藤宗悦が]三曲合奏を主にした活躍を見せた。彼自身、三弦・箏を演奏し、その採譜をもとに尺八に移し
て、門人に広めたという。宗悦流の成立そのものも、幕末における法器としての尺八の有名無実化を、顕著に示している。).
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convinced the Meiji government that the shakuhachi had an older and more ‘original’
foundation as a musical instrument.963 Yoshida was summoned to the new Ministry of
Religious Affairs in May 1870, 964 to reply to the inquiry concerning the ways the
shakuhachi was used, and was asked to reply in writing as to the origins of the shakuhachi.
In his response, Yoshida wrote that the shakuhachi had its origin in the Tang dynasty China,
where it had been used as a musical instrument, and that it was used as a musical instrument
at the present time also in Japan. He was summoned again within a few days, and he then
gave the following explanation:
At this time, [I told them that] the shakuhachi cannot be abolished. Nowadays, it goes
without saying that we play this instrument for our well-being and happiness. … As I
have said before, if the Fuke-shū is abolished, the shakuhachi of today is no longer a Zen
implement, and if it is restored as a musical instrument, I understand that there seems to
be no need for the original honkyoku. There are many people who have thrown away the
honkyoku and only learn to play the gaikyoku ensemble pieces with strings and vocals,
but they can hardly be said to be skillful. … 965
Yoshida continues by explaining how poor some of the players are, only thinking about
the ensemble but missing the essentials of playing shakuhachi, the breath. He concludes:
“[I]f the honkyoku are not related to the strings and song, then the voice of the bamboo
really hits your ear, [the sound] approaching perfection. … [The honkyoku are] essential for
beginners, and should not be discarded.”966 Thereby he leaves room for using honkyoku as a
kind of etudes. Yoshida was of course arguing for the survival of the shakuhachi at a time
when it was threatened, but nevertheless, his argument that the shakuhachi was originally a
musical instrument indicates that he was knowledgeable about the older history of the
shakuhachi, apart from its legendary origins.
Kurihara comments on Yoshida’s views on the position the shakuhachi ought to have,
and gives high esteem to the musical activities of the Meiji and Taishō periods.
We must say that [Yoshida’s comments] very well clarify the nature of present-day
shakuhachi. The transition of this remarkable nature should be given its proper place in
the history of the shakuhachi, and when commenting on the shakuhachi from this
viewpoint, the present-day shakuhachi, i.e., after having been restored, has now reached a
point where it displays its original nature for the first time.967
Both Kurihara and Nakatsuka refer to the seclusion of the shakuhachi within the Fuke
sect in less positive terms. For Kurihara the shakuhachi could eventually show its “original
963
Araki Kodō II (二世荒木古童, 1823–1908); Yoshida Itchō (吉田一調, 1812–1881).
964
The Kyōbushō (教部省) was established in 1872, instead of the Jingishō (神祇省), which in turn was established in
1871, as a continuation of the Jingikan (神祇官). Yoshida writes that he was summoned to the Kyōbushō, which
indicates that he wrote his notes after 1872.
965
Yoshida Itchō’s notebooks, in Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 192–193. (此際尺八の号廃せられざる事、今
時この器を弄ふ我輩の幸福といはんか、(中略)前に言ふ如く普化宗廃せられたれば、今時の尺八は禅器にあらず楽器たれば元来
の本曲は用なきものに似たりと心得、本曲を捨専ら糸唄合奏の外曲をのみ学ぶ者多し上手の境に入難し).
966
Ibid., 194. (また本曲は糸唱歌に係はらざれは、唯竹声のみに心ととまるが故に、徹底するに近し、…、初心の肝要とするが如
し、本曲は捨へからず。).
967
Ibid. (是れ能く現代尺八の性質を闡明ならしめたるものと云ふべし此の顕著なる性質上の變遷は實に尺八の歴史に特筆せさる
べからずして此の點より云ふときは現代の尺八は乃ち復古して始めて本來の性質を發揮するに至りしものなり).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
nature” after the Meiji restoration, and in the quote at the beginning of this section
Nakatsuka says that the musical development was neglected, even if the honkyoku did
contribute some Zen-like aspects to the music culture.
I argue that the transition described in Yoshida’s diary, and the comments by Kurihara
and Nakatsuka, do not indicate a gradual development of the shakuhachi’s position in
society, but rather a discrete leap from a position of being an implement to the position of a
musical instrument. Within the Kinko-ryū, the iemoto system was already, in practice,
founded in the Edo period, even though it did not develop as such due to the sectarian
environment in which it was established; the komusō of the Kinko-ryū were primarily
komusō of the Fuke sect, and secondly they were followers of the Kinko-ryū tradition.
The transition is also one from a honkyoku-based shakuhachi tradition, to a gaikyoku
(ensemble pieces) -based one. As mentioned above, Araki Kodō, the de facto head of the
Kinko-ryū at the beginning of the Meiji period after the death of Yoshida Itchō in 1881,
learned the ensemble pieces before he became a komusō and began studies under the
guidance of Hisamatsu Fūyō. With the transition of the shakuhachi from an implement to an
instrument, the transition from honkyoku to gaikyoku also became a necessary step: from the
Meiji period onwards, students of Kinko-ryū first learn a vast number of ensemble pieces,
before being allowed to study the honkyoku.
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Chapter 8 – Transmission of Tradition
system, so there was no need to adhere to one performance style. (4) There was no custom
of including information about from whom the piece was transmitted, or in what way it had
changed. (5) The honkyoku are solo instrumental music, and there was no need to adjust the
playing to a song text or other instruments.970
With reference to (1) above, Tsukitani makes an exception for Kinko-ryū which, she
asserts, changed quite early on into a tradition of entertainment.971 Nishiyama Matsunosuke,
on the other hand, counts “Fuke shakuhachi” as a general concept among the art forms that
developed into entertainment by and for the nobility (yūgei). 972 The position of the
Kinko-ryū is an interesting aspect in the discussion of orality and literacy in the shakuhachi
tradition. If we regard the Kinko-ryū as a non-religious lineage – an entertainment art form
– of the shakuhachi tradition, contrasted to the assumed religious activities of other komusō,
we would have to draw a line within the Edo-period shakuhachi tradition. On the other hand,
if we regard the Edo-period honkyoku as one tradition, i.e., that of koten honkyoku, a
problem of canonization and literacy arises. Item (2) precludes the need for notation, which
is only partly true. Even if the aim might be to play the pieces by heart, the use of notation
in the process of transmission would be a requirement if the transmission is within a certain
lineage or school. I return to this issue in the discussion about canonization below. However,
it should be noted that playing from memory is not a requirement unique to the komusō
tradition: in most music cultures, genres, and styles it is the common practice to play from
memory. Even if it is not a requirement, it would often be the result of many years of
practice.
With reference to the discussion in Section 1.3.3.4, in which I discuss the postulates put
forward by the folklore scholar Robert A. Georges, the sounds that are transmitted cannot
be regarded as things with an origin, things that are being transmitted as entities with an
existence independent of the context in which they are uttered. The content of an Event, an
‘act of artistic communication,’ does not have an existence outside of the Event. The
existence of linguistic or audial entities relies solely on the small group interaction, within
which the entities are being transmitted. It is of course possible to talk about a repertoire of
classical pieces, koten honkyoku, which is not notated or recorded in any form, but there is
no way in which we could know anything about the content of such a repertoire, except for
in actual performances or acts of transmission, i.e., in concrete enactments. Information
concerning the affiliation between pieces, their interrelated diffusion over time and
geographical space, the temples at which they originated, and so on, is only known through
the canonization of repertoires and records of transmission, i.e., through literate aspects of
the tradition.
970
Ibid., 80, 164.
971
Tsukitani is referring to the shakuhachi-playing as an activity in which the shakuhachi was used as the most
important implement to reach enlightenment instead of chanting sutras. She refers to a regulation issued by the
Myōan-ji temple to the komusō in 1852, a time when the Fuke sect had more or less lost its privileged position in
society, in accordance with the official proclamation of 1847 (cf. Section 4.3). (In 1852 the “Sōmontei-chū e
mōshi-watasu okite-gaki” ( 總門弟中江申渡掟書 ) (Regulation Issued to All Disciples), was issued by Myōan-ji.
Nakatsuka, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan (1936–39), 1979, 176).
972
Nishiyama, “Kinsei geijutsu shisō …,” 1972, 590. Here Nishiyama includes the samurai among the ‘nobility.’
(Cf. Sections 4.3.2 and 8.1.1).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
973
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 69.
974
Hisamatsu Fūyō states that, “Kinko III told me that it is said that there are thirty-six pieces, outer and inner
[honkyoku] pieces together, and that these, with the three secret pieces, were settled by Kinko I, but since they are
not in my possession I do not know.” (Hitori mondō quoted in Kurihara, Shakuhachi shikō (1918), 1975, 213). (三代
目琴古予に語て表裏三十六曲秘曲三曲共初代琴古定めたりといへり是等は予が預る所にあらざれば知らず). I assume that the
pieces were in the possession of the fourth generation Kinko (d. 1861), who eventually left the shakuhachi world. It
is, however, not clear when and how the official leadership was handed over from Kinko IV to Fūyō.
975
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 65. Tsukitani argues that it was at the time of Hisamatsu
that the number was settled at thirty-six.
976
The oldest notations to which Tsukitani refers are one piece from 1769, and thirty-five pieces in Ikkan-ryū
notation from 1797. (Ibid., 61).
977
樋口対山.
978
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 103.
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Chapter 8 – Transmission of Tradition
honkyoku.”979 After Higuchi, several new lineages of Myōan style appeared during the
Meiji, Taishō, and Shōwa periods. Most of them studied with several different teachers,
incorporating different techniques and pieces, and even though their common ground was
the meditative nature of shakuhachi playing, they placed emphasis on different aspects of
the playing, and held different opinions about the pieces and consequently about the sound
production.980
The teachers of the different schools, or factions, within the Myōan style of playing
developed their own notation, based on their own perception of the music. The diffusion
makes it difficult to trace the pieces, even if most of them have a generally agreed origin at
a certain temple, or as transmitted through a certain person.981 Tsukitani says that even those
who claim to adhere to the various local techniques for the different pieces, i.e., the
techniques used at the temple from where a certain pieces originates, developed their own
idiosyncracies. She takes Jin Nyodō (1891–1961) as an example, noting that even though he
consciously attempted to follow the hereditary performance practice for each piece, some
people evaluated him as playing the ‘Jin-ryū,’ i.e., playing in his own style.982
979
Ibid., 116. Tsukitani acknowledges the presence of contending discussions about orthodoxy within the repertoires,
e.g., that Higuchi’s creations are not honkyoku, and that the Araki II scores constitute the orthodox transmission of
Kinko-ryū. Tsukitani states that in her study, orthodoxy is not a central issue. Orthodoxy is, however, an important
question in a discussion about tradition.
980
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 111–112.
981
Tsukitani lists the number of pieces that she counts as koten honkyoku, i.e., the classical repertoire: Kinko-ryū 36,
Nezasa-ha Kinpū-ryū (根笹派錦風流) 10, Myōan Shinpō-ryū (明暗真法流) more than 20 but with notation for 62,
Fudai-ji (普大寺) in Hamamatsu incuding Seien-ryū (西園流) 11, Myōan-ryū Taizan-ha (明暗流対山派) 32, Itchō-ken
( 一朝軒 ) in Hakata 9, Echigo Myōan-ji ( 越後明暗寺 ) 2, and Futai-ken Ōshū-kei ( 布袋軒奥州系 ) more than 10.
(Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 6).
982
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 16.
983
Araki Kodō V (五世荒木古童), Kodō-kai (古童会). Kodō V retired from his activities in 2010, and took the name
Chikuō (竹翁). That means that he would in fact be Chikuō II.
984
Kawase Junsuke III (三世川瀬順輔). Chikuyū-sha (竹友社).
985
The head of the Chikumei-sha branch of Kinko-ryū, Yamaguchi Gorō, passed away in 1999. After his death the
guild has been managed as an association, with a board of trustees rather than an iemoto. The two main teachers
within the guild are Tanaka Kōmei (田中康盟), and Matsuyama Ryūmei (松山龍盟).
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Inoue Shōei (b. 1922), head of the Kōun-kai sub-branch to the Chikuyū-sha guild of
Kinko-ryū, also claims heredity to the Kinpū-ryū, one of the styles within Myōan-ryū.986
According to Lee, Inoue asserts that he received a specific instrument as a symbol of
authority in the Kinpū-ryū, and that this instrument, “symbolizes both the successful
transmission of the honkyoku repertoire from his predecessor to himself, as well as the
authority and responsibility he has as iemoto to define and preserve the authenticity of that
repertoire.”987
In contrast to Inoue, Aoki Reibo II (b. 1935), head of the Reibo-kai guild of Kinko-ryū,
regards honkyoku not as means for spiritual training, but as music.988 According to Lee, he
views shakuhachi performers who stress the connection between honkyoku and Zen
Buddhism as “spiritual charlatans.” Aoki considers himself to be the current absolute
authority on honkyoku within his lineage, and students must accept his authority
unconditionally. Aoki’s absolute authority is based on his own professional skills, and this
authority may be challenged at any time. Therefore, honkyoku is not perceived by Aoki as
something unchanging, it is not an ‘object’ that should be transmitted in an unchanged,
original, and pure form, but rather, “honkyoku … is a repertoire of music that might indeed
change over time, depending upon the interpretation of the ‘best’ performer, that is, the one
in the position of authority.”989
Yet another attitude towards the shakuhachi tradition is expressed by Yokoyama Katsuya
(1934–2010), former head of the guild Chikushin-kai.990 Yokoyama studied with his father
Yokoyama Ranpō, a teacher of Kinko-ryū, Fukuda Randō, who was also a composer of new
music, and Watazumi.991 Yokoyama’s affiliation is therefore more complicated than an
assertion that he belonged to one single lineage or tradition. Lee regards this as an example
of the way the komusō would transmit their pieces, crossing over between different styles.
Yokoyama believed that, “honkyoku constantly change as they are transmitted from one
generation to the next.”992
***
When it comes to technical aspects, i.e., the how-to of the learning process, different
teachers have different approaches even within the same lineage. For example, Kawase
Junsuke III talks of the finger attack technique atari as the most central and important
technique in Kinko-ryū shakuhachi playing, a technique that gives the style (Kinko) its
particular character. Araki Kodō V (Chikuō II), on the other hand, says that he feels that
many people use the finger-attack techniques too much, without discrimination.993 In my
own learning experience, when I had reached a more advanced level of playing it happened
that my teacher, Yamaguchi Gorō, would at times stop me during a lesson if I played
986
Inoue Shōei (井上照影); Kōun-kai (江雲会); Chikuyū-sha (竹友社); Kinpū-ryū (琴風流).
987
Lee, Yearning for the Bell …, 1993, 289, 290. Words in italics underlined in the original.
988
Aoki Reibo II (二世青木鈴慕); Reibo-kai (鈴慕会).
989
Lee, Yearning for the Bell …, 1993, 292, 293.
990
Yokoyama Katsuya (横山勝也); Chikushin-kai (竹心会).
991
Yokoyama Ranpō (横山蘭畝, 1911–1988); Fukuda Randō (福田蘭童, 1906–1976); Watazumi (海童, 1911–1992).
992
Lee, Yearning for the Bell …, 1993, 298. Words in italics underlined in the original.
993
Personal communications with Araki Kodō V (May 27, 2009) and Kawase Junsuke III (May 29, 2009).
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Chapter 8 – Transmission of Tradition
something that was different from his own playing, for example in regard to the finger
attacks. Then he would ask if I had played it that way on purpose. If my answer was
affirmative he would go on playing, but he would ‘correct’ me if I showed hesitation or said
that I had not planned to play it the way I did. Since I have not studied formally with any
other teacher than Yamaguchi Gorō, I cannot comment on how, when and if other teachers
would correct a student who plays something differently, on purpose or by mistake. I find
the approach that Yamaguchi Gorō took to be open-minded and challenging in relation to
the interpretation of the music; it presupposes a perception of music as in constant change.
994
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 32.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
Meiji period, we are currently at the fifth generation.995 If we go back to Kinko I, we are at
the ninth or tenth generation. To conclude that current players belong to the same ‘tradition’
as their great-great-grandfathers, or twice or thrice that, there has to be not only the canon of
pieces, but there must also be some aspects of the music, some aspects of the pieces, that
make it possible to evaluate the pieces performed long ago and determine whether those
performed today are identical.
Following Georges’s Event theory (to use my term; cf. Section 1.3.3.4), the
communicative act (for the purpose of X) contains continuous interaction between the
sender and the receiver, or in Nattiez’s terms, between the Poietic Processes that result in a
code (audial, linguistic, paralinguistic, and kinesic), and the perception and interpretation
through the Esthesic Processes on the part of the receiver. The participants behave in
accordance with the social setting, and assume the roles prescribed by it. The Event is a
unique occasion, with irreversible effects. Finally, the Event exhibits certain aspects of
similarity, by which the participants can identify a type of event (performance, lesson, etc.),
and these aspects of similarity are, by their very nature, different from group to group.
Accordingly, a deviation from the notation in a performance by a student-performer would
be evaluated as a ‘mistake’ by listeners belonging to the same sub-group, but not necessarily
so by listeners who belong to another non-affiliated sub-group. The same deviation from the
notation, in the same social setting, by a teacher-performer, i.e., the artistic and aesthetic
leader, would be perceived as the ‘right way’ of playing, or maybe as a ‘development’ of
the tradition, since the Event has irreversible effects on the group and the surrounding
society. If there are physical entities – existing uniformly with, and independently from,
actual Events – that we evaluate as ‘traditional’ elements, and that are supposed to be
reproduced with accuracy in order to follow the tradition, then we would have to conclude
that there can be no diffusion and no change of the music; even the teacher-performer would
be evaluated as having made a mistake. The existence of such prescriptive entities would
indicate a rigidly fixed form, which each and every performer is supposed to follow.
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structural element, which has kept the form of the music, and other kinds of art, intact. Also
Tsukitani Tsuneko uses the term kata in her analyses of shakuhachi honkyoku, and in
Tsukitani’s writing the term seems to denote structural patterns within musical phrases. I
believe there are strong similarities in the way Kikkawa and Tsukitani employ this term in
relation to the structure of a piece. Kikkawa, however, places emphasis on kata as an
unchanging element, whereas Tsukitani’s conception of kata does not seem to go beyond
the factual existence of patterns in the notated score.
The aim of this section is to consider these concepts of kata, firstly Kikkawa’s and
Tsukitani’s structural forms, and secondly Nishiyama’s concept of prescriptive forms, and
examine whether they are related to the act of transmission and, if so, in what way they are
related. Furthermore, I investigate the characteristics of kata as a central concept in
Nishiyama’s notion of geidō, which he in turn asserts is the qualifying characteristic of
Japanese traditional arts. Does the existence of kata define the shakuhachi music as a
Japanese traditional art form? I discuss kata as structural elements in Section 8.2.1 below,
and in Sections 8.2.2 and 8.2.3 Nishiyama’s notion of kata and their function.
996
Kikkawa, Nihon ongaku no seikaku, 1980, 175. (【そしてこのような】型を遵奉する精神は革命のない国だけが有すると
ころの特性である。… 伝統精神や尚古思想が許されるはずはない。).
997
Ibid., 153. By ‘Japanese music’ Kikkawa is referring to musical genres that developed prior to the Meiji period.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
most correct way” to their followers. I believe that Kikkawa’s notion of art can be
summarized in a rhetorical question he puts forward: “is it not so that [the Japanese artists]
always have shown absolute respect for the art of their teachers, adhering to the spirit of the
ancient masters, and actively trying to let themselves melt into the ‘forms’ with which they
have been presented?”998 The creativity, thus, lies in the process of adapting oneself to the
forms that constitute the art in question. The conclusion must, therefore, be that the forms
exist independently of any execution of them, i.e., they exist independently from any
enactment of the art. In other words, the forms, kata, are tangible structural elements of the
music.
Kikkawa gives a large number of examples of kata in Japanese music, ranging from court
music, Nō, and the popular art forms of the Edo period, e.g., the music in Kabuki and the
puppet theatre.999 Since the present study is centred around the instrumental shakuhachi
music I omit his discussion of order of performance in Nō, the vocal parts of recitation in
Nō, the order in which music and dancers appear in the court music, and so on. In direct
relation to music, Kikkawa asserts that there are identifiable kata in the melody lines of the
song and the instruments. For example, in the epic genre Gidayū-bushi, there are forty to
fifty different kinds of kata. From this limited number the composer would “select and
arrange” kata so that they blend musically with the instruments and the vocal lines. The
performer should attempt to blend him- or herself with the kata, and “what should be
respected is not the outer form, but the spirit of the kata.”1000
Kikkawa’s generic discussion of kata relates to the research on shakuhachi music
conducted by Tsukitani Tsuneko. Tsukitani uses her own term, onku, to denote the smallest
melodic unit. I suggest the translation “sound phrase,” as she differentiates between these
onku, and the larger units gakku. The latter is a common musical term in Japanese, denoting
a musical phrase. A gakku can consist of one or several onku, where each onku is ideally
performed in one breath.1001 In her analyses, Tsukitani at times implicitly uses the notion of
‘form’ or ‘pattern,’ and also at times talks about kata. For example, she states that: “In
Kinko-ryū … the number of different individual sounds and variation of pitches within a
sound phrase is small. Occasionally there are sound patterns that contains a greater number
of individual sounds, but even in these cases the sound patterns are performed divided into
several [smaller units] (by adding breathing spells), and the whole piece will sound as a
succession of sound phrases of equally long duration.”1002 She also refers to patterns at the
end of pieces, in which case she uses the word kata.1003 It seems as if she envisages a unit,
sound patterns, that are bigger than sound phrases (onku), but smaller than musical phrases
(gakku), although sometimes it seems that ‘sound patterns’ and ‘sound phrases’ are used
more or less as synonyms. My own analyses indicate the existence of ‘intermediate size
998
Ibid., 154. (【日本の芸術家は】 … 常に師の芸術を絶対に尊び、古人の精神を守り、積極的に、与えられた「型」の中に自己
を溶かし込もうとしたのではなかったか。).
999
Ibid., 155–160.
1000
Ibid., 167. (その型の選択と配列/尊重すべきは、型の外形ではなく、型の精神なのである).
1001
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 128. (音句/楽句). Tsukitani uses the words ‘motif’ for
onku, and ‘phrase’ for gakku (p. 137), but the word ku refers to a ‘phrase’ or a ‘clause’ and I would prefer to refer to
onku as ‘sound phrases.’
1002
Ibid., 133. Emphasis added. (琴古流では … 音句内の音数も音高の種類も少ない。時たまたくさんの音数を持つ音型があっ
ても、それらはいくつかに分割して(息継ぎを増やして)演奏されるので、全曲が時間的に平等な音句の連続と聞こえる。).
1003
E.g., Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 135.
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units’ in the music, and units that are smaller than Tsukitani’s ‘sound phrases.’ I believe that
these smaller units are an important aspect when analyzing the transmission of the honkyoku
tradition, and I return to this discussion in Section 8.3.
Tsukitani’s thorough and comprehensive research indicates the existence of a limited
number of ‘sound phrases.’ Analyzing thirteen of the thirty-six Kinko-ryū honkyoku,
Tsukitani found a total of 1,078 sound phrases, consisting of 356 different kinds. That
means that, on the average, one in every third phrase was of the same kind. The number is
greater than the forty to fifty kata to which Kikkawa referred as being used in Gidayū-bushi,
but the idea of arranging a number of fixed forms in a certain order is the same.1004
1004
Ibid., 133–134. Because of the relatively limited number of kinds of sound phrases, it is almost impossible to
hear what piece, or what part of a given piece, is being performed at any given moment, something that Tsukitani
also concludes. I believe that this is also a reason why the pieces tend to be long: it takes time to create the right
atmosphere of the piece with the relatively limited number of building blocks.
1005
Nishiyama enumerates the terms an’i (安位), ran’i (闌位), and shigoku no kyō (至極の境), which according to him
are the quintessence of mastery of the Nō art. (Geidō to dentō, 1984, 46).
1006
Nishiyama, Geidō to dentō, 1984, 46.
1007
Ibid. (その「型」というものは、実はその奥に「心」が封じ込まれている。だから「型」をほんとうに体得すれば「心」は「型」
み
とともに、躬をもって所有することになる。).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
not matter what Way of Art, what geidō, the case might be, the principle is exactly the same
even if there are differences in regard to names and ways of doing it.1008
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accumulated art of that person, i.e., there are no elements in the form, kata, that can relate to
anything outside of the transmitter, other than by means of allusion: transmitter B was the
student of transmitter A, hence, transmitter B has accumulated the art, i.e., the physical
movements, of transmitter A. But, there is nothing in the kata that would substantiate this.
Even with exquisite recordings of both transmitters, we could, at the most, conclude that
they move exactly in the same way. They have been able to re-create exactly the same work
of art: B is a perfect copy of A. Even if we find such strong similarities, what we see is a
work of art, it is not the art in itself, and we would still be adrift in seeking a standard for
determining how divergent they could be, and yet still be considered as transmitting the
same kata. Based on Nishiyama’s notion of kata, I believe that it would be difficult to claim
and substantiate that Yamaguchi Gorō was following the same kata as Kurosawa Kinko I;
doubtful, even, to assert that the art of Yamaguchi Gorō is the same as the art of his father,
who was also his teacher. Still, they are all counted within the tradition of Kinko-ryū.
I believe that Nishiyama’s concept of kata can be summarized in the following four
points: (1) The defining quality of Japanese traditional arts is something called geidō. (2)
Geidō is the way of practicing an art form. (3) Art is the workings, actions, of the body, i.e.,
somatic activities. (4) The somatic activities are governed by prescriptive elements, called
kata.1011 From this and the above discussion it seems that Nishiyama’s notion of kata
indicates a means of instruction from one transmitter to one student. Furthermore,
Nishiyama holds that the kata are created from an original idea of a genius, and many
people have found this a great way of performing an art. The kata becomes the safest, most
splendid, and the fastest way to improve in the art.1012 This implies a blue-print, a scheme to
follow, akin to the structural elements to which Kikkawa and Tsukitani refer, but Nishiyama
holds that the kata are intangible entities.
There certainly seems to be some other essential quality implicit in Nishiyama’s theory
on kata. He does not explicitly link his notion of kata to his concept of ‘tradition,’ but there
seem to be related aspects between the two. Nishiyama’s idea of ‘tradition’ can be summed
up in the following postulates: (i) Tradition is the transmission of tangible and intangible
assets, and the way in which they are transmitted, i.e., in my understanding, partly kata. (ii)
Tradition belongs to society and history, and it is not something that belongs to individuals.
(iii) Tradition always returns to its original occurrence, and from there it is re-experienced
or re-evaluated. (iv) Tradition is transmitted and preserved, and therefore it can be
re-experienced and re-evaluated by the consciousness of contemporary people. (v) Tradition
is combined with a uniform situation, and is therefore not transmitted from one direction
into another direction. (vi) Tradition is something personal, and at the same time it coexists
with the whole affiliated cultural sphere, from ancient times. By ‘personal’ I assume that
Nishiyama wishes to assert that it can be re-experienced and re-evaluated by an individual.
(vii) Tradition is a huge accumulation from past to present, and as such it keeps its classical
form, but it is also the formation of a fixed format, which lives and fulfils its purpose in
present time. (viii) Tradition also builds on an individual volition. If a tradition is no longer
seen as something positive, something we want to have, it will become extinct.1013
1011
Nishiyama, Geidō to dentō, 1984, 141–143; Nishiyama, “Kinsei geijutsu shisō …,” 1972, 585–586.
1012
Nishiyama, “Kinsei geijutsu shisō …,” 1972, 586.
1013
Nishiyama, Geidō to dentō, 1984, 454–457.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
The essence of tradition is that which is transmitted, and it can be understood if the
receiver re-interprets and re-evaluates it. I believe that Nishiyama’s idea is that this process
is conducted by means of the prescriptive forms.
1014
Hobsbawm, “Introduction: Inventing Traditions,” 1992, 4.
1015
Nishiyama, Geidō to dentō, 1984, 70.
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following the prescribed forms in order to learn the art. Then comes a time when the forms
are to be destroyed, distorted, or changed. After that the learner is supposed to leave the
realm of the art, and create it anew. The first two stages both include the preceding art form,
the kata which is obeyed or destroyed. In the final stage, the learner leaves the kata s/he has
learned, and creates something new from this.
At the entrance level, where adherence to the forms are required, the Poietic Dimension
of the Enactment – the processes that lead to a physical object – must be aligned with the
expectations in the Esthesic Dimension in order to make sense for the participants, i.e., here
the learners of a tradition, and the boundaries of understanding are the boundaries of the
teaching of an iemoto, within his or her guild.
Tsukitani discusses kata on the level of musical phrases, and representative kata for a
complete piece, and she holds that the formation of phrases is related to how these phrases
are performed, in terms of rhythm, tempo, and dynamics,1016 i.e., in my understanding on
the level of ‘sound phrases.’ Thus, the canonization of the repertoire within the various
sub-divisions of schools included major changes in how the pieces were performed. On the
other hand, the structural elements of the pieces, as they were written down, are not
prescriptive per se; the structure indicates identity, but a discrete realization of a piece is
part of an enactment, and as such, it is dependent of the surrounding context.
Kikkawa and Tsukitani, on the one hand, seem to regard kata as structural and tangible
elements that constitute the building blocks of an art form, and here I firstly and primarily
regard kata as structures in music. The music is created by arranging the limited number of
kata in a certain order. The order in which the kata unfolds are of course the structure of the
music, giving a certain piece a context-independent existence, but the kata also contain
certain prescriptive elements: a certain form should be performed in the prescribed way.
On the other hand, Nishiyama seems to regard kata as prescriptive and intangible
elements that guide a learner of a tradition: once incorporated in the being of the practitioner,
their prescriptive function ends and the somatic actions, the workings of the performer,
become natural movements that no longer need guidance. Nishiyama refers to the artfulness
in terms of kokoro, ‘heart’ or ‘spirituality,’ and Kikkawa talks about makoto, ‘truth,’
‘fidelity,’ or ‘devotion.’ For Kikkawa, makoto is nothing that you can attach to the art form,
as an ornament, but something that comes from within, and Nishiyama views kokoro as
something that makes the kata come alive.
1016
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 145.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
following sub-sections under this Section 8.3 build on my own fieldwork experience, as
well as comments by some other non-Japanese learners.
Yamaguchi Gorō (1933–99) was one among a handful of transmitters within the
Kinko-ryū.1017 In the present research, the main material in the study of transmission at the
present time is based on my fieldwork. I studied with Yamaguchi from 1985 until his
premature death in 1999. Between 1993 and 1997 I also had lessons with Yamaguchi, and
other teachers, at the Traditional Music Conservatoire of Tokyo University of the Arts,
commonly known as Tokyo Geidai.1018 Yamaguchi Gorō was the head of one of the guilds
within Kinko-ryū, and in 2009 I conducted interviews with the leaders of the three other
main Kinko guilds: Aoki Reibo II (b. 1935), Araki Kodō V (b. 1938), and Kawase Junsuke
III (b. 1936). There was nothing in these interviews that made me change my perception of
actual acts of transmission: they are conducted in similar ways by other teachers, even if
there may be details that differ. I have also consulted writings by Christopher Yohmei
Blasdel, who began studying with Yamaguchi Gorō in the 1970s, and Riley Lee, who
studied with Sakai Chikuho II (1933–1992) from the early 70s until 1980, and with
Yokoyama Katsuya from 1984.1019 Blasdel has written a book about his experiences as a
non-Japanese in the cultural context surrounding the acts of transmission,1020 and in his
1993 PhD thesis Lee refers in part to his experiences as a learner.
1017
His lineage is: Kinko I – Kinko II – Kinko III – Hisamatsu Fūyō – Yoshida Itchō – Araki Kodō II – Kawase
Junsuke I / Miura Kindō – Yamaguchi Shirō. Yamaguchi Gorō was the youngest person ever to be designated
Living National Treasure in 1992, at age 59.
1018
東京国立芸術大学. In English, formerly known as Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music.
1019
Sakai Chikuho (二世酒井竹保); the Chikuho-ryū is mentioned in Section 8.1.1, and Yokoyama Katsuya is
discussed in Section 8.1.3.4.
1020
Christopher Yohmei Blasdel, The Single Tone: A Personal Journey into Shakuhachi Music, (first ed. 2005),
Tokyo: Printed Matter Press, 2008.
1021
A tablature is a system of musical notation in which symbols and signs are used to indicate fingerings, rather
than pitches as in Western staff notation.
1022
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, p. 24. (三浦琴童).
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his teacher, Araki Kodō II (1823–1908),1023 and it is the notation used within the guild of
Yamaguchi Gorō.
I will not explain the notation system in detail, but there are some general aspects of the
notation that need clarification with reference to the example in Plate 30. (1) As mentioned
above, the notation is rudimentary; it constitutes a simplified representation of the basic
structure of the piece, e.g., the two syllabic characters pronounced tsu and ro in the example
in Plate 30. (2) Apart from the basic structure, notated with the syllabic characters,
repetitions are marked with auxiliary symbols, e.g., a tone-bending repetition (nayashi) as in
the example. (3) The Kindō notation is one of the most detailed, and some ornaments are
notated, such as passing microtonal ornaments and phrase ending ornaments, e.g., the
tone-bending ornament at the end of the phrase in the example.1024 These ornaments are not
always played by Yamaguchi as they are written; at times they may be excluded, or
exchanged for other ornaments. Even if there is no ornamental mark, Yamaguchi would, at
times, add an ornament. (4) The rhythm is notated with dots on the right and left side of the
vertically written notation, and the time elapses from side to side, like a pendulum.1025
In the example, the phrase begins on the left side, where the tone with the fingering tsu is
played.1026 The tone is held, while adding a pitch-altering ornament, until one reaches the
right side. On the right side the tone with the
fingering ro is played. Each right-left, or Plate 30: Kinko-ryū notation. Based on the Kindō notation.
left-right, move represents half a beat. Calligraphy by Satō Ryōko in Linder, Kinko-ryū Shakuhachi
Honkyoku, 2011, p. 223.
The next symbol represents a type of
repetition, where the pitch is slightly bent. First structure sound (tsu).
In the example there is no mark on the left
side after the second right-side mark, which
is positioned immediately to the right of the Left-side beat-mark.
Tone-bending ornament.
nayashi repetition. In such cases a virtual
left-side mark is imagined, the pendulum Second structure sound (ro).
Phrase-ending ornament.
1023
荒木古童. The leader of Kinko-ryū during the transmission from the Edo to the Meiji periods, i.e., from the Early Modern
Period to the Modern Period (cf. Section 8.1).
1024
A microtone is a pitch that does not have an exact definition. A passing tone (note) is a sound that is added
between two structural tones.
1025
See also Plates 27 and 28 in Section 8.1.1 above, for a visual illustration of what the actual scores look like.
1026
This tsu is actually a tsu with a lowered pitch, a so-called meri. The indication to lower the pitch is often
omitted.
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This is a standard phrase, and even without the marks for pitch-altering ornaments, i.e.,
the ornament between the two structure sounds tsu and ro, and the phrase ending ornament,
a student who has studied for some time will understand this aspect of the phrase. It is,
however, more or less impossible to learn the details of the phrase, even from the relatively
prescriptive notation we see here. Measuring the time the ‘pendulum’ swings in a recording
of Yamaguchi Gorō, playing the phrase in the example above, yields the following
result:1027 The first half beat, from the left side to the right side, is four and a half seconds.
The second half beat, from the first right-side beat mark to the unmarked left side (the
virtual left-side beat mark), is five and a half seconds. There he takes a breath for two and a
half seconds, and begins from the unmarked left side to the end of the phrase. The phrase
ends on the left side, after the last right-side beat mark, thus, counting four half beats. This
part totals ten seconds, i.e., two and a half seconds per half beat.
Left side (tsu) Right side (ro) Breath Repetition begins Phrase ends
This indicates a time value that is not uniform, and the addition of a seemingly arbitrary
breath. Both of these aspects are, however, an integral part of the performance style of
Yamaguchi Gorō, and in a learning situation they constitute important prescriptive elements.
In other notation systems, e.g., the notation written by the shakuhachi performer Yokoyama
Katsuya (1934–2010), the rhythm is not indicated by dots. Instead, the length of a tone is
indicated graphically with a vertical line: the length of the line is indicative of the length of
the tone, relative the length of other lines. There is no exact and pre-determined ‘correct’
time value, but the time value will change with the discrete enactment of the piece being
performed. With reference to Yokoyama’s perception of time, Riley Lee remarks that each
musical event – like a note, pause, ornament, or attack – is given its correct temporal value,
“[which] is determined … by the events leading to and following the note, pause, etc., in
question.”1028 The rhythmic aspects of the piece are not prescribed by the notation, but
rather, certain relationships are implied through the notation; the actual enactment, how the
piece should be performed, is prescribed in elements that are external to the notated score,
and implicit only in that actual enactment of the piece.
1027
Measured with reference to the waveform display in the recording software GarageBand on May 30, 2011.
1028
Lee, Yearning for the Bell …, 1993, 284.
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1029
口伝.
1030
Kurosawa Kinko III, Kinko techō (The Kinko Notebook), in Tsukamoto, ed., Kinko techō (1937), 1999, 8. (秘曲).
1031
Lee, Yearning for the Bell …, 1993, 224.
1032
Blasdel, The Single Tone: A Personal Journey into Shakuhachi Music, 2008, 19.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
whatever activity the art form in question requires. The things, however, that are created
through the somatic activities are works of art, “but a completed product or an objectivized
artistic object has no relation to geidō.”1033 The art is the activity, but the result of the
activity is not related to the Way of Art. This viewpoint is closely related to the Event that
Robert A. Georges stipulated, i.e., the interaction (kinesic, audial, paralinguistic, etc.)
between sender and receiver in a social context, where all parties have assumed their
respective roles.
1033
Nishiyama, Geidō to dentō, 1984, 142. 「こういうはたらきで創りだされるものは、芸術作品であるが、それが作品として
完結してしまったものとか、客体化してしまった芸術品には、芸道は無関係である。」
1034
Gunnar Jinmei Linder and Mizuno Kōmei in Tokumaru Yoshihiko, et.al., ed., Yūgen naru hibiki: ningen kokuhō
Yamaguchi Gorō no shakuhachi to shōgai, 2008, 221, 258.
1035
Ellingson, “Chapter 6 Notation,” in Helen Myers, ed., Ethnomusicology, An Introduction, 1992, 154.
In my Master’s thesis I also referred to Ellingson’s expanded concept of notation, but there I excluded (3) from
being used within Kinko-ryū. (Linder, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi no gaikyoku ni kansuru kenkyū …, 1997, 28–29).
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occasions, thus, there is a need to identify what musical event is being enacted. To borrow a
concept from the American philosopher Robert Stecker, which he refers to as
‘structure-in-use’: we may regard the notated score as a basic structure of a certain piece,
and an Enactment is a discrete and concrete use of this more or less rigidly fixed
structure.1036 To define a piece in terms of its structure, the development of musical events
over time, would seem to imply that the piece of music does exist external to its enactment,
i.e., independent of the context of the Event. I would, however, argue that the normative
aspects of the structure relate to the process of identifying two separate enactments, and in
this respect it is context-independent. On the other hand, if we consider a Performance-type
of Enactment, the Event is context-dependant, and two separate enactments do not exist
external to their respective enactments. The normative aspects of the structure as identifiers
do not necessarily have any bearing on the expression of the piece in an actual enactment,
i.e., it does not contain any prescriptive elements of expression.
It is necessary here to clarify the difference between creating a piece of music in terms of
composing music, and re-creating it in a Performance-type of Enactment. The intention of
creation, i.e., the Poietic Processes of making up sounds, putting it on paper, deciding on
who is to perform it, etc., is different from the intentions of a performer, who in a real-time
performance is re-creating the piece of music that has been composed, acting upon more or
less explicit instructions from the composer in the notated score. To borrow the words from
the British philosopher R.G. Collingwood, any composer would understand that it is
impossible to give clear and unambiguous prescriptions to all aspects of how a piece should
be performed, i.e., transformed into sonorous reality, and there, according to Collingwood,
the composer “demands of his performer a spirit of constructive and intelligent co-operation”
and goes on to say that “[e]very performer is co-author of the work he performs.”1037
In the case of music that has a composer who has created the music being performed, we
would arrive at a flow of the tripartitional dimensions as in Figure 7. The intentions of the
performer are such as, e.g., give a rendition of the piece that is true to the original, which
would be one example of intention in the creation of art.
Figure 7: The tripartitional flow. Example 1, the relation between Composer – Performer – Audience.
In the above figure we can of course also find a more complex combination of Esthesic
Processes on behalf of both the performer and the audience. The performer will interpret not
just the score, but also other aspects about the composer, the time of composition, and so on.
The audience can of course likewise interpret composer intentions, and the experience may
in turn change depending on who the performer of the piece is. The notated score is one
1036
Robert Stecker, Aesthetics and the Philosophy of Art: An Introduction, 2005, 119–121, 124.
1037
Collingwood, The Principles of Art (1938), 1958, 320–321. Collingwood is referring to Western Classical
music.
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Figure 8: The tripartitional flow. Example 2, the relation between Cultural Context – Performer – Audience.
The composer is replaced by the ‘cultural context.’ I have gray-marked it and put it
within parentheses to indicate that in a performance situation, the aim of the performer may
not be to draw on the whole cultural background, but to create music in the actual
performance situation: an enactment within a given community for the purpose of X. A
listener could of course interpret the performance either in terms of the performer as
belonging to a cultural context, or not belonging to that context.
On the other hand, if we turn to a situation where the purpose of the activities is not to
give the audience an aesthetic experience, but rather to indicate the authenticity or level of
belonging to the cultural context in questions for an informed audience – a given
shakuhachi tradition for example – we arrive at a slightly modified tripartitional flow, as in
Figure 9 below. Here the cultural context becomes central, as it would constitute a major
part of the prescriptive elements. The intention of the transmitter might be different from
that of the performer. The transmitter could well have intentions in the creation of art, i.e.,
intentions relating to the transmission of a musical tradition. The performer could well have
intentions of creation in the art, e.g., the intention of creating something beautiful, or
creating something completely new, or any other intention of creation. In the present study I
will focus on the intention in the transmissive creation of art, rather than intention in
performative creation.
1038
The shakuhachi music is assumed to be anonymous, but within the Kinko-ryū there are some pieces that have
known composers. The canonization conducted by Kinko I–III probably also included certain aspects of
formalization, in the same way as with Higuchi Taizan, i.e., the pieces were most likely changed to fit the
performance style of the person who canonized them.
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Figure 9: The tripartitional flow. Example 3, the relation between Oral Tradition – Transmitter – Learner.
1039
秘伝.
1040
Morinaga, Secrecy in Japanese Arts …, 2005, 3.
1041
家元.
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1042
Blasdel, The Single Tone: A Personal Journey into Shakuhachi Music, 2008, 17.
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playing, except in rare cases.1043 After each lesson Yamaguchi would simply say that it was
good, which in many cases was an overstatement of the student’s ability.
Each piece was taught over a one-month period, i.e., four lessons. The first three lessons
comprised a third each of the piece, and during the fourth lesson, the student would play the
piece through, from the beginning to the end, first together with the sub-teacher, and then
once more with Yamaguchi. During the fourth lesson, Yamaguchi would not sing the
notation or clap the rhythm, but just play the piece together with the student. Each piece was
taught only once, but when a student had learned a certain, unspecified number of pieces, it
was possible to bring a piece that s/he had previously learned. In those cases, the lesson
consisted of playing through the piece, in the same way as lesson four when the piece was
taught. This suggests that Yamaguchi’s notion of ‘teaching’ a piece consisted of singing the
notation and clapping the rhythm.
At times when Yamaguchi was not satisfied with the student’s playing, he would stop
playing and ask the student to play a certain section one more time. Then Yamaguchi would
sing that part, and if he was satisfied, the playing would continue. In rare cases, if this
repetition did not do the work, he would comment on a technique or rhythmical aspect.
The fourth lesson was referred to as age-geiko, which means ‘lesson of reception.’ At the
end of the fourth lesson, if the student’s playing of the piece was to Yamaguchi’s content,
he would end the lesson by saying that the student was given the piece, i.e., the piece was
thereby transmitted, but also that the student should “polish it off.” The reception of a piece
was not the end of the learning process, rather the beginning of an even longer process of
internalizing the piece. This aspect is even stressed in the licence that is finally given to the
student, when finishing the basics and becoming a shihan, a master of the art. In the shihan
licence the receiver is again admonished to polish his work.
Based on this short description of lessons with Yamaguchi, I find two separate but linked
contexts of the Transmission-type of Enactment to be of main interest: internal and external
contexts.
1043
I can remember only three occasions when I received a word from Yamaguchi: once when my playing was not
up to par, and I had to do the same part again at my next lessons, and twice I was told that my sound had changed,
presumably to the better, but that was not clearly stated.
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1044
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, 39.
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***
By applying these aspects to convey the prescriptive elements in the act of transmission,
the transmitter can more easily transmit his or her intentions, i.e., give clear indications of
the prescriptive ‘marks’ in the final sonorous product. For example, in transmitting a certain
ornament that is not notated in the score, there would be a logical relation between elements
of type (A), (B), (C), and (D): the transmitter, Yamaguchi, would explain the ornament, the
student, or Yamaguchi himself, would write the ornament in the score, thus using element
(A). To write down the change in structure would be an aid for the student to reach a higher
level of understanding of similar phrases in other pieces, thus, supporting elements of type
(B). During the lesson, Yamaguchi would make more evident aural and visible indications
of this ornament with his voice and fingers, i.e., elements of type (C) and (D). During a
subsequent lesson, if and when the student had learned this pattern, the same would not
necessarily occur, except for element type (C): the singing (shōga) would always
correspond to the actual sound, even if they are not always accompanied by the visual
elements of type (D).
That means that the logical connection between the elements (A) to (F) is part of the
internal context for an individual at a certain point in his or her learning process. In a similar
way, the transmitter may exclude a visible element if it is clearly beyond the comprehension
of the student, even if the same aspect of the music is included in elements of type (C): the
transmitter might sing an ornament, but avoid making it clearly visible to the student, not
because it is understood, but on the contrary, because this ornament is not yet conceivable
for the student.
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1045
Blasdel, The Single Tone: A Personal Journey into Shakuhachi Music, 2008, 17, 21.
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insulated, and the sound is clearly audible through the thin walls. When there are no other
students in the preparation room playing with the sub-teacher, the sound of the transmitter,
here Yamaguchi Gorō, would be part of the external context for S3 in the illustration.
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St
S2
S3
1046
Francis Hsu, Iemoto: The Heart of Japan, 1975, 63.
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Motifs:
Linder oto (音) onku (音句) onkei (音型) kyokusetsu (曲節) gakusō (楽想)
Passages:
1049
Tsukitani oto (音) onku (音句) gakku (楽句)
onkei (音型)
Phrases, which Tsukitani refers to as onkei (or onku) and I call kyokusetsu, are structural
– and ontologically of course important – aspects of a piece. As Tsukitani states, the phrases
are the smallest musical units, but I argue that it is possible to analyze these units at the
level of idiomatic expressiveness and as reoccurring patterns, in my terminology at the level
of ‘sound idioms/onku’ and ‘sound patterns/onkei.’ The ‘sound idioms/onku’ are, as
mentioned, not independently meaningful musical units, but purely units on the level of
analysis. Phrases, ideally but not necessarily played in one breath, constitute the smallest
musically meaningful units, but they consist of one or several ‘sound patterns/onkei,’ which
in turn normally would consist of one or more ‘sound idioms/onku.’ To give one simple
example of this, we can again look at Plate 30. The shakuhachi covers normally a little more
than two octaves, the low register, the high register, and the extra high register (which is not
a complete octave). Supposing that the phrase is played in the higher of the two complete
tonal registers (octaves), the first tone (tsu) can be given an ornament commencing in the
lower register (octave). An attack can be added to give the sound more accentuation.
Normally a bend of the tone is inserted between the first and the second tone (between the
tsu and the ro), but the timing and the actual change of the pitch can vary. An attack can
1047
Tsukitani uses the Japanese words 音句 for ‘sound phrase’ (onku), and 音型 for ‘sound pattern’ (onkei).
1048
The words I suggest here are 曲節 for ‘phrase’ (kyokusetsu), 音型 for ‘sound pattern’ (onkei), and 音句 for ‘sound
idiom’ (onku). The word fushi (節) is commonly used in other indigenous music forms to denote approximately a
phrase. Thus, I find a word that is related to this term, i.e., kyokusetsu, to be better than the words gakku (楽句) or
gakusetsu (楽節), which are Japanese translations of the corresponding terms ‘phrase’ and ‘passage’ in Western
music theory.
1049
Tsukitani, Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 2000, pp. 128, 133–136, 145–148.
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also be added when arriving on the second tone, the ro. Whether these ornaments are added
or not is part of the idiomatic expressiveness on behalf of the individual performer/
transmitter: they are what I would call ‘sound idioms/onku.’ It is technically significant if
one is told, for example, to add an attack; but the attack has no musical significance on its
own. In a phrase it becomes musically significant. My notion of ‘sound patterns/onkei’
builds on the fact that sometimes the same ‘sound idioms/onku’ are used in various ‘sound
patterns/onkei.’ For example, the whole cluster of sounds from the initial tone, tsu, to the
second tone, ro, can be viewed as a ‘sound pattern/onkei.’ A phrase can consist of just these
two tones, without the repetition (nayashi) in Plate 30. The sound developing from the tsu to
the ro can be learned as a pattern, used in different phrases. Still, different phrases of a
similar pattern, tsu – ro, may include different ‘sound idioms/onku,’ e.g., the initial attack
on the first tone tsu may be excluded.
The most important and the most difficult aspects of the music and its transmission are
not conducted on the ‘visible’ level, but rather within the idiomatic expressions applied
inside various patterns by individual transmitters. This level of understanding does include a
considerable amount of creative work on behalf of the receiver. The ‘sound idioms/onku’
within the ‘sound patterns/onkei’ that are not always notated, their possible omission, the
timing of adding the ornaments, and so on, are all part of the mixture of the audial, visual,
and to some extent kinesic elements of the learning process.
From this viewpoint, kata – as structural elements – are more or less equivalent to
‘phrases’ or ‘sound patterns.’ On the other hand, I argue that Nishiyama’s notion of
intangible prescriptive elements extends to the level of ‘sound idioms/onku.’ The difference,
however, seems to be that the individual aspects are emphasized if we talk of ‘sound
idioms/onku’ as an individual transmitter’s idiosyncratic or idiomatic expressiveness. I
would argue that changes within the music will most often appear firstly as changes on the
level of ‘sound idioms/onku,’ and in some cases, maybe later they are indicated in the
notated structural patterns, or they reach a level of tacit knowledge and understanding
among the practitioners: by no means all ornaments and techniques are notated, but they are
still performed.
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popular art forms dates from 1757; in the first half of the nineteenth century there is a record
of thirty-one iemoto in the same number of genres of popular arts.1050 This development was
delayed within the shakuhachi world until the beginning of the Meiji period, partly due to
the fact that the shakuhachi was controlled within the framework of the Fuke sect. Even
though the shakuhachi became popular among townspeople in the major cities, these
activities were not overtly acknowledged.
The “Kaidō honsoku” of 1628 mentions sixteen branches, and even though neither
Kinko-ryū nor Ikkan-ryū were firmly established schools, there were probably a number of
divergent playing techniques in use during the Edo period among practitioners, i.e., the
komusō. Therefore, we cannot really define one single shakuhachi tradition during the Edo
period. The considerable changes during the first decades of the Meiji period, however, led
to the establishment of numerous schools and lineages. Kamisangō comments that the scope
of this development engendered a situation where “we can say that there were as many
lineages as there were shakuhachi performers.” 1051 Even if licences were handed out
individually from the three main temples during the Edo period, it was one tradition only in
respect of the fact that there was one administrative and governing body, the Fuke sect. The
development of an iemoto system, thus, did not occur until the Meiji period. My analysis
demonstrates that the dispersion of the shakuhachi honkyoku during the Meiji period, and up
to modern times, indicates the establishment of a very large number of ‘sub-traditions,’
invented for the benefit of each individual lineage, and that the transmission activities
conducted are aligned according to the idiosyncracies of each iemoto, both in regard to the
origin of that lineage, and in regard to its sonorous content.
The folklore scholar Roger Abrahams, whom I discuss above, refers to Enactments as,
“any cultural event in which community members come together to participate, employ the
deepest and most complex multivocal and polyvalent signs and symbols of their repertoire
of expression thus entering into a potentially significant experience.”1052 He writes about
different ontological realms such as ‘pure performance’ and ‘pure festivity,’1053 depending
on the social context of the enactment. The social context is dependent on the attitude,
expectations, and ability of the participants. A ‘pure performance’ differs from a ‘pure
transmission’ with regard to the expected outcome of the enactment, both from the
standpoint of the transmitter and of the participant, an audience or a student, their attitudes
towards the material and the situation. I argue that Abrahams’s Enactments are, in several
ways, similar to the social context that develops within a school, lineage or guild, i.e.,
within the social framework of one iemoto; a tradition develops within this framework, for
aesthetic, social, and socio-economical reasons. Whatever standard is set, as regards the
repertoire, the correct way of performing, the historical background, and so on, this standard
becomes the fundament of the lineage; it becomes a tradition, invented and protected by the
iemoto of that lineage. Any interpretation of the tradition, its music, and performance
techniques, i.e., the Esthesic Dimension, must be in accordance with the standards set out by
and through the prescribed rules, i.e., the Poietic Processes on behalf of the iemoto, in order
1050
Nishiyama, Iemoto no kenkyū (1959), 1982, 7–14.
1051
Kamisangō, “Shakuhachi-gaku no ryakushi: ...” (1974), 1995, 112.
1052
Roger Abrahams, “Toward an Enactment-Centered Theory of Folklore,” 1977, 80.
1053
Ibid., 102.
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to be potentially significant experiences. These rules are visible in the Neutral Traces: the
writings, the notation, and the actual performances and transmission activities conducted
within the lineage.
It is not uncommon that a single learner would like to study another style. To do this, the
consent of the iemoto is normally required. To go behind the back of one’s master may
result in exclusion from the school, and in the worst case, a blacklisting. It is, however,
uncommon to hold a position within two separate schools at the same time. The
master-disciple relation is normally a relationship that builds on mutual responsibility and
duty: the master supports and protects the disciple, and the disciple fulfils his or her
responsibility of faithful service to his or her master.1054 This leads to a certain amount of
inertia in the system. New approaches, changes of modes of expression, and so forth, will
take on a comparatively slow pace.
Music that was composed before the Meiji period (here I refer to shakuhachi honkyoku)
consists of a limited number of fixed forms, clusters of sounds or ‘sound phrases’ to use the
terminology of Tsukitani. These patterns constitute the structure of a specific piece, and as
such they do, to a certain extent, contain prescriptive elements. Still, even within one
lineage, e.g., the Kinko-ryū, a person who is acquainted with the tradition would, in most
cases, be able to tell to which guild within the Kinko-ryū a certain performer belongs. This
indicates that the prescriptive elements of ‘how-to’ are determined by the transmission
process that the performer has undergone.
There are, however, some aspects of the learning/transmission process that are under
present and rapid change, namely the aspect of modernity in transmission. I believe that
there are two aspects of modern times that are directly related to transmission: Virtual
Context and Time Efficiency.
Virtual Context
Modern technical equipment is becoming more and more commonly used, and several
transmitters also produce their own material, presumably in order to supply a ‘correct’
understanding of the prescriptive forms.
The most comprehensive honkyoku learning material within the Kinko-ryū is to my
knowledge Yamaguchi Gorō, kinko-ryū shakuhachi honkyoku shinan (Yamaguchi Gorō,
Manual of Kinko-ryū Shakuhachi Honkyoku),1055 which contains a set of CD’s, two videos,
written explanations of some of the more complicated phrases in the pieces, and musical
notation. In the audio recordings Yamaguchi explains some of the difficult phrases or
patterns in the piece (or a couple of lines at a time), then he sings the notation while one of
his top students plays. After each piece, there is a “model performance” of the piece, played
by Yamguchi Gorō himself. In the two videos (each approx. 30 minutes), Yamaguchi
explains and shows how to play some central phrases. The notation is given on the screen,
with colouring as the phrase proceeds, and the fingers, lips, etc., are shot from different
angles shown in split screen. The written explanations contain basically the same material
1054
Hsu, Iemoto: The Heart of Japan, 1975, p. 64. As a comparison, there are non-Japanese practitioners of
shakuhachi who hold master licenses from teachers of different lineages. To my knowledge this is not a common
practice in Japan, and Hsu’s description would be the normal case.
1055
Yamaguchi Gorō, Yamaguchi Gorō, kinko-ryū shakuhachi honkyoku shinan, 1991.
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as the audio and the video material. The material is of course very comprehensive, and of
great help for those who are not able to take lessons directly. I would, however, argue that it
creates a fixed form: the prescriptive elements are easily accessible, and easily confirmed by
watching and listening to the material.
Other recordings also help to create a perspective of correct interpretation that is not
aligned with change or diffusion: anyone can at any time confirm how a certain part of a
piece should be played, by listening to a CD. I argue that this may lead to a more rigid way
of interpreting the music, and especially so a more rigid interpretation of the art of the
departed great masters. The recordings constitute a standard, an audio canon, against which
all succeeding practitioners are evaluated. It is as if the iemoto never disappeared or never
changed: a virtual omnipresent iemoto.
Time efficiency
The issue of time efficiency is, I think, related to the issue of virtual context. There is, I
believe, a tendency in Japan to move away from the idea of having ‘lesson days,’ and
instead the students will make appointments with their teachers. This may of course be due
to an increasingly busy society, but I do not believe that this is the sole reason; additionally,
the available material makes it possible for a learner to prepare lessons in a way that was not
possible not so long ago. This can be compared to the teaching of the gaikyoku repertoire up
until the former half of the twentieth century. At this time, there was no standard notation
for the shakuhachi part of the ensemble pieces. The teacher would write approximately three
lines worth of music during each lesson, and the student would come for more frequent
lessons than is the case today. Since the part to be taught during the lesson was written and
given to the student during the lesson, there was no way for the learner to prepare the
lesson.1056
Of course, the idea of having twenty minutes with your teacher may sound inefficient in a
cost-time ratio, compared to the normal one-hour lessons conducted more frequently today.
On the other hand, in the act of transmission that I discuss above, the actual ‘contact-time’
can be much more than an hour, eventhough it may not feel as efficient as a one-hour lesson,
since the external context takes precedence over the internal context. Thus, the time
efficiency relates to the notion of virtual context, i.e., the possibility of being in touch with
the teacher through the means of pedagogic self-study material. In this way, I believe that
there is a shift from external context to virtual context in modern teaching practices.
***
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experience regardless of time passed since their occurrences, I have not found any items in
these kata that go beyond the individual transmitter and his or her Esthesic Processes in
regard to precedent. To adhere to form, the insistence on following precedent, which is an
important factor in the so-called ‘traditional arts,’ is, however, not an essential quality
inherent in these forms. Based on my analysis, I argue that we may regard the insistence on
following precedent, to follow one’s teacher, as a characteristic of the cultural context, not
of the art form itself. Thus, kata is something that we can decide to follow, and in doing so,
we also add a value to this activity.
My analyses of kata, both as a structural unit, and as a kind of prescriptive form, have led
me to the definition of two layers in the actual execution of the music that have not been
explicit in previous studies of shakuhachi honkyoku. Tsukitani refers to phrases or patterns
(onku/onkei), as constituting the “smallest melodic units.” I argue that the phrases, which I
call kyokusetsu, can be further divided in the individual idiosyncrasies on the level of ‘sound
idioms/onku,’ and a single or a cluster of such ‘sound idioms/onku’ that constitute ‘sound
patterns/onkei,’ as indicated in Figure 11 above (Section 8.3.6).
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
In the previous chapters I have made concluding remarks and discussions. Here I
summarize the central issues and findings of my analyses, and proceed to a discussion of
more general implications of these findings.
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Chapter 9 – Summary & Implications
acknowledges phrases that contain a breath, i.e., a pause in the music, she does not carry
that possibility further to indicate smaller units than the phrase, which she refers to as the
smallest melodic units.
9.2.1 Tradition
The concept of ‘tradition’ is complex. Everything in a cultural context has an origin; it is not
that we create things from out of the blue, but rather make additions and changes to an
already existing element. The concept ‘tradition’ has of course a relation to ‘transmittance’;
we can imagine that ‘tradition’ somehow constitutes the creation of the present, by means of
transmission from past occurrences, knowledge, abilities, and the like. To find this line of
transmission from the other side, so to speak, to see the line from present back to the past, is,
I believe, a completely different story. To line up events in the past and say that ‘these are
the reasons for what we have now’ is as difficult as to see into the future. Thus, ‘tradition’
as ‘transmission’ of cultural traits, whether we see it from the past to the future, or from the
present back to the past, does not give us the essential quality of what it was that changed,
unless it is a simple causality: I played this note, and therefore you, as my student, played
the same note. What we do, I believe, is to thrust a present state into the past, and say that:
‘This is how I do it, because this is the way they did it before.’ This is akin to the obscure
references that Morinaga calls Type 3 citations, which have the dynamic force to connect
the present with the past,1057 and I think that they also have an ability to throw a past back to
an imagined even further past. Without first-hand experience of the act of transmission, it
would be very difficult to say that something in the past was this or that. We do not know,
and cannot tell, whether the boro monks transmitted some aspects of cultural traits,
behaviour, clothing, and so forth, to other types of monks. We can only interpret these
matters on a level of probability.
If we regard tradition as a temporal entity, which connects past with present, we would
have to conceive of synchronic states of ‘culture’ as saturated points on a historical timeline.
This may defuse Hobsbawm’s notion of ‘invented tradition’ (cf. Section 1.3.3.1), since
tradition then becomes the very vehicle of transition from ‘then’ to ‘now.’ Based on my
understanding of Hobsbawm’s ideas, I believe that Hobsbawm would argue against this.
One line of argumentation would be that even if we assume that traditions are created from
the past, some traditions are created, not from a past that we can analyse as Traces in the
Neutral Dimension, but from a construed past. A construed past can consist of made-up, not
historically proven ‘facts,’ or as more or less probable connections between past events.
Even within an invented tradition there may be elements with links to a historically proven
Trace in the past. The stake for Hobsbawm is more to disclose the cases of tradition where
1057
Morinaga, Secrecy in Japanese Arts …, 2005, 58.
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the connection to the past is fabricated. Hobsbawm acknowledges the existence of ‘real’
traditions, and the problem lies not in their existence or development. For him, it is the
historical authenticity of traditions, and the intention of linking certain aspects of the past to
their present day activities that are of concern, i.e., how and why tradition is, or can be,
created.
With ‘tradition’ seen as a diachronic transition, it could not comprise any of the more or
less fixed and rigid rules for behaviour or any other constant value with which to comply,
which would be a guide during this transition from one synchronic ‘culture’ to another. If
we regard ‘tradition’ as the dynamic force, the creative processes that provide a new
concretization of our history, ‘tradition’ seems to evaporate at the very moment of
concretization: it would denote a stream of constant change.
The concept of ‘tradition’ is, however, generally not understood as a concept with strong
connotations of fluidity or rapid change, but rather it has strong connotations of
‘authenticity,’ ‘stability,’ and something that is more ‘original’ than the present. It seems
therefore to be more closely connected to the past than to the present or the future. The
sense of stability and oldness in the ‘traditional’ arts of Japan has probably been enhanced
by the iemoto system, which deplores fluidity and exchange, and thereby works against
change. The iemoto system builds on a contract between teacher and learner, master and
disciple, and it is constructed as a hierarchical pyramid. The more students the iemoto has,
and the more people who study under guidance of the iemoto – or his or her disciples – the
more social recognition and economic power the iemoto obtains.1058
As discussed in Section 7.3, the doctrine of a ‘tradition’ is locked within the group, and
can only be challenged and changed by its authoritative head, the iemoto. The early
twentieth-century studies were the first historical studies of the shakuhachi. Mikami
undertook the first critical study of the Fuke sect and the “Keichō okite-gaki”; Kurihara
attempted a comprehensive study of older historical material; Nakatsuka was mainly
concerned with documents relating to the Fuke sect and its temples. In a way they were
pioneers in the field. From that perspective it is rather surprising that the more recent studies
by Kamisangō, Ueno, and Tsukitani do not contain further detailed investigations of the
texts to which they relate, for example the material under study in this thesis. I have
indicated that this may be due to intentional aspects of positioning the origin of the modern
shakuhachi in an earlier indigenous culture. Referring to Section 7.2.1.3, Deeg’s discussion
of a re-spiritualization of the shakuhachi through a reversed import is suggestive.
By inventing an older indigenous tradition, the existing iemoto system is given stability
by authoritative scholastic examinations, in combination with a growing interest in the West
for spiritualism, Zen Buddhism, and the ‘mystical and incomprehensible’ aspects of
Japanese culture. Most of the late twentieth-century studies (the Writings, relating to
secondary sources; cf. 1.6.6), both in Japanese and English, then take on a new meaning: an
intention – in the Poietic Dimension – of preserving a notion of an old, original, unique, and
unchanging shakuhachi tradition. The Writings become the fundament of interpretation,
regardless of whether they are supported by the Texts (relating to primary sources; cf.
1.6.6).
1058
Cf. Hsu, Iemoto: The Heart of Japan, 1975, 63–68.
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9.2.2 Transmission
As mentioned above, in Japan, the possibility of learning and mastering more than one style,
and receiving acknowledgement of this by two separate teachers, is something that is
normally not accepted. A minimum requirement would be to receive the consent by the first
teacher. In Japan I have met people who have been given the consent by their teacher to take
lessons with another teacher of another style, either within a different lineage, or of a
different sub-group than the original teacher. I have also met people who have ‘ended’ the
contract with their iemoto; they have decided to leave the guild. On the other hand, I have
met only one Japanese who has held two master licenses from two different teachers of
different styles at the same time. This would be in violation of the normal understanding of
the conditions under which one enters into a teacher-student relationship: a contract of
mutual duties and responsibilities. In the case that I experienced the ‘doubling’ created a
series of apologies and turmoil in the affected community.
In the strictly hierarchical iemoto system it sometimes happens that a person becomes
unsuitable to be a member of a guild. Receiving acknowledgement from two different
teachers would be one plausible reason for exclusion, but there are several cases of less
obvious transgression. When a person is excluded from a guild it is referred to as ha-mon, a
‘ripped gate,’ which means that the person is excommunicated, and a notice of this is – to
my knowledge, normally – sent to the members of the guild. The notices of this kind that I
have seen have included a paragraph in which it states that the receiver of the notice is also
liable for excommunication if s/he in any way has musical or social interaction with the
person who has been excommunicated.
There have emerged non-Japanese individuals with ‘dual-diplomas,’ i.e., with master
licenses from two different teachers. I can only assume that this must be by consent of both
teachers involved. It is, however, interesting because it is an indication of something new in
the shakuhachi world: it could mean that the notion of ‘tradition’ (stability and continuity) is
transforming into a concept of modernity (change and novelty), and that the authority of any
given iemoto can be challenged in new ways. A Japanese who would be interested in
studying with two different teachers, would probably not ask for a master license. On the
other hand, if the second teacher is aware that the first teacher has not given his or her
consent, the student may very well be rejected in order to maintain the social balance
between the two teachers concerned. I believe that there is yet another possible
interpretation of the emergence of ‘dual-diploma’ students, which relates to (1) what is
being transmitted, and (2) the transmitters’ socio-political situation.
The general idea of the iemoto system is that a student will undergo many years of
training, in order to achieve some kind of proficiency in the art. To ‘double’ is normally not
viewed as a possibility. A ‘doubler’ of non-Japanese descent is, perhaps, not regarded as a
full-fledged member of the tradition, or, that it is impossible for non-Japanese to achieve the
same level of proficiency as a person of Japanese descent. From the socio-political
perspective, a teacher with non-Japanese students creates for him- or herself a new foreign
market. With a student located in a foreign country, it would be possible to gain more
students. With the declining interest in indigenous music among Japanese people, a new
foreign market is of course a possible new source of income. It also provides opportunities
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for tours abroad, which enhances status: to be an ‘exporter’ of an indigenous music culture
is highly valued, and such activities are often included in the CV of the ‘exporter.’
9.2.3 Understanding
The issue (1) above, what is being transmitted, raises questions of what the transmission of
tradition implies in terms of content. This question leads to the implications of the process
of transmission of the (semi-) oral shakuhachi tradition, and the understanding of the
elements that are being transmitted on behalf of the student/receiver of the tradition. As
discussed elsewhere, there are different levels of intention in the creation of art, e.g., the
intentions in the creation during a performance versus the intentions involved in an act of
transmission. There are, I think, also different levels, or layers rather, of experiential depth,
i.e., in Nattiez’s Esthesic Dimension. The aesthetic experience of an everyday listener is
different from the listening conducted by a learner. I will assume that there are different
layers of Esthesic Processes with a relative difference in depth.
Paul Ricoeur discusses two levels of understanding a text: it can be explained and it can
be understood. What Ricoeur refers to when talking about the explanation is a structural
explanation of the text “in terms of internal relations, its structure.”1059 This explanatory part,
or layer, of an analysis is very close to an analysis of the immanent structure of the Neutral
Trace. It may be conducted as part of an analysis, regardless of whether the analyst is a
researcher or a learner of the tradition. I argue that the learner of the tradition is (more or
less) forced to conduct such a structural analysis, in many cases maybe without conscious
deliberations, in order to enable the music to make sense on a structural level. Ricoeur refers
to the lingustic discipline and its structural elements phonemes, morphemes and
semantemes, and also to Lévi-Strauss’s concept of ‘mythemes.’1060 By analogy, on the basis
of my findings, I think that there is enough ground to introduce a new term, which I have
named ‘musemes.’ I believe that it is possible to define the smaller units that are part of the
immanent structure of the music, which I have called ‘sound patterns/onkei’ above (Section
8.3.6), as constituting ‘musemes’ of the music. These units, musemes, can of course be
analysed into smaller units, such as sound idioms/onku, or even down to the level of a single
note, but their meaning as structural units, cannot be divided further. If the single tones are
the general features of any music, the sound idioms/onku – in my definition – constitute the
idiosyncracies of an individual transmitter, the ‘musemes’ are the sound patterns/onkei that
make up larger building blocks and usually relate to a style, and finally, we have the
phrases/kyokusetsu, which carry musical meaning.
By analogy with Paul Ricouer, who writes about phoneme, morpheme, and semanteme in
linguistics, Lévi-Strauss compares ordinary language with music and myth, and finds that in
music there is something he calls ‘tonemes,’ individual tones, which corresponds to
phonemes, but that there is no similar entity in myths. In myth there are words, which are on
1059
Paul Ricoeur, “What Is a Text?” 1991, 51.
1060
Ibid., 53.
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Chapter 9 – Summary & Implications
a higher level than pure sounds, but at this level there is no corresponding unit in music. To
list his views:1061
Figure 12: Comparison between language, music, and myth.
I believe that in music – and foremost in shakuhachi honkyoku music – we could apply
the term ‘musemes’ on the second level for music in the table above. Musemes would thus
approximately correspond to morphemes in language, the words used in the telling of a
myth, and even if the words in a myth are not selected randomly (there is a structure of
word order), they may be intoned and pronounced slightly differently with each telling of
the myth. I believe that the intonation of the words, prolongation of vowels for the sake of
dramatic effect, etc., are highly individual aspects, and I think it would be possible to argue
that this level roughly corresponds to, not the tones, but the ‘sound idioms/onku’ in my
analysis. We could then change the table above (Figure 12) in the following way:
According to Ricoeur, a phoneme is not a physical sound, but rather a function that is
defined in relation to other phonemes: it is not substance but form, an interplay of
relationships. In the same way, a mytheme is not a sentence in a myth, but a value that is
shared by several sentences.1062 The meaning of a myth is not conveyed by the sequence of
events in the myth, but rather by “bundles of events” within one single myth. 1063 My
understanding of Lévi-Strauss is that the mythemes may also be related to each other in
different myths in what would then be ‘bundles of relations.’ The same would be true also
for (shakuhachi) music; the ‘sound idioms/onku,’ the musemes, and the ‘phrases/kyokusetsu’
should be regarded as having ‘functions’ with a multiplicity of relations to other sound
idioms, which in turn are in inter-relationships with other sound idioms, musemes, and
phrases. Regarding the terms used here as ‘functions’ rather than physical entities, I will
make a final suggestion of terminology, in order not to confuse these words with any
1061
Claude Lévi-Strauss, Myth and Meaning, 1980, 45, 51–53.
1062
Ricoeur, “What Is a Text?”, 1991, 53.
1063
Lévi-Strauss, Myth and Meaning, 1980, 45.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
normal usage of similar words: the physical entities, the sounds we hear in various
combinations, should be differentiated from the function they have in the piece as a whole.
Thus, we should perceive musemes as possible relations: musemes are defined in relation to
their functionality. In the same manner, individual expressions (sound idioms) should be
separated from their functionality in relation to other ‘sound idioms/onku.’ The ‘sound
idioms/onku’ are the sounds we hear, but what I will call ‘idiomemes’ describe the
functionality of these sounds; the phrases are the structural elements we hear when we listen
to a piece, but what I will call ‘phrasemes’ describe the functionality of these phrases.
Figure 14: Terminology for functionality of the analyzed entities.
The other part of the analytical experience is the ‘reading’ of the music as a text. Ricoeur
refers to music even in reading a text. He states that “[r]eading is like the execution of a
musical score: it marks the realization, the enactment, of the semantic possibilities of the
text.”1064 For Ricoeur, the interpretative part of the analysis would be an appropriation of
self to the musical text. Ricoeur comments that by ‘appropriation’ he understands that “the
interpretation of a text culminates in the self-interpretation of a subject who thenceforth
understands himself better, understands himself differently, or simply begins to understand
himself.” 1065 The appropriation is also a ‘concrete reflection’ that for Ricoeur has the
meaning of a correlative between hermeneutics and reflective philosophy. From my
discussion of the Poietic and Esthesic Levels, I believe that a rephrasing of Ricoeur in those
terms would be that Ricoeur’s ‘appropriation’ constitutes the transition from the Esthesic
Level to the Poietic Level, on behalf of the learner, as discussed in Sections 8.3.4 and 8.3.5.
I also firmly believe that, whether conscious or not, an understanding of the music on the
level of idiosyncracies and style-related patterns, ‘idiomemes,’ ‘musemes,’ and ‘phrasemes,’
is necessary to achieve a deeper appreciation of the music.
I will give one short example of how I believe that the elements above could be
employed in an analysis of the music. Koizumi Fumio analyzed folk songs of Japan in order
to find a rhythmical pattern. He did not believe that the rhythm in the folk songs had any
relationship with Western strong and weak beats, but rather that each phrase is dividable in
three elements: pronunciation, extension, and concluding ornamentation in the form of
melisma (one syllable is sung while moving between different successive tones). Each
phrase, concluded Koizumi, would not necessarily have the same time value. The question
than arises what elements decide the rhythm pattern. Koizumi’s solution was that the
1064
Ricoeur, “What Is a Text?”, 1991, 58.
1065
Ibid., 57.
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Chapter 9 – Summary & Implications
extension of the tone and the melisma are determined by the pronunciation, but that there is
no need for a uniform time measure. Each phrase determines its own rhythm.1066 Even
though shakuhachi honkyoku is instrumental music, I believe that there are similarities. The
pattern or patterns that are contained in one phrase – its musemes – relate to the idiomatic
expression given each tone – the idiomemes. Especially the initial tone, its idiomatic
expression by an individual performer/transmitter, is crucial to the development of the rest
of the phrase, both in time and dynamics. The basic pattern is pre-existing, but it is given
various realizations by and through the idiomemes, which in turn are related to the totality
of the phrase. Instead of regarding the phrase (or pattern) as a fixed kata, I am convinced
that this type of structural analysis will give a different understanding of the complexity of
each single phrase.
1066
Koizumi, Nihon no oto (1977), 1996, 19–21, 330–333.
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Deconstructing Tradition in Japanese Music
that there is no such thing as ‘free rhythm’ if this is understood as ‘played at will.’ It would
be exciting to further explore what Koizumi’s above-mentioned remarks on rhythm is
hinting at, and relate this to my classification above in Figure 14. I hope that these concepts
can prove fruitful not only in an analysis of music with roots in pre-Meiji-period Japan, but
also in an investigation of, for example, Japanese popular music, to see whether the
concepts are applicable to other music forms, or art forms, as well.
The findings in relation to the historical authenticity and the invention of tradition,
especially the ease with which a tradition is invented, imply several aspects that may need
more thorough investigation, not only within the shakuhachi tradition, but also within other
‘traditional’ art forms with a long history. As mentioned in Chapter 1, ‘traditional’ has a
wide field of denotations in Japan. There are many ‘traditional’ arts, and by adding
‘traditional’ some uniquely Japanese feature is often implied. With the strong influx of
Western music during the early days of the Meiji period, and the gradual turnover to
Western music in the mandatory education curriculum, the view of performers of
Edo-period music in the 1920s oriented itself towards a re-evaluation of the indigenous
music culture. In 1921, a magazine called Sankyoku was established, 1067 with the
shakuhachi performer Fujita Shun’ichi, better known under his shakuhachi name Fujita
Reirō, as one of the central figures. In the first issue, a colleague of Fujita, the sangen
musician Nakajima Toshiyuki, writes about the value of sankyoku as a music culture. He
comments on the influence of Western culture on the Japanese society and its people.
In the past, during the close to fifty year long Meiji period, all kinds of things drowned in
the Western culture, and it feels as if we still haven’t had enough days to assimilate to it.
People all over the country have been busy running about trying to accommodate to the
trend of foreign thought, neglecting the treasures in our own house. In this treasure house
many things have been put in, things that have always been caressed and believed in by
our ancestors, things that express their ideas and sentiments, their taste and customs. Of
course, our own music [hōgaku] is one of them, and here I would like to bring out and
introduce jiuta, or sankyoku as it also is called. 1068
The tension between ‘Western’ and ‘non-Western’ that seems to be the ground for this
statement must have called for some dichotomy, and we find the term hōgaku, denoting
‘(our) national music,’ i.e., the indigenous music in contrast to other music, e.g., Western
music, yōgaku, or otherwise implicitly stated ethnic music, e.g., traditional Chinese music,
modern Chinese music, and the like.1069
The idea of a Westernized music culture, as expressed by Nakajima above, still echoes in
Japan. One of the pioneers in teaching ‘traditional’ Japanese music in the mandatory school
education is Chihara Yoshio, whose endeavors are related by the ethnomusicologist Joanna
T. Pecore. In an interview with Pecore, Chihara is reported to have said that the Japanese
people of today are only Japanese “from the neck down,” and that they live their lives as
1067
The word sankyoku (三曲) refers to the practice of playing with three instruments: koto (箏), shamisen (三味線),
and shakuhachi (or the kokyū, 胡弓). Fujita Shunichi (Reirō) (藤田俊一 (鈴朗), 1883–1974).
1068
Nakashima Toshiyuki, “Sankyoku no kachi wa izure ni ariya?” 1921, 11. (過去半世紀に垂んとする明治年代は、百般
の事物、欧米の文化に沈溺し其の模倣に日尚ほ足らざるの感があったのである、全国民は外来思潮の応接に奔走して我が家の宝庫
を閑却して居ったのである、此の宝庫には我等祖先の思想や情趣、好尚や風俗披瀝し常に愛撫され信仰されたものが沢山にいれら
れてあるのである、勿論邦楽も其の一つであるが、私は茲に地歌、所謂三曲なるものを取り出して御招待致したい、).
1069
hōgaku (邦楽); yōgaku (洋楽); traditional Chinese music (中国の伝統音楽); modern Chinese music (中国の現代音楽).
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Chapter 9 – Summary & Implications
Japanese, “but their thinking patterns have been invaded by Western logic and cultural
values.”1070 Any culture that is in contact with different value systems is apt to change, and
the notion of the Japanese people being ‘divided in two’ is somewhat curios: even if we
regard it as an invasion of Western ideas, it is not a forced invasion but rather a ‘wished-for’
invasion. However, for whatever reason, I think that we now see a renaissance of
pre-Meiji-period art forms in Japan, both as performing art and as a subject of academic
study, which is qualitatively different than the renaissance during the nationalistic fever in
the early Shōwa period, and different from the building of a national identity during the
Meiji period.
As should be apparent from the present study, I find the word ‘traditional’ to be too
value-laden, implying notions of something that is connected to a more true ‘origin,’ or
being more ‘authentic.’ In some cases I believe that the words ‘tradition’ or ‘traditional’ are
used intentionally, to evoke such connotations. This said, there are several areas to be
further explored and enjoyed within the fabulous and aesthetically stimulating ‘traditional’
arts that exist in Japan. To avoid the confusion to which a notion of essential values may
give rise, it might be advisable to refer to these art forms as those that are performed in
alignment with what we believe to be ‘pre-Meiji-period practices.’
1070
Joanna T. Pecore “Bridging Contexts, Transforming Music,” 2000, 130. (The interview took place in 1993).
287
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306
Index
central authorities (bakufu), 58, 99, 112–13, Foucault, Michel, 35–36, 230–31.
115–16, 119–21, 123, 125, 129–30, 148, 152, 212, Fuke:
228, 230, 235.
monks, 155, 186, 202, 204, 216, 223, 229, 240.
Chikuho-ryū, 77, 236, 240, 256. (See also komusō).
communication (artistic, acts of, musical), 44–47, historical person, 15, 21, 58, 74, 76–77, 102,
67–68, 243, 260. 104, 106–7, 112, 130, 136, 139–41, 146,
149–52, 202, 204–25, 208, 213–14, 216–17,
communicative events, 44–47.
219, 221–24, 230–31.
307
Fuke (cont’d) Ichigetsu-ji (temple), 114–16, 118, 125, 129, 149,
233, 239.
sect, 21–23, 45, 58, 72–73, 76–77, 79, 92, 96,
98–99, 102–4, 111–16, 121–22, 124–25, 128, Ichirosō, 222–23.
130, 135, 149, 161, 171–72, 186, 208, 213,
idiomeme, 284–85.
224, 233, 235, 241–42, 274, 280.
Iei Michiko, 169–71, 174–75.
temples (see komusō temples).
Ikkyū Sōjun, 58, 74, 91, 93, 112, 135–41, 143–44,
fuke shakuhachi (instrument), 83, 85, 92–93, 95,
146, 151, 162, 205, 208, 210–11, 216, 219–24,
99, 102, 127, 141, 213, 217, 240, 243.
230–31. (See also Kyōun-shū).
Fukuda Randō, 246.
invented tradition, 37–38, 43, 103, 111, 131, 187,
231, 279.
gagaku, 21, 24, 28–29, 45, 52, 72, 74, 83, 86–89, Isshi Oshō (also the document of 1598), 102,
96–98, 135, 142–43, 168, 218–19, 226–28, 234, 148–49, 151, 211, 216, 236.
239, 250.
gagaku shakuhachi (instrument), 72, 83, 85–87,
jiuta-sōkyoku, 21, 30, 34, 72, 75, 239–40, 285.
89–91, 93, 143.
(See also koto, shamisen, and sankyoku).
gaikyoku, 21–22, 98, 126, 234, 236, 238–39,
Jin Nyodō, 238, 245.
241–42, 260, 276. (See also sankyoku).
Gakushin (see Hottō Kokushi).
“Kaidō honsoku,” 124, 149–50, 151–52, 211, 213,
Genji monogatari, 30, 45, 96–97, 143.
217, 237, 274.
Georges, Robert A., 46–48, 53–55, 232, 243, 248,
Kakushin (see Hottō Kokushi).
254, 260, 263.
Kamisangō Yūkō, 58, 73–74, 76–77, 79, 82–83,
87–91, 93–95, 97–98, 102, 104, 110–11, 113,
Hayashi Razan (Dōshun), 73–74, 82, 135, 146–49, 124–25, 130, 143–44, 172–73, 193, 195, 198,
151, 161, 176–77, 184, 211–15, 217, 222, 230. 200–1, 214, 217–20, 222, 225, 228, 233–36, 240,
hearsay (see dynamic hearsay). 244–45, 247, 274, 280.
kan-ji, 109, 155–156, 172, 177, 184. (See also
Higuchi Taizan (Taizan-ha), 236, 240, 244–45,
boro, bon-ji, boron-ji).
254, 262.
Hisamatsu Fūyō, 73, 84, 129, 234, 237–38, 242, kata, 24, 51, 56–58, 71, 135, 232, 248–55, 263,
273, 276–78, 285.
244, 247, 256.
Kawase Junsuke I, 75, 238, 248, 256.
hitoyogiri shakuhachi (instrument), 72, 83, 85–86,
89, 91–95, 109, 121, 126, 143, 146, 159, 168, 203, —— Junsuke III, 245–46, 256.
213, 218–20, 222, 229. “Keichō okite-gaki,” 58, 73, 76, 113–19, 121–123,
128–30, 149–50, 213, 237–38, 280.
Hobsbawm, Eric, 37–39, 43–44, 53, 254, 279–80.
honkyoku (genre, generic for all styles), 21–23, 34, Kikkawa Eishi, 26, 28, 57, 72, 89, 224, 239,
69–70, 78–79, 98, 126, 130, 235–46, 249, 251, 248–51, 253–55.
256, 268, 273–75, 277–78, 283, 285. Kinko-techō, 73, 116, 119–20, 172, 233–34, 244,
259.
honsoku, 106, 121, 124–25, 127–30, 150.
Hosaka Hirooki, 143, 184, 203–4, 208, 215–17, Kinko-ryū, 22–23, 43, 59, 69–70, 73, 75–76, 79,
124–25, 218, 232–40, 242–47, 250–51, 253,
230.
256–57, 260, 262, 268, 273, 275.
hotchiku, 225.
Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan, 56, 58, 77, 88, 98,
Hottō Kokushi (including Gakushin, Kakushin), 103–4, 107, 109, 111–12, 119, 124, 126–27,
76–77, 92, 104–5, 109–11, 126, 149, 152, 205, 149–50, 160–61, 171, 183, 198–99, 212, 219,
213, 230–32. 221–23, 226–29, 238, 243. (See also Nakatsuka
Hsu, Francis L. K., 49, 271, 275, 280. Chikuzen).
308
Kiyūshōran, 75, 95, 161, 170–71, 176–79, 183–84, Memorandum of 1677, 73, 111–13, 120, 123–24,
195–96, 202, 208. 126, 151,
Kodō I (see Toyoda); other Kodō (see Araki). Mikami Sanji, 76–79, 102, 114–15, 117, 120,
122–23, 152, 280.
Kokin waka-shū, 166–67.
Miura Kindō, 70, 234–35, 238, 248, 256.
Koma no Asakuzu (see Zoku Kyōkun-shō).
Mizuno Kōmei, 260.
Koma no Chikazane (see Kyōkun-shō).
Molino, Jean, 57, 60, 65–68, 268.
komosō, 24, 80, 92–93, 95–96, 110, 113, 127, 135,
138–39, 144, 146–52, 154–157, 160–62, 169, morpheme, 282–83.
172–73, 176–77, 183–84, 186–97, 199–219,
mora (morae), xv, xvi, 157, 162, 190, 204, 219.
222–23, 230–31, 278.
Morinaga, Maki Isaka, 49–50, 103, 131–33, 135,
komusō, 21, 23–24, 34, 57–58, 69–70, 73–74,
152, 230, 263, 279.
76–80, 85, 91–93, 95, 98–99, 102–4, 106, 108–30,
135–36, 138, 141–44, 146, 148–52, 154–55, 157, Mujū Ichien (see Shaseki-shū).
161–62, 168–69, 172–73, 175–77, 184, 186–87,
museme, 282–85.
200–5, 208–11, 213–19, 221–25, 230–40, 242–44,
246–47, 274, 278. Myōan-ji (temple), 23, 110, 124–25, 127, 129,
149, 225, 233, 236, 238–39, 243, 245.
komusō temples (see also Ichigetsu-ji, Myōan-ji,
and Reihō-ji), 58, 112, 118, 120, 230, 233, 236. Myōan Kyōkai, 22–23, 124, 225, 236.
Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi, 141, 162, Myōan-ryū (style), 23, 124, 236, 244–46, 273.
169–170, 173–175, 179, 187, 198, 201–202, 223. Myōe Shōnin (see Boro-boro no sōshi).
(See also Takeda Kyōson).
mytheme, 282–83.
koto (instrument), 29, 45, 72, 75, 99, 126, 238–40,
286. (See also jiuta-sōkyoku).
Kristeller, Paul Oskar, 40–41. Nakamura Sōsan, 72, 104, 108, 126, 213. (See
also Shichiku shoshin-shū).
Kurihara Kōta, 75–80, 93, 102, 106, 119, 152, 182,
195, 198, 201–2, 213, 229, 242, 280. (See also Nakatsuka Chikuzen, 56, 76–79, 93, 102, 104,
Shakuhachi shikan). 106, 110–11, 113, 151–52, 182, 184, 195, 211,
213, 217, 220, 241–42, 244, 280. (See also
Kurosawa Kinko I, 73, 116, 124–25, 233, 244, Kinko-ryū shakuhachi shikan).
248, 253, 256, 262.
—— Kinko II, 125, 233, 244, 256, 262. Nattiez, Jean-Jacques, 51, 57, 60–70, 210–12, 215,
—— Kinko III, 73, 116, 125. 233–34, 237, 244, 248, 263, 278, 282.
256, 259, 262. (See also Kinko-techō). neutral (dimension, level, trace), 47, 51–52, 57, 60,
—— Kinko IV, 73, 244. 62, 65–67, 70–71, 210–12, 215, 219, 225, 263,
Kyōkun-shō, 74, 83, 86, 142, 227–28. 269, 275, 278–79, 282.
kyokusetsu (see phrase). Nishiyama Matsunosuke, 46, 49–51, 53, 56–57,
59, 79, 103, 114, 125–28, 234–35, 243, 248–49,
“Kyotaku denki,” 73, 76–77, 102–6, 109–11, 119, 251–55, 259–60, 263, 273–74, 276, 278.
139, 223.
Nō, 21, 26, 29, 45, 50, 52, 127, 131–132, 134–35,
Kyotaku denki kokuji-kai, 52, 72–73, 76, 78, 92, 142–43, 145, 203, 234, 250–51, 263.
102–9, 119, 123–24, 129–30, 171, 213.
oboe-gaki of 1677 (see Memorandum of 1677).
Kyōun-shū, 136, 139–40. (See also Ikkyū).
onkei (see phrase).
onku (see phrase).
Lee, Riley K., 56–57, 79, 86, 90, 130, 195, 200,
214–15, 227–28, 233, 236–37, 245–46, 256,
258–59. Peirce, Charles Sanders, 60, 64.
Linder, Gunnar, 22, 260, 272, 276. performance-type (see enactments).
Lu Cai (J. Rosai), 15, 82–83, 86, 88, 213, 227. phoneme, 282–83.
Man’yō-shū, 165–67, 172.
309
phrase: Shichijūichi-ban Shokunin uta-awase (also
musical phrase and kyokusetsu, 22, 233, 235, 32-ban), 80, 95, 144, 154–62, 167–69, 171–72,
249–50, 257–58, 267, 271–72, 275, 282–85. 176–77, 186–87, 189, 195, 205–6, 209, 211–12,
sound phrase (Tsukitani’s onkei and onku), 215, 218.
250–51, 255, 271–72, 275, 277–79.
Shichiku shoshin-shū, 84, 91–92, 94–95, 104, 109,
onkei/sound pattern (author’s definition),
126, 209, 213, 238.
257, 272–73, 277, 284–85.
onku/sound idiom (author’s definition), Shils, Edward, 25–26, 36–37, 39–40.
272–73, 277–78, 282–85. (Myōan) Shinpō-ryū, 240, 245.
phraseme, 284–85. Shōtoku Taishi, 15, 53, 87, 98, 142–43, 210,
poietic (dimension, level, process), 22, 24, 47, 57, 218–19, 224–31.
60–62, 65–68, 70–71, 151–52, 210, 212–13, sound idioms (see phrases: onku).
215–18, 223, 225, 228–29, 248, 255, 261, 263–64,
269–70, 274, 278, 280, 284. sound patterns (see phrases: onkei).
stanza, xvi, 107, 139–40, 145, 157, 162–67,
190–91, 195–96, 219–221.
Rakuchū rakugai-zu byōbu, 80, 205–06.
Stecker, Robert, 261.
rankyoku, 98–99, 126, 239.
sui-zen, 77–78, 225.
Reihō-ji (temple), 78, 80, 115–16, 118–19, 125,
129, 148–49, 233, 239.
Ricoeur, Paul, 282–84. Taigen-shō, 45, 74, 86, 89, 91, 93, 97–98, 135,
142–45, 150, 168, 219, 226, 228. (See also
Rōan, 58, 112, 222–23.
Toyohara Sumiaki).
Rosai (see Lu Cai). Takeda Kyōson, 93, 177, 200, 204, 208. (See also
Komusō: Sei to zoku no igyōsha-tachi)
sangaku: genre, 45; Buddhist training, 174. tanka, xvi, 157, 162, 189–90, 192, 194–96, 219,
263.
Sanjūni-ban Shokunin uta-awase (also 32-ban),
80, 93, 95–96, 144, 147, 150, 157–58, 160, 162, tenpuku (instrument), 85–86, 90–91, 93.
169, 187–90, 192, 195, 198–202, 204–9, 211–12, toneme, 282–285.
214–16, 218, 223.
Towazu-gatari, 155–156, 175.
Sankyoku (magazine), 77, 184, 286.
Toyoda Kodō I, 234.
sankyoku (performance style and genre), 34,
239–40, 286. (See also jiuta-sōkyoku and Toyohara Atsuaki, 143.
gaikyoku). Toyohara Kazuaki, 143.
sarugaku (genre), 45, 52, 142, 145, 203–4. Toyohara Sumiaki, 74, 98, 142–43, 203, 226, 228.
Saussure, Ferdinand de, 63–64. (See also Taigen-shō).
semanteme, 282–83. Tozan-ryū, 23, 34, 39, 79, 116, 236.
Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū, 58, 70, 78, tripartition, 57, 60–61, 65, 67–68, 210–212, 215,
109, 112, 125, 127–28, 173, 175, 198, 208, 261–63, 278.
233–34, 236–38, 242, 244–45, 247, 250, 255–56, Tsuge Gen’ichi, 73, 76, 99, 103–4, 106, 108, 110,
266, 272. (See also Tsukitani Tsuneko). 119.
Shakuhachi no rekishi, 74, 78, 83, 90, 112, Tsukitani Tsuneko 57, 76, 78–79, 182, 200, 219,
115–18, 120, 125, 128–29, 149, 161–62, 175–179, 249, 253–54, 271, 275, 277–78, 280, 285. (See
187, 198–99, 201, 204, 213–14, 222–223. (See also Shakuhachi koten honkyoku no kenkyū).
also Ueno Katami).
Tsurezure-gusa, 73, 98, 109, 135, 144, 146–48,
shamisen/sangen (instrument), 21, 29, 45, 72, 75, 151, 155–56, 160–61, 168–69, 171–72, 174,
99, 126, 238–40, 286. (See also jiuta-sōkyoku), 176–78, 182, 184, 205, 212–13, 215, 217–18, 230.
Shaseki-shū, 28, 161, 177–84, 212.
310
Tsurezure-gusa nozuchi, 74, 144, 146–49, 151,
177, 184, 211–14, 217, 230. (See also Hayashi
Razan).
311
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PAPER
Abstract: Acoustical differences between normal and cross fingerings of the shakuhachi with five
tone holes are investigated on the basis of the pressure standing wave along the bore and the input
admittance. Cross fingerings in the shakuhachi often yield pitch sharpening in the second register,
which is contrary to our conventional understanding of pitch flattening by cross fingerings and is called
intonation anomaly. It is essential to identify and discriminate the input admittance spectra between
the upper and lower bores on the basis of the standing-wave patterns. Spectrum (or mode) switching
between both types of bores is a clue to the cause of the intonation anomaly. This is illustrated by
considering stepwise shifts of tone holes while keeping the hole-to-hole distances fixed and by
comparing the resulting switches in input admittance spectra. When spectrum switching occurs,
docking of the upper and lower bores makes up a higher resonance mode throughout the whole bore
and then leads to the intonation anomaly. This spectrum switching on the cross fingering is generalized
as the diabatic transition (the Landau–Zener effect) in physics.
and eight sun (about 54 cm) long. Cross fingerings are used
1. INTRODUCTION for Ab , Bb , etc.
Cross fingerings in woodwind instruments are very A Japanese physicist, Torahiko Terada (1878–1935),
significant in musical expressions created by instrument first carried out an accurate measurement of the intonation
players [1]. Tonal pitch, volume, and timbre are appreci- of the shakuhachi [6]. He carefully measured pitch
ably changed by cross (or fork) fingerings from those given frequencies in the first and second registers for 32
by normal fingerings made of a lattice of open tone holes. fingerings, and directed attention to the octave balance. If
However, as modern Western instruments have many tone his intonation table is extensively examined, it is known
holes (whose numbers in the modern clarinet, oboe, and that there are many cases where cross fingerings cause
flute are 24, 23, and 13, respectively), the attraction of pitch sharpening instead of pitch flattening. Unfortunately,
cross fingerings is beginning to be lost. As a result, good his shakuhachi research ended with the measurement. The
opportunities to explore the acoustics of cross fingerings pitch sharpening due to cross fingerings is the reverse of
in woodwind instruments have unfortunately almost been our conventional understanding above [2–4]. Therefore, it
missed. Our conventional understanding of the acoustics of may be called an intonation anomaly in the present paper.
cross fingerings is based on Benade’s and Nederveen’s Nederveen [3] briefly considered this pitch sharpening
textbooks [2,3] and on the work of Wolfe and Smith [4]. due to cross fingering in the second register on an old-
On the other hand, the Japanese longitudinal bamboo model flute for A# 5 with the fingering (), in which
flute, shakuhachi, has only five tone holes (four on the front three holes were closed below the one opened for sounding
and one on the back). This means a decisive importance of the A5 . He also mentioned that a similar phenomenon
cross fingerings in the playing of the shakuhachi. See could be observed on a modern Boehm flute. However,
Ref. [5] for a concise explanation of this instrument. When such a phenomenon in modern flutes has never been treated
tone holes are successively opened from the bottom, D–F– in scientific publications [5]. He explained this intonation
G–A–C–D tones are emitted from a shakuhachi one shaku anomaly by calculating the input admittance of a model
tube (see Fig. A6.3 in Ref. [3]). Another familiar example
e-mail: shig@design.kyushu-u.ac.jp of the intonation anomaly is D# 6 on an alto recorder, which
314
S. YOSHIKAWA and K. KAJIWARA: SHAKUHACHI CROSS FINGERINGS AND INTONATION
315
Acoust. Sci. & Tech. 36, 4 (2015)
316
S. YOSHIKAWA and K. KAJIWARA: SHAKUHACHI CROSS FINGERINGS AND INTONATION
Fig. 3 Standing-wave patterns on fingerings D to G. The measured acoustic pressure pðxÞ is normalized by the acoustic
pressure p0 at the fifth tone-hole position. Left and right columns represent the upper-bore and lower-bore resonance
modes, respectively. The solid and dashed lines represent the modes numerically calculated and not numerically
calculated, respectively.
317
Acoust. Sci. & Tech. 36, 4 (2015)
The upper-bore modes (and their frequencies) are denoted a local pressure maximum was measured near the bore
as f1 ; f2 ; . . . , and the lower-bore modes (and their frequen- bottom.
cies) are denoted as f10 ; f20 ; . . . by using the prime (it is Cross fingering F makes reasonable standing-wave
assumed that fn n f1 and fn0 n f10 for n ¼ 1, 2, and 3). patterns of modes f1 (602 Hz), f2 (1,259 Hz), and f3
Also, subscripts such as ‘‘+,’’ ‘‘++,’’ and ‘‘12’’ are used to (1,860 Hz) along the upper bore, as shown in Fig. 3(e),
discriminate multiple modes in the same mode, such as f3 with some distortions near the closed 3rd and open 2nd
and f3þ ( f3þ > f3 ), and to classify the intermediate mode, tone holes. These modes give intonation anomalies (cf.
0
such as f12 , as briefly explained below. Moreover, solid Table 1). Also, these modes seem to form the 2nd, 4th, and
and dashed lines indicate the modes that are numerically 6th modes along the whole bore. Although the modes of
calculated and are not numerically calculated, respectively the lower bore were measured at f10 (552 Hz), f12 0
(826 Hz),
0 0 0
(cf. Sect. 4). f2 (1,100 Hz), and f3 (1,714 Hz), the f1 (552 Hz) mode
Modes f1 , f2 , f3 , and f3þ are shown in Fig. 3(a) on cannot be calculated because it violates the resonance
normal fingering D. Modes f1 (591 Hz) and f2 (1,185 Hz) condition at the open 5th tone hole [see Figs. 3(f) and 4(c)].
do not show their nodes below the open 5th tone hole due Cross fingering G yields beautiful patterns of modes f1
to the external drive near the bore bottom but show (615 Hz), f2 (1,234 Hz), and f3 (1,846 Hz) along the upper
decreasing amplitudes there. Therefore, the resonance bore, as shown in Fig. 3(g). These three modes give
condition is considered to be satisfied there. Modes f3 intonation anomalies (cf. Table 1) and form the 2nd, 4th,
(1,759 Hz) and f3þ (1,947 Hz) indicate larger amplitudes in and 6th modes along the whole bore. However, mode f3þ
the lower bore and mode f3 shows an antinode below the (1,955 Hz), which is slightly higher than f3þ (1,951 Hz) on
open 5th tone hole. However, these modes tend to form the cross fingering E, violates the resonance condition at the
nodes near the bore top and bottom. Therefore, modes f3 bore end. Also, the lower bore yields beautiful patterns of
and f3þ are regarded as the whole-bore resonance modes. modes f10 (454 Hz), f20 (887 Hz), and f30 (1,505 Hz) along the
On the other hand, f10 , f12 0 0
, f2þþ , and f30 are shown in lower bore, as shown in Fig. 3(h), and these three modes
Fig. 3(b). These modes have higher amplitudes in the form the 2nd, 3rd, and 5th modes along the whole bore.
lower bore. However, f10 (536 Hz) and f12 0
(888 Hz) show However, mode f12 0
(543 Hz) violates the resonance
increasing amplitudes (toward the upper bore) at the open conditions at the open 5th hole and bore bottom.
5th hole, and violate the resonance condition there (mode As explained above, our measurement result in Fig. 3
0
f12 shows the standing-wave pattern and the frequency is consistent with the results in Table 1 obtained from
value intermediate between f10 and f20 ). Mode f30 (1,598 Hz) playing the shakuhachi very well, in terms of the intonation
shows the pressure maximum near the bore bottom, and anomaly. In addition, we may sum up the results as
0
violates the resonance condition there as well. Only f2þþ follows:
(1,416 Hz), which is much higher than f20 (not measured) (1) The intonation anomaly by cross fingerings occurs if
and sufficiently lower than f30 , satisfies the resonance the nth mode of the upper bore forms the (n þ n)th
conditions at the open 5th hole and at bore bottom. mode of the whole bore (the whole-bore modes are
Since cross fingering E closes the 4th tone hole, the produced even below the cutoff frequency) and if
internal pressure takes the maximum near this tone hole, as normal fingering consisting of an open-tone-hole
shown in Figs. 3(c) and 3(d). As a result, the nodes or local lattice forms the [n þ ðn 1Þ]st mode of the whole
minima (kinks) are formed near the open 5th tone hole, and bore. This is exemplified by n ¼ 2 on cross fingering
the resonance condition is satisfied there for all modes E and n ¼ 1, 2, and 3 on cross fingerings F and G.
drawn in Figs. 3(c) and 3(d). Additionally, the upper-bore (2) The intonation anomaly at higher frequencies prob-
modes satisfy the resonance condition at the embouchure ably occurs above the cutoff frequency (around
end, and the lower-bore modes satisfy it at the bore bottom. 1,300 Hz) of the open-tone-hole lattice (cf. Sect. 3.4).
Therefore, all modes measured on fingering E are calcu- This is exemplified by n ¼ 3 ( f3 on fingerings F
lated as input admittance peaks [see Fig. 4(b)]. Note that and G).
cross fingering E cannot produce the 3rd mode ( f3 3 f1 )
of the upper bore. This is because, in the 3rd mode, the 3.3. Results for Fingerings A, B, and C
pressure must be made minimum near the 4th tone hole, Unfortunately, page limitation does not allow us to
as shown in Figs. 3(e) and 3(g). Cross fingering E then explain the results for fingerings A, B, and C in detail. See
gives f3þ (1,951 Hz), which is considerably higher than Ref. [7] for a more detailed explanation. The following
f3 of cross fingerings F and G at 1,860 and 1,846 Hz, may be stated by summing up the results:
respectively. The upper-bore 2nd mode f2 (1,316 Hz) gives (1) The intonation anomaly due to cross fingerings occurs
the intonation anomaly (cf. Table 1). Although mode f3þ if the nth mode of the upper bore forms the [n þ
(1,951 Hz) may be considered as a whole-bore mode, ðn 1Þ]st mode of the whole bore. This is exemplified
318
S. YOSHIKAWA and K. KAJIWARA: SHAKUHACHI CROSS FINGERINGS AND INTONATION
by n ¼ 2 and 3 on cross fingering B [see f2þ up the air column toward the embouchure according to the
(1,038 Hz) and f3þþ (1,485 Hz) in Ref. [7]] and n ¼ transmission matrix (TM) method [8–13]. The 13th con-
2 on cross fingerings C [see f2 (928 Hz) in Ref. [7]]. vergent conical element from the embouchure end (x ¼
(2) However, the intonation anomaly does not occur 540 mm) to the position x ¼ 490 mm is commonly seen
even if the nth mode of the upper bore forms the in classical shakuhachis, although its length and conicity
[n þ ðn 2Þ]nd mode of the whole bore. This is differ individually [14].
exemplified by n ¼ 3 and 4 on cross fingering B [see The end correction E at the embouchure hole is
f3 (1,301 Hz) and f4 (1,880 Hz) in Ref. [7]] and n ¼ 3 incorporated in the 14th cylindrical element with bore
on cross fingering C [see f3 (1,293 Hz) in Ref. [7]]. diameter 2a ¼ 20:3 mm. The length E is determined
so that the first-mode frequency f1 given by numerical
3.4. Cutoff Frequency of an Open-Tone-Hole Lattice calculation matches that given by the standing-wave
The cutoff frequency fc of an open-tone-hole lattice is measurement in the previous section. Also, the tone-hole
defined as central positions and geometries are indicated in Table 2.
The estimated values of E were 37.1, 43.1, 33.9, 44.7,
fc ¼ 0:11cðb=aÞð1=slÞ1=2 ; ð1Þ
48.4, 35.5, and 41.6 mm on fingerings A to G, respectively.
where a denotes the bore radius, b the tone-hole radius, These E values appear reasonable in comparison with
c the speed of sound in the bore, s half the hole-to-hole E ¼ 42 mm used for the design of the modern flute by
distance, and l the acoustical length of a tone hole [2,4,5]. T. Boehm, though these E values tend to lower higher
If averaged values are used to these quantities of our modes [5].
shakuhachi [a ¼ 8:5 mm, b ¼ 5 mm, c ¼ 346:5 m/s at
room temperature, s ¼ 20 mm, and l ¼ 15:5 mm including 4.2. Calculation Method Applied to Tone-Hole System
open-end corrections at both ends (1:5b)], fc is given as The transmission matrix (TM) method, which has been
1,270 Hz. developed and applied to various engineering problems
However, it should be noted that fc of Eq. (1) is such as acoustical filters and mufflers [15,16], is considered
calculated under the assumption of an infinite bore length to be sufficiently established to apply to woodwind
and equally spaced open tone holes [4]. Therefore, Eq. (1) instrument bores with tone holes for calculating the input
may not be applied to cross fingerings. Nevertheless, fc of impedance or admittance [8–13,16]. Keefe’s method
about 1,300 Hz serves to discriminate the modes reflected [5,8,9] defines a tone hole as a T-section network
near the top open hole (mostly yielded below 1,300 Hz) consisting of a series impedance Za and a shunt impedance
from the modes penetrating it [cf. f3 (1,759 Hz) in Zs . The TM method can estimate both the input admittance
Fig. 3(a), f3 (1,846 Hz) in Fig. 3(g), etc.]. and the standing-wave pattern starting from the radiation
impedance and moving up to the embouchure (by multi-
4. NUMERICAL CALCULATIONS plying the matrices corresponding to acoustical elements
The external drive of the instrument tends to cause the such as the bore and tone hole) [8–13]. For the detailed
modes that violate the resonance conditions, as indicated mathematical expressions in the TM method, readers are
in Fig. 3 by the dashed line. Numerical calculation of the directed to Refs. [8–13,16] for the sake of page saving,
input admittance can help discriminate such violating except the following brief comments on related matters.
modes from the not-violating modes. Moreover, internal If the bore bottom corresponds to the radiation end and
pressure distributions (standing-wave patterns) along the there is no tone hole, p1 at the input side of the first
bore are essential to discriminate the modes of the upper cylindrical element with length L1 is given as [17,18]
bore from those of the lower bore. This discrimination
p1 ¼ ½coshðL1 Þ þ ðZc =Zrad Þ sinhðL1 Þprad ; ð2Þ
(mode identification) is almost impossible using only the
limited information of input admittances. where prad denotes the pressure at the radiation end and
Zrad the radiation impedance. The (¼ þ i!=c) is the
4.1. Bore Model complex propagation wave number, where the attenuation
The inner bore of the shakuhachi used for the standing- constant includes the effects of visco-thermal losses at
wave measurement is modeled as a tube consisting of ten the bore boundary layer and is approximated as ¼
cylindrical elements, two divergent conical elements, and 3 105 f 1=2 =a (m1 ) [5] (! denotes the angular frequen-
two convergent conical elements (see Table 2), based on cy), and Zc is the characteristic impedance. For the
the image from the CT scan. The slight bend near the bore calculation of Za and Zs , newly improved equations given
bottom is neglected. Note that the position x along the bore in Ref. [10] are used instead of conventional ones [5,8,9].
axis is taken from the bore bottom to start with acoustic Equation (2) is the starting point of our calculation.
radiation at the open end (radius a0 ) of the bore and work Although Fletcher and Rossing [5] consider that the
319
Acoust. Sci. & Tech. 36, 4 (2015)
Table 2 Bore and tone-hole geometries of the shakuhachi. standing-wave patterns given by the measurement describ-
Position x Diameter 2a Bore/Tone hole (inner dia., length) ed in the previous section or by the calculation.
Even in normal fingering D, two small resonant modes
0 (bottom) 17.8 mm 1st element (divergent conical)
60 mm 15.6 2nd element (cylindrical) of the lower bore f20 (1,084 Hz) and f2þþ
0
(1,354 Hz) appear
119 15.6 1st tone hole (10 mm, 7.7 mm) in the input admittance spectra, as shown in Fig. 4(a). In
119 16.2 3rd element (cylindrical) addition, a small peak f3þ (1,884 Hz) appears above f3
171 16.2 2nd tone hole (10 mm, 7.2 mm) (1,679 Hz) of the upper bore. Such identification is carried
171 16.2 4th element (convergent conical)
200 17.0 5th element (cylindrical)
out through comparison with standing-wave patterns
220 17.0 3rd tone hole (9.8 mm, 7.4 mm) shown in Figs. 3(a) and 3(b). The situation is the same in
220 17.0 6th element (cylindrical) Figs. 4(b), 4(c), and 4(d) for cross fingerings E, F, and G,
284 17.0 4th tone hole (10 mm, 7.0 mm) respectively. Interestingly, spectra of the upper and lower
284 17.0 7th element (cylindrical)
bores appear one after the other in Fig. 4(d) for cross
320 17.0 5th tone hole (10 mm, 9.4 mm)
320 17.6 8th element (cylindrical) fingering G.
350 17.6 Since we do not have enough page space to show the
350 18.4 9th element (cylindrical) results for fingerings A, B, and C, see Refs. [13] and [18]
390 18.4 for their input admittance spectra.
390 18.8 10th element (cylindrical)
430 18.8 11th element (divergent conical)
460 18.0 12th element (cylindrical) 4.4. Results of Internal Standing-Wave Patterns
490 18.0 13th element (convergent conical) The calculation results on internal standing-wave
540 20.3 14th element (cylindrical) patterns show very good agreement with the measurement
540 þ E 20.3 (end correction at the embouchure)
results for fingerings A to G [18]. Of course, it is
impossible to calculate the measured modes violating the
resonance condition near the bore bottom (cf. the modes
shown by the dashed line in Fig. 3). In this subsection,
presence of the baffle has a relatively small effect (except results for fingerings A to C (note that the embouchure end
ka0 1) on Zrad , the fundamental frequency of musical correction E was adjusted to yield the same resonance
instruments is usually in the range of ka0 1. Lefebvre frequency as the measured frequency) are displayed for the
and Scavone [10] proposed the radiation impedance of an respective mode to show the intonation anomaly from a
unflanged tone hole at low frequencies. Their Eq. (10) is different viewpoint.
adapted to our case as follows: Figure 5(a) is on the first mode, where the pressure
along the lower bore below the open 3rd tone hole becomes
Zrad ¼ Zc ½0:25ðka0 Þ2 þ ikð0:7a0 Þ; ð3Þ
higher as the 2nd and 1st tone holes are closed in
where their tone-hole end correction 0:61b is replaced by succession in fingerings B and C. Also, a weak kink of
0:7a0 assuming that the shakuhachi’s bore end made of the the pressure magnitude is seen at the open tone hole. These
bamboo root operates as an intermediate baffle. patterns well illustrate the typical effect of cross fingerings.
Therefore, if prad is adequately assumed, the relative On the other hand, fingering C produces a very deep
distribution of the internal pressure can be calculated from trough near the closed 2nd tone hole, as shown in Fig. 5(b)
Eq. (2). Similarly, the input admittance is calculated by for the 2nd mode. At this time, the 3rd mode is formed
multiplying the bore transmission matrices and the tone- along the whole bore and the intonation anomaly is
hole matrices from the bottom to the embouchure end induced. It may then be understood that the lower bore is
correction E [5,8–13,16,17]. Room temperature is as- almost completely coupled (docked) with the upper bore
sumed to be the average (26.9 C) in the measurement. instead of being separated at the top open tone hole,
because the pattern only indicates a negligible kink (phase
4.3. Results of Input Admittances change) there. The whole-bore mode is thus formed.
The absolute magnitudes of the input admittances jYIN j Although the 3rd modes form the 4th modes along the
on fingerings D, E, F, and G are shown in Fig. 4. In whole bore, as shown in Fig. 5(c), the intonation anomaly
general, cross fingerings change the input admittance does not occur, as noted in the measurement result [cf.
spectra (almost harmonic) of normal fingerings to inhar- (2) in Sect. 3.3]. In this case, all patterns indicate an
monic. This is due to the acoustic characteristics below the appreciable kink (phase change) at the top open tone hole.
top open tone hole. As a result, the upper-bore modes are The bore docking mentioned above does not occur.
mixed with the lower-bore modes, and spectrum identi- However, cross fingerings B and C easily yield the
fication is required. Note that this spectrum identification higher 3rd mode f3þþ , as shown in Fig. 5(d) (cf. Table 1).
is almost impossible without the knowledge of internal This mode forms the 5th mode along the whole bore and
320
S. YOSHIKAWA and K. KAJIWARA: SHAKUHACHI CROSS FINGERINGS AND INTONATION
Fig. 4 Calculated input admittances of fingerings D to G. Fig. 5 Standing-wave patterns for fingerings A, B, and C.
321
Acoust. Sci. & Tech. 36, 4 (2015)
322
S. YOSHIKAWA and K. KAJIWARA: SHAKUHACHI CROSS FINGERINGS AND INTONATION
323
Acoust. Sci. & Tech. 36, 4 (2015)
degeneracy at the crossing is broken by an interaction that open tone hole, it was essential to discriminate the upper-
couples the levels. bore resonances from the lower-bore resonances. Switching
The avoided crossing region is passed by remaining on of the input admittance spectra between an upper-bore
the same branch when an adiabatic transition takes place. mode and a lower-bore mode was observed when the
However, a non-adiabatic (diabatic) transition yields a associated tone hole positions were varied while keeping
jump to another branch across the avoided crossing, as the hole-to-hole distances fixed.
shown by the arrow in Fig. 8. The probability of this The spectrum switching caused the intonation anomaly
transition is given by the famous Landau–Zener formula upon cross fingerings, as shown in Figs. 6 and 7. Also,
[23,24] in quantum mechanics. when the intonation anomaly occurred, docking between
Figure 7(a) (e.g., the green line of fingering G) clearly the upper and lower bores was established as if the top
demonstrates the jump in the diabatic transition. The open tone hole did not exist. As a result, a higher mode was
embouchure-to-fifth tone hole distance x is now interpreted formed along the whole bore, as illustrated in Figs. 3, 5,
as the parameter controlling the interaction between the and 6. Such strong bore docking is never expected for usual
upper and lower bores. The spectrum switching on the cross fingerings. The spectrum switching is a good example
cross fingering revealed in Figs. 6 and 7 well reflects the of the diabatic transition widely seen in physics.
diabatic transition. It is surprising that the cross fingering Cross fingering yielded very complicated spectra of the
and the associated intonation anomaly in the shakuhachi, input admittance, and it was difficult to correctly identify
which are minor topics in musical acoustics, are charac- the upper-bore and lower-bore spectra without the knowl-
terized by the fundamental diabatic transition in quantum edge of internal standing-wave patterns, the importance
and classical physics. of which has not been fully discussed up to now in the
Very recently, Adachi [25] has proposed a simplified framework of woodwind acoustics.
model to explain the mechanism of the intonation anomaly Also, the cutoff frequency of the open-tone-hole lattice
by considering Nederveen’s example discussed in Sect. 5.1. seemed to play a significant role in producing the intonation
However, his model is restricted to the conventional anomaly upon cross fingering, though it was difficult to
adiabatic transition, such as that seen in two strings coupled exactly define the cutoff frequency of cross fingerings.
with a bridge [5], and cannot be applied to the diabatic Below the assumed cutoff frequency, the intonation
transition characterized by the jump from one branch to anomaly was caused by the resonance in the lower bore,
another. Also, as pointed out in Sect. 5.1, his f2þ mode which produced a higher whole-bore resonance mode.
(higher than the f3 mode at first) cannot be recognized as a Above the cutoff frequency, the top open tone hole did
second mode of the left-hand bore and this mode should be not function as an open tone hole, and the resonating
defined as f10 , as illustrated in Fig. 6(b). A more relevant pressure wave in the upper bore penetrated into the lower
model should incorporate mode switches such as that bore without significant reflection at the open tone hole.
observed between f2 and f10 (Fig. 6) and mode jumps such However, since this pressure wave was reflected at the bore
as those observed between f2 and f20 and between f2 and f30 bottom, a standing-wave pattern of a much higher whole-
(Fig. 7). The mode identification, which has been carried bore resonance mode was produced, as shown in Figs. 3
out very carefully in this paper, is essential for creating a and 5. Such a standing-wave pattern causes the intonation
theoretical model applicable to cross fingerings and the anomaly above the assumed cutoff frequency.
associated intonation anomaly in the near future. It seems that the acoustics of cross fingerings has
just come into new phase with the associated intonation
6. CONCLUSIONS anomaly in the shakuhachi. Relevant physical modeling of
The acoustics of cross fingerings was explored in the the spectral (or mode) switching that causes the intonation
shakuhachi through the measurement and calculation of anomaly is expected in the near future.
pressure standing waves and the calculation of input
admittances. Standing waves and input admittances were
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
calculated by the transmission matrix method with the This research was supported by Grants-in-Aid for
tone-hole matrix formulation. A particular interest was Science Research (subject numbers: 22652018 and
focused on the intonation anomaly due to cross fingerings 25560008) of the Japan Society for the Promotion of
in the second and third registers. The results of the Science. This paper is dedicated to the late Professor
measurement and calculation displayed good agreement Yoshinori Ando (1928–2013) in memory of his great
concerning the acoustical characteristics of cross fingerings contributions to shakuhachi acoustics. Also, the authors are
and their associated intonation anomalies. grateful for the comment on the diabatic transition made
Since the cross fingering tends to divide the instrument by Professor Kin’ya Takahashi of the Kyushu Institute of
bore (air column) into the upper and lower bores at the top Technology.
324
S. YOSHIKAWA and K. KAJIWARA: SHAKUHACHI CROSS FINGERINGS AND INTONATION
(in Japanese).
REFERENCES
[14] Y. Ando, Acoustics of Musical Instruments, 2nd ed. (Ongaku-
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and Faber Ltd., London, 1957). [15] F. Fahy, Foundations of Engineering Acoustics (Academic
[2] A. H. Benade, Fundamentals of Musical Acoustics (Oxford Press, New York, 2001), pp. 206–211.
University Press, New York, 1976), Chap. 21. [16] D. Mapes-Riordan, ‘‘Horn modeling with conical and cylin-
[3] C. J. Nederveen, Acoustical Aspects of Woodwind Instruments, drical transmission-line elements,’’ J. Audio Eng. Soc., 41,
2nd ed. (Northern Illinois University Press, DeKalb, Illinois, 471–483 (1993).
1998) pp. 50–53, 132–133. [17] T. Ebihara and S. Yoshikawa, ‘‘Nonlinear effects contributing
[4] J. Wolfe and J. Smith, ‘‘Cutoff frequencies and cross fingerings to hand-stopping tones in a horn,’’ J. Acoust. Soc. Am., 133,
in baroque, classical, and modern flutes,’’ J. Acoust. Soc. Am., 3094–3106 (2013).
114, 2263–2272 (2003). [18] K. Kajiwara and S. Yoshikawa, ‘‘Discussion on the internal
[5] N. H. Fletcher and T. D. Rossing, The Physics of Musical sound pressure distributions when cross fingerings are used
Instruments, 2nd ed. (Springer-Verlag, New York, 1998), in the shakuhachi,’’ Proc. Autumn Meet. Acoust. Soc. Jpn.,
Sects. 16.9, 15.3, 8.2, 4.10. pp. 903–906 (2013) (in Japanese).
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[7] S. Yoshikawa, ‘‘Cross fingerings and associated intonation ison with the baroque flute,’’ Tech. Rep. Musical Acoust. Res.,
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32, MA2013-40 (2013) (in Japanese). [20] H. Nakamura, ‘‘New development of non-adiabatic transition
[8] D. H. Keefe, ‘‘Theory of the single woodwind tone hole,’’ J. theory,’’ J. Phys. Soc. Jpn., 51, 829–834 (1996) (in Japanese).
Acoust. Soc. Am., 72, 676–687 (1982). [21] J. R. Rubbmark, M. M. Kash, M. G. Littman and D. Kleppner,
[9] D. H. Keefe, ‘‘Experiments on the single woodwind tone hole,’’ ‘‘Dynamical effects at avoided level crossing: A study of the
J. Acoust. Soc. Am., 72, 688–699 (1982). Landau-Zener effect using Rydberg atoms,’’ Phys. Rev. A, 23,
[10] A. Lefebvre and G. P. Scavone, ‘‘Characterization of wood- 3107–3117 (1981).
wind instrument toneholes with the finite element method,’’ J. [22] L. Novotny, ‘‘Strong coupling, energy splitting, and level
Acoust. Soc. Am., 131, 3153–3163 (2012). crossings: A classical perspective,’’ Am. J. Phys., 78, 1199–
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89–101 (1985). [25] S. Adachi, ‘‘Resonance modes and a model of a flute with
[13] S. Yoshikawa and K. Kajiwara, ‘‘Discussion on the intonation one open tone hole,’’ Tech. Rep. Musical Acoust. Res., 33,
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325
This way, the name shakuhachi comes from the length of the
instrument, i.e. from the Japanese system of lengths
madake
The Shakuhachi is a traditional Japanese bamboo flute. Its associated to the traditional bamboo flute. The Japanese
origin is unknown, even if some experts say it comes from word for eight is "hachi", so the name ShakuHachi means
Egypt, through China, a thousand or more years ago. one shaku and eight sun, i.e. one shaku and hachi sun... that
. Anyway, it is the most amazing flute in the history of music, has been simplified into ShakuHachi.
the magic bamboo for its aesthetic directly from Nature, and its sound so close
to the universal harmony that most of its players declare According to the original story, the ideal and most original
of the Japanese Shakuhachi they are in ecstasy when they play it. size of a shakuhachi is 54.54 cm: longer or shorter sizes are a
later adaptation of the shakuhachi to consider it not only as
The counting system used to measure the shakuhachi is individual meditative flute, as it was born for, but also as
"shaku/sun/bu", where one "shaku" is about 30.3 cm, one ensemble instrument where the players need to correct the
"sun" is about 3.03 cm, and one "bu" is about 0.303 cm. It is pitch in relationship to the ensemble sound, to get perfect
by THOMAS ALLOCCA similar to the metric system being based on ten, but the harmony from many shakuhachi playing together.
emitting sounds that unite earth and sky, coming from the perfection just to be used... this is why, its sound becomes
earth to elevate the spirit through harmonious vibrations from the origin of the existence, it brings us back to the
that bring back the soul to its birthplace, mother earth. roots, it closes the circle". If playing a shakuhachi, or just
listening its music, we feel like we are inside a circle,
Talking with Derek Van Choice about shakuhachi, he said to protected by a special energy, universal energy, now you
me "with madake, nature has enjoyed to surprise us over any know why: it's the magic of madake in shape of melody!
human expectations about its perfection... its technical
properties, its aesthetics, the unique sounds and vibrations the author
Thomas Allocca (Italy) www.wooden-architecture.org/madake
that the air produces through it... it is the greatest gift of
mother nature to music... as it was been prearranged by shakuhachi masters
nature before the man could invent music and shakuhachi, Derek Van Choice (California) www.hollowbamboo.net/shakuhachi
and madake, for the meantime, was already waiting in its Jeff Cairns (Japan) www.windwheel.com
尺八
Kiku Day
1
I am
A hole in a flute
That the Christ’s breath moves through—
Listen to this
Music
2
Table of Content
Table of content 3
Abstract 4
Conventions 4
1. Introduction 5
2.1 Research Questions 6
2.2 Hypothesis 6
2.3 Methodology 7
3. The shakuhachi: History and background 8
4.1 Mindfulness Meditation 10
4.2 Mindfulness and Music 12
5. Zen Buddhism during the Edo period 13
6.1 Meditation while playing shakuhachi I 15
61. Distinguishing between ‘flow’ and meditation 17
6.3 Meditation while playing shakuhachi II 18
6.4 Mindfulness Meditation while playing shakuhachi 19
7 Getting out into the World 22
st
8 Conclusion: Conclusion: 21 century komusō? Mindfulness meditation and
shakuhachi playing 23
Glossary 25
Reference 27
Discography 30
Websites cited 30
3
Abstract
Conventions
In the present paper, Japanese names are presented according to the Japanese practice of
placing family names first and given names second.
I have here followed the Hepburn romanisation system, with the long vowels ō and ū
indicated by a macron. Thus shoh is rendered as shō.
Japanese words take the same form whether in singular or plural. Thus the term shakuhachi
can refer to one or more instruments.
Japanese terms used here are defined at their first appearance only. A glossary of definitions is
provided at the end.
4
1. Introduction
For many shakuhachi1 players, the instrument’s history as a tool for meditation used by Zen
Buddhist mendicant monks is a major part of the attraction of playing the instrument; indeed,
no few players first learn of the instrument via their interest in Zen Buddhist meditation.2 On
various online shakuhachi fora, players proclaim not to to be interested in playing music
when playing the instrument—but to meditate.3 An example of this attitude is for example the
post on shakuhachiforum.com by Markintheworld (pseudonym) from Saratoga Springs, New
York, from 19 March 2010:
A recent google search on the Boolean search term ‘shakuhachi and meditation’ gave me
206,000 hits and a plethora of CDs recordings of shakuhachi music are described as
‘meditation music’.4
While the shakuhachi was indeed used a tool for meditation by the komusō monks (lit.
monks of nothingness), the mendicant monks of the Fuke sect, a subsect of Rinzai Zen, the
available evidence indicates that the study of the shakuhachi as a religious tool ceased soon
after the sect was permanently abolished in 1871 by the new Meiji government (1868–1912).
The music, however, continues to be transmitted today. Publications concerning, for example,
the revival of the Myōan-ji5 temple in Kyoto in 1890 have been focused on how Higuchi
Taizan (1856–1914)6 recreated the repertoire of the Myōan group based on traditions taken
from several temples, while those dealing with secular developments describe how skilled
players began to form guilds and and introduce the instrument in ensemble music (see for
1
Organologically, the shakuhachi is defined as a Japanese vertical notched oblique bamboo flute.
2
Both statements are based on my active engagement in the shakuhachi scene these past 20 years.
3
See www.shakuhachiforum.com and www.shakuhachiforum.eu among others.
4
See, for example, Richardson, Stan. 1997. Shakuhachi Meditation Music: Traditional Japanese Flute for
Zen Contemplation. Boulder: Sounds True M301D and Lee, Riley. 2012. Shakuhachi Flute Meditations: Zen
Music to Calm the Mind. Boulder: Sounds True: m2505d.
5
The Myōanji-temple and the Myōan kyōkai (society) are today the most important gatherings of shakuhachi
players who continue in the tradition of the komusō monks.
6
Higuchi Taizan was appointed as the shakuhachi master of the newly founded Myōan Kyokai (society) in
1890. He modernised the notation system and compiled a collection of honkyoku that became the Myōan
repertoire.
5
example Kamisangō 1988 and Takahashi 1990), but nothing has been written concerning the
transmission of its use as a tool for meditation.
It is my intention to carry out practically based performance research on how to
combine mindfulness meditation and shakuhachi playing by drawing on my own experience
as a shakuhachi player and practitioner of meditation – thus a first person (subject oriented)
approach - while also utilising interviews of other non-Japanese shakuhachi players. The
reason I chose to interview non-Japanese players is that the majority of Japanese players view
themselves as having a secular approach to the playing of shakuhachi, thereby distancing
themselves from the Fuke sect and komusō monks, while the shakuhachi interest of non-
Japanese players, as we have seen above, is frequently accompanied by an equally great
interest for Zen Buddhism.7
My aim is to propose how to combine shakuhachi and meditation and describe the process of
how to practice this approach.
How can mindfulness-based meditation be applied to shakuhachi playing and thereby restore
that aspect of meditation so important in the heritage of that instrument?
Can applying mindfulness-based meditation to the playing of shakuhachi reveal an
understanding on how the komusō monks may have used the shakuhachi as tool for
meditation, with the ultimate goal of reaching enlightenment?
A few more questions will be asked in the Mindfulness Meditation section on page 12.
2.2 Hypothesis
7
I have observed a shift in the orientation of younger non-Japanese players, who seem to have an interest in
Japanese culture due to an upbringing in which manga and animé have been a part of their everyday lives.
6
to frame an hypothesis on what concrete from this practice may have taken; due to the
inadequacy of the record, written and otherwise, my reconstruction can constitute no more
than a suggestion of how the komusō monk’s meditation may have been implemented and
transmitted. My hope is to be able to provide a clear description, which can serve as an
inspiration for other shakuhachi players who wish to use the shakuhachi as a tool for
meditation and enlightenment.
2.3 Methodology
The investigation will be based on my background as a shakuhachi player since 1989 and the
my decade-long experience in meditation, in particular the mindfulness training I have
received during my participation in the mindfulness meditation instructor course at Skolen for
Anvendt Meditation, my own study of Jon Kabat-Zinn’s mindfulness meditation and my
training in meditation – in particularly since I moved to Vækstcenteret in 2007. As an
ethnomusicologist and performer of shakuhachi, I find I can range freely between theoretical
knowledge of academic disciplines and the embodied and applied praxis of art and
meditation. This project is thus a personal perspective and account of a musician-researcher
inhabiting the space between art, science and meditation (see also Biswas 2011:95-6)
As a part of the practice-based research, I have maintained a diary of my daily shakuhachi and
meditation practice from 4 April 2014. Currently I thus have notes from six month of practice
to draw from as a lived, subjective experience. I have furthermore interviewed seventeen
shakuhachi players from around the world, who volunteered to tell me how they use the
shakuhachi as a meditation tool, in response to a call I posted on online shakuhachi fora and
in shakuhachi groups on Facebook.
I find present-day techniques for mindfulness meditation to be excellent for shakuhachi
players, as, while they have roots in Buddhist meditation practices (as in the case of the
shakuhachi), they are not specific to any institutionalised religion; thus even non-Buddhists
can utilise them. While, unfortunately no documents from the Edo period (1603–1867)
describing how the komusō monks meditated or the instructions they received during their
training remain to us, we do have access to written material on Zen Buddhist meditation from
the period, which, as noted above, is the period during which the pieces which now form the
7
shakuhachi honkyoku were created. I believe that the Edo period material will inform my
investigation at the same time that the latter will add to our knowledge of the meditation
practices during that period. The present project thus constitutes a modern attempt to reunite
meditation and shakuhachi playing.
It is today generally believed that the shakuhachi was introduced into Japan from China via
the Korean peninsula during the Nara period (710–794) as one of the instruments in the
gagaku (court) ensemble (Tsukitani et al. 1994: 105), although other versions of how and
when the instrument came to Japan exist. Such an example is Kyotaku denki kokujikai
(Japanese Translation and Annotation of the History of the Kyotaku) in which it is written that
the Buddhist priest Shinchi Kakushin (1207–1298) brought the shakuhachi and the tradition of
playing, which dated back to the Tang Dynasty (618-907), to Japan from China (See:
Yamamoto Morihide: 1795). However, the earliest extant examples of the shakuhachi today
are found at the Shōsōin, a repository built in 756, which contains eight shakuhachi used in the
ceremony performed for the consecration of the Great Buddha of Tōdaiji temple in 752
(Tsukitani 2008: 147), which indicates that the instrument's history in Japan is at least five
centuries older than Shinchi Kakushin's journey to the Southern Song. When the gagaku
ensemble was reorganised in the mid-ninth century, the shakuhachi fell into desuetude (See
Nelson 2008: 41-2). A period of several centuries ensued in which no references to the
instrument appear in surviving historical documents.
The first mention of the instrument after this hiatus appears in 1233 in the Kyōkunshō, a
ten-volume treatise on gagaku written by Koma Chikazane: ‘the short flute is called
shakuhachi. It is now played by mekurahōshi (blind monks) and performers of sarugaku
(theatre)’. The first known illustration of a shakuhachi is found in the Taigenshō (1512)
although the illustration is dated to the late fourteenth century. The shakuhachi is then called
hitoyogiri, or ‘one node shakuhachi’ (after Tsukitani 2008).
During the early seventeenth century, a loose fraternity of itinerant shakuhachi playing
beggars converted into a recognised subsect of Rinzai Zen, the Fuke sect. A decree, Keichō no
Okitegaki, enacted in 1614 by the first Tokugawa Shōgun, Tokugawa Ieyasu (1543–1616),
8
served as the legal basis for the establishment of the Fuke sect, which only admitted men of
the samurai class and rōnin (unemployed samurai) as members of the order. The special
privileges granted the komusō included monopoly rights over the use of the shakuhachi
(laymen were officially prohibited from playing the shakuhachi – a rule implemented in 1677)
and travel passes that allowed them to travel to any part of Japan (Berger and Hughes 2001:
834). According to the rules of the sect the shakuhachi was to be used exclusively as a hōki, a
sacred tool, for the purpose of spiritual training and for takuhatsu (religious mendicancy).
In all, Nakatsuka Chikuzen lists seventy-seven Fuke temples that were scattered around
Japan during the Edo period (1979: 95-102). Three of the most important were Myōanji in
Kyoto and Ichigetsuji and Reihōji in the Kanto region, the area around Edo or present day
Tokyo (Olafson 1987: 1). A honsoku (set of rules) was issued when a man of samurai class
entered the sect. A standard honsoku from Ichigetsuji took the following form:
The shakuhachi is an instrument of the Dharma and there are numerous meaning
to be found in it… The three joints are the Three Powers [Heaven, Earth, and
Man]. The upper and the lower fingerholes represent the sun and the moon. The
five holes are also the Five Elements [Earth, Air, Fire, Water and Space]. Taken as
a whole, the shakuhachi is the profound wellspring of all phenomenal things. If a
man plays the shakuhachi, all things will come to him. His mind and realm of
light and dark will become one.
The tengai hat is an implement of adornment of the Buddha-kāya (the Triple
Body of the Buddha). It is an item of clothing authorised to our sect [alone]…
(after Sanford 1977: 422-3).
Each temple developed its own corpus of music which, when taken together, comprise the
repertoire of approximately 150 honkyoku (original or fundamental pieces) from the Edo
period known today. Honkyoku is thus a term that refers to the solo pieces with roots in the
Edo period which were played by komusō monks either for their spiritual meditation training
for or religious mendicancy. Music other than honkyoku was referred to as gaikyoku (outer
pieces) or rankyoku (disorderly pieces) (Linder 2012: 98), which the monks were enjoined
from playing. It is known that all komusō did not fully observe the rules mentioned above, and
9
that some played rankyoku and even opened shakuhachi teaching schools in for example Edo
(present day Tokyo) and that the relationship between the bakufu (the Edo government) and
the Fuke sect worsened due to difficulties controlling the sect and criminal behaviour on the
part of some monks (Takahashi 1990: 117-9).
The Edo bakufu was overthrown in 1867 and in October 1871, the new Meiji government
issued a decree, a Dajōkan Fukoku, which, among other things, banned the Fuke sect. Begging
was prohibited in 1872, although it was again made legal in 1881 (Lee 1993: 151). These
events, along with the Meiji Government’s decision to prioritise Western music in compulsory
education, naturally had a strong impact on the shakuhachi, its music and environment and led
to major changes. According to Tsukitani Tsuneko and Shimura Satoshi, after the abolition of
the Fuke sect the shakuhachi was to follow two distinct paths: secular and religious (Tsukitani
2008: 152, Shimura 2002b: 705) – the religious path becoming marginalised and ignored in
the highly professionalised hōgaku (Japanese traditional music) world. As noted above, the
available evidence indicates that the transmission of the study of the shakuhachi as a
meditation tool ceased even in the Myōan Kyōkai, which was established when Myōanji
temple was revived in Kyoto in 1890, while the transmission of the music continued and
continues today. Publications concerning, for example, the revival of the Myōan-ji8 temple in
Kyoto in 1890 have been focused on how Higuchi Taizan (1856–1914)9 recreated the
repertoire of the Myōan group based on traditions taken from several temples, while those
dealing with secular developments describe how skilled players began to form guilds and and
introduce the instrument in ensemble music (see for example Kamisangō 1988 and Takahashi
1990). And from here, we turn to the present:
Mindfulness meditation is the cultivation of the ability to be present in a given moment, while
being non-judgemental and intentionally aware of that moment. Thus staying with that
present moment, as it is, means to stay with and let go of the identification of the emotions,
8
The Myōanji-temple and the Myōan kyōkai (society) are today the most important gatherings of shakuhachi
players who continue in the tradition of the komusō monks.
9
Higuchi Taizan was appointed as the shakuhachi master of the newly founded Myōan Kyokai (society) in
1890. He modernised the notation system and compiled a collection of honkyoku that became the Myōan
repertoire.
10
sensations and thoughts (after Risom 2013, Kabat-Zinn: 1994). One further concept can be
added to mindfulness meditation as described above, which is ‘witness consciousness’, a state
of awareness in which habits of the mind, such as thinking, being distracted, and assessing,
are replaced by non-distracted present awareness (Risom 2013: 43). This paper will in
particular be concerned with mindfulness and witness-conscious mind during the playing of
shakuhachi.
While attempting to grasp the concept mindfulness – a word that has during the past decade
entered everyday vocabulary – I became curious about its etymology. The Concise Oxford
Dictionary from 2001 explains 'mindful' ('mindfulness' is not entered) as to be ‘conscious or
aware of something’ and inclined or intending to do something’ (Pearsall: 2001: 906), while
the Oxford Dictionaries Online defines 'mindfulness' as:
which clearly shows that the world ‘mindfulness’ has become a common word. The Online
Etymology Dictionary describes that ‘Old English mindful means ‘of good memory’
(http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?term=mindful&allowed_in_frame=0. Accessed
04.10.14). The Pali10 word sati is often translated as mindfulness although etymologically, it
means ‘to remember’ but in Buddhism it refers to skilful attentiveness
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sati). Accessed 04.10.14). All the above, including the archaic
meanings, reinforce my understanding of the word today. The archaic meaning ‘to remember’
– I find – is a key element in carrying mindful meditation into effect. One has to remember to
be aware – an important and lengthy aspect of the training of meditation. This brings me to
self-forgetfulness in which one forgets to be mindful. In my opinion, self-forgetfulness is an
aspect of the human mind that musicians become well acquainted with. Self-forgetfulness is
the mind being bound to and identical with its content, condition, and experiences and
thereby forgetting who is experiencing this particular moment (Risom 2013: 59). As
10
Pali is a dead Indo-Aryan language, in which many earliest extant Buddhist scriptures are written.
11
musicians we are often wholeheartedly absorbed in the production of sound. And with the
self-forgetfulness comes the evaluating mind as if it was a henchman, which is an instinctive
and – in fact – a reasonable aspect of music making as a large amount of time, we are
bringing to perfection the musical output. Thus one of the questions I had in mind before
embarking on this project was how can I find the delicate balance between having a non-
judgementally attention on the sound I produce while accepting the present moment and
thereby the sounds to be as they are – and still produce sounds that are musical, in order to
draw listeners into the musical sound world? I believe it is a general experience among
musicians to experience music playing when it flows without effort. However, I also believe
many become self-forgetful in this pleasant state of being which brings me to the next
subject. It is my hope that I will be able to somewhat the answer to the question during this
paper.
Many people, including musicians believe that ‘meditation naturally appeals to musicians’ as
Rolf Hind, composer and pianist at the Guildhall School of Music & Drama in London wrote
in the Guardian in 201111. He argues the above with
the time [the musicians] spend – even as children – in a state of solitary absorption,
called practice. And when they perform, they seek "flow states" where, in the
coming together of all the preparation and the right circumstances, playing feels
wonderfully natural and unselfconscious (Hind: 2011).
Others state that listening to music is mindfulness practice in itself. One such person is
Patrick Groneman, who on 11 October 2013 writes: ‘Sometimes people will ask me whether
or not listening to music counts as mindfulness practice. I'd say sure…’ and he goes on to
explain ‘what makes a session of mindful music appreciation unique and distinct from a
mindful breathing practice’. He explains that ‘Music is a language of energy, a "vibe" of
emotions and joy. It speaks to our core desires and feelings. It spans language barriers and
political borders, making it a powerful means through which humans can connect. He then
11
12
quotes Karen Armstrong saying: ‘Beethoven's string quartets express pain itself [however] it
is not my pain’ (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/patrick-groneman/mindfulness-
practice_b_3894331.html, accessed 08.10.14).
However, I am not convinced that meditation naturally appeals to musicians and listening to
music itself is mindfulness meditation. I believe it is not an easy task to apply meditation to
music playing and that it requires as arduous training as any sitting meditation form. I find
that people, myself included, are confused by the notions of concentration, flow, and
meditation. They overlap, and they are not mutually exclusive ; however, I do not perceive
them to be the synonyms for the same phenomenon, which I shall discuss below. Shakuhachi
and meditation undoubtedly overlap due to history. And shakuhachi playing as meditation is
often described as suizen (lit. blowing Zen), often as a counterpart to zazen (lit. sitting Zen or
the meditation practice performed in Zen Buddhism). However, I have not seen the word
suizen in any historical documents, and nor had prof. Tsukitani Tsuneko (1944–2010), who
explained to me, that the first time the word appeared was when the stone, in which the word
is engraved, was erected at the Myōanji temple in Kyoto in the early 20th century (personal
conversation 2007). Thus, meditation continued to be important for (some) shakuhachi
players even after the abolishment of the Fuke sect, although—as noted—the transmission of
practice seems to have faded away.
Zen Buddhism, including the Rinzai school, which was said to have stagnated, experienced a
decline during the early Edo period. Many scholars have therefore focused on Neo-
Confucianism during the Edo period, with Buddhist movements often viewed as decadent or
of merely secondary importance (Mohr 1994: 341) during the period. However, Hakuin
Ekaku (1686–1768) and Takuan Sōhō (1573–1645) are generally thought to have revived the
Rinzai school of Zen Buddhism during a period important for the Fuke sect. Takuan explains
clearly the Buddhist principles of how a person trained in meditation perceives the world:
…when you put things in front of a mirror they are reflected in it according to their
13
form. The mirror does not discriminate between the objects to whether they are
beautiful or ugly, but still the mirror reflects their beauty or their ugliness… So it is
with the strategist when he opens isshin (the one mind) like a mirror, the innocent
mind, in front of his opponent. He can see good and bad clearly without the mind
discriminating between good and bad. He can act absolutely freely, ‘walking on the
water as he walks on earth’ and ‘walking on the earth as he walks on the water’
(Hirose 1992: 43-4).
In the context of shakuhachi playing and Buddhism, I find Takuan's phrase ‘He can see good
and bad clearly without the mind discriminating between good and bad. He can act absolutely
freely…’ of great interest. One of the trouble I have had when reflecting on meditation and
shakuhachi playing has been an opinion commonly held among shakuhachi players that a
player may be excused for not playing well because he is more interested in the spiritual
aspect of shakuhachi playing than the musical. This is like saying ‘as long as I sit down in the
meditation position, the quality of my meditating does not matter’. To my mind, if meditation
and shakuhachi playing really can be combined and have a contemplative effect, the same
sort of effort has to be made during 'plain meditation' as is made during sitting meditation.
Thus the playing skill does matter—in my opinion.
Hakuin is well known for having convinced Zen Buddhist students once again that
freedom was to be found in the authentic realisation of kenshō or enlightenment attained
through vigorous zazen and koan study directed toward, and later beyond enlightenment
(post-enlightenment training) (Waddell 1994: xii). One noteworthy thing about Hakuin – also
in the context of this paper – is that he seriously devoted himself to calligraphy and painting
later in life, and thus developed an artistic relation to Zen Buddhism. In fact, art became a
central part of Hakuin’s teachings and one of the chief hallmarks of the Zen lineage after him;
he considered his paintings to be part of his sermons with a more direct and universal appeal,
and his work is considered to ‘possess an ability unique even among Zen artists to translate
visceral Zen experience on paper (Waddell 1994: xxi), which bears a striking relevance to
shakuhachi, as one might well say the same thing about the playing of music being a
translation of visceral experience into sound. However, Hakuin also describes the situation of
monks contemporary to him as either sitting alone in retreat, not realising that others are
being ‘rowdy miscreants haunting down the town streets engrossed in these unsavoury
pastimes… it all takes place in broad daylight for everyone to see, their black sins become
known to all’ and mentions that ‘even the masterless samurai talk of their flagrant misdeeds’
14
(Waddell 1994: 11). Since the komusō monks, who were often masterless samurai (Takahashi
1990: 113), were also known for being rowdy and engaging in pastimes not suited to their
status, one could perhaps consider a general decline in Zen Buddhism and the lack of control
of the wandering komusō monks of the Fuke sect as related phenomena.
Another aspect which I cannot avoid mentioning here, although I will not deal with the
matter in this paper, is the thorough investigation performed by Yamada Shoji on Zen and art
(Yamada 2009). Titles like ‘Zen and the art of…’ are well known and began with Eugen
Herrigel’s Zen in the Art of Archery from 1948. According to Yamada, Herrigel hardly spoke
Japanese, and the most important moment of Zen Buddhist teaching to which he points is
taken from an event in which he was alone with his archery teacher. None of the other senior
archery students had received teachings in Zen Buddhist archery. In fact, archery and Zen
Buddhism were—according to Yamada—never mentioned together prior to the publication
(2009: 207). Yamada’s hypothesis is that a misunderstanding led to this belief in a strong
connection between Zen Buddhism and art. Yamada’s excellent and illuminating book is
recommended for further study to the interested reader. Although in the case of the
shakuhachi, a connection between Zen and the art of playing is undeniably present, I wish
there to point out that such connections between different art forms and Zen are not
necessarily innate in Japanese culture. Thus, the relationship between Zen and playing the
shakuhachi to be viewed as a thing sui generis, rather than an example of a general case.
My own journey in shakuhachi playing and meditation has been a long path. I did not – as
many fellow players – come to the shakuhachi through Zen Buddhism but rather through an
attraction to the timbre. Thus unfortunately I never listened carefully to my teacher Okuda
Atsuya’s explanation on the connection between the music and Zen Buddhist philosophy
during the eleven years I studied with him in Tokyo. I never thought it was strange that
meditation was never taught directly, although the history of the shakuhachi as being a
meditation tool in order to attain ichion jōbutsu (lit: Buddhahood in one note or
enlightenment though one note) is very important for players, as a large part of the
transmission is done wordlessly. Most of the many hours I practised with my teacher we
15
played together. I simply imitated his playing, and learned the musical vocabulary through
imitation. I believe I have played some of the melodies together with him more than hundred
times. Okuda would answer my questions and if we entered the realm of philosophy, he was
unstoppable. But the music was mostly transmitted wordlessly. An experience in Zen
Buddhist meditation at a temple on Yaku Island in Japan in 1996 supported this
understanding of transmission. During a several month stay, the only 4 instructions in
meditation I received the first morning were: ‘Sit here, face the wall, gaze here and empty
your mind’. Like many other shakuhachi players, I approach the notion of playing coupled
with meditation with curiosity – but had no instructions other than arcane ingredients in
Okuda’s teaching such as that the aim is to contain the universe in one single sound and to
succeed in the union of opposites. Okuda never elaborated on what he meant with the ‘union
of opposites’ other than that in musical terms he told me that extramusical sounds had to be
present when playing a musical sound and vice versa. The ‘union of opposites’ stayed with
me and has helped me since then in my search to combine shakuhachi playing and
meditation.
In the beginning when I attempted to add meditation to the act of playing, I aimed at being
mindful by trying firstly to focus on the breath. Focusing on the breath – inhaling through the
nose and exhaling through the mouth as much as possible in order to produce a sound. The
breath has a central role in honkyoku playing. It is the only rhythm, thus every player will
have his or her own rhythm or pulse.12 Focusing on the breath gave me a rhythmic sensation
that can be felt as a profound state of absorption similar to trance.13 Playing a piece that I had
assimilated to a degree that I need not think about what I was doing or about to do gave the
most satisfying results as the mind did not have to occupy directly with what to play. For
years I thought that this must be what meditation and playing was all about – a conclusion,
however, I came to question several years ago. Is this all? When I asked ethnomusicologst
and shakuhachi player Shimura Satoshi about meditation and playing, and why there are no
accounts of any shakuhachi player attaining ichion jōbutsu or enlightenment through playing
one note—to which he replied ‘Perhaps reaching satori (enlightenment) requires much more
12
Some shakuhachi schools such as Kinko and Tozan have a notation for rhythm while in others including the
school I have trained in did not have any indication of rhythm.
13
Trance is defined in Oxford Concise Dictionary as ‘a half-conscious state characterized by an absence of
response to external stimuli typically as induced by hypnosis or entered by a medium (Pearsall 2001:1521).
16
vigorous practice than shakuhachi playing’. I began to feel that the way I was approaching
meditation and playing was insufficient—in particularly if the aim in the past had been to
break through to the state of satori. I had no expectations of reaching satori; however, I did
feel a need for the training to be more vigorous.
I posted a call for descriptions on how people meditated and how meditating differed
from a state of flow to shakuhachi groups on Facebook, as the latter question was one of my
key dilemmata. Vit Rozkovec replied as following:
It seems to me, that we are talking about the same thing. To be very focused, in a
flow or to meditate, it seems like those things are the same. When taking it from
the Zen perspective, to be the one with the action you are doing, that is the state
when you meditate. There is no "I" doing it, there is just the activity
(www.facebook.com, accessed 05.10.14).
The above two examples seem to indicate that other players had similar experiences to my
own. Meditation became a deep sense of flow. I now felt, however, that this identity did not
suffice for my exploration into meditation and shakuhachi playing, I had to go deeper. Thus
in my own analysis of meditation and shakuhachi playing, I came to the next theme:
I stepped out on stage in St John’s Smith Square – a high profile venue in London.
The audience was clapping, the large choir sat down at the back of the stage in
order to give the soloist—me—the stage on my own. When the clapping ceased, I
brought the flute to my lips and began playing a honkyoku. At a given moment
during the performance, I realised the music was flowing out of me effortlessly,
without thought and beyond my control. The latter frightened me as I became
aware that I had no idea which note I had just played and which note I was moving
17
to next – something of which I usually have full control. In a subtle panic, I tested
several strategies in order to remember where in the piece I was. I then understood
I had to let go of my eagerness to know the place in the music – otherwise it would
inhibit the flow and I will not be able to play. I played on and suddenly I noticed,
my normal focused mind had taken over, and I knew exactly where in the music I
was.
The above is a description of a concert situation on 13 March 2008. I would consider this
experience to be an example of flow and not meditation although there are certain similarities.
According to Mihály Csíkszentmihályi, flow is a mental state of complete immersion in an
activity in which concentration is focused on a challenge suitable to the person’s skills. It
gives the protagonist a loss of reflective self-consciousness and a distorted temporal but
rewarding and positive experience (Csíkszentmihályi 1990). The largest discrepancy between
flow and meditation for this project lies in the complete immersion in an activity and the loss
of reflective self-consciousness. Due to my training in mindfulness meditation, I find this
experience to be lacking the aspect of witnessing awareness required for it to be called
‘meditation’. Although it is clear from the description above that I was aware of the flow, I
was nonetheless not conscious my own awareness. I am immersed in the awareness, which
itself is blind for me. Thus the total immersion and thereby self-forgetfulness and the
awareness of being aware are the key aspects of the difference between the two. However, I
do find flow, as described above – to be necessary – if not sufficient - for meditation when
playing. The deep immersion and focus is the concentration part of the meditation – the next
step for me was to practice letting go of the immersion into what I was doing and adding the
witness function.
In the beginning of 2012, I began to work with the breath as a means to transmit the quality
of stillness I experienced while trying to play and meditate. I worked with the visualisation of
a flow entering me from above my head down into the breath and out through the heart and
the shakuhachi. With this approach I would literally blow empathy through the instrument out
to the audience or the world in general. This way I was able to train the ability of feeling
compassion towards others and to some degree feeling a deeper sense of contemplation and
18
presence in my existence (see Bertelsen 2010, Risom 2013, Rigtrup 2009 on empathy and
mindfulness). I taught this method of training compassion at some masterclasses in Kiev,
Ukraine during November 2012. I was pleased to see that even some flute students from the
Tchaikovsky National Academy of Music came for a second masterclass as they were curious
about this approach. I realised compassion was indeed universal.
However, I still had some steps to take before I felt I had an idea of how shakuhachi
playing and mindfulness meditation could be executed simultaneously. That is when I began
consciously to add witness awareness to playing. I realised early on that real immersion and
flow is more likely to take place when a honkyoku piece was fully memorised and assimilated
I thus practised adding witness awareness when I realised I was in a certain quality of flow. In
order to get into the state of flow while playing a piece I had mastered. I began playing after
first sitting for perhaps five minutes in quiet stillness, focusing on the breath. This practice
may lead to a sensation of flow and to this I applied the compassion method described above,
which led to an increase in energy level. Finally then I would apply witness awareness, which
led to a panoramic state of being as described by Risom (2013: 63, 155). At some given
moment, I felt the contemplation level had reached a level similar to that I had reached during
quiet sitting meditation – which was a gain for my musical practice.
When I began to be able to—with a certain amount of effort—to draw witnessing awareness
into my musical practice, I experienced it as an a perception of something inherent in
shakuhachi playing and as if it had been ‘the missing link’. However, maitaining witnessing
awareness for any length of time was no easy task ; soon I would discover that I was back
into my usual focused flow mode of attention – totally immersed in playing, sound
production and judging whether the sound was good nor not.
The honkyoku piece Shin kyorei (真虚霊), as taught in Okuda Atsuya’s Zensabō style), is
to be played almost at an inaudible level or pianissimo. Playing at such a low volume had
always made me generate bodily heat – some times I even had to go outside in snowy
weather dressed in T-shirt, in order to cool down. While practising mindfulness and playing
as described above, I realised Shin kyorei could be used to increase the energy level, which
19
could be directed into the meditation practice. Thus from April 2014, I included this piece in
my daily practice. I only applied mindfulness meditation after I had played it for a while
since I had forgotten the piece and needed the score to play. The more I incorporated the
piece into my being, the better I was able to apply mindfulness while playing and this
intensified the experience of the already augmented energy level due to bodily heat. In an
entry in my diary on 18 July 2014, I wrote about experiencing a phenomenon of expansion of
the already expanded panoramic state in mindfulness meditation. I observed that with the
focusing on breathing and the sound produced, the mind’s conceptual rigidity relaxed in an
efficient way; thus I was able to observe the subtle changes of energy levels. I noticed the
gradual establishment of quiescence that allowed insights I remained aware of – a contrast to
many insights regarding the flow state experienced during the concert in St John’s Smith
Square, which were generated by an elicitation interview14 conducted by Ninni Sødahl on 26
September 2014.
Slowly, while working with Shin kyorei, I began to grasp the role of music in meditation
from within. My confusion had been that I had taken the music too seriously – in the sense of
being self-absorbed, adding a value to it that only had the aim of honouring my ego.
Ansuman Biswas formulates it exquisitely.
Once I grasped the above, I felt that I had overcome one large barrier to the exploration of
mindfulness and shakuhachi playing at multiple levels of consciousness. It furthermore
allowed me to work more freely with energy. I had long also worked with the piece Nerisaji
(練薩慈), a honkyoku piece played very energetically in the Zensabō style – to the degree it
may be called violent. Here, I had been inspired by a teaching session of Jes Bertelsen15 in
14
Elicitation interview technique is a method aimed at collecting precise descriptions of a lived experience
associated with a cognitive process, developed by Claire Petitmengin (see Petitmengin 2006).
15
Jes Bertelsen (1946-) is a meditation teacher trained in the Tibetan Dzogchen tradition and the founder of
20
which he encouraged us to bring our entire being—including the negative aspects—into the
meditation. With the violent blasts of air, I had previously described by using natural
metaphors such as storm, volcanic eruption and tsunami waves to my students, I began
contacting my less flattering sides – sides I preferred to hide in order to sustain a more
favourable self image. I tried to bring the blasts of air to the maximum pressure my lungs
could exert through the instrument while contacting my bestial sides, the violence I contain in
me and negative emotions, I’d rather go without – of which the resulting sound became a raw
uncensored vibration and expression. Contacting bestial sides made me retrace evolution and
sensing I was getting closer to the primal origin or as Biswas formulates as ‘integrating
rational awareness with the animal body’ (2011: 102). I stretched the music and I played
Nerisaji even more raw and violent than Watazumi Dōsō Rōshi’s versions16 at some sections
while more quietly than I had learned by Okuda at others. I included a larger ma (間) – an
important concept in Japanese arts, literally meaning interval or pause in the sense of vacuus
plenus—ma is as important as the sound. If I managed to remain aware of witnessing during
these violent gusts of sound, I could bring in a sensation of an expanding stillness during ma.
This ma felt more complete due to the attention of bringing in all aspects of me including
negativity, and I experienced myself playing as a microcosm of the world. I remembered the
words Okuda had repeatedly told me during lessons: ‘Play your shakuhachi so that one sound
contains the whole universe’. These words suddenly resonated more with me than ever.
I wrote in a diary entry on 2 August 2014: ‘Clearly sensing when I fall out of the witness
function and can easier use my will to bring myself back again’. My shakuhachi playing and
mindfulness meditation had clearly begun to take the shape of an average meditation session
on my cushion. And, as on the cushion, I found myself again and again being fascinated by
various phenomena including a fascination with my own sound. Then there was nothing else
to do than bringing myself back a mindful attitude to myself, my ‘failure’ of having forgotten
and to the playing.
21
7. Getting out into the world
I have previously taught mindfulness and shakuhachi playing at festivals. However when I
taught at the nunnery Weltkloster in Radolfzell, Germany 19–22 June 2014, I felt I had much
more substance to teach and also personal experience that is important when transmitting
knowledge. I no longer felt at the border of my knowledge when teaching. I choose two
easier pieces, Kyorei (quiet) and Sō shingetsu (fierce), that would be played in the manner of
Shin kyorei and Nerisaji, but which were not as technically demanding. I was very satisfied
with the fact that I could transmit the idea of two different ways of building energy up for
meditation, and playing in a state of objective awareness. The quiet Kyorei caused more
difficulties than the fierce Sō shingetsu.
On 28 August 2014, I played a short solo concert at the Mind & Life Research Institute at yet
another nunnery on Farueninsel Island in Chiemsee Lake, Germany. It was a long conference
lasting 5 full days, which required me to travel the day before to the island and travell home
the day after. It had a quasi-retreat format, with Fred von Allmen, Tsoknyi Rinpoche and
Martine Batchelor instructing meditation sessions. There was even a day in silent
contemplation (http://esri.mindandlife-europe.org, accessed 08.10.14). Thus despite the
papers on mostly neuroscience, the participants constituted of meditating scientists. For the
concert, I had boldly written in the programme that I was going to meditate while playing.
Although I modified it when I presented myself, I tried my best to combine mindfulness
meditation and playing. I played four pieces including Shin kyorei and Nerisaji. I believe that
due to the training I had recently gone through, the quality of flow was entirely different from
that of the concert at St John’s Smith Square. My particular body and breath, space, time and
this particular audience made certain moments feel intensively as the music was a vibration
of this embodied moment. And with the mindfulness added to the ma—an open space without
audible sound – ‘the unstruck sound, the vibration that is below the threshold of hearing
(Biswas 2011: 102) – only the attitude of listening to sounds remained. This enabled me to
become more aware of subtle motions of the mind and remain aware that I was aware – until
I fell out and had to shorten the pieces to adapt to a shorter time span than planned. I then lost
control of time and piece as I did at St John’s Smith Square. However, this time I was aware
of it and voluntarily renounced the control. And exactly here, I felt I had a glimpse of
22
mindfulness meditation and shakuhachi – the voluntarily release of control. I furthermore felt
I had a taste of mindfulness meditation and shakuhachi music being in circulation with an
attentive audience— in moments of shared consciousness. Thus this concert in Fraueninsel
was an important milestone in my search to investigate meditation as conducted by the
komusō monks.
I also felt I had taken a small step towards an understanding of the flute player in the poem
by Hafiz on page 1—but know I am still far from it.
Despite the title of this section, I do not claim to be a komusō or the like. The title is meant to
reflect on what we can learn from an experiment of adding mindfulness meditation to the act
of playing shakuhachi and whether we can make any assumption on how the komusō monks
may have approached their meditation task. Although the mendicant komusō monks are the
most well known monks of the Fuke sect, and the jujishoku or senior monks, who were the
resident heads of the komusō temples scattered around Japan are less known, they may be the
most interesting for the purpose of reflecting on meditation and shakuhachi. They were
supposed to be fully ordained Buddhist priests (Sanford 1977: 424). After a decline in Zen
Buddhism, the words of masters such as Takuan and Hakuin must have excited and inspired
them. I imagine—since the jujishoku had gone through Buddhist training—that they must
have had a meditation practice as well as a daily temple routines. The quote from Takuan ‘He
can see good and bad clearly without the mind discriminating between good and bad’
together with the contemplative experiences during this practice based experiment has
answered one of the key questions of which I was previously unaware. I realised that when
the player hears the good and bad notes—although remaining neutral to the sounds—he or
she can make subtle changes comparable with subtle corrections to any meditation practice,
without, however, leaving the musicality behind. In the voluntary renunciation of control, the
awareness is so present that musicality has transcended to another level than what I had
hitherto experienced. I realised that music is creating a space in which a large range of
emotions can be activated. As in the Nerisaji described above, I was able to contact negative
23
aspects of my emotional life in which I almost felt like a beast—and combining mindfulness
meditation and shakuhachi playing allowed me to practice the attitude of feeling emotions
without acting on it as all is happening under controlled conditions. ‘In music, since there I
no substantive danger or reward, no real-life object or hate or desire, the emotion can be
observed in itself, as a bodily fact’ (Biswas 2011: 108). When realising this and the
renunciation of the self-absorbed musicality, playing music becomes an efficient space for
meditation practice. Thus I believe I have indeed found answers to some of the questions I
had in mind before embarking on this project. Questions regarding how to attain the delicate
balance between maintaining a non-judgemental attention on the sound I produce, while
accepting the present moment and thereby the sounds to be as they are—and still produce
sounds that are musical, in order to draw listeners into the musical sound worlld. I have
grasped more than I thought possible. Whether it is possible for me to frame an hypothesis on
how the komusō or the jujishoku approached meditation and shakuhachi playing, I am unable
to say; I can only say I have caught a glimpse of it. I suspect I shall have to continue working
for some years from this stage and stabilise a practice before I dare make any conjectures.
24
Glossary
Bakufu (幕府) is the term used for the government or administration under the military feudal
ruler shōgun during three dynasties: Minamoto, Ashikaga, and Tokugawa, which lasted
from late late 13th century until 1867.
Edo period (1603–1867), a period of relative peace governed by Tokugawa. It was also the
period of seclusion from the outside world.
Fukeshū (普化宗): Zen Buddhist sect under the Rinzai school. The shakuhachi playing
komusō monks were initiated members of the sect, which solely admitted men of samurai
rank. The sect was recognised during the early Edo period (1614) and the sect was
abolished 1871 by the Meiji government.
Gaikyoku (外曲): lit.: Outside pieces [of music]. The term used by the Fuke sect to describe
pieces that were not honkyoku and thereby by definition secular and not sacred music
prohibited for the komusō to play.
Gagaku (雅楽): Japanese court music. The music originated in China during the Tang dynasty
(618–907). It was imported to Japan in the 8th century from Korea.
Hitoyogiri (一節切): A short one node flute, considered to be the link between the gagaku
shakuhachi and the komusō shakuhachi. They were popular from the 14th century till the
beginning of the 19th century.
Hōki (法器): Lit: Tool of the Dharma. Often translated as sacred tool. In this case, the
shakuhachi was considered as hōki and not a musical instrument.
Honkyoku (本曲): lit.: Original pjeces. The pieces in the repertoire created by komusō monks
during the Edo period as meditation and for mendicancy.
Honsoku (本則): rules. Here a set of rules issued to the komusō monks.
Ichion jōbustu (一音成仏): Lit: One sound becoming a Buddha. An important saying for
shakuhachi players during the Edo period as well as today. It is said to be the aim of
shakuhachi playing to reach enlightenment with the single tone that encompasses the
whole universe.
Kōan (公案): Zen Buddhist question, story, dialogue to be used to create doubt. Also used to
monitor the progress of a student.
25
Komusō (虚無僧) lit.: Monks of nothingness. The monks, of the Fuke sect, who played
shakuhachi as a meditation tool.
Meiji-period: 1868–1912, the period of modernisation of Japan into a democracy and a player
on the international stage.
Myōanji Temple: A small temple in the compounds of Tōhoku-ji in Kyoto, which serves as
the headquarters for Myōan Kyōkai (society) today. The Myōan style today represents
most of the styles of shakuhachi playing, which are not categorised under the two main
secular schools (Kinko and Tozan).
Samurai (侍) or bushi (武士): Military nobility of medieval and early-modern Japan.
Sarugaku: (猿楽): Early nō theatre popular between 11th and 14th century.
Suizen (吹禅): lit.: Blowing Zen or meditation playing shakuhachi. A word that is engraved in
a Stone at Myōanji temple, Kyoto, Japan. According to ethnomusicologist Tsukitani
Tsuneko, it is a word that did not appear before early 20th century.
Tengai (天蓋): Reed hood shaped as a basket, worn by the wandering komusō monks,
covering the whole face from around 19th century.
Zazen: (座禅) lit.: Sitting Zen or the meditation practice performed in Zen Buddhism.
26
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Discography
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http://esri.mindandlife-europe.org
30
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Historical sign, designating the Rôgen-ji ruins as Izu City cultural property,
posted by the Izu City Educational Division (March 25, 1999). Photograph by the author.
dependent inner sanctuary. Its secretive location right next to the waterfall was
perfect for spiritual contemplation.
The shrine, Ôdaira Jinja, was built much later, in 1860, to the side of the
waterfall and has little to do with the history of Rôgen-ji.
The Fuke sect of shakuhachi playing Zen monks was officially established
in the late 17 century. Their mission in Edo Japan was to strive for enlighten-
th
ment through playing the shakuhachi and learn various set pieces known as
honkyoku. Before the sect became officially organized, however, its members
consisted mostly of a motley mob of beggars who played the shakuhachi and
wandered the country. They needed a place to gather, sleep, and practice
shakuhachi, so convincing local temples to become Fuke sect related temples
(fuke-dera) was an obvious solution.
Since Rôgen-ji had been long abandoned, it was easy for the wandering
komusô monks of the time to use it as a residence, much like a present day
squatter might inhabit a derelict building. The location was ideal, as the temple
was set apart from the main road by a waterfall but close enough to the sur-
rounding villages to get support from the locals. Soon, other komusô monks
joined in to create a small community. They were in need of leadership and di-
rection, however, and records show that Rôgen-ji’s first permanent abbot, Ippû
3
Ôshô, came to live there sometime around 1716. After that, there was a succes-
sion of abbots, but there were also periods when Rôgen-ji had no resident priest.
Even today, there are temples and shrines, especially in rural Japan, that cannot
afford to support a full-time priest, and these temples lie fallow for years with
just the bare minimum of upkeep.
Next to the Rôgen-ji temple ruins are a set of seven gravestones, shaped
like elongated bird’s eggs sticking out of the ground. From the inscription on
these stones, together with records kept in the nearby affiliate temple Kinryû-ji,
it seems that Rôgen-ji had a total of ten abbots over a period of 160 years. These
records also indicate that the last abbot, Kaiga, had to contend with the enor-
mous upheaval in society and the demise of the Fuke Sect occasioned by the
Meiji Restoration in 1868, but more about that later.
According to one account, by the end of the 17 century there were sup-
th
posedly over 120 Fuke Temples throughout Japan, although there are no precise
records of individual names. Once the Fuke sect became organized, it tended
toward exclusiveness, aimed for respectability and weeded out the riff-raff.
This would have been necessary in order for the Fuke sect to be recognized as
an official religion by the Tokugawa government, which it did in 1677.
Edo Period documents are not always accurate, and the early twentieth
century scholar, Nakatsuka Chikuzen, compiled all the information regarding
komosô temples which ever existed and came up with a list of 77, which he
sorted according to the sects listed in the archives at Myôan-ji temple in Kyoto,
which was the head Fuke Temple. Rôgen-ji is on that list.
It is difficult to know for sure what occurred in the komosô temples during
their heyday—and Rôgen-ji did seem to be an important one—but there is some
indication from historical sources. The daily life for monks in Zen tem-
ples—then and now—is very structured and revolves around a schedule of rit-
ual: the intonation of prayers according to the time of day, meal-taking,
work-related activities, sutra chanting, long sitting sessions of zazen and lec-
tures or individual sessions by the head priest.
It was the same for the komosô temples, except instead of sitting meditation,
the shakuhachi became the focus of the monks’ attention. Prayers were replaced
by shakuhachi meditative honkyoku pieces, and zazen, which literally means just
“sitting Zen,” was replaced by suizen, which indicates “blowing Zen,” or the
4
attainment of enlightenment through breath and sound. Again at night, after
their daily training finished, the monks played honkyoku to mark the time and
occasion.
Zen meditation is something one can practice through any activity, but
blowing the shakuhachi, with its need to concentrate on the body, breath and
posture, is particularly conducive to meditative awareness.
The komusô monks were required to go begging periodically. This meant
going out into the community to gather alms, either food or money, from the
townspeople. This is common in Buddhist countries, and although now rela-
tively rare in Japan, the practice is still widely followed in other such Buddhist
countries as Thailand or Sri Lanka. Begging is thought to be a sacred activity
and provide ‘merit’ for both the beggar and the person giving alms.2 It was
also a way for the komusô to make a living.
The komusô had a very elaborate uniform that
consisted of kimono, a brocade sash, arm guards
and leggings and, most importantly, the deep,
tengai straw hat that covered their whole head. The
tengai assured anonymity, but it also provided a
sense of a powerful and mysterious oth-
er-worldliness to the monks and, I suspect, exerted
a kind psychological pressure on the simple coun-
try folk to force them to provide alms.
There is a phenomena in present day Japan,
Typical komusô costume of the late Edo Period. kosu-purei where men and woman wear the costume
(Drawing by Abe Tomio).
and mien of various characters: school girls, wait-
resses, samurai, etc. Like donning a mask, it allows
the individual to subsume the identity (and hence, power or sexuality) of
something other than themselves. Nowadays it is done as divertissement and
distraction, but one can see the impetus of this desire in such activities as the
ancient masked drama and komusô monks.
During their pilgrimages, the komusô monks obviously couldn’t hold a
begging bowl since they had to use their hands to play the shakuhachi. So in-
stead of using a bowl, they hung a wooden box for alms around their neck
5
written with the kanji “Myôan” (“light-dark”). This was in reference to the head
Fuke temple, Myôan-ji, in Kyoto. Myôan refers to a shibboleth, found in the 17 th
century Kyotaku Denki Kokuji-tai, that all komusô monks held dear: Myōtō rai,
myōtō da. Antō rai, Antō da. This passage, originally from the Annals of Rin-
zai—the teachings of the 8 Century Chinese monk Linji Yixuan (Rinzai in Jap-
th
anese)—literally translates as “If light comes I will strike it. If dark comes I will
strike it.” It is an admonition not to be deceived by duality or differences.
As within the temple, the monks played certain pieces outside according
to the situation. Like the urban ice cream truck that plays its distinctive melody
when entering a neighborhood, the komusô monks informed the locals of their
presence in the area by performing a piece called Tôri as they walked along the
paths or Kadozuke at street corners. Hachigaeshi (“Returning the Bowl”) was
performed as a kind of thank-you piece when the monk was given alms. When
two komusô met while begging, it was customary to play the piece Yobi Take
(“Bamboo Call”) or Uke Take (“Bamboo Answer”). When on the road and wish-
ing to stay in a komusô temple, they played Hirakimon or Monbiraki (“Open the
Gate”) to gain entrance. Practice and etiquette probably differed from temple to
temple but were basically the
same.
There was also a
business aspect to their ac-
tivities, and the komusô
monks could be quite ter-
ritorial. Official edicts
called tomeba seisatsu—
complete with the official
seal of the head Myôan
6
consisted of disenfranchised samurai who knew how to wield a shakuhachi as
if it were a sword.
Not surprisingly, the komusô monks required a license, called honsoku, to
beg. It was, after all, a money-making activity and the period bureaucrats
needed to keep tabs on them.
There is a honsoku for a komusô monk named Yûryû who lived at Rôgen-ji,
dated the 2nd year of Kyoho (1717), affixed with the seal by Bokusui, the tem-
ple’s fourth Abbot (d. 1750).
Apparently the honsoku, like present day driver’s licenses, had to be re-
newed periodically, especially when the abbot changed. We can also see
Yûryû’s renewal certificate, called zokuin, which was stamped by Rôgen-ji’s
successive abbots, ending with Tôkai Shikei around 1758. Although we have
proof of his existence, whatever happened to Yûryû—where his pilgrimages led
him, what pieces he learned, how he played the shakuhachi and when he
died—unfortunately we will never know.
Honsoku license conferred to the anonymous komusô monk Yûryû. (Courtesy of Hosshin-ji)
We can speculate about one piece he must have learned, however. In ad-
dition to the ceremonial pieces that all komusô knew, each temple had their spe-
cialty piece, and monks traveled from temple to temple throughout the land to
learn these pieces.
Rôgen-ji’s specialty piece, purportedly composed by one of its abbots, was
the aforementioned Taki Otoshi no Kyoku—the “Water-Falling Piece.”3
It is not known which abbot at Rôgen-ji “composed” this piece, but it is
important to realize that none of the shakuhachi honkyoku were actually com-
posed. Rather, they are a collection of accepted and already known melodic
fragments put together in new combinations. As is true with almost all Japanese
traditional music, shakuhachi honkyoku consist of set forms, called kata (or in
Japanese musical parlance, onkei), and these pieces, regardless of lineage or style,
7
sound, at the molecular level, pretty much the same. It is the imagination and
life experience of the player that brings life to the piece. The honkyoku are often
inspired by natural phenomena, religious ceremony and imagery or animals.
Presently, there exist multiple versions of Taki Otoshi no Kyoku, from the
highly refined version of the Kinko School to the plaintive, soulful renditions
handed down through the Myôan Temple lineages (Shinpo, Taizan and Seian
styles; where it is called Takiochi). In all lineages except the Shinpô style, the
piece maintains basically the same structure and melody. The Shinpô version
has a similar structure but a significantly different melody.
For all except dedicated scholars and performers, however, this is splitting
hairs. What is important is how it the piece sounds to us today and conveys the
essence of the waterfall.
The Asahi Falls pours forth from a steep, 100 meter high mountain right
behind Rôgen-ji ruins. It doesn’t “fall” as much as it cascades in about six clear-
ly definable sections. The rock in these mountains consists of extremely hard
columnar basalt that originated from the numerous volcanoes that form the
backbone of the Izu Peninsula.
The water slowly follows the contours of the stream above. As it ap-
proaches the falls, the pitch of the slope steepens and the flow picks up speed.
Flying over the nick point, the waters bounce and splash upon the descending
flat surfaces of the basalt, making very distinctive sounds. Gurgling and ripping,
tinkling and chiming—the water on the rock explodes into an array of natural
tones as it makes its way downhill. If the tones were visible, I suspect they
would appear as a very subtle but quick and lively rainbow against the lush
green of the verdant mountainside.
The structure of this piece begins like the waterfall: slowly, with simple,
melodic fragments. It builds in intensity and suddenly, in the second half of the
piece, the melody jumps up to the higher octave. The music mirrors the rushing
waters as they gain speed and force, tearing away relentlessly at the unyielding
rocks. Finally, the piece fades away in a subtle silence.
I learned both the simpler Myôan version and the more complex Kinko
versions of this piece. I first visited the falls in 1976 and was awed by the natu-
ral beauty of the surroundings, but I had no idea (or technique) on how to actu-
ally make the piece sound like a waterfall. My Myôan teacher, Okamoto
8
Chikugai, offered a very succinct and descriptive metaphor on how to interpret
the piece. He told me that the piece must begin with high and powerful sounds,
while pointing out that this waterfall was a “male” waterfall, and the shakuha-
chi must capture this masculine essence. But near the end, the tones must natu-
rally die down, and the final notes must “gurgle” like the water itself, ending,
as he put it, in a very feminine way.
Yamaguchi Goro, my Kinko teacher, on the other hand, did not usually
give instructions on how to interpret pieces, but in the liner notes to a CD com-
pilation of the Kinko honkyoku, he describes his interpretive approach. “The
gentle flow of the water suddenly changes as it goes over the waterfall. It
splashes against the rocks and sprays, flows downward through the crevices
and into the pool below, foaming in whirlpools. Then the waters continue on as
a gentle stream. I think of those thousands of manifestations of water as I ap-
proach this piece. I also think how this could also be a metaphor describing the
life of a human.”4
These two very different approaches epitomize the stylistic differences
between the Myôan and Kinko schools as well as the differences in interpreta-
tion by the individual player. I felt that with the Myôan version (Takiochi), I
needed to become one with the waterfall and imagine myself as the waters fall-
ing, while with the Kinko version (Takiotoshi), it was all about executing the
beautifully complex and subtle ornamentations that adorn the piece in a musi-
cal paean to the waterfall’s natural beauty.
These interpretive differences in approach became much clearer to me
when I made another visit to the Asahi Falls almost four decades later in 2014.
It is easy to lose oneself in the beauty of magnificent natural phenomena, like a
waterfall. Standing in awe in front of it induces a kind of bliss bordering on the
ecstatic and leads us into other worlds and new possibilities. But at the same
time, we realize the need to discipline ourselves to in order to share this expe-
rience. One interpretation of the piece leads us inward to the essence of the wa-
terfall while the other leads us back out where we create (or attempt to create)
something that can stand alone as one artist’s response to the phenomena. 5
As a composition, Takiotoshi no Kyoku traveled westward from Izu to Ha-
mamatsu—where there was a larger, more established Fuke temple called Fu-
tai-ken—on to Ise, Kyoto and further west to Kyushu. It also made its way to
9
northern Japan and became part of the repertory of the Kinpû style of
shakuhachi playing in Aomori. This piece is presently one of the mainstays of
traditional shakuhachi music and one of the first honkyoku taught to students.
Although the waterfall and the music lives on, Rôgen-ji itself is long gone.
The last abbot of Rôgen-ji, Kaiga, arrived in Rôgen-ji around 1860 after a fif-
ty-year hiatus with no head priest. The temple had fallen into disarray and its
monks become unruly, but Kaiga restored order to the temple and discipline to
its komusô. Their new abbot was young, but as the son of one of the feared
Shôgun’s hatamoto elite vassals, he commanded respect. Kaiga also was held in
esteem as the abbot of the main Kantô komusô temple, Reihô-ji in Ome. After
arriving at Rôgen-ji around 1860, he began working to put it back in order.
Rôgen-ji’s renewal was short lived, however. In 1868, the Tokugawa gov-
ernment fell and the Meiji Restoration began. The Meiji leaders took quick ac-
tion to dismantle the old Tokugawa institutions, and Kaiga could see the writ-
ing on the wall. Without the protection of the Tokugawa shôgun, the Fuke sect
and its mendicant komusô monks could no longer go about their activities. To
the new Meiji reformers, they were outlaws and unwanted reminders of the
feudal past.
In 1871, the new Meiji government officially outlawed the Fuke sect and
the komusô, but before the law could be applied, Kaiga dismantled Rôgen-ji and
safely stored its treasures (consisting of two Buddhist statues, Kan’on and
Fudô) at the nearby Kinryû-ji temple. His work finished at Rôgen-ji, Kaiga then
took off on the winding roads leading back to Tokyo, the city once known as
Edo. He was never heard from again.
References:
• TOMINOMORI Kyozan, Zuisômanhitsu,Taki Otoshi [Thoughts on Takiotoshi] (Tokyo Myôankyozan
Bô Dôyûkai, 1975).
• TOMINOMORI Kyozan, Myôan Shakuhachi Tsûkai [An Explanation of Myôan Shakuhachi] (Tokyo
Myôankyozan Bô Dôyûkai, 1974).
• NAKATSUKA Chikuzen, Konki-ryû Shakuhachi Shikan [A Personal View of the Kinko Shakuhachi]
(Nihon Ongaku-sha, Tokyo, 1979).
• BLASDEL Christopher Yohmei & KAMISANGÔ Yûkô, The Shakuhachi—A Manual for Learning.
(Printed Matter Press, Tokyo, 2008).
• Reproduction of komusô honsoku license courtesy of Gekkai Bunkô, Hosshin-ji Temple, Tokyo.
• YAMAGUCHI Goro, Shakuhachi no Shinzui, Shakuhachi Honkyoku [Honkyoku: The Soul of the
Shakuhachi] (liner notes, VZCG 8066-8077, Victor Zaidan, Tokyo, 1999).
1
Some contemporary shakuhachi scholars (Tsukitani, Kamisangô, Kojima) mention Ryûsen-ji as Izu’s komusô
10
temple. In fact, it was Rôgen-ji. The confusion arises in part from the similarities in the kanji rendition of their names
(Ryûsen-ji 龍泉寺 and Rôgen-ji 瀧源寺). Furthermore, these same sources mistakenly combine kanji from both tem-
ple names and call it Ryûgen-ji (龍源寺), further obfuscating the issue.
2
Another name for Rôgen-ji is Kudoku-zan, or “Merit-making Temple.”
3
There is another Izu-related piece found in the Kinko Style shakuhachi honkyoku repertory, Izu Reibo. This piece,
also associated with Rôgen-ji Temple, belongs to a series of numerous Reibo (鈴慕, “yearning for the bell”) pieces,
all associated with a specific locale (Kyûshû Reibo, Kyô Reibo, Yoshino Reibo, Igusa Reibo, etc). The yearning aspect
refers to an 8th century T’ang period monk and the Fuke Sect‘s namesake, Fuke, who wandered the city streets of
Chang’An, ringing a bell to urge instant enlightenment. The Fuke Sect followers yearned for and tried to imitate the
sound of the bell with the shakuhachi.
4
YAMAGUCHI Goro, Shakuhachi no Shinzui, Shakuhachi Honkyoku, pg.20.
5
In Japanese, there is a significant difference in the nuance of the two words taki otoshi and taki ochi. Taki of
course refers to the waterfall, but otoshi is the nominative of the verb otosu, “to drop,” i.e. as in the active tense “to
drop” something. Ochi, on the other hand, is from ochiru, denoting a passive sense in which “something falls.”
Something so obscure as whether the title is in the active or passive voice would normally make no difference, but,
some performers/scholars, like Tominomori Kyozan, claim that, on the contrary, it makes all the difference because it
determines the method of musical interpretation: whether the performer should try to present or merely represent the
experience of the waterfall.
11
Presented to
In Partial Fulfillment
Master of Arts
January# 1970
DM I Number: EP54770
In the unlikely event that the author did not send a complete manuscript
and there are missing pages, these will be noted. Also, if material had to be removed,
a note will indicate the deletion.
DissertationF^bhsWrig
UMI EP54770
Published by ProQuest LLC (2014). Copyright in the Dissertation held by the Author.
Microform Edition © ProQuest LLC.
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U N IV E R S ITY PARK
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..............
under the direction of h±s....Thesis Com m ittee,
and approved by a l l its members, has been p r e
sented to and accepted by the D e a n of T h e
G raduate School, in p a r t ia l fu lfillm e n t of the
requirements f o r the degree of
MASTER OF ARTS
Dgan
DECEMBER, 1969
D ate .................
THESIS COMMITTEE
hairmaitn
kas
O.
Copyright 1970 by Takeshi Shindo
1
emsm#
ii
jthe Fuke-Zen religion throughout Japan by playing the
ill
later books ares (Sachs# Curt# Real-Lexlkon der MusikInstrur
view with the ^^oan School priest in the Tofuku temple; the
record.
conveying-Chinese-culture-in-an-asslmilated-form* Chapter-li
iv
deals with the history# manufacture# and types of the
IM
/ d development of their musical tradition* Chapter V pre
Acknowledgment s
vii
TABia OF c o m E m g
Page
LIST W PimM$ ■ X.
I. HISTORICAL mcmmwmB . . . . . . . . . . . i
Chinese influence on Early Japanese Music
Source of .Ancient Music in Japan
II. THE s m K u m c a i . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . • ■.
The Origin of the .Shakuhachi
The Shakuhachi' in Japan
The Shakuhachi at the Turn of the Twentieth
Century
Construction of the Shakuhachi
Principal Différences in the Types of Shaku
hachi
The Contemporary Shakuhachi
Pitch
III. THE W W m SECT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
viii
Chapter
W S I C A m M W I C A L NOTATIONS
BIBLIÔGRÀfHY 64
ix
LIST OF wmrns
Page
I. Meiam society, %#to ■xii
VII# " K o k u re iW , * # # * * . . * * * * * . 41
K
LISf OF ILLOifmriONS
Figure page
I* Map of Kyoto 33
а. Chart Showing the Western Note Equivalent of
■Shakuhachi -Calligraphy * # * * 48
XT
M
w
W
g
H
M
S
I m
H
ttî
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en
H
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xii
CHAPTER I
HISTORICAL BACKGROUNDS
in the years 360 to 390 they were very active and influ
bassies which had been sent since 630 to the Wang courts,
Japan was able to pattern the new capital at Nara in 710
after cti'anfan, which was under Wang rule, in 720, two
5
Koiiki or Furukotobumi. Compiled by Yasumaro One
from the recollections of an old woman Hiedm no Are, then
65 years old, the work began, in 711, it forms three volumes
and extends from the creation to the end of the reign of
Empress Buiko (628 A.D.). B. fapinot. History and Geography'
of Japan. (Yokohama; 1909), p. 297.
continued to 887 by the addition of five other histories '
PLATE III
THE SHAKÜHACHI
vertically played bamboo flutes, cut and made from the stump
of a bamboo tree.
is >
#■
»»•-j
Ï-1 4)
'if
I
•il
 It
changes.4
below the knot was seven sun (about 8.3 inches), and the
length above the knot was three and seven-tenths sun (about
1573), the Chinese priest Roan from South China, who estab
lished the Puke sect temple about 1475, may have also
ment, and its, use- was restricted until ISIl* When there was
hot from the cultivated trees, but from those found growing
below the surface of the ground and five feet above it. The'
season for cutting the trees lasted only from the end of i
Itimes, the bamboo had the tendency to crack, with the result-
Ithat the sound produced was light and weak# Horses trans- i
bin to dry fo.r about a year, the poles being brought indoors,
!only during rainy weather. At the end of the first year,
ithe bamboo poles were dried in the hot sun for approximately
17
four months. After the wood was thoroughly dry, only two
of conatruotion,
First., the knots were cut and cleaned inside and out,
which, called for the painter to refrain from eating fish an<5.
Principal. Differences..in.
.the Tvoes of Shakuhachi #—
from the flutes of the later Einko and Tosan Schools, which
flutes are made in one piece, like the dosyo, but the Kinko
profit.
to 14 *1 inches).
Myoan Temple, Kyorei being the name of the first Puke musicj
Myo and ^ were derived from the first word of the titles
3
E* Papinot, History and Geography of Japan
Î 1909), p. 106.
, p. 656.
7T ffl^AUA t
Kamigamo
Shrine
KYOTO TAKARA6AIKE
^ Botanical Garden
Ki>flWup.0iiiYî
Kinkakmi
il Shimot^
nTcxtiie
Muséum Ooshrsya
•u nvcrsiw
E 6inkakuji
ÜADEBAWA^ DOjf/ ^ Q
IMPERIAL
fflMlGYa PALACE « Kyoto i>^ivcrsiLy
M y»hinji -
Chion-in
UKYO T KU T3saka Shnne
M
.nam
iza
Kiyomizu
Q 1AN6ASUCHI
H}GflSHrYPMQ-KU
K ïfe National Uuse«
L J 's smcHUD \ dor
N N * @ * m W Villa
Ll^:U
KUJO ooRim ■\?e é
JUJO
J ^*ti^MINOMU- KU Fushhni Iran
S I FUSMiIlMlntfls-wa
M A P OF KYOTO
Figure 1
24
yama, Kyoto*
6
pour Puke sutras: "Meitoraia Maitoda," "Antoraia
Antoda," "Shihohachimenya senpuda,” "Kokuraia Renkada*"
7
Yamashiro: One of the five provinces of Kinai*
Chief towns Kyoto \mhich ccmiprises eight districts which
depend upon the Kyoto Pu (county) * Formerly the name
Yamashiro was written Yamaushiro (behind the mountain), on
account of its location in reference to Nara, the capital-
When Kanmu came to establish his residence at that place,
he changed the character to Yamashiro (Castle after Mountaii
E. Papinot, History and Geography of Japan, (Yokohama: 1909),
p# 747.
®Shimosa: One of the fifteen provinces of the
TOkaido. Comprises nine districts, six of which depend xxgén
the Chiba prefecture and three upon the Ibarakl prefecture
In ancient times, Shimosa, with Kazusa, formed only one
province called Fusa no Kunis this province was later
divided into two, Kami-1su-fusa and Shimo-tsu-fusa, names
which were contracted into Kazusa and Shimosa* Ibid. p*
573*
25
9 10
in Musashi toy priest Xannso; at Shingetsuji in Hitachi
— 11
toy priest KogHcu; at Rlkoji in KSzuke toy priest Kozasa;
and at Jijoji toy priest (Meji. When the Fuke sect was in
end of the Edo period the Kyoto Myoan temple was destroyed
9
^ Musashi s One of the fifteen provinces of the
Tokaido, has twenty kori (districts), eight of which depend
on the Tokyo Pu (county), nine on the Saitama prefecture,
and three on the Kanagawa prefecture. Ibid. p. 414.
10
Hitachi: One of the fifteen provinces of Tokaido,
comprises eleven districts belonging to the Ibaraki prefec
ture. This region, occupied by the Ebisu until the second
century, was incorporated into the m&pire after the cam
paigns of Takenouchi no Sukune and Yamatotakeru no Mücoto.
seimu-tenno constituted it a province over which he placed
a kuni no mivatsuko* Montoku-tenno changed its name
Hidakami to Hitachi* In 826, it was decided that in ccm-
memoration of Yamatotakeru, the governors of Hitachi, as
well as those of Kazusa and xSzuke, should always be prince^
of the imperial family, with the title of Taishu. For this
reason, these three provinces never had a kami, only a suke
or assistant Taishu* Ibid* p. 161*
THE KOMUSO
class
27
28
PLATE V
jrTM.Trr7<7-
uéitt*.
The ronin often wore komuso attire in which they are pic
weapons and put the tenoai (basket) over their heads and
1
The successors of Kakushin: Kichiku and KOmu, the
latter komu-so (so meaning bonze) has become the generic
name by which traveling bonzes of the sect were designated
E* Papinot, History and Geography of Japan, (Yokohamas
1909), p* 106? Derived from General Masakatsu Kusunoki,
grandson of General Masashig© Kusunoki, the eldest of
Masanori* After the fusion of two parties against Ashikags.
in 1399, Masakatsu revolted in Izumi and against Yoshihiro
Ouchi, but was defeated* Ryofu, a Zen priest, commissionec.
the name komu to Kusunoki when the latter became an itiner^
ant priest*
30
became apparent.
traveling.
komuso of Edo did not all carry bags for the collection of
Occidental trade.
1912) * The feudal barons who cooperated with the new Mai j i
movement*^
6
”Hugh Borton, Japan’s M o d e m Century (New Yorks The
Ronald Press Co., 1955), p. 181.
35
MySan School under their auspices* Since the Puke sect had
grounds.
period.
CHAPTER V
slang expressions*
1
Eiji Yoshikawa, Nippon Onoaku no Seikaku (Tokyo s
Wanya Shot en, 1948), p. 64? Shigetoshi Kawatake, (ed.),
Geino Jiten (Tokyo: 1956), p# 339? Hisao Tanabe, Japanese
Music (Tokyo? Kokuaai Buhka Shinkokai, 1959), p. 27?
Interview with KOizumi %oan, December, 1961.
39
40
. *A»-
MîC'V\3•Xif-4 M Y''
• i ' j f V ' * - * IV-' •tf^''*'^ ■ i ' * * ' ^ ' % , ,
‘« Y - ' ^ :<X4 ^
3,
-* t: r-: 5:-V!.''C-'iV^:cS:-
Ε■>:<■;<vY
H
I-)
; -i- > - ' r ; » — ^-•f'C *f ■ • iZiz '■■■v' H
v - ' - ^ o v v v ~ ... A * . * r _ ^ D - - j i -
^ % % '.. _
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î\ iy"‘
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o
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—
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41
PLATE VII
1!
f/i*
•%
rs'
;i '•A* 'i
i t i i i %:
ïftif * î
i s i f t
s -:la î i 4dT
i*î|iMt î 'fit
lî
l!
i î ï i iï
*i
#
4-Æ
l l l l i
? 1
KOKUREIBO
42
by the later Kihko School, and the term reibo has been ap
chu den (middle)? oku den (inner)? kai den (outer) (both
Oku and kai ramks may be termed general ranks) ? and tetsu
was not required; the graduation from one class to the next
master classification.
from memory.
was eliminated.
1 ,L \
<
^ ',*- %
H W fa *
H CO O 0(
»l
>
W t «
E4 I
l
V'; ^ ^
ss
«0.
TT\^m- Î5
sH
s§
si
h
M E4
W CO
E4 E4
45
purposes; the five holes were named kyu, sho, kaku, chi,
wu; but it was not until after the Meiji restoration that
oped and distributed his own music, shin kvoku (new music).
2
Nippon Ongaku (Tokyo: Nippon Ongaku Sha, May-July
issue, 1962, No. 150), pp. 3, 7.
3
Toyotaka Komiya, (comp. & ed.), Edward G. Seiden-
sticker, Donald Keene, (trans.), Japanese Music and Drama
in the Meiii Era. (Tokyo: Obunsha, 1956), pp. 375-376.
47
§
w
tc q, i'^’\ iS^S A s ^ 5 , ^
X
11Ô <0,<Ü<%KÔ^<V XÔ , ^ ? ^ Ô ,'7W ^ 0 ^ ^ î °
I
s
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iRsssr ts s ss °w ? s ^
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sstsi^^Fsss^. <lsî;^^5?65,^ix.’FSS°37ti^ÿ ,<D^ 5x6
3 SS « - iO H
I
s'ô^îfsSW ^Kp ô' 5 5 % ;s % < lK 6 ,% ^
O
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OQ ■7R"&^X« ?f R
0 0 -^ ^ T N î ç '^ i s : * • '. O §
i^3û M
v w - 'T 'f' ) x , v J ^ j5 - C j’ ^ ' - » - ^ . " r - ^ S ^ ''Z^
TO 6
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49
tapping on the floor with his hands. The right hand is for
the downbeat and the left hand for the upbeat. A dot mark
dots, two beats; one dot, one beat. In the fourth square,
the dot on the right and a dot on the left indicate two
parts, and a triple line divides the time value into eight
ciples.
52
CHIDORI NO KYOKÜ
(SONG OF THE PLOVER)
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CHAPTER VI
CONCLUSION
54
55
During the feudal period, the Noh musicians enjoyed the pa
power.
before.
humanity.
61
O is r H -
I
62
Figure 6
63
GENERATION SUCCESSORS DATE OF DEATH
Figure 6 (cont.)
BIBLIOGRAPHE
A. BOOKS
64
65
B. PERIODICALS
C. LETTER
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ito"j"e. \ "'*°''\( or re.peo.t r-.ote. w ;th '\ '' tooo l"'lov'e.Mt..r'\f of tl\e.- tor'\jve.
11
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MONTY H . LEVENSON
KYOTO JOURNAi.
ing their heads to symbolize spiritual haps, one where the inquiry is the
detachment from the world. A group primordial past tremendous vitality
of komuso in Kyoto established the meets a shrinking and enthusiasm one
Fukeshu (Fuke Sect) at Meian Temple vision of our future finds associated
and began to use shakuhachi to solicit in which the entire with shakuhachi,
alm and as a tool for meditation. It planet can be held thriving outside of
was in the ha.nds of these mnin turned like a ball in the its traditional con-
"Priests of Emptine s and palm of one's hand . text amongst those
Nothingness" that the shakuhachi Shakuhachi is often who are culturally
was redesigned from the heavy root of referred to as the uninitiated and
nmdake bamboo - a form the modem "sound of nature." largely lU1famiLiar
instrument retains to the present day, ln Japan, its "origi- with its basic
and one closely associated with a tra- nal music" premises. This, 1 sus-
ditional aesthetic considered to be (honkyoku) is filled pect, is no accident.
uniquely Japanese. with echoes of forest Let's regard
With such a long evolution - so and sky. WiU this shakuhachi, for the
much of it linked to traditional Japan - sound, I wonder, tra- moment, strictly as a
Los A11gclc'J TimOJS, December 23, /99 1
it is interesting to observe the renais- verse a time before means of accessing
sance shakuhachi is currently experi- history to convey our distinctly information. Going back to a time well
encing here in the "New World." ln a human, inner archetypal voice? A before the Fukeshu wandered the nar-
society barely in its infancy, by voice reflecting more than the natural row streets of Kyoto - back 20 to 40
Japanese standards, one finds world to encompass our very place in thousand years ago to the prehistoric
shakuhachi beginning to occupy a the universe? Cutting loose, going far rnves of Lascaux in France - we find
small but important niche on the back (or ahead) - in any di.rection artifacts that represent the earliest
American cultural landscape. And, as away from orthodoxy- may just make archeological evidence of human
media headlines declare each day it possible to intersect the evolution- music. Ancient end-blown flutes with
with mind-numbing redW1dancy, it is ary time line at a point that yields four to six holes, bearing an uncanny
a place shared and contrasted with a some illwninating insights relevant to resemblance to the modern
host of phenomena that point to a spi- our present condition as a species. shakuhachi. Envision a mythical fore-
raling moral anomie W1precedented in lt is often after attending a concert bear, a tool maker, courting the
our modem history. Broken families, of traditional music, hearing critical impulse to etch a SOW1d scape of his
drive-by shootings, homelessness, comments about a performance, piece habitat.Call up that ancestor who first
extremes of violence and poverty in or style of blowing or discussing the heard the wind as music and was
the face of W1mitigated wealth and politics and organization of impelled by some great force to recre-
excess are just some of the social dis- shakuhachi, that these musings come ate that sound with breath and bone
locations that indicate a growing to mind. If "blowing shakuhachi" is or, indeed, with bamboo. 1n this we
alienation from the ethical underpin- indeed synonymous with sui zen can see shakuhachi totally and purely
nings and institutions that have gov- ("blowing zen") - as one finds carved as a tool for self knowledge. Dispense
erned our moral Lives for generations. in stone at the entrance to Meianji, as with form, ideology and, surely, with
People in America are increasingly well in the liner notes of so many icon, and regard blowing through the
turning both inward and outrmrd shakuhachi CDs - can there be such a emptiness of a hollow tube as a reflec-
toward older traditional cultures for a thing as "good" or "bad" blowing? tion pointing back to one's place in the
hint to the solution of some of the fW1- Where do suspension of judgment cosmos. Breath transformed to SOW1d
damentaJ problems they face. 1n this and "beginner's mind" fit in? Why are goes out to the world, but also loops
regard, shakuhachi is neither special there so many competing shakuhachi back to the player. lt becomes a micro-
nor unique, but is part of a growing schools in Japan, each with a complete cosm of the universe with the urge to
interest in ancient forms and practices arsenal of sectarian views, secrets and blow as the catalyst. Here shakuhachi
that have gained the attention of fundamentalist approaches? If, becomes an instrument in the strictest
many who are seeking old answers to indeed, form is emptiness and empti- sense, a tool to access, directly, a sense
some very new questions. ness form, why has the iemoto system, of place. No form, no tradition, no
with its rigid hierarchy of masters and hierarchy, no licensed masters
As A ~1AKER OF SHAKUHACHI in a "bam- grand-masters emerged as the pre- required. (Not much has really
boo desert" - a place where the dominate organizational paradigm for changed in these millennia.) Just add
resource is virtually nonexistent this traditional enterprise? Why is breath'
and having my own craft evolve access to such valuable information so Returning home from my frequent
almost completely outside of the tra- proscribed and expensive, not to men- travels to Japan, I am often left ""ith a
ditional context, l find that my mind tion licensed? I suspect that these sense of having visited some indefi-
often wanders to a mythical time and questions are endemic to the human nite past, while simultaneously
place where shakuhachi (in its broad- condition and have more to do with glimpsing an equally mystifying
est sense) encounters neither the con- issues of ego, power, and organization future . This uncertain feeling is
straints of a distinctive cultural form than we might care to admit or delve immediately obscured as J am hit by
nor a set of fixed ideas defining what into right now. What stands in sharp the culturally diverse, in-yom-face,
it must be. This imaginary time is, per- contrast to the haze generated by such shoot-from-the-hipness which charac-
terizes the America I inhabit. The jum- member of the Black Panther Pa.rty in
ble of impressions soon dissipates as I the San Francisco Bay Area d uring the
roll open the doors of my workshop, late Sixti.es, and has consistent! pro~
mount the bench and begin to carve claimed his innocence of the crime for
and shape the bamboos once more. which he was convicted - even at the
Home again. Then the phone begins to expense of having his appealc; for
ring, letters arrive and the e-mail flash- parole denied, for which an admission
es across the screen. Mostly voices of of guilt might have worked in hie;
those sharing new encounters with favor. The experience of the Black
this remarkable tool. Seldom are these Panther Party, targeted by the FBI and
voices casual, but rather filled with Federal Government during this era of
excitement, wonder and enthusiasm, intense opposition to racial injustice
relating tales of some new-found wis- and the War in Vietnam, is a chapter in
dom or unanswered questi.o ns. American history that bears careful
Occupying the hub of the information- review.) Veronza is a musician, has
al wheel that is shakuhachi, I am a been studying a variety of Asian heal-
privileged repository of these wonder- ing arts - including shiatsu, acupres-
ful stories, soon to be shared in a vol- sure, tsubo and massage therapy - and
ume entitled Empty F11shi: Encounters has a strong inte.rest in Buddhist med-
with Shalwhachi. These are tales of itation, ac; well as "hands-on" healing
shakuhachi on the periphery of its techniques he has practiced at the var-
evolution here in the West: a street ious facilities in which he has been
musician blowing for over two incarcerated. Veronza is also an hon-
decades at a San Francisco subway sta- orary elder of the Lompoc Tribe of Five
tion, a worker with the homeless in Feathers, a native American spiritual
New York City, a recovering alcoholic and cultural group. Over the ten years
and cook in Minneapolis, a teenager or so that I have known him, I have
defining his own right of passage as a made Veronza three flutes and am
flutemaker, a sculptor in rural Georgia presently working on a fourth. (The
and a political prisoner who has spent bamboos ket?p splitting in the harsh
half his life in a maximum security prison environment.) Shakuhachi has
prison are amongst the many folks become a strong focus in his life and
who are rediscovering, redefining and healing work at the prison. Not only
revitalizing this time-honored form. has he developed unique abili ties on
Tak,; no michi, the road of bamboo, is a the instrument, he has composed new
path that follows no prescribed direc- music for shakuhachi and organized a
tion, but still can be traced from pre- Rastafarian Meditation Group which
historic caves in Europe through Asia centers its practice around the
to the American frontier. shakuhachi. The article that follows
describes, in words and pictures,
ALL OP TIUS BY WAY OF introducing Mr. aspects of the spiritual practice devel-
Ve.ronza Bowers, Jr. aka #35316-136, an oped by Veronza and th.is group.
inmate at the Federal Penitentiary in
Terre Haute, Indiana, U.S.A. I have
known Veronza for close to ten years,
since he first wrote to me requesting
information about shakuhachi. I often
receive such letters from convicts who Monry H. Levenson has bee11 making
have been filling the growing number sliakulwchijlllles since 1970. He nrainlai.ns a
of prisons cropping up throughout the workshop or his home JO miles l!Ortheasr of
American heartland, many of whom Willits in rhe roasral foarhills of Mcndocirw
have begun to explore the practice of Counry, California, as well as in Japan a.r rhe
Buddhist meditation. I respond to all village of Kitagawa (Tokushima Prefect,.re) 011
of these requests and usually follow Shikoku lslalld.
up with a flute if the prison authorities
allow the inmates to keep a musical
instrument in theiJ cells. At that time
S11111ic by Ko S 1rat mo11 Veronza was incarcerated at the U.S.
Federal Penitentiary in Leavenworth,
Kansas, where he had since 1970 been
serving a life sentence for murder. (I
hasten to add that Veronza was a
14 KYOTO )O\JllNAL
VERONZA BOWERS JR .
MEDITATION HEALING
WITH SHAKUHACHI
HAVE UVEO THE PAST 1WENTY FOUR YEARS OF MY LIFE as a federal prisoner with the
Bureau of Prisons' number 35316-136 appended to my name. For those of you
who have never been inside a maximum security penitentiary, it might be diffi-
cult, if not impossible, to i.mag.i ne it as a place where the plaintive sounds of
shakuhachi can be heard. Ah' But it is true.
I am honored and happy to be able to sha.re with you a story about a young
man (whom doctors had told he would never walk again) and a piece of bamboo.
This is a story of the human spirit and wiU at its finest, and a story of the healing
power that is within shakuhachi. In 1987, this young man (let's call him Punchy)
was shot in the back in Detroit, Michigan. The shot and subsequent operation left
him completely paralyzed from the waist down. Call it coincidence, fate or sim-
ply the way things happen, but in that very same year I was introduced to
shakuhachi by a man named Monty H . Levenson, shakuhachi maker and now
dea.r friend.
Three years later, on the recreation yard of Terre Haute Federal Penitentiary in
>- Indiana, I first saw Punchy - he, being pushed in his wheelchair around the quar-
.0
u ter-mile track; me, sitting under the shade of a lone tree blowing my shakuhachi.
:E.
c. I closed my eyes and continued to blow. The song in my heart reflected what I had
e
Cl just seen and my shakuhachi began to cry.
KYOTO J URNAL
"It appears that I have allowed the I was terribly excited and anxious bined so that by the end of the sum-
flutist, the tour guide, to take me to talk with the Brother who had been mer (10 months after our first medita-
beyond the realms of my control. I can moaning and groaning and rolling his tion healing session - December 10,
sense serenity, but the pain ... Oh! The head back and forth. I needed to know 1990), Punchy could do 100 full squats
pain! And why do I feel as if I'm not what he had "seen," what he had non-stop, walk five steps on his own,
alone? The corridor, or pathway, "experienced." He and I got together walk behind his wheelchair with me
which has turned blue some time ago immediately after everyone had left sitting in it and push me one full lap
is now glowing and has a strange the chapel. As I blew shakuhach.i at around the quarter-mile track on the
aura. the top of the stairwell, he recorded yard
what you have just read. I wish I had more space to share
"The silence broke. 'Rub your hands Ah' The breakthrough! On so many with you the details of this inspiring
together.' It was the familiar voice of levels. A small piece of bamboo, 1.8 struggle of a young man determined
the tour guide, and I made motions feet long had opened doorways which to walk again and the never-ending
with my hands, which was all I could had previously been welded shut. mystery that is shakuhachi.
do to m,1ke him aware that the com- Shakuhach.i had done in 1 1/2 hours I am deeply thankful to my dear
mand had been heard. I didn't quite what no human being had done in friend Monty for introducing me to
know how to function, for I was dis- three yea.rs. Shakuhach.i had made it shakuhach.i, and I am eternally grate-
tant, incoherent and a slight bit deliri- possible, i.a Darrell's psychic bond- fuJ to shakuhachi for so graciously
ous; but I could sense that he knew, ing with Punchy, to connect with and accepting my breath and for allowing
for 1 was still trapped in space. 'Rub to deeply understand Punch's psycho- me to be an extension through which
your hands together so that they gen- logical and spiritual pain. During our healing can pass.
erate energy, and then rub the warmth next working session, Punchy and I
over your face ... wash your face with discussed all that we had both In addition to studying and practicing
energy.' I was able to comprehend the learned, and for the first time he meditation and the ancient 11enling arts
fact that this was, no doubt, a com- opened up completely. of China and japan, Veronz.a Bowers, Jr.
mand, and l found myself obedient, From then on, we began each work- is an accomplislted musician and compos-
my body began to respond, my eyes ing session with shakuhachi. A er of original pieces for the sfwktihachi.
opened ... it was over." healthy diet with vita mins; a combina- Any unshing to ccmtact Veronza am
tion of disciplines mentioned earlier; reach him at the following address:
After the session had ended and meditation and circulation of Ch'i;
everyone else had "returned" to this weightlifting for upper body strength; Veronza Bowers, Jr. #35316-136
plane, Punchy was still out. When he stretching, stretching and more FCC, MediumC-/, P.O. Box /032
finally "awoke," he blurted out, stretching for leg strength (The Coleman, FL 33521- /03'1..
"What happened? Where I been?" s trength of the Tiger lies in his flexibil-
Everyone laughed. ity); and a determined will, all com-
Citation: The Journal of the Acoustical Society of America 74, S18 (1983); doi: 10.1121/1.2020840
View online: https://doi.org/10.1121/1.2020840
View Table of Contents: https://asa.scitation.org/toc/jas/74/S1
Published by the Acoustical Society of America
fundamentally unfamiliar but could co-exist with natural instruments in .muscially satisfying ways. (1) Because
sounds are represented numerically for digital purposes, the potential for sound editing is changed qualitative-
ly. Musical phrases were extended and transformed by replicating segments of them in ordered patterns whose
structural properties dominated those of the original without eclipsing its identity. (2) Phase vocoding tech-
niques were used to analyze instrumental sounds. Resulting data were appropriately reduced to form the basis
ofresynthesis through the MUSIC X program. In this way, independent access to arbitrary groups of partial
components was attained. Odd and even partials were presented over spatially distinct speaker channels and
subjected to dynamically changing vibrato functions with differing rates and depths. Additional distinct audi-
tory images arose in the stereo field while the sonic image of the original instrument remained. Examples of
instrumental recordings and their digital transformations are presented in isolation and in musical contexts.
9:35
Jl. Changing conceptions of pitch structure and timbre: A modest proposal. Gerald J. Balzano (Department of
Music, University of California at San Diego, La Jolla, CA 92093)
Two areas of musical exploration of interest to composers for which the computer is unusually well-suited
are microtonal systems and "new" timbres. Notions about how to achieve these musical extensions are doubly
theory-dependent in that they depend on both our theory of perception and our theory of the stimulus. Most
extant attempts to do microtonal music have used small-integer ratios as the fundamental description of the
musical elements involved and the basic entities to which human perceivers are presumed sensitive. For timbre,
the universe of possibilities has traditionally been characterized in terms of spectral variables (possibly time-
varying), and more recently in terms of projections on axes in a "subjective" multidimensional space. In the
present paper, alternatives to prevailing conceptions of both pitch and timbre are considered. A symmetry-
oriented group-theoretic approach to pitch structure that eschews ratios will be described; the resulting view of
pitch systems leads to some novel ideas about how to do microtonal music on a computer. For timbre, an
approach that focuses on the dynamics of the sound-producing activity rather than on the resulting spectra will
be described. This leads naturally to an interesting alternative to currently popular methods for generating
timbres and "timbre transformations" on a computer.
10:05
J3. Some experiments with compositional algorithms. Charles Wuorinen (670 West End Avenue, New York,
NY) and Mark Lieberman (Bell Laboratories, Murray Hill, NJ 07974)
10:35
J4. Shakuhachi pitch and intonation: Application to computer music composition. Linda A. Seltzer (M/A-
COM Linkabit Corporation, 3033 Science Park Road, San Diego, CA 92121 and Department of Music,
University of California, Sail Diego, La Jolla, CA 92093)
The music for the Japanese bamboo flute, shakuhachi, contains microtonality as well as continuous change
of pitch in the course oflong notes. Shakuhachi pitch and intonation may be studied by means of pitch detection
analysis of the waveform. Or, alternatively, the pitch of a note may be described as the result of the following
parameters: fingering, vocal tract shape, distance of the lips from the mouthpiece, and direction of breath. The
melodic technique of the shakuhachi may be applied to computer music composition in the continuous fre-
quency domain, without restriction to a scale consisting of discrete frequencies
11:05
JS. Digital sound synthesis for underwater music perception. Michel Redolfi and Lee Ray (Computer Audio
Research Laboratory, Center for Music Experiment, University of California at San Diego, La Jolla, CA
92123)
A piece of original electro-acoustic music, Sonic Waters II, was created. Software "instruments" and "note
lists," descriptions of the behavior of those instruments in the musical time of a sequence, were specified for the
cmusic synthesis program to produce, by frequency modulation, amplitude modulation, and localization and
motion within a synthesized space, morphological transformations of several harp recordings. Means of (1)
transduction of this wide-band musical work (20 Hz to 16 kHz) for human listeners immersed in water and (2)
compensating for changes of such musically significant psychoacoustic cues as depth perception and relative
amplitudes of overtones occasioned by the prominence of bone conduction in underwater listening were inves•
tigated. One pressure-loaded diaphragm and four piezoelectric transducers were positioned to broadcast the
computer-processed sound. The wavelength of some bass notes exceeded the dimensions of the pool, limiting
musically useful propagation of low frequencies due to cancellation and reinforcement of standing waves.
[Work supported by the CME, System Development Foundation and the French government.]
S18 J. Acoust. Soc. Am. Suppl. 1, Vol. 74, Fall 1983 106th Meeting: Acoustical Society of America S18
Shakuhachi Honkyoku: Motivic Analysis of Sokaku Reibo
Amy D. Simon
Sokaku Reibo is a programmatic piece from the honkyoku repertoire of the Kinko-ryū, the
shakuhachi performance tradition established in the name of Kurosawa Kinko (1710–1771) in the
eighteenth century. As with all Kinko-ryū honkyoku, the composer and date of composition for
Sokaku Reibo (and variant Tsuru no Sugomori ) are unknown. However, the piece has
been traced to the mid-eighteenth century, when prototype melodies were heard in the Kyōto
and Ōsaka areas and Kurosawa Kinko was collecting shakuhachi repertoire (Tsukitani 2006,
20–21).
Sokaku Reibo, Tsuru no Sugomori, and other variants are connected by a loose program
concerning the life cycle of a family of cranes. They differ with regard to structure in that they
have different numbers of dan (sections) and different motivic content. Some versions of the
piece can be traced to the kokyū, a traditionally three-stringed bowed instrument similar to the
shamisen. Tsuru no Sugomori melodies had been transcribed for the kokyū during the Tenpō era
(1830–1844) and then re-introduced to the shakuhachi. This contributed to the large number of
variants of Tsuru no Sugomori, including the 7-dan version played by practitioners of the
Myōan Taizan-ha. Sokaku Reibo of the Kinko-ryū had developed its 12-dan form by the middle
of the nineteenth century. Tsukitani Tsuneko (2006, 20–21) calls its line of transmission the
“Edo line.”
The honkyoku are not understood as fixed objects; instead they are always “in progress”
(Fritsch 1983, 17). Modifying the standard pieces is a part of performance practice and “owning
the piece,” while also a form of composition (Matsunobu 2009, 62). The creative choices of dai
shihan (grand masters) are especially respected: they may make subtle changes, or even add or
1. For example, Tsukitani (2008), Tokita (1996), Weisgarber (1968), and Koizumi (1958).
2. This shorthand stands for “minor second + Major third = Perfect fourth.”
Analytical Approaches to World Music, Vol. 5, No. 2. Published January 25, 2017.
2 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
omit whole sections of a piece at their discretion, re-creating the piece at each performance
(Lee 1993, 228). This creative license is one factor that has led to many variants of pieces in the
honkyoku repertoire.3
Variants can retain the same name, while the composition differs in content or structure.
However, two very similar compositions could also appear under different names (Lee 1993,
173). Renaming a piece is one means of taking ownership of it (Matsunobu 2009, 62).
Shakuhachi dai shihan Yokoyama Katsuya (2003, 4) writes, “The very nature of this body of
music—with its purpose of ‘expressing one’s true intention’ or playing ‘one’s own tune’—
means that the pieces will inevitably change gradually over time along with the spirit of each
age.”
Sokaku Reibo is related to Tsuru no Sugomori and Koden Sokaku of different lineages, and
together there may be as many as 20 or 30 variants (Tamba 2003; Tsukitani 2006, 20). These
popular pieces have been recorded numerous times by master players, often more than once
in variant forms. For example, a recording of the Kinko-ryū Sokaku Reibo by Yamaguchi Gorō
appears on the album A Bell Ringing in the Empty Sky (1969, 13:13), and in longer versions on
Japan: Music of the Shakuhachi (1991, 20:54) and Great Masters of the Shakuhachi Flute (1988, 21:34).
Sakai Syōdō of the Chikuho-ryū recorded five variants of the piece from four lines of
transmission on a single album, Five Metamorphoses of “Nesting of Cranes” (2006). Masters may
also teach the same piece differently to different students or during different periods of their
lives (Matsunobu 2009, 58).
All the same, practitioners of different schools of playing might consider their own
variants to be distinct pieces, especially when the differences are substantial and the lines of
transmission quite separate. For example, variations in melodic content and structure, and
differences in playing style and title between the Kinko-ryū honkyoku Sokaku Reibo and
Watazumi Fumon’s dokyoku crane piece titled Tsuru no Sugomori are such that the two could
be viewed as separate pieces, despite the shared program of nesting cranes and characteristic
onomatopoeic musical elements. Indeed, in the liner notes for Sakai Syōdō’s Five
Metamorphoses of “Nesting of Cranes,” Tsukitani (2006, 19) writes: “The present CD … includes
five pieces taken from among the many variants that have the same (or, similar) title but are,
in fact, different pieces.”
3. Other factors include the limited use of notation before the late nineteenth century, and the practice of monks
wandering from temple to temple, sharing pieces.
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 3
According to Riley Kelly Lee (1993), variation in honkyoku is a natural result of oral
tradition. However, “any modification or reinterpretation of Kinko honkyoku … would tend to
be minor if compared with the variation and change that can be seen in honkyoku that have
been transmitted outside the Kinko tradition” (295). In addition, “Kinko honkyoku in Kinko
notation are generally far more detailed and precise in performance prescription than are
non-Kinko honkyoku scores used by shakuhachi players who are not associated with Kinko ryū.
Furthermore, notation appears to have been used in the transmission of Kinko honkyoku since
at least the early 1800s” (294). It is for these reasons that I have chosen to analyze scores and
recordings by shakuhachi masters of the Kinko-ryū, specifically of the honkyoku piece Sokaku
Reibo. A comparison to variants of different schools, such as Tsuru no Sugomori and Koden
Sugomori, is beyond the scope of this study.
Example 1 shows notation for the first dan of Sokaku Reibo by Aoki and Kurahashi. The
tablature is read vertically, from right to left. Approximate pitches for the tablature used in
Sokaku Reibo are given in Figure 1. Example 2 shows the first of 12 dan of Sokaku Reibo in
Western staff notation, transnotated from the two scores by Aoki and Kurahashi in Example
1.5 A legend of transnotation and transcription symbols appears in Appendix A.
4. The latter of the two notated sources is an unpublished hand-written score with the postscript, “Sheet music
for use at Boulder, Colorado, USA World Shakuhachi Festival ’98 (7/5–7/11) (written) 4/8/’98, (signed) Aoki Reibo.”
(Postscript translation by David Wheeler in email communication, October 25, 2013).
5. Avigdor Herzog (1964, 100n) defined transnotation as “transference of notation revised from one form to
another” in contrast to “transcription: notation of music already existing in performance.”
4 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
Example 1. First dan of Sokaku Reibo, notation by Aoki Reibo II, Reibo-kai guild of Kinko-ryū (left), and
Kurahashi Yodo I (right), from Jin Nyodō Honkyoku: Notation by Kurahashi Yodo, Level IV.
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 5
possible when tone holes are partially closed, forked fingerings6 are used, and/or the angle of
the breath stream against the mouthpiece is altered. The most common indication for
changing the pitch is meri. The resulting pitch and the method used to achieve it differ
from school to school, but the general meaning is to lower the pitch one to two semitones (in
contrast, kari means to raise the pitch). In the Kinko-ryū, while tsu is played F on a 1.8-
foot shakuhachi, tsu-meri is lowered to approximately E♭. The fingering system allows not
only for all tones of the Western chromatic scale, but also several fingerings for some tones to
alter the timbre, intonation, and loudness of the given tone.
/
ro re ro re chi hi go no
hi/i
D1 G1 D2 G2 A2 C3 D3
BASIC MERI TONE
ri tsu chi hi
meri meri meri meri
B♭1 E♭2 A♭2 B♭2
OTHER, MERI TONES
/
ha (ni ichi san no go no
shi go u/u dai meri ha
no ha)
C2 G/A♭2 D3
OTHER, NON-MERI TONES
/
Figure 1. Approximate tones in tablature used for Sokaku Reibo, played on 1.8-foot shakuhachi. C1 =
middle C. Tablature not used in Sokaku Reibo is omitted. Some tones have more than one possible
fingering and therefore more than one tablature symbol, e.g., D2. For some pitches, the tablature
symbol changes for the third octave, e.g., ri C2 becomes hi C3.
6. This term is not typically applied to shakuhachi fingerings. However, by “forked fingering,” I mean that below
an open tone hole there is a closed or partially closed hole. For example, san no u (B♭2): only the third hole from
the root end is open.
6 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
Example 2. Transnotation of dan 1 of Sokaku Reibo scores by Kurahashi Yodo I and Aoki Reibo II.
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 7
Additional markings in the notation indicate register (lower: otsu or ryo; upper:
kan), breath phrases (horizontal lines), dynamics (crescendo and decrescendo), meter (ura-
ma and omote-ma left and right dots), repeated figures and tones, finger articulation (e.g., the
symbol , i.e., 2, indicates that the second hole from the bottom is to be used for articulation),
as well as special tremolo ( koro-koro), flutter tonguing ( tamane), and sliding and
bending techniques (e.g., suri, nayashi, and meri-komi).
TWELVE-DAN FORM
Although a performance of Sokaku Reibo can include 12 possible dan, the player may
omit several sections. Figure 2 shows which dan are performed or notated in each of the
recordings or scores consulted in this study. Each dan appears in at least one of the two
recordings, but each recording omits two or three dan. With regard to scores, dan 8 and 11 are
absent from both, and Kurahashi includes only six of the possible dan. The five dan present in
all of the selected recordings and scores are 1, 2, 6, 10, and 12. I consulted an additional
recording by Yamaguchi (A-6139) on which he performs all 12 dan. Likewise, a score by Satō
Seibi ([1954] 1989) in Book 6 of his honkyoku compilation, Shakuhachi Honkyoku Zenshu,
includes all 12 dan.7 I used this score as a reference to confirm the locations of the dan in the
recordings and other scores when they were not clearly marked. The nature of transmission is
such that even when the dan are clearly marked in the scores, the content may differ from
score to score.
7. Satō (1906–1983) was a student of Miura Kindo and Yoshida Seifu. He ran the Kinkosha publishing company
and sought to “consolidate and unify” the various Kinko-ryū notation systems (“Satō Seibi” 2016).
8 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
In honkyoku notation, dots to the right and left of the tablature columns indicate metric
pulse. These omote-ma and ura-ma (right- and left-side) beats reflect the cyclical nature of the
human breath and pulse, and create the appearance of fixed rhythm in the pieces. Notation
and performance practice differ, however. As Tsukitani (2006, 20) points out, “Generally
speaking, most classical honkyoku of syakuhati are composed in free rhythm. In the case of
Turu no sugomori, however, only the pieces from the Tōhoku district are played exclusively in
free rhythm; others insert melodies here and there in more or less fixed rhythm.”8 Rhythmic
patterns, referred to as rhythm cells in this study, are repeated throughout the Kinko-ryū
Sokaku Reibo.
In contrast to the fixed rhythm of repeated patterns, the free rhythm of Sokaku Reibo is
felt on sustained tones and breaks between phrases. A comparison of the first measures of the
Aoki transnotation (Example 3a) to the first breath phrases of his recording (Examples 3b and
3c) reveals the discrepancy between notation and practice in free passages.
bœ
j œ œ , bœ
j œ œ , bœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
&
,
bœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ , bœ œ ˙
& J
Figure 3a. Beginning of Sokaku Reibo, transnotation of Aoki score.
bœ œ w m w .m bœ ˙ m w m bœ œ ˙ m
&
&
8. Tsukitani uses Kunrei-shiki romanization of Japanese (syakuhati, Turu no sugomori); I use Hepburn
romanization (shakuhachi, Tsuru no sugomori).
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 9
Figure 3c. Beginning of Sokaku Reibo. Annotated image of Aoki recording (corresponding to phrases in
Example 3b) shows lengths of tones and breaths. Analysis using SPEAR software.
Gutzwiller (1992, 269) observes: “In the notation of [the Kinko] school we find a duple-
time pattern clearly depicted, although such a pattern can hardly be perceived when listening
to the music itself.” Regarding “imprecision” of durational values, Lee (1993, 355) explains, “in
the performer’s mind, a note with a ‘long duration’ is held a ‘long time,’ not ‘four seconds’ or
‘eight seconds.’ How long the note ends up being held depends upon the circumstances of the
individual performer and performance.”
Absent from the notations are indications of the durations of the rests that connect the
phrases. Phrasing in honkyoku is based on the breath of the performer: each phrase is
performed in one breath. Breath phrases are indicated in the Aoki and Kurahashi scores by
short horizontal lines separating the tablature. The quality and length of the inhalation
between breath phrases must be learned from a teacher and can be understood in terms of the
Japanese aesthetic concept of ma: “an ‘interval’ between two (or more) spatial or temporal
things and events” (Pilgrim 1986, 255). Phrases in honkyoku are thus temporal events separated
(or connected) by intervals. These intervals do not necessarily belong to the events preceding
or following them; however, the quality of a phrase ending has an impact on the quality of the
ensuing breath intake, which in turn affects how the next phrase is begun, with respect to
factors such as loudness, timbre, and duration. The durations of the rests between phrases are
not indicated in original scores, nor in my transnotations, since each performer will differ in
his or her approach from performance to performance. In a comparison of six recordings of
Hifumi Shirabe, Gutzwiller (1992, 277) concludes: “We cannot make any clear statement about
the proportional lengths of tones that holds true for a majority of players.” The same would
10 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
Example 4. Rests (circled in blue) between breath phrases of Sokaku Reibo, Yamaguchi recording.
Analysis using Melodyne software.
follow for the lengths of rests between phrases. However, to give a general idea of duration in
performance practice in two samples, in the Aoki recording I consulted, rests last up to
approximately 2 seconds, whereas in the Yamaguchi recording the longest rest is about 2.4
seconds long, with the longest rests appearing towards the end of the recording. See Example
4 for one set of rests in the latter recording. These rests are an integral part of honkyoku, and
form the interval of silence from and into which many of the motivic elements analyzed in
this study emerge.
MODE
In previous studies (e.g., Weisgarber 1968, 317; Tokita 1996, 5; Tsukitani 2008, 156),
scholars have argued that shakuhachi honkyoku can be analyzed based on octave-species in or
miyakobushi scales, illustrated in Example 5, or on miyakobushi tetrachords (m2+M3=P4).9
w w w bw w
&w bw w w bw w
P4 P4 P4 P4
&w w w bw w w bw w
bw w bw
m2 M3 m2 M3 m2 M3 m2 M3
Example 5b. Miyakobushi scale on D, disjunct (left) and conjunct (right) forms.
9. Miyakobushi (urban) scales are so-called because they are found in the urban melodies of the koto, shamisen,
and shakuhachi. In scales are so-named in contrast to yō scales. The Japanese concept of in and yō is related to the
Chinese yin and yang.
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 11
As early as 1891, Cargill Gilston Knott related the process of tuning fourths used by
Japanese koto players to tetrachords of ancient Greek music theory. He referred to descending
three-tone koto patterns spanning a P4 (e.g., A-F-E) as “koto trichords” (380). Four years later,
Uehara Rokushirō published an analysis of Japanese music that included the octave-species in
senpō (or in) scale.
In his 1958 text, Koizumi Fumio would take these theories further in analyzing Japanese
music genres in terms of tetrachords and scales, or modes. Koizumi discussed four three-tone
patterns of intervals in Japanese music, calling them tetrachords. As in Greek theory, the
patterns he identified all span a perfect fourth with movable middle tones, resulting in
different internal intervals. However, since the patterns do not contain four tones, a second
basis for use of the term tetrachord, I will instead follow Knott in using the term trichord. The
four trichords discussed by Koizumi are shown in Example 6.
According to Koizumi (1977, 77), the miyakobushi scale made up of two disjunct
miyakobushi trichords (D-E♭-G-A-B♭-D) “is the representative scale of the music of the koto,
shamisen, biwa, and shakuhachi, all typical instruments of the Edo period (1603–1867) when
Japan’s traditional culture divergently flourished.” I will show how much, but not all, of the
melodic content of Sokaku Reibo is accounted for by three transpositions of the miyakobushi
trichord (octave-species scalar passages do not occur in the piece). These three m2+M3
trichords, on D, G, and A, outlined below in Example 7, also account for the final tones of the
12 dan: D2-A2-A2-G2-G2-A2-A2-A2-A2-A2-C3-D1.
&w bw w w Nw w w w w w #w w
miyakobushi ritsu min'yo ryukyu
bw w w bw w
&w bw w w
& bw bw w bw w bw Nw bw
w w bw w
M3 M3 M3 m2 m2 m2
given in Example 8. Note that both trichords and frequently occurring intervals are
transposed up a P4 and P5, and the specific tones of the frequently occurring intervals can be
extracted directly from the trichord transpositions.
In this study, rather than focusing primarily on octave species and tetrachords/trichords,
I favor a bottom-up approach to analyzing motivic content, based first on transposition of
frequently occurring intervals as well as on pitch and rhythm cells. In the following sections, I
discuss and label pitch and rhythm cells—defined by repetition within breath phrases—in
terms of frequently occurring intervals and transpositions of the miyakobushi trichord. It is
important to note that not all dan nor all cells appear in all of the sources I consulted.
However, I have consolidated information from all sources to facilitate an analysis of all 12 dan
and their cells.
Eliott Weisgarber (1968) refers to cells in his analysis of three Kinko-ryū honkyoku (Hi-fu-
mi Hashi Kaeshi, Banshiki-no-Shirabe, and San-ya Sugaki). He states, “over three hundred
different patterns or ‘cells’ may be found” in honkyoku (318–19). According to Andreas
Gutzwiller and Gerald Bennett (1991, 58), “highly structured smaller units—what we have
called tone cells—clearly have great musical significance.” Tone cells “generally last the
length of a breath and are separated from one another by clear rests… Most of the tone cells
have three parts. They consist of a first phase, the preparatory note, a second phase, the main
note, and a third phase, the ending” (38). Gutzwiller and Bennett do not quantify the
“generally” and “most” of the preceding passage but they do qualify their comments as being
characteristic of tone cells in the 18 meditation- and ritual-related honkyoku of the 36 Kinko-
ryū pieces, as opposed to the pieces “less strictly associated with the monks’ religious
practices” (38), such as Sokaku Reibo.
I have found that tone cells are also fundamental to understanding Sokaku Reibo;
however, cells in this piece do not necessarily “last the length of a breath.” In fact, a short cell
may be repeated several times within a single breath. Therefore, I distinguish between cells of
frequently occurring pitch material and breath phrases separated by rests.
I will show how cells in Sokaku Reibo are subject to expansion and contraction of melodic
material and display common intervallic and rhythmic patterns. I refer to cells of intervallic
patterns as pitch cells, and cells of rhythmic patterns as rhythm cells, and have identified 15
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 13
Figure 3. Main pitch cells and frequently occurring variants in Sokaku Reibo. The note G+ in cells 6 to 8
and 12 is consistently played between G and A♭. The label G+ is meant to distinguish it from G, as the
two notes have distinct fingerings and tablature.
main pitch cells in Sokaku Reibo. A list of these and frequently occurring variants appears in
Figure 3.10 I have labeled recurring rhythm cells as 2RC (two-note rhythm cell) and 3RC (three-
note rhythm cell).
Miyakobushi trichords account for much but not all of what is heard in Sokaku Reibo;
therefore, in this section I discuss pitch cells in terms of both trichord modulations and
intervallic relationships. I begin with an analysis of pitch cells in the first dan since it presents
much of the intervallic and trichordal material of the piece. It also offers examples of
expanded and contracted pitch cells.
In all of the Sokaku Reibo sources I consulted, the first cell (1: E♭-G-D) is repeated at least
nine times at the beginning of the first dan before any other motivic content is presented. This
cell is then repeatedly contracted to E♭-D and D throughout the remainder of the first dan.
Cell 1 is also expanded in dan 1 to D♭-E♭-G-D (where D♭ corresponds to a tremolo effect called
koro-koro). This expansion, with D♭ added to the beginning of cell 1, could also be considered
an expanded form of cell 2 (D♭-D)—a cell also repeated several times—or a merging of the
first two cells: [E♭-G-D] + [D♭-D] = D♭-E♭-G-D. In the first dan, cell 2 is also expanded to D♭-
10. See Appendix B for detailed numbering of cells and complete labeling of variants.
14 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
This compositional method of expanding, contracting, and repeating pitch cells and
fragments of pitch cells (i.e., variants) is used throughout the piece to emphasize certain
melodic and rhythmic patterns. In the first dan, the repetition, contraction, and expansion of
the first three cells highlights the important melodic material, material that includes not only
pitch patterns that will return at the end of the piece, but perhaps more significantly, the
principal intervallic content of the entire piece.
Three frequently occurring intervals in Sokaku Reibo are a minor second (m2), major
third (M3), and perfect fourth (P4). The opening pitch cell of the piece sets up two of these
intervals (M3, P4), and the first dan relies on all three. Together they form the miyakobushi
trichord (m2+M3=P4). Including the koro-koro multiphonic tremolo effect (shown on D♭), one
of two exceptional cases to be addressed later, the pitch cells of the first dan are listed in
Figure 4.
Not taking into account the koro-koro effect, playable only on D♭212 and indicated with an
asterisk in the table, the dan 1 intervals shown in Figure 4 are: M3 (rising and falling), P4 (rising
and falling), and m2 (falling). Again leaving aside the D♭ for a moment, all of the remaining
tones of the first dan are accounted for by the miyakobushi trichord on D (D-E♭-G), with the
exception of B♭. The D-B♭ of cell 3 could be explained as a brief transposition down a P4 to the
trichord on A (A-B♭-D), as shown in Figure 4; however, A, the lowest tone, is not heard. The
B♭ is played directly after D, a M3 interval reiterated repeatedly in later dan as D- B♭ as well as
Figure 4. Pitch cells in first dan, aligned vertically to match intervallic/pitch patterns. Notes repeated
immediately are not included. The left column labels main cells by number; the far right column
shows corresponding m2-M3 (miyakobushi) trichord transpositions. Recordings and scores in which
cells appear are listed in the Versions column. For numerical labeling of all cells, see Appendix B; for
explanation of symbols, see Appendix C.
11. In discussion of pitch cells, repeated tones are left out in order to simplify the identification of frequently
occurring intervals. See Appendix B for more detailed analysis of pitch cells.
12. The koro-koro right-hand fingering pattern is also used later in trills on B♭2 and D3; however, these are not true
koro-koro.
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 15
G-E♭ and C-A♭. The occurrence of the B♭ in dan 1 without the lowest tone of the A trichord
thus immediately raises the question of whether it is appropriate to attempt to fit all of the
pitch cells into trichords, or whether an intervallic approach would be more suitable. Adding
to the problem is the D♭ of the koro-koro tremolo—this tone fits into none of the miyakobushi
trichord transpositions on D, G or A. As mentioned above, I will deal with this exceptional
case separately.
Also prominent throughout Sokaku Reibo is the major second (M2), an interval not part of
the miyakobushi trichord. It is first heard in dan 1 in the pitch cell D♭-E♭-D. Together these four
melodic intervals (m2, M2, M3, P4), recurring on specific tones in their original and retrograde
forms, make up most of the melodic material of the piece. Significantly, this dan 1 material
returns in the final dan in a sort of recapitulation of the opening.
D♭2 first appears in cell 2 of dan 1: D♭-D. The D♭2 notation is an approximation of the
fundamental that results from the special koro-koro multiphonic tremolo effect. I have chosen
to name it D♭ instead of C♯, since the “ro” of koro-koro corresponds to D on a standard length
1.8-foot shakuhachi. Koro-koro imitates the flapping of the cranes’ wings in the program of
Sokaku Reibo and is played using a set fingering pattern.13 The same effect is not achieved with
other tremolo fingerings.
Since koro-koro is playable only on D♭2, this non-trichord tone could be disregarded with
respect to trichords and intervals; however, this tremolo effect is integral to certain pitch
cells—it is frequently sustained and is consistently followed by D♭2, either directly (D♭-D) or
indirectly (e.g., D♭-E♭-D and D♭-E♭-G-D). It thus serves as a lower neighbor to D♭2, an
augmented prime relationship that mirrors the m2 interval E♭-D and its transpositions.
Rhythmic motives, or rhythm cells, are also repeated throughout the Kinko-ryū Sokaku
Reibo, beginning in the first dan. The most prominent cell in the piece is œ œ œ and its retrograde
(labeled 3RC in Appendix B when it occurs on a single repeated tone).14 Other repeated figures
j
include œ œ (2RC), œ œ œ œ . , and œ . œ œ œ œ œ . These figures can be considered part of the fixed rhythm
sections of the piece.
The œ œ œ 3RC cell (and its retrograde) in particular appears at the end of several dan, but is
also heard at the end of longer pitch cells, in turn leading to its repetition on a single tone or
13. Tone holes 1 and 2 of the lower joint are alternately opened and closed, hole 3 is closed, holes 4 and 5 are
vented, and the instrument is played with a meri (lowered) head position.
14. Because right- and left-side beats in tablature notation do not correspond to strong and weak beats in the
j
Western sense, the 3RC cell is essentially the same inœits
.œ . œœœœ œœœœœœand œ œ œ forms. Beaming of notes in transnotation
examples corresponds to groupings in the Aoki and Kurahashi scores, but not necessarily to how the tones are
grouped in performance.
16 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
interval. In these cases, I refer to 3RC as a terminal pattern. It appears at the end of the first
dan on a m2 interval: E♭-E♭-D, a contraction of cell 3, which directly precedes it. This rhythmic
pattern first appears in a variant of cell 2, again emphasizing the E♭-D m2 as shown in
Example 9. In later dan, the 3RC is played repeatedly on a single tone, becoming a motivic
element as recognizable as the main pitch cells and frequently occurring intervals. As shown
in Appendix B, the single-tone 3RC occurs primarily on G2 and A2, following contracted cell
variants G-E♭ and A-G+, respectively, whereas the single-tone 2RC repeats on D3, E♭2/3, and
B♭1/2.
As mentioned above, the final dan (one of the five dan to appear in all sources) includes a
sort of recapitulation of the first dan and its motivic content. Partway through dan 12, cells 1, 2,
and 3 return together for the first time since dan 1, beginning with cell 2 (D♭-D) and the
programmatic koro-koro, a signal not heard since the beginning of dan 2. This cell is expanded
as it was in dan 1, to D♭-E♭-D and D♭-E♭-G-D (also a variant of cell 1), and is followed by cell 3
(D-B♭-E♭-D). After a brief return to cell 2, a single iteration of cell 1 (E♭-G-D) ends the piece,
although an octave lower and without its initial E♭: G1-D1 (P4). Example 10 gives transcriptions
of the initial and final breath phrases from Aoki’s recording.
bœ œ w m w .m
&
Example 10a. First breath phrase of Sokaku Reibo, transcription of Aoki recording.
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 17
-25
m
&œ
^
Example 10b. Last breath phrase of Sokaku Reibo, transcription of Aoki recording. Aoki plays the initial
note approximately 25 cents below G1, relative to A=442Hz.
Since the treatment of cells 2 and 3 is basically the same as in dan 1, the last dan thus also
restates the 3RC as well as the miyakobushi trichord on D and transpositions of frequently
occurring intervals. Figure 5 provides a pitch cell analysis of the end of dan 12.
The three remaining dan that appear in all sources are 2, 6, and 10. Repetition,
contraction, and expansion of pitch cells continues to occur throughout these dan, but
whereas new material is introduced in the second dan, dan 6 and 10 consist mostly of variants
of earlier cells and intervals. In this section, I will discuss new material presented in these
three dan.
In the second dan, cell 1 is further expanded to E♭-D-E♭-G-A-E♭-D (cell 4) (and a koro-
koro variation: cell 4sb), which is in turn reduced to G-A-E♭ (cell 4.2), then to G-E♭, a
retrograde of the E♭-G M3 interval that had appeared prominently as the first two tones of the
piece, and finally to G, just as E♭-G-D had been contracted to E♭-D and D in dan 1. In dan 2,
contraction also occurs after the introduction of cell 5 (C-A♭). This third transposition of the
M3 interval, heard in dan 1 on E♭-G and B♭-D, reduces to A♭. Similarly, cell 6 (B♭-A-G+) is
reduced to A-G+,15 then further to a 3RC on A. As seen in the first two dan, contraction of pitch
cells frequently leads to recurring rhythmic cells, the terminal 3RC in particular. Figure 6
analyzes pitch cells in dan 2.
15. G+, a note that consistently falls between G and A♭, is explained below as an exceptional tone.
18 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
In dan 2, 6, and 10, the most frequently played intervals continue to be m2 (e.g., E♭2-D2,
B♭2-A2) and M3 (e.g., G2-E♭2, D3-B♭2, C3-A♭2), as well as M2 (e.g., G2-A2 in cell 4). In addition, an
occasional octave or falling perfect fifth (P5) is heard, but these occur between sub-phrases,
separated by quick breaths or brief breaks in the sound, as illustrated in Example 11a. The
falling augmented fourth (A2-E♭2) heard in the second dan is treated with a rising pitch bend at
the end of the A, bringing the interval closer to a P5. Example 11b gives the transnotation of
this cell.
,
b œ ^œ œ ^œ œ ^œ œ ^œ œ ^œ œ^œ œ ^œ b œ ^œ œ^œ œ ^œ œ ^œ œ ^œ œ ^œ œ ^œ . œ
& b œ^œœœœœœœœœœœœœ
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
R L R
Example 11a. Example of octave interval in dan 6, transnotation of Aoki score. On his recording, Aoki
separates octave jumps with short breaths.
b œ^œ œ œ^œ œ œ œ ^œ ^œ œ
[ ]
& J
L
Example 11b. Transnotation of cell 4 containing A4 (A-E♭) and M2 (G-A) intervals in dan 2, found in
both Aoki and Kurahashi scores. A rising pitch bend (indicated in square brackets) is added to the end
of the A in performances by Aoki and Yamaguchi.
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 19
However, if performance practice of movable pitch (e.g., bends and slides) is not taken
into account, how can the augmented fourth (A4) be accounted for? Similarly, how can the M2
G-A within a pitch cell be explained in theoretical terms? If the miyakobushi trichord on D (D-
E♭-G) is transposed up a P5 to A (A-B♭-D), the A of cell 4 (E♭-D-E♭-G-A-E♭-D) can be
understood as the lowest tone of the upper of two disjunct m2-M3 trichords: D-E♭-G-A-B♭-D.
The M2 (G-A) is then simply the interval between the upper note of the first trichord and the
lower note of the second trichord, and the A4 (A2-E♭2) results from movement from the
trichord on A back to the trichord on D.
middle tone of a descending min’yō (folk song) trichord (m3+M2 ascending, see Example 6
above). However, since the C is touched on so briefly, a shift of mode is unlikely.
Despite the fact that dan 6 and 10 are notated or recorded in all of the sources I
consulted, all of the principal intervals of the piece (m2, M2, M3, P4), as well as secondary
intervals (A4, heard closer to P5 in practice) are presented in the first two dan. Likewise, by the
end of dan 2, all three trichord transpositions (on D, G, and A) and most pitch and rhythm cells
have been introduced. The tones of some cells can be accounted for by a single trichord (e.g.,
cells 1 [D-E♭-G] and 5 [G -A♭-C]), whereas the tones of other cells come from two
transpositions of the trichord (e.g., cells 3 and 4). Cells 3 and 4 both use trichords on D and A;
stacked disjunctly, they form an octave scale: D-E♭-G-A-B♭-D. In the first two dan, the trichord
on G appears only on its own, within cell 5; however, it directly follows the trichord on D.
These two trichords can be stacked conjunctly: D-E♭-G-A♭-C. Thus, from the original
miyakobushi trichord on D, transpositions up a P4 and P5 result in trichords on G and A, which
when added to the trichord on D create disjunct and conjunct miyakobushi scales on D (see
Example 5b, above). Octave-species scalar passages do not occur in Sokaku Reibo; however,
these scales made up of trichords can account for the pitch content of all cells within the
piece, with the exceptions of non-trichord tones D♭ and G+.
A second tone unaccounted for by m2-M3 trichord transpositions is the tone I have
labeled in my analyses G+2 (i.e., it lies between G2 and A♭2); it is notated ichi san no u in the
Aoki score and u dai meri by Kurahashi. According to the Nyokai-an fingering chart, ichi san no
u sounds a G2 on the 1.8-foot shakuhachi,16 whereas according to Gunnar Jinmei Linder (2010,
217) it sounds an A♭2. Tokuyama Takashi’s (n.d., 7) chart includes a fingering for u meri,
presumably u dai meri, sounding G2. This tablature is not included in other fingering charts I
consulted. I have transnotated this tone as G2 (e.g., in Example 12c below), based on the
Nyokai-an and Tokuyama charts, but in parentheses to distinguish it from the basic G2
fingering ( re) and A♭2 ( chi-meri);17 however, in the Aoki and Yamaguchi recordings, ichi
san no u/u dai meri is played closer to A♭2 than G2, frequently between 25 and 50 cents low,
especially in later dan.
In Sokaku Reibo, G+2 first appears in the second dan in cell 6 (B♭-A-G+, or B♭-A-A-G+-G+
including repeated tones) and recurs in later dan, always after A2, and, with only one
exception in dan 12, followed by A2.18 If the tone is treated as a G, then the resulting B♭-A-G
(m2-M2) cell will not fit into a single miyakobushi trichord; likewise if G+ is treated as A♭ (B♭-A-
A♭: m2-m2). A M2 (A-G) could be explained here as the interval that connects two disjunct
trichords (D-E♭-G-A-B♭-D), but A-G+ is not a true M2. This G+ (G/A♭) ichi san no u/u dai meri
fingering, frequently performed as A♭2 minus 25 to 50 cents, is sandwiched between two A2 (
chi), thus creating an interval between a M2 and m2. Aoki and Yamaguchi both tend to play
the chi (A) on either side of the ichi san no u about 25 to 35 cents high (especially in the
second half of the piece), or with a rising pitch slide at the end of the first A, resulting in a
melodic interval approaching, but not quite, a M2 (approximately 150 to 185 cents). Since G+ is
not the G of the G-A♭-C trichord, it can thus be considered a lower neighbor to A, the lowest
note of the A-B♭-D trichord.
The 3RC rhythm introduced in dan 1 is heard throughout dan 2 and the entire piece on
m2, M2 and M3 intervals, as well as on a single tone separated by finger articulation. Examples
12a through 12d show several appearances of the rhythm cell.
[
œ œ
b œ œ œ œ œ œ ^œ ^œ œ
m2 ]
[ m2 ]
& J
^ ^
[ M3 ]
L
Example 12a. 3RC rhythm cell on m2, M3 in dan 2, Kurahashi and Aoki transnotations.
Example 12b. Repetition of 3RC rhythm cell on M3 in dan 2, Kurahashi and Aoki transnotations.
œ ( œ ^œ) œ ( œ ^œ) œ ( œ ^ œ) œ
&
Example 12c. Repetition of 3RC rhythm cell in dan 2, Aoki transnotation (interval is approximately
M2).
22 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
U̇
œœœ œœœ œœœ œœœ œœ
^ ru ^ ru ^ ru ^ ru ^ ru
&
L
As in dan 1, the three-note rhythm cell has a terminal function throughout the piece. It
appears at the end of dan and long pitch cells, emerging as a contraction of these pitch cells. In
the second dan, it is played repeatedly on G2 ( re), as in Example 12d, then transposed up a
m2 to A♭2 ( chi-meri) following a C-A♭ M3 interval. At the end of dan 2 (but omitted in the
Kurahashi score), the rhythm is transposed up a semitone again, to A2 ( chi), leading into the
third dan, which begins on B♭2 ( san no u). In this case, the A♭ ( chi-meri) could thus be
understood as arising through successive chromatic transposition of the rhythm cell’s pitch
material: G-A♭-A-B♭ from cell 4 through 7. Alternatively, in terms of trichords, these repeated
tones could result from a transposition in dan 2 from D-E♭-G, through G-A♭-C, to A-B♭-D. In
Figure 8, highlighting of individual pitches and of trichords shows both alternatives.
In addition to this 3RC pattern, ends of dan or large segments within dan are signaled by
nayashi, a pitch slide technique used to repeat a sustained tone by beginning it approximately
a semitone below pitch and sliding upwards.19 Since nayashi figures in Sokaku Reibo consist of
(1) a sustained tone, (2) a breath, (3) a nayashi slide to the same tone, and (4) a third iteration of
the tone, sustained, this figure could be understood as an augmentation of quicker 3RC.20 In
addition to marking the end of large segments within dan, nayashi directly precede 3RC cells at
the end of dan 2 and 6, as in Example 13. This terminal rhythmic pattern is repeated in later
dan.
Figure 8. Pitch cell analysis, dan 2 and 3. Highlighted notes show chromatic progression of rhythm cell
and correspondence to trichord transpositions.
Example 13. 3RC cell preceding and following nayashi slide in dan 2. Nayashi in the second phrase
repeats G2 of the first phrase. Upper staff is Kurahashi score transnotation, lower staff is Aoki score.
,
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
hole 5
,
slide 5j j j j j j j
bœ^ œ^ œ^ œ^ œ^ œ^ œ^
5 5 5 5 5 5
& J J J J J J J œ
j
b œ^ œ œ
j^
œ œ
j^
œ œ
j^
œ œ
j^
œ œ
j^
œ œ
j^
KY
R
J J J J J J J
b œ ^ œ œ ^ œ œ ^ œ œ ^ œ œ ^œ œ ^ œ œ ^œ
L
AR & b œ^ œ œ ^ œ œ ^œ œ^ œ œ ^œ œ ^œ œ ^œ
R
L
Just as pitch cells are contracted, the three-note rhythm cell œ œ œ (3RC) is frequently
reduced to a two-note cell œ œ (2RC) in Sokaku Reibo. In dan 6, after the D-B♭ M3 is reiterated, B♭
becomes the focal point of the middle of the dan. It is repeated in octaves in a 2RC pattern,
notated or heard in most sources seven times in kan (upper octave), seven times in otsu (lower
octave), then another seven times in kan, as shown in Example 14.21 This cell is reiterated on B♭
in dan 7, 8, and 9. For additional examples of 2RC on a single repeated tone, see Appendix B,
where cells are labeled accordingly.
As mentioned above, most of the melodic and rhythmic material of Sokaku Reibo has
been presented by the end of the second dan. Intervallic relationships and trichord
transpositions recur throughout the remainder of the piece. Below I discuss some additional
notable cells and non-trichord tones that occur in the remaining optional dan.
The first cell that uses tones from all three transpositions of the miyakobushi trichord is
21. Yamaguchi plays it only six times in kan, and not in otsu.
24 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
œ bœ œru nœ ,
œ œ œ œ.
[ 3RC ]
bœ
& J
^ ^
Example 15. Cell 8.1, dan 4, transnotation of Aoki score. Letters below staff indicate trichord
transposition.
presented in the fourth dan. Cell 8.1 begins with a descending M3-m2 pattern as C-A♭-G, the
miyakobushi trichord on G, a transposition first hinted at in dan 2. The cell continues with the
Example 15, is cell 8.1: C-A♭-G-A♮-E♭-G, a cell containing tones of all three trichord
recurring G-A-E♭ pattern, combining tones of the trichord on D and A.22 The result, shown in
At the beginning of dan 5, two tones pose questions with regard to trichord analysis: C2
and F2. The C ( ha) of cell 9 is played quickly before the main tone of the cell, D. Because of
the manner in which it is notated and played in the sources I consulted, I consider this tone
preparatory to the D2, rather than a hint at the trichord on G. The C is treated similarly in later
dan. The F2 ( tsu) of the next pitch cell occurs only once in the piece, in cell 10 (F2-G2), and
only in the Aoki score and recording, and the Satō score. Kurahashi instead notates E♭2 (
tsu-meri) and Yamaguchi does not perform dan 5. Notably, Kurahashi notates cells 9 and 10 in
one breath; the resulting (C)-D-E♭-G thus outlines the trichord on D, with a preparatory C. In
contrast, Aoki sustains the F in performance then lowers it approximately a semitone before
sliding back up to F. Satō also notates a lowering then raising of the F before the G. Because of
the lowering of the pitch, it is conceivable that the performer considers this movable tone
(F, tsu) to be in the same pitch area as E♭ ( tsu-meri). According to Gutzwiller (1974, 103),
“moving notes,” as opposed to “main notes,” “serve to introduce the main note of a phrase,” in
this case, the G, and “[do] not have a fixed pitch.” The G in the Aoki recording is
comparatively stable.
A rare minor third interval (A-C, cell 12) appears at the beginning of dan 7. However,
since dan 6 ends on A and the A-C cell is followed by a reiteration of cell 5 (C-A♭), the A-C cell
could be understood as transitional: a brief departure from the A-B♭-D trichord to the G-A♭-C
trichord. This departure is followed by a return to cell 11, the cell introduced at the beginning
of dan 6. The highlighting in Figure 9 shows this interpretation.
22. That is, if the A is understood as the lowest note of its trichord, and not as an embellishment of the E♭-G M3.
23. Yamaguchi does not perform dan 7.
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 25
Figure 9. Pitch cell analysis, dan 6 and 7. Highlighted notes show trichord transition involving m3.
angle of the airstream against the mouthpiece, resulting in lowered pitch. Thus, the notated A
of the A-C m3 cell is lowered in practice, approaching the A♭ played in the next breath.
Another analysis would be to consider the A2-C3 m3 as part of a min’yō trichord on A (A2-
C3-D3). However, the rarity of the m3 in Sokaku Reibo, the absence of the upper note in this
brief transition, and the optional nature of dan 7 make this theory less probable. Important
motivic elements are repeated and emphasized in Sokaku Reibo. This does not occur with the
m3 interval.
The more common M2 is introduced in a new transposition and pitch cell in dan 9 (13:
C3-C3-B♭2). Example 16 provides transnotation and a transcription of this cell. Unlike in
previous cases (C-D), the C here is not treated as a preparatory tone—it is sustained and
repeated in the Aoki score and recording, and in the Satō score (dan 9 is omitted in other
sources), and in fact, in the Aoki recording, it is preceded by preparatory finger articulation on
D3 (see Example 16b). The descending M2 C3-B♭2 cell is followed by an ascending M2 (C3)-D3,
where the C is preparatory, and then by a M3 (B♭)-C-A♭ (Example 16a). If these cells are
combined to create a conglomerate cell, C-B♭-(C)-D-(B♭)-C-A♭, the initial C could be heard as
belonging to the trichord on G, along with the end of the expanded cell; the B♭-(C)-D, with the
26 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
,
œ ^œ b œ . œ ^œ ˙ , œj ˙5 ((tr.) bœ
j œ bU˙
&J J
L R R
˙
j
wm w m
b+39 œ ˙
j simile
b˙ m
j
œ w m bw m
+21-33
œ +21 ^ œ ^ œ ^
&
Example 16b. First cell of dan 9, played three times, transcription of Aoki recording.
C disregarded, would form part of the trichord on A. However, since these two trichords
cannot be combined to create a rational scale (as either of them could in concert with the
trichord on D), and breaths interrupt this conglomerate cell, a simpler approach is to consider
the initial repeated C to be a foreshadowing of the C-A♭ M3, or simply an oddity with regard
to miyakobushi trichords (the C is likewise not related to the end of the preceding dan 8).
Analysis based on an alternative trichord—min’yō (m3+M2: G-B♭-C)—is not useful since there
is no G present in the entire dan to anchor a shift of modality.
The analysis in Figure 10 indicates that two new cells are presented in dan 11, but they
are composites of earlier cells. Cell 14 (notated only in Satō and not performed on either
recording) begins with the C-A♭ M3 of cell 5 (dan 2) added to (C)-D-E♭, the first cell of dan 8, to
produce C-A♭-C-D-E♭, together making use of all but the middle tone of the conjunct
miyakobushi scale (D-E♭-G-A♭-C). This cell does not recur. Cell 15 is a composite of (C)-D (cell
9), added to the beginning of recurring cell variant 7.1.1 (B♭-A-G+-G+-A). With an added
ending as well, together they form the cell (C)-D-B♭-A-G+-G+-A-B♭-A. Yamaguchi performs
the initial C as a trill to D, as in cell 11, dan 6, so if the C is labeled as preparatory and the G+ as
a lower neighbor to A, the remaining notes all fit into the trichord on A. Analysis of these two
cells (14 and 15) shows that the introduction of new melodic material this late in the piece can
in fact be traced to earlier dan.
Dan 3 through 7 conclude with the three-note rhythm cell (3RC) on a single tone, as did
dan 2. At the end of the second, third, sixth and seventh dan (as well as dan 8, 9 and 10 in the
Satō score only), the cell is repeated on A2 ( chi), whereas in the fourth and fifth it is
repeated on G2 ( re or D3 [ a] in the Kurahashi score, dan 5 only), tones that correspond to
the lowest note of the trichord transpositions.
Nayashi augmentations of 3RC directly precede 3RC cells at the end of dan 2, 3, 4, 5, 6,
and 7 (and 8, 9 and 10 in Satō). A nayashi also precedes the final breath of the piece in the
Kurahashi score.
CONCLUSION
I have identified 15 main pitch cells in Sokaku Reibo (see Figure 3 and Appendix B). The
melodic content of these pitch cells can be understood in terms of frequently occurring
intervals (m2, M3, P4) and their transpositions up a P4 and P5, as well as miyakobushi trichords
(m2+M3=P4) on D, G, and A, with some exceptions, such as M2 and A4 intervals and the
exceptional tones G+ and D♭. Some pitch cells bear close resemblance to one other; for
example, the pitch content of cell 6 (B♭-A-G+-) recurs in cells 7, 8, and 15. Some pitch cells
occur only once, or rarely, whereas others occur frequently in their original or variant
(contracted or expanded) forms.
Some variants occur more frequently than the main pitch cells from which they are
contracted or expanded. For example, cell 4.2 (G-A-E♭-E♭-E♭), a contraction of cell 4, is found
in dan 2, 4, 5, 10 and 12, whereas the original cell is heard only in dan 2. Contractions that
correspond to the prominent M3 and m2 intervals of the piece also occur frequently. For
example, cell 3.2 (D-B♭), a descending M3 and part of the trichord transposition on A,
comprises the first two tones of cell 3 (D-B♭-E♭-E♭-D). This D-B♭ contraction is heard in dan 6
through 11. Additional examples of recurring contracted cell variants appear in Appendix B.
These examples include single-note rhythm cells (2RC, 3RC), patterns which also emerge as
contractions of pitch cells.
The five dan common to all of the notated and recorded sources I consulted are 1, 2, 6,
10, and 12. With respect to miyakobushi trichords and frequently occurring intervals,
28 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
transpositions on D, G, and A heard throughout the piece have been introduced by the end of
the second dan, as have M2 and A4 intervals and G+ and D♭ exceptional tones. These two
tones, though exceptional with respect to miyakobushi trichord transpositions, can be said to
function within the frameworks of frequently occurring intervals and pitch cell patterns.
Regarding the D♭, the resulting programmatic effect of the multiphonic tremolo can be
assumed to take priority over modal considerations. However, the fundamental does form a
M2 with the adjacent E♭ (cell 2am) as well as an augmented prime relationship heard as a m2
with D (cell 2). The G+, chosen perhaps for its timbral characteristics or for fingering
considerations, is performed exclusively within a 3RC pattern with A, forming an interval that
approximates a M2 (cells 6-8, 12), thereby repeating established intervallic and rhythmic
patterns.
In addition to trichords and intervals, the first two dan also present the first six of the 15
main pitch cells, as well as the 3RC rhythm cell. The main pitch cells or their variants found in
the five dan common to all sources are 1 through 9, 11, and 15, as summarized in Figure 11.
Missing from this group are cells 10 and 12 to 14. However, these four cells do not recur in
the piece. Cell 10 (F-G) appears only at the beginning of dan 5 and is notated instead as E♭-G in
the Kurahashi score. Cell 12 (A-C) is only heard at the beginning of dan 7, and cell 13 (C-C-B♭)
at the beginning of dan 9. Cell 14 (C-A♭-C-D-E♭), an extension of cell 5, occurs only in the Satō
score in dan 11. In contrast, cells 1 to 9 and 11 are heard frequently in their original and variant
forms throughout the piece, as well as in dan 1, 2, 6, and 10 (Cell 15, found only in dan 11 and 12,
is a combination of cells 9 and 7). In dan 12, cells from dan 1 recur in a sort of recapitulation of
the opening of the piece, after the recurrence of a few other prominent cell variants (4.2, 9ae
and 11.1).
Pitch
Rhythm Excep.
Dan Miyakobushi trichords or scales Intervals cells or
cells tones
variants
D E♭ G m2/A1, M2,
1 M3, P4 1–3 3RC D♭
D E♭ G [A] B♭ D
D E♭ G A B♭ D m2/A1, M2, D♭
2 M3, A4 4–6 3RC
D E♭ G A♭ C G+
D E♭ [G] A B♭ D m2, M2, M3,
6 3, 7, 11 2RC, 3RC G+
P8
A B♭ D m2, M2, M3,
D E♭ G A B♭ D P4
10 (KY only: 3, 4, 7–8 3RC, 4RC G+
[D] E♭ G A♭ C
[D] G A4, P5)
E♭
D E♭ G A B♭ D m2/A1, M2, 1–4, 9, 11, G+
12 M3, P4 2RC, 3RC
D E♭ G 15 D♭
Figure 11. Musical material found in each of the five dan common to all consulted sources.
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 29
In summary, the five dan heard in all of the sources I consulted could be understood as
containing the main musical material of the piece—that is, pitch cells (1–9, 11), rhythm cells
(2RC, 3RC), frequently occurring intervals (m2, M2, M3, P4, A4), exceptional tones (G+, D♭)
and m2-M3 trichord transpositions (on D, G, and A)—with most of this material being
introduced by the end of the second dan. Applying the framework of an octave-species
miyakobushi scale to the melodic content of the piece was not necessary to this study. Nor was
the trichord sufficient as an investigative tool. Rather, an analysis of smaller elements, notably
melodic and rhythmic motives, exposed the greater structure of the piece.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This study is based on research undertaken for my Ph.D. dissertation at York University
in Toronto, Canada.24 I would like to express my gratitude to Jay Rahn, for his guidance
throughout this project, and to Gerard Yun, for sharing his knowledge of and enthusiasm for
Japanese music and all things shakuhachi. I would also like to thank AAWM’s editors and
anonymous reviewers for their valuable feedback. Any flaws in the article are my own.
REFERENCES
Fritsch, Ingrid. 1983. “A Comparison of Tozanryu and Kinkoryu Shakuhachi Arrangements for
Sankyoku Gasso Made from Identical Originals.” Yearbook for Traditional Music 15: 14–30.
Gutzwiller, Andreas B. 1974. “Shakuhachi: Aspects of History, Practice and Teaching.” Ph.D.
diss., Wesleyan University.
Gutzwiller, Andreas and Gerald Bennett. 1991. “The World of a Single Sound: Basic Structure
of the Music of the Japanese Flute Shakuhachi.” Musica Asiatica 6: 36–59.
Knott, Cargill Gilston. 1891. “Remarks on Japanese Musical Scales.” Transactions of the Asiatic
Society of Japan 19: 373–92.
Koizumi, Fumio. 1958. Nihon dentō ongaku no kenkyū I [Japanese Traditional Music Research].
Tokyo: Ongaku no Tomosha.
———. 1977. “Musical Scales in Japanese Music.” Asian Musics in an Asian Perspective: 73–79.
Lee, Riley Kelly. 1993. “Yearning for the Bell: A Study of Transmission in the Shakuhachi
Honkyoku Tradition.” Ph.D. diss., University of Sydney.
Linder, Gunnar Jinmei. 2010. Notes on Kinko-ryū Shakuhachi Honkyoku: Performance Techniques:
Analysis, Classification, Explanation. Lidingö, Sweden: nipponicom.com.
Matsunobu, Koji. 2009. “Artful Encounters with Nature: Ecological and Spiritual Dimensions
of Music Learning.” Ph.D. diss., University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign.
Pilgrim, Richard B. 1986. “Intervals (‘Ma’) in Space and Time: Foundations for a Religio-
Aesthetic Paradigm in Japan.” History of Religions 25(3): 255–77.
Satō, Seibi. (1954) 1989. Shakuhachi Honkyoku Zenshu, book 6. 4th ed. Kinkosha.
Tamba, Akira. 2003. “Japan: The Art of Shakuhachi Teruhisa Fukuda: Kinko School.” Liner
notes for Teruhisa Fukuda: Shakuhachi—Kinko School. Translated by Jeffrey Grice. Ocora
Radio France, compact disc.
Tokita, Alison McQueen. 1996. “Mode and Scale, Modulation and Tuning in Japanese
Shamisen Music: The Case of Kiyomoto Narrative.” Ethnomusicology 40(1): 1–33.
Tsukitani Tsuneko. 2006. “Sakai Syōdō and ‘Turu no sugomori’ (Nesting of Cranes).” Liner
notes for Five Metamorphoses of “Nesting of Cranes” by Sakai Syōdō. Translated by
Yamaguchi Osamu. Ebisu-12, compact disc.
———. 2008. “The Shakuhachi and its Music.” In The Ashgate Research Companion to Japanese
Music, edited by Alison McQueen Tokita and David W. Hughes, 145–68. Aldershot, UK:
Ashgate.
Uehara, Rokushirō. 1895. Zokugaku senritsu kō [The Melodies of Popular Music]. Tokyo:
Kinkōdō Shoseki.
Weisgarber, Eliott. 1968. “The Honkyoku of the Kinko-Ryū: Some Principles of Its
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Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 31
SOUND RECORDINGS
Sokaku Reibo:
Aoki, Reibo. 2006. Living National Treasures Series Vol. 6: Shakuhachi (Kinko Ryu). Columbia
COCJ-33975, compact disc.
Japan: Music of the Shakuhachi. 1991. Victor VICG 5357, compact disc.
Teruhisa, Fukuda. 2003. Shakuhachi—Kinko School. Ocora Radio France, compact disc.
Yamaguchi, Gorō. (1969) 2007. A Bell Ringing in the Empty Sky. Nonesuch H-720025, compact
disc.
———. 1988. Great Masters of the Shakuhachi Flute. Auvidis A-6139, compact disc.
Sakai, Syōdō. 2006. Five Metamorphoses of “Nesting of Cranes.” Ebisu-12, compact disc.
Watazumi, Fumon. (1973–74) 2009. Watazumido-so: His Practical Philosophy. Columbia Music
Entertainment COCJ-35936, compact disc.
Yokoyama, Katsuya. (1976) 1988. Zen: Katsuya Yokoyama Plays Classical Shakuhachi Masterworks.
SM 1033/34, compact disc.
32 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
Note values are approximate and loosely relative. Rhythmic groupings show
♫/♩ emphasis (e.g., a dynamic or agogic accent on the first of three beamed eighth
notes).
Ura-ma/omote-ma metric dots; given only for first note of breath phrase. Beaming
L/R of eighth notes in transnotation corresponds to R-L relationship:
♫ = R-L ♪♪ = L-R ♪♫ = L-R-L
Given above the note for tones with more than one fingering (e.g., a for D2). If
tablature symbols not indicated, the basic fingering is assumed (e.g., ro for D2). Simile refers to
tablature.
Atari (hit/push) indicated hole (hole 1 is at the lower end, hole 5 is on the back); ru
1, 2, 3, 4, 5
is a special articulation fingering.
˙ œ
œ
Pitch bends and slides are shown graphically. Nayashi and hiku types are
j specifically indicated above the note. (All D3 a fingerings in the Kurahashi
bœ score are accompanied by a hiku symbol; these cases are not indicated in the
transnotation.)
b˙
tamane
Microtonal inflections are indicated numerically (in cents) above notes (e.g. +25).
+/- Values smaller than 10 cents (+/-) are not indicated.
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 33
Versions:
KY = score by Kurahashi Yodo I (Jin Nyodō Honkyoku)
AR = score by Aoki Reibo II (variations in AR recording indicated in parentheses)
YG = recording by Yamaguchi Gorō
SS = score by Satō Seibi
Dan 1
Pitch cells
1: E♭-G-D
1.1: E♭-D
2: D♭*-D
3: D-B♭-E♭-E♭-D
2 2db
KY D♭*-D x9 D
2am 2 2db 2 2db
AR D♭*-E♭-D D♭*-D x5 D D♭*-D x3 D
2am 2 2db
YG D♭*-E♭-D D♭*-D x3 D
2am 2 2db 2 2db 2 2db
SS D♭*-E♭-D x9 D♭*-D x12 D D♭*-D x3 D D♭*-D x3 D
3 3db
KY D-B♭-E♭-E♭-D x2 E♭-E♭-D x5
3 3db
AR D-B♭-E♭-E♭-D x2 E♭-E♭-D x7
(3)
3
YG D-B♭-E♭-E♭-D
3 3db
SS D-B♭-E♭-E♭-D x3 E♭-E♭-D x7
Dan 2
KY
6 6db 6db’ 3RC
AR B♭-A-A-G+*-G+* A-A-G+*-G+* x3 A-G+*-G+* x3 A-A-A x8
6 6db 6db’ 3RC
YG B♭-A-A-G+*-G+* A-A-G+*-G+* x2 A-G+*-G+* x3 A-A-A x8
6 6db 6db’ 3RC
SS B♭-A-A-G+*-G+* A-A-G+*-G+* x3 A-G+*-G+* x3 A-A-A x8
Dan 3
Dan 4
8 8sb (or 5de + 4.2ae) = 8.1 8sb/de 8db/de or 4.2 4.2dm/de 3RC
AR B♭-B♭-A-G+*- C-A♭-A♭-G-A-E♭-E♭- C-A♭-A♭-G-A- G-A-E♭-E♭-E♭ G-E♭-E♭ x3 G-G-G x8
G+*-A-D-G-A- E♭-G E♭-E♭-E♭
E♭-E♭-E♭-G
8 8sb/de 8db/de or 4.2 4.2dm/de 3RC
YG B♭-B♭-A-G+*- C-A♭-A♭-A♭-G- G-A-E♭-E♭-E♭ x2 G-E♭-E♭ x3 G-G-G x7
G+*-A-D-G-A- A-E♭-E♭-E♭
E♭-E♭-E♭-G
8 8sb (or 5de + 4.2ae) = 8.1 8sb/de 8db/de or 4.2 4.2dm/de 3RC
SS B♭-B♭-A-G+*- C-A♭-A♭-G-A-E♭-E♭-E♭- C-A♭-A♭-G-A- G-A-E♭-E♭-E♭ x3 G-E♭-E♭ x3 G-G-G x8
G+*-A-[C]-D-G- G x2 E♭-E♭-E♭
A-E♭-E♭-E♭-G
38 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
Dan 5
9ae 2RC 9db 2RC 1.1 3RC 1.1 2RC 9db 2RC 9db
KY [C]-D-E♭ E♭-E♭ x6 D E♭-E♭ x7 E♭-E♭-E♭-D- E♭-E♭-D-D x3 D D-D x6 D
D-D x2
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 39
Dan 6
Dan 7
Dan 8
9ae 2RC 9db 2RC 9db 1.1 3RC 1.1 2RC 2RC 9db
SS C-D-E♭ E♭-E♭ x7 D D-D x7 D E♭-E♭-E♭-D- E♭-E♭-D-D D-D x7 D
D-D x3 x3
9ae 2RC 9db 9db 1.1 2RC 1.1 9db
YG [C]-D-E♭ E♭-E♭ x6 D D x7 E♭-E♭-D-D E♭-D x2 D x7
11ae’
SS [C]-D-E♭-D-B♭-D-
[C]-A-G+*-G+*-A-
B♭
11ae’ 9 5de [2RC including finger
articulation]
YG [C]-D-E♭-D-B♭-D- [C]-D [B♭-]C-A♭ A♭ x7
[C]-A-G+*-G+*-A-B♭
Dan 9
11ae’
AR [C]-D-E♭-D-B♭-
D-[C]-A-G+*-
G+*-A-B♭
13 2RC 11ae’ 2RC 3.2ab/ae’ 2RC
SS C-C-B♭ x3 B♭-B♭ x7 [C]-D-E♭-D-B♭- B♭-B♭ x7 B♭-D-B♭-B♭-B♭ B♭-B♭ x7
D-[C]-A-G+*- x3
G+*-A-B♭
AR
7de = 7.1 7de’ & 2RC 3.2 7.1db 7db’/de’ 3RC
SS B♭-B♭-A-G+*- B♭-B♭ x7 D-B♭ x8 A-G+*-G+*-A x2 A-G+*-G+* x6 A-A-A x8
G+*-A x3
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 43
Dan 10
KY
RC 3.2de
AR C x10 (8) D (koro)
7.1.1 7.1.1 3.2 retrograde RC 3.2de
YG B♭ (koro)-A-G+*- B♭-A-G+*-G+*-A B♭-D C x8 D (koro)
G+*-A
7.1.1 7db 3de = 3.2 RC 3.2de
SS B♭ (koro)-A-G+*- B♭-A-G+*-G+*-A- D-B♭ x3 C x8 D x8
G+*-A B♭
3.2
KY D-B♭ x3
3.2 & 4RC
AR D-D-D-D-B♭-B♭-
B♭-B♭ x3
3.2 & 4RC 3.2 3.2 3db’
YG D-D-D-D-C-C-C- D (koro)-B♭ D-B♭ x3 D
C x2 [C=B♭?] (koro) x2
3.2 & 4RC 3.2 3.2 3db’
SS D-D-D-D-B♭-B♭- D (koro)-Bb (koro) D-B♭ x3 D
B♭-B♭ x3 x3
44 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
AR
7.1.1
YG B♭ (koro)-A-G+*-
G+*-A
7.1.1 7.1.1 7.1.1ae 7db’/de’ 3RC
SS B♭ (koro)-A-G+*- B♭-A-G+*-G+*-A B♭ (koro)-A-G+*- A-G+*-G+* x3 A-A-A x7
G+*-A x5 G+*-A-G+*-G+*
Dan 11
YG
2RC 1.1db 14 2RC 1.1db 2RC 1.1db
SS E♭-E♭ x7 D C-A♭-C-D-E♭ E♭-E♭ x7 D E♭-E♭ x7 D
YG
3.2 RC
SS D-B♭ x3 C x8
46 Analytical Approaches to World Music 5.2 (2017)
Dan 12
KY
9ae 2RC 9db
AR [C]-D-E♭ E♭-E♭ x7 D
9ae 2RC 9db
YG [C]-D-E♭ E♭-E♭ x6 D
9ae 2RC 9db
SS [C]-D-E♭ E♭-E♭ x7 D
KY
15de 11.1db 11.1db/se 11.1db’/se 2RC 9db
or 7.1db/se
AR [C]-D-B♭-A- D-B♭-D-[C]-A- D-B♭-D-[C]- A-G+*-G+*- E♭-E♭ x7 D
G+*-G+*-A G+*-G+*-A A-G+*-G+*-E♭ E♭ x3
15de 11.1db 11.1db/se 11.1db’/se 2RC 4.2dm/de 2RC 2RC 9db
or 7.1db/se
YG [C]-D-B♭-A- D-B♭-D-[C]-A- D-B♭-D-[C]- A-G+*-G+*- E♭-E♭ x7 G-E♭-E♭ x3 G-G E♭-E♭ x7 D
G+*-G+*-A G+*-G+*-A A-G+*-G+*-E♭ E♭ x2
15de 11.1db 11.1db/se 11.1db’/se 2RC 4.2dm/de 2RC 2RC 9db
or 7.1db/se
SS [C]-D-B♭-A- D-B♭-D-[C]-A- D-B♭-D-[C]- A-G+*-G+*- E♭-E♭ x7 G-E♭-E♭ x3 G-G E♭-E♭ x7 D
G+*-G+*-A G+*-G+*-A x2 A-G+*-G+*-E♭ E♭ x3
Simon: Shakuhachi Honkyoku 47
9ae’’ 9ae’’’
KY [C]-D-D-E♭-E♭-D [C]-D-D-E♭-G-E♭-E♭-D
9ae’’’
AR [C]-D-D-E♭-G-E♭-E♭-D
9ae’’ 9ae’’’
YG [C]-D-D-E♭-E♭-D [C]-D-D-E♭-G-E♭-E♭-D
9ae’’ 9ae’’’
SS [C]-D-D-E♭-E♭-D [C]-D-D-E♭-G-E♭-E♭-D x3
2 2db 2 2db
KY D♭*-D x3 D D♭*-D x3 D
2 2db 2
AR D♭*-D x3 D D♭*-D x3
2 2db
YG D♭*-D x3 D
2 2db 2 2db 2 2db 2
SS D♭*-D x3 D D♭*-D x3 D D♭*-D x3 D D♭*-D x3
For each dan, all occurring pitch cells are given. They are aligned vertically to match
intervallic/pitch patterns wherever possible. See example below.
The left column gives cell numbers for main pitch cells. Some variants are indicated with “v,”
e.g., 3v.
Versions in which cells appear are given in the second column from the right:
The far right column shows corresponding m2-M3 (miyakobushi) trichords on D, G, or A. (NT =
non-trichord tone, [ ] = absent notes)
Article
CITATIONS READS
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2 authors:
All content following this page was uploaded by Deirdre Bolger on 03 September 2015.
Niall Griffith, Department of Computer Science and Information Systems, University of Limerick, Ireland
niall.griffith@ul.ie
Abstract
A method of analysing timbre in melody that takes account of its multidimensional
characteristic is described. The aim of this analysis technique is to uncover the role of timbre
as a structural element in melody. Gaining an understanding of how an abstract,
multidimensional sound phenomenon such as timbre is used in a structured manner can lead
to important insights into potential cognitive abilities; our ability to form mental
representations of abstract phenomena so that they can be conserved and, subsequently,
used in an organised or structured manner. This method of analysis comprises two main
components, a first which carries out a time-frequency analysis of the melodic signal and
processes the signal data using DSP techniques that model aspects of auditory processing
before calculating the timbre descriptors, and a second that represents the melody in terms of
its timbral changes rather than its absolute timbral values. A self-organising feature map is
used to reduce the timbral detail and the dimensionality of the timbral representation, and to
contrast-enhance the timbral changes. An example of the implementation of this analysis
technique is presented using an extract from a Japanese shakuhachi honkyoku melody,
chosen because of its accepted exploitation of timbre.
Introduction
Traditionally, analyses of the structure of recorded music have been notation-based in their focus,
concentrating on the musical elements of pitch and rhythm. If the musical style being analysed is
structured principally through an interaction of these two musical elements, such an analyses can
yield a very comprehensive account its structure. The fact that pitch and rhythm based analyses of
musical structure have been so popular is due, in no small part, to the fact that both these musical
elements are of central importance in Western music. However, by focussing on pitch and rhythm, we
are neglecting the possible contribution of another, very important, musical phenomenon, that of
timbre.
The timbre or sound quality of a sonic event plays a very important role in our perception of sounds
and is considered by some as the most important sound phenomenon due to its contribution to sound
identification and discrimination (Schellenberg et al, 1999; Menon et al, 2001). However, despite its
importance, the comprehensive analysis of its use in musical structuring has been hampered by its,
now, well accepted multidimensionality. Unlike pitch and rhythm, which can be well described by
changes along a single physical dimension, the timbre of a sound results from the interaction of
several physical attributes, particularly frequency and amplitude and can be described by several
descriptors. To use a sound element as a structuring device in creating music, it has to be possible to
structure that element in a systematic manner. Pitch structures take the form of scales, which consist
of orderings of discrete pitch entities according to their frequency and rhythmic structures consist of a
hierarchy of relative durations. These basic structures allow one to build up complex pitch and
rhythmic relationships that lend coherence to musical compositions. Attempts to build timbre
structures that show the same hierarchical characteristics as those of pitch and rhythm are fraught
with difficulty given its abstract, multidimensional nature (Lerdahl, 1987). However, our ability to
conserve, identify and discriminate timbre strongly suggests that we must employ some mechanism of
structuring it and these mechanisms may also apply in musical contexts.
The extent to which timbre is used in a structured manner in music creation differs depending on the
musical style in question. The dominant feature of Western music is its reliance on pitch and harmonic
pitch relations as the principal carrier of musical structure, the contrast between the timbres of
individual instruments is exploited but, as a structural element, it plays a lesser role than pitch and
rhythm. In contrast, melodic music, which does not rely on harmony for structure, is more likely to
exploit timbre in this capacity. Given that a vast number of musical cultures worldwide are primarily
melodic, non-Western melodic musical styles provide a very good platform for the investigation of
timbre structures. This paper employs an example from a Japanese shakuhachi honkyoku melody to
describe the implementation of a multidimensional analysis of timbre in a melodic context.
As a form bearing musical element, timbre plays a role in the internal structure of tone-cells.
Gützwiller and Bennet have shown that individual tone-cells have a tri-partite structure caused by
variations in pitch, tone quality and dynamics. Such variations are a result of the execution of the
techniques of meri and kari, which flatten and sharpen the tone respectively. Both are executed by
movements of the head. A meri tone has a sound that is softer and less stable in terms of pitch. In
contrast, a kari tone is strong, with a more stable pitch and higher amplitude and, as a result, is
considered the "main sound" of a tone-cell1. Gützwiller and Bennett describe the evolution within a
tone-cell as generally constituting a change from a meri to a kari and back to a meri. As will be shown
in the section on the timbre descriptors, this meri-kari evolution has implications for the timbre of the
tone-cells and the change in their timbre over time. Thus, using Tsang's concept of timbre
segmentation, each of the three phases of a tone-cell may constitute a timbral segment. Given this
pre-defined timbral structure, it provides a very good platform for investigating the effectiveness of
the timbre analysis technique in extracting significant changes. In describing the implementation of
the multidimensional timbre analysis, use is made of an extract from a recording of a famous
honkyoku melody, "Kokû", performed by shakuhachi master, Kozan Kitahara.
1
From communication with shakuhachi player, Jürg Zürmuhle (9/9/01).
anchor in this, often very long, melody. The transcription and waveform of this motif is shown in
figure 1.
The STFT is implemented using a sample frequency of 44.1kHz and a window length of 2048 samples,
thus giving a frequency resolution (∆f) of 43Hz and a time resolution (∆t) of 0.0116 seconds. This
time-dependent representation of the melodic signal will be preserved throughout subsequent stages
of the analysis. Before calculating the timbre descriptors, the signal data undergoes the following
processes:
1. A peak detection routine is applied to each time frame (t) of the input signal, which discards
spurious components that arise as a result of the windowing applied in the STFT calculation.
2. Equal-loudness curves (Fletcher and Munson, 1933) are applied to each of the spectral
components for every t. This converts the "sound intensity level" (dB) of a component to
"loudness level" (dB) by taking account of its frequency. Thus, values of "loudness level", also
known as "phons", are measured on a frequency-compensated decibel scale.
3. A simultaneous masking algorithm is implemented for each value of t, thus isolating those
components that are most perceptually significant. Auditory masking is not simply a function of
the relative intensity of components, but also relates to the frequency resolving characteristics of
the peripheral auditory system, which is evident in the frequency response of the basilar
membrane (BM). The frequency sensitivity of the BM is tonotopically organised so that certain
points along it display a maximum responses to particular frequencies and a progressive decay in
the response to these frequencies as one either increases or decreases the input frequencies. The
limit of the response to a particular frequency is governed by the width of the frequency band,
referred to as the "critical band", around a point of maximum response. Thus, if two components
that are so close in frequency that they fall in the same critical band are sounded simultaneously,
their BM response will interact. Based upon this understanding, this masking algorithm involves
the generation of the BM response to the input frequencies, known as the "excitation pattern"
(Moore and Glasberg, 1983, 1986 and 1987). To represent the excitation pattern, an
approximation of the shape of an auditory filter response is applied to the energy calculated at
each point along the BM, broken into steps of ¼ critical-band. This approximation is generated
using the linear gammatone filter function (Johannesma, 1972, Patterson et al, 1995). It is from
the excitation pattern that the unmasked components are isolated before the calculation of timbre
descriptors.
Spectral centroid
This descriptor accounts for the concentration of energy in the spectrum of the input tone is correlated
with the attribute of brightness. A high spectral centroid value implies a concentration of energy at the
higher end of the spectrum, while a low spectral centroid value indicates that the energy is
concentrated in the lower frequencies. It is calculated for each value of t as follows:
⎛ N ⎞ equation 1
⎜ ∑ f n an ⎟
centroid (t ) = ⎝ n =1 ⎠,
N
∑ n
n =1
a
where t is the current time (in seconds), n is the partial index, N is the total number of partials, fn is
the frequency of partial n and an is the amplitude in linear intensity (W/m2) of partial n. The resulting
centroid(t) value is normalised by the fundamental, fo, calculated for the spectrum at time t.
Irregularity
The calculation used here defines irregularity as the sum of the squares of the difference in the
amplitude of adjacent components (Jensen, 1994). In other words, the irregularity value is based on
the magnitude of amplitude change between adjacent partials and is, therefore, related to the spectral
envelope at each time interval, t. Thus, a tone whose spectrum at time, t, is highly fluctuating will
yield a high irregularity value. Due to its reported perceptual significance (Krimphoff, 1994; Jensen,
1994), it is included among the timbre descriptors used in this analysis. It is calculated as follows:
N
∑ (a n − a n+1 ) , equation 2
irregulari ty (t ) = n =1
N
∑a
n =1
2
n
where t is the current time (seconds), n is the partial index, N is the total number of partials and an is
the amplitude of the nth partial (W/m2). This irregularity calculation yields values that are generally
below 1 and never any higher than 2.
Harmonicity
This attribute is generally described as the balance between the harmonic and inharmonic components
of a spectrum. The harmonicity calculation is composed of two parts, a first which calculates the
percentage frequency deviation from harmonic values, %fdiff_harmn , for each component, n, of a
complex at time, t, and a second part that calculates the proportion of the total intensity of the
spectrum relating to harmonic, %harmn , and inharmonic, %inharmn ,components for every n and
time, t, and which is is also expressed as a percentage. The %harmn is weighted by the %fdiff_harmn
for each n and a total inharmonicity value for time, t, is found through summation, which is expressed
as a percentage giving %harm_fdifftotal. A total value of %inharmn is also found through summation for
time, t, and expressed as a percentage giving %inharmtotal. The final harmonicity value is derived by
expressing the relationship between between %harm_fdifftotal and %inharmtotal as a signal-to-noise
ratio (SNR), which is defined in dBs, as follows:
presence of stochastic components in the spectrum will have implications for the its calculated
roughness value. In relation to shakuhachi melody, a consideration of roughness is important as the
presence of noise in the shakuhachi sound is a desired characteristic. The standard "big sound" in
shakuhachi blowing techniques is produced by directing about 80% of air over the top of the flute,
resulting in the characteristic "windy" sound of shakuhachi music.
The calculation of roughness is based on a model of roughness developed by Vassilakis (2001), which
integrates a psychoacoustical model of dissonance (Sethares, 1993), which focuses on frequency
distance and a calculation of roughness that concentrates on the temporal aspect of roughness, i.e.
the phenomenon of beating. The calculation of temporal roughness used is that of Vassilakis (2001)
and equates the energy of the amplitude fluctuations caused by the interaction of components in the
time domain with the perceived roughness.
Given two components with amplitudes A1 and A2, the roughness sensation resulting from the
amplitude fluctuations, Rtemp, is calculated as follows:
3.11
⎛ 2 A2 ⎞
Rtemp = ( A1 A2 ) × 0.5⎜⎜ ⎟⎟ , equation 4
0.1
⎝ A1 + A2 ⎠
(
d ( f1 , f 2 , A1 , A2 ) = A12 e
− as f1 − f 2
−e
−bs f1 − f 2
), equation 5
where a=3.5, b=5.75, s= d* , s1=0,0207, s2=18.96 and d* is the frequency point of maximum
(s1 f1 + f 2 )
dissonance, which is set at 0.24.
Integrating the two elements of the final roughness calculation gives the the following expression for
the two components in a spectrum:
( ).
3.11
⎛ 2 A2 ⎞
R( f1 , f 2 , A1 , A2 ) = ( A1 + A2 ) × 0.5⎜⎜
− as f1 − f 2 −bs f1 − f 2 equation 6
0.1
⎟⎟ ×e −e
⎝ A1 + A2 ⎠
In comparing the four timbre descriptors it has proved very useful to normalise the timbre values. This
normalisation is carried out by dividing the timbre values at every time interval, t, by the maximum
timbre value of all values of t. This limits the timbral range between 0 and 1 and allows for easy
comparison of the timbral measures.
Time integration
The timbral descriptor calculations described in the previous sections were calculated for a value of ∆t
of 0.0116 seconds, giving very detailed time-dependent representations that exceed the level of
granularity at which we are thought to perceive owing to limitations in temporal resolving ability of our
auditory system. Therefore, it was decided to apply a temporal integration to the time-dependent
timbral representations to yield representations that are more perceptually valid. This temporal
integration involves the "smearing" or averaging of temporal detail. The degree of the averaging is
determined by the chosen constant of integration, τ , over which the averaging is performed. The
method of integration used here is taken from the process of intensity summation employed in the
"long-time" theories of temporal integration (Munson, 1947; Green, 1960; Green and Swets, 1966;
Zwislocki, 1960 and 1969), which presume values of τ in the order of hundreds of milliseconds. The
value of τ employed here is set at 0.2 seconds. The "smoothing" effect of the temporal integration can
be seen in the figure 2 for a single shakuhachi tone.
Figure 2: Comparison of non-integrated and integrated spectral centroid of shakuhachi tone, re or G4.
Tsang (2002) and Malloch (2004) both tackled this question in the context of 20th century
compositions. Their analysis techniques, while different from that described here, offer very useful
insights into issues that need to be taken into account when analysing the role of timbre in a musical
context. The most crucial point emphasised by both Tsang and Malloch is the importance of relative
timbral values or timbral change. "Change" is considered an important phenomenon in cognition, if not
more significant than absolute values (Grossberg, 2000). In both analysis techniques, different
degrees of timbral change are related to structural points of varying significance. Both Tsang and
Malloch are concerned with reducing the timbral data with a view to investigating patterns of timbre
use that coincide with elements of musical structure. To this end, Tsang introduces the notion of
"timbral segments" that are isolated on the basis of their contrasting timbre and their relative
salience. Similarly, Malloch defined contrasting textures as A-textures and B-textures. Thus, in the
current analysis, it was considered necessary to find a method of clustering timbres on the basis of
some criteria of similarity to reduce the timbral data.
Grey (1975 and 1977) employed a multidimensional scaling technique (MDS) to create a timbre space
of different instrumental timbres that is representative of a cognitive map of timbre similarity.
However, this timbre classification technique required performing listening tests in which listeners
gave verbal ratings of similarity. For analysis purposes, what is desired is a purely analytical method
of deriving clustering timbres within a multidimensional timbre space but in a manner that is
cognitively relevant. Attempts to do this have led to the use of neural networks, particularly self-
organising maps (de Poli and Tonella, 1993; de Poli et al, 1993; Cose, de Poli and Lauzanna, 1994; de
Poli and Prandoni, 1997). Cosi et al (1994) used a combination of auditory modelling and Self-
Organising Feature Maps (SOFM) to classify instrumental timbres in a multidimensional space and
achieved results that compared very well with Grey's subjective timbre space generated using MDS.
The analysis method described here employs a SOFM (Kohonen, 1989) to cluster the timbre values for
every time frame, which due to time integration, has a value of ∆t of 0.2 seconds. The similarity
between the timbral events is measured by the Euclidean distance. In implementing this classification
two issues have to be carefully considered as they will strongly affect the final representation of
timbral variation within the melody analysed:
1. The number of categories or classes into which the timbral events will be clustered.
A high number of categories implies that each category will be represented by a smaller portion of the
timbre space and will capture the finer details of timbral change within the melody. However, with too
many categories it will be more difficult to derive a structured use of timbre in the melody.
Conversely, a small number of categories will mean that a larger portion of the timbre space will be
represented by each cluster, which will have the effect of smoothing the noisiness in the timbre
representation but may also cause smaller but potentially structurally significant timbral changes to be
discarded. To deal with this problem it was decided to carry out a number of classifications using a
different number of categories as part of every analysis, with the hope of achieving a hierarchical
relationship between the timbral change representations resulting from the use of a different number
of categories. As an initial test, three types of categorisations were used; a 10-by-10 (10x10) yielding
100 categories, 5-by-5 (5х5) yielding 25 categories, a 3-by-3 (3х3) categorisation yielding 9
categories and a 2-by-2 (2х2) giving 4 categories. It was hypothesised that the lower resolution
categorisations, such as 2х2 would highlight only the most significant changes while the higher
resolution categorisations, for example 10x10 and 5х5, would capture the smaller changes. Because
of the simplification of the timbral representation resulting from this classification, it was decided to
refer to the final representations of timbral change in the melodies as "timbral reductions".
2. The number of timbral dimensions (1, 2, 3 or 4D) on which the classification will be based.
As well as clustering the timbral data on the basis of similarity, the implementation of the SOFM also
has the effect of reducing the dimensionality of the timbre space by mapping the 3D or 4D space onto
a 2D feature map. In this analysis, the timbral data is presented to the SOFM in two-dimensional
(2D), three-dimensional (3D) and four-dimensional (4D) form and the results of each compared.
Figure 3. 4D, 3x3 timbral reduction of standard against pitch contour motif from "Kokû" performed by Kitahara.
The 4D reduction takes account of the inter-relationship between all four timbre descriptors and this is
reflected in the resulting timbral reduction. Due to the interaction of all four descriptors in the
classification, only the most significant changes are highlighted (circled in figure 3). Unlike 4D case,
the 2D and 3D timbral reductions cannot take account of all the timbre descriptors in a single
representation. For example, a 2D timbral reduction can only take account of pairs of descriptors at a
time, implying that one would have to compare six 2D timbral reductions for each type of
classification, 2x2, 3x3, 5x5 and 10x10. In order to make the 2D and 3D timbral reductions easier to
interpret, it was decided to integrate all the timbral reductions that result from both dimensionalities.
The resulting representations are called "summary timbral reductions" (STR). A 2D STR, for example,
comprises the mean of the timbral reductions of the pair-wise timbral classifications. The STR
emphasises features of timbral change that are consistent across all of the component timbral
reductions, thus, if a "progression" occurs in all six of the 2D timbral reductions, it will feature as a
"strong prolongation" in the STR. Figure 4 presents an example of a 2D and 3D, 3x3 STR for the motif
performed by Kitahara. The significant points of timbral change evident in the 4D timbral reduction in
figure 3 are also evident in the STRs, with the further indication of their relative significance.
Figure 4. 2D, 3x3 STR (left) and 3D, 3x3 STR (right) of standard motif from performance of "Kokû" by Kitahara.
To get a clearer picture of the relationship between the derived STR and the evolution of the timbre
measures over time in this motif, the 2D, 3x3 STR is plotted against the "mean timbral contour",
shown in figure 5a, and the first-order-difference (1OD) of the "mean timbral contour", shown in
figure 5b. The "mean timbral contour" is calculated as the mean of the four normalised, time
integrated timbre descriptors. A comparison of the STRs and both timbral contours indicates that the
reduction is effective in isolating points of significant timbre change.
Figure 5. Mean timbral contour (a) and 1OD of mean timbral contour (b) against 2D, 3x3 STR of motif in "Koku"
performed by Kitahara.
A comparison of the 4D, 3x3 timbral reduction in figure 3 and the 2D and 3D, 3x3 STRs in figure 4
reveals a consistency in the occurrence of points of significant timbral change. These common points,
which have been highlighted with red circles, occur at the attack points of each repetition of the basic
motif and at the end of the second motif. A clearer picture of the relationship between these three
timbral reductions is given in the outline "summary timbral reductions" in figure 6 (left), which were
derived by hand from the timbral reductions and STRs. Figure 6 (right) shows the relationship
between the 2D, 3x3 and 3D,5x5 STRs and a 4D, 10x10 timbral reduction.
A comparison of the 2D and 3D outline STRs and the 4D outline timbral reductions in both examples in
figure 6 indicate a strong relationship between them, especially in terms of the consistent presence of
significant points of timbre change (highlighted by blue circles). The relationship between the three
dimensionalities can be described as hierarchical due to the decreasing level of change detail evident
from the 2D STR to the 4D timbral reduction. The 4D timbral reduction provides the clearest picture of
an overall change structure but does not indicate the relative significance of the changes. In the 2D
and 3D STRs for both the 3x3 and 5x5 conditions, a relative significance between the three significant
points of change can be observed, with the first "progression" as the most dominant.
Figure 6: (Left) A comparison of 2D,3x3 STR (a), 3D, 3x3 STR (b) and 4D, 10x10 timbral reduction (c).
(Right) A comparison of 2D,3x3 STR (a), 3D,5x5 STR (b) and 4D, 10x10 timbral reduction(c) of motif.
In terms of using the timbral reductions to uncover a role of timbre as a structuring element, an
interesting question relates to the extent to which these timbral change representations account for
the tripartite, meri-kari, form of tone-cells in honkyoku melodies (Gutzwiller and Bennett, 1991). In
terms of timbral change, a progression from meri to kari involves a movement from an area of less
stability (meri) to an area of greater stability (kari). The problem with attempting to isolate the meri
and kari portions of a tone cell is that they do not have a prescribed relative duration. The dominance
of the meri or kari sound in a tone-cell is governed by the interpretation and technical ability of the
musician. In their present form, the outline STRs and timbral reductions do not show a clear pattern of
timbral change within the tone-cells, indeed, the timbre of the tone-cell appears to be in a constant
state of flux with change values oscillating around the category of "weak prolongation". However, one
could consider the significant points of timbre change at the attack and decay portions of each tone-
cell as constituting the meri portion of the tone, with the lesser changes that are characterised as
"weak prolongations" in the 4D timbral reductions being considered as the more stable kari portions.
Conclusions
We have outlined a method of analysing timbre use in melody with a view to relating values of timbre
change to aspects of melodic structure and to implement this analysis in a perceptually relevant
manner. The preprocessing of the signal data before calculating the timbre descriptors, the
subsequent time integration of the time-dependent timbre measures and the use of a SOFM to cluster
the timbre events, to reduce the dimensionality of the timbre representation and to reduce the timbral
information for easier interpretation all give perceptual and cognitive relevance to this analysis
technique. The most promising result gained from applying this analysis method to the investigation of
timbre in an extract of a shakuhachi melody is the hierarchical relationship between the timbral
reductions of differing dimensionalities. Such a representation can indicate the role of timbre at
different structural levels within a melody. For example, the 4D timbral reductions give prominence to
the most significant changes while smoothing out the smaller ones, thus highlighting its role in the
higher level structuring of the melody. The 2D and 3D STRs, on the other hand, do not indicate as
clearly these significant points of change but, in detailing the smaller changes indicate the contribution
of timbre to finer melodic structure. In the case of shakuhachi honkyoku, the higher granularity of the
timbre change representation provided by the 2D and 3D STRs can indicate the meri-kari structure of
individual tone-cells.
The analysis technique presented here is still undergoing development and its further development will
require taking into account certain issues. Firstly, given that shakuhachi honkyoku is an oral musical
tradition a particular melody can show differences from one performance to another. Therefore, in
attempting to uncover a structured use of timbre in shakuhachi honkyoku melodies, a single motif
from one version of a melody is not sufficient. What is required is an analysis of the same motif in
different versions of the same melody to obtain an understanding of the general characteristics of
timbre use. Bolger (2004) carried out such an analysis on two characteristic motifs, including the one
used here, from three different performances of "Kokû". This initial investigation revealed a pattern of
similarities at a higher level of structure along with variations at a finer level. Secondly, although the
application of the SOFM reduces timbre data, there still remains a need to identify and classify the less
significant patterns of change revealed by the 2D and 3D STRs. Lastly, any conclusions regarding the
role of timbre in melody have to be supported by input from native musicians to ensure that they have
emic relevance. To this end,further development of this work will require the input of
ethnomusicological investigation and experimentation.
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Discography
Japon, Sankyoku, Ensemble Yonin no Kaï, Ocora C560070, Radio France, 1995.
Ro and ro kan octave tuning problems are often the result of 1/2 the bore length having
too much or too little volume (space). If you slide a chopstick or two into the top half of
the bore, ro kan should sharpen considerably. If it balances the two pitches, you can fill in
the upper half or remove in the bottom half.
A few other options would be to spot fill at the 1/4 and 3/4 points in the bore or remove at
the 1/2 point.
Opening from the choke point to the end of the flute will most likely sharpen both ro and
ro kan. Also, you might want to doublecheck that you are blowing ro kan with enough
power. It can be easy to play this note flat.
Some possible fixes for ro are looking at the choke point, opening up the bottom end,
adjusting the top end opening, adjusting in the middle of the bore. However, it's always
better to look at all the problems of the flute at once as well as the strong points, figure
out all the possible fixes of multiple problems without messing up the strengths, then try
to do things in the most efficient way.
If you still have a problem, note that a flat kan means that the area of the bore ~1/2 the
distance between the last open tone hole and the top of the utaguchi is too large. In your
case this would mean the point just slightly beyond the midpoint of the flute. Of course
this also means that the area above must also be filled proportionately so that the taper of
the bore is more or less even. Bamboo culms grow differently and have different
proportions, and it is not always possible to have a purely jinashi flute in tune.
Alternately, you can spend a huge amount of time opening up the whole bottom of the
bore, but if the bore is too wide the tone and response of the flute will suffer, even if it is
in tune.
Depending on where the additions are in the bore and the overall bore profile, there are
often times when an action will influence pitch and not tone or even tone and not pitch.
Or, maybe disproportionate amounts of each. Also, it's not always easy to exactly mimic
the influence of a bead with ji. It's more of an approximation.
Perry and Toby make good points about temperature and overall bore profile. Using spot
tuning to correct 30-40 cent octave differences can cause problems in other areas. That
much difference usually suggests that half the bore is disproportionately larger or smaller
than the other half. So, it's likely best to get the bore profile dimensions closer to an
established average. That should take care of the major problems before starting on spot
tuning.
The extra "compliance" (as the scientists say) added by the fingerholes is relatively
minor, especially on the shakuhachi with its small holes (as compared to sax or flute, for
instance). What effect it does have is manifested as a slight lowering of pitch when
compared to an identical bore without such fingerholes, but the effect is global, and does
not change between the octaves. There is a further effect called the "tonehole lattice
effect", in which a series of open holes acts as a kind of high-pass filter. Smaller holes
have a low cutoff frequency and so give a mellower tone, while larger holes have the
opposite effect. I think this is what you are referring to.
The sounding frequency of any hole in the bore is determined by two quantities: the
position and the size. As a rough guide, variations of 10% in the hole diameter, or 1% in
distance to the acoustical top of the instrument cause variations in tuning of about 10
cents.
True octaves depend on having the paritals line up correctly, and this is a function of the
bore profile, not the fingerholes. Because a certain amount of what is called "mode
locking" exists, bore profiles can vary somewhat and still have at least some of the
partials at the correct frequencies, but this can break down as you go higher, giving a lot
of trouble (for us) in the dai-kan. And in fact up there moving or changing the postion
and/or size of the fingerholes can have a large effect, but not so in the otsu or kan.
Trouble with any note in the otsu or kan almost always can be traced to a bore problem at
a displacement antinode of the fundamental of the problem note, or of one of its
significant partials.
It should also be realized that there is no "ideal" bore, just as there is no ideal animal or
ideal child. Each bore is a compromise, with strengths and weaknesses. For instance a
thinner bore tends to make the high notes easier to sound and the response lively, but at
the cost of thinness of tone and poorer response in the lows. A wide bore gives a strong
low register, but the sound is often rather dull and lacking focus, with slower response
and a difficult top end. I believe that what we wish to achieve is "balance".
One further note: I have been studying the acoustic effects of sharp fingerhole edges in
the bore. These always lead to significant acoustic losses, especially with small holes
such as on the shakuhachi, and especially at louder playing volumes. It is acoustically
very advantageous to undercut all your fingerholes, or at the very least to round the inner
edges. Rounding the edges on the outside is also highly recommended.
That all being said, you do have to get within certain limits in order to have a decent bore,
and this is where the published bore profiles are extremely valuable. Those will at least
get you in the right neighborhood, and from there it is the "art" that Perry speaks of that
can create a truly outstanding, balanced instrument as opposed to a merely adequate one.
But if you are outside that "sweet spot" no amount of fiddling is ever going to solve all
the various problems of response and intonation that you will encounter.
There is a reason that dedicated shakuhachi makers study and apprentice themselves for
years: it is to give them a solid foundation in the basics and a feel for and control of the
effects of fine adjustments to those basics.
There are only two "mathematically correct" woodwind bores: a cylinder and a cone.
Theoretically, only these pure shapes produce partials at perfect harmonic intervals. I'll
come back to that in a minute...
Essentially what is happening is that a standing wave is set up between the utaguchi and
the first open tone hole (although that is super-oversimplified). That determines the
fundamental frequency. However along with that frequency, the air column vibrates in
smaller segments, which (for musical purposes) should be exactly 1/2, 1/3, 1/4, 1/5...1/n
the wavelength of the fundamental. These sound as contributing pitches and add richness
to the fundamental: 1/2 is the octave, 1/3 the twelfth, 1/4 the second octave, etc.
If the bore is not of the correct shape, you get something like 1/1(fundamental), 1/2.1,
1/3.2, 1/4.4...or perhaps 1/1.9, 1/2.8, 1/3.7--the ratios are incorrect and the partials
inharmonic in respect to the fundamental.
This works OK in the otsu, where the fundamental predominates. Mistuned partials can
even be desirable, giving a complex, "hollow" "woody" tone. Many jinashi flutes have
this characteristic to some extent or another.
The problem begins in the kan. When you overblow to the kan, what you are doing is
creating a condition where the fundamental is inhibited and the first partial (1/2: the
octave) predominates. If the bore creates non-harmonic partials, your kan register will not
be in tune with the otsu.
The dai-kan gets even nastier, as it uses a shorter air jet and faster airstream to inhibit the
fundamental, first and second partials and so jumps to sounding the third partial (1/4:
second octave). Since this partial is weaker than the lower partials, and harder to maintain
in a bore optimized for a decent fundamental, it must be close to harmonic to sound at all.
If it is not, and is missing in the otsu and kan, that is not a huge problem; its absence will
only make the sound a bit less edgy, as the fundamental or first partial predominates. But
if you blow so as to inhibit the fundamental and first and second partials and there is no
decent third partial, you won't get the note in the dai-kan, no matter how good your
embouchure.
There is also a thing called "mode-locking", in which partials that should sound slightly
out-of-tune will be pulled into a harmonic relationship with other strong frequencies
present. It's a bit like "snap to grid" in a graphics app: if its close, it will jump into place,
but after a certain point it will not do so. So there is some "forgiveness" for a bore which
normally would create inharmonic partials, but only up to a point.
Now, let's back up a minute. The bore of the shakuhachi is basically a reverse cone,
which is certainly not a cylinder, so what gives with that? Essentially, this acts
mathematically like a cylinder, however with a modified impedance curve which tends to
increase pitch stability with blowing pressure. It stretches the partials somewhat, which
helps to offset an acoustic phenomenon whereby blowing harder raises the pitch, making
it possible to blow the lower notes harder and upper notes softer and stay in tune.
Piccolos are made in two styles: cylindrical and reverse conical, with the former used in
bands where volume is needed, and the latter used in orchestras where more control is
desirable. Recorders and pre-Boehm simple system flutes also have reverse-conical
bores.
So generally, as long as the reverse cone is constant (possibly with a widening at the end
to bring the partials of the lowest notes into tune (let's not go into it)), it will act
mathematically almost like a cylinder (and actually help compensate some defects of a
cylinder under real-world playing conditions), but not if the angle of conicity changes in
the main part of the bore. That will create inharmonic partials.
Of course there are small local changes to the cone angle in the bore of all reverse-conical
(and conical and even cylindrical instruments), which makers have come up with after
long empirical trial-and-error experimenting, and which are necessary to compensate for
many factors in actual instruments, such as the extra compliances introduced by side
holes, some characteristics of the way the air jet works (in flutes), etc.
There is another factor to consider, apart from generally incorrect bore profiles. There are
two important points for any standing wave: 1) a pressure node, where the air molecules
do not move, but alternately get compressed and rarefied, and 2) a displacement antinode,
where the air molecules move back and forth, but where the pressure does not change. If
you constrict the bore at a node, it raises the pitch, but if you constrict it at an antinode, it
lowers the pitch. If you widen (instead of constrict) the bore at those points it has the
opposite effect.
So perhaps you have a constriction at a certain point that is a node for note A in the kan,
but an antinode for kan note B. What happens? Even if your otsu A and B notes are in
tune because you have put the fingerholes in the right places, (and that point of
perturbation does not lie in a critical point for those otsu notes), the kan note A will be
sharp and the kan note B will be flat :-/
So you are dealing with a whole bunch of interactive factors: the overall bore profile,
local variations in the bore, and the size and position of the fingerholes, any one of which
changes tuning of a given note to some extent, but which affects the partials differently.
The main point of the game is to correctly align all factors so that the flute has decent
intonation in all three registers, and further has balanced response and timbre as well.
Shakuhachi makers, after a few hundred years of trial and error, have come up with some
reasonable bores which behave decently and allow for instruments with adequate
intonation and response across the compass of the instrument. There is some wiggle room
due to mode locking and other factors--a bit of range in which we can adjust flutes: "fine
tune" them, or create our own characteristic response or timbre. Generally, though, the
bore profile remains pretty much the same, or the profile is altered across the range--
keeping the general cone angle--without large local variations.
The intonation of jiari flutes depends in large part on the correct bore profile no matter
what the hole position (at least in terms of correct intonation of the octaves and
harmonics and response up higher, which is related), but the overall diameter has a great
effect on the timbre. This can be adjusted while keeping the geometry correct for
intonation (by enlarging or reducing the whole bore while keeping the same shape). In
addition there is much that can be done in this direction in the upper part of the bore,
which corresponds to the headjoint on a concert flute. A great deal of the global character
of the sound originates there, and adjustments can be made to it (to some extent) which
change the timbre without overly affecting the intonation, although response in the third
octave especially can be tricky.
My sensei told me that the area from around 6-8 cm down from the top should be slightly
widened before starting the contraction, and adjustments to this area can be quite critical
to the tone and overall response
Fine tuning the bore is the main challenge in constructing a quality shakuhachi. It is a
combination of mathematics, luck, educated guess, intuition, patience and perseverance.
This process is, essentially, adding and/or preferably removing space along various areas
of the bore until all the tones play well. The actual space along the bore that will need to
be removed or added will most likely be minute, but nonetheless, critical to the potential
sound quality of the instrument.
Each note has corresponding 'critical points' along the bore which can be adjusted to
affect tone and tuning. For the low octave notes, these points are found at the 1/2 point
between the blowing edge and the open hole of the note being played (1/4 & 3/4 points
for second octave), as well as directly under the open hole. If a particular note is not
playing well or out of tune, it can be corrected by adding or removing space at one or
more of these areas. To check if space needs to be added, fold up a small piece of wet
newspaper (approximately 1 1/2" by 1/2") and apply it to the 1/2 point in the bore. Play
the flute to check for tone improvement. (A long split bamboo stick with foam rubber tied
to the end works well to slide the newspaper to the desired spots.) If it improves the note,
the newspaper can be removed and the area can be built up with a dab of glue and
sawdust, ji paste, or paste resin. If there is no improvement, try adding newspaper to the
other critical points. Then try adding in different combinations, then at every centimeter
along the bore. You can also experiment with smaller or larger pieces. If there is no
improvement after exhausting all the possibilities, you will need to remove space at one
or more of the critical points. Various tools will work to remove space. You can wrap a
thin strip of coarse sandpaper around the end of a dowel or weld a 1/2" section of a
bastard file to a metal rod. A dremel sanding drum bit on the end of a long rod also works
well. If the tone improves after grinding one or more critical areas, stop and move on to
the next note that needs improvement. If there is still no improvement or the tone sounds
worse, the areas will need to be refilled. It is also possible that a combination of adding
and removing will be needed. This is where experience helps. A good rule of thumb is to
exhaust every possible simple solution before attempting the complicated combinations.
Altering the critical points for one tone can also affect the other notes as well so it is
important to work slowly to get a feel of what is happening to the flute on a whole.
It takes patience and experience to develop a mental map of the shakuhachi bore using
this fine tuning method. It may be helpful to work a little every day or two to slowly get
to know the peculiarities of each flute. Each is unique, requiring an approach which is
beyond pure mechanics. The shakuhachi is much more than physics. Listen to the
bamboo.
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1. Introduction
The history of Zen-Buddhism in the West is well-known for its uncon
ventional tales of monks chopping off their arms, of their burning of Buddha
statues, and their suggestions that one kill the Buddha if one meets him – these
images having been spread through such propagators of Zen 禪 in the West, like
Daisetsu TeitarØ Suzuki 大拙諦太朗鈴木 (1870-1966). As a result Zen in the West
is mainly conceived as an iconoclastic, anti-literal, anti-formal and highly mystico-
spiritual form of Buddhism. The fact that Zen in the West was mainly received
in its Japanese form has also led to the conception that it is a typical expression of
‘Japaneseness’, a reflection of Yamato-damashii 大和魂. Modern scholars such as
Bernard Faure (1991 and 1993) have shown, in fascinating depth, that there is a gap
between Zen rhetoric in the texts and the historical reality of Zen.
Early Chinese Chan 禪 did have a degree of conformity with its social environ
ment as, without this, it could not have survived and developed into a strong
religious movement in the centuries to follow. It was, then, by no means the anti-
and a-social “freak” of Chinese Buddhism as is reflected in some East-Asian
sources and their modern epigones. An indication of this is that the relatively early
historiographical tradition of Chan (cf. Schmidt-Glintzer 1982) did not suffer a
setback when it was transferred to Japan (mainly in the Song period).
Rinzai-sh¨ 臨濟宗 inherited the Chinese tradition of demonstrating a conti
nuous, and thus legitimate, transmission of the dharma – the “transmission of the
lamp,” Chin. chuandeng / Jap. dentØ 傳燈 – through historiographical-narrative
works that constructed an unbroken line from the Buddha Íåkyamuni / Chin.
Shijiamoni-fo / Jap.1 Shakamuni-butsu 釋迦摩尼佛 through Kåßyapa / Jiaye / Kasha
迦葉 and the first patriarch in China, Bodhidharma / Putidamo / Botdaidatsuma
菩提達摩, to their respective historical presents. This is also the case, of course, for
2
Shinmura 1986: 2091d. See also Takayanagi and Takeuchi 1976: 818a., entry Fuke-sh¨ :
“Also called Fuke-zensh¨. A denomination (ha) of Zen. The founder is the Zen-master
Fuke from the Tang(-period). In the year 1249 (KenchØ 1) the Zen-monk Shinchi
Kakushin went to Song-China and studied the teaching of the denomination and the
playing of the shakuhachi under the sixteenth patriarch of the Fuke-sh¨, ChØ Y¨ 張雄 ;
after he had returned to Japan he built the KØkoku-ji 興国寺 in Yura 由良 in Kii 紀伊
and it is said that he had been the first who spread the teaching of this denomination (in
Japan). Officially the denomination was recognized at the beginning of the Edo period.
Called the denomination of the komusØ it became gradually a hiding place for rØnin
because no other than members of the bushi were admitted. The main temples were the
ReihØ-ji in Musashi and the Ichigetsu-ji in ShimØsa. It was abolished in 1871.” Even
more detailed is the article Fuke-sh¨ in: ºtsuki 1956: 1788df., where a historical source
of the Fuke-sh¨ is quoted which is obviously identical with the Denki (see below).
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 9
denomination which had its roots in the late Edo period 江戸時代 (1603-1868) and
early Meiji period 明治時代 (1868-1912) can be comprehended with the aid of two
concepts, those of “attaining buddhahood through one sound” (ichion-jØbutsu 一音
成佛) and “the Zen of blowing (the flute)” (suizen 吹禪 ).
In the West playing the shakuhachi is connected to religio-spirit ual
connotations which it basically does not have, and never has had, in Japan.4 This
seems to reflect what the German musicologist Helga de la Motte-Haber (1995)
has stated for the history of European religious music: a gradual desacralization of
everyday’s life brings with it a complementary sacralization of music – in our case
of non-European music; and this also seems to be true for certain circles of the late
Tokugawa period 徳川時代 (Edo period) and for Japanese modernity.
My main assumptions, which I will develop on in the following paper, are:
First, flute playing mendicant monks of the early Edo period were integrated in
the late Edo period into the existing system of the Zen denominations: During
this process a line of legitimation had to be created which was connected with
the specific feature of this new denomination, the playing of the shakuhachi.
Simultaneously, t here was a process of laicizat ion, spirit ualizat ion and
aesthetization of this distinguishing feature, the playing of the shakuhachi, which
consisted of an amalgamation of virtuous musical practice and Zen-Buddhist
conceptions of spirituality. This development occured during the 19th century, and
intensified after the Meiji-restoration. Second, it was this line of interpretation
of the tradition which prevailed after the abolishment of the Fuke-sh¨ in certain
circles playing the shakuhachi. It was this that, in turn, determined the Western
reception of classical Japanese music as a kind of spiritual practice.
3
Brooks 2000; a German translation appeared in the same year in the esoteric
publishing house Ansata-Verlag under a more suggestive title than the original: Ich ging
den Weg der Zen Flöte. Eine spirituelle und künstlerische Autobiographie, München 2000.
4
See also the content of the two published volumes of the Annals of the International
Shakuhachi Society (ISS): http://www.komuso.com/sales.
10 Japanese Religions 32 (1 & 2)
through the country preaching and playing the flute. His successors Kichiku
and Komu did likewise, and the name of the latter, komusØ has become the
generic name by which travelling bonzes of the sect were designated. Under
the Tokugawa, many samurai without masters enrolled in the Fuke-sh¨ sect,
dressed in the traditional costume and wore large hats so as to hide their faces.
They went through the country begging and playing the flute. To avoid justice
or the supervision of the shogunate, it became customary to become a komusØ;
but disorders having ensued, Ieyasu published a regulation to fix their privileges
and their obligations. The sect had seventy-three temples, all depending on
Ichigetsu-ji at Kaganei (ShimØsa). It was interdicted at the Restoration.5
Compared with the article in the KØjien we gain some complementary pieces of
information on the history of the komusØ and of their Fuke-sh¨, which is dated
back to the Tang period in China. The history of the “sect” is divided in four main
events and three periods: 1. the origin of the “sect” leading back to a Chinese
Zen master called Fuke; 2. the transmission of the tradition to Japan through
the Buddhist monk Kakushin and reference to flute-playing; 3. control of the
denomination through the Tokugawa-bakufu 徳川幕府; 4. the abolition of the
Fuke-sh¨ during the laicization and persecution of Buddhism during the Meiji
period. At the same time a negative picture of the members of the Fuke-sh¨ is
projected: it consists mainly of masterless samurai, so-called rØnin 浪人. As usual in
Papinot’s dictionary no historical sources are given, however, Papinot has become
to a certain degree authoritative for Western literature.6 The only historical and
critical study in a Western language on the Fuke-sh¨ is an article written by the
American Japanologist James H. Sanford (1977) who focuses on the history of the
denomination during the Edo period.
It is somehow striking that there is no real detailed study of the Fuke-sh¨ in
Japanese Buddhist Studies literature. In the Japanese dictionaries and encyclopaedias
there is almost the same information as in Papinot’s book. In the still very much
consulted BukkyØ-daijiten 佛教大辭典, compiled by Oda TokunØ 織田得能 at the end
of the Meiji period and edited in the year TaishØ 大正 5 (1917) there is at least a hint
that there is no proof that the alleged founder and patron of the Fuke-sh¨ had indeed
played the shakuhachi.7 It is interesting that Oda obviously did not know, or at least
5
Papinot 1973: 106; in appendix XII. “Table of the Buddhist Sects” (p. 825) Papinot
refers to six main temples (honzan 本山 ) of the Fuke-sh¨ the founder of which should
have been RØan.
6
Eliot 1935: 285; Matsunaga 1993: 261. This “myth” is repeated in German handbooks
and dictionaries – and certainly in those of other languages which I have not checked:
see Dumoulin 1986: 27; Schneider 1986: 114; von Brück 1998: 259. So one may wonder
what John Jorgensen (1991: 392), in his review of the English translation of Dumoulin’s
quoted book, means: “I would have liked to have seen more on the Fuke-sh¨, and not
just a few lines, …”: more myth or a deconstruction of it?
7
Oda 1917: 1516b, entry Fuke-sh¨: “These are the komusØ; the southern MyØan-ji with
the Great Buddha in Kyoto is their main temple; (Bodhi)dharma and the Zen master
Fuke from the Tang period are its patriarchs; because they copy the art of striking the
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 11
did not use, the main source by which the Fuke-sh¨ legitimized its authenticity as a
Zen denomination, the Kyotaku-denki 虚鐸傳記 a text which will be discussed below
and which refers to folk tradition (yo ni iu 世に言ふ).
In the popular terminological dictionary of Nakamura Hajime (1981: 1179c)
we only find the short remark: “Name of the founder of the sect (sh¨zo) of the
Fuke-sh¨.” Here the term Fuke-sh¨ is not explained at all, thus suggesting that
Puhua / Fuke had indeed been the patriarch of the denomination called after him.
Checking the entry komusØ in the same dictionary one reads: “[They] are also
called Komo-sØ 薦僧 or Fuke-sØ. Name of the monks of the Fuke-sh¨. They do
not wear monastic garbs, put put on a kesa 袈裟 and a hØben-bukuro 方便嚢, beg
for money by playing the shakuhachi and, as a religious practice, roam the whole
country. Their name is derived from the conception that the world is vain illusion
and has no substance and that the mind has to be emptied.” (Nakamura 1981: 351c)
In the BukkyØ-daijiten 佛教大辭典, edited by Mochizuki ShinkØ 望月信亨, the
lemma “Fuke-sh¨” gives an exact reproduction of the Fuke legend discussed below
(Mochizuki 1932-1964 [vol. 5]: 4400a ff.). The main source for the legend of the
transmission of the Fuke tradition to Japan through Kakushin is recognisably
taken from the Denki which is listed in the bibliography between other Chinese
and Japanese historiographical material of Zen or local origin.
In the light of the Japanese standard dictionary of Buddhism lacking a ‘critical-
historical’ view of the Fuke-sh¨ – and the repetition of this uncritical attitude
to the sources in the few Japanese articles on the subject published in scholarly
journals which I have been able to find8 – it is not surprising that the history of
bell of Zen master Fuke and roam the townships playing the shakuhachi they are called
Fuke-sh¨. According to a folk tradition once the wind had entered the bamboo stick
of the Zen master Fuke and had evoked a sound when he was on his way so that he
suddenly attained enlightenment and performed Buddhist rites by using the flute. At
the beginning of the era KenchØ the Japanese founder of the KØkoku-ji in Yura, (in the
province) Kish¨ (Wakayama), HottØ Kokushi Kakushin, went to Song-China, heard of
the practice of the Zen master Fuke, experienced great enlightenment and transmitted
the tradition after his return to Japan. A more detailled examination of the monks’
biographies and the Zen-historiographies (reveals) that although Fuke strikes the bell
he never blows a flute; but even if one checks the biographies of HottØ Kokushi there
is no report on his roaming by playing the flute – a fact which should raise some doubt.
In the ‘Tomeisho-zukai-sh¨i’ 都名所圖會拾遺 (‘Collection of Pictures of Famous Places
in the Capital’), section 4, we read: The grave of Fuke is located in the second town
district to the south of the Imperial Gate and the legend reports that it is there where
the patriarch of the komusØ, Fuke RyØan 良庵 , is enterred. In former times this was a
bamboo grove where the komusØ of the capital and from the countryside fought with
each other and cut bamboo to make their shakuhachis but now (this grove) is deserted.
Originally master Fuke has been a foreigner and it may well be that the mentioned
RyØan was mainly attracted by the practice of this school because he liked the
shakuhachi and roamed the country and that people therefore called him the Japanese
Fuke (wachØ-fuke 和朝普化 ).”
8
See KØchi (1958) and Shibata (1976 and 1979).
12 Japanese Religions 32 (1 & 2)
9
Ueno 2002: 176-262. See also the entry Fuke-sh¨ in the Japanese wikipedia: http://
ja.wikipedia.org/wiki (accessed 30/10/06).
10
For a similar presentation see Gutzwiller 1974 and, as a very short overview, Gutzwiller
1996.
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 13
house of the ShØsØ-in 正倉院 in Nara 奈良. This early type had six fingering holes
instead of the five holes of the later flutes and was used in Japanese court music,
gagaku 雅楽, of the Heian period 平安時代 (794-1185).
In modern China, the instrument which corresponds to the Japanese
shakuhachi11 is called dongxiao 洞簫, but in the province Fujian 福建 it is still
called the “Southern shakuhachi,” nan-chiba 南尺八.12 In Medieval Japan a similar
instrument was used which was called hitoyogiri 一節切, literally meaning: “cut
from a one-knotted (piece of bamboo).” Later on, the Japanese seem to have used
the names hitoyogiri and shakuhachi 13 alternatively for different types of flutes.
It is exactly the hitoyogiri which was used by a class of mendicants in the late
medieval period who seem to be the predecessors of the later komusØ. These were
the so-called “straw-mat monks,” the komo-sØ 薦僧, who got their name from the
straw mats (komo 薦) which they wore as protection against the weather. In the
history of Medieval Japanese religion, they belong to a non-institutionalized class
of mendicant “saints” called hijiri 聖. They roamed the country, did not belong
to any of the official Buddhist denominations and their teachings and practices
were a hodgepodge of different religious traditions. According to the orthodox
Japanese view they were neither clerics nor laypeople but hansØ-hanzoku 半僧半俗,
11
It is an interesting side-line of the modern re-mythologisation of the shakuhachi that
Chinese circles playing the dongxiao are obviously starting to “respiritualize” their
instrument by referring to the Japanese Fuke-sh¨ tradition; see: http://www.wenhuacn.
com/guoyue/article.asp?classid=60&articleid=4436, http://www.wenhuacn.com/
guoyue/article.asp?classid=60&articleid=4438, http://www.huain.com/music_zhuanti/
news_read.php?no=566, http://www.huain.com/music_zhuanti/news_read.php?no=567,
http://donsiao.net/BIN_ANG/binan.htm (accessed 30/10/06).
12
For a description of the nan-chiba see Zhao 1992: 116b. The instruments have
approximately the same length as a shakuhachi but have six fingering holes and are
endowed with a V-shaped mouth-piece. Beside these minor differences the Chinese
flutes are cut from the same segment of the bamboo plant as the shakuhachi, namely
the root piece with the first seven knots (shakuhachi) or the first ten knots (dongxiao). In
the history of the Tang, in the Jiu-Tangshu 舊唐書 , the term shakuhachi, Chin. chiba, is
used for the first time in Chinese literature but it is used in a completely secular context
and without any religious connotation. Morohashi (1955-60: vol. 4, 129, no. 7632.77),
remarks that the chiba / shakuhachi was already used in the Tang 唐 period (618-906)
in Buddhist monasteries; but as no original Chinese sources are given but only late
Japanese texts this may have been deducted from the Japanese legend of the Fuke-sh¨.
The oldest reference to the chiba in a Chinese piece of literature is found in the novel
Youxianku 游仙窟 , “Travelling to the grotto of the immortals,” by the Tang author
Zhang Zu 張鷟 , alias Zhang Wencheng 文成 (c. 651-721): ”Wusao played the harp and a
boy played the chiba.”; cf. Luo 1990: vol. 4, 5b.
13
For the obscure history of the instrument see: Ueno 2002: 11-175.
14 Japanese Religions 32 (1 & 2)
“half-monk, half-layman,” uhatsu 有髪, “having hairs [i.e.: without the tonsure of a
monk];” in contemporary literature they are frequently called ubosaku 憂婆賽 (Skt.
upåsaka), “laypeople.” (Nakamura 1981: 92d)
From the early Kamakura period 鎌倉 (1185-1382) on, these mendicants
appear under different names such as boroboro – written with Chinese characters as
暮露々々 , literally: “dew of dawn.” This name is, as a reduplication, an allegro form
of the word boro 襤褸, “rags,” indicating the pejorative nature of the term. The
oldest occurrence is found in the Tsurezure-gusa 徒然草 by Yoshida KenkØ 吉田兼好
(ca. 1330 / 31). In the section called Shukugawara 宿河原 it is stated:
It seems to be that boroboro ぼろぼろ monks did not exist in former times; ... (it
may be that the monks Boronji ぼろむじ, Bonji 梵字 and Kanji 漢字 were the
first of them). These monks are stubborn although they have abandoned the
world and they fight constantly, even if they appear to strive for the path of the
Buddha. They are without any self-restriction and break their vows shamelessly,
but they take death lightly and do not engulf in vain deploration. – This I have
recorded as people have told me.14
There is not yet any connection of the boroboro with the bamboo flute, it is in the
commentary of the Tsurezure-gusa, the Tsurezure-gusa-nozuchi 徒然草野槌, the
“Hammer of the Tsurezure-gusa,” (section JØ-no-hachi 上之八), written in 1621
by the Confucian scholar and advisor of the first Tokugawa-shØgun Ieyasu 家康,
Hayashi DØshun Razan 林道春羅山 (1583-1657), that we find a clear identification
of boroboro with komo-sØ and a description of these mendicant monks which reflects
the general idea of the later komusØ:
These [i.e.: the boro-boro] were later on called komo-sØ; they did neither look like
monks nor like laypeople. They wore a sword (katana), blew the shakuhachi, had
14
Tsurezure-gusa 115, after Sanari 1952: 237; see also the translation by Keene 1981:
98 f. In the context of an identification of the boroboro with the later komusØ but also
considering the question of the religious orientation of these mendicants the precedent
passage of the Tsurezure-gusa is of some importance (after Sanari 1952: 236f.): “At a
place called Shukugawara many boroboro-monks had come together and they prayed
the nenbutusu of nine stages (kuhon no nenbutsu 九品の念仏 ) when suddenly an(other)
boroboro-monks entered and asked (the others): “Hey! Is someone of you called Irooshi-
bØ いろおし坊 ?” One of them answered: “Yes, that is right. Who are you?” – “My
name is Shirabonji しら梵字 . I have heard that my master so-and-so has been killed by
a boroboro-monk called Irooshi in the Eastern Provinces and therefore I ask (you). I
would like to meet him to take revenge.” Irooshi answered: “You have come to the right
place. It is true what has been reported to you. But if we fight here we would implicate
this holy place. Should we not go down to the river-bed before the temple and finish
our matter? And you, my friends, I ask you not to help any of us! The holy ceremonies
would be disturbed if there is a too big turmoil here.” After this had been arranged like
this they went to the dried-out river-bed, took position facing each other, pierced each
as they wanted to until they both fell to the ground and were dead.” Note that Keene
1981: 98, translates boroboro with “mendicant priest.”
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 15
a straw mat on their back, wandered in the streets, stood in front of people’s
doors and begged. It is said that they belonged to the school of the boroboro.15
In the title of this poem the name of the monk is written as komØ-sØ 虚妄僧,
literally meaning: “monk of voidness and idleness” connotating at the same time
the meaning of “monk of lies, of betrayal.” The poem and the commentary show
that the kind of mendicant described was not very highly respected or was at least
regarded in an ambivalent way as were the other types of hijiri.
What can be derived from these sources is that there were, from the 14th
century on, religious mendicants who where known under different names; some
of them obviously had the special sign of playing a bamboo flute. It has to be
emphasized, however, that there is no connection to a Zen denomination and
that the name Fuke is not used. The quoted passage from the Tsurezure-gusa
demonstrates that the boroboro practiced the nenbutsu of nine stages (kuhon no
nenbutsu 九品の念佛),21 connotating the invocation of the Buddha Amida(-butsu) 阿
彌陀佛. These mendicants seem to have placed themselves, or have been placed,
in the context of Pure-Land Buddhism ( jØdo 浄土) and not in connection with
Zen. This religious type was obviously a special kind of hijiri.22 Like the hijiri,
15
Translated after Ueno 2002: 185.
16
Translated after Ueno 2002: 184. See also Blasdel and Kamisango 1988: 82.
17
Here sanmai 三 昧 is certainly used in a ambivalent and ironic way: the state of
meditative concentration is interpreted as a superficial outer phenomenon of the “three
obscurations (ignorance)” of the paper cape and of playing the shakuhachi.
18
Capes made of lacquered paper used by the mountain ascetics, the yamabushi 山武士 ,
which were also called ma-gesa 真袈裟 , “real kesa” (ºno 1982: 329a).
19
Ments¨ or mentsu 面桶 : bowls made of cypress (hinoki) or ceder (sugi) wood, having
an elliptic form and being used for one portion of food (men) (ºno 1982: 1272a, who
quotes a passage from DØgen’s 道元 ShØbØ-genzØ 正法眼蔵 in which the term occurs);
see also TØdØ 1978: 1459b.
20
Translated after Ueno 2002: 184.
21
According to the Guan-wuliangshou-jing / Kan-muryØju-kyØ 觀無量壽經 , there are nine
forms of birth into the Pure Land and accordingly nine stages of nenbutsu (Nakamura
1981: 1157a).
22
In the peotic anthology Shichij¨ichi-ban-shokunin-utaawase 七十一番職人歌合 (MeiØ-
shokunin-utaawase 明應職人歌合 ), compiled between 1492 and 1501, poem no. 46 refers
16 Japanese Religions 32 (1 & 2)
the boroboro did not belong to a specific monastic institution and spent their lives
begging for alms (takuhatsu 托鉢); the later komo-sØ used the flute as a kind of
signal instrument for begging, but also for identifying themselves as members
of the same group. This kind of identification is also found in the case of the
yamabushi 山武士 of Sh¨gendØ 修験道 who recognised each others by ritualized
dialogues, mondØ 問答,23 and this custom is designated in the same way for the
komusØ of the late Tokugawa period.
It is not clear from the sources when the “zenized” term komusØ, “monk
of voidness (ko or kyo) and nothingness (mu)” replaced the older komo-sØ. A still
somewhat polemical transitional form is found in Miura JØshin’s 三 浦 浄 心
(1564-1644) KeichØ-kenbun-sh¨ 慶長見聞集, “Collection of (Things) Observed and
Heard from the Era KeichØ” (ca. 1614), where he speaks of komusØ 古無僧, literally
meaning: “old (monk who) is no monk.” (Ueno 2002: 191) The earliest evidence of
the form komusØ seems to be in the Keichiku-shoshin-sh¨ 糸竹初心集, “Anthology
for beginners of string instrument and bamboo (flutes),” by Nakamura SØsan 中
村宗三, published in 1664.24 Up to the beginning of the 18th century, however, the
komusØ were not directly connected with any Zen denomination and were still
considered to be boro – as can be seen in the Wakan-shinsen-kagaku-sh¨ 和漢新撰下
學集 (1714) – without mentioning the instrument shakuhachi –: “In the east of Japan
the boro 暮露 are called komusØ.”25
to “horse saints,” uma-hijiri うまひじり / 馬聖 in connection with the boroboro: “The moon
of the dharma dwells broadly and calmly above Musashino 武蔵野 – o, the grass bed of
the boro who has risen (from it)! The heart of the boro – the radiance of the dharma at the
origin of the moon should, alas, be spread. Being awaken without faith – o do not forsake
the world! Even the ‚horse-ascetic’ with his heart always returning – this should be well
known – does not utter such a sound.” (Translated after Ueno 2002: 187 f.)
23
Hartmut O. Rotermund in: Hammitzsch 1984: 1547.
24
“The shakuhachi of the komusØ is cut to one shaku and eight sun: that is how it got its
name. Its origin is not clear. Even if it is now (sonokami そのかみ ) said that HottØ of Yura
is the ancestor of this Way this cannot be proved. It is said that (the shakuhachi) had
been used by members of the boroboro from ancient times on. They were called bonji 梵
士 , kanshi 漢士 , irooshi 色おし , shirabonji しら梵士 , and it is said that they practiced the
shakuhachi.” (Translated after Ueno 2002: [151 and] 182) In the YØsh¨-fushi 雍州志 (see
next note) the komusØ were connected with Roan; see Kurihara 1918: 110.
25
See Ueno 2002: 187. In the YØsh¨-fushi 雍州志 of Kurokawa DØyu 黑川道祐 (1686, JØkyØ
貞享 3) komo-sØ is the category and boroboro refers to a specific type: “In medieval times
there where some called boroboro. They also belonged to the komo-sØ.” (Ueno 2002: 152;
translated from p.187) This quotation shows that, at least at the end of the 17th century,
the komusØ were not really known as a specific group of their own right.
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 17
26
Sanford (1977: 412) writes: “In spite of its widespread acceptance, this picture of the
komusØ as an ancient sect of Zen Buddhism with roots in China and a long subsequent
history in Japan is in reality almost wholly false.”
27
Court nobles (kuge 公家 ) claiming as their ancestor Fujiwara SanjØ Kinnori (1103-1160).
28
Cf. Ueno 2002: 182, note 1. Sanford (1977: 416, note 21) mentions a tradition according
to which the author should be the shakuhachi-player and komusØ Muf¨ 無風 , a disciple
of Ton’Ø 遁翁 ; another tradition gives his teacher about whom nothing is known from
other sources. The text is printed in Kojiruien 古事類苑 , Sh¨kyØbu 1 宗教部一 , Tokyo
1901 (Meiji 34) (quoted subsequently as: Ruien), 1130 ff., and in Kurihara 1918: 94 ff. It
is my pleasure to thank Dr. Funayama TØru 船山徹 , Kyoto University, for sending me
copies of these texts which were not accessible in Germany and Austria when I wrote
the bulk of this article.
29
Sanford 1977: 416, note 21, gives 1779.
30
See Sanford 1977: 416, note 21.
18 Japanese Religions 32 (1 & 2)
continuous line from the Buddha to the alleged founder of the denomination, that
is, in this case: Shejiamouni-fo / Shakamuni-butsu 釋迦牟尼佛 / Íåkyamuni Buddha
to Mohejiashe / Makakasha 摩訶迦葉 / Mahåkåßyapa and A’nan 阿難 / Ónanda to
Shangnahexiu / ShØnawashu 商那和修 / Íaˆa(ka)våßa, Youpojuduo / Ubagutta 憂
婆毬多/ Upagupta, etc., including Maming / MemyØ 馬鳴 / AßvaghoΣa (no. 13),
Longshu / Ry¨ju 龍樹 / Någårjuna (no. 15), Poxiupantou / Bashuhanzu 婆修盤頭 /
Vasubandhu (no. 22), up to the first Chinese patriarch Putidamo / Bodaidatsuma 菩
提達磨 / Bodhidharma (no. 29) and then the Chinese patriarchs Huike Dashi / Eka
Daishi 慧可大師 (no. 30), Huineng Dajian / E’nØ Daikan 慧能大鑒 (no. 34), Nanyue
(Huairang) / Nangaku (EjØ) 南嶽(懷讓) (no. 35), Mazu (Daoyi) / Baso (DØitsu) 馬祖
(道一) (no. 36), Panshan (Baoji) / Banzan (HØshaku) 盤山(寶積) (no. 37) to Puhua /
Fuke 普化 as the thirty-eighth patriarch.31
The “traditional” line ends with the Chinese Zen-monk Puhua, Jap. Fuke,
who is not found as a patriarch in any other Zen source. The Denki, however,
develops its own individual transmission line:
Ton’Ø says: Fuke Zenshi lived in the Tang-(period) as a successor in the
teaching of Íåkya in the 38th generation. In his days he was a great sage and he
practised crazed idleness in Chinsh¨ / Zhenzhou 鎮州,32 beat the bell in the city
and always told people: ‘If there comes a bright head I beat the bright head; if
there comes a dark head I beat the dark head; if all the four directions and all
the eight sides come I beat like a whirlwind; if the void comes I beat with the
pestle.’ One day a (certain) ChØ Haku / Zhang Bo 張伯 of the district Ka’nan /
Henan 河南 heard these words and he very much longed for the great virtue
of the Zen-master. He asked him (to be allowed) to follow him (but) the Zen-
master did not allow it. As ChØ Haku liked the (bamboo-)can he immediately
cut a measured (bamboo-)can after he had heard the sound of the Zen-master’s
bell; he constantly played the sound (of the bell) and did not dare to play
another melody. (Thus) he imitated the sound of the bell (by using a bamboo-)
can and that is why (this piece) was called ‘Empty Bell’ (Kyotaku 虛鐸). This
(tradition) was transmitted for sixteen generations in (ChØ Haku’s) family.33
Up to this point, the only figure in the Denki who is also found in authentic Zen-
sources is the alleged founder of the Fuke-sh¨, the Chinese Chan-monk Puhua /
Fuke about whom the Chinese sources only report short episodes. These are not
very significant for the general history of Chinese Chan. According to the sources
he lived in and around the time of the famous patriarch Linji 臨齊 (Jap. Rinzai), who
died in the year 876. Puhua / Fuke’s character is marked by a peculiar eccentricity
and – at least on the outside – by his not accepting the authority of master Linji.34
31
Ruien, 1130. The list is a complete one and is similar to the one found in the Baolin-
zhuan 寶林傳 ; cf. the list in Yampolsky 1967: 8 f.
32
In the translation of the Japanese text I quote the Japanese pronunciation first and then
give the Chinese spelling.
33
Translation after Ruien, 1131.
34
There is an Indian monk called Luomo 羅 摩 (Råma?) who visits the mountain
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 19
The affiliation of the Fuke-sh¨ with Rinzai-Zen in the Denki is clearly connected
with the Tang-record Linji-lu (Jap. Rinzai-roku 臨濟錄), “Records on Linji”:35
(1.) As follows: Puhua often roamed the streets of the city, beat a bell and said: “If
my common essence [lit.: a bright head] comes I hit my common essence; if
there comes my hidden essence [lit.: a dark head] I beat the hidden essence;36
if all the four directions and all eight sided come I beat like a whirlwind; if
heaven (or: void) comes I beat like a pestle.” Master (Linji) ordered a servant
to approach him who first observed how he acted, kept it in his memory and
said to him as (Linji) had ordered him: “If absolutely nothing comes, what will
you do?” Puhua put (the bell) on his palm and said: “Tomorrow there will be a
vegetarian feast in Dabei-yuan 大悲院.” The servant went back and told it his
master. The master said: “I always mistrusted this fellow.”37
(2.) One day Puhua begged for a monk’s robe from the people in the streets of
the city. They gave it to him but (suddenly) Puhua did not want it (any more).
Master (Linji) gave an order to the prefect of the monastery to buy a coffin.
When Puhua came back the master said: “I ordered a monk’s robe to be made
for you.” But Puhua took (the coffin) on his shoulders and ran around in the
streets of the city and shouted: “Linji has ordered a monk’s robe to be made
for me. I will go to the eastern gate and there I will die.” The citizens of the
city followed him and wanted to watch. Puhua said: “Today I will not (die),
but tomorrow I will go to the eastern gate and will die.” Thus it went for three
days. People did not believe it any more. On the fourth day nobody followed
him to watch, and he went alone in front of the city, entered the coffin and
ordered a passer-by to nail (the cover). Thereupon (news) spread and the
citizens came running to open the coffin. They saw that his complete body had
already disappeared and only heard the sound of the bell vaguely fading away.38
The founding legend of the Fuke-sh¨ and the terminology in the Denki is full of
loans from, and allusions to, this story in the Linji-lu which was very well known in
Wutaishan 五台山 to see Mañjußr¥ and who is also called Puhua in the Dunhuang
manuscript P. 3931 (cf. Schneider 1987).
35
In the Jingde-chuandeng-lu 景德傳燈火錄 (T. 2076.253b.29 f. = T. 2036.612a.29 ff, Fozu-
lidai-tongzai 佛祖歷代統載 ; cf. T. 2077.558a). Puhua is the renitent as a pupil of the
Chan-master Baoji. In the texts Puhua is in a constant fight with Linji questioning his
authority.
36
明頭來,明頭打,暗頭來,暗頭打,… I take this meaning from Iriya 1989: 81, note 4.
37
Translated after Iriya 1989: 157 f. See also the translation by Sanford 1977, Appendix A:
439.
38
Translated after Iriya 1989: 175 f. A short version of these two episodes is found
in the Shishi-qigu-lüe 釋氏稽古略 , a chronologically structured “church history.”
(T. 2037.840b.20 ff ) Additional pieces of information on Puhua are almost absent
but this was, of course, in the sense of the Japanese compilator(s) of the Denki as he
or they could use the narrative “vacuum.” A condensed version of all stories found
in Tang-sources is given in Puhua’s biography in the Song-Gaoseng-zhuan 宋高僧傳
(T. 2061.837b.14ff.).
20 Japanese Religions 32 (1 & 2)
Japan at the end of the 18th century and it is clear that this text was one of the main
sources for the fabrication of the legend.
The Japanese nestor of Zen studies, Yanagida Seizan 柳田聖山 , in his paper
Fuke no f¨kyØ 普化の風狂 , “The craziness of Fuke,” aptly defines the function of
Puhua in the Zen tradition as follows:
If we remove the story of Fuke from the Rinzai-roku the attraction of this text
would probably be reduced by 50%. (Yanagida 1969: 1083)
Puhua / Fuke was the important, if not the only connecting element between
a Japanese form of musical activity of a Japanese Zen denomination and the
flourishing of Chan in the Tang period. In the respective processes, Puhua / Fuke is
eventually separated from his original function: almost ironically, he is transformed
in the Denki from an extreme Zen-fool who has his counter-part, the famous
Zen-excentric Linji / Rinzai, who appears as a lame hare – Yanagida calls this the
“unification of contrasts” (hantai no itchi 反対の一致) – to something which he was
never supposed to be, a Zen-master and patriarch.39 It seems to be important to note
that it is not before the Denki that the name of Puhua / Fuke is mentioned, before
this we only find flute-playing mendicants called komo-sØ or komusØ.
Let us review our observations so far: A superficial analysis of the Japanese
Kyotaku-denki already reveals some inconsistencies in the narrative and its
historical claims:
1. The Chinese monk Puhua, who was never a Zen-master but was rather a
rebel monk loosely connected to Linji. The quest of Zhang Bo / ChØ Haku
to become his lay-disciple is completely external to the Chinese sources and
reflects rather the realities of Japanese Zen of the late 18th century, where
laypeople could indeed be part of monastic life.
2. According to the Denki, it is not Puhua / Fuke but the non-historical layman
ChØ Haku40 who used the bamboo flute and identified it with Puhua’s bell.
39
Cf. Faure (1993: 200) who writes: “... his feigned madness prevents him from becoming
a master and taking a position in the authorized discourse. Because of his reluctance to
accept a patriarchal seat, he strikes us as the ‘true man without rank’ idealized by Linji.”
In note 9 he writes: “However, Puhua himself was not without spiritual posterity: he
was later ‘tamed’ by the Zen tradition, which promoted him as the ‘founder’ of the Fuke
(Ch. Puhua) school, a relatively obscure school introduced to Japan by the flute player
Kakua and Muhon Kakushin (...)” Although he quotes Sanford’s work which is critical
in this point, Faure seems to suppose that the tradition about Kakushin and the Fuke-
sh¨ is not without substance. It was Puhua’s “crazy Zen” image which recommended
him to Zenist circles in America during the sixties and early seventies, so that he
eventually became mentioned under his Japanese name Fuke in Jack Kerouac’s novel
The Dharma Bums (originally published in 1958); it was, however, still some time to go
until the musical aspect of Fuke was discovered.
40
The first Chinese novel Youxianku 遊仙窟 , “Travels to the caverns of the immortals,”
may have motivated the author of the Denki to choose the Chinese name Zhang /
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 21
3. The initial shakuhachi-piece, which ChØ Haku imitates rather than composes, and
which is called “Empty Bell” (or “Bell of the Void”), Kyotaku 虛鐸 and Kyorei 虚
鈴 respectively, has no direct connection with the episodes of Fuke / Puhua which
the Denki takes from other Zen-sources. Thus the connection between void and
bell is a constructed one. Indeed, a certain amount of imagination is necessary to
establish a connection between a bell and a bamboo flute.
The Denki attributes the honour of having brought the art of meditation with
the bamboo flute to Japan to HottØ Kokushi Shinchi Kakushin 法燈國師心地
覺心 (1207-1298).41 This figure is, as in the case of Puhua / Fuke, selected quite
deliberately. Kakushin is well-known for his various interests; he combined esoteric
Shingon 真言 and Zen and he spent some time between 1249 and 1254 in Song-
China where he practiced Zen under the famous master Wumen Huikai 無門慧
開, Jap. Mumon Ekai (1183-1260), who was the compiler of the gong’an / kØan-
collection 公案 Wumen-guan / Mumon-kan 無門關, “Gateless Passage.” Kakushin is
considered to be the patriarch and founder of the Rinzai sub-denomination HottØ
法燈 which made him a candidate for the construction of a personal connection
between Fuke-sh¨ and Rinzai-sh¨. In Kakushin’s own writing, however, there is no
evidence of either the events or the personal connections postulated in the Denki.42
The line of transmission perpetuated in the Denki, from the layman ChØ
Haku up to the Song period when Kakushin studied in China, consists of a
tradition of laypeople from the family ChØ / Zhang: 1. ChØ Haku / *43Zhang Bo 張
伯, 2. ChØ Kin / *Zhang Jin 張金, 3. ChØ Atsu / * Zhang Ya 張軋 (?),44 4. ChØ Ken /
*Zhang Quan 張權, 5. ChØ Tei / *Zhang Ting 張亭, 6. ChØ RyØ / Zhang Ling 張
陵, 7. ChØ Ch¨ / Zhang Chong 張沖, 8. ChØ Gen / *Zhang Xuan 張玄, 9. ChØ Shi
/ *Zhang Si 張思, 10. ChØ An / *Zhang An 張安, 11. ChØ Kon / *Zhang Kan 張
堪, 12. ChØ Ren / *Zhang Lian 張廉, 13. ChØ ShØ / *Zhang Zhang 張章, 14. ChØ
Y¨ / *Zhang You 張雄. It is remarkable that there is a gap in this line between
generation 14, ChØ Y¨ / *Zhang Zou and generation 16, ChØ San / *Zhang Can 張
參, the latter being important for what is to follow in the Denki.
ChØ for his protagonist because it is in this piece of literature that we seem to find the
oldest occurrence of the term chiba / shakuhachi. Both the author and the hero in the
Chinese novel bear the name Zhang, and the Youxianku was well-read in Japan. On the
Youxianku see Wang 1948: 153 f; Egan 1976: 136; Nienhauser 1987: 209, entry Chang
Cho; English translation Levy 1965: 75 ff. It may well be that the famous explorer of
the Western Regions of the Former Han period, Zhang Qian 張騫 , may have had an
influence on the decision to pick up the surname Zhang / ChØ (Levy 1965: 19).
41
A discussion of Kakushin’s role as the transmitter of the Fuke-practice to Japan, the
conflicting source of the transmission through the four Chinese householders (koji 居
士 ) HØfu 寶伏 , SØdo 僧恕 , Kokusa 國作 , RijØ 理生 – rather unusual names in a Chinese
context – in another source, the Fukesh¨-mon 普化宗門 , see KØchi (1958), who too
positivistically takes the sources as completely objective historical evidence.
42
Yampolsky 1993-1994; Ueno 2002: 179 f.
43
The asterisk (*) indicates that these names are not documented in Chinese.
44
I have not been able to find the character given in the Ruien: 車 + 己 .
22 Japanese Religions 32 (1 & 2)
Having reached the Song period through this constructed line of succession,
the Denki now reports a meeting between Kakushin and ChØ San; Kakushin had
allegedly moved to the monastery Lingdong-Huguo-si / ReitØ-Gokoku-ji 靈洞護
國寺 in Shuzhou / Josh¨ 舒州 to practice Zen; the name of Kakushin is written as
Gakushin 學心:
The monk monk Gakushin from our country travelled there in order to study
and (they) learnt and recited (s¨tras) together. (Gakushin) befriended (ChØ) San
(y¨zen 友善: Skt. kalyåˆamitra). Once, while they were having a conversation,
they talked about who first transmitted the (piece) Kyotaku (“Void Bell”) and
the existence of the melody to this day. (ChØ San) tuned (his instrument) and
played (the melody). As soon as he began to play (it was like) entering in a
mystery (myØ 妙). Gakushin sat reverently on his knees (kiza 跪坐) and said:
“How strange! How wonderful (myØ 妙)! One never has heard such a pure tune,
such a wonderful melody, amazing and touching the heart (kawai 可愛), from
any (bamboo) cane. I beg you45 to teach me the melody so that I can transfer
this wonderful sound to Japan.” Thereupon (ChØ San) played this melody
again for Gakushin, taught it to him, and Gakushin learnt it. One day, when
(Gakushin’s) Zen had matured, and after he had mastered the melody, he bid
ChØ San farewell, … and he returned to his home country by ship.46
45
It is strange that a fully ordained monk addresses the layman by the honorific
expression fuse 伏 ; in the twisted logic of the narrative and intentional logic of the
Denki, however, where the layman ChØ has to be the master of the monk Kakushin /
Gakushin, this wording is rather essential.
46
Translated after Ruien, 1131.
47
See the tables in Dumoulin 1986: 359 and 361.
48
Yampolsky 1993-1994: 252 f; the story is found in: Hijiri shireki 非事吏事歴 , Shintei zØho
shiseki sh¨ran 新定増補史籍集覧 32, Kyoto 1968, 387-390. One of the new conventions
introduced by Kyomu was a kind of deep-rimed hat which later was called tengai but is
called kaya-maru-gasa 萱圓笠 , “round reed hat,” in the Denki.
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 23
Subsequently the Denki narrates that Kakushin, after he had founded the
monastery SaihØ-ji 西法寺 in Wakayama 和歌山 (Kish¨ 紀州), accepted a disciple
called Kichiku 奇竹, literally “Mysterious bamboo,” whom he taught the shakuhachi-
piece Kyotaku, “Empty Bell,” and thus founded the transmission line of Fuke in
Japan. It is this Kichiku49 who is considered to be the real first patriarch (sh¨so 宗祖)
of the Fuke-sh¨. It is said that in a dream he had had two shakuhachi pieces revealed
to him which were, in this way, legitimated as authentic Fuke melodies.
The transmission line construed by the Denki then goes from Kichiku to
Ton’Ø is: 1. Kichiku 奇竹, 2. Jinsai 塵哉, 3. Gihaku 儀伯, 4. Rinmei 臨明, 5. Kyof¨
虚風,50 6. Kyomu 虚無, 7. GidØ 儀道, 8. JidØ 自道, 9. KashØ 可笑, 10. K¨rai 空來,
11. Jik¨ 自空, 12. Ech¨ 恵中, 13. Ichimoku 一黙, 14. FumyØ 普明, 15. Chirai 知來, 16.
Ton’Ø, (17. Muf¨ 無風51). The pattern of this transmission line seems to reflect the
sixteen generations of the Chinese line of the ChØ / Zhang family.
For the origin of the term komusØ and for some of the paraphernalia of the
Edo-period monks, the Denki presents an aetiological legend: the sixth patriarch
Kyomu 虚無 is said to have been the name-patron of the monks who, originally,
should have been the noble Kusunoki Masakatsu 楠正勝. With this figure the
Denki introduces the only historical personality from Japanese history besides
Kakushin in the entire text. In the year 1399 Kusunoki Masakatsu, together with
ºuchi Yoshihiro 大内義弘 (1355-1400), revolted against the third Ashikaga (足利)
shØgun Yoshimitsu 義滿 (1358-1408) (Papinot 1973: 335); they were both defeated
and all trace of them was lost in the mists of history. In this way, Kusunoki was
available for the role of the first bushi- and rØnin-komusØ and this was not a bad
choice for the author of the Denki. He was, after all, writing in a period in which
the Tokugawa shØguns still had relative control over the country. The author of
the Denki may have intended to please the regime with his choice: like Masakatsu,
many members of the Kusunoki clan had been opponents of the Ashikaga-bakufu
足利幕府 (1392-1573) which preceded the Tokugawas. It is said in the Denki that
Kyomu introduced the formal signs of monkhood such as the tonsure (taihatsu /
kami-zori 剃髪) and the monastic robe (hØe 法衣), and he is also held responsible
for the convention of covering the face by use of the tengai – a practice which is,
however, not found until the middle of the 18th century – nor the specific dharma-
49
Shibata 1976: 67 f, refers to a memorial stone at the “grave” of Kichiku – written as
Kyochiku 虛竹 in the quoted text – in Uji from the year 1843 (TenpØ 14) as an external
source but this is, of course, a source which has been produced after the production
of the Denki and, by the name variant Kyochiku, even may reflect some concurring
tradition or uncertainty about this patriarch at that very time.
50
The text of the Ruien (1132) drops no.3. and no. 4. but the text in Kurihara (1918: 100)
has the complete transmission line.
51
Muf¨ cannot be considered as a generation of his own in the transmission line as the
text points out that there was a kind of heterodoxy at that time – see Ruien, 1132: “I have
transmitted this (tradition) to Muf¨. Muf¨ also learnt from other teachers and made
(or: played) an infinitive number of melodies.”
24 Japanese Religions 32 (1 & 2)
rules, hotto 法度, for funerals of the komusØ. He is also said to have initiated
reference to Puhua / Fuke52 while at the same time originating the term for the
members of the denomination.53
Ikky¨’s predilection for the shakuhachi is also well known and can be seen in
various poems as e.g. “Portrait of Ami playing the shakuhachi”56 (Dai-Ton-Ami-
52
Ruien, 1132: “The confused Kyof¨ asked (Kyomu about his outfit): ‘You foolish fellow!
What kind of appearance is this?’ (Kyomu) answered: ‘Once (our) first master, the Zen
master Fuke, roamed towns and markets, hit the bell and pretended to be fool. I humbly
want to imitate (it) …’”
53
Ruien, 1132: “Then Kyomu travelled through the five central provinces (ki 畿 , around
Kyoto) and through the seven districts (dØ 道 ) and played the sound of the Kyotaku
(empty bowl). People asked him: ‘Master, who are you?’ He answered: ‘The monk (sØ)
Kyomu 僧虛無 .’ Thereupon people called his disciples kyomu-sØ and a lot of people
imitated his appearance.”
54
On Ikky¨ and Fuke see Sanford 1981: 146ff.; on Ikky¨ and shakuhachi see Sanford 1981:
147 and 180 f, and Fritsch 1983: 7 ff.
55
No. 126, translated after Ueno 2002: 192; Sanford (1981: 147) translates: “In Praise of
P’u-k’o: Who could walk beside Te-shan and Lin-chi? That old madman from Chen really
startled the crowds. Some die in meditation, some on their feet, but he beat them all. Like
a distant bird call, his bell rang faintly.”
56
According to Sanford (1981: 180), this is the poet Ton’a NikaidØ Sadamune 頓阿二階堂
光貞 (1310-1384); according to Fritsch (1983: 29, note 37), and to (Ueno 2002: 128 f), he
was the disciple of the denraku 田楽 master ZØa(mi) 噌阿 ( 彌 ). Beside the court-music
(gagaku) denraku was a popular form of music practiced from the Kamakura period
onwards whereby flutes, shakuhachis, were used, too.
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 25
57
Translated after Ueno 2002: 129; “mulberry-island” is Jap. FusØ (Chin. Fusang) 扶
桑 , which according to Chinese legends is an island lying in the east on which a huge
mulberry tree is crowing; it also means Japan: TØdØ 1978: 517c. See also the slightly
different translation of the passage by Sanford 1981: 180: “Shakuhachi music stirs up
both gods and demons. Once again the world’s number-one rake lacks a friend. In the
teeming universe just that music. He leaves the painting to enter a bamboo flute.” I am
unable to understand the reasoning behind the German translation of the last line by
Fritsch (1983: 9): “… Abbild für uns Menschen des Götterlandes.”
58
His flute is still shown today in the HØshun-in 芳春院 , a branch temple of the Daitoku-
ji 大德寺 in Kyoto, but it is an instrument of the type of the hitoyogiri different from the
shakuhachis of the later komusØ.
59
On the almost archetypical expressional spectre of flutes see Brunotte and Treibel
1999; Fritsch 1986-87. On the various poems by Ikky¨ describing the connection of the
shakuhachi with Ikky¨’s loneliness and his position as a social outcast see Fritsch 1983: 10f.
60
Translation by Sanford 1981: 146; see also poem no. 110: “With motion it rings, when
still it is silent. Does the bell hold the sound, or does the wind? An old monk jangled
out of his midday nap. How is this? The midnight bell at high noon?”
26 Japanese Religions 32 (1 & 2)
The emphasis of Puhua / Fukes’ “motto” “dark head – bright head” (Chin.
antou – mingtou, Jap. anzu – myØzu 暗頭 – 明頭) is found in Ikky¨’s poem “Monk
Fuke [P’u-k’o]”:
The Monk P’u-k’o: Arguing first the Bright Head, then the Dark, That Zen-
fellow’s tricks fooled them all. Now, blowing up again, the same old madman, A
sensual youth, howling at the door. (Sanford 1981: 148, no. 595)
A poem bearing the title “Shakuhachi” (no. 969) may have been the motivation
for scholars such as Fritsch to draw an historically problematic line between Fuke
and Ikky¨ on the one hand and with the shakuhachi-playing mendicants on the
other hand:
Shakuhachi: even now I remember the recluse of Uji. Empty belly, no wine,
colder than ice. Yet, the sound of the angel’s shining cloak. Lost among
refugees, the rural priest takes comfort.61
In the light of all this, it seems strange that Ikky¨ is not officially incorporated
into the story of the Fuke-sh¨62 and this again shows, in my opinion, that the
making of the Fuke-legitimation legend took place considerably after the lifetime
of Ikky¨.
61
Translation by Sanford 1981: 181; the “angel” is a reference to the famous NØ-play
Hagoromo 羽衣 , “Robe of Feathers,” by Zeami 世阿彌 (1363-1444).
62
As, for instance, Ikky¨’s “colleague” Roan – different versions of his name are 蘆
菴 , 蘆安 , 良庵 , 朗庵 – on which the YØsh¨-fushi 雍州志 of Kurokawa DØyu 黑川道祐
(1686, JØkyØ 貞享 3) records in the chapter about the temple MyØan-ji, the later Meiji
headquarter of the Fuke-sh¨: “In the recent past there was a strange monk called Roan.
Nobody knows where he comes from. At his time he was very close to master Ikky¨ of
the Daitoku-ji, Ry¨goku-zan 龍寶山 . He had a predilection for the practice of the wind-
holes (that is: flutes) and he loved to blow the shakuhachi. He called himself ‘the ascetic
wind-hole’ ( f¨ketsu-dØsha 風穴道者 ). Originally he lived in the district of Uji 宇治 in
the (hermitage) Ky¨kØ-an 吸江菴 . He also lived in this temple (MyØan-ji) for a while.
As people say, this is the main temple of the komusØ.” (kanbun in Kurihara 1918: 109,
and Shibata 1976: 66, Japanese reading in Ueno 2002: 152) Cf. on this in more detail
Ueno 2002: 152ff. On the uncertain identification of Roan with the Fuke-sh¨ patriarch
Kichiku (RyØen) 寄 ( 奇 ) 尺 ( 了圓 ) from the Denki see Shibata 1976: 64 ff.
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 27
from the KeichØ era,” dated to KeichØ 19 (1614) the full title of which is Gony¨
koku-no-(migiriØse-)watasaresØrØ-osadamegaki 御入國之砌被仰渡候定書, “Decree
about bestowing entrance to the different provinces” – which, in fact, is extant in
several, quite different, versions – as Sanford remarks: “rather too many, in fact.” 63
The original does not exist any more; only late copies from the end of the 18th
century are still extant.64
These later versions enumerate in eight, eleven, seventeen or twent y
paragraphs the privileges and duties of the komusØ – not of the institution Fuke-
sh¨ (!) – such as extra-territoriality and their submission to the jurisdiction and
authority of a given main temple or of the office for religious affairs of the bakufu;
they also are allowed freedom of travel, the right to bear swords, free use of ferries,
free admission to theatres, sumØ tournaments, etc. Mention is also made of the
restriction of recruiting komusØ only from the ranks of the bushi.
The oldest attested form of the document was sent to the “office for temples
and shrines” (Jisha-bugyØ 寺社奉行) of the bakufu by the two main temples of the
Fuke-sh¨, the Ichigetsu-ji 一月寺 and the ReihØ-ji 鈴法寺 in Edo 江戸, in the year
1792. The request for this document was, in my opinion, a reaction by the bakufu
to the publication of the Denki one year earlier, a document which, quite naturally,
made the case for a considerably higher degree of historicity and legitimacy for the
Fuke-sh¨ as an institutionalised subsect of the Rinzai-sh¨. This was a far higher
status than the komusØ organisation – whatever this was – had had before.
Another even longer document, bearing the same name as the older version,
and quite consistent with the other extant versions, was sent by the two temples on
receipt of the request of the office in the year 1846 (KØka 弘化 3); this document
has a note saying that the originals from the year 1614 had been destroyed in the
temple fires of the years 1707 (HØei 寶永 4, Ichigetsu-ji) and 1703 (Genroku 元祿
16, ReihØ-ji). The authenticity of this document had already been questioned as
early as in the 18th century by the scholar Arai Hakuseki 新井白石 (1656-1725) on
the basis of linguistic and historical “irregularities.”
The character of the members of the Fuke-sh¨ became more and subject to
the suspicion of being uncontrollable by the bakufu. This became more alarming as
the sect became increasingly open to ordinary shakuhachi players and in the second
half of the 19th century the bakufu obviously tried unsuccessfully to liquidate the
privileges of the Fuke-sh¨.
63
Sanford 1977: 418. Only in Kurihara (1918: 130-143) four different versions are quoted.
From the side of the bakufu there are only documents from the year 1677 (EnpØ 延寶 5) in
64
which the infrastructure of the main monasteries is laid down, the restriction of admission
to the sect is emphasized and Ichigetsu-ji and ReihØ-ji are recognized as the principal
monasteries of the sect (cf. Sanford 1977: 420, note 38). MyØan-ji, which originally has
been a subtemple (matsuji 末寺 ) of the ReihØ-ji, in the year 1767 was recognised as a
subtemple of the KØkoku-ji 興國寺 , founded by Kakushin and thus obtained a higher
degree of independence and a legitimation of its own (cf. Sanford 1977: 431 f).
28 Japanese Religions 32 (1 & 2)
65
See Ueno 2002: 191 f, who also refers to the entry in the a dictionary of the second half
of the 15th, first half of the 16th century, the Kuromoto-Hajime-SetsuyØ-sh¨ 黑本本節用
集 : 薦僧(コモソウ)・普化(同), which states: “komusØ is the same as Fuke”; this entry is,
however, not an historical identification komusØ = Fuke-sh¨ but, instead, only shows
an early connection between the komusØ (and their strange behaviour) and the crazy
Chinese Zen monk par excellence, Puhua / Fuke.
66
For an interpretation of these titles see Fritsch 1983: 16 ff, whose discussion of the
three original honkyoku on page 14 f follows the inner tradition of the shakuhachi schools
without any critical differentiation.
67
It should be noticed that Chin. chi, Jap. ji 篪 is a traverse flute and not a vertical flute
like the shakuhachi.
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 29
古手帳, a work ascribed to the founder of the Kinko-ry¨, the same three honkyoku
are registered under the year KyØhØ 享保 13 (1728) with varying titles: Mukai-ji-
reibo 霧海篪靈慕, “Longing for the flute of the misty sea,” Kok¨ 虛空, Shinkyorei
真嘘靈, “Exhaling soul of truth” 68; in this list the archetypical piece referring
to the legend of the Denki, reflecting Fuke’s beating of the bell and ChØ Haku’s
imitation on the bamboo, the Kyotaku or Kyorei, the “Empty Bell,” is absent – That
is without mentioning the inverted order of the pieces with Kyotaku = Kyorei at the
end of the list. This piece, which is, from the standpoint of the Denki, the most
important one, appears first in a repertoire-list Takuhatsu-shugyØ-shintoku 托鉢修行
心得, “Rules (or: understanding) of the religious practice of alms-begging,” which
was produced between 1789 and 1818 (eras Kansei 寛政 and Bunsei 文政) in the
context of the MyØan-ji in Kyoto. It was not recorded, however, before the second
half of the 19th century (Ueno 2002: 251 f).
From all this, we can conclude that the canonised musical tradition, and the
systematisation of certainly already existing elements legitimising Fuke-sh¨ in
the Denki, probably originated in the proto-organisation of the Kinko-ry¨ which
was itself starting towards the end of the 18th century. This proto-organisation,
with its legend and related musical tradition, consolidated the Fuke-sh¨ as a Zen
denomination in its own right. The Kinko-ry¨ was also emerging in the context
of the Tokugawa policy towards religion, but it could, at the same time, find its
“spiritual” roots in the religious institution of the Fuke-sh¨.
68
Ueno 2002: 248. It should be noted that kyo 嘘 is ambivalent: in a Japanese context it
may mean – and originally probably meant – “lie”; the title could also be interpreted as
“Soul of truth and lie.”
69
Cf. Gutzwiller 1974: 23.
70
See Gutzwiller 1974: 22 f; unfortunately the diaries ascribed to him were assumedly
destroyed during a bomb raid on Tokyo and the extant copies have never been
published. He is held responsible for the Zen-ideological trait which is found in
Hisamatsu F¨yØ’s work (Gutzwiller 1974: 23).
30 Japanese Religions 32 (1 & 2)
The only extant writing which really has Zen-inspired content was composed
by Hisamatsu MasagorØ F¨yØ (1790-1845) 久松雅五朗風陽 who was a disciple
and factual successor of the third head of school (iemoto 家元) of the Kinko-ry¨
Kurosawa MasajirØ Kinko黑澤雅二朗琴古 (d. 1816). These works bear the titles
Hitori-gotoba 獨言, “Monologue” (before 1830), Hitori-mondØ 獨問答, “Monologous
dialogues” (1823) and Kaisei-hØgo 海靜法語, “Dharma-words of the silent sea”
(1838).71 In them the Zen-Buddhist ideology and rhetoric is combined with forms
of musical practice. This is evident in such sentences as ichion jØbutsu 一音成仏(佛),
“to achieve enlightenment by one sound” or chikuzen ichinyo 竹禅一如, “bamboo
[i.e.: the shakuhachi] and Zen are one and the same,” which are quoted over and
over again; the instrument itself is called hØki 法器, “instrument of the dharma.” 72
A passage from the Hitori-mondØ reads: “I become the bamboo and the bamboo
becomes me: dwelling in the void, acting in reality – when this is achieved one is an
extraordinary (shakuhachi-)player (meijin 名人).” 73
Despite all these catchphrases, Hisamatsu’s texts contain amazingly few
“Zenist” expressions and instead focus on the actual practice of the playing of
the instrument. Especially in Kaisei-hØgo, Hisamatsu comments in a nostalgic
way about the Fuke-sh¨, a comment which, at the same time, expresses criticism
of the present in general74 while also directing a captatio benevolentiae towards the
Tokugawa-bakufu:
The way of the (Fuke-)order has been transmitted for thousand years75 and
during this time, since (the era) ºei 應永 (1394-1412) and the (era) EikyØ 永
享 (1429-1441) mainly warriors (buf¨ 武夫) have been ordained into the order,
but, alas, through swords, halberds, arrows and guns the religious practice of
trodding the realm of truth has not been realised. Fortunately the essence of
(the teaching) (宗旨 sh¨shi) of the order has not fallen into decay, and during
these (past) two hundred years in which the Great Peace has returned (this
teaching) 76 has become bright. Nevertheless, there are no proven masters
any more and there is nobody to show the way of practice. Only idle words of
71
Texts and German translation in Gutzwiller 1983: 164-198.
72
The connotational range of this term includes the ambiguous meaning of musical
instrument / tool and the meaning “recipient.”
73
My translation is slightly different from Gutzwiller’s (1983: 180).
74
But also of contemporary Zen: “’Not practicing, walking ten thousand (miles) without
stopping, not (reaching) the end – that is the silence of the see.’ – and that is how one
should act. What is called the dharma instrument (hØki 法器 ), the shakuhachi, eludicates
the deeper sense of the Zen of all schools, (but) the schools (shoha 諸派 ) have split off
the deeper sense of Zen (zenshi 禪旨 ), do not use the s¨tras as measures (of teaching), do
not use scriptures; that is why one should realize enlightenment (satori 悟 ) on the basis
of non-action (mu’i 無為 ) and of (spiritual) breath ( 氣息 kisoku).” See, slightly different,
Gutzwiller 1983: 192.
75
I cannot accept Gutzwiller’s (1983: 189) over-negative interpretation of megurikite 運り
來て , “hat sich sehr verändert” (“has changed a lot”).
76
I.e.: the period of the Tokugawa bakufu.
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 31
egocentrism are skilfully used, the narrow view77 of hypocrisy is prevailing, and
therefore the (true) meaning of the shakuhachi as an instrument of the dharma is
distorted and the (deeper) meaning of Buddhism (butsu’i 佛意) is destroyed.78
77
Kanken 管見 certainly is ambiguous: “view of the (bamboo-)cane [i.e.: the shakuhachi].”
78
Text according to Gutzwiller 1983: 195, and Kuritani 1918: 216; note again that my
translation in some places is substantially different from Gutzwiller’s. It is striking that
in Hisamatsu’s text the introduction of Neo-Confucian concepts (e.g. in 陰 – yØ 陽 ) is
obviously used as a sign of “spirituality” but is at the same time a kowtow towards the
official Neo-Confucian ideology of the bakufu.
79
There is the Buddhist connotation or karmatic interconnection in the term en 縁 ,
“relation.”
80
See Ueno 2002: 179.
81
Ruien, 1131: “Other disciples (of Gakushin) were Kokusaku 國作 , RishØ 理正 , HØfu 法普
and SØjo 宗怒 (who) were also capable to learn (the art of the bamboo) cane. They were
called the ‘four householders’ (shi-koji 四居士 ) by people.” Tsuge 1977: 51, translates
shi-koji ambiguously as “Four Devoted Men.” An inconsistency is, of course, the fact that
these laypeople often have distinctly Buddhist monastic names (hØmyØ 法名 ); this may
be due to an attempt to imply a semi-religious status for these disciples.
32 Japanese Religions 32 (1 & 2)
among rich laypeople even on a historiographical level. This reflects the tendency
of the time, counteracting the official class order of the Tokugawa regime, to
facilitate social mobility, especially between the merchant and the samurai, shØnin
and buke, on the one side,82 and between monastics and laypeople on the other.
The concrete meeting places of music practitioners and connoisseurs from the
strands of the samurai and the shØnin were the so-called fukiawase(-dokoro) 吹合(所),
“(places) of common flute(-practice).” 83 These places were music schools which
had a rather loose connection with the head-monasteries of the Fuke-sh¨, and it
is completely unclear if, and to what extent, ordained komusØ were taught in these
schools. This shows again the secondary role of the assumed historical subjects
of shakuhachi-Zen. The woodblock prints (ukiyo-e 浮世繪) of the late Edo-period
depicting komusØ often show the dandy-version called date- 伊達 or santo-komusØ 三
都虚無僧. They are also known under the ironical name tabako-komusØ 煙草虚無僧,
as they were said to only stick the shakuhachi into their mouth like a cigar without
being able to really play the instrument.
This laicization, or even “bourgoisization,” 84 is in line with the art genre
and the aesthetic of ukiyo-e 浮世絵 whose name, “pictures from a floating world,”
already evokes Buddhist connotations without a real and clear Buddhist content.
There is also a counter-tendency of rationalization which can be found expressed
in the well-balanced critique of religion of Tominaga Nakamoto 富永仲本
(1715-1746) in his ShutsujØ-kØgo 出定後語).85 It can also be observed in a direct and
biting polemical attack against Fuke by the Neo-Confucian Hayashi Razan (1650):
The fool Fuke – this name – I laugh at him (whose) tricks are without success.
I would like to hear the sound of the bell in his two hands, to hear the superb
sound without sound. (Ruien, 1146)
82
For a general discussion see the case-study by Bellah 1985, well-known, although not
undisputed, but still convincing in some of its basic analysis.
83
See Ueno 2002: 236 ff.
84
Another early semi-mythical figure of the merchant-Zen connoisseur is Sen no Riky¨
千利休 (1522-1591), the famous tea master and iemoto princeps of the two main tea-
ceremony branches in Japan, Ura-senke 裏千家 and Omote-senke 表千家 .
85
Cf. Pye 1990.
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 33
86
The text of the decree can be found in Ueno 2002, 234: “(According) to the article on
the abolishing of the rules of the Fuke-sh¨, (effective) from today, monastic officials
and monks ( jusØ 住僧 ) are to be restored into the status of citizens (minseki 民籍 ), to be
transferred to the fixed conditions and it should be arranged that they enter professions
appropriate to the region. The temples left after the abolishing of the order (haish¨ 廃
宗 ), however, be sold for an appropriate price, a duty and auxiliary service to their
original inhabitants after they have returned to laity (kizoku 歸俗 ). Shinmatsu 辛末 , 10th
month, DaijØkan 太政官 .”
87
See Ketelaar 1990: 96.
88
The MyØan-ji did not play a real role as a main temple of the Fuke-sh¨ in the documents
before the Meiji-era. It was probably gaining this value after the abolishment of the sect
as a temple which was still “available” and did not have the direct Tokugawa connections
of the two head-temples in Tokyo.
89
See Weisgarber 1968: 314. The MyØan-kyØkai 明闇教會 was established in 1889 (Meiji
22) (Shibata 1979: 5). For a short description of MyØan-“komusØ” in TaishØ-Japan, after
the institution of the Fuke-sh¨ had already been abolished, see Shibata 1976: 57.
34 Japanese Religions 32 (1 & 2)
pre-Meiji shakuhachi music. One could call these attempts the national legacy of
the komusØ in a form which had been purified of the aberrant phenomena of the
Edo period.90 At the same time, the rise of these schools constituted the clear
and consequent victory of the bourgeois shakuhachi players over the – be it real or
constructed – exclusivity of the bushi-komusØ.
12. Conclusion
The complex “real” and textual history of the komusØ, the Fuke-sh¨ and
shakuhachi-Zen is, admittedly, an example from the periphery of the history of
Japanese religions; however, what makes it special is, in my opinion, the fact that
the concept of “invented traditions,” postulated and exemplified by Eric Hobsbawm
und Terence Ranger (1983) is so relevant. This concept, was applied representatively
in the volume “Mirror of Modernity – Invented Traditions of Modern Japan” 91 in
the case of several social and cultural developments in Meiji-Japan; but it can be
dated back to late Tokugawa-Japan and thus calls into question standard narratives
of a rather abrupt change of paradigms as a consequence of the foundation and
consolidation of the Meiji regime. The formation of the history and ideology of
the Fuke-sh¨ goes back to a period which was marked by social tensions between
a wealthy class of merchant-bourgeoiserie (shØnin 商人) striving for cultural and
intellectual emancipation in the context of the decline and impoverishment of
much of the warrior class (bushi 武士). This context – despite and because of Robert
Bellah’s notion of a Weberian protestant working ethic during the Tokugawa-
period – made claims to religiosity and spirituality through the appropriation or
creation of “fictive” lines of transmission and tradition. This tradition was finally
transferred into the secular context of Meiji-Japan in order to contribute, in the case
of shakuhachi-music, to the creation of a national identity92 in the sense of an ancient
90
This development ran parallel with the official doctrine of kØsei isshin 皇制一新 ,
“renovation of Imperial rulership,” in the historical blueprint of which the Tokugawa-
bakufu represented the last one of the six “impurities” in the Imperial history of Japan
(Cp. Ketelaar 1990: 119).
91
Vlastos (1998: 3) states: “… tradition is not the sum of actual past practices that
have perdured into the present; rather, tradition is as a modern trope, a prescriptive
representation of socially desirable (or sometimes undesirable) institutions and ideas
thought to have been handed down from generation to generation.”
92
This is probably also the reason for the construction of the conspiracy “myth” around
the Fuke-sh¨ and its collaboration with the Tokugawa-bakufu: it was indeed a difficult
task for the new shakuhachi establishment to legitimize the abolition of the sect through
the Meiji administration with the help of a theory of decadence while at the same time
preserving the “lineage of tradition.” In reality the Fuke-sh¨ belonged rather to the
groups which were judged as a conspiring organisation; let alone that the MyØan-ji in
Kyoto had been a supporter of the Imperial case: see Sanford 1977: 432, note 193. on the
so-called Sengoku-case (Sengoku-sØdØ 仙石騒動 ) and on an incident in the MyØan-ji.
Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 35
tradition which is only preserved in Japan (Cf. Kikkawa 1984). Such a musical
tradition could then eventually enter into a new, second period of spiritualisation
in the postwar period of Zen-enthusiasm in the West. Paradoxically, in Japan this
assumed spirituality was lost in the more and more secularised and formalised
world of Japanese shakuhachi practice of the main schools. It seems, however, latterly,
to be more and more the case that shakuhachi practice is constructed in terms of a
consciousness of it, “re”transferred as this has been from the West, as a spiritual
Zen-instrument.93
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Deeg: Komusº and “Shakuhachi-Zen” 37
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Assessing the shakuhachi tradition of the Fuke sect of Zen Buddhism through French psychoanalytic optics,
Zachary Wallmark engages in a type of scholarly practice that many ethnomusicologists would find problematic––if
not, indeed, abject: the application of Western theoretical paradigms to non-Western music cultures. Wallmark is
aware of this problem: after introducing Julia Kristeva’s concept of abjection as reliant upon “a strictly policed
binary logic founded on the fundamental duality between ‘I’ and ‘not-I,’” he asks whether this logic can be
credibly mapped onto “cultures and musical systems that reject binary logic,” an appellation which Japanese Zen
Buddhism might seem to exemplify. Rather than attempting to answer this question through etic theoretical
maneuvering, Wallmark, a shakuhachi player himself, turns to fellow tradition-bearers Bill Shozan Schultz, Kentaro
Idemitsu, and Watazumi Doso (among others); scholar Tsuneko Tsukitani; and, most revealingly, a set of early
nineteenth-century manuscripts by Hisamatsu Fuyo; “virtually the only [premodern] sources for the spiritual
background of the musical practices of the Fuke-Sect” (Gutzwiller 1984:57). The resulting dialogue between
practitioners unfolds a multifaceted insider exegesis of the nuanced relationship between sound and spiritual
practice, the dynamics of which are modified in each instance by personal as well as subcultural, cultural, and
transcultural values.
Wallmark’s emic turn facilitates a suturing with ethnomusicology’s cultural relativist theoretical doxa; in light of
recent calls to re-examine the place of theory within ethnomusicology, however, I would like to temporarily re-open
the suture (see Rice 2010, etc.). Setting aside Japan for a moment, it is interesting to note that the emic/etic
binary––anthropological shorthand for insider/outsider––can itself be juxtaposed with Kristeva’s concept of the
abject. Critiquing the classical Freudian assumption that an a priori opposition exists between subject and object,
Kristeva hypothesizes that in order to establish a “defensive position” of bounded subjectivity, we must constantly
abject, or cast away, that which recalls the primal indeterminacy “between I/Other or, in more archaic fashion,
between Inside and Outside” (1982:7). Whereas for Freud, primary repression is the repression of the
already-constituted subject's forbidden desire for a particular relation to a particular object (the mother), Kristeva
suggests that primary repression is the repression of the original ambiguity of the subject-object relation itself, and
posits abjection as an almost autonomic response to objects which portend a return to this repressed
proto-subjective condition. Bodily fluids, wounds, vomit-inducing foods, and the act of vomiting: such things do not
provoke unease because they recall specific psychological traumas, but rather, because their quality of
in-between-ness recalls the fragility of the Inside/Outside border on which our individuated existence depends.
Because Kristeva's concept of abjection is not bound to any one general theory of psychodynamics, it can serve as
a pivot point between microanalysis of the subject and macroanalysis of any social field in which affectively
over-determined Inside/Outside binaries come into play. As previously hinted at, academia itself is one such field.
There is significant social capital invested in the disciplinary criteria by which areas and methods of inquiry are
deemed legitimate or illegitimate, and the disciplinary vocabularies with which we represent our ‘informants’ and
ourselves. For all the debate within ethnomusicology over the transcultural portability of certain culturally loaded
theoretical concepts––“the aesthetic,” for example, or “the abject”––other concepts are often exempted from
interrogation; perhaps, to borrow from the contemporary pop-political vernacular, they are implicitly regarded as
“too big to fail.” At the root of our own disciplinary vocabulary, of course, there is “music”––a word that is itself far
from unproblematic. To write about “Japanese music” as if the term were transparent, for example, would be to
ignore the fact that “before contact with the West, Japan had no all-embracing term referring to any [and all]
humanly organized sound, religious or secular, vocal or instrumental, aristocratic or plebian” (Hosokawa 2012:2).1
Of course, this is no longer the case: beginning in the 1880s, the Japanese state proactively introduced the word
ongaku as a translational equivalent to “music,” largely to facilitate the implementation of standardized music
education programs in the newly centralized schools and military. It is telling that the concept of “music” entered
Japan as a matter of policy; indeed, the lack of a premodern concept-word for anthropogenic sound applicable
across stylistic and social boundaries speaks eloquently to the Meiji government’s monumental task of forging “a
new concept of a national people that would overcome . . . the painful realities of a nation divided by class and
regional differences” (Doak 1996:94). While certainly useful as a classifier, this concept-word did not enter the
Japanese language without friction, nor was it devoid of baggage. In part due to the circumstances of its
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introduction and in part because it had been used in the past to refer to musics of Tang Chinese origin, ongaku
initially carried a connotation of foreign-ness (Western-ness) that made scholars of Japanese music hesitant to
adopt it (Hosokawa 2012:6). To others, this very connotation ennobled the term: when prewar ethnographer
Tanabe Hisao asked a Japanese colonial official in Taiwan whether the aboriginal population had ongaku, “the
officer’s reply was categorical: ‘they have songs but no ongaku’” (7). His meaning, of course, was that the
aboriginals had no civilized music. Introduced as a means of nationalizing structures of feeling, the concept of
“music” quickly emerged as an index of the new Japanese nation-state’s progress toward a Euro-American
standard of civilization, as well as toward the realization of its desire for geopolitical parity with the Western imperial
powers––a desire of which Tanabe’s and the dismissive colonial official’s very presence in Taiwan was
symptomatic.
Ironically, Western visitors to Japan had been making similarly dismissive pronouncements for centuries.
Portuguese missionary Luis Frois wrote in 1588 that “Japanese music, since they all howl together in one single
voice in falsetto, is the most horrid that can exist” (Eppstein 2007:192), while the first British minister to Japan, Sir
Rutherford Alcock, asserted in 1863 that “the discord they make, when they set themselves to produce what they
call music, is something that baffles all description” (195). Japan was not the only non-Western society to be
judged by its humanly organized sound: Western scholars have long deployed the music/non-music binary as a
means of marking the border between the civilized and the savage, the human and the non-human worlds. The first
work of comparative transcription, a 1636 study of Canadian and Brazilian indigenous songs by Marin Marsenne,
introduced “a logical-analytical chain of reasoning that linked the sounds of nature, inanimate objects, animals,
children, and women with non-European people and their music” (Ellingson 1992:113); just over two centuries
later, in his canonical work On the Musically Beautiful, Eduard Hanslick lamented that “when the South Sea
Islander bangs rhythmically with bits of metal and wooden staves and along with it sets up an unintelligible wailing,
this is the natural kind of ‘music’, yet it just is not music” (1986:70). Hanslick’s quasi-Hegelian speculation on the
progression of “the musically competent Spirit” from “the natural kind of ‘music’” to proper "music” foreshadowed
early comparative musicological narratives of a linear evolution from inarticulate noise, through various "primitive"
stages (of which non-Western musics are vestigial traces), to mature Western polyphony. Remarkably, this
evolutionism persisted in musicological discourse well into the twentieth century, as evidenced by Curt Sachs’s
1943 exclamation that “it is exciting to learn that the earliest known stage of music reappears in the babble songs
of small children in European countries. For once the ontogenic law is fully confirmed: the individual summarized
the evolution of mankind” (44).
It is, of course, the impulse to reject the violence implicit in such statements that drives contemporary
ethnomusicologists to police against theoretical imperialism.2 Yet might the very vehemence of our rejection––or
abjection––testify to the uncanny realization that our Eurocentric past is not as external to us as we would like to
think? In a structural sense, after all, it is very much alive; imperialism established the historical preconditions for
the development of the social structures and contradictions which we, as students of contemporary non-Western
cultures, have set ourselves to decoding––as well as the institutionalized Euro-American privilege which affords us
the luxury of doing so within the relatively autonomous social field of the academy. The "line in the sand" often
drawn between cultural relativism and (Eurocentric) universalism dissembles the fact that both ideologies are
discursive constructs of a particular expansionist political-economic system––identified by Jameson as late
capitalism, by Wallerstein as the modern world-system, etc.––which has achieved a previously inconceivable
degree of global saturation. When we ontologize cultural difference as it appears at any one point in time, we
unwittingly occlude the dialectical interplay of systemic historical forces within which real and imagined differences
(in ideology, artistic practices, the practice of everyday life, etc.) take shape. As Jameson, Wallerstein, and others
have pointed out, this occlusion cripples our ability to formulate meaningful anti-systemic critique.
My point here is not to advocate “the arrogant and wholesale imposition by Western scholars of theories created in
the crucible of one culture on other cultures” (Sorgenfrei 2007:312)––this is not a mode of scholarly practice that
deserves recuperation. Neither, however, is the thinly veiled racial or environmental determinism toward which
radical evocations of cultural relativism sometimes point (313). The concept of dwelling between these extremes is
hardly new; few ethnomusicologists today would defend either the grand theories of high modernism or the
essentialist models of culture invoked by nationalist politicians. It is, however, a perpetual challenge, one that
demands a continual testing and expansion of the limits and norms of discourse. Often, this can be done through
tried-and-true (ethno)musicological methods: in graphing the audible difference between recordings made by
master shakuhachi players Doso Watazumi and Richard Stagg, for example, Wallmark renders visible the
heterogeneity of what non-tradition-bearers might perceive as a unified "Inside," reminding us that difference
obtains within the emic and etic as well as between them. Sometimes, however, adopting an extra-disciplinary
perspective proves more fruitful: Wallmark’s use of Kristeva and Bataille to illuminate the seemingly paradoxical
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relationship between spiritual and aesthetic experience in the Fuke tradition demonstrates this admirably.
The paper’s greatest strength, though, is not these deductions but the discursive framework through which it
arrives at them: dialogue. If we are sincere in our desire to attune our disciplinary norms to the intellectual and
artistic needs of a rapidly changing and increasingly multi-polar world, we should consider the benefit of treating the
bearers of the musical traditions we study as interlocutors rather than ‘informants’; as equally capable of
theoretical and methodological inquiry as ourselves, and often invested in applying the fruits of their own
intellectual journeys to their musical (and spiritual) practice. Interestingly, Kristeva’s re-assessment of the
self-Other distinction as the permutable trace of a continual interplay of internal and external forces rather than an a
priori binary intersects with the dialogic model of ethnography adopted by Wallmark and other recent scholars.
Dialogic ethnography, which assumes an ethical and intellectual (if not necessarily political or economic) parity with
the tradition-bearer, seeks to give the Inside/Outside binary an in-between, a space of mediation. In this model, etic
theory can be introduced into discourse less as an exegetical fiat than as an incitement to further dialogue and the
collaborative creation of synthetic theory: I can testify, for example, to the tremendous contributions my Japanese
and Indonesian interlocutors have made to my own understanding and application of Euro-American theoretical
and methodological models, and am guessing Wallmark can say the same. At risk of courting the reader’s
abjection one last time with an epigrammatic cliché, perhaps the final place of theory in a developed work of
dialogic ethnography can be glimpsed in the second half of a well-worn Zen aphorism: once you have seen the
moon, you no longer need the finger.
References
Doak, Kevin M. 1996. “Ethnic Nationalism and Romanticism in Early Twentieth-Century Japan.” Journal of
Japanese Studies 22(1):77-103.
Ellingson, Ter. 1992. “Transcription.” In Ethnomusicology: An Introduction, edited by Helen Meyers, 110–52. New
York: W.W. Norton and Company.
Eppstein, Ury. 2007. “From Torture to Fascination: Changing Western Attitudes to Japanese Music.” Japan Forum
19(2):191-216.
Gutzwiller, Andreas. 1984. “The Shakuhachi of the Fuke-Sect: Instrument of Zen.” World of Music 26(3):53-65.
Hanslick, Eduard. 1986 [1891]. On the Musically Beautiful. Translated by Geoffrey Payzant. Indianapolis: Hackett
Publishing Company.
Hosokawa, Shuhei. 2012. “Ongaku.” In Working Words: New Approaches to Japanese Studies. Berkeley:
University of California, Berkeley Center for Japanese Studies.
Kikkawa, Eishi. 1984. Nihon ongaku no biteki kenkyuu [Research in the aesthetics of Japanese music]. Tokyo:
Ongaku no tomo-sha.
Kristeva, Julia. 1982. Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection. Translated by Leon S. Raudiez. New York:
Columbia University Press.
Rice, Timothy. 2010. “Disciplining Ethnomusicology: A Call for a New Approach.” Ethnomusicology 54(2).
Sachs, Curt. 1943. The Rise of Music in the Ancient World. New York: W.W. Norton and Co. Inc.
Sorgenfrei, Carol Fisher. 2007. “Countering Theoretical Imperialism: Some Possibilities From Japan.” Theatre
Research International 32(3):312-324.
Notes
1 According to Kikkawa (1984), the word ongaku was used as early as the eighth century to refer to music of
Chinese origin (courtly gagaku). During the Edo period, it was picked up by theatre musicians to refer to
gagaku-flavored sound effects used in Buddhist temple scenes, for the appearance of Chinese celestial nymphs,
and other special scenes. Shamisen music and other popular musics, on the other hand, were referred to as
ongyoku, a term which excluded religious genres, rural genres, children’s songs, and other styles.
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2 I am borrowing this term from Carol Sorgenfrei’s “Countering ‘Theoretical Imperialism’: Some Possibilities From
Japan” (2007). While Sorgenfrei does not discuss music per se, she demonstrates how “Japanese critical theories
that modify or fuse Japanese and Western psychoanalytic and aesthetic concepts” can offer new perspectives on
contemporary and traditional performing arts.
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Daniel B. RIBBLE
English
Abstract. This paper compares and contrasts two bamboo flutes found at the opposite ends of
the continent of Asia. There are a number of similarities between the ney, or West Asian reed
flute and the shakuhachi or Japanese bamboo flute, and certain parallels in their historical
development, even though the two flutes originated in completely different socio-cultural
contexts. One flute developed at the edge of West Asia, and can be traced back to an origin in
ancient Egypt, and the other arrived in Japan from China in the 3th century and subsequently
underwent various changes over the next millenium. Despite the differences in the flutes today,
there may be some common origin for both flutes centuries ago.
Both flutes are vertical, endblown instruments. The nay, also spelled ney, as it is referred
to in Turkey or Iran, and as the nai in Arab lands, is a rim blown flute of Turkey, Iran, the
Arab countries, and Central Asia, which has a bevelled edge made sharp on the inside, while
the shakuhachi is an endblown flute of Japan which has a blowing edge which is cut at a
downward angle towards the outside from the inner rim of the flute. Both flutes are reed-
less woodwinds or air reed flutes. The shakuhachi has a blowing edge which is usually
fitted with a protective sliver of water buffalo horn or ivory, a development begun in the
17th century. The rim of the nay is often covered by a metal band to prevent damage to
the flute, and the Turkish ney has a separate conical mouthpiece called the baspare which is
produced from materials such as water buffalo horn, ivory, ebony or other wood (and more
recently, plastic) a development dating from the beginning of the 13th century. The Persian
ney has a cylindrical mouthpiece called the sari, often made of brass, which is to protect the
reed flute from damage.
( 1)
2 The Shakuhachi and the Ney: A Comparison of Two Flutes from the Far Reaches of Asia
As for the Japanese vertical flute, the name shakuhachi refers to the length of the
instrument, shakuhachi meaning "one shaku, eight sun," the shaku being a traditional unit
of measurement in Japan regarded as equivalent to 30.3 centimeters, with the sun being
l/lOth of a shaku (Ikuya Kitahara, Misao Matsumoto, and Akira Matsuda, p. 188 ). The
standard length of shakuhachi is one shaku eight sun (1.8), equivalent to about 54.5 cm, and
is an instrument in the key of D, but other lengths are played, for example, the 1.6
shakuhachi, in the key of E, for Japanese twentieth century traditional music compositions
such as Miyagi Michio's Haru No Umi, and the common range of instruments is from about
1.3-2.4 shaku (33.3- 72.7 cm), though longer flutes are played, especially for the shakuhachi's
solo repertoire.
The shakuhachi has been traditionally constructed of bamboo though today there are
wooden models and plastic flutes which are often used by beginning students, and in
Australia, high quality wooden shakuhachis are sometimes made from various tropical
hardwoods (notably by flute maker David Brown) as Australia's climate is rather dry,
leading to problems with cracking in the bamboo shakuhachis.
The term nay derives from the old Persian word for bamboo or reed, and the instrument
was originally made from a bamboo reed, but today it is also sometimes made of wood or
metal. Nowadays, both shakuhachi and nay flutes are often constructed from the ubiquitous
PVC pipe for the beginning player. The plant traditionally used for the nay is a yellow cane
reed called Arundo Donax, a pseudo bamboo which resembles "real" bamboos in appearance
and in the uses to which it is put (David Farrelly, 1984, p.198). (The other prominent
woodwind connection arundo donax has is as a source for saxophone and clarinet reeds).
The length of the nay varies according to the region in which it is found, for example, the
Persian Nay ranges from 40-80 cm, while the Azerbaijan nay is 60-70cm long. The reed
pipe nay is said to vary in length from 20-80 cm (Stanley Sadie, ed., vol. 17, p. 854). Both
shakuhachi and nay flutes have a a similar length range.
Fundamental notes
For playing the traditional Japanese music dating from the Edo period (1600-1868) the 1.8
( 2)
3
flute with D as the base note predominates. while in Arab music there is no predominant
length as such, but the Arabic standard nay, or nay Dukah, has D as its fundamental note.
The shakuhachi is pitched at the note made when all five finger holes are covered. as is the
Turkish ney, while the Arabic ney is pitched at the note made with the first fingerhole (the
one nearest the bottom end of the flute) open. The modern shakuhachi, which took its
present shape in the 17th century, has four finger holes in front and one thumb hole in back,
situated higher up on the flute. The Persian nay has five finger holes in front and one
thumb hole in back, also situated higher up on the flute, while the Turkish and Egyptian
neys have six finger holes in front and one thumb hole in back. There are nays with other
numbers of fingerholes, the Azerbaijan ney, for example, having from three to six finger
holes (Anthony Baines, 1992, p. 220). In recent years shakuhachis with different numbers of
finger holes have been made. in particular, seven and nine hole shakuhachis, often crafted in
order to play jazz or modern music more easily, but these have never managed to
supercede the five hole flutes in popularity, and some traditional shakuhachi players do not
even regard flutes having other than five holes as being true shakuhachi. The ancient
shakuhachi, eight instruments of which are found in the 8th century Shosoin, or National
Treasure House. in Nara, have five finger holes in front and one thumb hole in back, the
same number as today's Persian ney.
The ancient flutes kept in Nara are made not only of bamboo, but also of stone and ivory,
The bamboo flutes found in Nara are made from a bamboo called hachiku (phyllostachys
nigra,. var. henonis). while shakuhachi made from the Edo period up through modern times
are in most cases made from madake (phyllostachys bambusoides), a bamboo with a wider
internal diameter. The nay has a diameter that varies between 1.5-2.5 cm (Sadie, ed.,, vol.
17, p.154), close to that of the ancient shakuhachi's kept in the Shosoin, which have an
external diameter of about 2.5 cm. Today's standard 1.8 (one shaku, eight sun) shakuhachi
usually has a slightly larger external diameter of about 3.5 cm, flaring to 5.0 cm at the root,
and an internal diameter ranging from 1.5-2.0 cm, with longer flutes having a slighter larger
internal diameter and shorter flutes having a slightly smaller diameter.
The Persian ney is commonly referred to as the ney-e haftband, which means the ney
with seven nodes (Sadie, ed .. v. 12, p. 540), while the standard shakuhachi of today also has
( 3)
4 The Shakuhachi and the Ney: A Comparison of Two Flutes from the Far Reaches of Asia
seven fushi, or nodes. The Turkish ney is usually one made up of nine segments of reed.
One length of bamboo reed is usually used for the nay, and one length of bamboo is also
used in making a shakuhachi, though today's shakuhachis are usually given a middle joint
and the one length of bamboo is cut into two pieces, though one piece flutes, or nobekan, are
still crafted by some makers of shakuhachi.
Banding
Both instruments are sometimes banded to keep the bamboo from splitting, the ney with
metal bands at the top and bottom of the flute, and the shakuhachi often with thinner metal
or ceramic bands on either side of the center joint, and sometimes with bamboo strips at
various points along the length of the instrument. The shakuhachi usually has a lacquered
inner bore, though there are also ji-nashi flutes, those without ji, or "material," consisting of
urushi, or lacquer, and tonoko, or polishing powder, and the inner bore of the ney, though
not lacquered, is often coated several times a year with almond or another type of
transparent vegetable oil. Some shakuhachi players oil the outside of their flutes with
walnut or another vegetable oil, but the majority do not, the oils from one's hands being
considered sufficient.
The nay is usually a straight length of reed, though not always, and while the shakuhachi
is sometimes a straight length of bamboo, the aesthetic ideal is a curved instrument, and the
bell of the vertical bamboo flute is often made to curve a bit outwards when the flute is
made.
Both the shakuhachi and the ney have reputations as being very difficult instruments to
learn to play. There is a well-known saying associated with the shakuhachi, "kubi furi san
nen" ("to shake the head three years") which is used to indicate the difficulty connected
with playing the instrument, and also a second part to that saying, known primarily among
shakuhachi players, "koro hachi-nen," -- "to do the koro technique (a finger tremelo), eight
years," also a reference to the long period of time needed to master the instrument. As for
the nay, according to Anthony Baines, "to most Europeans the nay is the most difficult of
flutes to sound." ( Baines, p. 220), and according to The Turkish Ney F.A.Q. on Heruka's
( 4)
5
Original Homepage of the Ney(www.bardoworks.it/ney.html), "it is normal that you try for
several weeks before getting the first sound."
In the teaching traditions of both flutes. there is an emphasis placed on the importance of
playing one note well. Ney players or Neyzen have a saying "one breath, one life," while
shakuhachi players have a saying "Ichion Jobutsu," or "enlightenment in one sound," which
comes from the komuso. or wandering shakuhachi playing monks of the Edo Period (1603-
1868). For both instruments, the term "blowing" as in "blowing ney" or "blowing
shakuhachi" generally appears to be more commonly used than the terms "playing ney," or
"playing shakuhachi."
Players of both instruments often use alternate fingerings for the same note in order to
produce different tone colors. and ney players as well as shakuhachi players use movements
of the lips and of the head for different musical effects. An essential part of playing the
shakuhachi is moving the head or chin down to get meri or flattened notes and moving the
( 5)
6 The Shakuhachi and the Ney: A Comparison of Two Flutes from the Far Reaches of Asia
Name seals
The makers of the shakuhachi stamp their hanko or name seal on each instrument after it
is made, with instruments the makers feel are exceptional pieces of work getting two or
three hanko. Egyptian and Lebanese neys also get the signature of their maker burned into
the flute or carved in and filled with ink.
Both instruments have distinct traditions of ensemble and solo music The vertical bamboo
flute started out as an instrument of the gagaku orchestra, thought to have been introduced
into Japan in the 8th century from the orchestra of the Chinese court along with other
instruments which are still used today in Japan's national gagaku orchestra -- the sho,
hichiriki, and ryuteki, among others -- but by the 10th century it had disappeared from the
court orchestra and also managed to vanish from the historical record for several centuries,
to reappear in the Muromachi Period (1333-1568) as a flute called the hitoyogiri (literally
"one-node cutting"), an instrument played by wandering beggar monks called komoso,
literally "straw mat monks." In the Edo period it underwent yet another transition to
become the chosen instrument of another group of monks, the komuso, "monks of
emptiness," a sect of wandering Zen priests which only admitted members of the samurai
class, who were often ronin, or masterless samurai who had lost their original ranks in
conflicts among clans in the latter part of the 16th century.
Just as the ney has legends associated with its invention, it is generally believed that the
komuso sect gave the shakuhachi a fabricated, or "legendary" history which traced the
instrument's origin back to a 9 1h century Chinese priest named Fuke, whose chanting
supposedly inspired a piece called Kyorei, or Empty Bell, the first of the "honkyoku,"
literally "original music" pieces of the Zen Buddhist sect. In association with the komuso,
and their sect of Zen, called the Fuke-shu, with its 50 or more temples (according to various
sources, the number of temples has been listed as 55, 64, 72, or 77), the distinct solo
repertoire referred to as honkyoku developed for the shakuhachi (Blaesdel, 1988, p. 108).
The instrument itself was referre.d to by the komuso as a religious instrument, or "hoki," as
( 6)
7
opposed to" gakki," or musical instrument. and the playing of the shakuhachi became a
spiritual discipline (though not all of the komuso were religiously inclined). The breath
became the primary element in the honkyoku. with rhythm being defined by the breathing
pattern in the "original music" pieces, which often had themes based on Zen concepts or
phenomena in nature, and which were passed down orally for several centuries before
finally being written down and arranged in the 18th century by a komuso named Kurosawa
Kinko (1710-1771), who may also have started the practice of teaching Fuke sect shakuhachi
to laymen. The kari and meri, or sharp and flattened notes on the shakuhachi were thought
to represent yo and in (yang and yin), respectively, and playing the combination of both
types of notes in traditional Zen pieces was symbolic of playing the universe itself. Ney
pieces also appear to have been passed down orally until Ottoman art music began to be
transcribed in the mid 1Th century.
It is thought that near the beginning of the Edo period the shakuhachi evolved from the
straight and narrow six holed hitoyogiri to a stouter five holed flute with a curved bell
displaying the prominent flaring root end of the bamboo, though the hitoyogiri still
continued to be used until the 18th century, both for vocal accompaniment and in sankyoku
(literally "music for three," in this case the koto, shamisen, and hitoyogiri) ensembles in the
Edo pleasure districts. The thicker walled Edo period shakuhachi, with its knoblike root-
end may have developed to serve as a defensive weapon for the komuso on their travels
through the Japanese countryside. though there is also a theory that the shape may have
been influenced by the development in South China of a similar looking vertical dongxiao
flute which may have been brought into Japan by Chinese immigrants in the 17th century
(Sadie. ed., . v. 12, p. 833).
Towards the end of the Edo Period the instrument began to be used in Japanese
ensemble music as part of a trio with the koto, a bridged, plucked zither, and the shamisen,
the Japanese banjo-like lute, just as the hitoyogiri was. In this trio, or sankyoku, the
shakuhachi took the place of the kokyu or Japanese bowed lute. which had accompanied the
sangen. or shamisen, and the koto. The shakuhachi pieces for ensemble music were called
"gaikyoku," literally, "outside pieces," to distinguish them from the honkyoku. In the early
twentieth century the music of the instrument underwent further changes influenced by by
19th century European music arriving in Japan, and pieces from that period came to be
referred to as "shinkyoku," or "new pieces," with pieces composed after the Second World
( 7)
8 The Shakuhachi and the Ney: A Comparison of Two Flutes from the Far Reaches of Asia
War given yet another name, that of "gendai kyoku," or modern pieces.
The ney also had distinct ensemble and solo traditions. In the countryside it was often an
instrument played by shepherds, but it also became the only wind instrument used in the
classical Persian orchestra, and was played along with the lute's ancestor, the oud, and with
the qanum, a plucked trapezium box zither which was plucked with plectra on the fingers,
just as the Japanese koto was, though the instruments themselves were quite different in
appearance. Later the medieval Iranian ensemble was replaced by a smaller ensemble
which included the ney and the tanbur, a long necked lute. Both the shakuhachi and the
ney were played with a lute and a zither in their respective culture's classical music
traditions. While the gaikyoku, or shakuhachi music pieces played together with koto and
shamisen, were played in the entertainment districts of Edo as well as in the home, the
Persian classical pieces were limited to special private gatherings, usually in aristocratic
homes, as Islam imposed religious constraints which tended to discourage large public
forums for musical events. (Sadie, vol. 12, p. 536). One key difference in the ensemble
traditions of the two flutes is that in the Iranian ensemble, the ney was the lead melodic
instrument, but in the Japanese classical music of the latter 19th century, the main melody
line was either played by the koto or the shamisen, with the shakuhachi playing a
supporting melody or a melismatic revision of the shamisen melody.
In its solo tradition, the nay also became associated with a particular religious sect, that
of the Mevlevi Ayin, founded by Jalal Al-Din Rumi in the 13th century; its followers known
in the West as 'whirling dervishes.' The "whirling dervishes" stressed the use of dance,
poetry, and music in their religious ceremonies, and for the Mevelvi, "ecstatic movements of
the body were recognized as expressions of a spontaneous emotion caused by experience of
the divine." (Sadie, ed.,, vol. 12, p. 603) This whirling ceremony, called the Sewa, was a
driving force in the sufi's search for truth, just as the shakuhachi in its role as a hoki, or
religious tool, provided a focus for the komuso's search for enlightenment through what was
called suizen, or blowing zen. The standardized musical form of the dervishes' ceremonial
dances, which used the ney as a solo instrument accompanied by the percussive
instruments def (a frame drum), and kudim (a small kettledrum) is thought to have
originated in the 1Th century, about the same time the komuso sect in Japan became
established and began playing their honkyoku pieces as aids to enlightenment. In the
Mevlevi Sufi sect, introductory passages before the ceremonial dance included a non-metric
( 8)
9
taksim (meaning" division"), or improvisatory solo, on the ney. Melodic segments of varying
length and intensity alternated with periods of silence (Bearman, P.J.. ed., volume X, p. 143) .
in some ways similar to shakuhachi honkyoku, where the "ma," or space between the notes
was and is considered as important as the notes themselves. In the case of the free rhythm
pieces on the ney, they were often supported by a rhythmic drone on one of several
percussion instruments. whereas the shakuhachi honkyoku pieces were always performed
solo (though some modern renditions of honkyoku or pieces derived from honkyoku have
been accompanied by percussion or other instruments). Komuso honkyoku pieces for
shakuhachi were also non-metric or non-rhythmic in character, with the bamboo flute pieces
retaining an improvisatory character to a degree which allowed different versions of various
honkyoku pieces to develop. The shakuhachi honkyoku tended to subject one basic melodic
idea to constant subtle variation. The ney had a repertory (radif) of pieces exclusively
reserved for it, just as the shakuhachi had its solo repertoire in the honkyoku. The taksim
pieces on the ney are thought to have originally been borrowed from vocal forms, as the
rhythm of the nonmetric music is similar to the prosody of Near Eastern poetry. Solo pieces
from both traditions often tended to progress from the lower to the higher register, and
then back again to the lower octave.
By the early 20th century, the music for the ney began to emphasize western music
notation and the use of composed forms over improvised taksim. Similarly, at the end of the
nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth century in Japan, one main school of
shakuhachi, the Tozan school, developed solo pieces influenced by Western music, and
certain occidentally based symbols began to make their way into the traditional music
notation. Honkyoku and gaikyoku pieces began to be played en masse. in imitation of the
western orchestra.
There are certain similarities between the religious traditions connected with both flutes.
though, of course, there are great differences as well. In the Edo period, the komuso
shakuhachi players begged for alms while taking their pilgrimages across the Japanese
countryside. They received three tools and three seals before they could begin life as
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10 The Shakuhachi and the Ney: A Comparison of Two Flutes from the Far Reaches of Asia
komuso monks, The three tools were the shakuhachi itself, a tengai basket hat which
concealed most of the wearer's face and symbolized non-attachment to ego, and the kesa, a
priest's sash worn over the kimono. The three seals were the honsoku, or komuso's license,
the kai'in. or personal identity papers, and the tsuin. a pass which enabled the komuso to
travel throughout the country without hindrance. There were originally only two ranks of
komuso, the jushoku, those who were fully ordained priests who lived in the temples, and
the kyogai. or wandering monks, the latter of which made up the majority of komuso (Riley
Kelley Lee, p. 128).
The Mehvlevi sect members in the Near East also begged for alms. After the novice had
finished his instruction he received the equivalent of a license from his teacher, and a rough
cloak, which served as an external sign of his status, similar to the tengai in the case of the
komuso, though not providing the anonymity the komuso's basket hat offered. The
Mehvlevi sect member also often carried a prayer rug, a rosary, and a begging bowl.
(Bearman, ed., Volume X. p. 315). The most important practice of the Sufis was the
remembrance of God (dhiku), and for the Mehvlevi sect, dance and music could help to bring
the practicioner to the point where he could have mukashafat, or "unveilings" which he
interepreted as coming from higher worlds, or from the Absolute. (Bearman, ed., volume X,
p. 315)
Support from governments for the Mevlevi sect and the komuso
The Mevlevi Sufi order received strong support and political influence from the Ottoman
Empire and so was able to further develop its own music, just as the Edo era komuso or
wandering Zen monks were given certain privelages by the Edo era Shogunate in return
for acting as government spies. Komuso monks had permission to travel freely from place
to place, retained free access to roads and checkpoints, were assured free passages on river
boats which connected with the roads used for traveling within Japan and were allowed to
demand payment in exchange for the playing of honkyoku on the bamboo flute. The
shakuhachi with its honkyoku pieces served as an instrument of enlightenment for komuso
priests, at least for those who had a sincere religious purpose in mind, and in the Fuke sect
there were rules against teaching secular tunes on the shakuhachi or permitting commoners
to play it (though these restrictions were often flaunted). The members of the Sufi order
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were also told to avoid secular tunes, and were not allowed to use instruments other than
the ney flute and def and kudim drums for the whirling ceremony. (Sadie, ed., vol. 12, p. 603).
Under government support, and also the Shogunate's watchful eye on the activities of
komuso -- one reason the Fuke sect was given official recognition by the authorities was so
that the Shogunate could keep tabs on potentially troublesome ronin -- the Fuke sect moved
its headquarters from Kyoto to Edo, the center of the shogun's government in Japan, and
the religious center of the the Fuke sect was established in the Ichigatsuji and Reihoji
temples outside the city, while the "business" center was based in the city, in Asakusa
(William P. Malm, 2000, p. 169). Also with government support, the Mevlevi dervish order
moved their focus to the Ottoman capital of Istanbul and began making a mystical art music
which had a notable influence on the elite in urban society, with even sultans becoming
proficient players of the the flute (Sadie, ed., vol. 18, p. 809).
Both sects eventually ran into trouble with the authorities. The Fuke Sect, ostensibly
because of corruption and probably because it was associated with the Shogunate, was
outlawed by the new Meiji government at the beginning of the Meiji Period (1868-1912).
Following the ban of the Fuke sect, the instrument became fully secularized and an official
member of the sankyoku (three instrument trio) with the koto and shamisen, playing the
gaikyoku ("outside music") pieces, though the komuso tradition of shakuhachi as hoki was
still passed down through a guild called the Meian ryu, based in Kyoto; the honkyoku pieces
were also being passed down through the Kinko ryu, named after the samurai Kurosawa
Kinko, though with Kinko the instrument itself was regarded as a gakki, or musical
instrument, and not as a religious tool. As mentioned earlier, the Tozan ryu, which
developed in the latter 19th century, was the first main shakuhachi school to alter
shakuhachi music and performance methods due to the influence of Western musical forms
which had entered Japan in the 19 1h century.
The Mevlevi sect, along with other Sufi orders, was outlawed in 1925 by the new
government of Turkey created under Kemal Ataturk, seven years after the collapse of the
old order, the Ottoman Empire, The Mevlevi whirling ceremony is still officially outlawed in
Turkey today, but continues to be practiced in private.
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12 The Shakuhachi and the Ney: A Comparison of Two Flutes from the Far Reaches of Asia
Ultimate origins
It is interesting to speculate as to whether it is possible that the ney could have made
the journey across Central Asia to China and then to Japan, becoming the Japanese
shakuhachi. According to Stephan Blum, "Five of the ten court orchestras of the T'ang
dynasty (618-907) bore the names of Central Asian oases and city states. -Turfan, Kucha,
Kashgar, Samarkand, and Bukhara." (Sadie, ed., vol. 5, p. 369). Today the ney is found from
North Africa to Iran and the Caucasus, and it is not unthinkable that it could have been
carried across Central Asia to end up being an instrument at the Chinese court. Current
scholarship traces the origin of the shakuhachi back to a notched Chinese flute called the
chiba. Shakuhachi is the Japanese pronunciation of the Chinese ideograms for chiba, where
chi is equivalent to shaku, and ba to hachi. (Sadie, ed.,, volume 12, p. 832). It is not
impossible that the chiba could have been the modification of a ney that had been carried
across Central Asia by travelers journeying the Silk Road.
Flutes similar to the ney are pictorially represented in Egyptian tombs from the time of
the Old Kingdom (c 2575-2134 BCE), where the players depicted were mostly male, though
women are at times depicted playing harps (Sadie, ed., volume 6, p. 2). By the time of the
Middle Kingdom (c2040-1640 BCE) women are represented more frequently in wall
paintings of chamber groups. In tombs from the New Kingdom (1550-1070 BCE) chamber
music groups are represented, playing a lute, a lyre, and a pipe of an oboe type, perhaps the
original sankyoku (three instrument) ensemble. Surviving end-blown flutes date back to the
Egyptian Middle Kingdom (c. 2040-1640), with the number of playing holes ranging from 4-6,
though recently even older vertical flutes have been discovered, with the oldest playable
instrument discovered so far being a 9,000 year old flute carved from the wing bone of a
crane, having been found in the village of Jiahu, along the Yellow River in China (Juzhong
Zhang, 1999, p. 366). Both ney and shakuhachi continue to evolve, with some players of both
flutes using the instruments more frequently in modern compositions and genres in addition
to preserving the traditional repertoires.
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Nay
Bibliography
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