To Be (fixed) or not to Be

The shakuhachi like other traditional hand crafted instruments has its quirks. Or maybe one should say each culture has its uniqueness, and it appears the older forms of shakuhachi music preferred some notes to be more flat or sharp. This defies the current Western convention of equal temperament which society has accepted as the norm.

The design of this instrument allows great freedom due to its openness in the blowing edge with multiple degrees of freedom (up/down, left/right, yawing, pitching, rolling), providing fine control at microtonal level to the player. This is what makes it a difficult instrument to master as it means self mastery of the breath, embouchure, body and flute positioning, in addition to other aspects of music training.

I found Jon Kypros’ description about these pitch idiosyncrasies clear and helpful:
http://flutedojo.com/shakuhachi-guides/pitches-on-shakuhachi

For now my “antique” 玉井 竹仙 instrument will need a bit of DIY fix up (blue tac works wonders) advised by my teacher to bring it up to contemporary times. The higher pitched third hole (チ) note is lowered near to A4 frequency so that it is closer to equal temperament. I don't blame the seller for passing this flute to me, the "imperfection" created opportunity for me to learn more than I would have on a perfect instrument (is there such a thing anyway).

The First Sound

I advocate learning the shakuhachi at the onset with a teacher in person as it can greatly prevent unnecessary mistakes that if left unchecked becomes a deep rooted habit that impinges growth and development.

Learning the shakuhachi one can encounter a major paradox: it is both easy and difficult to produce a good sound.

It can be described as playing with ease because a relaxed mind-body produces clear, resonant notes. But the challenge is in the player because such relaxation is counter intuitive especially for a beginner.

In the beginner's mind it often becomes a struggle between the self and the instrument. There can be much striving to master the instrument via controlling the body. There is also the lack of patience especially in the current technogical age where the idea of instant gratification is lavished on us.

Bodily awareness requires mindfulness -- being mindful of sensations, movements, positions, and understanding how these are linked to sound production. Both interoception and proprioception are needed. Proprioception would include learning to be aware of lip tension, mouth cavity volume, finger contact position, and even vibrations of the flute. Interoception would include learning to be aware of abdominal breath activation, volume of breath, and internal rhythm. 

Awareness leads to fine adjustments that unlock the rich sounds of the shakuhachi. Such awareness does not come naturally, thus the need for hours of practice to build it up gradually, and for retention in body memory to take place.

This also means there can be no single standard set of steps to ensure one gets a first sound on the shakuhachi because each learner has unique anatomy, degrees of awareness, and ability to relax.

Initial guidance fortunately can still help the self-learner. They are like markers left by preceding travellers on their own learning path. We just need to try and use what works for us.

Here are some resources to get started. But the rest of the journey we have to figure it out on our own.


In English:
Jon Kypros
https://youtu.be/vsLZmSCr7r4

Shawn Renzoh Head
https://youtu.be/mQChlXy7kDM

Alcvin Ryūzen Ramos
https://youtu.be/HC_Yij3Nl0I

Perry Yung
https://youtu.be/in-Ifh-s7R8


In Mandarin:
Flying NaN
https://youtu.be/86j60SmSs8E

周文壕
https://youtu.be/Z9cLU6vST50
https://youtu.be/cW8a9rrqkUU

In Japanese:
Keisuke Zenyoji
https://youtu.be/LGhhQEWzzuI

三塚幸彦
https://youtu.be/Xp7nnaKQiqE

Intermediate/advanced (in Mandarin):
Winson Liao 廖錦棟
https://youtu.be/bzApkJ-HeXw
https://youtu.be/jTmtGUTYz7Y

Bamboo Grows in Marble

Shakuhachi flutes have a certain appeal as they are specially made with root ends from mature bamboo. The beauty of the smooth stem contrasts with the gnarly roots, reminding us that life manifests in similar fashion: happiness and suffering are not separate.

Bamboo's appearance is deceptive, looking like a tree but is actually a grass. In fact it is often viewed as an unwelcome weed because it is difficult to eliminate once it populates an area.

Harvesting it is a tedious manual task in the first stage of flute making. It would seem the plant lost its life, but at the hands of a craftsman it takes on a new life, transformed from a weed into a lively instrument. In the Edo period of ancient Japan it was regarded as a dharma instrument (法器, hoki) that helped monastics in their meditation practice. The humble bamboo continues beautifully in a new form, the shakuhachi (尺八) -- "death" does not bring an end. 

Beauty in Imperfections

The Shakuhachi (尺八) is elegant through its simplicity - 5 finger holes being sufficient to bring out the chromatic scale reaching up to 3 octaves.

It is interesting how the Japanese innovated on this by looking outside of the box. A typical wind instrument has precise finger holes to determine the pitch. To illustrate, a hole can be in two states, either opened or closed, and each state produces its own pitch so there are two notes available.

For the Shakuhachi, each finger hole has a wider diameter than say a Xiao or recorder. This means each hole can be partially covered or shaded to access the finer pitches in-between two discrete notes. This in itself is not unique as there are other flutes like the North American Flute (NAF) that have half-hole techniques.

For greater versatility, the Shakuhachi can be blown with variation in the angle between the blowing edge and the lips (embouchure). And this gives the performer another means to control pitch. Such pitch variations through head tilting plus instrument shifting is also used for vibrato effects.

For example, the note D is played by covering all holes (on a 1.8 Shakuhachi) while lifting finger off the first (lowest) hole plays F. The notes E and Eb (E flat) are "hidden" between D and F. Magically through partial fingering and angle adjustment, these notes shyly manifest.

These "half" sounds are usually softer in volume and differ in timbre from a fully opened/closed finger hole note. Such imperfections contribute to the distinct sound signagure of a Shakuhachi, enriching the palette available to an expert player to convey different moods and imagery.

There is an inherent "uncertainty" or variability to each note produced, therefore the same song can sound anew when repeated even by the same performer.

Dragon Leaping, Phoenix Prancing; Dong Xiao of the North, Shakuhachi of the South

龙腾凤舞；北有洞箫，南有尺八


Took a break yesterday from practising the Shakuhachi 尺八 so my Xiao 箫 won’t go rusty (rather to prevent mould).
Putting the two side by side shows the contrast in appearance 小巫见大巫. Actually they each have their own “powers”; one can’t say the dragon is more superior to the phoenix.

The two instruments have a common history but naturally developed into a kind of Yin and Yang 太极生两仪 after the Tang dynasty. The Shakuhachi is like the majestic dragon that bursts into mighty leaps and wreaks stormy weather. It can be a tough ride on such a beast, needing stability and strength. When it’s rested there’s still tension, a dormant energy 藏龙.

The Xiao is refined and elegant like the phoenix gliding through the clouds. Soothing and flowing sounds are deceptively simple - execution requires tempering the power of the breath. Patience and virtue seems to be the foundation. A certain Romanticism surrounds this instrument with tales of love match made through music and ascensions into the heavens 吹箫引凤.

The Shakuhachi frees the spirit and the Xiao calms the senses, at least that’s my perception. Just like how Yin and Yang are interdependent, the dragon can have phoenix like qualities and vice versa.

Shakuhachi and Xiao duet:

On practical experience, the Shakuhachi having a wider bore does require a firm breath before a good tone is produced, whereas on the Xiao one may get away with it for a while before it becomes an obvious problem. Both instruments are driven by abdominal/diaphragmatic breathing coupled with lower dantian 下丹田 control. The lungs are secondary in support. Switching back to the Xiao was an unusual feeling (beyond adapting the embouchure) as I had to adopt a more restrained 内敛 approach so as not to overpower the instrument.

Technical notes: the Shakuhachi 尺八 referred to here is the traditional Japanese 5 holed bamboo instrument with a slanted cut at one end for blowing. There are actually variants of this in Chinese culture referring to the Southern Xiao 南箫 as 尺八 also. And to add confusion there are 6 and 8 holed Xiao using the same style of blowing edge as Shakuhachi. One way to look at an instrument is not to decouple it from its culture and history: the Shakuhachi includes the approach and nuances of playing, its notation system, it’s link to Zen practice, its relationships to other instruments such as koto, and the craftsmanship of making it.

Mantra 2: It's not the instrument (it's insufficient practice)

Perhaps it is human nature that when things go wrong we easily externalize and blame everything else. It could be a way of survival, being self-centred, or reflecting a need to feel in control.

In my encounter with my new shakuhachi (or it could be anything new in life such as a person) there was that bit of doubt: is this tuned correctly, does it have some flaw, would a more expensive piece be better. Fortunately in the case of an instrument, the teacher can use his experience to clear such doubts, and the student has to honestly face his own shortcomings and practise more!

This creates spaciousness and clarity for the student to grow with the instrument. There is confidence that comes from the solidity of a teacher. Herein lies a parallel with therapy where clients similarly benefit from the solidity of a counsellor who does not waver in the face of confusion, chaos, uncertainty.       

Another challenge is self awareness and in the shakuhachi (or any music) it's about the pitch, volume, and tempo while playing the instrument.

I had assumed that I was sustaining a regular tempo while practising. not realizing that I often slow down as a piece progressed. I suppose our mind plays tricks on us when there is some distraction that may come from fatigue/stress. Sometimes it could be due to our emotional shifts that affect the pace.

In the end, I needed to invite an old "teacher" to resume work: the Nikko mechanical metronome. It was bought eons ago when I learnt the classical guitar and languished when I suffered a finger injury which led to the "break-up" with guitar. There's something assuring about this simple mechanical tool in comparison to the modern electronic version. It has greater presence that cuts above my own playing compared to a beeping/blinking version. Like a Jedi master, my teacher guided me back to the "ancient" ways of metronome practice.

Mantra 1: Use the (full) Force

I had to get reacquainted with this approach of practising for rim-blown wind instruments that somehow I had overlooked. It's more likely that I had gotten complacent or "lazy" and had been putting attention on the pitch quality rather than getting a full bodied sound.

There is now greater clarity why practising with full force is helpful (other than breaking a sweat). This is the means to explore the periphery of the instrument's limits, for example, when does a note break and cross into overtones. That threshold is also the point where the sound can be full bodied with greatest resonance. And there's a certain logic that when one can use full force then tuning it down poses less of a problem, which then avails us a more dynamic range to portray a piece of music.

This video of shinobue master Yasukazu Kano (2018 Traditional Flute Festival) helps illustrate what I mean. It is rather liberating when the breath feels unrestricted.



Thus it is very fortunate to have a teacher to point out blind spots such as these. The shortcoming of self learning is that we tend to swing one of both ways: either be too self critical and give up, or too contented and remain stagnant. Of course, such outcomes are not "wrong" as long as we can accept it. So I guess my yearning helped drive me forward.

The new year was a tough period of experiencing another seasonal flu onslaught. Flu can be frustrating because it affects the breathing system and introduces aches that bring lethargy.

It can also be a fruitful experience of persisting with shakuhachi training. And this brings another lesson: how we can still practise but not having to be perfectionistic about the sound quality. This aspect probably highlights one of my weaknesses, the tendency to seek perfection.

It can be quite paradoxical but it works: continue to practise with full force and disregard the slight variations in quality. After a period of time the tone will improve. Looking back, I tended to compromise by blowing with less force, that is, playing it too safe/conservatively.