Japanese Instruments Pt. I: The Koto

This post will be the first in a small, three-part mini-series talking about my experiences learning the basics of Japanese instruments. During the course of our summer program in Iida in the heart of the Nagano Prefecture of Japan, we were afforded the opportunity to deepen our cultural understanding of Japan through music. This involved taking lessons in a variety of Japanese instruments, namely the koto, taiko drums and yokobue, the Japanese flute. This first post will talk about my favorite instrument, the koto. (Below: A Japanese koto. Photo by Smgregory)

The koto is a long, stringed musical instrument generally close to 6 feet in length and made of a specialized wood, called kiri wood. This comes from a specialized tree traditionally reserved for ornamental purposes. The wood is lightweight and very delicate. We always had to take the utmost care in handling the koto during practice and our later performance. It is also the national instrument of Japan.

String pitch is achieved as a result of careful adjustment of bridges for each string. The koto is played in a seated position at a slight angle to the koto. The player
plucks the strings using three finger picks on the thumb, index finger and middle finger. The picks, like the bridges, are traditionally made of ivory in the nicer, more expensive kotos, but we used a white plastic version as a substitute. Customarily, the player will be seated in seiza while playing, but as I mentioned in an earlier post, my knees are not suited for seiza. Luckily this isn't uncommon occurrence and there were stands to elevate the koto so that we could play it while seated normally.

Having no experience with music outside of the recorder in elementary school, I initially didn't have an interest in learning any instruments. However, I decided a new country meant new things, so I tried to take advantage of every opportunity we had for cultural enrichment. Our koto lessons started during our second week in Iida with Genda-sensei, one of the host mothers for our summer program who also happened to be quite the accomplished koto player. Indeed, on the few occasions she did play for us, Genda-sensei really made the strings sing beautifully. It made you somewhat self-conscious as a beginner fumbling with the finger picks, as you could imagine.

As one could imagine, kotos are a rather expensive instrument and despite Genda-senseis collection of kotos and those allowed to us by the representatives from the city, we had a very limited number. Fortunately, there were only four of us who had signed up for koto; this included myself and fellow students, Dakota, Jordan and Peter. Although due to a variety of circumstances, by the end of the program, only Peter and I were able to hang on through the last lesson.

We would meet twice weekly, usually at the kouminkan, using an unoccupied room for our lessons. After an introduction to the koto and its various parts, we had to learn how to read the music. Here, I felt, I was actually better off not knowing how to read regular sheet music. I wasn't accustomed to any sort of sight reading for music, so nothing had been hard-wired as habit. This made it easier to learn a new system for the koto, including not only how to know which string to play. There were also different symbols for a rest and half-rest as well as a half- and full press, wherein the player changes the pitch of a string by applying varying degrees of pressure on the indicated strings.

After learning how to read the music, we slowly began learning some chords and the beginnings of a popular traditional music piece, "Sakura."Each lesson, which usually lasted a little more than an hour, we learned and practiced more of the song and even got into a second and third song by the end of our six weeks of lessons. Towards the end of our program, it was decided that Peter and I, accompanied by Genda-sensei, would be playing during the closing ceremony.

Needless to say that after only a few weeks of lessons, we weren't at a performance level. So when some of our other obligations came to a close, Peter and I would travel to Genda-sensei's home to get some additional practice. In the end, our hours of extra practice paid off and even though we hit a few stumbling blocks, I think we still sounded half-way decent during our closing banquet. (Below: Peter (left), Genda-sensei (right) and I gave a short performance during the closing banquet of our summer program. Photo courtesy of Kelly Washatka).

One of the biggest upsides to the koto is the pure, sweet sound it produces. Even as a beginner, when you make a mistake, it can still come out with a beautiful sound. The mantra I heard when it came to the koto was that it was relatively easy to be average, even with little to no training, due to its nature, but it is a significantly more difficult instrument to master to the extent someone like Genda-sensei had.

This isn't where my koto career would end, though. During the academic year at JCMU, every Friday we had a cultural project, each focusing on a different aspect of traditional Japanese culture. One such Friday was scheduled for koto lessons and because I already knew how to read the music, I was able to practice my skills, which had grown a bit rusty in between lessons.

Even now, nearly a year removed from my first journey in Japan, I still want to continue the koto, and I'm hoping I'll be able to own one of my own someday. Next week's post will focus on my second-favorite percussion instrument, behind the piano, taiko, also known as traditional Japanese drums.

Useful phrases in this week's post:

koto - こと - 琴

Meaning: 13-String Japanese Harp

yokobue - よこぶえ - 横笛

Meaning: Japanese flute