There were moments when the National Palace of Culture a fine example of imposing Soviet-era monolithic structures seemed on the verge of giving in (strange squeaking accompanied the sound of a massive drum) on Saturday June 23, when the world-famous Japanese band Yamato had a packed Hall 1 enthralled in their two-hour performance, called “Shin-on” (Heartbeat).
Exuberant, boisterous and frenetic are the words that come to mind when trying to describe the 11 performers who played drums ranging from the size of a dinner plate to a 800-pound, six-foot-in-diameter Odaiko drum made from a 400-year-old tree. What they did was more than a demonstration of exceptional musical skill and talent. Aiming higher than being just a “drumming group”, Yamato blends theatre, martial and musical arts into a tightly synchronised performance and expressive solos, all with a comic touch. Ripples of chuckles repeatedly gave way to waves of applause throughout the performance. And then, the enthusiastic, chaotic applause started taking shape, when Yamato integrated a seldom-used instrument, the audience, by engaging listeners to become part of the performance. The audience clapped out rhythms and mimicked sounds, an element that made the performance unique and special and drew the listener to become part of the music, not an outside admirer. Say what you will, but having an interactive performance in a hall with 4000 seats upholstered in red plush is no dismissible feat.
The sheer physicality of the performance was captivating. Yamato members played with their entire bodies - taut, sweaty, agile conduits of music, whose quickness, co-ordination and expressiveness was of almost cartoon-like perfection. For those seated on the second balcony with journalistic accreditation, it was a relief not to rely entirely on facial expressions indiscernible from that distance. Even from faraway, there was plenty for the eye to admire. The lighting design, to begin with. Just like the music, it gradated from minimal to fancy and back, in an aesthetic that remained decidedly Japanese in the way, say, Tokyo Plastic (www.tokyoplastic.com, interactive design maniacs would know) is. It was thought-out, but did not go overboard. That was true for all matter of stage design; in general, there was little to distract: the performers wore all black for the first part of the concert and all red for the second. The set was unobtrusive, a subtle backdrop for the instruments and musicians playing them.
At the end, this statement, coming from the troupe, captures it all: “Yamato’s drummers must first find the ‘heart tone’ of the sound.
We try to expose the very heart of life, which is beating inside our bodies and is the origin of performance energy. It is the heartbeat of a lonely runner, beating hard in his smooth flesh, and the embodiment of the soul that strongly supports it. You can’t see it with your eyes, or touch with your hands, but it exists beyond a doubt. Our intensive training helps us make this heartbeat reverberate the world over, sometimes with gentleness, sometimes with overpowering force. For the drummers of Yamato, it is a celebration of the sound inherited by humankind at the beginning of time.”
Though my astonishment remains unswayed, I must say a few people sneaked out in the two encores. The man seating near me mumbled on his way out something about the noise being too much to bear. Still, much more arduous was that getting out. The show started right on time, a punctuality to be expected if one adopts the mostly-true stereotype of Japanese clockwork organisation.
No latecomers were admitted for the first seven minutes of the show, the exact duration of two pieces and the only time accredited photographers were allotted to press their shutters. In the meantime, just outside the doors, anxious ticket-holders and press pass flashers pressed their ears to the wooden doors and, despite being late, grumbled about poor planning on behalf of the organisers, for different types of attendees had to use a different door (on the first floor to the left for accredited photographers, to the right for ticket holders, fourth floor for journalists, etc.) which resulted in groups of people scurrying left and right and up and down in a state of confusion. “People here are just not used to being subjected to any rules whatsoever,” one of the women at the doors said, “while the Japanese have blown me away with the level of their organisation. It’s hard to reconcile those two styles.”
Yamato’s world travels began in 1998, when the group took part in the Edinburg Fringe Festival. In a terrific international debut, they performed to full houses and won the Spirit of Fringe Award. Since then, the troupe has done more than 1000 concerts around the world, including Europe, Brazil, China, Korea, Indonesia, Austria, England, Belgium and Germany.
Sofia was one stop in this year’s world tour, which takes the troupe through Europe from February through September and North America from October to December for a total of 2000 performances in 10 countries. It seems the drummers have taken their tour motto to heart - “If you call us, we will go.”
Yamato was founded by Masaki Ogawa in 1993 in Nara, the ancient capital of Japan and “the land of Yamato”. The name “Yamato” has special significance for this group: In the eighth century, Japan was known as Yamato, and Nara was the city where Japanese culture is believed to have started. Though Yamato art is rooted in traditional Japanese musical formats (combined with modern rhythms and themes), the inclusion of women in the group is a clear break with Japanese tradition.
For more information, and to read the troupe’s tour report, visit www.yamato.jp
