From practice to ... perfect?

～次郎の会～ April 22, 2012

I just realized today as I was planning this blog entry at work that I have not been updating much about my work life or the things I do in this country pertaining to my actual job (which was honestly the initial purpose for this blog) and I will make it more of a priority to do so... as soon as I tell you about Sunday.

Me dancing... many years ago

So April 22, 2012 has been a set date on my calendar from as far back as October of last year. The reason being because my dance teacher had finally decided I knew enough basics to perform in the annual recital hosted by her teacher (who is 86 years old, mind you). In the months, weeks and days leading up to the performance there were not too many events of note but I am going to lead you through the process as it went for me because, having never been any kind of performer in my life (besides playing cello decently in orchestra and a rock band - which might be a bit closer of a comparison), it was a real treat.

I have been studying nihon buyo (traditional Japanese dance) since January-ish of 2011. But my experience with this form of dance actually began during my home stay in 2006 when I was still a high school student. While I was living in Sendai, another host family invited me to join their host daughter for a weekly dance session during our stay in town. This amounted to six sessions all in all, and one -mini- performance at our sayonara-party. It was impromptu and scary as far as I can remember but it didn't make much of an impression on me.

The stage during rehearsal

During college, and returning to Florida, it proved impossible for me to continue studying this kind of dance and I didn't really have much interest in other forms (besides the less organized club dancing my college roomies and I were known to be fluent in). A few times during my reign as Japanese club president I was able to put on little dance events where, with the help of a Japanese/American friend's mom, I was able to teach some other members basic moves.

Basically, all of this led to a dormant interest in something that I knew I would try hard to continue once I took up residence in Japan sometime in the future. Once I got here it proved to be a greater challenge than I anticipated. I found plenty of teachers but most of them rejected me claiming I was too tall. (I am 5'4" or 164cm). It took me about 6 months into my stint to finally find a teacher and once I got started learning it was all I could do to leave after class every week. I wanted to learn everything!

Months passed and then almost one year when, as I mentioned, my teacher (sensei) determined I was ready to perform. When she made the decision it was still many months from the date but unlike all the other concerts I had been in (and I only have orchestra and the rock band to compare this to - where the whole group is on the stage together, even when you have a solo) I would be doing my dance as a duo. There would be no one else on stage with us.

By January, she and her teacher had selected a song. I found out quickly that song selection itself was quite the hassle because no one can perform the same song and there is a limited selection of songs in the amateur repertoire to select from. I assume there are typically not so many amateurs in the group? Anyway, once she had selected the song I began learning it earnestly. Up until that point I would learn one or two or even three dances at once to get down certain movements and techniques rather than learn each dance perfectly. This changed with momiji no hashi (The bridge of autumn leaves) which was the song I would perform. Every week I came to my lesson (which is private) to an eager teacher ready to teach me another portion of the song, and once I had learned every step, how to perfect it for a crowd. This was actually the hardest part for me. I had always been dancing for myself so it was difficult to wrap my head around the fact that I would have to remember the other people watching and most especially - to turn my head and eyes and body, in their direction constantly. There were a few bumps along the way, particularly when about a month before the performance sensei changed my music and some vital dance steps. Oh and 2 weeks before the dance she told me I would be dancing alone. Yeah, that was quite the bump in the road. While I refrained from freaking out completely, I consoled myself by just completely ignoring the upcoming event at every opportunity. Well, besides practicing.

A week before the dance, on Saturday morning, I had my first ever dress rehearsal. I mean first... ever. My sister was always the thespian. It was scary and a little rough around the edges when I stepped onto the stage the first time. It seemed giant and even though there were only a few scattered people standing about, with very few of them paying me any attention, I was sweating bullets from nervousness. Guess I have stage fright. I made a few mistakes and tumbled out apologies to my sensei while trying to gather the courage to make another attempt. She just laughed and said it was completely fine, while assuring me this is what rehearsals are for. I had promised myself I would not act like a child during rehearsal by asking her to sit on the stage with me and guide me through the moves - and I am proud to say I managed that much. But it took a lot to manage even that.

After that, the week flew by. I had my final dance practice on Tuesday before the Sunday performance and it went fine. Very small touch-ups, like reminding me to keep my head up, butt tucked in, and hands at the correct level. Actually nihon buyo is very technical since there is not a lot of movement, so every step must be very precise with strong control over your body and muscles. I found out quickly on Sunday just how difficult that can be when your legs are quivering from nervousness but we will get there.

On to Saturday night. I had no plans in the evening and rather than continue to stress myself out about the upcoming recital, I decided to go visit my friends B and J in the nearby town. It had been a while since I had managed to get myself out there since we had all been so busy recently, so sitting down to dinner together with wine and a movie was really a nice change of pace. Well, until the gale force winds swept by all night... But that is completely unrelated to my performance. Out of nervousness, I woke up around 5 and couldn't get back to sleep so I played some phone games and tried not to wake up my friends. We all got up and moving around 7:30 and after a small breakfast and shower, I headed out to sensei's house to get ready. The wind had not slowed down and neither had the rain so I honestly felt like I was driving through a hurricane which did help to distract me from the slight cramping in my gut and the sweaty palms.

Sensei was all ready to go when I got there so we loaded up the car and got on our way without further adieu. Once we arrived at the community center we were lucky enough to get a parking spot out front and unloaded to a very ...empty... hall. Turns out we were the second ones to get there, next to my sensei's sensei. But that did not stop anyone from getting on the way to prep time.

Now, I don't know what recitals of this kind are like back in America, but this was all very strange for me. See, as a performer, I was expected to pay a certain amount of money in order to be able to participate. This is pretty common in Japan where people always put out a lot of money for their hobbies - even when they become professional level (in fact it only gets more expensive from there). So I kind of thought there would be backstage crew and the like to help organize everyone and get things set up. Well... that is what I had always heard happens at these bigger events. Turns out this event was like most things in Japan that I had come to experience. People just kind of knew where they were supposed to be and when, what was expected of them and were otherwise free to do as they pleased. Everyone managed to get everything done without any seeming guidance over the process as a whole.

Luckily, my time in Japan has prepared me to approach everything with very open ears and eyes because people often forget I have no idea what I am doing. That being said, the event proceeded something like this... *cue the movie style cut scene*

Once we unpacked the car I was baffled by the way people moved about seemingly connected by an invisible string to a list of tasks that needed completed. Sensei led me behind the stage to the dressing room and explained that there was the room for everyone, then the room for her sensei set off to the side so people could come in and give her gifts and the like. When we arrived the audience floor had been completely empty, along with the stage, but when we went back out, the cushions had been placed on the floor and the shamisen area had been created on the stage. I found out this had not been done by the staff of the center (those people had been prepping the sound equipment and lighting) but rather by the performers and their, as I like to call them, support teams (parents, friends, teachers, etc.). Each performer, or group of performers, had a small group of people who came with them to help get their kimono prepared, make-up on, save an area for their guests and numerous other things I had not even thought of. My support team was my fellow dance student's mother and grandma (I call my fellow student imoto senpai [meaning roughly senior little sister] when I don't use her name because she is actually one of my students at elementary school but has been doing dance longer - complicated relationship).

K-chan (imoto senpai) pulled me away from the stage long enough to get us backstage again. They told me we should do our make-up and hair now before the other performers started to arrive since the mirror space would quickly become limited, so I started putting layer upon layer of creams and colors on my face hoping it would resemble the stage make-up I had seen applied on the internet (yeah I researched stage make-up on youtube). The end result was not too shabby and since my sensei's daughter would be doing my hair later in the afternoon, I was finished up relatively early. Having volunteered the previous day to do up K-chan's hair, I got to work on pulling this poor 9-year old girl's hair into some semblance of cute braids so we could clip in apprentice geisha accessories and hair-spray the crap out of her head. By then other people had started to arrive and so K-chan got into her kimono since she wanted to get in one last on stage rehearsal before she lost the stage to the more experience dancers. This is where the individualism of the whole thing started to hit me. People were mingling about everywhere - dancers, support teams, audience, half dressed shamisen players, and stage assistants all with their own personal agenda and time frame - but magically not getting in anyone else's way. K-chan did her rehearsal to limited fanfare, since as I mentioned everyone was focused on getting their laundry list completed, and then we were released to our own devices while sensei focused on getting her supplies in order.

Lunch was a bento box which had been delivered for all of the performers and it was a very informal affair with people coming to the area, grabbing their box and then eating whenever and where ever they felt. I was beginning to get concerned about where my friends would be able to sit once they arrived so I started asking around about saving a place for the "foreigners" who would begin to trickle in shortly after lunch time. K-chan's mom took care of saving them a place where they could 'stretch out their legs' (as they had requested I try and get for them) and they even went so far as to inform the stage staff and entrance team (other dancers who were unable to perform in this event for one reason or another and were thus in charge of distributing programs and handling receiving gifts for the performers) of my guests. It was actually turned into such a big deal that they made a special place in the announcement later about how happy they were to have such a broad, International audience at the event. But that is Japan for you.


I had no appetite and was starting to get lost in the midst of everything that was happening around me (comes with not being connected to the invisible cord list I guess) so I started following sensei like a lost puppy. She didn't know what to do with me and I finally confessed I wanted to get one onstage practice in before lunch was over. She kindly dressed me in my kimono and led me to the stage, where the curtain had been set in place so no one could see the last minute prep going on onstage. Sensei got them to turn on the music and sat with me while I ran through the routine. I messed up a few times in places I have never messed up in before, sensei laughed and gently asked me to try again from the top, correcting a few last minute poses and trying to soothe my quickly fraying nerves.

We grabbed our lunch and went to meet her daughter, another of my senpai's and K-chan so we could all eat lunch together. My stomach was completely tangled up and I couldn't really get anything down so I mostly sat, twiddling my thumbs, while everyone around me carried out empty conversation trying not to think about their own fears. Once lunch finished it was almost 1 o'clock (the scheduled start time of the show), so I went back stage to wait for my friend M to come and do my hair. Now comes the part of the day where I got really confused/amazed/lost. Haha. The show started right at one, but I didn't get to see much of it. It took about 30mins just to get my hair done up. M had researched on the internet how to style my hair like a maiko (apprentice geisha) so we sprayed and pinned it until my life-less, thin brown hair turned into a voluminous, red-accented masterpiece. She really did an excellent job. During this time, various performances were under way and, having no idea what time I was suppose to go on, I made my way out to the area where my friends were supposed to be sitting.

Time was something I was really confused about the whole day actually. People had been asking since I started talking about this event, 'what time will you be performing' and no matter how many times I asked sensei the answer was always, 'when it is your turn.' I am not normally the kind of person to run on a strict timetable but I kind of expected, apparently my friends did as well, that there would some kind of time outline for when people should be ready to go on. There was nothing of the sort. You prepared to go on when you felt like it was the right time and lined up at the place where you enter the stage (each person was different) once the person before you had gone out to perform. I watched other people for this information, because no one told me, and gradually became aware of the timing of events and who the people performing before me were. K-chan would go on three people before me and my teacher would come on about three people after me. I planned with my teacher to meet her at a designated place backstage once K-chan had finished her dance and she was there to help me breathe while she set me up backstage to prepare to go on. I was shaking by then and sweating bullets but I tried really hard to man up when I saw that she was shaking too. As was just about everyone backstage - even the people who had finished! She held my hands while we waited for the person before me to get set-up then left me to find her own seat. I had about 3 minutes to myself trying to calm my nerves but it felt like 3 seconds. I tried doing a few of the less rehearsed moves to myself behind the curtain and a few of the other dancers (all of whom are senior to me and know my dance by heart) looked on and gave me last minute pointers in an attempt to calm me down.

I never actually saw this until now...
my bow was cool!

Once the woman in front me finished and exited the stage, it was time. But as I lined up in my place and tried to still my knees someone tapped me on the shoulder and told me there was going to be a speech before I performed. I can honestly say I did not listen to anything he said because the pounding of my own heart was too loud, but I found out later he did the normal Japanese bit - thanking everyone for their patience and hospitality while honoring us by observing our humble dances - then added a lengthy bit about how happy he was to have foreigners in the audience, not just supporting me (the foreigner who would be performing following his speech) but also observing and honoring the other performers. Thankfully I didn't pay any attention to this because I think I would have just died of embarrassment.. As it was it was all I could do to stop the completely unbidden tears from falling down my face. I have never in my life felt anything like that. It was horrible. And once the music started I thought I might get into a zone - but then the music stopped unexpectedly. Not knowing what to do, I hurried backstage and waited until it began again. Thankfully everyone laughed (they told me later I looked really endearing skittering away in my kimono) but once they got the problem sorted out and started the music again seconds later, I wasn't feeling any better.


I just pushed myself through it, feeling the whole time like all I had to do was look up above the people and perhaps they would disappear. I got about halfway through the routine before my knees finally stopped knocking together and pulled through the whole thing without any major mistakes. I am sure sensei will tell me today I was late in one section and moved too quickly through another (something I had no choice but to ignore once I messed them up for fear of continuing to make mistakes), but I don't feel terrible about my performance.

Smashing cultural boundaries with a smile!

The rest of the show comes as a blur now. It took me about an hour to get control of my body and mind again while my body slowly cycled through the endorphins it had been forcing my adrenal glands to produce. I sat with my friends, watching a few other people perform and receiving congratulations as was expected of me. I gave my share of compliments as well, and once all the performances had been finished we all gathered backstage - apparently led by that same imaginary string we had been connected by the whole time since miraculously everyone was there without anyone having been told - to give one final bow. We sat in a line, the curtain went up and there was a final speech and a lot of clapping. It was pretty cool because by then I was really feeling myself again and even in good enough spirits to have a secret tickle fight with the adorable 10 year old sitting next to me.

The adorable children

People began to clear out after that with people going so far as to put away their own cushions, sweep the stage and carry around garbage bags to grab anything people had missed. I got everything into my car, took a ton of pictures, and headed home. Pretty uneventful way to end a crazy day full of new experiences. Here is a link to the video if you feel inclined to watch it, and I added a bunch of pictures to this entry so you can enjoy them at your leisure.

Flowers and gifts... for me?!?!

I want to say thank you to everyone for being wonderful for me. Most of the people who helped me the most, like sensei, are never going to read this, but I really would have failed miserably without her, and everyone else's kindness. I feel really lucky to have been able to have an experience like this and I will practice hard for next year so I can hopefully do it one last time before I end my time here. I also put up a picture of some of the stuff people gave me. I am so grateful and a little astounded at the kindness shown to me, some of which was presented materially by people I hardly knew, and thank you all again. Love.

More pics and video:

Japanese Dance 日本舞踊

Thanks friends!

My favorite action shot!