taiko

At a Japanese festival you are hearing several different drums at once. And the difference between them is decided long before anyone picks up a stick — by how the body was built and how the skin was fastened. The chodo-daiko, tacked down and therefore untunable forever; the shime-daiko, whose pitch is simply how hard you pull the rope; the okedo-daiko, light enough to carry because its body is staved like a bucket. Plus why a cow's back and a cow's belly do not sound the same, and three things to look for at your next festival.

After Obon ends, western Japan keeps one more Obon in reserve. Around August 23rd and 24th, the children of a city block become the centre of Jizō-bon. The roadside stone figure is repainted and given a fresh bib, a strand of prayer beads two to three metres across is passed hand to hand, and sweets and a raffle follow. It is not a nationwide custom, and its origins are genuinely unknown — a gentle beginner's guide to the smallest Obon of the summer.

On the last evening of Obon, a fire is lit to see the returning ancestors on their way. It is called okuribi. The small fire at the front door, Kyoto's five mountains lit in sequence on the night of August 16th, Nara's Daimonji burning for the dead and for peace, and the lanterns and spirit boats sent out on water — a fire whose purpose is to go out, traced gently for those meeting it for the first time.

Have you ever felt sound not just as something you hear, but as something that resonates through your entire body?Taiko ...