~「うねり」の演奏を通じて「音の妙」を体感

 

林 幹さんと田川智文さんが取り組む「うねり」。世に太鼓プレーヤーはあまたおられるが、この「うねり」のように二人で両面から大太鼓をえんえんと1時間以上も打ち込む演奏はきわめて稀であり、まさに二人の「あ・うん」の呼吸の見事さの成せる技でありましょう。

 そこからはじき出されるのは、打ち込むほどに波打ち、うねりゆく革の音色。強烈な打撃が時間の経過とともに銀面のコラーゲン繊維をほぐし、複雑に絡み合って醸し出す響きのアンサンブル。そうした『音の妙』を、「うねり」の演奏を通じてぜひ体感してみてはいかがでしょうか。

浅野 昭利 一般財団法人 浅野太鼓文化研究所理事長

 

Experiencing the mysteries of sound through “uneri”
While there are countless Taiko players in the world, few attempt what Kan Hayashi and Tomofumi Tagawa perform with “uneri”, where two play both sides of the O-daiko continuously for a whole hour. This style of performance is both rare and only made possible because of the incredible chemistry between the two players.
The result is a billowing sound that increasingly surges and winds the longer the two play. The powerful blows loosen and entangle the fabrics of the space over time, creating a complex ensemble of sounds and echoes. “uneri” is a performance that lets you experience these mysteries of sound.

Akitoshi Asano / Chairman of Asano Taiko Culture Research Foundation

究極のアンサンブルでした。脳が揺れる。

石川智久 作曲家

 

The ultimate ensemble. My mind was shook.

Tomofumi Ishikawa / Composer

今も昔のままの地球が日々失われ

地球のことを人間は知った振りをし 手に入れる事ばかり 地球との約束も祈りも忘却の彼方

常に新しい物にのまれ 自らの寂静の知を忘れている

地球は生きていて 我々はたまたま手足口先で生きているだけだ

幼い頃聞いて以来 和太鼓の話も忘れかけていた  今では秋祭りに聞く程度でなかろうか?

叩いた瞬間に音になり、一切のごまかしが効かない

端的に打つだけの太鼓の儚くもズレをゆるさない真実を知らなかった

無限な可能性を持ちながらも太鼓も相手を選び その相手によっては音を閉ざしてしまう、恐ろしい楽器で これは古い武術に似ている

言葉にすると書いた者の意図が音を邪魔をするが 文字が生まれたのは、その時間をずっとその場にとどめて 置きたかったからだと読んだ事がある やはり言葉は大切であるように 言葉ものまえに音が存在している

打ち手によってその音は一変し意味さえも含みながら 二度と同じ音がない訳を知った

彼らの楽譜も教科書も入り込めない 自由でとらわれのない響きに包まれると

約束も決め事もないのにある未来で待っていた場にいきつく

聞いた者しかわかり得ない 彼らが自然に生んだ「無」の時間を行き来する訳だ

そこにはやはり いのちの介在を感じ 古い祈りの心地よさを憶いだす

これもきっと祈りで神事なのだ・・・・と

樹霊を秘めた巨木が数百年生き 牛の皮がはられ 木のバチにより始まる呼吸

始まりを「あ」 終わりは「ん」

二対の狛犬が 口を開き 口を閉じ その聖域を護り 宇宙の始まりと終わりを表現している

風や波にも なにかのきっかけが必要だったように うねりがうねりを呼ぶようだ

            

きっかけをはらんだ音を 林幹と田川智文は生む事ができる

誰もがだせる音ではない

つらい修行もあったろう

そんな時間を黙々と打ち込んだ

彼らの生きた道が日々反響し

聞いた者の胸の当たりに ぐっと残るものはいったいなんなのか?

聞いた者、立ち会った者が 押し黙ってしまう訳は何なのか?

幾度聞いても その答えは見えないだろうが

地球や海を人間が全て知れないように

二度と無い時間を呼吸し 人間は全てを手に入れる事など 出来なくていいのだと笑う

哲学者で武術者の二人 どんな打ち方で我々を魅了し続けるのか?

彼らの仕業 少し先の音連れを待つとしよう

杏橋幹彦 / 写真家

 

Losing the remnants of an unchanged earth, day by day
People pretend they know about the earth, and continue to acquire. Promises and prayers have fallen into oblivion.
We are always engulfed by the excitement of the new, and have forgotten the knowledge of our own tranquility.
The earth is alive, and we just happen to be living on the edges of her.
Since I listened to it in my childhood, even I had almost forgotten about Taiko. I would hear it at autumn festivals, but those rare occasions were my only connections with the instrument.
Striking a Taiko produces a sound that is immediate, not allowing for any trickery.
Up to this point, I did not realize the ephemeral yet unforgiving nature of the Taiko.
While its possibilities are limitless, the Taiko can be a scary and stern instrument that chooses who it is played by, closing its sound depending on its opponent much like old martial arts.
As I put it into words, my perspective gets in the way of the sound that I experienced, but I’ve also heard that words were invented to create a method of keeping certain moments in place. While words are important because of this, sound preexists words.
The sound a Taiko produces changes depending on the player, creating meaning. I realized why no two sounds are the same.
As you envelop myself in the sound of their music, free and unrestrained from notation or textbook theory,
you find yourself in an unplanned, unforeseen place in the future that you had been waiting for, unknowingly.
The two create a time where everything becomes nothing, through which the audience travels.
Within that space lies a sense of life, and there I am reminded of the comfort of prayers.
This too is a prayer, and a ritual.
Taiko are made of trees that have lived for hundreds of years, over which cowhide is placed. As they are struck with wooden Bachi, it is as if the spirits of the trees start to breath.
Starting with “A”, and ending with “Un”
Two Komainu (guardian dogs), one with their mouth opened and one closed, protect the sanctuary, symbolizing the start and end of the universe
“uneri”, meaning “waves” in Japanese, is a catalyst. Much like how waves and winds require catalysts to be produced, “uneri” creates new “uneri” in others.

Kan Hayashi and Tomofumi Tagawa are able to produce a sound that triggers the start of new “uneri”
It is not a sound that anyone can produce.
They must have gone through hard training,
The two put in that time, silently striking the Taiko for many hours,
and as the paths of their lives are echoed in the music their produce,
what is it that is left in the hearts of the audience?
Why is it that everybody becomes silent as they listen to their sound?
That question may not be answered no matter how many times I ask,
but much like how us humans will never know everything about the planet or what lies beneath the seas,
I say that we do not need answers to all our questions, nor do we need to obtain everything we can. I instead decide to live the current time that I will never relive again.
The two may be called philosophers, or perhaps martial artists, but regardless,
I am left wondering how they will continue to enthrall us all in the future, eagerly waiting for whatever sounds they produce next.

Kyobashi Mikihiko / Photographer

「うねり」 純粋な打撃音に、色彩豊かなドラマ

が詰まっていることに感動し、 自分の中で色々な感情が沸き上がってくることにドキドキした。 林幹、田川智文 両氏にとって、この「うねり」は原点回帰であり、 お二人の生き様そのものなのかもしれない。だからこそ、嘘偽り のない純粋な音が打ち出されて、感動が生まれる。最高のステージ。

よしうらけんじ / パーカッショニスト

 

Within the pure sound of each impact, there lies a rich and colorful drama
I was moved by this, and was excited at the many different emotions that were stirred inside of me. For both Kan Hayashi and Tomofumi Tagawa, perhaps “uneri” is an opportunity to go back to their roots, and their way of life. It is perhaps because of this that a pure, genuine sound is produced, which is what makes their performance so moving. I cannot praise it enough.

Kenji Yoshiura / Percussionist