気持ちいい
You know how back in the fall Shakuhachi flautist Christopher Yohmei Blasdel guest lectured in my Japan Studies class? And you know how, since he was involved in the Asian arts community, I thought he might know about Indian artists as well? And you know how he did and gave me a name to follow up on?
Well now that I have so much less class time finally this term, I decided to follow up on it. I emailed Kubota Yukiyo Thursday afternoon, got a reply late that night, replied Friday hoping to sit in on her Friday class in Mitaka (I should have called instead), read her reply this morning, decided to go for it, called her after my shower, and then booked it all the way out to Ichikawa in Chiba-ken. That's East of Tokyo, a good hour away by train (plus a ~30 minute bike ride from my apartment to the station), and to make matters worse, there was some construction or something going on at Shinjuku, so every Chuo train was a local. I was so sure I would be late, but I somehow made it. (On top of that, I only had enough money to get there, not to get back, but I luckily ran into a classmate on the train into Shinjuku who very kindly empathized with my predicament and lent me 1000JPY.) When I arrived at Ichikawa Eki, my phone rang. Yukiyo-sensei (as the other students seem to call her) was waiting in a car for me. We drove to a community sports center not too far away. I only planned to watch. I don't even have a kurta in Japan with me, and I haven't danced (or done much of anything physical besides riding my bike and, lately, pushups and crunches) for a *while*... but she lent me a set (I don't know why she had such a big set on her, she's *much* smaller than me) and she had me jump right in from the beginning.
The first students there were beginners, so we started with just adavus: tat-tai-ta-ha, tai-ha-tai-hi, tai-ya-tai-hi, etc etc. It was really good for me, 'cause I've always been really bad about knowing my adavus properly, especially since I've focused on Kuchipudi for so long. And it's amazing how difficult the slow speeds were for me - I was anticipating too much, my muscles weren't as disciplined as they used to be. And jeez! I used to be able to sit in arai-mandi and keep my arms up for hours without a twitch! No more. ^_~ Oh but it felt great to be back at it. I expect to be sore tomorrow, and I look forward to it.
Brett asked why I wasn't looking into learning a Japanese dance form while in Japan. I'd thought about it in the past, but I guess I have a few reasons. First of all, I've been feeling like a real slob, so I wanted to do something strenuous. As far as I know, the most vigorous form of dance women do is folk dance, and I'm not *too* interested in learning that. Secondly, if I were to get into something serious, I'd only be able to spend a year and a half on it, and you can't get anywhere in that amount of time. But most importantly, as I've mentioned before, I feel like I have this tendency to pick something up and do it halfway and then drop it and move on. I don't want to do that with Classical Indian Dance. I really love it, it became a big part of me over the years, and I've always regretted the spotty condition my training is in (my adavus being a prime example), especially because I would like to be able to teach... or at least *feel* like I could teach. Plus I've always wanted to study with different teachers and observe their styles and methods, not only to know what's out there, but to develop my own style and, if I ever did teach, have lots of examples to draw on. And now, considering my previous post about my relationship with the Foundation, and in light of the class I sat in on today, dance being something I love, I want to be really comfortable in the environment and community that goes along with it, and somehow I suspect *I* wouldn't find that learning a classical form of Japanese dance.
Okay, so back to the class itself. Oh there's so much I could comment on, but how long do I really want this post to be?
Well, first, ways it was different from my other dance classes: I don't know how it is in Mitaka or Koenji, but at the sports center in Ichikawa anyway, there isn't an actual room for the class. There's *a* "room," but it's carpeted so not useful for dancing. The students change, stretch, and leave their stuff (except for their shoes) in there. Class actually takes place in a landing outside this room, and throughout the class people going up and down the stairs to other parts of the sports center walk right through us. As it was a big open space, and the other people using the sports center would talk as they passed us, and as it takes a lot of concentration for me to understand Japanese, I had a hard time hearing Sensei. Also, it's out here that we leave our shoes, which means that our shoes are basically in the dance space, which just seemed wrong.
Sensei also stressed stretching, which Rathna Auntie never did, which was probably very bad (and I believe Rathna Auntie's knees can attest to that). I think I was one of maybe two or three of Rathna Auntie's students who stretched, which is also likely why I was one of few classical dancers I've met who are actually somewhat flexible. Yukiyo Sensei's students also recite sloka and do some yoga with her. Yeah, I was way out of the loop there. Oh, and yes. All her other students are Japanese (though she said a few of them have Indian husbands, and I met more proof today that Japanese woman-Indian man matches make adorable children).
Other things I noticed: Yes, class was taught in Japanese (I hope this will be very useful for my speaking and listening), but there are some things in English that get thrown in all the time. I find it interesting. It's like how my parents' Assamese has deteriorated (no offense) to the point where they throw in a lot of English. But everyone in Japan does this. I mean, the reasons are completely different, but at what point is it not Japanese? Could it possibly become not-Japanese?
Dancing with the beginners was really cool. It made me nostalgic. Oh geez, remember when I had such a hard time coordinating feet, hands, head, neck, eyes? When my elbow stuck out at the wrong angle? When I was completely confounded by that step? When I felt like I was going to fall over any second? And then as the more senior students came in, watching the progressive improvements in posture and attack and attitude... Like going back and watching old videos of me, it makes/made me realize how far I've come, and how you don't notice it happening at all. Your body just learns to do it, you're suddenly in control, and it affects everything you do.
And then there was this point at which she was going over a sloka about Sri Rama with her students, and there was one in particular who was really having trouble putting the meaning and the movement together. So they stopped for a little while and Sensei really tried to explain to her how she needed to connect it all. She was like, "Just react naturally. He's a handsome, richly dressed prince. He's a hero. You're happy and filled with love and adoration to see him. And that has to show in your face." And then she paused for a minute. "Maybe in our society, we don't do that so much. See? Like that, like you're doing now," she said as the student tried to stifle her laughs. "But it's all connected, right? When you're surprised, your face changes. When you're happy, your face changes. React naturally, don't think about it." And I wondered if people raised in this culture *would* have a harder time in general learning to be really good at and, moreover, "okay with" saying everything with their faces. Because that's what this dance form is.
The atmosphere was very different from Rathna Auntie's classes of course - no moms gossiping and students goofing off during downtime - but it was also very different from all my other interactions with Japanese people, sensei especially. Part of it was probably that I was just so excited to be there, and that helped me relax and overcome some of my shyness. But I think a large part of it is just this art and the relationships that teachers and pupils form. It was like that with Rathna Auntie too. I always felt like, if I needed to, I could go to her with anything and she would treat me like a daughter. Coming home on the train with another student, I also got that impression about Yukiyo Sensei from her. She was saying how she needs to learn to be more grateful, that Sensei has done so many things for her. It made me glad I found this group, and it really made me miss Rathna Auntie and Anjali, though I know it's a completely different place by now.
That student, Mikako-san, and I, after talking about being grateful and not taking things for granted, then made the mistake of talking about Indian food. Sambar, idli, dosa, pitha, maas, luci... Oh man, was that a mistake. Our mouths were watering all the way home. ^_~
I left home at about 10:50, and I got home around 20:30, and I'm so glad I went. Even if I did miss a free lunch from the Foundation. Even if I did skip out on them after RSVP-ing. Even if I am plagued by guilt about that. (I hate that about me. Get over yourself already.) This was really so worth it. See? It's almost 1am now, and I'm still on a high.
Well now that I have so much less class time finally this term, I decided to follow up on it. I emailed Kubota Yukiyo Thursday afternoon, got a reply late that night, replied Friday hoping to sit in on her Friday class in Mitaka (I should have called instead), read her reply this morning, decided to go for it, called her after my shower, and then booked it all the way out to Ichikawa in Chiba-ken. That's East of Tokyo, a good hour away by train (plus a ~30 minute bike ride from my apartment to the station), and to make matters worse, there was some construction or something going on at Shinjuku, so every Chuo train was a local. I was so sure I would be late, but I somehow made it. (On top of that, I only had enough money to get there, not to get back, but I luckily ran into a classmate on the train into Shinjuku who very kindly empathized with my predicament and lent me 1000JPY.) When I arrived at Ichikawa Eki, my phone rang. Yukiyo-sensei (as the other students seem to call her) was waiting in a car for me. We drove to a community sports center not too far away. I only planned to watch. I don't even have a kurta in Japan with me, and I haven't danced (or done much of anything physical besides riding my bike and, lately, pushups and crunches) for a *while*... but she lent me a set (I don't know why she had such a big set on her, she's *much* smaller than me) and she had me jump right in from the beginning.
The first students there were beginners, so we started with just adavus: tat-tai-ta-ha, tai-ha-tai-hi, tai-ya-tai-hi, etc etc. It was really good for me, 'cause I've always been really bad about knowing my adavus properly, especially since I've focused on Kuchipudi for so long. And it's amazing how difficult the slow speeds were for me - I was anticipating too much, my muscles weren't as disciplined as they used to be. And jeez! I used to be able to sit in arai-mandi and keep my arms up for hours without a twitch! No more. ^_~ Oh but it felt great to be back at it. I expect to be sore tomorrow, and I look forward to it.
Brett asked why I wasn't looking into learning a Japanese dance form while in Japan. I'd thought about it in the past, but I guess I have a few reasons. First of all, I've been feeling like a real slob, so I wanted to do something strenuous. As far as I know, the most vigorous form of dance women do is folk dance, and I'm not *too* interested in learning that. Secondly, if I were to get into something serious, I'd only be able to spend a year and a half on it, and you can't get anywhere in that amount of time. But most importantly, as I've mentioned before, I feel like I have this tendency to pick something up and do it halfway and then drop it and move on. I don't want to do that with Classical Indian Dance. I really love it, it became a big part of me over the years, and I've always regretted the spotty condition my training is in (my adavus being a prime example), especially because I would like to be able to teach... or at least *feel* like I could teach. Plus I've always wanted to study with different teachers and observe their styles and methods, not only to know what's out there, but to develop my own style and, if I ever did teach, have lots of examples to draw on. And now, considering my previous post about my relationship with the Foundation, and in light of the class I sat in on today, dance being something I love, I want to be really comfortable in the environment and community that goes along with it, and somehow I suspect *I* wouldn't find that learning a classical form of Japanese dance.
Okay, so back to the class itself. Oh there's so much I could comment on, but how long do I really want this post to be?
Well, first, ways it was different from my other dance classes: I don't know how it is in Mitaka or Koenji, but at the sports center in Ichikawa anyway, there isn't an actual room for the class. There's *a* "room," but it's carpeted so not useful for dancing. The students change, stretch, and leave their stuff (except for their shoes) in there. Class actually takes place in a landing outside this room, and throughout the class people going up and down the stairs to other parts of the sports center walk right through us. As it was a big open space, and the other people using the sports center would talk as they passed us, and as it takes a lot of concentration for me to understand Japanese, I had a hard time hearing Sensei. Also, it's out here that we leave our shoes, which means that our shoes are basically in the dance space, which just seemed wrong.
Sensei also stressed stretching, which Rathna Auntie never did, which was probably very bad (and I believe Rathna Auntie's knees can attest to that). I think I was one of maybe two or three of Rathna Auntie's students who stretched, which is also likely why I was one of few classical dancers I've met who are actually somewhat flexible. Yukiyo Sensei's students also recite sloka and do some yoga with her. Yeah, I was way out of the loop there. Oh, and yes. All her other students are Japanese (though she said a few of them have Indian husbands, and I met more proof today that Japanese woman-Indian man matches make adorable children).
Other things I noticed: Yes, class was taught in Japanese (I hope this will be very useful for my speaking and listening), but there are some things in English that get thrown in all the time. I find it interesting. It's like how my parents' Assamese has deteriorated (no offense) to the point where they throw in a lot of English. But everyone in Japan does this. I mean, the reasons are completely different, but at what point is it not Japanese? Could it possibly become not-Japanese?
Dancing with the beginners was really cool. It made me nostalgic. Oh geez, remember when I had such a hard time coordinating feet, hands, head, neck, eyes? When my elbow stuck out at the wrong angle? When I was completely confounded by that step? When I felt like I was going to fall over any second? And then as the more senior students came in, watching the progressive improvements in posture and attack and attitude... Like going back and watching old videos of me, it makes/made me realize how far I've come, and how you don't notice it happening at all. Your body just learns to do it, you're suddenly in control, and it affects everything you do.
And then there was this point at which she was going over a sloka about Sri Rama with her students, and there was one in particular who was really having trouble putting the meaning and the movement together. So they stopped for a little while and Sensei really tried to explain to her how she needed to connect it all. She was like, "Just react naturally. He's a handsome, richly dressed prince. He's a hero. You're happy and filled with love and adoration to see him. And that has to show in your face." And then she paused for a minute. "Maybe in our society, we don't do that so much. See? Like that, like you're doing now," she said as the student tried to stifle her laughs. "But it's all connected, right? When you're surprised, your face changes. When you're happy, your face changes. React naturally, don't think about it." And I wondered if people raised in this culture *would* have a harder time in general learning to be really good at and, moreover, "okay with" saying everything with their faces. Because that's what this dance form is.
The atmosphere was very different from Rathna Auntie's classes of course - no moms gossiping and students goofing off during downtime - but it was also very different from all my other interactions with Japanese people, sensei especially. Part of it was probably that I was just so excited to be there, and that helped me relax and overcome some of my shyness. But I think a large part of it is just this art and the relationships that teachers and pupils form. It was like that with Rathna Auntie too. I always felt like, if I needed to, I could go to her with anything and she would treat me like a daughter. Coming home on the train with another student, I also got that impression about Yukiyo Sensei from her. She was saying how she needs to learn to be more grateful, that Sensei has done so many things for her. It made me glad I found this group, and it really made me miss Rathna Auntie and Anjali, though I know it's a completely different place by now.
That student, Mikako-san, and I, after talking about being grateful and not taking things for granted, then made the mistake of talking about Indian food. Sambar, idli, dosa, pitha, maas, luci... Oh man, was that a mistake. Our mouths were watering all the way home. ^_~
I left home at about 10:50, and I got home around 20:30, and I'm so glad I went. Even if I did miss a free lunch from the Foundation. Even if I did skip out on them after RSVP-ing. Even if I am plagued by guilt about that. (I hate that about me. Get over yourself already.) This was really so worth it. See? It's almost 1am now, and I'm still on a high.
posted by Bibhatsu at 11:55
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