Not long after Portland Taiko started back in 1994, the Japanese percussion music ensemble faced its coming of age moment. 

The group had started off by learning about the art form, including how to make their own drums, practicing traditional pieces, playing for each other and occasionally in public spaces. 

But now, the nascent organization was hosting a crack ensemble of professional taiko players from Okinawa, Zampa Ufujishi Daiko — and performing as the opening act in their concert. 

“We weren’t sure we could pull it off,” remembers PT co-founder Ann Ishimaru. “It was the first time we had ever done a full set. We were incredibly nervous. But inspired by this great Japanese group and this great opportunity, we did this first really big performance. It was a pivotal moment.”

The tour manager for that Okinawan professional ensemble was Tiffany Tamaribuchi, a Japanese-American master musician who had founded Sacramento Taiko Dan five years earlier. She wound up teaching workshops with Portland Taiko and, through years of teaching, touring, and working with other taiko ensembles, stayed engaged with the Portland group in various capacities ever since.

Now, as Portland Taiko commemorates its 30^th anniversary with a concert (unfortunately, sold out for weeks) this weekend at Portland State University, it also celebrates Tamaribuchi’s recent accession as the group’s first artistic director in years. Both the concert and the group’s artistic leader demonstrate how Portland Taiko has maintained continuity with its origins, and continually evolved to adapt to new opportunities and challenges. Portland Taiko is resolutely pounding its way into a forward-looking future — with big boosts from its past.

Emerging from Tradition

Although the taiko drums date back millennia, and were often used in religious and festival settings, taiko ensemble performance (kumi-daiko) as practiced in Japan and the West is a relatively recently-emerged art form. Created in Japan in the early 1950s by a master player who was also a jazz drummer. Naturally, he made improvisation, even on traditional tunes, a feature of taiko ensemble performance practice. That openness to contemporary and nontraditional influences has persisted, while remaining based in its original Japanese aesthetic. 

“As we’re creating new pieces, there’s some allowance for improvisation, adopting new instruments and traditions,” Tamaribuchi explains. Modern taiko “retains the core of where we came from, but also appeals to us contemporary individuals experiencing our beauty and challenges in the world today.” 

The first American ensembles emerged in the San Francisco Bay Area and then Los Angeles in the late 1960s, and hundreds more have sprung up around the world, says PT executive administrator Kelsey Furuta. Since that was also a time of emerging ethnic pride in various communities, from the civil rights movement to the Black Panthers to the Chicano movement to the struggle for ethnic studies on college campuses, “taiko became a voice for cultural pride” among Japanese Americans, Ishimaru explains. 

The taiko wave first reached Oregon with Eugene Taiko in 1989. When Ishimaru and her husband Zachary Semke moved to Portland a few years later, they discovered that their new home was one of the last major taiko-less West Coast cities, and set about remedying that lack. She had already started a taiko group at Stanford University, and both had studied with other pioneers of American taiko. The couple quickly connected with Japanese American community leaders and others who were doing informal taiko workshops and children’s programs around town. 

Those early efforts were much homelier than today’s precisely-rehearsed concerts of original music, wide array of drums, attractive matching uniforms and other professional signifiers. Ishimaru remembers playing in Irving Park with an orchestra of a single taiko drum and tires converted to drums. Unable to afford the expense of even shipping — much less buying — drums made in Japan (a single instrument could cost over $6,000 in 1994 dollars, she recalls), they learned how to make their own. Among the local Nisei (second generation Japanese-American) community, they found knowledge and tools for woodworking and drum making, gluing wine barrels together and stretching cowhide over them with hydraulic jacks normally used for elevating cars. They received crucial advice from other North American taiko artists.

“It very much grows out of the tradition of American taiko: Making do with what you’ve got, learn from other taiko groups and teachers,” Ishimaru says. The DIY attitude brought ancillary benefits. “Building drums together becomes a bonding experience and makes you familiar with the instruments in a very different way,” she explains. “In taiko, we talk about connecting your center with the drum, and there’s something profound about having built that drum with other people in the group and connecting your center with the drum and the other members.” The group continues to repair its older drums, but community support has enabled it to buy the high-end drums that only Japanese crafters can make. 

As with any band — and especially percussion ensembles — they also faced the question of where to store and practice with their instruments. “It’s loud,” Ishimaru points out. “We had to move a lot.” The Chinese Benevolent Association downtown provided an important early home for the group. 

After that consequential early concert with the Okinawan ensemble, Portland Taiko began playing more frequently at Japanese-American and other community events, which brought attention, more performance opportunities, new members.

Accessibility and Community 

For an art form so seemingly esoteric, taiko attracts a wide range of players, not all Japanese American, although of course it has special significance in that community, providing an opportunity for bonding. 

Tamaribuchi’s parents introduced her to taiko, the tea ceremony and other traditional arts when she was growing up near Sacramento’s Japantown, to make sure she stayed connected with her cultural traditions. 

Furuta grew up in a diverse Seattle neighborhood “around taiko kids who were all Japanese American like me.” She followed her sister, who was the designated flutist in a youth taiko group when she was growing up in Seattle. Even at ten years old, “I loved the drums, loved performing it, teaching it,” she remembers. “I couldn’t articulate at the time why, but it just felt good.” For a “super shy, quiet little Asian girl, I got to sound loud. Taiko gave me a voice.”

She continued studying and playing the music in Los Angeles and Honolulu (studying with renowned composer Kenny Endo) and joined Portland Taiko upon arrival here in 2009. She performed with the group until parental responsibilities took precedence over rehearsals, then took on administrative positions including instructor, performance coordinator, education coordinator and now executive administrator. “I just want to be near the drums,” she says. “When the opportunity came up to just work for the group, even if I can’t do the drumming myself, it’s still a dream to be around them.”

Japanese ancestry isn’t required to enjoy the power and pleasure of drumming, as the diverse coterie of kids and adults at PT educational classes and concert audiences attests. Everyone — not just kids — enjoys hitting things and making sounds. “Drums are innately fun,” Furuta explains. “It’s a special instrument that you can play with other drummers. Group drumming is different from playing in a band or taking piano lessons.”

Although advanced playing demands practice, skill and stamina, without the daunting technical demands of, say, learning to coax sweet sounds from a string instrument, taiko is an “accessible to a wider audience,” Furuta continues. “You can be older, younger, larger or smaller. You don’t have to learn read music. You can take a two-hour Taiko 101 workshop and be playing a simple tune.”

PT also offers more advanced classes for those who want to play more complex pieces. The group has drawn players with backgrounds (and chops) in Western percussion music, but most PT players aren’t trained musicians. Some have experience in school bands, but for others, it’s their first musical experience. And Tamaribuchi says many people who study taiko go on to explore other aspects of Japanese music and culture.

Forging a Distinctive Path

Semke and Ishimaru imprinted Portland Taiko with certain distinguishing characteristics. One is high performance standards. “Ann and Zack said, ‘We don’t play just for fun,” Furuta says. “I think groups for fun are fantastic, and everyone should have access to the music. But in Portland Taiko, it’s part of our mission that we expect a certain caliber of performance.”

That combination precision and power makes PT performances some of the most exhilarating artistic experiences I’ve had. Incorporating obsessively rehearsed, choreographed stage movement, they’re a visual as well as visceral treat. Those high standards allow the players — who’ve thoroughly internalized their individual parts — to focus on communicating to the audience, radiating a contagious joy.

PT early on made another crucial artistic choice: Ishimaru and Semke composed numerous original works for the group.

“It’s very special that Portland Taiko has a history of such composers,” Furuta says. “Ann and Zack didn’t spend time in Japan, but they immersed themselves in the history of the music and studied with many of the great masters. They were both string players, and so we have violin and viola in many of our pieces.” 

One current PT violinist, Keiko Araki, also plays in another loud and local big band, the Oregon Symphony. You might also hear flutes in a PT show, and musical structures that owe as much to non-Japanese influences as to traditional forms.

“The sheer musicality of those compositions stands out amongst other taiko groups,” says Tamaribuchi, who’s performed with many of the others around North America. “Some will add elements of violin or other Western instruments for a piece or two, but it’s not at the foundation of a group’s repertoire. [Semke and Ishimaru] were able to so beautifully and seamlessly integrate violin and taiko. Some of what they created is just epic.”

Portland Taiko still performs those original compositions, along with arrangements of traditional pieces and other originals. The prominence of its own music remains a mark of distinction that still distinguishes PT among its peers. 

Unlike some other classical or traditional groups that have become musical historical museums, Western or otherwise, Portland Taiko has always embraced contemporary influences and original music. They used to call such hybrids ‘fusion,’ (similar to the culinary trend that emerged around the same time), but as concepts such as cultural appropriation have risen to prominence over the past three decades, “the term ‘fusion’ is a little outdated,” Furuta says, as a descriptor of PT’s music. “We don’t want to be a melting pot. The art form came from Japan, but we’re not pretending to be Japanese taiko players. I’m not Japanese — I’m Japanese American. We’re focused on being who we are and playing the music respectfully. We’re creating our own Asian American musical experience.” 

Collaboration and Connection

In 2005, founding co-artistic directors Ishimaru and Semke left Portland for graduate school, and the group evolved. Michelle Fujii brought an emphasis on choreography and dance as artistic director before departing to form Unit Souzou in 2014. (Read my 2013 ArtsWatch story about Fujii and PT.) The late Portland arts eminence Michael Griggs steered the organization through the beginning of the millennium, and then Wynn Kiyama took over as executive director in 2015 “during a time of change and challenges,” according to PT’s website. Over seven years, he focused on operational development, including “a new base of operations, record-breaking fundraising campaigns, an influx of regional and state grants, six balanced budgets, strong reserve funds, the construction of a festival float, a gala 25th anniversary celebration, and the winning proposal for hosting the biennial North American Taiko Conference,” according to his retirement announcement. After guiding the organization through the pandemic shutdowns while continuing to create new works, he moved to Hawaii with his family in 2022, but remains on the advisory board. (Read my 2017 ArtsWatch story about Kiyama and PT.)

“Wynn is a hero for Portland Taiko,” his successor Furuta says. “He came in and saved the day, so we’re in a good space today.”

Kiyama also doubled down on the group’s history of collaboration, initiating projects with LA’s TaikoProject, Fear No Music, and Kalabharathi School of Dance, a film with Japanese American folk act No-No Boy, a joint concert with four Portland-based taiko groups. That long-established history of collaboration continues with recent shows with the University of Oregon taiko ensemble started by a former PT member. (Its name, Ahiru Daiko, means “ducks taiko.”) Other collaborators have included Subashini Ganesan, Obo Addy, Sivagami Vanka, Carla Mann, Mike Barber, and Minh Tran.

“We’re continuing to evolve,” says Ishimaru, who along with Semke has returned to the board after they moved to Seattle, where she is Associate Professor of Educational Leadership, Organizations & Policy at the University of Washington. “You never see the same show twice. We’re staying true to the power of the drum, but expanding our collaborations and connections.” 

Along with collaboration, originality, and artistic excellence, Portland Taiko prioritizes community. “What sets Portland Taiko apart is that we stay true to the mission,” Furuta says. “We are very mission driven. Everything we do is community-oriented around Asian American history and pride, including education. It determines what other groups we play with, which performances to take, what programs to do. They need to be aligned with our mission in some way.” The group frequently collaborates with the Japanese American Museum of Oregon and other Asian American organizations.

The mission extends to the players’ training and education. “If you’re going to play the music, you’re an ambassador for this young art form,” Furuta says. “You need to know where it came from, why it’s big, why it’s here. Taiko has such a rich history, and it’s important for us to know it, whether we’re Japanese American or non-Japanese American. We continue to tell these stories as we perform,” in program notes, from the stage, even in the compositions themselves, such as the long-running A Place Called Home. “It was created through a whole community process involving some of the experiences around the incarceration [of Japanese American citizens during World War II],” Ishimaru explains. “It asked, What does it mean to have a place called home? The mission was embedded in the music itself.”

 Firmly Grounded Future

Even though the anniversary concert — only its second full-scale indoor performance since the pandemic — sold out weeks ago, Furuta hopes it signals to PT’s fan base a kickoff of a new era for the group under Tamaribuchi’s artistic leadership.

“When I stepped into the group, people kept talking about the dark times — the pandemic, not being able to play and rehearse together, not having an artistic director,” Tamaribuchi says. “We’ve been stuck, not able to do much. So I decided, let’s bring things forward — a rebirth, not just a retrospective concert. Instead, let’s make it about where we were, and where we’re going.”

The anniversary concert’s name, Renaissance, reinforces the notion that PT’s future is grounded in its past — it’s not a birth, but a rebirth that looks back to its origins, just as the original Renaissance did. And not just to the art form’s seven-decade long Japanese ancestry, but also to PT’s own, now 30-year-old tradition. As the group’s first full time new artistic director in a decade — who nevertheless has roots in the organization’s origins — Tamaribuchi embraces the organization’s longstanding mission and its distinctive qualities. 

“I’m hoping to reground the performers in the breadth and depth of what taiko has to offer,” she says. North American taiko groups have had limited access to the art form’s Japanese epicenter, which Tamaribuchi became familiar with through touring performances in Japan in the 1990s and early 2000s. “I’m bringing a broad perspective to what is possible in taiko based on experiences that most American taiko drummers haven’t had,” she says. “I want to give people a richer and deeper understanding of the culture in ways they might not have experienced.” That includes leveraging her unique (for North America) connections to taiko artists from Japan to Australia for possible cooperative programming. She also hopes to find a new rehearsal and instrument storage home for the ensemble.

An explosively charismatic, award-winning performer who’s highly regarded in both Japan and North America, Tamaribuchi intends to maintain the group’s emphasis on artistic excellence and multidisciplinary performances, the better to “represent ourselves in contemporary format and still draw on our roots and traditions,” she explains. “Ann and Zack left us a wonderful body of work. Their compositions with violin are so beautiful and well rounded. I’m excited about doing more work like that with the group. It’s exciting for me to build on the foundation they created with this idea of Renaissance in mind — it allows us a great amount of freedom and fresh approaches.”

That includes more collaborations, not just with other Japanese cultural organizations, but also reaching out to other cultures in taiko/dance collaborations with Bethany’s Kalabharathi School of Dance, with the Indian American dancers learning some taiko, and PT players some Bharatanatyam moves. A piece co-created by the two groups debuted at this year’s All Indian Dance Festival at Carnegie Hall.

Added Urgency

Portland Taiko’s community mission is even more urgent now in the wake of rising anti-Asian violence and threats over the past few years. Ishimaru says Portland Taiko joined other community groups such as APANO, Oregon Rises Above Hate, and Japanese American Museum of Oregon in public performances and programs that resisted bigotry and affirmed community and pride. And it strives to increase understanding of the community and its history through workshops and school assembly programs.

“A lot of us are anxious, worried about community well-being and justice in the world,” Ishimaru says, especially after the recent US elections. “One thing that continues to be powerful about Portland Taiko has always been an understanding and embrace of a mission that is, yes, about the drum, the art, the power of that music — but also about the power of community, collectivity and voice, and contributing to a more just world. That’s not typical of many taiko groups.”

As the revivified ensemble looks forward to its promising next chapter, it remains grounded in both its artistic and community missions, at a time when they’re needed as much as ever. “With this rise in anti-Asian hate crimes, it’s time to step up and share the joy and hope that taiko brings, and to be the standard bearer of who we are in the community and the benefits of multiculturalism and diversity,” Tamaribuchi says. “We’re talking with friends and colleagues to call people together in a joyful, hopeful way so that they have that spark to stand up in the face of adversity.”

Taiko is uniquely equipped to call attention to injustice and hope. “You’re making a lot of noise so people do pay attention!” she notes. “Taiko as an art form is so accessible. It’s a great vehicle for how we can hold things together for our own community, and be a grounding and inspirational force for the greater community. We’re able to put a human face on a culture and ethnicity, especially if we get out into schools and show people we’re not so foreign, not so other. We’re part of the fabric of the community.”