“Kumidaiko inherently means drumming as an ensemble, and perhaps most important is the impact of this style of playing - to unify taiko players with each other, with their audience, and with their community. This is pretty profound.”

“Camaraderie and treating the members of the performing company as family is something we’ve sustained even after departing San Jose Taiko. This almost instinctive moral, social, and emotional support for our family, friends, and contacts comes from a system that played an important role in the early days of Japantown. The Issei brought with them the practice of tanomoshi, a support system outside the family. This refers to a pooled source of money used among a network of families and was shared with essential workers who the families depended on - like the gardener or the mail person. In short, the community had your back, no questions asked. This way of thinking is ingrained in us as we enjoy serving others, whatever the situation, but certainly this was honed when we were active taiko performers.”

“It is through the empathy felt with other taiko players, that a level of comfort and intuitiveness develops, a sort of sixth sense that expresses itself through wordless reactions and interactions. This is the heart of taiko. This is the real gift of taiko.”

“We were youths in the 60’s and 70’s struggling to find our identity as Japanese Americans amidst the barriers of racism, and other boiling human rights issues. Taiko gave us a tool to be loud. We used taiko in the spirit of being activists for our own liberation.”

“Blurring the lines between the artist and audience was a mindset that became part of our aesthetic. Accessibility was paramount, the exchange of energy, the face-to-face contact, the connection with the audience before and after the show, acknowledging their presence was key to our taiko experience and made us better performers.”

“Seeing taiko as a way for you to be culturally relevant can unleash not only your creativity, but your responsibility to be a purveyor and good steward of taiko, the art form.”

“The rigor of being ritualistic in preparation for playing taiko is actually quite a beautiful thing. Tieing your obi, tieing your hachimaki, tieing a shime - the same way, over and over again. These are practices that should be respected and handed down in a proper way.”

“When we approach taiko with an open heart and open mind, we allow infinite possibilities for creativity, collaboration, and learning something new.”

“The key to your ki is heart and authenticity, something that often takes time and practice to become second nature, but it’s in everyone.”

“We’ve seen countless players transform through taiko and often times it’s simply when they empower themselves and they play authentically - when they stop trying to copy or replicate another player’s chops or solo. They give themselves permission to take risks - in composition, in movement, in how they strike the drum.”

“The rise in popularity of taiko has been staggering over the past decade or so. While this is exciting to witness, we’re concerned about what’s at stake - that the true meaning of taiko and where it came from will get lost, that people will play without sincere regard for where North American taiko came from.”

“We regard the partnerships we’ve cultivated over the past many decades to be integral to sustaining taiko as an art form. We’ve served on many boards and review panels for local, state, and national organizations and funders. The dual benefit is a deeper understanding of the funding process while being given platforms to advocate for multi-ethnic arts. The relationship building within the arts ecosystem has been a critical part of our ability to influence.”

“We believe the resources available to taiko artists and performing ensembles will continue to develop if we continue to 1. Raise the bar of performance excellence and 2. Educate presenters, promoters, and funders with a deeper understanding of the taiko art form.”