Stalk broker

>> Alcvin Takegawa Ramos reveres the bamboo shakuhachi flute’s roots and offshoots

WIND CHILL FACTOR:
Alcvin Takegawa Ramos

by RUPERT BOTTENBERG

The raspy, sonorous howl of the Japanese bamboo shakuhachi flute is well known to fans of samurai cinema—its doleful tones generally precede some crabby dude in a topknot making sashimi out of lesser swordsmen at lightning speed. But it does have more uplifting uses, if you consider the efforts of Canada’s Alcvin Takegawa Ramos, a virtuoso player—proof lies in his recent CD Zen Shakuhachi 1, zeroing in on the flute’s meditative nature—and also the director of Bamboo-In, a secluded retreat in B.C. where the fashioning and playing of the instrument is elevated to a sacred endeavour.

Mirror: Unlike guitar, sax or piano, which have wide-open applications, the shakuhachi flute is a comparatively rarified and specific instrument. For that reason, I’d suspect that it chose you rather than the other way around.

Alcvin Takegawa Ramos: I think it goes a bit of both ways. It did strike me as a wonderfully expressive instrument when I first heard it on a CD, way back in high school. I did really want to pursue the study of it, first of all because the sound of it was so profound, it hit me on a deep level. Then I started reading about its history, and of course Japanese culture was a powerful influence in my life—I was born in Japan. And of course, its roots lie in Eastern religions such as Buddhism. When I started looking at photos of the monks who played it, and how it was related to the martial arts, I was like, “This is my instrument!” (laughs). It’s such a natural thing, just a piece of bamboo with five holes in it. You say it’s a rarified instrument, but in fact it’s widely used in many applications today, from rock to jazz to classical to ambient to anything you want. It’s become a very versatile instrument.

M: For those who sign up for workshops at Bamboo-In, you advocate a very thorough involvement with the flute, going right back to the harvesting of the bamboo from which they’ll be made. Why is that important to you?

ATR: Because I want to share the shakuhachi on a deep level. I’m the only one in the world, in fact, doing this, that we actually go to Japan itself—last time we went, the students harvested in four different places, which is unheard of for non-Japanese, and of course we do religious pilgrimages to certain sacred sites. The reason is that so many things affect how you play and your state of being when you play, and to start your connection from the very origins is such a profound experience for everybody who can afford it.

M: I’d imagine that individually handcrafted flutes might have slight quirks, making each one unique. Is this something you welcome, or should those crafting the flutes strive for absolute uniformity of sound?

ATR: Oh, no. Each bamboo is totally unique, with its own idiosyncrasies. You can’t avoid that, even if you tried your hardest. Then of course, the players themselves have their own idiosyncrasies. In fact, in Japanese aesthetics, that’s totally welcome. You emphasize that.

At la Sala Rossa on Monday,
Dec. 17, 10 p.m., $10