「Private or Group Lesson (Non-Sports)」カテゴリーアーカイブ

Dylan Atencio: La Carriere Cooking School

投稿日時: 投稿者:

For my Community Involvement Program, I participated in La Carriere Cooking School, located in downtown Kyoto. The school is geared toward Kyoto locals, and separated into men’s and women’s classes. As a member, I was able to learn many methods of cooking–particularly focusing on Japanese cuisine. Many of the other men tended to be middle-aged and older, sometimes there to learn how to cook for themselves, and sometimes there to be more involved in the kitchen with their family.

My first several times were rather a bit of a struggle language-wise. Though I have a decent grasp of understanding conversational Japanese, I did not know most of the food-oriented vocabulary (I did not even know the word for “pepper” before going in). However, over time and with help from the instructors, I became much more comfortable using the terminology and was much better able to follow the recipes as a result. One of the most interesting things I noticed was that when we made Japanese food, it was a necessity that I follow the recipe exactly, and the instructors would sometimes get flustered if I deviated. When it came to European-style food, however, the atmosphere felt much more relaxed, and I was allowed to experiment more freely. As well, the only instructor that seemed okay with me trying to tweak the recipe as I pleased was the only one who had worked outside of Japan.

While cooking, I was able to converse with the chefs and other students, and as my cooking terminology grew, my ability to have more fluent and nuanced conversations about the food increased too. Of course, I did have the more interesting conversations with the younger men–partly because we had more in common, and partly because it seemed that the older men were much more focused on keeping their head down and understanding and perfecting the recipe. For instance, I often was able to talk with others about cultural and linguistic differences between Japan and western countries. Cooking in a Japanese kitchen was a very different experience from the kitchens that I was used to, in that it was much more regimented and focused on aesthetic detail. However, I am glad to have had this opportunity.

Ben Hammond: Nihonga

投稿日時: 投稿者:

As a CIP this semester I took private lessons in Nihonga, or traditional Japanese painting. The action of painting itself was a very tedious process. The materials are all natural so you have to mix the paint, set the silk, and create the oil all by yourself. However, this was not the main reason of the CIP.

In terms of social observations, I was primarily watching interactions between sensei and the kids that would come on either Friday or Monday. Even though the relationship was the same, the interactions on the two days were vastly different. Since Fridays were days for kids who wanted to do arts and crafts, the atmosphere was more laid back. Kids could talk and move around as they pleased and sensei would only briefly check to see how their progress was going. In contrast, the kids on Mondays had a much more serious environment. This was due to the fact that they were practicing writing in pencil and calligraphy, a skill which does not translate to America. The quality of one’s physical writing is not that important but and that translates to my mind set. I was always shocked when sensei corrected a writing that to me seemed fine. It was all in the tiny details.

The difference in the two days, at least to me, speaks to a difference in importance between the two disciplines in Japanese culture. At least at a younger age, writing is valued much higher that drawing, and therefore requires more intense and focused practice. In contrast, there was one child who was a bit older and sensei focused on because they were

seriously working on art on a level past the crafty nature of everyone else. In this case, sense it was good for the future, it was valued highly.

Jingzhou Huang: Tea Ceremony Lessons at Wabichakai

投稿日時: 投稿者:

For my CIP of the spring 2019 semester, I attended tea ceremony lessons in Kyoto Wabichakaiわび茶会(http://www.kyoto-wabichakai.info/) two hours once a week, normally on Wednesdays from 5 p.m.

I have to say this could be my worthiest experience over the time I have spent in Kyoto to get close to authentic Japanese traditional culture. I did not only learn and practise complicated tea-making process, but also come to understand stringent tea ceremony manner, improve my communication technique while talking with my tea ceremony teacher, Fujimura sensei, and other group members, and spend awesome time with them doing extracurricular activities outside the lessons. For instances, we occasionally had delicate cuisine preparations for specific Japanese events instead of regular trainings, and we once went out to participate in large tea ceremony in Heian Jingu Shrine for cherry bloosom viewing in April. These unprecedented experience enriched my oversea life that could not be gained in scholastic classes or anywhere else.

I chose this lesson as my CIP since I was very interested in this sort of somewhat mysterious Japanese cultural property, so I asked KCJS teachers to look for a local tea ceremony group that could accept a totally inexperienced foreigner like me. I think Wabichakaiwas probably slightly different from other tea ceremony groups in Kyoto, according to my experience exchange with other KCJS students who knew about tea ceremony to some extent. Wabichakaidoes not that traditional and rigid but more flexible and original in the way of delivering the spirit of tea ceremony.

Wabichakaihas its own weekly special event called “ocha therapy” in which the activation of sensory experience is the most pivotal essence of holding tea ceremonies. The most important thing is to perceive the instant existence and obtain spiritual joviality by feeling, hearing, smelling, and tasting the tea. The concept and atmosphere of Wabichakaimade me feel less constrained and more like an insider of this group. Certainly I had to prudently learn each single act and way of phrasing from preparing tea tools to tidying up them after making a cup of tea, but, to my surprise, I was not required to strictly comply with 上下関係or use keigo in face-to-face conversation as I used to imagine. The lessons I had in Wabichakaiwere private ones rather than in a group, so generally I had only Fujimura sensei along with one of her apprentices N san in my lesson. Sensei is an amazingly elegant, easy-going and enthusiastic lady. In our normal practice lessons, as I proceeded to a certain step of the tea ceremony, sensei often explained some interesting cultural background and origin in relation to that step. For instances, I have learned the history and features of overall Japanese tea ceremony and Kyoto tea ceremony, the reason of arranging tea tools in given places in the tea tray, the meaning of conducting certain ritual acts, etc. I have learned far more manners about not only tea ceremony but also Kyoto culture than I expected.

Honestly speaking, as for tea ceremony itself, the intricacy of it was sort of out of my scope that it was difficult to truly assimilate things I have learned in the lessons. The semester is not long enough for me mastering a newly learned skill and being adept at tea ceremony. But overall the experience of building good relationship with these friendly Japanese and experiencing Kyoto culture with them was memorable.

Andrea Radziminski: Tea Ceremony Lessons (Spring Semester)

投稿日時: 投稿者:

From the fall of 2018 through the spring of 2019 my CIP was attending tea ceremony lessons. In the fall, I experienced how tightly knit a tea ceremony school could be, because it took a couple of lessons before the teacher and other students stopped keeping me at such a distance and treating me as a complete outsider. They kept me at a distance not to be mean nor discourage me, but because we had not yet developed a feeling of closeness and had no shared experiences. Since then my linguistic, cultural, and mechanical knowledge of the tea ceremony has increased week by week, and the distance between myself and other students has decreased in proportion. Along the way, I learned that my school takes the tea ceremony very seriously. Therefore, until they get to know a new student more and witness that student’s hard work at lessons and passion for the tea ceremony, the new student cannot become a member of the group.

With the above in mind, I also came to realize that just as Japanese culture emphasizes the group, as opposed to the individual, so too does the tea ceremony. At our tea school all students are at different levels and are of vastly different ages, but everyone learns and works together. For instance, there are only two tearooms and one tea teacher despite there often being 12-18 students learning at one time. Thus, we must work together so that lessons run smoothly, such as by helping one another in small ways to set up for practicing the tea ceremony. Likewise, we clean up together by helping those who finished practicing the tea ceremony to clean up the tools, sweets dish, etc. Then, we also learn together. Since there are so many of us in the same tearooms at the same time, our teacher could not possibly teach us one by one. Therefore, only a few students practice the tea ceremony while the rest play the part of guests. We take turns playing each part so that everyone gets to eat a sweet twice and to prepare tea once or twice.

At the head this hustle and bustle, our teacher orchestrates and oversees what the makers of tea and guests of tea do. Meanwhile, the students playing guests are expected to help one another and, when the teacher is in the other tearoom, to help give reminders, hints, etc. to those making tea. When our teacher has an important point to make about a tea ceremony type (as there are quite a few kinds), techniques, tea tools, tea ceremony décor, all students are expected to pay close attention at the same time. Whether or not this style of teaching is unique to my school, I know not. However, it makes our school at least a place to learn, make mistakes, and sometimes even laugh together—it also makes the fairly intense strictness tolerable and even enjoyable at times. And so, I am still very glad I chose this school and did not give up.

In summary, I learned that our tea school is tight knit community that takes the way of tea very seriously. However, once a student proves that their intentions for learning are serious through sincerity, hard work, and practice; our school becomes a welcoming community. In our vast world of tea inside our little tea school we learn together, work together, and admire the many tea ceremony seasons together all while making tea.

Yueran Ding: Shamisen Lesson

投稿日時: 投稿者:

Based on my interest in musical instruments and previous experience in playing the flute, cello, and piano, I decided to learn a traditional Japanese instrument for my CIP. Learning shamisen(三味線) with Iwasaki sensei seems to me a natural choice given that she has already taught many KCJS students koto(琴) or shamisen before, and I find my experience learning with her as rewarding as I expected.

At first, I thought I was going to a “private lesson” once a week, but it turned out that for the most of the time I participated in a “group practice”. In the first three weeks, Iwasaki sensei taught me and another student from KCJS some shamisen basics, and those were the only “private lessons” that I had. Three weeks later, she let us join the large group and practice with other senior students, all of whom were in their sixties, seventies and even eighties. I realized that the group practice was indeed a perfect opportunity for me to observe how Japanese, especially Japanese seniors behaved during practice. I once supposed they would be very serious just like what I had seen in in television shows or movies how tea masters giving lessons, but I was wrong. The vibe of the group practice was in fact lighthearted. My classmates loved to tell jokes and especially joked about their ages a lot. When a student who was about my grandma’s age pretended(ぼけ) that she was 20, and another student would point out(突っ込み) her actual age in a funny tone, making everybody else laugh. Iwasaki sensei encouraged such relaxing atmosphere to make sure everybody feel happy and enjoy the practice.

One of the reasons that I came to Kyoto was that I wanted to learn a little Kansai-ben, which means dialect in the Kansai area, so I was excited to discover that the teacher and students here all talked in Kansai-ben. Before I came to Kyoto, the only source where I could hear Kansai-ben was Japanese variety shows, so I used to feel that Kansai-ben was hilarious yet might sound a little disrespectful sometimes. However, students here talked to Iwasaki sensei in Kansai-ben with honorific expressions. For example, they would use “食べはる” and “～してはる”, and always talk with “です””ます” ending. This surprised me because my observation here during the group practice broke my stereotype in the way that Kansai-ben could also be respectful. Interestingly, when I got used to hearing Kansai-ben, I started to feel that talking in Kansai-ben with honorific expressions was actually an ideal way to communicate since the speaker would be able to speak in a relatively intimate tongue while showing respect at the same time.

When it was close to dinner time, Iwasaki sensei often invited her students to go for a dinner with her, so I was also able to eat with my warm-hearted classmates. Although all at the age of my grandfathers and grandmothers, they were still energetic, loved to joke around, and even ate more than I do (wow!). Thanks to such opportunities, I was able to observe how Japanese interact when they were at a group dinner. I noticed that Iwasaki sensei and my classmates never poured liquor by themselves but instead always poured liquor for others all the time. When everybody finished eating, Iwasaki sensei would collect about 1000 yen from each student (but not me or other KCJS students, probably because we were too young to earn money yet…or because she wanted to care for new students? ) and pay at the cashier by herself.

Learning shamisen with Iwasaki sensei makes a perfect CIP for me. I was invited by her to join other students to perform as a group on December 8th, which would enable me to show what I have learned during the past three months-a perfect end for this amazing experience. I not only learned how to play Shamisen, but also had a great experience participating in a small Japanese community, observing how people behaved and interacting with them. I would genuinely recommend Iwasaki sensei and her shamisen/koto lesson to anybody who is interested in Japanese musical instrument, or just want to have a great time experiencing Japanese society and culture.

Antonio Mckinney: Koto Lessons

投稿日時: 投稿者:

This past semester, for my CIP project, I had the opportunity to take koto lessons at Greenwich House. Learning how to play the koto has been a long time desire of mine so I was excited to start classes, to say the least. Through one of the Japanese teachers who also takes classes at Greenwich House I was put in contact with Iwasaki Sensei and soon after had my first class.

When I arrived on the first day, I was warmly greeted by two of Iwasaki Sensei’s experienced students who began to show me the rendition of Sakura and a number of other folk songs that I would be practicing for the next semester. It’s a little embarrassing to admit but when I arrived that day, because I was expecting the students to be my age or younger, I mistook one of the women to be Iwasaki Sensei. It wasn’t until half an hour into the class that I finally realized that the person sitting next to me was actually a student and that Iwasaki Sensei wasn’t even there yet. However, it became very clear who Iwasaki Sensei was once she did arrive because immediately after, to my delight and horror, we played through the entire number as a full ensemble. Rather, I should say, the rest of the class played the entire number as an ensemble. I just plucked some random strings in the background. Despite my complete lack of ability as a beginner, because I had tried to engage as much as possible the rest of the class kindly accepted me and I was able to enjoy my first attempt at playing the koto.

As I continued to return to Greenwich House for weekly classes it soon became apparent to me that the classroom Iwasaki Sensei had cultivated was warm, friendly and because of the communal closeness the lines between Sensei and teacher were casual and unassuming. Before class, arriving students are always enthusiastically greeted, no one gets mad when we have to stop playing to help someone understand a portion of music and on Mondays Iwasaki Sensei and any interested students go out for dinner. There was even an occasion when one of the Obasans, on the first day she met me, invited me over to her house to continue practicing folk songs while we waited for the rest of the class to finish playing an enka piece.

With the students being so friendly and easygoing starting up a conversation is never difficult and I often found myself chit-chatting with other students before the teacher arrived. These casual conversations have been a lot of fun and great Japanese practice as I will often have to put my listening skills to the test to understand a few of the student’s Kansai-ben. However, even if there are times when I mishear something or struggle to convey an idea clearly any of the discomfort that might arise as a result soon fades away once we begin to play.

Actually learning how to play the koto has exceeded all my expectations and getting to learn from Iwasaki Sensei and the other students at Greenwich House has been a truly special experience. For those of you want to learn how to play the Koto or simply want a supportive community to practice your Japanese in I would definitely suggest you stop by Greenwich house. I am confident that if you are excited to engage with Iwasaki Sensei and the other students everyone at Greenwich house will welcome you with open arms.

Kevin Woolsey: Calligraphy

投稿日時: 投稿者:

For my CIP, I chose to take calligraphy lessons. Sensei and I would often have random conversations, but the one which most gripped my attention was about Kentucky Fried Chicken in Japan. For those unaware, eating Kentucky Fried Chicken on Christmas has become a tradition in Japan. For 4000 yen, one can order an “original party barrel”, which comes with eight pieces of chicken, a “Christmas salad”, a chocolate cake, and Christmas themed plates. Or, for a more upscale KFC Christmas bash, one can splurge on a 5880 yen whole roast chicken.

I had heard about this mysterious collaboration before I studied abroad, but it never really hit me until one day I passed by a KFC with a banner which read: “Now accepting reservations for Christmas”. It was only early November. Surprised by how early the Christmas mood was starting for KFC, I decided to ask sensei about the origins of this tradition at my next calligraphy lesson.

Confronted with my sudden question, sensei fell silent. After a few moments of deep contemplation, she laughed, coming to the realization that she had no idea, nor did she ever consider the question. The connection between KFC and Christmas had simply become common sense in her mind.

Upon further inquiry, sensei dug deeper into her memory and revealed what she knew about the issue. During her childhood, Christmas itself had not yet become a widespread tradition. At the time, Japan was just getting back on its feet after the defeat. However, celebrating Christmas began to catch on around the time she reached late elementary school or middle school. Sensei seemed to vaguely recall that it was custom to eat roast chicken and such on Christmas. Then, sometime around 40 years ago, KFC capitalized on that existing custom by marketing itself as the thing to eat on Christmas.

However, sensei admitted that she didn’t have much confidence in her account. Determined to get to the bottom of the issue, I conducted a quick Google search and stumbled upon a BBC article reporting on the exact same topic. According to the KFC Japan spokeswoman interviewed by the journalist, the tradition started thanks to Takeshi Okawara, the manager of the first KFC ever in Japan. He heard a couple foreigners in his store talking about how they missed eating turkey for Christmas. Then, as with many great revelations, the idea to marry KFC and Christmas suddenly came to him in a dream one night. He soon began to market the iconic “party barrel”, and in 1974 the company deployed the campaign at the national level, resulting in massive success almost instantly. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Although Japan’s unique traditional culture, such as tea ceremony, understandably often gets the most attention from foreigners, the “melting pot” aspect of Japan culture revealed in customs such as these is interesting in its own right. After enjoying a hefty bucket of KFC for Christmas, Japanese go on to hear the joya no kane, a bell in a Buddhist temple struck 108 times leading up to midnight on New Year’s Eve, and visit a Shinto shrine for hatsumōde. This post had absolutely nothing to do with calligraphy, but perhaps the most important things one learns in calligraphy lessons is not calligraphy itself.

Reference:

http://www.bbc.com/capital/story/20161216-why-japan-celebrates-christmas-with-kfc

Yini Li: Shamisen

投稿日時: 投稿者:

As a Music Major student, I chose Shamisen（三味線）as my CIP project. This is a traditional Japanese instrument, and it brings me to a new music world.

My Shamisen teacher is Iwasaki sensei. She is an elegant Japanese woman who teaches shamisen and koto (琴), which is another traditional Japanese instrument. In the classroom on the second floor of Greenwich House which belongs to Iwasaki sensei, She often leads group practices with her shamisen, koto and shakuhachi(尺八) students, and I am glad to be part of them.

I still remember the first time that I went to practice. That was a group practice. Iwasaki sensei was holding a shamisen and singing a Japanese traditional folk song, while her koto, shamisen and shakuhachi students were each playing their own parts. There were about six students in that room, and all the students except me and another girl from KCJS were in their sixties or seventies.

“いらっしゃいませ。” this was the first sentence that Iwasaki sensei said to me. One of her students, a friendly-looking obaa-chan, gave me a cup of juice and some cookies. Everyone in the room was so nice that they asked me to help myself if I wanted to drink more or eat more. Their kindness relieved my anxiety being at my first practice and made me feel at home.

Shamisen is called Shamisen(三味線) because it has three strings. Comparing to instruments such as guitar and violin which have more than three strings, shamisen, having fewer strings, may seems easier to handle, but it was hard for me because I haven’t played any string instruments before.

The score of shamisen surprised me since it was different from any other Western music score that I had ever seen before. The notes were written in a combination of kanji for the first and second string and Arabic numbers for the third string. Instead of using scores written in contemporary form which do not include kanji and thus is easier to understand for beginners like me, Iwasaki sensei insists on using the score of traditional style. I like the traditional form of score very much; the style of score made me realize that shamisen has its own music system, a different way to perform music.

I joined the group practice with other Iwasaki sensei’s students. As a foreigner learning a new instrument, it was very hard at first. Sometimes Iwasaki sensei instructs me with Japanese music terminologies that I do not understand, but luckily, everyone within the classroom is willing to help me. One of the obaa-chans always helps me with toning and fingering; Iwasaki sensei often patiently explains how to play shamisen in the right position; another obaa-chan teaches me how to read the kanji notes. Therefore, I am almost never lost in the practice.

I participated in some group practices in the evening, and Iwasaki sensei always invited me and her other students to have dinner together. During the dinner time, Iwasaki sensei was always willing to chat with me about my life in Japan, which made me feel so warm. I enjoyed the dinner time with Iwasaki sensei and other students very much.

I think it would be hard for me to continue learning shamisen after I leave Japan. However, learning shamisen with Iwasaki sensei is an experience that is worthy to memorize throughout my lifetime. It is always hard to start to learn something new, but I managed to do it thanks to the help of all the cordial people that I met in Iwasaki sensei’s classroom. Thanks for everything!

Chungsun Lee: Dance Studio

投稿日時: 投稿者:

I attended K-pop dancing classes for my CIP. Since I love dancing K-pop and have been performing back at Emory as well, I thought it would be fun to take K-pop class in Japan. Fortunately, one of KCJS students was also interested in taking a dance class for CIP, so we went to the studio together. For the first try out, we took girls’ hip-hop class. It was fun but it was hard to interact with people since people were not really interested in new students and the instructor did not seem to be interested as well. Next week, we attended K-pop class since we both are interested in K-pop. Unfortunately, classmates were mostly middle school students, which made it difficult for us to talk to people or to get along with. Even though the class itself is very interesting and fun, it was hard to interact with people. Most of the classmates went to take other classes right after our class, so I felt like I did not have time to talk with classmates. However, I had a chance to attend K-pop class in Tokyo. There, the instructor was caring about new students and had a small talk after class about whether or not I enjoyed the class. Also, since I am a Korean and classmates were all very interested in Korea, when they knew that I am a Korean, classmates came to me to talk about their affection to Korea or how much they love k-pop or showing off their Korean skills. Compare to the studio in Kyoto, I would say I enjoyed the atmosphere and the energy of instructor and classmates of Tokyo studio more and it was way easier to have a conversation with people. The most important thing when entering new groups is the reaction and attention of existing members to new members. However, instructors and classmates in Kyoto studio were not very interested in new students, which made it hard for me to get along with people at Kyoto Studio.

Because my goal for CIP was to interact with Japanese people outside of KCJS and become friends with people who have same interest(k-pop), I was not able to achieve my goal at the studio in Kyoto. If you are willing to join dance studio for your CIP, try to find a studio where they have a more welcoming atmosphere and also try actively to interact with people.

Ben Sisson: La Carriere Cooking Lessons

投稿日時: 投稿者:

餅入り稲荷寿司
The hardest dish, but the most delicious one!

For my CIP, I attended cooking lessons at La Carriere cooking school. My time there was like a condensed version of my time in Japan as a whole. Every moment I spent at that school was a mix of confusion and excitement, and I was basically always hungry. The lessons consisted of a forty minute lecture in the preparation of the dishes and then an hour and a half of cooking. The lectures were extremely difficult to understand and so I gained only a cursory knowledge of culinary terms. Still, the lecturers prepared the dish as they talked, so I was able to glean the technique just by looking. If I got distracted for even a moment I would fall behind the other students and not be able to complete the dish, so this class really tested my focus. In general, this need to focus was pretty reflective of my experience in Japan: the only way I can avoid making a fool of myself and getting lost is if I carefully observed how others behave.

The other students, all much older than me, were a mixed bag. I definitely did not put as much effort as I should have towards trying to use keigo with my cooking partners; still, it was already enough of a challenge to complete the dish and speak in the desu/masu form I was used to, so keigo seemed impossible. On the other hand, I was surprised how easy humor transferred over sometimes. I’ve been told that jokes do not really translate, but if I said smiled and said「作りにくいですね 」when my partner and I were both struggling, I could get a genuine laugh.

I was grateful for this, as I communicate mostly through humor in English, and I was worried my classmates would be too serious or stuck up to be kind to a young foreigner like me. Sometimes my partners would not reciprocate, but they would at least feign interest. In general, the elderly people I talked to were exceptionally skilled at pretending to care and at politely declining things; frankly, they were so well mannered it was shocking. They had social skills that were pretty lacking in America.

I was even able to meet a retired doctor who took me to a Soto Zen sitting at a temple in a small town, which has been a dream of mine for a long while. At the temple, everyone was exceptionally open. It was interesting to see how much more relaxed they were during the sitting sessions than the Americans I had meditated with in Boston. People in Japan have been practicing Zen for so long that there is no need to put on a show or to pretend to be something they are not. The monk lectured for a long time, but he did not feel the need to prove himself, which was refreshing compared to the way all the American Zen teachers try to show off their intellectuality.

In general, these two experiences were extremely gratifying and made all the trouble of learning Japanese—including all of the embarrassing moments—worth it: I got a genuine glimpse of two subcultures within Japan, and now I understand a bit more about the people who populate them.