ライネキ・ガブリエル:お琴と京大合唱団

私は、先学期と一緒、井元先生の元でお琴を習っています。そして、今学期から京都大学の合唱団にも入っている。どちらも音楽に関しているのに、色々と違うものを経験させてくれてます。
お琴には生田流と山田流の二つの主な筝曲の流儀がありますが、井元先生が教えて下さっているのは生田流です。
お琴を弾く時、親指(1)・人差し指(2)・中指(3) の三つの指に「爪」と言うギター・ピックのような物をはめて、絃を爪弾きます。二つの流儀の第一違いはこの爪の形なのです。私が習っている生田流では、爪が四角い爪で、山田流のは丸い爪です。もう一つの違いは、山田流では、お琴に対して真っ直ぐに座って弾くものの、生田流では斜めに座るのです。
お琴には十三の絃があるのですが、自分から一番遠い絃から順番に一から十三まで数えます。けれども、お琴の楽譜は音符の代わりに漢字の数字で書いてあるため、二つの字を使う「十一」「十二」「十三」の絃は別名で呼ばれるようになりました。十一本の糸は「斗(ト)」と呼んで、十二本のは「為(イ)」で、十三本のは「巾(キン)」となっています。
お琴を習うとともに、日本の芸術に関する文化のことも、日本の常識についても、少しづつ習って来ている感じがします。師匠との正しい接し方、身でものを覚えること、近所の付き合い、そして勿論、日本の伝統的な音楽などを徐々に学んで来てます。
一方で、京大の合唱団は一応大学のサークルだし、皆が大体私と同じ歳なので、団内の人間関係はお琴の場合とは随分違います。合唱団の皆さんは勿論私の先輩ですが、仲間として受け入れてくれた日から、私の事を本物のソプラノのメンバーの一員として扱ってくれてます。敬語の代わりにくだけた話し方を使いますし、練習中でも、その外でも、友達同士が音楽を楽しむために集まっている感じがします。

習っている音楽も練習の行い方も随分違うんですけど、やっぱり一番異なっている点は人間関係だと思います。どちらの場合も得点があると思いますし、どちらも同時に経験できることが本当に有難く思ってます。

ライネキ・アドリ:京都大学合唱団

今学期は京都大学の合唱団に参加させて頂いてます。先学期はアカペラのサークルに入ろうとしたんですが、バンドのメンバーがなかなか纏らないまま学期が終わってしまった為、今学期は合唱団に入ることにしました。京大の合唱団は全体的に混声の合唱でありながら、実際に男性も女性も混ぜた練習は週に一回しか行われません。女性の場合、練習は週に二回行われ、水曜日が混声練習で、金曜日が女声練習です。混声でやる曲と女声でやる曲はそれぞれに違う為、色々な曲が歌えるので私は結構好きです。

練習は夕方の6:15から行われますが、ほとんどのメンバー達は少し早めに来て、色々話をしたり、歌ったりします。女声の日でも、男性も同じ建物で練習するので、練習の一番初めに歌う「愛唱曲」は普段男女揃って歌っています。「愛唱曲」を歌ってから、パートに分かれて体操をします(因みに私はソプラノです)。体操は結構徹底したもので、最初はちょっとびっくりしました。体操の後は声のウォームアップで、それが終わってからやっと正式な練習に入ります。練習の途中でパートから全メンバーで練習するのに変わり、パートずつで新しく習ったところを合わせて歌います。練習が一段落してから、お知らせや発表などをしたり、ボックスを掃除したりします。その後もまた「愛唱曲」を歌います。練習は正式には8:15に終わることになっていますが、実際には9:30まで続くことが多いです。

メンバーが全員本当にいい人達で、すぐ受けてくれたことが非常に嬉しかったです。練習の流れで私の知らない日本語が出て来るたびに親切に説明してくれるし、練習以外に色々なイベントに誘ってくれたりもします。今練習している曲の発表会が私が帰国する数日後の為、一緒に歌えないけど、とにかく、私は皆さんと練習できて嬉しいです。残りの二ヶ月間、京大合唱団のメンバーとして全力を尽くします!

デイビッド・グレケル:囲碁

ぼくのCIPは囲碁を打つことだ。囲碁というのは伝統的な日本のゲームだ。中国から来たが、日本でも人気だ。僕は三年前、アメリカで習った。打ち始めた時から、いつか日本で打ちたいと思っていた。アメリカで囲碁はそんなに人気じゃないから、日本に早く来たかった。しかし、今は春休みだから、大学のサークルはあまり活動ない。

運良く、京都の囲碁サロンは活動があった。からすまおいけに近いサロンに時々行く。毎週一回700円払って、サロンに入る。大半はお年寄りだが、いつも僕にやさしい。僕は若い外国人だから、いつもじろじろ見られる。でも、同志社の大学生もいて、友達になった。

囲碁を打つ時に、相手の年は重要じゃない。石を打つと、相手の性格が見える。終わったら、相手と試合について話すことは普通で、相手の日本語が分からないときも時々あるが、それほど困らない。

サロンには普通の人以外に、プロもいる。ちょっと高いが、プロと打つと、早く強くなる。あるプロと打ったことがある。とても強くて、その先生の忠告はとても役に立つ。囲碁の打ち方を習う以外に、打ち終わったらその先生と試合を勉強することは僕の日本語の勉強にもなっている。

James Chiang: Doshisha Alpine Club

KCJS Fall 2011

Community Involvement Project, Blog Entry 2

 

The photograph on my desktop “beneath” the empty white and mocking blue of the word processor shows Mount Fuji flanked in the foreground by the foothills of the Minami Alps.  I had gotten up at 4 in the morning, packed away my frozen tent, and stumbled sleepily to the summit of Kita Dake in time to take it just as the sun came up.  Looking at it helps me to escape, in some sense, the confines of my room when work pins me to my desk, although in terms of air temperature my room and the second highest peak of Japan at sunrise in late fall are not such different places (and I’m wearing the same cozy socks now as I was then).  This brings me closer to the point of this exposition: to reflect on my experiences in the Doshisha Alpine Club.  That trip was not, in fact, one of the club’s, but it may as well have been.  If Doshisha University’s fall break was aligned with that if my study abroad program, perhaps it could have been.

Every Thursday for the past ten weeks, I have commuted by train to practice rock climbing with two other members of the Doshisha Alpine club.  A number of factors have conspired to prevent me from participating as much as I might like to: the commute is long enough that I can’t really afford to go more than once a week, my Japanese doesn’t allow me to say simple but important things like “don’t put your weight on the rope yet or you’ll fall to your death, I haven’t finished the anchor” or to understand the same, and because I’m not a true Doshisha student I don’t have the insurance policy I need to participate in outdoor activities.  So I haven’t been attending the weekend alpine climbing training sessions that this club holds in place of the drinking sessions that I hear comprise the weekend itineraries of other clubs, nor will I go on their winter climbing expeditions next week.  Incidentally, that expedition doesn’t line up with my vacation time either, and miscommunications in 100km/hr ice-laced winds are bad enough even when everybody speaks the same language.

In spite of these obstacles and the condition of quasi-membership they impose, I’m going to miss the two people I rock climb with every Thursday, and I think to some extent they’ll miss me.  One might think that the fact that every Thursday we trust each other’s belay to prevent lethal (or paralyzing, or maiming…) falls has brought us together, but we exercised this trust without much thought from the very first day, and the first few sessions had a rather awkward and formal social character, so I don’t think this has much influence.  My relationship with the two other Thursday-afternoon-rock-climbing-practitioners has progressed in the same manner as an ordinary friendship, with common interests and shared activities doing battle with an exceptionally stiff language barrier.  I humbly assume all responsibility for communication failures while in Japan, but the other person’s speed has a tremendous influence and I can still hardly understand anything my climbing partner says.  It’s a testament to the strength of unspoken communication that we’ve come to understand something about each other’s character without ever really hearing any of each other’s ideas.

Is this alpine club here in Japan different from the one at Cornell?  Well, Cornell University is located a solid 6 hour plane ride away from anything I would call “alpine”, so we don’t have an alpine club in the true sense of the word, but we do have a university funded outdoor club that offers PE courses in everything from canoeing to ice climbing.  The more I think about their official structure and composition, the less I can justify drawing comparisons between the two institutions, but ultimately they both represent groups of people who spend time together outside.  The senpai-kohai relationships evident in the speech patterns of Japanese club members struck me at first as evidence of the presence of a hierarchy completely absent in the American club model.  Ultimately, beyond dictating which verb-forms are appropriate for whom, and fostering self-introductions that include what this American student finds to be an awkward and unnecessary mention of what year student what is, these relationships don’t seem to have too much influence.  So I suppose an alpine club is an alpine club, Japan or America (unless it isn’t).

I’ve gotten somewhere, or at least consumed some of that taunting white space.  Now I’ll press save, put away this awful blue, and go back to gazing at the sea of clouds to which Fuji is an island, a distant perfect lonely cone of rock.

 

Gabrielle Reinecke: O-koto (traditional Japanese string instrument)

CIP Blog 2: The Koto
The first time I ever heard the koto played was in my second year of elementary school and I, child that I was, fell in love with the sound and swore that one day I would learn to play it. To find myself in Japan some thirteen years later, realizing that childhood pledge is a bit wondrous in an odd sort of way. I’m not sure if it was serendipity or extreme care when it came to assigning host families (though I suspect it was the latter) but I was lucky enough to be placed in a homestay with connections that allowed that childhood whim to become a reality.
As with most things, it started off rather simple and increased with difficulty as I progressed to more complex pieces. However, though I’ve learned many songs and practices associated with the ikuda-ryuu tradition, I feel that what I’ve really gained is a glimpse into the heart of Kyoto.
My instructor, Imoto-sensei, is both nothing like I expected she would be, and precisely how I imagined a Japanese thespian would be, if that makes any sense at all. She was raised in an era where everything from behavior to language was cultivated to present a certain image of the Japanese woman, and in Japan’s ancient capital no less. This, combined with her artistic roots and, of course, her own personality has lead her to speak with some of the most flowery language I’ve ever heard. Now, by flowery I don’t mean poetic and overdone, but elegant, pitched, and extremely polite. So polite, in fact, that I was thrown when she spoke to me, her student, in keigo (honorific language), and bowed so many times I eventually lost count.
Naturally, when your sensei bows, you bow back (and lower) and respond to her words in kind. This formality, from what I’ve heard, is not uncommon in the world of traditional Japanese arts, but as one who is still somewhat unsure when to bow to whom and how deeply, I found myself a bit flustered until I learned how to enter, greet, and then conclude these lessons. It wasn’t so much that I couldn’t understand the process or words as that there were so many ordered exchanges and bows it took me a few weeks to remember what order they came in. Then there was the presentation of omiyage, and (more difficult to navigate) the way to accept a return gift graciously. I actually found myself biking home in the rain one day with several cold tofu products balanced on one handlebar and about thirty freshly made kara-age on the other, knowing that my host mother had already been cooking all day for her granddaughter’s birthday).
I even had the chance to get an inside glimpse at the way neighborhood relations work when I helped put one of my friends in contact with sensei (I assumed it would take one or two phone calls; in fact it took close to fifteen and a lot of face redress strategies out of respect for people’s existing relations).
All in all I found my experience informative and rewarding. Though it did tend to get time consuming and complicated at times, I realize looking back that it was then that I learned the most. If there is one thing I regret about my CIP, it was the lack of opportunity to interact with people my own age on a more daily basis. Because the American and Japanese school years don’t line up well and we can’t commit to everyday practices, it’s rather difficult for study abroad students to get involved in most university clubs and circles. Unfortunately, this also decreases our chances of interacting with Japanese students who do not actively seek to participate in international circles or courses. Most host families do not tend to have children around our age and, unless you’re up for weekly rounds of nomi-kai (drinking parties), opportunities to befriend Japanese people of our generation are rather limited. Having elected to study abroad a full year, I had hoped to make lasting friendships, but I’m worried that if I don’t find more ways to get involved next semester I’ll lose my chance.

Adriana Reinecke: A Cappella

The thing that struck me most about the entire C.I.P. initiative was, ironically, just how difficult it was to initiate. In fact, the one aspect of it that left the biggest impression on me was that it is exceedingly difficult to integrate oneself into the flow of normal Japanese university life as an exchange student residing in an entirely different flow.

My initial difficulty stemmed from the fact that I had to wait for the end of the Dōshisha University summer holiday before I received word from the circle that I had contacted – an a cappella circle called ONE VOICES based on the main Kyōtanabe campus. When I finally did manage to arrange a meeting, I quickly learned that speaking the same language does not guarantee mutual understanding. I misinterpreted the intended meeting time, and almost went home before both I and my contact realized our miscommunication and I turned around.

The second thing that surprised me was the group dynamic within the circle. My contact, who was in charge of member recruitment, immediately insisted I called her Yū-min – an extremely familiar nickname. I was even more surprised to observe that all of the club members I met or was introduced to also call her by her nickname, regardless of whether said member were her sempai or kohai. This dynamic is made more unusual by the break-down of the circle. The largest a cappella circle on campus, ONE VOICES consists of over 200 members organized into “bands” of 6, based on musical interest. This means that many members of the circle meet only on rare occasions for circle-wide events. Yū-min, as the coordinator, was familiar with almost everybody, however, interactions between members of different bands ranged from extremely informal to highly traditional, with rules of seniority being strictly observed. My general impression was that this complicated mixing of differing levels of formality between sub-groups and individuals is a far more truthful representation of group dynamics than the stark, hard-and-fast rules of propriety we are taught in class.

Another factor of this 6-member band structure was that, until five other members presented themselves (actually four, as there was another prospective member touring with me), I was unable to formally start taking part in club activities. This became the biggest obstacle for me and was ultimately why I had to shift what I had been using as my “supplementary C.I.P.” activities (with Kyōto University’s KIXS international circle) to be my main C.I.P., whereas my contact with the Dōshisha a cappella circle was relegated to the “supplementary” spot. I confess I was surprised at how strictly the members stuck to the “6 person rule.” I can’t speak for everyone, but in my experience, American university students might be more inclined to temporarily (or even permanently) allow the formation of a 7 member group, or come up with some other solution in such a case. That is not to say that one is better than the other – simply that they are different.

Were KCJS run on the Japanese academic calendar (which would be exceedingly difficult to reconcile with our lives and schedules back home), I personally think it would be easier to integrate into everyday university life. Despite the fact that in the end I was unable to really join the group due to logistical issues, I still feel like I learned a great deal from the contact I did have with its members, both in person and via text messaging. I was pleasantly surprised by the extremely warm welcome I received – by the end of the first day I had been given a nickname, invited to have dinner and to visit Yū-min at her part-time job, and even asked if I was half Japanese (which I found funny seeing as I’m very obviously Caucasian). I was struck by the level of casual friendliness and openness with which I was welcomed into the group, which as I understand is not a given. It was possibly the first time since coming to Japan that I truly did not feel my “foreignness,” mainly because they did not seem overly concerned by it. All in all, although it did not become my regular C.I.P., I found what contact I did have with the circle both educational and fun, for lack of a better word. I hope to keep in touch with the people I met there for the remainder of my stay in Japan.

ライネキ・ガブリエル:お琴

私は一ヶ月位前に、井元先生の元でお琴を習い始めました。お琴には生田流と山田流の二つの主な筝曲の流儀がありますが、井元先生が教えて下さっているのは生田流です。

お琴を弾く時、親指(1)・人差し指(2)・中指(3) の三つの指に「爪」と言うギター・ピックのような物をはめて、糸を爪弾きます。二つの流儀の第一違いはこの爪の形なのです。私が習っている生田流では、爪が四角い爪で、山田流のは丸い爪です。もう一つの違いは、山田流では、お琴に対して真っ直ぐに座って弾くものの、生田流では斜めに座るのです。

お琴には十三の糸があるのですが、自分から一番遠い絃から順番に一から十三まで数えます。けれども、お琴の楽譜は音符の代わりに漢字の数字で書いてあるため、二つの字を使う「十一」「十二」「十三」の糸は別名で呼ばれるようになりました。十一本の糸は「斗(ト)」と呼んで、十二本のは「為(イ)」で、十三本のは「巾(キン)」となっています。

お琴は千六百年以前からの日本の伝統楽器で、とても綺麗な音を出しますから、皆さん、是非聞いてみてください!

ライネキ・アドリ:アカペラ

こんにちは皆さん!今日は私のC.I.P.を皆さんに紹介させて頂きたいと思いますので、宜しくお願いしますね!

私は同志社大学の京田辺キャンパスで活躍を行っている「One Voices」というアカペラサークルに参加させて頂いてます。分からない人もいるかもしれないので、一応アカペラについて簡単に説明します。「アカペラ」はコーラスに似ていますが、特徴は伴奏(アカンパニメント)がないことです。その代わり、ハーモニーなどは全て声で作っています。

「One Voices」には200名も参加していますが、6人ずつのバンドの集合体です。曲はバンドのメンバーで決めて、練習して、演奏しているから、とても個人的で楽で楽しいです。練習は週に一回で、日にちはバンドによります。その中の50分間の間に音響装置を利用できます。

バンドは6人ずつとはいえ、よくバンド全員で集まってイベントを行っています。今月の26~28日に色々なバンドが京田辺で演奏会を開きますので、良かったらぜひ聴きに来てください!

ジェームス・チャン:山岳部

日本に来る前、趣味でロッククライミングやトレッキングをしていて、もしできれば日本でそう言うことを続けたいなと思っていました。京都では時間が全然なくなってしまうぐらい文化的なことがあって、日本語の勉強も忙しくてアメリカでできる趣味を日本で続けるのは必要ないように見えるかもしれませんが、日本語に迷っていますので自分の能力を生かせる活動が大切ではないでしょうか。そう思って、同志社の山岳部に入りました。

同志社の山岳部は僕の大学のとはそんなに違いません。部員は登山に興味がある明るい学生で、初心者も何年間も経験のある人もいます。登山の紋切り型のイメージの通り、男性の方が多いですが、女性も一人、二人います。 同志社の四回生は研究などで忙しすぎて、たとえ登山したくても参加できないそうですから、四年生の僕は一番年上です。しかし、僕が先輩か後輩かという質問の答え定かではなくて、大切ではありません。

山岳部は京田辺のキャンパスで活動しています。今出川からの通勤時間が長いので、僕は一週間に一回しか参加しませんが、かなり楽なサークルで大丈夫です。

普通はロッククライミングを練習します。クライミングで疲れてしまうから休憩をとりますが、部員と話すのは絶対に休みませんので、いい日本語の勉強になります。登山についての専門的な言葉はほとんど全部英単語で助かります。

 

山岳部の練習です。

KCJSに来る前に北アルプスの槍ヶ岳の近くの笠ヶ岳の頂上で撮った写真です。

槍ヶ岳の夜開け