O tsuri

I enjoy shopping in Japan but not for any reason you might suppose.  The smallest bill here is the ¥1,000 note which is roughly equivalent to a $10 bill in the US.  So the fact that the Japanese use coins for the equivalent of our $1 and $5 bills means that you get a lot more change in coins here.  Change is called “O tsuri” (おつり) in Japanese and that is where the fun begins for me.  You see, as a kid I was a paperboy, which meant that I collected from my customers in cash every Thursday and so was constantly making change and could easily wind up with several pounds of coinage in my pocket as the route progressed.  After that I worked in a department store for a couple years and ran a cash register.  This was back in the late 60’s when people actually paid in cash and so I was constantly receiving cash and making change.  Anyway, as a result of all that I am really good at making change. 

Now, some of you may remember that “back in the day” it was common that if an amount ended in odd cents that the customer would often pay in such a way as to get back “even money.”  For those of you who have no idea of what I am talking about, say you buy something here for ¥471.  You can give the cashier one ¥500 coin and you will receive 7 coins in change. (2X¥10 + 1X¥5 + 4X¥1= total ¥29.  There are no “quarters” here)  But if you give the cashier ¥521 you will get 1, ¥50 coin in change.  It used to be that the cash registers didn’t do the math for you and it was actually kind of fun because it required some smarts on both ends of the transaction to make “even money” happen.  These days in the US this whole process is basically unknown.  You give the salesperson your money and the register calculates the change and sometimes even dispenses it to you.   Anyway, I’m good at making change and, for some reason, the Japanese, young and old, are also great change-makers.  Whether one shops at the local convenience store, vegetable stand or buys an obento lunch out of the back of some guy’s van most everyone you deal with has that skill and admires it in others.  If the transaction described above were actually to take place downstairs in the gift shop the clerk would most likely give you a knowing smile as she handed you your ¥50 coin.   Sometimes if I’m not really paying attention and just drop even money on the cashier she may politely ask if I have ¥?? so she can give me even money in change.  I have also had the store clerk fish through my proffered handful of coins to accomplish the same thing.  So next time you buy something at Starbucks work it so the kid can give you back even money and see if he “gets it.”  Or, just give him your Starbucks card!

Performance Metabolism

I have made much of my living onstage for the past 40 years and have certainly done several thousand performances as a musician and conductor.  As such, I have developed a sort of a routine that helps me get ready to perform.  Right now, it is noon and I have a 7pm concert tonight and there is some deep part of my brain that is preparing for the evening’s performance.  Humans prepare to perform in various ways.  Some throw up in their dressing rooms, others go play golf and seem to have not a care in the world.  For me it manifests itself as a slow drip of adrenaline into my system which feels like low-level anxiety.  Outwardly I don’t think there is any observable effect but inside it makes me a little irritable and intense. The feeling is not pleasant, but I know it well enough to recognize it for what it is.    Interestingly, the closer I get to actually walking onstage the calmer I feel and I usually even take a nap from 6-6:30 or so. Then I get up, do some stretching and other light activity to get my blood flowing and get dressed. I am fully aware that the opportunity to do this far exceeds my actual gifts so I offer a prayer of thanksgiving to God for blessing me in this way.  Then it’s showtime.

The Morning After

It is Monday morning and we are on the train traveling east towards Tokyo, from Kanazawa.  A misty rain is falling outside and we are threading our way through the mountains, past isolated small settlements of homes surrounded by rice paddies and gardens. We just completed a run of 3 successful concerts in 3 days and there is a sense of well-earned rest among the cast as we look forward to a couple of days off.

Our little troupe will spend the trip sleeping, listening to music and reading.

The beauty of this life is that there is a sense of completion.  A sort of cleansing sensation that something is truly “over” and there is nothing that needs to be done.  This is in contrast to real life where most things - marriage, children, health and finances to name but four - are never “finished” in any real sense.  They are managed but never done.  When a concert is over it is over - and that feels really good.

Wa Shoku

“Wa Shoku” is traditional Japanese food.  And you need to know that real, traditional Japanese food, like that eaten by Japanese people in places outside the cosmopolitan cities like Tokyo and Osaka, is nothing like anything you have ever eaten in the United States. Period. I was reminded of this again last night here in Kanazawa at the annual welcome dinner that my boss hosts each year at the beginning of the Japan tour.  I watched as course after befuddling course was set before a group of newbies who, although game to try new things, were given pause as they tried to puzzle out what the dish contained before consuming it. The presentation is beautiful, make no mistake about it.  But what is this bluish-black thumb-sized gelatinous thing that has just been set so artfully before me?  A small squid, as it turns out.  Or is it 2 small squid?  Hard to tell.  Are these potato sticks? No, deep-fried unagi spines.  This looks like some kind of soft walnut...Oh, fish testicles? Oh well, hakuna matata!

Of course, the Japanese are not above exploiting our squeamishness for their own amusement.  Today I was in Fukui doing TV promotion for a concert this weekend.  One of the talking points is always Japanese food and the locals were anxious to get my appraisal of their local delicacy called “heshiko” whereupon a small tray was presented to me which held 8-10 thin, brown anonymous slices. I grabbed the one with the toothpick in it, said “itdakimasu” (“let’s eat”) and stuck it in my mouth. Now, imagine if, when Lot’s wife was turned into a pillar of salt, that she had a mackerel in her hand.  That’s what that fish tasted like.  I commented that it would be great with rice, which received great approval.  Happily, I was given one as a gift which I will be bringing back to the States with me.    

Because of my tenure in Japan I have a hard-won reputation as a lover of Japanese cuisine.  This is simply because I think it is rude to reject someone’s hospitality.  In doing so you reject them and their culture.  To be sure, this approach has its challenges but the rewards are worth it.  So, to paraphrase Kipling, “If you can look at the silver-dollar sized whole octopus in your soup with tentacles frozen in its death frenzy and eat it while others are rejecting theirs, then you will be a man, my son!”

Drive My Car

There is a romantic notion that orchestra conductors are those individuals removed from the concerns of normal people and who wield their magical batons unfettered by any other considerations than that of their own genius.  In certain circles that may be the case but that has not been my experience.  My job as conductor is as a part of a web of interlacing relationships and responsibilities not unlike those of a modern era race car driver.  Auto racing is a team sport.  There is an owner who provides financial backing, engineers and mechanics who design, build and fine-tune the car.  Yes, eventually someone has to get behind the wheel and actually drive the car, but there is a strategy which has been developed beforehand and the driver is receiving instructions as he drives.    This is analogous to my work as the orchestra conductor for Disney on Classic.  I drive the car but this work is highly collaborative, not only with producers, musicians and singers but also lights and sound personnel and stage crew.  The Disney on Classic tour is a complex operation with as many people "behind the scenes” as there are on stage.

It Begins...

It Begins...

I arrived in Tokyo 2 weeks ago and have been through long rehearsals and had opening night last night.  This is year 12 of the Disney on Classic Tour and last night’s show, as near as I can figure, was #351 in the series.  This year we have 52 concerts in 30+ cities starting with 3 here in Tokyo this weekend. It is interesting to watch orchestra and singers, lighting and sound technicians, stage crew and all other support teams go about the business that we all know so well yet still find challenging and fun.  During rehearsal I may spend 6 hours (minus breaks) standing and waving my arms in front of the orchestra as we work our way through often very challenging music.  This is the grunt work that nobody outside ever sees but is essential if the tour is to be a success. The actual tour is a relief.  Every day is just enough different so that it keeps even those of us with short attentions spans enthused. I am the orchestra conductor which seems to mean that everyone is my boss.  This is much like being a preacher and receiving pointers on your sermon from everyone and their brother.  I will be posting tour updates from time to time here as time progresses.  So you have been warned...