SHO CHKU BAI
A better beginning to the New Year I could not have planned. Settling into the new place in Brooklyn is taking a small toll on my work ethic. I realize that in the space of 6 months, I have moved 4 times. Stability being something of a constant issue with me, I strive to regain my routine again. Moving throws a huge rubber dildo into the gears of my sanity. I will do better. I must do better.
Showed up for tech rehearsal directly after work. The MARITIME once upon an era was known as the Phoenix House, a halfway home for runaways. Now it serves the overwealthy. Poetic. They hadn't even lit the stairs yet so we made our way precariously into the pitch black staircase and into the cavernlike dimness of the restaurant. Chic places are attracted to unlit sub levels. Once inside, however, I found the decor at MATSURI to be sublime, a masterfully designed space of equal refinement and Japanese authenticity. No sign of kitsch. Huge white paper lanterns hung on dark wooden rafters, the napkins were cotton-dyed tenugui and when TAIKO MASALA set their drums down on what would become our makeshift "stage", it looked like they were replacing something that had always been there.
The kitchen staff had just begun setting up when we arrived so there wasn't much time or room to rehearse. We went through the motions of each dance and found the space to be cramped but negligible when unoccupied. This was discouraging taking into account we would be dealing with a congested floor of drunk and possibly rowdy party-goers. Anything goes, Tomas said. We let all planned formations flap feebly in the breeze. Find a space to dance and dance in it.
After rehearsal, I had dinner with Takuto. The puppy will be leaving for Japan soon and this saddens me just for the range of comical faces he makes when he gets emotional which is a natural talent of the under 25 crowd. I went back to the Rock briefly to wash my hair and then we set back out into the cold to arrive at MATSURI well before meet-up time.
The underwear models at the door were confused by us at first as they hadn't gotten the memo that there would be dancers at this event. I felt bad for them as the place was already alive and hopping and here were two unexpected somethings before them.
After a brief discussion with the manager, we were allowed to bow and duck our way across the dining room and to the kitchen, dodging the super-quick and harried waitstaff on the way. We got more than one baffled "May I help you?" as we tried to gain access. I felt weird. I've never just strolled into a professional kitchen before, let alone one as high volume as this. We wandered deeper into the bowels behind the scenes, ignoring multiple "DO NOT ENTER" and "PLEASE KEEP CLOSED" signs until we found the busboys' cafeteria and collapsed. There was no place to change so we just had the men avert their eyes while we got into our costumes and put on our makeup.
"Oh, you look like adult girl." Takuto said as I whipped out my mirror to dab on some foundation.
"Adult girl?" I grinned.
"Yes." Takuto never balks at his own enigmatic phrasing. "You seem more girl, no-- woman when you put on the makeup."
"You too, dude." I said, handing him my Ipod to distract him. He didn't listen to it, just occupied himself with pressing the buttons. Boys.
Eventually the other members arrived. Hastily we lined eyes and lips in slashes and dabs of smudged pinks, deep red, black and white. The runny liquid liner really burns my eyes every time I use it. I tend to think the shape of my face lends itself more to a doll or a Columbine than the intended oni or kabuki mask of my comrades. The men's makeup is a bit more complicated as they have to draw dramatic orangey-red and white designs on their faces, not just the eyes. Ace did a striking job on his.
Due to lack of space, Hiro once again did not participate with us but he was up in the 2nd floor balcony/bar taking professional and elegantly timed photos which I am sure he will share once his diva self gets through touching them up and making them all shmancy. As taichou, Hiro's usual place is on the sidelines perched on his box, keeping time with his hands. Sometimes he brings his drum. Soldiers should be allowed to sit, even slight and mischievious ones.
The house was impossibly packed and already well into the toxic stages of profoundly sexy when we made our way back up through the kitchen. TAIKO MASALA was there, waiting to begin the countdown. At a signal from Tomas, we gathered on "stage" naruko at the ready.
10, 9, 8, 7...
HAPPY NEW YEAR and we shook our naruko as though we were getting paid.
I was a little wary because our performance area was surrounded by tables and meddlesome drunk people. To their credit, most of them remained respectfully seated. Directly after countdown, TAIKO MASALA delivered a soulful taiko rendition of Stevie Wonder's SUPERSTITION and then, with our announcement, we were on. The drums rumbled low. We lined up and assumed the position.
"DO KOI SHO!"
Yocchore is a high energy festival dance that involves timed jumps and big arm movements. As I was placed at the very end of the line perilously close to the diners, I was mindful not to injure anyone seated within inches of my flailing. Fat, plaid-blazer asshat was not seated so he was subjected to the full fury of merry abuse. Yeah, he was drunk so I really can't complain but we all worked really hard to be there and the last thing I needed was some troglodyte getting in my way. Dude was trying to dance with us and break into the line so I just kept on smiling and not apologizing or slowing down every time I caught him with one of my fists.
But that was the only sour note...
We went on right after countdown which, in hindsight, set the tone for the right amount of giddy energy our dances typically invoke. We managed to execute all three despite rowdy conditions, limited space and quick alterations. The crowd LOVED us! Everyone was really feeling our vibe and when we took our final bow, I heard shouts of "Encore!" and "Mooore!" particularly from the enthusiastic sushi bar workers who were all Japanese and working harder than we.
"Nee, sushi choudai?" I joked with one of them.
"Ageru wa!" one said. "Come here, I'll give you some for another dance!"
"But then you have to give some to all my friends."
Much as I would have loved to collect on such a princely fee for one extra jig (MATSURI sushi is as elegant and expensive as the rest of it), we were soon herded back down below with the rest of the kitchen staff and had beer and fried chicken with the busboys. In all, a more perfect evening I could not have planned.
HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL! KOTOSHI MO YOROSHIKU ONEGAI SHIMASU!
Showed up for tech rehearsal directly after work. The MARITIME once upon an era was known as the Phoenix House, a halfway home for runaways. Now it serves the overwealthy. Poetic. They hadn't even lit the stairs yet so we made our way precariously into the pitch black staircase and into the cavernlike dimness of the restaurant. Chic places are attracted to unlit sub levels. Once inside, however, I found the decor at MATSURI to be sublime, a masterfully designed space of equal refinement and Japanese authenticity. No sign of kitsch. Huge white paper lanterns hung on dark wooden rafters, the napkins were cotton-dyed tenugui and when TAIKO MASALA set their drums down on what would become our makeshift "stage", it looked like they were replacing something that had always been there.
The kitchen staff had just begun setting up when we arrived so there wasn't much time or room to rehearse. We went through the motions of each dance and found the space to be cramped but negligible when unoccupied. This was discouraging taking into account we would be dealing with a congested floor of drunk and possibly rowdy party-goers. Anything goes, Tomas said. We let all planned formations flap feebly in the breeze. Find a space to dance and dance in it.
After rehearsal, I had dinner with Takuto. The puppy will be leaving for Japan soon and this saddens me just for the range of comical faces he makes when he gets emotional which is a natural talent of the under 25 crowd. I went back to the Rock briefly to wash my hair and then we set back out into the cold to arrive at MATSURI well before meet-up time.
The underwear models at the door were confused by us at first as they hadn't gotten the memo that there would be dancers at this event. I felt bad for them as the place was already alive and hopping and here were two unexpected somethings before them.
After a brief discussion with the manager, we were allowed to bow and duck our way across the dining room and to the kitchen, dodging the super-quick and harried waitstaff on the way. We got more than one baffled "May I help you?" as we tried to gain access. I felt weird. I've never just strolled into a professional kitchen before, let alone one as high volume as this. We wandered deeper into the bowels behind the scenes, ignoring multiple "DO NOT ENTER" and "PLEASE KEEP CLOSED" signs until we found the busboys' cafeteria and collapsed. There was no place to change so we just had the men avert their eyes while we got into our costumes and put on our makeup.
"Oh, you look like adult girl." Takuto said as I whipped out my mirror to dab on some foundation.
"Adult girl?" I grinned.
"Yes." Takuto never balks at his own enigmatic phrasing. "You seem more girl, no-- woman when you put on the makeup."
"You too, dude." I said, handing him my Ipod to distract him. He didn't listen to it, just occupied himself with pressing the buttons. Boys.
Eventually the other members arrived. Hastily we lined eyes and lips in slashes and dabs of smudged pinks, deep red, black and white. The runny liquid liner really burns my eyes every time I use it. I tend to think the shape of my face lends itself more to a doll or a Columbine than the intended oni or kabuki mask of my comrades. The men's makeup is a bit more complicated as they have to draw dramatic orangey-red and white designs on their faces, not just the eyes. Ace did a striking job on his.
Due to lack of space, Hiro once again did not participate with us but he was up in the 2nd floor balcony/bar taking professional and elegantly timed photos which I am sure he will share once his diva self gets through touching them up and making them all shmancy. As taichou, Hiro's usual place is on the sidelines perched on his box, keeping time with his hands. Sometimes he brings his drum. Soldiers should be allowed to sit, even slight and mischievious ones.
The house was impossibly packed and already well into the toxic stages of profoundly sexy when we made our way back up through the kitchen. TAIKO MASALA was there, waiting to begin the countdown. At a signal from Tomas, we gathered on "stage" naruko at the ready.
10, 9, 8, 7...
HAPPY NEW YEAR and we shook our naruko as though we were getting paid.
I was a little wary because our performance area was surrounded by tables and meddlesome drunk people. To their credit, most of them remained respectfully seated. Directly after countdown, TAIKO MASALA delivered a soulful taiko rendition of Stevie Wonder's SUPERSTITION and then, with our announcement, we were on. The drums rumbled low. We lined up and assumed the position.
"DO KOI SHO!"
Yocchore is a high energy festival dance that involves timed jumps and big arm movements. As I was placed at the very end of the line perilously close to the diners, I was mindful not to injure anyone seated within inches of my flailing. Fat, plaid-blazer asshat was not seated so he was subjected to the full fury of merry abuse. Yeah, he was drunk so I really can't complain but we all worked really hard to be there and the last thing I needed was some troglodyte getting in my way. Dude was trying to dance with us and break into the line so I just kept on smiling and not apologizing or slowing down every time I caught him with one of my fists.
But that was the only sour note...
We went on right after countdown which, in hindsight, set the tone for the right amount of giddy energy our dances typically invoke. We managed to execute all three despite rowdy conditions, limited space and quick alterations. The crowd LOVED us! Everyone was really feeling our vibe and when we took our final bow, I heard shouts of "Encore!" and "Mooore!" particularly from the enthusiastic sushi bar workers who were all Japanese and working harder than we.
"Nee, sushi choudai?" I joked with one of them.
"Ageru wa!" one said. "Come here, I'll give you some for another dance!"
"But then you have to give some to all my friends."
Much as I would have loved to collect on such a princely fee for one extra jig (MATSURI sushi is as elegant and expensive as the rest of it), we were soon herded back down below with the rest of the kitchen staff and had beer and fried chicken with the busboys. In all, a more perfect evening I could not have planned.
HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL! KOTOSHI MO YOROSHIKU ONEGAI SHIMASU!