This past weekend was a busy one for shakuhachi stuff. And for driving! I did a great deal of driving to/from Rochester. On Saturday I had a shakuhachi lesson with Ronnie Seldin at the Rochester dojo. We worked on the next section of the piece “Shintakasago.” I found myself frequently getting lost in the score while Ronnie and I played this music together. That seems to be normal for me, this getting lost in the score. Although I read the kinko-ryu notation, I can’t say that I read it really fluently, so that as I’m reading it and playing sometimes there is a little delay where I have to think about a certain notated phrase on the page before I can play it, and of course even a delay of a split-second can throw you off the track when you are playing at a fairly brisk tempo. So we had stop a few times for Ronnie to point out where we were in the score. We also talked quite a bit about my longstanding problems with being able to play meri notes properly.
The next day I drove back up to Rochester AGAIN, for another lesson, this time from visiting shakuhachi master Yoshio Kurahashi. This lesson took place in a different location from the usual Rochester dojo. Kurahashi taught at the home of one of the Rochester shakuhachi students named Scott. Scott’s house is amazing. It’s one of the most beautiful houses I’ve ever seen. I thought it looked like Frank Lloyd Wright’s style, and later on after the lesson I looked it up on the internet and found that, sure enough, this house is one of Frank Lloyd Wright’s creations, known by Wright fans as the “Edward E. Boynton house.” I arrived a little bit early for my lesson, as is my wont, and observed Kurahashi teaching another student before me. I was fascinated by Kurahashi’s playing, which was incredibly deft. His music had an extraordinary quality to it, bursting with energy and also very peaceful at the same time. It was quite inspiring just to hear him play.
When the time came for my lesson I was very nervous, but Kurahashi was patient with me. He asked what I’ve been working on, so I told him about the three beginning sankyoku pieces that I’ve been practicing the past few months. 
He asked what I’d like to play and I said “Kurokami,” which is the first sankyoku piece I ever started working on. He and I played it through together. I lost my place in the score a couple of times, but Kurahashi patiently brought me back to the place where we left off, and we resumed without further ado. After we finished playing this piece Kurahashi spent several minutes explaining the correct method for holding the shakuhachi, and for playing the meri notes. I found this instruction to be quite helpful, and it gave me a whole new way of looking at my shakuhachi practice technique. In fact it made me feel much more hopeful about my practice (I had been going through a long period in which I’d been feeling frustrated and discouraged about my practice). He also talked in more general terms about my practice strategy and about the kinds of goals I should be working toward in my practice. Throughout the whole lesson he was very kind and patient.
I thought that Kurahashi’s lesson was very helpful and I found the man himself to be a delightful person. I like him very much and I hope I’ll have a chance to meet with him again sometime.
