Philly Fringe 2020: Casual Fifth presents ‘Taiko and Dance’

The power of drums

I first heard of taiko when I lived in Boston. I would pass a studio that conducted classes, and would stop to observe this unfamiliar performance, mesmerized by the booming, rhythmic patterns of the drumming and powerful, yet fluid, movement. Historically in Japan, taiko was used in military and ceremonial arenas, and eventually evolved into a performance art.

The opening piece of Taiko and Dance, “Miyake,” is taiko derived from the island of Miyake-jima, made famous by the influential taiko troupe Kodo, according to Japan’s Miyake Taiko School. This segment, filmed in Swarthmore College’s primordial-looking outdoor amphitheater, is the most moving of the three parts due to the physical and emotional commitment of the performers (Joe Small, Evans, and Pfister). Shooting each segment of Taiko and Dance in nature adds mysticism, as well as some necessary cohesion, to the program.

Dance break

As someone who had trouble following the directions to “Macarena” at middle-school dances, I have a profound respect for what dancers are able to convey through their movement. The second part of the program, “The Shades,” is a series of modern-dance solos based on Auguste Rodin’s The Three Shades.

This work-in-progress, choreographed by world-renowned dancer, choreographer, and educator Jim May, was a necessary palate cleanser in between the electrifying taiko performances. May, with patient yet deliberate extensions, glides dreamlike along Boxer’s Trail in Fairmount Park. Pfister performs the segment’s second piece, “Remember (Subconscious),” and though the movement is graceful, it lacks intimacy, relying too much on the scenic Boathouse Gazebo in FDR Park.

Seen, heard, and felt

The finale, “Lion Chant,” (performed by Small, Evans, Pfister, and Yoko Nakahash) infuses taiko with Balinese movement and chanting, known as Kecak, and Shihimai, or Japanese Lion Dance. The technical inadequacies of the digital format are evident during this ambitious piece. The shots under the arch could have been framed with more care, and the distinct tones of each drum are lost in shoddy audio. As music is a focal point of this production, a sound designer would have elevated the musicality of these pieces, resulting in more clarity and vigor.

It feels unfair yet unavoidable to compare virtual and in-person performances. Taiko is not only something to be heard and seen, but to be felt reverberating in your body—an experience we just have to imagine for the time being. I commend Casual Fifth for blending art forms, and am grateful for the diversity they added to this year’s line-up. But ultimately, technical limitations and the lack of a narrative through-line result in three compelling pieces that feel disconnected and leave me wanting more.

Image description: Three taiko drummers sit next to their drums, spaced widely on the large stone tiers of an outdoor amphitheater.