Food for Thought

Tomoko knows the value of food, both in her professional and personal life.

In Japan, where Tomoko was born, food has ceremonial importance, starting almost from birth. About a hundred days after a child is born, families celebrate with the ceremony of okuizome. Parents buy black dishes, and serve they baby with the wish of abundance of food throughout her life. At baby’s first birthday, there is a usually a red-and-white birthday rice cake. P:arents also have the baby walk and carry four pounds of mochi (a sticky rice cake, which is a sacred food in Shintoism) in a little bag on her back to wish food, health and harmony – even when one is burdened in life.

Speaking of burden, food had a heavy meaning for Tomoko as she was growing up in Japan in war time. Food was rationed, and people had to be creative to find ways to cook with the food that was available, even grasshoppers. They would also grow their own food to deal with food shortages. After the war, when the U.S. shipped food to Japan, people still experienced shortages. People at that time were more anxious about food than politics.

So it is no surprise that Tomoko values food. She provides yummy food at home and knows how to choose a good restaurant based on its food. And she has great taste.

As part of preparing for her recitals, Tomoko likes to have food as part of the event. Her students’ families and Tomoko’s friends bring wonderful dishes and beverages. The smorgasbord of food reflects the many cultures of the families: it is a global potluck. 

And music is food for the soul. It fills humanity’s emotional and psychological needs. Tomoko provides for both kinds of food. And we all benefit from her expertise and care.

Music as Food for the Soul

               If you attend a recital planned by Tomoko, you will find that it is a bountiful event. Her recitals reflect a strong sense of community and of giving. All the performers give their all as they try to respect the composer, and give life to the composition. The audience are both lovers of music and friends of Tomoko and the performers.

               Long before the recital comes to life, Tomoko has carefully planted the seeds. As in a good banquet, she chooses the piano pieces based on the performers, and she looks for a stimulating balance of the various compositions. She looks for complementary textures that play off each other, without overloading the sensory experience.

Tomoko also integrates families and friends into the recital planning. They provide food and flowers, produce the playbill, manage set-up and clean-up, and often record the performance for later enjoyment and analysis.

On the day of the recital, people may arrive hours ahead in order to set up the welcoming area, and bring in refreshments. Tomoko graciously greets them, and like a conductor, helps each of them to play their role. Of course, Tomoko’s main focus are the performers and their instruments. She gives last-minute comments, and lets her students take center stage.  The performers and audience all aim for the same goal: to appreciate great music.  To experience its bounty.

The music lingers on in everyone’s memory, and that sense of musical togetherness echoes as tables of food are shared. Music is indeed food for the soul, and recitals make that experience indeed a sensual banquet of life.

Keeping In Touch

               The holidays provide wonderful opportunities to keep in touch. Music offers another rich set of ways to connect with each other. Tomoko takes advantage of these many options.

               Tomoko’s students have stayed in touch with her over the fifty years that she has taught, sending her letters of appreciation, as well as bringing their children to become Tomoko’s students. They have not only attended her recitals, but have also recorded them to share with their friends. On her part, Tomoko has invited her students, both past and present, to perform at the recitals that she plans. She even performs along side them in compelling duets.

               As a professional pianist, Tomoko has used music as a way to “break the ice” in new situations, using the universal language of music to make connections and start friendships. “My English was not so good, so the music spoke for me,” she recalls. Likewise, Tomoko continues her professional associations by performing with her musician colleagues, and corresponding with them. More than once her musical friends have connected Tomoko with their own children, visiting at home or writing to keep in touch.

               In each formal performance, Tomoko connects with her audience through her interpretation of the music she performs. She serves as a translator between the composer and the listener, capturing the intent of the composition and expressing it intellectually, emotionally and kinesthetically.

               A recital, concert or other musical event also enables people to connect with each other because of the music. It is both a personal and communal experience. When the audience is asked to join in the music, be it in song or dance, they contribute substantially to that connectedness.

               And even without direct contact, Tomoko connects with her associates and students through the performances she has recorded – and her own memory. She says, “I can remember the pieces I gave the students 40 years ago.”

               This season may everyone keep in touch through music. It helps to make a harmonious world.

Mutual Responsibility

Learning to play the piano, and performing, depend to a great degree on responsibility: to one’s self, to one’s teacher, to one’s relatives and friends, to one’s peers, to the composer, and to the audience.

The first responsibility is to one’s self. “I interview every student before I decide to accept being that person’s teacher,” says Tomoko. Does that person want to learn? Do they seem like to want to make the effort? She continues, “If you say you are going to take lessons, you are taking on the responsibility onto yourself; it is not your parents’ responsibility.”

Especially if a parent pays for the lessons or buys the piano, that person expects that the learner will honor that parent’s support. “You are responsible for your own progress,” asserts Tomoko. “It is up to you to make sure that you practice every day, with conscious intent.” Tomoko knows that such responsibility can be hard, especially when there is a difficult part of the piece. “Be steadfast, and think step by step,” advises Tomoko, “rather than looking at the mountain top, and feeling overwhelmed.” 

“It is also your responsibility to tell the teacher when you have problems with a piece,” says Tomoko. “That is the teacher’s responsibility. She has the expertise to know where the potential stumbling blocks are, and how to overcome them.” The teacher and the student are on the same “team,” working together responsibly to help the student master the piece. 

At a recital, one’s peers also depend on each other to perform to the best of their ability, and to support each other’s efforts. That is acting as a responsible performer, and that responsibility extends to the audience, in that the performer is responsible for trying to provide an enjoyable musical experience. "The audience also has a responsibility to be respectful of the performer," reminds Tomoko, "The performer cannot control how they feel."

And, in the final analysis, there is a responsibility to the composer: to play according to the intent of the composer, to respect his or her musical creation. 

It sounds – and is – a lot of responsibility, but one grows from such responsibility, and can be proud of their efforts. "Responsibility is a very important human value," concludes Tomoko.