Thanks to the indefatigable Wikipedia, I can report that the shakuhachi is a Japanese end-blown flute which is held vertically like a recorder instead of held transversely like the Western flute. It was used by the monks of the Fuke sect of Zen Buddhism in the practice of Suizen (blowing meditation). The name shakuhachi means "one foot eight," the standard length of a shakuhachi. Other shakuhachi vary in length from about 1.3 shaku up to 3.3 shaku (the longer the shakuhachi, the lower its tuning). Although the sizes differ, they are all still referred to generically as "shakuhachi."

Fuke monks, known as komuso ("priests of nothingness"), used the shakuhachi as a spiritual tool. Their songs were paced according to the players' breathing and were considered meditation as much as music (suizen). During the medieval period, travel around Japan was restricted by the shogunate, but the Fuke sect managed to wrangle an exemption, since their spiritual practice required them to move from place to place playing the shakuhachi and begging for alms. In return, some were sometimes required to spy for the shogunate, and the Shogun sent several of his own spies out in the guise of Fuke monks as well. This was made easier by the baskets that the Fuke wore over their heads, a symbol of their detachment from the world. In response to these developments, several particularly difficult shakuhachi pieces became well-known as "tests:" if you could play them, you were a real Fuke. If you couldn't, you were probably a spy and might very well be killed on the spot if you were in unfriendly territory. This no doubt helped drive the Fuke sect to the technical excellence for which they were renowned.

Kohachiro Miyata, one of the most prominent members of Ensemble Nipponia, is a modern master of the shakuhachi. Mr. Miyata has been selected as one of the few to participate in each of the Ensemble's overseas tours, and is noted for his playing of contemporary as well as traditional music. His recital programs are typically devoted equally to both repertories.

The sound of the shakuhachi is also featured in western genres of music, including jazz and rock, especially after becoming a preset "instrument" on various synthesizers and keyboards beginning in the 1980s. Electronic shakuhachi sounds can be heard in Tangerine Dream's Sequent C (from the album Phaedra, 1974), Peter Gabriel's Sledgehammer (So, 1986), Roger Waters' Me Or Him (Radio K.A.O.S., 1987), The Sugarcubes' Pump (Here Today, Tomorrow, Next Week!, 1989), Enigma'a Sadeness - Principles Of Lust, Part 1 (MCMXC a.D. - 1990), and even Michael Bolton's Can I Touch You... There? (Greatest Hits, 1995) and Linkin Park's Nobody's Listening (Meteora, 2003)

Tonight, my friend Nick and I followed up on last week's recording with another piece, which I'm calling Shakuhachi Loop. Instead of using a simulated, electronic shakuhachi, we made loops out of some of Mr. Miyata's actual playing, and piled them up one over the other.

We had exchanged emails over the week discussing the concept of using gongs and loops of shakuhachi playing. When I first stopped by, we talked about loops, the musician Steve Reich, and my first experience hearing the shakuhachi at a lecture by a visiting Zen master. All of these concepts wound up in the composition we later created, although it didn't exactly sound like what I had expected. While we had set the control for somewhere near Kyoto, it sounds like we landed somewhere outside of Istanbul.

The piece starts off with some percussion, and the first loop is added a few moments later. When the second loop is added, it becomes the melody and the first loop sequence essentially becomes the "bass" line. After the second gong, we added some more percussion and a few more layers of looping shakuhachi, and then deconstructed the whole thing by pulling out layers one at a time.

I hope you like it. It's a much less traditional piece than last week's Shokaistan, but I don't think so "out there" as to be off-putting. Most of the sounds on the piece, other than Mr. Miyata's playing, are Nick - my only audible contribution is the chiming bell sound in the first three quarters - but it was a truly collaborative composition (as in, "Hey, what would it sound like if we tried this?").

Don't expect these little songs to be a weekly feature of this blog, at least in the near future. Next weekend, I've got to lead a Zen hike over Tooni Mountain to the Taccoa River, and after that Nick's got a wedding to go to in Chicago, and before you know it, it will be Fourth of July. However, Nick kindly shared with me some of the software and tools that we used to create these sounds, so depending on how I fare on the learning curve, I might begin churning out some compositions of my own. But without Nick's musical abilities, it might be a long while before I can produce something else worth sharing with the world.