Part percussion, part performance art, and all-around work out, Taiko drumming plays an integral part in the University’s worldly approach to the study of music. Thanks to Taiko Ensemble Coach and teacher, Mark Rooney, the University’s Taiko program has gone from a small student forum to one of campus’s most highly sought after classes in his four years here. Now in his last semester at Wesleyan, Rooney talked with The Argus about his interest in Taiko, the competitive audition process for his classes, and his future plans.

The Argus: How did you first become interested in Taiko?
Mark Rooney: I saw Taiko at a festival in Massachusetts, near where I grew up. It was a very powerful experience to see. Being half-Japanese it was also a strong calling to discover a little bit of my roots. So, I started taking workshops and classes. Then I became an apprentice and started performing. I really dedicated myself to it.

A: When did you decide you wanted to teach Taiko?
MR: Very early on. I’m embarrassed to say that I started teaching Taiko when I had only been playing for a year and a half. In retrospect, I didn’t know anything about what I was talking about. But, given the shortage of experienced Taiko players in the area, I knew a lot more than most people. I always had a great interest in the process of teaching it and learning it.

A: How is Taiko different than other types of drumming?
MR: I have to admit a certain amount of ignorance about other types of drumming. I’ve never played any percussion outside of Taiko. I’ve played other instruments, but Taiko is my first and only percussion instrument. The thing I’d say that is most remarkable about Taiko is that it’s loud. It’s really louder than anything else. All percussion requires a certain amount of stamina and physical presence to play, but in Taiko, it’s almost as if that is the main focus, and the drumming is incidental. Taiko rhythms themselves are not that complicated—it’s the techniques that are very hard to master.

A: When did the Introduction to Taiko class start?
MR: This class started as a student forum in 2006, and at the time there were around twelve students who were interested and everyone who was interested took it. The first semester that this was an actual class [Fall 2007] there was a class size of 20 and 37 people auditioned. I let everyone in, and that was a huge mistake. The quality of teaching with that many people really diminishes. I learned my lesson from that semester. I love teaching people Taiko, and if I could, I would just have three classes and teach everyone. But as much as I want to, I really have to keep it to 20 people so that I can teach them well.

A: It’s clearly a very competitive class to get into, so what is the audition process like?
MR: I never anticipated the level of competition to get in. I get, on average, about 40 to 60 people who audition every semester. I hate the process of auditioning on both sides. I hate being the person auditioning, because I know how terrifying that is. And I hate being on the other side and having to decide who gets into this class. If 50 people audition, there will be five people I’m going to look at and see that they have something that would make them great Taiko players. There will be five people I’ll look at where there’s a good chance they’ll never be able to play Taiko. That means 40 people fall somewhere in the middle.

A: How do you judge the students in the middle?
MR: The elements I’m looking for are not just a sense of rhythm, but more importantly a sense of movement. The movement speaks to technique, and if it takes a long time for someone to encompass movement into the way they drum, it’s going to take a long time for them to learn the techniques. Beyond that, I’m just looking at people’s general energy and attitude in the audition. When I see people who approach it with a certain openness and enthusiasm—that speaks well about them. But in the end, I’m seeing people drum for, on average, 30 seconds. Over time, I’ve developed a very critical eye, and 95 percent of the time I can tell when someone’s going to be able to pick it up easily.

A: Do you ever worry you made the wrong decisions?
MR: I absolutely second-guess myself afterwards, and I get e-mails from people all the time who say they don’t agree with my assessment. Immediately after I feel incredibly guilt. And then inevitably the next time I’m on campus I’ll see every single person who didn’t make it. But at some point I just have to trust myself.

A: What is the general format for the introductory class?
MR: The advanced students are responsible for making sure the new students learn the songs. This has become one of the greatest successes of having the two classes. I’m able to teach more people, and I’m able to teach more advanced lessons, but it also sets up automatically this very culturally Japanese system, where the more advanced students help teach the newer students. We get so much more done since we set this up. I almost never teach the actual songs to the intro class. I teach the techniques, the cultural background, the philosophies, modern Taiko, and the evolution of Taiko in North America.

A: What is the difference between the advanced class and the introductory class?
MR: The advanced class studies various styles of playing Taiko and the intro class sticks with one primary style. So they need to be able to change their playing, and they need to be flexible. I have them audition by playing on a slanted stand. This to me is one of the hardest styles I’ve had to play. It’s very asymmetrical. I look for people who are able to adjust their body mechanics to an entirely new experience.

A: What other Taiko groups are you involved with outside of Wesleyan?
MR: I’m the artistic director for Odaiko New England out of Boston. We’re a semiprofessional group, so we perform very often. On average we probably do 100 to 110 shows a year. We do a lot of school outreach, cultural festivals, and weddings.

A:Bar-Mitzvahs?
MR: Yeah, we played one of those too. I also play with a New York based group, Taikoza. They tour a lot in Europe, so I tour with them sometimes when they need extra hands.

A: Which do you prefer: teaching or playing in a group of professionals?
MR: Teaching. I do like performing; I’m a showman by nature and I’m comfortable on a stage. But really by far, I find that teaching is much more rewarding. The process of teaching teaches you so much about how you play. When you have to think about it and break it down, then you realize all the things you’re doing wrong. The people and the ways in which you have to interact are just incredible.

A: Will you stay involved in the Taiko program here after you leave?
MR: I’m sure I’ll be back to teach workshops and drop in to make sure these guys are still playing well. I’m also trying to hook them up with another teacher so that the program can continue.

A: What has been your favorite part of working here?
MR: The students. I don’t really have anything to compare it to because I’ve never taught at another college. But I feel like there’s an openness and a characteristic that I’ve found across the board with all the students I’ve worked with here where the students are really encouraged to try something different. Outside of the degree they’re trying to get, they’re encouraged to really explore something new. If there’s anyway I can figure it out before I leave, I want to do a workshop that anyone can take. I think everyone should have the experience. It’s a dream of mine to make Taiko accessible to everyone.

A: Since this is your last semester at Wesleyan, what are your plans for the future? Do you want to continue teaching?
MR: I’m hoping to. This experience has really inspired me to want to teach at a collegiate level. Experience wise, I’m probably qualified. But academically, I don’t have a degree in this to officially designate me as a Taiko teacher. This is a really hard thing to leave. I drive two and a half hours down and two and a half hours back every Friday, and it’s still the best day of my week.