Do and Jutsu: the Way and Art of Music

Note: "Do" is pronounced "doe" as in the female deer, not "dew." 

A while back on this blog, I mused on my experiences in martial arts. I still love the systems of movement and thought that are involved in studying a fighting art. However, there are greater lessons--other than just how to fight another entity--to be learned. Two overarching philosophies that govern martial arts are Do and Jutsu (find a reasonable, and typical, discussion on the topic here). Recently they've returned to the fore of my consciousness, but with respect to music.

It is times like these / when I wish I understood / Japanese better.

To roughly define, the symbol "Do" is "the way" or the philosophy while "Jutsu" is "the method" or the art, science, or practice. In other words, Do is the the thought process while Jitsu is the activity. The Karate master Chosin Chibana (1885-1969) said succinctly that "Do without Jutsu is pointless." What martial artists muse (or should muse) on, though, is how we can apply the principles we learn in the study of fighting to our lives. I'm not just talking about how I might survive a knife attack in a seedy back alley, but how to conduct myself on a daily basis, how to face adversaries that are not necessarily violent or even human. As a corollary to Master Chibana, we could also state that you can't have Jutsu without Do (as Dave Lowry does in his excellent book The Karate Way). In other words, the mechanics are meaningless (and potentially dangerous) without a philosophy to temper it.

As I write this, it occurs to me that trying to describe the "difference" between Do and Jutsu is like trying to describe the difference between various shades of gray. It's also like trying to compare an apple and a pear when they're mixed together in a fruit salad. Martial arts practitioners often align themselves more with one than the other, but the concepts are inevitably intertwined in a fighting art. They are impossible to separate. And so it goes with music.

I've been teaching piano lessons now for about 3 years to folks of all ages. For kids, we of course start simple--a finger or two on each hand, then add more notes, then add symbols and dynamics and phrasing. As the music gets more complicated, we introduce "theory." In jazz music, the theory becomes a consuming pass time. We learn scales, chords, scale extensions, alternative voicings, chord substitutions, modes, and methods for improvisation. This practice, this theory, is the jutsu. Many people all over the world are very good at the practical matters of music, and it takes many hours of repetition and study to become so.

But we also learn to listen. We pay attention to the way the masters phrase their musical thoughts, and the scales, chords, or notes they use. We listen to each other, for spaces where we might throw in a little flourish, for our proper dynamic level to make the ensemble better. We try new things. We fail, we try again. We practice instead of watching TV or going out on a Friday night. We go to rehearsals. We pack expensive gear into the back of a cheap car and drive to a gig. We sometimes play for free. All of these activities are part of the Do, part of being connected to other human beings through an esoteric and spiritual process. It is no wonder to me that music is a part of church worship, regardless of denomination. Music takes thoughts and places them on a higher plane.

I love playing music outdoors. Here I am, in a photo taken by my wife, playing my Mom's guitar at my cousin's wedding in Idaho in 2005.

While the spiritual side of music is definitely present, I can't tell you how many people become technically proficient at an instrument--whether through piano lessons or school band or whatever--and don't stick with it. Maybe they enjoy it, but something else pushes it aside. I blame that on the de-emphasis of the emotional side of music. I have talked to so many people who said, "I used to play music, but I quit to do something else." Others tell me, "I wish I'd never quit." Why did they? I would argue that they didn't embrace the "Do." They were told music is a hobby, not a viable career option. It wasn't "cool." I don't know all the reasons. I do know that these thoughts have gone through my head, and, as a result, I'm not a career musician (I'm a chemist, if you don't already know). I played in a college jazz band for 4 years, accompanied a vocal jazz group for 2 years, and have played in various other "extra-curricular" groups since I was in high school. I currently play in 2 bands and teach lessons to students of all ages. Despite pushing through graduate school and pursuing a career in science, I've never quit playing as it allows me to attempt to express what I'm feeling and sometimes burn off a little steam if I need to. Devoted musical pursuit isn't for everyone, sure. But I'd say that, in many cases, people learn the technical proficiency on an instrument but fail to embrace the emotional or conversational aspects of the art. If you have an emotional connection, you will stick with it. You will practice the Justu and embrace the Do.

Another outdoor gig, this time at Fuller Lodge in 2013. I'm pretty sure local "man about town" Skip Wecksung took this one.

And what is music-Do? It is exploring the expressiveness of music. It is allowing us to feel comfort that is sometimes unattainable by our interactions with people. It is conveying emotions without words. It is transcending cultural and language barriers. It is practicing past the point of hitting the right notes. It is the quest for the long line, or the most profound passage. It is the greater enlightenment that occurs when everything falls into place, when you are past thinking and on to feeling, when your fingers play the notes without your brain. It is also love. If you have embraced something in your life that you look forward to every day, that, even when working through a difficult piece, you enjoy the journey, if the joy of playing comes through with the technical proficiency, then Do is practiced.

Thanks for reading!