Japanese Madaké Bamboo for Shakuhachi: A trip into the Grove

japan-bamboo-shakuhachi-harvest-jon-kypros
My favorite photo from my Madaké bamboo harvesting trip to Nara Japan, 2020

For decades I’ve been harvesting Madaké bamboo across many groves, hunting for the perfect pieces to craft into shakuhachi. Each time I step into these towering emerald cathedrals I transcend time and place. I’m dwarfed by bamboo giants which stand as living testaments to life’s resilience on Earth. Potential shakuhachi sway around me, vibrant and alive, yet their eight-year lifespan is a profound reminder of transience.

The Spirit of Bamboo in Shakuhachi

Observing living Madaké bamboo reveals how the shakuhachi embodies its essence. For example, we hold the instrument upright with roots facing down which mirrors bamboo’s natural growth. With no small effort, bamboo generously offers us an infinite variety of shakuhachi. I invite you to accompany me into the grove as I share the wonders of this remarkable grass. I’ll reveal both the ‘how’ and ‘why’ shakuhachi makers like me utilize it.

Videos of me harvesting Japanese Madaké Bamboo for shakuhachi

The videos above show me harvesting Madaké Japanese bamboo which is called také hori. They also show me processing the bamboo, including performing Aburanuki or “heat curing”. These short films condense hours, days, or even weeks of my labor into just minutes.

Madaké 真竹, Banzhu 斑竹, Phyllostachys bambusoides, Giant Japanese timber bamboo: A rose by any other name

Playing shakuhachi in front of giant Madaké bamboo, 2010
Playing shakuhachi in front of giant Madaké bamboo, 2010

For over a millennium, craftspeople like me have primarily chosen Madaké (真竹) for crafting shakuhachi. Its favorable characteristics and abundance in Japan make it ideal. Like many elements of Japanese culture, its origins trace back to China. The first live plants were imported from Zhejiang province during the Nara period (710-794 AD).

A rare sight, Madaké rhizomes growing up into a rotting log which deteriorated around them, Japan 2020
A rare sight, Madaké rhizomes growing up into a rotting log which deteriorated around them, Japan 2020

Interestingly, Madaké bamboo all over the world shares the exact same DNA because it reproduces asexually directly from its roots or rhizomes. These rhizomes are like subterranean dragons, snaking and knitting through the soil and bursting out at times only to dive back down.

From these subterranean wombs, each stalk emerges as a new shoot. Soon, they breach the earth, climb towards the sky, and fan out their leaves like an umbrella so they can begin transforming light into energy.

It’s astonishing how these new shoots telescope to their full height and nearly full girth within just a few months. Some shoots are as wide as a human thigh, making one feel like a small insect. Madaké is certainly a “giant” bamboo which tries its best to grow to immense size. In fact, under ideal growing conditions few stalks will be the correct size for shakuhachi.

Over each growing season, these new stalks develop limbs and leaves until they reach three to four years of age. What often surprises people is that they typically only live for about eight years.

Now we can see that the entire grove functions as one tightly interconnected collective. When we harvest a piece, the whole grove knows it.

Remarkably, every hundred years Madaké stalks globally flower at the exact same time and then die. The last time this happened was in the 1960s and it of course had a huge impacted the Japanese craft world. Thankfully, the rhizomes survive!

Playing shakuhachi by visible Madaké bamboo rhizomes, 2010
Playing shakuhachi by visible Madaké bamboo rhizomes, 2010

Why Madaké for Shakuhachi?

We shakuhachi craftspeople use Madaké bamboo because it tends to grow very straight and with excellent internodal spacing that’s more ideal for finger-hole placements. Additionally, the lower portion possess a desirable inner taper which is crucial for the classic shakuhachi sound and play-feel.

However, we do experiment with other bamboo species and even alternative materials. For example, it’s possible to craft very fine shakuhachi from above-root bamboo, AKA poles. In fact, Japanese makers did not widely use the root end until nearly a thousand years after the shakuhachi was imported from China.

Harvesting Madaké bamboo for crafting shakuhachi

Harvesting Madaké bamboo sub. var. 'Green stripe' for shakuhachi (note the giant Moso bamboo behind me), 2010
Harvesting Madaké bamboo sub. var. ‘Green stripe’ for shakuhachi (note the giant Moso bamboo behind me), 2010

I began harvesting my own bamboo for flutes around 2001-2002 when I was just fifteen or sixteen years old. Back then, I lived between Florida and Norfolk, Virginia. Both of these states are teeming with amazing bamboo groves. Of course, I have also harvested Madaké bamboo in Japan. Every grove is unique, yet each feels like home.

Precariously traversing a wild, unkempt Madaké bamboo grove in search for the perfect pieces for shakuhachi, 2010
Precariously traversing a wild, unkempt Madaké bamboo grove in search for the perfect pieces for shakuhachi, 2010
shoot
Spider-like Madaké auricle on a dried shoot sheath in Japan, 2020

Before harvesting from new groves I need to positively identify the bamboo as Madaké because species like Vivax and Makino can appear nearly identical. I prefer to identify shoots in spring when they’ are’re budding but a dead shoot can also suffice.

Madaké shoots are notably smooth and waxy, leopard spotted, and with bright pink leaf tips. Most distinctly, they possess vivid green spider-like auricles. Makino shoots look similar, for instance, but they’re darker and covered in coarse hairs. Vivax and Hachiku shoots, conversely, lack auricles but otherwise their stalks look nearly identical to Madaké. However, their dimensions and the quality of their fibers isn’t as good as Madaké.

Digging Madaké bamboo in Nara, Japan (the gentleman to my left is the land owner), 2019
Digging Madaké bamboo in Nara, Japan (the gentleman to my left is the land owner), 2019

Next, I spend many hours meticulously searching the grove for suitable pieces. I like to get a feel for the entire grove before I begin to dig. After carefully considering potential stalks I dedicate many more hours to unearthing them. This is no easy feat!

Beyond the bamboo stalk’s own roots, I contend with the immensely tough rhizomes. These unbelievably hard and solid rhizomes have shattered my tools on more than one occasion! On a harvesting trip to Japan, for instance, my “indestructible” “Slammer” tool unexpectedly broke against one…!

japan-bamboo-shakuhachi-harvest-jon-kypros
Digging out Madaké for shakuhachi with Slammer tool before it shattered, Nara, Japan, 2020

While it may at first seem harsh to remove living bamboo stalks it’s actually akin to harvesting a vegetable. For shakuhachi, we primarily select older, dying, or dead stalks which is known as culling. Removing these stalks prevents overcrowding, makes way for new growth, and helps stave off infections and infestations.

leaf
A dead piece of Madaké with prized goma spots, still in ground, vine growing up it, next to still living green stalks, Nara Japan, 2020

As mentioned, the average lifespan of a single Madaké stalk is only about eight years. The ideal harvesting age is from four years onward. As they begin to die, harmless fungi can create beautiful mottled splotches known as spalting which many shakuhachi enthusiasts value.

In Japan these spalted pieces of Madaké are called goma which translates to “sesame seeds”, referring to the small bumps of dried sap that often form on the skin of the bamboo (see picture above). Believe it or not, some renowned shakuhachi makers intentionally bury their bamboo in fungi-rich mediums or even chicken manure to induce spalting (a process also practiced in the West for spalting wood).

Harvesting in Winter: Safety in the Season

We harvest bamboo primarily in winter because potentially dangerous insects and other creatures are hopefully dormant. Wild boars are also less active during winter, as are venomous snakes in other parts of the world like North America. Of course, all the inherent dangers of hard manual labor with sharp tools are present.

Additionally, in winter the bamboo tends to be more dormant with less water content which significantly speeds up the initial drying process and reduces the likelihood of cracking. Similarly, the mild winter sun provides a more consistent drying environment, further minimizing the risk of cracks.

Fire Curing or Aburanuki

Me performing aburanuki, 2010
Me performing aburanuki, 2010

There is nothing quite like the smell of cooking green Madaké bamboo! After many long hours of harvesting, transporting, and cleaning, the time finally comes for the next magical process in shakuhachi construction known as Aburanuki. This is the process of sweating out the bamboo’s moisture over a heat source. This also cooks the natural juices within the bamboo to a small extent, making them more viscous like glue.

Following Aburanuki, I place my bamboo in full sunlight to dry for a month or more, during which time I meticulously rotating each piece for even sun exposure. After this sun drying phase, I move the bamboo indoors for a further curing period of at least three years, but often five years or more. Working the bamboo too soon can cause issues like gumming up tools and excessive cracking but the bamboo can also shrink a bit, impacting tuning.

My harvest of Japanese Madaké bamboo drying in the sun, 2010
My harvest of Japanese Madaké bamboo drying in the sun, 2010

A Shared Appreciation

In conclusion, I hope you’ve enjoyed this walk through the bamboo grove with me and have emerged with a deeper understanding of this rarified craft, and an even greater admiration for bamboo itself!

You can see one of my most recent harvesting trips to Japan in my journal entry here or read about my odyssey with Japanese Madaké growing in North America here. Josen