RAW Taiko


2023, 2025
Studio RAW, Toronto

Thanks to RAW (Raging Asian Womxn) Taiko and David Cheetham for the guidance and the chance to learn how to re-skin the drums.

It was a privilege to be able to take part in the once-in-a-decade tradition of re-skinning the drums. The old drum heads, made from precious cow hides, molded then marked and worn by the hands of many members of the RAW community before me, were too meaningful to discard.

This piece takes after a colourful floral motif that would be painted onto the ends of round wooden rafters of Korean palaces for adornment and protection - part of a traditional technique called dancheong (단청) that has been re-popularized, of painting important buildings like palaces for decoration and protection. This particular shape is called Joohwa (주화) - an abstraction of persimmon flowers which typically have 4 petals, in this case doubled to have 8, to match the geometry of the drum head. Rather than painting the pattern on, I was inspired by how a layer of the worn-out hide was flaking off from the center out, and decided to carve out the pattern as an homage to the marks that RAW members make (on the drums and on the world). I enjoy the paradox of carving out the drum skin as a means of ‘preserving’ it - by giving it new life as art - as it parallels to me the paradox of RAW raging so arduously out of love.

I don’t know much for sure, but what I do know is that we humans are communal beings who need each other, and need to care for each other. Communal practices like taiko drumming are precious reminders of the acts of freedom, expression, rebellion, and protection that we need to practice and hone, for our individual and collective flourishing. As a diasporic immigrant from Korea, a peninsula divided by American imperialism, living on Turtle Island in settler-colonized Canada, surrounded by friends and comrades from all over the world, it is my responsibility and privilege to understand with an open heart and fluid mind that one’s identity is re-defined, constantly, not by essentialism or nationalism, but by humanity and solidarity. The complex historical relationships of our homelands are important as they allow us to have stronger ties, to witness each other and how we are all interconnected, but we must remember that our individual identities are constantly evolving and being re-defined by the roles we play within the spaces and communities we presently inhabit. I am grateful to have gained new perspectives of being in community through RAW.  
Two iterations of this piece were made - the first for my friends and tattoo artists Annie and Yiu Hei at My Friends Studio, the second for the annual RAW fundraiser.
As a member of RAW’s community group, I took part in a big important maintenance ritual that happens every decade or so, by assisting with re-skinning of the Taiko drums and caring for the drum stands. With expert guidance from David, we simultaneously learned and engaged in a series of very unique techniques to do so.
We took the opportunity, while the old drum heads were removed, to clean up the wood rims of the drums with a router, as they had been imprecisely built from old wine barrels and had never had even edges.
Soaking hides in special mixture of water and vinegar to make them malleable, and not degrade in the process
Cutting out the new drum skins
Cutting out slits for mimis (pegs) to go into
Mimis are inserted 
Ratchet straps and rope are used to pull and stretch the hide evenly around the drum. A rigorous process of stretching out the hide by stomping on it with body weight, then tightening the ratchet straps, then repeating for hours.
Byou (tacks) are hammered into pre-drilled holes to fasten the new, fully tensioned hides onto the drums.
Testing sound, making micro adjustments... a true labour of love.