The essence of Japanese culture, we’re often told, is elegant simplicity: think of the monochromatic beauty of a Zen garden or the deceptively rustic character of a tansu cabinet. And so it is with western perceptions of taiko music, a rural form of percussive celebration that was revived, and honed to a point of powerful austerity, by Sado Island’s music-and-martial-arts collective Kodo during the 1980s. Kodo remains the most popular taiko troupe internationally, but that there are other, less formal approaches to taiko drumming is evident from the growing popularity of Nara’s Yamato percussion ensemble, which makes its Vancouver debut this weekend.

“I think Kodo’s inspiration is coming from tradition,” says the younger ensemble’s artistic director, Masa Ogawa, in a three-way Skype conversation facilitated by translator Kazuho Yamamoto. “The Japanese tradition is their inspiration, and they build their performance around that idea. But Yamato, I think that we are third-generation musicians. We are the population who don’t know traditional wadaiko [Japanese drums], and the way we build our performance is we focus on wadaiko, and then we think about how we can build from there. So our artistic direction is not so related to traditional ideas.”

It’s not that there’s been a convulsive break from traditional taiko, which served in the past as the soundtrack for communal harvest celebrations as well as Shinto ritual. As Ogawa notes, he got his start drumming in his neighbourhood temple, playing on a 150-year-old drum given to him by his mother.

“Even if I am performing new songs, the days when I performed at the shrine and the deep cultural aspects of wadaiko are always with me, I feel,” he says. “Hearing wadaiko at a shrine makes me feel at home, and it reminds me of my first performance. There were children and elders, and some were laughing while some were crying, but they were all enjoying listening. This is what I always come back to.”

Yamato’s approach is equally rooted in its leader’s art-school training, however. Ogawa studied graphic design, not music, and also took an interest in glassblowing and performance art.

“It’s a bit hard to explain, but we can be considered more of a performance troupe than a musical ensemble,” he explains. “And design is what I really focus on when I create Yamato’s staging. I really think aesthetics is impor-tant; creating an inviting and beautiful stage is important. When I think about staging, I think about the balance of colours and the music. I also think about how we can make it appealing to an audience by focusing on colours and layers and space. That is something I learned from graphic design.”

Asked if his approach to sound is essentially sculptural, Ogawa agrees. “Our focus is more on weight and balance instead of harmony,” he says. “When I’m composing the music, I think about the rhythm, and then on top of that I also think about the musicians’ movement; how they move, the way they play these rhythms.…On the stage, you’ll see what I’m talking about. The synchronization will be transmitted to the audience, and the audience will feel it through their hearts.”

That very human pulse, appropriately enough, is at the centre of Yamato’s touring show, Bakuon. “We think the heartbeat is the most energetic sound on the planet,” Ogawa explains. “Bakuon means a loud, loud sound, like the sound of an explosion, so that’s what we want to express. Our heartbeat is kind of like a whispering—it’s not easy to hear—but it’s also very powerful. It’s one of the most powerful sounds we have on this planet, and that’s what we want to share.”

Yamato plays the Queen Elizabeth Theatre on Saturday (February 6).