The new feature-length documentary Finding Her Beat hits hard upon universal themes of the pursuit of equity, and the rewards of hard work. Shot largely in Minnesota, and led by a crew of local filmmakers, the movie delving in the mystery and magic of taiko drumming is the centerpiece film of the 2022 Sound Unseen festival.

There are no interviews in the film. Instead, the story unfurls itself through everyday moments honed from more than 200 hours of film as 18 woman taiko drummers converged in St. Paul in 2020 for the historic HERbeat concert, organized by TaikoArts Midwest. After millennia of exclusion from the traditional Japanese drum form, women were centered for this massive taiko performance.

"I love[d] this idea that the story would emerge from the artists themselves. That it is not us dictating a narrative or trying to fit them in a narrative because that's part of the struggle of their whole lives, is that their voice was not in the narrative," says Jennifer Weir, who acted as producer and featured artist for the film, as well as producer and director for the HERbeat concert. "I'm grateful and thrilled that [co-directors] Keri [Pickett] and Dawn [Mikkelson] have created this piece of work that will forever be there. You can't take us out of the story anymore. We put ourselves there. It's permanent. We're forever on the timeline now; it's fantastic!"

While there is plenty of taiko in the film, Sound Unseen attendees at the sold-out showing on Friday, Nov. 11, will also experience a pre-show taiko performance and a post-show Q&A with the Pickett, Mikkelson, Weir, featured artist Megan Chao Smith, and Josie Smith-Weir, who is Weir and Chao Smith's daughter. (Tickets are still available for a second showing on Sunday, Nov. 13, and the film will be available virtually for Minnesota residents.)

Filming for Finding Her Beat began in 2018, right as Weir started to plan for the HERbeat concert. (And, in keeping with the event’s spirit, the film team was comprised mainly of women, non-binary, or Asian creators.) Most of the filming took place in Minnesota, but Pickett also went to Japan for two weeks to record the lives of featured taiko drummers Kaoly Asano and Chieko Kojima. "I think [Asano and Kojima] represent, the two of them, both the past and the present co-existing but never meeting one another, and then also, neither one ever being accepted,” Pickett says.

Kojima had joined a taiko group in Japan in 1976, but she wasn't actually allowed to play because she was a woman. To follow her passion, she built off the taiko style of hachijo to create her own feminine (and extremely popular) style that blends taiko and dancing called hana hachijo. Asano, on the other hand, eschewed the traditional taiko system in 1997 by founding Gocoo, a co-gender drumming group that fuses taiko music with other music genres from around the world. 

According to Weir, the shift of women in taiko has been accepted much more quickly in North America than in Japan. As she sees it, when taiko came to the continent in the late 1960s, it was in the midst of a civil rights movement when Asian Americans and third-generation Japanese were hungry for uniting, strong cultural art. In fact, in North America, there are reportedly more women than men taking part in taiko. 

However, as Weir reminds, there's a difference between participation and equity. "In other fields when you have to do, you know, 10 times the work to get half the pay, the same thing is happening in taiko," she says, noting that it's a miracle to have the resources and opportunities to become a professional taiko drummer in general, let alone as a woman. 

Mikkelson adds, "One of the things we've talked about is that initially [featured artist Tiffany Tamaribuchi] wins this amazing prize in Japan 20-some years ago [at the ​​All-Japan Odaiko Competition], that she's the only woman on stage, and it's only been won by men, and she finally wins this amazing prize that launches her career. And 20 years later, she's still alone on that stage. What's that about?"

The marketing for this documentary positions women in taiko as a symbol of feminism that reaches far beyond the art form. And it's easy to see why, even if a lot of the pre-concert footage in the Twin Cities is rehearsal, rehearsal, rehearsal. 

Because of the cinéma vérité style, and Pickett's and Mikkelson's storytelling, audiences get to see conflict simmer below the surface. Each artist clearly wants to be able to make the most out of this rare opportunity. The film also shows everything coming together as these women support each other. There are the grand moments of the taiko drums booming on stage, but also little moments of joy, like Weir and her daughter skipping through the lobby.

It's a pretty fitting moment as Weir's relationship with taiko has evolved from being all about the music to representing community, traditions, creative expression, and family. 

"The roots just kept getting deeper and wider," Weir says. "I evolved from this eager student to a performer with a superpower, to an artist who has something to say, to an ambassador who just wants to share it with everybody, and, with this film, to a steward for my daughter's generation and the next generation. I want everyone in the world to look around and support their local taiko group, and to see within themselves that they can tap into that healing power."

Learn more about Finding Her Beat, and Sound Unseen.

This feature is part of The Current’s 89 Days series, helping you enjoy the best of the season with weekly guides to events, entertainment, and recreation in the Twin Cities.