Who is Yukata Oyama?

In the world of Tsugaru shamisen, Yutaka Oyama is the third-generation head (sandaime) of the Oyama‑ryu, one of Japan’s largest schools. He has performed not only across Japan but also in about 30 countries overseas. After earning the Excellence Award for two consecutive years at the Tsugaru Shamisen Competition held by the Japan Folk Song Association, he energetically began numerous collaborations with various musicians. In addition to teaming up with artists like Arashi, Chiharu Matsuyama, Zutomayo, Keisuke Kuwata, and Yosuke Yamashita, he has also contributed to various drama and game soundtracks. While upholding the Tsugaru shamisen as a traditional art, Oyama proclaims a mission of “re‑democratizing folk music,” aiming to infuse new interpretations and spread it into everyday contemporary life. In this feature, he shares in depth the history and true essence of folk songs, along with some of his favorite stories.

The History and Appeal of Tsugaru Shamisen

Please tell us about the career you’ve built up, from being born into the head family of the Oyama school to today.

First, let me begin by talking about the Oyama school, which I now lead as its third-generation head. My grandfather was born in the Tsugaru region of Aomori Prefecture and discovered the Tsugaru shamisen when he was 15. He was taught by a shamisen player from a troupe of traveling performers. Some time later, a folk-song competition organized by the Toonippo newspaper was held in Aomori, and my grandfather was hired as its exclusive accompanist. That’s how he began performing as a Tsugaru shamisen artist.

During the 1950s, folk-song taverns where you could enjoy both drinks and folk music became quite a sensation in Asakusa, Tokyo. That boom helped introduce Tsugaru folk music nationwide. Amid this trend, my grandfather moved to Tokyo in 1958 and founded the Oyama school shortly after.

Originally, the Tsugaru shamisen was played as a solo instrument, but the Oyama school’s greatest innovation was introducing it in ensemble performances and creating the written scores needed for that. In those days, many shamisen players were visually impaired, and there were no notation or method books. To address this issue, we created and organized the materials so that all players could perform together.

My father became the second-generation head of the Oyama school. In addition to preserving the traditional Tsugaru shamisen, he played a role in integrating it into the booming enka era (Japanese ballad music). While my father like my grandfather, was still born in Tsugaru, I was born in Tokyo. By that time, the school had already been established, so the succession path was already laid out. Throughout my teenage years, my grandfather chased me every day, forcing me to practice. I often slacked off, but at least I maintained the outward form of practice. Then, when I was 19, I entered a national Tsugaru shamisen competition. This proved to be a turning point for me as my mindset shifted, and I gradually began receiving solo work, which has continued until today.

What happened at that competition?

Up until then, I had always seen the Shamisen through the lens of the Oyama school, as something only older people played. When I entered that competition, I learned that many talented shamisen players my own age were out there. It was around the year 2000, coincidentally, exactly at the same time when the Yoshida Brothers, who remain hugely active today, were still entering contests. That ignited a spark in me. After recommitting myself to study, I began to receive work, and that’s continued without pause ever since. Looking back, my timing was fortunate as the year 2000 was right before the shamisen boom hit.

Originally, there were only two Tsugaru shamisen competitions held in Aomori. After the boom, contests started spreading further to places like Osaka and Nagoya. Nowadays they're so active that more than ten different winners can emerge in a year. The Tsugaru domain, where this tradition originated, is known for its spirited temperament and competitiveness, so competitions are extremely important in the Tsugaru shamisen world. While shamisen typically accompanies folk singing, Tsugaru shamisen evolved into a free, improvisational instrument, and that appeal seems to attract many younger people today.

Could you tell us about the characteristics, history, and musical appeal of the Tsugaru shamisen?

The shamisen originated from Persia (present-day Iran) and traveled along the Silk Road, passing through southern China to reach Okinawa. There, the sanshin was created, with its characteristic body covered in python skin. By the time these instruments reached mainland Japan, the biwa (a Japanese lute brought from the mainland) was already popular. Taking cues from the biwa’s pick (bachi), the shamisen was developed by adapting and modifying it.

Shamisen expanded its use, becoming integral in various traditional arts such as long narratives like bunraku and kabuki accompaniment, geisha entertainment, and more. There was a group of visually impaired female performers known as goze in Niigata, trained in arts like naniwabushi, dodoitsu, and nagauta. As they toured the Tohoku region, they introduced shamisen culture to Tsugaru. There were many visually impaired people in Tsugaru, and the shamisen path became one of the few performing opportunities. Over the past 150–200 years, this gave rise to the distinctive playing style and form of Tsugaru shamisen, making it one of the most recent traditional Japanese instruments to develop.

Folk songs which include the Tsugaru shamisen are regarded not merely as “traditional culture,” but as “transmitted performing arts.” We are currently seeing traditional Japanese arts like bon-odori (traditional dances) experience renewed popularity across Japan, and instruments like the Tsugaru shamisen are following suit. As technology reaches a saturation point in society, people increasingly feel strain and stress, and as a result, they are rediscovering regional art forms like folk songs and physically expressive dance. Tsugaru shamisen fits right into that reawakening.

What are the musical characteristics of Tsugaru shamisen?

Held with a bachi (pick) in the right hand, the shamisen is struck forcefully against the body like a drum, while the left hand presses the strings, making it a percussive string instrument. Although described as “striking the strings,” its sound production is technically similar to a piano. Tsugaru shamisen is distinctive for its vigorous attack on the skin, making it more rhythmic and percussive than other styles. Its simplicity in tonality makes it expressive with lots of emotion, often conveying the harshness of Tsugaru’s nature and the hardships of life in its poignant tone. Because it originated as accompaniment for folk singing, Tsugaru shamisen has a high degree of improvisational responsiveness much like we see in jazz, blending with the singer’s spontaneous phrasing. Musically, it shares emotional textures with folk-rooted genres like flamenco, gypsy music, gospel, soul, and blues.

“Social Anxiety” and “Returning to the Source”

In the Reiwa era, why do you think Bon Odori and Tsugaru shamisen are gaining attention?

I believe it’s largely due to societal anxiety. In these unstable times, people are longing to return to their roots. When the desire for human connection and community resurfaces, folk songs naturally come into demand. When people seek community, they turn to folk traditions as a means to connect. Since the pandemic, more people have been leading multi-base lifestyles or returning to or relocating to regional areas (U-turns and I-turns). Regional folk songs always exist, and they serve as excellent tools for fostering communal ties.

Is this what you refer to as “re‑democratizing folk music”?

Exactly, it’s about how folk music should exist in the current era. In the past, to preserve folk music for future generations, people tried to package it like classical or formal performing arts, presenting it as something to be preserved, archived, and handed down. But folk songs were never originally so lofty. They were often part of tavern entertainment or rural and fishing communities, and the lyrics sometimes included earthy or risqué humor deeply rooted in daily life. It’s like the modern equivalent of young people having a rap battle (cypher) in a park by exchanging playful, rhythmic or coded lyrics, even flirty jokes. That’s the true nature of folk music. So, the approach I take in seeing this as unpretentious, everyday, relatable music, is what I call “re‑democratizing folk music.”

Your collaboration with modern music is very distinctive. What brought that about?

Traditionally, becoming a professional Tsugaru shamisen performer involves winning competitions and then honing your skills at folk-song taverns. However, because my grandfather and father were sometimes judges when I entered competitions, it meant I was already known, and to be honest, I had a tough time with everyone’s expectations. The pressure of being “the third head of the Oyama school” was heavy, and it led me to face some teasing. I rebelled by stepping outside the shamisen world and playing in live music scenes beyond traditional stages. I’d played in school bands and loved rock, so I formed shamisen bands and performed. People found that divergence intriguing, and those encounters laid the foundation for my current activities.

What are you doing now, specifically?

Currently, I lead a band called “Tokyo Min’yo Club”. In pop music, Japanese instruments are often treated as gimmicks used when you want a bit of Japanese flavor in a Western framework. But Tokyo Min’yo Club flips that: folk music’s “melodic phrasing,” rhythm, and sense of space are central, and Western instruments are incorporated into that framework.

I also organize “MINYO BLOCK PARTY,” a festival-like series of events at live houses. Folk songs take center stage, alongside festival stalls and classical Japanese dance, creating a lively environment where children and adults alike can celebrate. I hope folk songs remain in children’s memories of festivals.

Although some might say my approach is unconventional for a shamisen performer, I get invited by all kinds of artists. Sometimes it’s just as “a shamisen player,” other times they specifically want the Japanese element I bring. It varies.

"One memorable experience was with Chiharu Matsuyama."

I was invited to record shamisen for his cover of Saburo Kitajima’s “Fusetsu Nagare Tabi.” I didn’t expect anything more than a quick drop-in at the studio and especially didn't expect Matsuyama himself to be present. But to my surprise, he came and quietly listened to me playing while smoking beside me. In that moment I thought, “Maybe he's planning on killing me” (Yukata laughs). After the recording, he said, “You know I have a national tour coming up, right? Come hang out when you can.” I thanked him and left but shortly after, I really received an email from his manager inviting me officially. I joined his nationwide tour as much as I could. His concerts were just the two of us: him singing and playing, me accompanying. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. Collaborating with top artists like Matsuyama, Keisuke Kuwata, or Zutomayo, brings out an incredible energy in me that always pushes me further.

Folk Music as a Legitimate Japanese Resource

Alongside collaborations, you also perform overseas. How did that begin?

Originally, I never set out to go abroad; I was invited. Since around 2000, the invitations started increasing. As someone who loves world folk music, I would take the time to learn about the local folk music of a country before visiting, eat the local food, make friends over drinks, and always made time to arrange a shamisen session. I’ve lived through some scary moments but also gained unforgettable inspiration.

My first trip abroad was to Russia, where I was beat up in the Moscow subway. I truly thought I was going to die. But after that experience, I became accustomed to travel and learned to sense danger a bit better.

On stage, I believe respect must be shown in words, too. It’s not enough to say, “music has no borders” or “music doesn’t need language.” I use the local language for MCs, even memorize some risque jokes to use backstage, all these things are also important. When in Rome…

For example, in the U.S., pop music on shamisen gets applause. In Europe, people might ask, “Play something more traditional.” In Africa, I’ve been told, “We can’t hear the shamisen, just play the taiko.” In the Middle East, others say, “Taiko is too loud, let us hear more shamisen.” Reactions vary completely by region.

Can inbound visitors to Japan experience Tsugaru shamisen?

Yes, there are people offering interactive experiences where you can rent a kimono and even try the shamisen a little. I’m not an expert, but these opportunities do exist; a quick search should turn up some.

Finally, a message to readers?

People often say Japan’s lack of natural resources such as fossil fuels and minerals is a weakness. I disagree with this. Japan is blessed with sacred, age-old natural landscapes and vibrant, diverse cultures that are deeply rooted in our identity, and those are genuine resources in their own right. That’s why Japan thrives today as a tourism-oriented nation.

I see folk music (min’yo) as one of Japan’s cultural assets. Yet, without human connection and interaction, it cannot truly take root and flourish. If we want visitors to come back to Japan again and again, we need to show them the authentic spirit of our culture and also nurture environments where that authenticity can remain alive and accessible.

These days, urban development tends to make towns and regions lose their unique character. Instead of pursuing mere uniformity and efficiency, I hope to offer visitors a glimpse into the roots of Japanese culture. That’s how I hope people will come to appreciate folk music: not as a relic, but as a vital, living tradition connected to our deepest cultural heritage.