Totsu-totsu

I first came across the totsu-totsu dance several years ago quite by chance when I attended a workshop organised by Dr Cecilia Chan at the Bagan Specialist Centre in Butterworth. I remember being intrigued not just by the gentle rhythm of the movements but also by the man leading it. He was a genial Japanese gentleman named Osamu Jareo, whose warmth seemed to fill the room.

The totsu-totsu dance isn’t a performance in the theatrical sense; it’s more like a quiet conversation between body and mind. The movements slow and deliberate, feet tapping, simple arm gestures that sweep through the air like you’re brushing away clouds, using simple props like stools. There’s a natural sway from side to side, a subtle rocking forward and back, each step paired with steady breathing. No rush, no strain, just an unhurried, slow-motion flow that feels almost like moving through water.

Originating in Japan, the totsu-totsu dance was created as a community-building exercise for seniors, particularly those living with memory decline. Its name, “totsu-totsu,” echoes a Japanese onomatopoeia that suggests a slow, rhythmic tapping much like the heartbeat of the dance itself. In Japan, it’s often taught in eldercare centres and community halls, not only for physical activity but as a way to bring people together in a calm, non-competitive setting.

That day in Butterworth, I didn’t think too much about it beyond the pleasant novelty of seeing an unfamiliar form of movement therapy. But the memory stayed with me.

Fast forward to this year’s George Town Festival 2025, Saw See and I were wandering around the Hin Depot after dinner with See Ming, a friend visiting from Kuala Lumpur, when we stumbled upon a small group in rehearsal. There was that same unhurried rhythm, the same gentle swaying, and it brought back memories of the dance we’d seen in Butterworth. And yes, there was Osamu again, still radiating that same patient energy. We noticed Cecilia practicing her introductory spiel and went up to say hello.

Seeing it again, I realised how well suited the totsu-totsu dance is for dementia therapy. Its repetitive, predictable patterns help stimulate memory recall and give participants a sense of mastery. The slow tempo reduces the risk of falls while still engaging balance and coordination. For caregivers, joining in becomes a shared experience. A rare moment where both can move together without the pressure of achievement, just the comfort of presence. There’s something grounding about it, as though the steady rhythm quiets the mind and makes space for connection.

Perhaps that’s the real gift of the totsu-totsu dance: it’s less about the steps themselves, and more about creating a gentle rhythm that people can immerse themselves into, together.