The Asayake Taiko group is not subtle. Barring the Violent Femmes, few events can command the attention of the entire lunch crowd at Price Center — screaming evangelists cannot, nor can fraternity or sorority charity drives — yet, on Feb. 16, a group of five performers in orange and yellow shirts stood on a platform and did the seemingly impossible: The students of Price Center listened.

“”Most of the time we make enough noise to get people’s attention,”” John Muir College junior and Asayake Taiko Performance Director Michael Hirota said.

Taiko is the Japanese art of drumming. Used to help organize troops in feudal warfare, taiko was brought to the United States, where, with heavy influences from jazz, it transformed into ensemble taiko about 50 years ago. The drums are big, and the sound is even bigger. Asayake Taiko’s first piece, Ashura, brought Price Center under control.

“”It was a great, energetic performance that grabbed a lot of people’s attention and even sat them down,”” said Sixth College sophomore Janice Sapigao, who was seated front and center before the drumming began.

The performance included the loud bass of the drums, syncopated shouting by the drummers and elaborate hand gestures with the drumsticks. Performers would swing the sticks low and suddenly raise them to strike the drums, or tap them on the rim of the drumhead to make a sharper sound. Hirota, dressed in blue, stood between two groups of drummers who played call and response with each other. The last piece, “”Oiuchi Daiko,”” had other percussion instruments that resembled rattles and tambourines, as well as dancing. It demanded attention. It was easy to digest. It was the perfect introduction for the Nikkei Student Union’s “”Day of Remembrance.””

The day was designed to commemorate Japanese Americans who were placed in internment camps and veterans of World War II. National recognition occurs on Feb. 19, the day in 1941 when President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066 and made it legal to relocate all persons of Japanese descent living on the West Coast to internment camps. The NSU hoped to honor the Day of Remembrance and raise awareness of Japanese-American internment through the Asayake Taiko performance, speeches and screenings of documentaries of the Japanese-American involvement in World War II and the annual pilgrimage to Manzanar, an internment camp located near the Sierra Nevada mountains.

“”Whether or not a hundred, or 200 came out, or one person, as long as that one person learned something about Japanese heritage … as long as I affected that one person, I have succeeded,”” said Earl Warren College senior Rie Watanabe, the cultural chairperson of the NSU and master of ceremonies for the event.

However, when the taiko performers left the stage, the crowd’s interest faded as quickly as the echoes of the drums. David Kawamoto, who received the Japanese American Citizens League’s highest commendation, JACLer of the Biennium, took the podium and became another instrument in the soundtrack of Price Center, along with the music that drifts from Jamba Juice and the dragging of metal chairs and tables. While Kawamoto recounted the hardships his parents and grandparents endured during internment, students ate Panda Express and Subway. Stories of Japanese Americans living in animal stalls that still reeked of excrement were drowned out by iPods and laughing conversations. Some studied from class readers.

“”When our community was rounded up for relocation, they were told they could only bring what they could carry,”” Kawamoto said. “”A Japanese poet once wrote … some carried strength, dignity and soul. Thank you very much.”” Scattered clapping and cheers ensued.

Aisaku Higa, a passionate man in sunglasses, spoke next. Chosen to relay the experiences of his father to the UCSD community, Higa spoke with the conviction of one who believes, without hesitation, in what he is saying. He accented every syllable.

“”[I don’t speak] perfect English, but it’s Hawaiian English, so that we can get the message across in a clearer, better manner,”” Higa said. He gripped the podium, leaning forward on both elbows. Later in the speech, he said, “”In 1942 my dad was sent to the Italian front because his face was a Japanese face … the U.S. government couldn’t risk having him fight the war [in Japan] so they sent him to fight against Germany.””

This was the first time Higa had spoken in an outdoor venue. After his speech, he explained how he was used to closed venues, how he enjoyed connecting with the audience, making eye contact with them. At UCSD, the distinction between active participant and unknowing bystander was unclear.

“”I didn’t know which was the audience,”” Higa said with a laugh.

Once Higa finished his speech, members of the audience were invited to learn Obon Odori, a type of Japanese dancing with foundations in Buddhism.

“”It [represents] when all the spirits come up … some of the [internment] camps didn’t allow the dances,”” Watanabe said. Documentaries in Gallery B followed the dancing in Price Center.

Gallery B in the Sun God Lounge is small. Drawings of scantily clad anime girls and fantastical creatures — surrounding a cubism-inspired illustration of a naked woman, her nipples black and pert — paper the back wall. “”Behind the Barbed Wire”” is a documentary that follows members of the 100th Infantry Battalion and the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, two units composed of Japanese Americans, many of whom had families in internment camps. Despite starting earlier than scheduled, around 25 people sat and watched the film. Even more were present for Tad Nakamura’s “”Pilgrimage.””

Nakamura is fourth-generation Japanese American. He stood to the side of the room as the audience watched his slick fusion of a hip-hop soundtrack and interviews with members of the original pilgrimage to Manzanar. The pilgrimage arose from the participants’ desire to know more about the camps, an experience that was held under tight wraps by those who lived it. During the film, one woman recounted her initial belief that internment camps were some sort of summer camp, because her mother always spoke of dances and socializing.

Watanabe ended the viewing with a heartfelt message regarding the horrors of internment. “”Yes, Japanese Americans were interred, but it was the times before and after that they suffered the most,”” she said.

But perhaps the event is best concluded with the beginning of Higa’s speech. After reaching the podium, Higa shouted, “”Good afternoon!”” No one responded.