canadiannikkei.ca

Remembrance Day Ceremony

johnendo — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 04:59:46 +0000

One of my favourite Nikkei events every year . . . the sun broke through this year, against all odds!

Tonari Gumi Fall Bazaar

johnendo — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 23:09:18 +0000

Check out Tonari Gumi’s annual fall Bazaar on November 7th from 11:30am to 2:20pm. As always there will be lots of homemade Japanese food and crafts made by members and volunteers. You’re advised to come early as all the good stuff sells out by 12:30pm.

Chibi Taiko in Onomichi

johnendo — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 22:57:42 +0000

There was a moment towards the end of the July 25 performance by Chibi Taiko and Onomichi’s Betcha Taiko that will be forever etched in my memory. The two groups were playing a piece together called Ishizue, an original Betcha composition that Chibi members had learned over the course of the past week. Night was falling as the nearly three dozen drummers filled the small public square in Onomichi’s shotengai (shopping district) with a thick wall of sound. The young Chibi drummers were playing with a ferocity and sense of purpose I had never witnessed before. As the piece drew to a conclusion, the drummers swooped low to the ground, their faces glistening with a combination of sweat and exhilaration. I was surprised at the emotion that welled up in me. A lump came to my throat as I watched the members of Chibi Taiko, including my two daughters, give everything they had to a common purpose in the true spirit of taiko. At that one moment, the members of the two groups—who shared a common heritage but little else—emphatically bridged the cultural divide.

Making the moment all the more poignant was the knowledge that with the performance, our time in Onomichi was drawing to a close. The twenty members of the Chibi Taiko family, including drummers, parents and two instructors, had spent the past eight days in the small port city near Hiroshima as guests of the Onomichi Ruri Lions Club, Betcha Taiko and the city itself. Given the relatively short duration of our visit, our days and nights had been jam-packed with activities and it was difficult to fathom that we would soon be returning, first to Tokyo and then home to Vancouver.

We had travelled from Tokyo to Onomichi on July 17 aboard the shinkansen (much to the delight of eight-year-old Kyle, who likes going fast), and were met at the Fukuyama train station for the last leg of the journey by Linda Ohama and her crew of camera-men who would document our entire visit. Linda had spent months laying the groundwork for our arrival and after communicating by e-mail for so long it was almost surreal to see her happy, smiling face in person. After a reception at a local elementary school, where we were enthusiastically greeted by a gymnasium full of school kids who were themselves preparing for the start of their summer vacation, the Chibi kids went off with their homestay families, leaving us parents to our own devices. Our visit was officially underway.

Most of our ten days in Onomichi (including side-trips to Hiroshima and Osaka) were divided between workshops with Betcha Taiko and cultural workshops arranged by the Lion’s Club. The cultural workshops encompassed ikebana (flower arranging), a noh workshop/demonstration, shodo (calligraphy) and sado (tea ceremony).

It became apparent early on that our hosts had prepared for our visit with exceptional attention to detail. Each workshop was arranged in such a way that all members, from the youngest (age six) to the oldest (age 23), were able to participate in his or her own way, no small feat given the rather arcane subject matter. As parents, we were invited to participate in the cultural workshops alongside our kids, and we not only enjoyed ourselves but gained a deeper understanding and appreciation of the traditional arts and their window into the Japanese psyche. The care that had been put into ensuring that we all had the best possible experience was truly astonishing. And who knew that flower arranging could be so rewarding?

I first visited Japan almost thirty years earlier with five other members of Katari Taiko (including Shinobu Homma, founder and leader of Chibi Taiko), making a pilgrimage, as novice taiko players, to taiko’s birthplace. To share this trip with Amy and our kids, along with the other Chibi kids, had a special meaning for me. I have to admit, though, that I was somewhat apprehensive how the Chibi Taiko style of drumming would stand up against the more traditional Japanese drumming of Betcha Taiko, with its emphasis on power and unison drumming.

Those fears were dispelled at the first taiko workshop, held at a local elementary school. Once Chibi Taiko began running through its repertoire of pieces, it became evident that the two very different styles would complement each other, rather than compete. It’s not easy to walk into a strange rehearsal hall in a strange country where one doesn’t speak the language or understand the culture and play on unfamiliar drums, but right from the first drum beat, the Chibi kids showed they were ready to give it everything they had. For their part, the members of Betcha Taiko generously shared their style of drumming with us—imparting not only their technical skills but their philosophy and attitude as well.

Over the years, Chibi Taiko has taken part in many taiko workshops in Canada and the US, but working with Betcha Taiko provided a real glimpse into another way of approaching taiko, an approach that is informed by the Japanese ethos and stands in stark contrast to our own western approach to not only drumming, but life itself. It was revealing to watch the respectful way the Betcha members interacted with each other (and us) and to see the focus they displayed while practicing. If the Chibi members were somewhat taken aback by the more formalized atmosphere of that first practice, they soon figured out the lay of the land and began to enjoy themselves. By the second practice both sides began to feel more comfortable with each other and things began to gel. By the day of the concert, a bond had formed between the two groups.

If one focus of the trip was the collaboration with Betcha Taiko, the other was to introduce the members of Chibi to Japanese culture and Onomichi was an ideal place for that. Although it is a tourist destination, it attracts almost exclusively Japanese visitors and is off the radar as far as western tourists go. It has a casual atmosphere, as Japanese towns go, a relaxed charm that comes from being off the beaten path. It is also small enough that getting around is relatively easy, particularly if one is prepared to walk. Uphill, that is. Linda lives on a mountain with a spectacular view of the harbour and the town. If one is on foot, her house is accessed by a series of steep paths that wind their way through temples and forest. There is also a ropeway that will take you up the mountain if you’re tired or weighed down with bags.

What free time we had was spent exploring the town, marvelling over the many temples and trying the various meals on offer in the town’s restaurants. Osamu Otani, a filmmaker and restaurateur (and president of the Lions Club) owns a waffle restaurant at the foot of the ropeway and most of the Chibis had at least one meal there (some more than one—they are delicious). As one of the driving forces behind our stay in Onomichi, we owe him (among many others) a huge debt of thanks.

Visiting Japan in the summer wouldn’t be complete without attending at least one matsuri and we were able to witness two—one in Onomichi and another in Osaka, where we had a chance to watch Ikaki, a Burakumin taiko group, perform. Ikari’s children’s group played several powerful pieces and provided more inspiration for our younger drummers. Osaka is one of the traditional taiko-making centres of Japan and during a visit to a taiko store we were able to load up on jika-tabi (heavy-duty two-toed slippers) and other taiko supplies. In a park nearby there is a giant taiko cuckoo clock. Several times a day a mechanical life-sized taiko player emerges and plays a taiko composition. Unfortunately, our timing was off the day of our visit and we weren’t able to see it do its thing.

Many Canadian school children are familiar with the book Sadako and the Thousand Cranes, and a day-trip to Hiroshima brought the story home for the Chibi kids. It was incredibly powerful to stand at the spot where the bomb went off and to stand in the shadow of the iconic dome that survived the blast, its skeletal frame a mute testament to the terrible force unleashed that day in August . . .

Chibi Taiko’s visit to Onomichi came to a conclusion with a sayonara party hosted by the group at a hall provided for the occasion by the City of Onomichi. Although we were unaware of it until we were already in Japan, Torin and Kyle’s father Dennis used to be a professional chef and with his help (“priceless”, as the ads say) we were able to put on a delicious “Canadian” feast replete with pasta, Caesar salad and Rice Krispie squares (a big hit) for our new friends. It was our small but heartfelt way of saying “arigato” for the boundless hospitality we experienced during our stay. In typical Japanese fashion, many people stayed behind to help clean up, continuing the spirit of “international cooperation” that was so evident throughout the trip.

The following day we bid farewell to our hosts and homestay families at the train station and made our way to Tokyo for the final leg of our trip. Linda travelled with us part way and then said goodbye as we transferred to the shinkansen bound for Tokyo Station. As I watched Linda recede in the distance, I was reminded how this all came about: with her quest to trace her grandmother’s story back to Onomichi and the filming of Obaachan’s Garden. And I reflected on the twists and turns that face us in life, often taking us in strange and wonderful directions.

A Canadian Nikkei In Japan

johnendo — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 22:48:59 +0000

As our family walked through the international arrivals terminal at YVR on our way home from Japan at the beginning of August, my daughter Kaya looked at me and said, “People are so rude in Canada!” As we’d only been back on Canadian soil for 20 minutes or less, the judgement seemed rather harsh, but I knew what she meant.

I remember arriving home after my first trip to Japan in 1982 and having that same feeling—of standing in the middle of a crowded downtown mall and feeling, not exactly frightened, but uneasy . . . unsafe somehow. Which was strange, considering that I was back on familiar ground. I came to realize that after spending some time in Japan, you become accustomed, if only subconsciously, to a certain way of interacting with others, even if they are only strangers on a crowded street. There is a respect for personal space that is perhaps born out of having to live in such close proximity to one another.

Travelling to Japan with my family and Chibi Taiko this summer gave me an opportunity to revisit my early impressions of the country. Because neither Amy nor the girls had been to Japan before, it afforded me a different perspective and I was also better able to sit back and observe the complexities of this fascinating country.

I was more acutely aware this time of the level of civility and politeness in even the most casual interaction, from shopping in a convenience store to renting a cell phone. There is a certain level of formality (you could call it stiffness) that goes along with the politeness that is a bit odd at first, coming from the west, but I soon got used to it. At the same time, I knew that there had to be a price to pay for the almost-excessive politeness that runs through all levels of society. After all, the Japanese are not robots, despite the way they were depicted in western wartime propaganda. More on that later.

Our daughters, who tend towards politeness themselves, found the social environment in Japan very much to their liking (not to mention the plethora of vending machines filled with strange and wonderful drinks, many with aloe in them. I think we figured out later that we spent over $200 on cold drinks). I tried to explain to them that the Japanese way of interacting with one another is built into their upbringing: whereas in the west, individuality and individual achievement is valued, in Japan, it is on how one operates within the group context that one is judged.

We did notice that along with the politeness comes a certain reticence, and that warmth is sometime lacking in interactions, although this is certainly a generalization, not a blanket statement. For instance, the girls developed a strong bond with their homestay family who treated them very warmly.

Another thing that struck us is how clean everything is in Japan. There is absolutely no garbage on the streets. There are also no garbage cans. And the ones that do exist, like in hotel bathrooms, are almost ridiculously tiny. After a while, I came to see this apparent paradox as symbolic of Japan’s distinct “otherness”. It’s not as if no garbage is generated—the Japanese are the masters of packaging, after all—it’s just that it’s not acceptable to leave one’s detritus on the streets or even to leave it in overflowing garbage cans. So where does it go?

Certainly, Japan is a country of contradictions. As a society, it has a set of strictly codified behaviours, yet it is not able to mandate, or even foster, human relationships, as evidenced by a plunging birth-rate. It is almost as if, by throwing all their eggs in one basket (the group over the individual, a premium on work over leisure) as a society they are unable to respond to a changing world, as if the guidelines that make the society work harmoniously are working against its very future. It’s certainly a troubling trend.

Shortly after returning home we had dinner with our friends Richard and Masami to hand out omiyage and catch up on news. Richard has spent some time living in Japan and Masami was brought up there (she told us before we left that the word “no” really has no place in the Japanese language, something I found to be utterly accurate; I never heard the word iie used once, in any situation). As we talked about the social interactions among the Japanese and the apparent cohesiveness of the society, they explained the concept of honne (a person’s true feelings and desires) and tatemae (a person’s public face). Having never heard of this concept before, it was mind-boggling on one hand, but made perfect sense on the other. It also explains the use of alcohol as not simply a social lubricant, but a safety-valve—a way to express one’s feelings without fear of repercussions (another strangely logical concept in a country full of them).

Comedian Russell Peters has a bit where he talks about feeling like he was the most Indian man to walk the earth, that is, until he stepped off the plane in India for the first time, at which time he became entirely Canadian. I have never professed to be the epitome of the Japanese male, but I know what he means—I have never felt so Canadian as when I was in Japan. And having travelled there, I am reminded that while my kids and I share a Japanese heritage through my mother’s side of the family, we are absolutely, indelibly Canadian.

As a side note, while writing this piece I looked up the concept of honne and tatemae on Wikipedia and found this appended to the article. It is a good reminder of the danger of generalizing or taking things at face value.

Danger of culturalism
These concepts of honne and tatemae should be analysed very carefully in order to not fall into the trap of a culturalist vision of Japan and Japanese people, which do not correspond to reality. Indeed, these concepts of tatemae (建前)and honne (本音) can be linked very easily with Nihonjinron, a point of view which considers Japanese society completely homogeneous, presupposing that the Japanese differ radically from all other known peoples, which is for example the opinion of the author Chie Nakane. A lot of Japanese researchers, for example Yoshihiko Amino or Eiji Oguma, showed that these nationalist visions were just an illusion and tried by their works to deconstruct this concept of homogeneous Nation or the idea that the rules of Japanese society could be understandable just for Japanese people and not for foreigners.

from The Bulletin

Katari Taiko 30th Anniversary Concert

johnendo — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 22:40:03 +0000

Rekishi (Histories)
30 Years of Katari Taiko
Sunday, November 1, 2009, 2pm
The Cultch, 1895 Venables Street
$20 (general) / $15 (students & seniors) / $10 (12yrs & under)
+ service charges
For tickets call The Cultch box office at 604.251.1363 • www.thecultch.com
For info call 604.683.8240

When Katari Taiko celebrates its 30th Anniversary with a concert at the newly refurbished Cultch (formerly the Vancouver East Cultural Centre) on November 1, it will mark three decades of dedication to not only the art of drumming, but the community that gave birth to the group.

Katari Taiko rose out of the burgeoning Asian Canadian movement of the mid-seventies, a time when many younger Japanese and Chinese Canadians were beginning to actively question their identities and to explore their Asian heritage. Tonari Gumi was open for business on Hastings Street; Sakura-so, a home for Japanese Canadian seniors, had opened on Powell Street; the Japanese Canadian Centennial Project had published A Dream of Riches, a photographic history of the community; the Japanese Canadian Centennial in 1977 had given rise to the annual Powell Street Festival.

A performance by San Jose Taiko at the 1979 Powell Street Festival was the catalyst for the formation of Katari Taiko, the first group of its kind in Canada. A Japanese group, Ryujin Daiko, had performed at the inaugural Powell Street Festival and the world-renowned ensemble Ondekoza had performed several times in Vancouver, but they were clearly Japanese in both their approach and aesthetic; while they were to be admired, they seemed somehow out of reach. San Jose Taiko, on the other hand, was something else again. As young Asian Americans, they exuded an energy and exuberance that was both inspiring and accessible. The majority of the group were also women, defying the stereotype of the passive Asian female—something that struck a chord with many in the Japanese Canadian community. Following their performance, the members of SJT actively encouraged the formation of a local group and with that, the taiko seed was officially planted on Canadian soil.

Once the enthusiasm generated by SJT’s performance wore off, however, the reality of starting a group from scratch set in. With no drums, no teacher, and the closest established group 1,500 kilometres away in California, there wasn’t a whole lot to go on. The first practices were held that fall at the Steveston Buddhist church, using a single taiko borrowed from the Steveston Kendo Club and a collection of spare tires propped up on chairs. The group members sacrificed their brooms to the cause, sawing the handles into foot-long drum sticks.

It soon became apparent that both drums and instruction were needed in order for a Vancouver taiko group to progress beyond an idea. Seiichi Tanaka, founder and sensei of the San Francisco Taiko Dojo, was invited to give the group a week-long intensive at their new home at the Strathcona Community Centre. Tanaka is widely credited with introducing taiko to North America and had given SJT members their first instruction. He was, they said, a hard task-master, but would give them a good grounding in taiko skills.
If SJT made taiko look easy, studying with Tanaka brought the reality home: the joy expressed on stage during a taiko performance was only achieved through hard work in the practice studio. Tanaka’s style of drumming, influenced by his own teachers in Japan, owed a great deal to the discipline and repetition of martial arts and, like most senseis, he ruled with an iron fist. For the members of Katari Taiko, used to a more relaxed North American approach, it was a bit of a shock and some rankled at Tanaka’s my-way-or-the-highway style.

Still, by the time Tanaka returned to San Fancisco, the group had its first two songs under its belt, had learned how to make and skin their own drums using wine barrels and, more importantly, had learned the basic techniques and rhythms of taiko drumming. From then on it was a matter of developing their skills and forging an identity as a group. Responding perhaps to Tanaka’s autocratic style, the group chose to fashion itself as a collective, with a rotating leadership and all decisions made by consensus. While somewhat unwieldy, the collective model set the tone for the next 30 years. The endless meetings required by this mode of operation also gave the group its name—katari means “to talk.”

Katari Taiko was never intended to be a performance group, so in 1981, when the group was invited to send four members to perform in Faro, Yukon, as part of a Japanese cultural group it caused a mini-crisis within the group. With only two pieces in its repertoire, no uniforms and no method for selecting performing members, it wasn’t an easy decision to accept the performance request. In the end, makeshift uniforms were thrown together and four members were chosen to play what would turn out to be the first of many public performances in this tiny mining town perched on the edge of a mountain.

As word got out about the group and it became apparent that they would be getting more and more performance requests, it became necessary to increase their repertoire and several members began composing pieces. They also collected a few pieces from American groups, including a Buddhist group in Los Angeles, Kinnara Taiko. In 1982, six members of the group travelled to Japan, where they visited several groups and learned a piece from the group Kodo on Sado Island.

By the summer of 1982, Katari Taiko was beginning to receive attention within the mainstream community. In keeping with their mandate of supporting progressive causes, the group performed at several of the large peace marches held in Vancouver—performing one year for an estimated 80,000 people at Sunset Beach.
A big turning point for the group was an invitation from Artistic Director Gary Cristall to perform at the 1982 Vancouver Folk Music Festival where they debuted on the Friday night mainstage to a rapturous response from the crowd.

Before long, the group was performing at events across Canada, including Winnipeg’s Folklorama. In 1985, Katari Taiko represented BC in the cultural component of the Canada Summer Games in Saint John New Brunswick. The group also performed at the FolkLife Pavilion at Expo 86. Their collaboration with Kokoro Dance in the internment-based piece Rage marked a departure for the group, with a dance component that stretched the boundaries of many of the drummers. The multi-disciplinary piece was performed at the Vancouver Folk Music Festival and the Canada Dance Festival in Ottawa.

In the early days, taiko was not widely known outside of Japan and as Katari Taiko began to attract a wider following, taiko itself was introduced to many audience members for the first time. And just as San Jose Taiko inspired the members of Katari Taiko to pick up drum sticks, so too did Katari Taiko inspire other groups to form across Canada, through workshops and performances. There are now groups across the country in most major cities. Vancouver alone now has half a dozen groups, each with its own approach to drumming, and the majority of them can trace their origins directly to Katari Taiko.

Group members have come and gone over the years—a recent survey came up with 60 plus members who have gone through the group at one time or another—but what has remained steady is a commitment to a collective model as well as a mandate to support progressive, community-based causes.

When the ten-member group takes the stage at the Cultch on November 1, they will be joined by a number of alumni and will also premiere a new piece.

2009 Road to Asia Festival

johnendo — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 21:22:07 +0000

Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre
showcases the best of Asian culture at ninth annual
Road to Asia Festival

Saturday, November 7, 11am – 5pm
Sunday, November 8, 11am – 5pm
The Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre
6 Garamond Court , Toronto , Ontario
(Don Mills and Eglinton, north east of the Ontario Science Centre), 416-441-2345
Admission: Adults $5, Seniors and Students $3, Children 12 years and under – Free with adult accompaniment
Free onsite parking

The 2009 Road to Asia Festival is a popular annual two-day aarts and entertainment Festival celebrating the richness and diversity of Asian culture – all under one roof. For the ninth year, the Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre (JCCC) will be transformed into a multicultural marketplace filled with a cacophony of sights, sounds, smells for thousands of visitors.

This year’s festival features displays and performances from many of the countries that have a community presence in Canada including the Philippines, Indonesia, India, Thailand, China, Taiwan, Sri Lanka, Tibet, Japan and more.

“The Road to Asia Festival has become a must-attend event for families and so many communities within and around Toronto,” said James Heron, Executive Director, Japanese Canadian Cultural centre. “Since its inception almost 50 years ago the JCCC’s motto has been ‘Friendship Through Culture’. The Centre is an inclusive place that is open to all. The Road to Asia festival is really the ultimate manifestation of that ideal.

On both days, every hour artists from each country will perform on the large, main stage. All artists will introduce their performance and explain the origin of their cultural talents as a way of educating the audience. Numerous community and cultural displays, as well as vendors are spread throughout the building. There will also be a food court featuring delicacies from around the region. The dojo area will be featuring ongoing martial arts demonstrations.

About the Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre
The Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre (JCCC) is one of the largest Japanese cultural centres outside of Japan . It is a registered charity (BN118972967RR0001) that has been serving the Greater Toronto Area for more than forty five years.

Gauche, the Cellist by Kenji Miyazawa

johnendo — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 17:50:58 +0000

Public Performance of Gauche, the Cellist by Kenji Miyazawa
(Translated and Adapted for Double Bass by Ron Hadley)

Gauche, the Cellist, a short story written in the 1920s by the well-known Japanese poet and author Kenji Miyazawa (1896-1933) will be presented as a multi-disciplinary (narration, mime, dance and music) performance

Monday, October 5, 7:00 PM
The Old School House Arts Centre
122 Fern Road West, Qualicum Beach, BC
250-752-6133 www.theoldschoolhouse.org

part of that organization’s 5^th annual Harvest of Music (October 2^nd – 7^th) festival (www.harvestofmusic.com.)

Although this story is most often categorized as children’s literature, it has exhibited lasting, worldwide charm and appeal to people of all ages. Gauche, the Cellist is about a frustrated cellist in a semi-professional small town orchestra that is rehearsing for its upcoming performance of Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony (the Pastoral Symphony). Each night when Gauche returns home to his shabby, little shack next to an old watermill to practice and practice into the wee hours after another day of being scolded for his incompetence by the conductor, the cellist is visited by various local animals. These strange and enchanting dreamlike visitations gradually transform Gauche’s frustration into a more constructive and beneficial awareness of how music and compassion can bring contentment and good health to all beings in the world.

The performance troupe is called The Pastoral Players, and its members are Yayoi Hirano (an internationally celebrated mime and dance artist and mask-maker from Japan who now resides in Vancouver; Yayoi has created four delightful animal masks for this presentation.), Victoria dance and movement artist Lori Hamar, Vancouver double bassist Wilmer Fawcett (acclaimed for his work as the Principal Bassist in the Edmonton Symphony, the Vancouver Opera Orchestra, and Viveza), Qualicum Beach jazz pianist and freelance Japanese translator Ron Hadley (narration and music) and Victoria percussionist Kelby MacNayr. A kabuki and/or bunraku theatre dimension will also be provided by Satoko Ōmuta, a young mime artist from Japan who will work as a kuroko (the clad-in-black, invisible stage hand so characteristic of those well-known forms of Japanese theatre). In addition, the October 5 performance will be preceded by a brief talk/demonstration about Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony by University of Victoria School of Music Professor Harald Krebs.

During the Old School House Art Centre’s Harvest of Music, Gauche the Cellist will be presented in almost every school in District 69. However, children, adults and families who are unable to get to one of the school performances will want to be sure to attend the public performance on Monday, October 5 at 7:00 PM. Tickets are only $10.00 and are available now at the Art Centre.

Performers / YAYOI (mime), Lori Hammer(dance), Satoko Omuta (kuroko)
Musicians / Wilmer Fawcett (double base), Ron Hadley ( piano) Kelby MacNayr(percussion)
Narrator / Ron Hadley
Costume / Naoko Shimada
Mask Design / Yayoi Hirano
Mask Paint / Tomoko Hanawa
Tickets / $10.00

Japanese Cultural Fair in Victoria

johnendo — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 17:38:01 +0000

The Victoria Nikkei Cultural Society
presents

Japanese Cultural Fair
Saturday October 24
Esquimalt Recreation Centre

527 Fraser Street
Free Admission
Enjoy traditional and non-traditional food, arts and crafts, Japanese tea and live entertainment: Japanese Tea Ceremony, Delicious Sushi and Manju, Ikebana Demonstration, Bonsai Display, Traditional Arts & Crafts, Children’s Activity Area, Taiko Drumming, Japanese Calligraphy, Koto Music . . . and more!

Japanese Garden Grand Reopening Ceremony

johnendo — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 17:26:03 +0000

Japanese Garden in Esquimalt Gorge Park

Gorge Park is located on the Gorge Waterway in historic Esquimalt, British Columbia. When the park was developed more than 100 years ago, a key attraction was the establishment of North America’s first Japanese Gardens. The Garden was originally designed by Isaburo Kishida in 1907. The Takata family operated a very successful Tea House in the gardens for many years. Sadly, few elements of this great Japanese garden remain today. The Township of Esquimalt has taken the first steps in recreating Canada’s oldest Japanese Garden, the original Takata Gardens. The refurbishing of the ornamental stream and the construction of a traditional Japanese bridge over it is now complete. A traditional Japanese entry gate is now being installed. These are small but very important steps in returning the spirit and soul of this important historical garden back to the community.

Japanese Garden Grand Reopening Ceremony
Esquimalt Gorge Park
Sunday October 25, 1pm
Come celebrate the return of this very special place.

JCNM Exhibit Opening

johnendo — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 21:50:56 +0000

opening night reception
Friday, September 25, 6-8pm

BROKEN ONLY AT SKY
LEMON CREEK MAP PROJECT

Japanese Canadian National Museum
6688 Southoaks Crescent in Burnaby
604 777-7000

The show runs from Sept 18th – mid Nov.

This is a wonderful exhibit–two exhibits, actually. I saw them a few years back at the Powell Street Festival, but felt they got lost a bit in the outdoor context. They both really come alive in the museum setting. Check it out!

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

My Interview with Leslie Komori

I’ve been to Lemon Creek, or the site of where it was anyway, and it’s just a big field now. Yet at one time it was the largest internment camp, when you count Bayfarm and Rosebury. How did you come up with the concept of the Lemon Creek Map Project?
I went up to Lemon Creek with my mom and visited that same field. As you saw, there really is nothing much there, nothing to mark four years of thousands of peoples’ lives. There are depressions that mark the former locations of outhouses and metal spigots. But that’s about it. I was hoping that my mom could locate the location of her house but the lack of landmarks disoriented her.

We went to the adjacent lodge and they had this incredible map. And there in black and white was proof that my mom was really there, 14 Holly, Mochizuki, the street address of her shack. The map said that my mom and her family lived there whereas the cow field yielded very little evidence of their lives there. I figured that the map and all those names contained thousands of stories. I thought a map might function as a good vehicle to collect oral histories of the camp.

What is the Lemon Creek Map Project?
The original map was produced by the 1991 Lemon Creek Golden Reunion group. Mary Ohara, a former Lemon Creeker, spearheaded the project. In the 1940′s, a group called Hakko-kai had produced statistics, listing all the different families and corresponding street addresses. Mary’s brother-in-law translated the document from Japanese to English. The map grew from the lists of those names and addresses.

The Map Project attempts to create a small scale layout of the original Lemon Creek Internment camp. People can walk down the streets. Gildead, Fir, Spirea, and find the location of their old house. There are blank “houses” drawn on the map, with only the address. The intent is for survivors of the camp, or their relatives to write information in the house, with stories, with the names of people that lived there. My hope is that in writing one’s name down, in including a story, people can re-possess the memory of that very difficult time and also mark their presence at the camp. Much has been done to obliterate the presence of the survivors at the physical site of Lemon Creek. Possibly in just writing down your name, writing a short story, the survivors get to re-assert their presence at the camp and say, yep, I was there.

You first set up the project at the Powell Street Festival several years ago—what was the response to it then?
I’m not sure actually. I’ve displayed the map at PSF a few years ago. I also took it to Toronto for the Lemon Creek reunion in 2007. People have been participating, not so much writing stories but usually listing all the members of their families in the houses.

How has the Project changed since its Powell Street Festival incarnation, and what are you hoping will come out of this latest one, considering that it will be up at the Museum for a relatively long time?
I have a bunch of my mom’s old pictures from Lemon Creek. I’m not sure how she has pictures because cameras were banned. I’m going to try to hang the pictures relative to street addresses where they were taken. I’m hoping the pictures will inspire some memories. I hope to encourage survivors to write more stories on the map. I would also like to encourage the children, grandchildren, great grandchildren of survivors to write questions on the map. I don’t know how easy it is to write a story about camp. But when prompted by questions, former Lemon Creekers are good at answering questions about camp.

The upcoming conference, Honouring Our People: Stories of the Internment, is intended in part, as I understand it, to elicit memories and stories from the Internment years. There is a perception that those who were interned didn’t want to talk about it afterwards. What is your experience with that, when it comes to your own family?
First, I want to put in a big plug for the conference. I think this important conference gives an opportunity for people who went through the war to share stories but also the relatives of those survivors to hear stories and maybe even ask questions they have always been afraid to ask. The conference happens September 25 – September 27 at the Nikkei Centre.

Talking to my Sansei friends, I think some families talked about the war and some families did not talk about it. My family did not talk about it openly. My parents threw out all these pieces and echoes of the history but did not tell me anything directly when I was a child. My mom would refer to friends she knew in “ghost town.” My parents would send me up to the Cariboo for summer vacations, where my dad’s side went to a self-supporting camp. I never understood why or how the family moved from Vancouver to 70 Mile. Once I went to the PNE with my uncle and he happened to mention that he stayed at the PNE for a few weeks. That information really confused me. I can’t remember if he mentioned the Livestock Building. But in retrospect, I understood why my mother never took us see the Agricultural exhibits.

My grade three teacher, Janet Vesterback, gave me Shizuye Takashima’s Child in a Prison Camp. That book directly taught me about camp for the first time. My teacher said, this is what happened to your family. I thought, no way. We live in a middle class neighbourhood, and live a charmed middle class life. No way this stuff in the book happened to my family. But then I got more evidence. My sister Lucy, a yellow power hippie in the 1970′s was working on a Japanese Canadian history project with the Powell Street Revue. So through osmosis, I was picking up on our family history through her community work.

About eight years ago, I started to ask very direct questions to my mom. At first she was reluctant to talk. She had always preserved the Japanese value of kodomo no tame for the sake of the children, protecting my siblings and me from the reality of her own history. But I persisted with my questions and at some point she started talking. She talked about the forced removal from Haney, her brief stay at Hastings Park, life in Lemon Creek and the adventure being a repat in Japan. I am very grateful to my mother for sharing her history. It’s not my right or privilege in any way. I don’t think it’s easy to talk about this stuff. For me, her sharing of camp stories is a precious gift.

What does Lemon Creek mean to you? Does it have meaning beyond its historical significance, or is it just a field?
I think that physical places hold psychic and spiritual memory. Even though Lemon Creek is just presently a cow field, I can sense the spirits of the people who live and died there. Lack of historical markers at Lemon Creek site and other sites of wartime camps really pisses me off. In the states, the National Park Service has recognized many former incarceration camps as significant historical sites. I have heard that Roy Inouye in Kamloops heads an effort to have the British Columbia government put up historical markers at the different sites. I hope Lemon Creek gets a marker so all Canadians will remember.

I am pessimistic as I feel that our community’s ugly history will repeat and has repeated itself. I think post 9-11 events, like the illegal deportation of Maher Arar, the delayed lack of habeas corpus or an open judicial process for Omar Khadr, the numerous hate crimes against Muslim and South Asian Canadians, have echoes of our community’s history. However, I posit that the education process about the camps through the redress campaign may have tempered a more potent racist backlash after 9-11. I’m not an academic so I’m not really sure. But I figure the marking and remembering of Lemon Creek may help to foster the “never again”.

Not to compare the actual experience, but some children and grandchildren of Holocaust survivors identify themselves as “the second generation” as they inherit part of the legacy of the Holocaust. As a Sansei, I identify with the experience of inheriting a history on a different level. The wartime experience is an important part of Canadian history. On a practical level, I need to remember Lemon Creek and to know the nuts and bolts of this history so I can educate future generations of all Canadians. On a more personal level, I feel the need to understand Lemon Creek because that experience indirectly has shaped me and my world view. It’s my belief that I need to know my family’s history so I can understand how I operate in the world and can change it. Pretty humble eh!!!

Leslie Komori is the youngest daughter of Fuzzy Komori and Kay Komori (nee Mochizuki). She is a third generation Vancouverite, literally born and bred in Oakridge. She is a producer of loud sounds and paradoxically a registered audiologist. She began working in the Japanese Canadian community as a teenager with organizations such as Tonari Gumi and the Powell Street Festival. She has also done community organizing in the East Asian queer community in Vancouver. She would like to express her appreciation to Michael Speier for kicking her off her butt and giving her another opportunity to remount the exhibit and to Beth Carter for her practical help and support.