Betye Saar’s Exhibition at The Huntington Offers Visitors a Calm and Meditative Experience

Also published on 13 November 2023 on Hey SoCal

Betye Saar, ‘Drifting Toward Twilight,’ 2023 (installation view) | Photo by Joshua White / JWPictures.com. The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens

A newly commissioned, site-specific installation by renowned Pasadena artist Betye Saar opened to the public on Saturday, November 11, 2023 at The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens. Called ‘Drifting Toward Twilight’ it will be on view for two years at the Virginia Steele Scott Galleries of American Art, after which it will become part of the institution’s American art collection.

The large scale artwork – a 17-foot vintage wooden canoe and found objects, including antlers, birdcages, and natural materials Saar harvested from The Huntington’s 207-acre grounds – is the focus of an immersive exhibition ‘Betye Saar: Drifting Toward Twilight.’ It is co-curated by Yinshi Lerman-Tan, The Huntington’s Bradford and Christine Mishler Associate Curator of American Art, and Sóla Saar Agustsson, Saar’s granddaughter and the Huntington Art Museum’s special programs and digitization coordinator.

During the press preview on Friday, November 10, Dennis Carr, Virginia Steele Scott Chief Curator of American Art, remarks, “Betye Saar is one of the most important artists of our time. Her compelling voice has echoed in Los Angeles for many, many decades. But she grew up in Pasadena and has fond memories of walking in the Huntington’s gardens.”

Yinshi Lerman-Tan | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

Co-curators Lerman-Tan and Agustsson alternately talk about the installation. Lerman-Tan divulges that Saar specifically chose this location for the installation because it’s like a secret room. She explains, “It has a ‘cocoon-like environment.’ The walls are painted in an oceanic blue gradient, featuring a poem by Saar and phases of the moon. Shifting lighting effects in the gallery emulate phases of daylight to twilight, evening to night, and night to dawn. Inside the monumental canoe, Saar positions mysterious ‘passengers,’ including antlers in metal birdcages, children’s chairs, and architectural elements – all drawn from the artist’s ever-evolving collection of found objects. The space beneath the canoe will be illuminated by a cool neon glow, highlighting plant material foraged by the artist from The Huntington’s gardens.”

“Saar’s work evokes mysticism and the occult, as well as the human relationship to nature and the cosmos,” Lerman-Tan describes. “An immersive, watery space containing a canoe that is part vessel and part dreamscape, the installation gestures to the ancestral and mythological journeys, and the constant cycles of the natural world.”     


Betye Saar with ‘Drifting Toward Twilight,’ 2023 (installation view) | Photo by Joshua White / JWPictures.com. The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens

Besides her role as co-curator, Agustsson was instrumental in making this installation and exhibition a reality. Speaking by phone a week before the exhibition opening, she discloses, “I worked as an assistant to Christina Nielsen (Hannah and Russell Kully Director of the Art Museum) when I first came to The Huntington about two years ago. She happens to be a huge fan of Betye’s and wanted to do an exhibition with her. A few ideas floated around but I remembered that when I was working for Betye a few years ago, she had bought this vintage canoe and had started collecting antlers and natural materials for an assemblage. She’s done canoe installations in the past so this was a notion that has been marinating. I thought that The Huntington Gardens would be the perfect home for the canoe because the concept was to incorporate natural materials. Then Betye came up with the idea of foraging and using plant materials from the Huntington garden.”

Interviewed via email, Saar recounts her collaboration with the Huntington’s Art Museum and Botanical Gardens to realize this endeavor. “I visited the Huntington in the spring of 2022 and met with Christina Nielsen and my granddaughter Sóla Saar Agustsson and the idea of a project came up. Then some of the Huntington curators came to visit my studio and saw the canoe. I submitted a sketch and then made a scale model of the room and the canoe. It all just came together after that.”

“I have used canoes in some of my previous installations,” explains Saar. “To me it represents an element of indigenous people who used them, and the connection to nature. But I also really enjoy the shape of the canoe. The flow of it visually and how when you are in a canoe you feel like you are gliding. I acquired this particular canoe a few years ago and it was sitting in my garage waiting to become art. The Huntington commission made it take shape.”

In a short documentary film – produced for the exhibition and is being shown at an adjacent room – Saar explains her concept for the installation, “A canoe is an object of Early America as a means of transportation and I added the wood burrows to make it look vintage. There are three cages that make you think of slavery, of being taken care of and having certain things but you’re still caged – caged freedom in a way.”             

The companion film also includes a footage of her foraging natural materials at the Huntington garden. Saar recollects, “I think it was back in April when I came to gather materials from the garden. There had been a series of storms and many of the trees had limbs break or had to be trimmed. I picked up what Mother Nature started.”

As she picks up discarded branches, she gets ideas about how to use them and asks an assistant   to hand her her notebook. Saar expounds, “I am an assemblage artist and am inspired by the materials I find at flea markets and estate sales, or things people give me. Sometimes I’ll think ‘Oh this old red box needs to sit on a red table’ or something. But I also am inspired by things I see as I travel or images in my dreams and I’ll make a sketch of it. I always have a little sketchbook in my purse and a bigger art kit and sketchbook when I travel. Sometimes the sketch becomes an assemblage, sometimes it stays a sketch.”

Betye Saar, ‘Drifting Toward Twilight,’ 2023 (installation view) | Photo by Joshua White / JWPictures. com. The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens

Saar had a very clear idea about the ambience she wanted to produce and she kept close tabs on its progress. She relates, “I’ve been back and forth to The Huntington many times these past months. I was selecting the wall colors, choosing the lighting effects, etc. until it all came together to create the right mood. I wanted to feel immersed in the room.”

Agustsson says she worked very closely with Lerman-Tan to ensure they carried out what her grandmother envisioned. The inter-generational component of this exhibition will extend to the catalogue to be published in the summer of 2024. Agustsson will write a Q&A piece that covers Saar’s life and her career. It focuses specifically on her childhood growing up in Pasadena and her visits to The Huntington as a child and teenager, gardening practice, and an interview about the new canoe installation.

It will have a Director’s foreword by Christina Nielsen, followed by a short essay by Ishmael Scott Reed, an American poet, novelist, playwright, and longtime friend of Saar, as well as a  re-publication of an archival interview he did with Saar in the 1970s. Lerman-Tan and Tiffany E. Barber, assistant professor of African American art at UCLA, will be contributing essays.    

I ask Agustsson what it was like to work on a project with someone she knows so well, and she replies, “I’ve worked with her in the past for years so that helped me capture her vision and facilitate dialogue between her and the museum. I realize that this is a very special and personal project given her upbringing in Pasadena so I wanted to establish that particular connection.”

“For me, I found it to be really inspiring and meaningful especially getting to interview her and learning more about her,” Agustsson says further. “Even though I’ve grown up with her, there are things I continue to discover about her. I learned that she liked tap dancing when she was a teenager. I had no idea, I never heard that before! She’s 97, she’s had so many amazing experiences, and she’s done different kinds of art work in various media – costume design, designing greeting cards, printmaking, collage, immersive installations like this one, and she was a seamstress. It doesn’t surprise me that she also did tap dancing.”

Saar is the matriarch of a close-knit family of artists, as Agustsson’s account of her grandmother’s influence in her childhood years and present life as an adult attests to. “Betye has three daughters and six grandchildren. We were always drawing and doing art as youngsters. But even now, we have themed family parties and we’re all very supportive of each other. In a way Betye working in diverse mediums – assemblage, printmaking, collage, design, painting – was passed down. Two of her daughters, Alison and my mother Lezley, are artists and her other daughter Tracye is a writer and her studio manager. Alison does printmaking and sculpture, my mom does painting, collage, and assemblage.”

Betye Saar and Sóla Saar Agustsson | Photo courtesy of Sóla Saar Agustsson

“I’m not really a visual artist but I do collages and dollhouses, which is like assemblage in a way. My cousin does printmaking and ceramics,” continues Agustsson. “My grandfather, Betye’s husband, Richard Saar was a ceramicist and my other cousin does set design, which relates to Betye being a costume designer. We like to go to flea markets together and are on the lookout to get each other certain things. My grandmother would also give me a lot of advice about art.”

Collecting found objects to create art is something Saar began doing since she was four or five years old. She says that whenever they moved to a new house, she would look through the previous owners’ trash to see what they threw away.   

It’s no wonder then that assemblage spoke to her. Saar reminisces, “In the 1970s I saw the work of Joseph Cornell, right here at the Pasadena Art Museum in fact. I was inspired by how he took ordinary objects and made them into art. He made art that was beautiful and clever and had a sense of humor. It made me want to do that too.”

I inquire if there’s one artwork she created that means more to her than the rest, which one is the most memorable piece she made and why. Saar answers, “I don’t really have a favorite but I have a few works of art that I like because the viewer is invited to make an offering. Mti (1973) and Mojotech (1987). I like involving the public and getting them to experience my work in different ways. It’s also very interesting to see what people leave as an offering. Sometimes it’s a gum wrapper or money or ticket stubs. But sometimes people will leave a drawing they made on site or return later with a photograph or poem. I keep all of these items and feel they have a special power from people connecting to my work.”

That tangible takeaway is something Saar hopes for. She says, “As an artist, one tries to elicit an emotion from the viewer. This can be a tricky thing because I want people to feel what they feel but not dictate it. I hope that people come and see my exhibition in the gallery and then go out and find their own inspiration in the gardens. That’s what I did.”

Betye Saar, ‘Drifting Toward Twilight,’ 2023 (installation view) | Photo by Joshua White / JWPictures.com. The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens

When I ask Agustsson what she wants viewers to take away, she replies, “It’s meditative and I think she wanted to convey that emotion. It mimics floating in a body of water looking at the twilight and the moon; it has a very cosmic feeling. With all the turmoil going on in the world and in life, the room feels like a reprieve. I don’t get caught up in thinking about its meaning in terms of words. It’s refreshing to walk away with just an emotional response to it. And that’s very much integral in her process of creating – getting across an emotion – and intuition is a lot of what guides her.”

Agustsson adds, “I just hope that visitors and aspiring artists will relate to her method in harvesting and assembling the work where she demonstrates you can make art out of everyday objects and things you find on the ground. And that they get inspiration after seeing the film, watching her work in the creative process with so much enthusiasm at 97 years old.”

Finally, I ask Saar what it means for her to have her installation become part of The Huntington’s permanent collection and she says, “Well, being from Pasadena it means a great deal to me. I came to the gardens as a child and now here I am as an adult, a 97-year old, with my art in this amazing museum. It’s truly an honor that my work is now part of the legacy of The Huntington.”

‘Betye Saar: Drifting Toward Twilight’ represents a homecoming for Saar. Without a doubt, Pasadenans will be proud of her significance in this community and celebrate her iconic status in Black feminist and American art.

But the installation will profoundly affect all visitors. As they step inside the room, they will at once be enveloped in its warm embrace. And as they read Saar’s poem painted on the wall, ‘The moon keeps vigil as a lone canoe drifts in a sea of tranquility seeking serenity in the twilight,’ they will feel transported to a calm and peaceful place.                                                                                         

Pasadena Artist Shares her Journey through her Art

Also published on 20 October 2023 on Hey SoCal

“Plumb Line” 48 x 72 oil on panel | Photo courtesy of Heather Horton

Canadian-born painter Heather Horton has been an artist all her life; she received her Master’s degree in Illustration from Sheridan College. But it was only when she joined Abbozzo Gallery in 2004 that she began exhibiting her works regularly. She has held solo and group shows over the years and her recent solo exhibition “Love Story” was held in Toronto, Ontario in September 2020.

In 2019, Horton met her future husband Joss Whedon in Los Angeles. When they decided to leave Ontario for warmer climes, they relocated to the United States in 2021. Then the couple moved to California on L.A.’s west side – Santa Monica – before eventually settling down in Pasadena in May last year. She discloses, “We had heard great things about the city, and we have been so delighted with our decision to move here. Lots of greenery, interesting architecture, an active art scene, and we appreciate that it has a serenity to it that we find inspiring. We look forward to exploring the city more as time goes by!”

Heather Horton | Courtesy Photo

And it’s here that Horton continues to practice her craft – taking photos of friends underwater in their pool and using the pictures as the basis for the oil paintings in this exhibition. Her 16th solo show “Immersion,” will be on display at Whimsy Pasadena in Old Town through Sunday, October 22. She will be painting live onsite at the gallery on Thursday, Friday and Saturday (October 19, 20, and 21) from 11am to 5pm to let the public in on her creative process and talk to visitors about her journey.

“Immersion” is an autobiographical journey of resilience. It investigates the internal complexities within simple moments: exploring trauma, womanhood, deep pain, and deeper gratitude. The exhibition introduces over 30 new oil paintings, which breathe new life into Horton’s renowned water series. It transports us beneath the surface into a twilight fantasia of luminous tranquility. Within these artworks, fabric, flesh, and liquid merge and nearly dissolve into one another, all bathed in the spellbinding interplay of wild and languid light from above.

“Madrona” 24 x 36 oil on panel | Photo courtesy of Heather Horton

Additionally, “Immersion” chronicles the evolution of Heather’s relationship with her own body, a journey that has traversed years of battling anorexia and depression, ultimately culminating in newfound confidence and grace, despite the challenges posed by major spinal surgery last spring.

Having endured a tumultuous childhood, Horton has long used art as a way of finding order in a life marked by subtle chaos. Her troubled past instilled in her a strong sense of self-reliance and a heightened awareness of emotions and movement. Her portraits and figures reflect a sense of fragility, often showing subjects who avert their gaze, are depicted from behind, or appear with their heads just above a surface we can’t quite grasp.

Horton’s art captures the world with a sense of wonder that avoids becoming overly sentimental or prescriptive. Instead, she encourages viewers to embark on their own journeys and find their own interpretations.

“The Chameleon” 30 x 30 oil on panel | Photo courtesy of Heather Horton

“I’m hoping that the viewers might be moved by the work, on a small level, or from a deeper place, as there are themes of floating, immersion but also surgery, health challenges, transitions, and introspection within,” states Horton. “If viewers see the work and are glad they did, or it moves them to reach out to someone they love and tell them so, or write a letter to a friend or someone in need, that would be amazing to me. Just showing the work to friends and people in the community and beyond brings a great feeling of peace and great emotion. After so much work, and surgery, and challenges, but also excitement, I’m excited to enjoy a bit of repose, reconnect and take a few deep breaths before submerging again into new worlds.”

After the exhibition ends, a portfolio of “Immersion” is set to be immortalized on the moon as a part of Samuel Peralta’s visionary Lunar Codex time capsule project. Horton’s artistic expressions reflect the experiences of countless women today, and her legacy is destined to span generations in these time capsules immortalized on the moon. It is such a fitting outcome for a painter whose works should live on beyond earth for eons to come.

Restored Shōya House at The Huntington Demonstrates Sustainable Living Practices

Also published on 20 October 2023 on Hey SoCal

Flowers bloom outside the gatehouse. | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal.com

Wouldn’t it be incredible to practically step back in time and experience what it was like to live in a rural village in 18th century Japan? Starting on October 21, visitors to The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens will have that unique opportunity when the Shōya House opens at the Japanese Garden (read previous article about the Shōya House here).   

During the press opening held on Friday, October 13, Karen Lawrence, president of The Huntington expressed her gratitude for the generosity of the Yokoi family who gifted their ancestral home to the beloved institution.

Karen Lawrence, president of The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens. | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

Lawrence remarks about this exceptional new destination at The Huntington. “This restored residential compound is truly a masterpiece and it offers a glimpse of life in rural Japan some 300 years ago. It’s the only example of this kind of architecture in the U.S. and its presence here wouldn’t have been possible without the generosity of the Yokoi family.”

“In Japan, the house was disassembled, restored, disassembled again, and shipped to us at The Huntington,” Lawrence adds. “Once the components of the house arrived, it was up to The Huntington to rebuild and provide context, including recreating the landscape and gatehouse.”

A signage at the house shows the Yokoi family crest. | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

It’s only fitting for the Shōya House to join the distinctive house Henry E. Huntington bought from Pasadena businessman George Turner Marsh that has been at the Japanese Garden, which has such a fascinating history. The Huntington’s information kit gives the following  chronology.                    

The building of the Japanese Garden began in 1911 and was completed in 1912. The garden, which is currently 12 acres, was inspired by the widespread Western fascination with Asian culture in the early 1900s. Henry E. Huntington purchased many of the garden’s plants and ornamental fixtures, as well as the Japanese House, from a failed commercial tea garden in Pasadena, located at the northeast corner of Fair Oaks Avenue and California Boulevard. When The Huntington opened to the public in 1928, the Japanese Garden became a major draw for visitors. Features such as the bell tower and bridge were newly built for the garden by Japanese American craftspeople.

Robert Hori, Gardens Cultural Director and Programs Director. | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

By World War II, staffing shortages – including those resulting from the incarceration of Japanese American employees – and the political climate led to the closure of parts of the Japanese Garden, and the Japanese House fell into disrepair. In the 1950s, members of the San Marino League helped support the refurbishment of the buildings and surrounding landscape.

In 1968, The Huntington expanded the Japanese Garden to include a bonsai collection, which now numbers in the hundreds, and a rock garden, the Zen Court. Since 1990, The Huntington has served as the Southern California site for the Golden State Bonsai Federation.

The ceremonial teahouse, called Seifū-an (the Arbor of Pure Breeze), was built in Kyoto in the 1960s and donated to The Huntington by the Pasadena Buddhist Temple. In 2010, the teahouse made a return trip to Japan for restoration, overseen by Kyoto-based architect Yoshiaki Nakamura (whose father built the original structure). It was then shipped back to San Marino and reassembled.

In 2011, a team of architects with backgrounds in historic renovation, horticulturists, landscape architects, engineers, and Japanese craftsmen undertook a yearlong, large-scale restoration of the historic core of the garden. The project included repairs to the central pond system and water infrastructure, along with increasing pathway accessibility and renovating the original faux bois (false wood) ornamental trellises.

A view of the house from the side. | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

The Japanese Garden continues to be a popular attraction to this day. However, as Lawrence points out, “What was missing was a traditional Japanese residence that could demonstrate the important historical relationship between the Japanese people, their culture, and the landscape. The iconic Japanese house in the original garden provides the idea of a Japanese residence but it  wasn’t really lived in.”

Lawrence clarifies, “The shōya house is completely different. It’s an exquisite example of a village leader’s residence where rural village life can be explored through the lens of 18th century architecture and farming practices. The residence was occupied by one family, generation after generation, over the course of three centuries. Mr. Yokoi is the 19th generation to own the house.”

The tile work on the roof. | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

“Today it provides us with a rich aesthetic experience of the beauty of Japanese building art and many insights into what it means to live sustainably on the land,” Lawrence adds. “We were fortunate to have artisans come from Japan to work alongside local architects, engineers, and construction workers to assemble the house here and recreate elements that would have surrounded it at the time when it housed a village leader or shōya. They created the wood and stonework features you see, as well as the roof tiles and plasterwork prioritizing traditions of Japanese carpentry, artisanship, and sensitivity to materials.”

Lawrence concludes by voicing her opinion that this will become a major visitor attraction in Southern California, as well as a primary resource for architects, scholars, students, teachers, and others interested in the complexities and beauty of traditional Japanese design, craftsmanship, and architectural practices. And that visitors it will appreciate the lived experience of what this meant and how it was sustained for 300 years.

Robert Hori, gardens cultural director and programs director, says, “It has really taken an entire village to build the head of a village’s house. It wasn’t just the botanical gardens, everyone at The Huntington has contributed in interpreting the house which will make a full experience for the visitors. They won’t be looking at an exhibit in a museum, they will be in that museum. They’ll be able to participate in rice planting, and see the changes of the season. This is something that exists nowhere else and can only live at The Huntington.”

The doors open so the outdoors and indoors blend seamlessly. | Photo by Joshua White / JWPictures.com. The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens

The construction team that undertook this project was headed by Yoshiaki Nakamura of Nakamura Sotoji Komuten, who oversaw the restoration of the teahouse in 2010. Hori discloses, “When Mr. Nakamura first came to The Huntington about 15 years ago, he toured it and he said, ‘Wow, this is something special.’ He saw the resources in the library (each year we have over a thousand scholars) and he said, ‘I want to create something that students, teachers, and researchers can explore and be inspired by.’ He wanted to bring traditional building and garden techniques here at The Huntington so they can be a primary resource for those who are not going to Japan.”

“We have also been blessed to have the partnership of many architects and professionals, including Mike Okamoto (U.S. Architect of Record),” continues Hori. “He has been a valuable partner in reassembling this house. You can imagine the challenges of bringing not just a 300-year-old house and re-erecting it, but bringing the metric system and having it meet U.S. building code. We are likewise fortunate to have Takuhiro Yamada (Hanatoyo Landscape Co. Ltd. (Kyoto, Japan) doing the landscape and really putting together the program.”

The formal garden. | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

“What we’d like to show is the beginning of landscape,” Hori expounds. “And that design starts

with the ability to control water and to move earth – and that’s exactly what a farmer is doing. We want visitors who go on a tour of the house to have the experience of being transported to 18th century Japan.”

Each time Hori gives a tour of the Shōya house, he begins at the terraced agricultural field,     where he notes a whole new animal population has taken as their home. “You’ll notice the terrain is sloped – this is how many of the farms were in Japan because it’s the most efficient way to move water from uphill to downhill.”

Nicole Cavender, Telleen/Jorgensen Director of Botanical Gardens. | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

Throughout the tour Hori impresses on everyone how these sustainability practices were a matter of survival for farmers centuries ago. And that sustainability is one of the biggest challenges we face today globally. 

And it’s an issue that Nicole Cavender, Telleen/Jorgensen Director of the Botanical Gardens, deeply cares about. She states, “I’d like to emphasize one aspect in particular that’s especially near and dear to me – we have here a model of sustainability practices. You’ll see how in this house, in this landscape, we’ve integrated and showcased the historical integration of agricultural systems, how water can be used and recycled. In the front as you come in, you see the agricultural landscape that showcases sustainable practices of using cover crop and companion planting. I’m really excited to be able to share these practices and hope to inspire people to integrate them into their own life.”

View of the private garden | Photo by Joshua White / JWPictures. com. The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens

Without hammering our head with it, The Huntington makes a compelling argument for practicing sustainability. By restoring the Shōya house and recreating the landscape which will grow vegetables and various crops that change through the seasons – and showing how the village head and townspeople lived – we will witness for ourselves how extraordinary beautiful the outcome can be. Would that in the foreseeable future, Cavender’s hope that their efforts to persuade us to do as these villagers did in 18th century Japan come to fruition.   

Centuries-old Japanese Heritage Shōya House Opens to the Public Oct. 21 at The Huntington

Also published on 10 October 2023 on Hey SoCal

The exterior of the Yokoi family’s historic family home in Marugame, Japan | Photo by Hiroyuki Nakayama / The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens

A 320-year old Japanese Heritage Shōya House from Marugame, Japan, has been carefully and meticulously disassembled and restored then shipped to The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens in San Marino, California. Sited on a two-acre lot at the storied Japanese Garden, this remarkable architectural and cultural gem will open to the public on October 21, 2023.

During the Edo or Tokugawa period in Japan – between 1603 and 1867 – a single government ruled under a feudal system. It was marked by a flourishing economy and peaceful times. Samurai warriors, who were no longer necessary to protect their villages, moved to the cities to become artists, teachers, or shōya.

Successive generations of the Yokoi family served as the shōya of a small farming community near Marugame, a city in Japan’s Kagawa prefecture. Acting as an intermediary between the government and the farmers, shōya’s duties included storing the village’s rice yield, collecting taxes, maintaining census records, and documenting town life, as well as settling disputes and enforcing the law. He also ensured that the lands remained productive by preserving seeds and organizing the planting and harvesting. The residence functioned as the local town hall and village square.       

In 2016, Los Angeles residents Yohko and Akira Yokoi offered their historic family home to The Huntington. Representatives of the institution made numerous visits to the structure in Marugame and participated in study sessions with architects in Japan before developing a strategy for moving the house and reconstructing it at The Huntington.

The agricultural fields and the gatehouse | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

The Huntington raised over $10 million through private donations to accomplish the project. Since 2019, artisans from Japan have been working alongside local architects, engineers, and construction workers to assemble the structures and re-create the traditional wood and stonework features, as well as the roof tiles and plaster work, prioritizing the traditions of Japanese carpentry, artisanship, and sensitivity to materials.

Visitors to The Huntington will get to see the Japanese Heritage Shōya House, a 3,000-square-foot residence built around 1700. A remarkable example of sustainable living, the compound consists of a small garden with a pond, an irrigation canal, agricultural plots, and other elements that closely resemble the compound’s original setting. 

Robert Hori, the gardens cultural director and programs director at The Huntington, generously gives me a tour of the shōya House while he talks about the project. He begins, “Visitors will first view the agricultural fields and the gatehouse. In much of Asia, rice was a staple food and farmers played a very important role. Here we have terraced rice fields on one side and a field growing a variety of crops on the other side. This will give the public a sense of the seasons, the life style of the Edo period in Japan and what the pre-modern way of life was like.”

The gatehouse | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

As we reach the gatehouse, Hori says, “This compound was open during the day for business and at night the gates were shut. The gate was built for events and also to protect the house from weather because Japan and much of Asia are susceptible to typhoons. The gatehouse was damaged in a typhoon in1970 so this structure was not original to the house; it’s a replica based on existing models from the same period in Japan and photographs.

The exterior of the house with the formal entrance | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

“Inside the gatehouse is a dirt courtyard used for several purposes including drying the crops and where community gatherings – like harvest festivals – might have taken place. The house has two entryways. The formal entrance on the left has sliding panels, and was originally for samurai, dignitaries, and government representatives. Inside the main house, visitors will first see the front rooms, which were used for official functions. The doorway on the right, which Huntington visitors will use, was the everyday entrance for farmers and craftspeople. It has stamped earth floor. The front area consists of public rooms where business was conducted, and the back are the private quarters.”

Visitors entering the public rooms can watch a video that shows the disassembly and relocation of the house and its integration with the surroundings at The Huntington. Additionally, visitors will be able to learn about the traditional skills and tools of Japanese carpentry, such as the wood joinery that was used in constructing the house.

Visitors can watch a video about how the house was disassembled in Japan and reconstructed at The Huntington | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

Hori continues, “I was part of the team that went to Japan in 2016 to look at the house to see if we could move it, how we were going to do it, and what changes had to be made to it so it could be approved. I was there again for part of the process of taking down the house but not for the entire nine months it took to disassemble it. The crew that took it apart inspected each part for any damage, cleaned, and repaired them. The house arrived at The Huntington in January of 2020.

“Everything in the house uses traditional joinery techniques. We had several crews of carpenters, plasterers, roofers, and tilers who came from Japan to work on it. It was a two-year process which was hampered by the pandemic in March of that year. It was difficult to get people to travel so there were periods when people went back and they had to quarantine and that really slowed things down. Additionally, there weren’t that many flights.”

Clay wood fire cooking stove | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

A large clay wood fire cooking stove is the first thing visitors will see. Hori speculates that it used to cook perhaps as much as 60 cups of rice to feed the people working in the house and also during planting and harvest. These community efforts were spread out over several weeks.

In the kitchen area is a brick stove. Hori says, “We couldn’t move the one original to the house but this is the type of stove they had. The source of water for the kitchen is a well located just outside and there’s a sliding door you can open to access it.”

The day room, work space, and sleeping quarters | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

We then move to the private rooms and we take off our shoes. Hori describes, “This lower level was part of the kitchen which was the center of activity. It was probably where they dried and salted vegetables that would last the whole year. The upper level has a floor covering called tatami, mats that measure three-by-six feet. This was the family’s day room where they conducted their activities – they would eat their meals here, then they would use it as a work space after they put away their dishes. Japanese houses like this didn’t have central heating so everyone stayed close together near the fire.”

As we reach another area, Hori describes, “This was probably where they slept. It would have cabinets with futons or bedrolls, and sliding doors could close off the area at night.”

The private garden that can be accessed from the master’s room | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

In the back is the master’s room. It has a display alcove called a tokonoma where a painting, a scroll, or a flower arrangement can be hung. There’s also a door that opens out into a small private garden.

The Buddhist shrine | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

We then go into the public spaces for dignitaries and the first room we enter has two shrines – one is Shinto and the other next to it is Buddhist. Explains Hori, “They had two religious systems that co-existed and people were both Shinto and Buddhist. Everything in Shinto is considered having a spirit; they worship mountain or forest gods. Buddhism, on the other hand, goes back over 2,500 years and started in India; it spread to China, and then to Japan. Buddhism also has a cultural and writing component from China that includes language and Chinese characters. The Japanese had their own language; they had a word for mountain, which is ‘yama’ like Fujiyama. The approximation in Chinese for mountain is ‘shan’ or ‘san.’ The same concept applies to religion – they have a cosmic god and a Japanese god.”

The main room where distinguished guests were received has a tokonoma on the side; it’s similar to the one in the master’s accommodations. A shoji opens to reveal a beautiful formal garden planted with carefully shaped pines and camellias, as well as cycads – considered a symbol of luxury in 18th-century Japan. The rocks in the garden came directly from the original property and were placed in the exact same spots in relation to the house and a koi pond.

The garden and pond in the formal area | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

I ask what the condition of the house was when they went to Japan to look at it and Hori replies, “The last time it was rebuilt was in the 19th century around 1860 to 1870. It had also been modernized later – they put in electricity and flush toilets. But it hadn’t been lived in for over 30 years; the last person who resided there was the grandmother who passed away in the 1980s. And when a house is unoccupied, several things fall unto disrepair.”

About what challenges they faced after the house arrived here, Hori says, “Our first challenge was how could we construct the house so it passes the building code? We also have earthquakes in California so we had to build it to meet seismic requirements. We’d never done this before so we didn’t know if it was a viable undertaking. And, as far as I know, this is the first house of this size to be built at a public institution. This is the first Japanese house of this age and size in the United States.”

Standard houses in Japan are not this size, clarifies Hori. “Because of their responsibility, the shōya would have bigger dwellings with more amenities. A regular residence wouldn’t have this public area. The typical layout of an ordinary person’s house would have a kitchen, a dayroom/living room/dining room and a sleeping room. If you lived in the city your house might be twelve-by-twelve-square-feet. You ate, worked, and slept in the same room – something we call a studio.”

The vegetable garden in the back of the house | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

The house and the area surrounding it are models of sustainable living. Hori declares, “They probably didn’t have the word for sustainability but they had the practice in place. If they didn’t lead sustainable life styles, they wouldn’t be alive – it was a matter of survival. The keys to sustainability are reducing waste, reusing, recycling, and repairing. For example, these glass doors don’t line up exactly because they come from different parts of the house. They have been repaired and reused, thus reducing waste.”

“Growing your own food is an example of a sustainable life style,” adds Hori. “Since we are a botanical garden, we tell everyone that farming is the root of ornamental landscapes because it has to do with being able to move earth and control water. In the other gardens – the Chinese Garden or the Japanese Garden – we have ponds and streams, and they’re all part of an irrigation system.”

The pit toilet | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

As we walk to the back of the house Hori shows me a covered circular ground container and says, “Thinking about how we treat waste, we recreated a pit toilet. There’s a real lavatory inside, but having this type of toilet is one of the keys to sustainability – reducing waste. In Japan, China, and much of Asia, they use human waste for fertilizer.”

Hori also discloses that there were two storehouses on the property – one for household items and the other for rice. They haven’t been built but they have the footprint of one of the storage houses.

“Construction of the irrigation canal is underway,” Hori explains when we walk by it. “Japan gets about 100 inches of water from the rain but even in countries with an abundance of water, you have to save the water, control the water, and use it for agriculture; this is part of the agricultural system. In Japan and other Asian countries, they use gravity – they have terraced paddies and fields to move water from the top to the bottom. Using natural forces instead of electricity or a pump is conserving resources.”

The back of the house | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

“What we’re recreating here is a village – a community,” Hori pronounces. “It is looking at another culture and how people in the past addressed sustainability. And it’s one of the biggest global problems we face today.”

The Yokois made a well-considered decision to endow their shōya house to The Huntington, an institution renowned for preserving historical artifacts and cultural treasures. Under its stewardship, this remnant of history will be protected for centuries to come.

And The Huntington has taken this responsibility a step further by restoring the shōya house and its surroundings to educate us and demonstrate that it’s possible to live sustainably. It’s a lesson we have to heed and practice to help save our planet and ensure not only our survival but also that of future generations.                                         

Create Novel and Exciting Gastronomic Experiences with Sake and Food Pairings

Also published on 2 October 2023 on Hey SoCal

The 32nd Japanese Food & Restaurant Expo was held at the Pasadena Convention Center on September 23 | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

Most American diners and food enthusiasts know that Wagyu beef makes the best steaks and other meat dishes. After sushi and ramen, it is latest Japanese food to gain popularity in the U.S. Unlike sushi and ramen, though, it can be found on every American steakhouse’s menu and not just at Japanese restaurants. And we value Kobe – Wagyu beef from black cattle raised in Japan’s Hyogo Prefecture – for its flavor, tenderness, and perfectly-marbled texture. It can be prepared as steak, sukiyaki, shabu-shabu, sashimi, and teppanyaki.

The company behind the Japanese cuisine that largely changed the American culinary landscape is Mutual Trading Co., Inc. It was founded in 1926 as a co-op by several Little Tokyo businessmen to import commodities from Japan, including kitchenware for home use and foods – mostly dried and canned. Though the company ceased operations during the war, recovery afterwards was quick and it flourishes to this day.

In 1989 Mutual Trading held its first Japanese Restaurant show as a modest chinaware sale held at their warehouse area and parking lot. Their staff designed and produced the event – from the theme that changed yearly, to product selection, to seminar highlights – and even procured special items aimed at filling customers’ needs. It was so successful that in 2013 they had to find a larger venue. (Read related story about the company’s growth and its role in the evolution of Japanese cuisine)

After a four-year absence because of the pandemic and post-Covid health and safety concerns, Mutual Trading returned to the Pasadena Convention Center on September 23 for the 32nd annual Japanese Food and Restaurant Expo. About 3,000 pre-registered for the expo, with 146 suppliers participating. Attendees were business owners, managers, buyers, and chefs representing various trades – restaurateurs, retailers, and wholesalers. There was a significant increase in the number of wholesalers and Thai business operators.        

Shrimp tempura sample at the Japanese Food and Restaurant Expo | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

Atsuko Kanai, Mutual Trading’s executive vice-president, talks about the challenges they navigated and still face today, what this year’s event had to offer, and the future of the food industry.

“Our clients know that we hold the show every year around fall,” Kanai begins. “Obviously, no one asked during the pandemic. But they started asking last year if we were going to have the event. However, it takes months for us and the suppliers to prepare for this so we need the reservation from them about six months prior to the expo. Additionally, Japan was very conservative; a lot of companies were not sending employees here because of health and safety concerns. And without our suppliers – many of whom are from Japan – we have no show or customers won’t have fun. We decided to hold it this year when we were certain about safety and we knew Japanese suppliers would come.”

“Chefs want this show so we try to bring in things that they would appreciate,” clarifies Kanai. “There are 146 suppliers participating from Japan, China, Southeast Asia, Canada, Mexico, the U.S., and other places. They carry dry items and ingredients like tempura flour and rice; chilled, frozen, and super frozen grocery items like beef and other meats; a line of kitchenware for the chefs; alcohol like beer, wine, hard liquor, and so forth. The school that trains the chefs joins the show as well.”

Glassware suppliers’ various items and wares | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

“However, Japanese food isn’t just for the Japanese anymore – it’s for everyone,” Kanai points out. “So we have an obligation to grow the industry for our business and our customers’ business. We also believe that food is a gateway to cultural understanding, much the same way as sports, fashion, and the arts unify us and transcend wars and politics.”

Kanai has been with the company for several decades and has witnessed how people’s perception of Japanese food has advanced through the years. She recounts, “Thirty years ago, Americans who came to our booth would say, ‘I love Japanese food.’ And when I asked why, they would say, ‘Because it’s healthy and good for the mind.’ But recently, the answer I get the most is, ‘It’s fun.’ People who grew up during the depression and war wanted something bright and positive while those in their 20s and 30s experience a new flavor and it feeds into their knowledge. I’m looking forward to hearing what people say 30 years from now.”

The pandemic upended everyone’s life and altered what we thought of as normal day-to-day existence. The food business, in particular, was severely affected and Mutual Trading quickly  reacted to mitigate the anxiety and pressure caused by the crisis.              

“No one was able to go grocery-shopping, especially the elderly. So we started a food delivery service,” states Kanai. “Depending on where the customers are, they would order online and, with a minimum order, we would deliver certain products to their home. People didn’t mind the large quantities because they were able to buy products that supermarkets don’t carry. We offered the service for a couple of years and discontinued it only this past spring.”

Ingredients for Japanese cooking available for purchase at the expo | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

“On the restaurant and wholesale side, we couldn’t in good conscience send our reps on sales calls,” Kanai continues, “We asked them, though, to make sure they kept in touch with their customers – who were themselves going through hardship and were having to cut back service hours and staff – by Zoom or phone calls. All our suppliers in Japan were also worried because Mutual Trading wasn’t ordering from them. First of all, there was a supply chain breakdown. And when that stabilized, our Japanese suppliers were disgruntled that we didn’t buy more. But that’s because we couldn’t turn around to sell them to restaurants. The bigger issue was that they had lost faith in Mutual Trading. So we made sure we kept our suppliers’ confidence by sending out newsletters as a means of direct contact. We let them know that the slowdown wasn’t just in the Japanese restaurants but was also happening in the fast food and take-out business.”

Kanai says, “Having been through a pandemic, we’ve learned to be flexible. We can pivot when needed while ensuring our employees’ safety. We still face a few challenges post-pandemic. The first of which is less-trained staff, like chefs; they can’t learn on the cuff. So we’re teaching them to use items they don’t have to prepare from scratch when they cook. Some of the sauces will already have seven out of the ten ingredients and they will only need to add to the base. That eliminates the hard part, like making the dashi or umami.

“Another challenge is meeting the demands of customers on extreme price points. While some like turnkey volume priced items, there are others who want to have a rare food experience like the omakase – $300 to $500 dinners. So we have to give something different for that market. We thought Kobe beef was hot but then we discovered that Miyazake beef (the four-consecutive winner of the Wagyu Olympics Championship) was better. And now we’ve found another category of beef that’s even better. We constantly look for, and try to achieve something different to distinguish from the other.”

Mutual Trading is training chefs in the art of sake and food pairing | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

With that in mind, Mutual Trading brought in several new products and suppliers to this year’s show. They also shined a light on Japanese liquors and wines. Kanai explains, “We’re trying to start a trend showing that sake isn’t just a beverage – it should go with food. We’re pushing the gastronomic way of enjoying liquor like the Europeans do. Californians like to guzzle, as they do with beer. That’s fine too, but we’re striving to educate diners how to have a more pleasant meal. People are familiar with wine pairings, but wine is very different from sake. It’s not to say that it’s better or worse. We’re trying to compare the two and point out where the differences are and what’s good for one or the other.”

This year’s expo highlighted the four workshops presented by chefs, bartenders, and master sommeliers to achieve that goal.   

The first workshop, called ‘Prestige in Every Pour: Indulge in the Mystery of Black Label Sake,’ featured three premium sakes and a demonstration on how they elevate an understanding of sake service, perfect food companions, and beyond.

Workshop 2 – ‘Taste the Craftsmanship: A Journey through Time and Flavor with Sokujo, Kimoto, and Yamahai’ – unveiled the artistry behind sake flavors shaped by diverse brewing methods and showed how to harmonize the three distinct brews with culinary pairings to create a sensory symphony.

The third workshop, whimsically named ‘AwaMORE Please! Unravel the Enchanting Flavors of Awamori, Tropical Okinawa’s Distilled Spirit,’ took participants on a tasting odyssey into Okinawan culture and a discovery of the perfect food companions.

In Workshop 4: ‘Japanese Perfection: Shochu Cocktails Reimagined with Kuramoto Ice,’ Naoto Yonezawa, founder of Kuramoto Ice USA himself, served as translator for Takaeaki Kimura – manager and bartender of dining bar JIMHALL, in Kanazawa, Japan, and influential mixologist – who showed his signature cocktails blending rum, coffee, and vermouth.              

Master bartender Takeaki Kimura showing how to stir water in ice | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

Japanese cuisine has come a long way from its early introduction into the American dining culture. Going to a Japanese restaurant for lunch or dinner is now a common, everyday choice. Almost everyone is tech savvy and is on social media posting photos of their meals. And that helps all restaurants, not just those serving Japanese food.        

Kanai confirms, “On the surface, consumers today know a lot more than they did 50 or 30 years ago because of things they find online. Perhaps, and maybe more importantly, travel is the biggest factor in furthering the restaurant business. When people travel, it’s all about sight-seeing, experiencing new places, and trying out food. People don’t just go to Japan to look at temples, bridges, and palaces; they want to eat. Them going abroad and coming back is feeding into our business.”

That said, the pandemic has left a trail of problems that continues to beset the Japanese food business – staff shortage. Those who used to work in restaurant service didn’t come back after Covid. It’s a statewide problem and not limited to Japanese restaurants. However bleak that might sound, Kanai believes that the future is sunny.   

Workshop presenters and schedule at the expo | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

“Southern Californians are looking for different food experiences, and it isn’t exclusively Japanese food. The Michelin people keep skipping us, thinking that Northern California has the monopoly on exciting, innovative food. But the chefs are changing; I don’t see too many traditional Japanese food being successful. Nobu is a favorite among diners but it isn’t serving  Japanese food, it’s fusion. And I think it’s happening with Chinese food too – the restaurants aren’t just Cantonese, or Taiwanese – chefs are modernizing their offerings and are creating the new wave.”                                                  

The Western San Gabriel Valley, Pasadena specifically, is a foodie heaven. It’s every gourmet’s paradise! There are, in fact, over 2,000 restaurants dotting the area, from Duarte to Alhambra – from fast food chains, to hole-in-the wall mom and pop cafés, to Michelin-recognized restaurants – offering a global cuisine.

Eating places that cater to the taste of this largely Asian market are enjoying a booming business. Omakase is not just being offered in Japanese restaurants, but at American steakhouses as well. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched to imagine that chefs and restaurateurs could take their cue from the expo’s workshops and put on sake and food pairings as a mainstay

M. G. Rawls Completes Series with Third Book ‘The Sorts of Pasadena Hollow: Henry’s Hopes’

Also published on Hey SoCal on 14 September 2023

Chapter 28 ‘Extirpation’ illustration by J.J. Dunn | Rawls says, “I’m fascinated with the idea that there are extirpated animals and it makes me wonder whether they’ll come back | Photo courtesy of M.G. Rawls

While enjoying a refreshing glass of iced tea – and maybe a sandwich – on the balcony of M.G. Rawls’s home, you may get a sighting of a black bear. Or maybe a mountain lion. A review of her security camera from the previous night’s outdoor activity might show nocturnal creatures having free run of the creek that abuts her property.

They are the inspirations for the characters that inhabit The Sorts of Pasadena Hollow, a trilogy of young adult books created by Rawls in 2019 (Sorts are people who can transform into animals). Her first book, Hannah’s Fires, at 166 pages, follows a teenager’s story as she settles into her new home in Pasadena Hollow. The second installment, Tony’s Tales, is 224 pages and focuses on Hannah’s first friend there. The last in the series is Henry’s Hopes, which is 332 pages long and has just been released on Amazon as an ebook (order it here). It chronicles the life of an elderly Tongva shaman, one of the earliest residents in the area, who also serves as mentor for the young Sorts.

Chapter 1 ‘A Red Dragonfly and Birch Beer’ illustration by J. J. Dunn | Rawls says, “This red dragonfly landed on a single upright branch of a small apple tree in my yard. His face was so expressive, I couldn’t resist including him in my story. Birch beer (non-alcoholic) was a staple of my New England childhood and later visits.” / Photo courtesy of M. G. Rawls

Rawls graciously invites me for lunch followed by a short interview for a second article about her books (read first article here). I mention that each of the three books became increasingly longer, and ask if she planned it that way or if more ideas just came to her as she wrote.

“My initial thought was always to have three books but the audience would start at 5th grade and they would mature as I went along,” Rawls replies. “At the same time, it would help me, since I was a new writer, to be able to write in a way that I was comfortable with with each book. So you can see my progression through my work – it starts out simpler, then gets more complicated. I was always hoping that the reader who liked the book in 5th grade would like the next in 6th, and so on, as they were reading. I was writing it for middle schoolers and older.”

“With the exception of a few supporting characters, the main people in Henry’s Hopes were already part of the first,” Rawls adds. “One of the comments I received from readers is that there are so many to keep track of, so I included a list and description of characters at the beginning of each book.”  

Rawls kept to a fixed idea about how each book will flow. She explains, “Consistent with I told you in the first interview, the concept was the same with all three books. I created the chapter titles first and then built the story for each section. And what I wrote inspired me as I fleshed out that chapter. I pretty much stayed with the same titles I started out with; I made very little deviation from them.”          

Chapter 3 ‘Till Death Do Part’ illustration by J. J. Dunn| Rawls claims, “This one is pure fantasy. Thankfully, no one I know (except for Sparkle Bitters) ever sliced off the tail of a marine iguana.” / Photo courtesy of M. G. Rawls

I then ask if she has a favorite character in her books, and Rawls responds, “You had a similar question the first time you wrote an article about The Sorts of Pasadena Hollow and my answer is: if I did, I wouldn’t say. Although each book has its own unique characters. In the first, there’s Hannah, the young adult girl with the emotional constraints within her. In the second, there’s Tony, who’s somewhat reckless; I meant for Tony’s Tales to be a boys’ book; and in the third – the adult book – there’s Henry, the Tongva spiritual leader. He wants the best for everybody but he doesn’t necessarily go about it the right way; he tends to be Machiavellian.”    

“Did the idea to write a book set in your neck of the woods happen organically or was there a particular moment or instance when it occurred?” I query. Rawls replies, “The inspiration for this series came from an article in the L.A. Times – which I included in Hannah’s Fires – about an engineer who was convinced there were half-lizards living deep under the ground with a cache of gold and arranged to dig for it. I was so intrigued by that article and it motivated me to create these characters.

“Besides that, we live next to a creek and I can hear the water running – especially when the door is open at night. Most (not all) of the animal events in my books have their genesis in reality. In the first book, for example, there’s a raven who tries to steal Hannah’s bracelet and pretends he hurt his wing to try to get sympathy from her because he likes her. About 10 or 15 years ago, my husband found what he thought was an injured juvenile raven. We took it in for the night and the next morning there was such a squawking outside, it woke us up. Dozens of ravens were on our fence and across the street staring at us – it was clear what they wanted. We brought out the juvenile and he flew off unhurt. My daughter named that raven Nicky and she would look for it at her school. I later heard that ravens are very smart and will sometimes feign injury to get attention.”

“As I said during your first interview, I had been nurturing this story in my mind since we moved here in 1988. When the idea to write these books happened, all the stories that have accumulated over the years living here started coming back to me,” she continues. “In 2019, I began writing them as notes on my iPhone in the early morning and they got longer and longer. Finally I started pruning it out and thought ‘Oh, this is interesting.’ It gave me comfort – it was a world I could escape into.”   

Chapter 11 ‘The Jeweled Koi’ illustration by J. J. Dunn | Rawls states, “I had a number of goldfish growing up including one named ‘Goldy’ who lived for several years until one day she jumped out and the consequences were tragic. The jewels were inspired by a book I read where the rulers kept giant kois in ponds and they attached precious jewels to their tails.” / Photo courtesy of M. G. Rawls

Unlike some popular fantasy young adult books set in dystopian worlds, the Sorts live in a utopian society. Rawls intentionally created an inclusive world where everyone is accepted. Without calling attention to it, she ensured there was representation for people of diverse race, age, and sexual orientation.                            

While some authors say they wish they had written something differently, Rawls stands by what she has created. “I’m fine with how they all turned out. If there was something I put in the book that sent me on a different path, I went along where that led me. That’s not to say I abandoned an idea or that I didn’t have a particular destination – I had the chapter titles to guide me – but the road wasn’t restricted.”

The ending to her third book wasn’t planned in advance. Rawls reveals in jest, “A writer I know once told me that every story needs to have an arc. Until she said that I hadn’t heard of the word. I didn’t know what it meant; I think I had to look it up because I was embarrassed. So I worked on my arc. Seriously, though, I had an idea how I wanted it to end, but not the specifics. It only came to me as I got there.”          

Chapter 33 “Wedding of Sorts’ illustration by J. J. Dunn | Rawls describes, “I thought the Tongva phrase ‘My heart is with you’ was appropriate for a wedding book. J. J. Dunn based her painting on her husband’s German family book. I added the stink bug and hibiscus from my yard.” / Photo courtesy of M. G. Rawls

When I ask her to describe how she felt after completing the last book in the trilogy, Rawls simply answers, “These characters have taken a life of their own – my job is done!”

At the end of Henry’s Hopes, we find Lydia as the voice for the characters and the narrator of events we’ve been following. It comes as a surprise. And yet it’s because she isn’t a Sort – not in spite of it – that makes her the logical storyteller. As Rawls says, “The events that happen are everyday occurrences for the Sorts so they don’t find them interesting. But they’re not normal activities for Lydia so she’s fascinated by them. Being an investigative reporter, she thinks of them as a mystery to be unraveled.”

Rawls’s characters grow with her as she matures in her writing. While she starts out tentative in Hannah’s Fires, she gets more confident in Tony’s Tales, and reaches her stride in Henry’s Hopes. In the same vein, a reader slowly gains insight about them and inevitably becomes invested in Hannah, Tony, Henry, and all the Sorts in Pasadena Hollow… and feels sad that there won’t be another book to look forward to. But Rawls also leaves a huge gap where a reader can infer that events will have transpired, leaving the possibility open for her to pick up where she left off.

As with painters and other artists, authors cede control of their work once it’s out there for the public to make of it what they will. So we can imagine for ourselves milestones happening during that gap – or

Chinese Printmaking Exhibition at USC PAM Shines Light on Undervalued Art Form

Also published on 8 August 2023 on Hey SoCal

Shao Keping’s “Floating to the Future” 1981 Woodcut print | Photo courtesy of USC Pacific Asia Museum

USC Pacific Asia Museum (USC PAM) continues its mission and vision to further intercultural understanding through the arts of Asia and the Pacific Islands with Imprinting in Time: Chinese Printmaking at the Beginning of a New Era. On view from August 11 through November 12, 2023, the exhibition looks at printmaking by Chinese artists from the 1980s to the present and analyzes the unique narrative of the medium within the contexts of cultural, academic, sociopolitical, and economic changes in recent Chinese history.

Imprinting in Time is curated by Danielle Shang, a Los Angeles based art historian and exhibition organizer. Her research focuses on the impact of globalization, urban renewal, social change, and class restructuring on art-making and the narrative of art history.

He Kun’s “Stretch” 2003 Reduction woodcut print | Courtesy Photo / USC Pacific Asia Museum

Woodcut originated in China, dating as far back as the Han Dynasty (206 B.C. to 220 A.D). The first woodblock fragments were of silk printed with flowers in three colors. Much later – in the early 20th century – it became a popular art form used by Chinese progressives to advocate for social change. The New Woodcut Movement hit its stride in China from 1912 through 1949.

In an article about the history of the movement (From New Woodcut to the No Name Group: Resistance, Medium and Message in 20th Century China) New York-based artist Chang Yuchen wrote that Lu Xun was probably the most significant among these activists. He established the Morning Flower Society in 1929, which published journals that introduced foreign literature and art to Chinese audiences. Two of the volumes were dedicated to modern woodcuts – considered by Lu Xun as the most accessible and efficient means for disseminating revolutionary ideas among the masses.

The Communist Party became a powerful force during the Sino-Japanese War and Mao Zedong exerted his authority. He delivered a famous speech at the Yan’an Conference on Literature and Arts in May 1942, where he declared “Literature and art are subordinate to politics, but in their turn exert a great influence on politics” and quoted a poem by Lu Xun to support that view. Following his speech, progressive artists and writers moved to Yan’an to produce art that responded to Mao’s call. What began as a pursuit of communication, however, was reduced to serving as the Communist Party’s marketing tool.               

In 1979, the Ministry of Culture restored the party memberships of artists who had been sent to labor camps and persecuted during the Cultural Revolution. One of these was Jiang Feng, who played a crucial role in the New Woodcut Movement. He was appointed director of the Central Academy of Fine Arts, and later as chairman of the reconstituted Chinese Artists Association.

Yu Youhan’s “Chairman Mao in Discussion with the Peasants of Shaoshan” 2006 lithograph | Courtesy Photo / USC Pacific Asia Museum

Another suspected ‘rightist’ – Liu Xun – was released from incarceration and named head of the Beijing Municipal Artists Association. When he learned about the group of plein air painters – who later became known as the No Name Group – who managed to work under such impossible conditions, Liu Xun organized an official exhibition of their work. More than 2,700 people came to the show on the first day.

However, without the hostile conditions that kept them united in their art, the No Name Group slowly drifted apart. Some of them immigrated to other countries and some stopped painting altogether. Those who continued painting – and remained nameless – were resistant to the booming market for Chinese contemporary art just as they refused to go along with politics. 

The emergence of etching, lithograph, silkscreen, and digital devices in the 1980s added new energy to the medium. Most artists included in USC PAM’s exhibition were academically trained printmakers; however, a few have established their reputations in other media and explored printmaking as an additional aesthetic in their practices.

Su Xinping’s “Fish Feast” 1998 Lithograph | Courtesy Photo / USC Pacific Asia Museum

Museum curator Rebecca Hall states, “Imprinting in Time is an exciting exhibition for USC Pacific Asia Museum to share with the public because all but a few of the artworks in the exhibition come from the museum’s permanent collection. Formed around the recently donated Charles T. Townley collection of contemporary Chinese art, Danielle Shang did an outstanding job of teasing out the strengths of the Townley collection and finding further artworks to supplement her thesis in PAM’s permanent collection, some of which have not been exhibited in many years.”

“Printmaking, particularly woodcut, is uniquely important in modern Chinese history because it was instrumental for disseminating ideologies of the nation-state to the masses from the 1930s to the 1980s,” says Shang. “It is a perfect example of hybridizing a traditional Chinese medium that has been around for centuries with modernist techniques from the West.”

The exhibition will show 60 works organized into three sections: the Modern Woodcut Movement; the Post Mao Era; and Crisis and Hope Since the 1990s.

Zhen Xu’s “School of Fish 3” 1997 Woodcut print | Courtesy Photo / USC Pacific Asia Museum

Modern Woodcut Movement

Among all the printmaking techniques, the woodblock is most significant in modern Chinese history for articulating social commentary and nationalistic sentiments. The monumental figure who initiated the movement was not a visual artist but the writer, collector, and activist Lu Xun (1881-1936). In the early 1930s, Lu introduced Käthe Kollwitz’s woodcut to Chinese artists, who immediately embraced the medium for its effectiveness in engaging a broad public. These artists began to produce prints with simplified but highly suggestive forms and figures to depict the violence, injustice, and angst that plagued Chinese society.

After Mao Zedong’s speech at the Yan’an Forum on Literature and Art (1942), woodcut was given singular priority, and its subjects shifted from social critiques to celebrating the bright new life under Communist control. Subsequently, the woodcut printmaking that hybridized German Expressionism, Soviet Social Realism, Chinese traditional water-based printing techniques, and folk arts’ vernacular styles was established as a major discipline in all art schools and employed largely for propaganda purposes to serve the state after the creation of the People’s Republic of China in 1949.

Xue Song’s “Coca Cola” (9/66) 2005 Serigraph | Courtesy Photo / USC Pacific Asia Museum

Post Mao Era

After 1976, while many artists continued to produce works that celebrated the socialist vision of modernity, others began to explore the notion of individuality and new graphic effects. The rise of etching, lithograph, silkscreen, and digital devices added new energy to the medium. Meanwhile, distinct regional schools emerged, notably the Great Northern Wilderness and the Yunnan School.

Contrary to earlier times when human figures and narrative themes dominated printed pictures, landscapes, and abstract compositions became popular. Some artists intentionally evoked the traditional Chinese ideal of integrating calligraphy, painting, and poetry when combining images with texts.

Shang expounds on the regional schools, the art style, and the artists who emerged during this period.

“Since the late 1970s, artists in Yunnan Province, including Zheng Xu and He Kun, turned their attention to local ethnic groups, neighboring Southeast Asian cultures and the ancient Chinese technique known as heavy color painting 工笔重彩画 that emphasizes line drawing and bold colors. Figures depicted by the Yunnan School artists are flat, geometric, semi-abstracted, and energized with bright colors, reminiscent of cubism and fauvism. Motifs incorporated into their works are derived not only from ancient Buddhist cave paintings but also from local traditional garments and decorations.”

“In the 1980s, Zheng and He among other printmakers in Yunnan began to create reduction woodcuts to produce heavy color prints,” Shang adds. “A color reduction woodcut is simply a relief print that is carved, inked, and printed multiple times using only one piece of woodblock. The entire edition must be printed at once since carving destroys the wood incrementally.

“The artists also established several workshops in the region to invite people from rural communities to make art, positioning printmaking at the intersections of arts practice, social engagement, and cultural restoration.”

Men were the dominant figures in this art form. Shang reveals, “Very few female artists were active in the history of Chinese printmaking. One extraordinary exception is Chen Haiyan (b. 1955, China), who, in her cycle of DREAM, developed a distinct style charged with raw, idiosyncratic, and expressive energy. The series narrates 20 of the artist’s dreams in monochrome woodcuts, integrating texts into images. The technique she employs to make the prints is known as touyin 透印 or ‘penetrating print.’ First, ink is rolled onto the wood block where a sheet of paper is smoothed on top. The next step is to burnish the paper with a spoon, rubbing until the ink soaks all the way through. Unlike other printing techniques, which create mirror images, touyin can be viewed from the front and the back – eliminating the need for the artist to make a preliminary, reversed design for carving. Thus, the artist’s ideas and emotions are conveyed directly to the woodblock without an intermediary step, affording her the spontaneity that attracts the viewer’s attention. She currently teaches at the China Academy of Fine Arts in Hangzhou.”

Sun Xun’s “Time Spy” 2016 3D Animation | Courtesy Photo / USC Pacific Asia Museum

Crisis and Hope Since the 1990s

The 1990s saw China’s rapid transformation into a hyper-consumer society. As works of art entered the market as commodities, prints failed to gain recognition as valuable cultural products. To survive, printmakers had to switch to other media, teach, or hold positions at state-sponsored cultural organizations, whose programs continued instructing conservative subjects and styles. In response to the new conditions, a few artists have moved beyond technical concerns to search for ways to advance the medium and participate in global conversations. Their practices shine a new light on printmaking.

It’s unfortunate that despite its fascinating ancestry and storied past, printmaking in China did not continue to flourish. This exhibition at USC Pacific Asia Museum may yet demonstrate that prints – which have since been relegated to being disposable merchandise – and printmaking can be rejuvenated through a fresh audience. At th

‘On This Side of the World’ Musical Offers Insight and Entertainment

Originally published on 23 May 2023 on Hey SoCal

On This Side of the World,” an East West Players presentation, held its opening day at David Henry Hwang Theater on May 14. It is a joint creation of Paulo K. Tiról, who wrote the music and lyrics, and Noam Shapiro, who directed it. Featuring an ensemble of the most accomplished Filipino actors and performers in Southern California, this world premiere marks the first time a musical about Filipino immigrants written by one himself has been staged.

With a one-way ticket to the United States and a suitcase full of stories, a woman leaves her native Philippines and flies 8,491 miles across the Pacific Ocean to build a new life in New York. Her 17-hour journey, which begins when she boards a Philippine Airlines flight in Manila, is the subject of “On This Side of the World.”  

The cast performs ‘Ay! Amerika’ | Photo by Jenny Graham / East West Players

In this musical, a woman replays each story collected from immigrants who came before her – tales of overseas workers, young lovers, and gossipy church ladies; snapshots of undocumented immigrants, millennial princesses, and first-generation Americans. Running approximately two-and-a-half hours that includes a 15-minute intermission, it offers its audience insight about Filipinos as it provides great entertainment.

While I am a Filipino immigrant, I’ve been in the United States for 41 years and four decades of those years as a Pasadena resident. In all that time, I haven’t visited my native country and I feel more Pasadenan than Manileña. But the show brought back a flood of memories of my years growing up in a Manila suburb.     

Michael C. Palma as Mr. Legarda performs ‘Proud’ with the cast | Photo by Jenny Graham / East West Players

One of the songs – ‘Lantern in the Window’ – sung by Cassie Simone as Kayla, is about the lantern that’s unmistakably Filipino. We call it ‘parol’ and it hangs in every window at Christmas. As poor a country as the Philippines is, Filipinos live large at Christmastime and spend a lot of money buying presents. We also usher in the holidays way earlier than most. In the U. S., Christmas season starts the day after Thanksgiving; in the Philippines, all the malls have decorations up and Christmas songs are played in September!

Of all the Filipino traditions, it’s the Christmas midnight mass I miss the most. And I’m embarrassed to say that it isn’t because of the service, but the food. As children, my two sisters and I attended ‘simbang gabi’ during Christmas week because there would be food vendors selling an assortment of rice-based sweets we call ‘kakanin.’ The aroma emanating from the food stalls surrounding the church patio was more than a small distraction – we could think of nothing else but hurrying out as soon as the priest utters ‘Go in peace’ to have some ‘bibingka,’ ‘puto,’ ‘kutchinta,’ or ‘palitaw.’ Even now, I could practically smell and savor the scrumptious food! The festive spread that my mom would have laid out on the dining table after we got back from the Christmas eve mass, or ‘misa de gallo,’ is also something that’s not easily recreated in California. 

Cassie Simone as Dee-Dee (center) performs ‘Yaya’ with Zandi de Jesus (left) and Andrea Somera (right) | Photo by Jenny Graham / East West Players

The stories Tiról tells through the songs are faithful to all Filipino immigrants’ experiences and I will mention a few that stand out for me. Michael Palma’s ‘Cool Tito’ works tirelessly just so he can send money and ‘balikbayan’ boxes full of toys and the latest electronic gadgets and athletic shoes to nieces and nephews back home. He maxes out credit cards at Christmas to buy every item on the list. Never mind that he has to spend the next three months working double shift to pay off his debt and cover the finance charge it incurred.

‘Yaya’ reminds me of the shock many Filipinos feel when they first arrive in the United States and find out they have to do all the housework themselves. Cassie Simone’s portrayal as Dee-Dee, the brat who’s wailing for her ‘yaya,’ is quite hilarious.

The song ‘Ay! Amerika’ is as side-splittingly funny as it is a spot-on depiction of just how judgmental Filipinos can be. Maritess and Marivic, as portrayed by Zandi de Jesus and Cassie Simone, are models for the quintessential holier-than-thou women who gossip with glee about the ill-fated choices and misfortunes of people they knew from back home. They sing that such scandalous events can only happen in America. It’s a comical scene – the ensemble intones ‘wa-wa-wa-wa’ in prayer, and the audience when I watched the show chanted along. 

Steven-Adam Agdeppa as Miggy performs ‘Rice Queens’ | Photo by Jenny Graham / East West Players

But the performance that brought the house down was Steven-Adam Agdeppa’s, ‘Rice Queens.’ The audience absolutely loved him as Miggy in drag and they demonstrated it clearly. They cheered and whistled. Someone even threw a dollar bill on the stage.                            

‘My Mother is an Immigrant,’ sung by Andrea Somera as Brianna, is a song that will reduce all mothers to tears. They will deeply connect with it. At the start of the song, Brianna bemoans that she doesn’t fit in at school because her mother is an immigrant; that her mother expects her to get excellent grades and makes her go to art classes and take piano lessons. And her mother thinks she’s extraordinary.

By the end of the song, Brianna is a fully grown adult and says she turned out to be ordinary. And, contrary to how she felt about her mom in the beginning, Brianna looks back with appreciation for her mother. She hopes to raise her future child with as much love as her mother has for her, that she now recognizes.

Coincidentally, my daughter’s name is also Brianna. And, while I wasn’t a tiger mom – a label that a lot of the Asian parents I know wear as a badge of honor – I admit my academic expectations when she was in school were ridiculous. I also thought she was extraordinary and now that she’s in her 20s I still think she’s a remarkable human being.

All the songs in “On This Side of the World” are noteworthy but ‘My Mother is an Immigrant’ speaks to me the most.

Andrea Somera as Brianna performs ‘My Mother is an Immigrant’ | Photo by Jenny Graham /East West Players

I interviewed Tiról and Shapiro when they were just two weeks into rehearsal and they said work in a musical never ends, that it’s ongoing. In the story I wrote, the plane was bound for Los Angeles – a 14-hour flight and 8,000 miles from the Philippines. I don’t know if they decided on that final destination because the New York skyline, which they use as backdrop, is more impressive. Or maybe they thought that since the plane originated from Ninoy Aquino International Airport it’s only fitting that the destination in America be John F. Kennedy International instead of LAX. After all, the Philippine airport is named after a slain hero and icon so only a disembarkation site bearing the moniker of an assassinated American president will do.

But whatever and however they may have deviated from their initial idea, this iteration of “On This Side of the World” is a beautifully presented, well-thought-out production. The show reflects all that is good and admirable about Filipinos and Filipino immigrants, as well as the bad and disgraceful about us. The performers are superb actors and singers who can wow any audience – and when I watched it, the majority of those in attendance were non-Filipinos. But they were fully captivated and engaged throughout and indicated their approval with a rousing applause and an enthusiastic standing ovation at the end of the show.  

Tiról deserves acknowledgment and praise for blazing the trail for aspiring Filipino musical theatre writers and creators. To Shapiro we owe a debt of gratitude for taking a leap of faith when he helped Tiról get this dream project realized.   

The success of “On This Side of the World” can only advance the talents of Filipino performers who have, until now, mostly played insignificant roles in Hollywood films and Broadway shows. It can only give Tiról a foothold in the performing arts and make it easier for other Filipino playwrights to get their work staged. It can only pave the way for a more equitable future for all Asians in America.     

‘On This Side of the World’ Musical Tells Filipino Immigrant Stories

Originally published on 26 April 2023 on Hey SoCal

With a one-way ticket to the United States and a suitcase full of stories, a woman leaves her native Philippines and flies 8,000 miles across the Pacific Ocean to build a new life. Her 14-hour flight journey is the subject of “On This Side of the World” premiering at the David Henry Hwang Theater on May 11 and running through June 4, 2023. Presented by East West Players, it is the joint creation of Paulo K. Tiról, who wrote the music and lyrics, and Noam Shapiro, who directs. It features an ensemble of the most accomplished Filipino actors and performers in Southern California.

Interviewed by phone, Tiról and Shapiro graciously talk about how a simple grad school course exercise became a musical embarking on its world premiere, answer questions about their collaboration, and disclose future projects.                

“I was at NYU doing my Masters in Musical Theatre Writing in 2013 and for one class, the assignment was to choose a community which would inspire songs that I would write over two years,” Tiról begins. “I chose Filipino immigrants because I was one myself. At the same time, I didn’t know any other Filipino immigrant composers writing about the Filipino immigrant experience. And I have lots of immigrant friends whose stories I could ‘steal’ to turn into songs.”

The cast of ‘On This Side of the World’ | East West Players

In this musical, a woman replays each story collected from immigrants who came before her — tales of overseas workers, young lovers, and gossipy church ladies; snapshots of undocumented immigrants, millennial princesses and first-generation Americans — which was inspired by Tiról’s own experience. (read my review here)

“After a 12-year corporate career in Manila, I decided to immigrate to the U.S. in 2011. It was scary; my life was going to change and I didn’t know what to expect. So I contacted all my immigrant friends in the U.S. and I asked them what their stories were like. I collected and wrote their stories and, on my own one-way ticket flight from Manila to Boston, which was my first city here, I replayed them. And that was the structure for the musical,” explains Tiról.

That structure, however, didn’t get assembled until Shapiro collaborated with him. In fact, this show might never have been mounted if it were not for a chance meeting.

“There was a lot of discouragement from 2013, when I first started writing the songs, to 2018,”  reveals Tiról. “I had been pitching and trying to get the attention of New York Asian American theatre community, Filipino American artists, hoping to find collaborators and had no luck. It was when I met Noam in 2018 that things started to happen.”

Shapiro recalls how he met Tiról and what caught his attention, “At a presentation of new musical theatre at the Public Theater in New York City in 2018, Paulo showcased one of his songs from ‘On This Side of the World’ called ‘Light of the Home.’ It’s about three overseas workers in home healthcare services and how they have learned in Filipino culture to be a light of the home, to care for their loved ones who are family. But they made the difficult decision to come to the U.S. so they can send money to care for their families back home. The music, lyrics, and characters were unlike anything I’d ever heard. I’m not Filipino, but my mom is an immigrant so that resonated with me. I wrote in my program next to Paulo’s name ‘I got chills.’”

“He literally just sent me an email saying ‘I’d like to meet you, talk, and learn more,’ Tiról adds. “We exchanged a few emails and then had a three-hour conversation, after which he said, ‘I’d like to help you finish this show and get it produced.’ I was floored! At the time he made that pronouncement, the show was only half-written; it was really a gamble on his part.”

Noam Shapiro (left) and Paul K. Tiról (right) in residence at the Catwalk Art Institute in Catskill, New York | East West Players

And an artistic partnership was launched. “The show used to have a libretto, or spoken dialog, but we changed that,” states Shapiro. “I worked with Paulo in selecting the order of the 29 songs he wrote so that they tell a cohesive story. Together we came up with the story arc following this one woman who is coming to the U.S. to start a new job as a teacher in order to support her family. She meets five other Filipino immigrants on the plane who inspire her to reflect on all the different stories she collected prior to leaving the Philippines about other immigrants before her. She has a notebook with her where she wrote these stories and each time she meets someone, she turns to the page in her notebook that has the corresponding story and that story comes to life. And over the course of the 14-hour flight, her journey from anxiety and fear to that of optimism and hope unfolds.”

Getting a musical from development to production takes years — the process is rife with obstacles to surmount. “They cost anywhere between $6 million and $11 million to produce and you never know whether they’re going to be successful,” explains Tiról. “So many musicals on Broadway close prematurely, which is why these days most of them are restaging or tried-and-tested classics. Or the new ones are adaptations of Hollywood blockbusters, bestselling novels, or cartoons. I’m really grateful to Noam because he took a chance on this musical. And over the years we’ve been fortunate to have had organizations who’d taken a risk on it. East West Players chose to program this musical in this season. It’s challenging finding supporters and people who will back you and we’re very lucky with what we’ve found.”

“We were able to present the show in 2019 for the first time and it was called ‘A Workshop Production,” Shapiro expounds. “That means we had some costumes, sets, and lights, but not a whole production. We did the show in a tiny 65-seat upstairs theatre in downtown New York City when it was about two-thirds complete and we’ve added several songs since. A big springboard for this show after the workshop production came through the National Alliance for Musical Theatre (NAMT) which has an annual festival of new musical theatre works. In 2020, we were selected out of 330 applications for this festival and we presented three songs from ‘On This Side of the World’ in a virtual format. From that opportunity, several different theaters on the West Coast — including East West Players — heard about the show, took an interest, and supported us over the last three years to bring the show to production.” 

Paulo K. Tiról accompanies Diane Phelan at the annual fundraiser of the Rhinebeck Writers Retreat at Sardi’s in New York City. Dianne starred as Cinderella in ‘Into the Woods’ on Broadway, and is currently on the show’s national tour which will end in L.A. in July 2023 | East West Players

“One other challenge is that many people like a single story, follow one character as they go from A to B to C to D. And this musical is a story about stories – it’s about how stories give us strength to move forward courageously in our lives and become our fullest selves. And it took some convincing to get theaters to buy into that idea. So we’re really grateful for not only East West Players but also the NAMT. We participated in the Rhinebeck Writer’s Retreat, the Catwalk Art Institute’s summer residency, and a developmental reading at Musical Theatre West. Prior to NAMT, the show was developed by Three Hares Theater, Access Theater, and Prospect Theater Company. All these people believed in us and the show. There’s an expression that ‘it takes a village’ and that’s really true for bringing a new musical from page to stage.”

There’s a misconception that all Filipino men are with the U.S. Navy and all the women are nurses, or maids, or caregivers. And while this musical features some Filipinos as healthcare workers, it has more characters than that. “We wanted to change the belief that Filipinos are one-dimensional navy enlistees or health care workers. Apart from dispelling that notion, we also wanted to give actors more opportunity to portray characters that are three-dimensional, who are fleshed-out, interesting, and complicated,” declares Tiról.

Shapiro illustrates, “One of my favorite songs in this show is called ‘Leading Man’ and it’s about a Filipino actor who was very successful back in Manila who came to the U.S. to break into show business in Hollywood or on Broadway. But he keeps getting offered either ‘extra’ roles or non-speaking parts, or traditional Asian American characters in ‘Miss Saigon’ and ‘The King and I.’ All he wants to do is play a leading character, to play someone in a prestige drama or a lead romantic character in a comedy. This musical provides an answer to that character’s wish by giving six actors the opportunity to play comedic and dramatic roles, to sing so many different styles, to demonstrate  all that they can do and, hopefully, expand the theatre canon of the roles available to AAPI actors.”

“The cast we’ve assembled are phenomenally talented, generous, and hard-working,” Tiról enthuses. “It’s not an easy show. There’s a lot of music — and it’s not easy music — but they’re pouring so much work and love into it.”

A staged reading of ‘On This Side of the World’ presented by East West Players in July 2022 | East West Players

One of the actors is Mike Palma, who is also associate artistic of Cold Tofu Improv. He describes his early childhood in L.A. “I was born and raised in Silver Lake and when I was growing up, we had a back house that we rented out. An immigrant family who had just arrived from the Philippines moved in it and lived there for about nine years. They had little kids who didn’t speak a lick of English. I was an only child who was being brought up in Tagalog by my grandparents and my mom, so I was able to use what I knew and got to expand my Tagalog vocabulary to communicate with them.”

Filipinos are a music-loving people, as Palma’s family and upbringing prove. He reminisces, “My mom was always singing in the house while she did house chores and I mimicked that. Then my uncle arrived from the Philippines and lived with us for a couple of years. He was constantly singing and playing guitar, and he would invite me to sing with him. Then, lo and behold, he joined a Filipino choir in L.A.”

Palma continues, “When I was about seven or eight years old, a really famous theatre group from the Philippines came to LA. to stage the zarzuela called ‘Walang Sugat,’ which was apparently a really big deal in Filipino theatre. It was all in Tagalog and had a cast of the most famous Filipino actors. The director was Bernardo Bernardo and the lead actress was Fides Cuyugan.

“This theatre company hired the choir, which my uncle was a part of, and I would sing the songs with him. Then I got hired when they were looking for a little boy to play one of the pivotal characters. In the role, I was accidentally shot and was rescued by the hero, the show’s lead actor. There was a pivotal song “Bayan Ko’ — I didn’t know then the levity of this song — and I sang that every single night. We toured that show all over California, at Lincoln Center in New York, and in Canada. That was the last bit of acting I did.”

It was in the 1990s when Palma consciously decided he wanted to be an actor and he explains why, “I rarely saw an Asian face on TV or in film and I would say to myself, ‘Man, I could do that!’ But I never really did anything about it. Then in 1998, I was cast in another play and my career as a ‘professional actor’ ramped up from there. I took acting classes — one of my mentors and close friend was Domingo (Dom) Magwili — who held lessons at a Japanese community center right off the 101 freeway on Vermont. And then in 2002, East West Players Theatre Group had a two-to-three-week summer conservatory. Despite the enormous cost for me back then, I enrolled. It offered several courses — dance, voice, acting, improv, tai chi. The dance instructor was Kay Cole, who originated one of the roles in Chorus Line on Broadway.”

Noam Shapiro and Paulo K Tiról at the first rehearsal for the world premiere of ‘On This Side of the World’ at East West Players in L.A. on April 23, 2023 | Photo by Gavin Pak / East West Players

In “On This Side of the World,” Palma plays the baritone roles — Abe, Tito, Miko, and Mr. Legarda — and the ensemble. He says, “Paulo’s music is so challengingly beautiful that I’m listening to it all the time, more so than the other musicals I’ve been in. The words are so deep and layered, the melodies are beautiful. This is my first time working with Paulo and it’s been a great experience.”

Palma says further, “In the span of my career, I’ve worked with down-to-earth, supportive, loving people. Paulo and Noam are so giving. Their rehearsals are very free — there’s a lot of creativity and improv. Noam is one of those directors who’ll let you find your character and your process versus someone who gives it to you. He might have an idea but he’ll let you discover it and maybe what you find expounds upon that and you both come up with something better than the original thought.”

“This musical is going to hit upon everything you grew up with — the stories that you’ve seen as a child or a young adult,” Palma concludes. “Even on day one when we heard the songs, we said ‘Oh yeah, we did that!’ or ‘We saw that.’ There were mentions of the ‘balikbayan’ boxes, chismis, people talking in church, and, of course, there’s food. If you’re Filipino, it’s going to touch all of your senses, and all the memories and experiences you have as a Filipino or as a Filipino American. But this immigrant story relates to all ethnicities and any culture so you don’t have to be Filipino. You’re going to experience all the trials and tribulations of someone who goes into another country. It’s presented in a way you’ll understand and relate to, and you’ll love it! Besides all that, the music is great!”

That sentiment is echoed by Shapiro when he talks about their hopes for this show. “Our dream is that more and more people see ‘On This Side of the World’ and are touched by these characters’ stories. Whether that is a tour, or other new and unique productions mounted in other cities, we’d be excited by those opportunities. One of our other dreams is to travel up and down several states on the West Coast with large Filipino communities, and then eventually be able to bring the show back to New York and the East Coast.”

Paulo K. Tiról and Noam Shapiro work on their musical adaptation of Jose Antonio Vargas’s memoir ‘Dear America’ while in residence at the Catwalk Art Institute in Upstate New York in May 2022 | East West Players

Tiról and Shapiro work so well together that future collaborations are sure to follow. And Tiról confirms, “We’ve already started our second project. Right around the time when Noam was wondering ‘what are we going to work on next?’ we met Filipino American journalist and activist Jose Antonio Vargas.”

“Jose expressed interest in becoming a supporter after someone shared with him the songs on ‘On This Side of the World,’” Shapiro relates. “To prepare for our meeting with him, we read the memoir ‘Dear America’ and we both turned to each other and said ‘This would make an amazing musical.’ So at the end of our conversation with him, we asked if we could adapt his memoir to a musical and he agreed!”

“It’s still in the early stages and it isn’t going to be complete for a while because we’ve been focusing on ‘On This Side of the World.’ But we got his permission in late 2021 and we have a draft of a handful of scenes and songs. It takes a long time to develop a musical but over the next two or three years, we’ll see this new musical come to light,” assures Tiról.

Audiences can likewise be assured that the music and story will reflect how all Filipinos and Filipino immigrants get through hardships. They are a people seemingly unaffected by Asian pessimism. In the face of adversity and their daily struggles, Filipinos smile and sing their troubles away. No matter how bleak their circumstances, they look forward to tomorrow — confident that the new day will bring renewed hope and ever more possibilities.

‘Asian American Experiences in California’ Symposium at The Huntington Invites Introspection

Originally published on 10 April 2023 on Hey SoCal

The third panel speakers and The Huntington’s Yinshi Lerman-Tan (far right) | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

For Asian Americans, who have been largely ignored by society, the events of the past three years that threw them headlong into the spotlight were too overwhelming to contemplate. Surely invisibility would have been preferable to being widely hated and reviled. While racial slurs and violence directed against Asians and Asian Americans didn’t happen only recently, the anti-Asian rhetoric and crimes that erupted during the pandemic were so alarming that they became the catalyst for movements, including Stop AAPI Hate.

The Huntington Library, Art Museum, and Botanical Gardens in San Marino is at the very center of the Asian American community in the San Gabriel Valley. Its collections have grown and its programming has expanded to reflect the demographic change and the needs of the community it serves. On Saturday, March 4, 2023, it held a day-long symposium titled “Asian American Experiences in California: Past, Present and Future.”

Alice Tsay, Director of Special Projects and Institutional Planning, declared that this series of lectures was two years in the making. Indeed in the two years since The Huntington embarked on this series until it actually transpired, stories related to Asians have dominated headlines.

Simon Li | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

In his introduction and opening remarks, Simon K. C. Li, Huntington trustee, talked about the Monterey Park massacre on the eve of the Lunar New Year, and said, “Reaction among Asians who have witnessed racism is disbelief that we are capable of such violence. Another mass shooting perpetrated by the same man in Alhambra reinforced the thought. Still, it’s a reality — Asians in America live with a sense of vulnerability.”

Li then brought up two issues. The first involves the name Asian American — does it do a disservice in obscuring the wide diversity of the many Asians to reduce the knowledge and complexity that will otherwise lead to great understanding? He said in 1992 the terms Chinese American and Japanese American were much more commonly used. But it didn’t save Vincent Chin, the Chinese American beaten to death in Detroit by two bat-wielding white auto workers angry about the popularity of Japanese cars.  

The other issue is about the role of representation in helping minority communities. Li said it’s a common complaint that we don’t see enough faces like ours in movies, on TV, or in government and politics in the news. But he contended that he’s seen plenty of representation for both Asian Americans and non-American Asians making their name in U.S. politics, in movies, and on television. And he wondered, “Do such talents, such contributions, such celebrity really redound to the ‘normalization’ of Asian communities in America?”

At the end of his remarks, Li asked the panelists to answer two questions and suggest new answers going forward for Asian Americans: “What does it mean to be American? Who has the right to wear that title and to share fully in the promise it implies?” (read Brianna Chu’s response article here)

Gordon Chang | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

The first panel — Historical Roots (pre-1965) — focused on the origins of Asian experience, and anti-Asian racism, in California, with presenters drawing extensively on The Huntington’s Pacific Rim collections.

Gordon Chang, whose talk ‘Beyond Promontory: Chinese Railroad Workers and the Rise of California,’ continues the story of the Chinaman as railroad builders and what happened to them after they finished the transcontinental railways. He touched on the construction of the Tehachapi Loop in 1874.    

An interesting revelation was when Chang debunked the myth that the railroad workers were docile. “In March 1875, the entire workforce tunneling in the Tehachapis went on strike for higher wages just as they did in 1867. They took advantage of the monopoly they had on railroad labor and demanded for improved working conditions.”

Naomi Hirahara | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

Naomi Hirahara’s presentation was “Torri Gate Welcoming Empire: Japanese Immigrant and Nisei Cultural Workers and Pasadena Landscape and Life.” She spoke about her lived experience as a Japanese American in Pasadena. Her father, Sam Hirahara, was a gardener. She said, “Many Japanese American men after World War II were gardeners. A lot of men who were released from the detention camps found it was easy to come over — all they had to do was push a lawn mower and they were in business.”

She also talked about George Turner Marsh, a businessman from Australia who had spent several years in Japan and learned the language. “He went to San Francisco and opened an Asian arts business in the late 1800s. He installed a Japanese house in the 1893 Chicago World Fair in the area that the Japanese government funded, which one of the architectural partners of the firm Greene & Greene saw. Frank Lloyd Wright also saw it as a little boy. This was the introduction to a Japanese aesthetic that perhaps made a lasting impact among American architects.”

Jean Chen Ho talked about the Los Angeles Chinatown Massacre of 1871, the culmination of anti-Chinese sentiment leading to racially motivated violence and for which a memorial is being built.

“According to stories, in the late afternoon of October 24, 1871 a gunfire broke out between two Chinese men from rival tongs on Calle de los Negros, now Los Angeles Street, feuding over a young woman,” Ho began. A white rancher was caught in the crossfire that caused his death. A vigilante mob then gathered to exact revenge for the slain Anglo man and went on to murder 17 Chinese men and one 15-year old boy. The mob also raided a number Chinese businesses of goods and cash, and destroyed property by fire. Newspaper accounts by L.A.’s elite often demonized ‘ruffian and disreputable class’ for the massacre. But what combined these two social sets on that night was white vigilantism that enabled the massacre. This incident put the blame back on the Chinese for the violence they suffered.”

An account of this massacre that night was written 50 years later in his memoir by Robert Maclay Widney who witnessed what happened and was later the presiding judge during the trial of the rioters.  But Ho questioned the credibility of his story where he painted himself a hero, “Where do we place someone like Robert Maclay Widney who had the power to narrate his own story and have its social and material integrity preserved? What about the distorted, destroyed, or otherwise absent narratives from the victims of the massacre as well as those who survived that night of violence? The work that I’m taking up now is to reckon with the speculative possibility that Asian American lives have been previously only seen visible at the very moment they were suddenly extinguished by violence. My next project — a  novel — now requires the intellectual and emotional capaciousness to imagine all that cannot be verified by the archive in order to tell a story about lives that exceed the archive in their sublime and impossible beauty.”                   

Marci Kwon | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

Marci Kwon’s presentation centered on the Asian American Art Initiative at Stanford University, an effort to collect and preserve histories and works of Asian American artists which reflect some of the subjects discussed by the other panelists. It’s a joint effort between the Canter Art Center and Stanford Library’s Special Collections which started in 2016. It came about because when she was trying to put together a syllabus for an Asian American Art history, she couldn’t find one. Thus her challenge was to collect 1,000 pieces of artwork by AAPI artists by 2026.

The second session – Shaping the Present – covered the period from 1965 to the present.

Wendy Cheng, called her talk “Assimilating into Difference: Multiethnic and Multiracial Histories of the San Gabriel Valley.” As Li did, she began her presentation with the Monterey Park mass shooting, “In the days after the shooting, Monterey Park was listed as an Asian American hub. It was a place of possibility for Asian immigrants to make lives and build community. Indeed in 1990, it became the first majority Asian city in the Continental United States; its population is 65% Asian today. But what this characterization can sometimes gloss over, is the incredible multi-ethnic and multi-racial richness of Monterey Park’s history and present — which came about through multiple generations of shared history of struggle and place-making.”

Cheng’s map of the San Gabriel Valley | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

“In the near 70 interviews I conducted for my book ‘The Changs Next Door to the Diazes’ between 2006 to 2012, I found that those who grew up in Monterey Park and the western San Gabriel Valley developed a distinct regional consciousness about race,” disclosed Cheng. “They usually understood the particulars of each other’s identity. This region’s distinction as an Asian American place is one of its legacies — a home for immigrants and for those who are historically excluded or vilified elsewhere by those who don’t look exactly like them.”

Jane Hong spoke about “Asian American Evangelicals and Southern California Histories” and how they became an important voting bloc for the Republican Party. She attributed this to a couple of developments: the first was the diversification in U.S. population that resulted from the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965. Japanese Americans made up the majority of Asian Americans for much of the 20th century; Chinese Americans became the most populous by the 1980s; Filipino Americans became the second largest Asian American group in 1990; and, very recently, Indian Americans surpassed the Filipino Americans as the second largest Asian American population.

Hong’s Asian American Evangelicals pie chart | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

The second development was the marriage between white Evangelicals and the Republican Party. This can be traced to the Moral Majority, a political lobbying group formed in 1979 between Jerry Falwell Senior, the founder and president of Liberty University, and Ronald Reagan. They joined forces around a shared set of issues — opposing abortion, traditional family and marriage defined as between a man and woman, etc. And their influence grew within the Republican Party in the 1980s.

“Late 1960s and 1970s phenomenon Jesus (Free) Movement were largely young, white Americans,” Hong explained. “At the same time, Movement Activist was inspired by Asian American movement whose major tenet is ‘there’s strength in solidarity.’ So instead of calling themselves Japanese, Chinese, Filipino, it was a political act to call yourself Asian American to denote your belief, community, and shared interest. So this is what it means to be Asian American and Christian — integrating racial and individual identity.”    

Oliver Wang’s topic was “The Nisei Week Cruise: Japanese American Car Culture in the 1970s and 80s.”

“So much of our car history has been written by white men so the Nikkei community has been largely forgotten or overlooked,” stated Wang. “A major goal of the exhibit is to write the Nikkei Community back into the stories and histories about how cars have transformed the cultural, economic, and social landscape of the Southland.”

Fred Jiro Fujioka featured prominently in Little Tokyo | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

Nisei Week began in Little Tokyo in 1934 as a way to encourage cultural pride in community economic development by an emergent second generation of Japanese Americans — the Nisei — who wanted to stake out a space for themselves within a community that up to that point had been largely dominated by their Nikkei parents and their generation,” continued Wang. “It quickly grew to become an annual celebration of the Japanese American community and further anchored Little Tokyo as the center of the Nikkei community in Southern California.”

Wang reported that Nisei Week cruise began to form in the early 1970s. “By the 1980s Nisei Week Cruise became the ‘king of cruises’ and continued to grow in popularity for the next 15 years until the summer of 1988 when it was shut down. But it left a lasting impression — for the people who grew up at that time, cruise was fundamentally a social experience that connected young people with one another. To attend the cruise was to participate in a cultural experience that helped define what it meant to be young and Japanese American for an entire generation.”

Linda Trinh Vo talked about the Vietnamese population in Orange County. She stated, “I titled my talk ‘Crafting Community’ because ‘crafting’ is purposeful – it needed a skill not just ad hoc. There’s an assumption that America rescued the Vietnamese refugees and other Southeast Asians. There’s a whole other discussion we can have about America and their intervention in the war in Vietnam that led to our displacement and then led to our migration or forced migration as asylum seekers and refugees. But our argument is that we saved ourselves. We had social agency — we had to figure out a way to survive, to get out of Vietnam and get resettled in the U.S. At times, we’re looked at as passive victims rather than seen as social agents helping ourselves.

Vo’s slide of Little Saigon | Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

“Today, the Vietnamese population is the largest of Asians in Orange County and also the largest population outside of Vietnam,” declared Vo. “Pre-1975 the only ones here were war or military brides, international students, and military personnel training during the Vietnam War. When the Vietnam War ended, about 120 of them were settled in Camp Pendleton, one of four U.S. camps where refugees settled. But they needed some place to live permanently so they had to find sponsors. Individuals, charities, religious organizations helped to sponsor and settle them in the city of Westminster (and later expanded to Garden Grove) which is today’s Little Saigon.”

The third session – Future Provocations – envisaged the future of Asian Americans from the perspective of the panelists’ field of expertise.

Manjusha P. Kulkarni‘s presentation was “Resistance and Resilience: Asian Americans’ Response to Hate.” She disclosed that since the beginning of the pandemic, Stop AAPI Hate received over 11,467 reports of discrimination. She said, “Policies drive much of the hate — mass deportation of Southeast Asians, programs like the China initiative, the 911 surveillance and profiling of South Asians. What that has led to is the blame game — one in five reported incidents include this kind of scapegoating, like public health which we saw during the bubonic plague where Chinese Americans were blamed for the disease. National security was blamed for the Japanese incarceration and 911 profiling. And economic insecurity and anxiety was the cause of the horrible beating of Vincent Chin.”          

AAPI protest gatherings | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

“As populations are growing, we begin to see ourselves as racialized,” continued Kulkarni. “Civil Rights leader and scholar Lani Guinier wrote about the social ladder when whiteness is at the top and blackness at the bottom. So where does that put Asian Americans in terms of the outsider framing, idea of perpetual foreigner.’ So where are you really from?’ are the questions we get even when we’re third, fourth, and fifth generation. And that leads to questions of loyalty — are we actually Americans?”

Kulkarni then discussed civic engagement, “Since 2020, we are more enthusiastic about voting than we ever had; we see that we play a role in the margin of victory. So it’s absolutely critical that we vote; and engage civically — write to your congressperson, go to meetings at city hall, and run for office. We need more representation across our land if we are to have a powerful voice. I want to leave you with this quote from Grace Lee Boggs, ‘You cannot change any society unless you take responsibility for it, unless you see yourself as belonging to it and responsible for changing it.’”

Jimenez’s installation at Coachella | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

Artist Jimenez Lai showed some photos of the work he’s done over the years. He represented Taiwan at the Venice Biennalle; his works have been displayed at museums and public events, including Coachella. One of his installations in front of City Hall, at Grand Park, is a collaboration with a musician and they conceived a structure like an oversized instrument. They embedded an amplifier so people could whisper their sorrows into it which then get distorted into nonsense — a confession booth of sorts.

Karin Wang spoke about “Asian Americans: Racialization & Privilege.” She began with a slide on Anti-Asian Hate which mirrored Kulkarni’s visual on the number of hate incidents. “What’s interesting is that at the same time that we were being racialized and targeted for violence and hate, Asian Americans are also occupying important spaces of privilege in two professions — Law and Medicine,” she declared. “We need to recognize where we have power and privilege. Lawyers are among the most powerful members of our society — not just lawyer lawyers, but judges, elected officials, people running government agencies.”

AAPI’s reports of discrimination against Asian Americans | Photo by Brianna Chu / Hey SoCal

Wang added, “There are a lot of stereotypes about Asians, one of them being that they are mostly in Medicine. And it is another sector that’s economically and socially advantaged in our society. There are improvements in the number of people of color in medicine on the national level but the majority of doctors are white; the next largest group is Asian and Pacific Islanders; Latinos and blacks are two populations that are underrepresented. It is becoming more racially diverse over time, although it is actually Asian Americans who are taking up a lot of that space.”

“Asian Americans are obviously not white and have never been viewed as white. Yet, we do have some privilege here as a community. So what is the provocation for the future as we move forward as Asian Americans? How are we going to think of ourselves in terms of where we fit in the American racial landscape? What are we going to do to use our positions of privilege in these places where we have it, and advance racial justice and equity not just for Asian Americans but for other communities of color as well,” Wang asked in conclusion.

The last speaker was Jeff Chang, who started his presentation by saying, “I was provoked by what Simon Li asked us to examine. The first: what is the desirability of being called Asian American especially given the anti-Asian violence we’re living through?  And, second, the role of representation. We know that there is representation, but we also recognize that we are nowhere near what the culture industry calls for, which is to create narrative plenitude – the diversity of stories out there.”

“Can we create a narrative of Asian American that can take us to the next 50 years? Chang asked. “Narrative plenitude doesn’t just seem like a call to the white-dominated culture industries and social institutions. But it seems also for us to make better sense of the full diversity of our stories. But at the same time, violence is bringing us all back together. But it’s not that the violence makes us all Chinese, the violence makes us all Asian American. So when we say ‘Stop Asian hate, stop anti-Asian violence!’ we can call this a negative narrative. We’re saying ‘Stop, no more of this!’ But this narrative also has its limits. There’s a danger that we actually lose people to the fears. Is there a positive narrative of Asian American that can bring us together?”

Chang ended his presentation by yet posing these questions: “How do we form this new narrative that’s not just saying ‘No,’ but what can we all say ‘Yes’ to? How do we recognize the harms being perpetrated against us and not re-harm others because of that? But how does that help us think about what we might move to that can lift us all up together?”

Photo by May S. Ruiz / Hey SoCal

This symposium resonated deeply with me. As an Asian American, I related with the experiences some of the panelists described. I’ve lived here for 41 years and, every once in a while, I’m still asked where I’m from. I usually respond “I’m from Pasadena but originally from the Philippines.” Sometimes, though, I turn what might otherwise be an awkward exchange into a subtle teachable moment about the Philippines and Filipinos, and our historical ties to the United States.    

As to Simon Li’s parting questions, there are as many answers as there are perspectives. And here’s mine: those of us who aren’t Americans by birthright but who legally immigrated to this country to build better futures also have the right to be called Americans. Most of us rose above our circumstances not in spite of being ‘foreigners’ but because of it. Most of us were born and raised in places of poverty and hardship and we were taught that education and industry were the means to success.

Because we didn’t come from places of wealth and abundance, we didn’t take for granted the opportunities that were available to us, as most immigrant accounts attest to. The possibilities became seemingly limitless and within reach because we were willing to work hard for them. Failure wasn’t an option — we wanted to ensure that our children didn’t go through the struggles we had to endure.  

But being American comes with responsibility. We have to give back to the country we now call home by engaging with our community and actively seeking out how we can contribute to society. In areas where we have influence, we have to advocate for all people of color and use our voices to speak for those who can’t. At the very least, sharing our stories might help others understand that while we don’t look like them, we have similar hopes and dreams, and are striving for the same happy outcomes.