On Friday, March 1, 2024, JANM hosted the opening celebration of Giant Robot Biennale 5with exhibition curator and Giant Robot founder Eric Nakamura; artists Sean Chao, Felicia Chiao, Luke Chueh, Giorgiko, James Jean, Taylor Lee, Mike Shinoda, Rain Szeto, and Yoskay Yamamoto; and music with Dan the Automator.
The new exhibition welcomed nearly 1,300 visitors in a few hours, with a line that wound through JANM’s core exhibition, Common Ground: The Heart of Community. Visitors enjoyed engaging with the art, listening to music, and chowing down on food from Kogi BBQ and MANEATINGPLANT food trucks.
Since 2007, the Museum has partnered with Nakamura to produce the Giant Robot Biennale, a recurring art exhibition that highlights diverse work and celebrates the ethos of Giant Robot—a staple of Asian American alternative pop culture and an influential brand encompassing pop art, skateboard, comic book, graphic arts, and vinyl toy culture.
“These exhibitions champion the spirit of collaboration and welcome you into a unique space with a DIY attitude. They create a vibrant culture for future generations to see themselves and their interests on the national stage. And they continue to fuse the past with the present to create a trailblazing community for you,” said Ann Burroughs, JANM President and CEO.
Nakamura and the artists also contributed to the Giant Robot Biennale 5 audio tour, now available on JANM’s digital guide. Hear directly from the artists anytime, anywhere, and come down to JANM to check out the exhibition. It’s on view through September 1, 2024, and it’s an experience you don’t want to miss!
JANM Trustee and attorney Gordon Yamate gives an overview of JANM’s new exhibition and virtual reality experience, Glenn Kaino: Aki’s Market. Yamate initially connected the Museum with the artist, Glenn Akira Kaino. Kaino’s grandparents are Akira and Sachiye Shiraishi (Kaino is Akira’s grandson and namesake).
An art expert who understands the importance of integrating art into the Museum’s storytelling and the role that art plays in creating empathy and teaching valuable lessons, Yamate is involved in numerous charitable, civic, and cultural organizations and serves on boards for a number of cultural organizations such as the San Jose Institute of Contemporary Art.
“A Roadmap to Glenn Kaino: Aki’s Market” by Gordon Yamate
Now that I have been anointed as an “art expert” by our President and CEO, Ann Burroughs (I’m still pinching myself), I’d like to offer my comments on Glenn Kaino: Aki’s Market because I suspect many of our regular visitors to the JANM will be scratching their heads wondering if they missed something when they view the exhibition.
Let me start with some background about Glenn Kaino. He is a conceptual artist. That means his work isn’t necessarily pretty or conventional art on the wall. Glenn is concerned with ideas, concepts and memories—how we perceive things—but he goes a step further here. This isn’t a typical Glenn Kaino exhibition, if a typical one exists. This is an exhibition that is deeply personal to Glenn, much like the stories that we experience at JANM. So, a lot of the works have a tie to Glenn’s life, and we learn a lot more about him than in his other previous exhibitions.
Let’s start with the virtual reality portion of the exhibition first. Yes, the wait in line can be a bit tedious, and even Glenn jokes that he created a zine to give you something to do while you wait. Definitely read the zine. It’s your guide to what you will see and experience, and the context that Glenn provides is essential. There are skateboard decks, a set of three Akira portraits as you enter, and a huge ninja doll. Without the zine, none of this seems connected or makes sense. So, read the zine. It all makes sense.
There are two what I call “infinity” sculptures on the opposite side of the room. Like works from Glenn’s With Drawn Arms exhibition based on Tommy Smith’s raised fist salute at the 1968 Olympics, Glenn incorporates an element of illusion in creating these works. In With Drawn Arms he utilized a casting of Smith‘s raised arm to create an image of a suspended arm that replicates into the distance, like Yayoi Kusama’s mirrored infinity rooms that go on forever. Glenn’s use of this technique in “Taken Inventory” goes deeper. In “Taken Inventory (Keep Stock),” the unlabeled Spam cans provide a subtle reminder of the “American” cuisine served to Japanese Americans during their incarceration. Although the arrangement of the cans initially brought to my mind what I imagined an Amazon warehouse would look like, it also conjured up the arrangement of the barracks in the various WRA concentration camps that would extend into the horizon as far as the eye can see—a graphic visualization of the huge number of people that were affected by Executive Order 9066. Even the title “Taken Inventory” alludes to the deprivation and loss of rights, property, and opportunities and how “inventory” dehumanizes individuals when Japanese Americans were issued identification number tags that they wore from the point of departure to the temporary detention centers and ultimately the camps.
In “Taken Inventory (Endless Field),” Glenn laments his grandfather’s loss of attending Occidental College, where he would have gone on a football scholarship, if not for the intervention of Executive Order 9066. Glenn writes that his grandfather was one of the best high school football players in Los Angeles despite his size (weren’t all football players smaller in those days?). Upon closer inspection, Glenn uses what I think is a vintage set of Electric Football figurines propelled on the field by a vibrating table—a rather primitive game that preceded football video games. In this sculpture, the same football game replicates forever—a fitting metaphor for a game that never started nor ended for his grandfather.
We see other snippets of Glenn’s approach to creating art—the use of spontaneous combustion in the aptly titled “Spontaneous Combustion,” where exothermic reactions create the work, leaving an unexpected ghost of an American flag. He invites us into a memory of his grandparents’ grocery store that was created from his interviews with his initially reluctant mother, and stories he remembers being told about the store when he was growing up. Even though Glenn did not meet his grandfather Aki, who passed away before he was born, and never set foot in the store, Glenn saw the importance of the store to his family and the East LA community that it served. What the store lacked in product breadth, it offered in convenience. Where else could you find “Gordon’s” bread loaves of the now defunct LA bakery stocked above cans of flammable liquids (was that kerosene)? The graininess of the video (at least in the virtual reality version that I experienced) adds a nostalgic touch—you feel less a customer in the store but more a special guest in this market of curated goods for the neighborhood. Glenn’s work makes us appreciate what we often take for granted. The lilting voice of his daughter, Stella, responding to his grandmother’s parting farewell and wish to “come back soon” leaves the visitor with memories that will continue to be passed down through generations.
Now on View Glenn Kaino: Aki’s Marketis now on view through January 28, 2024. The Los Angeles Times calls this virtual reality exhibition “a captivating theater of dreams.” Experience it for yourself during your next visit to JANM!
For more information about the exhibition and VR experience availability, visit janm.org/glenn-kaino. An audio tour is available through the website and JANM’s guide in the free Bloomberg Connects app.
JANM is collaborating with the Museum of Modern Art Wakayama (MoMAW) on a three-year research project about Japanese immigrant artists. The partnership includes an annual symposium, educational curriculum, and this exhibition at MoMAW. JANM is lending more than twenty artworks from its permanent collection, including oil paintings, gelatin silver prints, charcoal and ink drawings, sumie paintings, and woodblock prints representing artists Tokio Ueyama, Chiura Obata, Hisako Hibi, Matsusaburo Hibi, Miné Okubo, Jack Yamasaki, Taizo Kato, Harry Shigeta, and the Shaku-do-sha artist collective.
Transbordering—Migration and Art Across Wakayama and the U.S.A.
September 30 – November 30, 2023
The Museum of Modern Art, Wakayama 1-chōme-4-14 Fukiage Wakayama, 640-8137, JAPAN
Tokio Ueyama, The Evacuee, 1942, oil on canvas (cropped) 28.5 x 34.5 in. Japanese American National Museum, Gift of Kayoko Tsukada, 92.20.3
Chiura Obata, Eagle Peak Trail, 1930, woodblock on paper, 17.93 x 13.18 in. Japanese American National Museum, Gift of Eugene and Yuri Kodani, 99.287.7
Matsusaburo “George” Hibi, Untitled, ca. 1942-45, oil on canvas, 53 x 45 in. Japanese American National Museum, Gift of Ibuki Hibi Lee, 99.63.17
Miné Okubo, Untitled (Mother Embracing a Child), ca. 1943, charcoal on paper, 22.31 x 16.31 in. Japanese American National Museum, Gift of Miné Okubo Estate, 2007.62.1
Chikamichi Yamasaki, Untitled (Building a Brick Structure at Heart Mountain), 1942, ink and pencil on paper, 28 x 36 in. Japanese American National Museum, Gift of Nobu Yamasaki, 97.102.1
Don’t Fence Me In: Coming of Age in America’s Concentration Camps. Photo by Paloma Dooley.
What was it like to grow up behind barbed wire? JANM’s exhibition, Don’t Fence Me In: Coming of Age in America’s Concentration Camps, explores the experiences of Japanese American youth confronting the injustice of being imprisoned in World War II concentration camps while embarking on the universal journey of adolescence. Preteens, teenagers, and young adults danced with one another, listened to jazz and big band music, and formed musical groups of their own that performed regularly in camp.
Swing dance, which developed alongside jazz music, was started by African American dancers at the Savoy Ballroom in Harlem, New York. Musicians such as Count Basie, Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald, Dizzy Gillespie, and Chick Webb all performed at the ballroom. The ballroom’s anti-discrimination policy created a unique environment for diversity and creativity. The Savoy Ballroom and swing dancing was also featured at the 1939 New York World’s Fair. From there, swing dance and music spread across the country throughout the 1930s, including in Los Angeles.
Swing dancing was so popular among youth that a group of young dancers interrupted Los Angeles City Hall council members to invite them to a swing dance contest at the Gilmore Stadium on September 11, 1938. The following year, the Palomar Ballroom hosted the Jitterbug Championships and the finalists (from twenty states and six countries) danced for cash prizes to live music from the Artie Shaw and Ken Baker Orchestras in front of thousands of people at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum as part of the International Jitterbug Championships on June 18, 1939.
The final dance at the Jerome concentration camp before it closed in 1944. Photo taken by Francis Leroy Stewart on June 14, 1944, National Archives and Records Administration.
One of the farewell dances at the Jerome concentration camp before it closed in 1944. Photo taken by Francis Leroy Stewart on June 14, 1944, National Archives and Records Administration.
Henry Ushijima, a sound engineer in Hollywood, plays dance records at a dance given by the Girl’s Recreation Committee in the Manzanar concentration camp. Photo taken by Francis Leroy Stewart on May 29, 1942, National Archives and Records Administration.
During World War II, young Nisei like George Yoshida who enjoyed big band music continued to do so when they were forcibly removed from their homes. According to his book, Reminiscing in Swingtime, incarcerees created big bands such as the Densoneers or D-Elevens, Down Beats, Jive Bombers, Jivesters, Music Makers, Pomonans, Poston Camp #2 Band, Rhythm Kings, Rhythmaires, Savoy Four, Stardusters, and Starlight Serenaders in the temporary detention centers and concentration camps.
Nisei like sisters Yuri Long and Sumiko Hughes were a part of social clubs that would also participate in swing dancing. Long and Hughes, who are both featured in the Don’t Fence Me In audio tour on Bloomberg Connects, talked about how much they enjoyed swing dancing as part of their social club, Just Us Girls (the JUGs), in the Manzanar concentration camp. The JUGs were made up of the youngest girls, followed by the Forget-Me-Nots and the Moderneers.
“They call us wild because at the dances, the JUGs were always very popular, and the guys would come and ask them to dance. And they jitterbug. They were on the dance floor all the time. And some of the other club girls were sort of off on the side. They didn’t get asked as much. And they didn’t jitterbug. And they used to jitterbug wild. They would throw them under their legs,” recalled Hughes.
Yuri Long
Sumi Hughes
Bob Wada
JANM’s digital guide on Bloomberg Connects
Bob Wada, who was also featured in the Don’t Fence Me In audio tour, recalled knowing where all of the dances were at the Poston incarceration camp because the blocks within camp kept a running log.
“A lot of the blocks had their own dances. So we had our own. They weren’t, like, out of control dances, they were good. People didn’t crash dances. Our block had a dance and they invited a few friends that would come. That’s about the only thing we did socially,” he said.
Some incarcerees even had their own musical equipment made in camp. Two Nisei, one of which may have been Sadaichi Tanioka, made a turntable for Henry Nomura so that he could play music for his own enjoyment and for others in the firebreaks and at block dances at the Manzanar concentration camp.
Henry Nomura’s turntable. Photo by Paloma Dooley.
Dance bids from Karen Nagao that were collected by her mother-in-law, Ruth (née Higa) Nagao. Photo by Paloma Dooley.
Handmade dance bids—paper booklets featuring an illustration of the event on the cover—were popular, complete with blank lines for dance partners to sign their name. Many of the dance bids in Don’t Fence Me In were donated by Karen Nagao. Her mother-in-law, Ruth (née Higa) Nagao, was incarcerated in the Pomona temporary detention center and the Heart Mountain concentration camp. While working as a crop picker and nurse’s aide at Heart Mountain, Nagao participated in many events including plays and dances. Her collection of dance bids commemorated block dances and special events like, a New Year’s Eve Dance, a Valentine’s Dance, and a Coronation Ball.
To celebrate big band music, JANM created a Don’t Fence Me In playlist of popular songs from the 1940s and hosted a two-part public program, From Barbed Wire to Boogie Woogie, on June 17, 2023.
From Barbed Wire to Boogie Woogie kicked off with a conversation between dance preservationist Rusty Frank and Rohwer concentration camp survivors, artists, and performers, June Aochi Berk and Takayo Tsubouchi Fischer. Berk and Fischer met at the Rohwer when they were ten years old and have been friends ever since. While incarcerated at Rohwer, they were too young to attend the dances but they were attuned to the fashion of the times and taught themselves how to dance.
Rusty Frank, June Berk, and Takayo Fischer talk about dancing in camp. Courtesy of the Japanese American National Museum.
“I used to love looking at the Sears Roebuck and Montgomery Ward catalogs,” said Fischer.
“I made my mother buy me white majorette boots, a skirt, and a top. And my brother had to have pachuco pants so he could be in style in camp,” recalled Berk. “We would stand around and watch the big kids dance and we’d go home and copy them. That’s how we learned to dance. My brother always wore his pachuco hat all the time and I would look to see who was dancing with him.”
From Barbed Wire to Boogie Woogie then transitioned to the All Camps Swing Dance with live music from the Fabulous Esquires Big Band and custom dance bids for guests. After Frank led a beginner swing dance lesson for all ages, the Fabulous Esquires played popular tunes from the 1940s like “Don’t Fence Me In,” “Moonlight Serenade,” and “Chattanooga Choo Choo” (which Berk sang in Japanese). Together, the conversation and dance offered all generations the opportunity to connect through music, movement, and immersive history.
Don’t Fence Me Inis now on view through October 1, 2023. Swing by JANM to see it for yourself this summer and shop the exhibition’s collection at the JANM Store!
The humble work truck or van may not seem as glamorous as a sports coupe or luxury sedan but as utility vehicles, they have served Japanese Americans in Los Angeles for over 100 years. Established by Fred J. Fujioka in the mid-1910s, the Japanese Auto Club of Southern California had over 850 members of Japanese descent listed in their member guide. Many members had registered their trucks, presumably used for delivering goods throughout the Southland.
Farmers, gardeners, shop owners, and other working class Nikkei couldn’t ply their trades without access to work vehicles. As prosaic as they looked, the ways in which owners adapted them to their needs made them as unique as any custom car. This was especially true for gardeners, once the economic lifeblood of the Southern California’s Japanese American community, for whom the pickup truck became an iconic sight for several generations.
As part of our forthcoming exhibition on Nikkei car culture in Southern California, we are looking for images of local Japanese Americans with their work trucks, vans, and cars. Many people may have posed in front of their family cars but we know there are also photos of people with their utility vehicles too. We want to make sure these—and the people behind them—are properly represented in our exhibition.
Right now, we prefer to look at digital scans (if possible). Please send them to cars@janm.org by July 31, 2023.
Photo: Buntaro Tabuchi from Amache with his gardening tools and truck, loading up for the day’s work in Los Angeles, June 25, 1945, Online Archive of California. Photo by Charles E. Mace.
These days, stopping by a gas station or taking your car to a service center may be seen as a necessary inconvenience but once upon a time, gas and service stations could be like informal neighborhood hubs: a place to stop and chat, even if only for the few minutes it took to top off your gas, check your oil, etc.
This was especially true in Southern California where countless Japanese Americans ran stations through the region. If you grew up here, chances are, you remember a few of your favorite stations. Some of you may even remember the names of the people who used to run them.
If all you remember is the intersection where the station is or was, that’s useful to us. If you remember the name of the station and/or the name(s) of the Japanese American owner(s), even better.
We’re also interested in seeing any photos that people may have of those stations and the people who worked there.
Please fill out this form to submit your response. We’ll use this information to create a database and interactive map of all the gas/service stations in the region, based on all your replies. Thank you!
An image featured in Perseverance: Japanese Tattoo Tradition in a Modern World. Photo by Kip Fulbeck.
Hello to all of our friends Down Under! Did
you know the Perseverance: Japanese
Tattoo Tradition in a Modern World and Tatau:
Marks of Polynesia exhibitions that originated at JANM are currently at the
Immigration Museum in Melbourne, Australia? Perseverance
is a groundbreaking photographic exhibition designed by Kip Fulbeck that
explores the rich history of traditional Japanese tattoo culture and its
influence on modern tattoo practice. Tatau
showcases the beauty of Samoan tattoos as well as the key role they play in the
preservation and propagation of Samoan culture through photographs taken in the
studio and on location in Samoa. Both exhibitions were curated by master tattoo
artist and author Takahiro Kitamura.
An image featured in Tatau: Marks of Polynesia. Tattoo by Sulu‘ape Steve Looney. Photo by John Agcaoili.
Perseverance and Tatau are being presented as part of Our Bodies, Our Voices, Our Marks which features tattooing along with themes of immigration, journeys, the body, heritage, and identity. Arts Review in Australia recently wrote, “What stories do our bodies tell? That is the question Immigration Museum will be inviting visitors to explore when it opens the doors to its winter 2019 season Our Bodies, Our Voices, Our Marks. The suite of exhibitions and experiences includes two photography exhibits that look at the intersection of ancient and modern tattoo practices and a series of contemporary installations curated by Stanislava Pinchuk.”
If you’re in Melbourne, or planning to visit
soon, we hope you’ll stop in at the Immigration Museum for Our Bodies, Our Voices, Our Marks, which is on view until October
6.
On May 25, we are opening At First Light: The Dawning of Asian Pacific America,a multimedia exhibition that explores and celebrates the emergence of a politically defined Asian Pacific American consciousness and identity. A co-production of Visual Communications (VC) and JANM, At First Light chronicles the transformation of the un-American categorization of “Oriental” to the political identity of “Asian Pacific American” that rejected racist stereotypes, stood up for human rights, recovered lost histories, and created new cultural expressions. The exhibition draws from the collection of VC, the first Asian Pacific American media organization in the country, which formed in Los Angeles in 1970 to capture and cultivate the newfound unity that was Asian Pacific America.
Scholar, author, producer, and JANM Chief
Curator Karen Ishizuka, part
of the curatorial team who helped put At
First Light together, says that selecting from thousands of photographs,
hundreds of films, and a vast array of educational materials produced during
the first 20 years of VC’s existence was the most challenging part of creating
this exhibition. Ultimately, there are 30 short videos telling the
stories of places, like Historic Manilatown, and events, such as the first
Asian American march against the Vietnam War.
The largest artifact in the exhibition is a
free-standing cube sculpture created by VC Founding Director Robert A. Nakamura
in 1970. Featuring then
never-before-seen photographs of America’s World War II concentrations camps, the
sculpture was conceived to promote awareness for the repeal of the Emergency
Detention Act of 1950, which granted the government the power to preventatively
detain people during an emergency. Wanting to start an Asian Pacific American
media organization, Nakamura called it a production of Visual Communications.
Ishizuka also says that she is most looking forward to displaying a new video installation entitled FSN 1972, which repurposes early VC productions. Onto the windows and doorways of a 1972 graphic of East First Street in Little Tokyo, filmmaker Tadashi Nakamura inserted motion picture footage from VC films to invoke the current issue of preserving Little Tokyo and the Save First Street North campaign.
The resiliency and resistance embodied in At First Light serve as a reminder—as
well as a call to action—of what can be accomplished when people unite as a
community with commitment. Ishizuka says she hopes visitors learn about how VC has used media as a tool for
self-empowerment and community building and that there has been a long history
of community activism that must be continued.
To commemorate the opening day of the exhibition on May 25 at 2:00 p.m. JANM will host VC co-founders and exhibition curators Duane Kubo, Robert Nakamura, and Eddie Wong in a panel discussion about the history of VC and the creation of this show. They will be joined by Karen Ishizuka, who will moderate the discussion, helping to place VC’s history as the first Asian Pacific American media organization in the country within the context of today’s changing world. RSVP here.
It’s almost your last chance to see the
exhibition Gambatte! Legacy of an Enduring Spirit. Closing April 28, the
exhibition features contemporary photos taken by Pulitzer Prize-winning
photojournalist Paul Kitagaki Jr. displayed next to images shot 75 years ago by
War Relocation Authority (WRA) photographers such as Dorothea Lange and Clem
Albers during World War II. Each pairing in the exhibition features the same
individuals or their direct descendants as the subject matter. Paul spent years
tracking down the formerly unknown subjects in WRA-era photos. After countless
hours at the National Archives in Washington, DC, and through tips from family,
friends, and the public, he found more than 60 individuals or their descendants
to photograph. One such pair of photos in the exhibition features Yukiko
Okinaga Hayakawa.
Yukiko Okinaga Hayakawa was two years old in
1942 when she was photographed waiting at Los Angeles’s Union Station, not far
from her home in Little Tokyo, for a train that would take her and her mother
to the Manzanar concentration camp. In the photo, she’s holding a partially
eaten apple in one hand and a tiny purse in the other. Peeking out from her corduroy
jacket is is the paper family identification tags worn by those forcibly
removed, serving as a reminder of their second class status during this time. Photographer
Clem Albers captured the far-off look in her eyes–a look of confusion and
uncertainty. This now-famous photo has become representative of innocence lost
during that time in history.
In 2005, Paul Kitagaki Jr. traveled with Yukiko
on her first visit to Manzanar since her incarceration. He took her photo in a
field near the camp’s Block 2, where she had once lived. Among the last of the incarcerees
released, she and her mother left Manzanar in October 1945 for Cleveland, Ohio,
where another Japanese American family sponsored them. Her mother went on to
work as a cleaning woman and later as a seamstress. Yukiko went to Lake Forest
College in Illinois and then graduate school at Tulane University in New
Orleans.
Today Yukiko Okinaga Llewellyn (née Hayakawa) is
a retired Assistant Dean of Students and Director of Registered Student
Organizations at the University of Illinois, Champaign-Urbana, where she worked
with Asian student groups and helped establish the university’s Asian Studies program.
She taught about the incarceration experience and was active in the redress
movement.In fact, in the fall of 1986, she wrote to her congressman,
Representative Terry Bruce, and spoke with his staff about the movement.
Through her persistence, the “little girl with the apple” helped win Rep.
Bruce’s support. To this day, Yukiko continues to educate others about what
happened to Japanese Americans in the 1940s in the hope that it doesn’t happen
again to someone else.
Have you seen our exhibition Gambatte! Legacy of an Enduring Spirit yet? It features large-format contemporary photos taken by Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalist Paul Kitagaki Jr. displayed next to images shot 75 years ago by War Relocation Authority (WRA) photographers such as Dorothea Lange and Clem Albers during World War II. Each pairing in the exhibition features the same individuals or their direct descendants as the subject matter.
Paul has spent years tracking
down the formerly unknown subjects in WRA-era photos. After countless hours at
the National Archives in Washington, DC, and through tips from family, friends,
and the public he has found more than 60 individuals or their descendants to
photograph. We caught up with Paul via email to ask him a few questions about
this project, his process, and what he has learned by working with his
subjects.
JANM: What are the
similarities and differences between your Gambatte
work versus your job as a photojournalist?
Paul
Kitagaki Jr: I’ve been a photojournalist for 40 years and have worked at seven
different newspapers on the West Coast. This project has been similar to an
investigative piece, taking a tremendous amount of research, looking for clues to
the identities of unidentified people from over 70 years ago. Once the subject
had been identified, I had to gain their trust to participate. It was very slow
for the first few years. It has taken over 13 years to build this body of work,
matching 61 historical photos with the same subjects today sharing their stories.
When
I started with an idea of finding the identities of the subjects photographed
by Dorothea Lange, I never thought I would find the amount of subjects in the
exhibition and book. These are the images that have been burned in my memory when
I first learned of Executive Order 9066 as a teenager in 1970.
During
my first trip to the National Archives in 1984, I searched over 900 Dorothea
Lange photographs looking for my family. As I looked through the boxes of
images of the government historical record of the incarceration, the faces of
the unidentified Japanese Americans haunted me and I wanted to know what had
happened to them and if their experience was the same or different from my
family. Maybe I could learn more than what my parents hadn’t spoken of.
Yukiko Hayakawa Llewellyn
JANM:
In your Gambatte portraits, are you
more spontaneous with your subjects or are you trying to capture an idea you
conceptualized beforehand?
PK:
When I photograph a subject I have an open mind of how they will be
photographed. I look at the historical photograph of the subject and try to
find a feeling from the image that I might be able to incorporate in my
contemporary photograph. It might be the location of the historical image or
something from the subject’s life today that relates to being a Japanese
American. When I meet them at their home, I collaborate with the subject and
ask for something that might relate to their story. I might ask them if they have
anything personal they brought to camp with them. Many times they don’t have
anything from that time in their lives.
JANM:
Since you’re dealing with serious, oftentimes painful memories, how do you make
your subjects feel at ease and comfortable?
PK:
The subject is very serious, often with painful memories that haven’t been
shared outside of the family and sometimes not even in the family. I explain to
them how important their stories are and that they are the only ones who can
create a lasting personal and historical record of Executive Order 9066. You have to remember that many Sansei, Yonsei, and
Gosei never heard the stories of the incarceration and the emotional and
financial toll it took on their parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents.
Many of the Issei and Nisei didn’t share their stories with their own families.
JANM:
Are there any lasting lessons you’ve learned from the camp survivors you’ve photographed?
A
common theme the survivors voiced is that they don’t want this to happen again,
to anybody. There was nobody to speak out and defend them as they silently went
into the incarceration camps. They all have an inner strength. They wanted to move on and not burden their children
with the shame they endured so many years ago. We saw how their civil rights
had been violated, but they triumphed over adversity, they didn’t give up, they
keep trying to do their best in the most difficult situations while locked away
in the incarceration camps during WWII and that is the spirit of the word gambatte.
JANM:
Can you tell us a little bit about your upcoming book?
PK: The book will be out in April 2019 and is titled Behind Barbed Wire. The 152-page hardcover book with 137 photographs will have 61 stories of the Japanese Americans incarcerated in the camps. We look at the time before forced removal, the forced removal days, and life in the camps. The book is based on 13 years of research from the interviews and photographs from the national touring exhibition Gambatte! Legacy of an Enduring Spirit that has been shown across the country. We are hoping to share the book and exhibition in more places across the US and abroad.
Photographer Paul Kitagaki Jr.
JANM:
What would you like the legacy of this project to be?
PK:
I want the stories and photographs of Executive Order 9066 to be shared with a
diverse audience who might not know what had happened during WWII to Japanese
American citizens. Many of the subjects have said they don’t want this to
happen to anybody else and feel the importance of sharing this story.
I
am still looking for more subjects and hope to add a multimedia video component
to the project. Hearing the voices will be a powerful addition to the story
telling.
In many public and private schools across the nation, this chapter of American history is rarely being taught. This exhibit and book offers a visual opportunity to learn about this time in history and to educate a new generation of gatekeepers, as well as the older generations, about the tragedy of war and the importance of standing up for the constitutional rights of all people. Although the Japanese American incarceration occurred over 70 years ago, events such 9/11, the upheaval that followed, and the racial turmoil in the US reveal that the message of this exhibit is more relevant than ever. I hope that future generations will be inspired by these stories and images. Hopefully, we can get it to more educational institutions such as high schools and universities as part of the reading curriculum. Many school education materials have a few paragraphs, or nothing at all, on the factual information of the incarceration but not the human toll it took on the Issei, Nisei, and Sansei and how it changed their lives forever.
On Saturday, February 9, see Paul Kitagaki Jr. at JANM in conversation with subjects of his work to discuss his creative process, stories about the images, and the effects this project has had on those both behind and in front of the camera. An audience Q&A follows the discussion. On the same day, if you are a JANM member, join Paul Kitagaki Jr. for a members only meet-and-greet and/or a gallery tour of Gambatte! Legacy of an Enduring Spirit (tour limited to 25 participants). RSVP here.
