STICKY SWEET RICE

2 c. glutinous sweet rice
1 c. long grain rice
1/2 tsp. salt
1 cup Chinese sausage, diced
1 c. cooked ham, diced
5 to 7 dried shrimp, presoaked and diced fine
6 to 7 Chinese mushrooms, presoaked and diced
4 to 5 stalks green onion, thinley sliced
1 T. sesame oil
1 T. oil, soy sauce and oyster sauce
4 T. sugar (less if you like it not sweet)
Wash and cook rice as normal with the salt.
Fry Chinese sausage, ham, shrimp and mushrooms in hot oil for 4 minutes.
Add soy sauce, oyster sauce, sesame oil and sugar.
Cook until sugar dissolves. Add green onions.
Stir gently.
Add cooked ingredients to rice and mix well.
TIP: I use the rice cooker to cook the rice and then stir ingredients directly into the rice cooker.

LAZY FRIED RICE

4 c. long grain rice
1/4 c. canola oil
1 (16 oz.) pkg. frozen green peas
2 c. chopped green onions
6 eggs, scrambled, fried and sliced into sm. pieces
1/2 c. soy sauce
1/4 c. meat of your choice (ham, turkey, chicken), cut into cubes
Kamaboko (fish cake) for color (opt.)
Diced celery and grated carrots (my addition)
Cook rice as you normally would in your rice cooker but along with water, add the soy sauce and the oil.
While rice is cooking, mix the rest of the prepared ingredients in a large bowl.
Mix the cooked rice thoroughly with the other ingredients in the bowl.
When this is done, put everything in the rice cooker and set at warm for an additional 15 min.
Easy! That’s why they call it “lazy”.

MICROWAVE HINTS
1. Soften one 8 oz pkg of cream cheese by microwaving at 30 % power for 2
to 2 1/2 min.
One 3 oz. pkg of cream cheese will soften in 1 1/2 to 2 min.
2. A 4 1/2 oz carton of whipped topping will thaw in 1 min on defrost setting.
Whipped topping should be slightly firm in the center, but it will blend well when stirred.
DO NOT over thaw.
3. Refresh stale potato chips, crackers or other snacks of such type by putting a plateful in the microwave for 30-45 seconds.
Let stand for 1 minute to crisp. Cereals can also be crisped.

FOOD FOR THOUGHT:
“Education is to light the flame of a child’s life”.
Words of Wisdom from
Truth of Life.

As an incurable “news junkie” I’ve been following the campaigns leading up to the election of the next US president in November this year with great interest. One vignette during the recent Democratic Caucus in Hawaii was particularly moving for me as a Japanese of mixed background. A local Nikkei lady, who used to be a classmate of candidate Barack Obama in prestigious Punahou (high) School, was asked by CNN how “Barry,” as the only African-American in class, was seen by his school friends.

“We just don’t think about a person’s skin color (in Hawaii). We just relate to them as people (or something to that effect),” she replied casually. The comment struck me as the essence of the spirit of the “Aloha State.” Those words also triggered a flood of memories and thoughts about Hawaii, possibly the most ethnically mixed state in the US, where non-whites make up more than half the 1.3 million population. Nikkei people make up the largest ethnic group at 16.7%, followed by Polynesian at 16% and Filipino 14.1%. Significantly, 20% of the population are of mixed race.
Actually I’ve never been there, except for a brief transit stop at the Honolulu international airport—just long enough to catch a whiff of the sultry tropical air. I’m sure some readers, including those with family links there, must have many pleasant experiences to recount about the Hawaiian ethos. It must have a lot to do with the spirit of aloha—a word that means affection, love, peace, compassion, mercy, goodbye and hello, all rolled into one.

My strongest link to Hawaii is an old buddy from my college days in the 60s. The first time I spoke to him was at a beach party near Yokohama in the summer of 1962 after high school graduation. Though we went to different schools, we were both part of a loose-knit sub-culture of English-speaking kids in the Tokyo-Yokohama area. American, Chinese, Japanese, Filipino and Europeans by nationality, the kids of US military, diplomats and foreign businessmen frequented some neighborhoods and establishments. He stood out because he was comfortable in a social setting of whites and Orientals, where some Caucasian parents, for instance, forbade their daughters to go out with Asian boys. He was one of the most “popular guys,” who happened to be Nikkei.

I already believed at the time Hawaiians were one of the least race-conscious peoples because of the Polynesian islands’ unique history of white and Asian immigration, having heard as much from my late ukulele-strumming father, himself a “Hawaii-o-phile” since pre-WWII years. He had been there. My new friend’s father, a graduate of famed McKinley High School, had been a famous baseball player (catcher) in Hawaii before coming to play professionally in Japan and, later, to manage a very popular Osaka team. I don’t know how much of the affable and generous personality my friend and his father shared was “Hawaiian.” But I do know he made many friends along the way as he first went on to serve with the US forces in Vietnam, where he handled image interpreting, i.e. analyzing detailed aerial photos to identity targets for US Navy fighters and bombers. He then de-enlisted and moved to Denver, Colorado, where he had relatives. He worked for a Japanese airline for a while, before going into his own business. I saw him frequently in Denver and later San Francisco in the early 70s before I moved to Singapore.

He passed away two years ago, and now rests in a military cemetery that look up to the Rockies’ majestic peaks “take on a purple hue as the sun sets,” as he used to say. Indelible are the precious memories of the many nights we spent talking and drinking in his off-campus pad during our student days or in my small apartment in Washington, DC when he was stationed at a US Army fort near Baltimore and I was a news agency journalist. So are words like kanaka (Hawaiian native) hapa haole (half-white) and Meli Kelikimaka (Merry Christmas) that he taught me.
Returning from distant memories to the present via the person of Hawaiian Senator Daniel Inouye, A WW II veteran who lost an arm fighting Germans in Europe. He was a Democratic politician known for integrity and loyalty, who once declared “I’d give up my other arm for my country.” Among other achievements, he figured prominently during the Senate Watergate hearings that led to President Nixon’s resignation in 1974. Then working for a small Japanese language newspaper in San Francisco, I remember writing the front lead headline “Nixon Counselor Calls Inouye “a Little Jap.” It was actually a slick lawyer’s diversionary tactic, but a big enough insult to a war hero to upset Nikkei folks all over North America.

For the recent state Democratic Caucus, Senator Inouye flew back to Honolulu to cast his vote and rally support for his candidate, Hillary Clinton. The vote (75.7% for Obama, 23.6% for Clinton) against Clinton who was backed by Hawaii’s “Democratic political establishment” (20/2/08, the Honolulu Star-Bulletin), including Sen. Inouye, State Senate President Colleen Hanabusa and the powerful Hawaii Government Employees Assocation.

Before the decisive vote took place, I had been a bit surprised that Senator Inouye, now aged 83, still yielded such influence, and thought that the contest might not be an easy one, even for the virtual native son Obama. I had this notion that Hawaiian ethos was more Confucianistic than mainland US because of the large Asian population. For example, I remember the local press did not like to carry criticism of Mr George Ariyoshi, who served as the state’s governor from 1974 to 86. The sentiment, I heard, was that one shouldn’t be “disrespectful” to the head of state, who happened to be the first Asian-American state governor in US history.

The result showed that I didn’t know much about Hawaiian political sentiments. The “unprecedented turnout” (Star-Bulletin) reflected the growing influence of young voters, as seen in other states during the campaign, as well as the popularity of a local high school graduate. Mr Inouye himself called the turnout “historic” and said: “The only thing I can compare this to is the vote for statehood.” That was back in 1959.

A couple of years ago, we shared a coach ride from our hotel near Disneyland to LA International airport with a pleasant Oriental lady and her daughter. We found out they were from Hawaii, and were on their way home to Honolulu. There was something extra open and friendly about their demeanor, perhaps more so than other “Orientals” from numerous communities on the Pacific. But are Hawaiians especially kindly disposed? Natural manifestation of the aloha spirit? Just my favourable bias based on romantic notions? I don’t know, but I do know these notions—nurtured by the sound of my late father’s ukulele and an invaluable life-long friendship—make these islands a special place in my imagination.
What’s fascinating about this drawn-out, made-for-the-media contest for the most powerful office on earth are the subtle differences between the many sub-cultures of the different states. With Hawaii, the difference is not so subtle. More than half non-white—Nikkei the biggest ethnic group, with 20% mixed people—they and many other races coexisting in harmony in a beautiful tropical island setting. Hence my excitement at the words of a former Punahou School student. I also think the multi-cultural environment of Metro Vancouver and beyond do and can share many of Hawaii’s qualities (except for the weather of course).

I was born in Vancouver, and lived the first three and a half years of my life in Richmond on Blundell Road. Both my father and grandfather have served as resident minister at the Steveston temple and when I was growing up, I used to spend almost every summer visiting my grandparents and uncles who lived in Steveston. I have some very fond memories of going to catch frogs in the ditches of Steveston.

I have served for the past fifteen and a half years as a resident minister of the Toronto Buddhist Church and have been the Senior Minister here since 1996. During my term in Toronto, the single largest project that I was involved in was the building of our new temple of which we moved into in August of 2005. It was a five-year project that saw us move into our new facility with the opening ceremony being done together with the BCC Centennial Celebration in 2005.

As for our move to Steveston, my family and I (my wife and I have four kids, two boys, ages 16 and 13, and two girls ages 5 and 4) are looking forward to moving out west. It will mean new challenges and opportunities. In a way it is like going home for me, as many of the congregation have known me from when I was in diapers, although I must admit that I was too young to remember them. Although we are looking forward to a new beginning, there is also a sense of sadness as we must say farewell to the many friends that we have become so close to during our life here in Toronto. Our eldest was only eight months old when we arrived here and the other three were all born in Toronto. But as the Buddhist adage states, Life is constantly changing and it is how we deal with the changes that makes the difference in how we live our lives.

Reverend Masumi Kikuchi has been with the Steveston Buddhist Temple for the past three and half years. She is returning to Japan to look after some medical issues. Rev. Kikuchi recently spoke to The Bulletin from Japan.

You were born at the Genkohji Temple in Amagasaki city, Hyogo-ken, where you family has been looking after the temple for over 500 years. Was it expected that you would become a Buddhist minister, or did you have a choice of professions?
From the time I was child, my parents expected me to become minister’s wife. However, when I was 18 years old, I developed a herniated disc in my lower back and it changed my life. I started seeking for the true meaning of my existence.

How are Buddhist priests and ministers regarded in Japan – are they treated with respect by everyday people? Is it seen as a respectable profession?
I think people respect Buddhist ministers quite differently in Japan. As you know, Japanese people are very polite and they treat us very respectfully. However, on the other hand politeness might create the space between people. Off course, it depends on each minister, but Japanese members do not talk with ministers the same as North Americans when it comes to questions and answers about Buddhism.

Can you compare the life of a Buddhist minister with, say, a Christian minister? Are the lifestyle and expectations the same?
Our tradition has permitted marriage since our founder Shinran about 800 years ago, so our life is quite similar to Protestant ministers. But in Japan, Buddhist temples seem owned by ministers instead of members, like in Christian organizations. But our temples in Canada are similar to Christian churches, which are owned by members.

What made you decide to come to Canada and become an overseas minister?
For me to become a Buddhist minister was quite natural as it is my family’s tradition. But when I was young, I heard about overseas ministers and I felt I really want to be one. Coming to Canada was coincidence. We are able to choose Hawaii, the US, or Canada. After my examination to become an overseas minister, by accident, I got an interview with the Bishop from Canada.

Are there many female ministers in Japan? How about in Canada?
In our tradition—Jodo Shinshu Hongwanjiha, the largest religious organization in Japan—we have over 10,000 temples, about 20,000 male ministers and about 8,500 female ministers, so more than one third are female. My grandmother, my mother and my three sisters are all ministers, however, at other temples they usually do house work as ministers’ wives. In our tradition in Canada, I am the only active female minister. I know some ministers’ wives who have received some ordination, but they are working more as minister’s wives.

Are there any special challenges being a female Buddhist minister?
Yes and no . . . I believe we have same opportunities as male ministers in Canada. However, because I am the first female Japanese minister in Canada, I think I have had to work harder than male ministers in order to have people trust me.

You have been in Canada for six years now – what is your impression of Canada? Does it feel like home now?
I really like Canada and feel this is my second home country. Canadian people are very polite and not too aggressive. The Steveston area, which is where I reside, I feel this is one of the best places to live!

You are leaving the Steveston Buddhist Church at the end of March – what are your plans after that?
I am going on medical leave, so I will concentrate on my treatment and rest. But I will study a little bit more in Kyoto to deepen my understanding of Buddhism.

I understand that you are a beautiful singer. Did you study singing or did it just come naturally? Is it a good skill to have as a minister?
Thank you very much for your compliment! I have loved singing from my university days. I belonged to university’s Buddhist choir. I had to practice four times a week during that time and did solos sometimes at the concerts. To learn the solo parts, I had to go my voice trainer’s place very often by myself—it was really hard. However, this skill may have given me more opportunity to “Reach the Hearts”. All religions are related very closely with music, such as Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism and so on. I see chanting as Buddhist music and one of my teachers says, “You have to chant like a bird in the Pure Land . . . the birds sing so beautifully and make people aspire to be reborn into the Pure Land.”

What have you enjoyed most about being minister in Steveston?
As you know, I was in Toronto for three and half years. Compared to there, Steveston has a wonderful Japanese legacy. And people in Steveston are very laid back. I find I really like to be here. I love Steveston and the people in Steveston who still keep the Japanese concepts of “Giri” and “Ninjo.”

What are your interests outside of Buddhism?
So far, I am interested in just Buddhism and I think it will continue until my death. There are lot of things to do for Buddhist propagation and further study of Buddhism. I think this mentality comes from my parents who have worked for Buddhist propagation their whole life.

There are many challenges facing the world today. Do you see Buddhism playing any kind or role in helping to solve any of these issues, or is it more of a way of coming to peace within ones self? In other words, are there any ways that Buddhism reaches beyond the personal to become more activist?
In our teaching, self reflection and being grateful are most important. Buddhist achievement is attainment of enlightenment—to become “Buddha”, “the state of non-ego” or “the state of non-attachment”. Firstly, Buddhists seek for inner peace, and then help others. I know many Buddhist ministers who are very active in environment, political and social issues especially in Japan. Buddha feel other’s sorrow, and pain is his sorrow and pain. We respect Christian social activities and we should learn from them.

Are there any words or thoughts you would like to share with the people of Steveston as you prepare to leave?
Arigatou gozaimasu. Thank you very much! When I recover, I hope I will return to Canada someday! I will never forget your generosity, kindness and your heart warming Miyo-ben (Wakayama dialect). I will really miss all of you. May all attain the perfect peace . . . Namo Amidabutsu (I rely on Buddha of infinite life and light).

The outpouring of support from the community has been overwhelming. We are truly grateful for the donations of goods, services, temporary accommodation and cash we have received. People from near and far have offered assistance, support and words of encouragement.

Fundraising events are being planned over the next several months to assist us in the rebuilding effort. I would like to offer my sincere thanks to Rob Chalmers, an off-duty Kamloops firefighter who first alerted the occupants of the cultural centre and, with the assistance of our coordinator George Uyeda, led them to safety.

George continues to work tirelessly to oversee the recovery operation and is deserving of special recognition. While the extent of the damage has yet to be fully determined, it is clear the impact of the inferno was lessened considerably due to the efforts of the Kamloops Fire Rescue Service. The firefighters did an exceptional job attacking the blaze and protecting the precious archival items.

Miraculously, much of the collection of historically significant material stored in the basement escaped serious damage. Among the items saved by the quick action of firefighters was a set of taiko drums that were placed in the basement only four days prior to the blaze.

The board of directors of the Kamloops Japanese Canadian Association is resolute in its desire to overcome this tragedy and restore what was lost. Japanese Canadians are no strangers to adversity. Past struggles have forged our members’ strength of will and united them in a common purpose.

We are confident that with the support of the community, the Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre will rise from the ashes to resume its position in the cultural landscape of Kamloops.

Les Tabata
President, Kamloops Japanese
Canadian Association

Despite their efforts, the fire climbed the fence, went up the side of the building and into the roof. The fire spread quickly across the roof, destroying it, and bringing the ceiling down. The entire main floor of the building has been destroyed, and most of the furniture and other items inside are gone. Miraculously, most of the larger kitchen equipment are salvageable. All food items, crafts, display items, sales items, etc. were destroyed.

Says Betty, “The firefighters did an exceptional job of attacking the blaze and protecting the precious archival items. Most of the collection of historically significant material stored in the basement escaped serious damage. Among the items saved by the quick action of firefighters was a set of taiko drums that were recently purchased and placed in the basement only four days prior to the blaze.

“A restoration company has removed everything from the building, and is in the process of cleaning, restoring, and boxing the goods for storage. A contractor has been hired and is at present tearing down the remainder of the building and assessing the damage to the basement and foundation. Rebuilding should start in a few weeks.

“The Kamloops Buddhist Temple has kindly offered us the use of their temple, thus our member activities such as Seniors’ carpet bowling, Seniors Drop-In, Craft Group are continuing there. We have also rented store front space in the Northills Shopping Centre across from our Centre, and this will be our headquarters as of March 1. We will also be storing all our salvaged goods in the same area. If in the area, please drop in to see us.”

For those interested in supporting the Centre, fund raising efforts have started and a KJCA Rebuilding Account has bene opened. The first fund raising event is an Acoustic Guitar Concert on March 11 by The Groove Brothers who are touring BC. More fund raising events will be announced in the near future.

“The outpouring of support from the community has been overwhelming. Offers of donations of goods, services, temporary accommodation and cash are being received daily. We wish to thank all the people from near and far who have offered assistance, support and words of encouragement,” says Betty Inouye.

The Cultural Centre was officially opened on November 5, 1994 and they are hoping to be back in the newly rebuilt Cultural Centre before November 5 of this year.

I admit it – I am a late adopter. And no, that’s not a synonym for slow learner. All right, it’s true I didn’t learn to ride a bike until I was eleven. But that’s not a big deal, is it? And I didn’t learn to drive a car until I was in my twenties—what did I need a car for, I had a bike! So clearly, I’ve never been one to jump too hastily into anything—perhaps stemming from the time I was goaded into jumping off the carport roof (with cries of “chicken!” ringing in my ears) against my better judgement, only to sprain my ankle on the first jump. I ended up missing a week of school, and this in the days before 24/7 cartoon networks. I guess I did learn a thing or two from the soap operas that ruled the daytime airwaves in those days; but that’s another story . . .

At least when I was younger a bike was a bike and a car was a car. It wasn’t until the computer age turned everyday life on its head that the issue of adopting new technology really became an issue. Here, I think, my methodical approach to taking on new challenges has paid off, although in this case I think the impetus for adopting new technology late is my inherent cheapness. When CD players came out, they were expensive. When computers came out, they were expensive. When iPods came out . . . I think you can see where I’m going here. Anyway, as I watched everyone else running out to buy the latest technology, only to have the prices drop a month or two later, it only confirmed my wait-and-see approach.

The funny thing is that once I finally do take the plunge and adopt a new piece of technology, I fall head-over-heels in love with it. Once I finally got a CD player, my record collection became something that I carted from new house to new house but never listened to, until I finally sold or gave them all away prior to our last move. I finally bought a computer years after my parents did (“what would I ever want with one of those?!”) with the idea that I would use it as a glorified typewriter (no more white out!). Now, of course, I make my living sitting in front of my two monitors (yes, it took me years to buy a second one, now I couldn’t live without it) and tapping away at my keyboard. (A weird aside here: lately I’ve found myself trying to hit the “undo” button in all kinds of situation—like painting the kitchen or spilling wine on the carpet. How’s that for losing touch with reality?). My iPod goes everywhere with me (Current contents: 4842 songs – that’s 14.2 days of continuous listening without repeating anything. Current favourites: Great Lake Swimmers, Lightening Dust, Cat Power, Patty Griffin, Steve Earle and the soundtrack to I’m Not There).

So where am I going with all this, you may well ask . . . I’m going blogging is where I’m going. Yes, your faithful servant and editor has joined the ranks of the blogosphere. And as is my wont, I’m several years behind the pack—I’m sure everyone else is busy chasing some new cutting-edge technological rainbow to some other pot of gold. It all started several months ago when I finally got down to building a Bulletin website, just in time for our 50th Anniversary year. I got the site up and running and it looked pretty good (www.jccabulletin-geppo.ca), but geez, was it a pain to update! (which is why I put it off for so long—the idea of sweating blood to get The Bulletin off to the printer and then having to do it all again for the web version did not fill me with joy). And then I had an epiphany one morning: what about blogging software? It was supposed to be easy to use. That’s all I knew, though. So I sent a quick e-mail off to Toddish McWong (of Gung Haggis Fat Choy fame) as I knew he ran a popular blog. He assured me that it was as easy as pie. He sent me to someone who sent me to the WordPress website. And the rest is history. I may be slow but I’m not stupid and I quickly figured out this was the way to go. So I converted the new Bulletin website to a blog format. That seemed pretty easy, so I thought, what the heck, and set up an actual blog—canadiannikkei.ca/blog. It has been a real shift in thinking for me. As an editor, I am used to collecting information, stories and photos over the course of a month and then publishing everything all at once on press day. No more. Now I can post information as it comes in, whether it’s news of the Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre in Kamloops burning down (and the subsequent benefit concert by the Groove Brothers in support of the Centre) or an announcement of an upcoming event. Everything and anything goes up on the blog, unconstrained by length considerations. Any information that remains current at the end of the month goes into The Bulletin. It’s all good!

As for the internet killing off printed books and magazines (like The Bulletin), it’s not going to happen. While websites and blogs serve a useful purpose (like instantaneous information at ones’ fingertips) they present a different way of looking at the world and a complement to existing technology like books, magazines and newspapers. (It doesn’t always go both ways: books that claim to be guides to the internet are just plain weird – but websites that point to good books, now that makes sense.)

They say that one has to keep one’s mind active in order to keep it healthy, and this newfound blogging activity has certainly kept me on my mental toes. As a newbie, I am learning something every day and somehow it’s strangely comforting to know that I’m in good company. I feel locked into an enormous network of fellow bloggers out there in the blogoshere, all with varying levels of expertise, but learning as we go.

Anyway, I hope you will all continue reading The Bulletin in all its printed glory, but will check out the Bulletin website and my new blog too—it’s a brave new world out there. And it’s in colour!

And as for this blu-ray thing I’ve been reading about lately . . . I think I’ll give it another couple of years . . .

Personally, I found it a problematic show to critique. As I understand it, the intent was never to create a literal homage to Roy or his work, but rather to use his creative energy to inspire new works. The fact that none of the composers were familiar with Roy and his catalogue was deemed irrelevant from the start. Given this stated intent, it is difficult to criticize the show for having so little of Roy Kiyooka or his spirit represented in it. Yet I couldn’t help feeling that in many ways, the evening was the antithesis of how Roy approached his own art. While his early painting and sculpture showed an adherence to precise geometry, he eventually moved away from that in favour of a more extemporaneous approach. To attempt to capture Roy’s creative spirit within the constructs of new music, which tends towards the intellectual rather than the visceral, is in itself somewhat of a contradiction. Still, it felt like a brave effort and for the most part I enjoyed the evening—or at least as much as I can enjoy a show that I know I have to write about later.

The primary musical focus of the show was the Standing Wave Ensemble (along with violinist Mark Ferris), who performed pieces by four composers—Jocelyn Morlock, Stefan Smulovitz, Stefan Udell and Hildegard Westerkamp—all commissioned to write new works for the occasion.

Entering the theatre, audience members were invited to pick out a small rock to hold during the performance, each one labeled with a bit of wordplay. My rock was labeled gLOVEs, an apparent reference to Roy’s StoneDGloves, a photographic and poetic essay based on discarded work gloves at construction sites in Osaka, Japan at the time of Expo ‘70. This work was reflected again in an array of gloves that were hung from the ceiling above the stage.

The stage itself was decorated simply: the musicians were surrounded by a field of river rocks, among which several video monitors were imbedded. A screen at the back of the stage was set up for video projection.

There is no denying the virtuosity of the musicians or the complexity of the pieces they were given to perform. This was, after all, a new music concert, and true to form, very little of the music fell into a familiar pattern, in terms of either rhythm or melody. And while long stretches were given over to the deliberately intellectual (and non-populist) elements that so often characterize new music compositions, they were interspersed with moments of great beauty and sonic genius.

While the musicianship was uniformly excellent, I have to single out cellist Peggy Lee, a stalwart of Vancouver’s music scene, who provided some of the most sublime moments of the evening, particularly during one solo partway through the evening that she attacked with her customary verve and sensitivity.

The evening was treated as one long uninterrupted piece, with no breaks to distinguish one composer’s work from another’s. Still, one composition stood out from the others. Having known Roy since childhood, and being so familiar with the unique quality of his voice and laughter, Westerkamp’s MotherVoiceTalk moved me at an emotional level for the first time in the programme. It also seemed the most successful in terms of capturing Roy’s essence. Unlike the other compositions, it directly referenced Roy through fragments of his taped voice (and also included Roy’s mother’s voice, the composer’s voice and her own mother’s voice). Perhaps it is the fact that the spoken word summons an immediate emotional response on the part of the listener that elevated it (in my estimation, anyway) above the pieces that flanked it.

It was also the only time when the focus was taken off the musicians as they were shrouded in near-darkness, allowing the recorded score to take over, although a few of the musicians did provide some live accompaniment.

Westerkamp, clearly perplexed by the challenge presented to her by the commission, muses on tape about the difficulties she is having. “What have I let myself in for?” she asks herself. A bit later Roy can be heard echoing the same thing—“What have I let myself in for?” followed by his inimitable laughter, providing one of the few moments of humour in the evening, but also forging a connection, however tenuous, between subject and composer.

Sound poet Kedrick James added a spoken-word element to the show—appearing several times throughout the proceedings. At times, for brief flashes, the tone of his voice and his cadence almost felt as if it was channeling Roy’s, which was a little spooky. Still, the poetry felt somewhat superfluous to me, as if perhaps it was tacked on to add a multi-disciplinary element.

After the concert, we walked through the east Vancouver streets back to our friends’ house. I think we all needed a drink after what was a long time sitting in one place. My friend Richard, who never knew Roy and who is not familiar with new music, had an interesting take on the show – he thought it was approaching misrepresentation to use Roy’s name in the title of the piece, as he came away feeling no greater insight into the man or his art. It was an interesting statement, as I myself was unable to separate my experience of the music from my experience knowing Roy Kiyooka. While I thought the evening perhaps did not meet its full potential, I found it thought-provoking, and I appreciated the opportunity to reflect on Roy, his life and his art.