If the recently-concluded Vancouver/Whistler Olympic Winter Games© were the equivalent of a gigantic reality TV show, then they had an ending so improbable it had to be scripted . . . I mean, come on: it’s the last event of the Games, Team Canada is on the verge of sending millions of delirious Canadians into the streets to celebrate Canada’s record-breaking 14th gold medal when the Americans tie it with 24 seconds to go, sending the entire nation into a state of shock and then we come back to win it off the stick of NHL poster-boy Sydney Crosby eight minutes into overtime, sending millions of delirious (and relieved) Canadians into the streets . . .

If this was a TV movie, we would all be rolling our eyes. Instead, we were high-fiving each other with a giddiness made all the more delicious by the near disaster. Seldom has hockey felt less like a game and more like a shared cultural/religious experience. For those few moments, we could forget that Team Canada was a group of pampered, over-paid athletes who mostly play for American NHL teams, and cheer them on as Canadian boys representing their country for a prize that could, unlike the Stanley Cup, be shared by all Canadians.

That none of the Canadian hockey players bothered showing up at the closing ceremonies removed some of the lustre and reinforced the difference between the professional athletes and their poorer but no-less-worthy amateur cousins (including the gold-medal-winning women’s hockey team). Still, it was a game and outcome for the ages.

Gold medal hockey games aside, there were enough compelling stories over the past few weeks to fill newscast after newscast. Far be it for me to repeat them here. Instead, allow me to share a few closing thoughts and observations on the Games.

The Good
The Canadian public (or ordinary Canadians, as politicians are fond of calling us). It was extraordinary, really, to witness the sense of communal pride that the Games ignited across the country. There’s a fine line between patriotism and nationalism, and I think for the most part we stayed on the right side of the line. Even the Olympic organizers were stunned at the level of patriotic fervour that swept the nation.

The Bad
Seeing speed skater Cindy Klaasen and other athletes shilling for McDonalds is just wrong. As Vancouver Sun columnist Dan Gardiner wrote in an opinion piece, “Governments give public money to the Olympics, in part to encourage healthy lifestyles, and this money helps make the Olympics a brand so powerful that McDonald’s and Coca-Cola pay to associate themselves with it in order to strengthen their own brands and improve sales of junk that contributes to the spiralling rates of obesity and obesity-related diseases which governments are fighting by spending large and growing amounts of money on, among other things, the Olympics.” It’s bad enough that McDonalds, Coke and GM are key sponsors of the world’s largest sporting event, but to have respected athletes plugging their artery-clogging products is truly depressing. And c’mon – Wonder Bread??

The Ugly
The reader comments that were posted on online news coverage of the Olympic Games. Many of them made those vapid “man-on-the-street” interviews that run on TV news stories look like PhD dissertations. Anyone who thinks Canadians are tolerant, well-educated, fair-minded people hasn’t spent much time online. To be sure, the people posting these jingoistic, racist, misspelled rants are not a true cross-section of Canadians, but they’re ugly just the same.

Lips in Synch
Despite the assertion by David Atkins, executive producer of the Vancouver opening ceremonies, that lip-synching is done at virtually all live events, it takes away much of the authenticity as far as I’m concerned. If I want to hear Nelly Furtado and Bryan Adams sing pitch-perfect renditions of their songs I’ll buy their CDs. On second thought, I won’t. At least they didn’t follow the lead of the Chinese in Beijing and have a cuter slam poet lip-synch Shane Koyczan’s moving ode to Canada.

Diversity-be-damned
Anyone watching the opening ceremonies would be forgiven for thinking that Canada is a nation of English-speaking, fiddle-playing white people who get along well with the First Nations minority and, oh yeah, have some happy Francophones in their midst as well. There were a fair number of comments following the ceremonies expressing disappointment that our country’s diversity wasn’t better represented. Hopefully, they said, this would be rectified in the closing ceremonies. Silly people. Instead, in a strange attempt at self-deprecating humour, we were treated to a larger-than-life display of every Canadian stereotype in the book, from Mounties (what, no turbans? no tasers?), to hockey players, lumberjacks (where was Monty Python when you needed them?), moose, beavers and canoes. I’m not sure, but I bet the self-referential humour was lost on most out-of-town viewers. The bizarre monologues by  Captain Kirk (sorry, William Shatner), Catherine O’Hara and Michael J. Fox did nothing to dispel the oddness of it all. And then the bands were trotted out: Neil Young (no lip-synching there!), Nickelback, Avril Lavigne, Alanis Morissette, Simple Plan and Hedley. Oh, yeah, and that black rapper fellow, what’s his name? K-OS. We’re diverse all right . . . as diverse as a shopping mall in Prince George at Christmas . . .

Snarky comments aside, the Games were exciting, with the athletes’ performances and class outshining all else. We threw the best Winter Games in history. and were near-perfect hosts while doing it. Here’s hoping the benefits are long-lasting and the hangover not too severe.

See you next month!

Photo by James Murray, courtesy of Shushwap Market News

On Wednesday January 27, schools in Salmon Arm, BC were closed so that students could attend the Olympic torch relay and cauldron lighting. To the delight of all, the final leg of the relay was run by popular former Salmon Arm teacher and principal Roy Sakaki, who took the torch from local curling Olympian Sandra Jenkins and lit the cauldron in front of City Hall after doing an impromptu dance on the stage.

The Sakaki family is well-known in Kamloops and the surrounding area. In 1949, Roy’s father Tetsuo Sam started a service station there, determined to start over after losing his Vancouver business in 1942. The business flourished over the next fifty years and went on to become one of the largest Toyota and Nissan dealerships in the interior. Roy is the youngest of eight siblings. While the other four boys in the family joined their father in operating the business, Roy continued his education and went on to become first a teacher and eventually a school principal. Always the most athletic member of  the family, he was involved in many local sport teams and even played for the hockey team at the University of British Columbia. Even today, after retirement, he continues to operate his own hockey school for kids.
Given his service to the community, Roy was the unanimous choice of the Salmon Arm Olympic committee to represent the city in lighting the Olympic cauldron.

As he told the Shushwap Market News, “I was so nervous, so emotional. I’ve got my pockets full of Kleenex, because I really didn’t know how I was going to react, but to take this torch and run it up in front of the community of Salmon Arm, I have never been so proud. I’m on top of the world!”

Roy spoke to The Bulletin about his experience: “It was an honour and privilege to be the final torchbearer for the city of Salmon Arm. I was so fortunate to be able to light the cauldron in front of many students, friends, my own children, my grandchildren and my brothers and sisters and my partner Sandy, who all came out to support me. When I got onto the stage, I felt I was floating on a cloud and began doing the moonwalk!!! I had a call from Dale Johnston (formerly Miwa) and she left a message on my phone . . . she said it made all Japanese Canadians proud of this event. Dale’s husband, Howard, was a former Member of Parliament and passed away a few years ago.Can you believe Mrs. Miwa was my brother’s grade one teacher in 1951 in Kamloops. Since the January 27th event, I have been invited to schools, Alzheimer’s Walk of Memories and to people’s houses . . . everyone wants to touch the torch. It has been a great way to unite Canadians from coast to coast. My last comment on the stage was to honour Shea Weber and his family whom I have known since Shea’s minor hockey days in Sicamous.”

In addition to the torch relay itself, residents were on hand to show support for Weber, a defenseman on Team Canada’s gold medal-winning men’s hockey team who was born in nearby Sicamous. Drafted in the second round, 49th overall by the Predators in the 2003 NHL Entry Draft, Weber plays for the Nashville Predators and has also suited up for the Sicamous Eagles of the Kootenay International Junior Hockey League, the Kelowna Rockets of the Western Hockey League and the Milwaukee Admirals of the American Hockey League.

In 2006, Arts Beatus presented an exhibit by doll artist Tomoka Ike based on The Tale of the Heike, an epic account of the struggle between the Taira and Minamoto clans for control of Japan at the end of the 12th century. This month, Ike returns to Arts Beatus with a much more down-to-earth exhibit. Conversations on the Street is inspired by people she has met, conversations she has overhead, and strangers she has spoken to on the streets of Vancouver, BC.
I spoke to Tomoka Ike by e-mail.

In Her Own Words: Tomoka Ike

You’re a doll artist, which is a rather unusual occupation. How did you become involved in doll making?
When I was around the eight or nine years old, I was making paper dolls for my sisters and friends. At that time, after the war, most of Japanese little girls didn’t have a doll to play with except a temporary doll made by folded zabuton, and of course no fabric to make it with. My paper dolls were appreciated by my friends. When we grew up, we forget about playing with dolls and I got interested in books, but I always felt a little excitement when I read a scene with a doll as in Le Misérable or A Little Princess. I would read that scene over and over. About 35 years ago, I was a mother, a wife, a working woman, with what I felt was a bit boring of a daily routine. I felt like I must do something new, so I tried to find a suitable thing for me to do. I knitted, made hats, and dresses, quilting. It was always with fabric. In 1978, when I was 37-years-old, I went to the book store and saw a book on how to make fabric dolls. There was a gorgeous, lacy, frilled doll on a cover, and I thought, this is it! Since then, I have made fabric dolls a life-long hobby.

You immigrated to Canada in 1980. What brought you here?
I just wanted to go to somewhere I didn’t know yet. I am always looking for new encounters. The first time I stepped outside the Vancouver Airport, it was a snowy and cold day in December. The city was so quiet, Christmas decorations sparkled, it was so beautiful. I strongly remember thinking, I am going to have an original doll show here someday. That dream came true in 2006 when I exhibited the Japanese historical story The Tale of the Heike with 19 dolls at Arts Beatus. That was my most memorable moment in Canada.

Do you make a living creating dolls?
Yes and no. The main reason I make dolls is because it is my passion, my enjoyment, my fate, but of course I have sold a lot of dolls as well. I have also donated to the Children’s Hospital at the Christmas time and presented countless dolls to be adopted by friends all over the world. Now I am a pensioner,  but feel like I am a doll artist more than ever.

This exhibit is titled Conversations on the Street. What does the title mean?
As I said, I always like to have new encounters, get new knowledge, meet new people. I find people’s faces interesting and sculptural. I love the dolls, but more interesting are the people. I like to feel people’s hearts from their expression, I like to feel people’s happiness, sadness, warmness, loneliness, etc. I like to say to people, hello how are you today? Those words sometimes lead to a small conversation and a smile,  which sometimes then lead to a big conversation and big smile. These dolls in the show this time, they are all strangers to me, people I met on the streets of Vancouver.

In Japan, dolls have a long history and are highly valued, yet your dolls have a very different feel. How did you develop your techniques?
I started from one book. After that, I learned the techniques from craft book and other sources. I used all different kinds of material, as much as I could get hold of. Of course I made a lot of fancy dolls just for display or hugging dolls for children, too. I am a doll artist, but before that I am a live person and I like to feel people’s lives.
The dolls, they are just a piece of fabric, a plastic, a wire and stuffing, but if you put them together and use a little imagination, you can make them alive. If you feel my dolls are unique, you are not seeing the dolls, you are seeing my impression. You are seeing your life.

Have you been downtown during the Olympics? Have you gotten any inspiration for new dolls based on all the people down there?
Yes, I went downtown almost every day. Rain or shine, it doesn’t matter. I like to see people and feel their emotional energy. Today, I was watching the hockey on the TV, but when Canada got the last big gold medal and the city exploded, I went outside and joined the crazy Canadians.
I don’t know if these crazy, excited people have given me any inspiration for my next project yet. Right now, I am comfortably exhausted from the Olympics!

Conversations on the Street
Featuring Works by Doll Artist, Tomoka Ike
February 5, 2010 – April 9, 2010
Art Beatus (Vancouver)
Located in the Nelson Square Office Tower at 108 – 808 Nelson Street in Vancouver, BC. Art Beatus (Vancouver) Consultancy Ltd. is open Monday to Friday, 10am-6pm and is closed on weekends and holidays.  Underground and street parking is available. Free admission.

TERIYAKI SHRIMP
1 lb. medium size shrimp
1 tsp. grated ginger
1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup soy sauce
sesame seeds

Without removing shells, cut open shrimp from the back and butterfly
Remove black sandy cord from back; place toothpick crosswise through shrimp to hold flat
Marinate in sauce of ginger, sugar and soy sauce for 30 min.; drain
Broil until done
Twist toothpicks and remove; sprinkle sesame seeds.

TERIYAKI SCALLOPS
2 T. soya sauce
1 T. mirin
2 tsp. sake
1 tsp. sugar
1 lb. large scallops
1 T. oil

Mix soya sauce, mirin, sake and sugar in medium bowl: stir to dissolve sugar
Add scallops, let stand 10 min. turning occasionally
Drain scallops, reserving marinade.
To broil, place place scallops on preheated broiler rack; brush lightly with marinade.
Broil about 4 in. from heat source until brown, 4-5 min.
Turn scallops; brush lightly with marinade.
Broil just until scallops are opaque in centre and cooked through, 4-5 min.

ROLLED BEEF WITH VEGETABLES
2 gobo (vinegar water –1 part vinegar, 3 parts water)
1 cup dashi
1 T. sugar
1 T. shoyu
1 lb. sukiyaki beef
1 T. mirin
1 T. shoyu
flour
4 carrots , cut in strips and parboiled
small bunch of green beans, parboiled
2 T. oil
3 T. mirin
3 T.shoyu

Clean and cut gobo into strips. Soak in vinegar water. Bring to a boil; drain
Cook in dashi, sugar and shoyu 5 min.
Mix beef with 1 T. mirin and 1 T. shoyu. Take a small portion of meat; flatten and sprinkle lightly with flour.
Lay a few strips of gobo, carrots and beans in a row in middle of beef. Roll up. Fasten with toothpicks. Repeat making rolls.
Brown rolls in oil. Add 3 T. mirin and 3 T. shoyu, cooking slowly until juice is gone.
Remove toothpicks while hot.
Cut pieces diagonally.

I serve this on top of finely shredded lettuce.

DAIKON SUNOMONO
2 1/2 large daikon
1 medium carrot
3 age
2 T. kiri konbu, soak 5 min. and drain.
1 T. salt

Dressing:
2/3 c. sesame seeds, toasted
1 c. sugar
1/2 c. white vinegar

Peel daikon and carrot. Cut the size of toothpicks.
Open age; cut in 2 inch strips. Cook age in water for 3 min, and drain.
Cook carrots in a large kettle for 1 or 2 min. in a little water.
Add daikon, age, kombu and salt. Stir together 3 or 4 min. until lukewarm. Drain the water.
Grind sesame seeds.
Add sugar and vinegar
Add the sesame dressing to other ingredients.
Cool and pack in a jar.
Keep refrigerated.

We are organizing a birthday party get together for all those born in 1930.
The party will be held in some Chinese Restaurant sometime in May.
Please reply if you could join us to this E-mail or 604.277.7591.
If you know anyone else turning 80 this year, please invite them to join us.

The current exhibit of photographs by Ansel Adams and Leonard Frank at the Japanese Canadian National Museum raises intriguing questions. The juxtaposition of those two sets of images is a powerful statement about how the same type of event can be represented so differently, depending on what perspective one is taking. This is particularly relevant for me right now, because I am one of a group of researchers who has been looking for historical photographs to include in a computer software program that is designed to support reminiscence-based conversations for people with dementia who grew up in BC.

A bit of background here: in my work as a researcher and, before that, as a speech-language pathologist working with people with dementia and their families, I learned how difficult it can be to keep conversations going with someone with dementia. It can be a major challenge for families, but it is even more difficult for those less familiar with the person with dementia, including, for instance, those who work with that person in day programs or long-term care facilities. Far too often, the consequence of conversational difficulty is that people with dementia become even more socially isolated from others in their community.

In Dundee, Scotland, a team of researchers developed a computer software program called CIRCA (Computer Interactive Reminiscence Conversation Aid) to support conversations between people with dementia and those who care for them. The program incorporates different media including photos, music, and video clips, primarily from the 1940s and 1950s, that are familiar to people who grew up in the Dundee area. The program is very easy to use, with touchscreen technology so that either conversation partner, even someone with dementia, can just touch the screen to choose the media that appears. The Dundee researchers learned that the program is very engaging, both for people with dementia and for their conversation partners, prompting long-term memories and occasional stories from people with dementia in ways that other types of reminiscence-based activities do not.

We are a team of researchers in BC who are customizing the CIRCA program so that it can be used with BC seniors with dementia. The program that we build as CIRCA-BC will, we hope, support people with dementia by helping those who care for them to involve them in conversations. But we hope it will do more than that. We hope that it will also help to keep people with dementia as part of their community longer, by creating opportunities for them to talk about their part in the shared history that defines that community. However, for CIRCA-BC to highlight that shared history well, it needs to capture the regional and cultural diversity of people living in the province, particularly during the1940s and the 1950s. In particular, it should represent that diversity through the images and voices of different communities themselves, and so we are looking for guidance from seniors from these different communities about which memories, which images, which stories, we should include.

This brings me back to the point about the Leonard Frank-Ansel Adams exhibit. I found myself asking as I explored these photographs: how, if at all, should the BC internment of Japanese-Canadians be represented in the CIRCA-BC program? This is just one of many questions for which community input is so important. Therefore, we are inviting seniors from the Japanese-Canadian community who are long-time residents of BC to participate in our project to create CIRCA-BC. We will be holding an information session at the National Nikkei Museum & Heritage Centre on Wednesday March 17 at 2pm. Please come if you are interested in learning more about the project.

Barbara Purves
Assistant Professor,
School of Audiology & Speech Sciences
University of British Columbia

Now that the Winter Olympics have come and gone, it all seems like a big blur – with an overall impression that Canada did well. Leaving the medal count and the rest of the big news to the mainstream media, I’ve strung together some comments and vignettes, heard personally or seen on the internet, about some cultural facets of the Games and about Vancouver, its setting. Of particular concern for us living in the cusp of Canadian and Japanese cultures must be how visitors from Japan and Japanese TV viewers saw our social environment.

Saving the answer to that for the end, I’ll start with my experiences while accompanying Mr M, a reporter sent by a Japanese provincial daily to cover the Games, for whom I was interpreting. During a quick dinner at a Japanese restaurant near Thurlow and Alberni one night shortly after he arrived, I made a casual remark about how Mr M, some 30 years my junior as a journalist, made the right choice in joining a reputable provincial paper rather than a large bureaucracy-ridden national daily. He nodded, even as he cast uneasy glances toward a group of Japanese out-of-towners at a nearby table. After they left, he explained that they were from one of the big national dailies, and part of a 40-person contingent. By that reckoning, there must have been at least 300 reporters, photographers and so on sent here by Japanese newspapers and TV networks altogether, all ensconced in ad hoc offices at the media centre. I had no press pass so I couldn’t go in, but Mr M had to rush back there, presumably, to keep tab of what everyone else was sending to Japan.

Having to work according to the Japanese news cycle, Mr M and others often couldn’t leave until the wee hours of the morning. I found their most down-to-earth comments in “reporters’ blogs” on newspaper websites. “The volunteers cheerfully greet us ‘good morning” as we walk out of the centre bleary-eyed at 5 a.m., and I wonder if they’re being sarcastic,” one said. A misinterpretation of genuine good will, I would imagine. But I do know from experience how tiring it can be to operate on Japan time when one is in a different country thousands of kilometers away.

One big concern for the Japanese media people was where to find basic sustenance, the food items they’re used to. “I found most of the different brands of instant ramen from home at a Japanese convenience store on Robson Street!” exclaimed one female reporter in her blog. Another was so flabbergasted when a salesclerk in a Robson Street boutique asked her “Nihonjin desuka?” that she did a little photo story on the girl, who turned out to be a Chinese who used to live in Tokyo.

One young sports writer had a shocking experience: Very Dangerous! I Thought He Didn’t Understand Nihongo… was the headline over the account of his eye-opening experience with a “cheerful Oriental guy in his 20s” who was a waiter at a Chinese restaurant he frequented in Whistler Village. On his fourth visit for a dinner of salmon fried rice (which tasted just like in Japan), the waiter was visibly unfriendly. When he eventually came to take the order, he unexpectedly asked “What would you like?” in fluent Japanese. Then the man realized what had upset the waiter. The previous time he was there, he had muttered “It sure took you long enough” in Japanese under his breath, thinking he wouldn’t understand. The reporter later made amends with the waiter, who told him he was born and raised in Japan until age 5 when his family came to Canada. “It’s dangerous to assume Japanese won’t be understood when we are abroad,” the man concluded.

The proverbial ostrich with its head in the sand? Seen from outside, it is surprising how introverted people in Japan can be, even in this global age. They seem blissfully unaware of how pervasive the influence of Japanese culture, even language, has been on both sides of the Pacific Rim and beyond over the last few decades.

If their eyes were turned outward more, they would understand just how much global impact Japanese culture in the broad sense—from sushi, scissors-paper-stone, and karate to Pokemon, Nintendo, J-Pop, Ichiro and Toyota Lexus—is having. Did the Olympics coverage make more Japanese people realize that here, in one of the largest metropolitan/suburban regions on the North American west coast, that influence is microscopically embodied in each one of us who espouse various elements of Japanese culture along with the multi-ethnic Canadian culture at large?

Apart from not having any access to many tastes and amenities of home (something that Japanese living overseas today may take for granted), Japanese immigrants faced many hardships in pre-World War II North America where Asians were second-class citizens. Hopefully, this unforgettable history was also impressed upon more Japanese people during the Games, even if they may not be morally obliged to know.

The daily Yomiuri, for example, told the story of Ms Mary Ohara (long “O”), an 80-year-old Nisei who was interned with some 8,000 other Nikkei Canadians back in 1942 in stables and other buildings next to where Pacific Colosseum, the Olympics venue, now stands. She recalled being rounded up with her family and being taken to these far-from-adequate temporary quarters where they had to spend six months, before being transferred inland. But as her smiling photo shows, she is now a happy Nikkei Canadian who harbors no bitterness, rooting for both Canada and Japan in these Games. She also mentioned increasing inter-marriages between Nikkeijin and other races.

In the way of “sales points” to entice potential immigrants, I thought the strongest was still the Canadian ethos of inherent politeness and consideration for others including foreigners. One Japanese lady reporter said every time someone thanked her for tiny acts of kindness like holding a door open, she felt so good that it made her whole day better. Even one of the occupationally cynical British reporters observed: “Canadians say ‘have a nice day’ and actually mean it!”

I saw an example of this kindness fortified with independent initiative in a volunteer Mr M. and I met at an entrance to the Richmond Oval , the speed skating venue. Mr M wanted to go inside and take some photos, but all that a man in charge of security at the entrance did was to keep repeating “I’ve been instructed not to let the media in today.” Then a young female volunteer nearby, who overheard us, suddenly interjected, saying “I can help you.” What she did was to call a media relations officer inside on her cell phone and ask him to come out and meet us. Because of her initiative, Mr M was able to make a appointment to take photos the following day. She didn’t have to, but she understood we needed help, and decided to do what she could. No “junior” staff would stick his or her neck like that effectively making the security chief “lose face” in a similar situation in Japan, China or Singapore.

I also hope athletes and tourists from Japan and TV viewers in Japan felt the joy of people expressing their unabashed love for Canada in the spectator stands and on the streets—we’ve never heard people breaking out into such hearty reditions of O Canada so spontaneously, so often. In Japan it’s almost impossible to talk about one’s love for one’s country without getting caught up in ideological ramifications of patriotism. Driving around my neighborhood, I never saw so many homes and cars festooned with both the good old Maple Leaf and another national flag, be it Australian, German, Dutch, Greek or even Lithuanian.. In the window of one house along 41st Avenue. I saw a Canadian flag displayed along with Hinomaru, the Japanese flag. When I ducked into a neighborhood pub once to watch a Canadian speed-skater win the gold on the big TV screen, I overheard an old man gush “I LOVE Canada” in a thick foreign (Greek?) accent. A nation of proud immigrants indeed.

Finally, for the answer to the question “What sort of impressions did Japanese visitors and people in Japan get?”, I’d like to quote Daisuke Takahashi, the bronze medal winner in men’s figure skating. The popular skater said: “This is a very liveable city and its scenery is beautiful, so if I’m going to live abroad, it will be in Vancouver.”

I wonder how many people in Japan heard these words?

On attending some of the free events and activities during the Olympics, I was pleased to see many displays of our diversity through featured foods, arts, and music around Vancouver. Many of the musical entertainers here during the Olympics satisfied my love of music and arts. I was also please to see that many of the fine multiethnic restaurants that we have here in Vancouver have done their utmost in appeasing the palettes of all of our guests.

Many Nikkei have shown support for both Canada and Japan during the Games. I think the key is being able to acknowledge the fact that during the Olympics, people from all over the world are able to express emotions of excitement or disappointment, whether it be for a specific athlete or a specific country. Athletes participating here have worked very hard and very long to achieve their goal of representing their country during the 2010 Olympics. All should be recognized for their efforts, whether they receive a medal or not.

I would like to acknowledge the tragic death of Georgian luger Nodar Kumaritashvili, who was killed on Friday February 11 during a final practice run when he lost control of his sled and slammed into a trackside pole at high speed. We were all shocked and saddened by this terrible accident, which forced Olympic organizers to modify the course to reduce the speed and reinforce safety features for the luge course. The GVJCCA joins countless others around the world in offering its condolences to the Kumaritashvili family.

Upcoming on March 20th , at Nikkei Place, the Greater Vancouver Japanese Canadian Citizens’ Association will be holding its Annual General Meeting from 2 – 4 PM at the JCCA office on the second floor. The GVJCCA’s work has always been important in the Nikkei community and having a strong directorship is important in order to meet our mandate. Nominations are still being accepted for our Board of Directors for the upcoming term. The GVJCCA will be seeking individuals who will work within the framework of the Japanese Canadian community and its budgetary confines. I hope you will join us in bringing together a better tomorrow for our children.

Ron Nishimura,
President GVJCCA

Every edition of the Vancouver International Dance Festival has something for everybody, i.e., there is a wide variety of dance expression. But every VIDF also has works by artists who work outside of the focus of mainstream arts. These are the artists that are often the unknown treasures of our programming. In this year’s VIDF, there are two solo dancers, both accompanied by musicians, one from California and one from Denmark, that are well worth checking out. Kitt Johnson from Copenhagen, accompanied by Swedish composer/musician Sture Ericson explores the primordial memory that we carry in our skin and bones as she undergoes a metamorphosis from a formless body to one that we recognize as our own in Rankefod (8pm, March 16-17, Roundhouse). Michael Sakamoto from Los Angeles, accompanied by composer /musician Amy Knoles, also transforms in a kinetic commentary on the sacred and the profance in Sacred Cow (7pm, March 20 & 5pm March 21, Roundhouse). For patrons who enjoyed the butoh performances of Taketeru Kudo and Yoshito Ohno in past festivals, these are two artists that will also take you on memorable journeys.

What compels us to program artists like Kitt Johnson and Michael Sakamoto is that both provide audiences with a journey to follow. Dance is not like movies or plays. There is usually no linear narrative, no complicated plot. Dance is more like experiencing a dream, but a dream driven by the physical and musical poetry of the performers. Rankefod is a journey of transformation where Kitt’s body seems initially a confused jumble of limbs and torso without a head. The body slowly reveals and composes itself and by the piece’s end, we have followed a path of astonishing physical transformation that interacts with the live mixing of Sure Ericson’s computer generated atmospheric ambient sounds.
Michael Sakamoto’s transformations are like constantly changing identities aided by ingenious costume changes where tearing off one layer exposes a new character. Like Rankefod, Sacred Cow is also very much a conversation with a musician. Amy Knoles shares the stage with Michael and creates electronic variations of koto, shakuhachi, tsuzumi, conch shell, and other traditional instruments mixed with contemporary synthesizer textures. Her music energizes and animates Michael’s idiosyncratic popping butoh style to great effect.

Kokoro Dance’s contribution to the VIDF will be a piece entitled L.S.D. (Love, Sex & Death) that will be performed at the Roundhouse at 7pm on March 12th and 13th. This work shares the same title with the offerings of Flamenco Rosario (March 16th and 18th at 7pm) and Out Innerspace (March 17th and 19th at 7pm). Each company will address one or more of these themes which should provide some interesting contrasts from butoh to flamenco to contemporary and how each aesthetic paints a different picture of the same universal experiences. Revisiting the music of Robert J. Rosen and the choreography from 1994’s Dance of the Dead, Kokoro Dance’s version of L.S.D. features Carolyn Chan, Ziyian Kwan, Ellen Luchkow, Molly McDermott, and Jennifer McKinley performing Artistic Director Barbara Bourget’s choreography. Barbara works with motion to create emotion. She subtly alters physical textures and dancers’ relationships. Barbara’s choreography fuses her strong technical ballet training with the more organic sensibilities of butoh. Kokoro’s L.S.D. is performed to a CD recording  of Robert J. Rosen’s music featuring cellist Shauna Rolston, trumpeter Jens Lindeman, pianist/vocalist Adrienne Park, and Robert himself on bowed guitar. In 2011, Flamenco Rosario and Kokoro Dance will premiere a full evening collaboration that will build on these initial 2010 essays and then blend and confuse butoh with flamenco. The 7pm performances at the Roundhouse are free with a $3 VIDF membership. The membership charge is also included in the cost of the tickets to the 8pm performances so patrons can experience two different shows each evening for the price of one. Tickets are available on the VIDF website (http://vidf.ca) or by calling the VIDF Box Office at 604.662.4966.

Recently voted “Best Place to Whip up some Art” in the Georgia Straight reader’s poll, Blim is an independent  community-based art resource center that has been operating for the past seven years out of a small storefront on Main Street. The multi-use space is used for any number of creative activities including screen-printing, button making, drawing, knitting, local underground audio, film screenings, animation, video, dance, spoken word, visual art, creative workshops, and crafts, in fact, just about anything you can think of that fits into the independent, creative field.

Blim has outgrown its current space at 197 east 17th Avenue and is in the process of relocating to a new, larger premises at 115 E Pender, with the grand reopening schedule for May 1.

I spoke with Blim’s founder, Yuriko Iga, via e-mail.

What does Blim mean?
Blim blim was the name of my imaginary animal kingdom when I was four. It was a place where my animals would be immune from pain. I just shortened it to Blim.

What made you start Blim?
I started Blim with  my friend Richard Farand of United Congress.  At the time, Blinding Light and The Sugar Refinery had just shut down, so there was a need for experimental film and music venues.  First Blim was more of this. When we moved to Main Street we became more of a day venue with craft events and retail.

What is Blim’s mandate?
We are a community art space open to artists, and non artists, or just people with creative needs. We are a business with grass roots ideals.  We strive to be a business with integrity and ethical intentions. We’re used by artists, non artists, crafters, non crafters, musicians, non musicians, self employed people, film people, kids, graphic designers, photographers, moms, etc, etc.

You’re moving to a new location in a few months . . .
We need more space. We need to replant Blim in a larger pot so its roots  can expand and grow.  We also want more people to get involved with Blim on an ongoing basis and a larger space would help us achieve this goal.  We’re going to have a big party, some food, my friend Daniel will dj. And hopefully many folks will come out to check out the new space. I’m excited to be back downtown, I look forward to working with Chinatown BIA. And local surrounding art organizations. It will be nice to be in a place with more like minded folk working and being creatively active. I like that we are closer to Japantown too.

You have chosen to operate independently, without government funding – why is that?
I like to be more organic with my business practice. I like to make decisions right away. I don’t have time for extra paper work, I barely have enough time to run Blim. Funding is a full time job separate from running a business, if I sought funding than I would have to change too many things. So we rely solely on retail, workshop, sales and service.

If someone was interested in getting involved in Blim, how do they go about it?
Contact info@blim.ca check out the website www.blim.ca, come visit us, attend and event, volunteer, buy a shirt, have a show, take a workshop, etc, etc.

Blim Art and Craft Facility, 197 East 17th Ave, Vancouver, BC
www.blim.ca

Hours
Monday – Thursday 2:00-10:00pm
Fridays 2:00-6:00pm (except for special events)
Saturdays 12:00 – 6:00pm (except for special events)
Sundays CLOSED

Visual artist Kaori Kasai’s world is populated with whimsical creatures, large-eyed children, and androgynous characters. Her paintings and drawings create short vignettes dealing with friendship, alienation, emotional boundaries and our interactions with our physical environment.

As her own website says, “She creates her own world of eccentric creatures and personalities which bloom into the void: gigantic space dotted with tiny, intimate kinships and spirits bumping into one another, narrating signs of life across a dreamt universe.”

Born in Japan, she graduated from art school in Tokyo before leaving to explore the world. Her works have been exhibited at gallery 1 (Japan), Giant Robot, Little Otsu and SOMARTS (San Francisco), Compound Gallery (Portland) and the Helen Pitt Gallery (Vancouver).

On Thursday, March 4, the Powell Street Festival will launch its 2010 season with an exhibition and residency by Kaori Kasai at Blim.

The exhibition, Kaori Kasai: Ura Monchan, which runs March 4 – 27, is held just ahead of the release of Kasai’s first children’s book, Monchan’s Bag, published by Simply Read Books. Both Ura Monchan and Monchan’s Bag feature the character Monchan, created by Kasai ten years ago as a kind of avatar. Monchan reflects the artist’s struggles of acceptance and sense of self as a landed immigrant in Canada. On the surface, Monchan is the epitome of calmness, but on the inside, Monchan faces emotional turmoil, just like the artist. As part of the residency, Kasai will also curate FLIM night on Friday, March 26, where Kasai’s selection of films and new works produced during her residency at Blim will be presented.

I sat down with Kaori Kasai at Blim on the eve of her exhibition opening and talked about her art, her imaginary friend and her need to keep moving.

In Her Own Words: Kaori Kasai

Who is Monchan?
In 1994, when I was 24 years old, I came to Canada from Tokyo. I always felt frustrated being stuck in a small city on a small island. I wanted to pursue my art, so I came here. Monchan was born on December 26, 1999. I remember clearly, because I felt so isolated at the time. I was living in a little room by myself and suddenly Monchan popped up in my head. Without thinking, I drew this Monchan character on paper, and after I drew it I suddenly felt so happy. I felt this was going to be my longest friend, my closest friend. This main character, Monchan, is my creation, is part of me, like an imaginary friend. Monchan always takes my side, even if I’m wrong. At that time I couldn’t imagine that this was going to be my first book!

Does this sense of isolation come from living in a strange culture and different world, maybe?
Yes, I think so. I have no relatives living in this country and language is a big problem for me. I have close friends here, but I still get frustrated sometimes, using another language. It’s not only language, though, it’s cultural as well. Even when I’m speaking Japanese, I feel uncomfortable because there are some things I can’t communicate through words. I feel like I am bad with language, even Japanese, but I can communicate through my art.

Your first book, Monchan’s Bag, will be published this spring. That must be exciting for you.
From three years old I knew I wanted to be an artist and when I grew up I wanted to write children’s books. There’s a lot of competition—everyone wants to be an artist or a writer, to write children’s books—so it’s very hard. But Simply Read Books found me and I feel so lucky. They are shipping the books from Singapore very soon. It’s been a longtime dream and it’s coming true!

Where does the name Monchan come from?
Mon is a contraction of monster, and chan is the Japanese word we use for children or people we are fond of—so Mon-chan . . . She wears a monster costume because she is very timid and cannot go out by herself. Wearing the monster costume makes her comfortable. She always carries a bag and she can put her favourite things inside—like sweets and cigarettes!

Now I’m getting confused. The book is called Monchan’s Bag, but the exhibition is called Ura Monchan . . .
Omote means front, ura means behind. So Ura Monchan is the story behind the book. Like in DVDs they have special features—the making of the movie. This is like that. Ura Monchan—it is like the reverse side of Monchan.

You say “she”, but Monchan seem quite genderless.
When I was child, I always felt that I shouldn’t have any borders in my mind. I get sad when I think about the millions of borders in this world. People make borders and rules: you’re a woman, you’re a man. Women have to love men. You have dark skin. You came from that country. I am tired of these issues and rules. Sometimes I feel Monchan is a man and sometimes a women . . . or something else! It really doesn’t matter for me.

Much of your work seems to spring from some fantasy world – almost like from a child’s mind . . .
It’s kind of dreamy – when people look at my artwork they think maybe cute, or too cute. Someone said, the characters looks like me.

Does that frustrate you?
Sometimes I get frustrated when people call my art too cute, that my art is for kids. I do art for everyone, especially for adults. When they don’t look deeper, it makes me sad. Cuteness is an outside shell. I hope that people can enjoy the cuteness, but discover more than cuteness underneath. I want to show more depth. Everyone has a evil side. For children’s books I have to create educational, cute characters, but I want to show that things are not only beautiful and cute—that there is another side. If you look at children, they are cute, they look happy, but there is another side to children too, I think.  When you see my prints, the faces and expressions are  calm. This is the Japanese way—we don’t express feelings much. But inside, there are lots of emotions. When I draw, I calm down, the canvas sucks out all my sadness and anger.

On your website you describe yourself as an artist-in-motion. Do you mean that literally or figuratively? You have lived in Japan, San Francisco, Vancouver and Hong Kong.
Even living in my own country, Japan, I felt very uncomfortable, so I left. But when I settle somewhere, I always want to go somewhere else, to move. I always think, Oh, I want to settle, but at the same time, when I do get settled, I want to move—that’s why I move around!

Your book is published under another name, Sleepless Kao. Is that true—do you never sleep?
I go to sleep really late, three or four in the morning. But I get up late too. So I actually do sleep (laughs). People think I don’t sleep, because I often e-mail really late at night, they think I stay up all night.

Beside painting and drawing, you’ve also done other kinds of art – movies and animation . . .
I went to the British Columbia Institute of Technology and studied new media. I learned web development but I didn’t like building websites so I switched to a different field – making movies and animation . . . I worked with a local group, Mimi’s Ami, Miko Hoffmans’ group. I made a promotional video for her song Duet and it was shown at film festivals in New York, San Francisco and San Diego in 2007.

Duet is the story of two girls and now I’m making a children’s book using the same characters. Simply Read Books is interested in making a book so I am working on it, it will be my next book. I made the characters using felt and animated them. I showed it to the publisher and they liked it, but they want to illustrate it using acrylic paint, so I am painting now . . .

I also teach at Arts Umbrella, the children’s art school, teaching computer arts and visual arts.

It’s funny you know, your work reminds me just a little bit of Maurice Sendak. When I look at them side by side, they are very different, but still, there is something there that is similar . . .
(laughs). Yes – everybody tells me that! But I never heard of him before . . . when I moved to North America, everybody asked me, “do you know Maurice Sendak?” And then this year they made a movie from his book . . .

Have you seen it?
No. (laughs) Not yet. I’m a little bit scared . . .

Are there artists that influence your art?
Not really. I always get inspired when I have a sanpo (little walk). When I paint I need a good calm song.

How do you see your art progressing, now that your first book is being published?
I want to make more children’s books. Right now, Monchan’s Bag is a three-book series. I’m working on the next book, plus the book Duet. Every year I want to create one or two books, and maybe export to other countries like Japan, Europe . . .

I make children’s books and I do this kind of exhibition because I want to show all sides of my art. When you make a book, there are so many people involved. The cover says Sleepless Kao, but sometimes I feel this is not really my product . . . Ura Monchan is my art work, 100%. Even if people don’t like it, I can hear people’s voice directly and get their feedback. That’s why I like doing exhibitions.

So you are an artist-on-the-move, but you have been living in Vancouver for a while now. Where do you feel most at home?
Anywhere near water. I grew up in a small town in Japan. There is the ocean and Mt. Fuji. The feeling  is similar to Vancouver.

Kaori Kasai: Ura Monchan
March 4 – 27, Blim
197 17th East Avenue, Vancouver
Phone 604 872 8180

FLIM night
Friday, March 26
Kasai’s selection of films and new works produced
during her residency at BLIM will be presented.
Entry fee: sliding scale of $7 – $10.
Hula Girls (2006) – Directed by Sang-Il Lee.
Written by Sang-Il Lee & Daisuke Habara
Hula Girls is an award-winning Japanese film based on the real-life story of how a group of enthusiastic girls hula dance to save  their small mining village, Iwaki, helping to establish one of Japan’s most popular theme parks, Joban Hawaiian Centre. It may not look like it, but Hula Girls was a deserving winner at the Japan Academy Awards.
Blimited: Limited Edition Screenprinted shirt by Kaori Kasai available at Blim for month of March.
More information at www.powellstreetfestival.com. Follow on Twitter @ twitter.com/powellstfest

www.blim.ca
www.kaorikasai.com    sleepless-kao.blogspot.com