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Carnegie Hall Chinese Music Festival: A Welcome Surprise!

To the delight of its executive and artistic director, Clive Gillinson, Carnegie Hall’s three-week Chinese music festival is a surprise.¹  So writes New York Times critic, James Oestreich, in his column today.  He explains why:

Mr. Gillinson is quick to acknowledge that Chinese music, in any traditional sense, is almost antithetical to the traditional Carnegie concert format. At least until the mid-20th century, music in China was seldom seen as something to be presented on a proscenium stage and contemplated in isolation by sedentary, silent listeners. It was often a part of daily life, if not integral to the performance of a particular activity or ritual then as background for socialization. And when it did rise to the level of artistic aspiration, it was typically part of a larger catchall form, as in Chinese opera, which includes not only music, drama, dance, costuming and décor but also acrobatics and martial arts.

Aptly dubbed “Ancient Paths, Modern Voices: Celebrating Chinese Culture”, the festival which runs from Oct. 21 to Nov. 10 seeks to explore both “the hunger for Western works, as well as ‘real’ Chinese music.”² 

Ancient Paths, Modern Voices: A Festival Celebrating Chinese Culture pays tribute to a vibrant culture and its influence around the globe with 21 days of events and exhibitions at Carnegie Hall and partner institutions throughout New York City. It features leading Chinese musicians, including artists and ensembles traveling outside of China for the first time, performing myriad genres of music. This festival also includes traditional marionette theater, dance, exhibitions, and much more—a true immersion into a world that mixes ancient and modern, familiar and new.

The festival itself is happening beyond the confines of the Carnegie Hall premises seeking perhaps to stretch beyond the realm of music itself.  Take for example, Mingmei Yip’s performance of both qin music and calligraphy at the China Institute on October 22nd.³

The aesthetics shared by qin musicians and Chinese calligraphers are discussed and demonstrated. The linear quality of calligraphy and the melodic lines of the qin (seven-stringed zither) embody the interplay between yin and yang, sound and space. The ancient Chinese philosophy of nurturing life and the quest for longevity by harnessing breath and qi (chi) are aspired to through qin playing and calligraphic brush strokes.

Indeed, the festival is a welcome surprise not only for its antithetical content but also its more open approach.  As Mr. Ostereich writes, “If Chinese music has opened up in recent decades, so has Carnegie Hall, particularly in Mr. Gillinson’s festivals, which have been studiedly multidisciplinary and multi-institutional.”

¹James R. Oestreich, “A Path to China, Through Carnegie Hall”, The New York Times, Oct. 11, 2009
²carnegiehall.org
³chinainstitute.org

Asian American Art. Washington DC. This Weekend. Free.

Visit the Freer and Sackler Galleries at 1050 Independence Ave. SW. For more info, call (202) 633-1000 or go to http://www.asia.si.edu.  Two picks:

Moving Perspectives:  Shahzia Sikander / Sun Xun
Date:  July 18-November 8, 2009, 10 am to 5:30 pm
Categories:  Transforming paper and canvas to the video screen
Venue:  Arthur M. Sackler Gallery
Cost:  Free
Details: Trained in Pakistan and in the United States, Shahzia Sikander (b. 1969, Lahore, Pakistan) deftly reinterprets miniature painting by isolating and abstracting formal compositional elements often found in this densely layered and intricate art form. The dynamism of her paintings is set in motion in her video works, where the repetition of abstract forms becomes a buzzing hive, calligraphy whirls in and out of view, and imaginary curves morph into vivid landscapes. Similarly, Sun Xun (b. 1980, Fuxin, China) creates hundreds of paintings and drawings by using old newspapers or entire blank walls. Filming his hand-drawn images, he transforms clocks, magicians, words, and insects into animated symbols that flicker across the screen in dark allegories on the nature of historical consciousness and the passage of time.

You Don’t Know Jack: The Jack Soo Story (2009 DC Asian Pacific American Film Festival)
Date:  Saturday, October 10, 2009, 2 pm
Categories:  Films
Venue:  Freer Gallery
Event Location:  Meyer Auditorium
Cost:  Free; first come, first served
Details: Featuring rare footage and interviews with co-stars and friends, including actors George Takei, Nancy Kwan, and Max Gail, comedians Steve Landesberg and Gary Austin, and producer Hal Kanter, this film by Jeff Adachi traces Jack Soo’s early beginnings as a nightclub singer and comedian to his breakthrough role as Sammy Fong in Rogers and Hammerstein’s Broadway play and the film version of The Flower Drum Song. The film also explores why Soo, a former internee who was actually born Goro Suzuki, was forced to change his name in the post-WWII era in order to perform in clubs in the Midwest. Due to his experiences, Soo refused to play film and television roles that were demeaning to Asian Americans, and he often spoke out against negative ethnic portrayals. United States / 2009 / 60 min. / English / video

Three things I didn’t know about Jack, among others: one, first Asian to be cast as a regular in a TV series; two, first non-African American to be signed to Motown Records, and; three, first male artist to record "For Once in My Life".

Below is a video clip of filmmaker Jeff Adachi: 

Muslim Punk: Through Kim Badawi's Lens

Photographer and journalist Kim Badawi's photographs from his book “The Taqwacores: Muslim Punk in the U.S.A." are currently on display at powerHouse Books¹ in Brooklyn, NY. The author will be on hand this Saturday to talk about the Muslim punk scene that has emerged since he first imagined it in an earlier novel he wrote.²

The film clip below features the very band members whom Mr. Badawi have inspired to start a Muslim punk movement. One motivation was to channel inner conflicts related to growing up Muslim in America. Basim Usmani, a Pakistan American and member of the punk band "The Kominas" spells that out succinctly.

Both my parents are Pakistani but both have very firm ideas of what they like wanted me to be like when i was growing up. They want their kids to do well in school, be part of the Math team, go to MIT, and become doctors. And, I wasn't having any of it because it just wasn't who I was.

The same motivation may have been what led Mr. Badawi to punk rock, to write about it and now to share his photographs of the very movement that he inspired.

I think it's just the sense that being American somehow makes you less Muslim, and being Muslim somehow makes you less American. So it’s just on the margins of the margins of the margins. Punk gave me the courage to be a Muslim, and I think in America today. Being Muslim itself is very punk rock, y’know.

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

1powerhousebooks.com
2Nida Najar, “Taqwacore Documented: Images of Muslim American Punk”, The New York Times, Oct. 2, 2009

Festival Highlights All Asian American Chekov Comedy

In pursuit of advancing the field of Asian American theater via a national network of organizations and artists, the Consortium of Asian American Theaters & Artists (CAATA)* is hosting its second National Asian American Theater Festival¹ in New York City from October 13-18, 2009. All performance will be held at the Theater for the New City² except for ‘Imelda’, which takes place at the Julia Miles Theater³. ‘The Seagull’ and ‘Imelda’ play throughout the week of the festival, and performances are scheduled for Shishir Kulup’s ‘Sharif Don’t Like It’ and Sheetal Gandhi’s ‘Bahu-Beti-Biwi’. In addition, the festival calendar includes panel discussions, readings and workshops, plus an opening night party.

Anton Chekov’s comedy ‘The Seagull’ is presented by the National Asian American Theater Company⁴ featuring an all Asian American cast, living up to its broad mission of asserting the presence and significance of Asian American theatre in the United States and demonstrating its vital contributions to the fabric of American culture.

‘Bahu-Beti-Biwi’ is a dance-theater solo created and performed by Sheetal Gandhi. Below is a video clip taken from her previous performance.

Bahu-Beti-Biwi (Daughter-in-law, Daughter, Wife) (2008) from Sheetal Gandhi on Vimeo.

*Forming a consortium is a really good idea! I wish that other Asian American organizations would follow the CAATA’s lead on this. I wish them great success in their upcoming festival and other future projects. For tickets or more information, go to naatlf.org.

1 naatf.org
2 theaterforthenewcity.net
3 womensproject.org
4 naatco.org

(See related post, "Imelda: The Musical".)

'Two Stage Sisters': Xie Jin’s 1965 Drama in 2009 NYFF

The New York Film Festival¹ opened yesterday at the Lincoln Center offering a wide variety of films in exhibition including a handful from Asia:

Independencia
Raya Martin, 2009, Philippines/France/Germany/Netherlands, 77m
Sun. Oct. 4: 3PM

Mother
Bong Joon-Ho, 2009, South Korea, 129m
Fri. Oct. 9: 6 | Sat. Oct. 10: NOON

Kanikosen
Sabu, 2009, Japan, 109m
Sun. Sep. 27: 11:30AM | Mon. Sep. 28: 6PM

Ghost Town
Zhao Dayong, 2008, China, 169m
Sun. Sep. 27: 2:15PM

Crossroads of Youth
An Jong-hwa, 1934, Korea, 74m
Sat. Oct. 3: 11AM

In conjunction with the film festival is “Masterworks: (Re)Inventing China A New Cinema for a New Society, 1949-1966”, a series of 20 films from China released at the time between the Communist victory and the start of the Cultural Revolution.

In his column today in the New York Times, Mike Hale focuses on the main attraction of the series, Two Stage Sisters (Wutai Jiemei).²

Some of the films available for preview were as heavy-handed as you might expect of work made under rigid state control. But “Two Stage Sisters,” which is being shown on Saturday and on Oct. 6, is unexpectedly fluid and subtle, with emotions that ring true. It’s also a sweeping, ambitious narrative that moves from the provinces to the theater district of Shanghai and back again. Some cramped staging may reflect a lack of resources, but Mr. Xie’s technical assurance and the overall level of the acting are the equal of at least a modest Hollywood drama of the 1950s or ’60s.

While the 1965 film is laced with latent Communist propaganda, the Cultural Revolution landed filmmaker Xie Jin in jail and his film was banned for its "bourgeois" content.  That by itself makes it worth seeing, and how artistic expression has survived the political turmoil and pressures of that time.

¹The Film Society of Lincoln Center
²Mike Hale, “Two ‘Sisters’ From Time of Mao Star Again”, The New York Times, Sept. 26, 2009

Japanese American Resettlement: Blending back into the mainstream

The Natural Museum of American History¹ in Washington D.C. hosts the presentation of Lane Ryo Hirabayashi’s latest book, “Japanese American Resettlement through the Lens”, this Saturday, September 19, 2009 at 2 p.m.

The book features the unique collection of the only surviving full-time War Relocation Authority photographer Hikaru Carl Iwasaki, who was one of many Japanese Americans imprisoned at camps during World War II.  What is particularly interesting is that the collection delves on the efforts of Japanese Americans to blend back into mainstream American society.

It promises to be a very interesting presentation.  What’s more, other distinguished personalities will be there.  Dr. Franklin Odo, Director of the Smithsonian Asian Pacific American Program², will be moderating the Q&A session that follows. Rep. Mike Honda³ (D-CA) will also grace the affair.

¹http://www.amnh.org/
²http://apa.si.edu/
³http://honda.house.gov/

A Muslim American Drama: To heal and bring us together!

"Art can heal and art can be a bridge that brings cultures together", says Wajahat Ali, a Pakistani American playwright, in a recent TV interview about his play entitled "The Domestic Crusaders."

In her NY Times column, Laurie Goodstein does a good job describing the background and theme of Wajahat’s play. It seems as far-reaching in its goals as its content is deeply personal, culled directly from the playwright’s own family drama.¹

Very few dramas about the contemporary Muslim experience in America have made it to the stage. Muslims from Pakistan, India and Bangladesh have been slow to embrace writing and acting, which was not considered a viable profession by the older immigrant generation. Mr. Ali and the actors in “The Domestic Crusaders” are among a younger group interested in mining their experiences for theater. These are dramas not about terrorism or war, but about the cultural cacophony that ensues when you drop three generations of a Pakistani family into Silicon Valley.

Hopefully, his play which opened last Friday, September 11, at the Nuyorican Poets Café² in New York City, does some healing especially of the virulence that still pervades among us and brings together families caught in a similar cultural cross-fire.

¹Laurie Goodstein, "A Pakistani-American Family Is Caught in Some Cultural Cross-Fire", New York Times
²Nuyorican Poets Café, New York City

Imelda: The Musical

The Pan Asian Repertory Theater has a lofty mission statement including introducing Asian American theatre to the “differently-abled”. But not quite as lofty as their current project—to stage a musical about Imelda Marcos! Slated for a September 22 opening at the Julia Miles Theater in New York City, this project has the necessary elements for success given the esoteric appeal of the Imelda character.

Few have come close to capture the elusive mystic that surrounds Imelda. A source, requesting anonymity, volunteers this tidbit of information after rare close encounters with Imelda in his neighborhood.

"The neighborhood buzz was that she was using Doris Duke's apartment in the relatively new Dag Hammarskjold Plaza building. I used to see her shopping at the greengrocer's stand across Second Avenue, her bodyguard in attendance; and when I took up the collection during mass at the local Catholic church, she was a steady contributor. I was struck by her height—she was much taller and more beautiful than she appeared on television—and her immaculate, elegant style. Although I was never one of her admirers, I thought that she was a stunning woman to look at: flawless skin; luxuriant, glossy dark hair; and, a rather vacant gaze."

Attempts to portray her beyond-skin-deep character proliferated in media especially during fraud and racketeering charges were brought before her in Manhattan’s Federal Court— a helpless victim, a ruthless conspirator, a crazy woman, among others. Not one sticks to me; perhaps all is true.

New York City could not have been a more fitting stage to purse such attempts to scrutinize her up-close. The first wife of foreign head of state to stand in court in the U.S., Imelda was not repulsed by the theatrical spotlight; in fact, she seemed to have reveled in it. The trial itself included celebrities including Doris Duke who reputedly posted her $5 million bail, George Hamilton who posed as “star” witness to her defense, and—who can forget the antics of—her defense attorney Gerry Spence. Following her acquittal, Imelda’s encore was “shuffling up the aisle of New York City's St. Patrick's Cathedral on her (padded) knees, clutching a rosary and praying”. Bravo!

Perhaps, beyond the thousand pairs of shoes, the lavish shopping sprees, and the extravagant galas associated with Imelda, the Pan Asian Repertory production would look further inside her self. A conniving partner to a crime wrought upon an entire nation? A lobotomized shell that is running on autopilot following a nervous breakdown? A survivor coping with an historic twist of fate? An innocent victim who only wanted wealth, fortune and fame but sans the necessary curse that comes with the pact her husband signed in her behalf? An enchanting diva who will haunt us forever, regardless.

Kudos to the Pan Asian Repertory for taking on this brave project! I wish them success and hope it turns out to be more than just, as Simon Cowell would say, a “karaoke” act. Here’s a video the theater released to promote this musical. It’s rather lengthy and choppy, but interesting notwithstanding.

Ben Steele Sketches Our Dark History

In their article, “Witness to Bataan”, Michael Norman and Elizabeth M. Norman of the American Heritage Magazine recount the horrifying experiences of Ben Steele surviving the infamous death march in Bataan.

In his first face-to-face encounter with his captors, Steele sensed the feelings of hate that the Japanese soldiers exuded.  Yet, in his first close encounters with death itself, he felt it would serve him better to just remain aloof.  “So many were dropping to the road, he thought, it was better not to get close to anyone.”  But Steele’s humanity could not easily be removed; he did not leave a fallen soldier even though he himself was wounded.

Following months of hard labor, and the death of one in three men in his work detail, Steele and the other ailing survivors were shipped to a makeshift hospital.  There, a chaplain administered him last rites as he again faced death this time battling various afflictions, including malaria, beriberi, bronchial pneumonia, dysentery, jaundice, and liver infection.   The writers described his tenuous grip on life at that time, “Some days he knew he was alive; some days not.”

After his condition turned around, Steele still remained on the brink.  “I’d better do something or I’ll go crazy.”  He began scratching figures on the floor then eventually sketched pictures in paper.  The object of his sketches would be the images of his comrades and his captors.  Through the final chapters of his internment in the labor camps in Japan, Steele continued to document via his sketches the many ordeals he would witness and endure.

The authors’ rendition of Steele’s story is a befitting tribute to the army private’s will to survive and his continued hope of achieving freedom.  Perhaps in sharing his personal accounts with his family and loved ones, Steele also discloses the complex confluence of emotions that still stir him to this very day.  Perhaps his sketches are sufficient enough.  Words do sometimes get in the way.  But with regards Michael and Elizabeth, their words make us reflect on the thin balance that binds and separates us all.  We remember the past to live the present with greater hope on what lies ahead.

Before Goku

The Asian American Writers’ Workshop hosted yesterday The First Annual Asian American ComiCon at the Museum of Chinese in America in New York City.  The event celebrated “the unique contemporary role and historical legacy of Asian American comic artists, featuring the writers and editors of ‘Secret Identities’, the first-ever graphic novel anthology of Asian American superhero stories.”

In her Wall Street Journal blog, Christina Jeng interviewed Incredible Hulk writer Greg Pak.  He talked about “why Asian-American teens don’t identify with Asian heroes in comic books.”  I would think Goku is popular enough among the younger generation.  Regardless, long before comic characters of Asian—or, for that matter, other ethnic—background was in the vogue, Asian Americans already played a significant role in the anime world.

One such front-runner in the field was Iwao Takamoto.  At the end of World War II, Mr. Takamoto first worked for Disney as an assistant; it was there that he would contribute as animator to now classic hits—Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, etc.  He eventually assumed a VP role for Creative Design at Hanna-Barbera overseeing similarly enduring comic masterpieces such as X-Men.  At the height of his career, the Animation Guild would vest in him the Golden Award for fifty years of outstanding contributions to the field.

 Apart from the mark he left in the industry, Iwao also led a rich and interesting life as chronicled in his biography “Iwao Takamoto:  My Life with a Thousand Characters”.  Surely, Iwao would be proud of how Asian Americans have reached new grounds following his footsteps and find hope and comfort with Asian American superheroes emerging from wartime internment.

Undressing

A recent NY Times article has prompted me to see “The Seen and the Hidden: [Dis]Covering the Veil” at the Austrian Cultural Forum.  The exhibit features a collection of contemporary artwork about women donning the veil, especially though not exclusively in the context of Muslim faith.

In Deborah Sontag’s article, “The Intersection of Islam, America and Identity” (June 7, 2009), the author focuses on two artists based in the New York area—one with origins from Pakistani, Asma Ahmed Shikoh, and the other from Iran, Negar Ahkami.  The works of these two Asian Americans reveal issues of identity in deeper layers than what I would have imagined before my bare eyes touched them last week.  The forum’s official description brushes the surface, “The donning of the veil conveys conflicting ideas of faith, sexuality and public life and thus raises a host of questions and tensions between religion and identity.”

Miss Sontag writes about the parallel progression of the two artists’ personal lives and their art with their coming to America.  It is a very touching narrative that prompts one to wonder about how the stories of other women enfold here and overseas.  President Obama’s landmark speech in Cairo “at a time of tension between the United States and Muslims around the world” encourages a wider a conversation addressing the many issues, including our policy “to protect the right of women and girls to wear the hijab, and to punish those who would deny it.”

There are also parallel perspectives from the 15 artists in the exhibition.  In Negar Ahkami’s “Persian Dolls”, eight nesting dolls are each painted to reflect the progression of a woman’s image from the stern-faced outer doll clad in black chador to the smiling unclad inner one.  (Interestingly enough, a photograph of the artwork in the forum’s official pamphlet shows—perhaps, a different version—only five dolls of which the inner doll is not completely naked but, in fact, draped partly by the American flag.)

It is difficult not to liken Miss Ahkami’s artwork to that of another exhibitor, Nilbar Güres, a Turkish Austrian.  Her video entitled “Undressing” shows a woman (Soyunma) gradually removing different layers of veil each owned by, or representing, female relatives.  Heavy tension is obviously laden with the initial shot where all layers of covering are still intact.  Upon the removal of the last veil that is preceded by a rather tentative pause, a genuine smile of relief and joy is finally revealed.

Like Miss Ahkami’s dolls which can also be viewed from right (inner) to left (outer doll), Miss Güres’ video can technically be played back in reverse order.  In many parts of the world, the rights of women still tread a backward track.  The veil itself is still a stinging symbol of oppression that can only be reclaimed over time.  Time alone is not enough.  We need more un-tethered discussions especially in societies where women’s rights are still trampled upon and even criminalized.  In freer societies, I deeply respect the women who decide to don the veil as a proud assertion of their beliefs and their freedoms.  However, they carry the burden of illuminating others of all the ills the wearing of the veil still represents to a vast number of women worldwide.

1 + 1 = 3

Not long after a “Kumbaya” moment in Washington, the New York Times editorial today awakens our attention to bad spirits and reiterates our need to be continuously vigilant against the scour of right-wing nativism.  I accept that racism may never be completely exorcised for so long as opposing factions continue battle.  In that, I ascribe to our president’s crusade in full cry for hope.

Just the day before this editorial came out, the same publication carried Holland Cotter’s review of an art exhibit running currently at the Guggenheim Museum.  Aptly titled "The Third Mind", the show features what appears to be a cacophony of American art pieces (1860-1989) which suggest Asian influence.  The author could not have chosen a better example of an artwork that exemplifies the theme than Jackson Pollock’s "Untitled [Red Painting 1-7]".  Seven images unfold a meld caught between the Abstract Expressionism and Asian calligraphy.

Once in a while, when our nation contemplates in a still of solemn oneness, our soul is at peace.  But it remains a tenuous peace.  Unlike the expression of art, there is no convergence offered.  Opposing spirits collide yet again until another glorious respite—or, in the spirit of hope, until racism is cast into abyss.