art - Tabula Sarasara

November 29, 2020April 2, 2023

Visualizing data without misleading or stereotyping

Introduction:

In the wake of the presidential elections that revealed a nation that remains highly divided, this bilingual post explores how we might visualize data in a way that doesn’t mislead audiences or stereotype different types of people.

今月初めに行われた大統領選挙では、米国でまだまだ分断が続いていることが明らかになりました。この投稿は、誤解を招かず、ステレオタイプを強化しない形でいかにデータを可視化できるかについて模索しています。英語の本文の後に日本語が続きます。

Earlier this month, we witnessed one of the most dramatic presidential elections in history. These past four years, the U.S. had been unrecognizable to me. As a woman, quasi-immigrant, and minority, I felt that I was unwelcome on all three counts. I was in a state of disbelief as racist remarks and actions were normalized, and many laws that I had been proud to associate with the U.S. were rolled back one by one.

It is a huge relief to have a national leader who seems rational, calm, and mindful of the growing diversity of the U.S. demographic. I am ecstatic that we now have the first woman vice president–who also happens to be Black, Asian, and the daughter of an immigrant. That fact alone allays my concerns about criticism over the president-elect’s treatment of women.

A Divided Country

But as we all know, this was no swift victory. The “blue wave” touted by pundits never came. Instead, we had a handful of swing states that flipped, one by one, from slightly red to barely blue over the course of four days. I kept taking screenshots of the close race (at one point a difference of 1,000 votes, or less than 0.1%!) and sending it to friends. I pored over the news analyzing the developments in each state, from which counties’ votes were being counted first, to why Nevada seemed to take its sweet time, to legendary figures like Stacey Abrams and the late John McCain affecting the outcome in Georgia and Arizona.

The state of the swing states as of the morning of Nov. 6. With 99% of votes reported, Georgia had a difference of 1,000 votes, or less than 0.1%. Screenshot from Google based on results compiled by the Associated Press.

Maps

With all the election results readily available online, it has been really fascinating to be able to zoom into any state and look at the results in each county. Maps like this one (for Virginia) show islands of blue cities in a sea of red.

Election results by county in Virginia. Screenshot from Google based on results compiled by the AP.

But this year, the way maps show election data seemed to undergo an important and fascinating shift. With the slogan “Land doesn’t vote; people do,” several maps came out to show votes in proportional circles based on how people voted in each county, as opposed to coloring in the entire area of each county. Since fewer people live in rural areas, this was a much more accurate representation. Based on how much recognition these newer maps received, I suspect future elections will be represented in this way.

Either way, the fact remains that we are a deeply divided country, mostly reflecting whether we live in urban or rural areas. So how do we heal as a nation? One way, I think, is to avoid stereotyping others as much as we can.

Visualizations that Reinforce Stereotypes

The below illustration is called “What it means to be a typical Democrat or Republican, based on everyday items.” A translation of the words that appear throughout the illustration are in the chart below (all translations are my own).

From this website of The Asahi Shimbun. I added the numbers in purple for the translations provided below.

Democrats		Republicans
Prius; Volvo	❶ Cars	Hummer; Porsche
MSNBC	➋ TV stations	FOX
Comedy; Romance	❸ Movies	War; Action
Jazz; Rap	❹ Music	Country
Tennis; Soccer	❺ Sports	Rodeo; Motor Races
Women: Silky smooth; Men: Long with beards	❻ Hairstyle	Women: Voluminous; Men: Short and neat
Casual	❼ Attire	Business Suits
Sushi; Vegetarian	❽ Food	Fried Chicken; BBQ
Starbucks	❾ Beverages	Coors Beer

This was apparently first published in The Asahi Shimbun about 10 years ago. It came up on its website this past March (with the explanation that “trends have not changed that much since then”) as part of an article that helps young job applicants / recent college graduates understand current events.

When I first saw this, I couldn’t help but laugh. It’s wonderful that Japanese audiences are paying close attention to the U.S. elections. I think visuals are very important, especially to a younger audience. But I also think we need to be careful not to generalize too much–precisely because we are shaping young minds.

To start with the basics, the data comes from mixed sources. This illustration is apparently based on “data from advertising and research firms, as well as the voices of American voters.” That’s at least three sources that probably use different methodologies, samples, dates, and collection methods. While I don’t expect the entire methodology to be part of the picture, I’d at least like to know the names of the companies that collected this data.

The illustration is full of points I want to ask more about. For example (and I am also making big generalizations here), the “Republican” category seems to combine several types of people: the military type (short, neat hair), the wealthy type (Porsches), people living in rural areas (fried chicken; country music), etc. More minor examples show weird combinations too, like Starbucks (likely coffee) with sushi for Democrats. It is very confusing because all these mixed data is illustrated in the same picture.

And while the variety in music tastes and hairstyle is certainly interesting, I don’t see how it makes a big difference. The only thing I thought was truly relevant here is the type of media consumed (FOX vs. MSNBC), which other sources also indicate. I would rather know about the difference in opinion on topics like education, immigration, and religion. And, at least in terms of food, there’s evidence that we can’t associate them with political thought: The New York Times recently published a quiz asking readers to look at photos of fridge contents and guess whether they belong to a Trump supporter or Biden supporter. As of today, readers have made 25 million (!) guesses, and were correct 52% of the time–it’s 50/50, even with that huge sample.

Caricatures

To me, the most egregious point that could be corrected is that all four people depicted here are white. According to data compiled by the Pew Research Center, as of 2019, 40% of registered Democrats were non-white (even back in 2010, when this illustration was made, it probably would have been more than 36% (2008)). The Democratic party clearly states that “diversity is a strength,” and its support for immigrants and minorities is clear. So it seems especially odd to represent 100% of the Democrats here as white people.

But I also see how it’s extremely hard to visualize people “correctly.” Take, for example, the controversial NHK video that attempted to explain the BLM movement in June. If Black people or other minorities were added to the Asahi Shimbun visualization of Democrats and Republicans, would it have made things better? I doubt it, because it’s hard to illustrate someone without resorting to caricatures, especially if you do not know them well.

A screenshot (from here) of the controversial NHK video that illustrated Black people who wore tank tops and Afros, lighting the city on fire, and saying that they were resorting to violence because they were angry about the income gap (with no mention of police brutality)

And the truth of the matter is that there’s an inherent difference in illustrating someone who is already in the majority versus someone who is not. The former has already been drawn in many different ways, and one additional illustration is just that–a collection to add to many different images that readers may have in their head. It won’t skew the audience’s minds in either direction. Someone who is rarely drawn, on the other hand, automatically becomes a representative of their entire group because they are rarely seen. It’s similar to how movie characters used to be caricatures. The token Asian characters in older films were stereotypes (Mr. Yunioshi in Breakfast at Tiffany’s or Long Duk Dong in Sixteen Candles), whereas now we are seeing diverse backgrounds and personalities (from Crazy Rich Asians to The Farewell) because there are more films and more characters.

Visualizing Content in Better Ways

A lot of the data in the Asahi Shimbun illustration is interesting, even if not necessarily relevant. I think this could be improved by 1) listing its sources by name, 2) not showing people in the illustrations, and 3) instead of showing the top one or two in the same big picture, perhaps choosing the top five in each category and turning them into separate charts. Illustrations are so powerful, helping us understand and remember things better–but without the full context, they can also be misleading.

Media have to work with quick deadlines, and it’s easy for me to be an armchair critic. But as people pointed out with the BLM video, I believe there are ways to find consultants. On a deeper level, I believe we all need to have a better understanding of each other, so that we don’t stereotype others, and know when we are about to create caricatures.

These take long conversations, better education, more reading, stronger media representation, and so much more. But to circle back to the original discussion, at least we know that we are politically divided. At least we are beginning to learn, in the past six months, how much pain Black people have been experiencing. I hope that we can strive to understand each other. After this election, the only direction to go is onwards and upwards.

ステレオタイプを強化しない形で情報を可視化するには

今回の大統領選挙では、大好きな米国がようやく少し戻ってきた気がします。2016年の選挙以降、移民、日系人、そして女性として、ずっと緊張や不安を抱えてきました。国のリーダーがアジア人に差別的な言葉を使ったり、移民に対する大統領命令を発したり、女性蔑視の発言をするたび、心身ともに疲弊し、いつも少し怯えながら過ごす日々でした。今回、バイデンが大統領となって心から安堵しましたし、初の女性・黒人・アジア系の副大統領が誕生したことを、本当に誇りに思います。

ただ、選挙の結果を見て、国の分断がまだこんなにもひどいことに驚いたのも事実です。スイングステート（激戦州）では、最終的に民主党が勝ったところが多いものの、一時期は数千票、0.1%以下の僅差だったりもして、結果が分かるまでの数日間は本当にやきもきしました。地図を見ても、驚くくらい、都市部と田舎とで政党が真っ二つに分かれています。これからこの分断をどう乗り越えていくかが大きな課題となります。

ステレオタイプを強化する恐れのあるイラスト

そんな時にたまたま、上記の「身近な品々に見る『民主らしさ』『共和っぽさ』」というイラストを友人が送ってくれました。もとは10年前に朝日新聞に掲載されたのが、最近になって「今でも傾向は変わらない」と言う解説とともに浮上したようです。

これを最初に見た時、ツッコミどころが多くて笑ってしまいました。興味深い視点ですし、分かりやすく可視化している姿勢が素晴らしいと思います。でも、可視化するからこその危険性も多分にあると思います。

まず、情報源は「広告会社と調査会社のデータおよび米有権者の声」とありますが、そうすると、少なくとも3つの情報源から得たデータとなり、それぞれ異なるサンプル、日程、調査方法であると想定されます。それをすべて一つの絵にまとめていること自体少し不思議だと思いますが、そうであれば、少なくとも広告会社や調査会社の名前を掲載した方がよいかと思います。

細かい点を見ますと、たとえば「共和党支持層」は、いろいろなタイプの人たちが混じっているように見えます。それこそステレオタイプに基づいて例を挙げると、軍人（「整えた短髪」）、富裕層（「ポルシェ」）、田舎に住む人（「フライドチキン」「カントリー」）がすべて一緒になっています。民主党の方でも、スターバックス（のおそらくコーヒー）を寿司と飲む、という不思議な構図になっています。これも、いろいろな情報源から集めたデータが同じ絵にあるから違和感があるのかと思います。

共和党・民主党支持者が視聴するメディア（「TV局」）はとても重要であり、FOXとMSNBCが両極端にあることは他でも立証されていますが、映画や音楽など、それ以外の点に関しては、それほど重要だとも思えません。むしろ、教育や移民政策、宗教等に関する考えを取り上げた方が興味深い気がします。さらには、少なくとも食べものに関しては、政党との関連性が低いことが分かっています。最近ニューヨーク・タイムズ紙は、冷蔵庫の中身の写真を見て、トランプ支持者かバイデン支持者のものかを読者が当ててみるというクイズを発行しました。現時点で読者は2500万回（！）推測してきましたが、正解率は52%。それだけ巨大なサンプルでも、まだ五分五分なのです。

人物のステレオタイプ

私が最も残念だと思うのは、この絵に描かれている人が4人とも白人だということです。2019年の時点で、登録している民主党支持者のうち、40%が非白人でした（このイラストが描かれた2010年でも、36%（2008年）以上だったと思われます）。また、民主党は「多様性は強みである」と明言しており、移民やマイノリティを支持していることも明らかです。したがって、民主党支持者の100%が白人として描かれているのは残念なことだと思います。

同時に、「正しい」形で人を可視化するのは大変難しいことです。6月にBLM運動を動画にし、物議を醸したNHKのビデオがよい例だと思います。黒人や他のマイノリティをこの朝日新聞の民主党・共和党のイラストに入れたところで、状況は改善しなかったかもしれません。あまりなじみがない人たちを可視化しようとすると、ステレオタイプに基づいた滑稽な絵になってしまいがちです。

多数派の人とそうでない人を描くことには、本質的な違いがあります。前者は既にいろいろな場で、様々な形で描かれており、一枚の新しいイラストは、読者の頭にあるイメージのコレクションに足されるだけであり、これまでの印象を大きく変えるわけではありません。一方、めったに描かれない人は、その人が所属するグループ全員を代表するような形になってしまいます。これは、映画の登場人物にも言えることだと思います。古いアメリカ映画のアジア系の登場人物は、ひどいステレオタイプに基づいていましたが（『ティファニーで朝食を』のユニオシ氏、『すてきな片思いの』ロンなど）、最近はアジアを中心とした映画や登場人物が増えてきているおかげで、多様な背景や個性が描かれています（『クレイジー・リッチ』や『フェアウェル』など）。

より良い形での可視化

朝日新聞のイラストには、興味深いデータが満載です。もし改善するとしたら、1）情報源の会社名を明記し、２）人物は描かず、３）上位1~2位だけを同じ絵の一部として描くのではなく、たとえば各カテゴリーのトップ5などを別々の表にして出す、といったことができると思います。イラストは、物事を理解し記憶する上で素晴らしいツールとなりますが、全体像が見えないと、誤解を招くことにもなりかねないと思います。

メディアは締め切りに向けて急いで作業を行わなければなりませんし、私がこうして後から批判するのは簡単なことです。でも、BLMのビデオに関して他の人も指摘したように、コンサルタントなど、何かしら事情に詳しい人に話を聞いて確かめることはできたのではないかと思います。より長期的な話で言えば、こういったステレオタイプを行わないように、私たちそれぞれがお互いへの理解を深める努力をすべきなのかと思います。

そのためには、対話を続け、教育を改善し、より多くの本を読み、映画・テレビ・本等における登場人物をより多様にしたりと、様々な課題があります。しかし、私たちは少なくとも、政治的な分断が続いているという事実、黒人の人たちが今も苦しんでいるという事実などを学びました。今回の選挙を受け、私たち皆で一緒に前に進み、相互理解を深めていけることを願っています。

May 23, 2020April 2, 2023

7-Day Book Cover Challenge (Day 4): “Theories of Modern Art”

Introduction:

This bilingual post was originally written for social media, and is part of the “7 day book cover challenge.”

「7日間のブックカバーチャレンジ（4日目）：『Theories of Modern Art（近代美術の理論）』」

この投稿は、もとはSNSのブックカバーチャレンジのために書かれたものです。英語の本文の後に日本語が続きます。

The fourth book is “Theories of Modern Art” by Herschel Chipp, who was an art history professor at UC Berkeley. I encountered this book as a college student, when it was assigned in a class about the history of modern art. It’s full of primary sources: diaries, letters, and statements by the artists themselves. Despite the somewhat boring name, it’s a really fun read!

The following are works by some of the artists who show up in the book (in roughly chronological order). They’re paintings I happened to encounter, and not works that were mentioned in the book–or even the most representative work of each artist! This is “Postman Joseph Roulin” by Van Gogh, at the MFA in Boston. In the 2017 movie “Loving Vincent” (which, incredibly, was animated using handdrawn paintings that emulated Van Gogh’s style!), the main character is the son of this postman.

My parents are avid museum visitors, and ever since I was a child, I had the chance to tag along. We were most often in the sections with Renaissance art. In my childish mind, they were easy to understand as art that captured a moment in real life. We enjoyed the beautiful colors and nature represented in Impressionism too (although in my youth I believed the rumor that Monet’s style came from his bad eyesight, and questioned the point of Pointillism (so much work!)). But I just never understood modern art after Impressionism, and that frustrated me. So I decided to take a class about it in college–and boy, was that the best decision ever!

“In the Waves” by Gauguin, at the Cleveland Museum of Art. Whenever I see Gauguin’s Tahiti paintings, I have mixed feelings of nostalgia/familiarity (the scenes and clothing are reminiscent of Hawaii) and a vague annoyance at a white man’s portrayal of what he saw as an exotic culture. So I really like this painting that’s a bit different from his style, depicting a white woman (this was apparently two years before he left for Taihiti), and putting much more emphasis on color and composition than showing a different culture. The contrast of the green waves and red hair is so beautiful, too!

Starting with Post-Impressionism, this book progresses through movements like Cubism and Surrealism, ending with “contemporary” (as defined by when the book was first published (1968)) art. These letters and diary entries explain in detail what each artist aimed to achieve in their work, what materials they used, why they changed their style over time–and even their personalities. Van Gogh’s renowned letters to his brother about his artistic and financial struggles are heartbreaking. Picasso’s statement on “Les Demoiselles d’Avignon” is enlightening. Many artists’ lives are integrated with history, like WWI and nationalism. A couple of artists are so passionate that they seem rather self-absorbed–I recall one artist writing in his diary something like, “When I took a break from painting, I noticed that my wife had come and gone, leaving me dinner” (all the artists in the book are, inevitably, male and white).

Henri Rousseau’s “Fight Between a Tiger and a Buffalo,” at the Cleveland Museum of Art. I was amazed to learn that Rousseau had never seen a jungle–or even left France! I also like his style that somehow makes jungles appear two-dimensional.

Now these artists have become some of my favorites–so much so that when I go to museums, I rush to the modern art wings first. Some I just enjoy because of their visuals even if I still don’t understand them (Klee, Miro), and some I admire for their chameleon-like transformation over time (Picasso, Kandinsky). It is fun to recognize their names and style, read the descriptions, and interpret the emotions they were expressing. I find that there’s so much depth, and that the more I stare, the more there is to discover.

“Woman in a Purple Coat” by Matisse, at the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston. This woman is so stylish and could totally be an amazing fashion magazine editor today!

Thanks to this book, I have a much better appreciation for modern and contemporary art in general. I also have a better understanding of how crucial primary sources are in the field of research. In combination, they are even more powerful, fulfilling the artists’ desire for expression and enriching the viewers’ lives at the same time. For now, I’m enjoying these photos from the past few years–but can’t wait to visit museums in person again!

“Tre Croci-Dolomite Landscape” by Oskar Kokoschka at the Leopold Museum in Vienna. I am not a big fan of Kokoschka’s style of depicting people, but his harsh strokes seem perfect for these mountains (and the very muscular horse!).

*****

4日目は『Theories of Modern Art（近代美術の理論）』。故ハーシェル・チップ（カリフォルニア大学バークレー校で美術史を教えていた教授）がまとめた本です。

“Three Musicians” by Picasso at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. It seems like MoMA’s version is more famous, but I like this one more, because the musicians seem happier (the mustaches/smiles are so cute!).

私は、子供の頃から両親によく美術館に連れて行ってもらいましたが、主にルネサンス美術と印象派の絵画を見ることが多く、近代美術をあまり理解できませんでした。そこで、大学の時にあえて近代美術史のクラスを受講したら、とても面白く、大きく視点が変わりました。特によかったのが、画家の日記や手紙、アーティストステートメントといった一次資料を集めたこの本。どういう思いでそれぞれの絵を描いたのか、なぜ画家としてのスタイルが変わっていったのかということのみならず、第一次世界大戦などの時代背景や、画家個人の性格までが映し出され、読み物としてもとっても面白いのです。

Miro’s “Metamorphosis” at the Albertina Museum in Vienna. I still don’t get it, but I love the beautiful colors, and it’s so cute!

この本のおかげで、美術館巡りが大好きになり、行けばまず近代美術のところに直行するようになりました。ここで学んだり知ったりしたアーティストのみならず、近現代のアート全体をより広い視点で考えられるようになり、人生が豊かになりました。今はこういう状況ですが、この投稿に選んだ写真を見つつ、また美術館に行ける日を心待ちにしています！

Chagall’s “Sleeping Woman with Flowers” at the Albertina Museum. It is so interesting that the emphasis is on the flowers rather than the woman, as if to depict the contents of her dream.

December 15, 2019June 18, 2020

Inspired by global business leaders

–Interpreting for the Kansai Keizai Doyukai in DC and Cambridge

Last month, I had the opportunity to interpret for delegates from Kansai Keizai Doyukai (the Kansai Association of Corporate Executives), as they participated in their annual symposium at the Harvard Kennedy School. Every year, they participate in a one-day symposium in Cambridge with professors at the Kennedy School–and also visit another city (for this year, DC) to exchange views with opinion leaders. This was meaningful to me in many ways.

A view from the booth at Loeb House at the Kennedy School, prior to the symposium

Memorable reunions

First, the interpreter who was kind enough to bring me onto this project was someone I’ve admired for years. I met this interpreter more than ten years ago, when she trained many of us Japanese language contract interpreters at the State Department. We lost touch for a bit–but reunited about a year later in New York, where she was kind enough to give me a few jobs. I lost touch with her again after that (I left the country for a while, and by the time I returned, her old email address no longer worked). Then in 2017, I attended a dinner in DC as a USJC staff member–this dinner was with the Kansai Keizai Doyukai on their annual symposium trip, and accompanying them was the interpreter I had wanted to see for so long! It turned out she had worked with this group for decades. So I was really happy to get to work with her directly this year. She joined the Cambridge portion of the program, and from her and the other senior interpreters, I learned so much about the craft of interpreting, as well as next steps I could take in my career.

One of the delegates was also a familiar face. She was a participant in a 2017 International Visitor Leadership Program themed on women’s empowerment. This is an annual program that Kankeiren (the Kansai Economic Federation) conducts with the State Department, and the 2017 delegation that I interpreted for visited Boston and LA. She was kind enough to bring me a gift from Japan: a cute stomach warmer (haramaki) with a kitty on it! I’ve never owned a haramaki so I’m very excited about it 🙂

Another nice aspect about this project was that the DC itinerary included a lunch with the U.S.-Japan Council President, Irene. It’s always nice to interpret for USJC, as it feels like bringing together different aspects of my life.

U.S.-China relations and digital transformation

The DC portion was filled with meetings with thinktanks, and it was great to hear their opinions on the latest developments in U.S.-Japan relations and security in the Indo-Pacific, as well as the rapidly changing relationship between the United States and China. Many of the business leaders in the delegation have worked globally for years, and asked tough questions, often directly in English, about the U.S.’s current and future stance.

In Cambridge, we took a tour of the Harvard Art Museum, a new, modern Renzo Piano structure uniting three older museums. Our group’s student tour guide did such a great job explaining about the works of Klimt, Picasso and more, that we went beyond the time limit with numerous questions and observations.

With the symposium at the Kennedy School, half of the focus was on U.S.-China relations (I was amazed to have the opportunity to interpret for Professor Joseph Nye, whose work I’ve admired since college!). The other half was on the digital transformation of society. When a poll was conducted on how the symposium participants think digital technology will mean to humans 20 years from now, the results were fascinating: most of the Japanese delegates thought digital technology would be a “friend,” while most of the American professors thought it would be a “servant.” To this, symposium participants remarked that Japanese pop culture like Astro Boy and Doraemon might have played a role in shaping the mindset that robots are friendly–which is fascinating to me!

This year’s theme was about security and society in the digital age

I was very inspired by the business leaders who were not only engaged in their own communities and region (Kansai), but also participated in global, cross-sector discussions to shape the future of their companies. This was a really fun project, and I hope I’ll have the chance to work on it again in the coming years!

December 1, 2019June 18, 2020

A life dedicated to music

–Remembering Mariss Jansons

Details of the June 2nd concert that we attended. (Screenshot from the Vienna Philharmonic website.)

I am saddened to hear that the conductor Mariss Jansons has passed away.

I am embarrassed to say that I did not know of him until this past June–when my father and I attended a concert in Vienna that Mr. Jansons conducted. My parents and I were traveling in Vienna for about a week, and it was just a few days before we left.

My father is a huge fan of classical music. He owns thousands of CDs, several of them works by the same composers but conducted by different maestros or performed by different orchestras. Every weekend and many weeknights, he spends time relaxing in his “music room” with a good book. When we travel together, he’s often gone to classical concerts on his own, like at the Lincoln Center in New York, while my mother and I explore the locale in other ways.

So when my father said that he wanted to go see a concert by the Vienna Philharmonic, it completely made sense. But what made things complicated was that the concert my father wanted to attend was only open to members of the Philharmonic. The general public could only get in if there are additional openings or cancellations that morning.

On the day of the concert, my parents and I stood in line at the ticketing office, but were told that no tickets remained. My father was very disappointed–that’s when I found that, despite his many visits to Vienna, he’d never seen the Philharmonic perform locally–and we decided to at least take photos in front of the beautiful Musikverein concert hall. My father pointed to signs of the event and told us that he’d wanted to see this particular conductor, Mr. Jansons. I didn’t know how to console my father, and we just quietly took photos as dozens of people walked past us to enter the building.

A small miracle

That’s when something magical happened. A middle-aged lady approached us out of the blue, and asked us in English if we would like to have an extra ticket in the standing room. We hesitated for a second, caught by surprise. Then, another young man approached us and said that he could give us his ticket, too. My mother quickly encouraged us both to go, and it was decided. We rushed into the concert hall with five minutes to go until the concert began.

I had assumed that the tickets gave us some sort of assignment on where to stand (operas at Lincoln Center have individual areas where each person can stand), but that wasn’t the case. My father and I arrived at an area at the very back of the orchestra level. Much taller individuals already occupied the front, and we couldn’t see anything. Still, we were grateful for any space.

Mr. Jansons’s conducting

The orchestra performed Schumann’s Symphony No. 1 in B-flat major (Op. 38). I listened while I marveled at the gorgeous chandeliers and gold interior of the music hall (basically the parts that I could see above people’s heads). During the break some people left, and my father now seemed to have a view of the orchestra and Mr. Jansons. I still saw nothing and continued to listen as the orchestra performed Hector Berlioz’s Fantastical Symphony: An Episode in the Life of an Artist (Op. 14).

After Berlioz’s symphony ended, there was a slight moment of silence. Then the applause began, and roared on for many minutes. I turned to my father, hoping to talk to him. He was beaming and clapping enthusiastically, not even noticing that I had turned to him. That’s when I realized how much attending this concert had meant to him.

As people began to clear out, my father, still seemingly in a daze, asked if I saw the end of Berlioz’s symphony. When I said no, he began to explain what had happened during that moment of silence. Apparently, Mr. Jansons’s body was bent at an angle the whole time he was conducting–and after the performance ended, he had been frozen in place, unable to move. Members of the orchestra who realized what had happened came up and helped him down–and that’s when the audience began their applause.

As my father told this story, he choked up several times, touched by Mr. Jansons’ dedication to his craft. I was shocked. This was the first time in my life that I had seen him cry. I teared up, too, both from seeing my father’s reaction and from picturing Mr. Jansons’ bent back. My father mentioned that he was surprised to see how much Mr. Jansons had aged since the last time he’d seen him.

Youth and classical music

After this concert, my father and I searched various news about Mr. Jansons, worried for his health. Nothing came up–and to my relief and surprise, I found that he had conducted in Hamburg and Paris just a few days after this Vienna performance. I read that he’d once had a heart attack while conducting, and once again marveled at his commitment.

I also found this short interview on the Vienna Philharmonic Facebook page, where he talks about the importance to instill a love for classical music in the young generation. “I believe classical music will survive,” he says. And that I know to be true–partly because of him. Because on that day, the crowded standing space my father and I joined was full of young people who seemed to be college students. Many wore casual clothes like jeans and cotton dresses. During the latter half, when there was more space, some even sat on the floor, leaning against the wall and closing their eyes. After the concert I heard some of them exchanging their impressions in English. They seemed to know both symphonies well and shared their excitement to see Mr. Jansons on stage.

Unlike these youth who knew what a star Mr. Jansons was, all I did was tag along with my father. But I feel very fortunate to have heard his conducting in person, especially after getting tickets at the last minute (there were so many others in front of Musikverein, and it’s amazing that we received tickets from two individuals). I am so glad to have seen how much Mr. Jansons inspired my father as well as everyone in the audience–indeed, encompassing all generations and nationalities.

November 22, 2019June 18, 2020

The power of colors

–Interpreting at the Baltimore Japan Arts Festival

Interpreting for Utomaru and Mr. Fine at MICA

Last month, I had the opportunity to interpret for the Baltimore Japan Art Festival (BJAF). This annual event celebrates contemporary Japanese art, and I was lucky enough to support it this year and last year. I have lots of respect for the Nippon Motion team, who put on a multi-day festival just on a volunteer basis, in between their busy full-time jobs!

BJAF 2019: Utomaru

One of my favorite illustrations at Utomaru’s exhibit. It reminds me of the line, “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” (the title of the novel that later became Blade Runner).

This year, the featured artist was Utomaru, an illustrator who uses very cool, vivid colors. I interpreted for a discussion between her and Alex Fine, a Baltimore-based illustrator, mainly targeted for students at the Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA). They discussed everything from Utomaru’s unique palette (“why not draw someone with a blue skin color?” she asks), to the struggle between commercial work and personal work, aspects of Japanese and American culture in her work, her love for the cute and gory, and the importance of finding your own community of artists.

The art toy MIMI, which is inspired by the movie Cannibal Holocaust (1980).

BJAF 2018: Mr. Yusuke Nakamura

I love the elegance of Mr. Nakamura’s work. In the illustration at the bottom, the little dog is actually the country of Japan.

And at BJAF 2018, which was held in September last year, the featured artist was the illustrator Mr. Yusuke Nakamura. He gave a full lecture on his development as an artist, as well as the image that certain colors evoke (his great example was the Power Rangers: the heroes are always red, and the yellow one and blue one just don’t seem as strong). He also spoke about Bikkuriman stickers, which I hadn’t thought about in three decades (haha!). I really love his style. He said he was influenced by Mucha and that’s really apparent! In studying for this interpretation, I also came across his Twitter account, in which he often gives virtual lessons on drawing. His philosophy is to make art accessible–something that I really empathized with. And he is incredibly hardworking: backstage, even as we were waiting for the stage set up and discussing what his lecture is about, he was on his laptop refining the colors and outlines of his most current work.

One of my favorite works that was on exhibit: Wonder Woman (who’s calmly drinking tea, haha)!

Both were very inspiring, especially in their discussion of colors and encouragement of budding artists. It was truly an honor to meet these artists. Many thanks to Nippon Motion for the opportunity!

Interpreting Mr. Nakamura’s lecture–and occasionally giving out goods to MICA students who asked questions

July 1, 2019June 18, 2020

Diversity in pedestrian lights

–Thoughts on pedestrian lights around the world

Heterosexual (top) and LGBT (bottom two) pedestrian lights in Vienna (June 2019)

When I was in Vienna, Austria from the end of May to early June, I fell in love with their adorable pedestrian lights! First I found a cute heterosexual couple–and was even more delighted to see the couple of two men (although from a distance it also looks like friendly strangling :p) and two women (hearts beating in unison). At first I thought the lights were related to Pride Month–but it turns out that they were a temporary project in 2015 that soon became a permanent fixture!

I love anything related to symbols and tiny illustrations (my master’s thesis was on pictograms) so I wanted to take this opportunity to write further about pedestrian lights.

Diversity in signage

Signage like these are extremely important, I think. We talk a lot about diversity in literature, media representation, and political office. But these simplified little guys, gals (and non-binary figures!) are everywhere–and while they are subtle, they’re seared into our unconscious mind. I still remember that time I first saw a non-binary bathroom sign years ago, and while I was initially confused–why is her skirt titled?, I thought–learning about it made me appreciate the design.

Germany

Austria’s neighbor, Germany, is even more famous for its pedestrian lights. The beloved Ampelmann figure with the hat, originally used in East Germany, has remained even after the unification of the country, and is now an icon of Berlin. The website of a store that sells Ampelmann products explains the history of how the lights came to be: they were first designed by a traffic psychologist in 1961; and after the fall of the Berlin Wall, when everything in the former East Germany was being torn down, another designer helped save the unique little men. (The latter designer, Markus Heckhausen, now runs the company to which the above stores belong.)

*The “stop” Ampelmann in Hackescher Markt, Berlin. I love the straight lines in this photo, as well as the contrast of the walking pedestrians and the stop sign (June 2018)*

The United States

When I visited Berlin in 2011, I came across a very cool exhibit on pedestrian lights around the world. They had actual lights that periodically switched between green and red, with descriptions underneath. What struck me was that the U.S. had two lights: one with “Walk/Don’t Walk” spelled out, and another with a red hand and a white man. While I don’t read German, I think the signage says “Walk/Don’t Walk” was used in Los Angeles and the other in New York, but I’m pretty sure the “Walk/Don’t Walk” is actually the one that was in New York. As a child growing up in Hawaii, I remember being confused how the lights I saw on “Sesame Street” were so different from the LA-type lights around my house. Now those are gone from NY, too, apparently replaced by the other type in 2004. While I completely agree with the importance of universal pictograms, it’s sad that the iconic lights of letters have disappeared.

Lights from around the world were displayed at a pedestrian lights exhibit in Berlin (December 2011)

When I first moved to DC in 2004, I was really impressed by the countdown of the pedestrian lights. They are so useful, especially in crossing wider roads. Apparently that was brand new back then (just started in 2003), and has now been implemented in other cities, too.

Pedestrian lights in San Francisco (it’s just a coincidence that Uniqlo happened to be in photos of both Berlin and SF!) (April 2015)

Japan

I have always been bothered by how green traffic and pedestrian lights in Japan are called ao (blue). (It’s not unique to lights, as green apples or green nori are also called ao–apparently that word traditionally referred to both blue and green). As a precocious nine year old who moved to Tokyo from Hawaii for the first time, I purposely made a point to call the lights midori (green). I also sometimes felt like the lights looked blue-green–and sure enough, apparently there has been an effort to make the lights more blue, in order to match the terminology. How interesting–I’m sure this is a rare phenomenon even among the many different lights around the world.

Pedestrian lights in Tokyo (September 2015)

Let’s go!

Traffic lights, especially the “go” version of it, are so symbolic (literally) in encouraging us to proceed forward, like wind in our sails. I’m guessing that green Ampelmännchen products are much more popular than the red ones. I love how sometimes the “pedestrian” figures are on bikes or horses. But usually, the figures are all by themselves, regardless of whether they are going or stopping. What I love about the Vienna ones are that they are not alone. (Well, upon closer inspection, the heterosexual couple one I saw looks a bit like the woman is running away from the man who’s grabbing her (ummm…) but that’s another story.) This journey called life, whether we decide to go or stop, is much more fun with company–opposite gender or not.

‘Go’ Ampelmann symbol at the Ampelmann cafe in Berlin (December 2011)

May 25, 2019June 18, 2020

Taking action and exploring options to find your niche

–Interpreting for a unique ceramic artist

Ms. Fujikasa’s “Seraphim” at the Walters Art Museum

At the end of April, I interpreted for a talk at the Walters Art Museum in Baltimore. Ms. Satoko Fujikasa, an artist who creates sculptural forms with ceramic (and whose piece, “Seraphim,” is at the museum), presented at a special event for museum sponsors. Her work is in between pottery and sculptures, and defies categorization. I think it’s absolutely beautiful, especially how the ceramic material seems so light, aerial and elegant, defying gravity, even though clay is dense and heavy.

Ms. Fujikasa’s talk

In her talk, Ms. Fujikasa shared how, even though she was a ceramics student in college, she wasn’t quite satisfied making regular bowls, plates, and vessels. She found her calling when she saw a photo of the Antelope Canyon, and felt compelled to recreate its beautiful curves. She shared how she tried many different techniques until she found that coiling was the best one, and that she meticulously builds the forms from the bottom up.

Ms. Fujikasa is such a sweet and humble person, which is especially inspiring for someone who found success at such a young age. So many staff members at the museum came up to her and said that hers was their favorite work. Prior to the talk, the Deputy Director of Art (who was in charge of the museum’s Asian art collection) gave a tour of the museum and showed Ms. Fujikasa how Seraphim is displayed. She had placed it in a room by itself, set up in a lit glass case against a black wall, and surrounded by a semi-circular sofa for visitors to sit down and admire at length. Ms. Fujikasa seemed incredibly touched that her work received so much care and attention, and said that she was ready to cry. As an interpreter, I always feel very lucky to have the chance to meet artists and hear the thoughts behind their work. In this case, seeing the artist interacting with curators was even more special. The Deputy Director of Art said that she initially worried that she might not know which angle to display Seraphim in–but that once she saw it, she was pleasantly surprised to find what seemed to be the front. She asked Ms. Fujikasa if her interpretation of the “front” was correct, and seemed overjoyed when Ms. Fujikasa gave an appreciative yes. It was so cool to see this moment, when art professionals connect beyond differences in nationality and language. Seeing Ms. Fujikasa’s warm personality, it was no wonder that those around her (her husband, also an artist, helped her throughout the event and was her official photographer) were also kind.

The conversations between Ms. Fujikasa and the sponsors of the museum, some of whom had bought “Seraphim” and gifted it to the museum, were also fascinating. They were so knowledgeable about Japanese art, both in terms of artists and various movements. One of the sponsors asked Ms. Fujikasa if she’s better known in Japan or overseas, and that it was rare to see an artist succeed straight out of school in Japan. Ms. Fujikasa agreed that she is very fortunate that her work is popular overseas, and that especially in the ceramics world in Japan, traditional pieces made by experienced masters are more valued.

The beautiful ceiling at the Walters Art Museum, just a few steps from where Seraphim is displayed

Finding your niche

On a personal note, I love how she kept trying different methods until she found her calling. I have so many different interests in writing, interpretation, communications and more, that I worry if I’m too fickle or scatterbrained. I know that trial and error is the only way to find what combinations are the best fit, but I often end up comparing myself to others, feeling bad that I’m still looking for my niche.

I also spend a lot of time sitting at my desk, looking things up on the internet and assuming that success is difficult to achieve (e.g. “how could I make a living, considering so few people make it?”). Which is not only silly but dangerous, because I get discouraged and end up doing nothing. Ms. Fujikasa’s talk showed that taking action and questioning the status quo are important first steps. She asked to take sculpture classes even as a Ceramics major, and asked her professor if she could work on her passion project instead of given assignments. It’s motivated me to do the same. I plan to try more, ask more, and do more–and move forward, one step at a time.

February 2, 2019February 3, 2024

The origins of this blog

–Vowing to write more, even when it’s painful

Summary in Japanese (the full text in English continues below):

「このブログを立ち上げた背景」

もっと頻繁に文章を書きたいという思いから、おそるおそるブログを立ち上げてみました。初の投稿は、自分らしい文章を書くことにずっと恐怖を抱き続けてきた理由、マイノリティとして米国の多様な視点に貢献したいという考え、そして自分の弱さも曝け出すことに決めたきっかけについてです。よろしければご笑覧ください。

*A storybook seen in a shop window in Bremen, 2011*

It takes a lot of courage putting out something that’s flawed. But I hope that this blog would help me become better at writing on a regular basis, rather than wasting time seeking perfection.

Facing the childhood dream

I’ve wanted to be an author (I knew that word before “writer”) since I was a child, and that dream has lived within me for decades.

I enjoyed writing stories in elementary school, and thought I was doing pretty well. In middle school, when students met one-on-one with their teachers to talk about their career goals, I brazenly said that I would be an author. “But what about your income?” my teacher asked. “It’ll be ok; I’ll write bestsellers,” I replied. (This makes me cringe every time I think back to it.)

But over time, I lost confidence as I saw true talent in others. I pursued creative writing through numerous classes in school, online, and in the community–science fiction, mystery, foodwriting, magazine writing, memoirs–but I’ve been thoroughly disappointed with what I put out. My talented classmates captured moments in photographic detail, and portrayed emotions in ways that I never could. I was still stuck in my flat elementary school stories, while others’ narratives were rich and compelling.

I once went up to one of my high school creative writing teachers, who kept giving me B+ grades. I asked what made my stories “B” level, in hopes that she would provide guidance on how to improve. She ruminated for a few minutes as I stood by her desk, and said that she couldn’t explain it. It was disappointing knowing that she wasn’t the kind of teacher I needed. And after that, she began to grade all my stories with A-s. They were the saddest A-s I’ve ever gotten, inflated for no good reason.

I also remember one of my college creative writing classes, when we reviewed stories anonymously among classmates. One of my stories came back with ugly letters scrawled at the top of the front page, “I can’t believe you want to be a writer.” It was a rude awakening. I guessed without logic who the culprit was, and secretly hated that classmate for it (it may not have been him, in which case I feel bad!). And in a masochistic way, I kept that story for years, putting it out of sight, but shuddering every time I found it as I cleaned my belongings.

As I prepared to graduate college, I began to think that writing fiction was an unrealistic career for me, and started to pursue journalism and communications instead. I went to graduate school in journalism and enjoyed interviewing experts on subjects that I would never know about otherwise. I also worked as a communications professional–and have been in that field for more than a decade now. I enjoy writing on behalf of someone. There’s a lot of fun in imagining how others think and what messages would be most effective. I’ve gotten good at finding links between concepts that are seemingly unrelated (transitions in long speeches), explaining complicated matters succinctly (press releases), or trying to persuade others (event invitations). I think I’ve gotten the hang of writing when I can hide behind brands. But with every year that passes, I think back to that childhood dream, and wonder if I’ll live my life never having pursued it.

As a minority

Writing about deeply personal issues or putting out fictional stories feels like I’m exposing myself. I’m afraid of releasing my words into the wilderness–where they could be judged, misconstrued, or just plain ignored.

In hindsight, I know why my stories have been weak. The characters were fake. As an ethnic minority, I didn’t think characters like me would appeal to others. I kept creating what I thought were quintessential Caucasian American characters that I saw in the movies. They had monosyllabic names that were easy to read. They ate cereal, toast, and spaghetti with meatballs. They were mere paper dolls, defined by their situation and what happened to them rather than what they did, and had little personality. They were generic in an attempt to appeal to everyone–and ended up being memorable to no one.

*Shadow puppets at the Crocker Art Museum in Sacramento, 2015*

I used to think that if I wove my culture into my stories, it would overshadow everything else. But I now know that’s not the case. Increasingly more books feature stories of immigrants and ethnic minorities, where culture serves as a background but doesn’t define the entire story. Regardless of culture, nationality, or language, readers identify with universal themes like love, friendship, ambition, envy and rivalry. Gone are the days of my childhood, when American picture books rarely included Asians, and when they did, they were side characters with slanted eyes that never opened. This celebration of all cultures has been highly encouraging. And I’m beginning to see that I might be able to contribute unique perspectives based on my upbringing.

Writing efficiently

As an introvert, I’ve always preferred writing over speaking because it allows me to think carefully about my thoughts. But I realize now that I need to practice writing about different topics, including my own thoughts, quickly. I will still pursue fiction, and maintain this blog in the meantime to share aspects of real life.

I recognize that feedback would help me grow. I have much to learn from artists and writers who put their work out there, and manage to ignore the inner (or real life) critic that says “you think someone cares about that?” or “look how self-absorbed you are!”. I know I’ll become more thick-skinned as I practice.

I have a lot of fun posting for friends on social media. Writing is cathartic, turning negative thoughts into positive action, and feedback from friends cheer me even more. But I’d like to take it to the next step, exposing my words to strangers, too (this takes so much courage, I had to force myself to slowly type the word “strangers” here!).

Making it a habit

Working in communications, I enjoy putting words on the screen, but by the time I come home, I rarely want to type some more. Being free of corporate restrictions like tone and vocabulary is liberating, but it’s also exhausting to build from nothing. Oftentimes I stare at the blinking cursor and wonder if I truly love writing, or if I only love the way I sound when I say I write. I’ve held on to this dream for so long that I worry about facing the unromantic parts of it, including the endless editing, and fear that I might not like it all that much. But I have to start somewhere, and hope that this platform will hold me accountable.

Resolution

This blog was a New Year’s resolution for 2019. But I spent time doing everything but writing. I bought a shiny new laptop, replacing one that was seven (!) years old. I researched blog sites, from those that would be easy to navigate regardless of language, to those that provided more resources to potentially expand in the future. I scanned topics to write about, but became discouraged that I was passionate about a lot but an expert in none. I thought about blog titles, but nothing clicked. I also debated about how much I should reveal about myself.

Days went by. For weeks, I woke up involuntarily at 3am everyday, unable to go back to sleep. I was utterly disappointed with myself for having spent yet another evening without any action, and went through the day groggily. I couldn’t even bring myself to respond to messages because I wanted my next post or email to be about the blog, and that added to my guilt.

Then it occurred to me that, in a meta way, this internal debate could be the topic of my first post. Exposing my weaknesses is one way I can be genuine in my writing.

Vincent van Gogh apparently wrote about how scary the blank canvas is. It’s still true–that blinking cursor on a blank page is one of the scariest things around. But things have become so much easier since van Gogh’s time. We can easily edit on a screen–in the case of a blog, even after publishing! The title of this blog is an ode to the “blank slate” (without its philosophical connotations) that would hopefully become a place for clean, efficient writing (“sarasara” in Japanese).

No one might read this entire post, but writing about it has, as always, helped me. While January is gone, I am relieved to finally publish this in early February, and hope to embark on a journey full of adventure.