innovation - Tabula Sarasara

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.

March 30, 2019June 18, 2020

Bringing innovation to a traditional field

–Sake brewers and experts who are finding a global audience

The stage at the beautiful Baltimore Museum of Art, prior to the event

Last month, I had the opportunity to interpret for sake events that were held at the Freer|Sackler Gallery and the Baltimore Museum of Art. A friend, who was emceeing the events, kindly recommended me as the interpreter. While the interpretation itself was very short, I learned a lot from this experience.

These events, hosted by the Embassy of Japan, were a screening of the documentary Kampai! For the Love of Sake followed by a sake tasting. The two events, held on two consecutive days, were very similar except that they were geared towards audiences in different cities.

The film

The film follows three trailblazers in the sake industry. One is a British citizen who, upon moving to Japan, becomes so enamored with sake that he joins a sake brewery, becoming a master brewer who creates so many new types of sake that his boss stops him from coming up with new ideas. Another is an American citizen who, also falling in love with sake after moving to Japan, becomes a “sake evangelist” who promotes sake in English to a global audience by publishing several books, teaching courses, and giving lectures worldwide. Another is a fifth-generation sake brewer who has brought new techniques to his family business, and promotes his sake by traveling abroad or using new methods like social media.

Each person broke barriers, and it is pleasantly surprising that such a traditional field is welcoming innovation and globalization. It is no doubt a testament to the strength and talent of these three individuals, as well as the foresight and kindness of those around them.

Mr. Kuji

Mr. Kosuke Kuji, President of Nanbu Bijin Brewery in Iwate Prefecture, the fifth-generation sake brewer featured in the documentary, came to DC and Baltimore to promote the film.

His backstory is particularly compelling. During the film, he talks about how sake brewing was traditionally left to toji, or the master sake brewer, and that the head of the breweries were in charge of promotion and representing the company. But through Mr. Kuji’s own conviction, as well as a generational change among staff, he was able to bring in new ideas that he learned in agricultural college. Determined to bring his sake to a worldwide audience, he traveled to New York and visited sake pubs one by one, convincing them to try his sake. When the Great East Japan Earthquake struck in 2011, and people abstained from alcohol because of the mourning and somber mood following the disaster, Mr. Kuji took to social media to appeal to the public that consuming goods from the Tohoku region was in fact more helpful to support the local residents.

After each film screening, Mr. Kuji gave a brief speech, setting the stage for the sake tasting. It was this speech that I had the opportunity to interpret.

Mr. Kuji already seemed affable on screen, but in person, his warmth, sense of service, and hospitality came through even more clearly. I was worried about the technical vocabulary related to sake, including the process of rice milling, fermentation, etc., but when he and I met to prep before the event, he quickly assured me (even without me asking him) that he’d keep his speech simple. I was so relieved to hear that!

On stage, he said that he appeared in this film with the hopes of introducing sake to a wide audience. He mixed in a few lines in English and made everyone laugh. He enticed those in the auditorium to try his sake with a “virtual kampai,” and described in detail the aroma that would be wafting from a sake cup filled to the brim.

During the sake tasting, he stayed at the Nanbu Bijin (which was one of four sakes from around Japan being promoted at this event) booth for a while, answering questions. And for the duration of what must have felt like a long evening, he stayed at a social media photo booth with sake-related props, joking that he is now a movie star, and continuously welcoming those who wanted to take photos.

Innovation in a traditional field

What I learned from this experience wasn’t simply vocabulary related to sake. I enjoyed the film because it is so much about bringing new ideas to a very traditional field. It is refreshing that younger people, as well as non-Japanese citizens, are doing that. (The American citizen and the British citizen in the film were both of the first participants of the JET Programme, so it’s also a nice promotion of this great program.) I was doubly excited to hear from Mr. Kuji that Kampai! For the Love of Sake 2, which has recently come out in Japan, focuses on women brewers (women were traditionally forbidden from even entering the brewery).

And I’m sure that the global popularity of sake will help spur further innovation. The sake event at the Freer|Sackler required no prior registration, but I heard that around 50 people had to be turned away due to the capacity of the auditorium where the film was shown. Some of them stayed nearby until the film was over just to join the tasting, which was held in the hallways surrounding Freer’s courtyard.

I learned a lot from Mr. Kuji, with his optimism and upbeat demeanor, as well as belief in his family business as well as in sake. It was an honor to meet him, and I’m glad I had the opportunity to be involved in this event!