NEWS FROM FUKUSHIMA: Meditation On An Under-Reported Catastrophe By A Poet is an Official Selection. Screening at LetLive Theater in Los Angeles SAT March 2, 2024 7:30 p.m. I am happy, grateful, honored. Thanks to my theater and film directors, Carla Blank and Yoshiaki Tago, my brilliant tireless multicultural cast, my dedicated crew and team, everyone who stuck with and believed in my writing.
WHY I REPORT IN ENGLISH by Yuri Kageyama
Why I Report in English by Yuri Kageyama
This is something I just happened to find in my desk, typed up (yes, typed _ remember those days?). It’s an essay about why I am a reporter, and why I report in the English language that I wrote I think in the 1980s. Perhaps I was applying for work? It is long before I joined The AP. I am not changing the wording, but have put it down exactly the way it is typed on the sheet of paper, except for the four changes made in red in pen that were already there. I might write it differently today. But I feel exactly the same. So here goes:
Ever since I can remember, I have been of both worlds _ American and Japanese. As a child of a Japanese “salaryman” who had dreams of pioneering science by crossing borders, years before the Japanese business Establishment decided “internationalization” was fashionable, I was constantly thrust back and forth between two very different, sometimes clashing, cultures.
I will not pretend that the experience was always pleasant. It was often stunning, confusing and painful. One moment, for instance, I was expected to be the submissive, demure Japanese girl, who laughed shyly covering her mouth. The next moment, I found myself having to turn into an assertive, no-nonsense American, who could outtalk and outperform any male.
Gradually I have come to accept this dichotomy. In a sense, I now cherish it as a privilege. I took to switching cultural allegiance for convenience. I would claim my “Japaneseness” when watching Ennosuke Ichikawa Kabuki, but I would, with no qualms, claim “Americanhood” while appreciating soul rhythms at an Earth, Wind and Fire concert.
It is, after all, an eyeopener to perceive that many of society’s rules are arbitrary. What passes as positive in one culture may be absolutely taboo in another, and vice versa. As a perpetual outsider, one can see through much of the false pretentious aspects of social norms and values and hope to grasp more accurately the universal human essence.
Reporting in English about Japanese matters, therefore, came naturally to me. Explaining the East to the West has been my persistent pastime. It is something I do well, I think, because it is part of my fate.
Earlier this year, I flew to Iwo Jima to cover the Tokyo Metropolitan Government’s annual services for the war dead there. The sandy island speckled with gnarled tropical vegetation appeared, at first glance, barren except for the military bases.
Yet, upon closer inspection, strange voices seemed to fill the hot, dry air _ chants verging on song, rising and falling. So many people, both American and Japanese, have died here, the voices seemed to be saying. Their blood covers this island. Even if it has been washed away, the fact of history that thousands died here will never be erased, the windlike voices were saying.
Two monuments stand on Iwo Jima _ the one put up by Americans with the Stars and Stripes and the other of gray stone built by Japanese with a graphic depiction of the map of Japan. As though staring into two alien worlds with unmoving granite eyes, the two monuments remain apart on opposite sides of the same hill.
The visit held a revelation for me. Obviously, Japan and the U.S. are two separate countries that have even waged war against one another. Today, many of the misunderstanding and barriers that divide the two nations are still close to insurmountable. But thanks to a slightly aberrant upbringing, the two worlds are totally at peace within myself.
It is this unconditional yet effortless peace between Japan and America I know so intimately that I want to keep in mind when I work as a reporter.
MY POETRY IN ISHMAEL REED’S KONCH
My Poetry in Ishmael Reed’s KONCH
My poetry gets published in Ishmael Reed’s KONCH MAGAZINE.
“Fearless at 90” in KONCH magazine Winter 2024 issue.
What a thrill. And what company I keep.
My reading of the poem with bass by Toshiyuki “Turner” Tananashi. Tokyo 2024.
My Poetry and Essays in Ishmael Reed’s THE PLAGUE ISSUES OF KONCH 2023
My Poetry and Essays in Ishmael Reed‘s THE PLAGUE ISSUES OF KONCH 2023
Ishmael and Tennessee Reed collected 62 contributions from people in China, Japan, Europe, Africa and the U.S. to write about their COVID experiences. And one of them is yours truly. The online collection of works crisscrossing the world and spanning two issues of KONCH literary magazine is coming out as a real-life book publication in 2024. On the cover is a photo taken in Venice of the poet, playwright, novelist, essayist, thinker and my forever mentor Ishmael Reed, standing next to a plague doctor (who else?) I am so happy, excited and honored. I can’t wait to get a copy.
A BROKEN FRAME a poem by Yuri Kageyama
THE BROKEN FRAME a poem by Yuri Kageyama
The ambulances are screaming. We look up and see a big tear in a steel fame right by our apartment building. We wonder but figure it’s not a murder because we don’t read about it, and there aren’t that many murders in Tokyo. Every time we see the broken frame, we wonder who it could have been. And what might have driven this individual, whom we don’t know and never will know, male or female, young or old, happy or unhappy, probably unhappy, literally over the ledge to a dark deep definitive leap of death. It does not make us feel very good. Every time we see that broken frame. A few weeks later, the frame gets fixed. And we stop wondering.
MY FILM, POETRY AND MUSIC IN TOKYO
“News From Fukushima _ Meditation on an Under-Reported Catastrophe by a Poet,” directed by Yoshiaki Tago, gets a screening at Libra Hall in Tokyo SUN April 23, 2023, followed by My Poetry With Music.
The film documents a theater performance in San Francisco in 2017, directed by Carla Blank, starring Takemi Kitamura, Monisha Shiva and Shigeko Sara Suga with music by Stomu Takeishi, Isaku Kageyama, Kouzan Kikuchi and Joe Small. Lighting by Blu. Video by Yoshiaki Tago. Written by Yuri Kageyama.
We also did A Reading of My Poems with music. In the order they were read: “I Am The Virus” (please see below for the recording), “Hiphop Fukushima,” “Nothing Happens,” “ode to the stroller,” written and read by Yuri Kageyama with music by The YURICANE band featuring Nobutaka Yamasaki (piano), Takuma Anzai (drums), tea (vocals), Hiroshi Tokieda (bass) and Hideyuki Asada (guitar).
Yuri Kageyama · I Am The Virus _ a poem by Yuri Kageyama with piano by Nobutaka Yamasaki
I AM THE VIRUS
a poem by Yuri Kageyama, read with piano by Nobutaka Yamasaki. First published online in KONCH Magazine in 2020, compiled into a book in 2024, THE PLAGUE EDITION OF KONCH MAGAZINE, edited by Ishmael Reed and Tennessee Reed.
I am the virus
I thrive on mossy envious egos
They keep showing up
Offices, clubs, picnics,
Choosing being seen, hoarding
Over social dis-tan-cing
I am the virus
I fester in corona-shaped clusters
Commuter trains, cruises, crowds
Peering at the Olympic torch,
I love the naming “Chinese virus”
The taunts, attacks on slant-eyed people
I am the virus
I cower when folks stay in
Takeout food, work from home,
A meter apart on solitary walks,
Wearing masks, washing hands,
Mixing aloe and alcohol
I am the virus
The crazy evil devoured
By doctors, vaccines, canceled concerts
Turning into live-streamed music,
People who remember to tell those they love
How much they really love them.
All PHOTOS by On Lim Wong.