“Relative deprivation” is a concept in sociology, which refers to the common phenomenon of people’s dissatisfaction not being correlated to the reality of oppression, but instead to perceived oppression.
This means human nature is such that people are most dissatisfied when they think they should be getting better treatment.
And that could be when things are getting better _ not necessarily worse as might be expected _ because it’s all about perceptions.
The plight of Japanese youngsters isn’t all that bad compared to their counterparts in many other nations.
But their sense of relative deprivation is quite intense because social pressures for them to conform and to do good are quite high.
Many outside of Japan would be proud of having landed an assembly-line job.
If you are Japanese, it is less than perfect.
Being shut out of a white-collar lifetime employment job after completing a degree from a prestigious college is often an embarrassment not only for the youngster but the entire family.
“Freeter” is a label assigned to the despised when many Americans would be happy _ and proud _ to just have a job, any job, even a “keiyaku” or “haken” (i.e., not lifetime employment) job!
Imagine the stigma in Japan for being unemployed.
And the jobless rate is at a record high 5.7 percent (which wouldn’t be a record at all in places like the U.S.)
Relative deprivation is seething in Japan.
Random crime to vent out frustrations is on the rise.
The existence of random crime may not be all that surprising in other big cities of the world.
Not so for Japan, which has long boasted a reputation for being crime-free (not that any nation is truly crime-free).
So no one is prepared for a stabbing spree in a commuter train station or a beating at night in a park.
In the U.S., if a nut goes berserk in public, he/she would be dead quite quickly.
The police would shoot him/her.
In Japan, we read reports of police who have been unable to track down the perpetrator, let alone arrest him/her.
In the U.S., homes have several locks. In Japan, people go out leaving their doors unlocked.
In the U.S., some citizens are armed, take self-defense lessons, carry mace or at least avoid walking alone in dark streets.
In Japan, hardly anyone does.
It is a rather dangerous situation, even if the numbers of the relatively deprived youngsters who end up turning to crime are still few.
Japan simply isn’t prepared.
There is a sense of hostility in the air.
There is a sense the best times for Japan are over.
The Tokyo Flower Children may be wilting _ remnants of the good old times _ just as the American hippies were of the 1960s.
More on the Tokyo Flower Children.
(video above: Jounetsu wo Torimodosou by Teruyuki Kawabata of CigaretteSheWas translation by Yuri Kageyama, who reads with Haruna Shimizu, and additional music by Winchester Nii Tete, Keiji Kubo, Yumi Miyagishima and Carl Freire in the TOKYO FLOWER CHILDREN performance of Multicultural Poetry and Music at the Pink Cow, Tokyo, June 8, 2008.)
Where have all The Tokyo Flower Children gone?
Whence virtuosity
Poet and novelist Ishmael Reed once said he read to an audience two poems _ one by a Nobel laureate and another by one of his students _ and asked for a show of hands to guess which was by whom.
Opinion was 50-50, which goes to show no one can tell on virtuosity.
After all, a toilet seat becomes art supreme if Duchamp puts it in the backdrop of a fancy museum.
Juxtaposing gems from the amateur with stuck up award-winners is a joy.
It challenges status quo definitions of what is and what isn’t _ the basic purpose of art to start with.
The unfortunate thing is: A toilet seat is just that _ a toilet seat, if there is no Duchamp and there is no museum.
That’s why it is so difficult and risky to test such waters in art.
But if and when you can pull it off, you will be able to create something unique, almost by definition, because most of what you see in art is about following what went before you and got the stamp of approval that it is indeed art and not just a toilet seat.
I have written before about the live music scene in Tokyo.
Watching the young musicians, who all have other jobs and boast absolutely no technical virtuosity as we know it in the West, made me wonder why that community existed and what it was about Japan that created that _ as well as what that meant as far as definitions of art.
I called the phenomenon the Tokyo Flower Children.
Virtuosity is obviously important in art.
But I also realized it’s not as important as one may think, especially in this day and age when razzle-dazzle can be packaged, commercialized and bought with money (relatively affordable) like a Cirque de Soleil show (which isn’t really art at all _ at least the old-style circus had the elephants and the clowns).
These peacefully wayward Japanese kids are products of an extremely rigid and conformist society that is rapidly unraveling and no longer promising success for all, even if you follow all the rules to the T and prove you will sacrifice individuality for the good of the team.
They are rejecting the package.
They have chosen to be artists.
And to me, there is no doubt they are really artists.
I must thank them for helping me realize that the most important thing about art is that sincerity.
And they certainly have that.
The choice.
The courage to choose.
The vision to see beyond what is being handed to them.
That is what is being sought among the audience at Tokyo live-houses, who are for the most part just their peers.
Art with a capital “A” is proving incapable of moving beyond the market and the galleries catering to the rich.
Art must reach and be about real people.
But whether this kind of art that throws virtuosity out the window can provide anything more than a psychologically therapeutic outlet for the participants remains to be seen.
Look at me! (for technique) surely isn’t enough.
But will anyone look if there is no virtuosity at all?
Can you prove value beyond delivering slices-of-life samplings of anthropological curiosity?
And isn’t thinking that you can mold virtuous art out of the everyday _ a la Duchamp _ the most arrogant approach to self-expression?
But I don’t think it’s dishonest or incorrect.
And arrogance, or at least confidence in what you believe, goes with the territory.
Photos by Kabe Chushin 13
Photos by KABE-CHUSHIN.
Poet YURI KAGEYAMA presents
The TOKYO FLOWER CHILDREN
in an Evening of Multicultural Poetry and Music
at The Pink Cow, in Tokyo.
June 8, 2008.
Little YELLOW Slut with Teruyuki Kawabata, Haruna Shimizu and Keiji Kubo
Loving Younger Men
an ode to the Caucasian male with Carl Freire
Cecil Taylor
People Who Know Pain with Yumi Miyagishima
Ikiru
SuperMom with Winchester Nii Tete
Excerpt from “The Father and the Son,” short story to be published in “Pow-wow:
American Short Fiction from Then to Now,” Da Capo Press (Perseus Books).
Jounetsu wo Torimodosou Music/Lyrics/Guitar/Song by Teruyuki Kawabata, translation
by Yuri Kageyama, performance by All
Poet YURI KAGEYAMA’s works have appeared in many literary publications, including “Y’Bird,” “Greenfield Review,” “On a Bed of Rice,” “Other Side River” and “Stories We Hold Secret.” She has a book of poems, “Peeling” (I. Reed Books).
Music maker, designer and self-proclaimed “shy and wagamama only child,” TERUYUKI KAWABATA leads CigaretteSheWas, one of Japan’s greatest indies bands. The group has a new CD album later this year.
Master percussionist WINCHESTER NII TETE hails from the honorable Addy-Amo-Boye families of drummers of Ghana. He plays with the Ghana national troupe, Sachi Hayasaka, Yoshio Harada and Takasitar.
HARUNA SHIMIZU of CigaretteSheWas fell in love with Ghana’s kpanlogo drum while she was in college. She has kept at it as freely as her spirit moves her.
KEIJI KUBO, who plays didgeridoo and bass, is a linguist and student. He has total respect for aboriginal culture and cultural integrity.
Violinist YUMI MIYAGISHIMA plays with CigaretteSheWas, Kyosuke Koizumi, Binary Scale, The little witch and other groups.
CARL FREIRE is an American writer, translator and musician.
DEEJAY C. GEEZ from St. Louis has been living in Japan since 2006. His super soul music and dope true-school hip hop starts 7 p.m.
Poetry and music 8 p.m.
TOKYO FLOWER CHILDREN 7
This kind of peace-loving Tokyo indies music scene is what inspired my latest short story “The Father and the Son,” which will be in an anthology of American multicultural fiction edited by the McCarthy “Genius” Award-winning poet and novelist Ishmael Reed and avant-garde dancer Carla Blank.
“Pow-wow: American Short Fiction from Then to Now” can be pre-ordered from Amazon.com, and I already ordered mine!
“Jounetsu wo Torimodosou” is written by Teruyuki Kawabata, the guy singing with his guitar in the video.
His beautiful fiancee Haruna Shimizu and I start it off with a reading and are joined by Winchester Nii Tete, Yumi Miyagishima, Keiji Kubo and Carl Freire _ who took part in the June 8,2008 TOKYO FLOWER CHILDREN event of multicultural poetry and music.
The other pieces that evening:
“SuperMom: A Poem for All Working Women With Children” with Winchester, a reading of “Ikiru,” “Little Yellow Slut,” “People Who Know Pain” with Shima, “Loving Younger Men” and other works.
(Earlier Tokyo Flower Children postings)
Remembering Soul
we leave without saying a word
people will understand
yesterday’s sunset burns in our memory
but tonight we remember soul
forever tucked in that pocket of our soul
we will forget the days of tears and fears
remember, remember,
in this pocket of our soul
we don’t need to cry
dalalalilah, dalalalilah, dalalalilah
just look at the sun and the sky
we don’t need to fit in
we don’t need to cry
we don’t need to cry
SuperMom with Winchester Nii Tete
SuperMom: A Poem for All Working Women With Children
Poetry by Yuri Kageyama
Kpanlogo by Winchester Nii Tete
Performance at the Pink Cow in Tokyo
June 8, 2008
SuperMom is the Mother in “The Terminator,” fearless, sinewy, a mother like no other.
SuperMom risks her life to save her child.
SuperMom risks her life to save the world.
SuperMom _ the mother of all mothers.
SuperMom, Mother, Mama, Imamin, Okaasan!
SuperMom is never found in kitchens barefoot and wears boots to march to work.
SuperMom doesn’t make obento.
SuperMom shops at Ichi-Maru-Kyu.
SuperMom _ the mother of invention.
SuperMom, Mother, Mama, Imamin, Okaasan!
SuperMom doesn’t gossip with other moms but makes her own money, pays tuition and buys you sneakers.
SuperMom doesn’t aspire to be on the cover of Nikkei Woman.
SuperMom just minds her keep.
SuperMom _ a motherfucking worker.
SuperMom, Mother, Mama, Imamin, Okaasan!
SuperMom endures, her womb red and heavy and big and open, wrenching out babies and seaweed and stench.
SuperMom spurts out curdled milk like a fountain in the desert.
SuperMom is the origin of origins.
SuperMom _ the bottom of the sea.
SuperMom, Mother, Mama, Imamin, Okaasan!
SuperMom teaches the primordial instinct of nurturing the species, the legacy of creation, the courage of the Artist.
SuperMom shows by example.
SuperMom leaves the message that nothing counts except Who You Are.
SuperMom _ the bottom of the earth.
SuperMom, Mother, Mama, Imamin, Okaasan!
Jounetsu wo Torimodosou
The song lyric version (as opposed to the poetic version)
translated into English
which will be performed at TOKYO FLOWER CHILDREN at the Pink Cow SUN June 8, 2008:
Jounetsu wo Torimodosou/We Remember Soul
By Teruyuki Kawabata of CigaretteSheWas
Without a word, don’t look back,
We are moving on;
Yes, we know these are things
That they will understand.
Get it back in our hearts
Like a sunset in our soul
And tonight, get it back,
dalalalilah, dalalalilah, dalalalilah X4
Forever tucked in my heart,
In this pocket of my soul,
Those days of tears and days of fears,
We’ll let them go untold.
Yes, we know we were young,
We aimed for way too high,
All we did in return
Was make our loved ones cry.
Get it back, let’s get it back,
In this pocket of my soul
We no longer need to cry
Cuz those days are gone away.
dalalalilah, dalalalilah, dalalalilah X4
Take a look, the rain is gone,
We can see the sky,
There’s no need to fit in
Or try too hard to get by.
Get it back, let’s get it back
In this pocket of my soul
We no longer need to cry
Cuz those days are gone away.
We don’t need to cry cuz those days are gone away.
We don’t need to cry cuz those days are gone away.
People Who Know Pain
Recorded with Yumi Miyagishima on violin at Music Man studio in Tokyo, May 24, 2008.
Part of the TOKYO FLOWER CHILDREN poetry readings with music.
Yumi Miyagishima, or Shima, is one of my favorite Tokyo musicians and one of my favorite people.
I wrote this poem inspired by the kind of things she talks about because she is so filled with a free spirit, the sense of justice, the love for music _ and a total disregard for practicality, status, “common sense” and material wealth that makes her really delightful.
It is difficult living in this vicious, greedy and insane world that Tokyo has become _ especially for a Japanese woman.
Tokyo on the surface looks like any big modern city.
You’d think women will get equal treament.
Think again.
Women are being treated like second, third, class citizens, and live and work fighting for their jobs, safety, self-respect, right to be creative as though this is right in the Third World.
It makes it even sadder that all women like Shima want is genuine love.
And they must seek it from men, the very pepetrators, for the most part, of the discrimination, cruelty and degradation that hurt and brutalize women.
Women who want nothing more than the fulfillment of their simple dreams are vulnerable.
But Shima grows stronger day by day, year by year.
Here she is, still playing music in Tokyo, and she even has a nice boyfriend:
People Who Know Pain
The World is divided bet-
Ween two kinds of People
The Winners and the Losers
The Takers and the Givers
The Famous and the Forgotten
The Loved and the Unloved _
Those who don’t care and
People who know Pain
People who know Pain
when your tongue rolls, the
tips of my nipples, piercing
knife of betrayal
Vincent Van Gogh
John Coltrane
Garcia Marquez
Toulouse Lautrec
Billie Holliday
Richard Wright
Kenji Miyazawa
People who know Pain
People who know Pain
baby foxes dance,
leaving paw marks in the snow,
fairy tale of joy
Hermit, victim,
Outcast, untouched,
Untouchable
They travel faceless
Shadows on the subway
Mute, unconnected,
Unknowing of their own Pain
People who know Pain
People who know Pain
bitter memories grow
a cancer pomegranate
bleeding and rotting
I’d rather shelter that Pain alone
A powerless nobody,
Ashamed, shunned,
Stench of insignificance,
Laughing the idiot’s laugh,
Running forgotten errands,
Dying before living like other
People who know Pain
People who know Pain
a zillion light years
the planet pulsates timeless
soundless universe
I’d never be that superior someone who
Conquers, fornicates, lynches,
Deposits paychecks, plans careers,
Forms opinions, writes reviews,
Weighs pros and cons, wins awards,
Attends receptions, discriminates,
Never knowing, shrugging off, how painful
People’s Pain can be
People’s Pain can be
Remembering Soul
One of the pieces we will do in TOKYO FLOWER CHILDREN at Tokyo’s Pink Cow Sunday, June 8, is “Jounetsu wo Torimodosou.”
Teruyuki Kawabata, leader of Tokyo indies band CigaretteSheWas, wrote the lyrics and music for the tune, which is on the soundtrack for a just released movie “Chiisana Koi no Monogatari (A Little Love Story),” from Kurosawa Studios.
I translated the lyrics. It’s harder than you may think because “jounetsu” literally translates as “passion.”
This is what I ended up doing:
Remembering Soul
we leave without saying a word
people will understand
yesterday’s sunset burns in our memory
but tonight we remember soul
forever tucked in that pocket of our soul
we will forget the days of tears and fears
we asked for too much and
made those close to us sad
remember, remember,
in this pocket of our soul
we don’t need to cry
dalalalilah, dalalalilah, dalalalilah
just look at the sun and the sky
we don’t need to fit in
remember, remember
in this pocket of our soul
we don’t need to cry
we don’t need to cry
we don’t need to cry
dalalalilah, dalalalilah, dalalilah