
By J.K. YAMAMOTO
Even though 68 years have passed since Japanese Americans were sent to internment camps, new discoveries about that period continue to be made.
In recent years, researchers have presented films, books and exhibitions on such topics as education, crafts, baseball and big band music in the camps, painting a more complete picture of what life behind barbed wire was like.
One of the latest chapters is being put together by Shirley Kazuyo Muramoto, a koto master and leader of the Murasaki Ensemble. The daughter of a koto teacher, Kazuko Muramoto, and the mother of a koto prodigy, Brian Mitsuhiro Wong, she became interested in the teaching of koto and other Japanese performing arts in the camps.
Her family is part of that little-known legacy. While interned, her grandfather, Yasuki Hori, took her grandmother’s koto, which had no strings, and turned it into a playable instrument. He made strings by tying reeds together and ji (tuning bridges) by carving wood scraps and toothbrush handles. He also learned the shakuhachi and accompanied his two daughters as they learned the koto.
Muramoto, an Oakland resident, is the organizer of “Hidden Legacy,” a tribute to those wartime teachers, which will be held on Saturday, April 24, at 3 p.m. at Koyasan Buddhist Temple, 342 E. 1st St. in Los Angeles’ Little Tokyo. The program is being jointly presented with the temple, the Japanese American Cultural and Community Center (JACCC), and Professor Lane Hirabayashi, holder of the George and Sakaye Aratani Endowed Chair of UCLA’s Asian American Studies Center.”
The guest commentator, also from the Bay Area, is Jere Takahashi, lecturer of Asian American studies at UC Berkeley. The featured artists are:
• Kineya Jyorokusho, who taught nagauta shamisen (a style of singing while playing the shamisen) at Gila River in Arizona;
• Bando Mitsusa, who taught odori at Tule Lake in California;
• Kyokuto Kimura, who taught biwa at Tule Lake;
• Hanayagi Reimichi, an odori instructor, representing her father-in-law, Rev. Yoshio Iwanaga, who taught Obon odori at Poston in Arizona.
• Kayoko Wakita, a koto instructor, representing her parents, Baido and Nobue Wakita, who taught shakuhachi and koto, respectively, at Manzanar in California;
• Yukino Okubo Harada, who taught odori at Amache in Colorado;
• Fujima Rieyuki, an odori instructor, representing her mother, Nishikawa Kikuharu, who taught odori at Minidoka in Idaho;
• Shirley Muramoto and Brian Wong, representing koto teachers Mitsuko Sanemitsu Oda of Tule Lake and Haruko Sawada of Topaz, Utah.
Muramoto, whose mother was interned at Topaz and Tule Lake, found that awareness of Japanese arts in the camps was limited, even among former internees. “Many thought there were some performances in their camp, but thought it probably did not happen in other camps.”
She is uncertain why so little research has been done on this aspect of camp life. “Maybe fewer researchers have been interested in this subject, or are not familiar with the Japanese arts world. It wasn’t until I read a research paper by Minako Waseda, ‘Extraordinary Circumstances, Exceptional Practices: Music in Japanese American Concentration Camps,’ that I finally found information on Japanese performance arts in the camps.
“I found out that Prof. Waseda is fluent in both English and Japanese, which helped her in talking to the artists. I have found that my background playing koto for almost 50 years has given me an understanding of the Japanese performing arts world, which helps me when I’m interviewing these artists.”
Muramoto has studied under various koto masters, including her mother, and received her shihan (teaching license) in 1976 from the Chikushi School in Fukuoka.
Tracking Down the Artists
Waseda had a list of artists in all 10 of the War Relocation Authority (WRA) camps. Muramoto contacted friends and colleagues who are koto players and teachers — including June Kuramoto of the band Hiroshima and Linda Kako Caplan of Toronto, Canada — and asked them to be on the lookout for anyone who had studied or taught koto in the camps.
“Some former internees did not want to discuss their experiences, which was not unexpected,” she said. “For example, my grandfather was so humiliated by the experience in camp that he never discussed it, even with his own family. On the other hand, Molly Kyokuto Kimura was very open about her experiences playing biwa at Tule Lake.”
A couple of years ago, Muramoto ran into an old college friend, Mary Arii Mah, a dancer whose odori name is Bando Misayasu. Her sensei, Bando Mitsusa, was an odori teacher at Tule Lake. “As a result of our discussions, Mary and I decided to produce a performance about Japanese arts in the camps,” Muramoto said. “ ‘Hidden Legacy’ was presented in San Francisco in 2008. Bando Mitsusa attended, but did not dance for the program, though I understand she does on rare occasions.
“Also, Reiko Iwanaga, aka Hanayagi Reimichi, led an Obon odori dance in honor of Rev. (Yoshio) Iwanaga, who was interned at Poston. Reiko Iwanaga was interned at Amache.”
Muramoto believes that the Obon dance, which honors the deceased, was practiced in most of the camps. Rev. Iwanaga is also credited with organizing the first Obon odori in the continental U.S. at Buddhist Church of San Francisco in 1931. The 75th anniversary of that milestone was celebrated in San Francisco Japantown in 2006.
Making Instruments
When war with Japan broke out, many Japanese American families destroyed photographs, flags and other possessions that linked them with Japan. Other treasured items, such as phonograph records, were disposed of because they couldn’t be taken to camp and there was no one to leave them with. Fortunately, many instruments did not suffer that fate.
“Based on the interviews with artists, correspondence written in Japanese was burned, but most Japanese instruments, like the koto, which is a large, 6-foot long instrument, were stored,” Muramoto noted. “The shakuhachi and shamisen can be transported in parts, so people were able to carry these instruments into camp.
“In order to play instruments in camp, some people later sent for their instruments, which friends brought to them, or some were even allowed to retrieve them themselves.”
Those who had no instruments were able to make some with materials found in camp. “Kayoko Wakita, who was interned at Manzanar, tells the story of how the husband of one of her mother’s students made a koto for his wife in camp … Bando Mitsusa tells stories of people who made masks from paper mache, stage curtains from gunny sacks, and wigs out of stove pipe, rope and shoe polish for her dancing. People were very creative, resourceful and imaginative.”
Cultural Assimilation
Japanese cultural activities were not encouraged by the authorities, but were not banned. Many of the Nisei internees considered whether to learn more about their Japanese heritage or to pursue hobbies that were more “American.”
“The WRA’s policy was to ‘assimilate’ the Japanese Americans into the American culture,” Muramoto said. “This may have influenced the thinking of internees, such as Jeanne Wakatsuki Houston, who noted in her book ‘Farewell to Manzanar’ how she settled upon an extracurricular activity to pursue. After trying a long range of activities from odori to ballet to Catholicism, Houston said she always returned to baton twirling, because she ‘was desperate to be “accepted,” and baton twirling was the one trick I could perform that was thoroughly, unmistakably American.’
“Yet, many internees took the initiative to offer training in Japanese performing arts, and encouraged anyone who had knowledge of Japanese arts to perform and teach. The WRA was not happy about those who practiced Japanese arts, but they allowed it to keep internees occupied.”
In many cases, the students were brought to these classes by their parents, Muramoto said.
There is no way to know how many Nisei avoided Japanese cultural practices and how many Nisei embraced them. But Muramoto quoted Molly Kimura as saying that she did the “unpopular” thing, which was “to study everything Japanese: she took Japanese language classes, learned tea ceremony, flower arranging, mizuhiki (art of weaving silver and gold string into shapes), performing biwa, and setting up Buddhist Sunday school every Sunday.”
Lasting Legacy
When the camps were closed, the WRA discouraged Japanese Americans from congregating and re-establishing Japantowns. But the community and the culture survived the trauma of internment.
Muramoto found that some internees “took cultural pride in learning these traditions and continued to spread the knowledge after internment.”
Masayo Arii, who learned nagauta shamisen from Kineya Jyorokusho at Gila River, became one of the founders of San Jose’s Chidori Band (a fixture at Obon dances around the Bay Area), and still performs Japanese songs for many Northern California community festivals.
Hanayagi Reimichi leads the Obon odori at San Jose Buddhist Church every summer in memory of her father-in-law, Rev. Iwanaga.
Kayoko Wakita, whose mother taught koto, became a koto teacher herself, as well as a professor of Japanese language, music and history at Los Angeles City College.
Molly Kimura became a teacher of biwa, tea ceremony and ikebana as well as an ordained Buddhist minister and an interpreter for Japanese dignitaries visiting the Sacramento area.
Muramoto would like to do a documentary on this subject, but she faces challenges. “Funding for this project has largely been out-of-pocket. It can be difficult convincing others that highlighting the Japanese arts that were taught and practiced in the camps is not ‘un-American,’ but an important part of our history. Once more people grasp this, I hope they will help to fund projects that will shed more light on this hidden part of our heritage.”
Suggested donations for those attending the “Hidden Legacy” program are $20 general, $15 for seniors and students with ID.
For information and reservations, call (213) 628-2725, ext. 133, or e-mail Gavin Kelley at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .
For more information on Muramoto, visit www.skmkoto.com.