On March 11, 2011, Japan suffered one of the biggest earthquakes in its history. I happened to wake up in the middle of the night in my home in New York City, and found someone posting about it on Facebook. I immediately tried calling my parents in Japan, but all phones and cellphones were down. Only the internet was working, and eventually my mother emailed me to say everyone in my family was fine.

In the days following this disaster, the Japan Society in New York asked me to participate in a charity concert to contribute for the relief efforts. I participated in the April 12 concert, among many other artists, which was reviewed by the New York Times, and is available on YouTube.

Before this earthquake in March, I had applied for a grant to bring one of my collaborators from IRCAM in Paris with me to Japan to give lectures and performances together at Japanese universities. After learning that my grant didn’t come through, I was thinking of canceling my trip, especially after learning that the Fukushima’s nuclear meltdown was getting worse by day. With unknown health and radiation hazards, I was increasingly afraid for my own safety.

I spoke to Dr. Hiroko Terasawa, my host who was inviting me to give lectures at Tokyo Academy of the Arts and Tsukuba University, the Japan’s top institutions. I told her that I was thinking of canceling my trip when she told me that many young Japanese artists and students are depressed and feeling helpless in the aftermath of the nuclear disaster. She said that by learning the unique way I am leading my creative life, I could be very encouraging to them, and in turn, give them hope for the future.

Dr. Terasawa’s words moved me.

Although I had already given the charity concert at the Japan Society, which was a wonderful occasion to help Japan’s recovery efforts in my tiny way, I felt strongly that I needed to do more by physically going there and meeting with these students. What is my “fear” of potentially getting exposed to nuclear radiation for one short week, when I have the option to come back to the US, while these people live with the invisible nuclear threat and don’t have that option?

So, I bought my plane ticket—I felt it was the least something that I could do.

First, I gave a lecture at the Arts Media Center at Tokyo Academy of the Arts. It is the most venerable national university of the arts in Japan, which consists of two main departments: music, and visual arts. My lecture was held at the high-tech part of the visual arts department, where computer music lectures were held. This is one of the hardest schools to get into in Japan, where only one out of about 30 candidates are accepted, and not usually at the first try.

I usually tailor my talks according to my audience, but this time I wasn’t quite sure what to focus on. It can be about playing subharmonics on the violin, interactive computer, contemporary music interpretation, composition, improvisation, computer programming and performance preparation, and some (or all) of the above. Dr. Terasawa told me that the student body is a mixed with classical music performers, composers, sculptors, painters, and other kinds of visual artists. So I decided to touch on a bit of everything in what seemed a short 90-minute lecture.

I started with “Subharmonic” demonstration. It’s the extended bowing technique that I developed, which allows the violin to play pitches below the open G without changing the tuning. This is usually a very effective “show opener.” Just as I thought, after I played a few subharmonic notes, there was a “roar” and many students sprang off their seats. They quickly gathered around my podium, asking to see it again. I got their undivided attention now, so the rest of the talk, I kept pouring out everything from my subharmonic works to interactive computer works, demonstrated my motion sensor glove, which I am developing in collaboration with IRCAM in Paris.

I bombarded them with new information one after another, up close.

Mari Kimura demonstrating subharmonics to stunned students at Tokyo’s Academy of the Arts, July 14, 2011. Photo by Hiroko Terasawa

Tokyo Academy of the Arts students approaching the podium to see subharmonics up close. Photo: Hiroko Terasawa

Afterwards, the students “reviewed” the class and several of them said, “Astonishing, so encouraging, flabbergasted.” Some wrote me very touching personal emails thanking me for my visit and the lecture saying that my presentation really gave them hope, and that they will continue to search and strive for their own voices, not obstructed by limits. I also saw the blogsphere between the students buzzing saying, “I’m gonna have to try subharmonics for weeks non-stop!” and “wished she comes again and give more lectures, next time to the violin faculty” etc.

The following day I gave another presentation at the Center for Tsukuba Advanced Research Alliance at Tsukuba University. As the school session was already over in mid-July, my talk was attended by a select group of faculty, researchers and students in the Tsukuba University community, one of Japan’s leading institutions in science and humanities. I was able to exchange ideas with them, learning what they are up to, and made new friends in different discipline.

Then, the third event was a performance organized at the Japanese Society for Sonic Arts (JSSA), an event honoring Max Mathews, the “father of computer music,” who passed away this past April in San Francisco. Max started the field back in 1950s at the Bell Laboratories in New Jersey. Max and I met in early 1990s at Stanford University’s Center for Computer Research in Music and Acoustics (CCRMA) while I was still a student at Juilliard. Max was one of the first people in the early 1990s to recognize the significance of my subharmonics and was one of my most vocal supporters for my career. He was one of the kindest and inspiring figures in my personal and professional life and I miss terribly.

Mari Kimura and Max Mathews at “the Max Lab” at CCRMA, Stanford University on March 30, 2011. Photo: Glenn Cornett

During this concert in Tokyo, a big picture of Max was displayed on stage, and it was touching to hear the wonderful anecdotes and experiences my Japanese colleagues shared with Max; he has left a big mark in the Japanese computer music community. Back in April, I gave a private concert at the New Spectrum Foundation in Palo Alto, California, at the home of the President, Glenn Cornett. Max, along with John Chowning, another pioneer of computer music and FM synthesis (all the YAMAHA MIDI keyboards were of his invention!) came to this small gathering. At JSSA event held at Tokyo Denki University School of Science and Technology for Future Life, I repeated the program. During the concert, I felt as if Max was watching over me.

Just before going on stage, with Max Mathew’s picture on the background at JSSA concert, July 16, 2011 Photo by Mari Kimura

For my own project, I visited one of Japan’s foremost Kabuki actors, Mr. Fukusuke Nakamura, to discuss a future collaboration, together with another extraordinary artist, shamisen master Mojibe Tokiwazu. I became obsessed with Mr. Nakamura’s remarkable hand motion, and he graciously agreed to put one of my motion sensor gloves on his hand, and we experimented playing together. This is the picture from the back stage of Shinbashi Embu Jo, the temporary home of Kabuki theater while the main auditorium is under renovation.

Kabuki actor Fukusuke Nakamura wearing IRCAM’s motion sensor “mini-MO” glove, playing with computer with his hand motions, July 13, 2011. Photo by Mojibe Tokiwazu.

IRCAM’s “MO”, Modular Musical Objects, especially the one I am using inside my glove that is shown in the recent STRINGS article called “mini-MO”, the smallest and the latest model, is the most un-intrusive 3D-accelerometer + 2D gyroscope. I used to have a motion sensor called “xbee” which is about 6 times bigger and is commonly used today, but after comparing the data with my bowing motion, I found mini-MO is faster, more sensitive and superior in performance. IRCAM’s Frédéric Bevilacqua, the head of the Real Time Musical Interaction Team at IRCAM, said that these lectures and performances I gave in Japan in July, was mini-MO’s premiere in the country and certainly the first that was used with the violin.

IRCAM’s Augmented Violin

The Fukushima nuclear disaster, which is still not contained today and remains veiled in secrecy, is said to be worsening by day. Since air and water is connected globally, some say this may be the worst catastrophe that human kind has ever experienced. I’m afraid we will not know, at least for a while, the full extent of the damage and impact to our global environment and to our children.

In my life, I have already lived outside of Japan longer than the time I spent in Japan. But my family, my young nephews, my friends, and their children still live there. As a parent of young children, I cannot help but to feel solidarity with Japanese parents, feeling angry, frustrated, helpless, and scared all at the same time. This is in fact, much more serious than some recent stock market blips and silly political maneuvers.

As an artist, as a person, what can I do? I was also pleasantly surprised to see Lady Gaga, one of a very few major stars not canceling their tours to Japan post-Fukushima, appearing in concerts and Japanese media, displaying her support for the county.

It was my feeling of helplessness that motivated me to see and talk to the young Japanese students, face to face. After seeing their faces brighten up and hearing how hopeful they are, I felt it was my privilege to go to Japan.

Mari Kimura

Added by Mari Kimura on Oct 14, 2011 at 4:40pm –