Are you here, my ancestors? Here before this grave Stand I, your descendant Who has long wandered under the sun -- Scorching sun, cloud-shrouded sun, oppressing sun -- on earth stained red Humble at heart, the fields of waving rice plants behind, I put my palms together In silent prayer For all humankind   ＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊     Yudai Kamisato continues to create works that reflect his attitudes towards politics and society and question how people can coexist with Others that they cannot understand. Following in the footsteps of his grandparents, who emigrated from Okinawa to Peru, Kamisato researched the current situations of South America and Okinawa for his new creation. He studied the life of the “father of Mexican Theatre,” Seki Sano, who was active before the war in Japan and fled to Mexico later, and encountered Ryoichi Jinnai, an entrepreneur who, although longing to immigrate, has chosen to stay in Japan while supporting the community of people of Japanese descent in Peru and other countries of South America. This piece explores the concept of “homeland” through the stories of people who emigrated to foreign countries in the past and died overseas, and the stories of people currently living in foreign lands. This perspective of an observer also informs us about ourselves, living in contemporary Japanese society.

Dramaturgical notes

I thought I should comment on certain circumstances in the United States, which I visited in preparing this work but did not specifically mention in it. My uncle and aunt live in a town near Las Vegas, Nevada. They were both born in Peru, but their children were born and raised in the States. They basically converse in Spanish with each other and in English with their children. Only my uncle knows Japanese. But every evening, bowls of rather diluted miso soup are placed on the dinner table. My aunt has the same Okinawan roots as my uncle, and her miso soup was transmitted from Okinawa to Peru, and from Peru to the States. I didn't ask if the faint flavor arose in this process of transmission or if the two are simply trying to reduce their intake of salt, but it struck me as the kind of miso soup passed down in our family (I am not going to wax sentimental about home cooking here). Even if language is lost, culture remains. It is carried on in forms that gradually change. Just from my aunt's miso soup, one can clearly see how ridiculous it is to make cultural ascriptions in terms of nations and to argue about "cultural purity." For this work, it was not my intention to celebrate the Japanese or glorify Japanese culture. I also have no particular desire for everyone to share my roots. I merely think it's important to consider how, when the people who have gone away imagine their birthplace, the people left can update it.    Yudai Kamisato

Credits