Career

Photo by Kayoko Abe

Dear Wato

It was 30 years ago that I was first introduced to Wato by his mother, Nao Abe. I thought, “What a strange name!” Wato. Wa (“Japan”) and To (“China”). The country of Japan and the country of China. I suppose you could just as easily say “Sino-Japan”. From antiquity, the countries of Japan and China have had a deep cultural connection. However, in 1937, when Wato was born into this world, war had broken out between Japan and China. Bestowing such a name on their child under those circumstances is a tribute to the depth and magnitude of the parents’ thoughts. As his name implies, Wato is a man whose depths cannot be seen no matter how hard you try, and a man who does not know fear. I don’t know if it is because of this or despite it, but sometimes you can see him writhing in frustration and demonstrating to those around him a stubbornness that will not bend in any way. At that time, Wato had a robust energy, with the heart and curiosity of a child. He left the panic surrounding him to engross himself in something in an instant, his heart rushing along at a moment’s notice. Each surprised “Wha-?” was followed by a muttered “Oh, I see,” relieving the ordinary people around him for the time being.

On the other hand, he was big-hearted, yet fragile and delicate like fine glasswork, at times requiring quite careful handling. At age three, he was given oil clay by his painter father, with which he made things, only to destroy them, and then make them again. He listened to the sound of the wind, looked over the appearance of things, eyed the elaborate details of life, and then shaped them out of clay. He sharpened his mind, and artwork flowed from his fingertips. But they disappear when destroyed. I wonder if in his child’s heart he felt joy and transience, and the joy that reemerges after transience. He was clearly different than the people doing nothing more than making balls of rounded mud. With his honed heart, he wandered from the world of soil to the world of musical instruments before returning again. As his profile shows, I suppose he has been at this for 77 years. It’s strange to say “suppose”, but there are times when he is like an innocent three-year-old toddler, others when he is like an adolescent lost in emotion, and still others when he is like a thousand – no ten-thousand-year-old hermit. What I mean to say is, Wato is an adorable person who you simply want to hug in spite of yourself.

Michiko Yoshinaga
August 17, 2014