What were you doing Labor Day weekend — last year, the year before, 20 years ago? For many of us the answer would be: grilling teriyaki chicken, hamburgers, or vegan tofu links. Thousands of writers would say, “I was writing.” And a smaller number was, in fact, hammering out 100 pages. Is that really possible, you wonder? You bet.

On August 28, Jennifer Chung, winner of last year’s 33rd annual 3-Day Novel Contest celebrated with a book launch party for “Terroryaki!” at the Elliott Bay Book Company, just in time to promote this year’s contest.

Terroryaki! is a fun and fast read, set against the backdrop of a wedding where the main character, Daisy, looks to escape prenuptial inter-racial drama by going on the hunt for a mysterious take-out truck whose dishes are to die for. Literally. Daisy ultimately discovers that she must face her destiny and save more than just a wedding day.

Author, Chung, was born into a family of engineers, and works full-time as a software engineer for an aerospace company. She practices nagitana (Japanese martial arts) at a dojo on Mercer Island, and performs as keyboardist of The Red Queen Theory, a local band. Yes, this lady leads a busy life. So the 3-Day Novel Contest provided the needed incentive to get the whole story down in one go. Although, she did take time to sleep.

“I won with less than 100 pages, more like 20K [words] total,” she said.

In college, Chung wrote for the school paper, and participated in LARP (Live Action Role Playing) a kind of interactive fiction — comparable to Dungeons and Dragons but without the rules and with real people. Writing character sheets was a prelude to writing stories, which she’s been doing for nearly two years.

One of the plotlines in Terroryaki!, is the upcoming wedding of Samantha, the sister of Daisy, the main character. The plot was inspired by nearly all of the author’s cousins getting married.

A critique workshop Chung took at the Richard Hugo House, the creative writing hub in Seattle, had been particularly helpful, she said. Prior to that, Chung said she didn’t “hold an MFA, and I didn’t take that many writing classes.” In 2008, her friend and martial art teacher, Kay, introduced Chung to National Novel Writing Month. She experienced what it was like to write in sprints, setting the kitchen timer to 10-15 minutes. Or her aim would be to write 800 words in one go.

The difference between the Writing Month and the 3-Day Novel contest is that the latter only lasts three days, participants pay a fee, and the actual prize is getting the winning manuscript published. Chung raved about editor Kris Rothstein who helped her get the book in shape.

“Winning the [3-Day Novel] prize has given me more confidence in my writing,” said Chung.

The grand window display at Luly Yang Couture. Photo credit: Judith van Praag.

It’s been about five years since yours truly reported on Luly Yang and the imaginative window displays at her Studio Boutique on the corner of Fourth and University. Recent passers-by may also have to take a second look at the “mannequins” dressed in Luly Yang creations for Teatro Zinzanni. Imagine seeing the contortionist Vita Radionova, and acrobat Domitil Aillot, change their pose!

Just that one afternoon the class-act performers created a live billboard for Zinzanni’s new show, “All Dressed up and Somewhere to Go.” The story —written with legendary ballet, film and theater star Liliane Montevecchi in mind— is about couturiere Dina Monte, who’s invited by Caesar, her former partner (comedian Frank “don’t miss a beat” Ferrente) to create a Runway show on his turf. Dame Liliane, in real life a true “fashionista” who looks like a million dollars whether she dresses in Salvation Army finds or in designer labels, sparkles in sequined Luly Yang Couture gowns. Yet she is at her most intriguing performing “Just a Gigolo” in a trench coat with hat.

The title of the show could apply to Luly Yang herself. In 2006 she expanded her LYC boutique on the corner of the Fairmont Olympic Hotel.

“The size of that place! It’s a hangar,” exclaimed Dame Liliane in her typical French accent, about visiting the boutique for a fitting or two.

In 2007, Yang received the Nellie Cashman “Woman Business Owner of the Year” award. The following year, Broadway star Dee Hoty wore a LYC $30,000 Runway “Finale” gown in the 5th Avenue Theatre production of “Mame.” The LYC Runway shows, which have benefited Children’s Hospital and continue to benefit Camp Korey, draw a fashion-hungry crowd.

Well-dressed and heeled, Luly Yang is a walking advertisement for her own brand. Clearly she has been going somewhere from the onset. A frequent destination of late is Beijing. November of last year, the go-getter opened a sister-store in the Beijing Fairmont Hotel, and quality control demands frequent visits.

My suggestion that venturing out to China during an economic crisis in America may have seemed like “leaving the sinking ship,” is met with denial by the designer.

“I didn’t think this was a sinking ship. But it may not have been the best time to start a new business elsewhere. You need to pay attention to the home-front when things are difficult,” she said.

Asked whether she experienced a sense of going back to the land of her ancestors, Yang admitted she didn’t know much about them, but that she felt [literally] closer to her parents, who relocated from the Seattle area to China twelve years ago.

“It’s only a four hour flight from Beijing to where they live, so I see them much more now.”

Thanks to her dedicated creative design team, the business in Seattle goes on uninterrupted even during Yang’s absence. The talented young designer Giuseppe Grazioli and seamstress Michele Lateste for instance, jumped at the opportunity to work on a theater-show, pleasing both their employer and world-renowned stars such as Dame Liliane and colleagues.

Ming & Rui, the awe-inspiring aerialists, look dandy in LYC suits, their assistant (Ming’s wife), Alexa Hukari dazzles in an Op-Art number. Opera singer Rachel DeShon IS an LYC Runway bride, and an airy voile and sequins invention ups Vita Radionova’s already radiant beauty. But in my book, the creation presented by “Vertical Tango” star Sandra Feusi wins hands down the Fantasy Tailor’s Trade Award.

Collaboration between Teatro Zinzanni and the Luly Yang Couture design team has been mutually beneficial, each partner introducing their own circle to the other’s art. The result is a lovely marriage between fashion, chaos and dinner you ought to experience yourself.

“All Dressed Up With Someplace To Go” runs through October 11 at Teatro Zinzanni’s Spiegeltent, 3rd Avenue-North & Mercer Street. See www.zinzanni.org.

The Luly Yang Couture show takes place on October 9 at the Fairmont Olympic Hotel. See www.Lulyyang.com or www.campkorey.org.

Fiber artist Tina Koyama. Photo credit: Judith van Praag.

On First Thursday September 3rd, fiber artist Tina Koyama celebrates a first showing of “My 50th Year” at the Toshiro Kaplan Studios. Together with three other recipients of the 2009 PONCHO/Pratt Artist In Residence Scholarships she shows work created during and thanks to the residency.

A University of Washington Grad with a Masters degree in Creative Writing, Koyama embarked on her artistic career only seven years ago. Believe it or not, the successful artist’s search for the imaginary started with missing earrings. Her sister-in-law wished for a matching pair to go with a necklace.

“We bought beads, and I put the jewelry together in no time,” Koyama says. After initial reluctance to give in to “the bead bug,” a course at the University of Washington opened her eyes to the possibilities of glass seed beads, and eventually she earned a Certificate in Fiber Arts from U.W. Extension.

In September of 2002 a photo of her first free style watchband was published on the cover of a bead magazine, and instant recognition followed. She now is a nationally renowned teacher. Lucky Seattleites only have to go to Fusion Beads in Wallingford for her classes.

The necessity to find an ultimate way to exhibit her tiny three-dimensional abstract pieces, led to the hand-sewn creation of amorphous, inside/out shapes made of dyed cord, rope, or string, that nest her seed bead objects.

After her mother’s death last January Koyama laid her hands on the journals she kept while in Junior High. Not wanting to share any of the “really bad” writing with anybody, she tore up the pages and used them in collages. The Pratt residency allowed her to experiment with different media, such as printing. Therefore it’s not surprising that words and two-dimensional imagery found their way into her new body of work. Snippets of text, the meaning (out of context) fleeting, are still readable. Pasted on boxy canvasses and painted in translucent colors her younger self’s words form the background to small herring bone weavings of red beads, squares mounted in odd numbers, or photo essays; a new language.

On her 49th birthday Tina Koyama started with the first of 366 pieces (it was a leap year) of tiny woven beadwork inventions —created one per day— intended for “My 50th Year.” Mounted on a 20” x 60” stretched canvas the resulting assemblage shows similarities with a needlepoint sampler, made to show-off the needle worker’s ability and craft.

“Read” from left to right, just like western script, the viewer will, upon close inspection, discover series executed in a certain color palette, or along a design concept. The 366 pieces form a memory bank for the artist. Each tiny object is a still from a moment in time. Thus, a series in purples and fuchsia is reminiscent of a bracelet in the same color scheme. There are bead objects woven from a tube she carries while traveling, and squares created when her aim was to capture a miniscule section of a Gustav Klimt painting.

“Design” is not quite the correct word for Koyama’s artistic approach. With a profound dislike of drafting graphics, she says she’s at her most creative when the meditative nature of repetitive movement —stringing bead after bead—takes her into a mental state she likens to Jazz improvisation. Listening to music helps to reach that stage.

“I love Keith Jarret, he’s the genius of Improv,” she says.

Koyama adds she never has a picture in her mind when she sets out to create her mysteriously shaped miniatures.

“I strive to be Keith Jarrett,” she says laughing out loud.

“My 50th Year” is on view in the Artists In Residence group exhibition on September 3, from 6 to 8 p.m. and Fridays and Saturdays from 12 – 5 p.m. or by appointment at the Pratt Gallery at Tashiro Kaplan Studios, 306 S Washington Street, Suite 102 Seattle. Tina Koyama and other Pratt residents will present a slideshow on Thursday, September 10, at 6 p.m. at Pratt Fine Arts Center, 1902 S. Main Street in Seattle. For more information call (206) 328-2200.

Every Thursday without fail, there is a familiar question put to me where I work in the produce department of Uwajimaya in Seattle’s International District. “You got fresh poi, bra’?” That question is always accompanied by a beaming smile and a “mahalo” when the answer is positive. Hawai’i is often forgotten on the mainland except as an “island paradise” getaway but in reality, it’s a very vital culture with a unique identity and issues of its own. In this issue we try to spotlight that state and island culture.
Mahalo to the Pacific Reader and International Examiner staff and to all the reviewers. And to our readers, enjoy the power of literature until we meet again. -
— Alan Chong Lau, Coordinator of Pacific Reader
By Judith van Praag

Poets and writers often write about place: some imagine a metaphorical island inhabited with characters brought to life by their imagination, and some live on actual islands where they chronicle the history of their people. Others are inspired by their surroundings to write fictional accounts.

In her first book of poetry, poet and writer Juliet S. Kono describes her 1943 birth on the Big Island of Hawai’i in Hilo in “Black-out Baby” (“Hilo Rains,” Bamboo Ridge Press, 1988) as an ominous beginning to life colored by the attack on Pearl Harbor on the nearby island of Oahu. Relatives who lived on the mainland were interned and Juliet’s parents and verbal aunts talked about the war all the time. Young Juliet didn’t understand what was said, but she was always listening. “We loved to hear the family stories.” That she was listening is reflected in her poems and in her short stories.

More than by the war, however, Juliet’s mother appeared to be traumatized by the Tsunami of 1946 that devastated downtown Hilo on April Fool’s Day. “I think my mother suffered from PTSD [Post Traumatic Stress Disorder],” Kono said after a reading of her poem about that disastrous day. How a mother’s traumatic experience affects a child for life is clear in her second book of poetry, “Tsunami Years” (Bamboo Ridge Press, 1995), in which Kono addresses the Tsunami from the points of view of several characters swept away by that great Aleutian wave.

Juliet Kono is not scared away by pain, the anguish of others or her own agony. Parents suffering loss will recognize the blues in her “Country of Grief” in “Tsunami Years” — one of a series of poems about the death of a child — and find solace in her sharing.

Kono spent her childhood in Hilo during the last years of the Territory before moving to Honolulu with her parents. Kono’s grandparents were “Issei” (Japanese immigrants) without rights to become naturalized citizens. The laws changed two years before her grandfather’s death in 1954 but he didn’t become an American citizen. His wife studied for her citizenship but didn’t take the exam.

“Everything was a puzzle to me as a child,” Kono said. “We still adhered to many of the Japanese and Buddhist traditions while my grandparents were alive, and did many things American as well. I learned the Lord’s Prayer in school and did the Vandan Ti Sarana at church. We celebrated Easter and the Buddha birthday at around the same time.”

Kono’s children are “Yonsei,” fourth-generation Japanese Americans. The “Hilo Rains” poem “Yonsei” tells of the son who lives a different life, far removed from the old ways, “And yet once a year you come with me in your dark brooding — like a craving — to visit the ancestors’ grave sites and pray.”

Kono went back to school after raising her children, receiving her bachelor’s degree and master’s degree from the University of Hawai’i at Manoa. Winner of the Elliot Cades Award for Literature, the James Clavell Award for Fiction, the American Japanese National Literary Award and the Ka Palapala Po’okela Award for Excellence in Literature, she also received a U.S./Japan Friendship Commission Creative Artist Exchange Fellowship in 1999.

In her first book of short stories, “Ho’olulu Park and the Pepsodent Smile,” (Bamboo Ridge Press, 2004), Kono relates the predicament of a Japanese woman who’s married off as a picture bride to a Japanese emigrant in Hawai’i in “Hiroshima Present.” Highly stylized and poetic, this opening story breathes ancient Japanese culture. The author herself suggests the particular style in this early story is the result of self-consciousness. Perhaps she aimed at writing perfect English rather than letting her characters speak their own lingo. In subsequent stories, Kono honors her heritage as well as the islands’ culture by letting her characters speak pidgin.

Aided by her well-drawn characters, Kono leads the reader through different phases of the history as well as the present day life of the islands. She ends her book with “Rock Fever,” about a modern-day bride and her predicament in nursing an ailing, elderly mother-in-law. The story is reminiscent of “The Elizabeth Poems” in “Tsunami Years.”

In the prologue to “Ho’olulu Park and the Pepsodent Smile,” Kono writes that her stories are based on secrets, lies and shame. This foreshadows a major conflict between fiction and nonfiction. Such an exposé suggests that the author and narrator are one and the same. But Kono insists that there’s only a kernel of truth in the stories. So be it, as long as the reader can relate.

Etsuko swears by using a Solingen knife for all-purpose cutting. Patti’s favorite is a Mac, and she uses a Japanese whetstone to sharpen all of her knives.

Neither of them uses a “goma-iri” to toast sesame seeds. Patti uses a small cast iron pan, and Etsuko almost never does any toasting since she moved from Japan. “I wish I had a ‘goma-iri here’ … it smells so good!” she said.

Both women grind their own sesame seeds and own a “suribachi” and “kogi” (mortar and pestle). Patti also has a Western-style set, which she uses for other preparations.

Patti gets lyrical when she talks about fresh “wasabi”: “It sends out a memory retrieval that activates my salivary glands.”

Etsuko’s parents live in Nagano. “There’s a ‘wasabi’ field there, so when I go home, I definitely take advantage using fresh ‘wasabi’ for soba.”

Reading “Cool Tools” brought back memories of my own first experience with Japanese food some 25 years ago, and it wasn’t sushi that came to mind, but the yin and yang of macrobiotic cuisine. Back then, I was puzzled by the hardness of the smoked and dried skipjack tuna, wondering how to grate the fish, unaware of the existence of a “katsuo kezuriki,” the typical bonito plane.

Patti’s plane and bonito were from her grandfather’s hometown in Japan, an area known for the great variety of available fish. Etsuko is still looking for a bonito plane in Seattle, and hopes to find out where she can find one.

Etsuko as well as Patti use both American and Japanese-style pots such as “donabe and “sukyaki-nabe.” Patti uses hers for “nabemono” and tea. Neither owns a “yukihira-nabe” with the high-angled handle.

Asked about Japanese strainers, Etsuko said: “For some reason, I have many. Most are ‘zaru’ in different sizes and shapes. One that I really like is a very tiny one with a handle – it’s especially designed for melting and straining ‘miso’ for ‘miso’ soup.”

Patti’s number one favorite tool is a Japanese mandolin (shredder). “I have the tool [“yasai nukigata”] that punches shapes, and a scrubber, but the mandolin is heads above the rest. The second one I would consider is for shredding ginger. I would like to have that plastic thing that one can use to make ‘tsukemono.’”

Etsuko’s favorites are: “A tablespoon-size metal strainer for picking up tofu from ‘nabe,’ a lime squeezer, a ‘daikon’ “kezuri-ki” (grater), small plates with ginger grinder, long chopsticks, garlic peeler, cast iron pan for ‘tako-yaki.’ And maybe more…”

My favorite utensil is a wooden spoon, worn out on one side from right hand stirring; a reliable pan is an old cast-iron hand-me-down, good for toasting, sautéing and frying. I start each day filling my tiny Revere Ware teakettle.

What are your kitchen favorites?

Author Kate Klippensteen’s latest is really a memoir and a love story. The romance started years before her birth, with her parents’ two-year stay in Japan. Later on, they instilled their appreciation for the esthetics and food of the Land of the Rising Sun in their children as if by osmosis.

Raised in America, but surrounded by Japanese life-style elements, Kate Klippensteen acquired a taste for everything Japanese. It may not have come as a surprise when one of her majors in college turned out to be Japanese (the other was German).

After graduating in 1986, Klippensteen left for Japan, where she became a food and restaurant critic for Japanese editions of magazines such as Playboy, Esquire and Marie Claire.

A collector of cool tools herself (she remembers enjoying visits to the hardware store with her father), she showed some favorites — among which a crane and a turtle shaped, and a sharkskin “wasabi” grater— during a demonstration at Kobo at Higo this summer.

She did, however, not use any of the utensils in her collection.

“As a critic, I always ate out in the world’s most tasty city,” she says.

It wasn’t until she was writing an article for Elle eight years ago that she became interested in cooking Japanese dishes herself. This personal involvement colors Klippensteen’s perception. She testifies wholeheartedly for the use of natural material, handcrafted utensils – for cooking rice in a pan rather than an electric cooker.

In the chapter on presentation, Klippensteen states: “Japanese cuisine is meant to appeal to the five senses.”

The author deftly succeeds in re-creating the sensory experience she wishes to share with her readers.

Where she lets chefs speak for themselves, you can “hear” the passion in their “voices.”

The representation of Klippensteen’s neighbors’ favorite kitchenware adds a mundane and humoristic touch to the pages.

While not a cookbook per definition, “Cool Tools” is clearly geared toward sharing fascinating and helpful information on preparation, cooking, presentation and cleaning up, with cooks of all levels — from the bashful beginner to the professional chef.

Klippensteen is generous to a fault in sharing the muses and suppliers who were of great importance in the making of this book. You’ll find names and addresses in chapters on “Stocking your Kitchen” and “Restaurants and Shops.” All photographed items are listed clearly as well, a good way to learn the jargon.

Bollywood is the epicenter of the thriving South Asian film industry. India’s answer to Hollywood, Bollywood films already show the elements of a musical: song and dance. But Bollywood films offer more than that; they are extravaganzas complete with comedy and daredevil thrills. The plots are usually melodramatic and frequently employ familiar story lines: star-crossed lovers, angry meddling parents, love triangles and conniving villains.

“Bombay Dreams” tells the story of Akaash (Sachin Bhatt – known for The Asian/European tour of “West Side Story” and “Aida” at the Gateway Playhouse), a handsome young tour guide from the slums of Bombay who dreams of becoming the next Bollywood star, the object of his desire Priya (Reshma Shetty – known for “West Side Story,” “La Boheme,” “Don Giovanni”) and all the complications that arise when Akaash faces fame, fortune, and the obligations to his family, friends and Paradise slum.

The plot includes frequent reference to the city’s change of name from Bombay to Mumbai, as well as the accompanying identity issues. This musical journey within “Bombay Dreams” is an exploration of the importance of cultural heritage, the price of success, the bonds of friendship and the power of true love.

The original show (with lyrics by Don Black and plot by Meera Syal) ran in London from June 2002 through June 2004. For the eight-month Broadway run, the “book” of the musical was rewritten, many songs were cut and other songs added. The musical has received three Tony Nominations for Costume Design, Choreography and Orchestrations.

For the road show, the musical experienced another makeover, all with the intent to make the material more accessible. Before each performance, audiences are treated to a half hour of Bollywood culture and trivia on the big screen.

For cast member Diane Angela Fong, “Bombay Dreams” made one of her own dreams come true. A dancer from early childhood on, she had just graduated from UC Berkeley with degrees in molecular cell biology and theatre, dance and performance studies, and had started working with a Mohs surgeon when she was asked to audition for the musical. Going on tour was a wonderful experience.

“The cast and crew have become like family to me,” Fong said. “I’ve made so many lifelong friends in this show, they’ve made this tour an enjoyable and unforgettable experience.”

So much so, that for now she’ll put her other dream, to become a pediatrician, on the back burner to pursue a career in the theatre.

The musical’s lush score, glittering costumes and exotic dance numbers will be right at home at The 5th Avenue Theatre. The lavish sets include a giant fountain that drenches the cast in a spectacular “Hollywood of Old” manner.

“The fountain is as integral to the show as the chandelier in “The Phantom” [of the Opera]. There must be a wet sari scene in every Bollywood movie,” says Nick Manos, Atlanta’s Theater of the Stars managing director and producer for the tour. “Bombay Dreams” is all about spectacle, charisma, color and choreography, a must see for the whole family.

“If it were a movie, it would probably be rated PG,” Manos says. “There are some mature themes in the show, some course language and suggestive situations that are not intended for young audiences. A reasonable comparison would be ‘West Side Story.’”

“Bombay Dreams” performances are Sept. 12 – Oct. 1. Tickets: (206) 625-1900, (888) 5TH-4TIX, or visit: www.5thavenue.org.

Carr reminisced about how the first week his store was open, a woman entered and disappeared into the biography section, returning with a 12-inch pile of costly books. Leaving her name, she said she would go out for lunch and return to pick them up later. Carr rushed out to ask Ishii if he knew the lady and whether she was for real. Ishii had said she was one of the richest people in town and happened to like books. He assured Carr that she would return and buy that pile. That’s how their collegial relationship started.

Gathering from anecdotes, Ishii has often surprised his patrons with unexpected actions.

“One time a Scandinavian lady spent the night in the store after David, not knowing she was still on the mezzanine, locked up,” said Alan Lau, poet and arts editor of the International Examiner.

On the last day of his reign in Pioneer Square, Ishii approached his “empty” store from the grand hall, rather than the street. He stood still for a moment, surprised by the crowd, perhaps wondering whether he could still turn around, unseen. But a murmur, “He’s here,” made everyone turn his way. Ishii gracefully said, “Thank you all for coming.”

Shawn Wong, author and professor of English at the University of Washington, acted as Master of Ceremony, introducing the first speaker, antiquarian bookseller and neighbor Michael Lieberman, who read out loud King County Executive Ron Sims’ proclamation that Dec. 31, 2005 had been declared David Ishii Day.

Many speakers followed, among whom Don Glober, “who now has all the books.”

Fellow Seattle Mariners lovers remembered how the bookseller sometimes had free tickets to give away.

Lau made messages — from folks who couldn’t attend — sound like poems, some actually were. And while all this was going on, the answering machine recorded the voice of a woman who wanted a certain book.

Not only did Ishii sell books, he appeared in at least one, that is, “Gunga Din Highway.” Author Frank Chin based a fictional character, Milton Shiro, on the man whose bookstore for 32 years was a meeting place for readers, artists, authors, activists and baseball and fishing fans.

On Sunday, Jan. 29 at 3 p.m., you’ll have a chance to see Ishii as he appears on the big screen in Doug Ing’s “David Ishii Bookseller” and in Curtis Choy’s, “What’s wrong with Frank Chin?” These two films will be presented back to back during the Northwest Asian American Film Festival. Choy and Chin are scheduled to attend this Seattle screening.

Doug Ing’s three-minute documentary “David Ishii Bookseller,” with Ishii and Frank Chin, was produced in 2002 by “New Voices,” a master documentary series, in connection with 911 Media Arts Center and KCTS 9 PBS Seattle. Shot on miniDV, the short film has been presented at various film festivals as a 35MM print.

Curtis Choy’s 97-minute documentary “What’s wrong with Frank Chin?” features Frank Chin (activist, author, as well as founder of San Francisco’s Asian-American Theatre Workshop) with Pacific Northwest locals, Ishii, Lau, Wong, Frank Abe, Janis Chan, Jeffery Chan, King-Kok Cheung, Lawson Inada, Elaine Kim, Mako, Spencer Nakasako, Ishmael Reed, George Takei and Jessica Yu.

Curtis Choy wore possibly every hat during the making of this documentary — producer, director, editor, writer — with good results. The film was awarded the “NAATA San Francisco International Asian American Film Festival’s Best Documentary Feature Award.”

Speakers at Ishii’s surprise goodbye party expressed their hope that the retired bookseller would discover new pursuits in his free time. Going to movies during the day may be one.

The Northwest Asian American Film Festival takes place Jan. 26-29. The above highlighted films will be shown at the Theatre Off Jackson, 409 7th Ave. S. (next to the Wing Luke Asian Museum).

A limited number of first-come-first-serve tickets are available at (800) 838-3006. $7 general admission, $5 for students and seniors.

Directors and producers, as well as participants, may be present at a reception following the presentation of the two documentary films.

For a complete program, rates, times and venues of the Northwest Asian American Film Festival see the International Examiner’s insert or visit www.nwaaff.org/festivals/index.html.

Messages to David Ishii …
Call Me Ishii (not Ishmael)

David — no, not the fig-leafed statue
Replicated a million times in cheesy plaster of paris
Or the rich one with the Rockefeller surname

Or is it King David, or the musician David B.,
Maybe some other illustrious Dave?

But it’s David Ishii, the bookseller of Asian America
A small world to be sure full of brown and yellow
Writers on their lap tops making sense of the senseless
Or making senseless of what made some sense before

Ishii, the proprietor, the purviewer, the purloiner
Of the WORD, the BOOK, the EXTINCT TRIBE
Of lost Asian Americans, and, sans David

He is Ishii, the last man in the last wilderness.
He wanders among insane & lyrical
Words yet to be born.

- Russell Leong

It’s fun to imagine all the delightful pursuits you will discover with the glorious free time retirement brings … that is, delightful pursuits in addition to the amazingly rich collection of subjects you already master (baseball, history, opera, cuisine, dogs, law, politics, art, books, friendship … the list goes on and on). Way to go, David! Have a wonderful time! We’re all excited that you’ll be spending some of your travel time with us this Spring in Arizona.

- With great big smiles and lots of love,
Paige Murphy-Young
Mel
Dakota
Keili
(and not forgetting your loyal buddies, Soup and Aduke)
Tempe, AZ

We are sorry we will be unable to attend the party on Saturday. It should certainly be a wonderful celebration for a very dear man.

David Comstock would like to contribute his first association with David Ishii. It was when they were on the planning committee for the first Seattle Antiquarian Bookfair held at the Georgian Room at the Olympic Hotel in 1978.

Most enjoyable were dinner and drinks afterward to the tune of many good book stories. David Ishii is one of the nicest people and his store (with him present) will be greatly missed.

- Anita Comstock of COMSTOCK’S BOOK STORE

Ms. Mei-Ling Dai, and her son Tony Dai were officially welcomed by, among others, Seattle City Council President, Jan Drago, who mentioned in her opening speech that you don’t have to be an academic to enjoy art.

Sponsors, local and foreign officials, as well as VIPs from the Chinese American community were honored, then invited to hold and cut the ribbon that gave access to the show.

In a large group show, balance is not always guaranteed, either in quality or attraction. The work of some artists may speak to you, while work by others doesn’t touch you at all. The paintings in the exhibit at the Grand Hyatt Hotel cover a period of time stretching from late 19th to mid/late 20th century. The variety of artists give viewers a good chance to compare and find something to their personal liking.

Sometimes it’s the mere use of color that speaks to you, as may have been the case with the vivid blue background in a painting by Yu Feiang (1888-1959). Many of the pieces in the exhibit were truly traditional in approach, some, such as a painting by Liu Haisu (1896-1994), executed in bold colors and brush strokes, showed the influence of Western abstract art.

A 19th Century painting by female artist You Xiaoyun — on display in a corner, without a spotlight — made Jeffrey Parker, Consul General of Canada, express his surprise the piece hadn’t found a home in a gallery or museum.

Particularly interesting was a collaborative piece by Wang Xuetao (1903-1982) and Yu Zhizlen (1915-), in which a colorful rooster, his feathers and expression outlined as clear as the lines in a wood cut, is juxtaposed against a sullen colored background, where delicate crickets hide in subtle brushstrokes.

A painting by Jiyou Liu (1918-1983) of a maiden riding an ox showed an odd — perhaps European — sentimental value, not seen in any of the other paintings.

Tony Dai, who prides himself to be an expert of traditional Chinese art, provided comprehensive information about each piece in his collection. Guiding Drago and Maria Koh through the exhibition on Sunday, he explained that in Chinese paintings there’s always (spiritual) meaning behind the detail; artists put their hearts in a landscape.

Thanks to the Dai family bringing the show to Seattle and Mr. Dai’s seminars in Chinese Art Collecting and Investing some of the visitors may have come away with renewed interest in their family heirlooms, or will now start their own collections.

The Lo sisters, born to Chinese immigrant parents in the United States, continue playing Mahjong, passing on the rules of the game in their own community — Ginnie in Eugene, Ore., with her husband, her children, and her mother who lives next door; Beth in Missoula, Montana, with her husband, son, and Chinese cousin who lives up the valley.