Hidemi-san
Elizabeth Morgan (Bronx High School of Science)
My connection to Japan is direct. It is visceral and practically umbilical. Once a week since I was five
years old, I have sat hip to hip with my piano teacher, Hidemi Kitajima. Hidemi is a mentor to me, and my
personal ambassador of Japanese culture. As Commodore Perry exposed Japan to Western Culture, Hidemi
has enlightened me with Eastern thought and culture. I have been raised exposed to her Eastern ideals,
which value perfection through hard work and practice.

Hidemi describes herself as upholding old fashion Japanese values. These ideas stem from an ancient
tradition of living with a highly structured society that emphasizes respect, honor, and discipline. The code
of the samurai, the bushido, stresses the following virtues: rectitude, courage, benevolence, respect, honor,
loyalty, honesty, filial piety, and wisdom. Hidemi is aware of how she behaves in society, and prefers to
deal formally with those that she feels deserve respect either because of age, social standing, or
accomplishments. Though she has adopted contemporary American fashion, she rejects more informal
manners of young Japanese as well as American youths who have no respect for tradition.

Hidemi’s teaching techniques incorporate the Japanese belief in a resilient mental strength. When I
played my first recital at the age of five, Hidemi made a list of things to do to prepare me for the
performance. The list included no sugar for one week before the performance, eat plenty of fish, get
sufficient sleep, and remain focused from first strike until the last note is played. Steeped in these
principles, her Japanese rigor demands focused practice. This technique is similar to the principles of
martial arts. This Japanese practice of fitness and self-defense encompasses meditation, mental discipline
and character development. It also encourages self-confidence. By applying Japanese elements of martial
arts to my music, I am able to master the complexities of Schubert.

In middle school, Hidemi wanted to share her culture with me; she took me to lunch at a Japanese
restaurant that offers the highest example of Japanese cuisine. The restaurant was decorated with traditional
Japanese art and artifacts. She pointed out the rice parchment lamps (washi), and lacquered (urushi) plates,
and described the process of how these items are made. Though simple shapes and patterns, these
adornments impressed me by their beautiful subtleties and perfect constructs. The fineness and beauty of
these crafts are the part of the Japanese culture embodied in Hidemi. She is not of the high-tech Japan
which produces complex equipment and leads the world in technological production for cutting edge audio-
video equipment, cameras, automobiles, and robotics.

While discussing Japanese architecture, Hidemi related how she brings tourists to the flashy Golden
Temple (Kinkaku-ji). Visitors are immediately impressed by the top two stories of this pavilion which are
covered in pure gold leaf. But in contrast, Hidemi describes that the spiritual beauty of the Silver Pavilion
(Ginkaku-ji) is often lost to Western visitors. This Zen Buddhist sanctuary is not constructed of silver, but
the elements blend to make a peaceful and harmonious whole, it is a place for rest and solitude, far
removed from the hustle and bustle of New York City life. Behind the temple is a magnificent two part
garden made of rocks and sand. The temple stresses the importance the Japanese put on peace and
harmony. I think Hidemi’s nature is similar in beauty to that of the Silver Pavilion; it is a bit like a Japanese
secret. But someday I would like to experience both pavilions in person.

Embodied in Hidemi is the ideal of total health in body, spirit and mind. She is well versed in
traditional Japanese exercise and massage. Hidemi has helped my mother with her arthritis by teaching her
Tai Kyoku Ken. Her exercises stress slow movements executed in a harmonious way to maintain joint
flexibility. If my fingers are cold, she will rub them to increase circulation, focusing on specific pressure
points. She has learned these healing techniques from her grandmother and shares them with me.

Hidemi is an international concert pianist. Her piano playing reveals aspects of her Japanese culture as
well as what she has adopted of American culture. Japan reminds me of my petite, talented and wonderful
piano teacher. Her Japanese spirit fills our home whenever she comes. She is a true blend of traditional
Japanese virtues as well as contemporary style. I am fortunate to have had the benefit of her instruction and
this special cultural exposure.

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Becoming the Universe: Zen in Japanese
Culture Lauren Phillips (Stony Brook University)
Japan is a country often characterized in two distinct ways: mythical and seeped with tradition or a
high-speed technological powerhouse. It is therefore difficult sometimes to see a common feature between
Japan of old and modern day Japan; however, the spirit of Japan is still alive and thriving. This spirit is
found within the philosophy of Zen from the Zen Buddhism religion of Japan. While not all the citizens
identify themselves as Zen Buddhists, this philosophy is still present throughout their lives.

The spirit of Japan is actually one from a surprising origin. It was not originally from Japan, but was
rather introduced to Japan by Chinese Zen Buddhist monks. Even though the philosophy is not purely
Japanese bred, the people of Japan have taken the concept and formed it into their own, uniquely Japanese
philosophy. Zen is the practice which gives one the discipline to destroy self, or more simply put, to destroy
any desires, in order to create empty self. Once a person has reached empty self, he or she is enlightened
and becomes a Buddha. In order to reach this state, one must practice sabi and wabi. Sabi essentially means
loneliness, though not in the sense of how westerners interpret the word. In this case, loneliness is time by
oneself wherein one reflects upon oneself and anything that individual can think of is not the person and
therefore must be destroyed in order to reach enlightenment. This refers to thoughts such as fame and the
desire for fame must be destroyed; otherwise, the attachment to this goal would prevent one from achieving
empty self. Wabi deals with an appreciation of poverty. In this ideal one is not dependent on worldly things
and wants for nothing, for anything one could want, one already has. This concept of Zen Buddhism
instructs one to appreciate what is around oneself. The concept of Zen may sound a little intangible, and
may initially seem that to have no application outside of someone studiously practicing Zen Buddhism;
however, this is not at all true. Within Japan, the concept of Zen has infiltrated every part of the culture.

The presence of Zen is most obvious in the arts of Japan. While growing up I would wonder about the
Japanese style of art. Since I was thinking in a European influenced mind set, I was unable to truly grasp
what the art of Japan was expressing. I knew it was beautiful, but the truth it conveyed always eluded me,
and instead settled on the corners of my mind, just out of reach of understanding. When other countries,
particularly those of the west, create a piece of pottery they glorify it if it is perfect. The piece must be
perfectly glazed, and perfectly crafted with no change in thickness and possessing a uniform shape. In
opposition, the great artisans of Japan often will purposely make an imperfection in the pottery, such as
inconsistent thickness or a deliberate mistake in shape, for when a piece has rustic unpretentiousness or
antiquated imperfections it is said to contain sabi and is therefore a true piece of artwork.

The concept of art also differs with paintings between western countries and Japan. Unlike the
paintings of western countries, which cover the entire canvas in paint, the Japanese employ a one corner
style of painting. Only one corner of the canvas actually has paint on it while the rest remains clean. If one
discards this empty space when viewing the painting, one misses the entire point of the painting itself. The
blank void in this case represents the abyss which encompasses the universe. Though a bird on a branch
may be painted in the corner and nothing else is painted, the world still exists beyond that bird. This world
beyond the single subject of the painting is the universe itself, making the blank area of canvas just as
important as the painted subject. This minimalist style to art is also present in the traditional Japanese
poetry of haiku. Many westerners are incapable of understanding the significance of haikus when they are
initially introduced to them, and I must admit that I, too, was confused by the style. With only seventeen
syllables used, it would seem as though nothing of great importance could possibly be expressed. However,
haikus are not saturated with description in order to leave room for the unknown, for without the unknown
no art exists, just as with the one corner paintings. In truth, the haikus in their short meter express
something of the utmost importance; it is an expression of temporary enlightenment wherein one sees into
the life of things.

While studying haiku this past fall, I was struck with a shocking realization. The moment of
temporary enlightenment, the Zen utterance, I had experienced once before. When I was fifteen, my mother
would still drive me occasionally to my high school. One day as I walked from the parking lot towards the
building, something shimmering caught my attention. It was spring then and as it often does it had rained
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