Tag Archives: photographs

Art, Children, Family, Kids, Nisei, Photography

Passing the Baton

February 9, 2014 Mustang.Koji 42 Comments

20140208_171502 — My twelve year old son Jack at the Seal Beach Pier. He just began taking pictures at this time and I wanted to capture that moment. I guess that’s the photographer in me.

With all the researching, translating and documenting I’ve done on our family history during the past several years, I’ve come to the realization I was living in the past. And as time marched by, I wanted more time…but now, that time has gone.

I reflected on the near future; in the past month, things have changed. Things that cannot be undone. And I realized, too, that in addition to passing on what I’ve learned about our family history through these blogs, I need to pass the baton on as well for tomorrow. Small things.

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For as long as I can remember, I’ve held a camera in my hand… from the time I was perhaps eight years old. I vividly recall looking down on the ground glass of my dad’s Rolleiflex TLR. And I know it was my grandmother or aunt who sent me a “Fujipet” 120 film camera from Japan as a gift. It had a plastic lens. There were two levers, one on either side of the lens; you pressed one down with your left finger to cock the shutter. Then with your right finger, you pressed the other lever “to take the shot”. I took a bazillion shots during our 1964 road trip to Chicago and burned through a lot of 120 film. I don’t think mom was too happy.

image0-109b — I’m in the center; dangling from my neck is the Fujipet 120 film camera. The “model” on the left is my cousin Jane. Chicago, circa 1964.

When I was twelve, I spent a summer in Tokyo; I was born there. My Aunt Eiko got me my first “real” camera: a Canon Demi-S. It shot 35mm film but in “half-frame”. In other words, if you had a 36-shot roll of film, you would get 72 shots – plus about four or five more at the end. I loved it. It even had a built in light meter, a soft case and a wrist strap. It went everywhere I went. I even bought yellow and red filters. I used it to take photos of the TV set when Armstrong landed walked on the moon…but none of the images came out because I wanted to use my new fancy-schmancy electric strobe with a DC cord. I got great pictures of our RCA color TV, though. LOTS of great pictures of our TV set. But on one – just one – you can BARELY make out Armstrong as he stepped of the Lunar Module.

While I did take one class in photography, everything else was self-taught through the years. Trial and error. That means lots of moolah down the drain…literally. I had a full darkroom in my parent’s house at one time. I must have developed and processed over a thousand rolls and printed thousands of pictures. While I did win a few contests in sports photography, I never learned the critical things that define a pro…like my bud Alan Miyatake (but I did best him in ONE contest. LOL).

Since becoming a young adult, I’ve always been the “photographer”… taking pictures at events, parties, of this and that… I don’t know if I was any good at it but people always seemed to ask me to take photos. Perhaps because I took them for free. But finally, I took snapshots at my own daughter’s wedding…and not someone else’s daughter for a change.

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As I was taking my kids back to their mother’s two weeks ago, my twelve year old son surprised me by asking if he can have a “real” camera. Totally out of the blue but I was happy. He wanted to take pictures like his old man.

So yesterday, we headed towards the nearby beach; he wanted to take pictures of the sunset! I handed him my (getting old) Canon DSLR and monopod and while in the car, I gave him a crash course on shutter speed, f/stops, and ISO.

But he asked, “But don’t you just push the button, Papa?”

So with temps in the high 50’s (cold for us here) and a chilling wind, I gave him some basic instructions and I left him pretty much alone.

He took on his own challenge.

Here are a few of his photos; sure, I edited them a bit but he did darn well for his first time.

Must be in his genes.

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As I watched Jack from a distance in that chilling wind, feelings of being alone and lament swirled. Sadness that time has surged by with tomorrows dwindling. It felt as if I was looking at myself… fifty years ago… with that Fujipet camera with a plastic lens dangling from my neck.

20140208_173952 — My son Jack must be thinking of his next shot…

I hope he continues. The family needs a photographer.

Family, Friends, History, Japan, Kids, Photography, Uncategorized

Obsession, Time and Retouching

November 4, 2012 Mustang.Koji 29 Comments

What an off-the-wall title.

But you have to be obsessed…when time is working against you.

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Faded Photos — A single page from my Grandmother’s precious photo album

Retouching faded or damaged family photographs can become a labor of love.

Perhaps the finished product is meaningless to people outside of your family. Maybe to some within your own family as well. But somehow, you become obsessed with it because in spite what others feel, you know in your heart it is important… and perhaps more important as the years roll by.

Family members come into this world, live, then pass on. How did they live? Where? What was it like “back then”?

That’s my mission. To leave hints of what it was like for my descendants as well as interested family.

To let others see what “they” looked like. How “they” smiled. How “they” grew up.

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The first snapshot above is but a page from my Grandmother Kono’s photo album.

Brittle pages. Photos that were lovingly pasted onto those pages by my Grandmother. Photos now eaten by insects. Faded. Damaged.

Now is the time. Restore and retouch. Hundreds of them. That’s the mission. Before all knowledge of their lives disappear.

They are disappearing today.

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Having but free software, the retouching being done is surely amateur. Basic at the best. I wish I could afford professional software but then again, there would be a tremendous learning curve. Make do with what you have…as “they” did.

And when you finish one photograph, you receive gifts. Gifts of seeing what would have been lost. Lost to their descendents forever.

Here is one example from that page:

Faded — (L to R) Suetaro, my dad, Aunt Shiz and an unknown friend. Circa 1923 at 620 S. King Street in Seattle, WA.

While the detail is surely not “lost”, it is hard to make out things. The print is small to begin with; a quarter was placed for size reference.

But after restoring and retouching, some fun things come into clearer view – especially if there is a companion print to compare with:

In another pose on the same album page, you can see both my dad and Suetaro were holding food in their hands and dad had a bandaged thumb. Here, after restoration, you can more clearly see the food but it blends into his bandaged thumb which would have been hard to separate. I’m pretty sure Dad is eating an “onigiri” or rice ball, likely wrapped in seaweed. Uncle Suetaro had already devoured his. Minor detail, yes. But now we have an idea of what Grandmother fed them in Seattle while growing up.

Aunt Shiz…well, it appears she would rather have been playing with her friend but we know she wore a uniform to school. And she has a hair clip. Berets for boys were in fashion, also, it seems. Funny as Dad doesn’t like to wear hats much. We also know that on that day, they wore very Western clothes…down to his overalls.

One barber pole is also different than the other. When dad saw this today, for some reason, he just proudly blurted out, “620 S. King Street”, and very happily. I think he was amazed at himself for remembering. But the confirmation of the address came from retouching the print. He also said, “That’s wood (referring to the sidewalk),” implying he doesn’t remember a wooden sidewalk. But I mentioned to him it was cement when you look at it carefully and he was happy that he wasn’t a “pumpkin head”.

From this retouched print, Dad also added one startling comment out of the blue. He said a number of “hakujin”, or Caucasians, came to the shop, even though it was in “Japanese Town”. I asked him why. His reply was, “I don’t know… but Japanese are more attentive, I guess, than the other barbers…especially in shaving.” I know what he means.

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So all this “stuff” came from retouching a faded photo… Things that would have been otherwise lost. Face it. Dad isn’t the little boy eating that onigiri anymore. But he still eats like a horse. A good sign. Aunt Shiz didn’t feel like eating much the day she quietly passed away.

Obsession and time.

And time is running out.