Growing up in a Japanese American Buddhist household, Shirley celebrated Christmas and Easter without initially understanding their religious roots. “For a long time, I never knew these holidays were based in Christian religion,” she explains.

“After studying Japanese American history, I realized that, because most of the people in my community’s parents and grandparents were put in prison during World War II, they came out with this feeling of having to prove that they were loyal Americans. It didn’t matter what American tradition it was—they would follow it. So we did Christmas, we did Easter, and also went to Buddhist church.”

While Christmas was embraced in Shirley’s family, she notes that New Year’s is the most significant event at the end of the year in Japanese tradition. Shirley recounts the flurry of activity in her family’s kitchen: “After Christmas, we would hustle to get all the ingredients for the New Year’s foods and make sure we had everything we wanted. Cooking was a big thing for us just before January 1.”

“New Year’s is the big time—cleaning the house, paying all your bills, cooking all these foods, getting ready for New Year’s Day. All these New Year’s foods have various nuances, like good luck or seeing into the future. The food was—of course—delicious and beautiful, but it all had meaning to it too.”

One dish that holds special meaning for Shirley is renkon sunomono, a salad made with lotus root marinated in rice vinegar, sugar, and ginger. “It’s iconic to the village my dad’s family came from, Iwakuni. There’s a family history about a farmer who developed a special way of cultivating food there, including the renkon (lotus root). That’s very special to my dad’s family, so I try to make it every year.”

She also prepares nishime, a hearty winter stew, and kuromame, black beans often associated with good luck.

“Once, I was talking to my sister-in-law from Georgia, and she said they eat black-eyed peas for New Year’s. I thought, ‘Oh, that’s kind of the same!’ There’s something about black beans that seems to be some kind of good luck dish for New Year’s,” she reflects.In addition to food, Shirley incorporates symbolic decorations for the New Year. “Next year is the year of the snake, so I’ll put up a small display of that animal, along with shōchikubai—bamboo, pine, and plum, which are supposed to bring good luck. Some people also put up a broom to sweep away evil spirits. There’s a lot associated with New Year’s for good luck or seeing into the future.”

With Shirley’s Japanese roots, her husband’s Chinese heritage, and their shared Christian influences, the season is a rich tapestry of cultural customs. “We celebrate New Year’s twice—January 1 for Japanese New Year, and then Chinese New Year, which is on a different day each year. My husband is Christian, so we also celebrate Christmas with his family.”

While Shirley has adapted some traditions to suit her children’s tastes, she remains committed to keeping these customs alive. “New Year’s is mostly my responsibility to keep up the tradition,” she says.

In addition to being one of ACTA’s inaugural Taproot Fellows, Shirley received the Living Cultures Grant in 2023 and has participated in our Apprenticeship Program as a mentor artist four times. Happy holidays from all of us at ACTA!

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Fremont’s Anuradha Suresh, a classical musician and skilled harikatha performer, is a mentor in ACTA’s Apprenticeship Program, where she teaches Amritavarshini (Amrita, for short) the traditional South Indian art form. Harikatha combines storytelling, poetry, and Carnatic music, bringing to life tales from epics like the Mahabharata and Ramayana and creating a cultural bridge across generations.

For Anuradha’s family, who are Brahmins from Tamil Nadu, Diwali celebrations take the form of Naraka Chaturdashi, as in much of South India. Their celebrations begin early in the morning, gathering with family and performing sacred rituals symbolizing renewal and prosperity. Unlike the North Indian Diwali, which centers around evening festivities and fireworks, the Tamil tradition begins at dawn.

“We wake up at 3 AM, gather everyone’s new clothes, and come together in the living room,” Anuradha explains. 

Then, the family performs nalangu, a blessing ritual where they wipe their feet with a red paste made from lime and turmeric root; they also draw a line around their feet with kumkum paste. While anointing each person’s head with a drop of oil, Anuradha sings “Sri Rama Jaya Jaya,” a traditional song that her grandmother used to sing every Diwali. Afterward, everyone showers, dresses in new clothes, and shares a family breakfast of idli and chutney before visiting the temple and extended family, and lighting lamps to wish each other ‘Deepawali’ – another way of saying Diwali more common in South India.

“Sri Rama Jaya Jaya,” sung by Anuradha Suresh.

Central to Anuradha’s family’s celebration, and others who celebrate Naraka Chaturdashi, is the story of Narakasura. Narakasura was a powerful demon who terrorized the heavens, but he was ultimately defeated by Lord Krishna and his wife, Satyabhama. In this story, first told in the Sanskrit epic Mahabharata, Narakasura’s defeat symbolized the victory of light over darkness. After his death, Bhumi (Mother Earth) requested that her son Narakasura be remembered not with sorrow but with joy, inspiring South Indian families to celebrate the day with new clothes, sweets, and festive gatherings.

 “Diwali is about honoring our heritage, sharing stories, and celebrating together as a family,” reflects Anuradha.

Diwali’s significance varies widely across India. In North India, it’s a multi-day festival with Choti and Badi Diwali, centering around Lakshmi Puja, where families pray to the goddess of wealth. In contrast, many southern states do not traditionally celebrate Diwali, or otherwise recognize it as Naraka Chaturdashi.

For Anuradha’s apprentice Amrita, this cultural heritage is still somewhat new. Her family has roots in both Tamil Nadu and Kerala, but growing up, Diwali wasn’t celebrated in the Keralan side of the family.

“To me, Diwali (the Festival of Lights) is a symbolism of light taking over the darkness, in the shape of our family and friends,” shares Amrita.

Now, with Diwali’s growing global reach, Amrita is not only learning about her Tamilian family’s Diwali customs but also connecting them with her Keralan heritage.

For Amrita’s apprenticeship, Anuradha teaches Amrita about the storytelling tradition of harikatha. Many of the stories featured in their performances come from Sanskit epics like the Mahabharata and Ramayana, just like the stories central to Diwali. A harikatha performance during Diwali would typically tell the story of Narakasura’s defeat. However, modern harikatha performances can cover topics relevant to anyone or any time, from social issues to climate change.

Anuradha began her formal harikatha training only six years ago, with Sangitha Kalanidhi (an honor and title bestowed on an exemplary Carnatic musician) Sri T. N. Seshagopalan. However, she has been teaching carnatic music in Fremont for three decades, and is a long-time devotee of puranas (ancient Indian texts). While growing up, she used to listen to discourses on puranas intertwined with Carnatic music. She sought a mentor several years ago in the Bay Area to begin teaching her the ancient South Indian classical form, acting on her deep fondness for bringing these ancient tales to life.

“I love knowing the stories behind the compositions,” Anuradha shares.

As Diwali becomes celebrated more widely, Anuradha notes that the festival’s essence remains intact even as traditions evolve. Whether it’s celebrated as Naraka Chaturdashi or referred to as Deepawali, the celebration brings people together in shared joy, remembrance, and renewal, connecting the past to the present — much like the art of harikatha itself.

The post Celebrating Diwali with Anuradha Suresh and Amritavarshini Gunasekaran appeared first on Alliance for California Traditional Arts.

Lu Lee’s daughter Chue describes the traditional piece made by Lu’s sister so that they can find each other in the afterlife. Video: Betty Marín/ACTA, 2024.

As a part of the traditional art and community design studio Culture through Cloth, in partnership with Hmong Youth & Parents United (HYPU), a previous Living Cultures grantee, paj ntaub maker and educator Pachia Vang is working directly with elder artisan Lu Lee (“Auntie Lu”) to organize a series of paj ntaub or HMong (Hmong and Mong) embroidery workshops since January of this year.

Pachia met Auntie Lu, as she is affectionately known amongst her students, through her coordination of senior programming at the center and learned about her embroidery work. The workshops have been an opportunity to create a multigenerational space centering HMong knowledge, language, and artistry.

I had the privilege of observing and learning from various participants, many of them describing excitement about reconnecting with a traditional art form that they had first encountered as children, but had come to value more fully later in life. The workshop provided a warm welcoming space to learn or relearn the practice, be creative and connect personally. 

Sue Cha described the pride of being able to create embroidery work with her own two hands, and through the process, gain a deeper appreciation of the care and intricate labor needed to create dresses used for different cultural purposes, including major life events like weddings, funerals, and other celebrations. 

A few men and boys were sprinkled into the space, accompanying their wives, partners and children. Chue Cha, Lu Lee’s daughter is deepening her paj ntaub practice from her mother and also taking the opportunity to share this tradition with her son. While the tradition is typically practiced by women, the workshops have provided an open space where boys and men can learn and observe as well.

She has experienced her mom come to life working with multiple generations including her own offspring.  Chue describes:

I get to see her in a new light, separate from being just my mom or my children’s grandma and it’s given her a renewed passion for her art.”

Lu Lee shared about learning the tradition from her sister, who has now passed. She cherishes the embroidered piece her sister created for her and is grateful to be passing on the tradition to others both inside and outside her family. 

Pachia saw an opportunity to cherish and invest in elder artisans like Lu Lee, and is thrilled with the response and lively participation and commitment she has seen from many of the participants. Along with facilitating the workshops with Auntie Lu, she is learning and experimenting alongside other students.

The interest in our workshops has been really encouraging. It shows how important preserving paj ntaub traditions is to the community. I’m excited to continue providing a space for people to learn about HMong culture through cloth,” shared Pachia.

These workshops showed the power of dedicating space, time, and resources towards learning in a traditional way: in community by literally creating circles of sharing, listening, observing and practicing, centered around elder knowledge. The joy in the work was palpable through conversations, laughter, smiles, and mistakes. It was clear that through the practice, both new and more experienced makers were strengthening their ties to each other, their cultural identity, and thus the broader HMong community.

Video: Sue Cha describes how the tradition is passed on and her excitement to create her own piece. Video: Betty Marín/ACTA, 2024.

Culture Through Cloth is a 2023 Living Culture grantee. The Living Cultures Grant Program is generously supported by the California Arts Council, a state agency, with additional support from William & Flora Hewlett Foundation and the Walter and Elise Haas Fund.

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Last year, Mary recorded a studio session for Decibel Studios, with collaborator, and 2018 ACTA Apprenticeship mentor artist, Jesus Martinez:

ACTA: Tell us about the songs you shared for the Breakfast Table Session. What meaning does it hold for you to record and perform these songs?

Mary Alfaro Velasco: I chose to perform songs from the mariachi and bolero tradition that have inspired me throughout my career in music. This session video was slated to go live during Pride Month, so I wanted to interpret songs from artists that have historically had a large queer following and also re-interpret existing songs so that they followed a queer narrative.

The song we opened with was “La Cigarra.” Linda Ronstadt recorded this huapango which was included in her album Canciones de Mi Padre. That album inspired a generation of mariachis, myself included. When I first heard that song, I felt that I needed to learn about ranchera music and wanted to learn to play mariachi guitar.

“Tú Lo Decidiste” is the next song on the video. It’s a piece written by Ana Gabriel, a Mexican singer-songwriter who has been an icon to many queer Latine folks, especially gay Latinas. I changed the gendered pronouns in the lyrics so that the piece is about two women.

My bandmates and I followed with “Para Qué Sufrir,” a piece written by Natalia Lafourcade for her album Hasta La Raiz. That album blew my mind in terms of song-writing, production, instrumentation, and emotion. It’s a great break-up album. It came out when I was processing the dissolution of a relationship with my first lady-love and it provided solace at the time. “Para Qué Sufrir” is about coming to peace when processing the end of a relationship. Natalia Lafourcade wrote such incredible songs for that album. Hasta La Raíz inspired me to write about my personal journey, to write songs and and re-interpret classic boleros in order to tell a story about gay lady love while addressing unique challenges many queer people have faced along our journeys.

I’ve released a few cover songs for my album and am working on the next batch of music. Gratitude to my bandmates featured in this video that have helped me along this musical journey and who have been such great allies: Jesús Martínez, Ramón “Ray” Gudiño, Ismael “Ish” Pineda and Guillermo “Willie” Acuña.

Follow along with Mary’s songwriting process via her Instagram feed and see her work with the bolero music collective Voz Bohemia and her newly-formed trío romántico Los Angelenos. Her music is available on streaming platforms including Spotify, Apple Music, and YouTube.

Read “Queering the Bolero,” an interview with Mary Alfaro from 2020 →

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When I was a child, I loved asking my parents and grandparents about their migration stories.

Following the Communist Revolution in China, my father’s family journeyed to Hong Kong (a British colony at the time, in the 1950s), to Canada, to Texas, and to California. My mother’s family, spurred by the same event, traveled to Taiwan, to Brazil, and then to the United States, where they too eventually settled in California. It was here, in Santa Clara County, that I was born and raised, hungry to understand what it means to be Chinese and American while feeling only loosely tethered to both identities. By hearing my family’s stories, I learned which aspects of identity informed by place have remained with us, which we have left behind, and why. I also came to appreciate the sacrifices my family made, and the risks they took, in order for my siblings and I to grow up American.

At the same time, listening to my parents’ and grandparents’ experiences filled me with a passion for stories and cross-cultural understanding which have remained with me into my university years. As an undergraduate student, I developed an interest in anthropology, the study of culture. In pursuing anthropology, I heard of folklore, a similar field which focuses on everyday creative practices shared within communities, particularly those which have been historically marginalized. The concept of folklore resonated deeply with me, and I eventually applied to pursue a Master’s of Arts in Folklore at Memorial University of Newfoundland in Canada. My hope is to someday engage in creating contexts where people can hear one another’s stories and come to appreciate and empathize with each other, just as my family’s stories helped me better understand them.

So, while pursuing my degree, I chose to focus on public sector work: the application of theories from the study of folklore beyond scholarly circles, in everyday life. In my coursework and internships I am learning to support communities in maintaining and sharing their traditions and cultures. As part of my program, I have worked for the past 6 months as the Alliance for California Traditional Arts’ (ACTA) Public Folklore Practices Intern! During this time, I contributed to field scans about regions and cities across the country for the National Endowment for the Arts’ National Folklife Network initiative (NFN). I also assisted with Sounds of California, La Cultura Cura, and a few communications projects. My experiences at ACTA have shown me the importance of relationship-building and improvisation in public folklore work. Additionally, through my internship with ACTA, I have been filled with wonder observing the ways in which artistic and cultural expression connect to identity—both for individuals and communities.

At my university, I studied the ethical need for folklorists to build relationships with the people they research. Working on the NFN helped me see the importance of this in a real-world setting. Through interviews for the project, I heard how investment in communities is essential for building trust and familiarizing with their particular experiences, communication styles, needs, and strengths. Only with intimacy can programming be truly effective and responsive to specific communities. While there were so many interviewees rooted in their communities, some which come to mind from more recent conversations are: Comunidad Maya Pixan Ixim in Omaha, Nebraska; Greenwood Cultural Center in Tulsa, Oklahoma; the Indigenous Community Center in Lawrence, Kansas; and the Iowa Asian Alliance in Des Moines, Iowa. Each of these are born out of and deeply embedded within the communities they serve; thus, each has been able to take vast strides toward the empowerment of the people they love. I believe that public folklorists have much to learn about what it means to impactfully advance community well-being from what has been achieved by organizations such as these.

Through my internship with ACTA, I have been filled with wonder observing the ways in which artistic and cultural expression connect to identity—both for individuals and communities.

Another lesson from my university is that nothing ever goes exactly to plan; improvisation and flexibility are important and even beneficial in public folklore. During NFN interviews, my colleagues and I always had lists of questions prepared, but we often set them aside to follow conversations where interviewees led them. By doing so, we gained richer insights into topics which we would not have known to explore had we remained rigid in what we asked. For example, in many interviews for the NFN where we spoke with groups of cultural organizers, ACTA Program Manager Lily Kharrazi would listen carefully to each interviewee and then ask a single question which would link all of their insights. “I noticed a theme in what all of you are saying,” she would start, and then ask something such as: “What does having a safe space to gather mean for your communities?” Her questions arose so organically from the interviews; they were unplanned, and they always helped the ACTA team better understand the social conditions in which our interviewees were operating. I also observed the benefits of improvisation while acting as Zoom technician during La Cultura Cura, when both I and a teaching artist lost internet connection for a moment. Though I was nervous, my supervisor, ACTA Program Manager Betty Marín, was unphased. She quickly took over my role and provided visuals for that week’s cultural workshop. I hope I can bring Lily’s insightful listening and Betty’s cool-headed improvisation with me into future projects.

Finally, my internship with ACTA has grown my awe of how creative and cultural expressions work upon people and communities. One of my projects was inventorying media files from Sounds of California: Bayview (2018) and identifying themes attached to them, in preparation for the incorporation of the project into ACTA’s new Sounds of California microsite. I had the pleasure of reviewing audio and photographs from the Sounds of California in Bayview Concert, held in the historic Bayview Opera House of Bayview Hunters Point, San Francisco. The event featured Rhodessa Jones as host; visual art by Malik Seneferu; a film about the history of the neighborhood by Tumani Onabiyi; and performances by San Francisco-based musicians: Omnira Institute’s Awon Ohun Omnira Choir; Au Co Vietnamese Cultural Center’s youth ensemble; mother-daughter duo Özden Öztoprak and Isik Berfin; and La Familia Peña-Govea, accompanied by Miguel Govea’s band students from Abraham Lincoln High School. The artists and performers demonstrated and discussed the beauty of diverse cultures: African American, West African, Vietnamese-American, Alevi-Kurdish, Chicanx, and Latinx more broadly. I also watched videos of interviews organized by Lily Kharrazi, Malik Seneferu, and Tumani Onabiyi, featuring nine residents of Bayview Hunters Point. The nine interviewees shared their memories of growing up in the historically Black neighborhood; their love for the visual art, martial arts, music, and sounds which permeate it; and their perspectives on changes experienced by the community due to gentrification.

As I watched and listened to media from Sounds of California: Bayview, I was struck by how both the performers and the interviewees described the impact of arts and culture upon their lives and identities. From songs to double dutch rhymes, and from jiu jitsu to murals, creative expressions are a link to people and places which transcends generations, carrying home and family across time and space. These cultural practices convey a person or a community’s true identity; thus, they are vessels for recreating, reclaiming, reshaping, and healing identity. And, by uncovering the true beauty and humanity of individuals and communities, arts and culture unify. They facilitate embracing others, whether that be nurturing admiration for unfamiliar traditions or building family out of a neighborhood. Even just hearing the interviewees’ and performers’ words, which to me are a form of cultural expression, I am filled with gratitude for the gift of them: a bit of each person’s self, grown out of time and places both near and far.

From songs to double dutch rhymes, and from jiu jitsu to murals, creative expressions are a link to people and places which transcends generations, carrying home and family across time and space.

I have a few more closing thoughts. I am thankful to have had the chance to work with ACTA’s staff, which is packed with insightful and caring people, dedicated to serving the communities around them. I am also grateful for the opportunities I had to learn from leaders in the folk and traditional arts sector throughout the United States, who are engaged in this same good work, with the same drive and heart for people and justice. I’ve been filled with the reassurance that incredible efforts are currently being made to support the array of communities and traditions thriving throughout California and the rest of the country. I have loved the past six months, and I am looking forward to seeing what ACTA does next. For now, I’m preparing for a flight northeast and a return to coursework. I will carry all that I have learned from ACTA about identity, intimacy, and improvisation with me, to my final semester and beyond.

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The festival this year was dedicated to her memory.  A traditional Lavagem is a spiritual cleansing ceremony dating back to the time in Salvador Bahia when Africans brought to Brazil as slaves were not allowed to attend Mass, but instead had to wash the steps of the church. Conceição brought the Lavagem observance to Berkeley that begins with a procession of devotees dressed in white, accompanied by drumming, and culminating in a blessing for world peace given by children from the local community. A street party follows with live music, dance performances, and capoeira. Food and craft vendors set up along the street and activities for children attract a diverse crowd of people. Many Brazilians in the area recognize the day as a unique cultural event. This was the kind of celebration that bridged secular and sacred worlds which Conceição was so adept in translating to others through her deep love for her culture, which she was evident in all she did and a constant refrain in her teaching.

ACTA support for BrasArte where Conceição taught classes and created community began with a Living Cultures grant in 2007 to support a cultural exchange with the Afro-Brazilian performance troupe Ilê Aiyê, best known for their efforts to “re-Africanize” Brazil’s celebrated Carnival. The company participated in performances, outreach activities with youth, and an appearance in the 2007 Carnival San Francisco that energized the local artists and contingents at the ever-popular event that draws close to half a million spectators to the Mission neighborhood each year to watch and dance along the with parade contingents.

Conceição’s last participation in Carnival San Francisco was in 2018, moving and waving from a decorated float, refusing to let her health keep her from the energy of the parade that she was so instrumental in shaping through her artistry. That same year Tainah Damasceno, her daughter, was crowned the queen of the parade. Tainah has since taken over for her mother as artistic director of BrasArte. Nick Harvey, Tainah’s father and Conce’s husband, will continue with other responsibilities for the non-profit. As is the case with traditional arts practices, the transmission from one generation to the next is often within families. Keeping Conce’s spirit alive as a family is buoyed by the community of practitioners that she helped to create through her devotion to the culture that she carried with her from Bahia to the Bay Area with affection and respect.

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We are grateful to Daria Chaikovsky, President of the Ukrainian Art Center (UAC) in the East Hollywood neighborhood of Los Angeles, who shared some moving thoughts on the many ways we can all contribute to the effort to bring relief to the people of Ukraine during this time.

Most immediately, UAC has partnered with the Ukrainian Culture Center to present a two-day Art Exhibit & Silent Auction Fundraiser culminating with a classical music concert this weekend. Seven professional artists are donating 100% of the proceeds from the Silent Art Auction. The members of the symphonic orchestra are donating their time and skills, and all ticket sale proceeds are designated for supporting people in Ukraine.

Tell us about the Ukrainian Art Center.

Daria

Based in Los Angeles, the Ukrainian Art Center (UAC) is a non-profit community organization. It was initiated in 1986 to preserve, promote and develop the Ukrainian arts. Its initial goals reflect its present plan to create a new Ukrainian Museum in Los Angeles and to develop cultural and educational programs, alongside festivals and exhibitions. The local city council and private patrons fund its activities including the annual Pysanka and Holiday Yalynka events, exhibitions, concerts and more, encouraging many diverse groups and individuals to explore the richness of Ukrainian Culture.

How can Californians best support relief efforts on the ground in Ukraine right now?

Daria

All people of conscience can and are supporting Ukraine through many non-profit charitable organizations such as NOVA UKRAINE – Humanitarian assistance USA organization, Revived Soldiers of Ukraine; Come Back Alive (Kyiv, Ukraine) non-profit; and the UNHCR refugee agency. Of course, both UAC and the Ukrainian Culture Center are fundraising fervently to assist in providing medical, humanitarian and refugee assistance.

Locally there is a newly formed organization #StandWithUkraine that has organized rallies throughout Southern California raising awareness of the dire situation in Ukraine with hundreds of non-Ukrainians joining in every location.

The support from the public is very emotional and the tide is moving toward city and county support where the Council Members voted a Resolution in Support of Ukraine, introduced by Councilman Paul Koretz, whose ancestors came from Ukraine. The resolution was presented to the press at the Ukrainian Culture Center organized by Ukrainian Art Center with our local Councilman Mitch O’Farrell’s initiative.  At the press meeting, Mitch O’Farrell introduced a motion to name Kyiv, Ukraine a Sister City of Los Angeles, and recently this received a positive vote and was confirmed by the City Council.

What can you tell us about how Ukrainian traditional artists and culture bearers are responding to the Russian invasion of Ukraine?

Daria

The current emergency situation in Ukraine has sparked a tidal wave of global awakening by Ukrainian artists in various genres – music, traditional arts as well as fine art.  We all are engaged in continuous fundraising and raising public awareness of the destruction of a nation.

The Ukrainian Bandurist Chorus preserves its mission as ambassadors of Ukrainian culture, music and a unique 60 string instrument – the Bandura.  The original seventeen members of the chorus survived WWII as a musical ensemble.  Reorganized in 1949 in the US, its current director and conductor Oleh Mahlay has a new generation of musicians who, after a forced shut-down by the COVID pandemic, is concerting with passion throughout the USA, raising funds to help their brothers in Ukraine.

The Ukrainian Art Center has worked with Ola Rondiak, a contemporary Ukrainian-American artist, designer, and sculptor who was born in the US but has lived in Kyiv for 25 years.  Much of her artwork is about the current situation in Ukraine and the influence of the strong women living in these turbulent times.  She has generously donated her artwork for fundraising for Ukraine.

A member of UAC, our local folklorist Barbara Wetzel held several Pysanky (Ukrainian Easter Eggs) workshops even with the children of Ridna Shkola (Ukrainian language school) to introduce and teach the ancient folk art and raising funds for Ukraine with her folk art.

Learn more at the UAC website.

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As a performer, music scholar, author, fan of jazz, funk, and the blues, I was thrilled when ACTA asked me to lead a recorded conversation with legendary vocalist, performer, and educator, The Dynamic Miss Faye Carol. I’m an Oakland native, steeped in our unique cultural arts scene which is informed by the contributions of migrants from all over the world, but especially the Southern U.S. Miss Faye came as a child from Mississippi and has been beautifying Oakland musically for decades. She participated in ACTA’s 2021 Apprentice Program mentoring bass player James Wiley in the blues tradition, as well as ACTA’s 2021 Living Cultures Grant program with her own School of the Get Down project. She was also recently honored with the prestigious Hewlett 50 Commission in the Folk and Traditional Arts. 

In our conversation, Miss Faye discusses these accomplishments, but also explains how she discovered the magic of her singing voice and what keeps her excited about making music. As a way to demonstrate her musical tastes and show the interplay of old and new that defines her style, we put together a playlist inspired in part by the Yoruba people’s number of fulfillment, and in part by American tradition. Sixteen cowries for divination. Sixteen years to mark the passage into womanhood. Sixteen soulful tunes sung by Black women, selected and arranged in order by Miss Faye Carol herself. Listen to our conversation and playlist, and let them move you!

Umi: “After all this time, Miss Faye, what keeps you excited about making music?”

Faye: “Well, I think what keeps me excited about it is because I think I’m lucky enough to have found my lane in life. I just love it, like I always have loved it, and I don’t even know why I love it so much, but I do–that flame never dies for music, ever. And it’s something that I think is not a luxury, but a necessity. It’s a necessity, because we need art to feed our souls, and since music is my lane, I know that its place is to feed people’s soul, and allow you a place to use your emotions. How do you feel? Do you feel like laughing? Do you feel like crying? Do you feel like cussin’ somebody out? Do you want to demand your rights? Or, are you happy because you just got something that you wanted, and you want to tell everybody about it! Did you just fall in love? Or did you fall out of love? You know, all the things that we experience as people – music helps us to relate to one another, and all the things in life that we live, and it also can make us reflect, be quiet, and think.”

Mothership Connection: The Playlist

About the Contributor

Dr. Umi Vaughan is a scholar/artist who conducts research, creates photographs and performances, and publishes work that examines the evolution and meaning of music/dance traditions across the African Diaspora. He holds a Ph.D. in Cultural Anthropology from the University of Michigan and is currently Associate Professor of Africana Studies and director of the Center for Black Student Success at California State University Monterey Bay. Dr. Vaughan is the author of Carlos Aldama’s Life in Batá: Cuba, Diaspora, and the Drum (Indiana University Press) and Rebel Dance, Renegade Stance: Timba Music and Black Identity in Cuba (University of Michigan Press).

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In a film tribute produced by the National Endowment for the Arts to honor the 2020 National Heritage Fellows, we hear Zak Diouf’s voice narrate a segment. As the dancers and drummers of Diamano Coura West African Dance Company rehearse a complex passage of choreography, he says, “…it’s a new generation; it evolves from the preceding one…the tradition is already here, you just have to pass it on.” The nation’s highest honor for traditional artists recognized the deep contributions of Zak and Naomi Diouf for their artistry and leadership as West African artists and mentors. To appreciate Papa Zak, as he was affectionately called by many, is to embrace a story of an individual, a husband and wife artistic team, the head of a family, and a mentor to an entire community.

ACTA has enjoyed a long relationship with the Diouf family, not only through support of their work through the Apprenticeship Program and Living Cultures Grants Program, but also from the strong presence of ACTA former board member, Esailama Arty-Diouf, the daughter of Zak and Naomi. We have been proud to support their exemplary work but much more than that, we have benefited and learned so much by the example they set for themselves and the community. On behalf of the ACTA staff and board of directors, we send our condolences and love to the Diouf family and community.

On December 11, a Celebration of Life was held in Oakland. While acknowledging that a stalwart of the community would no longer be in the physical form, the day was meant for the community, in truth the extended “family” of students, artists and others, to come together through dance class with visiting master artists and an evening concert with the company that Zak Diouf founded, Diamano Coura West African Dance Company (meaning those who bring the message in Wolof). There are eight children in his lineage who are actively involved in sustaining the traditions as company dancers, drummers and teachers. With 12 grandchildren poised to participate, the Diouf family has and continues to contribute to making Oakland an epicenter for the study of African dance for over four decades.

We share some history and perspective of Zakarya Diouf’s story and the Diouf legacy excerpted from a nomination letter that ACTA initiated on behalf of the Dioufs for the National Heritage Fellowship, the nation’s highest honor recognizing folk and traditional arts:

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To appreciate the impact of Zakarya Diouf, it is critical to understand his work in the context of a ripe and ready Oakland and Bay Area. This was the Oakland of the Black Panthers and activism. The Black Arts Movement of the 1960s fomented a yearning for lost and imagined connections to the African motherland. Dancers and drummers were widely involved in Pan-African practices of the day as a marker of Black pride so that the arrival of African artists was timely. Zakarya Diouf was the first culture-bearer to arrive, followed by C.K. Ladzepko of Ghana, and Malonga Casquelourd of Brazzaville, Congo. This synchronicity of master artists is a part of a chapter in the anthology, Hot Feet and Social Change: African Dance and Diaspora Communities, (edited by Esailama Diouf, Kariamu Welsh, and Yvonne Daniel). Dr. Halifu Osumare, UC Davis Professor Emerita of Africana Studies, writes in her article on Oakland dance history that “…traditional African dance from the continent with its ‘fierce freedom of the soul’ began to infuse the community that had already been ‘raised’ on African diasporan dance.” Dr. Osumare refers to the influence of pioneer dancer and researcher, Katherine Dunham, who codified a movement technique based upon ethnographic fieldwork in the Caribbean. The Dunham technique, a strong mix of modern dance and African Diaspora movement, had already influenced and produced a cache of skilled dancers. Ruth Beckford, a former Dunham company member, taught locally through the Oakland Parks and Recreation Department and many Black artists in the East Bay trace their first exposure to dance training to Ms. Beckford and the Dunham lineage. It was also due to Miss Dunham’s discerning genius that Zak Diouf first came to the United States. Meeting in Dakar in 1996 at the First World Festival of Negro Arts, he agreed to join Ms. Dunham in establishing her performing arts institute associated with Southern Illinois University in in East St. Louis. This also became an opportunity to earn his first Ph.D. in biochemistry at the University of Chicago. A second doctorate in ethnomusicology was earned at UC Berkeley in later years.

Before Zak immigrated in 1969, he had a distinguished career as the artistic director of multiple national ballet companies: Les Ballet Africaines of Guinea (1963), National Ballet of Senegal (1964-68), and prior to these distinguished companies, he lead the Mali Dance Ensemble, comprised of artists from Mali, Senegal and Guinea. This company provided an anecdote to the nationalism that had separated ethnic groups by political boundaries. While this experiment was short-lived and the countries went back to nationalist ambitions, Zak embodied a living compendium of history having experienced the region’s colonial rule, its independence, and importantly, the artistic distillation of diverse cultural practices in performance. While ethnic representation by state- sponsored dance companies can be problematic by simplifying the complexity of identity for stage presentation, the system also produced some of the world’s extraordinary talent. A large number of African master artists in the diaspora today share this training.

For Zak, a job in biochemistry led him to the Bay Area as well as the specter of working with Dimensions Dance Theater, another anchor organization in the story of Oakland’s dance history. With the establishment of a home base, Naomi became the artistic director of the performing company, Diamano Coura. With company classes three times a week for dancers and the music ensemble, the company has a vast repertoire reflecting specific ethnicities from Zak and Naomi’s respective Senegal and Liberia as well as material originating in Mali, Guinea, Côte d’Ivoire, and the Gambia. They have featured dances of the Kpellé, Kru, Vai, Gio, Loma and Grebo ethnic groups. This specificity is what distinguishes the work of Diamano Coura. Their contributions to expanding, deepening, and providing for this level of cultural immersion has propelled a community of dance and drum artists to achieve high artistry. The result is a complex presentation and understanding of Africa through its diversity of peoples, languages, rituals, beliefs, clothing, and masks. The company has performed extensively in major theater houses and universities in the United States, Canada and Europe. In 1977, they toured Ghana, the Ivory Coast, Senegal and Mali.

The Dioufs have consulted across genres as well, notably working to create “Lamberena” with Val Carniporili for the San Francisco Ballet, using a score from J.S. Bach and music from Gabon. This collaborative work found further life with other U.S. and European companies after its premiere in 1995. Zak received an Emmy Award for his part in the musical score of Alex Haley’s Roots “Part I” in 1976, among his many awards. In 2005, along with the late congressional representative, Ron V. Dellums, the San Francisco Foundation honored Zak with the Community Leadership Award for his vision in unifying the African cultural arts community and serving as a mentor to so many young people.

Another important area where the Dioufs have tilled and nurtured the field is as the anchors for other master immigrant artists who model their careers on the trajectory of Mama Naomi and Papa Zak. For 24 years, they have produced a dynamic four-day intensive known as Collage des Cultures Africaines. The event brings together African immigrant artists who live here and abroad to teach and perform. To say that the building shakes from the inside out is hardly an exaggeration, as Collage is a destination festival for serious dance and drum practitioners who attend from all over the country.

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In the most traditional sense, the eight Diouf children are among the lineage who will continue on the work of Zakarya Diouf. They are already prominently involved in the activities of the company and are artists in their own right who dance, play djembe, and create regalia in addition to their other broad careers as second generation Americans. Yet, the story is informed by all who affectionately and respectfully have called him Papa Zak, which number in the thousands. We have learned many tangible and intangible things through Papa Zak Diouf who contributed to the field much integrity and a window into parts of the huge continent of Africa from right here in Oakland, Bay Area, California, USA.

Dr. Zakarya Diouf will be buried in his beloved Senegal.

Contributions to his homecoming can be made here.

The post A Celebration of Life appeared first on Alliance for California Traditional Arts.

Shirley titled the program ‘Niji’ 虹 (Rainbow), because “because it represents a rainbow of different people and different things in the Bay Area that (she’s) had the fortune to connect with and collaborate with and share music with.” A lifelong practitioner of the koto, a 13-stringed zither that is the national instrument of Japan, Shirley has participated in several ACTA programs, mentoring three different koto students through ACTA’s Apprenticeship Program. Shirley talked to ACTA Program Manager Lily Kharrazi about what the collaboration with the SF Symphony meant to her as a traditional culture bearer in the Bay Area.

How did this collaboration take place?

The SF Symphony was looking to feature a collaboration between Japanese traditional music and classical music. Yuriko Fujita of the “Sharaku” store in SF Japantown—which sells Japanese music instruments and supplies—suggested me for the project to Casey Daliyo, who works in production at the SF Symphony. I have been performing and teaching Japanese koto in the Bay Area for over 60 years, so maybe that’s why Yuriko thought to suggest me for the project.

Your first reaction to the invitation?

I was honored that the SF Symphony approached me to curate this episode. I have performed with several orchestras, so I had an idea what could work and what might not. Although they said I didn’t need to try and include symphony members in the pieces, I wanted to take this opportunity to work with the symphonic musicians. I know that the musicians of the SF Symphony are all excellent artists, so this was a wonderful opportunity to perform with them!

When I’m approached for different projects, I always look for ways to stretch the boundaries of koto music. This time, I chose more contemporary numbers that would appeal to western audiences. I also play jazz koto, so I thought it would be fun to try a jazz number with the orchestra, as well, something a little “outside the box” for both genres of music. Orchestral music and Japanese music are often looked upon as more classical, so a chance do an East/West jazz fusion performance was too tempting to pass up!

Can you comment on koto as a classical art form, different from a vernacular or folk form?

Koto was introduced from China as a part of the court ensemble music in the 8^th century, and later began to be favored by wealthy aristocrats.  By the 12^th century, koto was also adapted to the Buddhist rituals to accompany songs. But it was only in the 16^th century when the prototype of today’s koto music was developed with the innovation of the priest Kenjun.  Koto music was further developed in the 17^th century by a blind court musician named Yatsuhashi Kengyo, who studied koto from a disciple of Kenjun.  Yatsuhashi began to teach koto to those outside of the nobility.  He is considered the father of modern koto music. Yatsuhashi died the same year that Johann Sebastian Bach was born, in 1685.

I feel that there is a correlation of Japanese classical koto to Western European chamber music.  Traditional koto music is sedate and elegant, reflective of its title as the national instrument of Japan.

Nowadays, you can hear koto in everything from folk songs to pop music which was definitely not the case until more recently.  Pretty much, anything goes now.

What does it mean for a traditional artist like yourself to have this opportunity?

I grew up playing traditional koto music, believing that the only kind of music that could be played on the koto was classical or what was composed by the main head master.  Since koto music has this aristocratic background, it wasn’t easy to try and “break the mold,” so to speak. In the past, one was not allowed to even play music from another koto school. Things are a little more open these days, but there still is that feeling of loyalty to the school which is very important. To be asked to perform with a world renowned and highly decorated orchestra such as the SF Symphony can be thought of as performing “outside of the box,” in a way.

In my koto school, the Chikushi School, the founder of the school, Chikushi Katsuko, composed the first work for koto orchestra, symphonic orchestra and choir, called “Chikushi Ji.” So, performing in this way is a continuation of her vision. She also was an innovator. This was an opportunity to bring the koto further forward in my personal quest to make sure that the future of koto music in the United States continues.

My added incentive is to honor koto teachers who were imprisoned in the American concentration camps during WWII taught students while in camp, which included my mother. Because of their resolve and love of their art even in that unimaginable situation, I feel it’s my responsibility to make sure koto music continues in the U.S. in their honor.

Does performing with the SF Symphony feel like recognition?  How is this different than recognition from your own community?

When one practices traditional arts, one would hope that the core community where those arts come from would appreciate the arts of their heritage. I mentioned the history of Japanese Americans put into prisons during WWII including members of my own family. The stigma and the trauma felt by Japanese Americans of this time led them to feel they were not American enough. Many people from my community shunned Japanese cultural arts as they came out of the camps feeling that it was more important for them to prove they were loyal Americans by becoming “110% American.”

My hope is that this collaboration might bring respect and understanding to my own Japanese American community because these traditional arts are wonderful and beautiful.

That’s why I wore different kimono in each of the pieces I played, as well, to show the beautiful art of kimono. Also, as one who practices a traditional art, most of us traditional artists truly do love these arts, and that’s why we do them!  We don’t expect any recognition or accolades.  That’s why people who do traditional arts are so dedicated to them and have so much heart in them.

Were there difficult concepts to translate in this exchange?

One concept which is different is having a conductor to guide the music.  In Japanese music, it’s pretty much by feel, and musicians rehearse and rehearse so they know how the music is going to go without even looking up. When you’re playing the shamisen, you are not even to look at your hands on the neck.

Otherwise, the language of music is universal. There really isn’t anything to “translate” because it’s all in the feeling of the music, which is somehow understood.

Also, Japanese music themes are often around nature.  The pieces we played, the translations were “Pastoral,” “Flow” of a river to a waterfall, and “Rainbow.”  When I was learning violin, most of the music was “Opus 1,” “No. 3,” or something like that. But you can still hear feelings in the music even without a subject.

What kinds of work would you like to do with future East/West collaborations (if that is a fair way to characterize this work)?

I love music from all around the world—East, West, North and South. I even varied the types of pieces in this episode: the first number was based on western scales; the second number was based on a Latin tuning; and the third number was based on an Asian pentatonic scale. I wouldn’t want to restrict myself because there are interesting and creative sounds from all over the globe. I am open to and have collaborated with many artists of the world in their music, dance and art, which keeps me creative and open and interested in my own music.  I do try to work within the traditional tunings and techniques to keep the natural voice of the koto. Just here in the Bay Area, I have been able to collaborate with many diverse people and artists in this way, which is why I have lived here all my life.

What if anything would you like our readers to understand about the traditional arts and their relationship to other art forms?

Traditional arts are a little like studying history. When you study history, you get an idea how things came to be today, and what might be coming up in the future. Studying traditional arts is the foundation of a particular art practice and also a glimpse into the soul of a culture. Once you understand the sound and the words and the rhythms and how they came to be, it is more interesting and fun! Classical and traditional arts tell a story. You learn more about the people and the culture. Sometimes you understand it and sometimes you don’t, but music is a language of feeling. I don’t speak fluent Japanese so I don’t always know what all the words mean, but it doesn’t mean I can’t play it or sing it.

It doesn’t matter where you came from, even if it’s not part of your background. Anyone can understand it if you just listen.

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