Who Usa Is
Scrunched up wads of paper littered the bedroom floor. Uncapped acrylic paints and paint brushes submerged in murky water adorned the work space. This is the scene of genius and invention. This is the foundation for a future filled with art and other things of wonder. Just look at the computer desk, with its matte white surface filled to the edges with figures, sketches, and doodles in pencil and crayon and you will see that an artist exists somewhere in the picture.
Mathematician she was not. Nor was she a historian, writer, or theologian. It took Usa Yamaguchi a good amount of time to figure it all out. In school, she excelled in all her classes. She was proficient in every elementary school subject with a knack for those art projects. These art projects involved more than just cutting out and pasting colored construction paper on to other pieces of construction paper. This was the art that involved an inborn talent that no art class could ever teach and a passion or an “aficion” as the Latin call it. Whatever it took to create functional art, Usa had it.
Natural talent and fiery aficion do not wholly and completely create a professional. There needs to be a genuine desire. This is not to say that Usa was not interested in becoming a connoisseur of art. She was just wary of it all. She knew the hardships of the no-name artist trying to secure a place in the art world with name recognition. She knew the story all too well, as it was the story of her father’s career.
Fumio Yamaguchi was an artist through and through. He had the talent, the desire, and the passion. He was a cartoon artist like no other, with the ability to capture the essence of humor and wit in a hand drawn form. The simple sketches he drew fascinated and delighted his children. These children saw their father’s abilities and wanted to be able to create the same art he could. They wanted to be just like him, always with some drawing utensil at his disposal, doodling away on household furniture, napkins, or any other surface that was available. Old paintings and sculptures were all around the house, buried under other stored items like quilts, baby albums, and old board games. Fumio told all the stories that were at the heart of his pieces. He encouraged his children to explore artistic techniques and taught them a few to foster the growth of their natural talent. All three of the Yamaguchi children were artistically inclined.
Fumio, the sole provider of the household and the home’s patriarch always encouraged art as a hobby for his children. Art was fine for spare time and for fun, but he never implied that pursuing art was a wise career choice. “I never wanted my babies to grow up to be starving artists. It sounds impressive, but it’s a hard life to live. I know it.” Talented and impassioned as he was, Fumio Yamaguchi was not Charles Schulz. He could not attain the name recognition that many others in his position crave; this was just the case even when one had undeniable talent and drive for one thing. His occupation became that of a carpenter. He could still use his artistic abilities but had to apply them to something more practical and not as esoteric. When the time came for his children to look to the future and choose potential careers, he was careful to offer the caveat of the struggles of being an artist full time. “It is hard enough as it is to live comfortably in New York, but even more so when you are an artist by profession.”
It seemed that with the eldest child, Marina, there would be no need to worry. She was on the path to becoming a doctor; she started off college with biology courses and was headed to meeting the pre-med requirements. Then to everyone’s surprise, including the younger sister and easily influenced Usa, Marina decided to change her major. She could no longer do what was deemed practical by her family. She could not do something she was good at just for the sake of being practical; Marina yearned to do something that made her happy and feel satisfied with her life. Marina decided to become an Art History major. “I was shocked that she could go against all of Daddy’s warnings. We all loved to draw when we were younger, and we still have some of Marina’s art hanging up in our room, but I never saw her taking this path. In a way, it let me down. She definitely could have been Dr. Yamaguchi. But, in a way, it inspired me. She never lived by the rules or society’s conventions of what made a career worthwhile. She always did her own thing.” Deemed as a mistake by some, Marina proved them all wrong. She moved to her parents’ native Japan to work in a renowned art gallery. She made it work out so art could be her means to an end.
Usa was easily molded and sculpted. At the point that Marina was making leaps and bounds in the Japanese art gallery scene, Usa was nearing the climax of her high school career. When choosing the courses for her all-important Junior year, she wanted to stay practical. She had already tested the waters and saw the capabilities of the art department through an introduction to photography course. She had taken the art appreciation course and was now stuck. She wanted to be pragmatic, not just for the sake of meeting the stringent graduation requirements of the elite Townsend Harris High School’s curriculum, but she needed to take those courses that would impress various college admissions officers. If she was to go into architecture, perhaps she should not load her schedule with “soft art,” as Usa called it. “Soft art was more spiritual than practical. I loved my sketches and watercolor paintings, but I did it for my own sanity, not to help me get into my college of choice.” So, without giving a second thought to the alternatives, she went for the practical electives in math and science. Keeping the image of Fumio’s “starving artist” in mind, Usa did not second guess the decision to temporarily abandon art. She chose similar options and even ventured into taking an Advanced Placement statistics course her senior year to avoid the fluffy value of the art course for something more solid. She would not be able to suppress her inner artist forever.
College presented an opportunity for Usa to really live on her own terms. Quite literally, Usa was living on campus in a dorm two hours away from Jackson Heights, her hometown. She left behind her cook of a mother, artist father, and aspiring musician younger brother to study at SUNY Stony Brook. Even before the pressure of deciding a major came up, Usa had to pick courses for her first term at college. “I was terrified. The kid gloves were off, because there were no administrators or counselors looking over my shoulder to guide me in the right direction. I honestly had no idea what I wanted to major in, so I could not even choose prerequisite courses. I felt completely overwhelmed.” This sense of being overwhelmed caused Usa to pick safe courses, including one in her native language, Japanese. She had impressed the professor for the entry level course so much she was moved into an intermediate class. It did not take long before she realized that was a mistake. “I sat in and listened to all the students talk at lightning fast speeds using phrases I had never even heard before. Their Japanese was so fluent and so formal, I grew nervous as the minutes passed by and I found myself silent. I was ashamed I could not keep up even though I speak Japanese at home. I nearly burst into tears right on the spot. I had to get myself out of the class.”
After that disastrous event, Usa decided that practicality could be put on hold. She knew what her replacement course options were. Influenced slightly by Marina’s bold decision to become an Art History major, and influenced more so by her own love for drawing, Usa signed up for an art class. “At first, I had to convince myself that it was a practical option as well. I told myself it was absolutely necessary or else I would not have enough credits. I needed a replacement class and that was the only option I had. ‘I might as well do something I will like’ I told myself.” Although she had a lot of catching up to do, Usa found herself in love with the course. She enjoyed all the assignments and did not mind that they took up so much time to complete. She especially loved the assignments that were to be completed in pencil or in charcoal. “Shading is hard. It can be tricky to pull off. This is why it feels especially satisfying when it is done correctly.”
Usa was gradually experiencing that about face moment. She realized that art was in fact something she wanted to pursue. She doubted her abilities but could not deny the joy she felt when she would work on assignments for her art class. Then the real deciding moment came. It was the equivalent of the mid-term in the art class: the individual evaluation. “I did not want to hear the evaluation. I cannot stand being criticized. If I heard anything negative I told myself I’d never take another idiotic art course again.” To her pleasant surprise and her utmost relief, the critique was positive. Professor Jason Paradis even told her that her “natural talent shined through.” The Professor even suggested that Usa seriously consider becoming an art major. “I was stunned. It was unexpected. I guess I was scared too. What would happen if I actually took his advice and did as my sister did?”
The positive critique was helpful and well received. Usa has signed up for another semester with an art course. She will be taking another photography course and hopes to continue with studies focusing on the arts. Although it is not certain yet, she was see herself being a fine arts major because “when I am cleaning my paint brushes or glancing down at my charcoal stained fingers, I realize this is something that I would love to do for the rest of my life.”
December 21st, 2007 at 10:59 pm
Helen, I must admit, I cannot really understand why anyone would want to commit themselves to art as an major. I think art is useless at times. It is so opinionated that it is hard to decipher who has talent and who does not. Good luck to your friend. I could never see myself becoming an artist.