ARANOYAS: Ikebana Visits the American Embassy

This month's Ikebana program was more scintillating than usual. You can chalk this up to "location, location, location." We took our show on the road and visited the Tokyo residence of the U.S. Ambassador to Japan.

The back yard. Pool is behind the hedge on the left.

Susie Roos, the wife of the current ambassador, told us this house is one of the U.S. Department of State's premier properties. It was built during the Great Depression at considerable cost to American taxpayers since most of the construction materials were imported from the United States and since there were only about 15 taxpayers in total at the height of the Depression (estimate mine). The house was renovated in the mid-90s during Walter Mondale's tenure as U.S. Ambassador to Japan.

Lunch on the patio

The only other time I've visited the embassy residence was for a Fourth of July party, a rather boisterous, evening event hosted by the previous ambassador. Seeing the house in daylight for the first time, the architecture struck me as a tad more Spanish than North American. My Puerto Rican friend Carmen agreed which is sufficient validation for me.

Mrs. Roos told us about the State Department's "Art in the Embassies" program and invited us to view the art currently on display on the first floor. So we did.

Morinaga and Nagisaki chat in the shade of Yoko Ono's installation

The works currently on display are all by Japanese artists who have lived in the U.S. Yoko Ono, for instance, installed this potted tree and dashed off a bi-lingual invitation that hangs on an adjacent wall. Some of us took Yoko-san up on her invitation by writing our wishes for Tokyo on little white cards and then hanging them on the tree.

Several of us were arrested (in Kafka's sense) by a kimono displayed in the drawing room. American warplanes were printed along the shoulders and GIs floated in parachutes down the back to the floor. Someone said the artist's intent was to depict the harmonious relationship that exists in Okinawa between the U.S. military forces and the native population. I'd like to meet that artist. He seems to have a nice sense of humor.

Otsuka-san, Ando-san, and Kaji-san in the drawing room

The questionable arrangement

A few of the Japanese ladies rolled their eyes ever-so-politely, shook their heads sadly, and quietly tut-tutted when they spotted the flower arrangement in the center of the drawing room. This was an educational moment for me. I learned that one should never be able to see the little metal prongs that hold the flower stems in place. Duly noted.

After we feasted our eyes on the art and furniture, three of our members assembled Ikebana arrangements while marimba music played softly in the background. This was more exciting than it sounds. There was something of a competitive, beat-the-clock energy in that room. The ladies represent three different schools of Ikebana. The lady on the left finished first and the lady on the right managed to finish just as the music ended.

The marimba player then took center stage for twenty minutes. The program was running late by then and all the growling stomachs made it hard to hear the music. Fortunately, yours truly was seated right next to the dessert table. I amused myself for the first 15 minutes of the concert by taking pictures of the treats. For the last five minutes I sampled the coconut, strawberry, and chocolate cupcakes. The coconuts were especially tasty.

(Truth be told, I was not a good sport about the marimba player, mainly because I fail to see a connection between that instrument and the United States. I was all for hiring the high school choir - what a thrill for those teenagers - or a banjo player to entertain us, but those ideas weren't popular with my fellow board members. I might have been more amenable to marimba music had anyone mentioned the Latin-flavored architecture. Then again, probably not.)