#AuthorInterview with Michael Pronko
Today, Feathered Quill reviewer Tripti Kandari is talking with Michael Pronko, author of A Guide to Jazz in Japan.
FQ: You have explored the jazz culture in Japan in meticulous detail. How long did it take you to carry out the research? What were the major challenges you faced?
PRONKO: It’s taken nearly thirty years. But not every night. I live in Tokyo, so I go out to hear jazz once or twice a week. Sometimes that’s “research” and other times just relaxing. When I first started writing about jazz for The Japan Times, an English language newspaper few Japanese had ever heard of, they were more amused than anything. There were no hurdles per se, but initially, indifference. It was a world unto itself, and information was only handouts and flyers at clubs. It was hard to know where to go, but jazz maniacs talk a lot, so I learned bits and pieces from them. However, as the internet and social media took hold, Japanese musicians became increasingly interested in promoting their names. Now, musicians, club owners, music companies, and producers are all keen to have their info or a review in English, so they help me a lot.
 |
| Author Michael Pronko |
FQ: How did your personal jazz journey begin?
PRONKO: My father was a jazz fan, so that was the music played at home every evening. I’d fall asleep to the sounds of jazz wafting up the stairs from the living room. I played in the jazz band at high school, but at college became more interested in making cassette tapes of my father’s records to impress my classmates, I guess. But I liked other music, too, rock, blues, bluegrass, folk, African, Latin, Brazilian, anything that was good. In Japan, I was writing for a couple of magazines, and no one else knew much about jazz, so I fell into that side of the coverage. That led to a column in The Japan Times, and columns at other Japanese magazines. I helped found a bilingual jazz magazine. By then, going to jazz was locked into my routine, and I’ve continued to report and explore the scene ever since. The journey is far from over. I’m looking forward to retiring from teaching in a few years and having more time to discover all the many new bands that have emerged, and catch old favorites as well.
FQ: You have highlighted the image of jazz in Japan, which is a cultural tradition more than just music. When did you first feel this difference? What was your reaction to it?
PRONKO: It was gradually revealed to me, mostly by talking to other fans. I would be the only foreigner in the clubs most of the time (that’s changed now!), so people would tell me why they loved jazz so much. Musicians, too, take a lot of things for granted, but when someone from the birthplace of jazz—America—is there, they talk a lot about where they fit into the tradition. I also conducted research in libraries and read extensively. For years, the Japanese jazz press was huge, with many magazines published monthly. I’d scour those for recommendations of CDs and clubs and such, but I could also pick up on the cultural issues, too. Jazz means something different to the Japanese than it does to Americans, Europeans, or people from other cultures. It’s a symbol of freedom and democracy here, an intense art form, an escape and release, and a way of tapping into the global culture outside the country. The Japanese take jazz very seriously, and in such a different way.
FQ: Jazz venue etiquettes can be strict. Any interesting or surprising incident to share with us when you were new to this scene?
PRONKO: I learned etiquette the hard way. Americans tend to demean or distrust etiquette, but the Japanese respect it. One night, inebriated, I continued talking to the Japanese friend who had accompanied me. We were sitting on the second floor, so I didn’t think anyone could hear. But after a song or two, the waiter came over and asked—or rather told—us to be quiet. Another time, inebriated again, a foreign friend wouldn’t stop talking. That time, we were sitting right behind the piano, so the pianist looked around at us repeatedly. Japanese audiences sit quietly, attentively, and politely. I’m now a bit shocked when I go into a jazz club in, say, New York, where the chatter is loud and unceasing. I want to shush everyone up!
FQ: What was the audience in your mind when you first thought of penning the guidebook?
PRONKO: I thought it would be several: people living here, people traveling here, and jazz fans in general. If two of those categories fit, all the better. It’s aimed at being a guidebook, but also at pointing toward a deeper possibility of experiencing the culture, not just checking off the list of cool things to do in Japan. I hope readers will take the book as a step into another unique and fascinating side of Japanese culture. I hope it helps others reflect and think about jazz and culture, and their own place in the world.
FQ: The book is a culturally immersive guidebook. Do you think guidebooks like this should be written for other musical cultures too?
PRONKO: Yes, I do. I’d love to write another one, but it really takes years of research. I think that guidebooks too often tell and only rarely show. I hope mine does both. Books written in the first person can reveal much more about the culture than a factual guidebook can. I think both are helpful, but in the internet age, it’s easy to find information, and hard to find an experienced companion to start a deeper conversation about more profound experiences.
FQ: What did you find the toughest part of writing? Research, structure, or maintaining cultural accuracy?
PRONKO: I’d made most of the educational mistakes long before sitting down to pull this guidebook together, so it wasn’t tough exactly. I’d written so many articles, reviews, and essays, and conducted interviews and research for years, so I imagined it would be simple to just pull all that together. I was wrong! It took way more time than I had ever imagined. It’s a vast amount of information, and editing it down was hard. Who will I have to leave out? Painful. Maintaining accuracy was less of a problem than deciding who and what to be accurate about. It’s hard to write about music. Words don’t capture the experience very well, and I sometimes end up with metaphors or comparisons that don’t reveal enough. With a vast topic to write about, being succinct and focused isn’t easy. Just describing a club or a musician or a piece of music can be very tough. Finding the right words to encapsulate the music was probably the hardest part, and maybe always will be.
FQ: Can we get an insight into your new project? Do you plan to explore other cultural aspects in Japan?
PRONKO: I’ve already started on the second edition of the jazz book, adding new clubs, musicians, and jazz coffee shops. However, that will take some time to compile. So, I guess my next project will be the next novel in my Detective Hiroshi series set in Tokyo. It will come out in the fall. I enjoy moving back and forth between non-fiction and fiction. Each has its own challenges and freedoms. Fiction allows you to speak through different characters, but non-fiction lets me express my thoughts directly. I’m always working on both. I’ll work on another collection of writings about Japanese life, but do it gradually as the topics come to me through the rush of experience in Tokyo.
