By Avery Matteo, Staff Writer
Kaoru Ishibashi, who records under the name Kishi Bashi, had a complicated task ahead of him at Union Transfer on November 4th. Prior to the release of his new album, Ishibashi’s reputation within the indie world was grounded in his identity as a talented multi-instrumentalist and artist who pushes against the limitations of genre. But with the release of Omoiyari in May, Ishibashi has cultivated a powerful new musical identity and creative direction for himself.
Omoiyari, a Japanese word that loosely translates to compassion and empathy for others, is a title that casts a message of hope over an album that contends with the painful history of Japanese internment in the United States during World War II. Ishibashi’s work chronicles the events that ravaged the lives of 117,000 Japanese-American people, something that will be expanded upon in an accompanying documentary slated for release in early 2020—but the heart of the album lies in the narratives of individuals whose sense of belonging was unjustly stripped from them.
Many of his lyrics are steeped in visceral imagery and themes of love, loss, language, and culture, ensuring that listeners devote as much attention to the devastating effects of internment as they do to the structural violence committed by the United States government.
Another meticulous task Ishibashi faces on this tour cycle is juggling the dimensions of his scattered and experimental past projects with his more serious, narrowly-focused current ones. Omoyiari has received widespread critical acclaim, but Ishibashi remains aware that those unfamiliar with his latest project expect to hear the lush, upbeat songs like “Honeybody” and “Can’t Let Go, Juno” that skyrocketed him to a position of relative fame. Ishibashi creatively navigated this dilemma on stage, using changes in lighting and instrumentation to demonstrate shifts in tone.
Ishibashi’s strength in navigating nuance and sensitivity stood out once again before his performance of “Theme from Jerome (Forgotten Words).” He stopped performing for a moment to acknowledge the privilege he has today as a Japanese-American man—especially compared to the immigrant groups presently facing discrimination, danger, and hardship—with light humor and solemnity, saying, “You know, my parents are Japanese immigrants, and being from Japan is not so bad these days, everybody loves sushi, going to Japan is on the bucket list of most people… Let’s see, manga’s kinda cool… But there are a lot of other ethnic minority immigrant groups where it’s not particularly comfortable to be in America. So this goes out to that constant pressure that people face.”
Kishi Bashi’s mission is twofold—to bring awareness to past violence and promote an optimistic hope for the future. Articles, archives, and history books can only tell us so much, and Omoyiari lives up to its name by filling in the emotional gaps that often exist in historical narratives—facilitating a deeper sense of understanding among, and between, his listeners.
Image credit: Avery Matteo
