All In

In writing about my experience with Mr. Yoshimura, I am looking back over a span of nearly thirty years— long enough ago that some significant changes have occurred in how we live everyday life. Perhaps greatest among them is the revolution wrought by advances in electronic communication. In 1994 I did not have a personal computer and I don't think Mr. Yoshimura did either, so email was not available to us. Text messaging had been invented only two years earlier, but few people had smartphones until later in the 1990s and early 2000s. I did not acquire one until considerably after that. Mr. Yoshimura and I lived about seven hundred miles from each other, which meant if we wanted to communicate our best options were the telephone or written correspondence through the US Mail. Mr. Yoshimura had a FAX machine, as did the Arboretum, so we used that sometimes, too. 

It's almost impossible for people in this modern age to imagine how primitive it was back in the dark old days of the distant past! Even those of us who lived through them can barely remember now.

After the letter I received from Mr. Yoshimura in July of 1994, the one in which he suggested he might be able to find time in December or January for me to study with him, I worked to solidify his commitment. First I asked Don Torppa to write to Mr. Yoshimura to thank him for accepting me as a student, even though Mr. Yoshimura hadn't yet indicated that would happen for certain. I was hoping to nudge the process forward by acting like it was a done deal. Meanwhile I spoke to Mr. Yoshimura several times over the phone. Although no record remains of those conversations, the outcome was agreement that the individualized instruction would indeed happen. It was arranged that I should travel to Mr. Yoshimura's house and studio in Briarcliff Manor, arriving Saturday, January 14th, and departing on Tuesday the 17th. Originally the plan was for me to take a room at a nearby hotel, but Mr. Yoshimura surprised me with an invitation to stay at his home. He announced that I could "sleep in girl's room".

Although Mr. Yoshimura was quite conversant in English, having by that time lived in America for thirty-seven years, he still spoke with a heavy Japanese accent. He was intelligent and nuanced in his speech but I sometimes found him difficult to understand. It struck me as odd when he said I could stay in "girl's room". I wasn't at all certain I had heard him correctly, but I didn't want to ask for clarification. I was so surprised at the offer to be a guest in his home I just immediately and gratefully agreed.

Wanting to make certain nothing might derail the plans, I made arrangements to attend a seminar that featured Mr. Yoshimura as a guest artist. I wanted to see him and talk to him again in person before my scheduled study with him in January. The event was the Deciduous Bonsai Symposium held that September in Rochester, New York. It was organized by William "Bill" Valavanis, proprietor of the International Bonsai Arboretum and Mr. Yoshimura's most accomplished student. It was a good educational experience for me, in addition to providing the personal contact with Mr. Yoshimura I sought. Our arrangements were confirmed and once again he stated I would be sleeping in "girl's room." He also told me I need not worry about food while I was there because he would cook for us.

As the last few months of 1994 melted away and the date of my study with Mr. Yoshimura drew near, my excited anticipation of the visit began to give way to nervous doubt. I regarded the old teacher with awe. I was still very much a bonsai beginner, even though I was on a fast learning track, and I began to worry that I really wasn't ready for the experience. I had acquired many old bonsai magazines from various sources and Mr. Yoshimura's name seemed to crop up in them all the time. Although I had several books, The Japanese Art of Miniature Trees and Landscapes by Yuji Yoshimura was the one I kept returning to, rereading and trying to absorb. It is difficult to convey how important that book was in the early decades of bonsai in this country. Bonsai people referred to Mr. Yoshimura's book as "the Bible." Here again, the difference between how it was then and how it is today is profound. I couldn't go to the internet to do a search for bonsai information or watch bonsai videos. The books and magazines were my connection to the greater bonsai world, and Mr. Yoshimura seemed to dominate that world. My worst fear was that he would quickly size me up and be disappointed by how little I knew.

It didn't help that around this same time I started hearing troubling things about Mr. Yoshimura. Whenever I had the opportunity to talk with someone else in the bonsai community I would eagerly share the news of my upcoming study visit with the great man. I was taken aback when some people started warning me about him: Yoshimura has been around a long time and knows a lot, and he's an excellent teacher but... he's tough! He's a dictator! He's mean, he hurts people's feelings! He's arrogant, it's his way or the highway! Do what he says and don't argue! I was told several anecdotes that portrayed Mr.Yoshimura as an insensitive tyrant. Then I was eyewitness to an incident that seemed to substantiate the allegations.

At the Deciduous Bonsai Symposium I attended a critique program conducted by Mr. Yoshimura. Critiques at a typical bonsai show involve a guest artist giving commentary about trees on display, sharing insights into the strengths and weaknesses of each. The people attending the critique follow the guest artist around and listen in hopes of learning. Many people were there to hear what Mr. Yoshimura had to say. As he moved through the exhibit, he eventually stopped before a very large trident maple bonsai that was impressive mostly for its size. He looked at the tree for a moment, then looked at the audience. "Whose tree is this?" he asked. A man standing close by me, who happened to be a bonsai figure of some note in his own right, indicated the tree belonged to him. Mr. Yoshimura looked at him and said, "Oh", then looked back at the tree. Then he looked up at the man again and said, "It is ugly, I think."

Worries about how my time with Mr. Yoshimura might go prompted me to double my resolve and prepare more seriously. I asked Dr. Creech if he would consider writing a letter of recommendation for me to present to Mr. Yoshimura when I arrived at his home. Such a formality was not necessary because Mr. Yoshimura already knew me, but I thought it would show respect and I figured it couldn't hurt to reinforce my association with his old friend, Dr. Creech. Dr. Creech, of course, consented. 

Not long before the time of my visit I composed another hand-written letter to Mr. Yoshimura. This one was similar to the letter I had sent him six months earlier when pleading my case to be his student, but this time around I was writing to give him fair warning of what he was getting into. I did not keep a copy of the letter, although I retain a clear sense of its message and purpose. The tone of what I wrote was completely open and honest, almost confessional. I gave Mr. Yoshimura a thumbnail-sketch account of a certain passage of my life in which I had poorly managed my affairs, leaving me afterwards in a badly disadvantaged position. I told him about meeting my wife and the two of us leaving the place where we were raised, coming to Asheville on a wing and a prayer and starting our family. I told him about finally arriving at the Arboretum and having the bonsai opportunity fall into my lap. I let him know in no uncertain terms that I had staked my self-respect and the well-being of my young family on the prospect of succeeding in my bonsai mission, and I was counting on him to help me make it.

I can't imagine what it must have been like for Mr. Yoshimura to read such a letter. As a personal statement, however, signing that letter and sending it to him was the equivalent of pushing every chip I had to the center of the table.