December, 1999, LOS ANGELES, CA - Does the year seem to speed by as fast for you as it does for me? 1999 literally seems to have gone at warp speed. Here it is December already! Not only the end of the year but almost the century and the millennium as well. It's exhausting just to think of it -- much less recount all that has happened in the last twelve months.
January began for me with a celebratory splash. I was privileged to serve as the master of ceremonies of the gala festivities that go with the opening of a spectacular new building, the Pavilion of the Japanese American National Museum in Los Angeles. It is an 85,000-square-foot expansion building of the museum on whose board of trustees I had been serving for the last thirteen years. The opening exhibit called "Common Ground" is on all that we share and that interlinks us as Americans in a pluralistic nation. Of interest to Star Trek fans is the fact that the exhibit includes the Captain Sulu uniform that I wore in the motion picture, Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country.
That theme of common ground was extended on to the international scene in February. I serve on a federal commission called the Japan-United States Friendship Commission. The U.S. commissioners joined with our Japanese counterparts in a joint meeting, the Japan-U.S. Conference on Cultural and Educational Interchange, called CULCON for short, in Tokyo and later, Naha, Okinawa. Our mission, in short, is to deepen mutual understanding through culture and education. I proposed that our next joint meeting, to be held in the year 2001, be convened in Los Angeles with the venue to be the Japanese American National Museum. The unanimous approval was great, but that is going to mean a lot of work for me, as well as the staffs of both the commission and the museum, preparing for this important bi-annual, bi-national conference. We're going to make this the best conference yet since President John Kennedy initiated these exchanges during his administration. And it is a wonderful opportunity to show off our museum and my hometown as well. After the conference in Okinawa, I toured Hiroshima and the ancient capital of Japan, Kyoto. The trip was for me a personally enriching cultural and educational experience.
The year was crammed with speaking engagements at universities, corporate meetings and other gatherings that had me trekking all over the country from one coast to the other, from the Canadian to the Mexican border. I can't tell you how earnestly I pray for the early development of the transporter when I'll be able to just sparkle for a few seconds and simply "beam" over to whatever destination.
In all my travels in 1999, I had the most fun participating in the "Fab Four" Star Trek conventions organized by empresarios extraordinaire, Dave and Jackie Scott. It has been wonderful sharing a lively weekend with Nichelle Nichols, Jimmy Doohan and Walter Koenig and all the faithful fans in so many cities all over the country. These cons really were like warm family reunions.
One of these conventions, however, was a sad one for all of us. It was at a Fabulous Four con in San Francisco that we learned of DeForest Kelley's passing. Our hearts were heavy, but we decided, instead of grieving over his death, to make the convention a celebration of his life and a sharing of our joyful memories of a dear friend and gifted colleague. De will always be in our hearts and fond memories. He has left his widow Carolyn and all of us a glorious legacy.
The year ends with a completion of a great circle back to the Japanese American National Museum, whose trustees elected me Chairman of the Board effective January 1, 2000. It will be an engaging challenge and I know that the museum can count on the enthusiastic support of a great many people across the nation. I invite you all to visit the museum when you are in Los Angeles or when one of our traveling exhibits visits your city. Let's all boldly go into a new millennium where we have never gone before.
I send to all of you my heartiest holiday cheers and very best wishes for a stellar Y2K.
January, 2001, LOS ANGELES - The 20th century is now history and we begin a new century and a bright new millennium. What this millennial turn might portend is both tantalizing, and, at the same time, just a bit daunting. The last century gave us astronauts on the moon as well as the atomic bomb; the reading of the human genome and the Holocaust; the darkest of evils and some of the most magnificent advances to come from the human mind. If history is any guide, the years ahead will likely move us forward with even more dazzling new advances wrought from the genius of our minds, as we at the same time struggle to avert another plunge into some horrific new depravity. I am an optimist hopeful that wisdom would prevail over our darker aspects but mindful of the infinite range of the human animal. We have the capacity for nobility and depravity as well as vacillation. The United States now has a new President who lost the popular vote and was appointed by a partisan U.S. Supreme Court. We begin the millennium on an ambiguous but nevertheless hopeful note.
I finished the last month of the last year with my traditional shopping trek to London. I love London. I love its theaters. I love its museums. I love its people. I love its ever-changing, ever-unchanging appeal.
"Cats" is still playing in London as New York brought the final curtain down on the record-breaking run of its Broadway version. Of course, the eternal "The Mousetrap" is still playing. Theater in London is eternal. They do great American plays as masterfully as they do Shakespeare. I saw a moving production of Eugene O'Neill's masterpiece, "Long Days Journey Into Night," with a deeply affecting performance by Jessica Lange. I saw Andrew Lloyd Webber's newest musical, "The Beautiful Game," a heartbreaking tale of the conflict in Northern Ireland that had some resonance of "West Side Story." My biggest theatrical disappointment was a much-lauded production of Stephen Sondheim's "Merrily We Roll Along." After fighting a rainstorm to get to the theater, we were told that the performance was cancelled because of an illness in the cast. They had no understudy. Our disappointment continued into the night with the restaurant that we decided on in lieu of the play. Service was poor, the food mediocre and the bill preposterous. I guess some evenings just are not meant to be.
Cultural London is wonderfully transforming itself without physically altering the urban landscape. Some of the most exciting new cultural institutions are in adaptively reused buildings or restoration of great classic structures.
The stunning Tate Modern, the new museum on the south bank of the Thames, is in a former powerhouse. The monstrous industrial space has been masterfully reshaped into a series of wonderful galleries. However, great works of modern art somehow seem to get upstaged by windows in some of the galleries that offer spectacular views of St. Paul's Cathedral across the river. Even Andy Warhol couldn't compete with that splendid city vista. And I recommend the top floor restaurant for a champagne lunch with a fabulous view.
I hadn't been to The British Museum in more than a decade. I'd read that a wonderful new improvement had been made there. The Great Court of The British Museum had been carved out of the clutter of ancillary buildings built over the years around the old British Library in the courtyard of the museum. We rushed to view this new addition to the London cultural scene two days after Queen Elizabeth II had inaugurated the space. Touted as the largest covered public space in Europe, I found it a bright, spacious and elegant expansion of a London treasure. The terrace restaurant there hadn't opened yet, so I will have to return there again soon.
The Royal Opera House in Covent Garden is legendary. In addition to its own storied history, George Bernard Shaw contributed to its fame by placing the opening scene of his play "Pygmalion" right in front of the Covent Garden Opera House, as does the play's musical version, "My Fair Lady." The opera house and the floral hall next to it had been under renovation for the past few years and had reopened in 1999 to great critical applause. The demand for tickets was so hot that I couldn't get in back then. This visit, I was determined and managed to get a pair of tickets for the ballet "Ondine." The performance was superb but the opera house itself was absolutely breathtaking. It was opera-going in the classic European tradition. Gilded tiers piled upon glittering tiers filled with elegantly dressed theatergoers. The new Covent Garden Opera House shone with a brilliance that only sensitive restoration combined with modern technology could produce. And the incorporation of the crystalline Floral Hall as an addition to the lobby with stylish new restaurants was great. Service efficient, food delightful, and prices varied.
The most controversial cultural addition to the London landscape was also its newest and most temporary -- the Millennium Dome. Looking like a giant desert tent or some extraterrestrial construction site on the Meridian Line at Greenwich, the Dome was a vast exposition hall with exhibits on the challenges and opportunities in the new millennium. Divided into 14 zones of diverse human activities such as work, play, learning, money and journey, it was much too much to experience in a day. We did the journey through a gigantic human body, walked through one million pounds in British sterling and went through the exhibit on future modes of travel. I should have been prepared for the inevitable -- floating luminously above us in the travel zone was a model of the Starship Enterprise. But, like Cinderella's coach, the Millennium Dome disappeared on December 31, 2000. A good number of British people felt that this attraction was much too much money spent for much too little. However, the Millennium Dome, with its subway line extension, the regeneration of the area and the Millennium Village, leaves a fine legacy of infrastructure for the future development of a formerly underused area. I thought it a good investment.
One millennium project that will remain on the London landscape is the giant Ferris wheel dubbed the Millennium Eye built on the south bank of the Thames across from Big Ben. On a clear, cold, blustery day, we headed out for a bird's eye view of London from the wheel. Alas, the day may have been bright and sunny but the strong wind made a ride on the delicately balanced attraction too chancy. They cancelled operation of the Ferris wheel. We now have another good reason to return to London.
The one inevitable joy on any of my travels is a gathering with Star Trek fans. Jackie Edwards, a former fan club president, had moved to Essex and had been urging me to visit that part of England. It was the driest part of England, she had told me. So, this being England, I had to travel through a driving rainstorm to reach Norwich in Norfolk. Hosted by Richard Stubbings, owner of a fantastical store called Kulture Shock, I spent a day as lively as it was wet with fans that have become good friends.
The millennium is off to a happy start. Let's all work to keep it that way.
February, 2001, LOS ANGELES - I continue to be captivated by the popularity and the longevity of the Star Trek phenomenon. It remains a pervasive factor in my life, whether professionally, personally or in my public service activities. And this gift has serendipitously expanded my horizon and enriched my life.
A direct professional tie-in can be viewed on February 18th when an episode of "V.I.P." starring Pamela Anderson is aired on the Fox network. I play the voice of an omniscient super computer that was programmed by a brilliant techno-genius who is a fervent Captain Sulu fan. Hence, my casting as the voice of the computer.
The Star Trek conventions, of course, keep on trekking. My first convention of this year was in the charming city of Portland, Oregon. It was a lively gathering on a cold, damp weekend. Long-time fans mingled with a growing number of young, first-time conventioneers. And, as well, the con gave me the chance to indulge my preservationist interest and again explore the imaginatively restored turn-of-the-century historic district of Portland.
I did voice work last week on a feature film project, cryptically titled, "Noon Blue Apple." I play a mysterious voice that haunts the mind of the lead character. No direct Star Trek connection here other than the fact that the director knew of my work from the original series.
But Star Trek has also afforded me the opportunity to contribute more effectively in a myriad of other areas not related to my professional career. This month, I was honored to serve as the star of a fund-raising dinner to help build a planetarium on the campus of Long Beach City College. With this facility, young students will be able to expand their study of the heavens and let their imaginations soar to the stars. Clearly, without the Star Trek association, I would not have been able to support this important cause as effectively as I was able.
On another occasion this month, I addressed a group of young interns at the Japanese American National Museum on volunteerism. Here again, I was able to connect with them more successfully as Captain Sulu of Star Trek than as the Chairman of the Board of the Museum.
We have a mayoral election coming up this spring in the city of Los Angeles, my hometown. I am supporting the former Speaker of the California Assembly, Antonio Villaraigosa. I know that I was asked to speak at his press conference largely because of the draw of my Star Trek linkage. As well, when I spoke at the Japanese seniors' intermediate care facility, Keiro Services, Star Trek combined with my association with the Japanese American National Museum, were the factors that attracted the large audience of seniors. I chatted with one lady who was 104 years old. She was born in 1896 - having lived in three centuries! In so many unexpected ways, my association with Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry's visionary creation has opened doors that have expanded my life horizon.
But when any hint of self-importance might begin to creep into me and I start believing that my Star Trek association is free entrée to anything, a humbling reminder always seems to bring me back to reality.
This month, my niece, Akemi Takei, sportscaster for KING-TV in Seattle, got married to David Louchheim, a radio sportscaster, on a beautiful beach in Maui, Hawaii. It was a singularly romantic affair, the bride and groom barefoot, with waves crashing in on lava rock outcroppings behind them. The reception was held at a hilltop restaurant overlooking the Wailea Country Club and the turquoise blue Pacific beyond. As we sipped cocktails, nibbled hors d'oeuvres and waited for the sun to set, I slowly became aware of a generational divide. The parents of my niece and David's friends were thrilled to meet me. They were eager to have their pictures taken with me. They told me they were long-time Star Trek fans from back in their college days. The young people, however -- Akemi and David's friends -- were gracious and friendly but rather blasé. In fact, some weren't really that familiar with Star Trek. They, I realized, were the post-Star Trek generation. The passage of time brings with it the larger context of life.
I was forcefully reminded again of the larger context of life on a hike into the crater of the now-dormant volcano, Haleakala on Maui. The crater is vast. And it is heart-stoppingly beautiful. There is a narrow, lava gravel trail that leads down to the bottom. It was irresistible. I had to go down into it. As I tramped down the sere landscape, rich with the burnt colors of inert lava, I imagined what this scene must have been like millennia ago. It was, we were told by a ranger, an inferno of blasting, bubbling, molten red lava. For centuries it spewed up flaming magma from the belly of the earth forming the island of Maui. This place was a hellhole of exploding liquid fire. But now, it was dead calm. Only this scorched and arid crater of unearthly colors remains.As I huffed and puffed my way back up to the volcano's rim - 10,000-feet above sea level -- I thought of the ardent excitement of the middle-aged Star Trek fans of the evening before, and, in contrast, the nonchalant affability of their children. Intense fire and cool, youthful calm. There didn't seem to be that much difference between the human generations and geologic time.
March, 2001, LOS ANGELES - Since 1991, I've been working from time to time with a gifted symphony conductor, David Warble, on a project that has become increasingly fulfilling. He asked me then to provide the narration for a symphonic composition by Johan de Meij inspired by the great Tolkien classic, "The Lord of the Rings." It was an intriguing offer. The trilogy is an epic adventure of imagination. But how can that complex heroic fantasy be summarized in a musical narration? This was, I rationalized to myself, to be in concert with orchestral music. That should help bridge the inevitable gaps in the narration. More out of curiosity, mixed with a dash of actor's audacity, I agreed to do it.
The concert was to be performed with the California Wind Orchestra at the Orange County Performing Arts Center, a dazzling new cultural complex south of Los Angeles. The venue, too, was an attraction. Performing there would be a prestigious addition to my credits.
At the rehearsal, I heard the music for the first time. I was blown away! It was soaring. It was dark. It was rousing and lyrical. Altogether, it was richly complex. At that instant, I realized what an extraordinary privilege it was to be working with Dave Warble on this project. The music embodied the splendor and the intricacies of the classic story. The concert was a great success. Since that presentation, I have been performing with him and the glorious music of Johan de Meij all over the country.
Last month took us to Long Island, New York, to perform with the Long Island Philharmonic at the Tilles Center. This time, Dave, the crafty showman that he is, built the evening around symphonic music that have their source in science fiction. The program opened with Gustav Holst's "The Planets." There was John Williams' music from "Star Wars: Episode One-The Phantom Menace." And, of course, "Star Trek" with the works of four composers, Alexander Courage, Jerry Goldsmith, Jay Chattaway and Dennis McCarthy who contributed to the body of "Star Trek" music. The final number on the program was "The Lord of the Rings." The evening was a sell-out success -- in no small part because of the huge turnout of Star Trek fans. After the performance, I visited with many friends and long-time fans.
Thanks to the concert, I had the opportunity to spend some time in the greatest performing arts center in the nation, Manhattan. As I am addicted to doing in New York City, I lived in the theaters. I was finally able to catch up with "Kiss Me Kate," a show I had attempted to see many times before and been disappointed because no tickets could be had. It was a wonderful production, great fun and well worth the tenacious effort to get the tickets. "Dirty Blonde," with Kathy Najimy was both hilarious and moving. The most surprising was "The Full Monty." In the face of the obviously sexually suggestive title, playwright Terrence McNally had written a moving drama of the devastating impact of unemployment on marriages, on a father-son relationship and on one's sense of self-worth. And the music was terrific. It's the best transposition of a popular movie to the musical stage that I have seen. At the Public Theater downtown, I saw a powerful drama by Jessica Hagedorn titled "Dogeaters." Her inspired metaphor for the tortured recent history of the Philippines was soap opera with all its over-the-top emotions and gravely extravagant morality. This edgy drama was galvanized by razor sharp performances by gifted actors like Alec Mapa, Hill Harper, Mia Katigbak and Jo Jo Gonzales. Every production I saw on this visit was -- each in its own way -- superb.
This Manhattan sojourn also gave me the chance to get together with New York friends. A special treat was having lunch with Pat Suzuki, an actress who I worked with some time ago in New York in a production of "Year of the Dragon." This vivacious singer/actress made her splash on Broadway as the star of the original production of Rogers and Hammerstein's "Flower Drum Song." The Japanese American National Museum will be honoring her with the Lifetime Achievement Award next month so I was able to share our plans for the event with her. But without discussions of awards and honors, lunch with Pat is always an entertainment in itself. These were the delightful bonuses I got from travelling to New York for the concert version of "The Lord of the Rings" -- so, thank you Dave Warble.
I gave myself another bonus last week - a weekend in another lively theater city, San Francisco. I saw a marvelous production by the American Conservatory Theater of the award winning British play, "Goodnight Children Everywhere." When I see an American play in London, I'm always impressed by the British actors' amazing ability to do American accents so credibly. Well, the cast of "Goodnight Children Everywhere" does American actors proud. The British accents of these American players were not only astonishingly convincing but specifically south London and one fine actor, Jesse Pennington, even captured the subtle influence that his character having lived in Alberta, Canada, for five years had on his south London accent. The drama was about the resilience of and the heavy cost to children who were moved out of London during World War II to avoid the Nazi air bombings.
The other play of the weekend had enjoyed great success all over the country, in part, I supposed, because of it eye-catching title -- " The Vagina Monologues." I discovered the title to be an absolutely precise description of an evocative play, a passionate assertion of women's sexual individualism. And it was blessed by a company of marvelous actors; Kathleen Califant, who was superb in the prize winning drama, "Angels in America," Lorri Holt, a fine San Francisco actor, and Jill Eikenberry, whom I loved in the television series, "L.A. Law."
Some of the best bonuses though are serendipitous. Just by chance, I happened across one of the people that make San Francisco such a wonderfully unforgettable town. It happened on a trolley.
Almost equal to my love of theater is my passion for all modes of public transportation. And San Francisco is the quintessential city of public transit. It has subways, buses, ferries, light rail and, of course, the fabled cable cars of song and legend. I love riding them all.
San Francisco just added another reason for me to love it more. They installed a new trolley line along the bayshore from the old Ferry Building to the fisherman's wharf area where the ugly Embarcadero Freeway used to be. The freeway had been torn down after the devastation of the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, opening up the beautiful bay to the city. A silver lining can be found even in the awful rubbles of an earthquake. Not only that, but San Francisco, true to its style, placed on the new tracks a system of historic trolley cars. They searched the world over for old trolleys and found them in places like Buenos Aires, Paris and Sydney, Australia. They even bought up the streetcar named Desire from the city of New Orleans. The new trolley route along San Francisco Bay is lined with stately palm trees. A stylish and urbane city has become even more enchanting.
A red trolley came rattling down Market Street. It looked like the kind I used to ride in Los Angeles as a boy. I hopped on and tried to slide my dollar into the fare slot. "My god," the conductor shouted at me. I thought I'd done something wrong. "You're Sulu! Captain Sulu!" he shouted with delight. Immediately, I realized that I had been recognized -- even with my sunglasses on. He stopped me from pushing my dollar in and insisted, "This ride is on me. You've given me some wonderful rides on Star Trek so this one is on me." He absolutely wouldn't allow me to pay my fare. I thanked him and sat down in front near the conductor. From that point on, he regaled not only me, but the entire car with the history of the new trolley system, his love of his job, his passion for San Francisco and his long-time devotion to Star Trek. He told us about his little daughter who he takes with him to the sights around his beautiful city. He had everyone on his car smiling. Then he asked me to sign a piece of paper. I was more than happy to reciprocate for his joyful hospitality. I asked him for his name and he told me it was David Sparks. What a perfect name, I told him, for such a sparkling personality, the sparkplug of the trolley and the spark that lit up the spirits of his passengers.
This city is the captivating city that it is because San Franciscans love San Francisco. And David Sparks is the quintessential San Franciscan. Thank you, David, for a memorable trek in your unforgettable city.
April, 2001, LOS ANGELES - March came in like a lion, as the song goes. On the first Saturday, the Japanese American National Museum's gala annual dinner was held at the fabled Hollywood Palladium. Supporters gathered from throughout the nation -- from coast to coast, from New York to Honolulu and parts in between.
Singing star Pat Suzuki dazzled the audience as she did decades ago on Broadway in "Flower Drum Song." She was honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award. Also recognized with the Lifetime Achievement Award was Iwao Takamoto, the gifted animator whose artistry developed such endearing characters as Scooby Doo, Huckleberry Hound and Yogi Bear -- work as unheralded as Pat Suzuki's was brightly spotlighted. But his contribution to American popular culture has been as dearly beloved. President of NBC West Coast, Scott Sassa's extraordinary achievement in entertainment management was lauded with the Award for Excellence. He oversaw the development of one of my favorite television series, "West Wing." Presenting the award to Sassa was the lion of the Japanese American community, the senior U.S. Senator from Hawaii, Daniel Inouye. The Senator's initiative in Congress was responsible for a $20 million federal grant to the Japanese American National Museum for which we are deeply grateful. It was a hugely successful sell out affair and altogether an enchanted evening.
As chairman of the Board of Trustees of the Japanese American National Museum, I am delighted to note that the museum launched a new exhibit this past month with the works of the artist, Henry Sugimoto. The opening night celebration was another glittering event. The celebrants in the museum lobby and the great hall flowed through the exhibit that sprawled into galleries in both of the museum's two buildings. Titled "Henry Sugimoto: Painting an American Experience," the exhibit chronicles the experience of a Japanese American artist before World War II, then his internment behind barbed wires during the conflict, and, after the war, his struggle to re-establish himself in New York. It is a powerful collection of paintings on an important chapter of America's history.
March wrapped up with the annual Grand Slam Star Trek Convention. As always, Trekkers from throughout the world gathered in Pasadena, California, for a weekend of Star Trek revels. All of the living members of the original cast appeared. It was wonderful to see Jimmy Doohan again because I hadn't seen him in many, many moons. Jimmy is now living in the Seattle area with wife Wende and a new baby -- again! And at 80 years old! This engineer has got some engine!
Amazingly, this September will mark the 35th anniversary of Star Trek. For all of us, the past 35 years have been shaped in ways we never dreamed by the shining vision of Gene Roddenberry. And in that time, Star Trek has made an undeniable imprint on our society. The show Gene created back in 1966 was science fiction with philosophy, sci-fi with sound scientific speculation on future technology and it was rip-snortin' good space opera to boot. Today, we can find parallels in recent world history with many of the plots from Star Trek. Technology that was science fiction 35 years ago -- like our communicator or consoles -- have become very real and very necessary tools of today, such as our cell phones and our computers. Sci-fi phrases we used on the show back in the 60's such as "beam me up" and "warp speed" have entered the common language of our times today. The past 35 years have made Gene's vision seem quite prophetic. Star Trek then was forward looking. There was the shock of the new -- new technologies, fresh challenges, cutting edge discoveries and unimagined civilizations. It was a bracing engagement with the future.
For the past year, an international association of fans calling itself the Excelsior Campaign, spearheaded by Russ Haslage of Ohio, has been advocating for a new Star Trek series called "Star Trek: Excelsior." It was their idea to recapture that invigorating spirit of adventure with Captain Sulu commanding the Starship Excelsior. It was an amazing effort. Wherever I went in the world, whether Europe, Asia or Latin America, there were groups of fans organized as part of the Excelsior Campaign. They were dedicated, energetic activists. Whether German, British, Japanese or Brazilian, they were the kind of fans who, throughout the 35-year history of the show, galvanized and directed the course of Gene's creation. I was impressed, honored and most certainly humbled by their dedication and devotion.
Alas, it was not to be. I learned recently that Paramount producer Rick Berman had decided to go in another direction -- backward, to be precise. The next Star Trek series he has decided on is to go back to the beginning of the Federation -- to a time our generation had long gone past. I understand that they are now casting for this new show so this project is moving ahead. I wish him well in this endeavor.
At the Grand Slam Convention, I expressed my heartfelt gratitude to all the fans there with the Excelsior Campaign. I repeat that thanks to all those that were not there in Pasadena but joined in this amazing global effort. Interestingly, this phenomenal campaign was made possible by new advances in technology -- the global linkage we now have through the internet. At its core, however, this glorious crusade was reminiscent of the spirit of the "Star Trek Lives" campaign of the 70's that brought Star Trek back from cancellation as a major motion picture. I have always believed that the real course of Star Trek has been set, not by the studio, not by the networks and not by the "powers that be," but ultimately by the fans. The future of Star Trek has always been determined by the fans. And I will always hold near my heart, my deep appreciation for the constancy of the fans' support.