52nd annual Takarazuka Bluegrass Festival (2024) – photo © Jeromie Stephens
…or, how I learned to navigate among friends in Japan.
After years of anticipation and planning, I finally arrived at the 52nd annual Takarazuka Bluegrass Festival in Japan. My journey started at 7:00 a.m. at the Oppama train station, where I rode to Shinagawa and transferred to the Shinkansen Nozomi Bullet Train to Osaka. The fare, round trip, was about $300 – a bargain for the experience alone. One more transfer to Japan Railways Fukuchi Yama Line delivered me to a lonely Shin-Sanda platform, a heavy camera bag on my shoulder and a large rolling suitcase with more cameras and a little bit of clothing. A taxi took me the rest of the way to the Sanda Athletic Park on Mt. Ōfuna.
The drive reminded me of the steep switchback roads in the Clinch Mountains that lead to Smith Ridge, home of Ralph Stanley’s Memorial Bluegrass Festival. A narrow roadway is lined with little homes, rice fields, thick stands of bamboo and luscious trees of every kind. Time appeared to slip backwards as we left town. Aside from the modern cars parked near the entrance, it could have been 1970. The site serves as a hiking trailhead and has camping cottages. Imagine Graves Mountain Music Festival, but on a much steeper grade.
With my luggage dropped, the cameras were unpacked and strapped on. I was finally ready.
Standing just inside the ticketing tent was Toshio Watanabe; nearby I found Shin Akimoto. Two familiar faces who spoke English very well. I tried to learn Japanese during the early planning stages, but it didn’t stick. Most signage has some English subtext and, if you are polite and ask around, you’ll find someone who can help.
My first bluegrass festival was in 1986, Walnut Valley, Winfield, Kansas (my hometown). Since then, I’ve probably attended and photographed 75 festivals. Often, as many of you know, we will run into our friends, see the same bands, and know the performers personally. It’s a comfort. At Takarazuka, practically speaking, everyone was new to me. Every face was a fresh source of inspiration. Between the unfamiliar buildings, foliage, food, sleeping quarters, and language though, one thing remained consistent: the music.
Bands who come are mostly amateur. Just about anyone who wants to put together a group can have a turn on stage. Each set lasts 10 minutes. A 5-foot-long schedule hangs from a pillar on stage right. Saturdays schedule, for instance, listed 90 bands playing between 9:00 a..m and midnight. Ninety Bands. A quick read and you’ll see names like Tone Rice Unit (not a misspell), Black Mountain Ramblers, The Hangovers, Grass Laundering, The Bluegrass Nuts, It’s About Time, Blue Darlin’, and Yamgasta Grass. Familiar tunes from Billy Strings’ Dust in a Baggie to yodeling songs were played and enjoyed.
Tent jamming was just like any other festival. The Hanshin Bluegrass Club, hosted by the very gracious Hiro Motoyasu, was open at all hours of the day and night. Musicians cycled through to jam, drink, eat, talk, and jam some more. At one point we all sang Take me Home, Country Roads at least three times. The musicianship ranged from beginning students to accomplished Nashville-seasoned professionals.
An area underneath the main cottage served as both food concession and gathering point for young university students. Clusters of banjo pickers here, packs of mandolin pickers there, guitar and bass players everywhere else. There was no green room. There was no dressing room. Everyone warms up wherever space can be found. Because the campsite is relatively small, the musician to attendee ratio is very high. At times you can’t walk 20 feet without bumping into a jam or practice session.
Moving through the crowds, cameras hanging all over me, not understanding or speaking Japanese, I felt an anonymity which worked to my advantage. Here in the US when photographing strangers, even at a festival, I’m peppered with questions: Why I am taking pictures? What am I going to do with them? Who are they for? I do my best to answer honestly, but it always interrupts the spontaneity of the moment – ruining what was happening right before which triggered my wanting to take a photo. At Takarazuka there was none of that. I was welcome wherever I worked; a bluegrass camaraderie prevailed.
The weather was warm, hovering in the upper ’80s with high humidity. Most carry hand fans. More than one time I would suddenly feel a light breeze. A quick look around would reveal someone standing nearby was fanning me. This is a cultural phenomenon in Japan. People taking care of each other, even strangers. I was always grateful for the cooling-off. I must have looked very, very hot.
It’s taken me three days to edit this work and catch up on sleep. Takarazuka is no longer a mystery. Somehow, someday soon I want to come back and do this all over again.
I owe a big thanks to Shin, Toshio, and Hiro and Akira Otsuka who helped me prepare for this bluegrass Journey.
Postscript: Several times I was asked how I learned about Takarazuka. My answer, through the work of master bluegrass photographer, Mr. Nobuharu Komoriya.
Over the years I’ve seen his beautiful black and white photographs of our musical icons, performing in Japan: Bill Monroe, Tony Rice, JD Crowe and Ricky Skaggs, to name a few. Immediately drawn to this high-quality work I began researching the photographer. This man seemed to be everywhere in Japan where important moments in bluegrass history were being made. He published a book in 1973 titled Blue Ridge Mtns. Friendly Shadows, which documented the journey he made to the United States in 1973. With the aid of Akira Otsuka and others, he traveled around music festivals and venues throughout the Eastern United States:
- McClure, VA (Ralph Stanley’s Memorial Bluegrass Festival)
- Nashville, TN (Grand Ole Opry, Eddie and Martha Adcock’s Old Time Picking Parlor)
- Arlington, VA (John Duffey’s repair shop)
- Warrenton, VA (8th Annual Warrenton Bluegrass Festival, Lake Whippoorwill)
- York, PA (First Annual Pennsylvania Folk Arts Festival)
- Bean Blossom, IN (Bill Monroe’s Brown County Jamboree)
- Troy, NC (Montgomery County Bluegrass Festival)
- Indian Springs, MD (2nd Annual Indian Springs Bluegrass Festival)
Through my friend Akira Otsuka I contacted Nobuharu. For several years we have been pen-pals. Out of respect and admiration, I shipped him several of my favorite images. For the same reasons, he shipped me several of his own. Though he lives in Tokyo, he took two long trains down to Osaka so we could meet. For that I am eternally grateful. Being able to share time with my photographic Sensei was icing on the cake.
We’ll have more of Jeromie’s fine images from the Takarazuka Bluegrass Festival over the next few days.
