Category: Photography

  • Interview with Mira Nakashima

    Mira Nakashima photographed in the Nakashima Arts Building, erected in 1967. The building, home to the Nakashima Foundation for Peace is used for concerts and events for peace.

    Interview with Mira Nakashima

    By Kyoko Sato & Jake Price, Originally Published in Japan Contemporaries, April 17, 2024

    Following the release of The Nakashima Process Book by Mira Nakashima and an exhibit featuring her work at the 1950s Gallery which closes May 23, Japan Contemporaries spoke with her to understand her process, history and future of George Nakashima Woodworks that still relies on human craftsmanship in an age of factory produced furniture and Artificial Intelligence.

    As much as furniture making is a physical process, to Mira it has an element of the transcendent. “Working with one’s hands and without (automated) machines brings a whole new level of consciousness,” she said. Made possible through the tactile process this heightened consciousness is ultimately transmitted into the furniture. She continued: “Every piece is individual and there will never be another like it. We consider and individually construct every single joint in every piece we’ve made.” 

    The reverence for meticulous hand craftsmanship was instilled by Mira’s father, George, who founded Nakashima Woodworkers in the 1940s. Of his process, he remarked, “Each flitch, each board, each plank can have only one ideal use. The woodworker, applying a thousand skills, must find that ideal use and then shape the wood to realize its true potential.” This potential, he believed, resided in the wood’s raw state. George meticulously sourced his materials from salvaged or fallen trees, prioritizing solid wood over processed materials. This approach not only reflected his environmental ethos but also contributed to the distinctive aesthetic of his furniture, characterized by organic shapes and flowing lines.

    George Nakashima used butterfly joints to connect two pieces of wood together to provide structural reinforcement. To create the joint, Nakashima would cut a butterfly or bow-tie shaped inlay out of a contrasting wood, usually Rosewood, and insert it into a matching cavity in the main piece of wood.

    Much of George’s philosophy was influenced during World War II when the United States incarcerated all Japanese Americans on the West Coast. Forced to leave their home in Seattle, the Nakashimas were confined to live behind barbed wire in the Minidoka concentration camp (euphemistically called a “relocation center”) in Idaho during World War II.

    While in the concentration camp, George met and befriended the master Japanese carpenter Gentaro Hikogawa and that experience profoundly shaped his life. Of his time in the camp George said, “The time was not entirely lost. There was wood, and a very fine Japanese carpenter, so I became his designer and his apprentice at the same time.” In Japan, working with a master carpenter of Hikogawa’s stature would have not been possible, but in the camp these divisions vanished. People used what they could to get by, both in terms of human relationships and material scarcity. The use of scarce materials and the depth of human engagement he experienced in the harsh conditions would inform George for the rest of his life.

    ​While in Minidoka, George used wood scraps from the construction of the camp and packing crates to make furniture in order to make conditions more bearable. The camp was surrounded by bitter brush, a tough, drought-tolerant shrub. Others in the camp collected and polished the branches of the shrub, and George used them as interesting free-form accents on his furniture. Through the use of these materials, George’s unique woodworking style began to emerge. He embraced the imperfections and natural textures of the wood, leaving the tree’s exterior contours visible in his pieces. This approach, now known as “live edge” woodworking, was born out of George’s ability to find beauty in the overlooked.

    ​George was a graduate of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). One of his professors, aware that George was living behind barbed wire, tracked him down. Through the sponsorship of his former employer in Japan, Antonin Raymond, who needed a chicken farmer on his farm in Pennsylvania, the professor was able to secure the family’s early release from internment.

    Exterior of the Show-room.
    George constructed the structures on the property to face south in order to integrate the view with the natural landscape and environment and also to take advantage of the southernly light. Pictured: the Chair Department.

    As the first Sakura blossoms came to life, we arrived on an overcast day. Guided by Mira through the many rooms on the property, all of which face south, gentle light filtered into the wooden rooms and studios crafted by George.

    ​After his passing in 1990 Mira continues to bring this ethos of peace to the company today. We spoke with her about the history and her progressive and pragmatic management of the company and of her own masterful work.

    Preserving Tradition in a Changing World as the Head of Nakashima Woodworkers

    Mira in the Pole Barn for wood storage that she designed and constructed.

    Japan Contemporaries (JC): How do you feel about being a third-generation Japanese American?

    ​Mira Nakashima- Yarnal (MN)l: Growing up in New Hope, Pennsylvania, we were the only Japanese American family around, and there was still a fair amount of post-war prejudice among my classmates at school.  They used to tease me because I looked different so I tried to be as American as possible, and to study hard to get good grades. When I was in college, there were only a few “orientals” in my class, but I felt more accepted because there were students from other countries. I didn’t know much about the internment until 2004.

    ​JC: Although you were too young to remember your experience in the camp, you have since researched your time there and that of others—looking back on it, how has this influenced your work and your deep investment in the furtherance of peace?

    ​MN: I was so young during the incarceration I don’t remember anything, and was still very young when we moved to the Raymond Farm, but I am extremely grateful to the Raymond Family for sponsoring us to leave camp. I don’t remember ever feeling deprived or hungry in camp, because my aunt Thelma took good care of me, but my mother was probably a bit traumatized. My parents never talked about the incarceration, so I started learning about it after my mother passed in 2004.

    ​I am not sure that the camp itself influenced my thinking; but the environment that my father built here in New Hope has increasingly become a haven for peace and source of inspiration.

    Mira photographed with the Mira chair in September 1952. The Mira chair is a three-legged variation on a Shaker theme which exemplifies Nakashima’s design philosophy, which apart from emphasizing the natural beauty of wood, the idea that furniture should be lived with and show the wear of everyday use. Photo courtesy of George Nakashima Woodworkers

    JC: George offered you a job in 1970. How did that happen? 

    MN: Good question! I don’t know exactly how or why it happened.  We were living in Pittsburgh and my father told me he had bought some land and was planning to build me a house. I wasn’t sure I wanted to come back home, but my former husband thought it was an offer too good to refuse, so we moved home with our three small children. I suspect it might have been at the suggestion of a lawyer friend who was concerned about the future of the business, and estate planning.

    ​After we had settled in, my parents offered me a job, but were a bit annoyed that I was unable to keep regular hours because of the children, and made me punch the clock and figure out my own pay hours. 

    JC: George fired you quite a few times! Why did that happen? 

    ​MN: My parents had sent me to Harvard College, where we were taught to think outside the box and to question authority. My father was of Samurai heritage, raised in a patriarchal society, and was educated in an era when architects’ authority was not to be questioned. When I arrived, there was no insurance of any kind and no benefits for the employees, and I thought that should be changed, so I was fired. I can’t remember the other issues, but my children got so used to it that when they saw me coming home at some odd hour they would ask me if I got fired again!

    Mira’s workplace practices have had long-lasting influences on Nakashima Woodworkers; some employees have been there for as many as 50 years. As much as it is about equitable workplace practices, the artisans believe that mastering the craft, which can take decades is essential.
    Craftsman Justin Taylor in the Finishing Room at Nakashima Woodworkers. Justin began as a groundskeeper in 2003 and is now head of the Finishing Department.
    Mira speaks with Craftswoman Alyssa Francis. Alyssa joined Nakashima Woodworkers in1995 and has rigorously learned about furniture, construction, details and history which she now passes onto younger staff who want to continue the craft.

    Editors note: The philosophy of Nakashima Woodworkers embodies the philosophy of shokunin (職人)which literally translated is “craftsman’ or ‘artisan,” but which has many other connotations. The shokunin approach emphasizes the pursuit of mastery over a lifetime, rather than quick success. Shokunin see their craft as a lifelong journey of continuous improvement and learning, rather than a means to an end. In order to achieve an environment of learning and exploration condusive to mastery of a craft an environment of selflessness and social responsibility is essential. The shokunin mindset includes a sense of social responsibility, where the owner is dedicated to providing the best possible experience for their employees and customers which contributes to the well-being of their community.

    Mira helping George ca. 1946 outside of old cottage on Aquetong Road. Photo courtesy of George Nakashima Woodworkers

    JC: Please tell us about the relationship with your father.

    ​​​MN: When I was very young, my father used to boast about how wonderful I was.  After he had taught me five words in five different languages, he used to say I was like the children in the Sri Aurobindo Ashram and could speak five languages!  My mother taught me to read and write before first grade, so I skipped first grade. After 1954 when my brother was born and I entered high school, it went downhill for the “built-in baby-sitter,” but Dad was very proud when I was accepted at both Radcliffe and Bryn Mawr Colleges. My father came to my wedding in Japan but my mother did not.

    ​JC: How have you assimilated all the elements of Soetsu Yanagi (Mingei), Antonin Raymond (Architect), and the Shakers, which George absorbed?

    MN: Slowly, an ongoing process! I absorbed a bit of the Shaker way of thinking when my second husband and I took the children to visit a Shaker village in Massachusetts. I found a book on Shaker furniture in the Studio and studied it when I wrote my book “Nature Form and Spirit” in 2003.  I didn’t read “The Unknown Craftsman” by Soetsu Yanagi until I went to Japan with my cousin John Terry to film his Nakashima documentary in the year 2000, and it gave my drafts new form and dimension.

    ​JC: How did he learn about the Shakers’ furniture? How did that affect you?

    ​MN: Dad’s best friend in Seattle was the artist Morris Graves, who gave Dad a book on 
    Shaker philosophy and furniture in the early 1940s.  The Quakers in Pennsylvania and the 
    Shakers in other places were not that far apart, and Dad embraced the simple utilitarian honesty of their designs and workmanship. I just grew up with it.

    ​JC: Have you worked with Isamu Noguchi or was it only a show that you created with him?

    MN: I have not worked with Isamu, nor did Dad.  After they were both gone, I put together a show of Nakashima furniture and Akari sculptures in Washington DC and wished it had happened while they were both alive!

    Mira Nakashima, “Tsuitate Sofa” designed in 2015. The Tsuitate Sofa exemplifies Mira’s approach to woodworking, while innovating but staying true to her father’s design sensibilities.

    JC: You designed 17 new works for George Nakashima Woodworkers. How have you adopted your new designs to your father’s tradition?

    MN: Basically, we have maintained my father’s tradition by adhering to the “old-fashioned” methods of production, as well as working with the lumber he left behind. Occasionally, there is a really odd piece of lumber or client request that will not conform very well to the old designs, so we invent new ones…but work within the limits of our existing technology. I worked under my father’s supervision for 20 years, sometimes tweaking things when he wasn’t looking, so I just continued. Evelyn Krosnick  (designer and client) and Robert Aibel (Moderne Gallery) both encouraged me to experiment and to create something new!

    Mira photographed in the Reception House (Sanso villa), constructed in 1975.

    Time in Japan & Spirituality

    JC: You studied Architecture in Waseda University (graduated 1966). Why did you go there?

    ​MN: I went to Japan the first time after graduating from college in 1963, with my godmother Mildred Johnstone and Alan Watts as our leader. When the tour was over, Aunt Milly went to Urasenke Tea Ceremony school in Kyoto and I studied Japanese in Tokyo while staying with my real Aunt Thelma.  My father had two architect friends in Tokyo from his days at the Raymond Office, Junzo Yoshimura and John Minami. Because I didn’t know Japanese very well, Yoshimura said I could be a special student at Geidai, but Minami said I could earn a real degree at Waseda, so I chose Waseda.

    JC: Was it the first time to visit in Japan?

    ​MN: The first time I got off the plane in Tokyo, I fit right in, because everyone was the same size as me and had the same color hair!  But, because I was with an American tour, I looked like I should understand Japanese and I could hardly understand anything!  After the tour, I stayed with Aunt Thelma, who lived among several other Americans, and I studied Japanese intensively. When I entered University, my classmates all wanted to learn English, so they helped me translate all the lectures I couldn’t understand!  After I married one of my classmates, I enjoyed pretending I was really Japanese, and sometimes fooled people!

    Detail of Nakashima Arts Building with the Concordia chair and portraits of Sri Aurobindo and Mirra Alfassa.

    JC: You wrote about sacred spaces in your graduate thesis when you studied at Waseda University. Can you tell me about it? 

    ​MN: My father had built a wooden church in Karuizawa when he was at the Raymond office, and designed another reinforced concrete one in Kyoto when I was in graduate school which became my responsibility to oversee. Tange Kenzo’s Cathedral and Olympic buildings were under construction, so It seemed a natural thing to write about what makes Sacred Spaces sacred.

    ​JC: George learned spirituality while he was in India. I heard you were named after an Indian spiritual leader

    ​MN: India was a mystery to me until my second husband and I went there after my father’s death. I couldn’t figure out how Dad could follow Sri Aurobindo and be a Catholic, but as Aurobindo practiced the integral Yoga, there was no conflict between any of the religions.

    ​JC: George described himself as a Hindu Catholic Shaker Japanese American. When did George become Catholic and why?

    MN: When Dad was first starting out in Seattle, he had no real workshop excepting that loaned to him by the Catholic Maryknoll Missionaries in Seattle. Father Leopold Tibesar was ministering to the Japanese American community, continued to do so when they were incarcerated, and commissioned one of Dad’s first projects in Karuizawa, later in Kyoto, and baptized Dad with no instruction. Dad always considered himself catholic with a small “c” and felt no boundaries between that and other religions. 

    JC: Are you Catholic as well?

    ​MN: Yes, but I was not baptized until I was about 13.

    ​JC: Sakura Seisakujo is only one entity who can create Nakashima furniture outside your company. How did it happen? How do you work with them? 

    MN: In 1964, the sculptor Masayuki Nagare (1923-2018) built his “Stone Crazy” wall for the World’s Fair in New York.  Dad invited him and his stonemasons to come to New Hope for steak dinner, which they did, and invited my father to visit them in Takamatsu some day.

    As I was attending Waseda at the time, Dad came to visit me and took me to Takamatsu to meet Nagare, the stone masons and the Minguren group of artisans who were trying to preserve the old craft traditions by adapting them to modern design.  They invited Dad to do a show made in Takamatsu and exhibited in Tokyo, and it was so successful they kept inviting him back to do more shows. During the process, Dad became very fond of the Japanese woodworkers particularly at Sakura Seisakusho, enjoyed producing shows there, and became good friends with the Nagami family. I first went there in 1988 because Dad was too busy preparing his retrospective show at the American Craft Museum, and was surprised that they treated me as if I were my father!  We too have been friends ever since and we have been working with the next generations at Sakura. We did a show for them last November.

    JC: Who are you major influences from Japanese culture?

    ​MN: My aunt Milly Johnstone was one of my father’s first sponsors, had danced with Martha Graham on Isamu Noguchi’s sets, and fell in love with the Japanese aesthetic.  She took me on my first trip to Japan, where we learned a lot about Zen Buddhism, poetry, painting, tea ceremony and architecture.

    Unique Technique

    The Conoid Studio. Photo: Courtesy of Kyoko Sato

    JC: The Conoid Studio was completed in 1959. What is the meaning of conoid?

    ​MN: The Conoid Studio was named after its shape, generated from a section of a cone.

    ​JC: How many buildings did George build in this location?

    ​MN: 12 major and three smaller buildings.

    ​JC: Have you built any building on the property yourself?

    ​MN: Yes the Pole Barn lumber storage. And I helped Dad build the stone wall of the House when I was about 5, then the mockup for the Pool House when I was about 17.

    JC: How and when did George learn about the butterfly technique?

    ​MN: I am pretty sure Dad must have known about butterflies when he was working for Raymond, but the actual inlay technique he might have learned from Gentaro Hikogawa when we were incarcerated at Minidoka during the war.

    ​JC: I believe your all of your furniture is made without nails. Is this practice still followed? 

    ​MN: We have never used nails, but we do use screws and glue, and occasionally small tacks.

    Mira adjusts a Table Lamp in the Reception House (Sanso villa).

    JC: What kind of material have you been using to achieve a paper-like look for lamps?

    ​MN: We used to use fiberglass, but now we use hand-made Washi paper laminated to a fire resistant plastic of some kind made by Hiro Odaira (creator of Washi art based in New York called Precious Pieces).

    ​JC: How many kinds of woods do you use? Where are they from?

    ​MN: We have about 50 species of wood available, but mostly Pennsylvania Black Walnut, Ash and Cherry.  We do have some California Redwood roots, Maple and Myrtle burl from Oregon, some Persian and English Walnut from my father’s time, a small amount of English Oak Burl and Scottish Elm Burl. 

    Slices of Redwood Root Burl stored in the warehouse designed by Mira.

    The Nakashima Center for Peace and the Future

    JC: Please tell me about the Foundation.

    ​MN: The Foundation was begun in 1984 by my father in order to fund his dream to create Altars for Peace on each continent of the world.  After his passing in 1990, we extended its mission to help preserve and protect all of his buildings and their contents on the property, and again to include programs to teach non violent conflict resolution and other ways to create a peaceful world. Right now, we do not have any concrete Altar sites selected, but are still searching.

    Mira enters the Nakashima Arts building. It features a soaring plywood hyperbolic paraboloid roof cantilevered from stone buttresses over two glass walls, built around a small pond and facing a series of small rooms known as the “Cloister,” harking back to the monastic tradition which so inspired George.
    George with the wood that would become the first Nakashima Peace Altar. It was installed in St. John the Divine in 1986. The wood came from the trunk of a 300-year-old black walnut tree. Photo courtesy of George Nakashima Woodworkers
    George’s first peace altar in St. John the Divine in New York City. The altar was installed and blessed on New Year’s eve, 1986. George said, “It is hoped that this table might become a physical symbol for peace, a peace that is central to our very existence on Earth.”
    The Nakashima Arts Building, was originally erected in 1967 to house the artwork of Ben Shahn. The mosaic was deigned by Shahn for the building, created in France and installed in 1971 after his passing. Later, it was given to the Nakashima Foundation for Peace in 2001 by George’s widow Marion so that the Foundation would have a permanent home.
    The Folk Art collection upstairs in the Nakashima Arts Building.

    JC: You have spoken about how we all are residents of this one planet in a video on your website.  What did you feel about discrimination against Asians during the recent pandemic? 

    ​​MN: I think anti Asian discrimination has always been worse on the West Coast because many of us had settled there before the War.  Dad always said it was stupid.  Blaming COVID-19 on all Asians was also stupid but human beings always seem to need someone to pick on and put down and blame for their own troubles.

    Katsutoshi Amagasu finishing a Plank Stool. He is the only one of Mira’s seven grandchildren who lives nearby. Toshi takes his name from George, whose middle name was Katsutoshi, and now works in many roles, including Finishing, apprenticing in Design, and assisting in Sales and Public Relations. Although he is just starting out, he is eager to learn the craft of his great grandfather George.

    JC: What is your vision for the future George Nakashima Woodworkers?

    ​MK: The future of Nakashima’s remains to be seen.  It would be nice to have a family member involved, but as long as there are good workers here who understand and respect the Nakashima tradition we hope to continue using that pile of wood my father left behind. 

    ​If it is family they have to work onsite. It cannot be done remotely. I now have two wonderful design assistants who are very hands-on as it should be, plus my grandson Toshi (Katsutoshi Amagasu) who is still in training and has not yet finished college. Toshi’s parents Soomi Hahn Amagasu and Satoru Amagasu have been great contributors to the team. We also are looking forward to our two newest woodworkers, one of whom is working part time because she is still in school, and another Japanese American craftswoman who has just finished up a year of training at a Japanese craft school!

    Mira passes Toshi a cup of tea in the Conoid studio. Hopefully it is Toshi’s generation who will hopefully carry on the legacy of Nakashima Woodworkers.

    Mira Nakashima-designed furniture is available at the 1950 Gallery located on 44 East 11th Street New York, NY 10003, featuring exquisite pieces such as a 14-foot American walnut dining table supported by Mira’s Michiko base, complemented by 14 armchairs, a design celebrated with a prestigious prize at the Brussels world’s Fair in 1958. Additionally, the Gallery showcases an exceptionally large English walnut root coffee table accompanied by eight Conoid lounge chairs.

    ​Nakashima Woodworkers Visits

    Design appointments may be made Monday through Friday between 9am-4pm. We are no longer open on Saturdays excepting for tours by reservation, excluding all major holidays.

    Please call 215-862-2272 or e-mail info@nakashimawoodworkers.com to make a design appointment or for more information on starting the Nakashima Design Process make an inquiry.


  • A 20 Year Portrait of the Anthropocene

    A 20 Year Portrait of the Anthropocene

    June 7, 2023. A lone ship made its way north on the East river. As winds blew smoke from the Canadian fires south, much of the United States has been underneath a smoky toxic fog. Air quality was the worst on record. Photographed for National Geographic.

    A 20 Year Portrait of the Anthropocene

    On May 29, 2004, I boarded a Chinook helicopter in Port-au-Prince following one of the most devastating flooding events in Haiti’s history for The New York Times. A day before, U.S. Marines, stationed on the island ostensibly to maintain peace during a time of unrest, were on a routine patrol when one of the sighters noticed something unusual: a lake that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Days earlier, there had been no sign of it. Skeptical, the pilot hesitated to investigate, but the sighter insisted, and as they flew closer, the sight was undeniable—where a village once was a lake had formed overnight after torrential rains inundated the region killing people in their sleep as cascading waters flooded down the barren hillsides. Over 200 lives were lost. At the time, I was unaware of the term Anthropocene, but it was clear we were in it.

    Over the past 20 years since descending on the submerged village,I have documented Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans the devastating impacts of Hurricanes Harvey and Sandy in Houston and New York, and the smoke-cloaked skies of wildfire-stricken regions across the United States. However, no single event underscores the fragility of our future more than the meltdown at the Fukushima power plant. Though triggered by a tsunami, the disaster highlighted the broader implications of rising sea levels, which threaten to push future tsunamis and hurricanes farther inland, magnifying the risks to both infrastructure and human life.

    If these past decades are any indication, the years to come will bring more profound change. Rising sea levels will redraw coastlines, displacing millions and threatening major cities as they have already done in Fox Beach, erasing an entire New York neighborhood and returning it to nature. The cascading effects of climate change—on food security, water resources, and global migration—will intensify, demanding coordinated action on a scale never before seen.

  • Memories of the Future

    Memories of the Future

    This series is a meditation on art, history, and culture, focusing on locations most at risk from sea level rise.

    I began this series in Venice in 2020, months before the pandemic struck. When I captured these images, the president of the United States frequently extolled the the greatness of Western culture. Walking along Venice’s canals, surrounded by magnificent buildings rich with history, I couldn’t help but agree. Yet, where I diverged was in thinking: how will we protect this place—and others like it? If anything, it is our own behavior—prioritizing extraction over preservation and respect for the natural world—that threatens this civilization.

    I chose Venice as the starting point for this series because I, too, was reflecting on culture—not just Western culture, but our shared humanity, of which the West is a vital part, often unfairly vilified in the name of political correctness. We cannot separate the environment from culture, nor culture from civilization. Beyond being a meditation on how all things ascend, decay, and fall apart as part of life’s cycle, this series is a call to preserve what should not be lost too soon.

    Nearly five years later, the same president who once extolled Western culture is back in office, and Europe faces elections that could elevate leaders with similar ideologies. This work asks a crucial question: for those who proclaim the greatness of their culture, what are they doing to ensure it is passed on to future generations? How can the grandeur of centuries survive if the current leadership prioritizes extraction over preservation and neglects the health of our planet?

    During the height of the pandemic, as everything seemed to unravel, I degraded the photographs using the same seawater that now threatens our civilization. As I submerged the photos in salt water, each moment degraded in its own way—some slipped away quickly, while others decayed more slowly—it was like watching cancer patients wither away. As seas rise and civilizations burn, the responsibility rests squarely on this generation’s leaders to halt the spread of this cancer for the places we all hold dear. They cannot extol the greatness of culture while depleting the very resources that sustain it.


    Armada


    Soggiorno


    Passo


    L’Elegante


    Cameriere


    Lampada


    Gondola


    Pointe di Rialto


    L’Abito Rosso


    Visto


    Trio

  • Billion Oyster Project

    Tanasia Swift (center), the Community Reefs Regional Manager at the Billion Oyster Project takes oysters from the Paerdegat Basin in Canarsie, Brooklyn to be monitored by students who were invited to learn about the waterway and the role oysters have in it.

    The Billion Oyster Project

    Originally published in Civil Eats.

    When Hurricane Sandy struck New York on October 29, 2012, it deluged every neighborhood it hit. Seven years later, many neighborhoods—including Coney Island, Canarsie in Brooklyn, and points all along the shore of Staten Island—are still recovering. Others, such as Staten Island’s Fox Beach, were destroyed in their entirety, never to have residents again.

    With these events in all too recent memory, New Yorkers know how susceptible they are to climate change and are at the forefront of developing new approaches to the climate crisis, with the city’s young people getting especially involved. As the recent youth climate strikes that brought hundreds of thousands to New York’s streets attest, the younger generations—those who will be most affected by climate change—are taking concrete steps to try to turn back the tide, quite literally.

    One of the programs that is engaging youth is the Billion Oyster Project. While the project’s founding goal aimed to to make the “waters surrounding New York City cleaner, more abundant, more well-known, more well-loved,” it has a more pressing role in the time of accelerating climate change: creating oyster reefs that can help blunt storm surges that accompany hurricanes by breaking up the waves before they hit land.

    To date, the program has planted 28 million oysters with the help of thousands of volunteers and high school students. An offshoot of this outreach is that young people are engaging with the waterfront like never before. This has strengthened communities and led to relationships between young and old who might not have ever known each other had the climate crisis not brought them together.

    Tanasia Swift, pictured at top, is the Community Reefs Regional Manager at the Billion Oyster Project. She grew up in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, one of the most urban places in the city. However, for as long as she can remember, she wanted to be a marine biologist. Her inseparable bond to New York’s waterways formed when she’d go to Red Hook with her father to fish as a child. She now leads efforts to install community reefs in South Brooklyn, which was badly impacted by Hurricane Sandy.

    Students from Baruch College take oysters from the Paerdegat Basin.

    On this day, Swift leads students from Public School 115 studying oysters and learning about the basin with a meditation. For her, the program is as much about regenerating community as it is about ecology. Before the students get technical knowledge, Swift wants them to develop a connection to the environment and gain an awareness of things they might not have been conscious of before.

    By closing their eyes, breathing simply and instructing them to be aware of all that their senses perceive, the children slowly take in the world around them. After they reopen their eyes, she asked them what they experienced. “I didn’t know it smelled like the ocean, we’re so close to the water, I didn’t know we were this close,” one of the students said. They would also talk about hearing birds and the water lapping against the nearby shore, things they were not aware of when their eyes were open.

    Students meditate before their discoveries.

    At first when children pick up crabs, they find their claws intimidating and drop them right away. Explaining that they need to respect the small creatures, instructors told the children they could freak out before and after they touched the crabs, but not while they touched them. After taking this advice to heart, the students took deep breaths and picked up the crabs, holding them in the pit of their palms. One girl, through giggles, said that once the crab was on her and scuttling across her skin, there actually wasn’t anything to be afraid of.

    At first when children pick up crabs, they find their claws intimidating and drop them right away. Explaining that they need to respect the small creatures, instructors told the children they could freak out before and after they touched the crabs, but not while they touched them. After taking this advice to heart, the students took deep breaths and picked up the crabs, holding them in the pit of their palms. One girl, through giggles, said that once the crab was on her and scuttling across her skin, there actually wasn’t anything to be afraid of.

    Students from PS 115 finished their day by heading down to the dock in single file where they saw oysters and creatures that live in them closer to their habitat. For the students, being outside of their school was to enter into a living laboratory. Their school is within a mile of the water, however living in urban Brooklyn it was as if the water was a world away as many had never been to it.
    The Billion Oyster Project has dozens of projects throughout New York City. One of them is 8 miles away from Canarsie in Coney Island Creek.

    The waters there are heavily polluted and there is a stench of fetid death all around. For years, the creek has been like this: home to the rotting hulls of ships and a dumping ground for discarded tires, rusting shopping carts and anything else people want to dump without being seen. However, The Billion Oyster Project hopes to change that and bring life back to this body of water. They currently have planted 160,000 oyster beds in Coney Island Creek with the goal of bringing the total to 200,000. October 29, 2012 was a pivotal date for Coney Island. It was then that Hurricane Sandy struck, transforming it from the place the world knew as home to funhouses and roller coasters to a frontline community most vulnerable to the climate crisis. In a blog post Tanasia said: “The motivations for installing a reef at Coney Island Creek have as much to do with awareness as with restoration. Some people go swimming in the creek at times when it is dangerous to do so, such as after combined sewage overflows (CSOs). Some shy away from the creek entirely, worrying that it’s always dangerous to touch the water. Part of this reef’s purpose is to provide a way for people to better get to know, and safely interact with, the water near their homes.”

    The Billion Oyster Project has dozens of projects throughout New York City, and one is eight miles away from Canarsie in Coney Island Creek, which flows into New York Harbor. The waters there are heavily polluted, and a stench hangs all around.

    Photo: Berenice Abbott from the collection of the New York Public Library. In 1937 when this photo was taken, oysters were so plentiful that they’d commonly be seen piled up along the waterways and outside of the restaurants that served them.

    In 1937, when the above photo was taken, oysters were so plentiful that they’d commonly be seen piled up along the waterways and outside of the restaurants that served them. Later, when reefs were dredged up or covered in silt and the water quality was too poor for oysters to regenerate, the reefs began to precipitously decline. Like the Coney Island Creek now, New York Harbor was toxic and nearly lifeless for more than 50 years until the passage of the Clean Water Act in 1972, which prohibited dumping waste and raw sewage into the harbor.

    The Billion Oyster Project partners with restaurants thought New York who donate their shells to the program after eating the oysters. Once the shells are collected, oyster larvae are placed in the shells and attached to the surface where they will then grow to become oysters themselves.

    By 2035, the Billion Oyster Project hopes to have distributed 1 billion live oysters around 100 acres of reefs, which the project says will make “the harbor once again the most productive water body in the North Atlantic and reclaim its title as the oyster capital of the world.”

    Tourists take in the last day’s light along the east river in Dumbo which was deluged when Hurricane Sandy struck. The Billion Oyster Project currently has oyster reefs just to the north of this beach. In the future new oyster reefs will populate this portion of the river to protect the place that the world knows as New York’s best location to take in the last light of day.
  • Published

    Published

  • DCCK

    DCCK

    Portraits of DCCK’s 130th Culinary Job Training Class

    Originally published in Civil Eats.

    DC Central Kitchen (DCCK), founded in 1989 by Robert Egger, began as a small community kitchen aimed at addressing immediate hunger in Washington, D.C. However, its mission extends beyond feeding the hungry; it also seeks to create long-lasting change through community-driven solutions and job creation. Students are encouraged not only to seek employment but also to become entrepreneurs and pursue their culinary ambitions as chefs in their own right.

    Beyond mastering technical expertise, many have found resilience and personal growth through self-empowerment classes led by instructor Jeffrey Rustin. “There’s a lot of pain, a lot of trauma,” Rustin said. “If you see what some of these students went through to get here, it’s just amazing. And sometimes, they’re trying to be the first one in their family to graduate from anything.”

    I spoke with the graduates of DC Central Kitchen’s 130th Culinary Job Training class about their dreams and aspirations as they were about to to step into the culinary world. As they prepare for the final phase of the program—externships in professional kitchens—the students reflect on their journey.

    The following text is by Lisa Held.


    Pamela Johnson

    Johnson’s externship at the Ritz Carlton is starting on Monday and her excitement is palpable. “I am ready!” she says, laughing. She loves baking and already sells the treats she makes, like cupcakes and chocolate-covered strawberries, to friends and family. She wants to build on that and rent her own space to open a bakery.

    Project Empowerment, a workforce development program for residents with employment barriers including lack of education, history of substance abuse, homelessness, and incarceration, pointed her toward the culinary job training program.

    Johnson said she has appreciated learning to portion dishes and breaking down chicken and fish, but she wished there was more baking included. Still, the program “really helped me stay more focused and stop worrying about everything else,” she said. “It helped me leave my drama at home when I came through the door.”


    Vincent Stewart

    Stewart started the culinary job training program in class 127 and then again in 128. “I first had my kid, I was struggling,” he said. “I was trying to come up here, but I couldn’t do it. I had to get myself together.”

    Now, he’s eager to talk about how his knife skills have improved and is about to start an externship at a hotel restaurant, which will be the last push before graduation. He’s thinking a food truck might be in his future. “[The program] gave me some confidence,” he said.


    Roshae McCraw

    At 21, McCraw has already been through a lot, including a year in prison that was the result of a situation involving domestic violence, she said.

    She’s also brimming with ideas. “I wanted to be a singer, a painter, a knitter,” she said. “And then I started cooking again.” McCraw said she loved seeing her family enjoy meals she made—like stuffed shells with ground turkey—and when another community organization suggested she apply to the culinary job training program, she decided to do it.

    She has been working on communication and expressing herself, which made her realize that her initial plan to open a restaurant wasn’t the right fit. Instead, she wants to fuse art and food in a museum environment. “You’re walking around looking at the exhibits and you can actually taste it,” she said. “That’s my dream career.” “[The program] gave me some confidence,” he said.


    Kenneth McPherson

    “I’m a better person,” McPherson says, simply, describing how his time in the job-training program has helped him with things like developing courage and a positive attitude.

    Now, he can focus on what he loves: making dishes like fried chicken, baked chicken, mac and cheese, and cabbage, and McPherson is confident he’ll have his own soul food restaurant someday.

    Given how much he’s gained through DC Central Kitchen, he also wants to give back to his community. “I want to help others who are less fortunate,” he said.] gave me some confidence,” he said.


    David Gibson

    Gibson was incarcerated for more than 28 years. In prison, he was the head cook, preparing meals for 1,800 people at a time. But in the training program, he learned a new kind of kitchen etiquette, he said. “I learned to say, ‘Yes, chef!’” he said, smiling.

    But Gibson was also open about how difficult it had been for him to stick with the training due to his struggles with alcoholism. “It’s just so hard not to drink,” he said. His housing situation was contributing to the challenge, so Rustin helped him find new housing, He also gave Gibson new responsibilities to encourage him to stay sober.

    The approach worked so well, Gibson doesn’t want to leave. He sees his future path as working for DC Central Kitchen. “The whole experience is just so beautiful,” he said.


    Quenzel Goff

    Grilled chicken, mushrooms, and asparagus. “At home, that’s all. I cook that all day every day,” Goff said enthusiastically, describing his favorite meal.

    But like Gibson, over the past several weeks, he’s been working through trauma as much as he’s been chopping and sautéing. Four years ago, his daughter passed away. “I got into trouble a couple of times in the past because I had trouble with my anger,” he said. “It kind of still haunts me to this day, because I wasn’t there for her.”

    In Goff’s mind, Rustin’s self-empowerment classes helped him even more than previous attempts at therapy did. “Once I came here and started opening up about my past, it just became more comfortable, and I started trusting,” he said. Now, Goff wants to draw on his passion for cooking for his family and previous experience acting to forge a path for himself. “My long-term goal is to find somewhere I can incorporate acting and food together,” he said.


    Dominic Rebudan

    Just three years ago, in 2019, Rebudan arrived from the Philippines. As the only immigrant in the class, one of his challenges has been communicating in English. While he speaks it fluently, he finds it difficult to express himself fully, he said.

    In self-empowerment class, he worked through a more emotional issue: forgiving his mother, who left him behind in their home country when he was a child. Rebudan said he has made significant progress, and his first priority after graduation is helping his mother fix up a house they still have in the Philippines.

    Ultimately, though, he wants to use his growing knowledge of American food to open a restaurant that fuses American and Filipino cuisine. “This is my first step to my future,” he said.


    Lavon Woods

    Raising six children of her own has been challenging, but Woods is also thinking about cooking for kids. While she ultimately wants to cook refined versions of Southern comfort food dishes, during the training program, she decided she was interested in trying out school food, first.

    “I thought, ‘Maybe I do want to be a chef, but I want to be more than that . . . by working with children and healthy eating,’” she said. She’s already working on getting the paperwork done that will allow her to apply for positions in the D.C. school system.


    Zachary Thompson

    Thompson, who also came to the program through Project Empowerment, liked learning how to break down chicken and fish, but another technique really stuck with him: making cauliflower rice.

    The test for ServSafe certification, which quizzes kitchen staff on food safety requirements and practices, was challenging, he said, but worthwhile.

    Both will come in handy as he works on getting his idea for a vegan food truck off the ground. “Right now, I’m at the stage where I’m getting all the information, and then I’ll work on the finance part,” he said. “It’s basically having a business model and a business plan. I feel more comfortable now, so I can take the next step.”


    Billy Chandler

    A caseworker at a shelter Chandler was staying at told him about the program. He had been interested in cooking after working at Henry’s Soul Food café, a D.C. institution that also recently added a job-training course.

    Chandler is so quiet you have to get very close to hear him, and getting along with everyone in the program was tough for him. Teamwork, he said, was a challenge.

    But with the new knife skills he has picked up, he said he’s ready to get to work as a prep cook or a line cook. Someday, he hopes to own a jerk chicken truck.

  • The 15 Mile Solution

    The 15 Mile Solution was originally published in Civil eats. Best viewed on desktop or tablet. For smart phone viewing please view in landscape setting.