Life in Limbo

Chop wood, carry water…

With Broadway and regional theatre companies starting to open up again, there does seem to be some more hope in the air (even in the midst of the still-terrible news cycle). However, for many artists including myself, this can make the desire to get back in the game even more excruciating. A lot of us are simply waiting for the gigs to pop up again, and any gig not gained can smart even more pointedly than before. We’re still living life in limbo.

So, how does one cope? Honestly, it’s hard. There’s no way around that. But an Eastern proverb keeps coming to my mind lately: “Before Enlightenment: chop wood, carry water. After Enlightenment: chop wood, carry water.” I may be a bit free in my interpretation of the proverb, but I read it as the work is always the same. I still have shows to write and songs to compose, whether the activity in the world around me is buzzing with new life or not. And as difficult as it is to sit myself down and write, that’s my job, that’s my work.

What's in a name?

When I was younger, I hated my last name. Not in Korean, mind you. It flowed and made sense when spoken in the context of its home language. But in the mouths of non-Koreans, in particular those who had not a clue about how to pronounce Asian names in general (“it’s just so confusing!”), the name felt clunky. An intrusion. An interruption. An inconvenience. Or even worse, when it flowed too easily, it felt like an onomatopoeia. The kind people will use to disparage Asian names. Saying “My name is Min Kahng” felt like a punchline to a racist joke.

How to explain the pronunciation of 강? How to explain to non-linguists that that K is more like a G, but aspirated? That the “ah” is actually brighter than you think?

But it’s ok. I don’t need you to pronounce it 강. Kahng is an acceptable approximation. In English, it will *always* be mispronounced. My own attempts are colored by my American accent anyway.

I don’t even care if you get it wrong (once or twice) and make it rhyme with “hang.” Or if it’s misspelled (I get it. You’re used to seeing “Khan,” cuz... Genghis...? Star Trek, I guess? So that H gets tossed about. Sometimes even ending up on the tail of my first name. The most egregious spelling I’ve gotten? “Kahagn”). As long as you’re open to me correcting you, and I promise I’ll try to do so gracefully (for the first couple of times at least...), we’re good.

But give it an eye roll? Nuh-uh...
Talk about it like it’s ruining your day? No thank you.
Make it about you and turn my last name into an excuse to talk through all your insecurities around public speaking or name recollection? I’m a busy man, can I have my name back, please...?

강 is a river.
강 is strong.
강 is as complicated as my relationship with the man from whom I inherited it.
강 holds a history of dynasties and kingdoms that Kahng could never hold.

But Kahng has its own history too. A history of reclaiming something. Of finding confidence. Kahng is what I’ve got. In its imperfectly anglicized form.
Kahng rhymes with “song.”
Kahng is a needle. It slices into your comfortable tongue and causes you mild discomfort.
Kahng is a crowbar, wedging open space for itself to belong.

I wish I could give you a Pinterest quote about how proud I am now of Kahng. My levels of pride, love, frustration fluctuate every day. But at the very least, I no longer hate my last name. And I’ll be damned if I let you make me feel ashamed about it.

And this isn’t just about my name. But my name’s siblings and cousins and third cousins twice removed, distant relatives from other continents. Give any, any of them ‘tude, and you will see just how strong a river this 강 can be.

Where the Mountain Meets the Moon coming to South Coast Rep

Next month, Where the Mountain Meets the Moon: A Musical Adaptation will receive its third production – this time at South Coast Rep in Costa Mesa, CA. I’m so excited to see director Jennifer Chang’s vision for the piece come to life! If you’re in the SoCal area, be sure to get your tickets soon, as seats are starting to fill up!

From Manga to Musical: The Four Immigrants Reading at USC

Top L to R: Julia Weiner, Stella Kim, Kurt Kanazawa, Ewan Chung, Scott Keiji Takeda, Reuben Uy, Min Kahng, Frederik L. Schodt. Bottom L to R: Jully Lee, Yumi Iwama, Sophie Oda, Julia Cho, Leslie Martinson

Last week, Artists At Play and USC Visions & Voices presented the panel and concert presentation of The Four Immigrants at Cammilleri Hall on the USC campus. The evening was electric and everything went phenomenally well! The event was even covered in on-campus media with this lovely article by Yixin Zhou!

Zhou writes: “The performance and discussion drew a large crowd. Some audience members had to stand throughout the performance since the house was filled. But that didn’t stop audiences from fully engaging in the show, laughing and sighing along as they watched the story of these four friends unfold.”

Thank you to all who help bring this concert reading to life, and to all who attended!

Learning to Research Smarter

I have completionist tendencies. Rather than stop when the enjoyment or meaning stops, I will carry on with a book or a video game or a TV series, because I feel compelled to finish it. I’m learning, however, that life is too short to be focusing on things that aren’t bringing me enjoyment. And the completionist tendency is tied somehow to guilt. I’ve associated not finishing with being lazy or wasteful, especially if I’ve spent money or a considerable amount of time on a thing already. I’m learning, though, that sometimes it’s actually wise to know when to stop doing something, and I have been able to more frequently say “I’m done” in the middle of things.

This completionist tendency has translated into my research as well. For my writing projects, I will often build a long list of media to research, and internally declare that I will consume each piece of media in its entirety. More often than not, I don’t get through all the media. Or even worse, I get stuck. I might get to the relevant stuff in a research book, and then realize I still have 100 pages left. Cue the guilt. Even though I can make a good guess that the remainder of the book will not be relevant to my project, I still feel bad that I’m not finishing it. Or I might ask for recommendations from others on what I could read, and then feel overwhelmed at the volume of texts and films I “need” to go through.

But, as I said, I’ve been learning. For Untitled, I did do a crowdsourced recommendation on research books, but then sifted through each one to determine whether it was actually appropriate for my purposes. And yesterday, I started reading a book, then got to a section that I realized was not relevant to my project and decided I would skip it. There is still a lingering guilt in the back of my mind. But I believe that’s the rational brain acting up in the face of letting intuition take the lead. Besides, the rational brain should also realize that there’s no way, no time, for me to go through every possible research material in its entirety. It should be happy that I’m trying to figure out a smarter way to research.