I've shone the spotlight on several composers who had written melodies for Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎) in my articles on the Preeminent Enka Singer, but one whom I don't think I've ever really talked about was Toshiyo Kamata (鎌多俊与).
Kamata was born Toshio Kamata (釜田俊雄) on 16th November 1913 in Sado, Niigata, and passed away in 1995. He was graduate of Musashino Academia Musicae, and he was a originally a ryukoka singer during the prewar era but shifted career tracks and became just a composer at King Records. There, he would spawn several hits for the contract singers. He's probably best known for Michiya Mihashi's (三橋美智也) Aishu Ressha (哀愁列車).
To my surprise, Kamata only composed 11 songs for Hachi, which is on the low end. Indeed, I feel like I barely see his name, but I believe he's most recognised for Izakaya (居酒屋), Charumera Jinsei (チャルメラ人生), and Ore wa Nora Inu (俺は野良犬). Ruten Garasu (流転がらす) is also a personal favourite of mine.
Let's talk about his prewar singer days. There is barely any easily accessible information on him, even less so on his early career. But what I do know is that he debuted under King Records in 1936 under the stage name Hachiro Konoe (近衛八郎). As Konoe, he was known for gunka and gunkoku kayo (military songs, wartime songs), like Otoko nara (男なら), sung with Isao Hayashi (林伊佐緒) and Shizuo Higuchi (樋口静雄), and Aa, Waga Senyu (あゝ我が戦友). However, Konoe seemed to have a rocky time during the war(s), having been sent to the frontlines in late 1937 when the Second Sino-Japanese War erupted. He returned safely in mid-1940 and continued his singing career for a bit. I'm not too sure what happened after, but a publication in 1947 suggested that he may have been shipped off to the frontlines again, and his whereabouts up to that point were unknown. Thankfully, as we see from his long tenure as a composer at postwar King, he was fine - lucky man!
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| He's so cute (*艸) |
Even though there is little on Kamata, there are some pictures of him, mostly from his Konoe days. And, by golly, that puppy dog face had me instantly star-struck! I'd be lying if I said that that didn't spur me to look into his prewar works. I don't like gunka, so I searched high and low for anything not of that sort. I was able to dredge out a whopping three songs. What a lovely variety.
Among the three, I went with Hanami Dochu (Sakura-viewing Travels).
Renowned composer Nosho Omura (大村能章) crafted a melody with a strong traditional Japanese flavour, filled with what sounds like the ko-zutsumi drums accompanied by the shamisen. Kazuharu Matsuki's (松木一晴) - I'm not sure about how the name is pronounced - lyrics present the joyous atmosphere of spring and the rowdy festivities that come with admiring the sakura in full bloom. Indeed, Omura’s tune is upbeat and celebratory, but it somehow also has a certain elegance to it despite the raucous sound.
Despite the popularity of his aforementioned representative hits, I actually didn't know how Konoe sounded, so Hanami Dochu served as my introduction to the voice of one of the men whose names I saw so often. True to his debut introduction in a 1936 magazine, he had a booming baritone that rattled my insides. A wild contrast to that golden retriever-like appearance. However, it was more his delivery that had me raising my eyebrows. What made it hard for me to swallow initially was the fact that he sounded so unlike several classically-trained pop singers from the 30s when singing traditional Japanese-sounding ryukoka. They just sounded “normal.” Why did I think Konoe sounded so “weird”?
During a discussion some time ago, my prof had brought up a niche genre that surfaced for a short time during the nascent years of the Showa era. This was about when the push to modernise (Westernise) and “improve” the condition of local music (among other things) by imbuing it with Western elements was still strong. For the life of me, I cannot remember what this genre was called, but it was essentially singing traditional music like min’yo utilising Western classical singing methods. While the combination seems hard to reconcile, it vaguely sounded like current-day enka but with a stronger opera-like quality to my ears. It also reminded me of the great tenor Yoshie Fujiwara (藤原義江) when he were to sing ryukoka back in the late 20s.
Then it dawned on me: Konoe singing Hanami Dochu felt somewhat like this, as though he wasn't compromising his classical foundations even though he's tackling a traditional-sounding pop song. Then again, maybe Konoe just had a highly idiosyncratic vocal style. Whatever it is, I still think he sounds rather odd, but I was eventually able to somewhat appreciate the warbling I was hearing. It's kinda endearing. Sort of.
I'm not sure when this song was released, but going by the record number and label, it was probably sometime in early 1936. A little tidbit on SP record technicalities, I reckon you might have noticed in the video that the record label is that of Polydor Records and not King. Well, that's because this record seemed to have been made when King Records was still under a joint initiative with Polydor Records, which lasted from 1931 to 1936. Hence, the record label has Polydor on it instead of King, but recorded by Konoe, who was affiliated with King. Apparently, you can tell by the record numbers: If it was released between 1931 and early 1936, and it had a “K” leading a set of numbers, it’s King; if it’s just numbers, it’s Polydor. (I'm by no means an expert on the record medium itself, I only just learned this recently and thought I'd share the knowledge of deciphering cryptic record numbers from one company.)
As per tradition, I had come up with a nickname for Kamata/Konoe. For a while, I jokingly called him "Hachi 2", but I felt terrible - for both Kamata and my Hachi. In the end, I settled on Toshi-san.
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| (*艸) From 78MUSIC |
Hello, Noelle. Thanks very much for your very informative and personal article on Kamata who I had never heard of before. That's a fascinating bit of data on the fusion of min'yo and Western elements. I'm wondering if the people behind it were aiming for what was called "beautiful music" of the 1920s which was the music going up against the supposedly "evil" jazz of the time ("beautiful music" was often played at lavish tea parties and weddings).
ReplyDeleteAs I was listening to "Hanami Dochu", I was reminded a bit of the songs of Jeannette MacDonald & Nelson Eddy...of course with that Japanese touch.