Rikōran/Hamako Watanabe/Akira Matsudaira — Hōrī Jun Zairai/Heri Jun Zailai (何日君再来)

Disclaimer: Because this is an extremely well-known song internationally with many covers in various languages, I have chosen to only feature the versions from the Showa teens by Japanese* ryukoka singers to narrow the article’s scope. Also, I'll use the Chinese and Japanese titles relatively interchangeably, but will mainly refer to it in Japanese, unless I'm talking about the Mandarin version.

Oh, boy, “Heri Jun Zailai”, or “Hōrī Jun Zairai” (its Japanese pronunciation). It takes me way back to my formative years. I was always told about how its title was a seed of controversy during the 2nd Sino-Japanese War because of how the character 君, meaning something like “young gentleman” sounds the same as 军/軍, meaning “soldier”. Put 日 and 军 together and you get “Japanese Soldier”. The rest of the title translates to “When will ___ return?” You see why it was/is a spicy subject? Yet, from what I’ve briefly read recently, it was a sentimental love song originally written by Chinese songwriters (Bei Lin and Yen Lu) for a Chinese audience in Shanghai without this twisted meaning.

Anyways, as an empty-brained child far-removed from the terrors of history, the title controversy was just a tidbit of song trivia from Mom. In hindsight, I wonder if that trivia did unwittingly stain the song in my mind unconsciously. Still, I also never really thought to listen to “Heri Jun Zailai” even though I had an inkling about its vast popularity. I, however, have this very, very vague memory that I may have checked out Aska from Chage and Aska’s version. My impression was that it was a slow ballad and I wasn’t too into it. And so this impression stuck for over a decade. I only reconnected with the tune just last year when reading "Songs of the Empire: Continental Asia in Japanese Wartime Popular Music" (2003), a dissertation by Edgar Pope on Tairiku songs/Tairiku mono (大陸もの)/China Melody, and Chinese exoticism in Japanese pop music during the early 20th century. For context, Tairiku mono was a term used for kayo featuring mainly the theme of China from around the late 1930s to the early 1940s. Pope mentioned that it eventually came to include other parts of Southeast Asia when Imperial Japan moved down into the region. However, I think it’s generally understood that Tairiku mono equals China-themed kayo. 

Same, Akira-san
From "松平晃、ミス・コロムビアらが参加した、
コロムビア芸術団の慰問風景を収めた貴重映像！"

I have a strange affinity for Tairiku mono, hence my excitement in reading a full-blown dissertation on the topic. My grandfather, however, would probably give me the stink eye because, as Pope very clearly showed in some songs, many of them were pieces of exoticism that were produced as a result of Imperial Japan's further encroachment into the Chinese continent. Some of them were meant to enchant/convince Japanese listeners about the potentials of the new lands and contained a truckload of (racist) stereotypes. That’s not to say that there weren’t songwriters who wrote Tairiku mono because they were truly impressed by the culture and hoped to actually bridge the gap between China and Japan via music, though. Many were made to fit current events and were a likely way to ensure safe passage through the censors. I think many of these Tairiku mono are wonderful songs as they are, so it is regrettable that they have a dark history attached to them.

But, tangent aside, when you talk about popular “Chinese” songs in Japan at the time, one can’t do without “Hōrī Jun Zairai”. What I most vividly remember reading in Pope's was him describing the melody as having a tango flavour. Another thing about me is that I really enjoy kayo/ryukoka that are tango-inspired (tango-cho). Its snappy rhythm often giving a more dramatic flair and romantic atmosphere to the song. Combined that with a Tairiku mono? *Cue Takehei Hayashiya (林家たけへい)* Tamaranai. I mean, one of my favourite songs is literally called “China Tango”. So, learning that prewar “Hōrī Jun Zairai” was of tango-cho piqued my interest greatly and shattered the impression of it being a slow ballad. 

Ohama-san's version

Since I was reading about Tairiku mono, I figured I go with the Japanese version for Japanese audiences. The version I first picked to (re)listen to “Hōrī Jun Zairai” was the version from none other than the Queen of China Melody, Hamako Watanabe (渡辺はま子). In the Japanese version, the song's words were mostly translated into Japanese save for the titular, "Heri Jun Zailai" at the end of each stanza. This translation was done by Tsuneo Nagata (長田恒雄). Ohama-san's delicate soprano expresses our protagonist's bittersweet memories of the lover with whom (she) parted with, and hoping that (he) would soon return. The beautiful and languid accordion-filled tango-inspired melody makes (her) longing even more palpable. Minus the historical context, this perhaps feels like your typical long-distance relationship angsts fit for any time period. With the historical context, I reckon it could be read as a soldier leaving his loved one after being sent off to war. I have a darker interpretation to fit the period's situation, but I do not want to mar this song any more than it already has been, so I will leave it at that.

Excerpt from "Byakuran no Uta"

Anyways, Ohama-san's version actually came a little later as Japanese-Chinese film and music star Rikōran (李香蘭), a.k.a. Yoshiko Yamaguchi (山口淑子), had recorded it in Mandarin first for a Japanese audience. Even earlier, it was originally recorded by Chinese songstress Zhou Xuan (周璇), but for the domestic Chinese market. According to Pope, Ri's rendition was released in Japan in April 1939 and seemed to be quite the sensation. From the video above, even popped up in the Japan-Chinese "friendship" *ahempropaganda* film (Kokusaku eiga) "Byakuran no Uta" (白蘭の歌) which starred Ri and Kazuo Hasegawa (長谷川一夫) from November 1939, the former playing a Chinese woman who fell in love with a Japanese railway engineer played by the latter.  

Ri's original recording

Ri, known for her fluency in both Japanese and Mandarin, was the poster girl for Japan-China relations back in the day (at least), so it was not surprising that she was made to sing "Heri Jun Zailai". The video here features her fully Mandarin version from 1939. As Pope also noted, the original lyrics by Bei Lin differed slightly from Nagata's Japanese translation, wherein the couple in the song have yet to part and are having one last night together. It includes Ri's spoken dialogue which is actually the protagonist's lover happily telling her to not be upset and offers her drinks/a toast over dinner. However, the singer's soft delivery going, "When will you return?" just shows that the jolly toasts are simply a façade. Comparing the versions I've talked about so far, putting aside the language difference, Ohama-san's version somehow gives off a more angsty edge, as compared to Ri's, whose gives off a slightly more melancholic vibe. Perhaps its the even slower tempo and a simpler arrangement similar to the very first recording by Zhou.

Ri's latter day (?) recording

I also came across this version here that I reckon could be a postwar recording since Ri's silk-like voice sounded more mature. But, correct me if I'm wrong. I especially like this version because Ri sang it in both Mandarin and Japanese. It really feels like she continued that Japan-China ambassador role, but without a fascist government's puppetry. Also, the arrangement feels somewhat similar to Ohama-san's take.

Akira-san's recording

Now, you must be wondering why I bracketed "she" and "he" in my earlier descriptions of "Hōrī Jun Zairai". Well, that's because we also have a male Japanese version from the prewar era, from Akira Matsudaira (松平晃) at that. So, I assume that the roles in the lyrics in his version are reversed, wherein it's the man who is pining for his beloved.

Now, Pope had also mentioned Akira-san's involvement in bringing "Hōrī Jun Zairai" to Japan. Soon after Ri's version was released domestically in Japan, Matsudaira had returned from an imon katsudo (Consolatory activities) trip to China arranged by Columbia Records. One thing he brought back was the sheet music to "Hōrī Jun Zairai" and wanted to record it since it was popular in China. And so, Columbia agreed, preparing two Japanese versions: a female version by Ohama-san of "Shina no Yoru" (支那の夜) fame, and a male version by Matsudaira himself. Unfortunately, the powers that be in Columbia thought the song fit a female voice better and thus released Ohama-san's version in August 1939. Nevertheless, since Akira-san's rendition is available in CD albums now, it must've been released at some time in later days, or the original recording was dug out of the archives and digitalized. (Noelle from 11/3/24: According to the J-Wiki, Akira-san's version was dug out in 1970 and released in the LP album "Matsudaira Akira wo Shinonde" (松平晃を偲んで... Remembering Akira Matsudaira) as part of Columbia Records' 60th anniversary.)

Honestly, Akira-san's take genuinely surprised me because I was not expecting him to have also sung "Hōrī Jun Zairai". I uncovered it on my Akira-san appreciation drive a few days back when looking at the song list for one of his Best albums available on Spotify. Without hesitation, I gave it a listen. As suggested above, this take has the exact same arrangement as Ohama-san's, and he similarly employed the vocal gymnastics that are meant to be reminiscent of Chinese singers at the time. Contrary to Columbia's decision and probably a hot take, I thought "Hōrī Jun Zairai" fitted a man's voice quite well. And Akira-san, whom I usually thought to be quite stiff in his vocal delivery, was able to bring forth much emotion to appropriately carry the song... I liked it way more than I expected... Oh, could this actually be my favourite version? Oh. ( ´艸｀*) Nah, Akira-san will, at best, be around Mr. Fujiyama's level and no higher. I'm quite certain of that.

Ohama-san and Akira-san's "duet"

To wrap up this article, here is something I think is amazing. Someone on YouTube (channel 古今東西昔昔今今) did us the greatest service by meshing both Ohama-san's and Akira-san's versions together to create a duet. It personally feels like a play on the idea present in Zhou's original, where both halves of the couple are expressing their love and pining for each other to each other. Ah, the wonders of technology. This is the version we don't need but deserve. 

Akira-san and Ohama-san 
From "松平晃、ミス・コロムビアらが参加した、
コロムビア芸術団の慰問風景を収めた貴重映像！"

I believe my grandfather enjoyed Zhou Xuan's songs. If he were still around, I would make him listen to all these versions of "Heri Jun Zailai"/"Hōrī Jun Zairai". Just because... Although, I wouldn't put it past him to go, "This is a Chinese song. Why are you listening to a Japanese man (I won't say the term he would've used) sing this in Japanese?"

Hamako Watanabe/Yoshiko Yamaguchi/Tokyo Taishu Kayo Gakudan -- Itoshi Ano Hoshi (いとしあの星)

From the moment I unwittingly uttered an "Ah, Ko-san!" when the scrawny, pale fellow stepped up onto the Noh stage at the Asakusa shrine, I knew that the Takashima Brothers from Toyama prefecture have officially become my muse for this Autumn. In hindsight, I should've seen it coming: Smart-looking, Kotaro's (孝太郎) mellow vocals, high definition versions of ryukoka tunes, and having them constantly in my ears as I hack away at my readings. It was only a matter of time. Don't know how I feel about associating the Liberal Democratic Party with the likes of  "Midori no Chiheisen" (緑の地平線), though, but here I am. 

Anyway, a while ago I wrote about the pre-war piece that was "China Tango" which Tokyo Taishu Kayo Gakudan (東京大衆歌謡楽団... lit: Tokyo public music group) had covered. And today I bring you another one of their remakes, this time "Itoshi Ano Hoshi". 

Similar to "China Tango", what first caught my interest in this song was its rhythmic beat albeit at a much quicker tempo. In fact, the frenetic pace at which the bass and banjo are plucked and the blaring notes of the accordion are almost reminiscent of a steam train chugging away, or even the rumbling of a horse carriage headed off to some far off town. Either way, I wonder if this rousing melody was what made "Itoshi Ano Hoshi" somewhat of a mainstay in many of the quartet's performances. 

Since I was able to fish out the title from the comments, I didn't have to dig deep to find the original take of "Itoshi Ano Hoshi". Hamako Watanabe (渡辺はま子) had first recorded this in January 1940. Hearing her falsetto lightly dance over the words written by Hachiro Sato (サトウハチロー), the image of a girl infatuated by her special one and yearning for him can be envisioned a lot easier in comparison to Kotaro's hearty warbling. Watanabe was known as the purveyor of hits with connections to the Chinese continent and this song is no exception, made obvious by the Chinese sound in its melody, courtesy of Ryoichi Hattori (服部良一). 

In fact, "Itoshi Ano Hoshi" was actually the theme of the movie "Byakuran no Uta" (白蘭の歌) from 1939. It starred Chinese-Japanese actress-singer Yoshiko Yamaguchi (山口淑子) a.k.a Li Xianglan (李香蘭), who also had her rendition of this tune. Incidentally, Watanabe was supposed to be something like the Japanese mainland counterpart to Yamaguchi, who was active in China in the time before all hell broke loose... again. 

I believe the video here is Yamaguchi's version and it shows snippets from that film. The plot, set in the 1930s in Imperial Japan's annexed Manchuria, revolves around a love story between a Chinese girl of elite Manchurian descent, played by Yamaguchi, and a Japanese fellow who's working as an engineer at the South Manchurian Railway Company, played by Kazuo Hasegawa (長谷川一夫). But, really, in true propaganda film fashion, our main character here is really the railway being built. Why? Well, while our main characters do end up together, they end up sacrificing themselves to protect the railway's construction progress during the Marco Polo Bridge incident... Sarcasm aside, "Itoshi Ano Hoshi" does illustrate how our leading lady feels as she awaits letters from her engineer beau.  

On an end note, even though I hoped to hear "Itoshi Ano Hoshi" during my first viewing of the Gakudan's regular Asakusa Shrine performances on 31st October, it wasn't on their setlist for the day or, at least, during the 2nd of their 2 showings. Ah, well. I have many more opportunities to hear it and other favourites of mine in time to come... In fact, I intend to be doing so very soon on November 10th. 

Welcome to the wall, fellas.

Y'know, the Gakudan members do look like 4 copies of a product with some variations that make them relatively discernable. They're all great and I like them all. But. Admittedly. I do have a very, very marginal preference for Yujiro (although it does regularly shift to Kotaro). If you haven't read the "China Tango" article, I'll have you figure out which of the 3 instrumentalists Yujiro is. 

P.S. A few friends had accompanied me to see the quartet in action that afternoon, and it did amuse me that they seemed fascinated by the band's get-up and instruments. It then made me realise that in not usually seeing such an image and hearing such a sound regularly or ever, it would indeed be fascinating. I did greatly appreciate their willingness to take it all in. Rain and ryukoka.

Hamako Watanabe -- Ame no Oranda-zaka（雨のオランダ坂）

Another source of watching the old kayo on NHK along with "Uta Kon"（うたコン）has been "Songs of Japanese Spirit". Unfortunately, I forget what the original Japanese title is of this program on the World Premium service but the English title has always been listed as so. Before TV Japan's programming schedule got turned upside-down because of COVID-19, this particular show was usually featured on Saturdays in the mid-afternoon, and it is even grander than "Uta Kon". It's twice as long as the average "Uta Kon" episode and the stress is on showing the kayo singers performing the old hits instead of the mix of kayo and J-Pop on the other show. And often, the last third of the show is devoted to some sort of stage play being acted out by the performers on the episode with, of course, songs being thrown in, or a segment focusing on the hits surrounding two of the singers.

With "Uta Kon" greatly changed due to the pandemic restrictions, I was happy to find out that "Songs of Japanese Spirit" did pop up at least once since the changes. Obviously, it was a rerun of an episode from 2019 but just to see all those singers appear together onstage to sing their kayo was very reassuring.

There were a few songs that had caught my ear for that episode that I PVR'ed. One was Hamako Watanabe's（渡辺はま子）"Ame no Oranda-zaka" (Rainy Hollander Slope). For some background, Oranda-zaka, which has been called the Dutch Slope or the Hollander Slope, is a scenic sloping street in Nagasaki that was given its name due to the large number of Dutch merchants that had lived in the area in the latter half of the 19th century. During my one time in the city, I only got to see Chinatown and the bay area, so unfortunately I've never had the opportunity to walk on Oranda-zaka.

I have forgotten who performed "Ame no Oranda-zaka" on "Songs of Japanese Spirit", but the original version from January 1947 had been first recorded by Watanabe, a singer who was especially popular from the late 1930s to well into the 1950s. With "Ame no Oranda-zaka", which was written by Kazuo Kikuta（菊田一夫）and composed by Yuuji Koseki（古関裕而）, she related the tale of heartbreak and sorrow of a romance coming to an end on the wet pavement of the titular slope in Nagasaki.

"Ame no Oranda-zaka" was a hit for Watanabe, who would get married and open up a flower shop in her native Yokohama in the same year of 1947 while restarting her career according to her Wikipedia file. This all happened after she had been repatriated back to Japan following detention in a POW camp in China for over a year once the Japanese surrendered.

In the 1950s, Watanabe made a string of appearances in the early years of the Kohaku Utagassen, including the inaugural edition on NHK Radio in 1951. She would make a total of 9 appearances on the special with her final appearance being in 1973. None of those appearances had her performing "Ame no Oranda-zaka".

Hamako Watanabe -- San Francisco Chinatown（桑港のチャイナ街）

Tonight's "Uta Con"（うたコン）, which only finished here a mere 10 minutes ago, took the geographical kayo way outside of Japan to countries like Turkey and even my nation of Canada.

America was also included in the musical whirlwind tour and it was represented by Hamako Watanabe's（渡辺はま子）"San Francisco Chinatown". There were a lot of songs that got my memories going but I never knew the title and the original singer for this number that also sparked my engrams. And what specifically sparked them was the cheerful singing by Watanabe that was almost a yodel.

Released in November 1950, "San Francisco Chinatown" was written by Takao Saeki（佐伯孝夫）and composed by Shunichi Sasaki（佐々木俊一）. And it was a song that was performed by Watanabe on the very first Kohaku Utagassen on January 3rd 1951 when it was only broadcast on NHK Radio. The singer would perform it three more times on the televised versions of the New Year's Eve special in 1956, 1964 and 1973.

I only got to visit San Francisco once in 1990 so far, and although I missed out on getting that wonderful view of the Golden Gate Bridge because of...and it's no surprise...fog, my group and I were able to enjoy a fine dinner in Chinatown. I would proudly put up Toronto's Chinese cuisine against any of the equivalent fare around the world, including that in Hong Kong, but I have to say that dinner in San Francisco that one night was one of my finest culinary experiences ever. I would say more but I don't want to have Larry blush too much.😋

Noelle's Favourite Songs From The 30's & 40's

Whenever a song were to be firmly wedged into my brain, I realise, more often than not, the song in question would be a pre or post war song. Could be a new discovery or an old favourite, be as it may, the moment I listen/hum along to/think of a ryukoka, it would linger in my head for days. I believe that's what J-Canuck calls an ear worm. I'm not sure why music from that era sticks to me like industrial strength super glue. Probably it's because they're simple and catchy, which explains why a good number of them are still popular over seventy years down the road.

This brings us to what I shall be sharing today: My list of some of my favourite ryukoka at this point in time that were spawned during the 1930s and 1940s. I had initially planned on including stuff from the 50's as well but decided against it after some thought. The reason being, if I did so, the list would inevitably comprise of Hachi, Michi, Muchi and Minami. Now, as much as I like them, I feel that I've been talking about them a lot, and adding the four here would then make the list rather predictable and therefore... boring. That being said, there is one fellow here that, I feel, won't be much of a surprise either.

In this article, I've narrowed my picks down to one song per singer for simplicity's sake, and I'll also be highlighting the lines from each entry that always comes to mind. For the latter, it's not necessarily because I fully understand what the words mean, but mostly because I like how it sounds when sung - strange, but it is what it is.

Well, anyway, let's get to it, shall we? The songs aren't listed in any particular order.

Ichiro Fujiyama -- Tokyo Rhapsody (1936)

Tanoshii miyako koi no miyako (楽しい都 恋の都)
Yume no paradise yo hana no Tokyo (夢の楽園よ 花の東京)

Tanoshii miyako indeed, Mr Fujiyama.

Oh boy, the chorus has been on repeat in my brain for the past few weeks. Out of all the tracks on this list, "Tokyo Rhapsody" (東京ラプソディ) is the most recent addition to my ryukoka favourites. Although I've been a fan of Ichiro Fujiyama's (藤山一郎) other evergreen classic, "Aoi Sanmyaku" (青い山脈) for a much longer period of time, I couldn't get enough of the faster pace and exuberance portrayed in "Tokyo Rhapsody". The video above has the newer version as well as the original. I really enjoy the new take of it for the cool and funky arrangement - just makes the song ten times catchier!

Noboru Kirishima & Hamako Watanabe -- Soshu Yakyoku (1940)

Hana wo ukabe te nagareru mizu no (花をうかべて 流れる水の)
Asu no yukue wa shirane domo (明日のゆくえは 知らねども)

"Soshu Yakyoku" (蘇州夜曲) is a tune that has been covered dozens upon dozens of times in Japanese and Mandarin. I've put down the very first recorded take of it here by Noboru Kirishima and Hamako Watanabe (霧島昇・渡辺はま子), but frankly, I'll always be happy to hear this song sung by just about anybody. While it's definitely the softest entry here, I do enjoy it for its beautiful melody - especially so in ASKA's atmospheric and languid version, which I listen to most - and romantic set of lyrics.

Dick Mine -- Tabi Sugata San'nin Otoko (1939)

Mita ka kiita ka ano tanka (見たか 聞いたか あの啖呵)

Wouldn't be list of pre and immediate post war ryukoka without something from the matatabi (股旅) label. Apparently, that's the proper term used to call songs featuring those wandering ronin. Coming back to the topic, there are a couple of matatabi enka from the late 30's that I'm always listening to - actually, I believe they're the ones that solidified my love for matatabi enka/ryukoka - but the one I tend to pick first is Dick Mine's (ディック・ミネ) "Tabi Sugata San'nin Otoko" (旅姿三人男). It's jaunty music is mainly what draws me to it... but I think that's about it because some of the lyrics still have me scratching my head and trying to figure out how they relate to each other.

OOOOSSSSUUU!!!

Yoshio Tabata -- Genkai Blues (1949)

Arashi fuki maku Genkai koete (嵐吹き巻く 玄海超えて)
Otoko funa nori yuku mich'ya hitotsu (男船乗り 往く道ゃひとつ)

Y'know when I mentioned that there's going to be a predictable artiste featured here? Yup, it's good ol' Batayan. There are also many works by Yoshio Tabata (田端義夫) that I favour but as with the aforementioned self-imposed rule, I can only choose one. So, I chose "Genkai Blues" (玄海ブルース). It was between this or the other matatabi tune I implied earlier, "Otone Tsukiyo" (大利根月夜), and the former was picked as I tend to find myself singing/humming this slightly bluesy madorosu entry more often.

Katsutaro Kouta & Issei Mishima -- Tokyo Ondo (1933)

Haa hana wa Ueno yo (ハア 花は上野よ)
Choito yanagi wa Ginza (チョイト 柳は銀座)
Tsuki wa Sumida no tsuki wa Sumida no yakatabune (月は隅田の 月は隅田の屋形船)

Here we have another entry dedicated to Tokyo, but this one has a Japanese flavour to it rather than Western. The festive bon odori melody and the constant "yoi yoi yoi" of "Tokyo Ondo" (東京音頭) is really quite hypnotic and catchy, latching on to me the moment I heard it at Kiyoshi Hikawa's (氷川きよし) event in Ikebukuro. As with "Soshu Yakyoku", I've put down the original version of "Tokyo Ondo" here by Katsutaro Kouta and Issei Mishima (小唄勝太郎・三島一聲). However, I normally listen to Hikawa's abridged version with it's updated score and five verses instead of the insanely long ten stanzas in the original - I'm fond of the song, yes, but there's only that much of a bon odori song I can take in one sitting before I call it quits.

Haruo Oka -- Akogare no Hawaii Koro (1948)

Hare ta sora soyogu kaze (晴れた空 そよぐ風)
Minato defune no dora no ne tanoshi (港出船の ドラの音愉し)
Wakare tape wo egao dekireba (別れテープを 笑顔で切れば)
Nozomi hatenai haruka na shioji (希望はてない 遥かな潮路)
Ah ah ah akogare no Hawaii koro (あゝ 憧れのハワイ航路)

Coming to the end of the article (thanks for sticking around), the last ryukoka that has been a perennial favourite of mine is Haruo Oka's (岡晴夫) "Akogare no Hawaii Koro" (憧れのハワイ航路). Ah, that was a time when I thought the mannerisms of the likes of Oka when performing were utterly amusing - honestly, I still find it quite funny now.

As you've probably noticed, I've highlighted the entire first stanza of "Akogare no Hawaii Koro" instead of simply a line or two. My reason for this is that firstly, I have it so firmly implanted into my brain that it doesn't take much for me to utter out the whole thing; secondly, this one stanza from the optimistic lyrics, combined with the jolly melody, gave me my first taste of what music was like in post-war Japan when I was still happily listening to just Chage and Aska. It was weird at first, but it was hard not to like it after a few listens.

That's the end of this article. I hope you enjoyed listening to these ancient classics. I might do one on my favourite songs from the 50's and/or 60's sometime, but we'll see how it goes... When I do, I promise I will be objective in my choices and the article won't just be filled with Hachi's works.

Yoshiko Yamaguchi/Noboru Kirishima & Hamako Watanabe -- Soshu Yakyoku (蘇州夜曲)

Kirishima and Watanabe's version.

A couple of weeks back, the topic of this singer-actress, Yoshiko Yamaguchi (山口淑子) a.k.a. Lee Xianglan/Ri Koran (李香蘭) was brought up by Mom after I pointed out that a guest on "Uta Kon" sang "Soshu Yakyoku" or "Suzhou Yequ" (Suzhou Serenade). While she's normally not particularly enthusiastic when it comes to ryukoka, things were different when it came to this song as she so happens to know it and actually likes it - its Chinese version, that is.

Personally, I was able to recognize "Soshu Yakyoku" as many singers have done covers (which was how Mom got to know it too) of this old-but-gold tune, including ASKA, and was somewhat aware that it was originally a duet with Noboru Kirishima and Hamako Watanabe, but that was about it. That was where Yamaguchi came in. Via Mom I got to know some basics about the China-born Japanese woman with a turbulent past who had sang "Soshu Yakyoku" as well, and some research afterwards showed that she was technically the first one to sing it when she played as the lead in the 1940 film, "Shina no Yoru" (支那の夜) - she also happened to be a politician in the 70's, and vice president for the Asian Women's Fund. Apparently the characters for "Shina", which are pronounced as "Zhi-na", mean China. Initially I had no idea why that was the case until Mom shot me a death stare and said that this "Zhi" is read as the "Chi" in "China"... She almost wanted to knock me on the head. I think she would have if I had sat nearer to her.

Yamaguchi's version.

Head-knocks aside, listening to "Soshu Yakyoku", I can see why it is such a popular song despite being in a Japanese occupation propaganda film. The mellow music with that tinkling that pops in from time to time makes me envision what a night scene in old Suzhou would have been: calm waters of the canals that flow through the area gently lapping at the banks, reflections of some small light sources dotted on the dark surface, a little boat or two gliding along, old-style buildings sitting by the water's edge silently. I can also imagine someone sitting by the window of one such old house staring at his/her view. Very nice and comfortable. While in my mind I only pictured there to be a lone figure with his/her thoughts, "Soshu Yakyoku" seems to depict a couple enjoying each other's company in said town. In that case, the duet feels like the companions are talking to each other. Putting the track together were Yaso Saijo (西條八十) on the lyrics and Ryoichi Hattori ((服部良一) on the music.

"Soshu Yakyoku" was officially made into a single in August 1940 when Kirishima and Watanabe recorded it, two months after "Shina no Yoru" came out in theaters. Yamaguchi did come to record her version more than a decade later in 1953, and it got used as the theme song to "Hoyou" (抱擁), a film that also starred the lady herself. Being a coloratura soprano, Yamaguchi's voice was really high when she sang the song, but somehow I found it quite pleasant, and it reminds me of some of those old Disney movies like "Snow White" when the titular character sings.

As I had mentioned above, there are also Chinese renditions of "Soshu Yakyoku", or should I say "Suzhou Yequ", and I managed to find one rather easily. This one's by a popular Taiwanese singer by the name of Fei Yu-ching (費玉清). I do like his version - fuller, smoother arrangement, plus that delicate voice of his.

fujiura.com/fgod/songs/zsoshuyakyoku.htm