The Eisaburo and Umeko Kioka Memorial Reference Room
In a nondescript street near Ogikubo, the legacy of Japan's Christian music pioneer lives on, quietly.
Last Tuesday afternoon (March 14, 2023) I met with Marie Baltazar and Takumi Kato for a cup of coffee and conversation in Kichijoji. Marie had written me after I published my last piece, correcting some uninformed assumptions I had made about Kioka Eisaburo’s time in Paris. As she is one of the experts in French organ history (see my post here), I stand corrected! Specifically, at that time, it was not uncommon to insinuate oneself upon a master and ask for a chance to become a pupil.
But Marie was intrigued by the mention of Kioka. During her ten months here in Japan so far, researching the connection between Japanese and French organ culture, Marie kept hearing about Eisaburo Kioka as “Vierne’s student” and “Widor’s student.” She wanted to investigate, but had yet to interview a musicologist on the matter. So I set up the meeting.
Kato was kind enough to meet us and brought along a copy of a 2009 Indiana University dissertation by Mariko Morita, “Eisaburo Kioka (1895–1982): Visionary Pioneer of the Organ in Japan,” which I will summarize some other time. Kato had been interested in Kioka during his time preparing for the 150th anniversary of Meiji Gakuin. Kioka was a graduate, and thus of interest, to this oldest of Japan’s Christian universities.
Not long into our conversation, Kato asked if we would be interested in visiting a nearby museum dedicated to this pioneer of Christian music in Japan. He made a telephone call, and soon we were on the Chuo line and headed two stops east to Ogikubo. A ten-minute walk to the south put us at the “Organists Eisaburo and Umeko Kioka Memorial Reference Room.” You can see it here.
There we met Kioka’s elderly nephew, a retired university physicist named Kanzo Kioka. He was actually born with the last name Yamawaki, but was adopted by his mother’s brother Eisaburo during his uncle’s old age. Eisaburo did not marry and had no children; he lived with his sister Umeko, also an organist, until his death in 1982. Kanzo is the designated heir to this legacy.
The “Reference Room” is really part of Kanzo’s house, two rooms dedicated to memorializing the lifelong work of his beloved uncle and aunt: bringing Christian music to Japan. When his uncle died, in Japanese fashion Kanzo tore down the old house and built another in its place, complete with the reference rooms.
The larger room has a couple of sofas set for conversation, long glass-encased bookshelves (for Eisaburo’s library), and three instruments: a Bösendorfer grand piano (used for music lessons by a local teacher), a reed organ, and a two-manual practice pipe organ with full pedal board by a Dutch builder. Kanzo turned on the organ and touched a few keys; many were no longer functional. The organ cannot have been used much the last forty years. A second room holds Eisaburo’s papers and notes from his travels and translations, the most striking displayed under glass.
Kanzo is getting old. Both of his boys are married with families in America. Since his wife’s death fourteen years ago, Kanzo has been living alone. He’s searching for a taker for this important archive; Meiji University cannot accommodate it. Takumi Kato is trying to get Japan Lutheran College interested, but it would take professional staff to catalog. Money is short in today’s Japanese schools.
Eisaburo Kioka’s work was to bring the Western tradition of church music to Japan. He personally oversaw the installation of more than fifty pipe organs, established a school for church musicians, and translated dozens of choral texts and printed scores for congregational and choral singing.
Upon our parting, Kanzo gave me a copy of his uncle’s two most famous choral publications, of which he clearly had extras: Handel’s Messiah and Bach’s St. Matthew Passion. These volumes encapsulate one of this incredibly energetic musical pioneer’s many legacies.
These translations, and their earlier versions, have been used by hundreds of choirs for thousands of performances across Japan for many decades. Kioka’s work remains a cornerstone of Japan’s reception of Christian music, and the choral and organ music of Johann Sebastian Bach.
There’s much more to be said about Eisaburo Kioka, so stay tuned.