Rick Rubin, Mineko Iwasaki, Robyn Youkilis

I borrow a lot of books from the public library. I scan titles, and peruse whatever seems interesting. This often reveals to me what’s really on my mind.

If I want to read a book that’s not in the library, I purchase a used copy.


Geisha, A Life, by Mineko Iwasaki

Geisha, A Life, by Mineko Iwasaki

I have been interested in geisha for some time- likely inspired by the 2005 movie. I also read the novel that inspired the movie (Memoirs of a Geisha, by Arthur Golden). Iwasaki was one of the geisha interviewed for background information during the writing of Golden’s book.

I think most people are enlightened to the fact that geisha were performing artists- a distinguished career completely separate from prostitution.

What interests me is the combination of skills these women embody. There were performing elements: dancing, singing, and playing instruments. The visual beauty of elaborate kimono and makeup. Then, the social skills of conversation and hosting.

The word geisha literally translates to “art-person,” and these women fittingly created themselves into works of art.

I find this definition of art captivating, especially compared to the world of orchestral music. In a screened audition, the person effectively becomes divided from their music. I understand the reason for this process. However, since screens come down in the final round, is this just a gesture to demonstrate fairness? And do we even want musicians to be anonymous?

Today, the geisha’s definition of artist seems very relevant. With the internet, musicians can cultivate direct relationships with their fans, building their own support. Merit isn’t based solely on performance- in fact, fans clearly prefer when artists reveal some personality and humanity.

Obviously, musical integrity is essential, but simply practicing more doesn’t bring an audience. Technical mastery is impressive, but not an aim in itself. Musicians can (and should) tell an entire story with their art. A story is magnetic.