What Kikuchi’s Interview Taught Me About Merit and Labels
https://ethaniverson.com/interviews/interview-with-masabumi-kikuchi/
Both Maria Kim (in my interview) and Kikuchi (in his interview with Iverson) try not to overthink the “cultural” question. Kikuchi explains that he believes music is about personal expression: “As long as I can believe 100% of it, then I don’t think it’s any problem.” It doesn’t matter to him whether Western or Japanese listeners criticize his work, because his art is sincere to himself.
Like Kikuchi, many of the jazz musicians I’ve interviewed didn’t want to be fitted into a cultural box. They explicitly expressed a desire to be seen simply as jazz musicians — artists who are good at their craft yet still bring their unique selves into their music. (But then, why can’t their culture be part of that “unique self”? Is this conscious distancing because jazz musicians, as I’ve observed, tend to value a kind of meritocratic identity?)
Interestingly, Kikuchi admits that he used to dislike when people described his music as “Japanese,” but he has since come to accept that some of that influence naturally appears in his playing. What I find most interesting is this desire to avoid cultural labeling, even though it does not necessarily have to be a bad thing. It can be something to embrace as part of one’s identity, yet there still seems to be a conscious effort to be recognized simply as jazz musicians rather than as “Japanese” or “Korean” jazz musicians. Why? I don’t know, but it aligns with how jazz musicians in general tend to resist labels.
If I had to guess, I think it’s because jazz, at its core, has always prized authenticity and individual voice. Historically, long-term respect in the jazz world was earned strictly through how one played, not through race, nationality, or genre labels. That kind of culture naturally encourages a meritocratic mindset. I have often observed that jazz musicians seek recognition for their meritocratic identity — for their artistic skill and individuality — a more universal kind of greatness that transcends cultural boundaries. For the East Asian jazz musicians I have observed, resisting ethnic labels allows them to be recognized as part of the broader jazz conversation, rather than as outsiders or derivative forms. Yet most jazz musicians I have spoken with define jazz by its improvisation and freedom of self-expression, which makes the meritocratic impulse somewhat paradoxical. Jazz can absorb different cultures — it was, after all, built on African and European traditions — yet still remain rooted in the very values that musicians use to define it. For these artists, then, the challenge is not to erase their culture but to weave it naturally into a voice that speaks on its own terms.
