Film History 4, no. 3 (Spring 1991), 237-256.

Forty Days Across America: Kiyooka Eiichi's 1927 Travelogues

In the west, you couldn't tell from what the road looked like ahead, what the damn road was going to look like when you got beyond anything you could now see.

-Maxwell Fisch.1

In the spring of 1989, I was recruited to read my younger brother's undergraduate thesis, "The Making of a Moderate in Prewar Japan: Kiyooka Eiichi." Knowing little about Japanese history and culture, I directed my comments towards the style and organization of Kenneth's argument. As I was reading one of several drafts, an intriguing story caught my attention. As a young man studying in the United States in the 1920s, Mr. Kiyooka drove a Model T Ford across the country. On the way, he filmed his adventures with a new Kodak 16mm movie camera. Although this story was tangential to Kenneth's main focus on Kiyooka's life during the rise of militarism in Japan in the 1930s, he nevertheless noted that Kiyooka's films of the trip were frequently shown to family and friends in Tokyo during that period. As a student of film history and a devotee of amateur film, a footnote struck my imagination, "Incredibly enough, Keiõ [University] still has the film."2 My own interests in amateur uses of the cinema suggested that these images from 1927 might provide an exciting case study of home movies.

We wrote to Professor Kiyooka to ask if he would be willing to lend us his films. He offered to send them immediately and said that he would be delighted to answer our questions about his experiences as a student in America in the 1920s and especially about his 1927 cross-country automobile trip. With few assurances about the quality and intrinsic value of his images, we paid several hundred dollars to transfer the delicate original films to 1" videotape at John E. Allen, Inc. in New Jersey, a commercial facility that specializes in the preservation and sale of archival motion pictures. The films looked promising and we made plans to interview Professor Kiyooka later that

This series of events reminded me that individuals, guided by their own interests and knowledge, set the agenda for historical research. Of course, individual interests are also bound by institutional constraints and support, professional certification, conventions of disciplines, and the like. As a student in the Department of East Asian Studies at Harvard University, Kenneth would not have been permitted to write an honor's thesis about Kiyooka's home movies. At the same time, his research would not have been possible without a grant from the Reischauer Institute to travel to Tokyo to interview Professor Kiyooka. What seemed an incidental detail to my brother's research on notions of democracy in modern Japan struck me as an exciting prospect for expanding the agenda of film studies. Most film history still focuses on the dominant practices of the fiction film industry. The history of home movies and amateur uses of media have yet to be written although traces exist in industry archives, trade journals, and family attics. Kiyooka's films, moreover, fascinated me as a hybrid form of home movie travelogues, shot in the U. S. by a young man from a different culture. Unfortunately, the virtual absence of case studies of home movies or travelogues make comparisons with other amateurs impossible. All of my conclusions then will necessarily be limited to a close analysis of Kiyooka's 16mm films, writings, and recollections.

The materials of this study include 29:45 minutes of 16mm reversal film of Kiyooka's 1927 trip across the United States. The original footage, although in good condition, has shrunk to the point where the distance between the sprocket holes is too small for normal projection. For this reason, the footage was transferred to videotape to allow for close analysis and repeated viewings. In 1928, Kiyooka published a series of articles about his trip, "Across the United States in a Model T Ford--1927," in the February, March, and April 1928 issues of the Japanese periodical Mita Hyõron, based on extensive diaries he kept during the trip. Kiyooka brought a 1976 English translation of these articles to Indianapolis in the summer of 1989.

While riding in the back seat of his Model T Ford, as his friends Max and Ruth Fisch were driving, Kiyooka periodically jotted down his impressions of the landscape and kept a record of their activities on the road. Unfortunately, the diaries and original manuscript were destroyed during the American bombing of Tokyo in 1945. Nevertheless, the published accounts are rich in detail and anecdote. Needless to say, most of my information about Japan and, of course, about Kiyooka Eiichi, comes from Kenneth J. Ruoff's thesis, "The Making of a Moderate in Prewar Japan: Kiyooka Eiichi," based on interviews conducted in June of 1988. This work places Kiyooka's life and thought in the context of the growing militarism and anti-American sentiment of the 1930s, sentiment that Kiyooka did not share. In addition, eight hours of videotaped interviews with Professor Kiyooka, focusing on the 1927 trip, were recorded in Indianapolis in July of 1989. Even at 87 years of age, Kiyooka is an active, energetic world traveller. As much as possible in this study, I will have him speak in his own words about his experiences in the United States.

Today, Kiyooka Eiichi is a professor emeritus of English literature at Keiõ University in Tokyo. Maxwell Fisch, his friend from Cornell University, is a professor emeritus of philosophy at the University of Indiana-Indianapolis. The 16mm film footage and the diaries represent Kiyooka's reactions to and impressions of the American landscape. The image of America in the films combines elements of personal interests, standard tourist iconography, and an outsider's perspective to present a unique vision of the American landscape, a landscape dominated by the ubiquitous automobile. For this upper-class Japanese gentleman, particular features of the social landscape filled the notebooks and viewfinder: the wide-open vistas of the prairie states; a rodeo in Prescott, Arizona; the unpaved roads west of Kansas; Navajo Indians and their homes in New Mexico; the island of Alcatraz in the San Francisco Bay. Kiyooka's films and writings provide traces of an earlier way of life, a moment when cameras and cars, standardized products of mass production techniques, collaborated to create an intimate and popular image of the American landscape. As Warren Belasco suggests in Americans on the Road: From Autocamp to Motel, 1910-1945, "Like another recent invention, the motion picture, the automobile offered unprecedented experiences of time, space, and movement."3 More than home movies, but less than a finished documentary film, Kiyooka Eiichi's travelogues meander across an American landscape both real and imagined, documented and interpreted by a 25-year-old Japanese student on his way back home to his native Tokyo.

In Americans on the Road, Belasco reproduces a photograph of a celebrated autocamping trip from 192l, "When President Warren G. Harding joined Henry Ford, Thomas Edison, and Harvey Firestone on one of their closely reported autocamping trips, it seemed that everyone was doing it."4 Reported in contemporary newsreels, photographs, and articles in Motorist and Field and Stream, this celebrity excursion epitomizes the development of the new consumer society made possible through mass-production techniques. During the 1920s, for example, the Ford Motor Company sold over one million Model T Fords per year.5 These pioneer industrialists of the automobile

In order to understand Kiyooka's involvement with cameras and cars, we need to understand his cultural background and certain aspects of modern Japanese history. Ever since Commodore Perry insisted that the Tokugawa Shogunate open its country to international trade, the United States has been involved in a complex cultural exchange with Japan. Seven years later, in 1860, the first Japanese diplomatic mission sailed for San Francisco. When the Shogunate fell, the reigh of Emperor Mutsuhito began, lasting from 1867 to 1912. During this period, the Meiji era, or "enlightened peace," Japan embarked on a process of rapid modernization and industrialization, absorbing western science and technology. Enlightenment intellectuals like Fukuzawa Yukichi, who had served as a clerk on the 1860 mission to the U. S., promoted democratic ideals and individual rights through newspaper articles and best-selling books. This cultural exchange, alternately imposed, welcomed, rejected, and enforced, has continued throughout the twentieth century, with the American occupation of Japan from 1945-52, marking the period of most direct influence.

Japanese students first started coming to American universities in 1872, the year of the first overseas mission of the Meiji government. Tadashi Aruga notes the beginning of this process in his discussion of the first Japanese mission to the U. S. in Abroad in America: Visitors to the New Nation:

The Kanrin Maru group also produced a foremost educator, journalist, and champion of enlightenment in Meiji Japan--Fukuzawa Yukichi. As a young student of western languages and science, Fukuzawa had volunteered to serve as a clerk of Admiral Kimura in order to see America. Because of his knowledge, he

was not surprised by scientific and industrial devices he saw there. But he experienced a series of shocks in "matters of life and social custom and ways of thinking." Although he was able to visit only California, that was enough to make him aware of the blessings of a progressive, democratic society. His later trips to America and Europe reinforced his conviction. He opened a school named Keiõ Gijiku (which later became a university), wrote many enlightening books, and founded a newspaper. Paraphrasing a passage of the American Declaration of Independence, Fukuzawa began his widely read series of essays, An Encouragement of Learning, with this message: "It is said that heaven did not create one man above or below another man." He never entered the bureaucracy of the Meiji government, cherishing his liberty as an independent citizen. "Proud and independent" was the motto he gave to his students. Among the Japanese visitors of 1860, it was Fukuzawa who had learned most from American democracy.6

More than any other individual in the Meiji era, Fukuzawa exposed the Japanese people to the culture of the west through such popular books as Things Western and The Autobiography of Fukuzawa, and through his newspaper, Jiji Shimpõ. Fukuzawa's sons and grandsons, together with other members of the westernized elite in Japan, were sent to study abroad in the United States and Europe. The history of modern Japan is the history of an intense engagement with the values, technology, ideas, and material culture of the western world. Kiyooka Eiichi himself is a product of this ongoing cultural exchange between Japan and the United States.

A grandson of the great Fukuzawa Yukichi, and a member of the intelligentsia in Tokyo, Kiyooka grew up steeped in the culture of the western world. He already had an English tutor in his home before he began his formal schooling at age six. Members of his family helped introduce golf to Japan; new technological inventions like the telephone appeared early in Kiyooka's home. His mother converted to Christianity when he was a young boy, and his older sister attended the Sacred Heart School, one of the only secondary schools willing to educate Japanese girls. When Kiyooka started school, he went to the Keiõ Primary School, founded in 1858 by Fukuzawa to promote understanding of western knowledge. In addition, Kiyooka was eventually baptised in the Anglican Church at the age of sixteen. Having graduated high school, he dreamed of becoming a mechanical engineer.7 When he was seventeen, his parents decided that he should go to study abroad in America. Kiyooka still marvels at his parents' brash decision to send him to study abroad for seven years:

My going to Ithaca was decided because my cousin was there, but just going was the only thing that was decided and certain. Just who was going to take care of me and where I was going to settle in Ithaca was not exactly understood, and my parents didn't seem to care. That's something that even now I don't understand. They simply believed in the advanced civilization of the United States, I suppose.8

In July, 1920, Kiyooka travelled by boat from Yokohama to Seattle, a journey that took two weeks. From San Francisco, he proceeded by train across the country to New York City in the company of a Japanese scholar who knew his family. Kiyooka's education, travels, diaries, and films all reflect the profound influence of his grandfather, Fukuzawa; all of Kiyooka's work has been done in his spirit.

Studying at Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, Kiyooka hoped to be an engineer, a career embracing the industrial technology of the United States. Having failed his mathematics examinations, however, Kiyooka shifted gears and decided to study America. To his surprise, he was unable to take courses in either American history or American literature; both subjects were considered subsets of other disciplines:

At that time--well, young people won't know those old days--there was no such thing as American literature at that time and nothing in American literature was offered in Cornell University. Just one course on the history of American literature. The professor explained that there was nothing worthwhile in American literature that should be in the university. The literature was the early literature of colonial times. In 1920s, you know, American people didn't think too much of America itself. American literature was considered one branch of English literature.9

Coming from a family that "worshipped" American culture, Kiyooka was astonished to find few courses about the culture of the United States. In Kiyooka's mind, this indicated that America was a young country at the time.

In 1925, Kiyooka purchased a Model T Ford for one hundred dollars. The previous owner of the car showed him how to drive, "When I purchased this second-hand car, the man who owned the garage offered to teach me how to drive it, and we drove around the country roads for one day. Just one day's instruction from the man who sold me the car, that was enough for me."10 He used the car for Sunday excursions and to visit the eastern states during vacation breaks from school. Kiyooka's background gave him ample familiarity with the mores and material culture of American society. He seized on the details that made the mass-produced Model T Ford an exciting automobile:

The cars of those days were so simple, engine was simple too. An amateur could go at it without too much difficulty. I was very fond of machinery and it came out all right. What I did was to take off the top and scrape the carbon off the top and change the valves. Today I suppose the owners of their cars don't overhaul their cars. In those days, overhauling a car was a part of the fun, part of the fun of having a car. In Japan, cars were luxury things, rather than everyday toy of car lovers. This trip of mine was just about the last car pleasure of mine, when I reached home, why my father had a car, but a luxurious, beautiful car that I won't dare touch.11

Kiyooka reiterates the features that made the Model T Ford a commercial success. Through the techniques of mass production, Henry Ford and the Ford Motor Company managed to produce an automobile that could be integrated into the new consumer society not as a luxury item, but as an everyday necessity. Kiyooka clearly appreciated the bohemian look of the Model T Ford, which he contrasted with his father's luxury car. He goes on to state the visual characteristics of the Model T,

I treated it as my toy, I never washed it. The only work I gave was on the engine, the engine was kept beautiful. That was more or less the fashion, a Ford should be dusty, that was the times you know. You must not think of the Fords of today. The Fords of the 1920s were entirely different, they were supposed to be dusty and very useful, but nothing pretty.12

Writing for a Japanese audience in 1928, Kiyooka asserted that he had driven during this period "some twenty thousand miles all over the north-eastern part of the United States."13

In 1927, after graduating from Cornell University with a B. A. in English literature, Kiyooka Eiichi prepared

They planned to camp as they went, and Kiyooka purchased an auto-tent and other supplies with this end in mind. Autocamping across the country provided a sense of adventure to early motorists. By 1927, camping vacations of this kind were a favorite pastime of middle and upper-class Americans. Autos Across America: A Bibliography of Transcontinental Automobile Travel, 1903-1940 lists 66 published accounts of cross-country trips before 1927, suggesting the popularity of taking these trips as well as writing and reading about them.15 Automobiles freed travellers from the rigid standardization of railway timetables and established routes, breaking the companies' monopoly on cross-country tourism. Individual motorists were able to follow their own inclinations on the road. As Belasco notes, "Autocamping originally appealed to affluent individualists for whom the very lack of an infrastructure was its major attraction."16

During the last few months in Ithaca, Kiyooka took apart and re-assembled the engine of his Model T; if they had any breakdowns en route, he wanted to be able to repair it. Belasco mentions the same tendency in his study of early motorists in Americans on the Road, "Since most cars--especially the Model T--were simple enough to be tinkered with, the average motorist could feel that in case of

breakdown he had at least an even chance of fixing it."17 Kiyooka believed that an automobile trip across the country, in addition to being a lot of fun, would show him new insights about America, a country that he, like many other Japanese, believed was an advanced democracy and a model for the development of Japan.

Prior to his departure, Kiyooka wrote to his parents requesting permission to purchase a new 16mm Kodak movie camera. Eastman Kodak had first marketed 16mm film stock, cameras, and projectors for the amateur market in 1923. Anticipating the long delay in international mail, a fact he was familiar with from his seven years in the U. S., Kiyooka knew well that he would already have started his trip before his parents' official response arrived, thereby preventing them from exerting any effective long distance authority over his decision. This action enabled Kiyooka to fulfill the traditional Japanese obligation towards parental authority while simultaneously demonstrating a more cavalier individualism learned during his stay in the U. S. Despite his assertiveness, Kiyooka's motives were good; he wanted to show his mother what the American countryside looked like. While some Japanese had seen San Francisco or New York, few had ventured to see the great expanses of the midwestern and southwestern states. Fortunately for our sake, his parents didn't have the time to object to his extravagance, and a thirty-minute 16mm record of this remarkable trip still exists. Kiyooka learned how to make films the same way he learned how to drive; he briefly consulted a Kodak manual, and a friend showed him how to shoot his first rolls. This footage may represent the first documentary filming of America by a Japanese.

The innovations which made motion pictures available to amateurs like Kiyooka Eiichi parallel many of the developments that led to the widespread popularity of the Model T Ford. In 1923, after a long period of testing and competition between various formats, Eastman Kodak introduced 16mm equipment, a substandard format that was accepted by other companies in the industry such as Victor Animatograph of Davenport, Iowa, and Bell and Howell of Chicago, making personal movies less expensive and available to large numbers of consumers. The film stock introduced was reversal film, reducing the costs of printing stages necessary with negative film. The film used a cellulose safety-based stock that eliminated the threat of fire, a notorious problem of nitrate-based film stock. Because reversal film has finer grain structure than negative, the smaller gauge significantly reduced the cost of the material without sacrificing too much of the image quality.18 The smaller format, reversal development, and mass-production techniques made 16mm approximately one-sixth the cost of comparable 35mm equipment.

Early Kodak cameras took 100' daylight-loading spools and soon had spring wound motors so they could be hand-held rather than hand-cranked on a tripod. At a time when hand-held shooting was comparatively rare in the film industry, the hand-held quality of Kiyooka's camerawork is perhaps one of the most distinctive and dynamic features of his film. The 16mm equipment offered the technical simplicity that consumers were accustomed to in still photography. Alan Kattelle notes its widespread popularity, "The 16mm direct reversal film was enormously successful. Within two years of its introduction, Kodak processing labs were set up in major cities across the country."19 Although 16mm equipment brought moving pictures directly into the hands of millions more Americans in the 1920s, amateur moviemaking was still an expensive venture. A 1927 Kodak brochure lists a price for the Cine-Kodak Model B with a f/3.5mm lens at $100.00. The camera weighed just five pounds. The Kodascope Model C Projector cost $60.00. 100' of Cine-Kodak Film, with processing, cost $6.00. In the early days of 16mm, home moviemaking was a costly and ambitious endeavor. Kiyooka easily spent more money on his 16mm movie equipment than he did on his second-hand Model T Ford.

According to his 1976 manuscript, a translation of his published accounts from 1928, the cross-country trip commenced on June 9, 1927, in Ithaca, New York, with Kiyooka driving alone to catch up with his friends Ruth and Max who were busy preparing their wedding ceremony in Winchester, Indiana, at the home of Ruth's family. Kiyooka rushed through Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana in three days to arrive in time for the wedding, covering over six hundred miles at an average speed of 27 miles per hour. There was little chance of being caught speeding because the Model T Ford didn't go fast enough to speed and there weren't so many police cars on the road in those days. On the first day, after a late start, Kiyooka travelled one hundred miles and--after dining and refueling in Blossburg, Pennsylvania--spent the night in a hotel in Williamsport. On the way, and indeed throughout the whole trip, he managed to keep careful notes in his diaries about the towns through which he passed, the expenses he paid, and the conversations he shared. He rose early the next day to make the most of the daylight hours and drove 230 miles in fourteen and a half hours. The second night was spent in a hotel in Washington, Pennsylvania, a small town on the western side of Pittsburgh. Kiyooka didn't bother to camp yet for he was in a hurry to get to Winchester. The following morning, he sent a telegram--another recent technological innovation--via Western Union to alert his friends of his estimated time of arrival. As Kiyooka's diaries and films suggest, covering long distances at a consistently high speed was one of the thrills of early road travel.

After fifteen more hours on the road and a light meal at a roadside stand near Springfield, Ohio, Kiyooka arrived at

As noted earlier, Kiyooka's film of the 1927 trip consists of 29:45 minutes of 16mm film. There are roughly 367 individual shots in this footage, an average shot length of 4.8 seconds. The footage, like most silent film, was originally shot at sixteen frames per second. However, because the film was transferred to videotape at eighteen frames per second, these figures are necessarily approximate. The rapid shooting style demonstrates the influence of snapshot photography on the aesthetics of home movies and travelogues. However, not all of the stylistic features of the footage should be attributed to intention; the camera may have malfunctioned in parts and Kiyooka might describe some of these features as mistakes, "We don't think of the picture taking. We are not professional picture takers, so when things happen, we forget. Only a very small part of the drama, really it's impossible."21 The cameraperson, and we know from the images that it wasn't always Kiyooka who filmed during the trip, commonly took short bursts of film much like a still photographer, not entirely aware of how fast these glimpses might go by on the screen. The footage also appears to have been edited in parts, testifying both to Kiyooka's ambition as an amateur moviemaker and to the deleterious effects of time; some of the splices were made simply to repair broken sprocket holes and the like. Nevertheless the footage is in surprisingly good condition given its age.

The film begins in Ithaca as a Model T Ford emerges from a garage in a suburban home on Elmwood Avenue, located on a hill within walking distance of Cornell University. Dressed in workman's clothing, Kiyooka wrestles with the engine of the automobile in broad daylight. He

liked to work outdoors in the street like this, part of the everyday life of the town. In the film, Kiyooka includes shots of neighborhood children playing around him, cross-cutting between two lines of action, "That was taken as it happened. It was my dramatic instinct I guess, I just added the children to my work. I wanted to show the natural scene of my working outdoors and people passing by. I wanted to be an engineer in the beginning and I came to the United States with that idea."22 Kiyooka juxtaposes shots of his own work on the engine with scenes of children playing with a toy wagon, thematically linking the two actions as leisure activities.

Other automobiles pass in the background as Kiyooka slides under the car. Several men appear in this scene, one of whom may be professor Clark S. Northrup, Kiyooka's host for his seven years in Ithaca. As is characteristic of home movies in general, the individuals who appear in these images are part of a network of familial and close personal relationships. Kiyooka makes little attempt to record the activities of strangers and those who appear in his films are usually in the distant background in long shots. Clearly, Kiyooka's self-image as an engineer brought him into contact with the engine of the Model T Ford and the Kodak 16mm camera, although in this case he obviously asked someone to film these scenes of his work. He was friends with at least one other Japanese student at Cornell who was making home movies at the time. Most of this scene is composed of medium shots which show Kiyooka and the car together although there are occasional insert shots in close up of the engine and various parts. The scene ends with several close-up portraits of Kiyooka and his Japanese friend who smile and make faces for the camera. The camera is steadily hand-held throughout and moves to follow action in the frame. Needless to say, the film is in black and white.

At the outset, Kiyooka stages scenes of himself working on the car. He removes and cleans the valves, carburetor, and radiator. Scenes of work show up rarely in most

home movies. Typically, such amateur footage provides a compendium of pleasurable leisure activities centered around birthdays, weddings, and other holiday celebrations. As Richard Chalfen shows in Snapshot Versions of Life, "Home movies do not record the reality of everyday life. Instead we find a carefully selected repertory of highlighted scenes and occurences that a family is likely to celebrate and wish to remember."23 Kiyooka's footage is exceptional for showing an activity that many ordinary Americans enjoyed in the 1920s. One of the features of the Model T most admired by its owners was its relative simplicity. Automobile owners could tinker with this remarkable new technology and still hope to understand it. We can see, however, that Kiyooka working on the car in this fashion was itself a form of leisure activity, preparation for the adventurous trip across the U. S. In this case, comparisons with American home movies of the period would be most instructive, to know whether others made visual records of these activities. Certainly we know that people often posed for pictures next to their cars, showing pride of ownership and class. For Kiyooka, the Model T Ford was not a necessity, a means for reaching markets as, for example, for many farmers living in the countryside at the time. It really didn't provide him with functional transportation at all. The Model T was primarily a plaything, as he states, "I treated it as my toy, I never washed it."24 For an upper-class Japanese man from Tokyo, America in the 1920s was a playground.

In the film's following scene, Kiyooka stages his departure from Ithaca. From his third-story window, Kiyooka throws his clothes down to the front yard. Match-on-action cuts follow the fall of the clothes to the ground. He then appears to gather up his clothes and packs them in his steamer trunk for the trip. We must remember that Kiyooka envisioned his family, and especially his mother, as the intended audience for his films. His irreverent behavior again shows a youthful abandonment of traditional Japanese decorum and social custom. One can imagine his mother's responses to the images of his rebelliousness; she was a woman who forbade her son to see movies and carefully regulated his readings as an adolescent. According to Kiyooka, his mother had a common upper-class disdain for the movies, "My mother was a very strict woman. She considered motion pictures to be a lowdown, undesirable sort of art. No, she didn't consider it an art either. It was a very popular entertainment for other people, but not for me. So I never saw any movies at all, perhaps once or twice I saw motion pictures."25 Apparently Kiyooka had little exposure to movies in his youth; in 1989, he couldn't recall a single title of a film from the silent era.

One of the outstanding features of Kiyooka's home movies is the curious mixture of the staged and the fortuitous, the arranged and the incidental. Putting these departure scenes on film took some foresight and preparation; the technology still required some mechanical competence to record an image, subjects and makers needed to collaborate to succeed. The consistent exposure quality of his images, their careful composition and steady framing, attest to the work of an ambitious amateur, a dedicated hobbyist who took pride in his craft. With little knowledge of the movies, Kiyooka transformed this undesirable art into his own form of expression.

Once the Model T is packed, Kiyooka climbs in without opening the door, starts the car, and drives off. A series of shots show the Model T moving down East Hill towards Ithaca's downtown commercial center. At a busy intersection, he passes the Rothschild's department store. The tracks of Ithaca's street cars are visible in the brick pavement of the main State Street. As he moves out into the countryside, Kiyooka alternately glances, smiles, waves, and tips his hat at the camera, saying goodbye to the town where he had lived for seven years. Again, these elaborately staged shots suggest that communicating a message and constructing a narrative was more important to Kiyooka than recording events as they actually happened. Kiyooka's camera-conscious behavior tacitly acknowledges this fact.

As Kiyooka moves out onto the open highway, we get the first shot of the road from the point-of-view of the driver inside the car. Whoever was actually shooting the scenes of his departure has presumably been left behind. The bumpy movement of the camera suggests the feel of early road travel; even at 27 miles an hour it was something of a rocky ride. We see the horizon in the distance as the road opens, the vast fields on either side of the highway are framed only by the receding telephone poles and wires. These images document the thrill of movement and the thrill of reproducing movement through the cinema, one of the main differences between home movies and snapshot photographs. Advertisers targeted the reproduction of motion as a selling point over still photography, "Living movies--full of personal interest--are now taking their place in the modern homes of the land. Movies--that save for a lifetime the events of today you want to remember. Not in motionless fragments, but in moving action exactly as in life."26 Still photographs, once hailed as the highpoint of realism, suddenly seemed lacking. Kiyooka and the Fisches took no still photographs of their trip.

These opening scenes suggest the centrality of the automobile in the new landscape the amateur movie camera portrayed. In this sequence, the Model T Ford itself emerges as the star. In Americans on the Road, Belasco outlines this pivotal role:

Unlike the train--a huge machine that belonged to a corporation--the car belonged to the tourist and was in fact the trip's focal point. In early touring the sights were often just excuses for being in the car. Autocampers slept in cars, cooked on radiators, and used running boards as headrests for their autotents. Since most cars--especially the Model T--were simple enough to be tinkered with, the average motorist could feel that in case of breakdown he had at least an even chance of fixing it.27

Kiyooka's trip across the country in 1927 confirms many of the previously described features of early road travel and demonstrates the extent to which he had adopted distinctly American material culture and technology. Kiyooka noted in his diaries that automobile travel was less expensive than travel by train:

According to my record, for the 1670 miles between Ithaca and Lawrence, the expenditure on gasoline and oil had been $21.71. If I had come this distance by railway, the ticket alone would have cost at least $70, and that for one person only. People said that it was much cheaper to be travelling by car than living in a house, because there would be no rent to pay and considering food expenses to be about the same, the fuel expenses were negligible.28

At the time, few other countries had so thoroughly integrated the automobile into the fabric of everyday life. James Flink argues, "With the advent of the Model T and improved roads, the automobile outing and the automobile vacation became middle-class institutions."29 Although Kiyooka returned to live in Japan in 1927, he never vacationed by car there, nor did he ever go camping in his own country, "Japan is not quite right for camping. It's a very moist place and I don't think it's comfortable to sleep outdoors there. I never tried."30 Back in Japan, Kiyooka followed the norms of Japanese culture.

These opening scenes demonstrate Kiyooka's intense interest in the automobile; his experiences autocamping across the country and his amateur moviemaking show his knowledge of "things western." Kiyooka's fascination with the mechanics of the Model T Ford didn't end with the engine. The sleeping arrangements for the three campers necessitated that Kiyooka sleep in the car while the newlyweds shared a cot inside the autotent, which was

The Fisch couple had a bed, a folding bed, you know, with the tent over it. One end of the tent was tied to the car. That was their quarters at night and I slept inside the car. That was my invention. Very soon after I found that some cars were made that way. Part of the front seat was hinged and made to fall backwards. The back of the front seat is hinged. I had the garageman saw down both sides of the front seat and add hinges to the bottom, so that the back of the front seat will fall backwards and that will make front, middle, and rear cushions. All three make a nice bed. Well, I won't say nice--it was very bumpy--but it fitted my back very nicely.31

Kiyooka made the Model T Ford to his own size, even going so far as to write, "The Model T Ford seemed to have been custom built to fit my body."32 Kiyooka identified with the car as an extension of the human body, a self-moving machine.

The centrality of the Model T Ford in this newly evolving social landscape appears in manifold other ways in Kiyooka's films and the diaries. The performance of the car and the condition of the roads provided a forum for social exchange between travellers. Lacking a tourist infrastructure, travellers had to rely on word of mouth about routes to follow and they frequently aided one another in case of car trouble. On June 17, ten miles west of Columbia, Missouri, Kiyooka's Model T broke down after just eight days on the road. Judging from the narrative interest devoted to this incident, the breakdown was one of the more memorable occasions of the trip. Professor Kiyooka took much pleasure in re-telling the story of this breakdown sixty-two years later. His 1976 manuscript devotes several pages to describing this event:

We were running along a fine concrete road at our usual 27 miles an hour. The engine suddenly raced up and the car began slowing down. The clutch pedal and the brake seemed to have gone dead. The car coasted along a hundred yards out of control. Then a scraping sound and the car fell upon its belly as the left rear wheel came off and went rolling and wabbling ahead of us till it fell into the ditch. We stopped after skidding ten yards. Now that we knew what was the matter, we in unison broke out laughing. But our laughing did not last long as we realized how far we had come from the last garage we passed on the roadside. It was a cloudy day, and it was beginning to rain lightly. We were helpless.

Just at that moment, a farmer leading a cow came across the field laughing. "Just as I was watching your car," he said between his laughter, "the rear wheel began to slide out. The axle stretched further and further out, and just as I yelled, 'That wheel's coming off,' Plump! it popped off. It was the funniest sight I've ever seen."

He repeated it many times over with lively gestures. He laughed and laughed till he was literally doubling over himself. We watched him dumbfounded. After a while, the farmer began to say he would go and get help for us at a garage just round the corner, and he ran off leading his cow, singing to himself. In a few minutes, he was back in a truck with the garage man, still repeating his narration with gestures.33

Astonishingly, Kiyooka had the presence of mind to remember to film this mechanical breakdown. The shots are uncharacteristically under-exposed, suggesting the inadequacy of the light from the overcast cloudy sky and perhaps a certain hastiness in Kiyooka's preparation to film. The people in the images appear completely oblivious to the presence of the camera, an interesting fact of Kiyooka's shooting style which suggests a more documentary emphasis than typical home movies. In home movies, the act of shooting often takes precedence over whatever else may be happening and, as a result, people pose and act specifically for the camera. In this sequence, we see three men lifting the car off of its broken axle. The ground is streaked with rain as Ruth watches in the background. They walk alongside the Model T as another automobile pulls it towards the garage. Events such as these formed some of the excitement for early automobile travellers and provided no small part of the stories they would later tell and of the films they would later show about their adventures on the road. Again, since this was a leisurely vacation, all aspects of the trip fueled Kiyooka's imagination and his sense of adventure. As Belasco notes, "Bad weather, muddy roads, washouts, a fellow motorist stranded ahead were unpredictable events that intervened and forced even the most scheduled tourist to stop, take a breather, meet fellow tourists, and take in the view."34 Waylaid by the breakdown, Kiyooka and the Fisches spent the night in the upstairs room of the local general store, their camping plans still thwarted. This housing arrangement may be seen as an improvised hotel to host tourists before the development of roadside motels. For nine dollars, the local garage mechanic fixed the axle, and the next day they set out towards Lawrence, Kansas.

Kiyooka documented how the automobile was changing the shape of the American landscape. Throughout his film, he returns to travelling shots taken from the car, hurtling past farmlands, bridges, rivers, and towns, providing the narrative momentum of the journey west. In a brief sequence somewhere in Kansas, a highway marker appears in several frames, indicating route 40, the celebrated Lincoln highway. We see a shot of a road sign boasting of "Red Crown Gasoline." Kiyooka noticed how road signs appeared well in advance of the stations themselves, giving the motorist enough time to slow down. He described this phenomenon for his Japanese readers in 1928:

This icecream stand corresponds to what we call the tea stall in Japan. The only curious thing about it was that its sign stood a quarter of a mile away from the stand. This was from necessity for stopping a car that came at forty miles an hour. This kind of eating places and gasoline stations by the roadside were a new development of very recent years since the motor trips became an everyday affair.35

Kiyooka delineates a landscape recently made for the automobile. In a two-shot sequence, he attempts to convey the look of this autoscape. First we see the road sign passing by, then we pass by a gas station. Presumably, when Kiyooka showed the film to family and friends, he provided just this kind of interpretive commentary on the landscape so different from that of Japan. Home movies and travelogues of this nature are typically accompanied during projection by an explanatory voice-over narration by the filmmaker. Here, as elsewhere in his writings and films, Kiyooka himself stands as a mediator, a translator between American and Japanese culture. Kiyooka might have sought a wider audience for his films than just his family and friends if a system of 16mm travelogue distribution had been in place in Japan in the 1920s. Clearly it was easier to find a publisher for a written account for a general audience.

The structure and condition of the roads reappear throughout the films and diaries. We see horse-drawn carriages sloshing through the muddy main street of a town

The rest of the road might be quite dry, but once in awhile there's a small patch of mud. Anyway, it's a small area that's very muddy and the cars will get stuck in it. The first time we ran into this mud hole, we didn't know anything about it, and we wondered whether we could go beyond that point or not. Perhaps the unpaved road would last until we got to California. So we were really concerned about whether we could go or not. The mud hole we found was just a small area, maybe thirty feet across, and so if you passed that mud hole you are on dry ground again. The best way was to run into the mud hole and get stuck and wait until another car comes in the other direction. They would stop before running into the mud hole. We'd ask them to pull us out and we'd throw them a rope or something. When you get out of the car you have to be ready to walk in the mud to throw them a rope. They tie the rope to the car and pull us out and we say thank you and go on. Then this man who helped us out goes into the mud hole and waits for another car to come along to pull him out. When you get used to it, it isn't too bad if you take it in the right spirit.37

The landscape of the prairie states captured Kiyooka's imagination. He preferred long shots to take in these views, although he was not adverse to positioning objects in the foreground and middleground as well. From a fixed camera position, we see Max, Ruth, and Kiyooka unpacking their lunch along a roadside ditch. The great depth of field shows the vast expanse of the horizon beyond them. Of these roadside picnics, Kiyooka stated, "There was no point in going anywhere else. Of course, we would look for shade, a tree, or something. But in the prairie, in the movie, there was no shade within sight, no tree within sight, so we had to just sit out in the open. And that's why I took a picture of it, it was so unique, you know, having lunch like that out in the open."39 Kiyooka even devised a characteristic shooting style to encompass the panoramas he saw and wanted to record. He offers several 360° pans of the landscape, constructed of multiple shots. The spring wound motor of his Cine-Kodak couldn't take shots longer than twenty seconds, so he would pan across part of the landscape, stop to rewind the motor, and then begin the pan at the point where the last shot ended. In each case, then, there is a brief jump cut, a practice which nevertheless allowed Kiyooka to piece together a spatially continuous scene, representing the open vistas before him.

Another picnic scene shows Ruth and Max eating by a fence in the shade of the Model T. Then, with Max taking his turn behind the camera, we see Kiyooka and Ruth packing the car after their meal. This exchange of the camera seems to take place so that everyone will appear in the footage. They don't clown for the camera as people in home movies often do but rather go about their activities with industrious indifference. The flat grasslands of the prairie were unlike any landscape Kiyooka had ever seen, "Prairie is just so wide open, you know, nothing higher than yourself. If you stand up you are the tallest thing within sight."40 In the film, Kiyooka offers a series of lovely portraits of his friends in the prairie landscape, silhouetted against the setting sun on the horizon. Then, Ruth takes the camera and frames Max and Kiyooka against the horizon, where Kiyooka and Max are clearly the tallest things within sight. This day-to-night structure punctuates the narrative by appearing halfway through the film and then again in the very last shot, the setting sun on the Pacific ocean as the ship carries Kiyooka homeward.

A later picnic scene brought out some of the characteristics of home movies, especially their function as memory devices. Max, Ruth, and Kiyooka are having breakfast along the riverbed of the Rio Grande in a long shot taken from a fixed angle. Kiyooka follows this establishing shot with several delightful close-ups of Max, Ruth, and the campfire they are tending. There are very few close-ups throughout this film; the vast majority of shots are medium and long shots. Upon seeing these images sixty-two years after they were taken, Max said, "That's better, I've been wishing the pictures of Ruth were clearer."41 In 1974, Ruth Bales Fisch died. Over time, the value of the images shifted. What was filmed is not necessarily what one wishes, in retrospect, had been filmed. Memories, too, fade and wear away. Max, whose own recollections of the trip were a poignant reminder of the frailty of human memory, was no doubt struck with the vibrant images of Ruth smiling that morning, camping on the riverbed on their honeymoon trip across the country.

On their automobile trip, Kiyooka and the Fisches experienced the entire range of camping arrangements then available, from roadside autotent camping, free municipal autocamps, and relatively expensive cabin camps. In these campgrounds, which Kiyooka never filmed, the travellers met and shared stories and food with others like themselves. Kiyooka described these campgrounds in the rhetoric of democratic populism:

The camps are the most interesting places in the country, for all manner of people come together to spend a night together and part the next morning to all different destinations. Some would be driving a fine car with expensive camping equipment; some would be nursing and coaxing his rickety old car from stalling; some are well-to-do men and their families; some are almost pennyless vagabonds. Some are laborers looking for jobs; there may be a man moving to another town with all his big family and all his possessions piled high on his truck; he may be carrying his dogs, cats and even chickens.

All these people draw water from the same source, talk together while they cook. They exchange informations on the best road to take and gossip all about the happenings on the road. In these camps at least, there is not discrimation between rich or poor, coarse or cultured. When someone's engine fails

to start or his cooking range goes out of order, all the campers take interest and help.42

Earlier Japanese visitors to the United States had spoken of the country in similar terms. According to Tadashi Aruga, the Japanese delegates of the first mission to the U. S. in 1860 noted the same informality between individuals and different social classes, "Compared with the highly stratified, etiquette-ridden Japanese society, the republican nation was strikingly informal and devoid of class and status distinctions. To the conservative Muragaki, these American characteristics were distasteful. Some samurai of lower status, however, viewed the same characteristics with favor."43 Travelling across the country sixty-seven years after the first Japanese mission, Kiyooka admired many of the same features in the American social landscape.

Aruga also notes that although the members of the first mission visited in 1860, they failed to realize that slavery was the critical issue dividing the nation. Kiyooka's written account of the 1920s speaks explicitly of his encounter with segregation and racism in restaurants and hotels. Reluctant to say anything unpleasant about America during the interviews, our persistent questions elicited this response from Kiyooka, "This is my first experience of Americans trying to find something to make themselves look bad."44 Reluctantly, Kiyooka described his experiences in St. Louis, "I saw the signs at a small restaurant, dining room, and then on each side a little note saying, 'Colored People's Eating Place,' with an arrow pointing to the kitchen. At that restaurant, white people and negroes were not supposed to eat in the same rooms together. I just wondered what door I should enter. Later, I found that we foreigners are taken into the white people's room."45 As a Japanese man, Kiyooka transgressed rigid racial boundaries between whites and blacks. Although he wrote about these events and remembered them well, Kiyooka did not film anything remotely associated with the issue of racism, perhaps a feature of the tendency of home movie makers to

Throughout their trip, Kiyooka and the Fisches appear surprisingly well dressed for the occasion, in knickers, high socks, and motoring caps. Max even sports a striped tie in several scenes. When we mentioned this to Professor Fisch, he reminded us that the images were not unmediated views of actuality, "Sometimes we were dressing for the films. We had the clothes with us and if we wanted to take a picture in which we would look well cared for, we might dress up a little."46 Like photographs, films are invested with specific views of the world, delicately balanced between construction and recording. The travellers wanted to present dapper, sporting, and adventurous images of themselves as campers. Kiyooka, however, does not limit himself to reproducing views of himself in the landscape. Whereas most home movies and travelogues insist upon the travellers' presence in every scene, Kiyooka and his friends are often content to remain behind the camera, focusing on the lay of the land. By placing so much emphasis on the countryside and the material culture of the United States, Kiyooka shows that much of what interested him was happening out there in the landscape. Throughout the film, he includes shots of various farm animals, water pumps, wells, and wagons.

There are several points in the trip where Kiyooka's various narrative accounts implicitly contradict one another. Shortly after he leaves Ithaca, the film cuts to scenes of bears pacing around and seals swimming in an unmarked zoo. In the 1989 interviews, Kiyooka suggested that it might be the Cleveland Zoo. However, his 1976 manuscript shows no record of a trip to any zoos east of Indianapolis and in fact, at the trip's outset, his written itinerary shows that he was speeding to attend his friends' wedding in Winchester, Indiana and had no time for sightseeing. To some extent, all of the departure footage belies the feeling of haste conveyed in his written account. Amateur moviemaking was a leisurely process that took time. The high quality of most of Kiyooka's footage suggests that he put some care and planning into making these images. It is entirely possible that the opening footage of his departure was filmed some time before he actually started out on the trip. Likewise, I believe that these scenes of the zoo were spliced in later to provide a visual contrast with the repetitive driving scenes. Perhaps they were taken during a different trip to Cleveland, although it is possible that he didn't write about this visit in his published account because it contradicted the textual suspense of his race against the clock to Winchester for the wedding.

This perspective implies, however, that the movie footage provides a more accurate account of the trip, an assumption that we cannot make. It seems more likely that these shots, whose density and contrast vary with those before and after, were added at a later date, although Kiyooka himself no longer remembers for sure. Kiyooka's inability to recall indicates how home movies are specifically linked to memory, as Chris Musello notes in a study of family photography, "Because the interpretations are based in processes of recall, over time the power and value of these images may evolve and change or even be lost as memory decays. Thus photograph collections as documentary resources are perhaps more closely associated with an oral rather than a written tradition."47 In any case, we see shots of bears pacing back and forth in carefully reconstructed natural environments, on display for early tourists and city dwellers. As well as the bears, we see several shots of a man feeding seals, further evidence of the animal world's increasing dependence on its human brethren.

This domestication of the natural suggests a parallel for the experiences of the wild west that cross-country tourism offered. The tamed natural world, no longer a threat to human inhabitation, became a curiosity for sightseers. These shots of the zoo, beautifully composed and exposed with the bears prominently displayed in the foreground, contrast well with later shots of uncaged bears encountered "in a California forest."48 The uncaged bears lurk in the distance in hastily composed and poorly exposed views. They are partially obscured by the natural environment and are not easily available for amateur moviemakers to film. In the zoo, the animals exist to be seen and photographed. These insights may reinforce Dean MacCannell's thesis in The Tourist that modern industrial society solidifies its triumph over earlier social forms through the preservation and transformation of lingering artifacts into tourist attractions.49 Kiyooka's later encounters with Navajo Indians and Spanish-style architecture in the southwest suggest a similar analysis.

Kiyooka devotes a considerable amount of footage to the architecture of the southwest. Their cross-country trip from Ithaca to San Francisco detoured through the southwest, especially New Mexico, because Kiyooka and the Fisches were fascinated by the Indian and Spanish influences in the region. In the 1920s, a vogue developed for the culture of the southwest, as artists such as Georgia O'Keeffe and others explored native themes and styles in their work. Kiyooka wrote, "Naturally many artists had migrated here and there was an artists' quarter at one end of the town. Also there was a very interesting art museum exhibiting both purely Indian arts, those of the old Span-

ish missions, and of contemporary artists."50 These regional differences were a major novelty for Kiyooka and provided one of the main motivations for the trip, "American culture, the usual American culture is more or less familiar in Tokyo and Japanese towns, and so it isn't anything too different or too new for us. But those Spanish-style houses and shrines are interesting."51 Repeatedly the two friends returned to descriptions of this region in their stories of the 1927 trip. As Earl Pomeroy suggests in In Search of the Golden West, the mythology and exoticism of the west provided a major attraction for tourism, "Perhaps the most striking aspect of the changing attitudes towards nature was the new vogue of the Southwestern desert that had developed since the 1890s and reached spectacular dimensions in the thirties."52

With his friends Max Fisch and Ruth Bales, Kiyooka drove across the United States in his Model T Ford, camping along the way. With a Cine-Kodak camera in tow, he saw the Rocky mountains, a rodeo, the Grand Canyon, and the great plains. By and large, these travellers avoided big cities, preferring the great outdoors. For over forty days, Kiyooka slept in the front seat of his mass-produced Model T, tailored to his own specifications. In St. Louis, although he ate in segregated restaurants--where his own place was uncertain--his faith in American democracy remained unshaken, "After this trip I decided that Americans were very kind and sympathetic. They were all good natured. During this trip of about forty days, there was not one instance when I heard unpleasant language."53 He identified with white middle-class Americans and saw the United States as a model for the future development of Japan.

The trip confirmed Kiyooka's earlier impressions of America, "In Japan in my time--in my time meaning in my childhood--we heard all the good things about America."54 Kiyooka's films and diaries embrace a popular image of America, a great landscape that he saw in the process of becoming a nation. Kiyooka recorded the

complaints of an American archaeologist encountered in New Mexico, "Rich Americans were willing to give money to all the studies of things far away from home, but how much would they give to the excavation of their homeland? Men like Mr. Halseth were always hard up raising money for study and for digging. Well, Americans at that time had so little interest in their own history and culture."55 Like many Americans, Kiyooka embraced new mass-produced technologies that changed the way the social landscape was used and represented. He set out on his journey to learn from his travels, record them, and share them with his family, friends, and compatriots in Japan.

Kiyooka Eiichi never became an engineer. Nor did his filmmaking activities ever extend beyond that of the amateur home movie maker. In the 1930s, during a time of increasing militarism and anti-American sentiment in Japan, Kiyooka worked translating into English the autobiography of his illustrious grandfather, Fukuzawa, to celebrate the 100th anniversary of his birth. The Autobiography of Fukuzawa, a work describing a lifetime of engagement with the culture of the western world--written in a form commensurate with enlightenment individualism--appeared in English, translated by Kiyooka, in 1934. Fukuzawa's life, from 1835 to 1901, spanned the period of Japan's modernization along western lines, "This Fukuzawa was a rather unique kind of person who was born in the feudal age--Japan was under the Shogun's rule and was really a feudal society--but Fukuzawa was a very unique and free-minded person who was trying to find something new all the time."56 Kiyooka's translation made the story of Fukuzawa, the great Japanese promoter of western ideas, available to western readers and marked the beginning of Kiyooka's career as a translator of his grandfather's works, a further extension of Kiyooka's own engagement with the culture of the United States and the western world.

Notes

1. Jeffrey K. Ruoff, "Interviews With Kiyooka Eiichi and Maxwell Fisch," (Unpublished, 1989), 22. (back)

2. Kenneth J. Ruoff, "The Making of a Moderate in Prewar Japan: Kiyooka Eiichi," (Unpublished B. A. thesis, Department of Asian Studies, Harvard University, 1989), 44. (back)

3. Warren Belasco, Americans on the Road: From Autocamp to Motel, 1910-1945 (Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 1979), 17. (back)

4. Belasco, Americans on the Road, 72. (back)

5. Tad Burness, Cars of the Early Twenties (Philadelphia, PA: Chilton Book Company,1968), 109. (back)

6. Tadashi Aruga, "The First Japanese Mission to the United States--1860," in Abroad in America: Visitors to the New Nation, 1776-1914, ed. Mark Pachter (Reading, MA: Addison Wesley Publishing Co. in Association With the Smithsonian Institution, 1976), 143-4. (back)

7. K. Ruoff, "The Making of a Moderate," 12-19. (back)

8. Ibid., 28. (back)

9. J. Ruoff, "Interviews With Kiyooka Eiichi," 8. (back)

10. Ibid., 7. (back)

11. Ibid. (back)

12. Ibid. (back)

13. Kiyooka Eiichi, "Across the United States in a Model T Ford--1927," (Unpublished, 1976), 2. (back)

14. J. Ruoff, "Interviews With Kiyooka Eiichi," 5. (back)

15. Carey S. Bliss, Autos Across America: A Bibliography of Transcontinental Automobile Travel, 1903-1940 (New Haven, CN: Jenkins and Reese Companies, 1982). (back)

16. Belasco, Americans on the Road, 7. (back)

17. Ibid., 35. (back)

18. Glenn E. Matthews and Raife G. Tarkington, "Early History of Amateur Motion Picture Film," in A Technological History of Motion Pictures and Television, ed. Raymond Fielding (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1967), 140. (back)

19. Alan D. Kattelle, "The Evolution of Amateur Motion Picture Equipment, 1895-1965," Journal of Film and Video 38, no. 3-4 (Summer-Fall 1986): 51. (back)

20. Kiyooka, "Across the United States in a Model T Ford," 71. (back)

21. J. Ruoff, "Interviews With Kiyooka Eiichi," 18. (back)

22. Ibid., 19. (back)

23. Richard Chalfen, Snapshot Versions of Life (Bowling Green, OH: Bowling Green State University Press, 1987), 64. (back)

24. J. Ruoff, "Interviews With Kiyooka Eiichi," 7. (back)

25. Ibid., 8. (back)

26. Bell and Howell Corporation, "Bell and Howell Advertising Brochure," (Chicago, IL, 1927), 3. (back)

27. Belasco, Americans on the Road, 35.(back)

28. Kiyooka, "Across the United States in a Model T Ford," 18. (back)

29. James J. Flink, The Automotive Age (Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 1988), 167. (back)

30. J. Ruoff, "Interviews With Kiyooka Eiichi," 18. (back)

31. Ibid., 9. (back)

32. Kiyooka, "Across the United States in a Model T Ford," 3. (back)

33. Ibid., 13-14. (back)

34. Belasco, Americans on the Road, 22. (back)

35. Kiyooka, "Across the United States in a Model T Ford," 8. (back)

36. J. Ruoff, "Interviews With Kiyooka Eiichi," 8. (back)

37. Ibid., 22-3. (back)

38. Ibid., 22. (back)

39. Ibid., 23. (back)

40. Ibid., 11. (back)

41. Ibid., 16. (back)

42. Kiyooka, "Across the United States in a Model T Ford," 18-19. (back)

43. Aruga, "The First Japanese Mission to the United States," 140. (back)

44. J. Ruoff, "Interviews With Kiyooka Eiichi," 12. (back)

45. Ibid. (back)

46. Ibid., 3. (back)

47. Chris Musello, "Studying the Home Mode: An Exploration of Family Photography and Visual Communication," Studies in Visual Communication 6, no. 1 (Spring 1980), 40. (back)

48. Kiyooka, "Across the United States in a Model T Ford," 70. (back)

49. Dean MacCannell, The Tourist: A New Theory of the Leisure Class (New York: Schocken Books, 1976), 8. (back)

50. Kiyooka, "Across the United States in a Model T Ford," 44. (back)

51. J. Ruoff, "Interviews With Kiyooka Eiichi," 12. (back)

52. Earl Pomeroy, In Search of the Golden West: The Tourist in Western America (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1957), 158. (back)

53. K. Ruoff, "The Making of a Moderate in Prewar Japan," 44-5. (back)

54. J. Ruoff, "Interviews With Kiyooka Eiichi," 13. (back)

55. Kiyooka, "Across the United States in a Model T Ford," 52. (back)

56. J. Ruoff, "Interviews With Kiyooka Eiichi," 24. (back)