Roy was born in Los Angeles during the height of the Depression to first generation immigrant parents rom Japan. His mother, Shige Yagura was a very strong-willed business woman who worked her way up rom being a maid and cook, to owning a hotel, a diner and pool hall near LAʼs skid row on 5th Street that catered mainly to young Japanese coming to the US to study. His father Tokuhichi Iwaki, was also a business-savvy entrepreneur who owned a drug store in LAʼs Little Tokyo. Royʼs playground was downtown LA with friendly drunks as playmates.
Just before Royʼs 6th birthday, war broke out with Japan. Roy, along with his mother and older siblings, Amy and Joe, were suddenly told they had one week to make arrangements to relocate somewhere in the middle of the California desert. That place was Manzanar Relocation Camp, one of several camps housing over 100,000 Japanese, most of which were American citizens. Royʼs father had gone back to Japan to live with his other family. Roy always thought that his father had more than one wife at any given time.
Royʼs take on his internment experience was rather unique. It was the first time he had other kids to play with, so when it came to applying for the $20,000 reparations that President Reagan signed into order, he declined on the grounds that he felt he was not inconvenienced. More to this later.
After the war, the family moved to Salt Lake City briefly, but eventually moved back to LA where his mom started to build back the business she had lost. After graduating from high school, Roy wanted to see the world, so he enlisted in the Air Force where his duties included arial reconnaissance photography. He was stationed somewhere in Europe and traveled extensively experiencing the diverse cultures all within a dayʼs train ride in many cases.
Having served his tour of duty, Roy returned to the States and enrolled in UC Berkeley to study architecture. The year was 1961. When he arrived at Cal, he found himself at the epicenter of the 60ʼs counter-culture revolution that was just starting to pick up where the beat generation had left off. When the Vietnam War became a focal point for protest, he participated in an act of civil disobedience by crossing the Golden Gate bridge while dumping nails on the roadway. Iʼm sure the night spent in the slammer was worth it to him.
Diploma in hand, Roy decides to go to Japan for a year before starting his architectural career. His mother had returned to Japan for a couple of years to attend to business so he had a place to stay. This is where he comes to appreciate the traditional Japanese arts, especially wood block printing and origami. I believe this experience started to fan a small flame that was ignited in him while studying architecture. Roy was always fascinated with structure and he started to think about the possibilities of what paper can do.
Returning to the States. Roy started his professional career in architecture. After a couple of years in practice, he came to realize that he was too much of a right-brained individual to meet the deadlines and schedules that are essential to a practicing architect. This is where his path to self-discovery begins and he decides to leave the profession, but not completely. He discovered that the act of building and working with his hands was more to his calling.
Iʼm not sure when the first (roundfolded, single-sheet, paper) masks were designed. All I remember as a young child in the late 60ʼs was opening a present from Roy and finding these very cool masks that didnʼt look like anything Iʼd seen before. A short visit from him would follow and than back to the Bay area. He spent most of his life in Sonoma county living in very unique venues, including a Zen center. He was deeply involved in the arts community and touched many lives during this prolific period. He attended many county fairs, arts festivals and art galleries giving demonstrations of his unique art form. By the early 90ʼs, he wanted to find a place he could call his own. This is where the story picks up from the interment reparations.
Roy decided to buy shares in a housing cooperative in Richmond in the East Bay of the San Francisco ay area. A housing development originally built to house shipyard workers during WWII was converted into low-cost housing for people tired of renting, but not able to buy into the single family housing market of the Bay area. Roy needed $20,000 to buy in. Being a man of principle, he decided to claim the reparation monies that would have gone to his mother if she were alive. So, with a bit of rationalization, Roy became an owner in a housing co-op. This became his sanctuary, a place where he could practice art through designing rock gardens, fish ponds, simple but elegant protective shelters over decks and of course, making masks and eventually writing his book with his faithful companion of 15 years beside him, Yo-yo, his beautiful dog who passed away only a few weeks before Royʼs tragic accident.
The one thing Roy always wanted was to get his message out there. Nothing would have pleased him more if some young person had come across his book, started to experiment with his techniques and proceeded to take the experimentation even further. And this is what Roy did with the traditional straight fold in traditional origami. He blazed a new trail and hopefully, someone will branch off his path and discover something completely unique, as did Roy.
----Michio Valian, (Roy's nephew)