Motty-chon: the way you pronounce Marty-chan, the affectionate childhood nickname for a Japanese American boy named Martin.

Only now Marty is 49 years old, still single and still living with his parents.

And everyone's wondering why.

A new play by Perry Miyake

As you may know, my play Motty-chon was cancelled by East West Players midway through our rehearsal period when our actor playing the father, Mako, was forced to drop out due to illness.

Unfortunately, his illness turned out to be esophageal cancer in an advanced stage and on July 21, three months to the day of our final meeting, Mako died.

As you can imagine, the suddenness of his death, combined with the influence he wielded on everyone involved in this play and anyone connected with East West Players, has stunned and saddened us all.

From the beginning, this was a special production.

This play would've been Mako's first time back on the EWP stage in eighteen years and most of us involved have had a long history with Mako and Susie, Shizuko Hoshi, Mako's wife, who was playing the mother.

Mako co-founded East West Players in 1965 and was its founding Artistic Director during the early lean years. His leadership and vision kept the theater growing through the 70's and 80's. By the time he left in 1989, EWP was the pre-eminent Asian American theater company and one of the most resilient theater companies in the country.

Motty-chon's director, Alberto Isaac, was EWP's co-artistic director with Mako in the 70's and 80's, when the theater enjoyed its biggest growth.

Emily Kuroda, who was playing Motty's cousin, has worked with Mako consistently from the time she joined EW in the late 70's.

Ken Narasaki, who was playing Motty, was in the 1988 film version of The Wash with Mako.

When I first joined the theater company, Mako had just finished his Tony-nominated role in Stephen Sondheim's Pacific Overtures on Broadway and in the national tour. EWP then received permission to produce P.O. on its 99-seat stage, and while taking acting, singing, and writing classes, I was running the light board for Pacific Overture's first long run.

We took a break to put on a CBS-sponsored traveling summer show, where I received my first writing credits, short comedy skits used for filler between musical acts and long set pieces, including a one-act called F.A.P. (First Asian President), based on an idea by Mako, who also directed the martial arts spoof I wrote.

In 1980, Mako told me and Leigh Kim that the Rockefeller Foundation Playwright-In-Residence Grant would go to one of us, based on our final rewrites. My What the Enemy Looks Like edged out Leigh's Da Kine. Both plays ran in repertory.

Enemy was directed by Alberto and one of the supporting roles was played by Emily, whom Alberto fell in love with and eventually married. The lead was played by Jim Ishida, who was originally cast as Motty's uncle but had to pull out before rehearsals began.

In 1984, Mako wanted to present an entire season of plays based on, and scheduled on the anniversaries of, historical events in Asian American history. At Mako's suggestion, my Visitors from Nagasaki evolved from a kitchen drama about a visiting A-bomb survivor into an outrageous political satire. Mako constructed the giant cockroach arms for the play's final scene and Emily won a well-deserved Dramalogue award for her lead role.

In March 2001, I received EWP's "Made In America" writing award for my body of work with them. Mako attended the pre-banquet schmooze, the first time he'd been back to any EWP function since his ouster in 1989.

And late last year, at our first table-read at Alberto and Emily's house in Echo Park, Mako told me he'd bought several copies of my novel, 21st Century Manzanar, and mailed it to friends in Japan, because he thought people in Japan were finally getting interested in our history in this country.

Afterward, as he and Susie were leaving for their long drive back to Somis, Mako told me when Tim Dang first sent him the play, he wanted to see how much I'd progressed as a writer. Then he smiled and nodded, like he always did when he approved.

My greatest compliment.

Mako's final public appearance was at EWP's 41st annual awards dinner. He presented Alberto and Emily as recipients of the Rae Creevey Award for their longtime service to theater.

In his tuxedo, Mako appeared healthy and full of energy, commenting and joking as he read Alberto and Emily's introduction.

As Alberto accepted their award (Emily stood by but said she knew she couldn't speak), he thanked Mako, then turned to the audience, speechless for a moment as he acknowledged Mako, and said, "Don't you realize? This is history."

On what turned out to be our last day together, I ran into Marilyn Tokuda, who was in my first play Enemy, in the parking lot. She asked me how rehearsals were going.

I said, "For the first time in my life, they're painless." Which was true. I've never been more confident of a script.

We had a great cast and a director I've worked with before who I trust absolutely, who kept me on my toes with constant questions and requests for rewrites and adjustments that made it truly feel like a collaboration.

To have Mako and Susie play husband and wife onstage for one of the few times in their careers, was great to watch.

Standing, or pacing, in the back of the theater watching rehearsals, I was grateful for the opportunity to see my play come together like this.

It was almost secondary to be honored to have my play chosen by Mako for his comeback to the EWP stage and what that meant, after an 18 year absence, for the future of this theater.

It felt like the old days, on those warm summer nights after performances of Pacific Overtures, when Mako and Susie would cook for the cast and crew out by the back house at the old Santa Monica Blvd. location, rice cookers going, big pot of chili on the stove, barbecuing burgers or hot dogs or teriyaki beef or short ribs.

There was a real feeling of family.

Even my old friend Irma Escamilla, who I first worked with in 1980, came back to work on this show because of who was involved.

The only question mark was Mako's nagging cough that wouldn't go away.

On the day he died, I spoke briefly to Susie, and she said it was Mako's wish that there be no funeral, service or tribute, and East West has stood by those wishes.

EWP then announced its next season's schedule.

It does not include Motty-chon.

As of today, I have no idea if Motty-chon is in their future plans.

If you'd like, you can contact East West Players and remind them that you were looking forward to seeing Motty-chon at EWP this past season and tell them you'd still like to see Motty-chon done there.

Go ahead, lie.

Whining is optional.

East West Players

120 Judge John Aiso St.

Los Angeles, CA 90012

213-625-7000

Fax 213-625-7111

Once again, thank you for your support of my writing over these many years.

This time, I can't let this one go.

I think it is a good play, and so did Mako.

Perry Miyake

August 30, 2006