Born
September 16, 1925
Passed Away
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Service
Japanese American National Museum on Sunday, May 23, 2010 at 1:00 PM
Obituary for Momo Kwong

KWONG, MOMO NAGANO (84) passed away on March 31, 2010 in Los Angeles. She is survived by her children, Maria (Gary van der Steur), Dan, Diana, and Barbara (Poppy) Kwong; grand-daughter, Hana van der Steur; sister-in-law, Otome Nagano; nieces, Nancy and Naomi Nagano; nephew, Chris Nagano; grand-nephews, Joseph Maxwell and Aaron Aiji Nagano, and Jesse Aiji Benjamin Nagano-Wolfe.
To sum up Momo Nagano Kwong’s life in a paragraph or two is impossible. The more one contemplates the various chapters of her life and the numerous friends and strangers she has influenced and inspired, the less possible it seems to do her justice in an obituary.
The bare facts are these: She was born in Los Angeles, second child and only daughter of Kiro and Ai Nagano from Sapporo, Hokkaido, Japan. She had two brothers, Daisuke and Aiji, who sadly preceded her in death at the young ages of 44 and 54. She grew up in the Seinan area of Los Angeles (30th St. and Arlington), which she later memorialized in an art piece that resides in the permanent collection at the Japanese American National Museum (you can read more about it here: http://www.discovernikkei.org/en/howto/objects/)
Her rather ordinary American childhood became extraordinary when she and her family were incarcerated at Manzanar, one of America’s concentration camps for Japanese American citizens during World War II. Her life began to take a unique path from that time. Her father, who was imprisoned separately from the rest of the family, encouraged her to attend college, and with the assistance of the Quakers, she was accepted to Wheaton College in Norton, MA after graduating from the first class at Manzanar High School.
Being the only Japanese American at Wheaton during the war was challenging, but Momo’s innate stubbornness and outgoing spirit eventually won her some lifelong friendships and a degree in history. She also developed a love of train travel as she traversed the country to and from Manzanar to Massachusetts during her college years.
Upon graduating from college, she reluctantly returned home to take her place as a dutiful daughter. But she wasn’t quite ready to settle down to one path. When she returned to California, she studied ceramics and painting, never realizing it would ultimately result in a lifelong career in the arts. She also did office work at various places. While working at a Chinese import company, she met a young Chinese immigrant, Sam Kwong, with whom she impetuously eloped against her parents’ wishes.
During her eleven-year marriage to Sam she gave birth to four children in a six-year span (something she might have thought twice about had she considered the demands of someday parenting four teenagers at the same time.) Raising Maria, Dan, Diana (aka Didi), and Barbara (aka Poppy) became her full-time occupation for the next decade and a half. She did much of this as a working single mother, taking part-time jobs at nights or while her children were in school.
Her early interest in art led her to attend art school when her kids were old enough for her to be away for a class or two. She initially pursued ceramics and turned the garage of her Silverlake home into a makeshift studio. She also installed a kiln in her front yard and would have all-night firing parties. Her circle of friends were among the first artists to settle a thriving art community in Venice, CA. She would split her time between Silverlake and Venice, hauling her kids around in one beat-up station wagon or another to spend a childhood roaming the beach and learning how to create art. She spent many years representing one of her artist-friends, whose work filled our house with color, light, and sculpture that attracted buyers like Vincent Price and Roger Corman.
During this same period, her older brother Daisuke died at a very young age, abruptly ending his rising career as an architect.
In the late 60s, after taking a weaving class at Barnsdall Art Center, Momo’s artistic career took a major turn. The course taught very traditional weaving techniques on a standard harness loom. But this was the 60s, and artists were stretching crafts from their original forms and purposes. Momo began experimenting with different materials—sometimes incorporating mechanical components or plant material into her weavings—as well as exploring other weaving styles on Navajo upright and Mexican backstrap looms.
Soon her living room was transformed into a weaving studio where she would work on pieces that would extend from floor to ceiling. She was now representing her own artwork to the same architects and interior designers she had previously approached with her friend’s work. In addition to creating commissioned pieces, Momo began teaching weaving, both privately and at Immaculate Heart College.
The 70s saw Momo’s kids enrolled in colleges around the country, from the obscure (St. John’s College) to the prestigious (Smith, Scripps and the Art Institute of Chicago). It was a great source of pride for her to have all four of her children in school. During the college years many of her children’s fellow students called Momo’s house their second home.
Sadly, during this decade both her parents died, and she became closer than ever to her sole remaining family member, her younger brother, Aiji. But in 1981, Aiji died of a sudden heart attack leaving her in shock and feeling alone.
After Aiji’s death, Momo lost interest in her own artwork. But after a couple of years, she began a new chapter of life as Gallery Assistant at the Japanese American Cultural and Community Center. Her previous experience in the arts made her a perfect liaison to artists, and being back in the Japanese American community reunited her with many old family friends from her past. Outspoken and fearless, she was often interviewed about her experience at Manzanar by students and other people interested in the growing movement that culminated in the Redress and Reparations Bill of1988, compensating and apologizing to survivors of WWII Japanese American internment camps.
Another event in the 80s that re-invigorated Momo’s life was the birth of her only grandchild, Hana Nell van der Steur. Momo was now called “Baach” and became one of the most integral parts of Hana’s life.
Momo worked at the JACCC for ten years—the longest single job she had after motherhood. In 1991 she suffered a near fatal heart attack in Las Vegas (in the 80s she had discovered Vegas and would take frequent trips with her sister-in-law, Otome, to “have fun.”) After her recovery, she decided to retire and enjoy hanging out with her grandchild. They even started a tradition of train trips to Seattle so Momo could share her joy of traveling with Hana.
It was also at this time that it became apparent to Momo’s children that they needed to step up and take better care of their precious maternal resource. Didi and Poppy frequently traveled with Momo to fun and far-flung places. Her son Dan shuttled her to numerous art events and performances, keeping her in touch with the art world and creative people. Maria and husband Gary took advantage of her love for Hana and relied on Momo as a third parent.
Momo continued to be creative in different ways. She edited a book on the history of judo in Southern California and a biography of a prominent Japanese American city official. She also worked on putting her own stories of her life down in writing.
But health problems continued to plague Momo through the 90s and into the new millennium. Loss of hearing, a hip replacement, a few more heart attacks, and finally dementia, wore her down. And this former dynamo of a woman who had once simultaneously juggled the lives of four teenagers, gradually became the child of her children and grandchild.
This story has a sad ending, but the journey was wild, colorful, and exciting. And as mentioned in the beginning, this is really just the bare bones of the Legend of Momo. The story of her life is an enormous legacy for her children, her grandchild, her nieces, nephew and grand-nephews. And there are stories that other people have yet to tell.
Share some with us.
A “Momo-rial” celebration for family and friends will be held on Sunday, May 23 at 1:00 pm, at the Japanese American National Museum, 100 N. Central Avenue, Los Angeles 90012.
In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in Momo’s name to the Japanese American Cultural and Community Center (jaccc.org) or the Japanese American National Museum (janm.org).
Any questions can be directed to kwongsteur@vandersteur.com.
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