Peace, Freedom, and The Red-haired Vagabond

NEW YORK  - 5 p.m. at Washington Square Park, the day is slowly bleeding into dusk. 

A man with wavy red hair and a short goatee walks in front of the fountain at the center of the park. The late autumn wind tosses the silky hair below his shoulders as orange sunlight pours over him. Dull baggy fabric hangs loosely on his limbs and torso, making his red hair look brighter. He straps his 11-string guitar on his shoulder and slaps the first chord — he doesn’t know right away what the second chord may be, the melody and rhythm naturally flow out of him, Peaceful and Free. 

At the same time, on the other side of this planet, it's 7 a.m. in Osaka, Japan. A salaryman yawns on the subway in his black suit and blue tie. His hair is combed along his scalp to look cheerful and energetic, but the bags under his eyes expose his clumsy disguise much too easily. A long day in the cubicle is waiting ahead of him. 

The man in New York is Kotaro Irishio (31). Though he is better known by his stage name, Osaka Vagabond, which is inspired by Ryoma Sakamoto, an 18th century Samurai who fought against the Japanese military oligarchy. After leaving his clan out of dissatisfaction with the ruling class, the young Samurai became a ronin, or vagabond in English.

Irishio and I got into contact after I observed his performance for the first time. Sitting at a tiny ramen bar in Williamsburg, Irishio tied his long hair into a neat bun behind his head. As the waiter brought his Black Tonkotsu Ramen to the table, he closed his palm in front of his face. He whispered to himself, “Itadakimasu,” a common phrase said by Japanese people to show gratitude for a meal. I followed him in his little ritual.

Irishio went to an elite high school back in Osaka, and his entire future was laid out in front of him. But as he grew up, he got sick of the materialistic world. He said he didn’t want to end up being a “salaryman” stuck in eternal unhappiness, unable to change anything about his life like his friends back in Japan, sitting behind their shiny office desks slaving away for monthly salary. Coming to America and being a vagabond is his attempt to change his lifestyle and find Peace and Freedom. However, his reality is often more complicated.

After going to college in Springfield, Missouri for psychology and music, Irishio devoted himself to art and music, as well as Peace and Freedom – the two words Irishio deems his motto. 

Heavily influenced by the rock band Nirvana and the thriving punk culture in Japan throughout the early 2000s, Irishio moved to New York in 2014 and joined the post-punk band Nihil Admirari as their guitarist. They regularly perform in venues and parks throughout New York City, such as Bowery Electric and Moore Jackson Community Garden.

Now, as a street performer, a piano and guitar teacher, a band member, a recording studio manager, and a host for Yosemic — a monthly open mic at Chinatown — Irishio let music become his lifestyle. 

As it did for many, COVID-19 took a toll on Irishio’s morale in life. While he was content with his remote job at the time, missing 6 months of band rehearsals made him crave human connections. 

“I realized that I still want to perform for the people,” Irishio said, which is exactly what he did. One afternoon in late 2020, Irishio quit his job, picked up his guitar, stepped onto the quiet and empty streets of New York City, and started performing. 

Irishio doesn’t have a busking repertoire because he only plays improvised music. He slaps jazz and rock chord progressions and uses the guitar body as percussion. He tries to adapt to the mood of his audience. If they look energetic, his music takes a faster, more exciting pace and tone, if the audience looks peaceful, he employs a darker tone and a slower tempo, using diminished and unresolved chords.

“When you run out of ideas, something new comes up,” Irishio said.

Busking is not lucrative, but with several other jobs and gigs, Irishio doesn’t depend on busking to pay his bills. “What I can express, what people can get [from music] is so much more important than the money,” Irishio said. 

Nonetheless, he still performs regularly, even in the formidable New York City winter. “People often ask me why do I play in the cold weather,” Irishio wrote on his Instagram page back in February, “and I usually answer, ‘why not?’”

Kotaro Irishio at Washington Square Park, by Danny Liu

Irishio expressed that Peace and Freedom are difficult to balance. According to data collected by Numbeo, a crowdsourcing datasite, The streets in Osaka are a lot safer than New York City’s. With a significantly lower rate of violent crime and drug use, peace is easier to achieve in Osaka. However, Irishio’s white-collar friends back home often envy his lifestyle here, because he processes something that they don’t: freedom. Irishio is largely self-employed, his life not dependent on the mood of his boss, so he uses all his time to explore music and build his passion in a city full of freelance artists like him. That is also the reason why Irishio doesn’t want to busk in subway stations since the MTA asks artists to adhere to a schedule in order to perform.

“I don’t want [busking] to become a job,” Irishio said, “I prefer [it to be] spontaneous.”

Outside of the restaurant, Irishio lit a cigarette. He took a drag while the cars zoomed past thrift stores and cafes. Puffing out the smoke, the Vagabond was pondering.

“Politicians can’t change policies, but arts can,” Irishio said. He cited the French Revolution, as artists steered away from the fluffy and soft style of Rococo and turned to the more serious and rational style of Neoclassicism to inspire citizens in political turmoil. Using freestyle improvisation while he busks, he hopes to inspire his audience to follow their heart, no matter who they might be. “I perform for everybody,” Said Irishio.

In the middle of Washington Square, the Vagabond stands under the warm bath of the sun shining through his silky strands of hair swirling and swinging upon the saggy shirts swaying on his shoulders. The singing strings synchronize with the swarming mass, standing or striding in solitude, letting the songs of serenity seeth through their souls, showering in the sanguine symphony. Peace and Freedom, the two words echo, while children’s laughter accompanies the pigeons flying across the sky.