Tuesday, March 10, 2015

A00013 - Eugenie Clark, Scholar of the Life Aquatic

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Eugenie Clark examines deep water sharks from Suruga Bay, Japan, in 1980. CreditDavid Doubilet
Eugenie Clark, whose childhood rapture with fish in a New York City aquarium led to a life of scholarly adventure in the littorals and depths of the Seven Seas and to a global reputation as a marine biologist and expert on sharks, died on Wednesday at her home in Sarasota, Fla. She was 92.
The cause was lung cancer, her son Nikolas Konstantinou said.
Long before “Jaws” scared the wits out of swimmers, Dr. Clark rode a 40-foot whale shark off Baja California, ran into killer great white sharks while scuba diving in Hawaii, studied “sleeping” sharks in undersea caves off the Yucatán, witnessed a shark’s birth and found a rare six-gill shark in a submersible dive off Bermuda.
She also swam into schools of man-eating barracuda and had disconcerting encounters with 500-pound clams and giant squid. Despite close calls, she was never attacked, and she tended to make light of the dangers. Indeed, she told of the privileges of exploring an undersea world of exotic creatures and enchanting beauty.
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Eugenie Clark in 1951. CreditThe American Museum of Natural History
Dr. Clark was an ichthyologist and oceanographer whose academic credentials, teaching and research posts, scientific activities and honors filled a 20-page curriculum vitae, topped by longtime roles as a professor at the University of Maryland and director of the Mote Marine Laboratory in Sarasota.
She also wrote three books, 80 scientific treatises and more than 70 articles and professional papers; lectured at 60 American universities and in 19 countries abroad; appeared in 50 television specials and documentaries; was the subject of many biographies and profiles; made intriguing scientific discoveries; and had four species of fish named for her.
For all her scientific achievements, Dr. Clark was also a figure of popular culture who used her books, lectures and expertise to promote the preservation of ecologically fragile shorelines, to oppose commercial exploitation of endangered species and to counteract misconceptions, especially about sharks.
She insisted that “Jaws,” the 1975 Steven Spielberg film based on a Peter Benchley novel, and its sequels inspired unreasonable fears of sharks as ferocious killers. Car accidents are far more numerous and terrible than shark attacks, she said in a 1982 PBS documentary, “The Sharks.”
She said at the time that only about 50 shark attacks on humans were reported annually and that only 10 were fatal, and that the great white shark portrayed in “Jaws” would attack only if provoked, while most of the world’s 350 shark species were not dangerous to people at all.
“When you see a shark underwater,” she said, “you should say, ‘How lucky I am to see this beautiful animal in his environment.’ ”
Ms. Clark was born in New York City on May 4, 1922, to Charles Clark and the former Yumico Mitomi. Her father died when she was 2. Her mother worked in Lower Manhattan, and when the girl was 9 she began leaving her on Saturday mornings at an aquarium near the Battery. Fascinated, Eugenie persuaded her mother to buy her a 15-gallon tank and kept fish, toads, snakes and a small alligator at home.
She graduated from Bryant High School in Queens and Hunter College, where she majored in zoology, and earned a master’s degree at New York University.
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Over the years, Dr. Clark made more than 70 deep dives in submersibles, once to 12,000 feet. CreditTak Konstantinou
After doing research at the University of California’s Scripps Institution of Oceanography, she was a research assistant at the Museum of Natural History in New York and returned to N.Y.U., where she earned a doctorate in 1950, focusing on fish reproduction.
Further marine biology studies in Massachusetts and the West Indies led to a published paper on the visual abilities of fish. In 1949, the Navy sent her to the South Seas to study poisonous fish. Taught by Palau Islanders to spear fish underwater, she collected hundreds of specimens. A year later she collected 300 species of fish from the Red Sea, three of them new to science.
Dr. Clark was married five times. She and her second husband, Dr. Ilias Konstantinu, an orthopedic surgeon, had four children — Hera, Aya, Themistokles and Nikolas — and were divorced in 1967. They survive her, as does one grandson.
Her first book, “Lady With a Spear,” was published in 1953. In it, she told of fish that variously inflated themselves to incredible dimensions, stood on their heads to show masculinity, advertised themselves with yellow lipstick, grunted like pigs, stung with deadly effect, and had two sets of eyes — to see in and out of water.
From 1955 to 1967, Dr. Clark was the founding director of the Cape Haze Marine Laboratory in Florida, which became the Mote Marine Laboratory and in 1978 was moved to City Island in Sarasota. She resumed work with the lab as a consultant in 1986 and later became its director emeritus.
In 1968 she joined the University of Maryland, where she became a full professor and senior research scientist, taught for decades and became professor emeritus in 1992. She received many honorary degrees and awards.
Her second book, “The Lady and the Sharks” (1969), explored the behavior and physiology of sharks and other marine life and her experiences as a diver, biologist and teacher. With Ann McGovern, a biographer of Dr. Clark, she also wrote “Desert Benealth the Sea” (1991).
Over the years, Dr. Clark made more than 70 deep dives in submersibles, once to 12,000 feet. She found whale sharks, the world’s largest fish, 3,200 feet down, and sharks with six pairs of gills (most have five pairs) in the deep sea off Bermuda. She developed a shark repellent from an exudate of flatfish called the Red Sea Moses sole and taught sharks, once thought to be untrainable, to perform whole sequences of tasks.
“Sharks are among the most perfectly constructed creatures in nature,” she said. “Some forms have survived for two hundred million years.”
In 2004, after Dr. Clark injured her Achilles’ heel in a dive, doctors discovered she had lung cancer. She stopped diving temporarily, but the cancer went into remission. In 2009, she celebrated her 87th birthday in a submersible 900 feet under the surface of Lake Tahoe. She did it again when she turned 88.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

A00012 - Yutaka Katayama, Father of the Datsun "Z"

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Yutaka Katayama speaks during an interview at his office in Tokyo in this July 2002 photo.CreditTsugufumi Matsumoto/Associated Press
To judge from the public frenzy it aroused, the “Z” might well have stood for “Zowie!”
The 240Z, a sleek two-door sports car that made its United States debut in 1969, unleashed an acquisitive tempest. In the process, it proved that a Japanese automaker — Nissan, or Datsun, as the brand was then known here — could succeed in this country.
Yutaka Katayama, a retired Nissan executive who died on Feb. 19 at 105, was widely considered the father of the Z. By dint of promoting it here, he was credited with almost single-handedly establishing Nissan’s secure foothold in the United States.
With the Z, “Datsun would change the auto industry’s perception of Japanese cars,” The New York Times wrote in 2008.
An ebullient, adventurous man familiarly known as Mr. K., Mr. Katayama was the first president of Nissan Motor Corporation U.S.A. He arrived here in 1960, a time when the label “Made in Japan” on any consumer product was associated in the American mind with slipshod construction.
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The 1971 Datsun 240Z, which helped Nissan build a nationwide network of dealers in the United States. CreditNissan Motor Co.
By the time he retired in 1977, Mr. Katayama had built a nationwide network of dealers and promoted two highly successful models: the Datsun 510 sedan, first marketed here in 1967, followed by the dazzling Z.
His work is chronicled in “The Reckoning,” David Halberstam’s 1986 book about the auto industry.
The son of a well-to-do businessman, Mr. Katayama was born Yutaka Asoh in the Shizuoka Prefecture, on Japan’s south coast, on Sept. 15, 1909. (On his marriage in the 1930s to Masako Katayama, whose family had no sons, he took her surname.) In 1935, after graduating from Keio University, the young Mr. Katayama joined Nissan, working in its advertising and publicity departments.
In a time and place when corporate culture mandated conformity, Mr. Katayama’s maverick approach to business often antagonized his superiors. In 1960, seeking to punish him, Nissan executives transferred him to the worst Siberia they knew: Southern California.
Placed in charge of Nissan’s Western United States operations, Mr. Katayama had the onus of building the Datsun brand there, and, as he later made clear in interviews, the company fully expected him to fail. Datsun was then selling about 1,000 vehicles a year in the entire country.
Running his office from an old Mobil Oil building in downtown Los Angeles, and given an advertising budget of $1,000, Mr. Katayama began courting prospective dealers. “Everyone in this room will become a millionaire one day,” he would tell them, and indeed, many did.
For Mr. Katayama, California culture proved companionable. He adored driving — fast — and before long, Halberstam reported, “it was said of Katayama that he had more speeding tickets than anyone else in town.” In the mid-1960s, after Nissan merged its East and West Coast offices, he was put in charge of operations for the United States as a whole.
Mr. Katayama’s first great success came with the Datsun 510, a small, fleet sedan that, at about $1,800, was seen as a less expensive alternative to the BMW 1600. Then came the Z, that soon-to-be-ubiquitous object of desire designed by Yoshihiko Matsuo.
A two-seater, the 1970 Datsun 240Z went on sale in the United States in the fall of 1969. Consumers rhapsodized over its elegant lines, lightness, agility and $3,500 price tag — roughly $22,000 today. Datsun was soon turning out 4,000 Zs a month, a volume routinely outstripped by the demand.
“It was a car that anybody could drive easily and that would give the driver that incredible feeling of jubilation that comes when car and driver are as one,” Mr. Katayama said in a company oral history.
Later Z-series models included the 260 and 280. The company retired the line in the United States toward the end of the 20th century but later revived it; the 2015 model, the Nissan 370Z, sells for about $30,000 to $50,000.
After leaving Nissan, Mr. Katayama returned to Japan, where he drove contentedly until nearly the end of his life. His death, in a Tokyo hospital, was confirmed by his family to The Associated Press.
Mr. Katayama’s survivors include his wife; two sons; two daughters; 11 grandchildren; and 18 great-grandchildren.
Perhaps the greatest boost Mr. Katayama gave the 240Z was its very name, which Nissan had intended only as a working model number. In the late 1960s, when the car was first introduced in Japan, a Nissan executive, enamored of a certain Lerner and Loewe musical, named it the Fairlady Z.
When the first shipment of Fairlady Zs arrived in the United States, Mr. Katayama, judging the sobriquet horrifyingly effete for the American market, stripped the nameplate off each car with his own hands.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

A00011 - Kenji Ekuan, Industrial Designer Who Created Soy Sauce Bottle

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Kenji Ekuan, the Japanese industrial designer, in Tokyo in June 2004.CreditJiji Press/Agence France-Presse — Getty Images
TOKYO — Kenji Ekuan, a Japanese industrial designer whose instantly recognizable soy sauce bottle — red-capped and elegantly teardrop-shaped — became one of his country’s most ubiquitous postwar exports, died here on Sunday. He was 85.
His death, of heart failure, was confirmed by GK Design Group, which Mr. Ekuan helped found in the 1950s and continued to lead as chairman. He had a form of arrhythmia and had been hospitalized since early this month.
Mr. Ekuan was a prolific and widely lauded designer whose work shaped products closely associated with modern Japan, including Yamaha motorcycles and a bullet train used in the country’s Shinkansen high-speed rail network.
He was also an evangelist for a potent national ethos, combining pacifism and materialism, which Japanembraced after the devastation of World War II. He had witnessed the war’s effects firsthand as a teenager, in his family’s hometown, Hiroshima, days after its destruction by an atomic bomb.
“Faced with that nothingness, I felt a great nostalgia for human culture,” he told The New York Times in 2012.
“I needed something to touch, to look at,” he added. “Right then I decided to be a maker of things.”
Mr. Ekuan had been away at naval college when the bomb struck, but a younger sister was killed. His father, a Buddhist priest who oversaw a temple in the city, died a year later of a radiation-related illness. Mr. Ekuan briefly trained for the priesthood before committing to the world of design.
He retained a philosophical view of his work, however, and of the role of design in general. “The path of Buddha is the path to salvation for all living things, but I realized that, for me, the path to salvation lay in objects,” he wrote in a serialized memoir published in the Japanese daily Nihon Keizai Shimbun in 2002. “Objects have their own world. Making an object means imbuing it with its own spirit.”
Mr. Ekuan’s aesthetic drew on classical Japanese forms as well as Western influences. His family owned a well-known Buddhist painting depicting heaven and hell, which it displayed at the temple in Hiroshima just one day a year. It was destroyed by the bomb along with the temple, but it remained “one of my design ideals,” Mr. Ekuan wrote in his memoir.
He also read “Blondie” comics and admired American inventiveness. The G.I.s in Japan after the war, with their Jeeps and pressed gabardine trousers, were like a “moving exhibition,” he told The Times. At the National University of Fine Arts and Music in Tokyo, where he enrolled in 1950, he encouraged his fellow students to give shape to a contemporary “Japanese lifestyle.”
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Besides the soy sauce bottle, Mr. Ekuan's work shaped products closely associated with modern Japan, like Yamaha motorcycles. CreditYamaha
Mr. Ekuan won the soy sauce contract, from the Kikkoman Corporation, while still in his 20s. It took him three years and 100 prototypes to come up with a final design for his dispenser, which combined a gracefully curving form with an innovative, dripless spout. More than 300 million of the bottles have been sold.
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A bottle of Kikkoman soy sauce.
Mr. Ekuan’s contribution to the bullet train network was a lean, long-nosed version called the Komachi, which began running on the northern Akita Shinkansen branch line in 1997. He also designed the Narita Express shuttle trains that ferry passengers between Tokyo and Narita International Airport.
Mr. Ekuan often worked with advanced technology, but he disliked futurism for its own sake. “When we think of the evolution of design, we might imagine a world where robots are everywhere, but that’s not it,” he told Cinra.net, an online design magazine, in 2013. “The ultimate design is little different from the natural world.”
Kenji Ekuan was born on Sept. 11, 1929, in Tokyo. When he was a year old, he moved with his family to Hawaii, where his father worked as a Buddhist missionary. They returned to Japan when Kenji was 7. He is survived by a brother and a sister.

Monday, February 16, 2015

A00010 - Anita Darian, Singer With An Eclectic Range

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Anita Darian in 1962.CreditDon Hunstein/Sony Music Entertainment
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For the singer Anita Darian, getting to Carnegie Hall not only took practice; it also took a kazoo.
Her versatile voice carried her there in 1960, where she sang and played kazoo with the New York Philharmonic under Leonard Bernstein’s baton. But Ms. Darian reached far more listeners with her keening, uncredited background singing on the Tokens’ 1961 hit “The Lion Sleeps Tonight.”
She died on Feb. 1 at 87 in Oceanside, N.Y. Lynda Wells, a longtime friend and an executor of her estate, said the cause was complications after intestinal surgery.
Ms. Darian was a session singer and stage performer when she was asked by the producers Hugo Peretti and Luigi Creatore and the songwriter George David Weiss to provide backing vocals for “The Lion Sleeps Tonight,” which Mr. Weiss had adapted from a South African song.
Ms. Darian’s high-pitched vocal — at one point soaring over the lines “In the jungle,/ the mighty jungle/ The lion sleeps tonight” — provided a memorable counterpoint to the lead vocal and the harmonized lower-register refrain “A-wimoweh-a-wimoweh.” The record spent three weeks atop the Billboard pop chart.
Ms. Darian also sang behind Mickey & Sylvia on their 1957 hit “Love Is Strange” and recorded with Burt Bacharach, Dinah Washington, Patti Page and others, usually without credit and often emulating the eerie sound of a theremin.
Her talents were more frequently acknowledged onstage. She made her Carnegie Hall debut performing Mark Bucci’s “Concerto for Kazoo and Orchestra” as part of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra’s Young People’s Concerts program. (The concert was broadcast on CBS.)
A City Center regular, Ms. Darian performed Natalie in Strauss’s “Die Fledermaus” and Pitti-Sing in Gilbert and Sullivan’s “The Mikado” there in 1959, and played Julie in “Show Boat” in 1961. She also played Lady Thiang in several different City Center productions of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s “The King and I.”
“As the King’s head wife, Anita Darian sings ‘Something Wonderful’ with a patience, belief and clarity that are wonderful in their own right,” the New York Times critic Brooks Atkinson wrote in a review of a 1960 City Center production that starred Farley Granger and Barbara Cook.
She was born Anita Margaret Esgandarian in Detroit on April 26, 1927, to Anna and Garo Esgandarian, Armenian immigrants. She shortened her name when she went into show business. She graduated from Cooley High School in Detroit and the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia and later studied at the Juilliard School.
Ms. Darian lived in East Atlantic Beach on Long Island. Varham Fantazian, a cousin and co-executor of her estate, said that no immediate family members survive.

Friday, February 13, 2015

A00009 - R. K. Laxman, Cartoonist Who Amused India for Decades

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R.K. Laxman in an undated photo. His character, the Common Man, is pictured behind him in a checkered shirt.CreditPress Trust of India, via Associated Press
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R. K. Laxman, a fixture of Indian society whose satirical comic strip featuring a character he called the Common Man appeared daily on the front page of The Times of India for more than five decades, died on Jan. 26 in the western Indian city of Pune. He was 93.
 His death was confirmed by his son, Srinivas.
 The Common Man was the star of “You Said It,” which Mr. Laxman created in 1951. Wearing a dhoti and a checkered coat, with a bushy mustache, a few wisps of hair, a bulbous nose on which perched a pair of glasses, and thick eyebrows that were permanently raised, the Common Man observed the contradictions, ironies and paradoxes of the world around him with a bewildered look but without ever uttering a word. 
 Political hypocrisy was Mr. Laxman’s favorite target. The Indian National Congress Party bore the brunt of his satire over the years because it was in power longer than any other party, but he spared no leader, however powerful.
“I am grateful to my leaders for keeping my profession flourishing,” he once remarked. “Alarmingly, the politicians walk, talk and behave as though they were modeling perpetually for the cartoonist.”
Rasipuram Krishnaswamy Iyer Laxman was born in the state of Mysore on Oct. 24, 1921. His father was a headmaster, his mother a homemaker. He had a sister and six brothers, one of whom, R. K. Narayan, went on to become a leading novelist and short-story writer.
“I do not remember wanting to do anything else except draw,” Mr. Laxman wrote in his autobiography, “The Tunnel of Time” (1998). He drew with chalk on the floors, walls and doors of his house and, when he learned to wield a pen and pencil, added beards, mustaches and shaggy eyebrows to photographs and sketches in books and magazines. At school, he drew caricatures of his teachers, who, instead of chiding him, encouraged his talent.
While studying at the University of Mysore, where he obtained a bachelor’s degree in philosophy, political science and economics, he began contributing political cartoons to various publications. His first full-time job was withThe Free Press Journal in Mumbai. Six months later he joined The Times of India.
His marriage to the dancer and actress Kumari Kamala ended in divorce. In addition to his son, his survivors include his wife, Kamala Laxman, a writer of children’s stories.
Mr. Laxman also wrote short stories, essays and travel pieces, as well as the novels “The Hotel Riviera” (1988) and “The Messenger” (1993) and his autobiography. 
 In 2005, he received the Padma Vibhushan, India’s second-highest civilian award. Among his other honors is a statue of the Common Man in Pune.