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Noemia Kazue Ishikawa: The Shining Ground

Interview
Amazonas
Brazil
Fungi
Immediacy
Indigenous
Japan
knowledge
Metaphors
Nature
Noemia Kazue Ishikawa
Science
Shiitake
Translation

Mycologist Noemia Kazue Ishikawa researches mushrooms native to the Brazilian Amazon. Her genetic analysis of their common ancestor has provided insights into the evolutionary history of fungi. Ishikawa is also part of Pro Helvetia’s long-term project “Fungi Cosmology,” which is dedicated to a transdisciplinary dialogue between the arts and sciences. The project intertwines current discourses and debates prevalent in both fields to better understand our surroundings and to foster not only mutual but also collaborative learning. The following conversation between the artist Shuyi Cao and Ishikawa provides an example of this. Their discussion is published as part of our focal topic “Immediacy.” It touches on the importance of incorporating indigenous knowledge and practices into scientific frameworks; the value of metaphors in communicating ideas across cultures; and the questioning of current practices to find more sustainable ways to treat our planet. 

Text Shuyi Cao
Images provided by Shuyi Cao & Noemia Kazue Ishikawa

SHUYI CAO Lentinula edodes, commonly known as the shiitake mushroom, is a highly commercialized and well-researched species. Your maternal grandfather Nobuo Komagome is one of the pioneers in introducing the cultivation of shiitake mushrooms to Brazil. How have these early experiences working led you to this life-long dedication to fungi? 

NOEMIA KAZUE ISHIKAWA As a child I assisted my grandfather Nobuo, an immigrant to Brazil in 1932, in cultivating delicious mushrooms. Inspired by his passion, I began to study Shiitake cultivation at university. In 1994 I attended a congress and met Professor Warwick Kerr, who introduced me to the Yanomami people in the Amazon and their consumption of various mushrooms. After obtaining a Master’s degree and a PhD in natural resources, I ventured into the world of Amazonian ethnomycology and began my journey of discovering edible mushrooms unique to the Amazon.

My grandfather taught me that pioneering work requires stubbornness. Remembering this lesson, I remain dedicated to cultivating Amazonian Lentinula species, working together with Dr. Ruby Vargas Isla.

Illustration by Shuyi Cao

SC You have been studying mushrooms of the same genus as shiitake that are native to the Brazilian Amazon. Genetic analysis of its common ancestor dates back to nearly 30 million years ago. These biogeographic hypotheses reveal the evolutionary time of this species beyond our known anthropocentric timeframe. How do we understand “time” from the perspective of fungi? What can these studies tell us about the origin stories of fungi and people? 

NKI Regarding shiitake mushrooms, their edibility was first recorded in 199 CE, with cultivation records dating back to 1000-1100 CE. In 1877 the species was scientifically described and named Agaricus edodes Berk. The name “edodes” refers to Edo, the ancient name for Tokyo. In 1975 the name was changed to Lentinula edodes (Berk.) Pegler. From the fungi’s perspective, the ancestors of fungi emerged one billion years ago, and the ancestors of the Lentinula genus emerged about 28.4 million years ago.

Studies suggest that mushrooms suitable for human consumption have been highly valued since the emergence of writing and that they were selected, cultivated, researched, and distributed worldwide due to their economic value. However, this is a recent phenomenon compared to the long history of the species evolution in the world. It’s important to note that Indigenous peoples like the Yanomami have inhabited these lands for over 12,000 years. While their ethno-mycological knowledge hasn’t been recorded in writing, it has been passed down orally through generations. The absence of written records doesn’t negate the existence of this valuable knowledge.

Each encounter is like visiting a “living museum” that exists only in that moment.

SC For the past three years I’ve incorporated mycelia as case studies in the sustainable design courses I teach in universities. Among one of the most popular “biomaterials” mushrooms and fungi are frequently portrayed as the pioneers of innovation, with their applications ranging from the development of various bioproducts such as vegan leather and pharmaceuticals to their potential in bioremediation. This prevailing rhetoric markets mushrooms and fungi as if they were emerging novel materials (such as “the new plastic”) and promotes their widespread commercialization.  

I’m fascinated by the deep connection between fungi and our planet, which predates human, mammalian, and plant life on land. Given your experiences collaborating with local indigenous communities in Amazonia, who have a long-standing relationship with mushrooms, what aspects of ancestral practices concerning fungi and their connection to people require attention in your opinion?

NKI Contemplating fungi is a unique privilege; it allows us to appreciate their various shapes, colors, sizes, and smells. Each encounter is like visiting a “living museum” that exists only in that moment. 

Our team has dedicated time to promoting knowledge of fungi through mycotourism: taking visitors on walks through the forest to encounter these organisms much like one would visit a museum to appreciate works of art. We observe how a delicate Mycena mushroom seen in the morning may appear different by the afternoon, or how an old Ganoderma mushroom reveals the many growth lines that indicate its longevity. Gasteroid fungi, with their unique mushroom designs, charm humans with their shapes, yet repel them with their pungent odor, which effectively attracts insects. Luminescent fungi provide a mesmerizing sight as they glow on the forest floor, creating an impression of the sky at our feet. 

Illustration by Shuyi Cao

After spending 19 years in the Amazon – and in spite of my awareness of the modern and sophisticated nature of biomaterials, pharmacological solutions, and alternative food searches – I find the indigenous perspective of viewing the forest as a whole to be truly sophisticated. Animals, plants, fungi, humans, and invisible beings are all included in this holistic view. It is a vision that respects and appreciates the interconnectedness of all living things and acknowledges the vital role that fungi play in sustaining life on this planet.

This perspective is reflected in the ancestral practice as the collective innovation of using fungus threads in basket weaving among Yanomami women. Yanomami women are sensational artists, utilizing a diverse range of materials for their basket weaving, including a fungus that looks like a plastic thread. It is a new species of fungus known as Marasmius yanomami J.S. Oliveira and N.K. Ishikawa, which I helped discover, to my great joy. The baskets they create are truly remarkable, demonstrating a deep understanding of the biology and ecology of vines, plant shells, barks, natural dyes, and the strands of fungi. 

SC As an internationally trained scientist you have served and collaborated with various academic institutions on mycology research. How do you navigate between institutional sciences and community sciences – native sciences and traditional knowledge that predate colonialism and modern sciences? 

NKI To address this question I will refer to the following schema:

“Etymology of Science” schema by Noemia Kazue Ishikawa, illustrated by Shuyi Cao

In the scientific world there are three types of knowledge: (1) the knowledge that we know we know, which is finite and has a limit; (2) the knowledge that we know we don’t know, which is also finite and has an end; and (3) the knowledge that we don’t know we don’t know, which is infinite and incalculable.

The mistake that many people make is to assume that science is the only source of knowledge and overlook the knowledge passed down through oral traditions. As you may already have noticed, I like writing chronicles, and your question reminded me of an online chronicle writing workshop I participated in. In one of the classes my teacher classified my writing as “memorial chronicles,” which made me happy and proud. But my colleagues, who were more focused on fiction, criticized my character “Noemia” for being “poorly invented.” They argued that it was impossible for the same person to move between such different universes of knowledge. This made me laugh because the stories were true, and they were mine! 

The mistake that many people make is to assume that science is the only source of knowledge […]

SC I really enjoyed reading the collection of autobiographical stories you shared with me. “Noemia” took me on such a wondrous journey traversing various spaces and times. They are stories full of worlds of human and more-than-human people of many kinds, and these worlds are interwoven as a constellation of unexpected encounters, just like the ways a mycelium network connects everything. 

As a scientist who takes an interest in writing and storytelling and who works across cultures and languages, what’s your insight into the role of metaphors and analogies, which come laced with human stories and values, in the explanation of scientific ideas?

NKI I believe that metaphors and analogies are crucial in facilitating communication between different cultures. Davi Kopenawa Yanomami’s description of the Earth’s formation reminds me of the description of the “Continental Drift Theory.” While teaching my student Peieku Kuikuro I also noticed similarities between the transformations of animals in their narratives and the concept of a phylogenetic tree of life. I often use metaphors and analogies when teaching in indigenous communities, which is well-received by the young people; however, the elders soon ask for the floor and offer their explanations in their own language using their own metaphors and analogies, which I may not understand. The most important thing is that young people are listening to both versions. 

Illustration by Shuyi Cao

SC I think the exchanges of metaphors and analogies between cultures can be very helpful in identifying the blind spots of our worldviews. Going back to what you said about the unknown – I particularly love the story about your experience of finding glowing mushrooms deep in the night forest while visiting a Baniwa family in the Amazon. After turning off all flashlights and waiting 10 minutes in the dark, you started to see the shimmering leaves and fungi under your feet. Aldevan, a Baniwa native and the guide, jokingly remarked, “You scientists should know that not everything you seek you find by shining a light on it.” This story struck me and had me thinking about how sometimes scientific investigations presumptuously shed light on certain areas or filter through particular lenses while excluding other possibilities. 

It also reminds me of a conversation in the scientific documentary The Most Unknown (2018) between dark matter physicist Davide D’Angelo and microbiologist Jennifer Macalady, who explores the origin of life on Earth underground. Macalady says, “We think all life, all of the 30 trillion species have descended from a common ancestor. And that means it’s easy for us to see them because we know what to look for. But if there were another ancestor, we wouldn’t be able to see it because we don’t know what to look for.” 

I think it is crucial to have the bravery to turn away from the confined knowing and walk into the darkness of the unknown, especially amidst this tumultuous time of uncertainties. I would like to hear more about your thoughts on how indigenous cosmologies and alternative ways of knowing can inform restrictive scientific frameworks. 

NKI I find the notion of being unable to search for the unknown, which I briefly touched upon in my previous answer, quite fascinating. While exploring life in the subterranean depths of the Earth, the oceans, the moon, and other planets is considered advanced, I cannot comprehend why so many financial and human resources are dedicated to such searches, while biodiversity, peoples, languages, and everything that is right in front of us is not given the same priority for protection and understanding.

In this sense, Aldevan Baniwa taught us that by simply turning off the lights we can witness a universe of unknown beings that shine day and night, but we can only see them by eliminating the greater light, be it sunlight or lanterns. 

Indigenous cosmology, in my opinion, is one of the most intriguing and interesting topics to discuss, and I love listening to it. Unfortunately fungi are seldom mentioned in cosmological narratives. Unlike native peoples in Mexico, for example, I have yet to encounter any individuals in the Brazilian Amazon who use hallucinogenic mushrooms for the rituals that lead to the creation of cosmological narratives.

Images from Përisi (Marasmius yanomami) – the fungus that the Yanomami women use in their basketwork, J.S. Oliveira & N.K. Ishikawa 2019

SC In our previous video call you mentioned that Yanomami women possess extensive knowledge of fungi and plant life due to their daily practices; however, female mycologists outside of indigenous communities often do not receive the same level of respect and credibility as their male colleagues. The scientific community has historically been male-dominated, and even in cases where women have held a dominant position, their contributions were often ignored because of their gender. What has been your experience working in this field as a female scientist? Have you observed any cultural or systemic changes that address gender inequality over the past decade?

NKI Unfortunately gender inequality is still prevalent today, and I have faced similar difficulties as many other women in the field. I have observed that some individuals from my generation and older have internalized chronic sexism, and I am not counting on them to change. However, I have noticed that the younger generation understand and practice equality naturally, and I enjoy working with them. 

Despite having faced many challenging experiences, I draw strength from the women who came before me, those I admire in my community, and those who have overcome even greater difficulties. I have been involved in several projects that support women’s economic empowerment, such as the basketry project for Yanomami women, where the income from selling baskets has improved their lives. Together with anthropologists Dr. Rosi Waikhon (Piratapuia Indian) and Dr. Ana Carla Bruno, I also coordinate a project called “Networks of indigenous women translators and scientists: connections for a transforming science education in the Amazon.” This project came from the observation that men were often hired as indigenous language translators, given credit for the translations and received payment, even though women were the ones who actually knew the language and did the translation work. We started this project to empower women as the protagonists of language translation, ensuring that they receive payment for their work. 

“Ohi” to refer to carbohydrate hunger and “Naki” for protein hunger.

SC Speaking of translation, Robin Wall Kimmerer, a trained biologist and a member of the Potawatomi Nation, reflected on how Western scientific discourse has a tendency to define the boundaries of existing knowledge from the perspective of language. She pointed out that the disconnection between the technical vocabulary in Western science and the unnamed mystery of life and its unseen energies is built into the English language.[1]

Adopting this position, do you, as an author of scientific narrative books published in Portuguese, Japanese, English and Nheengatu, believe that there are interesting attributes of fungal life or our interconnectedness with fungi that are so entangled with Indigenous languages that they are lost in translation? 

NKI The most interesting attribute I learned about from the Yanomami is that they have two words to refer to hunger: “Ohi” to refer to carbohydrate hunger and “Naki” for protein hunger. Differentiating between carbohydrate hunger and protein hunger was already surprising because in the languages I know there are not two words, and I don’t even know how to differentiate between those when I feel hungry. What was even more unexpected was that the Yanomami consider mushrooms to be a source of protein that can satisfy their “Naki” hunger, in addition to hunting and fishing.

In Western science mushrooms have for centuries been studied as vegetables, and only in recent decades have fungi been accepted into a kingdom separate from the plant kingdom. And with the new advancements of molecular analysis the fungi kingdom is classified in the same super kingdom Opisthokonta along with the animal kingdom. It is remarkable that the Yanomami were already aware of this distinction without any knowledge of molecular biology.

Leaves colonized by bioluminescent fungi in the Amazon Forest, photographed by Rafael Estrela

SC That’s so interesting. It also highlights the significance of acknowledging orality as a form of knowledge that not only contains the unfathomable mysteries of life but also embodies experience that may inform contemporary scientific research. Language can raise thought-provoking questions and shed light on the values and priorities of different cultures. You previously explained to me that in the Japanese language the term for fungus (“菌”) sounds similar to the word for gold/money (“金”), both of which are pronounced as “kin.” This led you to ask: “Why is kin (gold) more valuable than kin (fungus)?” Can you expand on this idea and its connection to your involvement in activism aimed at combating the unlawful gold mining that endangers the well-being and livelihoods of the Yanomami people and their land? 

NKI While preparing for a lecture in Tokyo I noticed this pronunciation correlation, and it reminded me of a conversation with Davi Kopenawa Yanomami. He questioned why non-indigenous people are so obsessed with gold and willing to destroy forests and harm indigenous communities for it. I came across this website showing the extensive amount of already mined gold, leaving me confused about why we continue to harm nature and indigenous communities for more gold. While I hoped to tell Kopenawa that gold is important for medicine and technology, I discovered that this only accounts for less than 10% of total gold mining. Furthermore, there is already a vast amount of gold stored in bank vaults, making their owners and countries wealthy simply by possessing it. Meanwhile, people like the Yanomami suffer from the consequences of mercury contamination caused by gold mining, including sickness and starvation. The situation is so dire that young women are forced to sell their bodies to miners for food. [2]

Another list I started to follow was the list of the richest countries in the world, which includes the countries with the highest gold reserves. While some of these countries acknowledge the problem of mining in the Amazon and offer financial assistance to protect it, they continue to purchase and hoard large amounts of gold, contributing to its profitability and perpetuating the problem. Davi Kopenawa himself enlightened me about the link between my research on fungi and the well-being and survival of the Yanomami people and their land. He explained to me that while he discourages young people from going to mining camps, he also needs to offer them alternatives. This is where the edible mushroom and basketry projects that I am involved in come in as important sources of income for the youth. That’s why I started saying that I’m fighting “kin” gold using “kin” fungus after realizing the coincidence of the pronunciation of “fungus” and “gold” in Japanese. Indigenous peoples are the best protectors of forests because they consider them home, as well as the home of fungi. 

Together with my indigenous friends I still don’t understand why gold/money (“金”), a shiny and immutable metal, which cannot be eaten, drunk or used for clothing, is worth more than fungi (“菌”), which were generated by hundreds of millions of years of evolution, and can feed, serve as a drink, can be used for clothing, heal, and enchant by their natural beauty and luminescence.

Footnotes

[1] Kimmerer, Robin. Braiding sweetgrass: Indigenous wisdom, scientific knowledge and the teachings of plants

[2] https://sumauma.com/en/nossas-vidas-acabaram-sexo-por-ouro-alcoolismo-e-doencas-as-aldeias-yanomami-destruidas-pelo-garimpo

Text Shuyi Cao
Images provided by Shuyi Cao & Noemia Kazue Ishikawa
Interview
Amazonas
Brazil
Fungi
Immediacy
Indigenous
Japan
knowledge
Metaphors
Nature
Noemia Kazue Ishikawa
Science
Shiitake
Translation
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