I was created by artist Robert Kataoka from roadside seedlings he collected near Echo Park, Colorado in 1960. About 80 small trees had been collected over a period of three weekends, of which 47 were selected to plant on a sandstone slab. Mr. Kataoka titled me “Ronin” in reference to the Japanese legend of the 47 Ronin, or samurai without a master. In the legend, the samurai’s beloved master was unjustly forced by an evil royal official to commit seppuku (ritual suicide). The Ronin avenged their master’s death with the certain knowledge that they would themselves be executed. The legend and this bonsai celebrate dedication, courage, and loyalty in the face of death. My trees, like the Ronin of legend, have succumbed, too; mine from wooly adelgid, turning my forest into a grove. Yet my beauty and courage persevere!

I am an old and wise Japanese Beech bonsai. While I am a deciduous tree, I don’t drop my leaves in autumn but rather I hold on tight to my beautiful rust-brown foliage until spring to protect my new leaf buds. I have smooth, white bark, a perfect tapering trunk, intricate branching, and impeccable design that make me one of the finest Japanese beech bonsai in North America.

I was a big bonsai even on the day they brought me to San Francisco to show me off at the 1915 Panama Pacific Expo. But when my adopted family, the Domotos, were forced to leave me on my own during WWII, I tried to bust out of my container to find them. I reached down into the ground and grew even bigger. Now, I will forever know that boundless feeling.

I came to be because the artist Bob Laws decided to follow John Naka’s advice to air layer an old apple tree growing on Mr. Law’s property. The technique worked so well that I developed a wise and rugged old character early in my life. In 2021, Nao Tokutake made me a new pot that was “apple to the max.” He mimicked one of my apple’s profiles in the pot shape and used some apple wood ash in the glaze. For the first time on record, Curator Aarin Packard helped my blossoms get pollinated so I could make a bunch of tasty, crisp apples in 2023. Life is sweet!