Kabuki at the Met

We're now in the Year of the Tiger, and when I visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art today, they naturally had an exhibit on tigers in art. I was much more interested, however, in some works featuring kabuki performances in their rotating exhibition "Japan: A History of Style."

The Met owns a rare screen that shows a performance from kabuki's early days, when it was only women who performed roles on stage. Though the theatrical style of kabuki was invented by Okuni and pioneered by her fellow priestesses, men later took it over and women were banned from the stage.

In the first panel of the screen, we see audience members approaching, and a street performer is dancing on some mats on the ground. This is likely how kabuki began, with solo performances outdoors, gradually attracting larger and larger crowds. We also see a man beating a drum, providing the musical accompaniment that became crucial to kabuki performances.

The next panel of the screen shows not only people headed for the performance, but vendors selling refreshments. During the early days of kabuki, people ate, drank, and socialized while they watched the play. Food and tea have remained a part of the kabuki experience, which should not be surprising, since lots of theatrical traditions encourage the audience to eat and drink either during the show or during an intermission.

In the following panel, a group of people crowd around a gate, attempting to gain admittance to the outdoor staging area. Though kabuki later moved indoors, during the early years, it was performed outside, but there were sometimes walls erected to control who would or would not be allowed inside. A group of men on the screen seem to be fighting just outside the gate. Are they fighting to get in to see the show? Or have they been ejected from the performance?

Inside the gate, we see the audience. Most people are seated on the ground, and it appears that their focus is not solely on the stage. They eat, drink, and chat while also enjoying the performance. There is also an elevated seating area, something that can be seen in other early depictions of kabuki as well. The people higher up in these box seats appear to be of a higher class, in addition to being literally higher than everyone else. It's also interesting that other audience members are watching from the shade beneath the boxes.

Finally, we get to the stage itself, which thrusts out into the audience, and is surrounded by spectators on three sides. The stage is covered by a roof, as the traditional stage in Noh drama is. The central figure on stage is a woman impersonating a samurai. Ahead of her is a comic servant, Saruwaka, known as Young Monkey. Though the character is a man, a woman would have played this role, too, during the early 17th century. The gents in this play have come to a "tea house" that also doubled as a brothel. These early plays were quite ribald, and they mocked the samurai class, which might have been one of the reasons the government later banned women from performing.

The final panel of the screen shows the bridge leading away from the stage. In Noh drama, the bridge is known as the hashigakari, and it is likewise placed at the back of the stage. Later on, kabuki moved the bridge to the front of the stage, where it extends out over the audience and is known as the hanamichi. I find it interesting to see how the early kabuki stage more closely resembled the Noh stage than it does today. On the Met's screen, you can also see some actors preparing backstage, behind the bridge and its hangings.

If you want to see how the kabuki stage developed later on in the 18th century, the exhibition also includes a woodblock print by Okumura Masanobu showing a kabuki performance from 1748, now indoors and with the hanamichi going across the audience. There are also audience members elevated on the side, as we saw on the earlier screen.

Eventually, kabuki became big business. Here's a print from a bit later, around 1780, showing the theatre district in Edo on the night when the kabuki season opened with the "face-showing" known as the kaomise in which the whole company of actors would be introduced to the audience.

These are only a few of the works you'll see in the exhibition at the Met, which runs until April 24th. It's well worth checking out if you get a chance!

Precious Incense

The kabuki play The Precious Incense and Autumn Flowers of Sendai was originally written by Nagawa Kamesuke, but was adapted as a puppet play, and then adapted back into kabuki. This is why it uses the convention of takemoto, a chanter and shamisen player fully visible onstage and narrating the action, as occurs in the traditional Japanese puppet performance of joruri.

Today, the play is rarely performed in its entirety, but two scenes from its second act are frequently done on their own, and have become a standard of the kabuki repertoire. This is largely due to the character of Masaoka, which is considered one of the most difficult onnagata (female character) roles in kabuki. A nursemaid in charge of a young lord, Tsuruchiyo, Masaoka is forced to watch while her son Senmatsu is stabbed right in front of her by the villain's sister, Yashio. The takemoto describes the action, chanting:

     As she twists the knife,

     the sound of Senmatsu's screams

     is enough to make Masaoka feel the sadness

     even in her own liver,

     but she endures the pain

     for the sake of the young lord

     and doesn't even shed a tear.

This moment has been frequently recorded in visual art. Here's a print of Yashio committing the foul murder:

The horrifying violence is aestheticized onstage, a technique known as zankoku no bi. The audience might be revolted, but the beauty of Masaoka's stoic endurance is at the same time applauded and appreciated. Her virtue and patience are rewarded when she receives a scroll with the names of all the conspirators plotting to overthrow and murder Tsuruchiyo.

Nothing is ever easy in kabuki, and a rat ends up stealing the scroll and running away with it in its mouth. The rat later transforms into the villain sorcerer Danjo, who appears with the scroll in his mouth. You can see a print of him here:

Eventually, good triumphs over evil in the play, but not before there's been plenty of excitement.

Okuni's Screen

The earliest known depiction of Izumo no Okuni, the founder of the theatrical form of kabuki, is on a screen currently owned by the Kyoto National Museum in Japan.

This six-paneled screen, which dates from the 17th century, utilizes gold-leafed paper to create a grand and impressive image.  The screen is nearly three feet high and close to nine feet long. You can see a reduced image of it here:

In the third panel from the left, Okuni herself appears onstage, sporting a sword over her shoulder. She appears to be acting in a scene set in a teahouse (which could also double as a brothel in Okuni's day). Dressed in men's clothes, the founder of kabuki would perform male roles to the delight (and frequently scandal) of the audience. Here's how she appears on the screen:

We have a few first-person accounts of Okuni's performance. Here's one from the early 17th century, as translated by Akemi Horie Webber:

Lately there is a thing called kabuki dance. A shamaness from Izumi province, named O-kuni, came to Kyoto and initiated it. For example, she imitated a man of unusual appearance, carrying a sword and wearing distinctly exotic costume. This man mimicked the gestures of flirtation with a woman of the teahouses. There was no one in the whole of Kyoto, high and low, why did not rave about her performance. She often went up to Fushimi castle and danced there. Soon, there sprouted numerous kabuki troupes that imitated this, and many of them traveled the provinces.

Another written account describes Okuni's character purchasing the services of a courtesan in the teahouse, but  the courtesan acts in a comical manner and is dressed with a colorful scarf over her head. Such a figure, crouching down and holding a fan in front of her face, appears on the screen not far from Okuni.

Part of the reason these performances became popular was that they reflected the uproar society in general was experiencing in Japan during the early 17th century. The country had just been through a period of civil war, which came to a head in 1600 with the Battle of Sekigahara. After that battle, the military leader Tokugawa Ieyasu was able to establish his power, and in 1603, he was named shogun, the de facto ruler of Japan.

The thing is, a lot of people were unhappy with Tokugawa's shogunate. It had risen to power only after fierce conflict, and many samurai remained resentful of the new government. Certain clans had lost power and status, and though they couldn't openly defy the new regime, they mocked the conventions of society as a way to express their displeasure. Okuni's characters reflected the formerly powerful warriors who were now left adrift in Japan.

Audiences, it seems, related to the new style of performance, which unlike Noh, did not use masks and tended to be more secular than religious. Like Noh, however, it relied on music and dance to help tell the story. The screen at the Kyoto National Museum shows musicians playing flutes and drums, though not the shamisen, a stringed instrument that later became popular in kabuki.

The audience members in the screen sit on mats on the ground, watching the performers on the elevated stage. This stage resembles a classic Noh stage more than it does a modern kabuki stage with its hanamichi bridge extending out over the audience. We can see that the audience members are paying attention to the performance, but they are also socializing with one another.

A barrier surrounds the audience, and outside that barrier, we can see what appears to be a refreshment stand, providing people with snacks.

Though we cannot know for sure what it was like to watch Okuni pioneering her new performance style, the screen at least gives us some fascinating hints.

Shibaraku

One of the most enduring kabuki plays ever written is Ichikawa Danjuro's Shibaraku. First performed in 1697, the play remains a favorite today as a "face-showing" production at the start of the season, introducing the audience to the new company of actors for the year.

No doubt the play's large cast makes it attractive for such an event. Also, its over-the-top performance of a heroic, bravura style known as aragoto makes it impressive to watch. Plus it has a remarkable villain, Takehira, who is an evil lord that everyone loves to hate.

The play begins with the footmen of Takehira speaking in a flurry. The evil lord himself then appears on a raised platform. With him is Shinsai, a priest who has long, pigtail-like whiskers that make him look like a catfish. They celebrate the fact that Takehira has subjugated the Eastern provinces and will soon hold absolute power.

Not content with political and military domination, Takehira lusts after the beautiful Katsura, who is already engaged to Yoshitsuna, the son of an important governor. Yoshitsuna tries to report Takehira's foul deeds to the Emperor, but the evil lord stops him from leaving. Just as everything looks hopeless, we hear a cry of "Shibaraku" which is loosely translated at "just a minute" or "wait a moment."

That cry comes from Kagemasa, a hero of superhuman strength. The villains are struck with terror, as they hear the cry again and again. The actor playing Kagemasa then enters wearing an oversized costume that includes clogs to make him taller. He also wears a large wig that adds to his height even more. He has two enormous swords and his face is painted a distinctive red and white.

Takehira sends Shinsai to stop the hero, but the cowardly priest is no match for him. Shinsai tries to get a woman to confront Kagemasa instead. Four samurai reluctantly come forward to fight, but then turn and run. Kagemasa restores Yoshitsuna's inheritance and allows him to marry Katsura. When Takehira's henchmen try to stop him, he cuts off their heads. The play ends with a grand, triumphal exit.

Thoughts on Chikamatsu

Most cultures have some tradition of puppetry, and puppet plays in Japan can be traced back at least to the twelfth century. For much of Japan's history, puppeteers wandered about the country performing at festivals and displaying their skills for any audiences they might find. Originally, these makeshift puppet plays were called joruri. They featured not only skillfully manipulated puppets, but also chanters who would narrate the story and provide all of the voices. One famous chanter, Takemoto Gidayu, opened a theatre dedicated to joruri in Osaka in 1684. Its first production was a new play called The Soga Successors by a playwright named Chikamatsu Monzaemon.

At first, Chikamatsu wrote mainly for the kabuki theatre, providing plays for the star actor Sakata Tojuro. Even before the great actor's death in 1709, however, Chikamatsu began drifting away from kabuki and writing exclusively for puppet theatres. Most kabuki actors were notorious for changing scripts in order to suit themselves, and the style of kabuki lent itself to histrionic performances. Perhaps ironically, puppets were better suited for conveying subtle emotion than the exaggerated and stylized acting in kabuki. More importantly, writers for joruri could count on their words actually being said, rather than having lines cut or completely changed to suit star performers.

Chikamatsu became famous for his love-suicide plays, known as shinju mono. His 1703 play The Love Suicides at Sonezaki was hugely successful and helped to set the standard for the genre. Inspired by true events, the play tells the story of a courtesan named Ohatsu who falls in love with a poor merchant clerk named Tokubei. After Tokubei is swindled and beaten, it appears the unfortunate man will be forced into exile. Rather than live without each other, the couple resolves to commit suicide together.

The most popular of Chikamatsu's plays is The Battles of Coxinga, which originally ran for seventeen months straight. The historical epic tells a story from the twilight of the Ming Dynasty in China. Since Japan was shut off from the outside world during Chikamatsu's day, the Chinese setting would have seemed exotic to audiences. The many spectacles in the play (including a fight with a tiger) seem particularly suited to performance by puppets. Chikamatsu reached back even further into history with his play Fair Ladies at a Game of Poem Cards, which takes place in Japan during the twelfth century.

Many of Chikamatsu's plays dealt with current events, such as The Uprooted Pine, about a recent scandal involving a woman from Japan's highest class of courtesans. He frequently returned to the shinju mono genre as he did with his 1720 play The Love Suicides at Amijima. Though Chikamatsu died in 1725, his friend Hozumi Ikan recalled many of the playwright's ideas in the critical work Naniwa Miyage. According to Hozumi, Chikamatsu wished to "impart to the lifeless wooden puppet a variety of emotions, and attempt in this way to capture the interest of the audience." He succeeded not just for puppets, but for human actors as well, as many of Chikamatsu's plays were later adapted for kabuki as well as for the Western stage.

Notes on Kabuki

Around 1603 a priestess from the Izumo Grand Shrine began dancing not in the temple, but in a dry riverbed in Kyoto, Japan. This remarkable woman, Okuni, seems to have single-handedly launched a new art form, adding songs and narrative interludes to her dancing. Other women began joining Okuni, and she directed them in a new style of drama. Unlike Noh, Okuni's plays used no masks, had a whole ensemble of dancers, and aimed to please the masses rather than the elite. This new style of drama came to be known as kabuki.

Originally, female dancers performed kabuki, frequently cross-dressing to take on male roles. Though the first performers came from the temples, prostitutes from nearby brothels began to join in the performances, and kabuki gained a reputation for intense sensuality, a reputation aided by the lush costumes performers employed. By 1616, there were seven licensed kabuki theatres, usually near or connected to teahouses. These theatres were located in the entertainment district, where pleasures of all kinds were available, especially prostitution. The government was scandalized by this new art form, but kabuki was too popular to ban outright, so officials decided upon a different path of action.

In 1629, the government forbade women from appearing onstage, transforming kabuki from a female-dominated to an all-male art form. Boys provided the majority of actors, but attractive youths proved to be just as erotic and troublesome to the authorities. Especially problematic were the onnagata roles, where men dressed as women.  The government tried to ban the portrayal of women on stage, but since kabuki was now seen as inherently erotic, this just led to plays featuring male homosexuality. In 1652, the government declared that only adult men could perform kabuki, banning teenage boys from the stage. Moreover, onnagata performers had to shave the fronts of their heads to make sure they did not resemble women. Onnagata performers simply began covering the fronts of their heads with scarves, which became erotically fetishized objects.

Instead of the hashigakari bridge in Noh, a kabuki stage has a path known as the hanamichi, which extends out through the audience. While a hashigakari supposedly connects the Noh stage to an invisible spirit realm, the hanamichi simply connects one geographic location with another. Noh is concerned with spiritual matters, but kabuki is more likely to deal with political issues, such as wars among nations or great feuds between families. Spectacle is very important in kabuki, and Japanese theatre artists developed important stage technologies later adopted by the West. In the eighteenth century, the playwright Namiki Shozo invented a special trap door called a seri through which actors or scenery could be elevated up onto the stage. Even more importantly, he introduced a revolving stage (known as the mawari-butai) in 1758, long before such devices were available in Europe.

Unlike Noh, kabuki uses elaborate scenery, changing it (frequently by means of elevator or revolving stage) whenever the action of the play moves to a new location. Though performers do not wear masks, they use stylized make-up and frequently hold their faces in dramatic positions. During emotional moments, a leading actor will work himself into a seeming frenzy, then snap into a pose known as a mie. Actors hold the mie for several moments, during which the audience marvels at their skill. When actors exit, they might also perform a roppo, holding several mie in rapid succession.

In spite of the humble origins of the art form, kabuki actors have traditionally enjoyed a star status. Their popularity allowed them to mingle with members of the upper classes, sometimes with disastrous results. In 1714, the theatre world was rocked by a scandal known as the Ejima-Ikushima affair. Ejima, a high-ranking lady in the court of the shogun, was caught out late with the kabuki actor Ikushima Shingoro. Ejima returned home to find the gates had already been locked, yet went from gate to gate trying to gain admittance.

Ejima had met Ikushima the previous year, and the two were reputed to be lovers. Her late-night antics caused a furor, and after an investigation Ejima and Ikumisha were separately exiled. The government closed all four kabuki theatres in the capital of Edo, though all but Ikushima's were eventually reopened. Officially, kabuki actors were considered little better than thieves and prostitutes, but as the Ejima-Ikushima affair illustrates, they could rise to very high places.