11/20 Japan Diary #2 - Kabuki

I got up earlier than I usually would on a Sunday. I met with Eriko and we strolled along in delicious sunshine, chitchatting girlishly.

The train wasn’t crowded at all, but we popped out of the station in an area we were both unfamiliar with.  So we placed our trust in Google-sensei. Eriko told me she was trying to get tickets to a movie in which a student falls in love with her teacher. After that, Google-sensei became Google-sweetie – always by your side, always a listening ear. Always helpful, he led us to the National Theatre where we would see kabuki.

We linked up with Chris-sensei and his lovely wife Shuko in front of the theatre and made our way inside. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but the atmosphere in the theatre was noticeably relaxed. Many patrons had dressed up in kimono, but the energy was more like that of a holiday than of a formal event- a pleasant, refined way of spending a Sunday.

As we entered the auditorium and saw the stage, its characteristic hanamichi, the elegantly ornamented curtain, the red and white lanterns lining the walls, I knew I was in for a treat. Whether it’s a middle school play or a Broadway production, without fail, those few minutes before a show always set a little spark of excitement in my heart.

The plays we saw were relatively modern ones – Sakazaki dewa no Kami and Kutsukake Tokijiro. When the curtain opened on Sakazaki, I was taken aback by the detail of the sets. Perhaps I’ve grown accustomed to modern theater (and cheap theater) with its spare sets that simply suggest setting. This was the opposite; it was elaborate, and yet never overdone. The backgrounds were painted realistically and deftly suggested background and foreground. The costumes were period and impeccably styled. I noticed there was no Proscenium Arch as in Western theater. I think it was this aspect, as well as the unique shape of the kabuki stage, that created a feeling of experiencing the stories from within rather than just watching them.

One thing I’ve noticed time and time again in Japanese art forms, be it music, literature, or theatre, is that you never have to guess what time of year the story is taking place. In the way that New York City is often the extra character in American films, nature and its seasons often play a large role in Japanese tales. While the plays we saw didn’t have much music, the sounds there were reflected nature – birds, insects, rainfall.

I loved my first kabuki experience. Chris-sensei said the Kabuki-za (perhaps the premiere venue for viewing kabuki) is a little more disciplined in their approach to the performance. But I liked our relaxed approach just fine. I’d love to see one of the Juuhachiban, what are considered the top eighteen kabuki plays. I’d love to see one with a supernatural creature. I’d love to see one with more music. I think my first brush with kabuki allowed me to relax and open myself to the story, to experience it and not just observe it. If anything, it just left me wanting more!