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on 2010-08-07 (24 reads)
A regular feature by Teru GAMO English adaption by Leonie Stickland
| At the end of April this year, in Tokyo’s Ginza, the curtain fell for the last time upon the Kabukiza Theatre in its present incarnation. The final piece in the farewell performance was ‘Sukeroku yukari no Edo-zakura (Sukeroku: Flower of Edo),’ in which Ichikawa Danjūrō played the protagonist, Sukeroku. The programme featured all of the popular actors in the theatrical world, who appeared en masse to adorn the stage on the last day of the Kabukiza. The current building was erected 59 years ago, but the Kabukiza itself boasts a history of over 120 years. First performed in 1713, ‘Sukeroku’ is the epitome of Edo-style kabuki drama, and is a showpiece of the theatrical dynasty known as Naritaya, the House of which Danjūrō is the hereditary head. There are several categories of kabuki plays, ‘Sukeroku’ being classed as aragoto (‘rough stuff’) due to its bombastic nature. True to its heritage, it is colourful, captivating, gallant, and employs big and bold stylistic devices such as mie (dramatic poses) and keren (stage tricks including the use of trapdoors for rapid appearances or disappearances, lightning-quick changes of costume, and the tumbling-down of sets). In the ceremony following the play, an astounding 400 actors took to the stage together to deliver a speech marking the Kabukiza’s closure before the final curtain. The building, whose demolition was to start in May, is scheduled to be rebuilt over three years and reborn in 2013 in the Japanese spring as a towering edifice with 29 floors above ground and four below, incorporating office space with a new theatre. Its old façade, with its distinctive undulating gables, will be retained on the front wall, whose mixture of old and new has attracted ridicule from a bad-mouthed bunch of critics who have dubbed it a ‘skyscraper with its own public bathhouse attached.’ According to the outline of the planned renovation, the number of seats will remain at the current 1859, and, to my joy, the so-called ‘one-act seats’ will be retained. This is kindness on the part of the Kabukiza, and I am absolutely delighted. The ‘one-act seats’ are unique to the Kabukiza, and are akin to ‘gallery’ seats, or ‘the gods.’ For about the price of lunch, one can watch kabuki for around an hour, which is equivalent to about one act, and so these seats are perfect for people with not much time to spare. I, too, have sat in them several times, and the other occupiers seemed divided into either tourists or theatre buffs. When, in the very midst of the farewell performance, the actor Nakamura Kanzaburō XVIII onstage exhorted the audience to encourage the new Kabukiza to offer an even more wonderful world of theatrical fantasy, he was reportedly greeted with cheers and applause. Kanzaburō the actor is an extremely smart gentleman: he is adept at capturing the hearts of the audience, especially its younger members. Kanzaburō: saviour of the kabuki world? Nakamura Kanzaburō XVIII, the current holder of that hereditary stage name, made his stage debut at the age of three, using the name Kankurō. In that, he was similar to other popular actors, but what set him somewhat apart was his constant ‘naughtiness.’ The Kanzaburō of the previous generation was very fond of him, and as the youngster often appeared on television, also, his openness was well-known to everyone. That same boy eventually grew up to carry the theatrical world—known poetically in Japanese as the ‘pear orchard’—on his shoulders. Thanks partly to the influence of one of my seniors who was a theatre-lover, I personally was a fan of the late Onoe Tatsunosuke I, and my favourite female-role player (kabuki being performed only |
by males) is Nakamura Matsue. In his young days, Onoe Tatsunosuke was part of the celebrated ‘three Nosukes’ phenomenon, along with the then Danjūrō (Shinnosuke) and Kikugorō (Kikunosuke). A exquisite photograph of Onoe used to grace one corner of the second-floor lobby of the old Kabukiza, along with that of other famous actors, but his early death at 40 was such a shame. A certain kabuki expert once commented, ‘He is bewitching, seductive and speaks his lines beautifully. The part of a pure youth suits him, his intelligence flashes, and he is the best dancer…’ He was richly talented and naïve, and a heavy drinker, worthy of being called the Dazai Osamu (a famous writer and drinker) of the thespian world. To return to the topic of Kanzaburō, I had the opportunity to write a little piece about him in a particular newspaper, and did various bits of research as well as going to see him on stage. The play was Cocoon Kabuki’s ‘Sakura Gimin-den (The Saga of Sakura the Martyr),’ performed at Bunkamura’s Theatre Cocoon in Shibuya. This is the tale of a man called Kinouchi Sōgo (Sakura Sōgorō), who was born into the family of the village mayor in Imba County in the old province of Shimousa in the 17th century. The overlords of the Sakura Clan imposed mercilessly heavy taxes upon the people of the domain, and an endless series of deaths from starvation and refugees to other provinces culminated in a peasant uprising. Sōgo endeavoured with other village mayors to make an appeal to the prefectural governor and Clan officials, but was turned away. Left with no alternative, he went up to the capital, Edo, and appealed to the Clan’s Edo residence, and even to one of the Shogun’s aides, but was rejected. He had exhausted all avenues, but did not lose heart. Seizing the opportunity afforded by a visit by the fourth Shogun, Ietsuna, to Kan’ei-ji (a temple in Ueno), he made a direct appeal to the Shogun, and made the latter acknowledge Sōgo’s request. Though admittedly the times and circumstances were different, his courage, perseverance and tireless fighting spirit remind one vividly of the same qualities in the Indian martyr Mahatma Gandhi. Kanzaburō gave such an enthusiastic and energetic performance on stage that it was almost as if Sōgo had possessed him. The direction and art direction in Cocoon Kabuki is by Kushida Kazuyoshi, a small-company director whose name formerly came to prominence with the Jiyū Gekijō (Freedom Theatre). He is a revolutionary in the theatrical world, having worked with such geniuses and wizards in the field as Noda Hideki and Kudō Kankurō, in addition to Kanzaburō. While it is also important to adhere to old tradition, it is many times tougher and vital to establish the foundations of new tradition. The soul of an actor with a bottomless wellspring of magma in his belly overlapped that of the image of Sōgo. That once ‘naughty little boy’ extended his mischievous manner out into the world. He revived the Nakamuraza, a kabuki troupe originally active in the late Edo period. His staging at the Kabukiza of ‘Oedo Living Dead’, in which he joined Kudō, was a seemingly frivolous historical play with zombies running rampant. Naturally, critics were sharply divided as to its merits. One long-time drama critic indignantly declared that it was dreadful, and if that was kabuki, then anything would be kabuki. Kanzaburō paid no heed, saying that bad reviews were to be expected, and that he would be ‘finished’ if he were praised. He is right in the middle of building a new tradition, himself. |