| |
| |
|
|
|
"Oh, no!" This is what a fellow JET said
when asked if she wanted to attend a performance
of a visiting Kyoto Noh theatre troupe.
"Aannnoooo, no." This is what the drama
teacher at my school replied when I inquired
if he would grace said performance.
"Oh, hell no!!!" This is what my friends in
America exclaimed when they heard about my impending
Japanese theatre experience.
And yet with all these rejections and a handful
of other warnings ("You might want to take some
Prozac along!"), I found myself on January 19th
sitting in the red cushioned seats of the Matsue
Prefectural Theater trying to convince myself
that it wouldn't be, couldn't be, that bad.
And, surprisingly, it wasn't.
When I arrived at the theatre the first thing
I noticed was that the audience was composed
mostly of people between their late thirties
and early seventies. Many of the women were
dressed in heavy winter kimono and haori (the
overcoat for kimono). Shuffling along on wooden
geta, these gray-haired-bun women clip-clopped
their way down the aisles and into their seats.
The two women in the row directly in front of
me spent the first five minutes taking their
medication (Prozac?) for the day -- spilling
an assortment of pills into each other's wrinkled
hands. I felt young, underdressed and very foreign.
Next, I took note of the stage and scenery
or lack of scenery as was the case. Elevated
above the normal stage was the traditional Noh
wooden stage and a spattering of small pine
trees. In Japan, the evergreen pine is a symbol
of longevity and unchanging steadfastness, and
can be seen in many Noh productions.
First to enter, dressed in black tops and billowing
gray or brown pants were the hayashi (musicians),
jiutia (chorus) and stage-hands (the stage-hands
actually stay on stage and hand the actors props
when needed). Usually consisting of eight men,
the jiutai sits at the side of the stage and
narrates the character's thoughts and emotions.
Perched at the back of the stage, the hayashi
play various instruments including: the nohkan
(flute), kotsuzumi (an hourglass-shaped drum
held at the shoulder), okawa (an hourglass-shaped
drum placed on the lap), and taiko (a drum beaten
with sticks). Kakegoe or drum calls were also
utilized. Adding to the sound texture of the
performance, drum calls serve as signals between
the drummers and singers.
The play begins only once all the actors have
entered the stage. As soon as a Noh play commences
the core aesthetic elements of Noh -- monomane
(the imitation of things) and yugen (mystery,
depth, quiet elegance, grace, and subtle beauty)
-- are apparent. Noh theatre is known for being
slow, so for several minutes the audience sits
and watches the actors gracefully walk onto
the stage. Much of the performance is compostition
of deliberate movements, a sing-song delivery
of some old-school Japanese, and the punctuating
beats of drums, drum calls and the actors stomping
their feet.
The whole experience lasted three hours and
fifteen minutes which, as any thespians will
attest, is a long show. There were actually
three different plays: two Noh dramas and one
Kyogen comedy. Kyogen is the classical comic
theater which balances the more serious Noh.
Dressed in bright pastel colored costumes, the
actors slithered across stage in pants several
feet longer than their own legs. This costume
choice alternately conjured up images of small
boys dressing up in their father's clothes and
of aliens whose legless bodies were being propelled
by the swoosh-swoosh of excess material. Those
images in themselves made me laugh.
Given the language barrier, it was no wonder
that much of the storyline of these performances
were lost on me. But add upon that the fact
that in Noh space and time is not portrayed
realistically, and you are in for one confusing
theatrical experience. And yet, the beauty of
Noh is not what it shows you but what it doesn't
show you. Noh affords its audience the freedom
to use their imaginations -- to create everything
from the scenery to the characters' facial expressions.
In taking a public performance and transforming
it into a personal production, Noh theatre offers
a show unlike what you may experience in mainstream
western drama.
So, while you may not exit a performance of
Noh with a tear in your eye or humming a snappy
showtune, when someone asks you, "So was it
awful?" you can emphatically answer, "Oh, no!" |
|
|
|
|
|
