Kabuki

The story of the yakusha from the beginning of the male theatre to the dawn of the Meiji era would not be complete without mention of the onnagata, or players who specialised in women’s rôles.

Although the popularity of the most attractive and gifted onnagata was very great, yet as a class they never tried to outrival the tateyaku, or chief actors. Like the women of real life whom they sought to impersonate, they rarely attempted leadership in stage matters, and were content with modest rôles among the famous actors who played upon the stages of the three towns. The onnagata held a place all their own, and one of the most interesting developments of Kabuki has been the training and cultivation to fit men to play female characters.

The accidental cause that led to the creation of the male theatre, and in consequence to the existence of the onnagata, was the prohibition of mixed players and finally the banishment of women from the theatre. Yet it was but a reversion to an older order of things theatrical, for the practice of excluding women and employing men in their stead was centuries old in Japan and China. Long before O-Kuni began her performances on the river-bed at Kyoto, no female had dared to tread the sacred boards of the Nō stage lest its sanctity be impaired.

The disappearance of women from the theatre may have been due to the status of Japanese women, for in the general scheme of things at that time in Japan her social position prevented her from asserting a claim to the recognition of her talent, and she had no right to the free development of her instincts in the sphere of the theatre. Whether the strict adherence to the onnagata convention was due to the fear that moral corruption would follow the custom of men and women playing together, or that it was desired to keep women within their own sphere and to restrain their appearance in public where they did not belong, it is certain that all female talent in the direction of the theatre was religiously suppressed.

There is, however, a deeper reason to account for the onnagata. This specialty gave an actor an opportunity to apply a principle of all good art,—creativeness. The woman’s coiffure, make-up, and costume acted as an effective mask. The onnagata was able to hide himself behind his character, and not allow his own masculine personality to struggle through the disguise. The actor within the raiment of a woman was just as free from personal considerations as the doll-handler who pulls the strings and causes his doll to move. It was no mere lark to masquerade as a woman, but a serious study that required a lifetime to bring to perfection.

In a period of Japan when the samurai was uppermost and the artist counted for nothing, it is all the more surprising to find these actors devoting their lives to the art of female character-acting, and it was natural that they should be looked down upon by the militarists, who held in scorn everything effeminate. But the actors served the stage because the instinct within them was too strong to go unheeded. Moreover, they were as unconscious of their art as is a bird of its trill, and equally unaware of their service to their fellow-actors, to their day and generation.

The first onnagata of Kabuki are shadowy; they have left their names, but very little has been recorded of them. Kyoto produced the early onnagata, later Osaka became a headquarters, but Yedo was not the soil in which they could flourish. The people of Kyoto had not parted with their taste for things elegant, artistic, and literary,—the inheritance of centuries. Yedo was a political centre, and did not breed onnagata. But one characteristic of the onnagata was that they were common to the stages of the three towns. They received their early training in Kyoto or Osaka, then spent the best part of their careers in Yedo, or else wandered from one town to another. Still another peculiarity of the onnagata was that so many of them took to Buddhism, retiring from Kabuki to spend the remainder of their lives in some peaceful temple.

In Kyoto, Itoyori Gensaburo first acted female parts, and in Yedo, in 1642, Murayama Sakon came from Kyoto to play at the Murayama-za. He has been described on his first appearance in Yedo as wearing a flowing robe of light silk, his head covered with a cloth dyed in many colours, and he carried in his hand a branch of a tree to which was attached a long piece of paper inscribed with verse. His performance was nothing more than a simple dance. His popularity, however, brought disaster, for the authorities, ever watchful lest the theatre corrupt good manners, issued an order prohibiting onnagata. The existence of Kabuki trembled in the balance. It was some time before the matter was settled, for the proprietors of theatres, with the worthy Saruwaka Kansaburo, founder of Yedo Kabuki, at their head, made an application that male players be allowed to play as females, and permission was granted, provided the specialty should remain distinct from men’s rôles. This was the real origin of the onnagata.

Murayama Sakon’s rival and contemporary was Ukon Genzaemon. He was playing on the Yedo stage in 1655, when the city was swept by a conflagration, and his theatre was destroyed. As the actors of that time were forbidden to appear on the stage wearing long hair, but were obliged to shave the crown above the forehead, they covered their heads with a piece of silk to prevent the disfigurement from being seen. Ukon is described in the theatre gossip of the day as wearing an orange silk head-covering, and as he was a handsome youth and very womanly, it is easy to imagine that the Yedo audiences were highly pleased with him. From the criticism of the time, he was considered beautiful, a fine dancer, but had no animation, and so became monotonous. Murayama Sakon and Ukon Genzaemon played together in the same play, and were closely associated in the theatre of Osaka, Kyoto, and Yedo.

Another of these shadowy onnagata was Ebisuya Kichirobei, who was very likely kin to a theatre proprietor of that name. And there was Tamagawa Sennojo, who first went to Yedo in 1661. He played for two years at the Saruwaka-za, and afterwards, when performing in Nagoya, received what must have been a huge salary for his time, one ryo a day. He is mentioned in the theatre chronicles as an unrivalled onnagata; that he first went on the stage at the age of 14, and both while acting and in private life always wore the flowing robe of a woman, not giving up this practice until he reached that age which is considered so unlucky for a man in Japan, 42. He broke a bone, and afterwards his dancing was less graceful; he died at 50, his audiences never failing in their appreciation of him.

Two adopted sons of Murayama Matasaburo, the proprietor of the Murayama-za, became onnagata, but neither inherited their father’s theatre. There were also Taki Sansaburo, who came from Kyoto to play at the Murayama-za, and whose death at the age of 19 has been described in a romantic manner by the theatre historians. Tamagawa Shujen, also from Kyoto, was an onnagata who, early in his career, gave up the stage and became a priest.

Still another onnagata of this early period of Kabuki was Tamamura Kichiya, who rose to prominence, but afterwards declined. Ihara Saikaku, the dramatic critic of Genroku, has written of him as follows: “It is beyond doubt that he is brilliant on the stage; it is as though he were not of this world. He is skilled in his art, but with it is an air of pride and arrogance that is not satisfactory.”

Kichiya was responsible for setting the fashion in women’s apparel, for he tied his obi in a certain manner at the back and this style became the vogue. The character in which he excelled was as Yokihi, the beautiful mistress of a Chinese Emperor. A Nō play of this name deals with the beauty after she had passed on to another world, one of the many ghostly personages of the Nō, but when Mei Ran-fan, the Peking actor, appeared for the first time in Tokyo at the Imperial Theatre a few years ago, one of his successes was as Yokihi, a very human, badly behaving young person who became slightly intoxicated, but who was clad in all the colours of the rainbow, a most fascinating female. Tamagawa Kichiya, as the charming Yokihi, must have been an object of the greatest interest to Yedo people.

Ito Kodayu is mentioned in the old books as a noted onnagata. Saikaku commenting upon him wrote: “He is an onnagata by nature, his character being quiet and gentle”. Among many onnagata whose names alone remain there is Nakamura Kazuma, who was a fine dancer. He retired from the theatre and opened a shop selling toilet articles that existed in Yedo for several generations.

During the Genroku period, which produced so many actors of note, the most representative of whom were Sakata Tojuro, of Kyoto, and Ichikawa Danjuro, the first, of Yedo, the art of the onnagata underwent a great change. Emphasis had been laid on the ability to dance and on good looks, but as greater stress was put on the ability to act, the art of the onnagata made rapid advancement.

The senior among the Genroku onnagata was Ogino Sawanojo, who died in 1704. He played heroines to Danjuro’s heroes, and was long associated with the first Ichikawa. He wore an obi of unusual width, and it became the fashion among the ladies of the capital. Tiring of the stage, he gave it up and opened an incense shop, but the attraction of the theatre was too great, and he returned. Always closely associated with Danjuro, he died the same year in which the founder of Japan’s most famous line of actors was murdered in his dressing-room. Amayo Sanbai Kigen, or Three Cups of Sake on a Rainy Night, a book of criticism, praises Ogino highly: “Even the gods and Buddha would be struck with the actions of this man. He is most realistic in pathetic scenes. As a lady of high rank, or a wife of the lower classes, he leaves nothing to be desired.”

The first onnagata in Kyoto during Genroku was Yoshizawa Ayame, who died in 1729. He was brought up by a widowed mother leading a precarious existence on Dotombori, the theatre street of Osaka. At first he was a page in the household of a daimyo, and later went on the stage. In the characters he played, he was not restricted to certain types of fair women as had been the case with his predecessors, but was most versatile, acting equally well heroines of the gay quarters, women of bad character, and ladies of high degree.

The playwright, Fukuoka Yagoshiro, collected Ayame’s ideas about the art of the onnagata, and made them into a book called Ayame Gusa, or the Sayings of Ayame.

In this Ayame declared that an onnagata should have the heart of an onnagata even in the gakuya, or green-room. When partaking of bento (eatables served in a box) and sushi (cooked rice rolled into dainty morsels and stuffed with vegetables or fish after the manner of a sandwich), he should take care not to be seen eating. If his manners were masculine, and he ate and drank in the same manner as a tateyaku, his acting would not be successful. An onnagata, Ayame declared, should hide the fact of his being married, and if he were asked about his wife he should blush. Even if he had many children he must be like a child himself.

Ayame also believed that the chief thing for an onnagata to do was to play the part of a good woman. This ought to be the duty of an onnagata, and rôles that were not proper, even though the play was popular, should be declined. He advocated that an onnagata should not lose the gentleness and mildness of a woman, but he recognised the unnaturalness of a male acting female rôles, and gave the advice that it was wise to develop the natural feelings of a woman in daily life, and not to use too much affectation on the stage. A really good onnagata was an actor who passed his daily life with the heart of a woman. When an onnagata on the stage thought that he had an important rôle as a woman, his actions would become unwomanlike.

Contemporary with Ayame was Midzuki Tatsunosuke, a precocious actor who played with Sakata Tojuro when he was 16. He died at the age of 73, and the onnagata school he established endured long after his death, several of his pupils distinguishing themselves. Yoshizawa Ayame had a deshi called Sodesaki Karyu, who became a popular onnagata. He was born in the country near Osaka, yet spent most of his life in Yedo. His talent was versatile, and he could act the greatest variety of women, from a princess to the wife of a coolie. Following the fashion of many retired onnagata, when he left the theatre he started an incense shop, but his interest in the business, which could not have been highly lucrative, soon waned, and he returned to the stage, playing in the rôle of chief actor instead of onnagata. His audiences took kindly to the change, and he did not lose his stage reputation in consequence.

Towards the end of the Genroku period there were a surprising number of onnagata playing on the Yedo stage, nearly all of whom had come from Osaka. This was due to the fact that Kabuki was rapidly absorbing the ballad dramas of the Doll-theatre, and many an actor who desired to become an onnagata received stimulus to his ambition when watching the doll-handlers as they moved the female characters. The art of these doll-handlers was so remarkable that it was only natural that the future onnagata of Kabuki should learn how to act the doll-drama heroines, and eventually imitate the doll’s every gesture and movement. There was a ningyo-tsukai, or doll-handler, called Oyama, who was a genius in moving female dolls, and his name became so closely associated with his art that the onnagata were often called oyama, a term that is synonymous with onnagata and used quite as frequently by theatre folk to-day.

Among these numerous onnagata was Sawamura Kodenji, brother of Sawamura Chojuro, who occupies a prominent place as a leading onnagata in the history of Kabuki. There is a story told of Kodenji that he visited a temple, Fujidera, in the Province of Kawachi. He travelled thither in a kago, or palanquin, and was so fatigued after his long journey that when he got out he uttered an exclamation that would have come naturally from a woman under like circumstances. Kodenji acted with the first Danjuro.

Nakamura Senya at first was an insignificant onnagata in Yedo, but he went to Osaka, where he scored a great success in a courtesan play and remained there many years, returning to Yedo after an absence of eighteen years. The criticisms of the day complained that he had grown fat, but was still a true onnagata in spirit and gesture. When Nakamura Senya returned from Osaka, he started the custom for a Kyoto or Osaka actor performing in Yedo to give gifts to minor actors and theatre employees. He presented a good many kimono dyed in a certain colour which became all the rage, and was called Senya dye.

Next to Senya was Ogino Yayigiri, whose favourite rôles were those of heroines who have died with their lovers—double suicide, or shinju, a popular theme of the Doll-theatre plays. Just as Sawamura Chojuro was the representative actor of this later period of Genroku, so Ogino Yayigiri was the leading onnagata. His successor was drowned in the Sumida River, and a Kabuki playwright used the accident for the plot of a play.

During Horeki, there was much confusion as to the division of labour among the actors, and they exchanged their specialties whenever they saw fit. There was not the same concentration upon the onnagata, and the art suffered in consequence.

In the modern history of Kabuki during the hundred years previous to the Restoration, a line of onnagata, who went by the name of Iwai Hanshiro, dominated Yedo Kabuki. The first of the name was manager of a theatre in Osaka during Genroku, and had four children. His two sons succeeded him as the second and third Hanshiro respectively, but they were tateyaku. It was the fourth Hanshiro who established the famous onnagata line. He was the son of a doll-handler in Osaka.

The fifth Hanshiro, son of the fourth, was a noted onnagata, and there was seen on the Yedo stage an unprecedented actor family alliance—the fifth Hanshiro with his two sons playing together, all three onnagata. Hanshiro, the fifth, played the rôle of a beautiful princess, even when he had reached old age, and at 63 shaved his head as a sign of retirement from the world and lived at Asakusa in Yedo, not far from the Goddess-of-Mercy Temple that dominated this quarter then even as it does at the present day. He died at 72, but old age was not able to dim his charm or good looks, and it was the current expression among the playgoers of his time that Hanshiro’s eyes were worth 1000 ryo.

The fifth Hanshiro played with the fifth Matsumoto Koshiro and Bando Mitsugoro, and Yedo audiences were enthusiastic about them. This Hanshiro also travelled a good deal, and was popular wherever he went. Once he took ship to Nagasaki, and while boarding the vessel missed his footing and fell into the sea. He was rescued by a sailor. He took his sudden plunge quite calmly, and did not struggle in the waves. This was his customary attitude toward life. On the way back from Nagasaki he travelled by land as he was to act in Nagoya, and his baggage returned by boat to Yedo. When he arrived at Nagoya, he received word that a fire had destroyed the house in which his belongings had been stored. Two days after this his son, the sixth Hanshiro, died. But Hanshiro did not want the members of his company to become depressed at his bad news, and ordered many summer kimono adorned with iris patterns, and distributed these among the actors so that their eyes would be pleased and there would be no sign of mourning.

Hanshiro, the fifth, married a daughter of the third Sawamura Sojuro, named O-Chiyo, who was of gentle disposition and very accomplished. She possessed considerable literary talent, and was well versed in poetry. She never went to the theatre, because she considered it highly ridiculous to see her husband in a woman’s rôle. After his son the sixth Hanshiro died, a second son succeeded as Hanshiro, the seventh, but he died in middle life. The eighth Hanshiro brings us down to recent times, for he was one of the stars of the Meiji period.

The fourth Yoshizawa Ayame, son of the third, and descended from the first Ayame of Genroku fame, was a popular onnagata. He managed an Osaka theatre and travelled back and forth between Osaka and Kyoto, succeeding to the name of Ayame at the age of 53 and dying at 56.

Not less popular in their day than the Iwai Hanshiro line was the onnagata family of Segawa. There was the third Segawa Kikugoro, who was born in Osaka, the son of a theatre costumer. His son became Segawa Kikunojo, who, unlike most actors, was economical, saved his earnings, and invested in houses and land. The adopted son of this Kikunojo became Segawa Kikunojo, the fourth, and he was a famous onnagata. He enjoyed but a brief career, dying at the age of 31.

At the time the sixth and seventh Hanshiro were acting, the fifth Segawa Kikunojo was acknowledged to be the leading onnagata in Yedo. He was a large man, but possessed rather rough manners, being short and abrupt with his fellow-actors, and much disliked by his neighbours. Yet upon the stage there was no one to compare with him. He died at 31, at the height of his career.

In the Bunka and Bunsei period the representative onnagata in Osaka and Kyoto was Nakamura Tomijuro. He was exiled by the authorities from Osaka for extravagance. He tried to have his sentence revoked, and travelled up to Yedo to appeal to the authorities, but in vain. Although he had been at the top of his profession, with no other onnagata to rival him, yet he was unable to return home, and spent his life in Sakai, the port near Osaka, where he was obliged to play in country theatres with inferior players. This must have been severe punishment for an actor of genius, who lived to be 70 years of age.

Nakamura Karoku, another onnagata of distinction, was the son of a clerk connected with the Mitsui Company in Osaka. He came to Yedo at the age of 40 and played there until he had reached 74, dying at 80. He was a large, handsome man, and had blood relations with many actor families. His first wife died; he married a second half his age, and had altogether twelve children. One daughter married the third Arashi Kichisaburo, another became the wife of Ichikawa Kodanji, while a third was the wife of Kataoka Nizaemon, the eighth. Nakamura Karoku was succeeded by his son.

He had a habit of coughing when crossing a bridge near his home to let his household know of his approach, and was considered very extravagant because there were always two candles burning at the entrance to his house that a bright welcome should be waiting him when he returned from the theatre.

Famous for his good looks was the second Sawamura Tannosuke, son of the third Sawamura Sojuro. He was born in Kyoto, and his father died when he was 14. There was a rumour once that he had committed suicide, but this was not true; he had hurt himself on the stage and did not appear for some time.

Ichikawa Dannosuke, an onnagata, son of the fourth Ichikawa Danzo, failed in the management of the Kiri-za in Yedo, and committed suicide at 32. There was Nakayama Nishi, an onnagata common to the theatre of Osaka and Kyoto, who specialised in innocent young girl rôles, dressed in gaudy kimono, and loved to be conspicuous. He retired and opened an oil shop. And there was the fourth Yamashita Kinsaku, who was trained in small theatres, was stout, had a clear voice, and played chiefly in middle-aged women’s characters. Nakamura Daikichi, who became ill on the stage, fainted in the gakuya, and died before his heavy wig could be removed, was another popular onnagata.

Such were some of the onnagata who distinguished themselves in the Japanese theatre during two centuries, the period from 1642, when the first Kyoto onnagata played in Yedo for the first time, to 1868, the year of the Restoration. The actors of Meiji, and the developments that took place upon the opening of Japan to commercial relations with other countries, belong to the story of Meiji Kabuki, which forms a later chapter.

Yet it must be mentioned that because of the present array of onnagata that adorn the stages of Osaka and Tokyo, there is very little danger that the specialty is near extinction. On the contrary, the two leading theatres of Tokyo are headed by onnagata, Nakamura Utayemon, of the Kabuki-za, and Onoe Baiko, of the Imperial. It is also very significant that this unique art is still unknown in that other half of the world, where, since the boy actors of Shakespeare’s time, who played the famous heroines of the eternal dramatist, the playing of female rôles by males has become a lost art.