Kabuki

The present condition of Kabuki is like that of an old temple within a walled garden, around which flows the modern life of a great city, where rages a conflict between two civilisations, that of Asia, and the other, largely commercial, imported from the West. Reformers believe that the temple is all out of date, and are seeking with conscious effort how best they can change the style of architecture.

Some there are who go boldly within the sacred precincts with pots of paint in order that the fading hues of the pictures beneath the curving roofs may be covered by a new design. It is not in their thoughts to restore the tarnished colours, but to destroy and make anew. Still others climb upon the walls and look with scorn upon the priests, calling them lazy, indifferent, and ignorant. And now and then some learned gentleman from the West enters with the worshippers on a festival day, and declares that he wonders what it is all about, while others, even more learned, proclaim in solemn tones that the temple is in decay, and in a few years it will fall with a crash, and so give way for a Western edifice to be built upon the ruins.

In spite of these dire pronouncements,—the rushing modern life outside, the ill-advised observers on the walls, the reformers who seek to destroy,—Kabuki still has its priests, the actors, and goes triumphantly on its way. Heedless of the critics they carry on, performing the old ceremonies, preserving the ancient traditions and conventions with all fidelity, yet turning their faces resolutely toward the future.

Three groups of actors now control the destiny of Tokyo Kabuki,—the companies attached to the Imperial Theatre, Kabuki-za, and Ichimura-za.

With the opening of the Imperial Theatre in 1911 a new force began to work in this shibai world. Not only did the Imperial draw audiences from the most representative citizens of the capital, but it became a centre for the entertainment of distinguished guests from overseas. Here, also, have been welcomed the musicians, actors, and dancers of many lands.

American and British touring companies have appeared at the Imperial. Prince Arthur of Connaught witnessed a play here, and the Prince of Wales, as the guest of the Mayor of Tokyo, attended performances with the Prince Regent. Enthusiastic audiences have applauded a score of Western musical celebrities at this theatre. Russian singers, dancers, and actors have been warmly received from time to time, and Madame Pavlova and her company performed for two weeks with great success. Here, also, the people of Tokyo have had the opportunity to listen to a repertoire of Italian grand opera. Mei Ran-fan, the popular actor of the Peking stage, also filled two engagements at the Imperial. Shakespeare’s plays have been performed by Japanese players, while new plays influenced by England and Europe are frequently presented.

Onoe Baiko, the sixth, is the head actor of the Imperial. His specialty is that of the onnagata, as is that of Nakamura Utayemon, the chief actor of the Kabuki-za. This is the first time in the history of Kabuki for two actors devoting themselves to female rôles to take such commanding places. In the old days the onnagata with becoming modesty was content with a lesser position among the yakusha.

Mansfield once wrote: “But who shall say when this generation has passed away how Yorick played?” In Japan, however, how Yorick played is known, for every actor of genius leaves his mark upon the son or pupil who succeeds him, and his style and type are handed down. Both Onoe Baiko and Nakamura Utayemon have sons who give evidence that they are worthy to preserve the type. Eisaburo, who serves as an understudy to Baiko, already closely resembles his father, while Nakamura Fukusuke seems to have inherited the elegance and grace of his parent and teacher, Utayemon. These two young men are the leaders among the younger onnagata and will no doubt uphold the honour of this specialty at a not distant period.

Baiko, following the traditions of the Onoe family, for he is the grandson of the third Kikugoro, and was adopted by the fifth, is clever in the weird, and never pleases so much as when he plays an unearthly woman, ghost, or demon. He is particularly successful as a woman of the people, but it is as a dancer that he has endeared himself to all Tokyo. The grace of his movements, the power of suggestion in his descriptive dances, fill all who witness them with admiration.

Next to Baiko comes the versatile Matsumoto Koshiro, the seventh. Without doubt Koshiro is the best-equipped yakusha in Japan. He is both a good actor and an accomplished dancer. Born in a provincial town, his father was a builder and contractor, and he might have missed his calling had not Fujima Kanyemon, the furitsuke, or dancing master of the Tokyo stage, taken such an interest in the child that he adopted him as his heir and successor.

Danjuro, the ninth, saw that the boy was better fitted to become an actor than to be an exponent of dancing, and early took him under his protection. Of all Danjuro’s followers, Koshiro is the best qualified to carry on the Ichikawa traditions. Unfortunately, Koshiro was indiscreet in his youthful escapades, and so angered his master that he was expelled by Danjuro from the theatre, and for a time it seemed that he might never return.

When the Imperial was opened, Koshiro became attached to this theatre, and was quickly reinstated in the favour of the public. Danjuro’s widow, however, never forgot the injunction of her husband that Koshiro was not to succeed him, and while this actor is in every respect an Ichikawa, the great name of the tenth is still going begging.

In the Ichikawa aragoto rôles Koshiro is the best in Japan. Thoroughly trained in the Fujima school of dancing, he is a creative dancer, always producing new modes of expression. As a realistic actor he has few equals, and shows much cleverness in new plays. It is in making up, however, that he greatly excels, and can transform his countenance by means of strange, imaginative designs, or become a rogue, policeman, statesman, doctor, or lawyer in modern plays with surprising success.

The seventh Sawamura Sojuro is also one of the Imperial Theatre stars. He acts so well with Baiko and Koshiro that they form a perfect trio, and when there is a break in this stage comradeship, Tokyo will be conscious of a blank like that which was experienced when the three great actors of Meiji passed away one after the other.

Sojuro is at his best in samurai and aristocratic rôles, He also makes a fascinating woman, and his ability in the dance, while not so striking as that of Baiko and Koshiro, is still very great. Acting with Sojuro are his four sons, and a nephew, Sawamura Chojuro. A few months after the earthquake disaster of 1923, Sawamura Sonosuke, also a nephew of Sojuro, one of the best onnagata of the Tokyo stage, passed away. During a performance in a small theatre that had escaped the general ruin of the city he fell from a height on the stage and died a few hours later.

Morita Kanya, the thirteenth, among the most promising young actors of the Imperial, is a name to conjure with in Tokyo. The son of the theatre manager of the same name who became intoxicated with Western ideas and experimented in the new only to return to the sanity of Kabuki in the end, Kanya has a deep hold upon the affections of Tokyo playgoers, not only because of his long lineage and the association of his family with the city, but for the reason of his handsome appearance and unquestioned ability.

He has become so popular in modern plays dealing with the problems of the young man of to-day that he is forgetful of tradition. Like his father, however, he is original and eager to seek out new paths. His brother, Bando Mitsugoro, is one of the chief exponents of the shosagoto school in Tokyo, and a dancer of whom Tokyo is proud.

Associated with these players is Onoe Matsusuke, the fourth, the oldest actor on the Tokyo stage. He played with Danjuro, but old age has no terrors for him, and he is never absent from the footlights. Although Matsusuke is benevolent and fatherly in appearance, he delights in acting villains, and when he takes old men’s rôles he is such a complete success that it will be very difficult to fill his place after he is gone.

For twenty years the acknowledged leader of the Tokyo actors has been Nakamura Utayemon, the fifth. The most finished onnagata in Japan, having played with the three stars of Meiji—Danjuro, Kikugoro, and Sadanji—he is still active at the end of a long career, playing maidens of sixteen, though he is approaching the sober judgement of the sixties.

At the Kabuki-za, Nakamura Utayemon still holds his own. His audiences notice the signs of advancing age, yet their attitude is one of great loyalty. The chief Tokyo yakusha has a world of meaning for the patrons of shibai, as it signifies the actor has obtained the highest rank possible. He is proud and something of a martinet in the theatre, but on the stage Utayemon’s fair women are a study in themselves. His elegance will be remembered long after he is no more.

Nephew to Kikugoro, the fifth, Ichimura Uzaemon, the thirteenth, has inherited a name that adorns the history of Kabuki, the first Uzaemon being the owner of the Ichimura-za, for long years one of Yedo’s chief shibai. He is brilliant, showy, sentimental, an actor of many accomplishments, accustomed to play lover, brother, or father to Utayemon’s heroines.

Follower of Danjuro, the ninth, Ichikawa Chusha is an actor who enjoys much popularity. His restrained manner and well-modulated voice, and cleverness in the realm of the unreal have marked him as a true disciple of the Ichikawa family. He manages to make his villains more thoroughly wicked than those of any other player.

Belonging to Utayemon’s generation is Kataoka Nizaemon, the eleventh. Only two actor lines have come down from Genroku unbroken, those of Ichikawa and Kataoka, the one uppermost in Yedo, the other the first family of Osaka. The present Nizaemon, discouraged, perhaps, because of the overwhelming popularity of Nakamura Ganjiro, with no background of family, but who has captured all before him, has made Tokyo his headquarters for the past fifteen years. When Ganjiro comes at long intervals to play in Tokyo, Nizaemon leaves for Osaka, a deep rivalry existing between them. Something in Nizaemon’s temperament has made open competition with Ganjiro impossible, although in certain rôles no one can approach him.

Nakamura Kichiyemon, a member of the Kabuki-za company, is a meteor-like actor, having risen rapidly and by sheer ability, for he has little ancestral prestige to enhance his reputation. He has no pretensions to boast of as a dancer, but in the loyalty characters of the Kabuki masterpieces, in creating afresh the rôles left by Chikamatsu Monzaemon, Takeda Izumo, and Chikamatsu Hanji, he is unsurpassed. His brother, Nakamura Tokizo, is one of the young onnagata of whom much is expected.

The youngest actor of the Tokyo stage is Nakamura Matagoro, aged 12. His actor father died a few years ago, and Kichiyemon took the lad under his protection. It is no exaggeration to call Matagoro’s acting remarkable. Something of Kabuki’s Montessori methods are clearly shown in this boy’s performances, but personality counts also. He seems to the manner born, and it is felt that he will develop into a future leader of Kabuki.

Bando Shucho of the Kabuki-za is like an old-fashioned onnagata in type, and his son resembles him very closely. There seems no danger that this specialty will become extinct, although the Tokyo stage has lost within recent years four of its most talented impersonators of women.

Onoe Kikugoro, the sixth, son of the popular Kikugoro of the Meiji period, is at the head of the Ichimura-za company of players. He follows his father in acting men of the people, yet has never been able to equal the parental standard. In shosagoto and the descriptive dance, however, he is a genius, original, picturesque, a master of movement. Possessed of energy, creativeness, and eager for new ideas, Kikugoro is one of the most interesting personalities on the Tokyo stage.

Ichikawa Sadanji, the fifth, son of the Meiji actor, and one of Tokyo’s most popular players, is at the head of his own company, has travelled abroad, and is more favourably inclined to new ventures than the revival of the old plays.

Nakamura Ganjiro bears the same relation to the Osaka stage as Utayemon does to Tokyo. He follows the natural school founded by Sakata Tojuro of Kyoto, and like this Genroku actor, one of his favourite rôles is that of Izaemon, the lover of Yugiri, in the Chikamatsu drama. Born the son of an actor, but unfortunate in his family circumstances, he is self-made, and by many is considered the first actor of Japan. He is the last of the fine old yakusha; in the Meiji period he had already won a high place for himself, appearing with the three Tokyo stars, Ichikawa Danjuro, Ichikawa Sadanji, and Onoe Kikugoro, and to-day he dominates the Dotombori, the theatre quarter of Osaka.

An onnagata who baffles description, since he is so subtle, is Nakamura Fukusuke, of Osaka, there being two actors of the same name at present. Some years older than the Tokyo Fukusuke, the Osaka actor plays many types of women, each creation appearing better than that which has gone before.

After Ganjiro in Osaka, there is Jitsukawa Enjaku, an actor of the first quality, who for some reason known only to the profession is rarely seen in Tokyo. Gado, of Osaka, is a nephew of Nizaemon, and spends his time between the two cities. Nakamura Jakuyemon, the third, an Osaka onnagata, frequently plays in Tokyo. He differs from all the other actors because he has persistently and consistently patterned after the marionettes, and seems to have associated with the dolls in such a familiar way as to belong to the sphere of elfs and fairies rather than to the ordinary characters of drama.

The effect of the earthquake disaster of September i, 1923, upon the Tokyo stage can hardly be estimated. By this catastrophe the leading theatres of the city were demolished, with the exception of the Imperial and the Kabuki-za, which remained damaged and gaunt reminders amid the general devastation. The Imperial withstood the earthquake shocks, but fire destroyed the interior. It has, however, been restored and reopened. The Kabuki-za, burned down in 1921, was being rebuilt on an elaborate scale, and its outer shell of concrete by some miracle was left intact in a region of the city that was levelled to the ground. The work of construction, however, went forward as soon as conditions would allow, and was completed in time for the opening performances in January 1925. The solid Occidental structure has been combined with some of the most ornate Japanese architectural features, and the new Kabuki-za is one of the most gorgeous buildings to be found throughout the East.

Poverty, suffering, hardship, followed in the wake of the unprecedented earthquake disaster, and it will take many years before the scars are healed and the theatre once more reflects the restored prosperity of the people. Whether this chastening will be a benefit or lasting injury remains to be seen.

The new Kabuki-za, with a seating capacity of 4000, which was opened on January 6, 1925. Under construction at the time of the earthquake disaster, September 1, 1923, the concrete structure remained intact. Japanese architectural features have been used throughout the Kabuki-za, and, rising out of the ruins of the city, it is one of the most imposing buildings in Tokyo.

Kabuki, always acquisitive, standing between the idealism of the Nō and the realism of the Doll-theatre, is no longer self-centred, but has become, like Kim, the friend of all the world, and is ever ready to learn from London, New York, Paris, or Berlin.

On the other hand, to cause the inner consciousness of the Japanese people to speak to that of the West through the medium of what is genuine in Kabuki—this is the large untried experiment of the future.

The Western Theatre, possessing the traditions of the Greeks and of Shakespeare, has yet to discover the Eastern Theatre, a sphere of human endeavour that remains unexplored and unexploited. Out of the theatrical wisdom of the East may come a force to produce a new era of creativeness in the West. By the recognition and appreciation of Kabuki, the Western Theatre would not only greatly enrich itself, but stimulate the actors of Asia to higher things.