Heart

            Recently I went to see the Avengers movie in 3D. (Well, me and about half of the American population. It grossed over $207 million of three days.) It is a wonderful movie, and I would really suggest that if you have not yet seen it to take a break before heading out on summer plans. Now, I know that you are wondering what that movie has anything to do with our Classical Asian Theaters class.  Can tell you that the movie is most definitely Western. There was no subtle feeling of everlasting beauty, or small, purposeful movements to express the entire story. Though, I must say that they did get close with some barely noticeable tears in the actors eyes. Mainly, though, there was a lot of yelling, fighting, and thing blowing up. However, there was heart, something Guru always told us to look for in what we are watching. So, amongst all the fighting, I was able to find the heart, the “kokoro,” in the Avengers.

            Near the beginning of the movie (I promise I am not going to spoil anything) the villain had his usual “bow down before me speech.” This is very characteristic of superhero movies, and nothing really to bat an eye at. All the people around the villain kneeled, all but one elderly, German gentleman. This man was then taunted by the villain, laughed at for being a fool and disobeying. The villain then continued his speech about how he was the greatest villain the world had ever known, and that there had never been someone like him before. All the elderly German man had to say, while looking directly into the villain’s eyes, was that there is always someone like that villain, and there always will be. Clearly for the movie watcher, in context the man is talking about Hitler. Yet, the more you think about it, the more your mind runs through other historical “villains” and stories you have read. My mind ran back to the story we heard about earlier this year, a book I have read, the Ramayana.

            In case you might not remember, the Ramayana is a story about the perfect man, Rama, his wife, Sita, and the villain they go up against, Ravana. All throughout the story Rama is fighting demons and monsters, saving people and moving on. There was always another monster to fight, and always someone being hurt by another. It seems as though when he defeats Ravana that all the evil will end, that it will die along with the demon king. Yet, it does not. Rama has to go face further trials with his own people, an evil seed that affects him greatly. Even when evil falls, it will always rise again. It might not immediately be a villain rising to power, but evil always exists, evil in people’s actions and their hearts. A couple years after the end of the story another man like Ravana might rise, the balance kept between the good and evil in the world, dharma and adharma. Like the elderly German man said, “There is always someone like you.” Not even the perfect man, the perfect hero, can change that. It is a fact known all across the world, the heart of our stories and movies so long as we care to listen. Just something to think about.

Identity

“Increasingly I think one of the main functions of [stable identity] concepts is that they give us a good night’s rest… Around us, history is constantly breaking in unpredictable ways, but we, somehow, go on being the same.”

- Stuart Hall

            The first time Kabuki was ever explained to me, the person called it part of Japan’s national identity. At the time I did not necessarily understand what they meant by that. To me, a certain country could not have an “identity.” Each individual person within that country holds their own identity, who they are. Now, of course those identities come together to create the country itself, and how the world viewed it. So how could Kabuki, a theater form viewed as unrefined by the government during its inception in the Edo Era, determine Japan’s national identity? This is not a fate that the world has chosen for Japan, some fragment of an Orientalist power that still manages to change the perceptions on the East’s identity. I feel that an identity is something that you choose for yourself, and if a person can change theirs then so can a country. Japan chose Kabuki Theater as part of its core, allowed it to be part of the identity they still hold today.

            Kabuki was truly born during the Edo Era in Japan, a product of the merchant class. Though the government tried desperately to keep the merchant class out of Kyoto, Japan’s ancient capital, the merchants transformed the city. This was the era of geisha and festivals, the fantasy world people know Japan for today. Unable to go to the refined Noh Theater, the merchants developed Kabuki Theater for the middle and lower classes of society. Originally Kabuki had various parts, each performance playing out like a festival with music and acrobatics. Eventually Kabuki was shut down for using women as actors. Refusing to be deterred, Kabuki opened back up with male-only casts. Over time the theater turned into the refined form known today.

            The main purpose of Kabuki is to capture and produce emotion. It captures the true heart of Japan by focusing on the hidden beauty with defined, purposeful movements. The sense of fleeting emotions is a prominent feeling among the Japanese people. Bittersweet emotion over fading beauty; the memory of cherry blossoms after the petals have faded. To enjoy things as they are, to move with the seasons and times, Kabuki encompasses this for Japan. Acting a reminder of the Japanese culture, it is as art form for the people, fought for and adopted over time. The theater form acts as a piece of the heart Japan seems to crave. Though it can be grounded as a difference between East and West, it is the reminder within Japan of the search for hidden beauty, of simplicity from one of the most prosperous times in Japanese history.

Strange familiarities: Bunraku Plays and American Puppets

Learning about classical and modern Asian theatres has been a very insightful experience for me. And the exposures particularly valuable because it required me to consciously remind myself of my immersion in something completely foreign. I had to be aware of judgmental criticism (however silently contained within the parameters of my head it might have been). However, when we began our discussion on Japanese puppets, I lost track of my obligation to objectivity and allowed my thoughts to drift into a mental see of criticisms.

I was mostly taken away by the deceptive novelty of puppets as a theatrical element. So troubled by inability to understand how any audience can be so engaged by hand puppets, and mostly by my inability to remain in a state of objectivity, I was determined to find a way to help me understand. So as soon as this mission was declared, I immediately remembered my childhood being FILLED with puppets: The Muppets, Sesame Street, The Big Comfy Couch’s, and Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood and so many others.

I began comparing the elements of Japanese puppets and American puppets by watching the documentary called “On Being Elmo: A Puppeteer’s Journey”. This is a documentary about Kevin Clash’s life and his journey as a puppetter. His characters include Elmo, Hoots the Owl, and Baby Natasha. This documentary illuminates the emotional ties that puppeteers develop with their characters, and the connection to Bunraku was immiediately drawn.

Bunraku is one of Japan’s many traditional theatrical arts and is believed to be one of the most developed forms of puppeteering. One of the most important roles in these plays is the Joruri. The Joruri is the combined role of changing and playing the Shamsien. The Joruri is responsible for telling the story by chanting out the narration for the puppeteers. The Joruri, as we have learned, generally becomes very attached to the characters of the puppets. This emotional connection was difficult to understand and seemed like a strange concept, but watching Clash’s journey as a puppeteer helped put it into perspective.

There are so many more elements of Asian theatre that are also rooted in Western theatre. Understanding the different approaches to entertainment, theatre, and even just expression is so helpful for understanding our own Western perceptions on theatre. The exposure to Bunraku as a highly treasured and traditional form of entertainment in Japan helped me see how puppets are also important in American culture.

Psychic Trauma

“The colonized subject realizes that he can never attain the

whiteness he has been taught to desire.”

- Franz Fanon

            I find it highly interesting that, as far as I can tell from being in class, Asian theater does not show any psychic trauma from the West. Psychic trauma happens when an outside force, a colonial power or some other power, comes in and makes the “lower” power want something. Psychic trauma was common during the high point of colonialism in the world. People would begin to believe that despite how much money or power they had the only way they could be truly worth something is if they were white. Well, it is obvious that it is impossible to change your natural heritage; no matter what you do you will always have the same blood running through your veins. So, the psychic trauma came from the inability to get what the “higher” power says that the colonized peoples should want, what they ended up wanting. Instead they become as western as possible, with their ways of dress, their homes, and their mode of transportation, all to try and make up for the fact that they are not white. Now, the trauma is not always as traumatic as it may seem. Still, it can change a country.

            When the ports were opened in Japan by Commodore Perry this shock of needing to be Westernized, to be modernized, hit once more. Men wore suits and women wore dresses, moving away from the traditional sense of Japanese garb they once wore. Their houses changed, their lifestyle, and the things they ate all changed to become Western and modern. Yet, one thing that seemed to remain unchanged was Japanese theater. Yes, they adapted some Western plays into Kabuki, and new theater forms developed out of Western influence. Still, Noh, Kabuki, and Bunraku theaters all seem to be untouched. It seems that, despite all outside influences, the Japanese decided not to give up part of the heart of their culture. As far as I can tell they saw no reason to change everything drastically. They allowed new forms to be made, but refused to change what they knew was good, what they new was purely theirs.

Zeami's aesthetics

Zeami talks about Noh containing five different aesthetic features.  These include monomane, hana, kokoro, yugen, and rojaku.  Monomane is about imitation of the object or the character.  In most cases I believe it is to do impressions of other famous Japanese people.  Hana means the flower.  How does the flower bloom, or how do we achieve the flower?  It is through the relationship or interaction between the actor and the audience.  What the actor does on stage for the audience and what the audience feels becomes one, and that is how the flower forms.  This is the very objective of Noh training.  The hana can be compared to Rasa and Bahava.  Kokoro means true heart.  It is mind and body wise, and the conscious and subconscious.  It is the purest sense of you as a human being.  It is to be naked or to be raw down to your soul, spirit, and consciousness.  It is also what configures in making the Hana bloom.  Yugen means mysterious beauty.  While watching Noh they say that you can either be more foucsed on the kokoro or on the yugen, but they are usually contrasting.  Yugen is identified in a more literal sense.  It is always hidden or underneath, and it involves the audience because they have to participate and search for it.  Rojaku is about the beauty and elegance of old age.  This refers to when a character is old, but they were once a solider or a beautiful princess, but cannot lean on their valor or elegance anymore.  It is that character's greatest challenge to achieve that beauty when they are now old and decrepit.  It is a very crucial challenge to be able to elicit beauty from old age.
     Zeami talks about these five elements being present in Noh performances.  This goes back to reflect on the fact that Zeami had schooling and was a philosophy student.  I think that it is his educational background that made him seek to include these elements in Noh.  It makes for a deeper performance, and draws the audience in, engaging them, allowing them to search for these hidden elements.

Kabuki

There are many different elements that go into Kabuki.  We learned mainly about the aragoto, wagota, onnagata, mie, ropo, and hanamichi to name a few.  It is important to learn the different elements to establish the differences between Kabuki and any other type of Asian theatre, including Noh and Bunraku.  There is always an aragoto, who is the oversized, supernatural, rough hero.  This person can also be seen wearing either puffed up or stuffed attire.  Then there is the wagota, which is the opposite.  The wagota is the more realistic, soft character, who does not wear puffed up clothes.  Although women used to participate in Kabuki and played both male and female roles, they were soon banned, creating only room for males to participate.  When males played a female role they were called onnagatas.  I think that playing an onnagata would be extremely difficult.  I think that for male roles it easier to relate to and play the part.  But most males do not know what it is like to be a female, and therefore it would probably be a little more difficult and require more training in order to perfect that certain female role.  I personally do not like the fact that males play female roles.  We talked about it in class and it make some of the girls in class a little bothered I think because they felt like it made women like inferior.  I however feel as though men should not play female parts because for a viewer such as myself its comes off a little weird.  You are supposed to marvel at a woman's beauty and elegance and you can't really do that when you are looking at a man dressed in women's clothes...maybe that's just me!  But anyways, the mie is also important in Kabuki.  The actor is supposed to hold the characteristic pose, in order to establish his character.  In most cases the actor just opens his eyes really wide.  But if they were to show that they were angry or annoyed they would open their eyes wide and cross them.  The roppo is the technique of stage exit or entrance.  You can float in, as if you were a ghost or ghost like character, or use the technique of swagger, or catpaw.  The hanamichi is the bridge in Kabuki.  The bridge goes out into the audience and allows the audience to feel more involved in the performance.  The actors perform on the bridge as well.  There are also trap doors which allow actors to appear or disappear which makes the performance more draw dropping and exciting.

Zeami and Kan'ami

The relationship and impact that both Kan'ami and Zeami had on Asian theatre I think are incredibly substantial.  Kan'ami was a Noh actor, author, and musician.  He founded a theatre group and later opened his own school.  He ended up performing for an audience where a shogun was in attendance and fell in love with the dance.  This shogun became Kan'ami's patron and supported Kan'ami and all his endeavors.  When Zeami was born Kan'ami showed him all there was to acting.  He had a skill for it and even impressed a shogun as well.  Later that shogun helped to fund Zeami in taking Classical Literature and Philosophy classes.  He was able to incorporate his learning of the subject matters into his writings and teachings.  When his father died he took over the theatre group and was able to help take Noh to a whole new level.
     I think that the story of Kan'ami and Zeami just goes to show how important both tradition and innovation can be.  Zeami was able to follow in his father's footsteps and I am sure that this made him very proud.  Zeami was born with the acting jeans and Kan'ami was able and willing to spend the time to help foster those skills.  Passing down information and skill sets are extremely important to the survival of performances like Noh.  Not only that but Zeami was able to incorporate his own research and ideas into the traditional art form of Noh that his father had originally taught.  I think that that shows great initiative on Zeami's part, to feel the need and desire to learn as much as he can and then put that into what he already knew about Noh.  He helped to make Noh grow and I think become a more advanced art form.  And then again going back to the relationship that Kan'ami and Zeami had I think that it was a necessity to have both of them involved in the creation and evolution of Noh.  It shows a sense of togetherness and family first attitude.  It reflects on Asian culture itself as well, in that when you have a passion for the arts you must help that passion blossom.  The dedication to Noh that the two of them shared shows how much the theatre meant to them and how it was a lifestyle rather than just a hobby.  And that can be said for a lot of people who performed in the Asian theaters.