Commemorative noh performances

Old wine, champagne bottles: Commemorative noh performances in Japan

I recently attended the name-taking commemorative performance of Shigeyama Doji in Tokyo, as he leaped his father to take his late grandfather's name Sennojo. And a 30-year anniversary of the Ohtsuki Noh Stage by an active Kanze School noh performer Otsuki Bunzo in Osaka led me thinking about the role of commemoration as self-generating power source vital to the traditional arts for a variety of reasons. What follows are some general thoughts on the issue of 記念　（memorial) performances in noh.

Commemorative performances in Japan are given often in the traditional theatre world. These serve multiple, mutually enforcing purposes, acting in much the same way that Corinthian pillars and marble floors, high ceilings with stained glass and natural light make churches and commercial banks symbols of god-given, stability and permanence. By dusting off rare plays and versions, famous names from the ancestral closet, or bringing together famous actors with long pedigrees and “living national treasure status”, noh performers display their heritage and school power.

School power derives from the generations of past and present performers aligned in the iemoto system of grandmaster hierarchy, the diligence and talent of it members, and the extension of their power to gain amateur and disciples and fans to actually come to their shows. CNP—if carried out successfully— are self-fulfilling acts enforcing and displaying the power and continuity of the family, the school, the sponsoring theatre, and the noh genre itself. CNP bring famous actors together in a rare play commemorating an ancester’s death, rebuilding of a theatre, or an individual actor’s challenging a particularly difficult piece, or celebrating the anniversary of his graduation to independent status, or a local or national award. Spectators loyal to the family of players—“I saw his grandfather and father’s debut in that play!”, or drawn to the stellar cast, the rarity of the play, or sense of occasion--

Or they may be less frequent fans drawn to or pressured by the unusual commotion of the promotion. Announcements and Leaflets are printed far in advance. Normally single-sheet, sometimes one-sided flyers with plays’ and actors’ names, for CNP these may feature photographs of the performers, two-sided color printing, and even a four-page design. Special features of the performance may be announced in gold or with arrows pointing, or a border imitating an award. Tickets are sold in advance, with preference sometimes to members. Actors in the immediate family may have a quota of tickets to sell, and offer them forcefully to their disciples, some of whom then have a further quota obligation. Sometimes teachers offer a discount, lessening their own profit margin but giving disciples the feeling of insider privilege.

Pressuring performers to sell tickets all the way down the pyramid insures a full house, but also that the art must find new spectators outside the usual suspects—disciples cannot sell to each other, so must look to friends, family members, students, or other fellow hobbyists of different genres to support their teachers. One kyogen actor not born into the family felt he had to visit 3 or 4 bars in the downtown area each evening, leaving a few tickets with friendly managers in hopes of gaining regular patrons’ support for his self-produced shows. Most flyers are desperate to gain students who, if “hooked,” may continue their fandom for decades; prices may be 1/3 or less than the full-price tickets.

Like the “campaigns” that go on constantly with the same goods and services in Japanese department stores or telephone mobile companies, these CNP are attempts to dress up the unchanging repertoire of the antique plays in new ways to appeal to contemporary audiences. There are numerous ways that the repertoire can be exploited to that end. The use of a rare mask, a play that “has not been seen for fifty years”, a kogaki “variant”, unusual pairing of “three generations of performers” or “two living national treasures,” “actors from east and west”, or plays gathered on themes of “lost warriors” and “unrequited love”. Normally the actors in the main pieces, but also the shimai (short dances) or ichou (single drummer and singer) will be prominent actors: parents, teachers, or heads of school of the featured performers. Even the koken stage assistants will often be senior family members, while the chorus and musicians wear auspicious kataginu shoulder-wings, a constant reminder of the centuries-old ritual historic associations with the samurai class and special nature of the occasion.

t is standard practice to offer a special tribute performance remembering a parent’s 1^st, 3^rd, 7^th, and 17^th et al. death anniversary. On entering the lobby of the theatre, festooned with bouquets from well-wishers, one may see a photograph of the ancestor being commemorated, and can offer incense. Plays performed might include their favorites. Overheard conversations in the audience concern comparisons of different generations of the same family, with the inevitable agreement that the art is falling off (it seems that this disparaging of current training and discipline, too, is a tradition, found in each generation going back to the Meiji Era). On leaving, fans might offer their well-wishes to wifes and children, who stand at the entrance, often offering them souvenir sweets or an actor’s crest on a tenugui towel. For actors, a grand party following the performance, is a requisite “musubi” tying up of the event, a chance to hear anecdotes about one’s ancestors, and get critical commentary from a variety of performers. And of course to plot the next big performance.