It could be the fact that I had a test, presentation, three hour marathon class, and paper due today with only a one hour lunch break, but I would more likely attribute my drooping eyelids and sagging head to tonight’s “takigi” or firelight Noh performance.
For those who don’t know, Noh Theater, or Japan’s surefire cure for insomnia, is an ancient performance art form in which actors wear intricate masks (so that no one can see them yawning on stage) and move at a pace similar to that of a wheel-chair bound paraplegic escaping from a pit of quicksand.
Our Takigi Noh performance took place at the nearby Heian Jingu (only a ten minute walk from the center). We arrived very early (with all my fellow religion class members in tow) so that we could queue up in line in the blazing Kyoto sun and smile at the friendly program vendors who passed by for the next half hour while we waited outside. Once inside the gate, I quickly found my seat, Row D - Seat #14 on the wooden plank bench next to a Japanese man who obviously didn’t shave in front of a reflective surface this morning, as evidenced by the unsightly patches of black stubble scatter-plotted across his face.
The VIP seating close to the stage was nothing more than purple cushions on the cement. I looked for plank-side concession delivery but that was nowhere to be found. Equally lacking was the wasabi-cheese nachos and foam fingers that said “Noh #1!” on them.
What followed were four Noh Plays (two for me). Try as I might, within 15 minutes, the chloroform soaked rag of Noh Theater smothered my nose and mouth and brought me into a state of blissful sleep. When I awoke, it was the conclusion of the first play and the lightning god had already descended. A lightning god who takes one step per minute, pausing at every step to adjust the inclination of his head is an insult to lightning bolts everywhere.
The next play was evidently about the joys of turning your torso 90 degrees while keeping your feet glued to the floor. The young female character in the play literally stood in the middle of the stage for a good 30 minutes, opening and closing her fan. I wish I could have properly enjoyed the climax of the play, where she raised one leg and then put it back down, but I was busily punching myself in the side in an effort to stop the plank-induced searing pain wreaking havok on my lower back.
The narrated stories of Noh plays are unintelligible even to Japanese people because they are sung in classical Japanese in a voice that sounds like running a weed-whacker into the driveway gravel. We were provided with an English translation of the plays, but it soon became too dark to read the summaries and follow along with the story.
The third play was by far the best out of the bunch (the lesser of four evils would be more accurate). This play was spoken in near gendaigo (modern Japanese) so I could understand most of it. It was also only 10 minutes long! SCORE! The play was about two men who hate their wives, so they leave for the woods, but upon going into the woods find a rock formation that reminds them of their wives, so they get homesick and decide to return to their families. Now there's great writing! Annie Prolux eat your heart out!
The fourth and final Noh play had the best music of the bunch. Noh music is created by three different tone drums that beat in succession along with a squealing, banshee flute, and the chants of the musicians which usually take the form of “Zeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee – YOH! Uh, YOH, Zeeeeeeeeeeeeee YOH!” (ad nausea).
The syncopated rhythm in the beginning of the play got into a nice groove, I was rapping to it with lyrics such as; “I hate Noh, I wanna go, this is a horrible show. Fo’ sho’!” The conclusion of the play had the fox god Inari dance around the stage after presenting the protagonist with a magical sword. This was the only point of the evening where the pace actually quickened enough to simulate anything other than a slow painful death. The frantic drum beats allowed the fox god to bust his moves; flailing his arms like an awkward freshman at a frat party, and twirling around in circles to the syncopated beat.
I was cracking myself up by chanting, “Go Foxie, it’s yo' birthday, Go Foxie, it’s yo' birthday!”
Walking back to the center I was already creating a metal image of my Noh Theater public service announcement: Light’s up -- a sleeping and drooling face -- cut to masked female character raising her leg -- black out -- then the words, “Just say Noh!”
To be fair the main reason to attend Takiji Noh as opposed to a housed theater is for the “funiki” or atmosphere. The torch lit glow on the stage and surrounding Hein Jingu buildings was very beautiful. Even more beautiful though was sitting down on the couch in my room to write this post, instead of a wooden plank.
B.E.W.
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