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I was deliciously overloaded with things traditionally Japanese this weekend.
On Saturday, I attended the National Theater of Japan’s production of the Kabuki Play Yoshitsune Senbon-Zakura, an absolutely delightful piece on the subject of filiality and devotion. When the same man shows up twice in rapid succession at the hiding place of early-medieval hero Minamoto no Yoshitsune, he sets his lover Shizuka Gozen the task of uncovering the mystery. It turns out that one of the men is a fox in disguise, and that he, the fox, has been drawn to the place by his need to be reunited with his family, whose skins now adorn the facing of a prized drum in Shizuka Gozen’s possession. Moved by this undaunted family love, and saddened by the rifts existing within his own family, Yoshitsune gives the drum to the fox as a gift--much to the mischievous creature’s delight.
This play was spectacular and the presentation absolutely riveting, with the emotional highs highlighted by the classically Japanese theatrical format of swift and penetrating denouement. The actor portraying the fox, in particular, gave a performance so stunning that I was moved more than once to tears. In his exhibition of the fox’s need to be near the drum, he seemed to transcend the emotions of love and devotion that are themselves so strikingly powerful.
After the play, myself and a few friends discussed the experience over coffee at a nearby shop, and then I headed home.
Sunday, after a morning of study, I met up with B. at the Yasukuni Jinja for their annual Mitama Matsuri (Soul Festival). I’d been to the shrine before, of course, but had never seen it like this. Practically the entire shrine was in a cacophony of color, with painted lanterns, streamers, and booths arrayed all along the footpaths, avenues, and squares. We had yakisoba for lunch and shaved ice for dessert. We’d passed a shaved ice booth with particularly friendly proprietors on our way down to lunch, but had resisted the urge to purchase and thus ruin our appetites. After we finished eating, I insisted we go back to the same booth and buy our shaved ices there. The proprietors were delighted to see us back as promised, and spent a couple minutes asking us where we were from, complimenting us on our Japanese, and admonishing us to enjoy the cultural array of Yasukuni.
The shaved ice was as manna from heaven as it was a particularly sunny day, and I had begun to feel as if I were wilting under the brutal glare of daylight. With the shaved ice consumed, we headed for the main shrine where I took a couple of minutes to pray for the loved ones who have recently left me as well as those who have left others close to me. Yasukuni Jinja is dedicated most particularly to the souls of Japan’s soldiers (somewhat controversially, I might add), but the Mitama Matsuri is a time for people to remember and venerate all of their lost loved ones. I thought most particularly of my uncle, who I had dreamed of the night before and whose loss is never far from my thoughts.
The festival held many delights. A number of the lanterns on display were hand-painted in stunning fashion, and the nearby outdoor Noh theater showcased dances, displays of kendo, and other marvels. In the afternoon, in the main shrine complex, a taiko group gave a spectacular performance and was blessed by the head priest of the shrine.
At last, we made our way to the gorgeous and tranquil koi pond at the back of the shrine… a spot so saturated in nature that you’d never know, sitting there, that a mega-metropolis lies just on the other side of the gentling swaying trees. I felt that I could sit there forever in the growing twilight, but I knew that the demands of study would soon call me home. On our way back to the train station, we wandered back through the shrine, gazing at the now-lighted lanterns’ new-found glory.
It was a lovely weekend.
On Saturday, I attended the National Theater of Japan’s production of the Kabuki Play Yoshitsune Senbon-Zakura, an absolutely delightful piece on the subject of filiality and devotion. When the same man shows up twice in rapid succession at the hiding place of early-medieval hero Minamoto no Yoshitsune, he sets his lover Shizuka Gozen the task of uncovering the mystery. It turns out that one of the men is a fox in disguise, and that he, the fox, has been drawn to the place by his need to be reunited with his family, whose skins now adorn the facing of a prized drum in Shizuka Gozen’s possession. Moved by this undaunted family love, and saddened by the rifts existing within his own family, Yoshitsune gives the drum to the fox as a gift--much to the mischievous creature’s delight.
This play was spectacular and the presentation absolutely riveting, with the emotional highs highlighted by the classically Japanese theatrical format of swift and penetrating denouement. The actor portraying the fox, in particular, gave a performance so stunning that I was moved more than once to tears. In his exhibition of the fox’s need to be near the drum, he seemed to transcend the emotions of love and devotion that are themselves so strikingly powerful.
After the play, myself and a few friends discussed the experience over coffee at a nearby shop, and then I headed home.
Sunday, after a morning of study, I met up with B. at the Yasukuni Jinja for their annual Mitama Matsuri (Soul Festival). I’d been to the shrine before, of course, but had never seen it like this. Practically the entire shrine was in a cacophony of color, with painted lanterns, streamers, and booths arrayed all along the footpaths, avenues, and squares. We had yakisoba for lunch and shaved ice for dessert. We’d passed a shaved ice booth with particularly friendly proprietors on our way down to lunch, but had resisted the urge to purchase and thus ruin our appetites. After we finished eating, I insisted we go back to the same booth and buy our shaved ices there. The proprietors were delighted to see us back as promised, and spent a couple minutes asking us where we were from, complimenting us on our Japanese, and admonishing us to enjoy the cultural array of Yasukuni.
The shaved ice was as manna from heaven as it was a particularly sunny day, and I had begun to feel as if I were wilting under the brutal glare of daylight. With the shaved ice consumed, we headed for the main shrine where I took a couple of minutes to pray for the loved ones who have recently left me as well as those who have left others close to me. Yasukuni Jinja is dedicated most particularly to the souls of Japan’s soldiers (somewhat controversially, I might add), but the Mitama Matsuri is a time for people to remember and venerate all of their lost loved ones. I thought most particularly of my uncle, who I had dreamed of the night before and whose loss is never far from my thoughts.
The festival held many delights. A number of the lanterns on display were hand-painted in stunning fashion, and the nearby outdoor Noh theater showcased dances, displays of kendo, and other marvels. In the afternoon, in the main shrine complex, a taiko group gave a spectacular performance and was blessed by the head priest of the shrine.
At last, we made our way to the gorgeous and tranquil koi pond at the back of the shrine… a spot so saturated in nature that you’d never know, sitting there, that a mega-metropolis lies just on the other side of the gentling swaying trees. I felt that I could sit there forever in the growing twilight, but I knew that the demands of study would soon call me home. On our way back to the train station, we wandered back through the shrine, gazing at the now-lighted lanterns’ new-found glory.
It was a lovely weekend.
