Iga Rutkowska's essay was delivered at an international conference on Japanese theatre held in Tel Aviv, Israel, in November 2018. It is the first such essay by an invited contributor to be posted on Kabuki Woogie. If you or someone you know has a kabuki-related conference paper they'd wish to be considered for posting on this blog, please let me know. Samuel L. Leiter
Translated by Damon Pytlik
(note: please ignore formatting issues, such as line spacing and font size, caused by the blog program.)
There
are several words in Japanese that are used for amateur kabuki theatre. jishibai, jikabuki, inaka shibai, inaka
kabuki, and nōson kabuki. Each literally means something a little bit
different but generally all refer to one cultural phenomenon, kabuki theatre
with entirely amateur actors.
 |
| Hinoemata’s Old Stage, Meeden, morning, waiting for matsuri guests to tread them with festive rice before evening spectacle, Hinoemata, May 13, 2010. |
Shibai, itself,
is a very interesting term. Its etymology is similar to that of “theatre” used
in European languages. Much like the Greek teatron,
shibai at first denoted a space for the audience—a patch of grass in
front of a stage. The prefix ji added to the word shibai literally
means “soil,” “ground,” or “earth,” but also refers to anything “local” or “of
this place,” as does inaka or “countryside.”
Nōson is used in academic
publications, mainly from the 70s and 80s. I don’t use it in my studies because
none of the local communities do.
Jishibai is a term that originated during the Edo period (1603-1868), and was
used in reference to amateur kabuki
and ningyō jōruri (as ningyō jishibai, local puppet
theatre). Nevertheless, I decided to use the term “amateur theatres” and not
“local theatres” as an English equivalent to jishibai, contrary to the
literal meaning of the term. Although this amateur aspect is not obvious in any
of the Japanese terms, and “amateur
kabuki” does not convey the crucial “local” aspect of jishibai,
it allows a clear distinction from professional theatre. What’s more, translating
jishibai as “local,” “provincial,” or “rural” additionally narrows its meaning, because
jishibai theatres perform at festivals in cities as well, albeit outside
of the mainstream, professional theatre.
 |
| Meeden, theatre building in Hinoemata, just before spectacle, Hinoemata, May 13, 2010. |
It’s really hard to state when the jishibai
phenomenon started. I think the best way to talk about its history is to claim,
after Moriya Takeshi, that kabuki
stages were present in rural areas from the time this type of theatre itself began,
i.e., the beginning of the 17th century (Moriya 1988, 36). According to Gunji
Masakatsu, during the 17th century kabuki
was more popular than implied by the written sources (Gunji 1985, 38). Hattori
Yukio claims that lack of written records can be treated as a common feature of
amateur kabuki (Hattori 2007, 43-44).
Signs of the beginnings of rural kabuki
in many areas exist in oral records, in stories passed from generation to
generation. A number of tales reach even further back in time, sometimes even
to the Genroku era, the second half of the 17th century, the so-called Golden
Age of Edo culture (Hattori 2007, 43-44).
 |
| Rehearsal in Hinoemata, local Culture Center stage, Hinoemata, May 12, 2010. |
At the end of the 18th century, when the growth of kabuki in Edo was suppressing the development
of actors in Kyoto and Osaka, new centers began to emerge in places such as
Ise, Miyajima, Ōtsu, Sakai, and so on (Ikeyama 1997, 114-115). Some, like the Ise
theatre, began to take on importance from the viewpoint of rural amateur theatres.[3]
Hattori
and Gunji also agree that the development of such theatres took place during
the Kasei period (1804-1830) (Gunji 1985, 48; Hattori 2007, 40), which was
characterized by favorable economic conditions. This meant an increase of
consumption by the masses. Many peasants became more financially independent
and, like townspeople, started to travel. The reasons for traveling varied,
some of them based on selling products, others for pilgrimages to the sacred
shrines at Ise. Whatever the reason, travelers had a chance to watch kabuki.
With the improvement in economic conditions, they also wanted to see such entertainments
closer to home, as well as to provide tourist attractions (Hattori 2007, 46).
The period between the end of the 19th
century and the 1930s was the heyday for amateur theatres. Hattori Yukio even
stated that at the time there might not have been a place in Japan where local
communities did not, even if briefly, try to stage their own kabuki or at least try to invite
traveling troupes (Hattori 2007, 47). The scholars who have studied this period
are not limited only to written sources, as many original structures from that time
remained standing into the 1960s.
During World War II, a vast majority of
jishibai had to be suspended, never afterward returning to their pre-war
condition. There were also many that never practiced again. But there were also
those on which the war took a toll, abetted by so many local men leaving their
villages. The theatres in Kuromori and Hinoemata, the focus of my research, are
examples. Their history will be described later.
Today, amateur kabuki can be seen on
approximately 200 stages throughout Japan. Where traditional kabuki performances have been halted
for some time, the stages usually have reopened with children’s productions (kodomo
kabuki).
Amateur kabuki theatres that can be
seen in Japan nowadays usually date back about 250 years, involve local people,
and perform mostly during local religious festivals. It is also important to
remember that kabuki in rural areas was treated, and is treated today, as an
offering to the guardian deities–hōnō
kabuki, which further increases the importance of theatre in their
communities.
On the other hand, we cannot forget its touristic character, even
in Edo period. As proof, we can point
to a play by Tsuruya Nanboku IV, one of the greatest kabuki playwrights, written in 1827, Hitoritabi
gojūsan tsugi (Traveling Alone to
the Fifty-three Stations). In it, the protagonists, who are traveling
back from Suruga to Edo, learn about local jishibai. According to
Hattori, the fact that Nanboku’s text mentions amateur kabuki signifies that
many people in larger cities were interested in local theatre, which at that
time were at the height of their popularity and development (Hattori 2007,
40).
Especially important here is Hattori’s
statement that, from the very creation of particular stages, it is difficult to
consider jishibai as a cohesive phenomenon because the shape of amateur kabuki depended on local traditions
and expectations, and also on circumstances that differed in various regions. Can
we, however, consider Edo-period professional kabuki a cohesive phenomenon? Shimazaki
Satoko, for example, states straight out, that kabuki premodern kabuki (before
the late 19th century) was more regional than national. “Kabuki was always site
specific until drastic measures were taken in modern times to unify the
different local traditions” (Shimazaki 2016, 27).
Research into kabuki’s history, from
the early 17th century to modern times, reveals that its unification and development
as a cultural monolith is a product of the Meiji (1868-1912) and post-Meiji
periods. The first reason would be the domination of textual studies; the
second would be the need to form a specific vision of theatre: “national,”
based on Western models during Meiji period, and “classical” after World War II,
from 1947. I find these crucial for all projects aiming to find the roots and
“true” tradition of kabuki.
Premodern kabuki was, first of all, a
contemporary theatre. By “contemporary” I mean contemporary with the reality of
the Edo and Meiji periods. It remained such 1947, when, largely for political
reasons, kabuki became a classical theatre (see Brandon 2008). Why is this so
important for my paper?
My research has discovered certain
trends in Japanese studies of jishibai.
I had hoped that, in the longstanding, sometimes geographically isolated, local
traditions of amateur troupes, Japanese theatre historians would be able to
find some Edo-period kabuki techniques, or, at least, their roots. If we look at
jishibai as sources of traditional
kabuki techniques, we might suppose that something we could call a real kabuki
exists. I also assumed that local cultures (whatever that might be) were
fossilized and unchanging, simply preserving tradition. This, obviously, is not
true.
Before I try to discuss the problem
mentioned in my title, I would like to present two examples of amateur kabuki
theatre: Kuromori Kabuki. from Sakata City, Yamagata Prefecture, and Hinoemata
Kabuki from Fukushima Prefecture, focusing on their history and trends.
Kuromori is a village in the Tohoku
region, on the coastal plains near the Sea of Japan, in the northwest corner of
Yamagata Prefecture. As an administrative unit, the village ceased to exist in
1889 and the toponym Kuromori is not even preserved in the addresses of locations
situated in the former village. However, the name Kuromori has been a customary
appellation, well-known and established locally, and mentioned in local studies
and literature. This name is deeply rooted in local tradition and is important
for those identifying as “born in Kuromori,” or who are “from Kuromori.”
Kuromori
kabuki is one of the last remaining examples of setchū kabuki (snowtime kabuki). For over 200 years, the village
has been hosting the Koshōgatsu (Little New Year, end of New Year season)
performances,[4] which nowadays falls on February 15 and 17 (but only in
Kuromori; according to the Japanese calendar it’s January 15).[5] The Enbujō,
which is the building containing the stage and serves as a meeting venue and rehearsal
space, is on the grounds of a local Shinto shrine, Hie Jinja. The performances,
as well as their preparations, are overseen by a group called Saidō Renchū
(Brotherhood of the God Sai),[6] which also has been supported since 1956 by the
Kuromori Kabuki Hozonkai (Association for the Preservation of Kuromori Kabuki
Tradition). In 1996 Kuromori Kabuki was designated an Important Intangible Folk
Cultural Property of Japan (mukei minzoku
bunkazai).
Kuromori kabuki, for
many reasons, is an outstanding example of amateur theatre, but perhaps most
important is its very close relation to the annual rites of local Hie shrine. I
must also mention that female roles in Kuromori kabuki are played by male
actors, onnagata. Its scenography is made
to order before every performance and the repertoire is extensive. According to
local sources, the performance tradition dates back to around 1735 and is
closely related to masks carved by a community member.
In a local chronicle, we
read:
The grandfather of
Mokuzaemon, a descendant of Shōgun Tamura,[7] had traveled widely through
many lands, finally reaching these, where he settled. With him, he brought two
masks of old men, Okina and Sanbasō. Some time ago the masks rotted. On the
night of the third day of the third month of the twentieth year of Kyōhō (1735),
the honorable Yosaku, known at the time as Yokichi, had a revelation in his
dream, after which he carved new masks” (Sakatashi Kyōiku Iinkai, 2003: 74).[8]
Gapposhu, a detailed account
of events connected to the unwanted exchange of provincial daimyō in
1840,[9] reports
that Kuromori villagers promised that, if Sakai Tadakata remained the lord of
their territory, they would annually offer a Sanbasō dance and kabuki performance to the deity. And
it was so; the deity answered their pleas. On February 5, 1841, Kuromori
dwellers performed ablutions in the nearby Ōgawa river. The next day, after
offering kagura dancing before the
pavilion enshrining the local temple’s guardian deity, they offered a Sanbasō dance
and kabuki.
The kabuki performance was Chūshinkan
juzō (Statue of a Living Person as
a Proof of the Subjects’ Loyalty); it was a modified version of one of
the most famous puppet and kabuki
plays, Kanadehon Chūshingura (The Treasury of Loyal Retainers), but minus its most tragic and
gruesome themes. None of the 47 samurai commits suicide, it being believed that
such sad events did not comply with the occasion. This proves that, in 1841, what
we call kabuki was already commonly known. What’s more, the local community
actually adapted its conventions.
As the sources confirm, the Shōnai
region had many stages and performances, which were usually presented in
connection with the festival of the deity called Sai. Researchers agree that
Kuromori kabuki is a remnant of this deity’s worship.
 |
| Getting ready in Hinoemata’s tokoyama, Hinoemata, May 13, 2010. |
Saidōchō, a chronicle cum account book of Saidō Renchū continuously written
by the troupe leader (zachō) since
1850, is a great source for Kuromori kabuki history. Apart from finances, it
provides information about things like the Tokyo hospitalization in 1906 of
wigmaker Satō Fujitarō because of injuries he suffered in the Russo-Japanese
War (1904-1905). There’s also mention of a performance held on November 16, 1928,
in honor of the Shōwa emperor’s enthronement.
 |
| Getting ready in Hinoemata’s tokoyama, Hinoemata, May 13, 2010. |
Very interesting from the viewpoint
of today’s Kuromori kabuki is
that the theatre continued performing during World War II. It operated despite
difficult conditions and a lack of actors. Kabuki was important because of religious reasons. There were
special wartime performances held for Japanese soldiers and for the wellbeing
of the local theatre (Sakatashi Kyōiku Iinkai, 2003).[10]
 |
| Getting ready in Hinoemata’s tokoyama, Hinoemata, May 13, 2010. |
However, we cannot find in Saidōchō
details about performances. For
these, we only have the videos recorded over a period of 10 or more years. There
are also very few notes on their kabuki sources, such as teachers, productions
seen, and so on.
Hinoemata is a small
village, located in the Minami Aizu region of Fukushima Prefecture, deep in the
mountains on the border of Oze National Park. Tourism provides the main source
of income for most of the locals, which means many such people can no longer
watch theatrical productions as they’re too busy preparing meals for their guests.
This is not so in Kuromori.
Hinoemata kabuki can
boast 270 years of tradition. Currently, there are four productions a year.
Two, on May 12 and August 18, take place during local festivals, as hōnō kabuki for the tutelary deity. The
other two are staged for the benefit of tourists visiting Oze National Park.
The
producing troupe is Chiba no Ie Hana Koma-za, a.k.a. Hanakoma-za. There are no onnagata, female roles being played by
women; there also are neither a tayū singer
nor shamisen player (recordings are
used). The group uses an old temple stage, Meeden, and a new one in a large
hall on the top floor of the local culture center. Sadly, despite years of
effort, Hinoemata kabuki has
yet to be recognized as an Important Intangible Folk Cultural Property of
Fukushima Prefecture, probably because it uses tape recordings. On the other
hand, in 1976, the old Meeden stage was classified as a Tangible Folk Cultural
Property of Fukushima Prefecture.
Studies of Hinoemata kabuki and stories pertaining to its
origins claim that the oldest mentions of kabuki hereabouts are from 1693 and can be found in the chronicles
of Shirakawa no Seki Province.[11] The local
daimyō, Matsudaira Yamato no kami,[12] was said to be a kabuki enthusiast, keen on watching kabuki as often as possible. It’s
probable that, at the time, the end of the 17th century, traveling troupes
started visiting the area (Kageyama, 1973). The Kasei era also witnessed kabuki
prosperity in Aizu-Wakamatsu, when the largest number of amateur theatres
operated in villages. As with Kuromori kabuki and jishibai as a whole,
this was not when such theatre began, although there are no documents to
confirm it.
Hinoemata kabuki
history, as present in local oral tradition, changes from generation to
generation. For example, stories told to Kageyama Masataka and his research
team in the 1970 and stories I heard in 2010 differ. One detail remains the
same:
From olden times there
has been a belief, deeply established in Japan, that everyone, at least once in
their lifetime, should make a pilgrimage to the Ise Shrine. Such pilgrimages
were certainly an occasion for the villagers of Hinoemata to see performances.
On their way back, they would stop in Edo, where there was an abundance of
small, wood stages. Those who enjoyed the experience would use every possible
occasion to see kabuki near Aizu. (Hinoemata
sonshi, 2006: 449)
This fragment from Hinoemata
sonshi (History of Hinoemata Village) can be found in almost all writings
about Hinoemata kabuki, as well as in tourist brochures and on websites.
There are however, two
questionable details in it. First of all, many authors of tourist brochures and
local publications about Hinoemata kabuki mention that their theatre represents
the pure, old, Edo acting style (see Yamaguchi, 1978); others note that the village’s
kabuki was created by locals returning from pilgrimages to Ise and holy places
near Kyoto and Osaka. It’s thus clear that the above, commonly cited passage,
is a simplified legend. If one takes into account the history of professional
kabuki, it becomes apparent that Hinoemata villagers didn’t need to travel to Ise
or Edo to see kabuki since, in the mid-18th century they were probably presented
everywhere.
While it’s possible that Edo kabuki had little influence on
Hinoemata kabuki, it’s also possible that villagers saw Edo performances. The
important question is: “So what?”
According to local
stories, kabuki was a substitute for the older kagura dances (Kageyama 1978). We know that, in the beginning,
kabuki was mostly a form of entertainment for young community members, who, over
time, started staging performances during a local festival. What was the basis
of their acting techniques: performances they’d seen, big city rumors, actors,
prints, illustrated posters? Based on a conversation I had with troupe member
Hoshi Chōichi, I’d conclude that earlier kabuki had more room for improvising than
that of today, and that less attention was placed on costumes, wigs, and decor.[13]
In contrast to
Kuromori kabuki, we have some information about local kabuki practice. At the
beginning of the 20th century, Tadami no Torashige, a choreographer (furitsukeshi),[14] began visiting Hinoemata,
presumably spending whole winters there providing local actors with advice and
lessons. He himself couldn’t become an actor because of speech problems but he
was a great teacher of stage movement (Kageyama 1978). In the 1920s, Onoe Kikue,
from Kuroiso, Tochigi Prefecture, visited Hinoemata as a seasonal worker and worked
with locals over an extended period. He was a provincial actor of a then fairly
new type of theatre, shinpa.[15]
At the beginning of
the 20th century, Hinoemata kabuki had a well-established reputation as a
provincial theatre, which not only drew audiences to the village but was also
turned it into a kaishibai (“show for
sale”). This means that it could generate income by performing elsewhere on
demand (Kageyama 1978).
These facts contrast with
the image of Hinoemata kabuki presented nowadays in local publications where it’s
portrayed as pure Edo-period kabuki, preserved thanks to the village’s
isolation and the strong ties of local people to tradition. Some even eagerly
point out that only in Hinoemata can you see such an old and traditional
kabuki, and listen to Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s original texts just as back in the
early 18th century.
I believe the above-mentioned “commercial” activity of the
local troupe influenced the changes in staging the plays. Also, visiting
teachers had a similar influence. It’s probable that audience demands were
taken into account, as well. This, however, doesn’t mean that this local kabuki
isn’t original; it’s just not Edo original but Hinoemata original, and certain
performance methods (kata) can only
be seen here.
It’s important to note
that Kuromori kabuki never had a commercial character and, despite not using
such romantic appeals as being a “real Edo kabuki legend,” was closely related
to local religion throughout its existence. During my research in Hinoemata, I
made some observations regard it’s need to rebuild.
 |
| Hachirō monogatari, Hinoemata, May 12, 2010. |
|
After
World War II, Hinoemata kabuki experienced a crisis, one I believe it is still
trying to overcome: finding a reason to survive in the 21st century.
 |
| Hachirō monogatari, Hinoemata, May 12, 2010. |
|
What other sources provided
the techniques used in Hinoemata and Kuromori kabuki? Probably 90 percent of the
jishibai repertoire was gidayū kyōgen—plays originating in the
puppet theatre (ningyō jōruri), which
were especially popular in the Kamigata (Osaka, Kyoto) region in the second
half of the 18th century. These require the voice of a tayū singer/chanter, accompanied by a shamisen player. When such texts
are used for kabuki, actors speak the dialogue but the tayū offers the narrative sections.
 |
| Hachirō monogatari, Hinoemata, May 12, 2010. |
|
There are least two reasons for the popularity of
scenes from plays adapted from the puppet theatre among amateur kabuki troupes. First, during the
Edo period, ningyō jōruri plays
were the only ones published and commonly available. Additionally,
learning the narrative singing for puppet theatre was a popular pastime. Kabuki plays, however, were
not published, and acting courses for amateurs didn’t exist. The need for a tayū, which one
can consider a difficulty for amateurs (as it is today as well), gives such
plays a strict framework and makes them easier to act.
 |
| Kuromori tayu during rehearsal, Kuromori, February 13, 2010. |
The availability of jōruri texts was a boon but
it’s worth remembering that not all amateur actors in those days were literate.
Therefore, texts were less the basis for learning the parts than direct oral
transmission and observation.
 |
Rehearsal for Yoshitsune Senbon Zakura, "Toriimae" scene, Kuromori, February 13, 2010.
|
Another important reason behind the popularity of
texts borrowed from the puppets was nigyōburi, a highly
theatrical convention in which actors behaved like puppets.
It should be mentioned that the repertoires of
Kuromori and Hinoemata kabuki are quite different. A closer look will allow a
better understanding of this. Kuromori
kabuki is exceptionally diverse. An examination of the Saidōchō
reveals that performances of over 120 scenes from 60 different plays were
produced in Kuromori, and 17 others are mentioned. During the long history of Kuromori kabuki, the majority
of titles were produced only a couple of times, with gaps between productions ranging
from a few years to a few decades. This makes the village’s theatrical
traditions even more curious.
 |
| Bento preparations, Kuromori, February 14, 2010. |
 |
| Agowakare, the last meeting before next morning's show, in Enbujo, Kuromori Kabuki theatre building, Kuromori. February 14, 2010. |
Analysis of Saidōchō suggests an effort to
stage new titles as often as possible. This is corroborated by the fact that
over 40 appear in the chronicle only once or twice, with a minimum 20-year gap
before their subsequent production. Those performed the most were not given
more than 10 times. Nowadays, they don’t add new titles and it takes between
17-20 years for a play to be repeated. Obviously, one wonders, how do they
remember the play’s methods? All I can claim is that they do, somehow, remember,
through oral, visual and motor traditions. The furisha, responsible for movement, text interpretation, and so on
must remember. But he is aided by dozens of others that also remember.
 |
| Getting ready in Kuromori’s tokoyama, Kuromori, February 15, 2010. |
Although I don’t believe that Kuromori techniques are
frozen for the simple reason that the participants aspire to as much
professionalism as they possible. Of course, what they call “Kuromori kata” or even Kuromori body language,
exists, and the differences can easily be noted when viewing professional
performances. The actors talk about it proudly but what allows us to consider
Kuromori kata traditional?
Contemporary Kuromori kabuki is a mixture of strong local tradition and
aspirations to professional theatre.
 |
| - Getting ready in Kuromori’s tokoyama, Kuromori. February 15, 2010. |
In Hinoemata, one can find a different model.
Nowadays, eleven segments from eight different plays (major ones in the kabuki
repertoire) are performed: Ehon taikōki, Ichinotani futaba gunki,
Shinrei Yaguchi
no watashi, Yoshitsune
senbon zakura, Tamamono Mae asahi no tamoto, Kamakura sandaiki, Ōshū Adachigahara, and Minamiyama gimin no ishibumi (The
Statue of Minamiyama’s Righteous). Only the last, written by Hinoemata’s own
Baba Kadō, is not a gidayū kyogen, and
performed only in Hinoemata, although it’s not very interesting and locals
don’t care to perform it.
 |
| Kuromori Kagura: ritual dance that begins performance day, just after stage purification, Kuromori. February 15, 2010. |
Because the repertoire is not that deep and they
stage only two or three pieces a year, all have been recorded on video. Videos aren’t
the only resource for novices actors, as they do work under the tutelage of
older players, but they are the most important one. Does this mean that
Hinoemata kabuki will henceforth be fossilized, as per its
early 20th-century performances?
 |
Onnagata actor as Shizuka Gozen in Yoshitsune Senbon Zakura, "Toriimae" scene.
|
The history of these amateur theatres reveals that
they had little or no contact with the professional stages of the Edo and Meiji
periods. Today, however, they know just what kabuki should look like and,
what’s more, they aim to be “traditional.” If we consider premodern kabuki as contemporary
within its earlier periods, with conventional techniques but constantly
changing and responding to social, cultural and political contexts, then jishibai, representing theatre outside the few licensed
theatres of the main cities, and with its own unique methods, was an important
part of the theatrical world of its time.
 |
Onnagata actor as Osato in Yoshitsune Senbon Zakura, "Sushiya" scene, Kuromori, February 17, 2010.
|
This premodern theatre world was unbelievably alive, constantly
evolving, based on “classics” that themselves were likewise changing, while
continually building a new repertoire. Taking all this into consideration, I find
amateur kabuki more an important source for a narrative about the meaning of tradition
than as a quantitative historical source. This, of course,
takes me to the assumption that something like real Edo kabuki never existed. We
may have an ideal picture of it on our minds, but it’s impossible to put Edo-period
theatre into a restrictive frame.
 |
| Igami no Gonta, just killed by his father, with his family in Yoshitsune Senbon Zakura, "Sushiya" scene, Kuromori February 17, 2010 |
NOTES:
1. This article is based on material in my book, Boska
obecność. O względności tekstu i rytuału w teatrze kabuki (Divine Presence:
Concerning the Relativity of Text and Ritual in Kabuki Theatre). Krakow: Universitas, 2015.
2.
Samuel L. Leiter in “Gimme that Old-Time Kabuki: Japan’s Rural
Theatre Landscape," the only substantial, previously available writing on the subject in
English, uses “rural” and “amateur” interchangeably. See: Samuel L. Leiter, Frozen Moments.
Writings on Kabuki 1966-2001,
East Asia Program, Cornell University, Ithaca, New York 2002, p. 257-294.
3.
One of the biggest theatre costume renters operated in Ise; see, e.g. Okada
Yoshiyuki, et al. (2008).
4.
Koshōgatsu, or the festival of Little New Year, a festival celebrated according
to the old lunisolar calendar in the middle of the first month of the year,
concluding the New Year period.
5.
This difference is caused by the fact that local communities did not adapt to
the Gregorian calendar, used in Japan since January 1, 1873.
6. The origins of the name Saidō Renchū are not
clear. It is probably derived from the name of a Shōgun Tamura, also known as
Sakanoue Tamuramaro (758-811), a hero of Japanese antiquity and acommander
serving Emperor Kammu (737-806; reigned 781-806). He gained fame fighting the
Ainu people, who at that time populated northern Honshu. In 794 he became the
second individual in deity Sai no kami worshiped in the area. The change
of saino into saidō is probably a result of
the local dialect, the Kuromori ben. He received the title of
“Commander-in-Chief of the Expeditionary Force Against the Barbarians” (seii
taishōgun). It is believed that
the annual lantern festival (Nebura Matsuri) in Aomori, was created in his
honor. (See, e.g. Kusuyama, 1983, and Tubielewicz, 1984).
7. Based on the reprint of the original in
Sakatashi Kyōiku Iinkai, 2003.
8.
Gapposhu can be found in the Chidō Museum, Tsuruoka.
9.
Based on the reprint of Saidōchō in Sakatashi Kyōiku Iinkai, 2003.
10.
Shirakawa no Seki is the old name
for the region. During the Edo period it was part of the Shirakawa domain, and
today is located in the southern part of Fukushima Prefecture.
11.
Most probably it was daimyō Matsudaira Naonori (1642–1695), from the Echizen
clan.
12.
Unpublished interview with Hoshi Chōichi by Iga Rutkowska, April 9, 2010.
13.
There are no extant sources to provide more information about him.
14. Shinpa,
a Japanese theatrical genre that emerged in the 1890s. It was created as a
result of the influence of Western theatre on traditional Japanese theatre,
mostly kabuki.
BIBLIOGRAPHY:
Brandon, James. Kabuki’s
forgotten War, 1931-1945. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2006.
Gunji, Masakatsu. Jishibai
to minzoku. Tokyo: Iwazaki Bijutsusha, 1985.
Hattori, Yukio. Kabuki
no genkyo: Jishibai to toshi no shibaigoya. Tokyo: Yoshikawas Kōbunkan, 2007.
Hinoemata sonshi. Hinoemata
Mura, 2006.
Ikeyama, Akira. Chihō toshi
no kabuki. In Iwanami kōza, Kabuki,
bunraku, Vol. III, part 2. Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten,1997.
Kageyama, Masataka. Aisubeki
koya. Murashibai to butai no minzoku
shi. Tokyo: Tojusha, 1990.
Leiter Samuel L. Frozen
Moments. Writings on Kabuki 1966–2001. Ithaca, NY: East Asia Program,
Cornell University, 2002.
Moriya, Takeshi. Mura
shibai. Kinsei bunkashi no susono kara. Tokyo: Heibonsha, 1988.
Shimazaki, Satoko. Edo
Kabuki in Transition. From the Worlds of the Samurai to the
Vengeful Female Ghost. New York: Columbia University Press, 2016.
Yamaguchi, Yaichirō. Hikyō
Hinoemata Kabuki. Fukushima: Fukushima Chūō Terebi, 1976.
Iga Rutkowska
is assistant professor of Japanese
Studies Section, Department of Oriental Studies of Faculty of Modern Languages
and Literatures, Adam Mickiewicz University, Poznan, Poland. She graduated in
Japanology and Cultural Anthropology (University of Warsaw) and is currently a
theatre studies student a Warsaw Theatre Academy. Her academic interests focus
primarily on the traditional Japanese performing arts in relation to cultural
context, religion, literature, and art. She has written numerous
publications on Japanese culture, with a particular focus on theatre. Her book,
whose English title is Divine
Presence. On the Relativity of Text and Ritual in Kabuki Theatre, which is based on
doctoral thesis, is about the amateur kabuki phenomenon.
