JISHIBAI: TRADITIONAL ACTING TECHNIQUES IN AMATEUR KABUKI

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

By Iga Rutkowska

Translated by Damon Pytlik

Photos by Iga Rutkowska

(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[2].

 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.