Tuesday, December 28, 2021

ENGEKIKAI #11 (November 2021): COVER AND CONTENTS

 



Nakamura Fukusuke as Tokiwazu Mojifuku. (Photo: Shinoyama Kishin.)

The cover for the November 2021 (#11) issue of ENGEKIKAI, the monthly kabuki magazine of record, shows Nakamura Fukusuke as Tokiwazu Mojifuku in O-Edo Miyage, as performed at Tokyo’s Kabuki-za in September 2021. The issue’s main contents are listed on the cover (there are more inside), the chief feature being the headline at the upper left announcing a section on Bonds and Destiny among Women in kabuki, which features an illustrated series of brief essays on leading female characters. Other items mentioned are an interview with actor Kataoka Ainosuke on his then forthcoming program at Osaka’s Shōchiku-za; an article about the production activity of Onoe Matsuya; a discussion among four actors of the shinpa genre—an early form of modern Japanese drama that emerged in the 1890s—about their special forthcoming revival honoring the memory of great shinpa star Hanayagi Shōtarō; and the latest in the series of essays by star Matsumoto Kōshirō called “Kōshirō’s Thousand and One Nights.”

Upper left and left middle: Morita-za hand warmer. Upper right: Morita-za yagura kanban. Below: Kokusenya Kassen at the Morita-za.

Each issue of ENGEKIKAI begins with an item memorializing some artifact of kabuki history. Those featured here are a yagura kanban (theatre signboard) and a teaburi (handwarmer).  I’ve adapted the accompanying Japanese text by Kodama Ryūichi explaining what these are:

 In the Edo period (1603-1868), the name of each theatre’s producer (zamoto) was written on a signboard placed beneath the drum tower (yagura) over the theatre’s front. The number of major theatres was limited to three, the Edo Sanza as they were called, the Nakamura-za, the Ichimura-za, and the Morita-za, the last having the weakest track record of them all. Whenever business plunged at any theatre and the management had to close up shop, an alternative theatre (hikae yagura) was allowed to produce in its place. The alternative theatre for the Morita-za was the Kawarasaki (or Kawarazaki)-za, managed by a line of men called Kawarasaki Gonnosuke.

In 1856, the Morita-za, which had been shut down, once more was allowed to put up its drum tower, a sign that it had official permission to operate. However, on the ninth day of New Year’s month, 1858, a fire broke out on the third floor of the Morita-za and spread to other nearby streets in Asakusa’s Saruwaka-machi theatre district, destroying both the Morita-za and the Ichimura-za. The Nakamura-za, which survived unscathed, decided to cancel the rest of its New Year’s run. With each of the Edo Sanza unavailable, the young star Bandō Hikosaburō V departed Edo for Osaka’s Naka no Shibai, in the Dōtonbori entertainment district. Soon after, his father, Bandō Kamezō (formerly Hikosaburō IV), followed. Hikosaburō performed Musume Dōjōji and was highly praised but on the twenty-fifth day of the second month, the nearby Kado-za caught fire and all the Dōtonbori theatres, other than the Nishi no Shibai, were burned down.

It’s hard to imagine today, but theatres—built entirely of wood—were constantly being destroyed by fire in those days. According to one source, if one looks only at the Edo Sanza, the first half of the nineteenth century witnessed fifteen theatre fires, a pattern that didn’t let up, even in the second half of the century, when more modern construction methods were being used.

The Morita-za was soon rebuilt and opened on the seventh day of the seventh month of 1858, but from this time on it changed the character for “mori” from to , thus turning the 森田座 into the 守田座. Producer Morita Kan'ya altered the spelling of his name accordingly. This also meant that the wooden signboard with the theatre’s name also had to be revised. On the surviving signboard, the rear side has the Japanese date (Manji 3) for 1660 engraved on it, that being the year the first Morita-za was founded.

Even after the new Morita-za was built, it burned down again in 1864 and 1876. We don’t know what happened to the signboards of those theatres, but in February 1875 (after the adoption of the Western calendar) the theatre’s name was changed to the Shintomi-za (which would be one of most renowned venues of its time) so we can confirm Morita-za items from before that time, which makes them extremely valuable. One such is the Morita-za kanban shown in the picture at the upper right.

Another is a triptych woodblock print by Umeda Kunimasa (Utagawa Kunimasa IV), “Tōkyō Shintomi-chō Morita-za Ōiri no Zu” (Picture of a Full House at the Morita-za in Tokyo’s Shintomi-chō) depicting a production of Kokusenya Kassen in October 1872. Standing on the bridge at center in the role of Watonai is Kawarasaki Gonnosuke VII (later Ichikawa Danjūrō IX, one of the three greatest stars of the Meiji period), while Kanki is played by Ichikawa Sadanji I (part of the same triad of stars), and Kinshōjo is taken by Iwai Hanshirō VIII.

On the lower right side of the picture is a young woman, standing on the secondary hanamichi runway as an usher shows her to her seat. In the usher’s hand is a “teaburi” (or “hakohibachi”), a wooden box holding a charcoal brazier and used for heating and pipe smoking. An actual example of one from the Morita-za is seen in the accompanying photos. It belongs to the Tsubouchi Memorial Theatre Museum at Waseda University in Tokyo. The words in black on its back say “Saruwaka-machi Morita-za,” using the later spelling of Morita. The words on its side say “daidai kanau,” which is short for “senshū banzai daidai kanau,” an imprecation formerly used in both kabuki and sumō meaning something like “Full houses forever!”

The drawer at the bottom is lined with copper onto which were placed ashes and charcoal, with a copper-lined grating (sunoko) over them through which passed heat from below. You placed your hands over it to warm them. The grating was also a safety measure, intended to prevent sparks from flying out. These offered a modicum of comfort to spectators on a cold winter day.  

Items like the teaburi were such commonplaces in theatres that no one seems to have bothered to write anything about them. It’s very fortunate that someone thought enough about preserving this artifact to donate it to the museum.  

 

 

 

 

yJ

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