A villain of wrathful mien is made up according to the Ichikawa convention with the lower part of the face black, a black and white design on the chin for a beard, the upper portion of the face covered with a network of purple veins, and for eyebrows the antlers of a deer in dark blue. A villain of a different description appears with a bright red face, a pink nose and mouth, and thick black elevated eyebrows.
Most of the conventions for the making up of ghosts have been created by the Kikugoro family, their specialty being the weird and ghostly. A Kikugoro ghost has a branching design of blue veins, a red mouth outlined in black, and eyes painted with red and black. Another apparition has an indistinct blue tinge over the face, the features slightly touched with black. The face of a fox in human disguise is white with sharp pink points upward from the bridge of the nose, and slanting black eyebrows. The spirit of a frog has sharp curved lines of dark and light green about eyes, mouth, and forehead.
Not unlike the clown of the Western circus, the Kabuki comedian makes up with a white ground on which lines of red are painted about the nostrils and eyes, while a red circle between the eyes supports a heavy horizontal line intended for eyebrows. The cheeks are decorated with a blue curved design, suggested by a squirming eel, which represents a moustache.
The modern actors are not slaves to the conventions, but depart from them whenever they feel inclined, making up to suit their own ideas of the characters they take. The actor performs this elaborate duty himself, laying on the lines with brush and finger tip. Matsumoto Koshiro, of the Imperial Theatre, is acknowledged the most versatile and original in his making up, always creating something new and astonishing.
Onoe Kikugoro as a brave samurai woman mounted on a white velvet stage steed.
One of the most striking conventions of the Japanese theatre is the Kabuki horse, supported underneath by two minor actors who specialise in supplying legs to make-believe steeds. It waves its mane, kicks and steps about to show its mettle, or jogs along, a patient pack animal. But always it forms a necessary part of the action of a play, as well as an important feature of the stage picture.
This remarkable quadruped with the very human legs and knees occupies a distinct place of its own in the old plays, and its prestige is not dimmed even in the latest productions. Its ancestor may be seen on the Doll-stage, prancing about among the puppets, but the velvet mount of Kabuki is much more dignified, and has advanced a great deal since it ceased to associate with the marionettes.
In a music play, Omori Hikoshichi, by Fukuchi, the horse becomes one of the chief characters. The hero, Omori, while assisting a young woman to cross the ford of a river is suddenly attacked by her. He finds that she is trying to recover her father’s sword, and having it with him, he generously gives it up. To hide his act from his men, he pretends to be overcome by uncanny influences, but this excuse does not satisfy the retainers, and when Omori jumps upon his horse, they pull the bridle this way and that, the restive animal rearing and plunging to the strains of the samisen. At length Omori frees himself and appears in the background on a hill, his war-fan upraised in triumphant attitude, the very intelligent stage-horse pawing the ground, apparently sharing its master’s triumphant emotion.
Acting a horse rôle is not so easy as it may appear, since the fore and back legs must by some stage legerdemain perform in harmony. The front legs take the initiative since to this actor is given the position of look-out. There is a window in the throat of the horse that allows the chief interpreter a partial vision of the stage. The hind legs must follow blindly, and moreover this actor is in a stooping position and apparently has little air for breathing purposes. How the two players enter the outward frame, and how they get along inside, remains a mystery to playgoers, who do not inquire about the matter too closely.