Among the playwrights of Taisho, some of the best known are Oka Onitaro, Yoshii Isamu, Kume Masao, Yamamoto Arizo, Osada Hideo, Yamamoto Yuzo, Yamazaki Shiko, Ikeda Taigo, Nakamura Kichizo, Nagai Kafu, Dr. Rohan Koda, Roppuku Nukada, Mushakoji Saneatsu (brother of Viscount Mushakoji), and Juichiro Tanizaki, whose plays have been much discussed and criticised. During 1921 the best play to be produced by an aspiring playwright was Tojuro no Koi, or The Love of Tojuro, and concerned an incident in the life of Sakata Tojuro, the great actor of the Genroku period. It was by Kikuchi Kan, of whom much is expected in the future. He also wrote Okujiyo no Kyojin, or The Mad Man on the Roof, which was a success at the Imperial. Miss Chiyo-ko Hasegawa and Mrs. Kayo-ko Omura are among the women who have written plays for the Tokyo stage.

Not in their wildest dreams could the stage folk of fifty years ago have predicted the remarkable development of Kabuki in the years 1918–1920. Ten years before this the chief playhouses of Tokyo were almost deserted, and at best they were never more than half full. But the audiences increased to such an extent that standing room in the topmost gallery was at a premium.

This overflowing of the theatre was due to the general prosperity of the country as a result of the Great War. Faith in the West was rudely shattered, and the people swung back to their own institutions with a new zest and enthusiasm.

For lack of stimulus Kabuki had been at a standstill for half-a-century before the Restoration; then came the flood-tide of Western influence. Unconscious of the value of its art, Kabuki remained powerless to proceed, and led the superficial observer to believe that it was unable to create and on the downward path to oblivion. But the forces within were gaining strength, and during the height of national prosperity brought about by the European War, the existence of Kabuki was justified as never before in its three hundred years of history.

KABUKI TO-DAY

CHAPTER XXIX
CONTEMPORARY KABUKI

The present condition of Kabuki is like that of an old temple within a walled garden, around which flows the modern life of a great city, where rages a conflict between two civilisations, that of Asia, and the other, largely commercial, imported from the West. Reformers believe that the temple is all out of date, and are seeking with conscious effort how best they can change the style of architecture.

Some there are who go boldly within the sacred precincts with pots of paint in order that the fading hues of the pictures beneath the curving roofs may be covered by a new design. It is not in their thoughts to restore the tarnished colours, but to destroy and make anew. Still others climb upon the walls and look with scorn upon the priests, calling them lazy, indifferent, and ignorant. And now and then some learned gentleman from the West enters with the worshippers on a festival day, and declares that he wonders what it is all about, while others, even more learned, proclaim in solemn tones that the temple is in decay, and in a few years it will fall with a crash, and so give way for a Western edifice to be built upon the ruins.

In spite of these dire pronouncements,—the rushing modern life outside, the ill-advised observers on the walls, the reformers who seek to destroy,—Kabuki still has its priests, the actors, and goes triumphantly on its way. Heedless of the critics they carry on, performing the old ceremonies, preserving the ancient traditions and conventions with all fidelity, yet turning their faces resolutely toward the future.

Three groups of actors now control the destiny of Tokyo Kabuki,—the companies attached to the Imperial Theatre, Kabuki-za, and Ichimura-za.