SHIBAI
CHAPTER XVIII
CUSTOMS OF SHIBAI
One of the most remarkable customs connected with theatre going was the unearthly hour in the morning the shibai opened. Just before dawn, or between four and five o’clock, the big drum in the drum-tower was beaten as a signal that the performances were about to begin.
Those who lived near the theatres were obliged to hurry over an early breakfast that they might reach the playhouse by sunrise, but to the playgoers who were obliged to walk miles on foot, or countryfolk bent on seeing the famous actors, it was a matter of lengthy preparations the day before, and their journey shibaiwards was begun in the darkness of night. To a woman especially it was a serious undertaking to attend shibai, because hours were spent in oiling and arranging the hair, bathing, dressing, and making the face as attractive as possible with paint and powder.
Only the most enthusiastic playgoers planned on reaching the shibai in time for the first piece, and it was customary for people to stay overnight at the shibai chaya, or at an inn to be in readiness for the great event. To children allowed to accompany their elders the excitement preparatory to setting forth in the dead of night must have made these unforgettable occasions thrilling adventures. If by chance the grandparents formed part of the party, the child would listen to reminiscences of the fathers and grandfathers of the actors then playing, and the youthful playgoers when grown up would in turn recall their early visits to shibai, the long day spent in the theatre, the dinner at sunset in the tea-house, after which came the return homeward.
By the time the first golden rays of the sun were gilding the grey-tiled roofs of the town, people might have been seen coming from all directions to theatre street, where the scenes were so lively that, according to an old book, Kokon Yakusha Taizen, or Ancient and Modern Actors, “the prosperity seen outside the shibai every day cannot be expressed by a writing brush”.
And, indeed, the excitement of arrival must have compensated for the loss of sleep and long travel, for there was noise and confusion outside the theatre where the bill-boards, gorgeous posters depicting the characters in the play in brilliant colours on powdered gold backgrounds, glistened in the sunlight, the many coloured flags, presented to the actors on which their names were to be seen, floated bravely in the breeze, and rows of lanterns bearing the actor’s crest decorated the theatre inside and out.
In a translation made by the late Lord Redesdale and published in The Far East Magazine in 1871, there is a description of the shibai taken from an old book about the sights of Yedo, which gives an intimate picture of the interior as it looked to a playgoer of that day.
“The gallery ... is hung with curtains as bright as the rainbow in the departing clouds. The place soon becomes so crowded that the heads of the spectators are like the scales on a dragon’s back. When the play begins, if the subject be tragic, the spectators are so affected that they weep till they have to wring their sleeves dry. If the piece be comic they laugh till their chins are out of joint. The tricks and stratagems of the drama baffle description, and the actors are as graceful as the flight of the swallows. The triumph of persecuted virtue and the punishment of wickedness invariably crown the story. When a favourite actor makes his appearance his entry is hailed with cheers. Fun and diversion are the order of the day, and rich and poor alike forget the cares which they have left behind them at home; and yet it is not all idle amusement, for there is a moral included and a practical sermon in every play.”
As a testimonial to the respect the actors felt for their high calling, and a link with the ceremonial traditions of theatricals in Japan, it was the custom for a comic dance, or Sambasso, to precede the regular performances, and this was given before the sun had risen.