Kabuki

by Zoë Kincaid

How far frugality was carried out in Old Japan may be imagined from a statement made by the late Marquis Okuma when, on one occasion, he addressed new recruits to the Army. “In my province”, he said, “the cultivation of the sweet potato was forbidden at one time. Similar to this was the prohibition of sericulture by the Shogun’s Government. The reason was that the fields were necessary for the cultivation of rice, and should not be used for materials of luxury, for by so doing the good old habits of the people would be entirely destroyed. In this age of enlightenment,” Marquis Okuma continued, “even a schoolboy could at once detect the fallacy of such a view, but it enables us to see what great stress our fathers and grandfathers put upon the importance of simple living.”

Another view concerning this side of Japanese life under the shogunate is expressed by Murdoch in his History of Japan: “Even at the present day the lower classes in Japan are remarkable for the fewness of their wants, rather than for the abundance of their possessions; but in the brave days of the sixteenth century few of them could indulge in the luxury of having any wants at all, beyond those of the birds or rabbits. The poverty of the country people at this time was clearly grinding.”

Quite contrary in every respect were the resplendent yakusha, with their extravagant tastes and striking styles that made such a strong appeal to the senses, and the guiding principles of the nation which placed little value on the possession of worldly goods and emphasised simplicity and economy. Permeating the people was the Buddhist doctrine of impermanency with its emphasis on the non-worship of things, and opposed to this stood the yakusha who delighted in stage costumes of the richest materials, the most dazzling embroideries in gold or silver. The actors’ love of display and extravagance required drastic measures in order that they should be held in check. The very gorgeousness of the stage showing the purest instinct for all the colours of the rainbow gathered up from the odd corners of Asia produced tendencies in the people that it was considered necessary to uproot.

It is curious to reflect that at identical periods the Puritans in England and the Tokugawa Shogunate were interfering with the theatre, for in 1642 an order of the English Parliament forbade all public entertainments, and the shogunate prohibited the Wakashu Kabuki, or Young Men’s Stage, in 1644. There was thus a similar attitude towards the theatre in the two island nations of East and West, separated so widely and as yet scarcely aware of each other’s existence.

After the Women’s Stage, or Onna Kabuki, had been stopped, Government interference was frequent. The direct cause of the banishment of the youthful actors of Wakashu Kabuki in 1644 is attributed to the chief magistrate of Yedo. He was invited to a friend’s residence, and saw among the attendants a young lad who was not only above the average in good looks but graceful in his movements and showed superior intelligence. The magistrate inquired his name and parentage, hoping to engage him as a page in his household. To his astonishment he was told that the attendant was an actor. Straightway he ordered the officials under him to go to the theatre and see that the front locks of the young players were shorn, for fear their attractiveness might be the means of corrupting society.

The shaving of the actors’ heads, directly responsible for the downfall of Wakashu Kabuki, continued long in force. And a further indignity was heaped upon the yakusha, for they were obliged to proceed regularly to the police station that their heads might be examined, as they were prone to elude the authorities in this regard if not watched.

Soon after the edict that caused the abolition of Wakashu Kabuki the four leading playhouses of Yedo, together with the doll-theatres and minor places of amusement, were ordered to be suspended because of the scandal between an actor and the wife of a daimyo. The authorities were evidently bent on the extermination of the theatre, but after repeated petitions on the part of the proprietors permission to reopen was granted the following year.

That the actors were regarded with open admiration by the ladies of the aristocracy is evident. Many stories are told with regard to the measures they took to see the players, often inviting them to their homes. This led to social breaches the officials were not slow to hold up as fearful examples of depravity. In 1648 the third Shogun’s Cabinet issued an order against members of the aristocracy attending the theatre, and in 1655 there was a regulation to the effect that as already proclaimed the yakusha were not allowed to attend the mansions of the aristocracy even if they were invited. With regard to their stage costumes they must not be luxurious, and plays in which extravagance was displayed were not allowed to be performed.

A conflagration that swept Yedo in 1657, in the third year of Meireki, called the Great Fire of Meireki, gave the authorities a good opportunity to confine the theatres to one quarter. The fire had started from a Buddhist temple, and lasted until the following day, destroying the business centre of the town. When after considerable delay the theatres were allowed to be rebuilt, fewer licences were granted, and but four large shibai were permitted to be erected in Sakai-machi. Here for a period all the places of amusement, large or small, were segregated.

A description of Sakai-machi is given in Joruri Shi, or the History of Joruri, by Takano. He writes that it was a long street running east and west. To the south were several doll-theatres clustering on each side of the Nakamura-za. But a short distance away were the Ichimura-za and Miyako-za, set in the midst of marionette shows. “Imagine how flourishing these places were in olden times”, observes the author.