- Bunraku: 良弁杉由来、増補忠臣蔵 (Roben and the Cedar Tree, Zoho Chushingura)
9/15/18 (Sat), Tokyo
This year marks the 150th anniversary of the Meiji Restoration, and the National Theatre is featuring two productions from that era. After an astounding period of creativity, Bunraku had pretty much halted as a living art in the 18th century, and not many pieces were being written at this point. Whereas the Kabuki world was undertaking some dramatic experiments incorporating Western concepts, these puppet pieces stay safely within the bounds of their predecessors — which is fine when done as well as it is here.
Roben Sugi no Yurai (The Origin of Roben’s Cedar) was written unusually by a woman, Chiga Kako, to the composition of her husband, the well known shamisen player Toyozawa Danpei II, in 1887. The widowed noblewoman Nagisa is watching her servants pick tea by Lake Biwa when, to her horror, an eagle suddenly grabs her infant son in its talons and flies off with him. He is never found, and when we meet her years later, she has gone mad and been reduced to a beggar. She learns by chance on a ferryboat that the famed priest Roben, who helped found Nara’s Todaiji, has a similar background to her child and goes immediately to the temple to seek him out. A priest tells her that Roben prays every day at a cedar where he was found as a child, and suggests that she leave a note there for him, even going so far as to write the note for her. Roben does find the note, and after chatting with the disheveled woman, realizes that this is in fact his mother in a joyous ending.
The first two scenes, when the eagle steals the child and, years later, the mad mother is teased by children, featured a large number of taiyu and musicians in lively presentations. There were numerous clever effects that enlightened the proceedings, like the large hawk swooping down and nabbing the child and the soap bubble (being hawked by a soap bubble seller, whatever that is) floating across the stage. The story of the frenzied woman searching for her son, a staple of Noh drama, was movingly presented.
Unfortunately the second half dragged. The long procession setting up Roben’s arrival was highly impressive with the surprising Kabuki-scale number of characters on stage, large props and good fun as the servants did varied tricks with their spears. Once Roben made his entrance, though, the fun halted. Reflecting, I suppose, his dignity and serene demeanor as a high priest, he basically stood in one position the entire time, which can’t be interesting for the puppeteers and is certainly not interesting for us. The conversation revealing that he and Nagisa are mother and son, which should be a highlight, goes on far too long to sustain our attention. It could easily be cut by 20-30 minutes. That said, they were smart enough to use the energetic Chitosetayu as the narrator, whose animated performance was, as always, a show on its own.
It’s a very attractive story and, while the unusually large cast probably hurts its commercial prospects, it deserves more exposure if they can tighten it up. The Kabuki version must be spectacular.
As a sideline, a friend thought the eagle abduction story might have been inspired by a similar Greek tale, saying that this would make sense for a Meiji piece. That would have been an interesting innovation for Bunraku, but the program noted that in fact that motif has ample precedent in Japanese literature going back to at least the Heian Era. Ah, well.
Zoho Chushingura: This offshoot of the uber-popular 18th-century epic Chushingura gives further background to the crucial character Honzo, who was unwittingly responsible for the tragedy by restraining a lord, Enya Hangan, from murdering the duplicitous Ko-no-Morono. As we are aware from that earlier show, Enya was ordered to commit seppuku just for pulling his sword out while Morono got off scot-free, an event that triggered the ensuing vendetta by Enya’s retainers. More to the point for today’s story, the well-meaning Honzo had previously rescued his own boss Wakanosuke from a similar fate by bribing Morono, only to see this implicating Wakanosuke as shamefully weaseling out of a fight rather than fighting like a samurai. Honzo’s actions in atonement for those unintentional gaffes in Act IX of the epic is one of the great scenes of both Bunraku and Kabuki theater.
This play, adapted from a Kabuki version (the reversal of the usual order), fills in the blanks of Chushingura, showing the events after those blunders and just before Act IX. A pompous samurai, his boorishness symbolized by a comically striped kimono, comes to Wakanosuke’s mansion to kill Honzo for his misdoings – and, he hopes, win the lord’s beautiful sister for himself. The guilt-ridden Honzo is prepared to die, but Wakanosuke deals with things in his own way.
The story is logical and straightforward with memorable characterizations. While it works perfectly well as an independent drama, it does assume a knowledge of the events in the earlier play and fits with it adeptly, to the extent that it’s actually been incorporated into Chushingura performances at times: we learn, for instance, why Honzo suddenly shows up in Act IX as a flute-playing priest. There was a lovely moment in the show after all is resolved when the sister plays the koto as Honzo plays the flute. A great balance of humor, drama and pathos and a very enjoyable show, with great narration by Sakitayu.