• Noh: 半蔀 (Hajitomi)、高野物狂 (Koya Monogurui)

7/13/25 (Sun), Tokyo

I hadn’t seen either of these pieces, so I figured it was a good chance to catch something new. I accidentally bought four tickets rather than two and couldn’t find anyone interested in joining us, including a friend living a two-minute walk from the theater. I guess I’ll look on it as a donation to the Yarai Noh Theater group. 

Hajitomi: This is based on the famous “Yugao” chapter of the Tales of Genji. I read Arthur Waley’s moving translation of this chapter the night before as preparation. The title of the show refers to the lattice shutters that the women were slyly peeking through when Genji spotted them. The show is not a reworking of that story, using the character of Yugao instead for its own purposes.

A monk at Unrin-in is saying prayers for the flowers that he leaves each day so that they may achieve salvation (possible for all living things in Buddhist thought). He spots a white flower among them, which, it turns out, a woman has presented as an offering. Asked her name, she answers evasively that it belongs to the past and that she comes from the flowers. Then she disappears. The monk learns that this is the spirit of Lady Yugao (which literally means moonflower), a former lover of Genji who was struck dead by his girlfriend’s vengeful spirit. When the monk visits her former home, her ghost is standing looking through the shutter. She relates her story and pleads with him to pray for her soul. Thanks to his prayers, she attains enlightenment (alarmingly via rebirth as a man), then vanishes again. It is only then that the monk realizes that this was all a dream.

The highlight was Yugao’s elegant dance recalling the affair with Genji (the use of the fan is wonderful) and tragic ending, though the most memorable moment was when she appeared peering from the lattice, one of the best Noh stage props ever. The Buddhist teachings are easily understandable in context, and the story doesn’t depend on a knowledge of Genji, though it obviously helps. It’s a lovely show that I wish were performed more often.

Koya Monogurui: A samurai in Hitachi Province who has been entrusted with his late master’s son receives a letter from the boy revealing that he has renounced the world in grief at his father’s death one year earlier and has become a priest. He promises to reveal his whereabouts in three years, but the shocked servant, feeling that he has failed his duty to his master, goes immediately in search of the boy. After wandering for some time, he has gone crazy. He comes to Mt. Koya in Kii Province – a long way from home – and finds the Trident Pine associated with the ancient priest Kobo Daishi. The priest there initially tries to get rid of him but, in questioning him, is impressed by his Buddhist knowledge. The samurai becomes so distraught that he dances in violation of the temple’s rules. That attracts the attention of a monk, who turns out to be the very boy he seeks. They delightedly reunite, and the servant joins his master and becomes a monk.

This is an unusual show for several reasons. First, Noh dramas featuring crazed characters are nearly all about women, making this a decided outlier. Also, it’s not about lovers or a parent/child relation, but a servant and his late master’s kid, i.e., about loyalty rather than love. It was evidently a highly popular piece when it was written in the 14th-15th century, but fell out of the repertory for centuries. It was drastically rewritten in the mid-18th century along with a slew of other pieces, all of which were poorly received and soon disappeared. However, when this show was revived by the Kanze school during the Meiji years, they curiously picked the revised version, which they, unique among the five schools, continue to perform today. The most notable difference is the ending: rather than renounce the world with his master, the servant convinces him to leave and takes him home. That is, the Edo Era version elevates the theme of loyalty to family or clan over the purity of religious faith. That brings it closer to Kabuki (which is after all an Edo art) than to Noh, which has religious roots. Today’s show was a Kanze production, so that’s the ending they went with, but it doesn’t feel right as a Noh piece.

In any case, the show features lots of long speeches with complex Buddhist arguments, especially when the Koya priest is questioning the samurai. Not having a script, I wasn’t able to keep up with all that, which made the piece feel unduly long. The dance itself was interesting as per the kurui or crazed character genre, but it would have helped to have context. I don’t think I’d rush to see this infrequently performed show again, especially in the Kanze version.