Chapter XXVIII: Meiji Kabuki (2)

Aid yet, in spite of the fact that the yakusha was coming into his own, he was regarded as far too vulgar, uneducated, and unliterary to understand the imported dramas that were being translated in such great numbers.

Blindly the advocates of reform continued to pour new wine into old bottles. The Shimpa school, yielding to the desire for novelties, produced plays depicting Western manners and customs. But currents of life and thought so much opposed could not flow together, and the attempt to blend them upon the stage produced something that was neither of Occident nor of Orient, something strange and almost repulsive. The vivid colours of carpets, and wallpaper, and the atrocious furniture which represented to the audience Western interiors cannot be recalled without a shudder. Nor can be forgotten the costumes so nearly nightmares,—fashions that have never existed in any part of the world—and the hats worn by male actors of the Shimpa school when impersonating foreign females, headgear which might have adorned the inmates of an insane asylum, and other crude details conveying totally erroneous impressions.

The reformers, quick to see the absurdities of Shimpa, set themselves up as advocates of Western masterpieces which were to be so produced as to elevate the drama in Japan. Associations were formed in quick succession, all with the same aim, to see new actors in the newest European plays and to forget for a time the crying need of Japanese drama. Imported plays were produced one after the other on the Tokyo stage, always with more perfection of detail,—clever imitations.

The most ambitious attempt to reform the drama by means of imported masterpieces was made by Dr. Yuzo Tsubouchi, who formed the Bungei Kyokai, or Literary and Art Association, in 1906. It was a Waseda University movement, with the late Marquis Okuma at the head. Dr. Tsubouchi, one of the founders of Waseda, dean of the department of literature of this University, and known for his translations of Shakespeare, was the guiding spirit.

Dr. Tsubouchi believed that society in Japan did not appreciate the importance of the drama as an art, but regarded the theatre as mere pastime. Even among the educated classes there were many who could not understand a man of Dr. Tsubouchi’s standing wasting his time in such an attempt. One gentleman is reported to have said that he did not see why well-known scholars should devote themselves to the work of improving the drama, for the drama was not a bit superior to a geisha performance. A military officer advised Dr. Tsubouchi to devote his energies to the moral education of the people rather than the improvement of the drama, which was not of urgent necessity.

Notwithstanding these protests, a small theatre was erected in the garden of Dr. Tsubouchi’s residence, and a group of amateurs gathered together to study how to act in Western masterpieces. The leader considered that the Kabuki yakusha were hampered by their conventions, and he could not find among them the education and culture necessary to understand Shakespeare. He then began to train actors for the task he had before him. The first play given was _The Merchant of Venice_; the following year _Hamlet_ was presented, but both were unsuccessful. Profiting by these failures the society worked patiently for several years without performing in public, and finally a revival of _Hamlet_ was regarded as quite a triumph for the Bungei Kyokai. Matsui Suma-ko, a young woman quite new to the stage, developed into a leading lady, and Mr. Togi and Mr. Doi became the chief actors. Then followed the _Doll’s House_, _Magda_, _The Man of Destiny_, _You Never Can Tell_, _The Merchant of Venice_, etc. The last performance the society gave before dissolution was _Julius Cæsar_.

Born under the happiest of circumstances, the society came to an abrupt end. One of the staunch supporters of the movement was Shimamura Hogetsu. He had been a student under Dr. Tsubouchi, studied literature and the drama in England and France at the expense of Waseda University, and was Dr. Tsubouchi’s right-hand man in the management of the Bungei Kyokai.

But the serenity of the undertaking was greatly disturbed. Professor Shimamura left his wife and children for the fascinating leading lady, Suma-ko, broke off friendly relations with Dr. Tsubouchi, and was asked to resign from Waseda.

Soon afterwards he started a company of his own to star Miss Matsui. Their partnership did not continue long, as death suddenly overtook Professor Shimamura, and soon after Suma-ko killed herself by hanging. Doi Shunsho, who had taken the chief rôles, suffered a nervous breakdown and died, and the remaining members of the company drifted apart, leaving the model theatre deserted. The one member of this society who has remained faithful to its ideals is Togi Tatsuteki, who has taken leading rôles in Dr. Tsubouchi’s new drama.

A rival to the Bungei Kyokai was the Jiyu Gekijo, or Liberal Theatre Society, whose leader was Mr. K. Osanai, a graduate of the department of literature of the Imperial University, and a pupil of the late Lafcadio Hearn. This society gave Ibsen, Gorky, Maeterlinck, and Hauptmann. Likewise, half-a-dozen such societies arose, only to be doomed to early death.

Tamura Nariyoshi, the influential theatre manager of Meiji, a contemporary of Morita Kanya, once said that new actors could not grow up like mushrooms, but they must be thoroughly imbued with the atmosphere of Kabuki and understand all that had taken place in the past before trying to produce new things. Contrary to this view the reformers did not think it necessary to build on institutions already existing, and their efforts were misguided and misdirected. Tamura Nariyoshi for half a century fought for all that was best in Kabuki, carefully preserving the traditions amidst the welter of new movements, managing and producing for Kikugoro, the fifth, and his son, the sixth, at the Ichimura-za.

Towards the close of Meiji, in 1910, the height of the reform was reached in the building of the Imperial, Japan’s premier theatre. Erected according to a French model, it has a beautiful European interior with all modern equipment and comforts. In connection with the Imperial a school for actresses was established. Signor G. V. Rossi, an Italian ballet-master from London theatres, was engaged, and opera was produced for some years, but like all other Western methods of improvement, interest in it died away, in spite of Signor Rossi’s earnest endeavours. The lack of singers was the chief obstacle. It was during this opera vogue that Madame Miura, who has been so well received on the Western stage as Madame Butterfly, made her debut.

The Imperial Theatre, under its capable manager, Mr. K. Yamamoto, continues to be the centre of the conflict of old and new ideas. Here modern playwrights are encouraged, the Kabuki actors create new things, or act in the old plays of which the audience never seems to grow tired, while the actors, musicians, and dancers of England, America, and Europe, and even the stars of the Peking and Moscow stages, are warmly welcomed.

VI

Actresses of Meiji

One of the striking developments of the theatre in Meiji was the appearance of various types of actresses for the first time since the prohibition of the women’s stage in 1629. Returned travellers told tales of the prominent place the actresses held in the Occident. The female player had not been seen with the actor for centuries in Japan. She was a feature of the Western stage, then why not of the stage in Japan?

Danjuro, eager to try new experiments, and believing that women should have an equal chance with men in the theatre, decided to introduce his two daughters on the stage. The uproar and confusion that ensued among the theatre folk because of this petticoat invasion of the male sphere of influence caused them to withdraw. Danjuro also acted with a French actress to show that he was not bound by the conventions of Kabuki.

Among Danjuro’s pupils was a remarkable woman, Ichikawa Kumehachi. She began life as a dancing-mistress, studied under Danjuro, and formed a woman’s company of her own. So successful were these players that in the early days of Meiji they were allowed entrance to the houses of the nobility, when the actors could not be admitted on account of their low position in society.

On Kumehachi’s stage only women appeared, and the manly rôles were so well taken by women that it was difficult to penetrate the outward guise that concealed the feminine personality. All the stage duties, including those of carpenters, were performed by women.

Kumehachi had the hands of a dancing-mistress; they were long, narrow, and flexible, and her bright eyes were full of life and intelligence. She passed away in 1913 at the age of 70. A few days before her death she was playing in her small theatre, and so died in harness.

Danjuro once said of her: “If she had been a man her acting would have surpassed mine.” At one time she was called the “Woman Danjuro”, her acting so closely resembled that of her master. But such was the handicap of sex in Meiji that Kumehachi was not given the freedom to develop that would have proved her genius, and although she was undeniably popular with the people, the fact that she was a woman proved a stumbling-block to her advance. In its craze for new things and desire to imitate the Western theatre, Tokyo overlooked Kumehachi, and she died obscure and neglected, the company she had formed disbanding for want of leadership.

Nor did the attractive Sada Yakko ever succeed in reaping but a small measure of success from her barren Shimpa environment. She was a dimming star when towards the end of Meiji she founded a school for actresses that was to form a new departure of the progressive Imperial Theatre.

At the beginning of the craze for imported plays men attempted to portray the rôles of women. Their manner of walking—a sort of hop, skip, and jump—was as true to the habits and customs of Occidentals as the mincing stage gait of Orientals affected by Western players. Men were seen to be an impossibility as the heroines of the intellectual drama of the West, and a demand for young women for such rôles increased the number of stage-struck damsels in all parts of the country. Many a would-be actress strutted her brief hour upon the stage as Juliet or Ophelia, and then was heard of no more.

The career of Matsui Suma-ko clearly represents a certain undesirable phase of westernisation, a sort of frenzy for imported drama that took hold of the theatre reformers. At the time she entered Dr. Tsubouchi’s Bungei Kyokai, or Literary and Art Society, that was to reform stagnant Kabuki by producing Western drama, the novelty of the actresses was at its height, in Osaka as well as Tokyo. Dr. Tsubouchi sought to create intellectual actresses removed from all immoral influences. Matsui Suma-ko was the most promising aspirant for the newly created position, and she became the star of the society. At the age of 18 she had married an innkeeper in a fishing village. Later she was divorced, and came to live with her brother, who kept a cake shop in Tokyo. She waited on customers until she found another husband who was interested in the new drama, and with him she joined Tsubouchi’s company.

It is an unpleasant story how she parted from her second husband, fascinated Shimamura Hogetsu, Dr. Tsubouchi’s chief supporter and stage manager, causing him to resign as professor of Waseda Daigaku and to abandon his wife and children. Together they formed a company called the Art-Theatre. It was as Tolstoy’s heroine in _Resurrection_ that Miss Matsui made her greatest success, and with this and other Western plays she toured the country, the novelty of her venture and the boldness of her character bringing her a fair measure of success.

When Shimamura died in 1919, her position was greatly changed. He had been almost wholly responsible for her success. She did not possess the mental or spiritual capacity to go on alone, without his assistance. He had been conspicuous among Japanese literary men for his study of Western literature, and was the recognised leader of the naturalistic school. She had no reserve of education or experience to draw upon. Furthermore, after his death voices in the audience called out tauntingly, and some of the minor Kabuki actors who had been asked to play with her in an effort to maintain her popularity refused to do so. Things had come to an end, and she could go no further in plays that were not indigenous to Japanese soil. The only way out of the many difficulties she had created for herself was to make a grand exit, and this she did some weeks after the burial of her leader, Shimamura, by hanging herself in the building that had been erected as the headquarters for the new stage naturalism.

Matsui Suma-ko, a daughter of the rice fields, essayed to play the whole repertoire made famous by Ellen Terry, Mrs. Patrick Campbell, Sarah Bernhardt, Julia Marlow, and Mrs. Leslie Carter. It was an impossibility. There was no natural growth from within, only unhealthy camouflage. She attempted to produce, but always failed, because what she could impersonate never sprang spontaneously from her own soul. All her efforts aimed not to construct, but to dazzle for the moment,—time and strength wasted in a vain endeavour.

By way of contrast there is Nakamura Kasen, a natural successor to Kumehachi, whose influence and popularity were very great. She owned a little theatre in Tokyo, and it was always crowded. She had the temerity to imitate the Kabuki actors, and was never so popular as when in a male rôle. She began her stage work at the age of 13, and was practically self-taught, never having come under the instruction of an actor, but studying Kabuki plays and players from the vantage of the audience. Much of her success was due to the fact that she was true to herself and the traditions of Kabuki. She created her own sphere, and was regarded as a woman-ronin of the Tokyo stage, but has now retired.

With the opening of the Imperial Theatre in 1911 came the introduction of actresses into the sacred fold of Kabuki, following the custom of the mixed players of the Western stage. The new recruits, having no art of their own, were obliged to imitate that of the long-established male stage, and as no copy is ever equal to the original, it has gradually become recognised that they are unable to compete with the actors. During the first years of the new experiment the actresses played freely and frequently with the actors, but now there is a separation, the female company performing at stated periods during the year, supported by several of the young, progressive actors, and occasionally honoured by the assistance of one of the stars of first magnitude. The audiences prefer to see the actors performing in their own masterpieces, and the actresses in new pieces. From this it appears that mixing men and women players is not the success in Japan it was thought it would be.

Ritsu-ko Mori, who stands as the head of the actresses, was the first woman of good family to take up the stage as a career. She was educated in one of the exclusive young ladies’ schools of Tokyo, and her father was a member of the Imperial Diet. It was an unheard-of thing for a woman so educated to go upon the stage, and she was quite prepared to meet opposition in the domestic circle and from society. After a course of three years’ discipline she made her first appearance with the opening of the Imperial. Miss Mori excels in comedy, but has been seen in many rôles. She has undoubtedly earned for herself a first place among this new class of professional women, both for her hard work and her correct standard of life.

Associated with Miss Mori during the past ten years have been her close rivals, Murata Kaku-ko, Hatsuse Nami-ko, Kawamura Kikuye, and Fujima Fusa-ko—a member of the Fujima family, the leading dancing school of the Tokyo stage. In addition, a large number of actresses and skilled dancers, graduates of the Imperial Theatre, are now available, and there is every reason to believe that the actress is a permanent institution. But as she is such a new acquisition time alone can tell whether she will prove to be an important factor in the Japanese theatre.

VII

Playwrights of Meiji and Taisho

Kawataki Mokuami was not only the representative playwright of Meiji, he was the last of the Kabuki sakusha. After him theatre conditions changed rapidly, the good relations between sakusha and yakusha that had so long endured were destroyed, and peace and harmony between them have not yet been restored.

To such an extent does the modern stage owe allegiance to Mokuami that there is hardly a month that does not see a production of one of his plays in Tokyo, and as he wrote some three hundred plays, there seems no danger that the supply will run out for some time to come.

He was essentially a Yedoko, for he came of five generations of a Yedo family which lived in Nihonbashi, the centre of the metropolis, and the headquarters of the national domestic trade. His plays show wide familiarity with the lower and middle classes of Yedo, and are a mirror of his times. He was a precocious youth, and early started to indulge in dissipation. As he seemed disinclined to stop his irregular life, his father disinherited him—a younger brother succeeding as head of the family. Mokuami had little education, and began to associate early with the people of shibai, becoming an apprentice to drama at the age of 20, and dying in the middle of the Meiji period at 78.

When the seventh Danjuro returned to Yedo after his long exile, Mokuami wrote the piece played by this member of the Ichikawa family as a sign of his thankfulness that he had been able to return to the Yedo stage. For Danjuro, the ninth, Mokuami also wrote some of his best plays. He saw Yedo change to Tokyo; composed realistic Yedo plays for Kodanji, who was active in the early years of Meiji; and in his old age collaborated with Fukuchi in the writing of _Botan Doro_, or The Peony Lantern, one of Kabuki’s best ghost plays.

So repeatedly did Mokuami choose highwaymen and thieves for the characters of his plays that he was sometimes called the dorobo, or robber, playwright. He was also fond of priests, and the scenes of his plays pass from robbers’ dens, reminiscent of Oliver Twist, to temples and lonely graveyards. Through the whole series runs the contrast between the richly clad priest and the sinister robber. The night side of Tokyo life was often his theme, but frequently he portrayed the lower classes in their struggle against injustice and oppression. His zampatsumono, or cropped-hair plays, are a study of the disordered times when the impact of the West upon Japan caused the two swords as well as the queue to be discarded, and show the comic as well as tragic side of life in this transitional period.

Among his numerous works may be mentioned _Kochiyama_, a play dealing with an historical personage, the daimyo of Matsue, who was noted in his day for his profligacy. It is interesting to know that the loyal retainer of this feudal lord, who committed harakiri because his master would not listen to his advice and mend his ways, was the grandfather of the widow of Lafcadio Hearn. Some seventy years ago, this dramatic happening was written for the stage, but the daimyo of Matsue stopped its production by paying a large sum of money. Danjuro, Kikugoro, and Sadanji acted together in this play, and it has been revived many times.

Fukuchi Genichiro, known better under his pen name, Ochi Kochi, “Here and There”, was a man of varied talents. He was in the Government service, and might have risen high in official circles but for his predilection for drama. He distinguished himself during the days of the Restoration and travelled abroad in the suite of the late Prince Ito. Few men of his time were better versed in English literature. For a time he entered journalism, but it is as a playwright that he will best be remembered. Fukuchi was one of the promoters of the Kabuki-za, and wrote almost exclusively for Danjuro.

One of his best pieces is the music-drama, _Omori Hikoshichi_, a favourite play of Matsumoto Koshiro, the seventh, in which a warrior, Omori Hikoshichi, meets a seductive-looking maiden on a country road and volunteers to help her across a river. He is performing this kindly deed when she draws a short sword and attacks him. He is in possession of her father’s precious blade, and she is determined to recover it. Instead of retaliation, as she had expected, he generously presents the much-desired weapon to her and behaves in so chivalrous a manner that she goes on her way rejoicing, while he feigns to be overcome by enchantment in order to distract the attention of his companions, and mounting his black velvet stage-steed rides off triumphantly.

Fukuchi lived through an unprofitable period of the theatre, tried to conform to the demand of the time by writing “living-history” pieces for Danjuro, and the interest of the public cooling, he was pushed aside, and passed away forgotten and neglected. Many of his plays are more appreciated to-day than they were in his lifetime, especially _Kasuga no Tsubone_, or The Lady Kasuga.

A pioneer among the literary playwrights of Meiji, Dr. Tsubouchi wrote several elaborate dramas, showing the influence of his Shakespearean studies. The most ambitious of his works are _Kirihitoha_, A Leaf of the Kiri-tree, and _Maki-no-Kata_, The Lady Maki. The first is a play in seven acts and many scenes, and has for theme the overthrow of Osaka Castle by Iyeyasu, when Hideyori, the son of the great Hideyoshi, perished in the flames.

The climax of Oriental stage splendour is reached in the production of this long play. There is such an elaboration of detail, extravagance of gold screen, and prodigality of colour forming the stage pictures that is at once sumptuous and overpowering. The play would become nothing more than a series of tableaux vivants were it not for the characters of Yodogimi and Katagiri. Yodogimi, the mother of Hideyori, mistress of Hideyoshi, drawn from history, goes insane as Iyeyasu’s forces gain entrance through the gates of the castle and the watch-towers are seen in flames. Katagiri, a faithful old retainer of Hideyoshi, bowed with age and infirmity, gives proof of his loyalty as he watches the burning castle.

Among Dr. Tsubouchi’s music-posture pieces there is _O-Natsu Kyoran_, or Mad O-Natsu, a maiden all forlorn seeking her lost lover, and mistaking a stupid country bumpkin of a horse-driver as the hero of her dreams. In 1920 his _Honan_, or Religious Persecution, was produced. This centred about the founder of the Hokke sect of Buddhism, and shows the martyrdom of Nichiren and his followers. It created a storm of discussion by press and public, a play with a religious theme being somewhat of a novelty in Tokyo. The appointment of Dr. Tsubouchi as an adviser to the Imperial Theatre comes after a lifetime spent in literary work, translations, playwriting, and endeavours to reform the stage. It is with his lectures and translations of Shakespeare that his name is largely identified. Waseda University was founded in 1882, and since that year Shakespeare has continued the favourite study of the department of English Literature, of which for many years Dr. Tsubouchi was the head. Collegiate interest in Shakespeare, however, dates back to 1877, with the creation of the literary department of Tokyo University, now the Imperial University of Tokyo.

During the middle part of Meiji, Okamoto Kido began to write for the Tokyo stage, and is regarded as the representative modern playwright, both for the number and variety of his successes. He is a most indefatigable worker, and several of his new pieces are produced yearly. One of his favourite themes is the persecution of the early Christian converts in Japan,—and he has written a number of plays concerning these martyrs.

An Okamoto play that is often repeated, and is certainly one of his best, is _The Mask-Maker_, showing the high regard in which the artisans of Old Japan held their work. It expresses Kabuki’s love of the Spartan spirit, when the daughter of the mask-maker returns home in a dying condition, after attempting to protect the Shogun from attack, and her face inspires her father to execute a masterpiece.

Attached to the Kabuki-za during Meiji was the late Enomoto Torahiko. He started his career on the newspaper _Yamato Shimbun_, then studied under Fukuchi, and after Fukuchi’s death succeeded as head sakusha of the Kabuki-za. He was a deep student of French drama, and his plays were influenced strongly by the literature he so greatly admired. One of his most popular plays is _Meiko Sakaido Kakiyemon_, or Kakiyemon, the Potter. This tells how Kakiyemon devoted himself to making a rich red-glaze porcelain. A wealthy neighbour wished to gain the secret that he might profit thereby, and withheld aid from the old man until he was so reduced he could not buy wood to keep his kilns going. A good scene in this piece is that of the kilns in the moonlight, the red glow of the fires, the smoke rising into the air, while in the background is the glare of a conflagration—the city of Nagasaki on fire.

An Osaka playwright who has given Kabuki several fine plays is Takayasu Gekko. His father was known as one of the leading physicians of Osaka, and he was expected to take up the same profession, but preferred to devote himself to literature and the stage. _Sakura Shigure_, or The Cherry Shower, is regarded as his best play. An old man angry with his son for an affair with a belle of the gay quarter expels him from home. Shifting for himself, the son and the woman he loves begin life together in a cottage. The father happens to pass that way one day, and is caught in a shower. He seeks shelter within the humble cottage, but does not know that he is accepting the hospitality of his despised daughter-in-law. She prepares ceremonial tea for him, he is struck with her accomplishments and good manners, and when he discovers that she is the wife of his son, a reconciliation is effected.

Dr. Ogai Mori worked persistently during Meiji in the translation of German literature and drama. Osanai Kaoru translated from the French and German, and has produced a number of his own plays. Matsui Shoyu was tireless in his efforts in the translation of English drama, and is known as an adapter rather than an original playwright. The late Miigita Torahiko, attached to the Imperial Theatre, produced a number of excellent plays. Masuda Taro, a clever writer of light society pieces and farce, has composed chiefly for Miss Mori and the actresses of the Imperial. One of his successes was _Noroi_, or The Curse, with an imaginary Damascus of a thousand years ago as setting. After a week’s run it was noticed that the wicked princess who causes all the trouble, and who must die in the end in order that the good shall triumph over evil, according to the eternal convention of the fairy-tale, did not tumble down at the fateful dagger thrust, but remained erect, standing in a very commanding pose upon the throne with the final curtain. The police authorities who censor plays had objected to the death by such means of so exalted a personage. It was not proper in their minds to kill the princess, although she richly deserved it, and the whole point of the play was lost.

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