KABUKI EEEEEEEEE!
Jun. 13th, 2006 12:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Love and Joy. No one in their right minds will ever read this but me.
Dear Ms Doe
Let me extend my most humble thanks for your decision to choose me to research the set design of your production of Sakurahime Azuma Bunsho . The resplendent theatre traditions of Kabuki have been a joy to research, and I feel confident that I have procured enough information for you to create a set faithful to the decadent spirit embodied in the play and theatre style.
The first and most important thing to remember is that the art of Kabuki itself is full of traditions that are upheld rigidly. They take their roots in the set. A series of devices are used to keep the stylized, presentational action on stage carefully involved with the audience. The hanamichi, to draw the audience and the play together, the mawari-butai to give the sense of depth and elaborateness so key to the long, intricate plays… The word Kabuki itself translates to ‘song, dance, skill’ in description of the vivid, colourful and precise craft of the actors, however this presentational style relies heavily on an accurate, intricate and realistic set to remain on its feet.
As your production is Canadian, the use of these traditions is at your discretion, however I would suggest that you bear in mind that there will no doubt be a strong Japanese presence in the audience, no doubt a large portion of whom will understand the art and be aware of breaks of tradition.
This is an image of a traditional Kabuki theatre. It is a British interpretation, and therefore partially inaccurate- in truth more of a garbled blend of both Noh and Kabuki styles and not to be considered as a blueprint for construction. However, it is worth examining as it gives a sense of the almost raucous audience participation, of the unity of stage and auditorium, of the informal sense of coming and going for a scene, an act, for lunch and then supper. No doubt this attitude will not be present as the culture of Canadian audiences is as different as the styles of acting are, however it is an element best not forgotten in any aspect of the staging of these plays.
Traditionally there would have been a sense of a nearly frenetic energy; audience paid little heed to the overarching plot. Tickets to Kabuki Theatre can be purchased to an entire production, the beginning, then end, a single act or two. There is a brief hiatus in which the audience may pick up a pre-ordered supper to bring back to the theatre, however there is essentially a constant sense of coming and going.
It begins with the use of the famous hanamichi- in English translating to ‘flower passage,’ the bridge to the back of the auditorium, about six feet wide (1.8 m. ) Actors make their entrances along this strip. Attached to this letter are several images of set, theatre, and actors from authentic Japanese productions that you may peruse, and I sincerely recommend it as words are not strong enough to convey the sense of elegance of the set.
The hanamichi is closely linked to the Noh passageway to the stage, as the dance-theatre holds its roots in the older, more shocking style. Both represent the idea of entering a world separate from the audience, however, the fact that actors cross it, stopping to touch the outstretched hands of their fans, keeps the two worlds very connected .
Both the idea of the physical touch with the audience and the concept of a path are mentioned by Kunio Komparu:
The hanamichi of Kabuki, an elevated walkway that runs from the front of the stage through the audience, is literally a path (michi) which shows that two spaces that it connectes are of the same dimensions. In this sense it is quite different in concept from the bridge of the Noh stage. The world hanamichi is now written with the character for flower (hana) but the original meaning was tip or gratuity (also pronounced hana), and the early hanamichi was indeed a path used by patrons in order to make their way through the crowds to bestow gifts on favored performers. Later it came to be used as a performance space, as an extension of the stage, and for particularly dramatic entrances and exits.
--Kunio Komparu
To elaborate, in a geographical sense the hanamichi has represented a path through a forest, a mountainous road, an inlet of water or a street or ceremonial path into a monastery or palace. Half way down the passage is a trapdoor-elevator, allowing for the most dramatic of entrances, reserved almost exclusively for the heroes or villains, or royalty in the play. Not a sense of status, exactly, but importance; secondary characters would enter through the wings.
The hanamichi is generally free of decoration or flourishes, being instead more a part of the audience than the set, and narrow enough that such things would probably catch on the cumbersome costumes of the actors.
A more fluid element of the show is the suppon . These trap doors may be created where so ever the director may desire it, with the exception of the one fixed on the hanamichi, previously mentioned, half way down the passage. At any point in this letter, please feel free to glance through the appendix for a visual interpretation of the concepts not easily expressed in words.
These trapdoors use a hand operated (originally bamboo, however there will no doubt be a change of building materials) elevator, called the seri-dashu , to lift an actor up to standing on the stage, as the actor remains stationary in a tableau on the platform.
They word suppon is Japanese for snapping turtle, because like the creature, the actor emerges head first from the shell of the stage and can be snapped up by their surroundings in an instant. They are essentially unique to Kabuki, too informal for the simple and elemental backdrop of a Noh stage and too cumbersome for the Bunraku puppets to dodge in and out of.
Invented originally for dramatic disappearances and entrances, the suppon are particularly important in plays involving ghosts, such as Sakurahime Azuma Bunsho. The deceased Shiragikumaru would appear and disappear by trap door during the final act of the play and after his death.
There are some specific traditions regarding the stage itself that at least bear looking into if not following. The important connection to the audience is, in Japan, kept by removing the arch of the stage. Unfortunately, such renovations are hardly possible nor in budget however attempts to disguise the features should be considered, should the theatre in which you are performing have one. This more box-like theatre is called the Kabuki-za.
The meaning of za is site, the place where some activity occurs as in Ginza (silver site) , the part of downtown Tokyo where silver was once minted, or Kabuki-za, where Kabuki is performed.
-Kunio Komparu
The stage is constructed to show the intricacies of the world created (notorious for the exacting details of the set) with the tool called the mawari-butai or rather, revolving stage. The main building of the piece, be it monastery, or brothel, is placed on this portion of the stage. When the stage revolves the doll-house like construction of the building is revealed, and the scene may easily be taken from outside to inside. It is not uncommon for this shift to happen while the action continues onstage, however timing will need to be precise and exact to perform this shift successfully.
As in all elements of the theatre, the staging has rigorous and rich customs as well. Of the main stage (hon butai) Kamite, stage left, is the place of honour, and those characters that are noble occupy this space. Opposite it, stage right, is Shimote , where those of lower class stand. As the heroine, Sakurahime, falls from the grace of a princess to her eventual sale into prostitution, staging will become more and more important.
For example, in the attached image ‘Ponderous’ we can see Gonsaku and Sakurahime resting side by side. Gonsaku is Sakurahime’s employer, and thus in a greater position of power than her, and is lying to the left of the princess-come-guttersnipe. As Sakurahime has fallen from grace and surrendered her honour to Gonsaku, she will forever play shimote to his kamite.
As a set designer, you might in interested in taking into account that this transition should be carefully reflected in the set location. The buildings themselves (monastery and brothel) should be oriented with this in consideration. Although both structures themselves will remain center stage on the mawari-butai, the action will be heavily slanted in both directions and the set needs to reflect this.
More intricate than a subject than the difference between the decoration and set of the two buildings (distinctly different though they may be) is the switch between the two buildings.
Although it is possible and has been used- the method of creating a mill-like rotating series of platforms (divided by quarters) is likely a waste of resources for your particular production. Sakurahime Azuma Bunsho is an epic play, and the time periods are neatly divided by acts. In between each setting change the maku would be drawn closed and the audience invited to leave and get themselves some supper.
I would suggest this time be taken advantage of to wheel on and off the more cumbersome portions of the set, put them and secure them in place on the mawari butai and leave them ready for use.
Another interesting element to consider is the butai ; a platform as high above the stage as roof space allows for, a second stage. It is from this platform that both Sakurahime and Shiragikumaru leap, and will need to represent both the edge of a cliff and a monastery roof. I will go on to point out the obvious and say that the roof will have to be rigged with safety wires to accommodate both dramatic leaps.
The use of wires in Kabuki is rather more difficult than in most productions, due to the many layers of costumes the actors wear, however it is well documented and a common trick that was established astonishingly early in the theatre. It can be made more effective with the use of spotlights on the actors as they fall.
In addition to the suppon and the butai, there are a host of other intricate stage devices available to draw from. I will provide a brief explanation of one of the most famous and impressive, traditionally used for the famous conflict between Gonsoku, the man who accosts Sakurahime, and the priest Seigen. As the battle between these two men rages on the steps of the monastery, the stairs themselves slowly raise, twist to form a level floor, and sink back to the ground as the exterior of the monastery descends from the rafters in a series of panel. Attached is an image of this famous revolving staircase, should you care to undertake its creation.
While the two fight each other on the stone steps of the Hachiangu Shrine, the stairway gradually revolves backward, revealing the reverse side- a scene with Mt Fuji in the background. Presently the characters in various costumes emerge on to the stage. This spectacular change of the scene with an imaginative use of stage devices is called the “gando-gaeshi”
--Chiaki Yoshida
Colour is and always has been symbolic, and though this is a question best left to costume designers it should be taken into consideration in the painting of the set. Kabuki plays traditionally involve carefully placed almost garish prime colours, set next to each other to create a balance.
The maku, or rather, the traditional Japanese stage curtain, should you choose to hang one, is both famous and symbolic. The giant cloth hangs, with vertical stripes of black, green and an orange-ish brown, supposed to bring a special connection to the spiritual world.
Individually speaking, the play Sakurahime Azuma Bunsho will require two main set changes. As well as the insides of several rooms, which can be created with simple and elegant screens, the main part of the action takes place first in a monastery, then in a brothel.
The brothel district appears frequently in Kabuki. It was the playground for the plain citizen. Only here could love be enjoyed in full, without restrictions, during those strictly controlled feudal days. As such it offered the best in materials for theatre.
--Yasuji Toita
Prostitution remains today an unpleasant and rather hidden element of Japanese culture, thus plays on the red light district still resonate deeply.
In the Edo period, when Sakurahime was set, the pink-salons and red lights of today would not have been present. The courtesans of the piece (not to be confused with geisha) live in a house largely composed of wooden framework and light screens, tatami mats, typical of the standard Japanese residence. Low slung tables, bright fabrics, and softer mats for sleeping would adorn the space, an atmosphere of quiet luxury and dignity. The scene in the image ‘Sakurahime and Gonsaku’ is set in the brothel of the piece.
A monastery would be much the same, but with a few essential differences. The style would be much more traditional. The Todaiji monastery in Nada is a prime example of the sort of set that would need to be created. Pay special attention to the curled architecture of the roof, typical of the Edo Period.
Kabuki theatre is a challenge to stage, but the results will, if done correctly, be spectacular. No matter how many of these tradition you choose to incorporate in your play, I wish you well with you production. I for one look forwards to attending the show.
I hope my research was of some help.
Sincerely,
Stephanie M. Shea
Dear Ms Doe
Let me extend my most humble thanks for your decision to choose me to research the set design of your production of Sakurahime Azuma Bunsho . The resplendent theatre traditions of Kabuki have been a joy to research, and I feel confident that I have procured enough information for you to create a set faithful to the decadent spirit embodied in the play and theatre style.
The first and most important thing to remember is that the art of Kabuki itself is full of traditions that are upheld rigidly. They take their roots in the set. A series of devices are used to keep the stylized, presentational action on stage carefully involved with the audience. The hanamichi, to draw the audience and the play together, the mawari-butai to give the sense of depth and elaborateness so key to the long, intricate plays… The word Kabuki itself translates to ‘song, dance, skill’ in description of the vivid, colourful and precise craft of the actors, however this presentational style relies heavily on an accurate, intricate and realistic set to remain on its feet.
As your production is Canadian, the use of these traditions is at your discretion, however I would suggest that you bear in mind that there will no doubt be a strong Japanese presence in the audience, no doubt a large portion of whom will understand the art and be aware of breaks of tradition.
This is an image of a traditional Kabuki theatre. It is a British interpretation, and therefore partially inaccurate- in truth more of a garbled blend of both Noh and Kabuki styles and not to be considered as a blueprint for construction. However, it is worth examining as it gives a sense of the almost raucous audience participation, of the unity of stage and auditorium, of the informal sense of coming and going for a scene, an act, for lunch and then supper. No doubt this attitude will not be present as the culture of Canadian audiences is as different as the styles of acting are, however it is an element best not forgotten in any aspect of the staging of these plays.
Traditionally there would have been a sense of a nearly frenetic energy; audience paid little heed to the overarching plot. Tickets to Kabuki Theatre can be purchased to an entire production, the beginning, then end, a single act or two. There is a brief hiatus in which the audience may pick up a pre-ordered supper to bring back to the theatre, however there is essentially a constant sense of coming and going.
It begins with the use of the famous hanamichi- in English translating to ‘flower passage,’ the bridge to the back of the auditorium, about six feet wide (1.8 m. ) Actors make their entrances along this strip. Attached to this letter are several images of set, theatre, and actors from authentic Japanese productions that you may peruse, and I sincerely recommend it as words are not strong enough to convey the sense of elegance of the set.
The hanamichi is closely linked to the Noh passageway to the stage, as the dance-theatre holds its roots in the older, more shocking style. Both represent the idea of entering a world separate from the audience, however, the fact that actors cross it, stopping to touch the outstretched hands of their fans, keeps the two worlds very connected .
Both the idea of the physical touch with the audience and the concept of a path are mentioned by Kunio Komparu:
The hanamichi of Kabuki, an elevated walkway that runs from the front of the stage through the audience, is literally a path (michi) which shows that two spaces that it connectes are of the same dimensions. In this sense it is quite different in concept from the bridge of the Noh stage. The world hanamichi is now written with the character for flower (hana) but the original meaning was tip or gratuity (also pronounced hana), and the early hanamichi was indeed a path used by patrons in order to make their way through the crowds to bestow gifts on favored performers. Later it came to be used as a performance space, as an extension of the stage, and for particularly dramatic entrances and exits.
--Kunio Komparu
To elaborate, in a geographical sense the hanamichi has represented a path through a forest, a mountainous road, an inlet of water or a street or ceremonial path into a monastery or palace. Half way down the passage is a trapdoor-elevator, allowing for the most dramatic of entrances, reserved almost exclusively for the heroes or villains, or royalty in the play. Not a sense of status, exactly, but importance; secondary characters would enter through the wings.
The hanamichi is generally free of decoration or flourishes, being instead more a part of the audience than the set, and narrow enough that such things would probably catch on the cumbersome costumes of the actors.
A more fluid element of the show is the suppon . These trap doors may be created where so ever the director may desire it, with the exception of the one fixed on the hanamichi, previously mentioned, half way down the passage. At any point in this letter, please feel free to glance through the appendix for a visual interpretation of the concepts not easily expressed in words.
These trapdoors use a hand operated (originally bamboo, however there will no doubt be a change of building materials) elevator, called the seri-dashu , to lift an actor up to standing on the stage, as the actor remains stationary in a tableau on the platform.
They word suppon is Japanese for snapping turtle, because like the creature, the actor emerges head first from the shell of the stage and can be snapped up by their surroundings in an instant. They are essentially unique to Kabuki, too informal for the simple and elemental backdrop of a Noh stage and too cumbersome for the Bunraku puppets to dodge in and out of.
Invented originally for dramatic disappearances and entrances, the suppon are particularly important in plays involving ghosts, such as Sakurahime Azuma Bunsho. The deceased Shiragikumaru would appear and disappear by trap door during the final act of the play and after his death.
There are some specific traditions regarding the stage itself that at least bear looking into if not following. The important connection to the audience is, in Japan, kept by removing the arch of the stage. Unfortunately, such renovations are hardly possible nor in budget however attempts to disguise the features should be considered, should the theatre in which you are performing have one. This more box-like theatre is called the Kabuki-za.
The meaning of za is site, the place where some activity occurs as in Ginza (silver site) , the part of downtown Tokyo where silver was once minted, or Kabuki-za, where Kabuki is performed.
-Kunio Komparu
The stage is constructed to show the intricacies of the world created (notorious for the exacting details of the set) with the tool called the mawari-butai or rather, revolving stage. The main building of the piece, be it monastery, or brothel, is placed on this portion of the stage. When the stage revolves the doll-house like construction of the building is revealed, and the scene may easily be taken from outside to inside. It is not uncommon for this shift to happen while the action continues onstage, however timing will need to be precise and exact to perform this shift successfully.
As in all elements of the theatre, the staging has rigorous and rich customs as well. Of the main stage (hon butai) Kamite, stage left, is the place of honour, and those characters that are noble occupy this space. Opposite it, stage right, is Shimote , where those of lower class stand. As the heroine, Sakurahime, falls from the grace of a princess to her eventual sale into prostitution, staging will become more and more important.
For example, in the attached image ‘Ponderous’ we can see Gonsaku and Sakurahime resting side by side. Gonsaku is Sakurahime’s employer, and thus in a greater position of power than her, and is lying to the left of the princess-come-guttersnipe. As Sakurahime has fallen from grace and surrendered her honour to Gonsaku, she will forever play shimote to his kamite.
As a set designer, you might in interested in taking into account that this transition should be carefully reflected in the set location. The buildings themselves (monastery and brothel) should be oriented with this in consideration. Although both structures themselves will remain center stage on the mawari-butai, the action will be heavily slanted in both directions and the set needs to reflect this.
More intricate than a subject than the difference between the decoration and set of the two buildings (distinctly different though they may be) is the switch between the two buildings.
Although it is possible and has been used- the method of creating a mill-like rotating series of platforms (divided by quarters) is likely a waste of resources for your particular production. Sakurahime Azuma Bunsho is an epic play, and the time periods are neatly divided by acts. In between each setting change the maku would be drawn closed and the audience invited to leave and get themselves some supper.
I would suggest this time be taken advantage of to wheel on and off the more cumbersome portions of the set, put them and secure them in place on the mawari butai and leave them ready for use.
Another interesting element to consider is the butai ; a platform as high above the stage as roof space allows for, a second stage. It is from this platform that both Sakurahime and Shiragikumaru leap, and will need to represent both the edge of a cliff and a monastery roof. I will go on to point out the obvious and say that the roof will have to be rigged with safety wires to accommodate both dramatic leaps.
The use of wires in Kabuki is rather more difficult than in most productions, due to the many layers of costumes the actors wear, however it is well documented and a common trick that was established astonishingly early in the theatre. It can be made more effective with the use of spotlights on the actors as they fall.
In addition to the suppon and the butai, there are a host of other intricate stage devices available to draw from. I will provide a brief explanation of one of the most famous and impressive, traditionally used for the famous conflict between Gonsoku, the man who accosts Sakurahime, and the priest Seigen. As the battle between these two men rages on the steps of the monastery, the stairs themselves slowly raise, twist to form a level floor, and sink back to the ground as the exterior of the monastery descends from the rafters in a series of panel. Attached is an image of this famous revolving staircase, should you care to undertake its creation.
While the two fight each other on the stone steps of the Hachiangu Shrine, the stairway gradually revolves backward, revealing the reverse side- a scene with Mt Fuji in the background. Presently the characters in various costumes emerge on to the stage. This spectacular change of the scene with an imaginative use of stage devices is called the “gando-gaeshi”
--Chiaki Yoshida
Colour is and always has been symbolic, and though this is a question best left to costume designers it should be taken into consideration in the painting of the set. Kabuki plays traditionally involve carefully placed almost garish prime colours, set next to each other to create a balance.
The maku, or rather, the traditional Japanese stage curtain, should you choose to hang one, is both famous and symbolic. The giant cloth hangs, with vertical stripes of black, green and an orange-ish brown, supposed to bring a special connection to the spiritual world.
Individually speaking, the play Sakurahime Azuma Bunsho will require two main set changes. As well as the insides of several rooms, which can be created with simple and elegant screens, the main part of the action takes place first in a monastery, then in a brothel.
The brothel district appears frequently in Kabuki. It was the playground for the plain citizen. Only here could love be enjoyed in full, without restrictions, during those strictly controlled feudal days. As such it offered the best in materials for theatre.
--Yasuji Toita
Prostitution remains today an unpleasant and rather hidden element of Japanese culture, thus plays on the red light district still resonate deeply.
In the Edo period, when Sakurahime was set, the pink-salons and red lights of today would not have been present. The courtesans of the piece (not to be confused with geisha) live in a house largely composed of wooden framework and light screens, tatami mats, typical of the standard Japanese residence. Low slung tables, bright fabrics, and softer mats for sleeping would adorn the space, an atmosphere of quiet luxury and dignity. The scene in the image ‘Sakurahime and Gonsaku’ is set in the brothel of the piece.
A monastery would be much the same, but with a few essential differences. The style would be much more traditional. The Todaiji monastery in Nada is a prime example of the sort of set that would need to be created. Pay special attention to the curled architecture of the roof, typical of the Edo Period.
Kabuki theatre is a challenge to stage, but the results will, if done correctly, be spectacular. No matter how many of these tradition you choose to incorporate in your play, I wish you well with you production. I for one look forwards to attending the show.
I hope my research was of some help.
Sincerely,
Stephanie M. Shea