Dance
Theatrical magic
Giannandrea Poesio
Kabuki Sadler’s Wells Theatre
It is difficult for the lay Western European theatreand dance-goer to approach kabuki without a slanted cultural view. Yet cultural bias can be an ideal framework for appreciating this ancient Japanese theatre art, by creating a subtle game of contrast between Western expectations and the content of the performance. As soon as it becomes clear that kabuki has little to do with the stereotypes most non-Japanese people grew up with, the surprise factor transforms the whole event into a captivating and mentally stimulating experience.
Indeed, the performance opens up with what could easily be regarded as the most stereotypical number, Fuji Musume (The Wisteria Maiden). The colourful set representing a tree with wisteria-covered branches, and the physical presence of traditional musicians and singers on stage send the mind immediately back to the prints, the illustrations and the exotic fairytale picture books everyone has encountered at least once in his/her life. The central character, that of the magical Wisteria Maiden, looks fairly familiar, too, and straight out of the most traditional iconography one can think of. The luscious kimono, the splendid make-up, even the ambiguity generated by the male actor in female clothes, are all part of the wellestablished knowledge that Westerners have of Japan.
Even the Maiden’s expressive and narrative movements possess all the qualities one would normally associate with traditional Japanese theatre and entertainment; they are poetically executed by Ebizo Ichikawa XI, a still young but acclaimed kabuki star and the descendant of an illustrious kabuki actors’ dynasty. There is an engaging economy of space and dynamics, and a constant game of subtle nuances, some of which are lost on the untrained or unaccustomed eye. Luckily, viewers are provided with an audio commentary, which explains and highlights some of the most distinctive and significant moments in the performance. Annoying as it might sound, the commentary helps to discern vital nuances, providing also a much-needed historical context. But after a while I removed the earphones — which were giving me instructions on how to appreciate what was happening in front of my eyes. The effect of such a little act of rebellion on my part was mesmerising. My recently acquired understanding of the actions and gestures prompted a fairly exciting interest in trying to see whether I could decipher the various movement codes with no extra aid. In the end I could not, but my analytical curiosity made me look and listen with a growing, almost childlike enthusiasm. Not unlike other viewers, I, too, was responding to theatre magic.
The real surprise, however, was to come in the second part of the programme, a rather melodramatic enactment of what the audio commentary referred to as a ghost story. As many remarked on their way out, the story of Kasane stood out for the way it brought on stage passions and even gory elements that are not usually associated with ancient Japanese theatre. Somewhere beyond the many theatrical conventions used by the two principal actors — Ebizo Ichikawa XI, now in a male role, and Kamejiro Ichikawa II as his female counterpart Kasane — unexpected dramatic depths are to be found. And more than once during the 60-minute-long performance I found myself thinking of how truly expressionistic some ideas looked and sounded, regardless of the fact that the Japanese genre normally associated with the aesthetics of Expressionism is butoh and not kabuki.
Yet again, I found myself happily getting rid of the commentary more than once, to be able to savour the enticing qualities of the performance. Poses, repetitions and, particularly, the complex language of gesture constantly captured my attention. If you want to be stimulated and are desperately seeking something different from what is currently on offer on the London stage, take the plunge. You will not be disappointed.
Previous page
