A Noh Novice’s “Night of Letting Go of Understanding” Amidst Falling Cherry Blossoms — Yasukuni Shrine Yozakura Noh

Night, bonfire, falling cherry blossoms, Noh.
Is it a dream? No, it is the story of tonight.
Hello, this is Kaori.

The first night of Yozakura Noh was “Kagekiyo: Shomon no Ashirai.”

I will send you a report on it with plenty of photos.

Before the performance, cherry blossoms dance in the wind that blows occasionally.
From the audience, there were sounds that could have been cheers or sighs.

Performance starts at 18:45.
The temperature is 18 degrees Celsius. My neck felt a bit cold when the wind blew, but perhaps it was the perfect climate to concentrate on the stage.

As a self-proclaimed complete novice, because I don't understand Noh well, I usually try to get a seat as close to the stage as possible.
This is because I want to catch even the smallest movements and voices.

However, tonight, I am in a seat quite far back.
Moreover, it is in the 'Nakashomen' (center-front) section. I cannot see the center of the stage due to the corner pillar.

I wondered how much I would actually be able to enjoy this.

——But.

This became an experience that was exactly what the Noh performers often say:
“Do not try to understand Noh; just feel it.”
In fact, I feel like I was able to concentrate even more than usual.

In the special version 'Shomon no Ashirai,' the flute is played before the Shite begins to chant.
I learned in a preparatory lecture that this represents Kagekiyo's inner state.

The sobbing sound of Hiroyuki Matsuda's flute.
Even though nothing had started yet, my heart was already full.

The chant of the Shite (Kagekiyo) that followed.
It was a sound that made it unclear whether he was 'chanting' or if it was an irrepressible cry from his heart leaking out.

This chant is extremely difficult—I had heard this in the preparatory lecture as well, and
I felt it truly hit home, thinking, 'So this is what they meant.'
Thanks to the lecture, I feel that what I can receive has increased significantly.

Kagekiyo is inside the hut. He is not yet visible.
But from that chant, the figure of Kagekiyo, withered in body and soul, seemed to rise up.


Today's seat was, in terms of the Hosho Noh Theater, even further back than the last row.

I couldn't see the fine movements.
However, the sadness and sorrow certainly reached me.

Kagekiyo is a piece with little movement.
I thought that if I couldn't hear the chant, its charm would be halved... but instead, that chant resonated clearly.

Was it the structure of the stage, or the high level of concentration of the audience?
Perhaps the unique phrasing and 'uki' (vibrato/inflection) known as 'Utai Hosho' stood out more vividly precisely because it was outdoors...

Things that might flow away if chanted flatly are captured by the ear unconsciously because of the 'mawashi' and 'uki' (similar to 'kobushi' in enka music).

Beyond the skill of the chanter, it simply reached my heart directly.

And then, the cherry blossoms fell—at the most perfect timing.

For example,
“It is like losing the staff of a blind man. It is a habit of my crippled body.”
A chant where Kagekiyo is ashamed of himself.

In modern times, it includes words that would be difficult to broadcast.
But when heard amidst the falling cherry blossoms, the very dimension of 'right or wrong of words' seems like a shallow judgment.
Before human dignity and sorrow, how superficial such categorizations of words are—I even felt that sensation.

Also,
“How embarrassing. You are in the form of a flower. If you claim to be my child...”
The blind Kagekiyo can see the beauty of his daughter.

In such a scene, the cherry blossoms scatter down.
It is the ultimate production.


In the end, he parts ways with the daughter who came all the way from Kamakura to Hyuga to see him.
The father touches his daughter's shoulder, perhaps wanting to stop her from leaving.
It was the moment when Kagekiyo, who had been trying to act like a stranger, revealed his emotions.
At that moment, they must have felt each other's body heat. I think that warmth will become a memory that supports their hearts even after they are separated.

Being able to meet the daughter he thought he had abandoned.
Loneliness, sadness, and tears that inevitably spill over.
Having regained that humanity, Kagekiyo will surely be able to use even this parting as nourishment for his heart in the future—I wanted to pray for that.

Both the chanting and the music were deeply moving.

At the end, everyone leaves through the curtain, and no one is left on stage.
After a moment of silence, the applause finally begins.

That 'pause' is also unforgettable.

I hear that Yozakura Noh is visited not only by those familiar with Noh but also by many who come as part of their annual cherry blossom tradition.
Even so, this silence and the timing of the applause.
It was a night where I was also surprised by the maturity of the audience.

Well then.

———
Noh Theater Magazine for the Outsider ↓