The Modernity of Time-Space in the Noh Theatre: The Idea of the Nest
Translated by Prof., Leon Zolbrod
When the theatrical structure of Nho is explained in terms of temporality, the bridge to the stage (hasigakari) gives us a clue. Time-space on both sides of it points to a fractured or double structure. Using Kyogen as a point of comparison, for a Hashi-no-kai("Bridge-Society") symposium held in 1981 Domoto Masaki clarified the unique theatrical structure of Noh. Although in physical terms both are performed on the same stage, in Kyogen the world on either side of the bridge belong to one horizon.
Time may be called connected. I agree with this view. Still, Domoto speaks of crossing the bridge in Noh as being in "another world." Although he may not be implying both that other world and a similarity to that other world, I think that a very spacial time-space is formed, which is neither here nor there. My point is that in the time-space the stage after one has crossed the bridge -- what it is I shall go on to explain -- yet another separate time-space is formed.
This completely new world is put together like a nest. As with an osmotic membrane, by only slight contact a kind of meeting or chance encounter takes place during a time in common. At least, I think that the structure of what we call phantasmal Noh (mugen no) can be explained this way. Such an explanation reveals for the first time how Noh much better than anything else reflects for the period when it matured the spirit of that age. We learn how the pattern of that age became transformed into a dramatic structure.
Nevertheless, I have doubt about how valuable the distinction between phantasmal Noh and phenomenal Noh (genzai no) may be when we are thinking about the essence of Noh. For the general plot structure in phantasmal Noh we can consult the Iwanami Nihon koten bungaku taikei ("Compendium of Classical Japanese Literature"). Yashima, which is being performed today, is an example, as you can see from the program notes.
A monk traveling around the country visits a particular famous place. A local person appears and tells a local legend. Then it turns out that the person is in reality someone involved in the story, and the person admits that his or her appearance is that of a temporary form. He or she asks the vision to offer prayers, and then the figure disappears. Next comes an interlude skit (ai-kyogen). An actual person of the place appears and tells essentially the same tale. The traveling monk reflects on his immediate experience and considers his situation. Now the previous local person comes back on the actual form of the character and performs in recitation and dance a projection of past events. The traveling monk is made to see before his very eyes a scene from history. Finally as the night gives way to dawn, the form of the person fades away, leaving the monk to wonder if it were all a dream. Despite variation from piece to piece, this description applies to the basic plot structure of what is called phantasmal Noh.
Now, even though we cannot see it, I want you to imagine in the center of the stage the inner part of a Buddhist temple with a dais (shumidan). On it a Buddhist image is displayed, and it has a canopy over it. Now the stage is not a stage. It is the Buddha- or central hall (shodo) of a temple. The bridge is an intermediate space. The area beyond it is a prayer hall (raido). Now, instead, replace the picture with that of a Shinto shrine. There is a main hall (honden), which encloses an inner hall (kyuden) or a shrine cabinet (zushi). Inside this is a god body (go-shintai). On the outside there is a worship hall (haiden), and in between there is an expanse of pebbles (ishi-no-ma), which connects these spaces.
What meaning can we find in the analogy between the setup of formal time-space in the plot structure of Noh and in the formal architecture of a shrine or temple? Let me say it simply. I am not claiming that the architecture of the Noh stage as we see it today has as its historical prototype the performance hall (buden), which was architecturally part of a shrine. I am suggesting the the dramaturgy of Noh and that of space in Shinto and Buddhist architecture has the same imagistic archetypal form.
If so, let us think about what is expressed in Shinto and Buddhist architecture. Take, for example, the Lotus Hall (Hokkedo) of the Todaiji Temple. The building, also called the Third-Month Hall (Sangatudo), from the outside looks like a structure enclosed under one roof. Actually, however, a central hall with a dais and a prayer hall are in line, each with its own roof. These were encircled by a palisade, and later, as if capped by a top structure, the complex became a sheathed-hall (saya-do) under a single roof.
Still, this great roof was not to protect the two halls. Rather, conceptually speaking, the idea was to embrace the central hall and the prayer hall, which had existed in a totally different dimension, by means the time of their original construction until they were roofed, together formed a single universe. That they were completely surrounded and enclosed within a balustrade (koran) can be proven architecturally.
In his Yamato koji fubutu shi (Journal of Sight at Old Temples in Yamato) Kamei Katsuichiro's question as to why at the time that the verse, "・・・・/ Like the fragrance / Of blossoms in full bloom, / The time is at its best" ( ・・・ saku hana no / niou ga gotoku / ima sakari nari), did the image of Buddha there show such an appearance of suffering? referred to the main image (honzon) of the Lotus Hall. It is important to keep his remark in mind.
Our sense of sight tells us that what is large encompasses what is small. In reality, however, on a conceptual level an existentialist image of a universe in which the whole may be found within a part, we have now discovered, is already modeled in the temple architecture of the Lotus Hall. This structure is the nest form.
Two other well-known examples deserve mention. First there is the Golden Hall (Konjikido) at the Chusonji Temple. It is a perfect example of a nest structure. The central hall, which contains a dais, is neatly enclosed in prayer hall of similar shape. The shelf (toko), however, is not on the same plane. Rather, it is built one step higher, on the level of the prayer hall. When viewed as a cross-section it has the appearance of having been cut away, as if a boil were removed. The spatial dynamics expressed in the difference of one step are architecturally authentic. In terms of their architectural strength the two roofs are skillfully fitted in. Religious faith has dominated expressive form in every detail.
Here the mummified remain of four generations of Fujiwara leaders are enshrined. As man-made mummies they are the oldest in Japan. In the center there is the first generation, Kiyohara (late Heian, dates unknown). To the right is the second generation, Motohira (dates unknown). On the left is the third generation, Hidehira (d. 1187), and also the mummified severed head of Yasuhira (1155-89). The mummy of the severed head used to be thought that of Tadahira (880-949), but anatomical research has revealed it as that of Yasuhira.
In the Azuma kagami (Mirror of the East) it is recorded: "This day, in the Province of Mutsu, Yasuhira attacked Gen-Yoshu (Yoshitune) ・・・・Yoshu entered the hall housing the Buddha, where first he killed his wife, who was in her twenty-second year, and then his daughter, in her fourth year. Finally he immolated himself ・・・・" This took place on the thirtieth day, fourth intercalary month, equivalent to the year 1185. The event becomes the ultimate background for the Noh play, Yashima.
The second example is that of the Kitano Tenmangu Shrine, which is well known from a national treasure picture scroll (e-maki). Among the forms of Shinto architecture, it represents the Gongen-zukuri style. The shrine building today is a reconstruction erected in 1607, during the Momoyama period. In the original structure of 947 the spirit of Sugawara-no Michizane (845-903), who died as a result of foul play while in exile at the Dazaifu, in Kyushu, was enshrined. The shrine is one of those characteristic of a place of worship of an ancestral spirit (reibyo).
The main hall encloses an inner zone (naijin) in which the inside hall is situated. To the front a worship hall and a low shelf with space for a bed of pebbles to join the areas. The ridge beams of the main buildings of both halls support a covering roof called "the two suspended structures over the pebble space" (ishi no ma no ryo-sage-zukuri). The prototype seems to have appeared as early as the Heian period, but with a synthesis of Shinto and Buddhist practices, the conventions of temple architecture influenced those of shrines.
Next I want to put these architectural forms into the context of the history of religion. I also want to comment on the nature of Japanese conceptions of Buddha and God. This task should clarify the historical background for the Noh plays.
To Japanese people in antiquity God was invisible, with an existence that exerted a powerful influence on human beings. Deities of the earth controlled not only the mountains, the rivers, and the sea but also the hills and the roads. Deities of the heavens, which controlled the firmament, evolved from concepts brought in from the outside in the process of establishing the ancient nation state, and such deities were thought of as descending to trees, forests, and rocks.
Such gods controlled the earthly realm. They were called ancestors by those who ruled. In addition, thunder and similar natural phenomena, as well as animals, inspired awe and were regarded as gods. Before the establishment of an emperor state these various deities or god-like manifestations (kamu-nabi) had no set place for worship.
This concept of God in time came under the strong influence of religions such as Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism, which developed in the outside world. As a result Japanese religion became more complex. That the new creeds were also used in political ideology gave yet further impetus to the growing complexity.
The term "descending and remaining in this land" (honji suijyaku), which appears in the Mahavairocana Commentary (Dainichi kyosho), occurs as early as 743, in the Emperor Shomu Tenno's Imperial Rescript (Senmyo) for the construction of the Great Buddha of the Todaiji Temple. In effect the text states that, " The teachings of Buddha are most effacious for the protection of the realm. Therefore, in the various provinces branch national temples should be constructed, and at the Todaiji Temple, as the overall national branch temple, a Great Buddha should be erected. For success in this venture prayers should be offered to the deities of the heavens, the deities of the earth, and the deified spirits of the successive emperors."
The Buddha of the Lotus of the Todaiji Temple, mentioned earlier, was cast for the occasion of this vow to erect a Great Buddha. But for some reason the Buddha was presented with an expression of suffering.
Owing to continuing political unrest, periodic epidemics, and famines, the people were dispirited. The Buddha, it would seem, looked out at a specter of hell. Then after two outbreaks of war it was destroyed. When it was rebuilt, in 1195, what did Shunjobo Chogen (1121-1206) have in mind as he enclosed the central hall and the prayer hall under a great roof?
During the hundred years or so before and after the construction of the Todaiji Temple the Japanese people's concept of God changed. For one reason , a belief in angry spirits (gory shinko) spread. Amid a succession of political disturbances the country fell into chaos. To make bad matters worse, natural disasters and epidemics took their toll. People thought that these calamities were the curse of the gods and buddhas.
Spiteful gods--these were the spirits of people who had died an unnatural death or who perished with resentment as a result of brutality. There was also a belief that superior people or those with a strong personality after death might exert a fearful spiritual influence.
Sugawara-no Michizane was enshrined as such a deity at the Kitano Tenmangu. His spirit was said to have merged with that of the thunder god and caused the whole Heian capital to tremble. To put an end to the trouble and placate these spiteful gods people fervently held "angry spirit meetings" (goryo-e).
In Noh there are a number of plays known as Soga pieces (Soga-mono). Chobuku Soga (Soga Submission), Youchi Soga (Night Revenge Soga), Zenji Soga (Zen Master Soga), and Kosode Soga (Dancing-Cloak Soga) are all about the brothers, Soga Juro (Sukenari, 1172-1193) and Goro (Tokimune, 1174-1193), and tell their story.
The name Goro ("Fifth Son") was said to be a variation of Goryo ( "honored spirit," or angry spirit). Except for Chobuku Soga these plays are all phenomenal Noh and are animated by a belief in angry spirits that ascribes godliness to supernatural heroes. While exploiting the motif of the hero in exile (kishu ryuri dan), Yashima and the other Yoshitsune pieces at the same time reveal aspects of the hero-god who suffers a cruel death.
Performing arts emerged from ties with the gods and buddhas, a feature common all over the world in the history of their developed under the influence of various performing arts is a point I need not labor here.
As a piece that closely reflects the roots of Noh, Okina (Old Man) celebrates the bountiful harvest of the five grains and peaceful life throughout the realm. In religious performances such as that of Okina offered to the gods we can observe the process of change to a theatre for the purpose of entertaining people. Meantime, the belief in angry spirits became a spiritual support for Noh. Performances to placate angry spirits were offered at festivals.
All the while the Japanese concept of God, with its characteristic ascription of godhood to people, themselves, developed further to include the idea of a living god. Taoism, with its belief in immortal beings, which derived from the philosophy of yin and yang, and esoteric Buddhism, with the idea prevalent in Shugendo, the ascetic school, about the immediate attainment of Buddhahood (sokushin jobutu), added to the synthesis out of which emerged from the worship of angry spirits a belief in a heroic human god that lived.
We have already considered the four generations of Fujiwaras at the Chusonji Temple Golden Hall. Modern research has yet to reveal the connections between these mummies and the Shugendo idea of immediate attainment of Buddhahood. Still, in the nearby "three mountains of Dewa" (Dewa sanzan) places for ascetic practice exist, and among them, on Mount Yudono, there is the most famous repository in Japan of mummies that immediately attained Buddhahood.
When we see the Noh play Katsuragi we can understand how pervasive the belief in immortals and mountain asceticism was long ago. Yet another compelling attraction of the play life in what it reveals about the origins of Japanese gods of the heavens and gods of the country (kunitsu-kami) as well as other subtle matters. Most of all, it is amazing to learn that even the gods endure misery and pain.
The stage is a world of pure white snow. The story goes as follows:
In the Province of Yamato, on Mount Katsuragi, heavy snow caused a mountain monk (yamabushi) to lose his way. He is saved by a local woman and takes shelter at her hut. When he starts to practice his late-night rituals ( at 4:00 a.m.), the local woman asks him to add a prayer for her.
It turns out that En-no Ozuno (pre-Nara period, dates uncertain; also Known as En-no Gyoja) had ordered her to build a bridge between Mount Kimpusen, in Yoshino, and Mount Katsuragi in order to help spread Buddhism. But she did not do so. Ozuno got angry and tied her up with the heavenly king, Fudo's, rope, thus causing her misery.
Thereupon, the monk prays for her relief, The woman is in actuality the God of Katsuragi, and she manifests her real form. She celebrates her emancipation from misery and dances a dance in thanksgiving.
En-no Ozuno is said to have been the founder of Shugendo, though the details are not clear. According to the Shoku Nihongi (comp. 793) he was born in the sixth year of the Emperor Yomei Tenno's reign (634). The Nihon ryoiki (Records of Japanese Spiritual Marvels; comp., ca. 810-23) relates as follows: "E-no Ubasoku (the same person) was the son of official of Kamo who became the Courtier of Upper Kamo (Taka kamo no Ason)・・・・. For more than forty years he lived in rock grottos, dressed himself in vines, ate pine needles, and bathed himself in spring water, thereby cleansing himself of the dust of worldly desire, practicing peacock magic, and attaining rare powers・・・・"
The Kamo clan, as well as the Miwa Clan, were responsible in antiquity for supervising the rituals of the Yamato Court. The Upper-Kamo (Taka Kamo ) clan shared the same lineage. Moreover, both the Kamo and the Miwa clans were descended from Omono-nushi-no-Mikoto's line, the gods of the land. In effect, En-no Ozuno was a descendant of people who were not worshipped (alien people). Such an offspring of people who were not worshipped, it would seem, planned for the sake of Buddhism to build a bridge to the mountains of Yoshino, where the gods of heaven had their base.
In my presentation I have touched on the three examples mentioned above of Shinto shrine and Buddhist architecture in order to relate the background for the emergence of Noh. Taken in a very broad to relate the manifestation in the inner zone of the nest structure of Noh must be seen as being related to the spiteful gods.
Close to Zeami, as well, there must have been angry spirits. They must have had not merely an existence as illusions but as an actually felt presence. Otherwise, it would have been impossible for so many angry spirits to have occupied the world of Noh. It is no exaggeration to say that Noh is filled with angry spirits. Indeed, it is a theatre of placation of angry spirits. Moreover, the angry spirits, embodies a perspective that links this world with the other world.
The dramaturgy of Noh, I believe, is related by way of analogy to the dramaturgy of architectural space in Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples. With the nest structure as a controlling metaphor we may establish a universal image of existence.
By this means a recognition that time-space in the Noh theatre consists of multiple layers allows a connection with modern existential beliefs. It is not so long ago that as a result of the achievements of modern Physics we discovered such an image of the universe. When we think about it, Noh reveals how the essence of art may be found in the nest structure.
In a slight movement of fingertips or a faint gesture with a fan there lurks a tightly bundled image. Moreover, in the various little boxes there may be found an abstraction of the large box. That is why with just a tiny movement of a fingertip Noh suddenly steps into the realm of thought. Indeed, one ought to say that Noh incubates such possibilities. This is because thought passes through our body and is changed into a sense of sight.
Noh depends entirely on the ability of the performer and that of the dancer. Nevertheless, even in clarifying the nest structure by way of its performance, Noh goes beyond being a painstakingly preserved traditional performing art. It verifies our existence now. I believe in Noh as one of the ways to achieve a vital performing art.
March is said to be the season for performing Yashima. Is it because by means of remembering a victorious battle one may thereby hope to placate the spirit of Yoshitsune, who went on to suffer on the thirtieth of the intercalary forth month a cruel and brutal death? If so, my chance to speak to you about my ideas in this way can also be called an act of fate.
The author of "The Modernity of Time-Space in the Noh Theatre", Yamada Tadami, born 1945,is an illustrator and artist who has created unique philosophical and visionary world. His contributions to books and advertising media have been highly acclaimed. During the past thirty years his work has been reprinted in more than fifty art annuals and art book in Japan and abroad.
The translator, Leon Zolbrod, born 1930, is Professor of Japanese Literature, University of British Colombia, where he has taught since 1966. He was on study leaves as a Japan Foundation Fellow at the Department of Comparative Culture, Tokyo University. Since 1971 he had practiced Noh chanting. In 1981-82 and again since autumn in 1985 he had studied Noh dance with the Umewaka kennokai group. His translation of Ugetu Monogatari (1974) reprinted twice (1977,1984). He is also the author of Haiku Painting(1982). Copyright(C)1985 Yamada Tadami. All rights reserved. 禁無断転載。 著作権は山田維史及びLeon Zolbrodに属します。