YAKUSHA OF HOREKI
After Genroku, the most flourishing period for Kabuki and its yakusha
was Horeki, an era covering seventy years, during which three shoguns
held sway.
Historically, Horeki endured from 1751 to 1764, the name being given to
the reign of an emperor. It came to be applied to the years preceding
and following it, a period in which the dominating influence was that
of Yoshimune, the third Shogun of the Tokugawa regime.
Owing to the extravagance of the shogunate, the country was on the
verge of bankruptcy. Immorality was on the increase, and efforts were
made to keep the restless people under control. Luxury in all shapes
and forms was frowned upon by the authorities. The literary centre
of the country was transferred from Kyoto to Yedo, and the greatest
activity was to be found in the theatres.
If Yedo Kabuki had lost its lustre when the first Ichikawa Danjuro
and Nakamura Hichisaburo passed away, its prestige was fully restored
by the second Ichikawa Danjuro and the first Sawamura Sojuro. In the
latter part of this period the fourth Danjuro was a great theatre power.
Ichikawa Danjuro, the second, was born in 1688 and died in 1758.
When a child of 10 years of age he appeared on the stage, but owing
to his father’s tragic death, was left without a stage sponsor. If
his father had lived, he would have been trained and advanced in all
possible ways. The actors of the time evidently neglected him. He
was given insignificant rôles, and was otherwise badly treated.
His mother, who had retired to live in a quiet spot outside Yedo,
declared that she would never go to the theatre to see him act until
he was earning a salary of 1000 ryo, which meant that he must become
a successful actor. The sudden taking off of his father, and the cold
attitude of the theatre folk, stimulated the young actor to hard work.
Accordingly, he went to the Narita temple, and there prayed that he
should become a more successful actor than his father. The God of
Fire that had answered his father’s prayer must have listened, it
would almost seem, to his foster-child’s petition, for while the first
Danjuro’s salary per year was 800 ryo, the second received 1270. After
this it became customary to refer to a highly salaried actor as a
“thousand-ryo yakusha”.
It was Ikushima Shingoro, of Court-scandal fame, who shielded and
protected the second Danjuro, when he was struggling to advance.
He proved a worthy successor to his father, and his place in the
annals of Kabuki is that of an original, creative actor, who not only
re-established his father’s traditions, but carried them on most
successfully.
His visit to Osaka is memorable. He had received an invitation from
Sadoshima Chogoro to play at his theatre, but Danjuro demanded an
enormous salary for those days, something quite out of the ordinary in
the way of remuneration. And Sadoshima Chogoro, thinking that Danjuro
would never ask such a sum unless he had something startling to offer,
did not hesitate to comply with the extraordinary request.
When Danjuro made his first appearance in Osaka he was not well
received, as the rivalry between the Osaka and Yedo actors was keen
even in those far-off days. It has survived until the present, a
continual state of tension, or feeling, always existing between the two
prominent stages of the country.
Something of this adverse undercurrent was displayed soon after
he had begun to act, for a man in the audience threw a mat at him to
put him to confusion, repeating his words, expecting that this would
cause the Yedo actor to become tangled up in his lines. With the
utmost composure and dignity Danjuro bowed low, apologising for the
interruption, and then, to the great surprise of the audience, repeated
a long speech backward. This greatly pleased the people, and Danjuro
eventually captivated Osaka playgoers. Even the disturbing factor,
the man who threw the mat, thought better of his behaviour, for he
afterwards called at Danjuro’s inn and apologised, and the generous
actor entertained him with sake.
While playing in Osaka, a courier all the way from Yedo brought him sad
news—the death of his adopted son. He had bestowed the name of Danjuro,
the third, upon this young actor. As he had no son of his own, it was
necessary to adopt another stage heir, and his choice fell on the
second Matsumoto Koshiro, who thus became Ichikawa Danjuro, the fourth.
The second Danjuro lived a long stage life, and died in his seventies.
Like his father, he was small of stature, and his specialty was
aragoto, or rough, imaginative acting. He was also good in plays
demanding the real in acting, for he loved to represent an otokodate,
or chivalrous commoner, and was popular as a lover and a fighter. Quick
to feel the appeal of the marionettes in the Doll-theatre, he was one
of the first actors to play in a doll-drama. His chief success in this
direction was in Chikamatsu’s _Kokusenya Kassen_, or The Battle of
Kokusenya.
His art, however, was too unreal to suit the times. His whole tendency
in acting was anti-real. To mimic the natural or represent the real
did not enter his mind. Tojuro’s principle, the use of the real and
natural, took hold and flourished in Yedo, and the audiences were quite
carried away. Danjuro remained untouched by the popular acclaim of the
real. The taste of the new generation was changed; they were tired of
his father’s methods; they wanted the real, yet Danjuro, true to
the artistic instinct within him, held steadfast to his own principles.
He not only improved his father’s plays greatly, but collaborated in
the composition of many new pieces to which he did not sign his name.
Like his father, he was given to poetry, and was the best pupil of his
poetry teacher. His diary, _Oyino Tanoshimi_, or Pleasures of Old Age,
is a model of the diary composition of the Tokugawa age. He displayed
much originality in the designing of costumes, and was an artist when
it came to making up. Filial towards his mother, he was full of love
and respect for his wife, and was so moral in those immoral days that
he was regarded as a sage.
His attitude towards the lower classes of society was generous and
magnanimous. When receiving visitors, even to the humblest menials of
the theatre, he treated them as honoured guests, wearing hakama, or
the silk skirt, rather than customary attire, as he wished to improve
the manners of the theatre folk. When invited to the residences of
the great or wealthy he was never fawning. He was, however, very
extravagant, and thought an actor should be as magnificent as possible.
Sawamura Sojuro acted on the Yedo stage with Danjuro, the second, and
is credited with greater versatility than the second Ichikawa. Born the
son of a samurai of rank in Kyoto, he was dismissed from his father’s
roof on account of dissipation. At first he served in a subordinate
capacity in the house of Sawamura Chojuro. Afterwards he undertook the
duties of a clerk in the theatre, but at last requested to be made a
follower of the Sawamura family. For some reason or other Sawamura
refused to bestow his name upon this theatre upstart, there was a
quarrel, and the would-be actor went off to seek another stage patron.
But as he could find no actor with sufficient faith in him to lend
support, he was obliged to play in the unimportant theatres of the
provinces. He was, therefore, unable to obtain the rank that would
distinguish him as an actor of ability, and had to be content with
the stage leavings, serving in the orchestra or playing small rôles.
A reconciliation with his former master was at last effected; he began
to play big rôles and was immediately successful. Bad luck, however,
pursued him, for recognition of his ability was delayed. The Osaka
stage authorities, doubtless for reasons of their own, were not willing
to grant him the rank to which he was entitled. Sawamura Chogoro at
last advised him to try his fortune in Yedo.
On his first stage experience in the Shogun’s capital he acted a minor
rôle at the Morita-za, and was not long in making a quick advance.
Within five years he ranked second to Danjuro, and after an absence of
twenty-six years returned to Osaka with all his Yedo Kabuki prestige
behind him, and received a warmer welcome than when, as a greenhorn, he
had attempted to obtain stage rank in vain.
One of Sojuro’s most famous rôles was as Yuranosuke, the leader of the
Forty-seven Ronin. Sojuro liked to act ronin, for he was a free-lance
himself, and he was seen in several pieces that had ronin as heroes.
These plays were suppressed by the authorities in order to prevent
the loyal retainers of the feudal lords from becoming dissatisfied.
One of Sojuro’s ronin plays was based on the real story of the famous
Forty-seven, whose master was forced to commit harakiri. They waited a
good opportunity, and revenged themselves upon the enemy who had caused
their lord’s death, and then all took their own lives. The samurai’s
loyalty to his lord was not merely a popular stage theme, but in real
life this laying down of life for a cause was characteristic of the
people.
The Doll-theatre dramatist, Takeda Izumo, wrote a masterpiece based
on this story, and the ningyo-tsukai, or doll-handler, managed the
Yuranosuke doll in imitation of the gestures and style of Sojuro.
As he had been brought up the son of a samurai, he knew the Nō stage,
and in all pieces influenced by the classic drama he was at home.
In contrast to Danjuro he spoke in the language of everyday life.
Danjuro delivered his lines as much as possible removed from the speech
of ordinary mortals and their affairs. Sojuro did not care for the
elaborate make-up that was so thoroughly characteristic of the first
two Ichikawas and the members of their family who were to come after.
Sojuro greatly depreciated Danjuro’s impossibilities. For instance,
Danjuro lifted up a house with both hands as a symbol of strength,
which brought forth criticism from Sojuro, whose faith in the real was
so great that he never ventured to stray on the unknown highways and
byways of the unreal.
There is a description of a stage costume he wore, one that has served
as a model which is still faithfully preserved; it was of white satin
and bore large designs of crows and storks. With this he wore a purple
head-covering. Such was the taste and elegance of this Horeki age.
Although much of it has vanished, yet traces still cling to modern
Kabuki—something to marvel at, especially when it is considered that
all this accumulation of theatre treasure-trove is as unknown to
London, Paris, and New York to-day as it was during Sojuro’s triumphant
career upon the Yedo stage.
So nearly equal were the second Ichikawa Danjuro and the first Sawamura
Sojuro that there was great difficulty in deciding which was foremost.
Danjuro was pure Yedo; therefore, no matter how nearly mated they were,
he always held a slightly higher position than Sojuro. In rank they
were equal, and close competitors in winning the favour of playgoers,
and yet off the stage it is good to know they were warm friends. Sojuro
was most accomplished. He composed short poems, was an adept in the tea
ceremony, was familiar with the Nō stage, and wrote plays.
With these two stage celebrities, there were at this time Otani
Hirotsugi, a genius in shosagoto, or the music-posture pieces of
Kabuki, and there was Bando Hikosaburo, a fine actor, whose name has
been inherited by an actor of the modern Tokyo stage. In addition,
there was a capable actor of the Ichikawa school called Ichikawa
Danzo, some years senior to the second Danjuro, who occupied a special
position. And there was the eighth Ichimura Uzaemon, an actor as well
as the proprietor of the Ichimura-za. The fifth, sixth, and seventh
Uzaemons died young, one after another, and were more concerned with
the management of their theatre than with stage appearances. But the
eighth Ichimura Uzaemon distinguished himself in both capacities.
The fourth Ichikawa Danjuro, who held the centre of the Yedo stage
in the latter part of Horeki, was by no means one of the outstanding
figures of his family, and yet he could hardly be called a failure.
He carried on the traditions without adding to them, leaving his son,
the fifth, to add fresh lustre to the Ichikawa fame. The fourth was
regarded as the illegitimate son of the second Danjuro, and his mother
was the daughter of a theatre tea-house keeper, but she had been
adopted into the family of a relative of the Ichikawa house.
Danjuro the fourth’s career was full of vicissitudes, and towards the
end of his life he cut off his hair to signify retirement from the
world, and kept religiously aloof from the theatre. When Danjuro, the
second, died, the fourth was but twenty years of age, and it took a
long time for the public to appreciate him. He was thought unworthy of
the great stage name, and it was considered that he had not inherited
the family genius. His talent matured slowly, however, and he finally
came to be looked upon as the head actor of Yedo Kabuki. He was
entirely different from his supposed father, the second Danjuro, for
he had a fine, large physique, while the second Danjuro was small; the
fourth had an oval, long face, the countenance of the second being
round; the temperament of the second Danjuro was placid, that of the
fourth was nervous. His wife was the daughter of the second Danjuro, by
adoption. For second wife, he took the daughter of the famous onnagata,
Iwai Hanshiro.
Rising on the stage, said the fourth Danjuro, was like ascending
a ladder. It must be accomplished by degrees. It was very dangerous to
ascend three steps at a time. The most interesting period in an actor’s
career was when he was one or two steps from the top of the ladder,
when he would have the greatest number of admirers. But in his own case
he said that after he had reached the top there was nothing to do but
descend.
For seventy years—during the whole of Horeki—there were three
representative actors on the stages of Kyoto and Osaka. They were
Anekawa Shinshiro, Nakamura Juzo, and Nakayama Shinkuro.
The first of these stars, Anekawa Shinshiro, was born in Osaka,
appearing when a child at the Arashi-za. His favourite rôles were
otokodate. He knew the taste of his public. The otokodate spirit
was rife among the populace, and a new feeling for their rights and
privileges was uppermost among the people.
Shinshiro lived long enough, however, to outgrow his popularity, for in
his later years he was criticised as monotonous, his acting considered
antiquated, and he failed to thrill his audience with novelties—the
same cry for the new that is common to all the stages of the world at
all times. There was another reason why Shinshiro’s popularity began
to wane, for the lack of originality within Kabuki was beginning to be
felt, and the reason interest in him declined was due largely to the
poverty of plays and the general condition of the country.
Nakamura Juzo began to rise as Shinshiro declined. Juzo had the
advantage of being ten years younger than Shinshiro, and was well-born,
since he was the son of a samurai who had turned ronin. He lived in
Osaka, and as his younger brother became an onnagata, he was also
influenced to enter the profession, performing during his earlier
career in provincial theatres, especially in Ise, and later in Yedo.
His specialty was to represent samurai, and he was excellent as a stage
fighter. No doubt his samurai antecedents had given him his taste
in this direction. As samurai of noble mien and aristocratic bearing
he was at his best. Yet the criticism of the time records that he was
a dry and uninteresting actor, and failed to choose the bright-hued
kimono bearing striking designs, that expressed the player’s taste,
delighted the people, and inspired the print artists.
Many other good actors there were when the above three stars were
shining. There was Sakiyama Koshiro, of the Osaka stage, who was active
for fifty-five years, dying at 70. He was a fine dancer, especially in
pieces adapted from the Nō. He adopted the son of a ronin to succeed
him, and his line stopped, and was then renewed again, but eventually
died away.
And there was Arashi Sanyemon, the third, the real son of the second
Arashi, who had been a Genroku star. He was not only an actor but a
theatre manager as well, and excelled in wagoto, or love-making. He was
also noted for his dancing, and played in pieces that had been handed
down by his two predecessors.
Sadoshima Chogoro, who had invited the second Danjuro to play in his
theatre in Osaka, and gave him the high salary that he demanded, was
something of an exception in the theatre world of the three stages, for
he never secured fame as an actor. He had, however, much to do with the
establishment of shosagoto, or the music-drama of Kabuki, on a higher
level.
This Sadoshima Chogoro was the son of Dempachi, a dokegata, or
comedian, and a dancer of great skill who was prominent just before
Genroku. Chogoro was fortunate in having such an experienced stage
father, and he was soon apprenticed to dancing. The chroniclers of
Kabuki tell how the father taught the boy to dance on the goban,
or small table used for playing go, the national chess game. The
child was often summoned by persons of high degree to take part in
entertainments, and once a prince ordered an artist to make a model of
him dancing on the goban.
He never seriously competed for a place among the actors, but long
remained Kabuki’s most famous dancing teacher. When he reached old age
he shaved his head and retired from the world, taking up his abode in
front of Kennin-ji, a Buddhist temple of Kyoto. Sadoshima Chogoro left
one of Kabuki’s literary treasures, the _Sadoshima Nikki_, or Journal
of Sadoshima, in which he disclosed the secrets of shosagoto.
He criticised the actors of his time as having gone astray from the
true path of dramatic art, and reflected in his writing the change that
had already set in—the beginning of the decline of Kabuki, for the
brilliancy of the Genroku period and the progress of Horeki were not
repeated in the years that followed.
[Illustration: Crest of Morita Kanya (Three-petalled blossom).]
[Illustration: Crest of Nakamura Utayemon (Kyoto shrine charm).]
[Illustration: Crest of Bando Mitsuguro (Three Chinese characters,
meaning dai, or great).]