The Man Who Saved Kabuki

Faubion Bowers, ca. 1945. (Photograph courtesy of Faubion Bowers.)

The Man Who Saved Kabuki

By
Shiro Okamoto

Translated and Adapted

By
Samuel L. Leiter

University of Hawai‘i Press

Honolulu
 © 2001 University of Hawai‘i Press

All rights reserved

Printed in the United States of America

06 05 04 03 02 01 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Okamoto, Shiro.
[Kabuki o sukutta otoko. English]
The man who saved Kabuki : Faubion Bowers and theatre censorship
in occupied Japan / Shiro Okamoto ; translated and adapted by Samuel L. Leiter.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 0–8248–2382–6 (cloth : alk. paper) —
ISBN 0–8248–2441–5 (pbk. : alk. paper)
1. Bowers, Faubion, 1917– 2. Bowers, Faubion, 1917—Views on kabuki.
3. United States. Army—Officers—Biography. 4. Japan—History—
Allied occupation, 1945–1952. 5. Kabuki. I. Title.

DS890.B68 O3313 2001

952.04'092—dc21 00–066591

University of Hawai‘i Press books are printed on

acid-free paper and meet the guidelines for permanence and
durability of the Council on Library Resources.

Designed by Janette Thompson (Jansom)

Printed by The Maple-Vail Book Manufacturing Group

Contents

Translator’s Introduction vii

Author’s Introduction xv

Chapter 1 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945 1

Chapter 2 Wartime Kabuki: Censorship on the Home Front 17

Chapter 3 The Occupation Commences and the Actors Return 30

Chapter 4 Kabuki Censorship Begins: The “Terakoya” Incident 43

Chapter 5 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 66

Chapter 6 Kabuki’s Suffering Ends 103

Chapter 7 Conclusion 115

Epilogue Letter from Kawatake Shigetoshi to Faubion Bowers 129

Appendix A Kabuki Chronology, 1940–1948 131

Appendix B Kabuki Plot Summaries 155

Notes 181

Selected Bibliography 193

Index 197

v
Translator’s Introduction

Not long after World War II ended, the American Occupation, led by
Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers (SCAP) Gen. Douglas Mac-
Arthur was ready to administer a lethal dose of censorship that would
have killed Japan’s great classical theatre, kabuki. The tombstone over its
grave might have read, “Here lies kabuki, 1603–1946, able like a willow to
adapt to three and a half centuries of native oppression, killed in a year by
democracy.”
Kabuki is famed for its remarkable diversity of styles, ranging from
flamboyant fantasy to roguish realism and from everyday behavior to
lyrical dance, with characters inspired by the highest and lowest of Toku-
gawa (1603–1868) and early Meiji period (1868–1912) individuals, both fic-
tional and real, and with themes reflecting the social, cultural, and political
concerns of the premodern feudal era. Kabuki also had a long history of
official oppression under both the Tokugawa shogunate and the imperial
government that succeeded it. However, it has always managed to survive
the efforts to control or even eliminate it and, while rarely overtly critical
of the powers-that-be, to express the dreams and aspirations of the citizens
who thronged to its playhouses. Although kabuki was never allowed to
develop into a true theatre of ideas, evolving instead into a primarily aes-
thetic genre, ideas cannot be eradicated from the drama; they live on in the
theatrical subtext regardless of the playwright’s intentions. From today’s per-
spective, in fact, even the distance of time does not hide kabuki’s poten-
tially subversive tendencies. It is clear that, for a variety of reasons, one
administration after another saw in this people’s theatre the threat it rep-
resented to the maintenance of the status quo, which was always the Toku-
gawa government’s principal objective. Thus, the first three and a half cen-
turies of kabuki’s life were a constant struggle between this art form’s
unquenchable desire for expression and the hegemony’s wish for control.
Still, despite volumes of laws passed to suppress it, despite being forced
to exist without women to play its female characters, despite being for-
bidden to represent contemporary events or to use the real names of
members of the samurai class, despite restrictions on the materials it could

vii
viii Translator’s Introduction

use for costumes and props, despite arrests of actors for living too well,
despite limits placed on the number of theatres that could be licensed,
despite the forced transfer of Edo’s three major playhouses to the distant
outreaches of the city’s boundaries, despite being forced during wartime to
change famous lines to make them sound more patriotic, despite these and
other constraints, kabuki endured. But then came the Occupation Army
and, in its attempt to democratize Japan, the ironic possibility that what
had so long been able to skirt the dangers of native antipathy might, in the
space of a few months, either die or be transmuted into a frighteningly pale
reflection of what it formerly had been.
But circumstances once more favored kabuki’s continuance, a major
force behind its survival coming not from within its own domain but from
the unlikely source of a member of the conquering army. That source was
the late Faubion Bowers, the subject of this book.
Although various aspects of the Occupation’s censorship activities have
been described in many sourcesmost recently in a chapter of John Dower’s
marvelous Embracing Defeat: Japan in the Wake of World War II (1999)sur-
prisingly little has appeared in English about its theatre censorship. This
book is the first to address the issue at any length.
One of the first books to address the subject was Bowers’s own 1952
Japanese Theatre, in which he very briefly discusses the Occupation censor-
ship.1 A fuller, although still brief, treatment was provided by Earle Ernst,
the man Bowers replaced as head of theatre censorship for the Occupa-
tion. Ernst’s highly regarded book, The Kabuki Theatre, originally published
in 1956, discusses the censorship in greater detail than does Bowers’s book.2
Neither man, by the way, mentions his own role as a censor. As The Man
Who Saved Kabuki points out, there is still some controversy regarding who,
Bowers or Ernst, accomplished more by way of “saving” kabuki. Other dis-
cussions appear in a small number of scattered articles and interviews.
Although this book’s principal concern is with Faubion Bowers’s
achievement in Occupation Japan, it is also about the meaning and impact
of that achievement on postwar Japanese culture. Many readers will want
to know something more about Bowers than is provided in following
chapters, where the focus is primarily on the years between 1940 and 1948.
Thus, I have provided here in my introduction a brief sketch of Bowers’s
career.
As Mr. Okamoto’s own introduction suggests, The Man Who Saved
Kabuki is far from an English-language double of his Japanese original. I
have pared away much of Mr. Okamoto’s commentary on Bowers’s per-
sonal life and character in order to emphasize the events through which
Bowers lived and the historical role he played in them. The book, of course,
 Translator’s Introduction ix

is called The Man Who Saved Kabuki and its inspiration was Faubion Bowers,
so it must remain, in essence, a biographical treatment of a brief period in
his life. Unlike Kyoko Hirano’s study of Occupation film censorship, which
gives a comprehensive overview of that subject,3 this book tells the story
of kabuki censorship as it was affected by a single individual who had a
commanding influence over it. Thus, while it provides hitherto little-known
details concerning this one facet of Occupation censorship, the focus always
remains on Bowers’s relationship to that censorship and not on the censor-
ship per se. Moreover, the overriding concern here is with kabuki censor-
ship, although restrictions were placed on other forms of Japanese theatre
as well, some of them briefly touched on in the text. Consequently, this
book is not intended as a complete study of Occupation censorship of Japa-
nese theatre from 1945–1952. Unlike censorship in other cultural areas,
which shifted from a relatively liberal to an increasingly conservative posi-
tion as Cold War realities moved in, kabuki, thanks to Bowers, was released
from its principal censorship concerns by the time he left Japan in 1948.
My biographical sketch gives both an overview of Bowers’s contribu-
tions outside of his activities in the 1940s and, borrowing from material I
have excised from Mr. Okamoto’s main text, introduces more personal
material about him.

h,H
Faubion Bowers was born in Miami, Oklahoma, on January 29, 1917, at-
tended the University of Oklahoma for a year, and moved to New York,
where he briefly attended Columbia University in 1935, followed by a stay
at France’s Université de Poitiers. In France, he also studied piano with
Alfred Cortot at the École Normale de Musique, in 1936. Returning to New
York, he was accepted as a piano student at the Juilliard School of Music
but quit when he came to believe he was not sufficiently talented to have
a career as a concert pianist. Nevertheless, reports by those who heard him
in his youth claim that he was, indeed, gifted. Rootless and filled with wan-
derlust, he decided to study Indonesian gamelan music. In 1940, on his way
to Southeast Asia, however, he stopped off in Japan, and, as this book re-
veals, thus began his intimate association with that nation.
Bowers remained in Japan for a year. Mr. Okamoto describes aspects
of Bowers’s life relating to Japan and the Japanese language between 1940
and 1948, so I will not repeat them here other than to note that, having
served as an interpreter for the American military during the war, Bowers
returned to Japan in 1945 and made his mark there as “the man who
saved kabuki.” After he left Japan in 1948, he and his future wife, the
Indian writer Santha Rama Rau (they married in 1951 and divorced in
x Translator’s Introduction

1966) toured many countries in Asia, studying dance and theatre. This led
to his books, Dance in India (1953) and the epochal Theatre in the East:
A Survey of Asian Dance and Drama (1956), the first truly comprehensive
account of Asian theatre and dance ever published in English. By this time
he had, of course, already published his book on Japanese theatre.
Bowers eventually wrote other books, including a major study of the
Russian composer Alexander Scriabin. Writing about Scriabin was one of
Bowers’s lifelong passions; indeed, he was one of the most highly respected
Scriabin experts of his day. Thousands of Bowers’s articles on a variety of
cultural topicsboth related and unrelated to Japanappeared in newspa-
pers and magazines, and Japanese journalists often interviewed him. He
also appeared in, wrote, or produced over fifty television programs on art,
music, and travel. His kabuki documentary, The Cruelty of Beauty, aired on
PBS (Public Broadcasting System) in 1981, remains a pathbreaking contri-
bution. Bowers returned to Japan many times, usually as a guest of the
Sh
chiku Corporation, which controls most kabuki production. Although
he never obtained a formal degree, he taught for brief periods at several
colleges and universities in Japan, Indonesia, and the United States.
Many remember Bowers as the overseas voice of kabuki in English,
as he was the principal simultaneous earphone interpreter for almost every
kabuki postwar tour to the United States. Important non-kabuki Japanese
tours also benefited from his simultaneous translations, among them the
Ninagawa Yukio production of Macbeth (1990) and the Suzuki Tadashi stag-
ing of Dionysus (1992). A polyglot, he also did earphone translations for
several significant French productions, including the work of Jean-Louis
Barrault and Ariane Mnouchkine. He was honored by the Japanese gov-
ernment with the Order of the Sacred Treasure, presented to him by the
emperor of Japan, and he also held the Bronze Star (1944) and Oak Leaf
Cluster (1945) for his wartime efforts.
Bowers was a tall, well-groomed, distinguished-looking man, who
carried himself with theatrical flair. In cooler weather, he often tossed a
scarf dashingly around his neck and shoulders. His refined speech was fre-
quently interlarded with amusing outbursts of profanity. He was ineffably
charming but wickedly manipulative, as Mr. Okamoto’s book reveals, and
could be remarkably self-serving when the spirit moved him. Spirits of an-
other sort were also one of his admitted weaknesses, and a car crash he
experienced during his Occupation years was linked to this prediliction.4
One of his more engaging traits, which endeared him to his fellow censor-
ship workers, was his propensity for reciting famous kabuki speeches in re-
spectful imitation of famous kabuki actors, spouting the lines in authentic
seven-five meter (shichigo-ch
).
Bowers was remarkably frank about his homosexuality and told the
 Translator’s Introduction xi

rather embarrassed Mr. Okamoto that he could freely write about his
sex life if he chose. He revealed that during the Occupation he had had
flirtationsunconsummated, he insistedwith two distinguished kabuki
stars, Nakamura Utaemon VI and Onoe Sh
roku II. At the same time, he
insisted to Mr. Okamoto that he felt homosexuality to be harmful to kabuki’s
female-role specialists, the onnagata. He did not elaborate on this notion
other than to say, “I believed that the best onnagata were not homosexuals.
I think that if an onnagata were homosexual, his art would deteriorate.” He
noted that he shared this idea with the great but homophobic actor Onoe
Kikugor
VI, who played male and female roles with equal dexterity.
Bowers was known for his affability at social gatherings, but he had a
hard time employing his sociability during the Occupation, when he found
himself very much a loner. A passage in the original book captures this
aspect of his personality during that period.

Bowers was a lost soul among the members of the Occupation. He could
not enjoy himself even with Americans, whose conversations he found
meaningless. He barely participated in groups. The world of kabuki was
always somewhere that Bowers could feel at ease. He found his mo-
ments of greatest happiness while wrapped in his coat and gloves,
shivering in the unheated theatre, watching the actors rehearse. He
favored kabuki’s gorgeous, charm-filled, fictional world over the ugliness
and filth of reality; he had little faith in reality but found truth in un-
reality. In Japan’s traditional art of kabuki, Bowers discovered what
was, to him, the greatest beauty, goodness, and truth. He was able to
relax and entrust his body and soul not to a club where his own com-
patriots gathered but to the world of kabuki, where people of another
country gathered.

Bowers always considered himself something of a vagabond and, in

later years, put material comfort second to the liberty he enjoyed as a free-
lance writer and translator. Although he acknowledged it as a personal
weakness, he considered holding a regular job boring. Consequently, he
never had one. When a prewar Japanese friend came to him during the
job-short Occupation hoping Bowers could snare him a position, Bowers
considered the request trivial. The friend, interviewed by Mr. Okamoto,
smiled wryly and recounted, “Bowers did not consider working as a means
to make a living. Working so you could eat was not important to him. He
lacked the smell of everyday life. Ultimately, he never offered or found me
a job. What he said was, ‘To be in service to a lord is an unenviable lot.’ ”
This remark was a famous quote from the kabuki play “Terakoya,” discussed
in the text.
As Bowers aged and was forced to live on a pension, his financial
xii Translator’s Introduction

status was always touch and go. Yet he was remarkably generous and,
during my work on adapting this book, surprised me on several occasions
by mailing me several beautiful kabuki books from his collection, paying
the substantial postage himself. He lived in a shabby walk-up apartment
on East Ninety-Fourth Street near Third Avenue in Manhattan, likened by
Mr. Okamoto to Charlie Chaplin’s flat in Limelight. In his later years, he
suffered from heart ailments and emphysema (he was a chain smoker)
and needed a walking stick to help negotiate New York’s streets. Heand
his apartmentcan be seen in the penultimate year of his life in Kabuki o
Sukutta Amerikajin (The American Who Saved Kabuki), a documentary about
him that was produced by Mr. Okamoto and shown throughout Japan on
NHK (Nippon H
s
Ky
kai) in January 1999. Late that year, his failure to
attend an appointment alarmed his friends. The police were notified, and
Bowers was found in his apartment. He had passed away at his desk on
November 16 while editing an interview for The Journal of the Scriabin Society
of America. It was three days after my adaptation had been completed.

h,H
To tell the story of these activities, Chapter 1, which is the most tradition-
ally biographical section of the book, follows Bowers from 1940–1945, cov-
ering the year he spent in Japan, 1940–1941, when he first encountered
and fell in love with kabuki; his wartime language training and intelligence
work; and his arrival at Atsugi Airfield in 1945, when he may have been
the first American soldier to set foot on postwar Japanese soil. This back-
ground is essential to understanding his later accomplishments.
As mentioned earlier, when the Occupation began to censor kabuki,
this classical theatre only moved from one form of oppression to another.
Wartime limitations imposed on kabuki by the Japanese government rivaled
those of the Occupation in strictness. Therefore, in 1947, when Bowers
“saved” kabuki, it had, in fact, been effectively silenced for much longer
than the first two years of the Occupation. The details of this story are
given in Chapter 2, which also presents a chilling picture of the hardships
created by wartime conditions for kabuki’s artists. Very little of this chapter’s
material has ever before appeared in English.
Chapter 3 recounts the events following the arrival of Gen. MacArthur
and Bowers in Japan and depicts the nature of the work that Bowers did
for SCAP. This account allows us to appreciate the unique power Bowers
accrued as MacArthur’s aide, without which he would never have been
able to rescue kabuki from a censorship that sought to destroy or, at the
very least, emasculate it.
In Chapter 4, the story of the Occupation censorship is introduced,
 Translator’s Introduction xiii

beginning with the principles on which it was founded. This includes a

thoughtful discussion of the contradictions between MacArthur’s insistence
on free speech as essential to a democracy and the lengths to which the
Occupation went in controlling and monitoring all forms of public expres-
sion, including kabuki. The chapter culminates in a description and exami-
nation of the controversial events of November 1945, known as “the ‘Tera-
koya’ incident,” when the Occupation censorship authorities first acted to
shut down kabuki for what the American authoritiesand some Japanese
considered its potentially dangerous feudalistic themes.
Chapter 5 presents a well-documented account of precisely how
Bowers was able to rescue kabuki from imminent destruction and why he
became known as “the man who saved kabuki.” Chapter Six explains the
happy results of Bowers’s intervention, when kabuki was effectively freed
from censorship, and introduces some unusually controversial ideas related
to whether kabuki was worth preserving after all. The concluding chapter,
Chapter 7, while tying together and evaluating the book’s main issues,
suggests the impact that Bowers had on traditional Japanese theatrical
culture.
I have, with Mr. Okamoto’s approval, made many large cuts and trans-
positions. Material deemed digressive has been removed; the remaining
contents frequently have been shortened and condensed. The original
eleven chapters have been conflated into seven. Material has been moved
from one section to another, and sometimes from one chapter to another.
Chapter titles have been changed. Moreover, I have added notes, since the
original does not provide them. At my request, Mr. Okamoto kindly re-
turned to his sources in order to supply documentation for many of the
sources to which I did not have access. Only the quotations from Mr. Oka-
moto’s several interviews, with Bowers and others, remain undocumented.
Except where the context makes it obvious, all other notes are mine. On
several occasions, I have interpolated additional materialwith documen-
tation, where appropriatein order to supplement Mr. Okamoto’s com-
mentary. Apart from the author’s name, Japanese names are given in tradi-
tional Japanese order, family name first. The translation retains the Japanese
titles of books and plays mentioned, but the notes provide English versions
of these titles. Where published English sources are quoted, I have given
these in their original English form. I have also prepared two appendices.
Appendix A is a detailed chronology of major kabuki events from 1940 to
1948. No such chronology presently exists in English. Appendix B provides
brief summaries and background on the kabuki plays mentioned in the text.
For the sake of narrative clarity, a small number of plots are also included
in the main text. Finally, while the book’s English title is a direct translation
xiv Translator’s Introduction

of the Japanese title, Kabuki o Sukutta Otoko, the subtitle differs considerably.
The Japanese subtitle, Maks no Fukukan Fu
bian Bawzu means “Mac-
Arthur’s Aide-de-Camp Faubion Bowers.” I have changed this to “Faubion
Bowers and Theatre Censorship in Occupied Japan.”

h,H
Faubion Bowers provided invaluable assistance in the preparation of this
volume. He read the entire manuscript and often corrected passages or
suggested additional material for inclusion. I also must thank Professor Kei
Hibino of Seikei University, Tokyo, and Miss Keiko Yoshizawa, of New York,
for their indefatigable assistance. Professor Hibino was a faithful respondent
to my many e-mail queries about translation problems. Miss Yoshizawa, my
graduate student at Brooklyn College, CUNY, read most of the manuscript
and compared it to the original, red-flagging my mistakes or offering alter-
native suggestions. Professor Kamiyama Akira of Seij
University provided
documentation to help flesh out the chronology, for which I am very
grateful. Donald Richie, eminent expert on things Japanese and witness to
various events described in the book, offered both extremely useful infor-
mation and some provocative opinions. Professors Leonard Pronko and Bar-
bara Thornbury had valuable suggestions for improving the manuscript.
My good friend, Professor James R. Brandon, of the University of Hawai‘i,
was a source of both constant encouragement and, because of his own as
yet unpublished research on the period, critical stimulation. Finally, and
as always, I thank my wife, Marcia, for sharing me once again with my
computer.

Samuel L. Leiter
Author’s Introduction

When looking at photographs of Gen. Douglas MacArthur during the time

that he was known as SCAP, one sees next to him a tall, aristocratic-looking
young man. He is dressed in military uniform and hat, his mouth drawn
tight, and his face rather serious. His name is Faubion Bowers, a twenty-
eight-year-old army major when he arrived in Japan. He served as Mac-
Arthur’s aide-de-camp and as his interpreter during the early Occupation.
Bowers lived in one of the apartments at the foot of the American
embassy in Tokyo’s Akasaka section, which is where MacArthur was domi-
ciled, and he was assigned a small office next to MacArthur’s at General
Headquarters (GHQ) in the Dai-Ichi Insurance Building (Dai-Ichi Seimei
Biru). They rode together to and from the embassy and office. Without
Bowers’s permission, even high members of the Japanese government or
top-ranking GHQ officers could not meet with the general.
Bowers worked both as translator and as MacArthur’s secretary, so
he took part in many of postwar Japan’s historical incidents, including the
first meeting between Emperor Hirohito and MacArthur.
But the reason that Bowers’s name is remembered is for more than
his job as MacArthur’s aide. He was the man who saved kabuki. He was a
kabuki connoisseur and scholar who knew more about this theatre than
most Japanese. Few kabuki actors do not know his name.
As MacArthur’s GHQ Occupation policies got under way, kabuki was
quickly banished because it was deemed an obstacle to the democratiza-
tion of Japan. Its appreciation of feudal virtues, such as loyalty to one’s lord,
seppuku (or harakiri), and revenge were beyond the pale. In fact, two-thirds
of the available kabuki scripts, including classical dramas, dances, and
modern kabuki (shin kabuki), were forbidden. It was Faubion Bowers who
was responsible for their revival. This highly placed young man opposed
MacArthur’s cultural policies and overturned those that had controlled
kabuki for two years. It is a historical irony that working for GHQ was an
ambivalent young American who served two flags, that of America and
that of kabuki. The irony was that he saved the 350-year-old kabuki from
imminent death while simultaneously protecting America from the stigma

xv
xvi Author’s Introduction

of being the destroyer of one of Japan’s traditional and precious cultural

treasures.
Remove Bowers from the early days of the Occupation and you would
not be able to speak of the kabuki we know today. Who knows what
would have happened if there had not been someone of his sympathy
and knowledge? Kabuki’s existence might have been prolonged for a time,
but it would have taken many years before it was restored to its prior
state, and it would not have been able to avoid a change in its character. In
this sense, we can only be grateful that this young kabuki lover served
in America’s Occupation forces and, moreover, held a high position as
MacArthur’s aide.
In May and December 1997, I visited Faubion Bowers in New York.
He rewound the film of his Occupation memories from fifty years earlier,
zooming in and out on plays he had released from censorship. What kind
of scenes came into focus? The film of his memory had dulled over the
years, but the vague images that arise dance clearly in my eyes.

h,H
I first became interested in this project in the early spring of 1996,
when my friend, actor-director Hori Teruhiko, asked me if I knew Faubion
Bowers. Bowers had done the simultaneous translation for a play in which
Hori acted in New York. Hori told me about some of the circumstances in
which, when GHQ banned kabuki, Bowers had lifted the censorship. At
the time, I had no knowledge about any of these events.
To me, born in 1946, the history of the Occupationwhich ran from
1945 to April 28, 1952, when it ended with the signing of the peace treaty
in San Franciscowas fairly close to my own history. Whatever I may have
learned of it in grade school seems to have made little impression. When I
heard Hori’s story, though, I thought that researching kabuki censorship
would be a good chance to learn about the Occupation years, a good way
to fill in the blanks in my own history. I already had been thinking that I
wanted to learn about my own life’s starting point, that is to say the start-
ing point of postwar Japan during the Occupation. After looking a bit into
prewar and postwar kabuki trends, I began my research in earnest in the
fall of 1996.
This book’s main theme is the banishment and liberation of kabuki
under the Occupation, a record of kabuki’s hell and heaven. I also intended
it as a record of the Occupation’s witchhunt from which kabuki suffered as
a representative Japanese performing art.
In the original, Japanese, version of this book, I introduced subjects
not specifically related to kabuki’s problems. I recounted the outlines of the
 Author’s Introduction xvii

war in the Pacific and MacArthur’s role in the Allies’s victory. I discussed
whether, in surrendering under the terms of the Potsdam Declaration, Japan
had done so conditionally or unconditionally. I examined what might have
been said at the historic first meeting between MacArthur and Hirohito. I
looked into the problem of the emperor’s war responsibility. I pondered
broad questions of culture and kabuki’s place in it. However, Samuel L.
Leiter, my translator, convinced me that for English readers, much of this
would be irrelevant, as it pulled the focus from what I wanted to be my
prime objective, which was to tell about kabuki under the Occupation. As
a result, in this English version, most of my discussions of matters periph-
eral to Bowers’s contributions have been eliminated. As explained in Dr.
Leiter’s introduction, other changes were also made.
I realized that much research had been done on the political, eco-
nomic, and social aspects of the Occupation but that very little was avail-
able on the cultural side. Many scholars, Japanese included, have gone
over and over Japan’s postwar reforms and changes; and there have been
many studies of postwar revolutions in science and technology and in
ideas and lifestyles. But the number of postwar cultural studies was very
slim. How exactly did Japan’s culture clash with Occupation policy? This
book is the first to deal exclusively with this clash in terms of Japan’s clas-
sical kabuki theatre.
If one word could sum up MacArthur’s Occupation policies with
regard to Japan’s previous living standards it would be “denial.” The Occu-
pation tried to destroy the entire structure of Japan’s history and to create
a new one in its place. It tried to establish something entirely different
from traditional foundations and ideas, to eliminate unchanging principles
peculiar to Japan. MacArthur sought to replace Japan’s acidic soil with
alkali soil in an effort to change the indigenous vegetation.
More than a half-century after the war, we must acknowledge that
changes in the legal system and in science, technology, and lifestyle were
accomplished pretty much as the Americans desired, although there are
various opinions about the results. However, in the cultural sphere, success
is more dubious. Today’s culture points to the particular principles that flow
through Japanese blood as social genes and to the most basic qualities that
determine what it is to be Japanese.
Did or did not Japan’s basic qualities, that is, its culture and people,
change? Is it or is it not possible for it to change? Ultimately, when we
consider the Occupation’s cultural policy in terms of its treatment of kabuki,
we cannot escape these problems.
Despite some experience as a theatre and music journalist in Osaka, I
still do not consider myself a theatre specialist. But I think that my love for
xviii Author’s Introduction

kabuki, both spiritually and materially, has inspired my writing of this book.
The late Faubion Bowers was of inestimable help during my two research
visits to New York. I also wish to express my gratitude to Mr. Kamaya Masa-
nori, who serves as the representative of the Rissh
K
seikai Buddhist
organization at the United Nations, in New York City, and who kindly twice
served as my interpreter in America. In addition, my thanks go to various
people in the kabuki world and to friends and acquaintances of Mr. Bowers
who happily responded to my requests for information.
Professor Kawatake Toshio of Waseda University allowed me access
to materials belonging to his late father, Professor Kawatake Shigetoshi.
And I want to thank Messrs. Nakano Kazuo and Hosokawa Rysei of the
Sheisha Publishing Company, as well as members of its editorial staff, for
their helpful encouragement.

Shiro Okamoto
Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940 –1945
In late March 1940, Faubion Bowers entered Japan on a mail-carrying
cargo boat out of Seattle that docked at Yokohoma. The boat was making a
temporary stop on its way to Singapore. The Oklahoma-born Bowers, of
Cherokee ancestry, had dreamed of becoming a concert pianist, for which
he had studied in France and at New York’s Juilliard School of Music.
Deciding that he was insufficiently talented for his chosen career, he elected
to study Indonesian gamelan music in its native environment. He was on
his way to Indonesia when he arrived in Japan.
It cost only one hundred dollars in 1940 to sail to Japan on a mail
boat owned by the Nihon Y
sen Company, a cargo company that allowed
a small number of passengers on its ships. The boat was to dock at Yoko-
hama at the end of March 1940, load Japanese exports, and sail two weeks
later from Kobe. The tour company sent its passengers train tickets to Kobe,
the price being included in the cost of the boat passage. Bowers spent the
time prior to his departure for Kobe visiting Tokyo, where he had a life-
changing experience. “I was taking a stroll about the Ginza when I acciden-
tally wandered into the Kabuki-za. I thought it was a temple.”
The Kabuki-za was, and remains, Tokyo’s most famous theatre, having
been built in 1889. It was destroyed by fire in 1922 as the result of a short
circuit, although many still think it was destroyed in the great Kant earth-
quake of 1923, which brought down many other theatres. That earthquake
did, however, interrupt its reconstruction. A rebuilt Kabuki-za opened in
December 1925. This was a majestic building combining the elegance of
Nara period architecture with the flamboyance of the Momoyama period.

1
2 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945

It is not hard to imagine how Bowers could have mistaken the prewar
Kabuki-za’s architecture for that of a temple. This building was wiped out
in its turn by the firebombing of Tokyo on May 25, 1945. The present
Kabuki-za was opened on the same site in January 1951. It closely resem-
bles the prewar version, one major difference being that it has only two,
instead of three, large gables. It will enjoy its golden anniversary in 2001,
the year this book is published.
Bowers recalled, “It cost one yen to watch from the fourth floor ‘stand-
ing room’ (tachimi). I was amazed. They were doing Ch
shingura.”1
Ch
shingura ran at the Kabuki-za from March 1 to 26, 1940, in a rela-
tively full-length version. The troupe leader (zagashira) was Ichimura Uzae-
mon XV (1874–1945), who played both Enya Hangan and Kanpei.
Most kabuki programs are composed of scenes and acts selected from
the classics, supplemented by a dance or dance drama. Occasionally, a
“new,” or shin, kabuki drama—one written in the twentieth century and
employing more realistic dramaturgy than the older plays—is offered. Today,
there are invariably two separate programs, one for the matinee (generally
from 11:00 A.M. to 4:00 P.M.) and one for the evening performance (gen-
erally from 4:30 P.M. to 9:30 P.M.). In the immediate prewar years, and
during the war itself, there were many months in which two programs
were given daily, but there were also months in which only one program
was offered, with the curtain opening around 5:00 P.M. The system of sev-
eral works on the same bill is called midori, a practice first instituted in the

Figure 1 The Kabuki-za as it looked in 1940.

 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945 3

Figure 2 The post-1951 Kabuki-za as it appeared in the 1950s. Compare its two
gables to the three shown in the 1940 photograph of the earlier building. (Photo-
graph courtesy of Faubion Bowers.)

mid-nineteenth century; the much less common practice of presenting full-

length productions is known as tshi kygen. Full-length kabuki plays are
very long, so even these are almost always scaled down. Both because of
the esteem in which it is held, and because most of its scenes remain strik-
ingly stageworthy, Ch
shingura is one of the few plays now and again to
receive such productions. For many years, the Kokuritsu Gekij (National
Theatre), opened in 1966, made a practice of reviving plays in full-length
versions, but midori is now more usual at this important venue.
Ch
shingura, which will figure importantly in these pages, is Japan’s
classic revenge drama. Written in 1748, it is based on an actual 1703 ven-
detta carried out by the forty-seven loyal retainers of Lord Asano Takumi
no Kami Naganori, called Lord Enya Hangan in the play. The story had been
dramatized several times before 1748 and, even after the classic 1748 ver-
sion, continued to appear in new tellings. No other famous Japanese event
has been filmed, televised, and staged in so many ways. For readers un-
familiar with the 1748 masterpiece, a very brief synopsis follows; however,
because of feudal era censorship regarding the use of Tokugawa era samurai
names on stage, the characters’ names were altered (some, however, rec-
ognizably close to their originals) and events were pushed back to the
middle ages. In Ch
shingura, the sensitive young daimyo, Enya Hangan,
driven to an act of violence by the wicked Lord K no Moronao—who is
4 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945

upset because Hangan’s wife, Kaoyo, spurned his lecherous advances—

is forced to commit ritual suicide. Under the leadership of steward boshi
Yuranosuke (based on the real ishi Kuranosuke), Hangan’s forty-seven
loyal retainers pretend to have abandoned any thoughts of revenge, al-
though they plot their vendetta in secret. One of these men, the hand-
some young Kanpei, considers himself responsible for Hangan’s tragedy,
because Kanpei was dallying with his girlfriend, Okaru, when he should
have been at his lord’s side. Later, following various complications, includ-
ing Kanpei’s accidental killing of the evil young samurai Sadakur, Kanpei,
thinking he has slain his father-in-law, commits suicide at his rural cottage.
However, he manages to redeem himself in the eyes of the other retainers,
who also require a financial contribution toward the vendetta, and is
allowed to be a posthumous member of their group. To raise the needed
money, Okaru, now Kanpei’s wife, is sold into prostitution in Kyoto’s Gion
section, and she, too, comes to play a crucial role in the revenge plans. Ulti-
mately, on a snowy night in the twelfth lunar month, the vendetta is suc-
cessfully accomplished.
Destiny seems to have played a part in Bowers seeing Ch
shingura as
his first kabuki play, with Uzaemon as both Hangan and Kanpei. Some be-
lieve that these roles were Uzaemon’s masterpieces, those that would have
left the strongest impression of any in his repertory.
Within the Kabuki-za building, which Bowers had mistaken for a
temple, the drama unfolding before his eyes seized him with its gorgeous
beauty. “I was startled,” he said. “It was really out of this world. I didn’t
understand a thing but I knew in a minute that this was great theatre. And
then I fell in love with Japan.” He added, “In the course of following the
path of music from childhood on, I was able to understand art. The minute
I saw kabuki, I realized beyond a doubt that it was wonderful.”
Mesmerized, Bowers canceled his ticket on the boat preparing to leave
from Kobe. He decided to stay in Tokyo.

h,H
The first thing Bowers did was to find lodgings in Tokyo. With the help of
The Japanese Language and Culture School (Nichigo Bunka Gakk), run
by an English missionary church and located in Shiba Park, Minato ward,
near Zj Temple, Bowers found a six-mat room at a cheap, nearby lodging
house (gesshuku), close to Onarimon. He paid ten yen a month for the room,
plus breakfast and dinner.
Bowers also found part-time work. He taught at the Inoye [sic] School
of English Language, located near what is now the Takarazuka Gekij in
 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945 5

Tokyo’s Y
raku-ch section, close to the Ginza.2 He also taught English part-
time at Hsei University.
Bowers went to kabuki constantly. His regular theatregoing companion
was Hasegawa Tadashi, who was majoring in piano at the Tokyo School of
Music (now Tky Geijutsu Daigaku [Tokyo Art University]) and studying
English under Bowers at the Inoye School. He was seventeen, six years
younger than Bowers, and is probably the only person still living who
knew Bowers in Japan at the time.
Bowers’s and Hasegawa’s theatregoing was frequently via the makumi
(seeing an act) system.
Tokyo’s Kabuki-za is the only theatre with the makumi system. What
this means is that if a program consists of four parts, you would normally
pay to see all of them, which, in today’s terms, could cost as much as
140,000 yen (roughly $140 at 1999 rates) or more for an orchestra seat.
The second balcony would cost somewhat less but would still be fairly
expensive (42,000 yen in mid-2000). Seeing just one part according to the
makumi system would cost from 800 to 1,000 yen. To reach the seats in
this “paradise” located at the highest portion at the rear of the second bal-
cony, a theatregoer would have to trudge breathlessly to the top floor up a
steep staircase located separately from the grand entrance used by regular
theatregoers and take whatever seat could be found. There would be many
connoisseurs here, and they would often shout out the actors’ yag (literally,
“shop names,” but intended as a kind of nickname), such as Harimaya or
Kraiya, in their distinctive and perfectly timed way, thus eliciting kabuki’s
true flavor.
Hasegawa declared, “We did it many times. Perhaps five times a
month would be makumi, three times would be for the full show. He
would go with me, ask me questions, but I wasn’t knowledgeable about
kabuki. I’d often take my mother along.”
Hasegawa’s mother had studied giday
chanting since she was young,
and she also could play the shamisen, so she was a kabuki connoisseur.3
After she had gone to the play with Bowers, Hasegawa’s mother would
frequently grumble, “I like going with Bowers, but I can’t watch the
play at all.” This is because he would continually bombard her with ques-
tions such as, “What’d the actor just say?” or “What’s the meaning of that
pose?”
Bowers’s frequent visits to kabuki gradually made him a connoisseur,
or ts
as the Japanese say. Hasegawa stated, “Bowers knew who was whose
son, from what family someone had been adopted and where he had
gone, everything there was to know. He knew the contents of the plays in
6 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945

far greater detail than I did. I just had to teach him a few words he didn’t
understand.”

h,H
The year in which Bowers first visited Japan, 1940, preceded the Pacific
War. This was when, with slogans like “Greater East Asia New Order” and
“One Hundred Million, One Heart,” Japan charged onto a “mine-strewn
road.”
Despite a policy of nonexpansion in its war with China, which dated
to the Manchuria Incident of 1931, a military conflict that erupted at China’s
Marco Polo Bridge in July 1937 led the Japanese government to extend
the war throughout China. This became an endless quagmire. The United
States, opposed to Japan’s policy of continental advance, enacted economic
sanctions against Japan in July 1939 and announced abrogation of its
treaty of commerce and navigation (to begin in January 1940). Meanwhile,
Nazi Germany invaded Poland in September 1939, and England and France
declared war on Germany. World War II began. The German onslaught
was overwhelming and, within a mere ten months, by June 1940, they had
occupied Paris. Soon after, France surrendered.
In Japan, the Admiral Yonai Mitsumasa cabinet was formed in Jan-
uary 1940. It adopted a policy of cooperative diplomacy with England and
the United States and of nonintervention in the European war. At this
juncture, however, Japan’s naval officials, impressed by Germany’s vic-
tories, demanded cooperation with Germany in advocating a southern ad-
vance, since the Malay Peninsula, Indochina, and the East Indies were the
colonies of England, France, and the Netherlands, respectively. Under pres-
sure, the Yonai cabinet fell in July 1940, a half-year after it was formed.
Two months later, in September 1940, came the occupation of
northern Indochina and the signing of the Tripartite Pact between Japan,
Germany, and Italy. In October, the Imperial Rule Assistance Association
(Taisei Yokusan Kai) was created, and a tide of militarism washed over the
nation.4
Hasegawa recalled, “It was a time when even the backs of match-
boxes said, ‘Watch out for spies.’ ” So foreigners in Japan, especially Euro-
peans and Americans, rapidly came under suspicion.
One snowy day in February 1941, Hasegawa left a certain coffee
shop, where he often met with Bowers, and headed alone to the Shin-
bashi national railway station. A few moments later, he was detained by
the secret police, who put him through a severe interrogation at the Atago
police station. They asked, “What do you have to do with Bowers?” “What
kind of information does he want?” “What information have you leaked
 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945 7

to him?” No matter how often Hasegawa explained that he had no such

relationship with Bowers, they refused to listen:

They said I had an American acquaintance, so I was suspected of being

a spy. The detectives had bamboo swords that they thrust like bayonets,
saying I had to know something, and gradually threatening me.
This went on for a week. They didn’t strike me, but I was scared
stiff. I was detained in a cell and questioned every day. I was given
only a single blanket and I shivered in the freezing cold. It was like
being in a pigsty. I had one aluminum bowl and could eat only left-
overs and two pieces of takuan [pickled radish]. It stank and, at first, I
couldn’t eat.

Hasegawa’s mother, worried about her missing son, called Bowers at

his lodgings. Bowers was shocked. He later claimed that the secret police
did not know anything about him and, even if they had, it would have
proved that he was not a spy but simply a young man with a profound
interest in kabuki and Japan.
After a week of detention and questioning, Hasegawa was released.
He explains why:

I shared my cell with a sneak thief. He was a young man, but I asked
him when he got out to get in touch with my family. I gave him my
family’s phone number in Shinbashi. . . . This guy faithfully called my
house and my mother came flying down to the station.

Hasegawa’s mother, an official of the Greater Japan Women’s Defense

Association (Dainihon Kokub Fujin Kai), quickly cleared her son of any
suspicion. Bowers, learning that the missing Hasegawa was being held at
the Atago station, headed there to ask for his friend’s release and to clear
his own name. He recounts: “I was questioned in an upstairs room. The
military police treated me as if I were a fool, asking me, could I read these
characters? I remember the characters well.”
The investigating detectives wrote the word hentai (pervert) on a piece
of paper and gave it to Bowers. In their eyes, which saw a spy in every
strange, detestable American, this word was the greatest insult they could
inflict on one.
At the time, household commodities were becoming increasingly
scarce. Posters claiming that “Luxury is the Enemy” flooded the cities.
Things were getting extremely inconvenient. “Even restaurants had limits.
One bottle of beer, two flasks of sake,” Bowers recalled. “Cigarettes were
8 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945

rationed so that when you went to the tobacco store, once a week, on
Monday, there was a line.”
Bowers’s presence was causing his friends problems, and he was feel-
ing increasingly isolated. “It was impossible to stay in Japan any longer.
Pearl Harbor came soon afterwards.”
In March 1941, after a yearlong stay in Japan, he resumed his trip to
Southeast Asia. He had cultivated a fundamental knowledge of Japanese
during this first sojourn. His formal study had been at The Japanese Lan-
guage and Culture School. He said that he progressed rapidly because there
were then so few foreigners around that he had many opportunities for
speaking the language. But he was convinced that his greatest progress
came because of his visits to kabuki: “I learned Japanese in the theatre. It
was more from going to the theatre every day than from living in Japan. I
went to my beloved kabuki over and over. Doing this every night, every
night, the words just seeped into my body naturally. I saw all the plays. It
was kabuki that made the greatest impression on me.”

h,H
Bowers left Japan and passed through Surabaya on the island of Java on
his way to the capital city of Batavia, the present Jakarta, which was still
under Dutch control. The nation that became Indonesia on August 17, 1945,
two days after the war ended, was then called either the Netherlands East
Indies or the Dutch East Indies. A year later, the Japanese invaded and
established a military government that ruled for three and a half years.
Bowers had to evade danger in Surabaya because his ability at Japa-
nese aroused Dutch suspicions; they were amazed that he had picked up
the language so quickly, while Dutch soldiers allegedly could not get be-
yond the basics after three years of training. Bowers’s ex-wife, the Indian
writer Santha Rama Rau, who met Bowers in Japan in 1947, was deeply
impressed by his linguistic ability. She wrote in East of Home: “It takes him
about three months to speak a language, six to speak it well, and a year to
read and write.”5 Bowers was fluent in Japanese, Chinese, Russian, French,
Spanish, and Malay.
The flames of war were lapping at a trembling world in 1941; it was
not a time when an American youth could go off at will to study music in
a foreign land. Bowers abandoned his studies in September 1941 and re-
turned to America after being away for a year and a half. Just two weeks
later, he was drafted and dispatched to an artillery unit.

h,H
At the time, American soldiers or officers who could speak Japanese were
in enormous demand, but it took the U.S. Army some time to realize that
 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945 9

Bowers’s knowledge of languages had been duly noted in his records.

When his Japanese ability was discovered, he was immediately sent to
take an examination where, after answering a single question in the lan-
guage, the exam was waived and he was enrolled at once in the army’s
newly established language school at the Presidio in San Francisco. “I sud-
denly became a valuable property,” he said in a 1960 oral history inter-
view he did for Columbia University.6 Here, for over half a year, he
practiced conversation, while also polishing his reading and writing skills.
Bowers reminisced about these days: “In prewar America, the army
and navy took completely different approaches to linguists. The army used
Nisei (second-generation Japanese). The more racist navy took top stu-
dents from Harvard, Yale, Columbia, the other Ivy League schools, et cetera,
and taught them Japanese at the University of Colorado in Boulder. After
a year of intensive study, they emerged as ensigns, safe from the army
draft.”
Donald Keene, the noted Japanese literature specialist, has written of
his own language training during the war. After graduating from Columbia
University, he entered the Navy Japanese Language School at the Univer-
sity of California, Berkeley, in January 1942, where he was one of thirty
students. His classes took up four hours a day, with two hours for reading
and explanation and an hour each for conversation and dictation. This con-
tinued for six days a week over ten months (later, eighteen months), with
a weekly test on Saturdays, so Keene had no opportunity to think of any-
thing but Japanese.7
Tsukahira Toshio, who taught at the Presidio, remained Bowers’s friend
for life. Tsukahira was born in Los Angeles in 1915 and raised there. He
told me, “The Presidio Japanese language school was created just before
Pearl Harbor, in November 1941. In January 1942, I was hired as a teacher.
There were twenty or thirty students and, at first, four teachers, who quickly
rose to eight.”
In May 1942, the Presidio school was moved to Camp Savage, in
Minnesota, near Minneapolis, an area thought to be congenial to an on-
slaught of Japanese-looking Americans, where there would be no racial
reprisals for Pearl Harbor. The number of students swelled to several hun-
dred. When the school was in San Francisco, Americans of non-Japanese
ancestry who knew Japanese were exceedingly rare. All the others who
did were Nisei.
Keene recalls that he had no time at language school for anything
but Japanese. According to Tsukahira, the language training at the Presidio
was equally tough: “Every day after dinner, there were two hours of re-
quired study. Even after lights out, students would turn on the lights in
the bathroom and study there. It was really a daily soaking in Japanese,
10 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945

from morning to night.” Naturally, the school taught conversation, read-

ing, and writing, but it also taught Japanese history, writers like Akuta-
gawa Ry
nosuke, as well as technical terms for the Japanese military
system and Japanese weapons. Bowers said, “Even if Japanese military
documents were captured, not knowing the specialized military termi-
nology would have made them useless. If you didn’t know Japanese psy-
chology, you couldn’t interrogate prisoners.” Japanese soldiers were taught
that it was shameful to be taken prisoner. American students at the Japa-
nese language school became familiar with how to deal with such soldiers.
Bowers declared, “We learned not only the printed and semicursive styles
of writing but the cursive (ssh). That’s because we had to read captured
documents, you see.”

h,H
At the Presidio and Camp Savage, Bowers gained a substantial education
as he moved from conversation, reading, and writing to the Japanese army’s
organizational structure, specializing in military terms and the psychology
of the Japanese fighting man. When he completed his studies, at the top of
his class, his superior, the company commander Colonel Kai Rasmussen,
impressed by his linguistic skills, made entreaties on his behalf to army
circles in Washington. As a result, Bowers, who had been drafted as a
private, was promoted to second lieutenant. Other non-Nisei who knew
Japanese, such as the sons of missionaries to Japan, were automatically
commissioned as ensigns or second lieutenants, purely on the basis of their
language ability. But Bowers, because he was a private when he joined the
Presidio, was unable to receive a similar promotion without Rasmussen’s
special intercession. Bowers believed that his case not only set a precedent
but enabled the more linguistically capable Nisei to be commissioned in
the U.S. Army. Had it not been for Bowers’s commission, he was sure, the
Nisei, because of racist attitudes, would have remained privates, or at best,
corporals, throughout the war.
In 1943, the twenty-five-year-old Bowers, who had requested duty in
India, was transferred instead to Brisbane, where Australia’s Allied Trans-
lator and Interpreter Service (ATIS) was located. He never even saw Gen.
Douglas MacArthur, leader of the Allied forces in the South Pacific, at Bris-
bane. Yet, as a commissioned officer doing translation work for the Allies,
beginning at Brisbane’s Supreme Command headquarters and ending in
Manila, Bowers walked in MacArthur’s shadow.
Bowers, newly promoted to captain, was sent from headquarters in
Brisbane to the front line in Wau, New Guinea. Bowers’s main work on
behalf of the Allied forces in New Guinea was to interrogate Japanese
 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945 11

prisoners of war and to translate captured documents. He undertook many

interrogations. “Over and over. A lot. It was awful. The Japanese army had
no food. All they knew about the jungle was what leaves were edible and
which were not. They were all emaciated; it was terrible.”
Bowers remembered, “At the beginning of 1943, I translated a Japa-
nese army document obtained at Wau that explained what foods could be
eaten to survive. It told you what kinds of grasses could be eaten if boiled,
what fruits grew wild, and had things like recipes for cooking wild
animals. We knew from reading this that Tokyo was no longer able to send
supplies to their men at the front.”
Bowers emphasized what he believes was the greatest mistake made
by the Japanese during the war: “They were convinced that foreigners
could never understand the Japanese language.” “With the help of docu-
ments, the American army knew everything about Japan’s army and inten-
tions. The size of their forces, their locations, when reinforcements would
arrive, where their arms were stored—everything.”
Bowers admitted, though, to making at least one major mistransla-
tion. At the time of the Japanese withdrawal from Rabaul, Bowers’s trans-
lations were given to new officers in Brisbane as models to follow. How-
ever, a newly arrived American ensign brought to Bowers’s attention a war
order he, Bowers, had mistranslated. Bowers’s original version had said,
“So many ships with so many men will arrive at Rabaul on such and such
a date.” He should have translated it to read, “So many ships with so many
men will leave Rabaul on such and such a date.” Because he had said that
so many Japanese would be arriving, the air force sent hundreds of planes
to bomb Rabaul on the given date. The Japanese already had left the area,
so this was a huge, wasteful expenditure in which a vacated place was
bombed.
Throughout the war, Bowers said he remained in love with Japan.
He stated, with a dash of irony, “I fought the war pro-Japanese, and was
twice decorated for my services—a Bronze Star and Oak Leaf Cluster.” He
had no patience for discrimination. Australian troops, who despised the
“Japs,” were stationed at Wau in 1944. Numerous leaflets were sent to
him for distribution at the front. On one was written: “Remember, you are
not fighting men, you are fighting yellow-bellied beasts.”
Bowers refused to scatter these leaflets and sent them back to head-
quarters. When asked why, he answered, “This leaflet cannot be distributed,
because they are fighting human beings, they are not fighting animals.”
Bowers’s advice was taken and such leaflets ceased.
Bowers also took part in the death of Admiral Yamamoto Isoroku, the
naval genius who planned the attack on Pearl Harbor. “The Japanese army
12 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945

had fled and left behind their code book. We understood it all. We knew
when and where Admiral Yamamoto would be flying, so we were able to
shoot him down.” Yamamoto’s death moved both Bowers and MacArthur
because they were aware of his innate pacifism. Although it backfired, he
had called for an early cease-fire in the war. According to Bowers, “The
plan behind the destruction of the American Pacific fleet in Hawaii was to
render America incapable of fighting and quickly bring about a peace settle-
ment to Japan’s advantage.”
Bowers’s rank rose year by year. When he left New Guinea he was a
major.
“When the general, who had promised ‘I shall return,’ went to Manila,
so did I. I was there for three months.” At the war’s end, Col. Sidney Mashbir
in Manila gave Bowers the plum assignment of being the interpreter for
the advance party and one of the first “enemy” soldiers to reach Japan. This
was a momentous assignment:

I was chosen to be the interpreter. . . . And we were told very dramati-

cally that if anything happened to us, then the war would resume.
And we were quite thrilled, because we would be the first soldiers,
. . . the first American soldiers to land on conquered Japanese soil, and
our job was to get things going, to see that the place was disarmed, to
see that the country was ready to receive MacArthur and the Occupa-
tion, en masse.8

h,H
On August 28, 1945, two days in advance of the arrival of Supreme Com-
mander for the Allied Powers (SCAP) Gen. Douglas MacArthur, an ad-
vance party of Americans landed at Atsugi Airfield and took the first step
in establishing the occupation of Japan, which would mark the first time
in the nation’s two-millennia history that a foreign nation had achieved
military dominance over it. It was two weeks after Emperor Hirohito’s im-
perial rescript of August 15, which had put a stop to the Pacific War, with
Japan accepting the Potsdam Declaration and surrendering. Three years
and eight months had passed since the war began. The advance party—
146 men under the command of Col. Charles Tench—had arrived early in
order to prepare for MacArthur’s arrival two days later.
Early in the morning of August 28, Tench’s troops flew from Okinawa
in forty-six planes, the first one arriving at Atsugi thirty-two minutes early,
at 8:28 A.M. A warmth enveloped the Kant plain, and the sun was shining
brightly. Mt. Fuji was nakedly brown and snowless. As they flew in, they
could see countless airplanes on the field, their engines having been re-
 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945 13

moved by arrangement with the American forces, and the muzzles of all
antiaircraft artillery pointing downward. A strong south wind, coming in
the wake of a typhoon, was blowing. Ordinarily, planes should land against
the wind, but Tench’s pilot was nervous. He missed his first approach and,
after switching directions, used a tailwind to land on the central runway
from the south. The following planes entered in the same direction and all
came to a stop at the northern end, almost overrunning the runway.
Tench and Bowers disembarked—becoming the first victorious foreign
soldiers ever to set foot in Japan, although it is not clear who preceded
whom—only to be greeted by a nervous band of Japanese who had been
waiting at the opposite end of the field to receive the conquering army.
Bowers remembered in his 1960 interview that Lt. Gen. Arisue Seiz, head
of the welcoming party, came “running with all his ADCs [aides-de-camp]
across the airport with his sword clanking . . . and was much flustered and
much upset.”9 Lt. Gen. Arisue, head of the Second Division of Imperial
Headquarters, was also the government-appointed chairman of Atsugi Air-
field. A noticeably nervous Col. Tench got out of the car that had driven
him and Bowers across the airfield to the canopy. He wore a peaked cap
and battle fatigues and had a rifle suspended from his shoulder. At Tench’s
left was the interpreter, twenty-eight-year-old Maj. Faubion Bowers. Arisue
saluted Tench. Tench saluted back. Arisue asked, “Are you in charge?”
Tench responded, “Col. Charles Tench, American army.”
One of the first things Bowers did after reaching the canopy was to
explain, with some embarrassment, why the Americans had landed as they
did. The Japanese marveled that the Americans had won the war after all
if they could make such tactical errors.
On August 29, every newspaper reported on the arrival at Atsugi.
The Asahi Shinbun ran a photo showing Bowers, with his Ronald Colman
mustache, standing at attention next to Tench. The caption read, “Col. Tench
of the Air Transport Division (center), meeting with Chairman Arisue (left),
with Maj. Bower [sic] (interpreter) at the right, at Atsugi Airfield.”
Inside the tent, juice, beer, and snacks had been prepared to welcome
the advance party. Arisue poured some juice into glasses and offered a glass
to Tench, the commanding officer. In the strained and stifling atmosphere,
as enemy and victor sounded each other out, Tench sniffed his glass, then
turned to ask Bowers, “Is it all right to drink this?” Bowers answered, “Yes,
of course.” Arisue, realizing that Tench suspected poison, poured some
of the same juice into a separate glass and drained it in one gulp. Then
Bowers drank and, finally, Tench brought the glass to his lips.
During the war, Atsugi Airfield was a navy base. There was a fear
that those young troops that had not gracefully accepted surrender would
14 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945

attack their former enemy. Further, the air was also filled with unrest
among the air force troops who were in collusion with them at various
other bases in the Kant plain, such as Saitama Prefecture’s Kumagai base.
Prince Higashikuni, the prime minister, had assigned Arisue the task
of welcoming the Americans and told him that if anything went wrong he
was to make amends by committing suicide. Arisue had every intention of
following this order. Arisue and the Atsugi Airfield committee drove by car
from Ichigaya in Tokyo to the airfield on the evening of August 24. When
they approached the Atsugi Highway from the Ksh
Highway a huge
number of leaflets dropped out of the sky: “Resist with tooth and nail!”
“Destroy MacArthur’s plane!” “The American army devils are coming! Send
the women and children to the mountains!” Arisue’s principal responsibility
being to prevent any lawless resistance to the occupying troops, he and his
men threw themselves into making the airfield area secure for the recep-
tion of the victors.
Still, the atmosphere surrounding Tench and Arisue was thick with
bloodlust, and there was no sign of it abating. A group of Japanese news-
paper reporters and cameramen were present outside the canopy. Everyone
tensely held his breath. During these uncomfortable moments, which
Bowers likened to a party that was not going well, he found himself the
focus of the reporters’ attention, probably because of his Japanese-language
ability. Noticing this, he turned to them casually and asked, “Is Uzaemon
still alive?”
Stunned for a moment, the reporters looked at each other in deathly
silence. A few seconds later, though, they relaxed. The ice had been broken.
Three months before, on May 6, Ichimura Uzaemon XV (1874–1945), the
leading kabuki actor of his generation, had died of a sudden heart attack,
aged seventy-one, at the Yudanaka hot springs in Nagano Prefecture, where
he had taken refuge from the American air raids.
Bowers’s first encounter with Uzaemon’s acting, in 1940, was not only
his first encounter with kabuki but also his first face-to-face encounter
with Japanese culture. “Is Uzaemon still alive?” A sense of destiny connects
these words of Maj. Faubion Bowers, right after he reached Japan as a part
of the Occupation Army, with his later role regarding the Occupation’s
policy toward kabuki.

h,H
Once his duties with the advance party were concluded, his interpreter’s
abilities were in demand and Bowers became Gen. MacArthur’s aide. He
was attached to MacArthur as his secretary, being always at his beck and
call as a kind of “sidekick.” Theoretically, without Bowers’s permission, no
 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945 15

Figure 3 Naozamurai, with Ichimura Uzaemon XV as

the title character and Kataoka Nizaemon XII as Michi-
tose. (Photograph courtesy of Faubion Bowers.)

one could get in to see MacArthur. This background of absolute power

helped him throw all his energy into reviving kabuki, which MacArthur’s
GHQ considered so feudalistic and undemocratic that it had to be forbidden.
When Bowers first encountered kabuki, in 1940, he did not under-
stand it at all, and, in some cases, was not even sure which characters
were men and which were women. Uzaemon became his favorite actor
and he even went to see his performance in Naozamurai—about a hand-
some outlaw and lover of that name—every afternoon twenty-five times
in succession.
16 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945

When Bowers returned to Japan in 1945, he had absolutely no idea

of the connection his experience in seeing Uzaemon would have with the
unusually important role he would play in preserving and reviving a
major facet of Japanese culture. It is hard to resist asking whether his
being unexpectedly thrust onto the stage in a supporting role at the turn-
ing point of a generation was some strange heavenly dispensation or simply
a historical quirk. Bowers, not yet thirty, appeared in the maelstrom of post-
war Japan when kabuki was tottering on the abyss, and before he knew it,
he was being called “the savior of kabuki.”
Wartime Kabuki

“Well, to speak frankly, kabuki is used to being suppressed. I think that the
kabuki world always has to face oppression from above. Therefore, you
know, if we can’t follow the script literally, we just alter the content and
get on with it. That’s how we did it during the war when we were very
strictly regulated.”
Sitting in a second-floor training room at Tokyo’s Kokuritsu Gekij
,
kabuki actor Nakamura Matagor
II (b. 1914), Living National Treasure,
spoke of his wartime hardships. The indefatigable Matagor
was eighty-
four at the time I spoke to him. A few moments earlier he had been pro-
viding instruction to a group of young kabuki actors in this building. Soon
he would be taking the bullet train to Osaka.
“What can I say? It was the war. We had to do things its way. That’s
the way it was. You did what you could. All kabuki actors wanted to do
good theatre, do new stuff. So when limits were imposed, we said, ‘Oh, is
that so?’ No one said, ‘Oh, that’s terrible, isn’t it?’ It was more like, ‘Let’s
do it another way.’ ”
During the war, there was strict control over kabuki’s ideology. Not
only kabuki but also shinpa and all types of commercial theatre were con-
trolled, while shingeki, the modern theatre, which leaned strongly toward
proletarian themes, was suppressed.1 In 1940, when Faubion Bowers first
visited Japan, many theatrical people were arrested. In August 1940, the
Shinky
and Shin Tsukiji troupes were forced to disband, and such leading

17
18 Wartime Kabuki

theatrical artists as director-actor-playwright Senda Koreya were among

the over one hundred theatre people thrown into jail.
On December 6, 1940, the Cabinet Information Board (J
h
kyoku)
was established and restraints were enforced on newspapers, broadcasting,
movies, theatre, and all aspects of cultural and intellectual life. As part of
the national propaganda policy, all cultural institutions were instructed that
it was their role to raise the people’s spirit. In the theatre, kabuki and shinpa
domestic plays (sewamono) and love plays (tsuyamono) were banned outright,
and history plays (jidaimono), war plays, and biographical works were en-
couraged. Kabuki’s domestic plays were based on the daily life of Toku-
gawa (or Edo) period townspeople and were considered “gossip stories.” In
many, townsmen are killed or kill themselves, often committing double
suicide with lovers and prostitutes, as in Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s Sone-
zaki Shinj
or Shinj
Ten no Amijima.
Historical plays are set in periods preceding the Tokugawa. They depict
the world of the samurai and include Sugawara Denju Tenarai Kagami (here-
after Sugawara), Yoshitsune Senbon Zakura (hereafter Senbon Zakura), and
Kanadehon Ch
shingura (hereafter Ch
shingura), a trio of plays from the late
1740s, originally written for the puppet theatre. Known as the “three great
masterpieces,” all were by the same trio of playwrights. Ch
shingura was
inspired by a 1701 event but was placed in the world of a medieval epic,
the Taiheiki,2 and turned into a history play to avoid censorship of its con-
temporaneous references.3
The wartime government encouraged “national drama,” which meant
plays that enhanced morale and strengthened the war effort. In September
1941, the Cabinet Information Board and the fascistic Imperial Rule Assis-
tance Association (Taisei Yoku Sankai) were responsible for the formation
of a Japan Touring Theatre League (Nihon Id
Engeki Renmei). The idea
was to send theatre troupes to every town and hamlet to further official
policy. In addition to such commercial companies as the T
h
Touring
Culture Troupe, the Sh
chiku People’s Touring Troupe, and the Yoshimoto
Touring Theatre Troupe, there were companies headed by and named
for kabuki actors Ichimura Uzaemon XV and Ichikawa Ennosuke II (1886–
1963), the famous shinpa actress Mizutani Yaeko (1890–1975), and other
stars.
The touring companies played in such locations as factories, farming
and fishing villages, mining operations, and military camps. For five years,
until the end of the war, they played to a total of approximately 12 million
spectators.
As mentioned earlier, one of the touring companies was formed by
Ichimura Uzaemon, president of the Greater Japan Actors’ Association (Dai-
 Wartime Kabuki 19

nihon Haiy Ky
kai). He took the company from Okatani in Nagano Pre-
fecture to Maebashi in Gunma Prefecture and Hitachi in Ibaraki Prefec-
ture. Every day, enthusiastic welcomes were given to the great kabuki stars
in towns that wanted to see them but rarely had the chance. The actors
presented Act V, “Yamazaki Kaid
,” and Act VI, “Kanpei Seppuku,” of
Ch
shingura as well as the dance plays Echigo Jishi and Sanbas. One perfor-
mance was on a stage set up in a baseball field overlooking Lake Suwa in
Okatani. Uzaemon XV recalled:

It was fascinating to act our plays while viewing Shiojiri Pass and Lake
Suwa during the day and the city’s distant lights at night. There were
said to be 25,000 male and female workers in the silk factories of Kata-
kura and this was the first time I’d ever played before such huge crowds.
First there was a silent prayer for the Japanese people; then, when
three cheers went up for the emperor, the young women present, who
were in the majority, raised their hands, a beautiful pink sight that I’ll
never forget. It was like the blooming of peach blossoms.4

These touring companies endured many hardships. They borrowed

crude assembly halls or warehouses and had to quickly set up makeshift
stages. Compared with life in the city, it was inconvenient, to say the least.
There were not enough toilets and those they had were latrines shared in
hutlike buildings, so some actresses patiently held it in for nearly two days
in order not to have to set foot in such filthy places.
Nakamura Utaemon VI (b. 1917), the great female-role specialist
(onnagata) and Living National Treasure, talks in his autobiography—co-
authored with Yamakawa Shizuo—about “condolence performances” given
to Kant
area munitions factories and military bases.

When we gave condolence shows we received sweet bean jelly and soap
in return, which we enjoyed more than anything. As I recall, the soap
was Gy
ny
[Milk] brand. Every time I see a commercial for it, I still
think, “Ah, we got Gy
ny
Soap when we gave condolence perfor-
mances for the Army. . . .” There was a shortage of soap, and it was
national policy for people to shave their heads, you know, and to wear
gaiters. It now all seems like a dream.5

Nakamura Matagor
II was also in a touring company. “It was in 1942,

1943, you know. We went everywhere. We went to the countryside, to so-
called military bases and factories, and I even went to South China. I was
there with the present [Nakamura] Kankur
’s [b. 1955] father, the late
[Nakamura] Kanzabur
XVII [1909–1988], and four or five others.6 When
20 Wartime Kabuki

we gave condolence performances, there was food. Rice and other food-
stuffs were plentiful at the bases and military factories. It was terrific after
all the shortages in Tokyo.”
As the war dragged on, the theatre world was constantly admonished
that its mission on the home front was to serve the soldiers who were risk-
ing their lives on the front lines.
A combination of thought control and paper shortages led to the con-
solidation of theatre magazines. This had begun with a 1940 directive
abolishing one theatre magazine, consolidating three others under the
single title, Kokumin Engeki (People’s Theatre), and creating a new one,
Engeki (Theatre). In 1943, six magazines, Engei Gah (Theatre Illustrated),
Th (T
h
Company), Kokumin Engeki, Engeki, Gendai Engeki (Today’s The-
atre), and Takarazuka Kageki (Takarazuka Music Theatre) all went under at
the orders of the Cabinet Information Board. The final issue of Engei Gah
declared, “The war in the Far East has entered a crucial phase and now
that we hear of severe conditions everyday we have to put all our strength
into the war effort. Recently, in accordance with national policy, even
theatre magazines have united.”7
The result was the establishment of the Cabinet Information Board’s
Japanese Theatre Company (Nihon Engeki Sha), which, in November 1943,
inaugurated two new magazines, Nihon Engeki (Japanese Theatre) and
Engekikai (Theatre World), the latter of which still exists and is Japan’s pre-
mier theatre periodical. Although permitted to publish, wartime problems
made it impossible to guarantee regular issues. Engekikai had to suspend
publication from March to August 1943 after its offices were bombed, al-
though its June and July issues came out under the title of its sister period-
ical, Nihon Engeki.
Shortages caused wartime issues to be limited in pages and photo-
graphs. This also affected the provision of theatre programs, which became
progressively thinner until the managements eventually had to do away
with them entirely. Instead, theatres posted cast lists in their lobbies, a pol-
icy that continued for some months in most theatres after the war until
paper was in greater supply.
Engekikai’s first president was the playwright-critic Oka Onitar

(1872–1943). However, on October 29, just before the first issue was pro-
duced, Oka died, so his mantle was passed to novelist-poet Kubota Mantar

(1889–1963). Engekikai’s editor-in-chief was Atsumi Seitar
(1892–1959),
and Nihon Engeki’s was, first, Hata Yoshir
, and then Toita Yasuji, winner
of the distinguished Naoki Prize for literature. All were very important the-
atre writers in the postwar world.
Play censorship grew increasingly stringent. The last issue of Engei
Gah published a report titled “From the Censorship Board,” by the
 Wartime Kabuki 21

Police Department’s Terasawa Takanobu, who was in charge of theatrical

production:

It is essential to determine whether or not a play is really for the

people, whether it reinforces or hinders the war effort, and whether it
exalts or diminishes their spirit. Plays that foster laziness in their audi-
ences, cause them to decrease their fighting resolve, or that lead them
into idleness will be absolutely forbidden.8

He was castigating what were considered lubricious plays that wal-

lowed in romance or depicted the sensuality of the red-light districts, that
stressed the grotesque, or that depicted gangsters as heroes. Even more out
of the question were plays favoring war-weariness or antiwar sentiments.
What was sought was a national consensus designed to intensify the war
spirit of the “Japanese empire’s subjects,” which was needed for the com-
pletion of “the holy war.” This was theatre’s principal mission.
The debut issue of Engekikai carried the following words by 
Takejir
(1877–1969), chairman of the Sh
chiku Theatrical Corporation,
representing the will of Japan’s theatre people:

It is highly appropriate that there be great reliance on controls to guar-

antee that dramatic content recognize the current emergency and that
plays must address the situation from every angle in a suitable manner.
. . . Plays should be eradicated if their content and form not only fail to
foster a warlike spirit and an intensified war effort but also inspire lazi-
ness, spinelessness, and idleness. . . . Today, when 100 million country-
men are engaged in battle and confront the gigantic task of reforming
the world, the reason that kabuki’s classics can be welcomed and ad-
mired is that they possess the powerful and real spirit that is so beauti-
fully linked to our ever victorious people during this great conflict.9

The example chosen by  to represent “the powerful and real

spirit that is so beautifully linked to our ever victorious people during this
great conflict” is the “Terakoya” scene from Sugawara, popular in both
kabuki and the puppet theatre. Later, as detailed in Chapter 4, the postwar
Occupation would make an example of “Terakoya.”
I would like to look briefly at kabuki’s unique value as a classical
drama. Terasawa Takanobu’s previously cited report, “From the Censorship
Board,” included the following remarks:

It is natural for censorship to adhere, respectively, to different standards.

Originally, the greatest appeal of kabuki for spectators was the art of its
actors, the plot being relatively unimportant. Therefore, it is safe to say
22 Wartime Kabuki

that . . . the dispassionate consideration of a particular play reveals it to

have hardly any influence. This idea is inherent in the respect kabuki
has garnered as a classical genre, so it is allowed to perform as much as
it likes.10

Regardless of the fact that kabuki content was, indeed, censored, Tera-
sawa is saying that kabuki’s appeal lies in its actors’ artistry, not in the ideas
of its plays. Thus, kabuki’s ideas really have barely any impact on the way
that people act. For example, in “Terakoya,” Matsu
sacrifices his own son
—who is beheaded—in order to save the son of his lord, yet, as Bowers ob-
served, no one ever went out and killed his child out of loyalty to his
master just because they saw this play. Similarly, Ch
shingura, famed for its
theme of revenge, may be the most popular and beloved of kabuki dramas,
but that does not mean that it drives people to seek vengeance on behalf
of their masters.
After the war, these ideas again became the basis of considerable dis-
cussion when the Occupation authorities stopped kabuki performances al-
together. Ikenami Sh
tar
, in Matagor no Shunj
, wrote: “Kabuki’s tradition
is the art of kabuki’s actors. Kabuki plays are not traditional. The actor’s art
is traditional.”11 But when talking about kabuki, the absence of ideas in the
plays is a double-edged sword.

h,H
During the war, such valiant phrases as the following leaped out of theatre
magazines: “endurance and privation, courage and bravery in which
are rooted the will and confidence for ongoing war victories,”12 or “the
governmental policy of creating edifying propaganda for carrying out the
nation’s vital mission through the medium of wartime entertainment.”13
In 1944, when the war situation worsened, control over the theatre
industry intensified. February saw the promulgation of “Regulations for
the Control of Theatrical Production,” issued by the Ministry of Internal
Affairs and reminiscent of seventeenth-century controls. Every play had to
be submitted for the approval of Internal Affairs.
Play censorship had begun in 1940. Each urban and rural prefecture
had an office responsible for putting it into effect. In Tokyo, for instance,
this job fell to the Metropolitan Police Board. Because of the Internal Affairs
directive, the light of national censorship was added to that of self-censor-
ship, and there was a stricter regulation of content than ever before. Two
concrete examples may be mentioned. In Naozamurai, a kabuki play
forming part of a much longer drama, Kumo ni Mag Ueno no Hatsuhana, the
crimes of the romantic gangster Kataoka Naojir
, better known as Nao-
 Wartime Kabuki 23

zamurai, are exposed and he becomes a fugitive. In the sixth act, set at the
   Hostel in Iriya village, Naozamurai is fleeing from the law
through the snow when he stops to pay a visit to his prostitute girlfriend,
Michitose, who is ill and staying at a retreat, and the lovers enjoy their
final moments together. Naozamurai is then surrounded by the police but
manages to escape. The censorship cracked down and revised the original
script so that he surrendered to the police because it was considered abso-
lutely unacceptable for a fugitive to escape the clutches of the law. There
was no way that the forces of justice could allow a criminal to slip through
their net, and it was essential that wrongdoers face the shame of capture.
The censors also handed down the now-famous order that the dia-
logue in “Terakoya” be changed. In the play, Takebe Genz
has opened a
village school at which he teaches youngsters calligraphy and where he is
hiding Kan Shsai, the young son of his lord, the exiled Sugawara Michi-
zane. But Sugawara’s evil enemy, Lord Shihei, has commanded Genz
to
hand over the head of Kan Shsai. There is no way Genz
can do this. So
Genz
decides to substitute the head of a new student, Kotar
, for that of
his master’s son. This sparks Genz
’s line, “To be in service to a lord is an
unenviable lot” (Semajiki mono wa miyazukae), one of the most famous lines
in kabuki. It points out that a samurai must perform an inhuman act merely
because of loyalty to a master.
The censors changed the line to, “This is what being in service to a
lord means” (Omiyazukae wa koko ja wai na). The meaning was completely
altered to imply that there was nothing like serving one’s lord. The original
cried out against the inhumanity and brutality of the samurai way, but the
revision exalted the samurai way and glorified it. The nation went to such
lengths—even interfering with the lines of classic plays—to oversee every
aspect of Japanese life because it wished to prevent a slackening of the war
effort and to promote loyalty, patriotism, and selflessness even in the face
of death.
Matagor
could not prevent a wry smile from accompanying his
words: “Something like that, you know, when you think about it now, is
so trivial, for a play to have such a fuss made over it. It’s really dumb.” He
lit up one of the cigarettes of which he is so fond, exhaled, and said again
that to kabuki actors, who were used to oppression, such things were
nothing. “But, you know, we didn’t mind. If that’s the way it is and some-
thing is changed, the changed thing just becomes a new method (kata).”
Art grows from suppression, restraint leads to flowering. Kabuki actors are
the ultimate survivors.
In general terms, censorship was divided into concern for “whatever
interferes with public safety” and “whatever interferes with public morality.”
24 Wartime Kabuki

The former included any sacrilege against the imperial household, any-
thing that damaged national prestige, or whatever was harmful to the
public welfare. The latter included obscenity, adultery, lewd sexuality,
cruelty, and the perversion of goodness. In brief, if the authorities decided
they did not like it, they could come up with any reason they wanted to
deny a play permission to be performed. Using these principles, the follow-
ing are some of the kabuki plays that were rejected: Banch Sarayashiki was
disliked because of its nihilism; Shinkei Kasane ga Fuchi had a ghost story
that was challenged by the authorities; and Ejima Ikushima treated rape and
infatuation in a way considered dangerously immoral. To enumerate all
the plays permitted only after a revision of their titles or contents would
take too much space. Naozamurai’s arrest scene and the dialogue revision
in “Terakoya” exemplify the kinds of changes that were made in other plays.
Critic Atsumi Seitar
wrote:

After the outbreak of war in 1941, kabuki became another tool in the
war machine. You could not get permission to produce a play unless it
depicted noble men and virtuous women. Even Sukeroku had to be
labeled as a drama about a filial son’s revenge in order to be licensed.
In the end, despite such labels, plays set in the pleasure quarters were
disallowed. Before permission for Kamiyui Shinza was granted, a speech
had to be added in which Genshichi tells the villain that he should kill
for the sake of society. When “Genyadana” was staged, the play had to
be revised so that an idea of Tazaemon’s led Yosa to have a change of
heart, leave the house, and be arrested by the police.14

The theatre’s hardships apart from the censorship also continued. One
difficulty that people were forced to deal with, uncomfortable as it may
have been, was the poor condition of theatre seats. Due to lack of mainte-
nance, the seating deteriorated so seriously that many seats were unusable.
Because seats were then sold on a first come, first served basis, theatre
crowds would jostle one another roughly when the doors opened in order
to gain one of the few usable seats. Benefit performances for the war effort
often attracted unruly audiences and disturbances were frequent. A slight
amelioration of the seating situation was provided when some theatres
replaced sections of unusable seats with parklike benches, each holding
four or five people.
Far more serious, of course, was the closing of theatres. On February
25, 1944, a mere three weeks after the promulgation of the “Regulations
for the Control of Theatrical Production,” the Cabinet Information Board
published a fifteen-item “General Plan for Emergency War Measures.” Item
Number 7, “The Cessation of First-Class Entertainments,” proved deadly to
 Wartime Kabuki 25

the theatre world. Big theatres, including movie houses, were ordered
closed. In any event, large gatherings of people were impossible because of
air raids.
There were two parts to Item Number 7. One part, called “Emergency
War Measures,” provided for the temporary closure of first-class entertain-
ment districts in large cities. The second part prevented productions from
charging high prices by limiting prices to less than five yen, including tax.
This was an intensification of earlier restrictions on wartime theatre admis-
sion costs and took effect as of March 5, 1944. The concentration of the
entertainment districts of Tokyo and Osaka in relatively confined areas
was desirable neither from the point of view of air raids nor from that of an
administration with a negative cultural bias. To the extent that the leisure
classes were paying high sums to spend large parts of their days in theatres,
there was, under the circumstances, some reason to forbid the use of these
large establishments.
The Tokyo theatres closed by order of the Cabinet Information Board
were the Kabuki-za, the T
ky
Gekij
, the Shinbashi Enbuj
, the Yuraku-za,
the T
ky
Takarazuka Gekij
, the Teikoku Gekij
, the Meiji-za, the Kokusai
Gekij
, and the Nihon Gekij
, nine in all. In Osaka, the theatres closed were
the (Osaka) Kabuki-za, the Naka-za, the Kado-za, the Kitano Gekij
, the
  Gekij
, and the Umeda Eiga Gekij
, a total of six. Kyoto saw the clos-
ing of the Minami-za; Nagoya, the Misono-za; Kobe, the Sh
chiku Gekij

and Takarazuka, the Takarazuka Gekij
. The national total of theatre clos-
ings was nineteen. However, on March 20, there was some relaxation of
this extreme measure, and, on April 1, six theatres—the Shinbashi Enbuj
,
Meiji-za,   Gekij
, Umeda Eiga Gekij
, Minami-za, and Misono-za—
were allowed to reopen, but the other thirteen remained shut. The theatre
world was thus forcibly lumped together and nationally controlled by the
Ministry of Internal Affairs, the Cabinet Information Board, the police, and
other agencies, which were united in their systematic wartime effort.
In March 1944, shortly after the Internal Affairs censor Omuro Nishio
issued his “Regulations for the Control of Theatrical Production,” he pub-
lished an article in Engekikai. As the following quotation reveals, the article
stated the national position in these matters.

What is the ultimate absolutely necessary element that will decide vic-
tory or defeat in this terrible, long, drawn-out war? It is productivity on
the home front. And what absolutely necessary element will bring
about this productivity on the home front? It is the morale and fight-
ing spirit of the people. When one properly recognizes the dire emer-
gency faced by the empire, the path theatre must hereafter take emerges
26 Wartime Kabuki

quite naturally. It must bear the great burden of providing guidance to

the masses, while it is the enormous responsibility of those in charge of
theatrical production to use its power to influence and penetrate so
that the theatre is in no way inferior to the movies in its popular effect.15

Pressured by censorship and theatre closings, wartime kabuki was prac-

tically moribund. To use a cliché, kabuki actors were like fish out of water.

h,H
One after the other, great kabuki actors have appeared to represent their
respective ages. In the Meiji period, it was the trio of Ichikawa Danjr
IX
(1838–1903), Onoe Kikugor
V (1844–1903), and Ichikawa Sadanji I (1842–
1904), popularly dubbed “Dan-Kiku-Sa.” Following the Dan-Kiku-Sa era
came the age of Nakamura Utaemon V (1865–1940), who bridged the years
from Meiji through early Sh
wa (1926–1989). Joining him in stardom dur-
ing these years was Ichimura Uzaemon XV. Then came the Kiku-Kichi era,
named for Onoe Kikugor
VI and Nakamura Kichiemon I, who ruled kabuki
as its unparalleled luminaries from the Taish
period (1912–1926) to the
postwar years. Great stars as they were, however, they were subject to the
same pressures and difficulties during the war as were less famous artists. I
would like to briefly discuss the wartime hardships endured by kabuki’s
actors, when their theatre’s flame was in danger of being extinguished.
Young Japanese actors were as likely as those in any country to serve
their nation in time of war. A small number of Japanese actors, kabuki and
otherwise, perished during the conflict, either while fighting abroad or dur-
ing the air raids inflicted at home. Two kabuki actors died while fighting in
China: Nakamura Shokei, son of Nakamura Jakuemon III, in December
1939, and Onoe Eisabur
VIII, killed in December 1945. The March 10,
1945, bombing of Tokyo killed the onnagata Nakamura Tsurutar
 Onnagata
Nakamura Kaisha lost his life in Osaka in an air raid ten days later. In
Tokyo, the veteran Iwai Kumesabur
died in an air raid on May 20, 1945.
When the fateful bomb exploded, he was holding his grandson in his arms,
trying in vain to protect him. No kabuki actors died in the atomic bombings
of Japan, but nine shingeki actors on tour in Hiroshima at the time did.
Many actors were drafted. Of those belonging to kabuki, the best
known of those who returned unharmed included Onoe Sh
roku II, Naka-
mura Matagor
II, Nakamura Hirotar
(later Nakamura Jakuemon IV),
Kawarasaki Kunitar
V, Onoe Kikuz
VI, and Band
Hikosabur
VII (later
Ichimura Uzaemon XVII). Hirotar
had been posted to Sumatra and his cir-
cumstances remained unknown for some time after the war until he finally
returned in November 1946, over a year after the surrender. Even men
 Wartime Kabuki 27

who had not been drafted had to shave their heads and wear a type of
khaki military uniform, as alluded to earlier by Utaemon VI.
Although no stars met their end due to war-related causes, the hard-
ships they endured were great. One of them, Onoe Kikugor
VI, appeared
three months before the end of the war, in April 1945, at the Shinbashi
Enbuj
in the dramatic “Sushiya” scene from Senbon Zakura and in Bshi-
bari, a comical dance play based on a kygen farce. One day he stood on stage
in costume and addressed the audience: “If an air raid destroys this theatre,
I will have the play go on in the open air. I will die nowhere else but on
stage.”16 The audience showered his words with applause.
At the time, he wrote a deathbed poem suggesting that it did not
matter to him when he died: “Unfinished dances, dancing into the next
world.” And he decided on his own posthumous Buddhist name: “Japan
Academy of Arts member Onoe Kikugor
VI: Buddhist layman” (Geijutsu-
in Rokudaime Onoe Kikugor koji).
Kikugor
nearly died onstage. On the evening of May 25, 1945, Tokyo
was severely bombed and the Kabuki-za, Shinbashi Enbuj
, Asakusa Sh

chiku-za, and other theatres were destroyed. Nearly all were the property
of the Sh
chiku Theatrical Corporation. Oddly, the Teikoku Gekij
, the
Tokyo Takarazuka Gekij
, the Yuraku-za, and other theatres owned by the
rival T
h
company escaped unscathed. On the evening of the great air
raid of May 25, Kikugor
’s home in Shiba burned down. Kikugor
’s wife,
Yasuko, who was suffering from kidney disease and high blood pressure,
had gone to bed just then, so he put her in a bicycle trailer and fled with
her through the flames to Shiba Park. The couple later took refuge for a
time at a friend’s house in Azabu and then at a traditional inn in T
nozawa,
Hakone. Unfortunately, Yasuko’s health did not improve and she died in
February 1946.
Bowers spoke with veneration of Kikugor
VI. “He was, with the ex-
ception of Band
Tamasabur
V [b. 1950], the most intelligent actor I have
ever known, and that includes Larry Olivier, Jean-Louis Barrault, Patrice
Chéreau, and a host of others. Terajima-san [Kikugor
VI] was a supreme
artist, a master onnagata, and sexually straight as a die. (Unfortunately, he
hated homosexuals and persecuted Utaemon VI.) He was also the all-Japan
champion skeet shooter. People seem to have forgotten that part of his
life.”
Kichiemon I’s home in Wakamiyach
, in Tokyo’s Ushigome district,
was destroyed in the bombing so, for a half-year, from March 1945, he lived
in Nikko, in Toshigi Prefecture, where his family rented a place at J
k

Temple. He would go to services in the temple at five in the morning and
then cultivate the garden with a hoe. Sharing these days in Nikko with
28 Wartime Kabuki

Kichiemon was his much younger brother, Nakamura Moshio IV, soon to
be famous as Kanzabur
XVII.
On April 15, 1945, Nakamura Utaemon VI vacated his home in Tsu-
kiji and moved to Atsugi in Kanagawa Prefecture. With six carloads of
household belongings, he stopped for a night at his wife Tsuruko’s family
home in Kawazaki. That night, Kawazaki was bombed. Here are Utaemon’s
own words:

Well, I thought, you’re certainly going to die. The neighborhood was a

sea of flames. The fire burning on the other side of the national high-
way was racing toward me, really coming fast, and we were going to
be completely consumed by it! You can’t imagine how scary it was.
. . . And the six carloads of belongings I went out of my way to lug
from Tsukiji were totally reduced to ashes, but, at that moment, I
didn’t regret it. I was so glad just to be alive.17

Other leading actors who evacuated Tokyo as the war situation

worsened included Band
Mitsugor
VII (1882–1961), who moved to
Gunma Prefecture; Ichikawa Ebiz
IX (1909–1965, the future Danjr
XI),
who took refuge in Hachi
ji; and Onoe Kikunosuke III (1915–1995, later
Onoe Baik
VII), who fled to Hakone.
On March 5, 1945, at about the same time that Kichiemon vacated to
Nikko, Uzaemon XV fled to the spas at Yuda in Nagano Prefecture. The
place he had chosen for a long stay was an inn called the Yorozuya. On the
afternoon of May 6, 1945, after a two-month stay, Uzaemon suddenly
passed away from a heart attack. He was seventy-one. His room at the inn
is preserved just as it was when he stayed there.
As noted in Chapter 1, Faubion Bowers came to Japan in March
1940, and the play he caught by chance at the Kabuki-za was Ch
shingura,
starring Uzaemon as both Kanpei and Hangan, which some claim to have
been his greatest roles. One wonders what might have happened if Bowers
had not happened to see Ch
shingura at this time, or if he had seen this
play without Uzaemon. Would he have become so attached to kabuki?
And what would have been kabuki’s postwar fate? The odd impact of our
chance encounters and the workings of fate certainly must give us pause.
There is some interesting controversy surrounding Uzaemon XV’s
birth. One theory, urged by writer Satomi Ton, holds that his father was a
Frenchman who became a naturalized American citizen and came to Japan
in 1872 as a diplomatic advisor, lived in Tokyo for seventeen years, and mar-
ried Ikeda Ito, the daughter of a lady-in-waiting to the Echizen clan feudal
lord. Their first child was Uzaemon, insists Satomi, but circumstances forced
 Wartime Kabuki 29

Figure 4 Ichimura Uzaemon XV, toward the end of his

life. (Photograph courtesy of Faubion Bowers.)

them to give him up for adoption. However, Uzaemon XVII (b. 1916), inher-
itor of the family headship but not a blood relation of Uzaemon XV’s, dis-
misses the notion and says, “There’s a photo of Uzaemon XV’s father in his
family altar. His name was Harada. His mother was a Yanagibashi geisha.”
Satomi, though, says these people were Uzaemon’s adoptive parents. To the
day he died, Uzaemon himself never said a word about his background.
Regardless of which explanation is true, Uzaemon XV was the kind
of star who could stir people up about anything. He was a legendary kabuki
actor. Kikugor
VI called him “a 150-watt light bulb.” He told Bowers,
“He’d simply come on stage and the whole theatre would light up.” It is
ironic that the man who inspired Bowers’s love of kabuki was himself pos-
sibly born of a union between East and West.
The Occupation Commences
and the Actors Return
At 2:05 P.M., on August 30, 1945, Supreme Commander of the Allied Powers
(SCAP) Douglas MacArthur landed at Atsugi Airfield in the C-54 Bataan.
He had been named SCAP by President Harry S Truman on August 14,
1945, a day before the end of the war. He appeared on the ramp with a
corncob pipe clutched between his teeth and dark green aviator glasses. So
dramatic did he seem that some compared his posturing to that of a kabuki
actor.
When MacArthur assumed his duties as SCAP, many in the advance
party returned to the United States. Bowers, however, remained, although
it was not immediately clear what his duties might be. His senior officer,
Col. Sidney Mashbir, soon gave him the important assignment of setting up,
as quickly as possible, the MacArthur family residence at the American em-
bassy in Tokyo’s Akasaka section. His title was to be assistant military sec-
retary to MacArthur.
Both the Imperial Palace and the American embassy had been exempt
from the merciless bombing visited upon Tokyo by the United States. The
place was therefore intact, except for the chancery, where a stray bomb
had fallen. The embassy had remained empty, save for a handful of Swiss
emissaries, since the departure of the last ambassador, Joseph Grew, after
hostilities erupted between the United States and Japan and diplomatic
relations were severed. Ambassador Grew had lived here from June 1932
until August 1942.

30
 The Occupation Commences and Actors Return 31

Bowers, seeing Tokyo again right after the devastation of the war,
could not believe his eyes. It was a decimated plain, one noted building after
another being utterly destroyed. Those that remained were but the skeletal
frameworks of ferroconcrete storehouses. Swarms of red dragonflies flitted
about in the rubble.
On September 8, 1945, MacArthur came to the embassy to raise the
American flag over a defeated Japan.

h,H
On September 2, 1945, Japan turned its swords into plowshares. It was the
day on which the shame of defeat was transformed into relief at the resto-
ration of peace. The signing ceremony of the Japanese surrender was held
aboard the USS Missouri in Tokyo Bay. Japan’s top brass were represented
by Foreign Minister Shigemitsu Mamoru, who had lost a leg in a 1932 ex-
plosion, and Army Chief of General Staff Umezu Yoshijir
. Nine other Japa-
nese officials were present.
On this day, Faubion Bowers was at the Akasaka embassy and did not
witness the Missouri signing. The Missouri’s deck, where the ceremony was
to take place, was packed to the gills with sailors, soldiers, generals, admirals,
and journalists and cameramen from every nation.
At 9 A.M. MacArthur, wearing a simple summer uniform, appeared and
spoke:

We are gathered here, representatives of the major warring powers, to

conclude a solemn agreement whereby peace may be restored. The
issues, involving divergent ideas and ideologies, have been determined
on the battlefields of the world and hence are not for our discussion
or our debate. Nor is it for us here to meet, representing as we do a
majority of the peoples of the earth, in a spirit of distrust, malice or
hatred. . . . It is my earnest hope—indeed, the hope of all mankind—
that from this solemn occasion a better world shall emerge out of the
blood and carnage of the past, a world founded upon faith and under-
standing, a world dedicated to the dignity of man and the fulfillment
of his most cherished wish for freedom, tolerance, and justice. . . . As
Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers, I announce it my firm
purpose, in the tradition of the countries I represent, to proceed in the
discharge of my responsibilities . . . while taking all necessary dispositions
to insure that the terms of surrender are fully, promptly, and faithfully
complied with.1

Although the occupation of Japan was nominally under the aegis of

the United States, China, Australia (representing Great Britain), and the
32 The Occupation Commences and Actors Return

USSR, it was essentially an American-run operation. SCAP—which also

referred to the American Occupation in general—was given absolute
authority over Japan. There was to be no questioning of MacArthur. No
objection was to be brooked. Herein was established MacArthur’s dictator-
ship in Japan. He was above the law and was called the “Caesar of the
Pacific” and the “Blue-Eyed Tycoon.”
On September 8, 1945, MacArthur set forth from Yokohama to ascend
his throne of command at the American embassy. With the honor guard
standing by, he gave an order to Gen. Robert Eichelberger: “General Eichel-
berger, have our country’s flag unfurled and in Tokyo’s sun let it wave in
its full glory as a symbol of hope for the oppressed and as a harbinger of
victory for the right.”2 The American flag unfurled that day was the one
that had flown in Washington, D.C., on the day that Pearl Harbor was
attacked and on the Missouri at the signing of surrender. What happened at
Pearl Harbor had been carved into the American soul as the nation’s most
unforgivable insult.
The hoisting of the American flag meant more than the simple re-
opening of the American embassy. It meant that, from this day forth, Japa-
nese nationalism would be subordinate to this flag.
Faubion Bowers met MacArthur for the first time on this day. He had
been preparing for MacArthur’s advent in Tokyo and had restored the
embassy to its prewar glamour. MacArthur was delighted with Bowers’s
work. And Bowers became MacArthur’s aide. MacArthur never hired,
never fired anyone. Bowers recalled, “I became his aide naturally. I was
there so he used me. The general never specifically said ‘You’re my aide.’ ”
This reflects a fundamental difference between the way Japanese and
Americans operate.
Bowers was deeply impressed by MacArthur’s good looks, distin-
guished bearing, and beautiful voice, but he also noticed the general’s
vanity regarding his balding pate, mention of which in the press Mac-
Arthur took as a personal attack. Actually, any negative writing about him
infuriated MacArthur, who complained to Bowers: “How can they reprint
such terrible stuff? It’s only [Gen. George S.] Patton and me that they attack
all the time. Why can’t they leave us alone?”3
Bowers responded: “But, Sir, I think what they’re really attacking are
the people that are around you, not you, and perhaps they have a point in
your subordinates.” MacArthur interrupted. “If it’s right at the top, it’s
right at the bottom.”4 In other words, the one at the top is responsible for
those beneath him. Bowers said, “These words are crucial for grasping
MacArthur’s reality.” Bowers also recalled SCAP’s supreme self-confidence,
his lack of interest in things Japanese, his tendency to seclude himself
Figure 5 Gen. Douglas MacArthur, center, with Maj. Faubion Bowers, right, enter-
ing the Dai-Ichi Insurance Building, ca. 1946. (Photograph courtesy of Faubion
Bowers.)
34 The Occupation Commences and Actors Return

from contact with visitors, Japanese or otherwise, and—as someone who

could not stand taking orders—his detestation of anyone with more au-
thority than he, especially Presidents Roosevelt and Truman. Once, when
Bowers asked MacArthur what he thought of Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower,
SCAP replied, “Oh, that man, he’s all right as an aide-memoire, but if you
ever want a scheme out of him, it’s the most scatterbrained, crackpot scheme
you could ever hope for.”5

h,H
Bowers, exceedingly busy with official tasks as MacArthur’s aide, was living
in one of the apartments at the foot of the embassy’s hill. The MacArthurs
occupied the mansion at the top of the hill. SCAP’s office was on the sixth
floor in the Dai-Ichi Insurance Building in the Marunouchi district, directly
opposite the Imperial Palace moat. The office continues to be maintained
as a memorial to MacArthur’s days: part of its space is devoted to documents
and memorabilia related to the history of the Dai-Ichi Insurance Company
and its impressively fortresslike building. Anyone may view these rooms
free of charge. Across from the office is the room in which MacArthur
greeted important visitors. Bowers accompanied MacArthur to and from
the office in the same car and was active with him all day long.

Figure 6 The Dai-Ichi Insurance Building, right, in a recent photograph. To its

immediate left is the Teikoku Gekij
(Imperial Theatre). The Imperial Palace moat
is in the foreground. (Photograph by Samuel L. Leiter.)
 The Occupation Commences and Actors Return 35

“We left the embassy at 9 A.M. Only we two were in the car, in addi-
tion to the driver,” Bowers observed. The driver was not a guard. From a
Japanese perspective, it was quite odd for SCAP to go about without being
surrounded by an escort. But that was MacArthur’s style. Asked whether
he was not aware of the danger, Bowers says: “Not at all. I had a pistol. We
weren’t a bit afraid.” MacArthur was indifferent to danger.
MacArthur, every inch the soldier, despised cowards and weaklings.
He considered it slander to say that he took precautions for his own safety.
Once, when MacArthur and Bowers were in the car together, the general
suddenly spoke to his aide about a Japanese air raid on Manila: “You prob-
ably know about it. The story about the baseless rumors that I endured in
the Philippines? Anyway, the rumors were awful.”
When Bowers asked, “What story?” MacArthur became unusually
talkative. He was getting at his hatred of the nickname “Dugout Doug,”
which had been thought up by soldiers who were hinting at his alleged
proclivity for seeking shelter from danger during air raids. “To counter this
slander,” revealed Bowers, “he said he would deliberately leave the shelter
during air raids and go outside and expose himself to the bombs so that all
the soldiers could see him. ‘I could have been killed,’ the general added for
emphasis.” So MacArthur probably chose to go about without bodyguards
or arms in order to express his hatred of being called “Dugout Doug.”

h,H
The greatest highlight of Bowers’s tenure as MacArthur’s aide was when
the latter first met the emperor. On September 27, 1945, at 9:50 A.M., the
emperor departed from the Imperial Palace. Accompanying him in three
cars were Grand Chamberlain Fujita Hikonori, Imperial Household offi-
cial Ishiwata S
tar
, translator and Imperial Household official Okumura
Katsuz
, and others, seven in all. The emperor’s limousine, adorned with
the imperial chrysanthemum crest, arrived at the embassy entrance at 10:01
A.M. The imperial party was welcomed there by Brig. Gen. Bonner G. Fellers,
who doubled as MacArthur’s military secretary and chief of the Psycho-
logical Warfare Branch, and by Maj. Faubion Bowers.
The emperor shook hands with both men. Bowers led the emperor
into the building, saying, “Your Majesty, your hat . . . ,” at which the em-
peror handed him his tophat. The emperor’s nervousness was revealed in
his trembling hands.
MacArthur greeted the emperor at the entrance to the reception room,
shaking his hand and saying, “You are very, very welcome, sir!” The em-
peror kept bowing lower and lower until MacArthur found himself shak-
ing hands with him over the emperor’s head. Only the emperor, MacArthur,
36 The Occupation Commences and Actors Return

and Okumura, the interpreter, went into the reception room. Then the
door to the reception room was opened and Lt. Gaetano Faillace of the mili-
tary camera corps took a now-famous photograph of the emperor and Mac-
Arthur from outside the room.
The emperor stood there stock still in his morning suit and necktie.
Towering over him, and thereby underlining the emperor’s diminished
status in the new scheme of things, was the tieless MacArthur, collar open,
hands casually placed on his hips. This was a problematic photograph that
created waves both inside and outside of Japan.
During the meeting, Bowers and Fellers were in the adjacent study
chatting with the monarch’s entourage. To break the ice, the nervous group
engaged in a discussion of duck hunting. Ministry official Kakei Motohiko
began to talk with MacArthur’s military secretary, Brig. Gen. Fellers, a
scholarly man with strong prewar connections to Japan. The duck hunting
they talked about was a kind of sport in which the participants attempted
to scoop up in nets some of the thousands of birds—lured there by decoys
—in the imperial gardens. Afterward, the imperial duck hunt became a pop-
ular diversion for GHQ staff members.
When the conversation about duck hunting slackened, Bowers put
in with, “What do you think about kabuki?” at which the faces of the offi-
cials went blank. “None of them had ever seen it. The conversation went
nowhere. I’d blown it,” Bowers remembered with a laugh.
When the meeting was over and the emperor and MacArthur
emerged, they seemed like different people, being much more relaxed
than when they entered the room. MacArthur, appearing quite genial,
was chatting away with the emperor as he accompanied him to the hallway.
Bowers revealed:

Gen. MacArthur was rather taken with the emperor. Before he met
him, he thought the emperor would plead for his life. But the emperor
said, ‘I was opposed to the war. However, others decided to make war
so I was forced to agree. But since the war was waged in my name,
everything is my responsibility. I would like you to release those in
Sugamo Prison who are being held for war crimes and to put me there
instead.’ This caught the general off guard; for a young man of forty-
four to go so far was remarkable.

Bowers says in his oral history interview that MacArthur also commented,
“I was born a liberal, I was brought up in the democratic tradition, but to
see someone who is so high reduced to such a position of humility is very
painful.”6
 The Occupation Commences and Actors Return 37

The question remains whether the emperor actually did use the
opportunity to take responsibility for the war. There are several strongly
conflicting accounts, including the recently published notes of the inter-
preter who was there, but since the topic will lead us far astray, it will not
be discussed here any further.

h,H
Bowers earned approximately $250 a month, plus overseas housing allow-
ance.7 Considering the hardships then being suffered by the average Japa-
nese, this was a very comfortable income. Bowers also had a staff of three,
paid for by the U.S. government at first and later reimbursed—as were
all Occupation expenses—by the Japanese. There was a Japanese chef, a
Western cook, and a Japanese maid.
On September 9, 1945, a day after MacArthur arrived at the American
embassy, an article in the Asahi Shinbun appeared, noting that the dollar
was to be valued at fifteen yen.8
Bowers’s prewar friend, Hasegawa Tadashi, got a job after the war
with the armed forces radio in its technical division. He recalls earning
about $60 a month, or 900 yen when computed at the rate of one dollar to
fifteen yen. Yoneyama Ichio (b. 1903) worked as a GHQ censor under
Bowers. His salary was 1,300 yen a month (about $86), and he told me that
“the average worker in a Japanese business was earning about 500 to 600
yen [$33–$40 a month].” A bank worker’s starting salary in 1945 was 80
yen a month but, because of rampant inflation, rose to 220 by 1947, and
500 by 1948. An elementary school teacher’s starting salary in 1946 was
300 to 500 yen a month. A member of the Diet earned 1,500 yen a month
in 1946, rising to 5,500 yen a year later, an increase of over 350 percent.
The prime minister’s monthly salary was 3,000 yen in 1946, climbing to
25,000 in 1948.9 The one-dollar-to-fifteen-yen rate lasted about a year. On
March 13, 1947, the Asahi Shinbun ran the headline, “Exchange Rate Re-
vised to One Dollar = 50 Yen.”10
The twenty-eight-year-old Bowers took great pride in earning more
than the Japanese prime minister and in being close to SCAP, whose side
he rarely left throughout 1946 and with whom he worked every day. “In
those days I had power. A lot of it. And I used it,” Bowers boasted.
One of the first things for which Bowers used his power was to bring
foodstuffs and other exceedingly hard-to-obtain goods to his Japanese
friends. One of these, ironically, was Lt. Gen. Arisue Seiz
, the officer who
had welcomed the advance party at Atsugi. Food shortages were such that
they actually led to one of the most horrible incidents of the immediate
postwar period. This involved kabuki actor Kataoka Nizaemon XII (1888–
38 The Occupation Commences and Actors Return

Figure 7 Onoe Kikugor
VI. (Photograph courtesy of

Faubion Bowers.)

1946), a leading onnagata. On March 6, 1946, Nizaemon, his wife, and two
other members of the household were ax-murdered at the actor’s home in
the Sendagaya district by a twenty-two-year-old member of Nizaemon’s
staff who explained to the police, after being found hiding at a rural spa
resort on March 20, that he had not been given as much to eat as had
other household and staff members. Newspaper articles also tied the tragedy
to the outmoded master-disciple relationships associated with feudalism
and sustained by kabuki.
But Onoe Kikugor
VI and Nakamura Kichiemon I, the great stars
popularly known in tandem as Kiku-Kichi, were theatre gods who wielded
 The Occupation Commences and Actors Return 39

Figure 8 Nakamura Kichiemon I. (Photograph courtesy of Faubion Bowers.)

tremendous influence and do not seem to have wanted for anything. Atsumi
Seitar
writes of Kikugor
, known for his childish behavior:

It was a time of food shortages but if Kikugor
said, “Bring me some

eel,” there it was. There was no sake, but he didn’t have to say, “I’d like
some sake,” for there to be plenty of it. . . . During this period there was
no way you could have obtained certain things, but such was Kiku-
gor
’s prestige that all he had to do was make a single phone call and
there were enough soba noodles, tenpura, sushi, or whatever.11

Kichiemon I, for his part, was buying expensive cars when people
were suffering from war shortages. In his autobiography, he reveals,
“My first was a Hudson, but, after I moved to Ushigome, I switched to a
Studebaker.”12

h,H
Although actors, like everyone else in the immediate postwar days, were
preoccupied with food and consumer goods, their principal concern was
40 The Occupation Commences and Actors Return

getting back on the stage, especially those who had served in the armed
forces. Nakamura Matagor
II remembers how his actor’s blood began to
boil again when the war ended:

I was in Ishinomaki, Sendai. I was called up in 1944 and, just like that,
I was in the navy. But it was at the Japan Red Cross hospital in Ishino-
maki. . . . I was a medic. Then, the war was over. I had some unsettled
affairs to resolve and one day was on duty in the sickroom, which had
a radio. Kabuki began and there was the sound of the ki clappers. The
late Ichikawa Ennosuke II [1886–1963] and then Ichikawa Jukai [1886–
1971] were doing Ataka no Seki.13 I could hear the musical accompani-
ment and the drumbeats suggesting the mountain winds. I thought, ah,
I can act again. I wanted to go back, but there was no way, I couldn’t
budge. I even thought of deserting. I even thought of such a crazy thing.

During the war, as described in Chapter 2, the content of plays had

been strictly controlled and, with the closing of the theatres, kabuki was
practically dead. What was worse, a number of young actors were drafted,
and, for a time, it was impossible to be an actor. Once he was called up by
the armed forces, even Matagor
, who was not that worked up about such
things as theatrical censorship, began to worry seriously about his future
as an actor and seriously thought it was over between him and kabuki:

I thought that was it. Really, from now on, that’s it for kabuki. I seri-
ously wondered, what was I going to do if I couldn’t act? Well, there
was nothing I could do about it but to go home and give it some
thought. I’d been in the navy, I figured, and done physical labor. Be-
cause of the war, I’d moved to Kyoto, so I honestly considered the pos-
sibility of becoming a farmer somewhere in the nearby countryside.

In a 1993 Engekikai article, the late Onoe Baik
VII (1915–1995) said
that, during the war, he thought that if kabuki disappeared, he was re-
solved to become a businessman.14 “Yes, yes, that’s just the way other actors
were thinking, too,” said Matagor
. “The late Onoe Sh
roku, Baik
, and
others, this is what they’d be talking about at rehearsals. We were helpless
to do anything about it, so we wondered what’d happen if it turned out
that we couldn’t act. Everyone made jokes, but they thought about it.
Here’s what Sh
roku said.” Matagor
assumed a serious Sh
roku expres-
sion. “I’ll shine shoes. You look down when you shine shoes, so no one
will be able to see my face.”
Laughing, Matagor
continued: “It was like that, saying silly things.
They sound silly when you think about them today, but at the time we
 The Occupation Commences and Actors Return 41

were all very serious. That’s because, aside from shining shoes, actors are
not that clever at other things. So it was scary—there wasn’t much we
could do other than what we knew.”
Getting his affairs in order took some time, and Matagor
was not
discharged from the navy until May 1946.

I was discharged, but the trip from Sendai to Kyoto by steam train in
those days was a real pain. I went to Ueno Station in Tokyo where I
transferred to the T
kaid
line, which took more than a day. Then,
after two days, I finally reached home. Two days after I arrived I got a
telegram. Kichiemon’s troupe was going to perform at Nikko, and, if I
were demobilized, would I like to come? Seeing this, I took off for Nikko
a day later. And I was back in kabuki again.

Ichimura Uzaemon XVII was two years younger than Matagor
. From
1938 to 1940, he served in the army’s motorized corps as a driver and was
stationed in Japan. He was back in the army from August 1943 to the end
of the war, this time serving abroad. At the war’s end, he traveled from
Manchuria to Southern China and finally reached Saseb
, near Nagasaki,
where he was told by his company commander, in words he never forgot,
“Up to now you may have had your own lives, but your lives were not
yours to do with as you chose. From now on, your lives are your own. So
make the most of all of them.” Naturally, what Uzaemon immediately
thought of when he heard this was kabuki. “The first thing that popped
into my mind was now I can go back on the stage. It felt great.”
Uzaemon returned to Tokyo on November 16, 1945, three months
after the war:

I was amazed when I got off at Shinbashi station. Everything was burned
out so you could see as far as Fukugawa with nothing to block your
view. The place I had been staying at was in front of an elementary
school in Nogisaka. But when I got there, it was burned down and
nothing was left. My family had evacuated the city for the Shibu hot
springs in Shinsh so that’s where I headed. Then, the next day my
temperature climbed to 40 degrees centigrade and I went to sleep for a
month. I don’t know what brought on the fever, but I think it must
have been fatigue and a feeling of lassitude.

The first thing actors thought when the war ended was, “Now I can
do kabuki again; I can tread the boards.”
Uzaemon got his wish, but of his first postwar stage appearance, he
stated:
42 The Occupation Commences and Actors Return

I wondered how the stage could be so scary. I’d been off the stage for
about two years, but I couldn’t remember more than three lines. What
I understood with my mind, I couldn’t execute with my body. It took
about a half a year. That’s what the stage is like. Leaving it is terrible.
Even now, if I don’t act for three months, it takes me a week to ten
days to get my voice back.

h,H
The war was over and kabuki was starting up again, but its suppression
had not ended. The journey back for postwar classical theatre was a bumpy
one. The actors’ joy at being able to do kabuki again was momentary and
premature. Instead of the wartime government’s control, they now had to
contend with the net of censorship imposed by GHQ. It took until November
1947, a period of two years and three months, for kabuki to be cleared of
suspicion and for all censorship restrictions to be lifted. The leading role in
this drama was played by Faubion Bowers.
Kabuki Censorship Begins

In Reminiscences, MacArthur wrote, “Japan had become the world’s great

laboratory for an experiment in the liberation of a people from totalitarian
military rule and for the liberalization of government from within.”1 The
Occupation policy was a grand, historically unprecedented one whereby,
through strong political leadership and systematic and thorough educa-
tional propaganda, Japan’s entire value system—so different from that of
the West—was to be overturned and homogenized in the fashion of the
occupying powers. This Occupation, unlike those of the past, was not
simply concerned with the victorious nation depriving the vanquished one
of its arms, stripping it of its power, and collecting reparations. Its emphasis
on ideological control was unique.
The Occupation was a laboratory with two goals. One was the com-
plete eradication of what—from the Western point of view—was the incom-
prehensible and bizarre Japanese race, supported by a strange and inscru-
table mythology. The second was the remodeling of Japan in the image of
American democracy.
MacArthur recounts the thoughts he had from the moment he was
appointed SCAP:

First destroy the military power. Punish war criminals. Build the struc-
ture of representative government. Modernize the constitution. Hold
free elections. Enfranchise the women. Release the political prisoners.

43
44 Kabuki Censorship Begins

Liberate the farmers. Establish a free labor movement. Encourage a free

economy. Abolish police oppression. Develop a free and responsible
press. Liberalize education. Decentralize political power. Separate church
from state.2

This was certainly a kind of revolution. The United States would force
on the Japanese a revolution they were unable to effect on their own. And
every feature of the Japanese value system would make a 180-degree
about-face.
In brief, the objective of the U.S. government and MacArthur’s Occu-
pation was physical disarmament (demilitarization) and spiritual disarma-
ment (democratization). The U.S. government had rapidly conceived these
potential goals for Japan in the last stages of the war as Japan neared its
final defeat. Demilitarization was intended to prevent Japan from ever again
threatening world peace; democratization sought to impose an alien kind
of order on the country.
In order to achieve these aims, MacArthur himself quickly addressed
the problems. The fact that he immediately came to grips with the issues of
speech and expression in a “free and responsible press” reveals the impor-
tance he placed—while not ignoring other problems—on such matters. It
should go without saying that this book’s subject, kabuki, also must be
spoken of as a category of free speech and expression. But, unfortunately,
theatre did not have such freedom. Regrettably, the creation of a “free and
responsible press” did not include securing universal freedom of speech
and expression.
Certainly, the severe repression of speech imposed by the prewar
military and police vanished. It is clear that there was a wide-scale expan-
sion of freedom of speech in such things as the release of imprisoned polit-
ical, communist, journalistic, and artistic critics of the former system and
in the republication of numerous banned books and magazines. But the
freedom of speech and expression spoken of by MacArthur was a freedom
that, as far as possible, was suited to the scope of American national inter-
ests. A “free and responsible press” meant only speech that served the
Occupation’s goals. News that was useful for promoting Occupation policies
was secure, but anything doubtful or critical of Occupation policies was for-
bidden. Even photographs of MacArthur had to be approved by Mrs. Mac-
Arthur before they could be published.
This censorship was not only aimed at newspapers. Beginning with
radio and publishing and extending to movies and theatre, all media using
speech and expression were subject to strict Occupation censorship.
In 1942, right after the Bataan Death March, when the American gov-
 Kabuki Censorship Begins 45

ernment clamped down on the divulgence of any news about this horren-
dous example of Japanese military atrocity, MacArthur introduced his criti-
cism thusly:

Perhaps the Administration, which was committed to a Europe-first

effort, feared American public opinion would demand a greater reac-
tion against Japan, but whatever the cause, here was the sinister be-
ginning of the “managed news” concept by those in power. Here was
the first move against that freedom of expression so essential to liberty.
It was the introduction, under a disarming slogan, of a type of censor-
ship which can easily become a menace to a free press and a threat to
the liberties of a free people.3

This truly is what is meant by the Japanese locution “to spit at

heaven” (ten ni tsubasuru), or, we might say, “to tempt the fates” by criticiz-
ing others for something of which we ourselves may be guilty. Thus, Mac-
Arthur himself was no exception to the ill-omened idiosyncrasies of those
in power. That he was a master manipulator of the media during the war
is now well known; when he rose to the position of SCAP, however, he
became merciless when it came to news commentary with which he was
unhappy.
On September 10, 1945, a mere eight days after the surrender, GHQ
already had promulgated five articles comprising a directive on freedom of
the press. News that was not true or that was dangerous to public tranquil-
lity was banned. Anything that might have a bad influence on Japan’s
efforts to join the world’s peace-loving nations was prohibited. False or de-
structive criticism of the Allies was closely regulated. And it was announced
that any disagreement with this directive would lead to the cessation of
publication by the organ in question. “True” and “false” was determined
by the Occupation’s interpretation of these concepts.
Article 5 of the September 10 directive had warned: “The Supreme
Commander will suspend any publication or radio station which publishes
information that fails to adhere to the truth or disturbs public tranquility.”4
Still, the long repressed news media could not restrain themselves from an
outburst of circulation-boosting “yellow journalism” and often went over-
board in their mixture of fact and fiction. It was not long before the Occu-
pation cracked down. For instance, because it published articles critical of
Occupation policy, the government news agency, D
mei Tsshin, was shut
down on September 14. Soon after, on September 18, the Asahi Shinbun
newspaper was closed for two days. And the censorship grew ever more
rigorous, with overzealous censors using their powers against even the most
46 Kabuki Censorship Begins

innocuous of alleged criticisms. It was later agreed, however, that, apart

from the annoying nature of such interference, no serious long-range
damage was done and that the Japanese press actually matured consider-
ably under the duress.5
Japan was not recognized as having equal rights with other civilized
nations. The nation was viewed by the Allied Powers as a defeated enemy.
There was no negotiating between the two sides, and the Supreme Com-
mander did not negotiate when he gave orders to the Japanese govern-
ment. It was reminiscent of the old Tokugawa period expression used by
samurai toward commoners: “Talking with you is useless and I’ll cut you
down like a dog” (mond
muy
kirisute no gomen).
Despite the protection of freedom of speech and expression being a
cornerstone of American democracy, it here—while wearing a mask of
kindness—actually implied a threat. Article 10 of the Potsdam Declaration
declared:

We do not intend that the Japanese shall be enslaved as a race or de-

stroyed as a nation, but stern justice shall be meted out to all war crim-
inals, including those who have visited cruelties upon our prisoners.
The Japanese government shall remove all obstacles to the revival and
strengthening of democratic tendencies among the Japanese people.
Freedom of speech, of religion, and of thought, as well as respect for
the fundamental human rights shall be established.6

The contradiction inherent in the early Occupation’s position regarding

speech and expression is reflected in Article 10, where it calls for the re-
moval of “all obstacles to the revival and strengthening of democratic ten-
dencies” and the establishment of “freedom of speech, of religion, and of
thought, as well as respect for the fundamental human rights.” The goal of
the first statement and the idea of the second frequently came into conflict
with one another. As literary critic Et
Jun points out, we can glimpse this,
for example, in the reports on Japan by contemporary foreign correspon-
dents, of which he gives examples: “Japan has been defeated physically
but not spiritually”; “The causes of the war are often discussed in Japan
but there is barely any talk of responsibility for it”; “The Japanese have ab-
solutely no sense of guilt about the war. They still believe it to have been a
holy crusade.”7
These correspondents’ views are, perhaps, close to the mark. In order
to enlighten the people and change their attitudes regarding their poten-
tial guilt vis à vis the war’s alleged justness, it was necessary to replace the
Japanese belief in what was just with that of the Americans. The Japanese
 Kabuki Censorship Begins 47

had to be led to see that the war was unjust, that it was a war of aggres-
sion. To do this, the Occupation Army, beginning with the press, forced all
speech to conform to its point of view. MacArthur had criticized Wash-
ington, D.C., for manipulating the news, but what he was doing was no
different.8
At the same time, this left a stain on American Occupation policy.
The United States assured freedom of speech for Japan in order to promote
democracy. According to American sources, the policy was not to demand
democracy but to invite the Japanese to accept it. On the other hand,
however, the American strategy embraced an overwhelming censorship.
From that perspective, it was nothing but a denial of democracy’s ideology.
Beginning with the Japanese constitution, the main pillars support-
ing the basic structure of today’s Japanese social system were coerced into
being against a background of American power; there exist in these pillars
warps and distortions that, half a century after the war, rise up in every
field in various contradictory forms.
Japan’s freedom of speech is no exception. Interpret it as you will,
Article 10 of the Potsdam Declaration, which ensures “freedom of speech,”
was clearly subverted by the directives of the American government and
MacArthur. Even considering Japan’s subordinate position to the United
States, it is apparent that these policies, at the very least, went too far.
After the September 10, 1945, directive on freedom of the press,
orders enforcing control came fast and furiously. On September 22, the
“United States Initial Post-Surrender Policy for Japan” was made known.9
It expressed America’s basic ideas concerning the occupation of Japan and
was a guidebook that served as a vital notification of the policies to be car-
ried out during the Occupation.
The two big policies revealed were the aforementioned “demilitariza-
tion” and “democratization.” It advocated the elimination from politics, eco-
nomics, and society of all militarists and their influence and it promoted
the establishment of a democratic system of representation. It spoke with
respectful encouragement of the basic human rights, especially the freedom
of worship, assembly, speech, and press.
On the same day, for the first time, alongside these basic goals, the
Civil Information and Education Section (CI&E), a censorship arm of SCAP,
issued a notice regarding films and theatre. These were SCAP’s first direc-
tives to movie and theatre people regarding regulations for production
policy and control.
Kabuki scholar Kawatake Toshio wrote about these times in a 1995
issue of Bungei Shunj.10 Kawatake’s father, Kawatake Shigetoshi, was the
adopted son of the great nineteenth-century kabuki playwright Kawatake
48 Kabuki Censorship Begins

Mokuami; he had headed the Tsubouchi Memorial Theatre Museum at

Waseda University; and he was the outstanding kabuki scholar of his day.
During the Occupation, Kawatake Shigetoshi often took part in GHQ nego-
tiations regarding kabuki, acting as a principal Japanese representative,
and he was very active in the efforts to lift the censorship. The document
of September 22, which—because of its occasionally awkward Japanese—
Prof. Kawatake believed was prepared by Nisei, is as follows:

The Supreme Commander declares three basic objectives for the Allied
Powers’ Occupation forces:
1. The annihilation of Japanese militarism and militaristic nationalism.
2. The promotion of religious freedom, the right to assembly, etc., and
other fundamental freedoms encompassed by the development of
democratic tendencies.
3. Education aimed at ensuring that Japan shall not again threaten
peace or disturb world harmony.

As described below, film production in the movie industry will com-

prise many methods to achieve the above three goals. Namely:
a. The showing of Japanese in all walks of life working for the build-
ing of a peaceful nation.
b. The representation of the Japanese armed forces making their
journey back to civilian life.
c. The treatment of Japanese prisoners of war held by the Allies in
their return to civilian life.
d. The resolution of postwar problems in manufacturing, agriculture,
and all facets of national life, and the encouragement of individual
rights and enterprise.
e. The support of peaceful and constructive formation of labor
unions.
f. The promotion of political consciousness and a sense of respon-
sibility among the people in opposition to the usual bureaucratic
government.
g. The advocacy of free discussion of political problems.
h. Education in respect for individual rights.
i. Support for tolerance and respect for all peoples and classes.
j. The dramatization of individuals in Japanese history who strove
for freedom and a representative government.

The essential problems facing Japanese films and theatre are as follows:

Kabuki drama, with its feudalistic codes of loyalty and its treatment
of revenge, is not suitable for the modern world. As long as treason,
 Kabuki Censorship Begins 49

murder, fraud, etc., are publicly justified, and individuals seeking

revenge take the law into their own hands are permitted to be
shown, the Japanese people will be unable to understand the fun-
damental behavior governing international relations in the modern
world. In the West, you cannot escape blame for the commission of
a serious crime; at its very least, Western logic is predicated upon
the distinction between good and evil, and is not dependent on a
people’s or race’s sense of feudal loyalty. In order to assume their
place among the nations of the world, the Japanese people must
acquire—through the entertainment and news media—the funda-
mental ideals of a nation based on universal suffrage, respect for
individuals, and mutual respect among nations. Japan’s unique
qualities of cooperation and autonomy, discernible in the family,
must, during the course of the nation’s reconstruction based on
labor unions, form a part of Japanese life. With training in these
basic concepts, it will be possible to provide a dramatically special
background. . . . 11

The first regulations concerning control of movies and theatre victim-

ized kabuki in particular. The American Occupation, whose aim was to erad-
icate Japanese militarism, had to wipe out the people’s feudalistic sense of
loyalty. The Occupation, with its goal of establishing a democratic system
of representation, had to abolish personal revenge that ignored legal re-
course. Viewed with American eyes, feudalism’s most conspicuous wicked-
ness appeared in kabuki.
MacArthur wrote in his memoirs about the Japanese idea of such
things:

Supposedly, the Japanese were a twentieth-century civilization. In real-

ity, they were more nearly a feudal society, of the type discarded by
Western nations some four centuries ago. There were aspects of Japa-
nese life that went even further back than that. Although theocracy was
a system of government that had been thoroughly discredited by 3,000
years of progress in the Western world, it still existed in Japan. The Em-
peror was considered a divine being. . . . This God-Emperor was abso-
lute. His word was final. . . . Indeed, an American viewing Japan would
be inclined to class it as more nearly akin to Sparta than to any modern
nation.12

If America were to be Japan’s teacher in democracy, it was essential for the

Japanese to recognize this.
Faubion Bowers’s ex-wife, Santha Rama Rau, who first came to Japan
in 1947, was told by her father, India’s first ambassador to Japan, “Go see
50 Kabuki Censorship Begins

Japanese theatre. The fastest road to understanding a people’s ideas is their

theatre.” A nation’s thoughts appear in its literature and drama, and these
surely reflect the people’s lives. What does not appear in plays and litera-
ture, one might say, does not exist in the people’s lives.
While watching a play, one is struck by the living thoughts of the
people. One sees through to the bottom of their hearts. Drama is a place
haunted by the nation’s most deeply embedded traditions, customs, and
manners. In other words, drama is a mirror reflecting the people’s latent
value system. In this sense, it was only natural that the American policy
toward governing Japan was aimed at kabuki, the nation’s traditional
theatre. It hit the bull’s-eye.
Even if, as Ikenami Sh
tar
observed in the previous chapter, kabuki’s
tradition is in the ongoing physical artistry of its actors, and not in the
ideas of its texts, no amount of argument would have convinced the Occu-
pation authorities of this. Kabuki’s themes of loyalty toward one’s master,
seppuku, head inspections, revenge, and other manifestations of admira-
tion for feudal virtues could be nothing but taboo in Occupation eyes.
Let us look at one more instance of a directive issued by GHQ at the
time. In April 1975, the theatre magazine Higeki Kigeki published a collec-
tion of essays about theatre under the Occupation. In one essay, Kaneko
Ichir
, a famous star of the sword fighting genre called shinkokugeki, de-
scribed a three-page directive issued in October 1945. The following state-
ments come from the directive: “Hereafter, the censorship of the Japanese
police will end. When ordered to do so, the police will naturally refuse,
so refer the matter to GHQ.” “Feudalism, militarism, the warrior’s code
(bushid
), and suicide will not be approved. There will be no infringement
on the people’s interests by blind adherence to nondemocratic feudal ideas.”
“The selling of wives in order to pay off parents’ or husbands’ debts is a
denial of women’s rights. Plays depicting this will be forbidden.” “General
MacArthur’s name absolutely may not be mentioned. Plays critical of the
Allied Occupation Army are prohibited.”13
Kaneko observed with distaste: “More and more censorship took place.
. . . What you could not do piled ever higher. Still, prewar censorship was
also quite severe. Extol national pride, advocate the warrior’s code, praise
the national spirit. Different times, different methods. What probably re-
mained the same was obscenity.”14 Kaneko was referring to the Occupa-
tion attitude toward shinkokugeki, but his statement fits kabuki to a T. About
kabuki, Kaneko wrote, with obvious sympathy, “Kabuki suffered the most
from these censorship regulations. Prohibitions and cancellations were
ordered everywhere.”15
 Kabuki Censorship Begins 51

h,H
On January 2, 1945, eight months before the war ended, Toita Yasuji, editor
of the theatre magazine Nihon Engeki, left a New Year’s party and was
walking somewhere in the vicinity of the Kabuki-za with the magazine’s
chairman, Kubota Mantar
. Coming toward them was a group of three or
four men, one of them a robust fellow dressed in persimmon-colored
clothes and wearing a gauze, hygienic mask. As they were about to pass,
the man shouted out to Kubota, familiarly, “Kubo-chan!” When the star-
tled and chagrined Kubota asked the man to remove his mask, it turned
out to be kabuki star Onoe Kikugor
VI, who simply said, “Let’s do some-
thing,” glared sharply at Kubota, and briskly continued on his way.
Under wartime pressures, kabuki actors had little leeway, what with
plays sharply curtailed, theatres closing, and, moreover, young acting dis-
ciples away at war. Kikugor
’s “Let’s do something” was like a wish burst-
ing forth from the bottom of his heart; indeed, it was a prayer.
Kabuki made a rapid return to the stage after the war, although there
were scarcely any suitable theatres in which to perform it. While the T
h

Corporation’s Tokyo theatres, such as the Teikoku Gekij
, the T
ky
Taka-
razuka Gekij
, the Yuraku-za, and the Nichigeki, emerged virtually un-
scarred, Sh
chiku, which controlled most of kabuki, had lost all but one of
its theatres, including the Kabuki-za. That one remaining was the T
ky

Gekij
(popularly called the T
geki), a large playhouse seating nearly
1,900 and built in 1930 in the Tsukiji section, about two blocks from the
Kabuki-za. This well-equipped venue had all of the appropriate kabuki
architectural components, including a revolving stage and audience runway
(hanamichi).16 On September 1, 1945, only two weeks after the surrender,
the T
geki presented Ichikawa Ennosuke II and his company in Kurozuka
and T
kaid
ch Hizakurige.
In October 1945, Kikugor
, who had signed a contract with T
h
,
starred at the Teikoku Gekij
in the kabuki dance Kagami Jishi and the
modern drama Ginza Fukk
(Ginza Revival). The latter was adapted by
Kubota Mantar
from a work by Mizukami Takitar
, who based it on his
experiences as a regular at a small restaurant set up in a Ginza barracks
after the great earthquake of 1923, when the Ginza was in ruins. Its hero,
Bunkichi, played by Kikugor
, was modeled after the proprietor, Hachimaki
Okada, whose restaurant is still in business today. The play—in which Onoe
Sh
roku II made his first postdemobilization appearance—was a fitting
tribute to the times. Kikugor
’s comment to Kubota, “Let’s do something,”
had become a reality within two months of the war’s conclusion. Of
52 Kabuki Censorship Begins

course, Ennosuke’s selections in no way challenged the memorandum of

September 22.
One day during the run, Kikugor
addressed the audience at the end
of the performance, saying, “If we’ve got any problems, let’s tell them to
MacArthur,”17 and he playfully pointed to his left. The Dai-Ichi Insurance
Building, where GHQ had established its main operations, was to the left
and practically next door to the Teikoku Gekij
. Contrary to Kikugor
’s
expectations, however, MacArthur turned out to be more a god of the
plague for kabuki than its god of good fortune.
On October 10, GHQ’s CI&E abolished the Japanese wartime “Regu-
lations for the Control of Theatrical Production” that were issued by the
Ministry of Internal Affairs in February 1944, giving the ministry the au-
thority to censor all play scripts. In its place, GHQ established a censorship
of its own. This was concretized between late October and early November,
and Capt. John Boruff, head of censorship for CI&E, conveyed it to the
representatives of the Sh
chiku, T
h
, and Yoshimoto companies and all
other producing organizations on November 9.18 The contents were as
follows:

Hereafter, plays that are going to be performed must conform to the

promulgated production guidelines.
1. One week before production, an English-language plot summary,
and both a Japanese and English script, must be presented to CI&E.
2. No script changes will be permitted after censorship review. If
unauthorized changes are made, production will be halted.
3. From December 1, at least 30 percent of each company’s repertoire
must be new works.19

The Japanese theatre world appears to have considered these condi-

tions lenient. However, an incident that caused the kabuki world to shake
in its boots occurred right after the GHQ censorship was issued. On Novem-
ber 4, a production by the troupe of Matsumoto K
shir
VII (1870–1949)
and Nakamura Kichiemon I opened at the T
geki. This was the first postwar
program divided into day and evening performances. On the daytime, or
matinee, program were Sakura Giminden and the “Tadanobu no Michiyuki”
dance scene from Senbon Zakura. The evening bill contained the “Terakoya”
scene from Sugawara and the dance called Futa Omote Shinobu Sugata-e.
However, in what came to be known as “the ‘Terakoya’ incident,” GHQ
soon canceled that work.
For the first ten days of the run, nothing happened. The so-called
“incident” is said to have occurred on November 15 or 16. Kichiemon was
 Kabuki Censorship Begins 53

Figure 9 Nakamura Kichiemon I as Matsu
maru in

“Terakoya.” Although he played Genz
in the censored
production of the play, Kichiemon played a variety
of major roles in the frequently revived classics and
Matsu
maru was one of his greatest characters.

playing Takebe Genz
, who says the controversial line, “To be in service
to a lord is an unenviable lot,” as discussed in Chapter 2. Matsu
maru
was played by K
shir
 Matsu
maru’s wife, Chiyo, was acted by Naka-
mura Tokiz
III (1895–1959); and Genz
’s wife, Tonami, was in the hands
of Nakamura Kanzabur
XVII.
According to what became a well-known story in kabuki circles,
during the scene of Matsu
maru’s head inspection (kubi jikken), the Japa-
nese police, supposedly followed by American MPs, mounted the stage
and stopped the production. The head inspection scene shows how Matsu

54 Kabuki Censorship Begins

maru, hoping to save the life of Kan Shsai, arranges to have his own son,
Kotar
, decapitated so that his head can be used as a substitute. Until this
point, Matsu
maru has seemed a villain, but he owes a secret obligation to
Kotar
’s father, Lord Sugawara, and chooses to repay his debt of loyalty by
sacrificing his own child in place of Sugawara’s. The revelation of the
head—which requires Matsu
maru to express many conflicting emotions
—is the scene’s greatest moment.20
“Terakoya” belongs to a group of plays sometimes called “substitu-
tion dramas” (migawari ky
gen). With its child slaughter and head inspec-
tion on behalf of allegiance to one’s lord, its full complement of feudal
virtues—sometimes summed up in the expression yamato damashii (Japa-
nese feudal spirit)—gave GHQ the jitters. A contemporary memo of Kawa-
take Shigetoshi’s stated:

We were worried, but the officials had given permission, so we saw it

as a test case. Then, around the tenth day, Boruff made an inspection
visit, and on the fifteenth or sixteenth, the order to stop production
within four days was delivered. Also, some Japanese sent a letter to a
newspaper, asking, “Should we see plays with such feudal allegiances?”
So, the officials decided to stop the production.21

This order led Sh
chiku to cancel “Terakoya” on November 20. Start-

ing the next day, the afternoon program was performed on both halves of
the daily bill. GHQ had flexed its muscles and the theatre world immedi-
ately began to buzz with rumors that kabuki would either be damaged or
destroyed. However, although the next two years would be like a bad dream
for Sh
chiku, the first cessation of a kabuki production also turned out to
be the last. In 1961, Kawatake wrote in Engekikai: “Of course there was
precensorship, but Sh
chiku said it had submitted a plot outline and had
received permission.”22
GHQ censorship documents pertaining to kabuki during the Occupa-
tion are housed at Washington, D.C.’s, National Archives, where there are
20,000 to 30,000 corrugated cardboard boxes containing every sort of Occu-
pation period censorship document. Approximately 99 percent of these con-
cern newspapers, magazines, or books, while only five boxes deal with
kabuki. Even with the help of an archival research specialist, it took three
days to retrieve the censorship documents.
Ultimately, no independent index of these documents has been cre-
ated; instead, these materials are included in the same index with movies.
Covered in dust and casually stuffed in a box are Sh
chiku’s documents,
rendered in English and typed on thin paper in blue ink. Packed too tightly
and left to lie there for decades, the paper is brittle and crumbling.
 Kabuki Censorship Begins 55

One English-language document reads: “SHOCHIKU ‘SUKEROKU

YUKARI-NO EDO-ZAKURA’ Kabuki-Play Written by Tsumura [sic ] Jihei.
To be presented by Kikugoro Kichiemon, etc. at the Tokyo Theatre May 5–
31, 46.”
The archives contain, among other documents, English translations
of kabuki’s three great dramas, Chshingura, Sugawara, and Senbon Zakura.
One document in particular caught my eye. Titled “SUGAWARA DENJU
TENARAI KAGAMI,” it was a single sheet of paper, with twenty or so lines
in English providing a simple plot summary of “Terakoya.” The following
is the English text exactly as it was presented to the censors. Spelling and
grammar have not been corrected.

Oct. 18, 1945

SUGAWARA DENJU TENARAI KAGAMI

Written by the late Izumo Takeda

Scene of Terakoya viz. “Repayment of one’s kindness at a great sacri-

fice”—Scene of a Private School which is to be performed by Koshiro
Matsumoto and Kichiemon Nakamura with their respective troupe at
the Tokyo Theatre in November.

“Repayment of one’s kindness at a great sacrifice” scene of pri-

vate school-, which is in gist as follows:
Matsuomaru, hero of this play, was obliged to side with his master,
Shihei in a wrong-doing. The plot was that he would have to kill a son
of Mr. Sugawara who had been very kind to his parents and brothers.
The son had been hiding himself in the house of a man named Takebe
master of penmanship, as his pupil. After much consideration Matsuo
decided to rescue the son of Mr. Sugawara even at the sacrifice of his
own son and made his son a pupil of Takebe.
For the repayment of Sugawara kindness for his family.
Thus Matsu made Genzo kill his son instead of Sugawara son.
Happly nabody could tell that Matsuo’s son was killed as his son re-
sembled the son of Sugawara just like two peas. Matsuo begged Shihei
to dismiss him and started for a journey with his wife to console his
son’s spirit.23

The document is dated the same day that Sh
chiku presented its summary
of “Terakoya” to CI&E. Clearly, Sh
chiku, applying for production permis-
sion, gave the document to CI&E nearly half a month before the beginning
of the production starring K
shir
and Kichiemon.
Kawatake Shigetoshi’s 1961 comment regarding precensorship obvi-
ously points to this document. Nevertheless, the summary is too brief and
56 Kabuki Censorship Begins

simple. Its cool treatment of the play’s contents and highlights does not
emphasize problems that should have been brought to GHQ’s attention;
this summary alone would have made it difficult for CI&E to obtain a
concrete picture of “Terakoya.” There certainly was no way the American
censors could have anticipated the climactic scene in which the decapi-
tated head of Matsu
maru’s son, Kotar
, is brought onto the stage and
examined. This is not to say that Sh
chiku deceived CI&E, but it was wish-
ful thinking on its part that its barebones outline could continue to pass the
censors’ scrutiny. GHQ’s antipathy toward kabuki was too severe for that.
GHQ forbade the production ten days after it opened. In the sense
that it was GHQ’s first decisive action toward the theatre, the “Tera-
koya” incident startled both Sh
chiku and its actors. However, Kawatake
Shigetoshi’s son, Kawatake Toshio, writing in Bungei Shunj, had “consid-
erable doubts” that, just as Kotar
’s head was brought on, the Japanese
police, backed by American soldiers, burst onto the stage and stopped the
proceedings:

Since CI&E took a very self-disciplined posture toward Japan, it did

not intend to create animosity among the spectators. I find it very hard
to conceive of the picture of Japanese police, protected by American
soldiers, suddenly appearing on stage. . . . For one thing, “Terakoya” was
allowed to continue for another five days. Japanese, no matter who,
really find the story curious.24

Kawatake’s remark about CI&E not wishing to create a disturbance points

to a very important aspect of Occupation policy. Regardless of whether the
police action occurred as described earlier, “Terakoya” definitely was shut
down.
MacArthur’s power was supreme, yet the reformation he carried out
was not created by edict. As far as possible, he wanted it to look as if the
Japanese brought it about voluntarily. He wrote in Reminiscences: “These
things had to come from the Japanese themselves, and they had to come
because the Japanese sincerely wanted them. . . . I knew that the whole
Occupation would fail if we did not proceed from this one basic assump-
tion—the reform had to come from the Japanese.”25
America’s Occupation of Japan was not direct rule based on the
imposition of its political structure but an indirect rule founded on using
and managing the Japanese political structure. All American policy direc-
tives were put into effect through the Japanese government. Because of
this principle of indirect rule, orders from GHQ usually had to be a final
step. MacArthur wrote, “Nothing that was good in the new Japanese
 Kabuki Censorship Begins 57

government was going to be done because I imposed it. . . . Any change

pressed home on those grounds would last only as long as I lasted.”26
This may have been the Occupation’s philosophy, but the Japanese
saw things somewhat differently. Toita Yasuji observed: “Instead of making
public orders, the Occupation Army usually issued its views and proclama-
tions as ‘directives.’ But there was no doubt that they were strict orders.”27
Regardless of its intent, GHQ made it its business not to issue commands.
It is hard to believe that GHQ—which did not issue public commands and
preferred to seek obedience to its will indirectly through the stratagem of
directives—would have had the Japanese police and American soldiers
mount the stage in front of an audience during a show and stop it from
continuing.
Newspaper and magazine censorship prevented any word of the can-
cellation from being reported. Everything was handled covertly. The alter-
ation of the program in midrun could not be hidden from general view,
but there was no way that anyone could have known what had happened
between Sh
chiku and CI&E. Whether we call it a CI&E “cease-production
order” or, as GHQ might have put it, a “cease-production directive,” coer-
cion was definitely involved.
The “Terakoya” incident symbolizes a striking reversal in the sense of
values from prewar to postwar censorship. Before the war, “Terakoya” was
the most suitable of plays for extolling the war spirit, one that the entire
imperial nation could have watched together. After the war it was—as far
as democratization was concerned—the most evil of plays, one that could
not be shown to the Japanese people under any circumstances. With this
incident, Occupation theatre control had been tightened by a notch and
the censorship’s intentions had been solidified.
Other kabuki masterpieces fell into the same category as “Terakoya.”
One of the most important is “Kumagai Jinya,” a famous scene from Ichi-
notani Futaba Gunki. It resembles “Terakoya” with its tale of a samurai
who, because of loyalty toward his lord, must kill and decapitate his own
son, using his son’s head as a substitute. Such a theme cannot be fully
grasped without considering Confucian virtues as exemplified during the
Tokugawa period. You cannot use today’s social criteria to answer the ques-
tion, “Why, regardless of samurai loyalty, must things get to where one
must kill his own child?”
Confucianism says that master and vassal relationships last three
existences, those between husband and wife two existences, and those be-
tween parents and child one existence.28 The three unchanging existences
of the master-vassal relationship are a previous life, this life, and the next
life. A husband and wife’s relationship lasts for this existence and the next
58 Kabuki Censorship Begins

one, while the single one between parent and child is for this world only.
During the Tokugawa era, this concept ruled society absolutely. As a law
that reverses the principles of human nature, it created numerous trage-
dies. One may have had to sacrifice his child, but the master-vassal path
was sustained. At any rate, in the samurai world, the relationship between
parent and child—when compared with those between master and vassal
and husband and wife—was the weakest.
One thing more about the incident that must be mentioned from
Kawatake Shigetoshi’s memo is the letter to the newspaper asking, “Should
we see plays with such feudal allegiances?” This letter seems to have been
from more than one writer. Was it a reaction to the nation’s hitherto
extreme militarism wherein the Japanese rejected this play because they
themselves felt such distaste for and fear about its contents, or was it the
thoughtless hue and cry of brown-nosers submitting blindly to the new
power over them? It is hard today to pick one or the other, but whichever
it was, it expressed the unsettled theatre atmosphere of the early Occupa-
tion period.
Right after the “Terakoya” incident, on November 16, GHQ ordered
the Japanese government to prohibit the showing of 236 movies made be-
tween 1931 and 1945 because of excessive feudalistic, militaristic, or nation-
alistic tendencies. Among those cited were Sh
chiku’s Miyamoto Musashi,
Yukinoj
Henge, Aru Onna; Nikkatsu’s Shusse Taik
ki, Daibosatsu T
ge, Yaji Kita
D
chki; Daiei’s Kurabe Tengu, Dokuganry Masamune, Goj no T
 and T
h
’s
Sugata Sanshir
, Sui Koden, and Mito K
mon Manyki. Kabuki also witnessed
various plays being banned for unexplained reasons. Many of the prohibi-
tions—like those the Japanese themselves had imposed during the war—
seemed purely arbitrary, almost willful.
Take, for example, the film Mito K
mon Manyki. The reason for ban-
ning it was that, during the Tokugawa period, the Mito clan had followed
an antiforeign nationalism and advocated the slogan of “Revere the em-
peror, expel the barbarians.” Therefore, anything with the word Mito in
its title was automatically barred. Such stories may seem laughable today,
but that only makes more obvious the unspeakable hardships experienced
by theatre and movie workers in their negotiations with Occupation
authorities.
As for theatre, soon after the “Terakoya” incident, CI&E delivered an
extremely strict directive to Sh
chiku, T
h
, Yoshimoto, and the rest. Here,
for the record, is the uncut order:

I. Sh
chiku, T
h
, and Yoshimoto Companies (theatre, film, and

other entertainments) should submit all scripts they wish to pro-
duce with synopses.
 Kabuki Censorship Begins 59

II. Using the words “Good” or “Bad,” they are to indicate for every
play their positive or negative opinion.
III. Plays that deal with the following themes or subjects should not
be put on stage.
1. Vendettas, revenge
2. Nationalism, warlike behavior, or exclusivity
3. Distortion of historical facts
4. Segregation or religious discrimination
5. Feudal loyalty
6. Praise of militarism in the past, present, and future
7. Approval of suicide in any form
8. Women’s submission to men
9. Death, cruelty, or the triumph of evil
10. Antidemocracy
11. Approval of the illegal or unreasonable treatment of children
12. Praising personal devotion to a state, nation, race, the emperor,
or the Imperial Household
13. Anything against the Potsdam Declaration or the orders of
GHQ authorities29

As shinkokugeki star Kaneko Ichir
said, this was a real heap of “don’ts.”30
The many restrictions put kabuki, in particular, between a rock and a hard
place.
Based on the memories of Kawatake Shigetoshi—himself one of the
negotiators with the Occupation officials—I would like briefly to look back
at this moment in time.31
Kabuki, then as now, was a Sh
chiku monopoly. To say kabuki is
much the same as to say Sh
chiku. Sh
chiku’s officials paled when they
saw CI&E’s directive. According to the list, practically none of kabuki’s
repertory—particularly history plays—could be produced. The only per-
missible works were domestic love plays and dance dramas. The company
immediately formed an “Association for the Examination of Entertain-
ment and Culture” (Gein
Bunka Kent
Kai) made up of seven members,
including distinguished critics and scholars.
The association took five hundred scripts, divided them into good
and bad, and presented the list to CI&E.32 On December 3, 1945, Kawa-
take Shigetoshi received a call at home from Sh
chiku. “We’d like to have
you come to the CI&E theatre section tomorrow afternoon at 1:30 P.M.,”
he was told. On December 4, the seven members of the Gein
Bunka
Kent
Kai—End
Tameharu, Wakiya Mitsunobu, Kawajiri Seitan, Yoshida
Matsuji (who was capable of interpreting), Kawatake Shigetoshi, Kubota
Mantar
, and Atsumi Seitar
—met with CI&E in the latter’s offices on the
60 Kabuki Censorship Begins

sixth floor of the NHK (Nihon H
s
Ky
kai) Building in Chiyoda Ward.
CI&E was represented by Capt. John Boruff, head of the theatre section;
2d Lt. Earle Ernst, chief censor; Mrs. Enko Elisa Vaccari, the interpreter;
and two American Nisei, also there to help with interpretation. The CI&E
members had both the Sh
chiku list, with its good and bad plays, as well
as Iizuka Tomoichir
’s Kabuki Saiken,33 a 1926 book that systematically
organizes kabuki plays according to subject matter and gives short plot
summaries. CI&E went through the plays on the list, one after another,
from 1:30 P.M. to 5:00 P.M., asking question after question without even
stopping for a tea break. The discussion went more amicably than expected.
Kawatake Shigetoshi wrote:

I had a rather good impression of Boruff as a gentleman. If this had

been a Japanese official of the previous generation facing a nation that
had surrendered unconditionally, I think he would have taken a high-
handed attitude, saying from his lofty throne, this won’t do, that won’t
do, but the American attitude was really quite kind, considerate, and
peaceful.34

From Kawatake’s reminiscences, we can attempt a partial recreation

of the negotiations between Sh
chiku and CI&E. His notes are faithful to
the content of each side’s position, but I beg the reader’s indulgence for
shaping the words in the form of a dialogue.
The eponymous hero of Sukeroku has assumed the disguise of a com-
moner “street knight” (otokodate), but he is, in reality, the legendary
samurai hero Soga Gor
, out to seek revenge for the death of his father
and to recover a stolen heirloom sword. Set in the Yoshiwara pleasure
quarters, the play shows the dashing Sukeroku-Gor
goading one indi-
vidual after another to draw their swords so that he may see if they
possess the one for which he is searching. His mistress is the quarter’s lead-
ing courtesan, the redoubtable Agemaki. The vendetta carried out in 1193
by the Soga brothers, Gor
and Jr
, is one of the best-known legends in
Japanese history and formed the subject of hundreds of kabuki plays.
Sh
chiku had been told that they could not produce plays about vendettas
so, of course, the play was on their bad list.

CI&E: What about this play?

 The Yoshiwara depicted on the stage is like one of today’s

cafés. It’s a special democratic world where anyone, no matter what
their class, can come and go freely. Agemaki, the leading waitress, is
head over heels in love with the poor customer Sukeroku. Then the
 Kabuki Censorship Begins 61

wealthy and powerful bearded samurai Iky appears and tries to

snatch Agemaki, but she turns him down and professes her love for
Sukeroku. Finally, it becomes clear that Iky is a thief and Sukeroku
kills him.

This risky explanation produced a cold sweat on the Japanese side.

The play’s essential theme of a vendetta does not appear during the action,
so mention of it was cautiously omitted. But the description of the Yoshi-
wara brothel district as a special democratic world open to all classes re-
quired considerable guts on the Japanese side.
If CI&E had rebutted them and said, “Irresponsible explanations will
not stand. The Yoshiwara is a brothel district and the prostitutes in it defy
the rule which forbids plays in which women are exploited and treated
subserviently,” what explanation could Sh
chiku have offered? Fortunately,
this did not happen. Sh
chiku handled the situation smoothly and its strat-
egy succeeded. CI&E seems to have responded, “We understand. It’s dem-
ocratic, so it’s good. Staging it is okay.”
In its original form, the play best known as Sakanaya S
gor
is a three-
act domestic drama.

CI&E: What’s this play about?

 The woman called Otsuta is loved by a lord, but she is victim-
ized by his retainer and accused unjustly of a crime for which the lord
executes her and throws her down a well at his mansion. When her
brother, S
gor
, finds out, he’s mortified. He gulps down the sake that
he’s sworn off and attacks the lord’s mansion.

CI&E: The first half, in which Otsuta is killed, is no good because it is

about the abuse of women. But the angry assault by the citizen S
gor

on the samurai mansion in order to punish a fault of the privileged
class is acceptable. There’s no objection to staging only the Sakanaya
S
gor
portion of this three-act play.

Go Taiheiki Shiroishi Banashi is the story of how two sisters—one a pop-

ular courtesan—seek vengeance on the evil deputy who killed their father.
Of course, it was on Sh
chiku’s “bad” list. Note again the substitutions of
waitress for courtesan or prostitute and café for brothel.

 The sister Miyagino is the number-one waitress at Yoshi-

wara’s Daikokuya café. Her sister, Onobu, who lives in Shiroishi Village,
in sh, comes to visit her and tells her that a wicked official killed
their father. There’s great interest in the contrast between the polished
62 Kabuki Censorship Begins

older sister and the younger sister, with her country bumpkin dialect,
and in the lamentable story of Onobu, who is sad at having been left
all alone. The pair later pool their resources and get even with the
official.

CI&E: It’s terrible that this upper-class official killed the girls’ father, a
farmer, merely because of a minor infraction. Also, by joining to take
revenge, they enhance their eligibility as potential brides. You can do
this play.

Kawatake considered the approval of this play unusual because it had

been on Sh
chiku’s list of plays not considered passable. But as the ques-
tioning about it proceeded, its revenge theme came to seem increasingly
acceptable. A handful of other plays about which Sh
chiku had doubts
were also approved.
As can be seen, CI&E’s basis for granting permission was rather vague.
And it has to be admitted that the censors, Boruff included, were rather
haphazard in their duties. This was, of course, only natural. The CI&E offi-
cials, never having seen kabuki even once, had to run into trouble when
examining its contents. This was not the same as the task facing film
censors, who had much more familiarity with that medium. It was, from the
start, an impossible task to decide whether a play could be staged. The
censors swallowed Sh
chiku’s explanations hook, line, and sinker, so what
could they do but confuse principled denials with temperate approvals?
Earle Ernst, who was present at the CI&E negotiations, later wrote
that none of the theatre censors had been given specific training for
their job. While they had “a limited knowledge of the Japanese language,”
gained from their army intelligence training, they “possessed no knowl-
edge of Japanese culture or history other than that privately acquired.”
Although some censors had read about Japanese theatre in English-language
publications, “no one at first engaged in these activities had ever seen
the performance of a Japanese play before the conclusion of the war. . . .
The censors, being Americans, presumably knew what democracy was
and therefore were capable of spotting and suppressing plays which were
undemocratic.”35
Mrs. Vaccari, the interpreter, fulfilled a very important role. This
fortyish woman was familiar with kabuki and once had studied giday, a
style of narrative chanting used by kabuki but created by the puppet
theatre. She and her husband, Oreste, were responsible for writing a large
number of Japanese-language textbooks for foreigners. Mrs. Vaccari favored
the Sh
chiku side and made its explanations of dramatic contents as palat-
 Kabuki Censorship Begins 63

able as possible for CI&E. Kawatake Shigetoshi, who was grateful for her
presence, observed that, though born in Japan, she was a presumably
wealthy Italian, a frequent kabuki-goer who knew the plots well, and a
very good interpreter.
The talks lasted four days with the result being that twenty-five plays
Sh
chiku originally had listed as “bad”—such as Go Taiheiki—were allowed;
on the other hand, five that Sh
chiku thought were “good” were not
allowed. In total, 174 plays were allowed. According to the CI&E report,
two-thirds of the five hundred plays in the potential repertory—today’s
active classical repertory is less than 300 works—were banned.
CI&E’s basis for approval or denial may have been muddy but, to a
degree, it hewed to a certain line. For example, while, in principle, plays
about ordinary thieves were forbidden, those about “chivalrous robbers”
(shiranami) were passed. One such allowed play was Nezumi Koz
. Not all
plays showing belly-cutting suicide (seppuku) were prohibited, but those
that showed it as ennobling were frowned on. Naturally, vendetta plays
like Chshingura, which the censors considered Japan’s potentially most
dangerous play, were banned. The killing of women was not acceptable,
but plays—such as Go Taiheiki—in which women carried out vendettas
were allowed. Furthermore, imperialistic or hawkish historical figures,
such as Kusunoki Masashige, H
j
Tokimune, Oda Nobunaga, Toyotomi
Hideyoshi, and Tokugawa Ieyasu were absolutely forbidden.
Kawatake cites a number of specific plays and their treatment. Shiba-
raku, about a superhero who protects the weak from the overbearing threats
of an evil prince, passed easily. The play commonly known as Omatsuri
Sashichi has a scene in which her lover, Sashichi, kills the geisha Koito, so
the Americans wanted to know for whom the audience felt sympathy,
Koito or Sashichi. When told that everyone sympathized with Koito, the
play was permitted. Plays such as Awa no Naruto, Meiboku Sendai Hagi, and
the “Terakoya” scene, in which children are slain, were strictly forbidden,
as were works advocating feudal loyalty, including the representative
Chshingura and Hiragana Seisuiki, “Kumagai Jinya,” and “Moritsuna Jinya.”
Much of Senbon Zakura fell under the same shadow, although its less con-
troversial scenes, such as the travel-dance (michiyuki) and the Kawatsura
Mansion scene were acceptable. Also banned was Suzugamori, in which a
samurai slays a band of low-class palanquin bearers, even though these
men are wicked rascals and the tone of the slaughter is comic. No leniency
was shown toward Sessh Gapp
ga Tsuji and Yaguchi no Watashi, in which
women are slain. However, Keyamura was acceptable because of the posi-
tive action of its valiant heroine, Osono. There also were no restrictions on
64 Kabuki Censorship Begins

the well-known dramas Kawasho, Katsuragawa, Ninokuchi Mura, and Shinj

Y
i Goshin. Kabuki’s only example of a play about the people standing up
for their rights, Sakura Giminden, passed easily, the Occupation authorities
even wondering why more plays did not show the masses acting in con-
cert, which would have made such plays acceptable.
Kabuki’s most popular dance-drama, Kanjinch
, was first allowed but
later disallowed.36 Only nine history plays were acceptable, these being the
“Akoya no Kotozeme” scene from Dan no Ura Kabuto Gunki; Chj
-hime;
Goto Sanbas
(also known as Yoshitsune Koshigoej
); the “Hikimado” scene of
Futatsu Ch
ch
Kuruwa Nikki; the “Ranpei Monogurui” scene of Yamatogana
Ariwara Keizu; Takatoki; Senbon Zakura; Shin Usuyuki Monogatari; and Sanmon
Gosan no Kiri.
Kawatake, with a dash of irony, wrote, “There was a tendency to ap-
prove everything disallowed by the wartime police.” A few years earlier,
Ernst had noted, “The censors were aware that certain plays had been for-
bidden performance by the government during the war, and it seemed
likely these might be suitable for performance under the Occupation.”37
During the talks, Boruff made a statement to Sh
chiku that was in
the nature of a mixed blessing. First, the good part: “We are not attempt-
ing to recklessly destroy Japan’s traditional culture. . . . We must have you
oversee the current state of affairs and exercise self-discipline, and, per-
haps, in four or five years kabuki will be cleared of proscriptions. When the
time is right, everything will be released for production.”38
Kawatake immediately took him up on this: “We truly want this to
happen. I want everyone here to remember well what Capt. Boruff has
just said.” Then came the bad part. As the next words left Boruff’s mouth,
a shiver of fear ran through Sh
chiku’s people and their tongues froze:
“By the way, there are just too many problems with kabuki, so how about
closing it down entirely for four or five years?”39 Perhaps this was the
second half of the equation whose first half was, in four or five years, kabuki
will probably be cleared of proscriptions. When the time is right, everything
will be released for production. What Boruff really meant was, why not
exercise self-discipline, stop all production now, and wait until then?
The Sh
chiku side found its tongue again. “That’s impossible. If kabuki
closes for five years, you can kiss it goodbye. You can’t make an art like
kabuki overnight. Five years without kabuki means that kabuki is dead.”
“Kabuki’s actors will scatter here and there and they’ll never be able to stay
on top of their art. We will exercise full self-discipline, so we beg you, please
forget such ideas.”40 In another version of his essay, Kawatake wrote that
Boruff replied:
 Kabuki Censorship Begins 65

Then let’s not make it a problem. We have come up with a list that
allows 10 percent or more of the plays that Sh
chiku said were unpro-
ducible. At any rate, I think this kind of control will disappear in three
years, so we’d like you to cooperate with us.41

Fortunately, CI&E did not press the issue of a multiyear cessation.

When one considers kabuki’s unique art and tradition, shutting it down for
half a decade, as Boruff had suggested, would surely have been deadly.
Kabuki was a hair’s breadth away from catastrophe.
How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki
As noted in Chapter 4, the examination of kabuki plays by GHQ’s Civil
Information and Education Section (CI&E)—known before September 22
as the Information Dissemination Section—and Sh
chiku during the four
days from December 4 through 7, 1945, resulted in 174 plays being given
the green light. Since no more than about one-third of the approximately
500 plays examined were permitted, this was an ominous moment for Sh

chiku and its actors. Still, their reception by the censors, such as Capt. John
Boruff, was gentlemanly and polite and temporarily put the company at
ease. A mere month later, however, Boruff finished his work, returned to
the United States, and the wind suddenly shifted.
Boruff was succeeded by Lt. Hal Keith, who, unlike Boruff, was ag-
gressive and overbearing.1 According to Kawatake Shigetoshi’s previously
cited 1961 Engekikai essay, on January 10, 1946, Sh
chiku gave a farewell
party for Boruff at the Sakae-ya, a fashionable restaurant near the Shin-
bashi Enbuj
.2 Boruff’s successor, Keith, was also present, while Sh
chiku
was represented by its president, tani Takejir
 The seven members of the
Association for the Examination of Entertainment and Culture—assigned
to examine the Occupation performing arts and culture—as well as Mrs.
Vaccari, the interpreter, also attended. Sashimi and sake, both very hard to
come by in those early postwar days, were served, all having been obtained
from the black market.
According to Kawatake, Boruff, after knocking back one cup of sake
after another, rose to say:

66
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 67

Up to now, I’ve plowed through GHQ criticisms and have saved kabuki.
But that’s as far as I can go. A list of permissible plays has been created,
but if possible I’d like to have you avoid producing classic works. Of
the plays you’ve produced so far, 30 percent have been modern dramas,
but I’d like to see this increased to 50 percent, or half your output. It
will be embarrassing for me if you don’t.3

It was a heavy enough burden for Sh
chiku to produce modern plays

as one-third of its repertory; splitting its productions fifty-fifty was simply
out of the question. There was no way that modern plays could draw
audiences the way that classical ones did. When Sh
chiku began to object,
Mrs. Vaccari interrupted to remind them, in Japanese, that CI&E was in-
flexible, that Boruff’s position was being vacated, and that his successor,
Lt. Keith, was present. Sh
chiku clammed up tight.
Quiet settled over the place. Someone sang the lyrics as Atsumi Seitar

played the “Koi no Tenarai” (Practicing Love’s Penmanship) section from
the kabuki dance Musume D
j
ji on the shamisen.
Boruff’s farewell party marked the end of good relations between
GHQ and Sh
chiku. The next day, January 11, Sh
chiku’s management was
ordered to report to CI&E at 11:00 A.M. When three members of the script
department went to find out what was happening, they were met by Keith
and three or four other censors, Earle Ernst among them. Keith spoke to
them harshly:

Kabuki is completely feudal and flies in the face of today’s democratiza-

tion. Sh
chiku’s kabuki performances contradict Articles 6 and 10 of the
Potsdam Declaration, but they are recognized as traditional art and
have received special permission. From now on, you are to produce 50
percent or more modern dramas and encourage democratization. If you
don’t do this, all kabuki performance will be forbidden.4

One of Sh
chiku’s script department officials later complained to

Kawatake that the Boruff farewell party had had the opposite effect of what
was intended. For one thing, the splashy reception for GHQ (with black
market food) led to ill feelings among the Japanese. Also, while Atsumi’s
shamisen playing had brightened the party, the censors appear to have
regarded it as evidence that the Japanese were proselytizing for kabuki.
And, most of all, it was not considered wise to have had tani Takejir
,
president of Sh
chiku, there. That is to say, Sh
chiku and T
h
, as the
greatest film and theatre entertainment conglomerates, were at the top of
the list of companies that were to be eliminated or dismantled—“purged”
68 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

in GHQ parlance—because of their monopolies. Later, in fact, tani received

an unofficial notice that he was indeed purged. He petitioned GHQ and
was excused by special dispensation.
Let us look at Articles 6 and 10 of the Potsdam Declaration. Article 6
declares:

There must be eliminated for all time the authority and influence of
those who have deceived and misled the people of Japan into embark-
ing on world conquest, for we insist that a new order of peace, security
and justice will be impossible until irresponsible militarism is driven
from the world.5

The last two sentences of Article 10 state:

The Japanese government shall remove all obstacles to the revival and
strengthening of democratic tendencies among the Japanese people.
Freedom of speech, of religion, and of thought, as well as respect for
the fundamental human rights shall be established.6

Keith was saying that kabuki extolled militarism and was an obstacle
to the establishment of democratization.
Ten days after Keith delivered his ultimatum, the situation became
public. The general news page of the T
ky
Shinbun for January 20 carried
the headline “KABUKI TO BE ABOLISHED: HEREAFTER, ONLY DANCE TO
BE PERFORMED” with the following statements:

Kabuki, proud of its traditions, is soon to lose completely its history

and domestic plays, as well as the works of writers like [Kawatake]
Mokuami. Sh
chiku, in keeping with the expectation of the new age
that democratization will be established, has been engaged in a study
of kabuki’s future position in a democratic society. The contents of his-
tory dramas are feudalistic and far removed from present day social
conditions and, apart from their classical significance, have no perfor-
mance value. From this perspective previous policies will be abandoned
and kabuki will hereafter focus only on dances and modern dramas ap-
propriate to the new age. At present, basic preparations are under way
to revise production practices along these lines.
Mr. Sat
, head of the Sh
chiku Theatre Division, commented: “It
was decided that kabuki henceforth would be proscribed, but some
dances, although they are kabuki, will be performed. We want to con-
tribute to the development of every play.” 7

This article sent shock waves everywhere, not only through the
theatre world. Japan took great pride in the 350-year history of its classical
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 69

theatre, kabuki, which female shrine dancer Izumo no Okuni had origi-
nated at the start of the seventeenth century and which had repeatedly
battled oppression during the Tokugawa period. If, now, most of its plays
were to be abandoned, it could only mean the death of an invaluable
aspect of Japanese culture. The situation was grave, to say the least.
The unexpected response to the article surprised GHQ, which quickly
tried to deal with the situation. Three days after the T
ky
Shinbun article
was published, on January 23, the Asahi Shinbun printed an article head-
lined “KABUKI NOT TO BE ABOLISHED,” which stated:

Sh
chiku’s voluntary explanation that kabuki’s richly colored feudal-

ism is not in keeping with the trend of democratization, and Sh
chiku’s
statement that, apart from dance, its policy would be to produce no
other kabuki has caused a major stir in the theatre world. On January
22, Sh
chiku revised its position to say it would not abolish kabuki and
that its subsequent productions would consist of 50 percent made up
of allowable plays from the past, including newer pieces (shin kabuki),
and that the policy for the other 50 percent would be to stage modern
dramas rebuking militaristic ideas.8

The article went on to quote Managing Director Takahashi, one of

the most powerful Sh
chiku figures:

Because of my deficient words, an impression was given that kabuki

would die, but Sh
chiku has no intention of killing kabuki outright. I
meant to say that, since we have been told that it is not possible to
mount the greater part of kabuki, such as history plays, we have de-
cided to produce the smaller part remaining, including many still pro-
ducible plays by Mokuami. The February schedule for the T
ky
Gekij

is Takiguchi Ny
d no Koi, a history drama with samurai-class characters
that also uses kabuki methods.9

A separate article, with the headline “NO TRUTH TO OPPRESSION

DECLARES GHQ,” reported the following:

Sh
chiku has said that on January 22 it revised its plans relative to the
kabuki problem that has created such a furor, but here are the words of
a GHQ spokesman who spoke about the problem to a reporter on the
same day. . . .
GHQ is absolutely not putting pressure on the producers to stop
kabuki. There is no basis whatsoever to the rumor that, apart from
dance, all kabuki has been prohibited by GHQ. The truth is that Sh

chiku, in response to GHQ’s desire for the democratization of drama,
70 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

voluntarily examined all plays for elements harmful to democra-

tization. GHQ then requested that a list be presented of all plays
deemed in keeping with democratization and all plays deemed harm-
ful to it. . . . GHQ had sixteen hours of discussion with Sh
chiku per-
sonnel and both sides came up with a revised list of suitable plays.
The result was that the number of acceptable plays was consider-
ably enlarged and the final list contained 196 [sic] such plays while
322 were considered inappropriate. It is not the position of GHQ to
destroy Japanese art but merely to encourage the democratization
of theatre.10

MacArthur’s unnamed spokesman went out of his way to speak to

the press and to insist that there was no intention of destroying Japanese
art and to show a great social concern in the face of the “KABUKI TO BE
ABOLISHED” article. And in February, Sh
chiku president tani Takejir

wrote a piece in Engekikai stressing that Sh
chiku had no intention of aban-
doning kabuki and explaining that whatever had been reported was all a
mistake. He even noted Sh
chiku’s plans to rebuild the destroyed Kabuki-za,
a subject that journalists, calling it the national theatre (kokuritsu gekij
),
already had begun bruiting about in 1945.11
Takiguchi Nyd
no Koi, the play performed at the T
ky
Gekij

(T
geki) in February 1946, was a new play by Funabashi Seiichi, produced
as per GHQ’s request. It starred kabuki actor Ichikawa Ennosuke II (later
Ichikawa En’o) and the great shinpa actress Mizutani Yaeko, and their kiss-
ing scene drew considerable criticism.12 Despite its use of certain kabuki con-
ventions, it is not a kabuki play. The play’s dramaturgy was universally
panned; only its then daring eroticism was considered innovative. Never-
theless, Keith was completely delighted and commanded that it run an-
other month, even though attendance lagged. The program actually con-
tained six numbers, two of them old but not especially significant kabuki
dances. Takiguchi’s success inspired the playwright to write a succession of
similar works, such as the one performed at the T
geki in April, again star-
ring Ennosuke and Mizutani and again presenting a vivid love scene. These
plays gave rise to the term keik
kabuki (tendency kabuki), suggesting the
new but critically sneered at emphasis on the erotic that kabuki seemed to
be employing. In fact, the character for sei—meaning “saint” or “sacred”—
in Seiichi, the playwright’s name, was often parodied by being written with
the homonymous character for sex.
Faubion Bowers, who up to now had been busy with his official duties
and had not participated in any of GHQ’s censorship activities, first began
to get involved after being appalled by the “KABUKI TO BE ABOLISHED”
article. He immediately called a press conference at GHQ. As MacArthur’s
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 71

aide-de-camp, he had no jurisdiction over its kabuki policies, but his posi-
tion carried enormous prestige, even when he overstepped his authority.
In his 1960 oral history interview, he said:

I was pained and I was scandalized to see that “the Japanese,” so to

speak, had banned this great 350-year-old classic art, this jewel of cul-
ture in the country, where many of the plays were full of democratic
values, they’re full of otokodate, chivalrous commoners like Sukeroku
who defeat the nobles, who defeat the samurai. It’s a popular theatre,
it’s a theatre of the people, and in plays like Kumagai Jinya, a great
general sacrifices his own son for the sake of his lord. True enough,
that’s feudal. But he is so horrified at this that he renounces the world,
he shaves his head, and he becomes a priest. . . . That is his protest
against the bushido system. What more do you want? You can’t wipe
out a classic like that. Kumagai Jinya is what Hamlet is to England. You
don’t wipe it out because there are values in it, you know.13

GHQ’s censors were furious with Bowers. They wanted him to mind
his own business and not interfere in their job. Bowers’s unease about
kabuki’s future did not come to rest with this incident. About a month later,
on February 23, a lengthy article appeared in the T
ky
Shinbun. The head-
line read “A SHAMEFULLY SUICIDAL STEP: WHAT BOWERS SAYS ABOUT
KABUKI’S SITUATION.” Accompanying the article was a picture of Bowers
to which the following brief biographical caption was affixed:

Born in Oklahoma, 29-years-old. Studied music at Columbia University,

being especially skilled at the piano. A fan of the Russian composer
Scriabin, he has written a study of him. Visited Europe after graduating,
toured France giving musical performances, then, falling under the spell
of Javanese gamelan music in 1940, thought of traveling there. On the
way, though, he arrived in Japan, fell in love with kabuki, and became
absorbed with it. In September 1941 he was drafted into the Army and
served in New Guinea, Australia, and the Philippines. He returned to
Japan last year on September 29 [sic] and now holds the important posi-
tion of Military Secretary [sic] to the Supreme Commander.14

In the article, Bowers cautioned the reader that the feelings he ex-
pressed about kabuki “are my personal ideas”:

I am not speaking now as the spokesman for General MacArthur, just

as someone who loves kabuki, and my ideas do not represent GHQ
policies.
Before the war, when I visited Japan, I was so powerfully en-
72 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

thralled by kabuki that I stretched a planned thirteen-day stay into a

year. Thus I was astounded to read in the newspaper that history plays,
domestic plays, Mokuami plays, and so on, were going to be removed
from the stage as of February 1.15
When I investigated this at GHQ, I was told that Sh
chiku had
voluntarily forbidden these plays. Since GHQ had not forbidden these
plays, I had the hardest time figuring out why the Japanese were de-
livering such a lethal blow to this great, unique theatrical art form. . . . 16
America is a democratic nation, without kings and queens, but it
keeps producing Shakespeare plays about feudalistic rulers, and it still
performs Wagner’s operas, despite a war with Germany, whose myths
and ideology were a source of inspiration for the Nazi leaders.
When all is said and done, art is art. Kabuki’s greatness lies in its
being above political or feudal tendencies. There are many difficulties
involved in explaining kabuki’s beauty. I have always been fascinated
by theatre, but the Western stage is a reflection of everyday reality and
has few artistic qualities to boast about. In contrast, kabuki surpasses
everyday life and its stage achieves a grand artistic height. That is why
I am so drawn to kabuki. . . .
We must not forget that kabuki was created for the masses—the
common man—as a “people’s theatre. . . .” The prohibition of domestic
dramas will bury Mokuami’s Naozamurai, the greatest love story. In
1941 I saw Kataoka Nizaemon XIII play Michitose and Ichimura Uzae-
mon XV play Naozamurai twenty-five times. Furthermore, Sukeroku
shows the commoners’ hatred for the samurai Iky. The play symbol-
izes the antifeudal government feelings.
“Kumagai Jinya” is antimilitarist through and through. This is
the story of a great general who saves the life of an enemy soldier and
then, realizing the idiocy of war, devotes his life to religion. . . .
If Sh
chiku actually has banned these and hundreds of other
plays, this means the death of a great, great art, and should truly be
lamented. . . . The elements of kabuki techniques lie deep within its tra-
ditions. The difficult skills of kabuki acting have required that they be
presented to the public after being passed down from generation to
generation and polished in the course of continuous performance. Any
interruption to the continuity of acting tradition is a mortal blow to the
future.
When I arrived in Japan last year . . . to serve as an interpreter for
the Allied advance party . . . my first question was about Uzaemon.
When I heard of his sad passing I couldn’t help the painful feeling that
the last of the great Edo period [sic] actors had finally said farewell. . . .
[Nakamura] Ganjir
II, whom I met once, said, when I praised
his acting, “I won’t be able to achieve my acting goal until I’m sixty.”
This single sentence sums up how a kabuki actor must go on patiently
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 73

polishing his craft, no matter how long it takes. Art, especially kabuki,
must be produced continuously.
I think it is tragic that K
raiya [Matsumoto K
shir
VII], Hari-
maya [Nakamura Kichiemon I], and Rokudaime [Onoe Kikugor
VI]
will not appear this month. And apart from a few dances, as long as
Sh
chiku goes on forbidding production, these plays likely will never
again see the light of day.17

It has to be the greatest good luck, not only for kabuki people but for
all Japanese, that, purely by chance, MacArthur’s aide turned out to be a
kabuki lover who was in a position whereby he could greatly influence
Occupation policy. With this article, the adverse winds blowing against
kabuki shifted to helpful tail winds.
In his discussion of kabuki’s superrealism, what did Bowers mean by
saying, “The Western stage is a reflection of everyday reality and has few
artistic qualities to boast about. In contrast, kabuki surpasses everyday life
and its stage achieves a certain artistic height”? Hamlet speaks about the
theatre “holding the mirror up to nature.” Western drama cautions against
exaggerated or unnatural acting and attempts, as far as possible, to re-
create reality on stage. Kabuki is the exact opposite. Although the plays’
contents reflect their times realistically, the manner in which they are
presented is unrealistic. It is founded on a stylized beauty in which reality
is transformed. From its striped red-on-white makeup (kumadori), repre-
senting righteousness and strength, to its blue-lined makeup (aiguma),
symbolizing evil, to its exaggerated speech and various kinds of theatrical
behavior culminating in striking poses (mie), kabuki brims with stylized
patterns (kata).
In Kabuki Biron (About Kabuki Beauty), Kawatake Toshio reprints the
comments of two foreign newspaper critics during kabuki’s tours abroad.
Brooks Atkinson, writing in the New York Times in 1960, noted that “ ‘Pre-
sentation’ is the key word to distinguish Kabuki from the Western theatre
of ‘representation.’ ” By presentation he means the many ways in which
artistry is revealed through expressive means. The critic for Munich’s Abend
Zeitung in 1972 called kabuki’s method “stylized naturalism.”18
In a sense, one can say that kabuki is realistic. Kabuki has always ab-
sorbed new ideas using realistic expression. It took risk upon risk while
being forced by the Edo period authorities to undergo constant change. As
the etymology of the word kabuki suggests—it comes from a verb meaning
“off center,” “to incline”—it has always had a progressive tendency to lean
toward the new.
But kabuki’s naturalism is not the same as the West’s. No matter how
74 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

illusionistic certain scenes may at first sight appear to be, what is per-
formed is not a faithful representation of reality but, surely, the existence
in reality of stylized beauty. The great dramatist Chikamatsu Monzaemon
(1653–1725) wrote that theatrical art lies in the frontier between the real
and unreal, the true and the false.19 Kabuki’s art is certainly not “realism”
in the original sense, but the actor, who is kabuki’s foundation, must have
realism in his heart. The mystery of this art is in its “seeming truthful-
ness.”20 Kawatake Toshio noted:

There should be a contradiction between the concepts of stylization

and naturalism, that is to say, realism. In the West, at least, these ideas
are polar opposites, while other Eastern nations tend toward pure styl-
ization. But these opposites coexist in Japan’s performing arts.21

Kabuki’s stylized beauty has been called “pictorial beauty.” From the
actors’ makeup and costume to movement, props, scenery, and lighting,
no other world theatre is so particular about its sense of beauty. Beauty is
pursued in the exaggeratory style called aragoto, the gentle style of male
lovers called wagoto, the playing of female roles by male specialists called
onnagata, and in every kind of behavior, even in scenes of murder, rape,
and torture. In fact, Bowers called a 1981 documentary he wrote and pro-
duced The Cruelty of Beauty, and Japanese critics often refer to kabuki’s “aes-
thetic of cruelty” (zankoku no bi).
To take one small example, during Act V of Chshingura, we see the
handsome young villain Sadakur
. The scene occurs on a country road in
the dark of night, the principal background being an authentic-looking
haystack. A moment after Sadakur
emerges from within the haystack, a
rifle shot rings out and hits him. Bright red blood spurts from his mouth
and he falls in a heap. On the surface, this sounds very realistic, and, in
essence, it is. Examining the action more closely, we see that Sadakur
’s
erotic attractiveness is enhanced by his black kimono, which is raised to
reveal startlingly white legs and unshod feet. His face and the rest of his
body are also painted dead white, and details of his face are heightened by
exquisitely drawn eyebrow, eye, and mouth lines and framed by a glossy
black wig with the crown hair grown in. The impression made by his black
costume on the night-blackened stage emphasizes the vivid whiteness of
his face and limbs. When he is shot, the blood drips out of his mouth in
such a way that it splatters on his exposed right thigh, the contrast of red
on white being both chilling and beautiful. The manner in which he gropes
the air for support before falling in a gracefully twisting movement sug-
gests a moment of choreography sublimated in the depiction of a believ-
ably wounded man.
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 75

In order for style and pattern (kata) to become truthful, kabuki actors
require long years of rigorous training. When I interviewed octogenarian
Nakamura Matagor
II, he surprised me by saying, “I can still turn a somer-
sault.” Kabuki somersaults (tonbo) require the performer to do a complete
flip in the air. Matagor
, despite his age, has a body that, because of his
youthful training, is still flexible and strong.
If Western drama is based on text, that is, dramatic quality, kabuki is
created out of the actor’s flesh. His body produces beauty. As Ikenami Sh

tar
explained in Chapter 4, “Kabuki’s tradition is the art of kabuki’s actors.
Kabuki plays are not traditional. The actor’s art is traditional.”22

h,H
Bowers’s T
ky
Shinbun comments spread like wildfire through the kabuki
world. To the actors, experiencing the potential winter of their art, the
words of MacArthur’s aide-de-camp were like a warm gust of wind. There
is an old saying in Japan: “Even the harshest brushfire does not burn an
entire field. Once a spring wind blows, new buds sprout.” One of the signal
effects of his article was to create undying friendships for Bowers with
kabuki’s greatest actors.
A few days after his article was published, Bowers, as usual, was work-
ing in his office next door to SCAP. An MP entered carrying a scrap of paper
saying, “Onoe-K, Onoe-S to see you.” The time, 11:45 A.M., was noted.
Onoe Kikunosuke was the adopted son of Kikugor
VI and, a year later
(1947), would become Onoe Baik
VII. Bowers had no acquaintance with
any kabuki actors, nor—except in passing, to Ganjir
II—had he ever spoken
to one. He was astonished by the visit. He told the MP, “Of course, show
them in, show them in.” When they were led into Bowers’s office, the ad-
mittedly starstruck Bowers could not believe his eyes. The actors thanked
him profusely for his article. (He says that Sh
roku always remembered it
differently, claiming that Bowers himself, in full uniform, came backstage
at the T
geki.)
Sh
roku was then thirty-three, four years older than Bowers, and
Baik
-to-be was thirty-one. Both have since passed away. The three men,
so close in age, remained good friends for life.
Bowers also befriended many other actors of the day, and one of them,
Matsumoto K
shir
VII, dubbed Bowers “H
bu,” a name compounded of
the characters for “phoenix” and “dance,” its pronunciation suggesting the
first two syllables in Faubion. It is said to convey a flavor redolent of
the kabuki world. Contemporary kabuki friends preferred to call Bowers
by this nickname, even addressing him in their letters as “H
bu-chan” or
“H
bu-sama.”
Another actor on whom Bowers’s published views had a significant
76 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

Figure 10 Matsumoto K
shir
VII. (Photograph cour-

tesy of Faubion Bowers.)

impact was the great Nakamura Kichiemon I. One day early in 1946,
Bowers, having gone to the T
geki to see a play in which Kichiemon was
starring, was recognized by someone and word of his presence spread back-
stage. During the intermission, a note was passed to him: “Please come back-
stage. Please, Kichiemon would like to see you.” Bowers later recounted,
“Well, I was absolutely bowled over. It was as if Larry Olivier would say,
‘Please come backstage, must see you.’ ”23 Kichiemon had become Bowers’s
favorite actor after the death of Uzaemon XV.
After the play, Bowers visited Kichiemon’s dressing room. The sixty-
year-old Kichiemon bowed his head: “Thank you so much for that article.
Do you realize that if kabuki is banned, I will be out of work? My entire
family, my entire troupe will be unemployed?” Bowers answered, “Well, I
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 77

think it’s an absurd thing and you Japanese oughtn’t to do a thing like
that. Go ahead and do kabuki as far as I’m concerned, as far as we Americans
are concerned.”24
Kichiemon had good reason for thanking Bowers. He was one-half of
the famous Kiku-Kichi combination, with Kikugor
VI being the outstand-
ing dancer and domestic play (sewamono) actor of the day and Kichiemon
the great history play (jidaimono) specialist. As noted earlier, the plays that
GHQ had banned were largely history plays. Kichiemon stood to suffer the
most, so one can understand how important Bowers’s existence was to him.
To skip forward, when, in July 1954, Bowers made his third trip to
Japan, Kichiemon wanted to perform for him and, although his health
was failing, he disregarded his illness and acted his great role of Kumagai
Naozane in “Kumagai Jinya.” Two months later, he died. Kichiemon’s
grandson, K
shir
IX, described the circumstances to me:

GHQ had said that plays stressing patriotism and loyalty were abso-
lutely forbidden. This especially referred to history plays, which are my
family’s specialty. You really weren’t allowed to put on plays about
“substitutions” (migawari) or loyalty and patriotism. In his later years,
grandfather actually seemed to consider Bowers as his benefactor so,
when Bowers returned to Japan, grandfather gathered his remain-
ing strength and put on “Kumagai Jinya.” He gave his life to perform it
for him.

After Bowers visited Kichiemon’s dressing room, he became close

with Kichiemon’s family, including his adopted son, K
shir
VIII (later
Haku
). He developed an especially warm friendship with Kichiemon’s
only daughter, Seiko, wife of K
shir
VIII and mother of K
shir
IX and
Kichiemon II. Bowers says, “Seiko-san taught me everything about kabuki.”
Their personal correspondence lasted for many years, and her letters often
brim with her feelings of gratitude for Bowers’s efforts. To Seiko and her
family, he was truly “the man who saved kabuki.”

h,H
In the spring of 1946, Bowers had a number of discussions with Kawatake
Shigetoshi. They discussed various kabuki matters, including problems re-
lated to the censorship of Kanjinch
, which is discussed later in this chapter.
Bowers also appears to have asked the kabuki scholar for details of the
conferences with CI&E at which Kawatake had been one of those repre-
senting Sh
chiku in deciding on producible and not producible plays. In
his oral history, Bowers declared:
78 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

Because of the pressure of two opposing announcements [Bowers’s

and CI&E’s], the ban was put in abeyance, and rather forgotten. And
then, the truth of the matter became known to me, because then the
Kabuki circle . . . rallied to me because they had a strong voice of pro-
tection, they felt. So it was Ernst and Keith banning this thing, not
allowing the great masterpieces to be put on.25

Prior to his meetings with Kawatake, Bowers had not known about
Boruff’s receptivity, Keith’s ideas and attitudes, and so on. CI&E’s attitude
toward kabuki was far more severe than he had imagined and the outlook
was anything but promising.
Bowers now felt he had to do something to help kabuki. He thought
of three methods. One was to appeal directly to Gen. MacArthur; the second
was to set up a special day for presenting kabuki to GHQ personnel; and
the third was to hold occasional parties, inviting censors and kabuki actors,
so they could get to know one another better.
One day, Bowers asked MacArthur, whom he considered “a cultural
barbarian,” “General, Sir, did you ever see kabuki when you were here
before?” He said, “Oh yes.” In January 1937, when he was military aide to
Quezon, president of the Philippines, he and Quezon stopped in Tokyo en
route to the United States and paid a visit to kabuki at the invitation of
the Foreign Ministry. MacArthur continued, “They took me to one and I
couldn’t make any sense of it.”
Persisting, Bowers stated, “Well, you know, they banned it, and that’s
very unwise. It’s a classical thing.” MacArthur abruptly dismissed Bowers’s
remarks. “Well, if it’s right at the top, it’s right at the bottom. I can’t
interfere.”26
Here again was MacArthur’s military philosophy: “If it’s right at the
top, it’s right at the bottom.” In this context it implied, “I’m now SCAP and
I don’t make mistakes. So I believe that everyone working under me is
also correct.” Bowers testified that once MacArthur had put his trust in
those who worked for him, he refused to ever meddle or interfere with
them. He entrusted command and administration to his underlings, which
Bowers said made it very easy to work for him. It also meant that Bowers
would have to rely on himself, not SCAP, to accomplish his goals.

h,H
In regard to Bowers’s second method for helping kabuki, he saw that the
military personnel of the American Occupation Army were hungry for
entertainment. “I felt sorry for American soldiers. They had no fun except
whores, no entertainment. MacArthur had forbidden Americans from enter-
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 79

ing Japanese theatres. The soldiers had nowhere to go. Realizing this, I
showed them kabuki.” Bowers arranged for special one-day-only perfor-
mances to be given on the day following the closing of the T
geki’s
monthly bill. Bowers recalled, “The soldiers entered after the theatre inte-
rior had been sprayed three times with DDT to kill germs. They did not
have a clue about kabuki. When the actors struck mie poses, some laughed
out of ignorance. They soon got used to kabuki.”
Bowers also devised various ways of explaining kabuki to make it
more comprehensible. He used preperformance lectures to explain the
plot. “I didn’t tell the soldiers that they mustn’t laugh. I taught them what
was important in the plays.”
Of considerable help to Bowers in the three presentations he arranged
—Tsuchigumo, Momijigari, and Sessh Gapp
ga Tsuji—was Donald Richie.
Bowers met Richie when he was serving as chauffeur to a First Army
colonel. Richie was one of the first members of the Occupation to find
Japan appealing enough to remain there for the rest of his life. He became
a prolific author of books and articles on Japanese films and culture. But
when Bowers knew him, he was a staff feature writer for the Stars and
Stripes newspaper for Americans stationed in Japan.
Richie enthusiastically assisted Bowers’s furtherance of kabuki and,
on the Sunday before each kabuki performance, devoted the coveted cover
page supplement of the Stars and Stripes to a picture of and story about the
forthcoming show. This was important because it built a knowledgeable
nucleus of kabuki fans among the Occupation Army, members of which
years later would become ardent theatregoers when kabuki began making
its visits abroad. However, too much kabuki worried the pedestrian-minded
editor of Stars and Stripes, Richie’s boss. According to Bowers, the boss called
Richie into his office one day and said, “One more picture of kabuki and
you’re fired.”
Since Richie and Bowers had worked well together, Bowers was
upset on reading what he claimed was Richie’s inaccurate 1997 account of
Occupation censorship, in which Richie credits Earle Ernst over Bowers
for having liberated kabuki.27 Bowers noted certain errors in Richie’s
account, such as the wrong theatre (which, as in Chapter 4, note 20 states,
he, too, had done in print) and month in his discussion of the “Terakoya”
incident. He could offer no explanation for Richie’s statement other than
to say, “We moved in different circles. Our worlds were too far apart,
apparently.”28
The system of special performances for GHQ personnel continued for
over a year. It was at this time that Bowers’s future wife, Santha Rama
Rau, first saw kabuki. She wrote in East of Home:
80 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

The first play I saw was one of the rare performances given for the
Allied personnel, and consequently the program notes were very full.
They contained a translation of the play in English by Faubion Bowers.
. . . From the notes I learned that the leading parts [in Sessh
Gapp ga
Tsuji] were to be played by Japan’s most celebrated actors, Baigyoku
and Kichiemon.29

Rau was completely enchanted by kabuki. In her book, following a

recounting of the plot, she added:

Told like that it sounds flat and melodramatic, but on the stage, like all
great art, it has such power and beauty that the story scarcely matters.
. . . The dancing and the acting had an assurance and polish which I
had seen nowhere else in the world. I had certainly never thought of
the Japanese as a theatrically minded people.30

To have prepared translations and lectures might have been expected

of someone with Bowers’s passion, but the establishment of special perfor-
mances following the end of three different runs as a way of showing kabuki
to GHQ personnel was something no ordinary officer could have done. “I
was MacArthur’s aide. That meant power. Power. I had plenty of power,”
he acknowledged. Sh
chiku and its actors looked to him with hope.

h,H
Bowers’s third scheme to help kabuki was to hold dinner parties at his spa-
cious residence to which he would invite censorship personnel and kabuki
actors.

I determined . . . that this thing could be solved socially, that using the
prestige of being MacArthur’s ADC, this vast apartment that I had. . . . I
had all the food in the world, and the Japanese were very hungry, they
hadn’t had coffee, they hadn’t had sugar for years—so I thought that if
these youngsters in the censorship detachment were to meet the great
actors then they would come to understand. So, I used to have dinner
parties where they would meet. And since the Japanese had no cars, I
would send Mrs. MacArthur’s car to fetch them, and those meetings
went very well, because little by little these kids who had banned Kabuki
came to realize that they were dealing with a great art. But they were
firm and adamant; they would do nothing about it.31

A hint of the atmosphere at these parties can be gleaned from Utae-

mon’s autobiography: “I’d often be invited along and would eat and have
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 81

a good time. Bowers had canned goods, sweets, and various hard-to-find
foods. When Sh
roku was invited, he’d down quantities of sake and enjoy
himself. . . . He’d get really dizzy and fall down laughing.”32
The relative abundance served up at Bowers’s parties contrasted
strikingly with contemporary conditions in Tokyo, as Mark Gayn’s words
in Japan Diary reveal:

This city now is a world of scarcity in which every nail, every rag, and
even a tangerine peel has a market value. A cupful of rice, three ciga-
rettes, or four matches are all a day’s ration. Men pick every grain of
rice out of their tin lunch boxes; there are too few to be wasted. . . . On
the Ginza, once the show street of Tokyo, . . . hungry kids and young
women beg for gum and chocolate and peanuts from soldiers.33

It appears, however, that Bowers’s methods of inviting soldiers for

special performances and giving parties for those most immediately affected
were not working as well as he intended. Bowers noted, “The censors
(Ernst) let us do only two plays, Kanjinch
, produced at the T
ky
Gekij

in June 1946, and ‘Kumagai Jinya,’ seen later that year.”
The disappearance of Keith’s name at this time is thought to have
been related to the T
ky
Shinbun article about abolishing kabuki. The reac-
tion to it was so great that, as mentioned, a GHQ spokesman had to
quickly arrange a press conference to explain the matter. GHQ probably
wanted to calm the public anxiety, so the arrogant Keith faded into the
shadows and Ernst, who had been a censor from the start, came to the fore.
Ernst may not have been as oppressive as Keith, but, at the time, he
appears to have held a similarly severe attitude toward kabuki. According
to Bowers, when the “KABUKI TO BE ABOLISHED” article appeared, pre-
cipitating his arrangement of a press conference to discuss it, he began to
work behind the scenes to find the American censor and to persuade him
to rescind the proposed ban. The first step, he recalled, was easy. He looked
in the official SCAP phone book under “Civil Censorship Detachment
(CCD),” where it listed Arthur Mori as movie censor and “2nd Lieutenant
Earle Ernst” as theatre censor.
Ernst was a twenty-eight or twenty-nine-year-old theatre professor
at the University of Hawai‘i. He had been a big hit there in the role of the
cantankerous Sheridan Whiteside in Kaufman and Hart’s 1939 “comedy of
bad manners,” The Man Who Came to Dinner. Crusty, rude, and overbearing,
Whiteside suited Ernst well, thought Bowers. He had arrived in Japan
knowing nothing beyond the Japan of Hawaiian Nisei and was full of the
virulent wartime hatred engendered by Pearl Harbor. He soon became part
82 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

of the circle of homosexual American soldiers who were fond of Japanese

men. Bowers, who openly admitted his own homosexuality, noted that
the gay world of the Occupation was “a curiously rough one” and that
Ernst and his “tough-guy lover . . . seemed to enjoy having periodic fights
that came to blows.” As the “number one censor,” recounted Bowers,
Ernst thought that “kabuki was cruel, so it was bad; it was frightening, so it
was bad; everything was bad.” 34
Bowers, of course, invited Ernst to his embassy parties. “He got to meet
Kichiemon, K
shir
, Kikugor
, everyone. Earle was at his Whitesidish
worst, barely tolerant of the aged actors who were three times his age and
light-years ahead of him in elegance. Whenever I asked him in front of the
actors why censorship of kabuki, he would testily reply, ‘We must democra-
tize Japan. Ring out the old; ring in the new,’ which he believed at the
time but not later. So it was useless. No matter how much I humored him,
Ernst wouldn’t say okay to kabuki.” Nevertheless, it was Ernst who gave
the permission to produce Kanjinch
and “Kumagai Jinya.” It is touching
how much effort Bowers put into obtaining this permission. Bowers and the
actors gave Ernst numerous blandishments, including gifts and backstage
visits.
Kanjinch
is the story of how Minamoto Yoshitsune, pursued by his
shogun brother, Minamoto Yoritomo, passes through a guarded barrier gate.
Yoshitsune is disguised as a porter, and his faithful retainer, Benkei, is
dressed as mountain ascetic (yamabushi), as are four other retainers. The
band is seeking to flee to the north to take refuge with the Fujiwara family.
Yoritomo orders strict inquiries to be made at the barrier gate. Togashi Sae-
mon, in command of the barrier gate at Ataka, Kaga province, realizes that
Yoshitsune is with this band of mountain ascetics. But Togashi is over-
whelmed by Benkei’s cleverness and death-defying loyalty and he lets the
band pass through.
The heart of the play, of course, is Benkei’s loyalty and the emotional
weight of Togashi’s feelings and subsequent disloyalty to his master in
letting the party proceed.
As mentioned earlier, Bowers, seeking to end the ban on Kanjinch
,
and searching for a way to break through Ernst’s resistance, discussed the
problem with Kawatake Shigetoshi at Waseda University in the early spring
of 1946. According to Kawatake, Bowers explained:

when you focus only on Benkei’s loyalty, the play is only about faith-
fulness to the feudal code, but when you consider Togashi, you can
interpret him as an ambivalent samurai who betrays Yoritomo’s orders,
and who is torn between personal emotion and duty. He asked me my
opinion of this view and I said that it was one way of looking at it.35
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 83

Bowers later acknowledged the great assistance he had been given by

Professor Kawatake. “I went to him because I wanted his advice. Was I
wrong? Was I right? I had no idea. I was a foreigner. I couldn’t trust my-
self; I was young. Kabuki was a rarefied world. So, I asked the professor,
‘Am I right? What do you think?’ The professor said, ‘It’s okay; you’re cor-
rect.’ Well, now I could do it with his backing.”
Bowers went out of his way to convince Ernst of his interpretation
regarding Togashi’s ambivalence. A full lineup of leading actors was present
at the party at which Ernst was finally persuaded. The late Baik
VII re-
called: “Danjr
[XI], Sh
roku, K
shir
[VII], I, and Narikomaya [Naka-
mura Utaemon VI] were invited to Bowers’s rooms to explain [the play] to
Ernst and he finally said, ‘Okay.’ ”36 Bowers added that Ernst remarked
to him, “You know I am stubborn, but my virtue is that I am capable of
changing my mind.”
Bowers continued to interpret Togashi as an ambivalent, disloyal
samurai. He insisted that “After Togashi lets Benkei and Yoshitsune escape,
he kills himself, no question about it. Not on stage, but it’s in his face.”
Togashi takes full responsibility for his master’s orders by disemboweling
himself. “I didn’t tell this to Ernst, though. If I did, it would have been
awful. He wouldn’t have given his okay. So I tricked him.” If, after all his
efforts to explain Togashi’s disloyalty, Bowers had said that Togashi repented
his actions by committing seppuku, their discussions would have returned
to square one and such a statement would have made Togashi appear to be
a deeply loyal samurai subject to his master’s orders.
Bowers also acknowledged that he shared Togashi’s ambivalence. “I
opposed Occupation policies. I, too, was an ‘ambivalent person’ [futamata
mono]. On the one hand, I served the American flag; on the other, the
kabuki flag.” Bowers presumably saw himself as having dual cultural citi-
zenship. Within him were American culture and Japanese culture, and he
would sometimes be filled with the tension between them, while at other
times they stood side by side, equally. Since he was an American and a
member of the Occupation, this internal division caused him considerable
anguish. He was a heretic who defied MacArthur’s GHQ goals and, from a
Kanjinch
point of view, was disloyal in carrying out his superior’s orders.
It is significant that Kanjinch
was perhaps the only kabuki play that
also played a significant role in film censorship. When the war ended,
director Kurosawa Akira had been engaged in making a movie version of
the story, called Tora no O o Fumu Otokotachi (The Men Who Tread on the
Tiger’s Tail). GHQ quickly banned the finished film. Kurosawa was certain
that a Japanese censor at the Ministry of Internal Affairs, with whom he
had quarreled, was directly responsible for the censors never actually
viewing the film. Three years later, when they did, they approved of it.
84 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

“However,” reports Kyoko Hirano, “it is generally believed that the film
was in fact banned because it was a period film, depicting feudal loyalty.”37
Hirano’s reasoning, which does not mention the kabuki play, makes per-
fect sense when one considers the difficulties that Kanjinch
had to endure
before its 1946 production. Why the film had to wait until 1952 to be
released, however, is not certain.
For all his insistence at the time on kabuki’s ideological harmlessness,
Bowers actually harbored a somewhat different impression of its feudal
values. In my 1999 documentary about him, The American Who Saved Kabuki
(Kabuki o Sukutta Amerikajin), Bowers commented on his own documen-
tary, The Cruelty of Beauty, in which kabuki’s penchant for vengeance and
adherence to the creed of bushid
is explored. Realizing the contradiction
between his Occupation argument and the descriptions put forth in the
film, he confessed: “So many times during the Occupation, I said kabuki is
so democratic, kabuki is so good a thing. I was tired of lying. Now this was
years after the Occupation. I was free and I thought, I’ll do a study of
bushid
, which always interested me, and bushid
is the soul of kabuki and I
was never allowed to talk about it and I thought, with this I’ll do it. I’ll do
what I want.” So Bowers was not only ambivalent regarding his position
between American censorship policies and his own desire to rescue kabuki;
he was also torn between his inherent understanding of kabuki’s feudal
tendencies and his desire to somehow cover them up by arguing, with
equal conviction and belief, that kabuki was essentially a nonideological
form principally concerned with aesthetic values. At a time when even
Japanese were inclined to lose faith in their traditional culture and to
doubt its value, what in the world led an American in his twenties to
extend himself on its behalf?
One of the means by which Bowers wooed Ernst to permit Kanjinch

was to select its remarkable cast. Getting illustrious actors to perform pro-
duces a fragrance of artistry. Bowers was convinced that great theatre is
created when great actors perform. But Sh
chiku’s president tried to stand
in Bowers’s way: “I really wasn’t on good terms with tani [Takejir
of
Sh
chiku]. To tani, money came first. To me, art came first. All-star casts
caused other theatres to suffer. They couldn’t make money. I was selfish. I
had power then and I behaved willfully. I had many quarrels with tani.”
If a certain theatre assembled a lineup of top actors, it made the fans
ecstatic, but it thinned the performance ranks at the other theatres and hurt
attendance. From a financial point of view, tani’s reluctance about all-
star casts was understandable. But Bowers steamrolled him.
Bowers, with a mischievous expression, confessed: “The reasons I gave
were only excuses. It was really because I wanted to see it. I was waiting
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 85

for this. An all-star Kanjinch
.” Ernst and Sh
chiku argued that it was in
the interests of art, but the truth is that Bowers himself wanted to see Kan-
jinch
played by the greatest actors. So Bowers chose the cast, a rare and
brilliant one starring K
shir
VII as Benkei, Kichiemon I as Togashi, and
Kikugor
VI as Yoshitsune.
Bowers vividly remembered the scene backstage just before the play
began on opening day: “Kichiemon and Kikugor
argued. Yoshitsune’s hat
wasn’t ready yet and Kikugor
was angry. The real reason was that acting
Yoshitsune was boring. So Kikugor
hated playing him. He had to sit on his
knees, immobile, for half an hour.”
Nagayama Takeomi, the present head of Sh
chiku, recalled: “All the
costumes were destroyed in the air raids. There were times when the cos-
tumes for opening day weren’t ready in time.” For example, an October
1945 production of Benten Koz
at the Shinjuku Daiichi Gekij
starring
Kataoka Nizaemon XII required a polka-dot hand towel (tenugui) closely
associated with the title character. When one could not be found, a stage
assistant took a white hand towel and painted ink spots on it with a writ-
ing brush, and it was used throughout the run without a word of criticism.
So it was not surprising that on opening day of Kanjinch
Yoshitsune’s
hat was not ready. To obtain this round, lacquered sedge hat, sloping slightly
to a peak, the theatre’s staff had to rush to two different n
theatres to find
one, as a similar hat is worn in the n
play Ataka, on which Kanjinch
is
based. The performance bell had rung and the orchestra had to improvise
for ten or twenty minutes before the hat arrived.
Bowers revealed, however, that Kikugor
’s unhappiness was not re-
lated to his costume. He pointed to Yoshitsune being a “man of patience
and endurance” (shinb
yaku), a kabuki role type. Benkei is flamboyant,
combining wisdom and bravery, and his part is filled with highlights, such
as the climactic reading of a subscription scroll (whose contents he must
improvise), a Buddhist catechism (mondo) in which Togashi engages him, a
leaping exit (tobi ropp
) on the hanamichi, and so on. Togashi is also active,
with his inquiries into the truth or falsehood of Benkei’s mission. But Yoshi-
tsune remains practically motionless, in a kneeling position, from begin-
ning to end. It is quite difficult to express his feelings, which makes him
very much “a man of patience and endurance.” Kikugor
was dissatisfied
to play opposite the active roles of K
shir
and Kichiemon.
Despite the dressing room bickering, once the curtain opened these
great pillars of the contemporary stage gave the performance their all. The
production was a standing-room sellout.
The May 1946 program was memorable for other reasons as well.
For one thing, it was the first postwar all-star kabuki program. Divided into
86 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

day and evening sections, it followed the censors’ request for 50 percent of
the material to be modern works (these were plays by twentieth-century
dramatists Uno Nobuo, Satomi Ton, and Tsubouchi Sh
y
), and 50 percent
to be classics (the dance play Rokkasen, the Mokuami bandit play [shiranami
mono] Benten Koz
, and Sukeroku). The last play was especially important be-
cause of its relationship to Bowers’s continuing efforts to insure that kabuki’s
young actors be given a chance to show what they could do. When it
seemed that the old actors were monopolizing the most important parts,
Bowers insisted that, for the sake of kabuki’s future, the youngsters be
allowed to star.
The title role in the May production of Sukeroku had been taken by the
seventy-seven-year-old K
shir
VII. His rival, Iky, was played by Kichie-
mon I. Young Matsumoto Kintar
(later Matsumoto K
shir
IX) made
his debut in the production. In the following month, there was a unique
follow-up production of Sukeroku, with K
shir
VII’s eldest son, the thirty-
seven-year-old Ichikawa Ebiz
IX (later Ichikawa Danjr
XI), as Sukeroku.
The handsome and very talented young Ebiz
took complete advantage of
the opportunity and rocketed to kabuki superstardom, creating an “Ebiz

boom” that helped propel his career to the point that he eventually suc-
ceeded to kabuki’s most revered name, Danjr
, which no living actor had
held since the death of Danjr
IX in 1903 (Danjr
X was awarded the
name posthumously). Bowers—still in MacArthur’s employ at the time—
is credited by Kawatake Shigetoshi with having encouraged Ebiz
’s cast-
ing.38 Other stars whose careers he helped boost included Sh
roku and
Baik
, who, like Ebiz
, would often perform with their seniors—the grand
old stars—playing small supporting roles.
The next proscribed classical work for which Ernst gave his per-
mission was “Kumagai Jinya,” produced in October 1946 at the T
geki. It
was nearly a year since the “Terakoya” incident at the same theatre in
November 1945.
Kumagai Naozane, the hero, is faced with having to kill his young
enemy, Taira no Atsumori, in battle. But many years before, Kumagai and
his wife were saved by Atsumori’s mother from being punished for the
court infraction of having a romantic relationship. She let them flee to
safety, thereby putting them under a debt of obligation to her. Kumagai
beheads his own son, Kojir
Naoie, and, substituting his son’s head for
Atsumori’s, presents the head for inspection to his lord, Minamoto Yoshi-
tsune. It turns out that it was actually Yoshitsune’s very subtly communi-
cated intention that Kumagai save Atsumori and use Kojir
as a substitute.
Kumagai, having killed his own son as an act of loyalty to his lord, realizes
the transience of life, abandons the military life, shaves his head, becomes
a priest, and leaves on a pilgrimage to pray for his son’s soul and those
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 87

of other dead warriors. Kumagai’s final words, expressing the fragility of

human existence, are famous: “Jroku nen wa hito mukashi, aa, yume da
yume da” (Sixteen years, like a day. Ahh! It’s a dream, a dream).
When Bowers held his press conference regarding the “KABUKI TO
BE ABOLISHED” article, he pointed out that Kumagai’s response to being
forced to kill his own boy is a defiance of militarism. And Bowers had
written in his own essay about how “Kumagai Jinya” is thoroughly anti-
militarist in its depiction of a warrior who turns from war’s idiocy to reli-
gion. Bowers believed that this was clearly an antimilitary play about a
man’s rejection of the samurai way and his enlightenment regarding life’s
evanescence.
Learning of Bowers’s views, Sh
chiku’s representatives decided to
seek his assistance in making a plea to the GHQ authorities to have the
play cleared for performance. The ones designated as envoys to appeal to
Bowers were Kichiemon’s wife, Chiyo, and their daughter, Seiko. Bowers
had no objections, and he again made entreaties to Ernst.
It was then that “Kumagai Jinya” was revived. Of course, Kichiemon
played Kumagai. So the revival of “Kumagai Jinya” was Kichiemon’s re-
vival as well. And the public, which had been starved for the forbidden old
history plays, celebrated his performance.

h,H
Santha Rama Rau was born in Madras, India; moved to England at six;
was educated there for ten years; and then graduated from Wellesley, an
American university. She came to Tokyo in 1947, when she was twenty-
four. Her father was the first Indian ambassador to Japan following his
nation’s independence. Through Bowers, her future spouse, Rau, too, be-
friended kabuki’s actors. She wrote in East of Home:

I went to the kabuki theatre a great deal and gradually I came to know
the actors themselves and their families. . . . Kichiemon and his family
adopted me and provided my introduction to the rest of the kabuki
circle partly because they had met me through Faubion whom they had
known since before the war and who, Kichiemon told me very seri-
ously, “saved the Japanese theatre from the ruin that would have be-
fallen it under foreign governments and the inexplicable conditions in
Japan today. . . .” With Seiko, Kichiemon and Faubion, who practically
lived in the theatre anyway, I used to sit for hours watching rehearsals.
In the empty, unheated auditorium, shivering and wrapped in coats and
blankets, I watched. . . .39

As mentioned earlier, Rau’s father had told her that seeing Japanese
theatre would be the fastest road to understanding the Japanese people’s
88 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

ideas. “Of course,” she informed me during an interview in her New York
apartment, “the point of a play is the dramatist’s desire to reach an audi-
ence. Knowing this, you get to know a country’s cultural and historical
heritage. You get to know in a compressed form that country’s long-
cultivated heritage. . . . It’s the same thing when seeing kabuki. By seeing
kabuki, we can come in contact with the Japanese people’s emotional
history. We learn things that are central to kabuki such as what loyalty,
morality, immorality, and honor are, and what one should give one’s life
for. By watching kabuki, we understand Japan’s inner heart and its inner
life.”
She went on, explaining her phrase “emotional history”:

Culture is the basis of people’s various actions. The source of people’s

actions is the culture cultivated by a country and its people. On the basis
of culture, people take practical action. Therefore, rooted in Japan’s cul-
ture are Japan’s loyalty and Japan’s morality and immorality. In other
words, I think you can say that by culture is meant the criteria by which,
in any age, one can know what the appropriate behavior in that society
is. Since this is a people’s historically cultivated emotional expression
and its logical manifestation, it is what I mean by emotional history.

She wrote in East of Home of an exchange between Kichiemon and

Bowers:

Occasionally, during that time, I would find [Faubion] in Kichiemon’s

dressing room sitting back on his heels like a Japanese and lecturing
furiously about the stupidity of the censorship policy. “The idiocy of
it!” he would say. “Can you imagine?—they want to suppress it be-
cause it is a ‘revenge play,’ so it will give the Japanese ideas. Hamlet is a
revenge play, too. Do you want to rush out and murder your uncle
when you’ve seen it? But then,” he added bitterly, “the British aren’t a
defeated nation, so I suppose it’s all right for them to have undemo-
cratic ideas.”
“Calm yourself,” Kichiemon said. “You present these arguments
the wrong way. . . . One has to know the history of Japan and of kabuki,
the lines of the play, and one has to understand the minds of the Japa-
nese seeing the play. Do any of the people making your policies know
all that?”
“Of course not. Does any colonizer understand the people he
tries to colonize? You can only be a successful colonist if you believe that
your civilization, culture, religion, way of life—anything—are superior.
The minute you start to understand the other people you are no longer
sure.”
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 89

“Exactly,” Kichiemon said. “That is the very paradox at the heart

of this Occupation. So you see, my dear Faubion, you must explain it
to them in their terms. These plays are a protest against bushido; there
is always the cry against the samurai in kabuki. Remember, these plays
were written by commoners whose enemies were the samurai. . . .
Before the war our government tried to forge kabuki into a weapon for
their side by deleting lines and suppressing plays. Now, by doing the
same things you show yourselves no better than the government
which you claim were your enemies.”40

That Bowers did not fully buy Kichiemon’s argument regarding

bushid
is demonstrated by the documentary he later produced, which was
designed to demonstrate how bushid
is the “soul” of kabuki. But, at least
in this reported exchange with Kichiemon, he did not offer a rebuttal, pre-
sumably because he was taking the same tack in his arguments with GHQ
censors.
Rau and Bowers were often invited to the Kichiemon house for dinner.
She describes what it was like: “We walked upstairs to the usual Japanese
room, decorated this time with a celadon vase in the corner in front of a
long kakemono (a scroll painting) of a winter scene in north Japan.” As
they ate, Kichiemon spoke:

It astonishes me that Western actors feel that they can learn their art
after they are adults. To act well one should start from the time one is
young so that one grows up in the knowledge and tradition of the
theatre. It is impossible to learn the parts. One must be a character so
intensely that kabuki is the reality and the ordinary would be a fantasy.41

h,H
Despite Bowers’s efforts to take the offensive against the censors by pro-
ducing special educational performances for the GIs and GHQ, the lifting
of prohibitions was slow in coming.
A year after the “Terakoya” incident, the relaxation of censorship
had gone only as far as giving permission for Kanjinch
and “Kumagai
Jinya.” Moreover, Bowers clearly had exceeded his authority and had
spoken more than was permitted. There is little doubt that his devotion to
kabuki interfered with his job as MacArthur’s aide. Anyway, he had come
to feel no longer useful in his job and, being by nature a free soul, a wan-
derer, he wanted to move on. There was nothing more uncomfortable,
more painful for him than to hold a regular job serving someone else.
This is the natural conclusion one arrives at concerning his actions
after he left his MacArthur job. Vexed by the slow progress of lifting cen-
90 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

sorship, Bowers became a censor himself. Unable to leave the future of

kabuki up to others, he took matters into his own hands. When he changed
jobs is not clear, although he claimed it was 1947. Bowers actually left
his job as MacArthur’s aide and became a censor sometime in late 1946,
probably November. His reasons for changing jobs are given later in this
chapter.

h,H
I have noted all along that CI&E controlled the censorship section. It was
CI&E’s responsibility to approve and deny permission for kabuki plays, to
handle all negotiations, and to make all notifications. In this sense, CI&E
was unquestionably in charge of censorship, but GHQ also maintained a
separate arm called the Civil Censorship Detachment (CCD). CCD had
begun operations on September 3, 1945, under Gen. Elliot Thorpe. It at first
belonged to the Civil Intelligence Section (CIS), but from mid-1946, CIS
was part of G2 (General Staff Section 2), under Brig. Gen. Charles A.
Willoughby, who replaced Thorpe. Ernst described the two basic functions
of CCD as “gathering information, particularly that revealing Japanese
attitudes in their letters . . . and suppressing the circulation of any material
deemed inimical to the aims of the Occupation,” by which he meant any-
thing that would have weakened the democratization process.42 CI&E, he
wrote, “was designed to perform the positive function of revealing Amer-
ican practices to the Japanese in the field of communication and thereby
inculcating in them a firsthand knowledge of the workings of democracy.”43
Or, according to Kyoko Hirano, the mission of CI&E, “staffed primarily by
civilians, was educational guidance, and it was thus considered to have con-
ducted civil censorship. On the other hand, CCD was mostly staffed with
military personnel and was primarily engaged in military intelligence and
counterintelligence activities; it was thus considered in general to have
conducted military censorship.”44 Thus, a dual censorship system was oper-
ative in GHQ, and it remained in effect from January 1946 through June
1949. Although there was no formal setup allowing communication be-
tween the two units, “those engaged in working with the theatre in both
these units considered it advisable to work together, unofficially and almost
clandestinely.”45
As this suggests, the tasks of CI&E and CCD overlapped. Starting with
movies and theatre, all scripts were checked by each of these censorship
agencies. Speaking broadly, CI&E was concerned with educational guid-
ance, while CCD was occupied with the control of information. All basic
agreements regarding kabuki were made by both CI&E and CCD. Accord-
ing to these agreements, Sh
chiku presented English translations of plays
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 91

seeking permission to each agency. It was necessary to go through them

both. Although occasional disagreements arose concerning films, no seri-
ous conflicts between the agencies seem to have arisen with regard to
kabuki.
Ernst, aware that he would soon have to get back to his professorship
in Honolulu, suggested to Bowers that the latter be put in charge of the-
atrical matters for CCD. Bowers took him up on this, working under Ernst’s
command. The difference between Bowers’s job as MacArthur’s aide and
his new position as censor was like night and day. First, the rule was that,
although operated by the military, CCD’s employees had to be civilians, so
Bowers lost his position as an army major. Ernst, as head censor, remained
in the military, but Bowers, as his employee, had to resign his commission.46
His salary was halved. He was forced to leave his place at the embassy and,
of course, his two chefs and maid. But to Bowers, who never held much
stock in material possessions, the change in his situation was “Nothing
special. . . . Art comes first to me.”
As soon as he became responsible for theatre in CCD, his concerns
began to grow. “Compared to before, I was in a very low position. Ernst
was the censor of CCD. I tried hard to get along with him.” Not long after-
ward, Ernst’s tour of duty ended and he went back to America. Bowers
now became the chief censor, and he put his heart and soul into lifting all
bans on kabuki as quickly as possible while allowing GHQ to save face.
Apparently, his new civilian status did not interfere with his inheritance of
Ernst’s job.
Back in Honolulu, Ernst, now bitten by the kabuki bug, wrote his
splendid 1956 book about it. He was active in producing kabuki plays at
the University of Hawai‘i, where the practice not only continued but flour-
ished under his gifted successor, James R. Brandon. Ernst served kabuki
well. But relations between him and Bowers were never resolved. They
knew too much about each other. When Bowers reviewed Ernst’s book in
the New York Times, he gave it a grudgingly admiring review. Ernst, Bowers
later admitted, was instinctively a better writer than he. He was also socially
conscious before Bowers’s own social instincts were developed. Ernst had
been shocked to learn that T
h
was paying the Nichigeki chorus girls five
yen a day and letting them faint from weakness during rehearsals. Bowers
acknowledged that he himself was slow to develop his left-wing indigna-
tion and defense of the common man.

h,H
Yoneyama Kazuo, born in 1903, worked for GHQ for ten years, two of
them for CCD as a subordinate of Bowers. Yoneyama told me that “CCD
92 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

was not the organizational subordinate to CI&E. I think it was indepen-

dent.” He explained: “Our work in the CCD censorship section was to
actually read the plays for which permission had been requested and then
the section head stamped them ‘okay’ or ‘not okay.’ Bowers was head
(kach
) of the theatre section. The censorship section examined the appli-
cation materials supplied by the producers and noted this is all right, this is
no good, or this is how it can be fixed. In other words, the censorship sec-
tion was in control. The main job of the education section [CI&E] was to
say this one can be done or we don’t like this one, do this, do that.”
CI&E’s role was, literally, to bypass censorship and handle education
and propaganda. In terms of kabuki, CI&E’s educational task was to elimi-
nate its feudal aspects, introduce as many contemporary works as possible,
and provide cooperative leadership in democratizing it. In contrast, CCD
was the main agency for control; it actually examined the scripts that were
submitted and occasionally visited the theatres to make surprise inspec-
tions and see for itself what was going on.
Yoneyama remembered taking part in such surprise inspections:
“There was the T
min Gekij
, a theatre in Ueno Ward. I went there and
saw a play about the murder of Senmatsu. In one scene, Senmatsu is vio-
lently slain. A scene in which a child is killed like this was impermissible.
The theatre company asked what it could do. Well, kill him and get it over
with. If you do it that way, there shouldn’t be a problem. You mustn’t be
cruel to children. Especially very young ones. That’s because GHQ abso-
lutely won’t stand for it.”
The play to which he is referring is Meiboku Sendai Hagi, a kabuki his-
tory play about a dynastic dispute within the Date clan of Sendai. The scene
in question concerns the attempt by Lady Yashio to kill the young lord
Tsuruchiyo, whom her wicked brother, Nikki Danj
, wants dead. Another
child, Senmatsu, disrupts the attempt, and the heartless Yashio brutally
slays him in revenge. After she stabs him, she sadistically twists the knife
in the wound.
Yoneyama remembered: “Bowers was section head for movies and
theatre, and there were three or four Nisei under him. Below them was a
staff of twenty or so Japanese, like me. Perhaps four or five persons worked
on films, while fifteen or sixteen handled theatre. I was one of the theatre
people. Anyway, a lot of scripts came in, including those from small theatres,
and we had to translate them all. But, you know, they were all handwritten.
In Japanese. We had to translate them within a fixed period. All the Japa-
nese workers, me included, became translators. Translating Japanese scripts
into English. Bowers and the others would read these and decide ‘okay’
or ‘no.’ ”
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 93

Yoneyama stated: “Sometimes there were scripts that had to be trans-

lated in a very short time. We called this ‘rush,’ which was quickly pen-
ciled in red. When you include these and the great number of scripts that
had to be translated into English every day, we were extremely busy. The
Occupation Army wasn’t allowed any overtime at all. We had to do our
jobs within the allotted time. From nine in the morning until five in the
afternoon, except for an hour off for lunch, but unlike civilians, this was
not the time to read a magazine or look at a newspaper. We had to work
by the clock.”
Yoneyama, a former English teacher, was past forty, but his new
place of employment, to which he decided to go—despite mixed feelings
about working for his recent enemies—was much easier to work at than
he had expected: “It was really quite painless, CCD. I was amazed. Japan
was, after all, the defeated country, and they were the winners. So I thought
I’d be ordered to do various things. But, you know, it was rather pleasant.
Everyone happily went about his work, with a lot of noise and in har-
mony, and I felt like it was quite different from a Japanese office.”
Yoneyama recalled that “Bowers was a good man. He wasn’t stiff at
all and was like a friend. He would often say, ‘Is everybody happy?’ An-
other thing was that we changed our seats every week or two. That’s be-
cause some people were in dark places or on hard chairs, depending on
where they were in the office. Bowers must have felt it wasn’t right for
some people to have to be so uncomfortable, so we took turns using the
unpleasant spots. We owed this to Bowers’s consideration.”
Yoneyama, who had grown up in Tottori City, where he had seen a
lot of touring kabuki, was the CCD staff member who had the greatest
familiarity with kabuki scripts. At first, he received every play script, kabuki
and otherwise. But time constraints forced him to focus on kabuki. This is
because the younger staff did not know how to read all the Sino-Japanese
characters. Once, they stumbled over the arcane word tsutsumotase.47 “Our
building was a broadcasting station, so—misreading the word—they asked
me if it meant a broadcasting station with beautiful female announcers.
The young folk and the Nisei didn’t know Japanese [well] and even if they
did, they didn’t know kabuki. I was the oldest Japanese on the CCD staff.
Before you knew it, all the most problematic scripts were brought to Yone-
yama, meaning that all the kabuki plays wound up with me.”
Bowers became CCD’s theatre section chief in November 1946, I
believe, so Yoneyama, who arrived there in May 1946, preceded him by
half a year. He was continually impressed by Bowers’s familiarity with
kabuki. He also recalls the frequent visits of kabuki stars—including K
shir

VII, Kichiemon I, Utaemon VI, and Baik
VII—to pay their respects. Lead-
Figure 11 Faubion Bowers and Nakamura Utaemon VI, in the wheelchair, in
1998. To the right is Nagayama Takeomi, chairman of the Sh
chiku Corporation.
(Photograph courtesy of Faubion Bowers.)
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 95

ing actors from the shinkokugeki genre also came. The actors probably
brought a box of cake or two with them. The immediate postwar Occupa-
tion was a demeaning time of little freedom, when major stars, their heads
bowed, often made visits to curry favor with the censors.

h,H
While serving as a censor, Bowers wrote his own Japanese-language
report on his work. Its English title is “The Censorship System and the
Situation of Today’s Japanese Theatre.” He may have written it as a record
intended for presentation to GHQ. For several days, he loaned it to Pro-
fessor Kawatake Shigetoshi, who copied it, presumably in 1948. In it,
Bowers wrote of “Kumagai Jinya”: “This play belongs to the class of plays
about ‘ambivalent persons’ or ‘two-faced loyalty.’ To be honest, Kumagai
is a traitor. He saves his enemy on the battlefield and does not accomplish
his duty as a warrior.”48
Bowers’s “ambivalent persons” argument was a weapon with which
he rationalized lifting the ban on kabuki history plays. It was an expedient
argument for persuading GHQ and the upper echelons. But Kawatake
Toshio discerns in the following interpretation a truthful significance that
cannot be so easily dismissed:

It firmly rejected the post-Meiji period interpretation of revising the

line [in “Terakoya”] “To be in service to a lord is an unenviable lot” to
the militaristic “Now we can truly serve our lord” and was also a fore-
runner of the modern thinking about kabuki that came into effect after
the war.49

One can manipulate a play to make it mean whatever one wants.

Thus, it was the simplest of tasks for the militarists to change the line from
a rejection of serving one’s lord to an affirmation of it. Bowers’s argument
dealt a severe blow to such doubtful interpretations.
At the same time, until it was pointed out by Bowers, barely any Japa-
nese viewed “Kumagai Jinya” as a play dealing with an unfaithful samurai,
a traitor. A similar explanation can be found in one of critic Miyake Shu-
tar
’s books, but most people never noticed such a position.50 In this sense,
Bowers’s interpretation was a fresh one.
After Bowers had taken his job at CCD and Ernst had gone back to
America, Bowers alone assumed responsibility for deciding which plays
were acceptable and which were not. It was just as he wanted it. Carefully
but boldly, he furthered the cause of the banned plays. The problem was
96 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

how to obtain the agreement of GHQ and how to build and explain a logical
argument for the dissolution of prohibitions.
On February 19, 1947, Bowers met Professor Kawatake of the Tsu-
bouchi Memorial Theatre Museum for the first time in his new capacity as
the theatre censor for CCD. Also present was Hata Yoshir
, editor of Nihon
Engeki magazine. The following letter to Bowers from Onoe Sh
roku II
allows us to imagine what they might have discussed:

Let me get right to the point. It is Rokudaime’s [Onoe Kikugor
VI] fer-
vent wish that permission be granted for a full-length production of
Sugawara Denju Tenarai Kagami at the T
ky
Gekij
in April. I will meet
you to go over all the details tomorrow morning (March 1) at nine at
the Dai-Ichi Hotel and will bring the script with me. (The office is prob-
ably closed on Saturday.) So, more when I see you. If it’s inconvenient,
please leave a message at the reception desk.
Sh
roku51

This letter, sent to Bowers on Friday, February 28, lacks Sh
roku’s

usual friendly, joking style and is not addressed to “H
bu-chan” from
“Yutaka,” Sh
roku’s private name, with which he normally signed his
letters to Bowers. Its businesslike aim was the ending of the ban on Suga-
wara as a full-length production. Since March 1 was a Saturday, on which
the office would likely have been closed, Sh
roku planned to bring the
script to Bowers at his hotel residence. Bowers already had intimated to
Sh
roku that the ban would be lifted. The question was when. At the
time, Kikugor
and Sh
roku were talking about the abolition of the ban
on Sugawara by April.
Sugawara’s “Terakoya” scene had been tarred with GHQ’s brush of
proscription and banned from the stage. Because of this play, kabuki had
suffered great anxiety concerning its ultimate life or death. If Sugawara were
released from its ban, it would end kabuki’s torment. Indeed, its revival
would be definitive proof that kabuki was coming back to life. Bowers’s visit
to Waseda to meet Kawatake was nine days before he received Sh
roku’s
letter. Since Bowers had told Sh
roku to expect a lifting of the ban on Suga-
wara, he must have visited Kawatake to discuss how and when to bring
this to fruition.
The first work for which Bowers provided permission as censor was
“Sodehagi Saimon” (also called “Adasan”), Act III of sh Adachigahara. It
opened at the T
geki in March 1947, combining the troupes of Nakamura
Kichiemon I and Ichikawa Ennosuke II. According to Kawatake Shigetoshi,
Kichiemon played both the blind beggar-woman, Sodehagi, and the hand-
some young man, Abe no Sadat
, while Ennosuke played Sadat
’s brother,
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 97

Abe no Munet
. Bowers had arranged for the play to be produced because
he wanted to see Kichiemon in his double role. The play has a scene in
which Sodehagi’s father, Kenj
, commits seppuku. After he plunges the
sword into his abdomen, his white hair comes loose and he delivers a long,
agonized speech—usually lasting ten minutes or more—offering three main
reasons for his action. Bowers—already nervous about a scene of belly-
cutting suicide, one of the most feudalistic conventions—seems to have wor-
ried about the handling of this scene. So he imposed a condition: “When
he inserts the sword, he takes a breath and then dies. There will be no long
speech.” Kenj
was permitted to give only one explanation for his seppuku
and, once he inserted the blade, was to drop dead immediately.52 In my
documentary, The American Who Saved Kabuki, Bowers confessed the shame
he came to feel at having asked kabuki actors to tone down or eliminate
overly feudalistic speeches. He acknowledged that the removal of such
speeches was a desecration of generations of tradition and likened his
request to asking an actor of Hamlet not to speak “To be or not to be” be-
cause it implies thoughts of suicide.
On opening day, Kawatake watched the play from the supervisory
room at the theatre’s rear. As soon as the play was over, Bowers came in
and spoke to him: “When Sadat
enters the mansion, I don’t think it works
if he pays absolutely no attention to the dead Sodehagi. What do you
think?” Sodehagi, the blind beggar-woman who has come down in the
world, used to be Sadat
’s wife. “Since his own wife has killed herself, I
think that Sadat
should be at least a little sympathetic.” This was a rea-
sonable notion and an appropriate request. Kawatake agreed and they
went to the dressing room to advise the actor about it.53
Bowers had the discerning eye of a professional. He was a connoisseur
who saw things from a director’s perspective. Kawatake’s essay discusses
the various kabuki study groups Bowers attempted. Bowers and the Nisei
who worked for him held regular roundtable discussions with Kawatake
and Atsumi Seitar
. Kawatake reported: “Bowers would hold meetings
with several of the Japanese translators who worked at his office, and some-
times ten people would gather on their day off at the Shinbashi Enbuj

where they would listen to me talk about theatre. I think we continued
this about ten times.”54

h,H
Around March 1947, when Bowers permitted “Sodehagi Saimon,” all cen-
sorship of the bunraku puppet theatre was lifted, possibly because it was
not considered as popular as kabuki. Like kabuki, bunraku had seen its
history plays restricted by GHQ. As expected, this was under the extreme
98 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

limitations established during Hal Keith’s tenure as censor. Thus, bunraku

was released from censorship before kabuki.
The chanters’ narratives were also closely checked. They could not
say “tenn
” (emperor) but had to use “kimi” (ruler); “chokuj
” (imperial mes-
sage) was forbidden and was replaced by “okotoba” (honorable words).
Such rules were overly detailed and caused the chanters and shamisen
players no end of bother. The narratives have a musical scale and seven-
five (shichigo-ch
) meter. When the words are replaced, the music and
meter are spoiled. The puppets’ movements are also affected. Thus, prior
to Bowers’s appointment as head of theatre censorship at CCD, bunraku
was not merely plagued by repertory restrictions but hampered by other
factors that were different from those faced by kabuki.
The bunraku chanter Takemoto Oriday (later Tsunaday) left Osaka
to appeal to Bowers in Tokyo. They are said to have met in the T
geki
dressing room of K
shir
VII. As soon as Bowers heard Oriday’s story, he
went to Osaka and completely lifted the prohibitions on bunraku. Early in
1947, bunraku tossed off the shackles of the Occupation and tasted freedom.
It had been under censorship restrictions for a year and a half.

h,H
A week after Bowers’s meeting with Kawatake at the Tsubouchi Memorial
Theatre Museum, at which they presumably discussed Sugawara, Bowers
made his way there again. A note of Kawatake’s says: “26th. Visit from
Major Bowers. Many questions.” It also includes the following questions:
“Why does kabuki, which arose among the common people, concern the
Confucian spirit and warrior’s lives?” “How did prewar censorship differ
from wartime censorship?” The note does not say how Kawatake answered
such questions. It does say, though, that during the visit, Bowers told Kawa-
take, “I intend to give permission for ‘Moritsuna Jinya.’ ”55
Bowers gave Sh
chiku two conditions for the production of Suga-
wara: one was that it had to be a full-length production (t
shi ky
gen); the
other was that it had to be done in true traditional spirit with the best
actors only.
As noted in Chapter 1, most kabuki programs consist of selected scenes
from longer plays, a practice called midori, in contrast to t
shi ky
gen, or
full-length productions. For example, a typical program might include not
all of Sugawara but only its “Terakoya” scene, or, in the case of Chshingura,
only the “Gion Ichiriki Jaya” scene. Several such scenes would comprise a
program, with some scenes being fairly short and others lasting up to an
hour and a half or more.
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 99

In his report on censorship, Bowers criticized the midori approach,

writing, “Concentrating not on scene by scene fragmentation, but on entire
plays, will advance kabuki’s literary and artistic sides, and will conse-
quently raise the level of audiences.” He gave concise reasons for why he
said no to midori and yes to full-length productions. “If you show only
Sakuramaru’s seppuku or the head substitution in ‘Terakoya,’ those scenes
alone become prominent. But if you do a full-length production they be-
come inconspicuous.”56
Bowers was pointing to the danger of evaluating the whole on the
basis of a part. It was by no means the playwrights’ intention to focus on
Sakuramaru’s suicide or Matsu
maru’s substitution of his son, Kotar
, for
Kan Shsai. The playwrights’ idea was to convey the entire work from
beginning to end.
Sugawara, it should be added, tells of how a power struggle between
Lord Shihei and Lord Sugawara inevitably leads to conflicts among the
triplets Sakuramaru, Umeomaru, and Matsu
maru, who should be on
peaceful and friendly terms with one another. Parents and children split
into enemy and ally camps, one brother commits suicide, and another loses
his child by having to substitute his life for that of his lord’s son. One can
view this as a miniaturized picture of the ancient Japanese social structure,
in which a dispute between powerful lords resulted in tragedy for their
minor retainers, or it can be taken as a tragedy caused by the family
system in a feudalistic society. Or one may view it as a story of human love
based on noble self-sacrifice.
Bowers’s logic that a play should be judged as a whole and not on the
basis of its parts is undoubtedly correct. Be that as it may, however, full-
length productions are very time-consuming. The five acts in Sugawara—
“Hipp
Denju,” “D
my
ji,” “Kuruma Biki” and “Ga no Iwai” (part of a single
act), “Terakoya,” and “uchi”—require a full day to perform. Nevertheless,
most of this, with the addition of a few new but short pieces, was in the
full-length production at the T
geki in May 1947, divided into matinee
and evening sections. Timewise, to do all eleven acts of Chshingura in one
day would be impossible. The production would have to begin around
dawn, as it would have in the Edo period.
Bowers, seeking to make feudal ideas like seppuku and substitution
murders “less conspicuous” and hoping to raise kabuki’s artistic level, de-
manded that Sh
chiku produce full-length works. He insisted that the pro-
hibitions would only be lifted for full-length productions. If one looks at
the programs at the Kabuki-za during the war, it is clear that t
shi produc-
tions were practically nonexistent. Bowers took great pride in his responsi-
100 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

bility for restoring the idea of t
shi ky
gen, although it never became the
standard procedure he had hoped for. Only when the new Kokuritsu
Gekij
, opened in1966, began to provide relatively full-length productions
did audiences get to see them on a regular basis, but even there this prac-
tice has diminished considerably.
The other condition that Sh
chiku had to satisfy, that the high-
est level actors be used to display the essence of traditional artistry, was
one that Bowers attached to any drama before releasing it from pro-
scription. But, as reported earlier, Bowers, while excusing himself for
being selfish, admitted that he personally wanted to see gorgeous, all-star
productions.
Yoneyama saw the irony in this: “Well, that’s how it was. Bowers only
gave his okay to shows with the best actors. So troupes with no regional
reputation that applied were turned down. This was often an internal prob-
lem. We’d say, ‘You, you Americans, you’re democratic, so why does one
actor get permission and another actor doesn’t? If you’re going to preserve
art, is it right to discriminate among people?’ ”
Bowers was vulnerable to this. He might have argued, as he did
in his oral history interview, that since so many of the great kabuki
actors were then very old, it was important that they “appear together as
much as possible.” He added, “Japanese theatrical experts look upon my
period as the golden era of Kabuki, because the greatest plays were pro-
duced in their most complete form with the greatest constellation of stars
ever.”57

h,H
In May 1947, precisely a year and a half after the “Terakoya” incident, Suga-
wara came back from the dead at the T
ky
Gekij
. It was a harbinger of
kabuki’s complete revival.
It was an all-star spectacular, featuring K
shir
VII and Kichiemon I,
of course, as well as Kikugor
VI, Sh
roku II, Baik
VII, Band
Mitsugor

VII (1882–1961), Sawamura S
jr
VII, Nakamura Moshio IV (the future
Kanzabur
XVII), Nakamura Shikan VI (later Utaemon VI), and Nakamura
Tokiz
III—a stellar lineup of those who had tasted the shame of the ban
on “Terakoya” but who were now practically celebrating the rebirth of
kabuki.
During the run, a Jeep delivered Professor Kawatake to Bowers’s
office at the NHK Building. They spoke at length about Sugawara. Kawa-
take’s notes include part of their discussion, revealing some of Bowers’s
perceptions:
 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki 101

KAWATAKE: Which was the best part?

BOWERS: “Terakoya” without question. Kichiemon’s Takebe Genz
was
a thing of beauty.
KAWATAKE: I feel exactly the same.
BOWERS: Rokudaime’s Matsu
maru was fine, but I thought he was
sometimes too realistic. By the way, professor, Matsu
cries, right? Is it
because he has sacrificed the life of his own son, Kotar
, in the substi-
tution, or is it because his brother, Sakuramaru, has killed himself?
KAWATAKE: There are some problems in interpreting this. I think that he
first cries for Kotar
 but when his sorrow gradually shifts to thoughts
of Sakuramaru, he really breaks down.
BOWERS: I think so, too, but my feeling was that in this performance his
suffering for Sakuramaru was too much in excess of what he felt for
Kotar
and I was not convinced by it.
KAWATAKE: How did you feel about K
shir
’s Shiratay [the triplets’
father]?
BOWERS: I thought he was good physically but that his speeches were
second-rate. By the way, professor, is it Shiraday or Shiratay?
KAWATAKE: Shiratay. Bowers-san, what conditions did you ask from
Sh
chiku for this production? Did you warn them about anything?
Did you caution them that Sakuramaru’s seppuku was too painful?
BOWERS: No, there was nothing. The only thing I cautioned them about
was that, when Kotar
’s corpse is carried out and placed in the palan-
quin, it didn’t look good if his feet showed and that his feet should be
wrapped.58

To his surprise, Kawatake learned during this chat that Bowers, for
whatever reason, did not know about the “Terakoya” incident of a year
and a half earlier. Kawatake’s notes stated: “Bowers did not know that
‘Terakoya’ had been stopped midway through its performance, and he first
learned of it from me.” Whether, as this note suggests, Kawatake told
Bowers that the play had been halted during an actual production—an inci-
dent that the previous chapter disputes—or whether he simply informed
him that the production was forcibly canceled during its run, Bowers must
have been startled by the news. GHQ’s move to forbid “Terakoya” was the
direct impetus for the strengthening of kabuki censorship. It led to the
“KABUKI TO BE ABOLISHED” article that had enraged Bowers and was
also direct inspiration for the proscription placed on almost all history and
Mokuami plays.
102 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

If we trace back to its origins Bowers’s change of jobs—stemming

from his inability to stand idly by as MacArthur’s aide—we are forced to
admit that the primary cause was the “Terakoya” incident. Truth again
seems stranger than fiction when we consider that Bowers, with so many
close kabuki friends and acquaintances, did not find out about an event of
such urgency until a year and a half after it occurred.
Kabuki’s Suffering Ends
“I have not once been impressed by Kikugor
[VI’s] acting or dancing.
Rather than being impressed I usually get angry. I absolutely cannot agree
with those many educated Japanese who call him a ‘god of acting’ [ gei no
kamisama].”1
These vitriolic words were written by the late actor-director Senda
Koreya (1904–1994), a great modern theatre (shingeki) actor and director
who criticized kabuki mercilessly for many years. He also wrote:

I no longer believe that kabuki provides any creative inspiration to

modern people. . . . It lacks the power to stir up an artist’s creative juices.
It is not related to life anymore. When there is no relation to life, art
cannot be created. Kabuki actors live in the modern world, but they
serve no purpose. . . . 2
. . . It is nonsense to excuse kabuki’s scripts and content on
the grounds of its pictorial and musical beauty. The wellspring of
kabuki’s scripts has dried up. It is an evasion designed to conceal kabuki’s
outdatedness. . . . Kabuki has no choice but to remain only a form,
only a framework. . . . Its simple duty should be to remain only as a
framework.3

Senda also observed: “I think there should be a great fight to make

or break kabuki. I believe that unless there is a relatively clear decision
regarding kabuki, it will not be good for modern drama.”4
Bowers’s service as censorship head for theatre at the Civil Censor-
ship Detachment (CCD) was a high point. He gloried in his position, even

103
104 Kabuki’s Suffering Ends

more than when he was MacArthur’s aide. It is possible to view him as a

despot who held the power of life and death in his hands. Famous actors,
the Sh
chiku staff, scholars, and theatre lovers kowtowed to his authority.
But it was only natural that some would resent doing so. The opposition
vanguard was led by Senda and the communist director Hijikata Yoshi
(1898–1958), leaders of the left-wing theatre group Shin Tsukiji troupe. In
1940, because of the influence of Japanese militarists, Senda was arrested
and spent two years in jail. Hijikata was arrested in 1941 and imprisoned
for five years.
Once, when Bowers encountered Hijikata at an Indian embassy
luncheon, the director told him point blank, “What you’re doing is bad.
Protecting kabuki is pitiful for the Japanese. If you preserve kabuki, there’s
no way that the Japanese theatre will progress democratically. It will all be
your fault.”
Bowers told me that he answered, “ ‘Is that so? Isn’t kabuki a great
theatre?’ Hijikata replied that kabuki was a feudal remnant of the past and
added that as long as I was censor, Japan would never reach democracy.”
When I asked Bowers to explain kabuki’s artistic value, he responded,
“That’s like asking why Beethoven is great. It’s the same as asking what’s
great about Shakespeare? If England had been defeated in the war and
Hitler had ridden into London and declared that Shakespeare was banned,
how do you think the English would have reacted? Such art can’t be pro-
hibited; it must be allowed. Kabuki is a world-class theatre and has equal
value with Shakespeare.”
Senda, however, observed:

I have no objection to keeping kabuki as a traditional art, one of the

world’s rare curios. However, when it comes to regarding it as a Japa-
nese classic in the same sense as the dramas of Shakespeare and Molière
are classics in the West, to its being the mainstream of modern Japa-
nese drama, or to judging shingeki by kabuki eyes—to all that I am un-
equivocally opposed. . . . Kabuki is a bizarre theatre, a barren flower
yanked from the heart of world culture and forced to bloom in the back-
woods, something that evolved quite abnormally into a distorted side-
show because of feudal pressures placed on it during the long period of
Japan’s isolation from the outside world. . . . Instead, it is an object of
pathology . . . to be put on display in a museum.5

Senda also wrote:

There is absolutely no literary value in its scripts. They have no inte-

grated consistency, their authors hold cheap attitudes toward human
 Kabuki’s Suffering Ends 105

life, and one cannot find anywhere in them common sense or deep
thought about human life. . . . Kabuki is feudalistic but its plays do not
even depict the feudalistic world as it was. . . . Everything is abnormal,
sick, and nothing can be done. In brief, it is bizarre.6

Such harsh ridicule reminds one of what they used to shout out-
side old-time temple festival sideshows: “The parents’ karma will visit the
children. . . .”
Doing battle with kabuki was a mission of Senda and many other
modern theatre advocates. He thought kabuki had been around too long
and that its continued existence prevented healthier theatre forms from
superseding it. This was especially true, he felt, during the years of shingeki’s
emergence in the early twentieth century.
Kawatake Toshio, on the other hand, wrote, obviously alluding to
Senda: “Some people say, ‘there should be a great fight to make or break
kabuki,’ but why in the world is it necessary for there to be such anger
toward kabuki? There is no reason today to fear kabuki.”7 He continued:

Kabuki produced “scenes of fascination” (t
sui no ba), which are, in prin-

cipal, one of the absolute conditions for the formation of theatre.
. . . The form achieved at its peak by kabuki, which can be called “the
monster of style” (y
shiki no bakemono), cannot be realized in modern
drama. Even if its existence is museumlike, it is an artistic object lead-
ing to the human appreciation of a beauty that has reached perfection
in a particular direction. It is in this sense that it should be valued and
preserved. . . . It is a rare object of appreciation for both Japanese and
foreigners, who should be able to revel in and be charmed by its fasci-
nations. And this is both natural and good.8

Senda insisted that kabuki had no literary value. He abominated

kabuki because of what he saw as its playwrights’ “cheap” attitude toward
human existence and their inability to think deeply. The notion that
kabuki is devoid of intellectual qualities is an established one with very lit-
tle room for opposing viewpoints. In his essay, Kawatake wrote:

Kabuki, which existed under the feudalistic system of the Edo era, was
based on and created by the artless “taste” (shik
) of the common
people, who had not awakened to their own self- and class-conscious-
ness. New topics were immediately dramatized and the social atmo-
sphere was vividly depicted. This took, however, not the form of dramas
that thoroughly reflected the ideas and will of the people but multi-
farious plot devices (shuk
) combined with momentary and limited
“taste.”9
106 Kabuki’s Suffering Ends

It must be said, though, that even the reasons that Bowers gave
for the liberation of kabuki depended greatly on this nonintellectuality.
Despite his interpretations involving ambivalent samurai, antiwar themes,
antisamurai attitudes, pessimistic viewpoints, the immutability of life, and
so on, his granting of permission for performance rested on such artistic
conditions as all-star and full-length productions.
But putting aside the individual interpretations of plays to which he
pointed, Bowers held two unvarying philosophies regarding kabuki. As he
informed me,

One is that kabuki is a drama of perfect stylized beauty and not an

intellectual theatre. Its stylized beauty is unique in the world and it is a
historically valuable, perfect cultural inheritance. The second is that
kabuki is a traditional art with no intellectual influence on the Japa-
nese people. Moreover, it is the Japanese people’s history, and if it
were to be lost, so would be the roots of their own history. Retaining
kabuki also means that the Japanese will not lose their own history.

As Santha Rama Rau was quoted in Chapter 5, seeing kabuki allows

us to know Japan’s cultural and historical heritage because it puts us in
touch with the people’s “emotional history,” teaching us what they meant
by “loyalty, morality, immorality, and honor . . . and what one should give
one’s life for.”
While inclined to believe in kabuki’s poverty of ideas, its low literary
quality, and its nonrealistic properties, Bowers rightfully acknowledged
kabuki’s perfection as a beautiful art object. Kabuki is vulgar, indecent, flam-
boyantly erotic, and occasionally undisciplined and irrational. But within
it is theatre’s indispensable catharsis. Today’s audience may no longer be
able to experience this catharsis, but it must have been experienced by
audiences of the past.
Interestingly, in his later years, Senda, that anti-kabuki rebel, greatly
revised his thinking. “I took a somewhat adversarial position toward Japan’s
traditional theatre, which I saw as a rival to my own work. . . . My attitude
toward Japan’s previous theatre had been quite one-sided, and I can’t escape
blame for having been in thrall to Western influences.”10
Senda gives his reasons for having “ridiculed kabuki and Peking opera”:

The process of dramatic development, from imitative dances to orga-

nized plays with dialogue can be seen in any country. In Japan and
China, however, because of long-standing feudal oppression, this pro-
cess was impeded from its natural development, leading to mutated
theatre forms possessed of unusually complex stylistic details. I thought
 Kabuki’s Suffering Ends 107

that these premature theatre forms were nothing but cheap sideshows
that had been seasoned with everything untheatrical and boiled in the
pot of feudalism.11

Senda began to think that artistic movements could not ignore the
long-time traditions cultivated by various peoples. In his mid-fifties, he
wrote: “From now on I am going to study n
and kabuki seriously and see
whether I can participate in the creation of ‘Asian theatre in which there is
socialist realism.’ ”12
I do not intend to argue against the general view that kabuki is a per-
fected theatrical form of stylized beauty and is not an intellectual drama.
But, as critic Miyake Shtar
observed, it remains possible to consider it a
beautiful drama of ideas. Resorting to some of the same ideas explored by
Bowers, he wrote, for example:

I believe that it was because of the artistic quality and humanity in

Genz
’s speech about the difficulty of a samurai’s serving his lord that
the Occupation Army recently permitted the production of “Terakoya,”
which Sh
chiku had voluntarily stopped presenting. Those kabuki actors
who changed this important antifeudal line—which redeems the play
from its feudalistic shackles—to a militaristic one, should be ashamed
of themselves.13

Miyake explained that Genz
’s full line, “It is an unenviable lot to be

in service to a lord,” is an ancient maxim. Miyake added that because it
reveals Genz
’s humanity, it is supportive of feudal society. Moreover, he
noted, it was partly on account of this speech that it became possible to
produce the play. Miyake also stated:

In addition, when it comes to “Kumagai Jinya,” the hero is a refined

man who learns the meaning of “pathos” (mono no aware) from fight-
ing.14 In other words, he is able to understand simultaneously the
completely opposing notions of the samurai fighting spirit and pathos.
From that perspective, his emotional ambivalence can be said to be that
of an artist. Yoshitsune, who permits him to become a priest, is also a
fine example of ambivalence (which is why he is hated by Yoritomo).
. . . When we talk of kabuki’s ambivalent warriors, we mean those with
a delicate emotional sensibility who understand both sides of an issue.
And we may also say therefore that they are men of culture and artists.
Or they are Hamlet-like skeptics who understand loyalty and patri-
otism while also understanding overreaching loyalty and patriotism.
Their ambivalence approaches humanism and they possess “sympathy”
for the weak.15
108 Kabuki’s Suffering Ends

Miyake, in criticism written just after Sugawara was liberated from

censorship, declared: “A miracle really has occurred in kabuki,” whose
meaning he summarized as follows:

Actually, the country died and kabuki did not. Is there any other way
to describe this than as a miracle? However, this phenomenon ulti-
mately is the result of a “critical power” that views Japanese culture
correctly. What about the foolishness of the previous censorship of
Japanese drama? To us who knew it, we truly bow our heads before
the “critical ability” or “assessment” of today’s theatrical culture. I
believe that the fact that the country died but kabuki did not is hon-
estly due to the help of eyes that see such high theatrical culture.16

This is clearly an allusion to Bowers, whom Miyake was able to meet

a half-year before the latter left Japan. Miyake wrote in Engeki Tech
(The-
atre Guidebook) of Bowers’s critique of Shunkan: “I felt that this was truly
outstanding criticism.” He then reported:

This American officer cum kabuki connoisseur, in addition to really

praising “Kumagai Jinya,” said the timing (ma) of Kumagai’s hanamichi
entrance (de) was perfectly in tune with the narrative-musical accom-
paniment (chobo) of chanter and shamisen player. . . . Bowers’s idea
was to praise the giday narrative’s skillful way of adjusting its timing
to match the pacing of the actor’s hanamichi action. To me, someone
who is always saying the same kind of thing about kabuki, it was a
pleasant surprise to know that true artistry can be understood univer-
sally, beyond national boundaries.17

Miyake, who was so happy with the revival of kabuki and the puppet
theatre that he begged Bowers to remain in Japan, offered these words on
the postwar kabuki controversy:

Kabuki is, after all, “a weed growing in a field,” for which refinement
or cultivation would be useless, as would rationalization or debate. . . .
Kabuki is a “tenement art,” a “people’s friend,” to be enjoyed simply
and its beauty seen with no need for logic. . . . Kabuki is an art that em-
braces both the beauty and ugliness of man.18

Regardless of whether kabuki is good or bad, its fate has been to thus
attract the world’s attention and also be exposed to harsh criticism.

h,H
 Kabuki’s Suffering Ends 109

As we have seen, because of Bowers, Sugawara was produced in May 1947

at the T
ky
Gekij
. GHQ policies regarding kabuki had made a complete
turnabout. On September 22, 1945, three weeks after the Occupation
began, the directive given to representatives of the film and theatre indus-
tries had begun with an exclusionary statement: “Kabuki drama, with its
feudalistic codes of loyalty and its treatment of revenge, is not suitable for
the modern world.” A cold and hostile wind chilled the kabuki milieu.
Bowers’s appearance at this juncture could be likened to the sun breaking
through the clouds.
Was there no criticism of or opposition to Bowers’s procedures within
GHQ? Bowers asserted, “No one said a word. Not once. Everyone knew
that I had been Gen. MacArthur’s aide before I became head censor. They
knew I was close to him. Therefore, my new job was nothing special and
not a soul interfered with me. Everything was okay, and I did as I pleased.”
His past at MacArthur’s side put a damper on everyone around him.
MacArthur’s authority lived on in him even after he became chief censor.
He noted, “The other Americans knew nothing about kabuki, so I was free
to act on my own. If I said okay, then everyone said okay. Uncondition-
ally.” The American staffs at CI&E and CCD were unable to take issue with
Bowers’s knowledge of kabuki. They accepted and followed his policies
and devised no others.
Bowers was careful, though. He did not free kabuki in one fell swoop
but gradually, a step at a time, showing consideration for GHQ. “I parceled
it out bit by bit. A complete, sudden change was out of the question. I did
it slowly, so as not to embarrass the Americans.”
Following the granting of permission for Sugawara in May 1947 came
Suzugamori and Sessh Gapp
ga Tsuji in July. Suzugamori tells of Shirai Gon-
pachi, who leaves his hometown and becomes a fugitive after killing his
uncle. While fleeing toward Edo, he is attacked at the Suzugamori execu-
tion grounds by a band of palanquin bearers and fights them in a stage
battle (tachimawari). Banzui Ch
bei, a “street knight” (otokodate), witnesses
the fight and is deeply impressed with Gonpachi’s skill. He promises to look
after him. The scene is famous for its comical effects in which body parts
are sliced off the assailants.
In Sessh Gapp
ga Tsuji, mentioned in Chapter 5, Tamate Gozen, a
young second wife, loves handsome Shuntokumaru, who, as her husband’s
son by a previous wife, is her own stepchild. The play therefore has a
Phédre-like theme of incest or forbidden love.
In November, Bowers approved Meiboku Sendai Hagi and the “Mori-
tsuna Jinya” scene of mi Genji Senjin Yakata. The first, described in Chapter
5, is based on a succession dispute (oie s
d
) within the Date clan and fea-
110 Kabuki’s Suffering Ends

tures the great onnagata role of Masaoka, young lord Tsuruchiyo’s nurse-
maid. “Moritsuna Jinya,” like “Kumagai Jinya,” contains the use of a sub-
stitution for a head inspection as well as the seppuku of a boy, Koshir
.
Moritsuna is a superb but ambivalent warrior who must deceive his lord
and master.

h,H
On August 23, 1947, an American educational advisory group came to
Japan on a study tour and visited the Tsubouchi Memorial Theatre
Museum at Waseda University. Yoneyama Kazuo of CCD accompanied the
group and brought a message to Prof. Kawatake Shigetoshi from Bowers.
According to Kawatake, Bowers wrote: “I intend to grant permission for
Chshingura to be performed in the near future. So as not to cut anything,
what do you think of a full-length production given over two days?”
Kawatake answered that he thanked Bowers very much for allowing the
production, but that, given contemporary living conditions, it was not a
good idea to stage a two-day program.19 Yoneyama recalls that “I asked the
professor whether, if the final scene of attack were cut, it would not influ-
ence the overall effect. The professor said it would not and I returned with
this to Bowers.”
There are eleven acts in Chshingura. As with Sugawara, Bowers
wanted the play to be produced as fully as possible. But Chshingura would
require two days to stage uncut. Bowers, after learning Kawatake’s response,
chose to compromise by using the one-day, two-part approach, in which
something was removed. This is the standard approach to “full-length”
revivals, from which something is inevitably trimmed. Thus, the first nine
acts were performed, and the last two—Act X, the “Amikawaya” scene,
and Act XI, the “K
ke Omotemon Uchiiri/Sumibeya Honkai” scene—were
dropped.
Act X depicts the loyalty of the Sakai merchant Amikawaya Gihei
to the cause of the vengeance-seeking forty-seven samurai. He has been
supplying arms for their vendetta, and the scene depicts how he comes
through with flying colors when his loyalty is tested. It does not, however,
advance the main dramatic action, to which Gihei serves as a peripheral
figure. Act XI is essentially a series of choreographed fights and is notable
for its spectacle of the identically dressed samurai—each wearing a different
letter of the Japanese syllabary—attacking their enemy’s mansion in the
snow. With the death of the evil Moronao, the play achieves closure, so its
removal requires the audience to leave the theatre with the understanding
that the vendetta eventually was achieved despite its not having been
shown. The audience’s deep familiarity with the story—perhaps the most
 Kabuki’s Suffering Ends 111

Figure 12 Onoe Kikugor
VI as Kanpei in Act VI of

Chshingura. (Photograph courtesy of Faubion Bowers.)

famous of the Tokugawa period both inside Japan and out—and the use of
program notes could effectively have handled this problem.
On August 27, four days after the visit of the American group, Kawa-
take called on Bowers at CCD to learn the secret of Chshingura’s cast list.
Matsumoto K
shir
VII would play the leader of the vendetta, boshi Yura-
nosuke. Onoe Kikugor
VI would play both the villain K
no Moronao and
the handsome young samurai, Hayano Kanpei, who was dallying with
his girlfriend when he should have been at the side of his master, Lord
Enya Hangan. Nakamura Kichiemon I would be the young samurai, Momoi
112 Kabuki’s Suffering Ends

Wakasanosuke, as well as Teraoka Heiemon, one of Lord Hangan’s faithful

retainers. Nakamura Tokiz
III was Okaru, Kanpei’s girlfriend, who is later
sold into prostitution. Nakamura Baigyoku III was the tragic daimyo, Enya
Hangan, and Tonase, mother of Konami, betrothed of Yuranosuke’s son,
boshi Rikiya. And Sawamura S
jr
VII would act Lady Kaoyo, Enya
Hangan’s wife. The younger actors included Nakamura Shikan VI (today’s
Utaemon VI) as Konami, Onoe Baik
VII as boshi Rikiya, and Onoe Sh

roku II as Sagisaka Bannai, a comic villain. This Dai-Chshingura (Great Ch
shingura), as it was called, was unparalleled and is still talked of in today’s
kabuki circles as a kind of theatrical summit.
Because Bowers’s authority exceeded that of Sh
chiku chairman
tani Takejir
, the American censor was able to overcome tani’s reluc-
tance and to summon the great Osaka star, Baigyoku, to appear in the play.
This created a problem, though. Because of food shortages, people were re-
quired to have a ration book for their rice. As a resident of Osaka, Baigyoku
was unable to obtain rice in Tokyo. The production would run for an entire
month. Without his rice ration, Baigyoku could not survive. When Sh

chiku appealed on his behalf, Bowers solved the dilemma by immediately
buying a bushel of rice on the black market and sending it to Baigyoku’s
dressing room. It also ended tani’s excuses for “economizing” on actors.
It was thus that Chshingura came to be staged at the T
ky
Gekij
in
November 1947.
The banning of two-thirds of kabuki’s potential repertory by GHQ had
come about when it was decided that these plays were an obstacle to the
Occupation policy’s principal goal, democratization. To GHQ, the greatest
kabuki hindrance to democratization was Chshingura. It was surely this
play that GHQ had in mind when it issued its September 22, 1945, regula-
tory directive, stating that kabuki’s feudalistic loyalty and revenge themes
made it unsuitable for the contemporary world. The Japanese theatre
world had been admonished that a people who produced plays of revenge
in which individuals take the law into their own hands would never be
able to understand modern international relations.
Allowing this play was virtually the same as permitting any and all
kabuki. Permission for Chshingura meant the death knoll of kabuki
censorship as part of Occupation policy. In other words, it liberated kabuki.
Bowers explained his motives in his report titled “The Censorship System
and the Situation of Today’s Japanese Theatre.”
The focus of his argument was kabuki’s stylized beauty. He went to
great lengths, in sometimes awkward Japanese, to speak of the “purpose
of censorship.” He pointed out that kabuki, “being based on artistry, has to
be given special indulgence.” Thus, he concluded, “it is a theatre of purely
 Kabuki’s Suffering Ends 113

artistic effect. What overwhelms people are plays performed by outstand-

ing artists.”
This alluded to Bowers’s policy of demanding Sh
chiku’s best actors.
He spoke of kabuki being more than merely a form of Japanese theatre and
emphasized it as an art belonging to world theatre:

Again, theatrical censorship bears a certain responsibility in that the

artistic value of Japanese theatre is recognized worldwide. If the arts of
n
and kabuki were to be heartlessly and recklessly censored, not only
would there be a hue and cry in countries other than Japan, but the
Occupation policy to preserve Japanese art would be replaced by artistic
vandalism. N
was completely without censorship and Osaka’s bunraku
has recently been allowed to produce its entire repertory. Kabuki has a
highly feudalistic nature and is very popular to boot so it presents a
unique censorship problem.20

Bowers wanted to prevent America from being the fool that destroyed
Japan’s traditional art:

It is understood that the Occupation’s kabuki censorship system has

come to where it is today through a process of trial and error. The mili-
tary authorities in Japan still do not understand it deep in their hearts
but they have noticed that if this historical art, which has many ad-
mirers in the West, is damaged, it will die of suffocation. In other words,
if kabuki is mishandled it will invite the same severe criticism that Hitler
got for banning Mendelssohn and Heine, and there will simply be a
backlash in international relations and the art world.21

Because of Bowers’s love of kabuki, these words could be interpreted as

more threat than persuasion. In any case, Bowers achieved all of his objec-
tives. Two years after the “Terakoya” incident—during which GHQ’s strict-
ness had so hemmed in kabuki that, for a time, it teetered on the brink—
kabuki threw off its shackles and was free. Its suffering was over.

h,H
Nagayama Takeomi, the current head of Sh
chiku, was first hired by the
company on October 1, 1947, when he was put to work as a night watch-
man at the T
ky
Gekij
. A month later came Chshingura. He told me,
“Chshingura was released for production when I was taking my first steps
with Sh
chiku. It was wildly popular. Tickets were immediately sold out
for the entire run. Lines formed all night long at the box office for tickets.
My job was to deal with these lines, to organize them. I remember it fondly.”
114 Kabuki’s Suffering Ends

Two years and three months after the end of the war, in the Tsukiji
section of dreary, fire-ravaged Tokyo, long lines of ticket buyers snaking
twice around the T
ky
Gekij
suddenly appeared as people stood through
the night waiting for the box office to open for the next day’s Chshingura.
People who earned 1,800 yen a month paid scalpers up to 1,000 yen for a
ticket, while first-class seats sold at the box office for 120 yen, second-class
for 80 yen, and third-class for 60 yen. On November 29, the day following
the closing, selected scenes were shown to the empress and the emperor’s
mother, their first visit ever to kabuki. This three-and-a-half-century-old
theatre could once more hold its head high.
Conclusion
All arts have an unhappy relationship with politics. Literature has been
the most persecuted of all. As can be seen from the postwar debate between
literature and politics, especially that concerning the proletarian art move-
ment, politics holds ascendancy over art. Politics wants art to be its hand-
maiden. Not only literature, but painting, music, sculpture, and theatre have
a history of being oppressed.
Occupation censorship exposed the strained relationship between
politics and art. It was strict and thorough. According to Robert M. Spaul-
ding, the monthly total of material coming in to the Press, Pictorial, and
Broadcast section of the Civil Censorship Detachment (CCD) totaled “26,000
issues of newspapers, 3,800 news-agency publications, 23,000 radio scripts,
5,700 printed bulletins, 4,000 magazine issues, and 1,800 books and pam-
phlets.”1 Moreover, says John W. Dower, CCD spot-checked, during its four-
year tenure, “330 million pieces of mail and monitored some 800,000 pri-
vate phone conversations.”2
The new Japanese constitution was promulgated on May 3, 1947.
Japan began its postwar nation-building under this document’s stipula-
tions. Article 21 specifies: “Freedom of assembly and association as well as
speech, press and all other forms of expression are guaranteed. . . . No cen-
sorship shall be maintained, nor shall the secrecy of any means of commu-
nication be violated.”3
The liberation of Ch
shingura in October 1947 was the end of kabuki
censorship. However, censorship continued in other fields of artistic expres-
sion, such as film, until the signing of the peace treaty with Japan on April

115
116 Conclusion

28, 1952, which ended the Occupation. On paper, the Japanese constitution
—essentially an American document—had ended censorship on May 3,
1947. Such a tricky coexistence of reality and ideal constituted a contradic-
tion, which could only be understood by explaining that MacArthur’s supra-
legal power and Japan’s limited sovereign power were present at the same
time.

h,H
In his February 23, 1946, Asahi Shinbun article, Bowers remarked: “I was
amazed to read in the newspaper that history plays, domestic plays, Moku-
ami plays, and so on, were going to be removed from the stage”; “ ‘Kuma-
gai Jinya’ is antimilitarist”; banning kabuki “means the death of a great art
and should truly be lamented.”
If Japan were carrying out Occupation policies somewhere and the
Japanese person in charge behaved like Bowers, would his countrymen
allow him to do so? I do not think so. The Japanese would feel as if they
had a viper in their bosom. Even though he excused himself as “a kabuki
lover,” Bowers made a frontal attack on his country’s Occupation policies.
If the situation were Japanese, he would have been considered dis-
honorable, a man who had repaid kindness with cruelty, and whose pre-
posterous actions had brought disgrace upon GHQ. He would have been
fired. It has to be admitted that the American authorities showed great
generosity in accepting Bowers’s bold conduct.
Santha Rama Rau’s East of Home contains the following observation
from the Chinese communist leader Ma Bu-fang, whom she met during
her travels through Asia with Bowers: “When you crusade for your form
of government, does it never occur to any of you that what is suited to
Americans may not be suited to others? Perhaps it meets your needs. Do
you never wonder whether it meets ours?”4 Elsewhere, she quotes the
Balinese Anuk Agung Anom: “Even if the white man is prepared to relin-
quish other superiorities, he still feels that his ‘way of living’ is better, and
he will force or cajole us into learning it.”5
MacArthur never doubted that what was good for Americans was
good for Japan. Bowers always doubted that what was good for Americans
was good for anyone. Therefore, his words often seem masochistic: “We
tried to make Asia our allies without noticing that the worst way was by
making them follow us.”
In 1940, at twenty-three, Bowers left his native America to study
gamelan in the Netherlands East Indies. Sixty years ago, there probably were
few if any other Americans interested in studying such music. When Bowers
—after receiving the finest piano training at Juilliard in New York, and at
 Conclusion 117

the University of Poitiers in France—turned toward Indonesian music, he

already had abandoned thoughts of cultural superiority.
Bowers followed in the steps of Lafcadio Hearn, with whose writings
he had first become acquainted as a teenager. Hearn (1850–1904) was a
Greek-born English writer who, after establishing a career in American
journalism, went to Japan in 1890. He married Koizumi Fushiko, daughter
of an old samurai family from Matsue, and was naturalized in 1896, even
taking a Japanese name, Koizumi Yakumo. His prolific contributions are
still widely read and studied for their profound insight and understanding
of old Japan and its tortured transition to a modern, Western-influenced
nation.
Bowers, like Hearn, did not believe—as did so many prewar West-
erners—that Asia’s modernization meant Westernization and Christian-
ization, a process that led to many missionaries being sent throughout
Asia. Hearn despised the West’s greed and arrogance, its vulgar materialism
and mechanization. He considered as inferior barbarians those Westerners
who entertained not the slightest doubts about their own preeminence.
Hearn’s presence can be seen in many of Bowers’s words and deeds. For
example, Hearn noted in “A Conservative”:

Even to-day in the West unthinking millions imagine some divine con-
nection between military power and Christian belief; and utterances
are made in our pulpits implying divine justification for political rob-
beries, and heavenly inspiration for the invention of high explosives.
There still survives among us the superstition that races professing
Christianity are divinely destined to rob or exterminate races holding
other beliefs.6

Years afterward, during his tenure as a member of the Occupation

army, Bowers expressed similar thoughts in the dressing room of his friend,
kabuki actor Nakamura Kichiemon I:

Does any colonizer understand the people he tries to colonize? You can
only be a successful colonist if you believe that your civilization, cul-
ture, religion, way of life—anything—are superior. The minute you start
to understand the other people you are no longer sure.7

It is not easy to come to grips with the depth of the affection Faubion
Bowers felt for the Japanese and Japan. One of the things I gleaned from
him when I asked him why it is that he was someone who held not civil-
ization but culture as the highest value.
Bowers believed that spiritual culture has the greatest value. Be it
118 Conclusion

music, theatre, art, or literature, he loved those who view these things
with a traditional and delicate sense of appreciation. He found this among
the Japanese and particularly in the traditional world of kabuki.
Those without such artistic sensitivity were likely to be the object of
Bowers’s distaste. Among this group was Gen. MacArthur. While respect-
ing Gen. MacArthur for his political skills as SCAP, Bowers also reserved
a portion of contempt for the man, saying, “MacArthur was a cultural
ignoramus. He never went to the theatre. He never heard a symphony or
orchestra. The only book he ever opened was the Bible. All he saw were
movies.”
In the postwar period, thousands of young Americans came to Japan
to work for GHQ. Bowers recalled their culture shock. “To these young
Americans, not only was Japan the first foreign country they’d visited; it
was also the first time they’d come in contact with an older culture.”
What most astonished Lafcadio Hearn about the Japanese was the
refinement of their sense of beauty. He wrote with amazement about such
Japanese things as flower arranging and the music of insects. In “The Chief
City of the Province of the Gods,” Hearn noted:

For the Japanese do not brutally chop off flower-heads to work up

meaningless masses of color, as we barbarians do: they love nature too
well for that; they know how much the natural charm of the flower
depends upon its setting and mounting, its relation to leaf and stem,
and they select a single graceful branch or spray just as nature made it.
At first, you will not, as a Western stranger, comprehend such an exhi-
bition at all: you are yet a savage in such matters. . . . [But ultimately]
you will feel humbled by the discovery that all flower displays you
have ever seen abroad were only monstrosities in comparison with the
natural beauty of those few simple sprays.8

As Hearn pointed out, the Japanese were aware of the means for turning
life itself into art.
In speaking to Bowers of his cultural sensibility, of his feelings for
Japan, I realized that something of Hearn resided in him. When faced with
Japanese culture, these men shared a skepticism toward materialistic civil-
ization. However, Hearn noticed that even the refined Japanese and their
culture would sooner or later have to be “baptized” in civilization. He
lamented that Japan would have to study foreign science and other ele-
ments of materialistic civilization and was upset by the rapid changes he
saw occurring all around him in Meiji Japan, not merely in outward ap-
pearances but in feelings and attitudes.
 Conclusion 119

Bowers came to Japan a half-century after Hearn and, naturally, the

culture he discovered was considerably changed from that experienced by
his predecessor. Still, Bowers found in Japan something beautiful that he
had lacked in America. Perhaps this “something” was a polished grace pos-
sessed by prewar Japanese people and culture, a total refinement, a high
quality hidden under a veneer of reserve and discretion. It is regrettable
but, as Hearn feared, today all these past virtues have virtually disappeared
from Japan, although Bowers did not find it so.
In “A Conservative,” Hearn wrote about a nineteenth-century Japa-
nese abroad who compared his experiences of the West with the world of
Japan:

Surely the old Japanese civilization of benevolence and duty was in-
comparably better in its comprehension of happiness, in its moral am-
bitions, its large faith, its joyous courage, its simplicity and unselfish-
ness, its sobriety and contentment.9

When Bowers first arrived in Japan, such qualities remained, but surely
only in scattered fragments. The Japanese nature, judgment, and way of
dealing with the world lived on, but clearly only in bits and pieces. It was
these elements in the Japanese spirit that Bowers loved; today, one can
confirm their existence in the world of kabuki.
Unlike Hearn, who even took a Japanese name, Bowers never went
in for living Japanese-style. This, in fact, endeared him to actor Matsu-
moto K
shir
IX, who was impressed by how Bowers kept his enormous
fondness for Japan separate from his Western lifestyle. K
shir
admits to
feeling uncomfortable when confronted by foreigners who become so
absorbed in Japanese culture that they dress, eat, and, having mastered
the language, even speak in traditional ways that make the Japanese feel
self-conscious.
K
shir
appreciates foreigners like Bowers who do not curry favor
with their Japanese counterparts and maintain a relationship in which
they acknowledge mutual differences and preserve their own particular
qualities. Different peoples can thus relate to one another based on an
understanding of their mutual cultural systems. For over a half-century,
Bowers continued to have such a relationship with kabuki. Bowers said, “I
think the key to my familiarity with kabuki or Japan comes from my not
living there. It’s all right to take in Japanese things and blend in with
them, but being taken in by them is wrong. If I’d lived in Japan for a while
and made my living because of my knowledge of Japanese and kabuki, I
120 Conclusion

wouldn’t have been able to have the kind of good relationships I have. I
think such a life would have been awful for me. I’ve kept America as my
base and have gone back and forth to Japan.”

h,H
Even now, over half a century after the Occupation began, kabuki actors—
especially the senior ones—think of Bowers reverently. K
shir
IX was
one who enjoyed an especially warm relationship with him. There is a
photograph of K
shir
at the time of his debut, along with his father, the
late Matsumoto Haku
(previously known as Matsumoto K
shir
VIII),
and Bowers. K
shir
IX was three years and eight months old when he
debuted as Matsumoto Kintar
in May 1946 at the T
ky
Gekij
. In the
photograph, the self-possessed young Kintar
is wearing his costume as
the medicine peddler in Sukeroku, and sitting on the laps of his costumed
father and a smiling, uniformed Bowers.
K
shir
remembers:

Kabuki dressing rooms always smelled of rice-powder makeup (oshiroi)

and pomade for wigs, which pervaded the place. Into this unique atmo-
sphere came the blue-eyed Bowers in his Army uniform. He visited
backstage almost every day. And when he did, surrounding only him
was—well, how shall I put it—was what you could call the aroma of a
Westerner, yeah, a Westerner’s aroma, which was very different from
the way Japanese smelled. This blue-eyed officer coming backstage pre-
sented a weird sight, even for a young kid.

Bowers’s uniform pockets were crammed with candy, which he gave out
to the actors. “I got chewing gum and chocolate,” says K
shir
. “Then, once,
he gave me a ride in his Jeep. It was my first time in a Jeep. It had no
cushions and the seats were naked metal frames, so it hurt your butt when
you got jogged about. The top had been taken down all the way, so the
wind was right in our faces. I can’t remember well if Bowers or some sol-
dier did the driving but, anyway, I remember him giving me a ride all the
way from my home to the T
ky
Gekij
in Tsukiji.”
K
shir
, speaking in 1998, while Bowers was still alive, states: “From
the viewpoint of Japanese theatre history, when kabuki was purged, Bowers
was the reason it continued and thus he became its great benefactor. Apart
from this, he is the first American I ever had such a deep, personal rela-
tionship with.” He adds:

At any rate, he saw my debut, saw my ‘name-taking’10 performance

when I became Ichikawa Somegor
(I was in the first grade and was
 Conclusion 121

six), saw me when I went to New York and played the lead in Man of
La Mancha in English,11 and was there to see me when I changed my
name from Somegor
to K
shir
in 1981. This means that Bowers is
the only living person to see me from my debut through my Broadway
performances, and including my becoming Somegor
and K
shir
. I
don’t think there are any Japanese who can say this.

I ask K
shir
what would have happened to kabuki if Bowers had

not been with the Occupation in 1946, the year that K
shir
debuted?
“What would have happened? It would have been the end of kabuki,” he
answers. When I ask him if it would really have disappeared, he responds,
“Yes, it probably would have. You know, my grandfather—my grandfather
Harimaya [Kichiemon I]—always said so, but, in the end, anyway, GHQ
demanded that it not contain all those things like vendettas, extreme pa-
triotism, loyalty to one’s lord, and so on. Those things, though, are essen-
tially what kabuki is all about. So it would have meant, in fact, that kabuki
couldn’t exist.”
K
shir
feels that Bowers was a messenger sent by the gods of the-
atre. “This is what I think, although it is not easy to understand and maybe
I’m going too far. It was as if the gods spoke through Bowers and told him
to please let kabuki continue. I really think it was the work of the gods.”

h,H
While the respect that Bowers gained for his efforts on behalf of kabuki’s
continuance can be appreciated, it is also important to note the admiration
that kabuki stars had for his critical perceptions and advice on their acting.
Nakamura Tomijr
V (b. 1929) was sixteen when the war ended. How-
ever, he was living in Kansai (the Kyoto-Osaka area), so he did not actu-
ally meet Bowers until kabuki played in New York in 1979:

I had heard about him and what truly pleased me was that no sooner
had he arrived in Japan at Atsugi after the war than he asked if some
famous actor or another was still alive. I thought that if such a person
had come with MacArthur, then kabuki would be all right. I heard most
of this later, though.

One of the plays being performed during Tomijr
’s tour was Shunkan.
The priest Shunkan, along with Fujiwara Naritsune and Taira no Yasuyori,
has been exiled to the distant island of Kikaigashima (Devil’s Island, the
present Iwo Jima), for plotting against Taira no Kiyomori, a wicked ruler.
After considerable time has passed, the boat from the capital bearing their
pardons arrives. But Shunkan is not permitted to embark, and he watches
122 Conclusion

in torment from the top of a hill as the boat departs for the capital, leaving
him alone, abandoned, on the island.
When the play opened in New York, the late Nakamura Kanzabur

XVII played Shunkan, but during the run, when Kanzabur
had to return
to Japan, Tomijr
took over the role, this being his first performance of it.
He thus made his debut as Shunkan before a New York audience. “When I
came to take over the part, I was very, very apprehensive,” he recalls.
Bowers visited Tomijr
at this point. He told him: “Please do it just
as you would at the Kabuki-za. Don’t think that just because you’re per-
forming for Americans you have to act so they understand it. Don’t change
it, don’t cater to them. Do it the same as usual.” Tomijr
adds, “He was
very insistent. I was strongly encouraged.”
Bowers gave him only one instruction. At the climax, the onstage
narrator chants the phrase, “Omoikitte mo bonpushin,” literally, “Even though
resigned, my feelings are an ordinary man’s.” “In this section, Shunkan
tries to follow the boat again, plunging into the tide water, represented by
a trick ground cloth that rushes at him down the hanamichi. “Please em-
phasize what the narrator’s words mean at that moment. Please make
Shunkan’s humanity very apparent.”
Tomijr
says, “I think that Bowers was talking about the importance
of the actor’s physical expression in relation to playwright Chikamatsu’s
words. In this scene, Shunkan, seeing the ship headed back for the capital,
has given up hope and realizes that it’s all over. Still, because his feelings
are those of an ordinary man, he cannot help following the ship, heart and
soul. The words, ‘Even though resigned, my feelings are an ordinary man’s,’
express the human mind’s illogicality. Even if Shunkan has resigned him-
self, he can’t help trying to follow the ship because he misses his friends so
deeply. This was Bowers’s point. He was demonstrating that the actor must
display the meaning of the words.”
Tomijr
adds, “As for traditional stage business (kata), Shunkan hasn’t
any dramatic poses here. All he does is look at the boat. He just chases after
the boat and there are no special kata. He just runs, which requires no
skill. Yes, that’s why what matters is the feeling you put into the ‘omoikitte
mo bonpushin’ moment.”
Shunkan, this older man in ragged clothes, straggly hair, and un-
kempt beard, climbs up the rocky hill, leans on a pine branch, and peers
off into the distance as the boat returns to the capital. He himself will not
return in this lifetime. He can only wither away, on this lonely island. The
curtain falls with him on a hilltop, his hopes dashed.
Every performance ended in a storm of bravos.
Tomijr
states, “I felt good that Bowers came and spoke to me. Better
 Conclusion 123

than good, I was delighted. Honestly, delighted. How much more did
kabuki’s people feel reassured by him in that period right after the war.”

h,H
The oldest kabuki star is Living National Treasure Ichimura Uzaemon XVII,
born in 1916, a year before Bowers, whom he got to know during the
Occupation. This actor, revered for his deep knowledge of kabuki history
and art, opines, “I think Faubion Bowers was kabuki’s benefactor. I believe
kabuki was first saved by T
yama Saemonnoj
and later by Faubion
Bowers.”
Uzaemon is alluding to the nineteenth-century’s Tenp
era (1830–
1841) reforms, instituted by Mizuno Tadakuni, the shogun’s minister, whose
sumptuary laws attempted to restrain the people’s luxurious ways by ban-
ning kabuki. City magistrate T
yama Saemonnoj
Kagemoto, popularly
known as T
yama no Kinsan, and famed for his cherry blossom tattoos,
spoke up, insisting that the government could not remove the people’s
pleasure. With his help, the matter was settled and kabuki, though forced
to suffer various significant restrictions, escaped prohibition.
Kabuki is not great because it is a Japanese traditional art; it is ele-
vated to traditional art because great artists perform it. Bowers always held
to this argument, a theoretical weapon he used to liberate kabuki.
Uzaemon XVII is familiar with the circumstances:

Bowers allowed kabuki to go on because Kikugor
and Kichiemon’s

acting was art. First, he gave permission so that Kikugor
and Kichie-
mon could act. Next, he told Kikugor
and Kichiemon that if they per-
formed, it would be all right for actors that they taught to do so. Thus
we, too, were able to act. So things gradually expanded and we were
able to perform as in the past. Amidst the prohibitions of the postwar
period, it was Bowers who expanded the range of permissible actors
and plays. His existence was crucial. It was especially crucial for kabuki.
That’s why I think that T
yama Saemonnoj
and Bowers were kabuki’s
two benefactors.

h,H
Bowers said in his 1946 article, “Kabuki’s greatness lies in its being above
political or feudal tendencies.” Also, “The elements of kabuki art are rooted
in its traditions.” It is true that kabuki is filled with feudal standards. How-
ever, kabuki does not exalt feudal morality; it transcends it. Feudal virtues
are no more than the social standards of a certain time and place. The
plays of the feudal period were written by playwrights who had to live
124 Conclusion

according to the standards of their day. Art’s values surpass the popular
notions of its time.
Bowers did not consider European values as universal truth. Nor did
he believe that modern Western realism was the only kind of theatre. He
knew that theatre was not merely realism that explored man’s inner work-
ings. According to his February 1946 Tky Shinbun essay, “The Western
stage is a reflection of everyday reality and has fewer artistic qualities to
boast about. In contrast, kabuki surpasses everyday life and its stage achieves
a greater height. The Western stage is a reflection of everyday reality and
has fewer qualities of which to boast.” Bowers saw in kabuki an apprecia-
tion of beauty handed down by the Japanese since antiquity.
Bowers loved kabuki lines, such as Kumagai’s “Sixteen years, like a
day. Ahh! It’s a dream, a dream,” spoken as Kumagai makes his exit after
having sacrificed his own son as a substitute for his lord’s child. No words
better express the Japanese belief in the “vanity of all things.” Bowers felt
this speech allowed one to understand the spirit of the Japanese. He noted
that “Kumagai Jinya” is to the Japanese what Hamlet is to Westerners. Be-
cause he shared its view of life’s evanescence, Bowers ended his first letter
to me with the words, “Fifty years, like a day,” meaning censorship and
the Occupation were a dream, something of the distant past.
Bowers’s thoughts on his own role are contained in his Columbia
oral history interview:

You have heard . . . that without me there wouldn’t have been Kabuki;
that’s what the Japanese often say, but it’s not true. Kabuki would
have endured despite me. The only thing I did was that under the Occu-
pation, Kabuki flowered, so that it’s a cultural credit to us as an Occu-
pation, and that no one can ever say “Those Americans stamped out a
great art, and the Japanese kept it underground and as soon as our
backs were turned, they allowed it to reflower.” That is the sum total
of all that I did.12

A bit later, he added:

Kabuki is a funny thing. The young people are not very keen on it, but
the young people are dragged there as babies . . . and . . . suddenly when
they become old men and old women, they turn back to it. . . . It is sort
of like a delayed reaction.13

This latter statement is not as valid today, when young people crowd
to see kabuki at the Kabuki-za and other theatres. More and more univer-
sities offer courses in kabuki and audiences are increasingly more knowl-
 Conclusion 125

edgeable. It may no longer be a people’s theatre, but it still shows vitality

and popularity.
Bowers said that kabuki’s sense of beauty is like a gene flowing
through the veins of the Japanese. This gene is passed on from one gener-
ation to the next. “Kabuki is Japan’s people’s history and if it were to be
lost, so would be their history. Kabuki also means Japan has its history.”
Kabuki star Ichikawa Ennosuke III told me during an interview, “As
you know, Japan has an aesthetic called honkadori [allusive variation] in
which imitation is not at all shameful and has great virtue. If there is
something good in the original, you may copy, scrape, and remake it.”
Honkadori, according to the Kjien dictionary, is the making of a poem
by borrowing terms, words, and phrases used by earlier waka, renga, or
other forms of poetry. In such cases, the official poem, the original poem,
is the honka (foundation poem). As Ennosuke said:

It is renovation through partial destruction and partial imitation, which

I think is the strength of Japanese tradition. This becomes an accumu-
lation of good things. Anyway, there is the original pattern; this is de-
stroyed and there is creation, creation that comes from treading on the
original pattern. This is, one might say, ‘pattern breaking’ (katayaburi)
creation, which I think is the ideal procedure with regard to Japan’s
performing arts.

I believe that the Japanese simply black out past history and bury it.
They do not seriously preserve their official “foundation poems” in their
original form and keep building on them with revised versions; instead,
they destroy these foundation poems. The original forms become unrecog-
nizable, and eventually neither parent nor child exists. They end up with
“pattern absence” (katanashi).
Bowers once spoke strongly against this. In 1960, kabuki made a tour
to America at the same time that the United States and Japan were com-
memorating one hundred years of friendship. One of the plays being per-
formed was Kagotsurube. Jir
zaemon, silk merchant of Sano, Shimotsuke,
pays a visit to the Yoshiwara pleasure quarters and falls in love at first sight
with the high-ranking courtesan, Yatsuhashi. He visits her nightly and
even starts to talk about ransoming her. However, he is betrayed when she
publicly turns him down, and he loses face. He rushes back to his home-
town, but returns to Edo with his famous sword, Kagotsurube, and slays
the courtesan. At the final curtain, after he also has killed a serving girl
who happened on the scene, he stares intently at the sword and, with
deep respect, stretches his vowels as he declares, “Ah, Kagotsurube, my
126 Conclusion

sword, . . . you cut well.” He stands there looking over the sword as the
curtain closes.
Kanzabur
XVII played Jir
zaemon. But there were problems. Kawa-
take Toshio, who accompanied the troupe as literary advisor, described
them for me:

On the evening following the first performance, we gathered in a res-

taurant—the actors, Sh
chiku representatives, the novelist Ariyoshi
Sawako, and myself. There had been a problem with the ending of the
play. This is where Jir
zaemon kills Yatsuhashi, looks at his Muramasa
sword, and says “Ah, Kagotsurube, my sword, . . . you cut well.” Kanza-
bur
had done this, then chuckled, and this was the ending more or
less, but someone expressed the opinion that it didn’t feel right.
Killing a woman and then laughing about it seemed rather dis-
tasteful. Would the American audience be able to accept it? This was
asked by a nervous Japanese. Japanese people always anticipate diffi-
culties. So on the second day it was changed. Now, after Kanzabur

killed Yatsuhashi, he thought it over and committed suicide. Bowers
was enraged by this.

The character of Jir
zaemon is gentle and reasonable. He woos Yatsu-

hashi with intelligence and sensitivity and is even going to redeem her.
The way she insults him is terrible. The ending of this play shows what
happens when a man like Jir
zaemon—publicly abused and humiliated by
the woman he loves—takes gruesome revenge.
The stage directions for “Ah, Kagotsurube, my sword, . . . you cut
well” say, “laughs lightly to himself” (nittari omoiire). To have him reflect
on his actions after killing Yatsuhashi and then to commit suicide mutilates
the play. As soon as this man’s heart is broken he becomes cruel and sense-
less. Eliminating this bestiality makes the play meaningless.
The Japanese psychology involved in altering the end is strikingly
similar to that which, during the war, distorted the line in “Terakoya”
about serving one’s lord. In both instances, the original playwright’s mean-
ing was changed to its complete opposite in order to toady to power or
public opinion.
Jir
zaemon’s suicide had been strongly urged by the Sh
chiku leaders.
After seeing the offending performance, Bowers dashed to the dressing
room. Kawatake Toshio says, “I remember it vividly, Bowers-san was
screaming in Japanese. You can’t do this!” he yelled. “Do it as written.
Many Americans understand kabuki. What in God’s name is this belly cut-
ting?!” The production returned to the original way.
It was a miracle that, during the Occupation, Bowers had such crit-
 Conclusion 127

ical ability regarding kabuki. The country had been destroyed, but with his
help kabuki survived. At a time when the Japanese had lost all confidence
in their own traditional art and looked on it in scorn, Bowers recognized
kabuki’s artistry. Its survival is an irony of history.
How did Bowers, with his long familiarity with kabuki, view the kabuki
world at the end of the twentieth century?

It’s a feudal world, a difficult world. Those who aren’t the sons of actors
don’t get trained. But the sons of actors, even untalented ones, get very
careful instruction.
When Kichiemon I was alive, the present K
shir
’s father [K

shir
VIII, later Haku
] was a copycat actor. He imitated Kichiemon,
his father-in-law. I didn’t like him. As soon as Kichiemon died, he
became the world’s greatest actor. I was amazed. That’s kabuki. It’s dif-
ferent from other theatres. Such is tradition!

Bowers once asked Haku
, “What will happen to kabuki when all of
today’s great actors die?” Haku
replied, “Others will appear.”
From the 1960s through the 1990s, kabuki’s American tours benefited
from Bowers’s simultaneous translation. He also did the same for modern
Japanese drama that came to New York and even did simultaneous trans-
lation for important French companies. I asked Bowers, “If you had not
been there, what would have happened regarding kabuki’s contacts with
America and the simultaneous translation of kabuki plays?” He replied,
“No one is indispensable. Somebody can always replace you.”
In May 1948, Faubion Bowers left Japan to travel throughout Asia
with Santha Rama Rau. “Kabuki was safe. I was no longer needed.”
Epilogue

The following is a letter dated May 14, 1948, and addressed to Faubion Bowers,
Chief of Theatrical Sect., PPB, CCD, SCAP, from Professor Kawatake Shigetoshi of
Waseda University. It was composed in English and typed. The letter is given exactly
as Professor Shigetoshi (or a translator) wrote it.

Dear Sir:
Having learned that you are shortly leaving Japan, we recall
with renewed appreciation the valuable services you have rendered to
the cause of art in this country.
For three years since the termination of the Pacific War Japan has
been, as it were, in a state of atrophy, with her art and culture as well
as the people’s daily life extremely unsettled and insecure. And the
traditional theatrical arts of Japan, Kabuki, Bunraku, Noh plays and
Bugaku, have been threatened with the danger of extinction because
they are a heritage of ancient Japan.
It was indeed a great delight to us that at this serious cultural
crisis we found in you a hearty sympathizer. The understanding, appre-
ciation and passionate love you showed for Japanese theatrical art were
a wonder to us. Kabuki and Bunraku were given fresh and most accu-
rate interpretation by you. You endeavored to dispel the preconceived
prejudices held against them by many of the modern Japanese, and to
make them recognized as unique branches of stage art which represent
human nature. For instance, it was solely due to your sympathetic
understanding and profound love of Japanese theatrical art that “Kan-
jinch
,” “Kumagai Jin-ya,” “Moritsuna,” and “Third Act of Adachi-ga-
hara,” as well as such complete plays as “Sugawara,” “Chshingura,”
“Yoshitsune Sembon Zakura,” “Shin Usuyuki Monogatari,” etc. could
be produced conscientiously on the Kabuki stage.
You have used your endeavors to lead the Japanese to renew
their recognition of the beauty of Kabuki. You have given encourage-
ment to Kabuki actors, lent impetus to their awakening, and provided
guidance in their study of the art. For these reasons I look up to you as
a patron of such classical arts as Kabuki, Bunraku and Noh plays, and
would like to call you a benefactor to the Japanese theatrical art in gen-

129
130 Epilogue

eral. Together with all lovers of Kabuki and as a student of Kabuki art,
I hereby present to you my profound respect and express my sincere
gratitude.
We understand that you are going to visit China, India, and Tibet,
where you will continue your study of theatrical art. This is a matter
which entitles you to our further appreciation. With great pleasure we
look forward to the time when we shall be enlightened on the essence
of dramatic art in the Orient, including Japan. May you enjoy excellent
health and proceed with your work smoothly.
Yours sincerely,

Shigetoshi Kawatake
Professor and Director of Theatre Museum
Waseda University
Appendix A

A
 Chronology, 1940–1948

  

Unless noted, all events are in Tokyo. This chronology is primarily concerned with
mainstream kabuki, and only selected non-kabuki theatre or film notes are included.
The list also contains a selective number of important historical events. All produc-
tions given at the Kabuki-za for 1940–1945 are provided, but productions at other
theatres, such as the Meiji-za, Shinbashi Enbuj
, and T
ky
Gekij
, which frequently
offered kabuki (often on the same program with non-kabuki plays), are selective. In
most cases, only the shorter or most familiar versions of titles are given. Kabuki
actors’ name changes are noted only the first time the actors are discussed. After
notice of a death, the deceased’s age at death appears in parentheses. The chronology
begins with the year Faubion Bowers first arrived in Japan and ends with the year
he left, after he had completed his work as GHQ’s theatre censor. Most entries begin
with undated events for a particular month and these are followed by events with
specific dates.
The chronology is based mainly on material in Kanemori Wako, ed., Kabuki-za
Hyakunen-Shi (100-Year History of the Kabuki-za), 3 vols., Nagayama Takeomi, ed.
supervisor (Tokyo: Sh
chiku Kabushiki Kaisha, Kabushiki Kaisha Kabuki-za, 1993);
Engekikai Editorial Board, “Sh
wa Kabuki Gojnen” (Fifty Years of Sh
wa Kabuki),
Engekikai, 32, no. 13 (1974); and Ogawa Wako, “Sh
wa Kabuki Nenpy
” (Sh
wa
Kabuki Chronology”), Engekikai, 47, no. 6 (1989). When there was a question about
dates, I have taken the Kabuki-za Hyakunen-Shi as authoritative.

1940
January Sh
chiku Corporation’s lease on Teikoku Gekij
ends after fifteen
years; company leases Shinbashi Enbuj
; Kamiya Jihei ordered with-
drawn from Osaka’s Naka-za because “love plays and plays about
illicit love are inappropriate for these times” (quoted in Ogawa Wako,
“Sh
wa Kabuki Nenpy
” [Sh
wa Kabuki Chronology], Engekikai 47,
no. 6 [1989], p. 148); Kabuki-za stars Nakamura Kichiemon I and Ichi-

131
132 Appendix A

mura Uzaemon XV in program including Meiboku Sendai Hagi, the

rarely seen “Takatsuna Kakurega” scene from
mi Genji Senjin Yakata,
the dances Hane no Kamuro and Ukare Bzu, Uno Nobuo’s shin kabuki
play Edo no Yume, and dance Awamochi.
February Onoe Kikugor
VI and Kichiemon I combine at Kabuki-za to pro-
duce the first of several 1940 programs celebrating Japan’s legendary
2,600th birthday; bill includes “Kumagai Jinya,” shin kabuki Taikki,
dances Yashio and Toba-e, Matsuura no Taiko, and dance Waga no
ya-
shima; February 15, Ichikawa Sadanji II, pioneer of shin kabuki and
shingeki and first kabuki star to tour to Europe (1928), collapses at
Shinbashi Enbuj
, where bill included Soga no Taimen and Shuzenji
Monogatari; February 23, Sadanji II dies (61).
March Tax imposed by national government on theatregoing begins; ration
coupons begin to be issued for staples such as salt, rice, soy sauce,
miso, and matches; annual Dan-Kiku Festival at Kabuki-za honoring
Meiji stars Ichikawa Danjr
IX and Onoe Kikugor
V; festival bill
includes major scenes from Chshingura, with Uzaemon XV as Kanpei
and Hangan, which Faubion Bowers sees soon after arriving in Japan;
also shown is Kawajiri Seitan’s shin kabuki Mukashi Banashi Momotar;
kabuki begins to feel the pinch of controls on commodities as various
materials become hard to obtain; German army begins its invasion of
Norway and Denmark; March 7, Sait
Takao speaks out against mili-
tarism and the China policy in the House of Representatives and has
his Diet membership revoked, as parliamentary government crumbles;
March 30, Japan sets up a puppet government in Nanking, China.
April Kabuki-za, starring Uzaemon XV and Kichiemon I, produces Shin
Usuyuki—considered a jinx—for the first time in twenty years; also
on the bill is Gosho no Goroz April 26, Japan Cultural League (Nihon
Bunka Renmei) sponsors a performing arts festival celebrating 2,600
years of imperial rule.
May Ichikawa K
maz
V becomes Ichikawa Ebiz
IX—the first actor
since Meiji to bear the name—and performs Uiruri at Kabuki-za; Ichi-
kawa Ennosuke II, Ichikawa Sumiz
VI, and others form the Shinei
Kabuki troupe in wake of Sadanji II’s death; Tokyo Cooperative Pro-
duction Society (T
ky
K
gy
sha Kaiky
), a wing of the Japan Cul-
tural League, forms, with Sh
chiku chair tani Takejir
as chair, to
promote the interests of movies, theatre, and the performing arts; May
10, Churchill cabinet succeeds Chamberlain’s in England; same day,
Germany invades Holland, Belgium, and Luxembourg; May 28–29,
tani Hirotaru (later Nakamura Jakuemon IV) gives a special recital at
S
z
Gekij
.
June Kabuki-za produces Yanone, shin kabuki Taikki, dance Takao Zange,
and Uno Nobuo’s shin kabuki Hatsugatsuo; Nakamura Moshio (future
Kanzabur
XVII) returns to Sh
chiku from T
h
and becomes active
 Kabuki Chronology, 1940–1948 133

in Osaka kabuki; Ministry of Internal Affairs begins precensoring film

scenarios; German propaganda film about the 1936 Olympics, Triumph
of the Will, a great hit at H
gaku-za; June 3, English troops begin gen-
eral retreat from Dunkirk; June 14, Paris falls to Germans; June 17,
Pétain cabinet formed in France and nation surrenders to Germans;
Italy enters the war.
July Kabuki-za, starring Uzaemon XV, presents Natsu Matsuri, Kasane,
new play Kuro Neko, and Kawajiri Seitan’s shin kabuki Otogi Banashi
Kachikachi Yama; July 2, French government moves to Vichy; July 7,
ban on the sale and manufacture of luxury items in Japan; 1,500
posters line the Ginza with the phrase, “Luxury is the Enemy”; actors’
lives affected as theatre prices are forced down to 5 yen maximum
from previous levels that reached as high as 10 yen; breakup of Japan
Workers League (Nihon R
d
S
d
mei) and end of prewar labor
movement; July 18, DeGaulle broadcasts defiance of Nazis from En-
gland; July 20, Japanese cabinet announces new censorship system
that cuts scenes of girls in flashy clothes, eating expensive food, or
women wearing male attire; left-wing publications suppressed.
August Kabuki-za, Ennosuke II (later En’o) starring, produces propagan-
distic Reimei Shk—about establishing the nation of Manchukuo—
dance play Ninin Tomomori, and shin kabuki Gonza to Sukej; restaurants
barred from selling food prepared with rice (bread and noodles used
as substitutes) and business hours limited; Ministry of Education pro-
hibits high school and college students from attending theatre or
movies on days other than Saturday and holidays; August 19, onnagata
Ichikawa Sh
ch
II, who played many roles opposite Sadanji II, dies
(55); same day, around 100 shingeki artists from Shinky
and Shin
Tsukiji troupes, Senda Koreya included, arrested and troupes dissolved.
September Weekday morning performances at Tokyo theatres banned; Shin-
bashi Enbuj
welcomes Onoe Sh
roku II, temporarily back from the
front; he, Ichikawa Somegor
V (future Matsumoto K
shir
VIII),
Onoe Kikunosuke III (later Onoe Baik
VII), Band
Kakitsu VII (later
Ichimura Uzaemon XVI), and other young actors (Ebiz
IX would
join before long) form Hanagata Kabuki Kai (later Kabuki Kai); they
perform Ehon Taikki, Fuji Musume, Toba-e, etc.; Japanese Cabinet In-
formation Board (J
h
kyoku) expropriates Teikoku Gekij
(Imperial
Theatre) for a government office building; Soganoya Gor
company
of popular theatre (taish engeki) at Kabuki-za August 31 to September
19, then presents a revised program for thirteen more days; September
12, great Nakamura Utaemon V, troupe leader at Kabuki-za, dies (75);
despite restrictions, over 2,500 gather at funeral; September 13, gov-
ernment bans rakugo and kdan storytelling theatres from telling funny
erotic tales or stories about gamblers, wicked women, or bandits; same
day, Italian army attacks Egypt; September 22, Japan marches into
134 Appendix A

north French Indochina; September 27, T
h
Touring Cultural Troupe

(T
h
Id
Bunka Tai) formed to bring theatre to provincial areas as
part of a regional cultural movement (chih bunka und); same day,
Japan, Germany, and Italy sign a tripartite agreement in Berlin.
October Air raid drills force Kabuki-za to delay the month’s program to
October 5; the program, which honors the sixth anniversary of Onoe
Baik
VI’s death, includes Shutsujin no Asa—a new play honoring the
nation’s legendary birth—Soga no Taimen—in which Onoe Ukon, play-
ing Gor
, takes the name Onoe Kuroemon II—the dance play Ibaraki,
Kiichi Hgen, and Shimachidori; during the seventh memorial perfor-
mance for Kataoka Nizaemon XI at Osaka’s Kabuki-za, Kataoka
Hideko (later Kataoka Gat
V) debuts as Otsuru in Horikawa; the all-
women’s troupe, Takarazuka Sh
jo Kagekidan, changes its name to
Takarazuka Kagekidan; October 5, Germany invades Romania; October
12, fascistic Imperial Rule Assistance Association (Taisei Yokusan Kai)
formed, which, a day later, bans all political activity by cultural or in-
tellectual organizations; October 14, with the backing of the Cabinet
Information Board, a ceremony announces the formation of the
Greater Japan Actors’ Association (Dainihon Haiy Ky
kai), with Ichi-
kawa Ennosuke II as president and Onoe Kikugor
VI and Kitamura
Rokur
, vice-presidents; October 23, government begins to stress
“good over evil” themes when Naozamurai, starring Uzaemon XV, is
forced to cut a scene involving Kaneko Ichinoj
because it suggests
incest between him and Michitose and requires Naojir
to give him-
self up to police rather than to escape as in original; Ministry of Edu-
cation convinces Kichiemon I to abandon his plan for producing Kochi-
yama at Kabuki-za; October 26, Sh
chiku produces plays at its T
ky

Gekij
, Meiji-za, Shinbashi Enbuj
, and Kabuki-za to raise funds for
families of war dead; October 31, dance halls closed as inimical to the
times.
November Kabuki-za program, starring Uzaemon XV and Kikugor
VI, in-
cludes the new patriotic history play Tekikoku Kfuku, dance Kagami
Jishi, “Moritsuna Jinya,” dance Tsuchigumo, and modern dance Kasa
Sata Kachiho; Kabuki Kai (formerly Hanagata Kai), with future stars
Kakitsu VII, Nakamura Kotar
(later Nakamura Shikan VII), Sh
roku
II, Kikunosuke III, Kuroemon II, Nakamura Fukusuke VI (later Shikan
IV, then Utaemon VI), Band
Shinsui VII (later Uzaemon XVII), and
Somegor
V, performs at Kabuki-za noon matinees as training expe-
rience; the bill includes Chshingura—with Prologue through Act IV
on odd-numbered days and Acts V through VII on even-numbered
days—and the dance play Momijigari; November 4, Uzaemon XV,
Band
Kakitsu VII, and others perform a new play by Mayama Seika
and a travel dance from Senbon Zakura outdoors on a portable stage—
put together by the actors themselves—at Hibiya Grand Concert Hall
 Kabuki Chronology, 1940–1948 135

(Hibiya Dai-Ongakud
) as part of a recreational gathering for city

workers; November 16, formation of Sh
chiku Traveling Theatre
Troupe (Sh
chiku Id
Engeki Tai); November 26, by order of the
Ministry of Education, all actors and theatre personnel must join
theatre companies, their names are listed, and they can perform only
with permission of the police.
December Kabuki-za, starring Uzaemon XV and Kikugor
VI, produces shin
kabuki Taikki, Musume D jji, and Uno Nobuo’s shin kabuki Ishin no
Jiroch; Ministry of Internal Affairs orders theatre magazines such as
Gekisaku and Butai consolidated into two new ones, Kokumin Engeki
and Engeki, which begin publishing in March 1941; December 6, Cabi-
net Information Board consolidates censorship power and places strict
restraints on all print and performance media; December 20, bust of
late Utaemon V unveiled in special Kabuki-za ceremony.

1941 During the year, stars of female revues such as Takarazuka were
prohibited from dressing as males, and there was growing presence of
women in baggy pants (monpe) and men in gaiters, officially approved
clothing.
January At Kabuki-za, the main bill, with Uzaemon XV and Kikugor
VI, in-
cludes shin kabuki Nawa Nagatoshi, Kotobuki Shiki Sanbas, Kurayama
Danmari (in which Kataoka Yoshinao [later Ichimura Yoshigor
]
changed his name to Ichimura Matasabur
), “Terakoya,” and Megumi
no Kenka; to cut expenses, Kabuki-za begins a new but short-lived
system of longer runs, expanding the month’s run from the usual
twenty-five or so days to fifty, with the program ending on February
20; seventh-year memorial performances begin for Nakamura Gan-
jir
I at Kyoto’s Minami-za and Osaka’s Kabuki-za; from January 1,
six major cities are ordered to restrict movie performances to two and
a half hours; newsreels and cultural films become a required part of
all movie programs; January 10, Kabuki Kai offers noontime produc-
tion of “Kamo Tsutsumi” and “D
my
ji” from Sugawara and dance
Shunshoku Ninin Djji on even days and “Kuruma Biki,” “Sato Mura,”
and dance Tsuchigumo on odd days; Ebiz
IX, Somegor
V, and Naka-
mura Matagor
II join Kabuki Kai.
February February 26, Cabinet Information Board publishes a list of writers
who may not work for general interest magazines.
March Annual Dan-Kiku Festival, with two programs a day, one at noon
and one at 5:00 P.M.; company led by Uzaemon XV and Kichiemon I;
the noon program includes Meiboku Sendai Hagi, Funa Benkei, and Taka-
toki; the evening program includes Kanjinch (K
shir
VII as Benkei),
Momijigari, and Sugawara’s “Kuruma Biki” and “Ga no Iwai”; the bill
runs thirty-six days, programs alternating from day to night and vice
versa every ten days; Sawamura Tanosuke VI debuts as Sawamura
136 Appendix A

Yoshijir
at Kabuki-za, playing Tsuruchiyo in Meiboku Sendai Hagi; Zen-

shin-za begins the systematic presentation of Mayama Seika’s lengthy
Genroku Chshingura; a full showing is not completed until November
1943; Bowers leaves Japan for the Netherlands East Indies; March 1,
the Japanese government denounces liberal and individualistic edu-
cational methods and promulgates the Revised Law for the Main-
tenance of Public Peace, allowing for the detention of all potentially
dangerous persons; March 31, all Buddhist sects are amalgamated.
April Japanese Theatre Cooperative Association (Nihon Engeki Ky
kai)
forms and gives outdoor performance at Hibiya Grand Court Hall; gov-
ernment passes law on Restrictions on Life’s Necessities, and Tokyo
and five other cities begin new system of rice coupon books and estab-
lishes limits on eating out; another two-a-day bill at Kabuki-za, from
April 10, for forty days, to May 19, starring Uzaemon XV and Kiku-
gor
VI; day program: Senbon Zakura’s “Sushiya,” Musume Djji, and
Sakanaya Sgor; evening program: Sanemori Monogatari, dance
mori
Hikoshichi, and Sukeroku; April 6, Germany invades Yugoslavia and
Greece; April 13, Japan signs neutrality pact with the USSR in Moscow;
April 17, Yugoslavia surrenders; April 24, 26–28, Yasukuni Shrine
holds special festival at Kabuki-za with bill of Sanemori Monogatari,

mori Hikoshichi, and Momijigari.
May Sawamura S
jr
IX debuts as Sawamura Genpei VI at Kabuki-za,
playing a courtesan’s maidservant in Sukeroku; tickets for third-floor
seating become increasingly hard to buy, with long lines forming
through the night for next day’s seats and each person allowed only
three tickets; May 6, Stalin becomes premier of USSR; May 8, citizens
required to endure two meatless days a month; May 21–25, five-day
Japanese dance (nihon buy) grand recital at Kabuki-za, with all major
schools represented and 80 pieces shown in ten performances; May
26, Kabuki-za taken over for three days by Fujiwara Kagekidan with
Verdi’s opera Aïda; May 31, Kabuki-za program begins, with Uzaemon
XV starring in Akoya Kotozeme, dance Nomitori Otoko, Genyadana, Shu-
zenji Monogatari, and Ise Ondo.
June Band
Minosuke (future Band
Mitsugor
VIII) returns to Sh

chiku from T
h
and goes to work in Kansai kabuki; June 22, Chou
Wen-Wei, head of Chinese Nationalist Government, feted at Kabuki-
za, with special performance of Momijigari and Shuzenji Monogatari;
same day, war breaks out between Germany and the USSR, and Ger-
many invades; June 25, Japan occupies southern IndoChina; June
29, Kikugor
VI makes a formal presentation to the army of the air-
plane named The Actor (Haiy-go).
July Kabuki Kai on main bill at Kabuki-za with Okamoto Kid
’s shin
kabuki Byakkotai, Kikubatake, dance Modori Kago, and Act VII of Chshin-
gura, with matinees on the first, second, and third Sundays; Kabuki-
 Kabuki Chronology, 1940–1948 137

za playbill bears large announcement for sale of premium-bearing

war bonds; two-and-a-half-hour system for movie theatres takes effect
nationwide; July 18, mail steamer Asamamaru is last Japanese ship
to sail from Yokohama to San Francisco before the war; same day,
Sh
chiku and Zenshin-za combine to film Genroku Chshingura; July
25, death of noted novelist, dramatist, and kabuki scholar Ihara Sei-
seien [Toshir
] (72); from July 26, three-day major dance recital of
all schools at Osaka’s Kabuki-za.
August Kabuki-za produces completely nonclassic kabuki program of Ataka
no Seki, Okamoto Kid
’s shin kabuki Nagara no Hitobarashi, Hiyu ga
Shima, and Furisode Goten—the last based on a serialized novel—with
kabuki actors, including Jitsukawa Enjaku II and Kataoka Nizaemon
XII; August 3, death of Torii Kiyotada VIII, famed painter of kabuki
billboards and costume/set designer (67); August 11, controls over
film industry instituted, with all films expected to contribute to war
effort; August 22, first woman writer for kabuki and pioneer actress-
playwright Hasegawa Shigure dies (62); from August 28, for three
days, recital of traditional performing art, rkyoku.
September Anniversary of first year of Utaemon V’s death privately commem-
orated by theatre world; company at Kabuki-za calls itself Nakamura
Kai for the event, with Nakamura actors led by Kichiemon I; program:
Igagoe Dch Sugoroku, “Sakaya,” and dance Kanda Matsuri; special
booth set up at Kabuki-za for “Sale of Imperial Army Condolence
Items” to send to soldiers at the front; Cabinet Information Board
activates People’s Theatre Encouragement of Selections (Kokumin En-
geki Sensh
) system; September 6, formation of Japan Touring Theatre
League (Nihon Id
Engeki Renmei), which is a government-created
cultural institution to establish unified goals and methods among vari-
ous traveling companies that reaches fifteen million spectators over a
five-year period; Uzaemon XV leads Sh
chiku touring company all
over the country; September 26, three-day dance recital at Kabuki-za;
September 30, German army begins general attack on Moscow.
October Public commemoration of Utaemon V’s death at Kabuki-za; Naka-
mura Fukusuke VI (future Nakamura Utaemon VI) becomes Naka-
mura Shikan VI, playing Hatsugiku in Ehon Taikki, Komachi in
Rokkasen, Chikara in Act IX of Chshingura, Gonpachi in Suzugamori;
Nakamura Kotar
(today’s Shikan VII) becomes Nakamura Fukusuke
VII, playing a courtesan’s maidservant in Modori Kago and Konami in
“Yamashina Kanky
” of Chshingura; Nakamura Senjaku I becomes
Nakamura Ganjaku IV at Osaka’s Kado-za, playing Miuranosuke in
Kamakura Sandaiki and also acting in Geid Ichidai Otoko; his son, the
present Nakamura Ganjir
III, debuts at the same theatre as Nakamura
Hidetar
, playing Kotar
in “Terakoya” and Kintar
in Yamanba;
Kabuki-za returns to a two-a-day program, with K
shir
VII, Nizae-
138 Appendix A

mon XII, and Uzaemon XV starring in Kiri Hitoha, Ehon Taikki, and
Modori Kago during the day bill and “Yamashina Kanky
” from Ch
shingura, dance Rokkasen, and Gosh no Goroz in the evening.
November Same company continues at Kabuki-za with another two-a-day
program, repeating several plays; day and evening programs reverse
order on November 12; day program: Kiri Hitoha, Ehon Taikki, Genya-
dana (released from temporary suspension as inappropriate to the
times), and Modori Kago; evening program: “Yamashina Kanky
,”
Kagami Jishi, Suzugamori, Gosho no Goroz; rise in theatre taxes: tickets
over 5 yen are taxed 80 percent, less than 5 yen 60 percent, and less
than 3 yen 40 percent; November 25, Fujiwara Yoshie’s company in
Carmen at Kabuki-za for three days; Kabuki-za company headed by
Kikugor
VI opens November 30, with Senbon Zakura’s “Kawatsura
H
gen-kan,” Ukare Bzu, new play Onshin Ij, and dance Michiyuki
Ukine no Tomidori.
December Kabuki Kai does last presentation, a matinee of Hiragana Seisuiki’s
“Senjin Mond
,” Tge no Ishibotoke, Omoi Hikoshichi, and Nozaki Mura,
with Kikugor
playing Kysuke in Nozaki Mura; Hong Kong occupied
by the Japanese; December 7 (8 in Japan), Pearl Harbor attacked,
World War II begins; same day, German army fails to occupy Moscow;
December 19, new laws controlling speech, publishing, assembly, and
organizations are revealed, and American movies are banned.

1942
January In the wake of the declaration of war, and with attendant tensions
and restrictions on travel and food, theatre and movie attendance
jumps; various literary lights commandeered into service and sent to
Java, Manila, and Saigon to write propaganda and news; others sent
to Malaysia and Burma later in the year; period of nationalism leads
to rise in interest in traditional arts; day and night programs at Kabuki-
za, with reversal of programs on January 15; day program: new ver-
sion of Namiki Sh
z
’s little-known Mekari no Shinji, comic dance Ninin
Bakama, and Ishikiri Kajiwara; evening program: “Kumagai Jinya,”
Fuji Musume, and Gonza to Sukej; Uzaemon XV and K
shir
VII lead
the day program, and Kikugor
VI and Kichiemon I lead the evening
bill; theatre’s playbill cover, which now includes new patriotic slogans
monthly, reads, “Onward! 100 million fireballs” and “Keep firing!
English-speaking enemies”; program such a hit that it continues into
February; January 1, salt and gas rationing system begins; January 2,
Japanese occupy Manila; January 8, death of major shin kabuki play-
wright Ikeda Daigo (58); January 28, Kabuki-za musical department
sponsors “National Defense Benefit Concert,” including two dances
in nontheatrical kimono, one of them being Bshibari with Kikugor

VII and Mitsugor
VII.
 Kabuki Chronology, 1940–1948 139

February Kyoto Minami-za celebrates Senjaku I taking the new name Naka-
mura Ganjaku IV; Cabinet Information Board returns Teikoku Gekij

to theatrical use; same system as January continues at Kabuki-za,
with Uzaemon-K
shir
sharing one-half of the bill and Kikugor
-
Kichiemon the other; sequence of programs reversed on February 14;
day program: Uno Nobuo’s shin kabuki Haru no Shimo, a rarely per-
formed scene from Kezori, and Kurotegumi Kuruwa no Tatehiki; eve-
ning program: Imoseyama’s “Goten,” Yasuna, and Kamiyui Shinza; Feb-
ruary 15, Japan occupies Singapore; February 18, Japan celebrates
victory in Asia with sake, azuki (red beans), candy, and gum distributed
to the public; February 20, symphony orchestra concert at Kabuki-za.
March Performances at Kabuki-za honoring the fiftieth anniversary of the
death of Uzaemon XIV, who died as Kakitsu but whose name Uzae-
mon is honored because of the influence of Uzaemon XV; stars mix
for both parts of the program, although Kikugor
has to leave from
March 6 for medical reasons; day program: Kagamiyama Koky Nishiki-e
in new adaptation, “Moritsuna Jinya,” and dance Ochiudo; evening
program: Futatsu Chch’s “Sum
ba,” Futa Omote, and Okamoto Kid
’s
shin kabuki Kanpei no Shi; Shinsui VII becomes Band
Hikosabur
VII,
playing Oshimodoshi in Futa Omote; March 5, first air raid warning in
Tokyo; March 8, Japan occupies Rangoon; March 9, Java’s Dutch army
surrenders; March 21, death of sometime kabuki—but mainly shinpa
—onnagata Kawai Takeo (66).
April Dan-Kiku Festival at Kabuki-za, with same two-a-day program
and midmonth switch as before; day program: michiyuki and “Sushiya”
from Senbon Zakura, Kochiyama and Naozamurai; evening program:
“Jinmon” and “Kumagai Jinya” from Ichinotani Futaba Gunki, Ibaraki,
Bunshichi Motoyui; an unusual number of actors take sick, including
Kikugor
, tani Tomoemon VI, S
jr
, and K
shir
, thereby requir-
ing the use of understudies; April 1, Japanese movie distribution sys-
tem unified and all 2,300 theatres designated as red or white for release
of new films; same day, Japanese land in New Guinea; April 11, Japan
occupies Bataan in the Philippines; April 16, Cabinet Information
Board gives cash awards for films and theatre, with first prize of 3,000
yen won by Uno Nobuo’s Haru no Shimo; April 18, Doolittle leads
squadron of B-25s on first bombing mission over Japan, striking such
cities as Tokyo, Nagoya, and Kobe, with minor damage but great fear
driven into the people’s hearts; Kabuki-za afternoon bill suspended
and Asakusa district theatres closed down after 6:00 P.M.
May Dan-Kiku Festival extended, with the two-part program again
reversed mid-month; day program: Kongen Kusazuri Biki,
gi Byshi

oka Seidan, and Omatsuri Sashichi; evening program: Yoshitsune Koshi-
goej, Musume Djji, and Kiwametsuki Banzui Chbei; three showings of
newsreel before production opens; suppression of free speech by Cabi-
140 Appendix A

net Information Board leads to dissolution of Association of Japanese

Writers (Nihon Bungeika Ky
kai), thus silencing the literary world
until the end of the war; May 7, Japanese occupy Corregidor, Battle
of the Coral Sea; May 9, Buddhist temples ordered to deliver their
sacred objects and temple bells to the government; May 12, German
army renews attack on USSR; May 27, Fujiwara Yoshie at Kabuki-za
for three days with Tosca.
June Uzaemon XV, joined by Baigyoku III, stars in both day and night
programs, while K
shir
VII is recuperating and Kikugor
VI is on
tour; day bill: Kan’u, shin kabuki Shigeki Tenmokuzan, Nigatsud, and
Genyadana; evening bill: Youchi Soga Kariba no Akebono, Kuni Namari
Futaba no Oizuru, Kykaku Harusame Gasa, and dance Suminuri Onna;
program booklet provides instructions on air raid procedures during
a performance and on what to do regarding tickets in case of show
cancellations; June 2, Kikugor
troupe of about forty goes to Man-
chuoku as performing arts envoys to celebrate the tenth anniversary
of that state and, from July, perform Shiki Sanbas, “Terakoya,” Kaga-
mijishi, and Bunshichi Motoyui; June 6, Battle of Midway, war’s turn-
ing point, with Japan losing control of sea and air to the United States;
June 29, Faust for three days at Kabuki-za by Fujiwara Yoshie troupe.
July Kabuki-za bill, starring Kikugor
VI, includes a new patriotic play,
Ysen Shiji—which receives cooperation of the Japanese navy and is
approved by the Kabuki Investigation Committee for the Collection
and Selection of Outstanding Scripts (Kabuki Kent
Iinkai Bosh
Ysh Nysen Kyakuhon)—Bshibari, and Uno Nobuo’s new Fugu
Taiko, based on the stories of Detective Hanshichi; July 17, Tsukiji
police department sponsors lecture at Kabuki-za on counterintelli-
gence; cover of Kabuki-za program from July 13–19 bears the slogan,
“Movement for Strengthening the People’s Wartime Counterintelli-
gence: 100 Million People are Counterintelligence Agents”; July 17,
German army begins assault on Stalingrad.
August Combination company of Kansai and Tokyo actors at Kabuki-za;
program includes Mayama Seika’s Wanya Kybei, Seish Akogi ga Ura,
and the new Kinn Fudoki; August 7, Americans land at Guadalcanal;
August 8, first battle in the Solomons; August 20, Asama-maru, repa-
triation ship, arrives in Japan bearing over 1,400 Japanese; August 21,
school year shortened for students in junior high school through
college; August 26, Sh
chiku-sponsored evening of music, ballet, and
arias at Kabuki-za; August 27, record-breaking sales for a new two-
part movie about war in Hawai‘i and Malaysia, which is also shown
in a special invitational Kabuki-za performance.
September Nakamura Kai at Kabuki-za, starring Kichiemon I; program in-
cludes Keya Mura, the new play Tokimune—based on a n play—Nebiki
no Kadomatsu, and new Kenshira Gishi, with the second and fourth
 Kabuki Chronology, 1940–1948 141

plays being selections of patriotic groups; September 12, magazine

Kaiz’s eighth and ninth issues suppressed and writer Hosokawa
Kiroku arrested for his writings therein; September 26, three-day
dance recital at Kabuki-za; September 29, unveiling ceremony for
portraits of Meiji dramatists Kawatake Mokuami and Fukuchi chi.
October Kabuki-za program, starring Uzaemon XV and Kikugor
VI, honors
Mokuami and chi; day and evening programs reversed on October
14; day bill: Daitokuji, new dance play Chrei—recommended by Cabi-
net Information Board—and Acts V, VI, and VII of Chshingura; eve-
ning bill: Ishikiri Kajiwara, Kagami Jishi, Mekura Nagaya, and dance Tobi
Yakko; Hayashi Chosabur
, eldest son of Ganjir
I, becomes Hayashi
Mataichir
II, acting in Keisei Hangonk at Osaka’s Kabuki-za; this
month celebrates the 500th anniversary of n playwright-actor-theorist
Zeami’s death; Kabuki-za program, continuing to honor Mokuami and
chi, opens October 29.
November Day and evening programs at Kabuki-za reverse order on November
11; day program: first three scenes in Chshingura, Chrei, and Acts V
and VI of Chshingura; evening program: same as October; November
19, counteroffensive against Germans by Stalingrad army; November
23, Lohengrin produced by Fujiwara company at Kabuki-za for six days.
December Uzaemon XV leads company at Kabuki-za in Torii Matasuke, new
play Shunpch, Sanemori Monogatari, and Kuruwa Bunsh; December
2, U.S. scientists split the atom; Kabuki-za begins to serve regularly as
the place for special performances designed to raise wartime morale
among selected military and civilian groups; December 4, all maga-
zines with English names are forbidden and the names are changed
(for example, Economist becomes Keizai Mainichi); December 12, Uzae-
mon falls ill and leaves stage to recuperate; at the suggestion of the
police department, seven theatres begin to give once-a-month per-
formances for troops under the aegis of the Association for the Com-
fort of Requisitioned Industries and Draftees (ch
Sangy
Senshi
Iraku no Kai, sometimes without the word Sangy), hereafter ACRID;
December 31, Japanese withdraw from Guadalcanal.

1943
January Cabinet Information Board supports the Kabuki-za matinee of
“Hipp
Denju,” “Kuruma Biki,” and “Terakoya” from Sugawara, star-
ring Kikugor
VI and Kichiemon I; also shown are Fuji Musume and
the dance piece Dontsuku; evening program: Senbon Zakura and Megumi
no Kenka; Band
Tsurunosuke III becomes Nakamura Tomijr
IV at
Osaka’s Kabuki-za, starring in Musume Djji and other pieces; Cabinet
Information Board bans jazz and other forms of American and En-
glish music; January 27, special showing of “Terakoya” and “Kuruma
Biki” for war workers.
142 Appendix A

February January program continues at Kabuki-za, with program revers-

ing order from February 14; playbill notice: “Cooperation in the Rice
Economy! Patrons who bring their own food with them will be pro-
vided with a special eating room on the third floor . . .”; all Sh
chiku
theatres change names to include “Sh
chiku” in them; February 1,
Japanese Army begins retreat from Guadalcanal; February 2, Germans
surrender in Stalingrad; February 3, theatres and movie houses begin
to close down twice a month on alternating basis to save electricity;
February 23, Army issues 50,000 posters urging the nation to “Keep
Fighting!”; February 26, ACRID views a special performance of the
February program.
March Kabuki-za program, with company joined by Ennosuke II, does a
day show of Kiri Hitoha, Shunkan, dance play Kokaji, and Uno Nobuo’s
shin kabuki Yahei; evening program: Senbon Zakura, including its “Su-
shiya” scene, Takatoki, and Musume Djji; mid-month flip-flop of day
and evening shows; new tax on theatre tickets: over 5 yen taxed 120
percent, less than 5 yen taxed 90 percent, less than 3 yen taxed 60
percent; March 2, Japanese baseball terminology altered to avoid En-
glish: strike becomes yoshi, out becomes hike, foul becomes dame, and
so on; March 27, special performance for ACRID; March 28,
tomo no
Yakamochi, a Japanese opera, is produced at Kabuki-za by a combina-
tion of three companies.
April Dan-Kiku Festival at Kabuki-za; Uzaemon XV and Kikugor
VI star
on the day program and Kichiemon I on evening program; day pro-
gram: Meiboku Sendai Hagi, new Oka Onitar
dance play Shiki, and
Genyadana; evening program: Kiyomasa Seich Roku,
mori Hikoshichi,
and Kochiyama; April 8, once-a-month 9:00 A.M. showings of news-
reels, free of charge, begin; same day, death in the Pacific of Admiral
Yamamoto Isoroku; April 23, 25, 26, special afternoon performances
at Kabuki-za of pieces from the month’s program for the Invitational
Yasukuni Shrine Great Festival for Bereaved Family Condolence
Society (Yasukuni Jinja matsuri Izokuka Ian Kai).
May Dan-Kiku Festival continues with a two-part program, switching
order on May 16; the day program is led by Kikugor
VI: Domo Mata,
dance drama Funa Benkei, and Shiobara Tasuke Ichidaiki; the evening
program is led by Uzaemon XV: Kmonki, the “Narihira,” “Komachi,”
and “Bunya” sections of Rokkasen, and Naozamurai; May 22, great
kabuki musician Kiyomoto Enjuday V dies (81); May 25–27, special
performances for ACRID; May 28, two operas, The Barber of Seville
and Nishiura no Kami, are performed at Kabuki-za for three days;
May 29, Japanese troops annihilated by the Americans at Attu Island
in the Aleutians.
June Another two-part program at Kabuki-za, with a midmonth switch
in their order; day program, starring Kikugor
VI: “Yamashina
 Kabuki Chronology, 1940–1948 143

Kanky
” scene from Chshingura, Yashio, Ukare Bzu, and shin kabuki
Ippon Gatana Dhy Iri (including guest actor Kitamura Rokur
); eve-
ning program, starring Uzaemon XV: Genpei Nunobiki Taki, new play
Hakuz Su, and Naozamurai; two other stagings of material from Ch
shingura at two other Tokyo theatres controlled by Sh
chiku: Meiji-za
production, starring Kichiemon I, of Prologue through Act IV and
michiyuki and Shinbashi Enbuj
production by Zenshin-za of Act VII;
playbill includes map of air raid shelters in basement; movie theatres
forced to reduce daily presentations to two hours; June 3, official
clothing designated for girls and boys; June 5, memorial services for
Admiral Yamamoto held on fourth floor of Kabuki-za; June 7, Kabuki-
za celebrates its tenth year since the founding of Manchuoku, with
Kikugor
and company presenting several of same plays they enacted
on tour to Manchuoku; June 25–28, performances for ACRID.
July Continuation of Kikugor
company, with Ippon Gatana Dhy Iri still
on bill; other plays include Imoseyama, comic dance Su Otoshi, and
Tamaya; censors forbade Shinkei Kasane ga Fuchi and Ejima Ikushima,
so Ippon Gatana remains on bill; Sh
chiku, responding to government’s
desire to emphasize moderate clothing, places a statement in the pro-
gram, saying: “We beg you, everyone. From now on, gentlemen and
ladies, boldly abandon your old ideas of gorgeous, flashy clothing, and
please fill up our theatre in simple, sturdy, and cheerful wear. And we
request that you watch this indispensable and necessary wartime
entertainment serenely and without fear”; July 10, British and Amer-
icans land on Sicily; July 25, downfall of Mussolini; July 28, Italy’s Fas-
cist Party dissolved; July 29, Japanese withdraw from Kisaka; July 29,
program of three ballets at Kabuki-za; June 30, schoolgirls mobilize
to work in factories.
August Ennosuke II at Kabuki-za; program includes Ataka no Seki, a mod-
ern naval drama called Kaigun (given in the same month at Meiji-za
in a shinpa adaptation based on the same serialized novel), dance
drama Kurozuka, and the new play Meijin Kagoya, not one of these
being true kabuki; fifteen-year-old Band
Tsurunosuke IV (later Naka-
mura Tomijr
V) debuts as a butterfly at Osaka’s Naka-za in Kagami
Jishi; second T
h
Gekidan troupe forms; wild animals at Ueno Zoo
begin to be killed by poisoning because of food shortages; August 9,
Kabuki-za shows a preview of a movie, Yamamoto Gensui, about the
late admiral; August 18, ACRID sees a special performance; August
19, the draft extends to company presidents; August 28 and 29, spe-
cial preview of the movie Aiki Minami e Tobu, the first winner of the
new President tani Prize for best new film.
September Nakamura Kai appears at Kabuki-za in a program that opens Sep-
tember 5, although Kichiemon I is out ill and the company makeup is
thereby altered; bill includes the new play Sat Kydai no Haha, Jitsu-
144 Appendix A

roku Sendai Hagi, dance Ayatsuri Sanbas, the new play Meiwa Chnen,
and a new dance by Kawajiri Seitan, Torikaebei; because of material
shortages, Sh
chiku prints a notice in the playbill asking audiences to
bring their discarded sandals to theatre for reuse by others; September
8, Italy surrenders to the Allied Powers; September 10, highly re-
garded kabuki actor tani Tomoemon VI (58), touring in Tottori with
a company led by Nizaemon XII, is crushed to death by his dresser
backstage at the kuro-za during an earthquake; long-established
theatre magazine Engei Gah (founded 1908) is forced to cease publi-
cation because of war conditions; September 22, special performances
for ACRID.
October Cabinet Information Board ends publication of six theatre maga-
zines with October issues: Engei Gah, Engeki, Gendai Engeki, Kokumin
Engeki, and Th; return to a two-program system at Kabuki-za, with
midmonth flip-flop; Uzaemon XV and Kikugor
VI lead the company
in a day program of Moritsuna Jinya, Yasuna, and Kiichi Hgen Sanryaku
no Maki; the evening program stars Kichiemon and Kikugor
in
Dokucha no Tansuke—in which Ichikawa Kuz
becomes Ichikawa
Danz
VIII—Matsuura no Taiko, Fuji Musume, and Fudeya Kbei; October
15, 17, 18, special condolence performances organized by Sh
chiku
and T
h
, under the auspices of Yasukuni Shrine, for bereaved fami-
lies; October 29, highly respected playwright, editor, and critic Oka
Onitar
dies (72) just prior to the establishment of Engekikai, which
he was to edit.
November Another two-program Kabuki-za arrangement, with midmonth
alternation; Uzaemon XV and Kikugor
VI are among those in the
afternoon’s “Sushiya,” Kanjinch, and new dance Kisen; evening pro-
gram includes Uzaemon, Kikugor
, and Kichiemon in Ichij
kura,
Kasane, new play Saga Nikki, and Sakanaya Sgor; first issues of new
theatre magazines are published: Engekikai, for general theatrical ap-
preciation, and Nihon Engeki, for research and criticism; completion of
Mayama Seika’s Genroku Chshingura series is commemorated by Zen-
shin-za at Shinbashi Enbuj
; November 18, England bombs Berlin;
November 25, Japanese troops are wiped out on Makin and Tarawa
Atolls; November 30, premiere of the film version of Kaigun.
December December 22, Kanjinch filmed at Kabuki-za as part of the Bureau
of Information policy to preserve classical performing arts: stars
K
shir
VII as Benkei, Uzaemon XV as Togashi, and Kikugor
VI as
Yoshitsune.

1944
January Two-part Kabuki-za program; day bill: Kikugor
VI and Kichiemon
I costar in “D
my
ji,” Kagami Jishi, and Uno Nobuo’s shin kabuki Ninj
Banashi Koban Ichiry; evening bill: Uzaemon XV, Kikugor
VI, and
 Kabuki Chronology, 1940–1948 145

K
shir
VII costar in “Ga no Iwai,” Ibaraki, and Shimachidori; program

flip-flops midmonth; Tokyo police close down all theatre restaurants,
turning the premises into dining halls for spectators, who must now
bring their own meals; editors of several major magazines are arrested;
apart from six major general interest, literary, and economic maga-
zines, all others are suspended or abolished; suppression of free speech
and artistic expression that is critical of or does not further the war
spirit intensifies during this year; January 12 and 13, performances
for ACRID.
February Kichiemon I and Uzaemon XV star in the day program at Kabuki-
za, featuring Hachijin, Kiri Hitoha, and Hato no Heieimon; Uzaemon and
Kikugor
VI star in the evening program, comprising Yoshitsune Koshi-
goej, Kagami Jishi (continued from January), and Futatsu Chch’s
“Sum
Ba”; programs change takes place midmonth; at Shinbashi
Enbuj
, Ennosuke II’s company, usually prone to new works, focuses
on classical kabuki; both troupes have full houses daily; February 1,
Americans occupy Marshall Islands; February 10, Senda Koreya and
others found Haiy-za for shingeki, their first performances planned
for August; Uzaemon XV succeeded as head of the Japan Actors Asso-
ciation by Kikugor
VI; February 16, admission tax of 20 percent is
added to all tickets over 5 yen, 15 percent for tickets under 5 yen, and
10 percent for tickets less than 3 yen; February 25, Cabinet Informa-
tion Board publishes a fifteen-item “General Plan for Emergency War
Measures,” including Item Number 7, “The Cessation of First-Class
Entertainments” announcing extreme emergency measures designed
to raise slackening martial spirit; the plan includes the closure of the
big cities’ first-class theatres, geisha houses, houses of assignation, res-
taurants, bars, etc., for a one-year period; nineteen theatres are des-
ignated: Tokyo’s Kabuki-za, T
ky
Gekij
, Shinbashi Enbuj
, Tokyo
Takarazuka Gekij
, Nihon Gekij
, Meiji-za, Asakusa Kokusai Gekij
,
Yraku-za, and Teikoku Gekij
 Osaka’s Naka-za, Kado-za, Kabuki-
za, saka Gekij
, Kitano Gekij
, and Umeda Eiga Gekij
 Nagoya’s
Misono-za, Kyoto’s Minami-za, and Kobe’s Sh
chiku Gekij
and
Takarazuka Daigekij
; over 10,000 businesses are affected; entertain-
ment districts appear like ghost towns; February 26, respected play-
wright and poet Takayasu Gekk
dies (76).
March March 5, all designated theatres are shut down as an emergency
measure intended to “raise morale”; Kabuki-za’s canceled schedule
includes a day program of “Kumagai Jinya,” Nijj no Kiyomasa, and
Utsubo Zaru, and an evening program of Akechi Mitsu Toshihomare no
Nokkiri, the dance Kasuga Ryjin, and Kumo Somu Shikabane; kabuki,
shinpa, and shingeki actors use the opportunity to give condolence per-
formances around the country; Ichikawa Sumiz
VI (later Ichikawa
Jukai III) uses the nondesignated H
gaku-za to do a full-length pro-
146 Appendix A

duction of Chshingura, playing the seven roles of Moronao, Yurano-

suke, Sadakur
, Y
ichibei, Kanpei, Heiemon, and Kiyomizu Ikkaku,
with Shikan VI playing opposite him in major supporting roles; the
low-budget show uses cheap summer blinds to hide the shamisen/
narrator combination, moves offstage right musicians (geza) into the
orchestra pit, utilizes only a single entertainer to amuse Yuranosuke
in Act VII; March 1, Sh
chiku’s all-girl revue troupe is dissolved and
a Sh
chiku girls’ performing arts volunteer corps is formed; Osaka’s
Kabuki-za opens on March 1 with memorial performances honoring
the fiftieth anniversary of Nizaemon X’s death, but it closes on March
4; March 5, evening newspapers are abolished; March 20, Ministry of
Internal Affairs issues an edict that all theatrical and other perform-
ing arts presentations shall be limited to two and a half hours and
that movies be limited to one hour and forty minutes, with top price
—tax included—no more than 5 yen; tax on tickets less than 5 yen is
now 15 percent, and tickets less than 3 yen are taxed 10 percent.
April Promulgation of “Regulations for the Control of Theatrical Pro-
duction” requires the submission of every play for approval by the
Minister of Internal Affairs; thirty-six wooden theatres in the enter-
tainment districts of six large cities are closed down as a safety mea-
sure; relaxation of March 5 measures, with Shinbashi Enbuj
, Meiji-
za, saka Gekij
, Umeda Eiga Gekij
, Minami-za, and Misono-za per-
mitted to reopen, mainly for showing movies, but Shinbashi Enbuj

and Meiji-za give some kabuki with major stars; other theatres are
used as public halls, for bureaucratic offices, as places for refuge dur-
ing emergencies, and as storage places for munitions and evacuees’
belongings, even as places for constructing balloon bombs; the theatres
are often allowed to give presentations for special groups, which rent
the premises, thereby providing brief condolence showings of kabuki;
severe restrictions are placed on domestic travel; April 22, Tokyo
police ban revues and similar shows.
June Various major theatre organizations combine as the Greater Japan
Performing Arts Association (Dainihon Gein
Kai); June 6, Amer-
icans and English land at Normandy; June 16, American B-29s bomb
northern Kysh; Kikugor
VI is touring to Hakata at the time of the
bombing (broadcasts speech in August from Kabuki-za about his expe-
riences); June 19 and 20, Japanese navy suffers devastating air and
sea losses off the Mariana Islands; June 30, schoolchildren ordered to
evacuate large cities.
July July 7, Japanese troops are decimated at Saipan; July 18, Adm. T
j

Hideki cabinet resigns and a new cabinet forms under Gen. Koiso;
July 20, unsuccessful assassination attempt on Hitler; July 21, Amer-
icans land on Guam.
 Kabuki Chronology, 1940–1948 147

August In mid-August, Kichiemon and his company give condolence per-

formances at Kabuki-za, including Nijj no Kiyomasa and Modori Kago;
August 1, distribution of household sugar ceases; same day, kabuki
actor Ichikawa Ichiz
IV dies (76); August 4, the first step in evacuat-
ing Tokyo schoolchildren begins, as trainloads depart from Ueno Sta-
tion; August 25, Paris liberated from the Germans.
September Uzaemon and others give condolence performances at Kabuki-za;
September 9, DeGaulle establishes a provisional government in Paris.
October Soganoya Gor
company and Uzaemon XV, Kichiemon I, Kiku-
gor
VI, and other Sh
chiku actors alternate in giving condolence
performances at Kabuki-za, the Sh
chiku actors showing Kikubatake
and the final scene of Chshingura; Sh
chiku and T
h
combine
forces to share theatres and companies as the Sh
chiku T
h
Engeki
Kai; October 10, Americans begin bombing Okinawa; October 18, draft
age lowered to 18; October 19, special kamikaze (divine wind) divi-
sion of suicidal dive bombers is formed; October 20, Americans invade
Leyte, Philippines; October 24, Japanese navy defeated off Leyte; Octo-
ber 25, first kamikaze suicide flights attack American carriers off Leyte.
November November 1, male smokers limited to six cigarettes a day; November
24, eighty B-29s bomb Tokyo; Kanda district Nanmei-za is destroyed
by fire and becomes the first theatre casualty of the war.
December Movie theatres are closed after sunset because of air raids; December
12, an earthquake and a tsunami combine to kill nearly 1,000 in the
T
kai region; December 26, Kimura Tomiko, writer of dance lyrics for
Kurozuka and a rare female writer for kabuki, including works in
which Ennosuke II starred, dies (55).

1945
January Kikugor
VI at Shinbashi Enbuj
appears in Kagami Jishi and Yuki
no Akebono Homare no Akagaki; Kichiemon at Meiji-za stars in Ishikiri
Kajiwara and other plays; January 3, air raids on the T
kai region;
January 13, continuing earthquakes in the T
kai region add many
casualties to those of last year; January 27, direct hit destroys Sh

chiku’s main offices in the Tsukiji section of Tokyo.
February Condolence performances by the Kikugor
VI company at Kabuki-
za include “Kuruma Biki,” Kiyomizu Ikkaku, and Tachi Nusubito; Feb-
ruary 4, Yalta Conference, during which the USSR secretly promises
the Allies to enter the war against Japan.
March March 10–19, nighttime firebombing by B-29s of major cities;
Tokyo’s Meiji-za, Kokumin Gekij
(Tsukiji Sh
gekij
), Sh
chiku-za,
and Asakusa Kokusai Gekij
are destroyed; playwright and critic
Yamagishi Kay
is killed (70); air raids intensify across the nation;
March 12, Osaka’s Naka-za, Kado-za, Naniwa-za, Benten-za, and
148 Appendix A

Bunraku-za are destroyed; homes of various kabuki stars, including

those of Uzaemon XV, Kikugor
VI, and Kichiemon I, are destroyed
and many stars evacuate Tokyo; March 13, kabuki actor Nakamura
Kaisha is killed during the bombing of Osaka (71); March 19, Nagoya’s
Misono-za is destroyed.
April April 1, American troops land in Okinawa; April 5, Japanese cabinet
resigns; April 12, President Roosevelt dies and President Truman
takes office; April 15, kabuki actor Iwai Kumesabur
V (posthumously
named Iwai Hanshir
X in 1951) dies (63); same day, Utaemon VI
evacuates Tokyo; April 23, Soviets enter Berlin; April 25, United
Nations Conference on International Organization held in San Fran-
cisco to create a charter; April 26, Shinbashi Enbuj
presents Kiku-
gor
VI’s company in “Sushiya,” Bshibari, and Tkaidch Hizakurige;
Kikugor
VI tells the audience that he is prepared to die on stage in
case of an air raid; April 28, Mussolini is executed by Italian partisans;
April 30, Hitler commits suicide.
May May 6, great Uzaemon XV dies (72), with his last performance in
October 1944 at Meiji-za as Sanemori in Sanemori Monogatari and
Gonpachi in Gonpachi Yume Hitosuji; May 7, Germany surrenders; May
25, Shinbashi Enbuj
and Kabuki-za are destroyed by B-29 firebomb-
ing, but the outer walls of both remain standing; the only kabuki dur-
ing the month is at Kyoto’s Minami-za, with a scene each from Ch
shingura and Omoide Soga.
July No kabuki anywhere until July 31, when Kichiemon I’s troupe
performs Tsuri Onna and the “Kumiuchi” scene from Ichinotani Futaba
Gunki at Koongaku-d
concert hall, Hibiya Park.
August August 6, Sakura Tai, a touring shingeki company, is in Hiroshima
when atom bomb is dropped; nine actors die, including well-known
Maruyama Sadao; August 9, atom bomb dropped on Nagasaki; Aug-
ust 15, war ends, and all theatre and film production ceases for a
week; August 22, limits on lengths of performances lifted; August 28,
Maj. Faubion Bowers lands at Atsugi Airfield; August 30, Gen. Douglas
MacArthur lands at Atsugi.
September September 1, T
ky
Gekij
, unscathed, resumes production, with
Ennosuke II’s company doing Kurozuka and Tkaidch Hizakurige;
other theatres, such as Tokyo’s Shinjuku Daiichi Gekij
and H
gaku-
za, Osaka’s Kabuki-za, and Kyoto’s Minami-za follow suit; September
2, instrument of surrender signed on board the U.S.S. Missouri in
Tokyo Bay; September 10, GHQ promulgates directive with five arti-
cles regarding the freedom of the press; September 11, arrest of T
j

Hideki and other war criminals; September 14, D
mei Tsshin, the
national news agency, is shut down; September 18, Asahi Shinbun
newspaper closed for two days; September 22, GHQ’s Civil Informa-
tion and Education Section (CI&E) admonishes the film industry to
 Kabuki Chronology, 1940–1948 149

promote democratization and abandon militarism; same day, “United

States Initial Post-Surrender Policy for Japan” is made known; kabuki
actors such as Sh
roku II, Nakamura Matagor
II, and Kawarasaki
Kunitar
V are demobilized and attempt to return to the stage.
October October 2, CI&E requires democratic drama; October 3, Kubota
Mantar
’s adaptation of Mizukami Takitar
’s Ginza Fukk is produced
at Teikoku Gekij
on the same bill with Kagamijishi, featuring Kiku-
gor
VI’s company; October 4, “thought police” abolished; October 8,
shingeki director Hijikata Yoshizawa is released after over four years
in prison; October 10, GHQ abolishes Japanese wartime produc-
tion controls; October 18, Sh
chiku presents a summary of “Tera-
koya” to GHQ.
November November 4, combined K
shir
VII and Kichiemon I troupe
opens at T
ky
Gekij
with the first postwar two-bills-a-day pro-
gram; afternoon bill: Sakura Giminden and a travel dance (michiyuki)
from Senbon Zakura; evening bill: “Terakoya” and Futa Omote Shinobu
Sugata-e; November 6, zaibatsu (economic conglomerates) are dissolved;
November 7, GHQ orders banning and incinerating all films dealing
with ultranationalism, militarism, and feudalism; November 9, GHQ
presents Sh
chiku and other entertainment conglomerates with pro-
duction guidelines, including a request that, as of December 1, 30 per-
cent or more of all plays be modern works; November 15 or 16, GHQ
orders “Terakoya” shut down as excessively feudalistic; GHQ order
takes effect on November 20, with a new program arrangement
commencing November 21; November 19, GHQ places a ban on 236
Japanese films; examination soon begins of which kabuki plays con-
tribute to democratization and which are inimical to it; at the end of
month, Sh
chiku forms the Association for the Examination of Enter-
tainment and Culture (Gein
Bunka Kent
Kai) to consider all kabuki
scripts.
December December 4, Association for the Examination of Entertainment and
Culture meets with censors to discuss producible plays; Ennosuke II,
Kataoka Nizaemon XII, and Sawamura S
jr
VII star at T
ky

Gekij
in a new play, Tochi no Hito, and kabuki’s Nigatsud and Sannin
Katawa on the afternoon bill; Akoya, Renjishi, and new play Sasaki
Takazuna are on evening bill; the program satisfies the GHQ request
for 30 percent new plays; December 7, Nakamura Tsuruz
IV, kabuki
actor in Zenshin-za company, dies (46); December 17, women’s suf-
frage enacted; December 24, GHQ appropriates the Tokyo Takarazuka
Gekij
to use for entertaining troops; December 26–28, Sakura no
Sono, the first postwar production by a shingeki company, is performed
at Yraku-za; December 31, Cabinet Information Board is abolished
and a new division of the Ministry of Education is established to
oversee arts.
150 Appendix A

1946
January January 1, Emperor Hirohito renounces his divinity; January 10,
farewell party for Capt. John Boruff at Sakae-ya restaurant, with the-
atre and censor representatives present; Boruff suggests repertoire be
increased to 50 percent new works and that kabuki close down for
several years; under Lt. Hal Keith, censorship becomes more severe;
January 11, Sh
chiku representatives are chastised by Keith for feu-
dalistic repertory and told to provide repertory including 50 percent
new plays; January 20, Tky Shinbun article, “KABUKI TO BE ABOL-
ISHED: HEREAFTER, ONLY DANCE TO BE PERFORMED,” announces
Sh
chiku’s intention to practically eliminate production of major
kabuki plays; January 22, Sh
chiku revises its position; January 23,
Asahi Shinbun publishes a rebuttal article, “KABUKI NOT TO BE
ABOLISHED.”
February tani Takejir
, head of Sh
chiku, publishes an essay in Engekikai
supportive of kabuki; Ennosuke II and actress Mizutani Yaeko costar
in Funabashi Seichi’s Takiguchi Nyd no Koi at T
ky
Gekij
; con-
troversy erupts over the kissing scene; Osaka’s Bunraku-za reopens;
Madame Curie, the first American movie shown in five years, opens;
February 12, Japan Theatre Cooperative Association (Nihon Engeki
Ky
kai) dissolved and playwrights, directors, and stage designers form
a theatrical union, while critics form a theatrical PEN (Poets, Essayists,
Novelists) Club; February 23, article expressing Bowers’s positive
views on kabuki appears in the Tky Shinbun; February 24, GHQ
renames Takarazuka Theatre, appropriated in December, the Ernie
Pyle Theatre, after the popular American war correspondent killed in
Okinawa; no Japanese allowed at shows there; February 28, purges
of public officials begin.
March First postwar presentation starring both Kiku-Kichi combination
of Kichiemon I and Kikugor
VI at Teikoku Gekij
, with Shisen Ry,

dera Gakk, Takatoki, Musuko, and Yasuna; theatre tickets over 3 yen
50 sen are taxed 10 percent; those below are taxed 5 percent; March
16, onnagata Nizaemon XII is ax-murdered (65) at his Sendagaya
home, along with four other household members; March 20, the
killer is found and explains that Nizaemon had not fed him well
enough; March 22–April 10, all Osaka theatres are closed because of
an outbreak of typhoid fever.
April Ennosuke II and Mizutani Yaeko do another Funabashi play, Shun-
shoku Satsuma Uta, at T
ky
Gekij
; emphasis on mixed Western and
Japanese music and eroticism creates the name “tendency kabuki”
(keik kabuki) for such works; Kawarasaki Kaoru becomes Kawara-
saki Gonzabur
III (later Kawarasaki Gonjr
II) at T
ky
Gekij
;
April 24, GHQ bans the public prostitution system; April 25, T
min
Gekij
in Tokyo’s Ueno Ward opens.
 Kabuki Chronology, 1940–1948 151

May T
ky
Gekij
presents the first postwar all-star kabuki, starring
K
shir
VII, Kichiemon I, S
jr
VII, and Kikugor
VI; K
shir
’s
grandson, Matsumoto Kintar
(later K
shir
IX), debuts in Sukeroku,
playing a child medicine peddler, with K
shir
as Sukeroku, and his
other grandfather, Kichiemon, as Iky; same bill includes Kanjinch,
the first feudalistic play released from censorship; K
shir
VII plays
Benkei in Kanjinch, Kichiemon I plays Togashi, and Kikugor
plays
Yoshitsune; Kikugor
VI stars in Benten Koz and Kichiemon I in
Satomi Ton’s 1921 Shinj; a new theatre magazine, Makuai, appears
and continues until 1961; May 3, commencement of the Far East
International Tribunal.
June Follow-up production of Sukeroku at T
ky
Gekij
, starring Ichi-
kawa Ebiz
IX, eldest son of K
shir
VII, in the title role, with Shikan
VII and Kikunosuke III alternating as Agemaki; Ebiz
, whose casting
is urged by Bowers, is propelled to prominence.
July July 2, T
ky
Gekij
presents Kanjinch and Benten Koz, the first
special kabuki presentations organized by Bowers for the entertain-
ment and education of Occupation troops.
August Ichikawa Takashi becomes Ichikawa Sh
ch
III (later Ichikawa
Monnosuke VII); news from China confirms the death there on
December 10, 1945, of kabuki actor Onoe Eizabur
VIII, of war-
related illness (22).
October Major break in censorship when “Kumagai Jinya” is produced at
T
ky
Gekij
starring Kichiemon I; Kataoka Hikojin (later Kataoka
Hidetar
II) debuts at Kyoto’s Minami-za; October 15, Osaka’s Naniwa-
za reopens.
November Bowers resigns Army commission and works under Ernst as a
censor; H
gaku-za is taken over by British troops for their own use
and renamed Picadilly Theatre; many actors in Kikugor
VI troupe
sign names to a petition requesting improvement in the standard of
living; November 3, the new Japanese constitution promulgated; No-
vember 16, cabinet decrees a simplified Sino-Japanese character list
(ty kanji) and revised syllabary; November 22, Mitsukoshi Hall opens
in Tokyo’s Nihonbashi Mitsukoshi Department Store.
December Mitsukoshi Hall changes its name to Mitsukoshi Gekij
and begins
to produce plays, starting on December 10 with kabuki performed by
the Kichiemon I troupe; such productions come to be known as Mitsu-
koshi Kabuki; December 7, pathbreaking shinpa actress Kawakami
Sakayakko, famed in West for introducing Japanese theatre there,
dies (67); December 19, beginning of war in IndoChina.

1947
January Ichikawa Danko III (later Ennosuke III) debuts at T
ky
Gekij
,
dancing Senz
in Ninin Sanbas; admission costs 15–55 yen, tax in-
152 Appendix A

cluded; in honor of the thirteenth anniversary of Ganjir
I’s death,

Nakamura Ganjaku IV becomes Ganjir
II, acting Jihei in Kamiya Jihei
at Osaka’s Kabuki-za; power shortages force all theatres in Tokyo’s
Asakusa neighborhood to close temporarily; Japan’s first strip shows
begin on the fifth floor of Teito Gekij
in Shinjuku.
February At T
ky
Gekij
, Kakitsu VII, playing Gor
in Soga no Taimen and
Kanpei in Ochiudo, becomes Uzaemon XVI, and Kikunosuke III, play-
ing Jr
in Soga no Taimen and Okaru in Ochiudo, becomes Onoe Baik

VII; admission costs 20–60 yen, tax included.
March Bowers arranges for bunraku to be freed from censorship; Kichie-
mon I and Ennosuke II star at T
ky
Gekij
in “Sodehagi Saimon,”
in which suicides of Sodehagi and Kenj
Naotaka are given the green
light by GHQ; on the same bill, S
jr
VII, whose work was acclaimed
in December 1946 at Shinjuku Daiichi Gekij
in Genyadana and in
January 1947 at Mitsukoshi Gekij
in the “Kawasho” scene of Shinj
Ten no Amijima, achieves further renown for his role as a young lover
(wagoto) in Ninokuchi Mura; term “S
jr
kabuki” becomes popular.
April K
shir
VII, Kikugor
VI, Kichiemon I, and other theatrical figures
become members of the prestigious Nihon Geijutsu-in (Japan Acad-
emy of Arts); theatre magazine Gekisaku is revived.
May Kabuki performances begun at T
ky
Gekij
in April and continu-
ing into May are interrupted for the full-length production (tshi -
 ) of Sugawara, starring Kichiemon I, for which Bowers is respon-
sible; the play is produced under the rubric of the “Dan-Kiku Festival,”
honoring Meiji period actors Ichikawa Danjr
IX and Onoe Kiku-
gor
V; Ichikawa Otora (later Ichikawa Sadanji IV) debuts, playing
Kan Shsai; admission costs from 30–80 yen, tax included; May 1,
formation of national theatre and film union (Zeneien); May 3, Japa-
nese constitution becomes law; May 10, kabuki actor Ichikawa Ensh

dies (54).
June Emperor Hirohito visits Osaka’s Bunraku-za, where he sees a
puppet version of Senbon Zakura and other works.
July The 1943 film Kanjinch receives its first showing at Hibiya Eiga
Gekij
.
August Power shortages cause all theatres to close for three days each week;
the best-selling novel about prostitution, Nikutai no Mon, is drama-
tized and becomes enormous hit.
September Kikugor
VI troupe revives Ky
gen-za, a short-lived group that
young Kikugor
formed in the late Meiji period with female play-
wright Hasegawa Shigure to produce plays they cocreated; they pro-
duce Nans Satomi Hakkenden at Teikoku Gekij
; late September, first
postwar visit of bunraku to Tokyo, at T
ky
Gekij
.
October October 1, a special bunraku performance at T
ky
Gekij
for Occu-
pation troops; program includes Horikawa Nami no Tsuzumi and the
 Kabuki Chronology, 1940–1948 153

travel dance from Senbon Zakura; October 3, Nagoya’s Misono-za

reopens with ceremonial events; October 5, kabuki performances
begin, starring Nakamura Baigyoku III and Ganjir
II; October 5,
T
ky
Gekij
presents “Arts Festival: Grand Kabuki” performances of
Meiboku Sendai Hagi, “Moritsuna Jinya,” and Kagotsurube, kabuki plays
showing feudal loyalty and murder, subjects that were previously
banned; October 10, Far East International Tribunal declares the em-
peror free of war responsibility.
November Nagayama Takeomi, future president of Sh
chiku, begins to work
for the company as a night watchman at T
ky
Gekij
; nearly full-
length, all-star Chshingura is produced at T
ky
Gekij
to sell-out
crowds; November 5, theatre magazine Higeki Kigeki begins publica-
tion; November 8, Theatre and Culture Committee (Engeki Bunka Iin-
kai) begins deliberations for the realization of national theatre; No-
vember 9, the Shakespeare stage in front of the Theatre Museum at
Waseda University receives its first production when Zenshin-za pre-
sents The Merchant of Venice; November 23, Asakusa Kokusai Gekij

reopens; November 29, selected scenes from    are shown
to the empress and the emperor’s mother at Kabuki-za, their first visit
ever to kabuki; November 30, Osaka’s Kado-za reopens.
December Tax on admissions rises to 15 percent after having been reduced in
March; the tax continues in place until March 1950, when tax reforms
are instituted; Shinjuku Daiichi Gekij
becomes a movie house; Mitsu-
gor
VII and Baigyoku III are made members of Nihon Geijutsu-in;
Kikugor
VI, Kichiemon I, Baik
VII, and Shikan VII are selected the
best kabuki actors of the year by Geijutsu Sai (Arts Festival).

1948
January January 1, Osaka’s Naka-za reopens; Nakamura Komanusuke VII
becomes Arashi Sanemon XI there; January 4, long-distance telephone
service commences between the United States and Japan.
February Ministry of Education establishes a committee to investigate the
condition of classical performing arts as a way of preserving them;
specialists select performing arts materials for preservation on film and
records; production of the full-length Senbon Zakura at T
ky
Gekij

with young stars, including the three sons of K
shir
VII—Ebiz
IX,
Sh
roku II, and Somegor
V—along with Shikan VII and Baik
VII.
March tani Hirotaru becomes tani Tomoemon VII at T
ky
Gekij
,
playing Yoshitsune in Ogiya Kumagai; first-class seats 180 yen, second-
class seats 100 yen, third-class seats fifty yen; March 6, leading modern
playwright Kikuchi Kan, author of Tjr no Koi, dies (61); March 18,
onnagata great Baigyoku III dies (74) on the day he is made a member
of Nihon Geijutsu-in; same day, Shinbashi Enbuj
opens after a year’s
reconstruction; from March 22–28, it revives “Azuma Odori” geisha
154 Appendix A

dances for first time in eight years; March 21, leading shin kabuki
playwright Mayama Seika dies (61).
April Shinbashi Enbuj
presents the first kabuki since reopening, fea-
turing Sukeroku, with Kikugor
VI in the title role; K
shir
VII,
S
jr
VII, and Baik
VII play supporting roles and Baik
’s son,
Onoe Ushinosuke V (later Kikugor
VII), debuts as the courtesan’s
handmaiden; narrative singer Kiyomoto Eijuday becomes Kiyomoto
Enjuday VI, which is announced in midperformance by Kikugor

and K
shir
; Ichikawa Sh
jo Kabuki (Ichikawa All-Girls’ Kabuki)
company is formed in Toyokawa City, Aichi Prefecture.
May May 19, seventy-seven members of Bunraku-za form a union and
join the national film and theatre union; Bowers leaves Japan to
travel through Asia with Santha Rama Rau.
June Somegor
V’s younger son, Nakamura Mannosuke (later Kichie-
mon II), debuts at T
ky
Gekij
playing Ch
matsu in Manaita no
Chbei, with grandfather, Kichiemon I, as Banzuin Ch
bei; he also
plays Komawakamaru in “Sakaro”; progress is made on rebuilding
Kabuki-za, including meetings begun with GHQ architectural and
theatre specialists, who place various conditions on the project (which
is completed in January 1951); conditions—none of which are actu-
ally fulfilled—include Sh
chiku’s agreement not to have a monopoly
on production, kabuki not to occupy more than 50 percent of the
annual programming, and the theatre to be named T
min Gekij

Kabuki-Za (Tokyo Citizens Kabuki Theatre); June 29, committee
formed to establish Kabuki-za Joint Stock Corporation, with recon-
struction capitalized at 100 million yen.
July July 29, plans completed for the new Kabuki-za by Yoshida Isoya,
architecture professor at T
ky
Bijutsu Gakk
(Tokyo School of Fine
Arts; now T
ky
Geijutsu Gakk
[Tokyo School of the Arts]); build-
ing to commence in October 1949; capitalization increased to 200
million yen; Osaka’s Kado-za becomes a movie house for foreign
films.
August Formal agreement signed by GHQ, Tokyo government, and Sh

chiku to allow rebuilding of Kabuki-za; August 1–6, a strike by Sh

chiku workers is brought to a peaceful conclusion when the manage-
ment agrees to workers’ demands; August 18, Mitsugor
VII becomes
a member of Nihon Geijutsu-in.
September September 21, city government and Sh
chiku complete negotia-
tions on Kabuki-za, with promises of city support.
October October 10, imperial prince sees Merchant of Venice, starring Enno-
suke II and Mizutani Yaeko, at T
ky
Gekij
.
December Bunraku-za splits into two factions, Mitsuwakai and Chinamikai,
the former freeing itself from Sh
chiku control.
Appendix B

Kabuki Plot Summaries

  

The summaries that follow are limited to plays mentioned in the main text and are
listed according to the titles given there. They are not intended to be comprehensive
accounts of the plays they describe but are meant only to provide a brief account of
the principal action as well as some basic background regarding genre, author, date,
and available translations. Some of this material is already included in the text but,
with some alterations, is reproduced here. Detailed plot summaries and backgrounds
on these and almost all other kabuki plays in the repertory may be found in Samuel
L. Leiter, New Kabuki Encyclopedia: A Revised Adaptation of Kabuki Jiten (1997).
Please note that titles are given in two forms: italicized with no quotation
marks and unitalicized titles in quotation marks. The latter are works that are
scenes from longer plays, and although they may stand alone as independent plays,
other scenes from the original plays are sometimes still produced. Italicized titles
are either works that, while they may once have been part of a longer play, are
now all that is commonly performed of those plays or the longer plays themselves.

Akoya no Kotozeme (Akoya’s Koto Torture)

The third act of Dan no Ura Kabuto Gunki (Helmet Chronicles of Battle of Dan no Ura),
a history play written by Bunkod
and others and produced in Osaka by the puppet
theatre in 1732. The first kabuki version was performed in 1733. The full-length play
concerns a great medieval general, Kagekiyo, who fought the Genji (Minamoto) on
behalf of the Heike (Taira) clan. Akoya no Kotozeme tells how Kagekiyo’s courtesan
mistress, Akoya, is interrogated by Hatakeyama Shigetada of the Genji to learn Kage-
kiyo’s whereabouts. Shigetada disdains using the water torture in favor of forcing
Akoya to play three different musical instruments to see by the tone of her playing
if she is telling the truth regarding her claim to not know where her lover is. When
her playing betrays no discordance, her sincerity is believed and she is pardoned.

155
156 Appendix B

Awa no Naruto (The Whirlpool of Awa)

An adaptation of a 1768 domestic play written for the puppet theatre by Chika-
matsu Hanji and others. It was first seen in kabuki in 1790. This treatment is one of
many dealing with the same story. Only the eighth act, “Junrei Uta” (“The Pilgrim’s
Song”), is still produced. The need to search for a stolen sword has led the samurai
Jr
bei and his wife, Oyumi, to assume the appearance of bandits. While Jr
bei is
away, a pilgrim girl comes to their home, singing a pilgrim’s song. Oyumi soon dis-
cerns that the girl is her child, left behind when she and her spouse went under-
cover. She sends the child away without revealing their relationship, but then de-
cides to find her and tell her the truth. She is too late, though, as Jr
bei, in need
of money for his master, runs into her and murders her for the cash she is carrying,
unaware that she is his daughter until his wife informs him of it. A letter on the
child’s body reveals the sword’s whereabouts, but it is recovered only after Jr
bei
and Oyumi fight their way out of a police attack during which their home is burned
down and the child is cremated in the conflagration.

Banch
Sarayashiki (The Gang Leader and the Mansion of Plates)

A shin kabuki play by Okamoto Kid
, first produced in 1916. Based on an old ghost
drama, it is set in the mid-seventeenth century and tells of how a young lord of
hatamoto (bannerman) status, Aoyama Harima, becomes enraged when his mistress,
the lady-in-waiting Okiku, breaks one of his heirloom plates. He is angry not so
much because of the damage but because her jealousy led her to distrust him so
much that she broke the plate to test his affections. Shocked that his love was
doubted, he smashes the remaining plates to show how meaningless they are to
him and counts them as he destroys them. He then kills Okiku and throws her down
a well. She is grateful to die, though, because he has proved his sincerity. A transla-
tion by Linda Hoaglund is in Mitsuko Unno, ed., You Mean to Say You Still Don’t Know
Who We Are? (Ashiya: Personally Oriented, 1976).

B
shibari (Tied to a Pole)

A 1915 comic dance play, borrowed from the ky
gen theatre, with text by Okamura
Shik
 Its performance style resembles the original, including a scenic design modeled
after the n
-ky
gen stage and ky
gen-style costumes. Two servants, Tar
and Jir
, are
left behind by their daimy
master—who fears they will drink his precious sake—
with one’s hands tied to a shoulder pole and the other’s hands behind his back.
Despite their bonds, they manage to drink the sake anyway and get drunk, in which
condition the master finds them and chases them away.

Chj
-hime (Princess Chj
)

The popular name of Hibariyama Hime Sutematsu (The Princess and the Discarded Pine
on Mount Hibari), a 1740 puppet play by Namiki S
suke. This history drama—one
of a number dealing with the same story—is about plans to usurp imperial power.
The emperor entrusts Princess Chj
with a sacred idol, but, because of her wicked
 Kabuki Plot Summaries 157

stepmother’s plotting, it is stolen and the princess is accused of its theft. Chj
real-
izes the theft is part of a plan to usurp the throne. The stepmother, Iwane Gozen,
tries to kill Chj
by torturing her in the snow, pretending she is investigating the
icon’s whereabouts. The princess, who has fainted, is rescued by two friendly noble-
women who claim that she is dead. Later, her father is ordered to kill her, another
young woman attempts to substitute herself for the princess, the stepmother is
slain, and Chj
, experiencing a form of enlightenment, chooses to redeem her
stepmother’s crimes by becoming a nun. Her act is rewarded by a manifestation to
her of the Buddha.

 (The Treasury of Loyal Retainers)

The popular name for Kanadehon Chshingura, a 1748 Osaka puppet play by Takeda
Izumo, Miyoshi Sh
raku, and Namiki S
suke, which was soon after adapted by
kabuki. The sensitive young daimyo, Enya Hangan, driven to an act of violence by
the wicked Lord 
  Moronao—who is upset because Hangan’s wife, Kaoyo,
spurned his lecherous advances—is forced to commit ritual suicide. Under the leader-
ship of steward boshi Yuranosuke, Hangan’s forty-seven loyal retainers pretend
to have abandoned any thoughts of revenge, although they plot their vendetta in
secret. One of these men, the handsome young Kanpei, considers himself responsible
for Hangan’s tragedy, because Kanpei was dallying with his girlfriend, Okaru, when
he should have been at his lord’s side. Later, following various complications, in-
cluding Kanpei’s accidental killing of the evil young samurai, Sadakur
, Kanpei,
thinking he has slain his father-in-law, commits suicide at his rural cottage. How-
ever, he manages to redeem himself in the eyes of the other retainers, who also re-
quire a financial contribution toward the vendetta, and is allowed to be a posthu-
mous member of their group. To raise the needed money, Okaru, now Kanpei’s wife,
is sold into prostitution in Kyoto’s Gion section. One of the most famous scenes
takes place at Gion’s Ichiriki teahouse, where Yuranosuke throws Moronao’s spies
off their guard by his dissolute behavior. During the scene, Okaru, whose brother
wants to join the vendetta, learns of the plot. This endangers her life, but Yurano-
suke, who might have killed her, has Okaru kill a Moronao spy instead. A travel
dance (michiyuki) follows, during which the bride of Yuranosuke’s son makes her
way to their wedding. In the subsequent wedding scene, enmity between the bride’s
and groom’s parents erupts, but all is forgiven after the girl’s father, Honz
, allows
himself to be slain by Yuranosuke’s son, thereby wiping out the stain of an act that
had alienated him from Yuranosuke. After a scene in which Amikawaya Gihei, a
Sakai merchant, proves his loyalty to the vendetta, the play concludes on a snowy
night in the twelfth lunar month with the successful conclusion of the vendetta. This
masterpiece is known in English by a number of titles. Donald Keene’s translation
is Chshingura: The Treasury of Loyal Retainers (New York: Columbia University Press,
1971). See also the kabuki adaptation by James R. Brandon, Junko Berberich, and
Michael Feldman, “The Forty-Seven Samurai: A Kabuki Version of Chshingura,”
in James R. Brandon, ed., Chshingura: Studies in Kabuki and the Puppet Theatre
(Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 1982).
158 Appendix B

Echigo Jishi (Lion of Echigo)

An 1811 dance play, text by Shinoda Kinji. The only remaining part of a dance play
in which the star performed seven different characters, it depicts, Kakubei, a street
entertainer from Echigo, who has come to Edo, where he makes his living doing a
folk dance.

Ejima Ikushima (Lady Ejima and the Actor Ikushima)

There are many plays and dances about the actual love affair of the court lady Ejima
and the kabuki actor Ikushima Shingor
, which transpired in 1714. The story is fa-
mous because it is about how the illicit mingling of classes so enraged the shogunate
that it permanently closed down the Yamamura-za, the theatre where the lovers had
their trysts, and it severely punished them. It is not clear which version is referred
to in the text, but it is probably the 1916 shin kabuki play by Migita Torahiko.

Futa Omote (Twin Faces)

One of a number of similarly named dances in which two identical-looking char-
acters, usually dressed as fern sellers, perform together. Often, the angry ghost of a
departed lover inhabits one of the characters. This is true of the version shown in
1945, which also forms part of the play popularly called Hokaib
(1784) after its
chief character, a scurrilous defrocked priest. Hokaib
, by Nagawa Shimesuke, more
formally called Sumidagawa Gonichi no Omokage (Latter-Day Reflections of the Sumida
River), is a four-act play of which one act shows the lovers, Okumi and Yosuke, dis-
guised as fern sellers. Princess Nowake had also loved Yosuke but was killed by the
evil Hokaib
, who told her Yosuke was behind the deed, which caused her to die in
a fit of jealous rage. Soon, Hokaib
is also killed and returns as a ghost. Okumi and
Yosuke arrive at the Sumida River ferry, where they pray for Nowake’s soul. The
fearsome ghosts of both Nowake and Hokaib
appear and disappear. Then Hokaib

manifests himself as a double of Okumi, confusing Yosuke, who cannot tell the real
Okumi from the false one. With the help of the wise ferryboat woman, Hokaib
’s
identity becomes clear and—in action parodying the famous dance called Musume
D
j
ji (described later in this appendix)—a large temple bell descends to contain him.
His ghost is eventually quelled by a demon-queller (oshimodoshi) superman, and
the piece ends in a dramatic tableau. A translation is in Mitsuko Unno, ed., You
Mean to Say You Still Don’t Know Who We Are? (Ashiya: Personally Oriented, 1976).

“Genyadana” (a place name)

Also called Kirare Yosa, among other popular titles, it refers to the romantic play for-
mally known as Yowa Nasake Ukina no Yokogushi (A Haircomb Aslant in a Rumored
Story of Love). It is an Edo domestic play by Segawa Jok
III, written in 1853. The
“Genyadana” scene shows Yosabur
reencountering his former mistress, Otomi.
The pair had been separated after their affair had been discovered by her patron, a
powerful gangster, and Yosabur
was cut in thirty-four places by the gangster’s
men. Otomi tried to drown herself but was saved by Tazaemon, a clerk, who was
 Kabuki Plot Summaries 159

passing in a boat, and with whom she took up residence, although not becoming
his sexual partner. Three years later, Yosabur
, now known as “Scarface Yosa”
(Kirare Yosa), his face and body crisscrossed with red scars, has become a rogue and
extortionist and is partnered with the scurrilous “K
mori” (“Bat”) Yasugor
. They
come to Tazaemon’s residence in Genyadana, in Kamakura, to squeeze money from
Otomi, but Yosa is unaware that it is his former mistress they are about to encounter.
When he realizes it, he refuses the money that Yasugor
has extorted, and—hurt
by what he deems her betrayal—seeks an even larger sum. She, however, confesses
her still warm love for him. Tazaemon enters and chastises the intruders, although
Otomi lies that Yosa is her brother. Yosa is given fifteen ry
to start a new business,
and the two scamps depart, splitting the money between them. A translation is in
A. C. Scott, Genyadana: A Japanese Kabuki Play (Tokyo: Hokuseido, 1953).

Go Taiheiki Shiroishi Banashi (The Tale of Shiroishi and the Taihei Chronicles)
A history play written for Osaka’s puppets in 1780 by Ki no Jotar
et al. It is based
on an actual vendetta carried out, after six years, by two teenage sisters on the
samurai who killed their father, a peasant. The most commonly performed scene
takes place in the Daikokuya, a brothel in Edo’s Shin Yoshiwara quarters, where
the older sister, Miyagino, is employed as a respected courtesan. The younger sister,
Onobu, comes to Edo in search of her sister, whom she has not seen in years, and
receives employment as a maid at the Daikokuya, where she is ridiculed for her
country dialect. The refined Miyagino and the rustic Onobu are reunited—the con-
trast in their speech and manners is a major reason for the play’s success—and the
latter tells her older sibling of their father’s death at the hands of the evil village
magistrate. The sisters, hoping they can be as successful as the famous Soga brothers,
decide to take revenge and are encouraged by the proprietor, who urges them to
study the martial arts with a famed practitioner. The sisters take up the challenge,
Onobu becomes Shinobu, and, with the aid of their fencing master, they achieve
vengeance. A translation by Alan Cummings is in James R. Brandon and Samuel L.
Leiter, eds., Villainy and Vengeance: Kabuki Plays On Stage, 1760–1800 (Honolulu: Uni-
versity of Hawai‘i Press, forthcoming).


  
(Five-Gallon Sanbas
)

Also known as Yoshitsune Koshigoej
(Yoshitsune’s Message at Koshigoe), it was
written for Osaka’s puppets in 1754 by Chirosu Aruji or Namiki Eisuke. The play is
set in the Kamakura period (1192–1333) but is intended to reflect events sur-
rounding the 1615 overthrow of Osaka Castle by the Tokugawa shogunate. It was
first staged in kabuki in 1761. Minamoto Yoshitsune is experiencing friction with
his brother, the shogun Minamoto Yoritomo. At his Horikawa mansion, he is un-
willing to heed warnings regarding the proximity of Yoritomo’s forces and is in-
dulging in a dissolute lifestyle. His anxious regent, Izumi, arrives with the master-
less samurai Got
, a heavy drinker who enrages Yoshitsune when he gets drunk.
The inebriated Got
even does a comical battle dance. He then arrives at Izumi’s
house, where his wife, Sekij
, unaware of his former samurai life, awaits him with
160 Appendix B

their daughter. His drunkenness so disturbs Sekij
that she acquires a letter of
divorce from him and departs. When a rifle shot is fired, the sleeping Got
awakens
instantly, ready for action, only to learn that Izumi shot a blank to test his pre-
paredness. Got
has been faking drunkenness to throw Yoshitsune’s enemies off
guard. Got
goes to work as a strategist for Yoshitsune, his wife apologizes for her
rashness, and their daughter commits suicide for her mother’s actions. Sekij
leaves
with a rifle in hopes of slaying Yoritomo.

“Hikimado” (“Skylight”)
The eighth act of the nine-act domestic drama Futatsu Ch
ch
Kuruwa Nikki (Diary
of Two Butterflies of the Pleasure Quarters), a 1749 Osaka puppet play by Takeda
Izumo II et al., first seen in kabuki in 1753. This famous act tells of Ch
gor
, a
sumo wrestler sought for having killed four men (he was coming to the rescue of
others). He appears at the village home of his stepmother, Osachi, and she allows
him to hide out on the second floor. Osachi’s biological son, Y
hei, returns home
beaming with pride for having been promoted to samurai status and made village
headman, his first duty being to capture the fugitive Ch
gor
. Ch
gor
, upstairs,
observes a quarrel in which Y
hei’s wife, Ohaya, begs her husband not to arrest
Ch
gor
. But Y
hei sees the wrestler’s reflection and realizes that he is Osachi’s
adopted son. To disguise Ch
gor
, whose likeness is on a wanted poster, his step-
mother shaves off his forelock, and Y
hei, unable to openly assist the fugitive,
tosses a packet of money, which slices off his identifying facial mole. Feeling guilty,
Ch
gor
begs to be turned in and causes Osachi to bind him, but Y
hei cuts the
bonds and, because his responsibility was to extend only through the hours of night,
opens the skylight, allowing dawn’s light to stream in so that Ch
gor
can escape.
Matthew Johnson has translated this act in James R. Brandon and Samuel L. Leiter,
eds., Villainy and Vengeance: Kabuki Plays On Stage, 1760–1800 (Honolulu: University
of Hawai‘i Press, forthcoming).

Hiragana Seisuiki (A Beginner’s Version of the Rise and Fall of the Heike Clan)
A five-act history drama written in 1739 for Osaka’s puppet theatre by Matsuda
Bunkod
et al. In 1740 it received its kabuki premiere. This is a long and complex
play set during the Heike and Genji wars and dealing with many typically feudalistic
themes, including a plot by the wicked Kajiwara Heiji Kagetaka to replace his noble
sibling, Kajiwara Genta Kagesue, as the family heir; the need for Genta to commit
seppuku for having allowed someone else to outshine him in valor (Genta was obli-
gated to do so by the rival samurai’s noble action); Genta being prevented from sep-
puku by the even worse punishment of being disinherited; the substitution of chil-
dren from different social levels for one another; the switch of identities made by
the warrior Kanemitsu, who has been living as the boatman Matsuemon in order
to await the opportunity to take vengeance on Yoshitsune and the Genji clan; the
teaching by Matsuemon/Kanemitsu of a secret military art of rowing (sakaro) to
enemy samurai—part of his treacherous plan to harm Yoshitsune—when he is
attacked by his pupils, whom he throws into the sea; Matsuemon’s attempt to
 Kabuki Plot Summaries 161

escape from his pursuers; his eventual capture; and Genta overcoming the obsta-
cles to redeeming himself in battle when, needing money to pay for his armor, he
gains the cash, supposedly through a miracle but really because of the secret gener-
osity of his supposedly estranged mother. The “Sakaro” scene has been translated
by Matthew Johnson in James R. Brandon and Samuel L. Leiter, eds., Brilliance and
Bravado: Kabuki Plays On Stage, 1700–1760 (Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press,
forthcoming).

Ichinotani Futaba Gunki

See “Kumagai Jinya.”

Kagami Jishi (Mirror Lion)

An 1893 dance with text by Fukuchi chi. In the dance, beautiful Yayoi, a lady-in-
waiting, practices a dance number in preparation for New Year’s celebrations at
Edo Castle. Frightened at first, she gradually gains confidence and dances with var-
ious props, such as fans and hand towels, and then uses a wooden hand mask of a
lion’s head with movable jaws. Stage assistants manipulate prop butterflies near
the lion mask, which snaps at them, until the spirit of the lion itself enters Yayoi
and possesses her, pulling her off on the hanamichi runway. After an interlude
danced by children, the dancer returns, now totally transformed into a powerful,
stamping, masculine lion, with red lines painted on his white face and with a long,
trailing white wig, dramatically manipulated in powerful head movements. The
lion dances with two butterflies, played by the children, until he comes to rest in
a final pose. Paul Griffith has translated Kagami Jishi in James R. Brandon and
Samuel L. Leiter, eds., Restoration and Reform: Kabuki Plays On Stage, 1868–1900
(Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, forthcoming).

Kagotsurube
The shortened title for Kagotsurube Sato no Eizame (The Sobering Tale of the Sword
Kagotsurube), a domestic drama by Kawatake Shinshichi III, first produced in
1888. The action is set largely in the Yoshiwara pleasure quarters and is based on a
true story. The action focuses on the homely, pockmarked farmer, Jir
zaemon, a
master swordsman. He owns a sword called Kagotsurube, which will supposedly
kill instantly if ever unsheathed. The unsophisticated Jir
zaemon, convinced no
woman will ever love him, visits the brothel district, where he is awestruck with
desire on seeing the courtesan Yatsuhashi making her daily progress. Thinking him
a bumpkin, she dismisses him with a laugh. Jir
zaemon spends lavishly on her,
though, and decides to buy her out of bondage, believing that she is fond of him.
When he tries to show off his catch to his provincial friends, she shocks him by pub-
licly reviling him, an action she has been put up to by her real boyfriend, Einoj
.
Jir
zaemon hides his disgrace and returns to his hometown, where he settles his
affairs. He goes back to Yatsuhashi, who wants to ask for his forgiveness. When they
are alone together, he attacks her, drawing Kagotsurube, and slaughters both Yatsu-
hashi and a maid who happens in. He escapes, fights with his pursuers, kills Einoj

162 Appendix B

in a fight, and is finally captured. Much of this drama is translated by Donald

Richie and Miyoko Watanabe in Six Kabuki Plays (Tokyo: Hokuseido, 1963.)

Kamiyui Shinza (Shinza the Barber)

An 1873 Tokyo domestic play by Kawatake Mokuami. Its formal title is Tsuyu Kosode
Mukashi Hachij
(Rainy Season Kimono and Old-Time Silks). Based on a 1727 inci-
dent, it tells of a love affair between shop assistant Chshichi and Okuma, daughter
of a lumber dealer, which is disrupted when Okuma’s mother, seeking to get out of
debt, arranges a marriage for her to someone else. A rascally barber, Shinza, learns
of the lovers’ planned elopement and kidnaps the girl en route, using the situation
to extort money for her release. Eventually, Shinza’s devious ways lead to his death.
A translation by Faith Bach is in James R. Brandon and Samuel L. Leiter, Restora-
tion and Reform: Kabuki Plays On Stage, 1868–1900 (Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i
Press, forthcoming).

   
See Chshingura.

 
(The Subscription List)

Perhaps the most frequently produced kabuki dance-drama, it was first staged in
1840, in Edo. It is an adaptation of the n
play Ataka and is performed in a n
-
inspired style. Minamoto Yoshitsune, pursued by his brother, Minamoto Yoritomo,
the shogun, tries to flee to the north to take refuge with the Fujiwara family. Yoshi-
tsune, the great general, is disguised as a lowly porter, while his men, led by the
faithful Benkei, are dressed as mountain ascetics (yamabushi). They come to the
Ataka barrier gate where the guards, led by Togashi Saemon, suspect the truth
about them, but Togashi is overwhelmed by Benkei’s cleverness and death-defying
loyalty, especially when Benkei harshly beats Yoshitsune with a pole. He decides to
let the band pass through. After his men have left, Benkei stays behind to celebrate
and perform a dance, and then exits dramatically down the hanamichi. For transla-
tions, see James R. Brandon and Tamako Niwa, trans., Kabuki Plays (New York:
Samuel French, 1966) and A. C. Scott, trans., Kanjinch
: A Japanese Kabuki Play
(Tokyo: Hokuseido, 1953).

Katsuragawa (The Katsura River)

The shortened title of Katsuragawa Renri no Shigarami (The Katsura River and the
Eternal Bonds of Love), a 1776 Osaka puppet play by Suga Sensuke. The kabuki
version dates from 1777. This domestic drama with a theme of lovers’ suicides
(shinj) is based on an often-dramatized true story. Ch
emon, a middle-aged obi
merchant, married to Okinu, meets Ohan, his Osaka neighbor’s beautiful teenage
daughter, at an inn while traveling home from business. The girl is betrothed to
Ch
emon’s wife’s brother. However, the unlikely pair of Ch
emon and Ohan find
themselves thrown into one another’s arms and fall in love. She also becomes
pregnant by Ch
emon, who suffers the indignity of having a precious sword blade
 Kabuki Plot Summaries 163

stolen by Ch
kichi, an apprentice in love with Ohan. Preparations for the nuptials
of Ohan and Okinu’s brother proceed until Okinu learns of her husband’s affair.
When the news gets out, the family is in turmoil, although the faithful Okinu does
what she can to protect her spouse from family disgrace. Ultimately, Ch
emon can
bear his shame no longer and, hurrying after Ohan, follows her to the Katsura
River, where they drown themselves.

Kawasho (The Kawasho Teahouse)

One of several alternate titles (another is Kamiya Jihei) for Shinj Ten no Amijima
(Love Suicides at Amijima), a famous love suicide (shinj) play based on an actual
incident and written by Chikamatsu Monzaemon for Osaka’s puppets in 1720.
Many versions have been seen in kabuki, but the first one faithful to Chikamatsu’s
original was staged in 1922. Kamiya (Paper Seller) Jihei, married with two children,
is having an affair with Koharu, a Kyoto courtesan. Jihei’s faithful wife, Osan,
writes to Koharu, hoping to end the relationship. Complicating things is the mean-
spirited but well-to-do Tahei, whom Koharu despises. He threatens to ransom
Koharu and thereby disrupt her affair with Jihei. A samurai visits Koharu at the
Kawasho teahouse and gets rid of the annoying Tahei. Listening outside is the
jealous Jihei. The samurai is his brother, Magoemon, in disguise, come to persuade
Koharu to break up with Jihei, with whom she had planned to commit double
suicide. Hearing that she wishes to renege on this plan, Jihei tries unsuccessfully to
stab her through the window and is humiliated when Magoemon ties his arm to
the window. Tahei and his cronies taunt and beat Jihei until they are chased off by
Magoemon, who admonishes his brother that Osan’s father will take his daughter
back if the affair continues. Later, Osan, worried that she herself will be responsible
if Koharu kills herself, decides to sell all her clothes to raise the money so that Jihei
can ransom the courtesan. But her father appears and takes her away with him.
Osan becomes a nun and her marriage is dissolved. Soon after, Jihei and Koharu
sneak away from the Yamatoya teahouse in the dead of night and perform a travel
dance (michiyuki) as they progress to Amijima, where they will die at daybreak.
Translations are in Asataro Miyamori, Masterpieces of Chikamatsu, The Japanese Shake-
speare (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner, 1926); Donald Keene, Major Plays of
Chikamatsu (New York: Columbia University Press, 1961); and Donald H. Shively,
The Love Suicide at Amijima: A Study of a Japanese Domestic Tragedy by Chikamatsu Mon-
zaemon (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1953; reprint, Ann Arbor:
Center for Japanese Studies, The University of Michigan, 1991).

Keya Mura (Keya Village)

The popular title for Hikosan Gongen Chikai no Sukedachi (The Incarnation on Mount
Hiko and the Oath of Assistance), an eleven-act history drama based on a 1596
vendetta. It was written by Umeno Shitakaze and Chikamatsu Yasuz
for Osaka’s
puppet theatre in 1786 and debuted in kabuki in 1790. Only the ninth act is still
seen. The machinations of Ky
goku Takumi have reduced the master swordsman
Rokusuke to living in a mountain village in Kysh. Unbeknownst to Rokusuke, the
164 Appendix B

family of his former fencing master, who was killed by Takumi, undertook to take
revenge on the murderer, but one of the dead man’s daughters and her husband
have been slain. Their abandoned child has been taken in by Rokusuke, who does
not know who the boy’s parents are and has hung his kimono outside in order to
attract someone who might recognize it. Moreover, Rokusuke, swayed by sym-
pathy, has allowed Takumi—disguised as Mijin Daij
—to win a fencing match and
to become the local fencing master, while Rokusuke earns his livelihood as a poor
woodcutter. The slain master’s remaining daughter, Osono, betrothed to Rokusuke,
whom she has never seen, arrives, dressed as a beggar priest. Seeing the kimono
and thinking Rokusuke her enemy, this powerful Amazon tries to kill him. As she
fights with Rokusuke, the truth emerges, and she explains that she has been seek-
ing his help in the vendetta. Soon, she thrashes a spy of Takumi’s, who has been
eavesdropping, and is reunited with her mother, who has been cared for by Roku-
suke, even without knowing her identity. The young couple take their marriage
vows. Rokusuke now learns of Takumi’s recent deception and sets off to dispose of
his enemy in a formal duel.

Kinkakuji (Temple of the Golden Pavilion)

Act IV of Gion Sairei Shink
ki (The Gion Festival Chronicle of Faith), which was
written as a history play for Osaka’s puppet theatre in 1757 by Nakamura Akei
et al. A year later, kabuki’s first version appeared. Only this act is still produced. Set
at Kyoto’s spectacular Temple of the Golden Pavilion, it shows the wicked Matsu-
naga Daizen, now in power after engineering the death of the shogun Yoshiteru and
placing the shogun’s mother, Keijuin, in custody as a hostage in an upper room of
the pavilion. Princess Yuki, daughter of a famous artist, and her husband, Naonobu,
have refused Daizen’s command to paint a dragon on the ceiling of Keijuin’s room,
and Naonobu has been locked up. The heroic samurai
, hoping to free Kei-
juin, seeks entry into Daizen’s service but first must prove his worth at the game of
go. Yuki agrees to become Daizen’s mistress if he will release her husband. When
he loses at go to
, the angry Daizen scatters the pieces and tosses the counter
box into a well, daring
to withdraw it without wetting his hands.

cleverly manages the feat and is accepted into Daizen’s household. Yuki now says
she cannot paint the picture without her father’s book of art secrets. She discovers
that Daizen is the killer of her late father, but she is prevented from killing him in
revenge and is tied by a rope to a blossoming cherry tree while her husband’s
death is ordered. She frees herself when, after praying for a miracle, she draws the
figures of rats in the fallen petals at her feet and they come to life, chewing through
her bonds. A happy ending ensues. Alan Cummings’s translation is in James R.
Brandon and Samuel L. Leiter, eds., Brilliance and Bravado: Kabuki Plays On Stage,
1700–1770 (Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, forthcoming).

“Kumagai Jinya” (Kumagai’s Battle Camp)

The most famous scene in Ichinotani Futaba Gunki (Chronicles of the Battle of Ichi-
notani), a five-act history play written originally for Osaka’s puppets in 1751 by
 Kabuki Plot Summaries 165

Namiki S
suke et al. In 1752, the play was adapted for kabuki. In action prior to
the “Kumagai Jinya” scene, Kumagai Naozane, fighting for the Genji clan, defeats
the gentle teenage warrior, Atsumori. As told in the Heike Monogatari (Tales of the
Heike), Kumagai actually killed the boy. In the play, however, Kumagai—bound by
various feudal obligations—saves the boy’s life and, during the “Kumagai Jinya”
scene, substitutes the head of his own son, Kojir
, when the inevitable head in-
spection, overseen by General Yoshitsune, is conducted. Much drama derives from
the presence during the scene of both Atsumori’s mother, Fuji no Kata, who has
come seeking revenge on her son’s presumed killer, and Kojir
’s mother, Sagami.
Atsumori, hidden in a trunk, is secreted away by the stonecutter Midaroku, who
kills the evil Kajiwara when the latter threatens to expose the substitution. Kumagai,
shaken by the experience and enlightened as to life’s evanescence, abandons his
profession as a warrior, shaves his head, and becomes a monk, vowing to pray for
the souls of those who died in battle. Ichinotani Futaba Gunki has been translated
by James R. Brandon in Kabuki: Five Famous Plays (1975; Honolulu: University of
Hawai‘i Press, 1992).

Kurozuka (Black Mound)

A specialty of the Ichikawa Ennosuke line, this 1939 dance play is based on a n

play known as either Kurozuka or Adachigahara. A group of priests stop at a deso-
late house for the night. Though told by the old woman of the house not to peek
into its inner room, they do so only to discover that she is a cannibal demoness. The
priests do battle with her and eventually overcome her with their spiritual power.
She begs them for salvation.

Meiboku Sendai Hagi (The Precious Incense and Autumn Flowers of Sendai)
A 1777 Edo history play by Nagawa Kamesuke. It concerns a disputed succession
in the Date clan of Sendai. Its most famous scene involves a mother, Masaoka,
nursemaid to a prince, Tsuruchiyo, who fears that the boy may be poisoned. When
her own boy, Senmatsu, the same age as Tsuruchiyo, eats food set forth for the
prince, he is slain before Masaoka’s eyes by the evil Lady Yashio, who wants to pre-
vent anyone witnessing the boy’s death from poison. Masaoka, however, must
remain stoic, only allowing her emotions to gush forth when she is alone with the
corpse. Nevertheless, her behavior prompts another high-ranking lady, thinking
her a worthy ally, to allow her to join a traitorous conspiracy of usurpers. The play
is translated by Matthew Johnson in James R. Brandon and Samuel L. Leiter, eds.,
Villainy and Vengeance: Kabuki Plays On Stage, 1770–1800 (Honolulu: University of
Hawai‘i Press, forthcoming).

Momijigari (The Maple Viewing)

A dance-drama by Kawatake Mokuami that premiered in 1887. Based on a n
play,
it is not, however, performed in kabuki’s version of n
style. It uses a more conven-
tional setting in which a large maple tree occupies center stage. In what is a very
unusual arrangement, musicians from three different musical styles—nagauta, kiyo-
166 Appendix B

moto, and tokiwazu—are present on stage simultaneously to accompany the story,

which is set during an autumn leaf-viewing excursion on Mount Togakushi. The
handsome warrior Taira Koremochi and his men, out hunting, encounter a beau-
tiful princess and her entourage in the midst of a banquet. Although invited to join
in, Koremochi, charged with the mission of tracking down a demon that has been
terrorizing the mountain, politely refuses until dissuaded by the lovely lady. Dur-
ing a dance performed by the lady, Koremochi, who has been drinking, dozes off.
The god of the mountain appears to Koremochi in his dream and warns him that
the lady is really the demon. Armed with a magic sword given him by the deity,
Koremochi pursues her, and she soon reappears in her true guise, with horrid fea-
tures and long, shaggy hair. They engage in a dramatic dance-combat that ends in
a tableau.

“Moritsuna Jinya” (“Moritsuna’s Camp”)

The only act still performed from mi Genji Senjin Yakata (The Genji Vanguard at
the mi Mansion), a nine-act history play written in 1769 for Osaka’s puppet
theatre by Chikamatsu Hanji et al. The first kabuki staging came in 1770. Another
example of a substitution play, it was inspired by the 1615 battle of Osaka Castle,
although placed in the Kamakura period (1185–1333), and tells of the rivalry be-
tween sibling generals, Takatsuna and Moritsuna, fighting each other as enemies.
The calculating Takatsuna, knowing his brother’s mind, uses psychological ploys to
gain an advantage over the softer-hearted Moritsuna. The action is set at Moritsuna’s
camp, where Takatsuna’s young son, Koshir
, is the captive of Moritsuna’s own son,
Kosabur
. The prisoner is in the care of his grandmother, Hayase. Wada Hy
ei, an
envoy from Takatsuna comes to beg the boy’s release, raising Moritsuna’s suspi-
cions, since the boy has no military import. Moritsuna refuses, but the envoy has
succeeded in creating uncertainty in Moritsuna’s mind about Takatsuna’s mental
state, which, Moritsuna thinks, might lead his brother to betray his cause in order
to save the boy. Prevented by the order of Tokimasa, his superior, from killing the
boy, Moritsuna has the reluctant grandmother, Mimy
, convince Koshir
to kill him-
self, thus preventing Takatsuna from becoming a traitor on his child’s behalf. News
of an attack in which Takatsuna has ostensibly been killed arrives, and Moritsuna
must authenticate his brother’s head. At the moment of inspection, Koshir
rushes
forth and kills himself, claiming he waited to see his father’s face before doing the
deed. The inspection commences and Moritsuna sees that the head is a substitution,
but he accepts it as authentic out of admiration for Koshir
’s sacrifice. Aware that
Takatsuna has tricked him into behaving treasonously, he plans to kill himself, but
he is prevented from doing so by Wada, Takatsuna’s man, who kills a spy of Toki-
masa’s, and Moritsuna resolves to die honorably in battle instead. A translation by
Stanleigh H. Jones, Jr., is in “ ‘Moritsuna’s Camp’: An Eighteenth-Century Play from
Japan’s Puppet Theatre,” Asian Theatre Journal 7 (Spring 1990).

   

 (The Maiden at the D
j
Temple)

One of the most frequently performed dances for a female role specialist. With text
by Fujimoto Tobun, the dance was first staged in 1753. A beautiful young woman
 Kabuki Plot Summaries 167

inveigles her way into a temple compound at the time of a ceremony to consecrate
a new bell. She secretly burns with anger because she believes that one of the monks
betrayed his vow to marry her. There are a number of versions, but the chief fea-
ture is the frequently varying atmosphere, which allows the dancer to change from
one gorgeous kimono to another (often right in front of the audience through
quick-change methods), until the maiden turns into a frightening demon who
melts the new bell.

Naozamurai
Named for its male lead, Naozamurai is the popular name for a frequently per-
formed section of the long play Kumo ni Mag
Ueno no Hatsuhana (The First Flowers
of Ueno), by Kawatake Mokuami, which opened in Tokyo in 1881. This is essentially
two plays, the first half generally called Kochiyama. In the Naozamurai half, Naojir
,
known as Naozamurai, is a charming rogue in trouble with the police. One snowy
night, on which he plans to flee Edo, he makes his way to bid farewell to his cour-
tesan girlfriend, Michitose. He stops midway to enjoy a bowl of noodles at a shabby
noodle shop and overhears talk of how Michitose pines for him. Proceeding to
Michitose, who is staying at a concubine’s hostel, he shares with her a melancholy
scene of parting that is tinged with erotic pathos and in which the movement is
very close to dance. At the end, the police burst in, but the nimble Naozamurai
makes good his escape. The play is translated in Samuel L. Leiter, The Art of Kabuki:
Five Famous Plays (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979; rev. ed., Mineola,
N.Y.: Dover, 2000).

  
(Rat Punk)

The popular title of Nezumi Komon Haru no Shingata (The Rat and the Fine Pat-
terned New Spring Fashion). Kawatake Mokuami’s 1857 Edo domestic drama,
famed for its depiction of Edo’s seamier side, is about the colorful but good-hearted
bandit known as Nezumi Koz
. He prevents the lovers’ suicide of Shinsuke and the
geisha Omoto, who are the victims of a swindle that robbed them of 100 ry
, and
steals that amount from a daimyo’s mansion on their behalf. The guard, Yosobei,
guilty of having failed to stop him, asks Koz
to kill him, but his story leads Koz
to
realize that this is his own long-lost father, although he does not reveal his insight.
Yosobei soon receives harsh punishment for his dereliction. Koz
, on a boat, wakes
from a dream in which he is married to his prostitute girlfriend, Matsuyama, and is
caught when they attempt to escape. Koz
’s brother, Yonosuke, from whom he has
long been separated, is caught sneaking into a pawnshop, where he wanted to steal
the money for which his father, Yosobei, was responsible, but is treated kindly by
the shop’s proprietress, who happens to be the mother of Koz
’s girlfriend. The
stolen money is traced to Omoto and Shinsuke, although they are innocent of the
crime. Koz
, living in the guise of a fortune-teller, learns of what the others have en-
dured and decides to surrender to the law. But his foster mother, the same party
who swindled Shinsuke and Omoto, then tries to kill him only to be killed instead,
which actually was her desire because of her guilt at having cheated the others.
Koz
eventually gives himself up, but he escapes after being treated mercilessly.
168 Appendix B

“Ninokuchi Mura” (“Ninokuchi Village”)

The final scene of Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s Meido no Hikyaku (The Courier for
Hell), written for the Osaka puppet theatre in 1711 and allegedly based on a true
story. Its first kabuki version was in 1757, but there have been a number of subse-
quent ones. The title Umegawa Chbei, derived from the names of its central char-
acters, is often given to productions of the play. All that remains are two scenes,
“Fuingiri” (“Breaking the Seal”) and “Ninokuchi Mura.” In “Fuingiri,” the money
courier, Chbei, goaded beyond endurance by a rival about his ability to ransom
his courtesan mistress, Umegawa, accidentally breaks the seals on official money
he is carrying and uses the cash to show his supposed wealth. He ransoms the cour-
tesan and rushes off with her, determined to commit double suicide because of his
capital offense. They flee to Ninokuchi Village, his hometown, where Umegawa
visits Chbei’s mother’s grave. Unable to meet his father because he does not wish
his flight obstructed, Chbei watches as Umegawa aids the old man when his sandal
thong breaks and he slips on the ice. Aware of who she must be, the father warns
her of the manhunt in the area and offers financial aid. Son and father grasp hands,
the latter’s eyes shielded from the sight by Umegawa, and the couple escapes al-
though soon apprehended by the police. Translations include Asataro Miyamori,
Masterpieces of Chikamatsu, The Japanese Shakespeare (London: Kegan Paul, Trench,
Trubner, 1926); Donald Keene, Major Plays of Chikamatsu (New York: Columbia Uni-
versity Press, 1961); and James R. Brandon, in James R. Brandon and Samuel L.
Leiter, eds., Villainy and Vengeance: Kabuki Plays On Stage, 1770–1800 (Honolulu: Uni-
versity of Hawai‘i Press, forthcoming).

Omatsuri Sashichi (Festival Sashichi)

The popular name for Edo Sodachi Omatsuri Sashichi (Bred in Edo, Festival Sashichi),
an 1898 Tokyo domestic play by Kawatake Shinshichi III. One of many plays treat-
ing the love affair of Koito and Sashichi, it is closely based on an 1810 play by
Tsuruya Nanboku IV and tells of how the geisha Koito, mistress of the distaste-
ful samurai Kurada Banpei, falls in love with the fireman, Sashichi, an enemy of
Kurada’s, and runs off to live with him. Deceived into believing that feudal enmity
prevents her ever from marrying Sashichi, she is forced to end their relationship,
which incites him to murder her, only to learn of his error, thus driving him to kill
Kurada.

Ranpei Monogurui (“Ranpei’s Madness”)

The only act still performed from Yamatogana Ariwara Keizu (Japan’s Syllabary and
Ariwara’s Genealogy), a 1752 Osaka puppet play by Asada Itch
et al. Kabuki first
saw it in 1753. The exiled Ariwara no Yukihira is permitted to return to Kyoto, but
he longs for his island diving girl sweetheart, Matsukaze. While Matsukaze and her
brother are being summoned, at the request of Yukihira’s wife, his footman Ranpei,
hoping to lift his master’s spirits, gets the teahouse waitress Oriku to pass herself
off as the diving girl, whom she closely resembles. Oriku’s husband is to pass him-
 Kabuki Plot Summaries 169

self off as Matsukaze’s brother. An altercation involving Ranpei’s son and a traitor
leads to Yukihira drawing his sword, which causes Ranpei—said to be allergic to
sword blades—to faint. He soon revives but is in a state of insanity until the blade
is resheathed. Actually, Ranpei himself is a traitor skilled at swordsmanship who
would kill Yukihira, and his allergy is faked. Oriku and her spouse, Yomosaku, are
captured when they try to kill Ranpei, who discovers that Yomosaku possesses a
certain famous sword and is, in fact, Ranpei’s brother. Ranpei discloses his plot
against Yukihira, who killed his father. Yomosaku, though, turns out to be Yukihira’s
loyal retainer Oe no Otondo, and Oriku’s real name is Akashi. A sword fight be-
tween the men commences, revealing Ranpei’s skills. He soon is engaged in a fight
against many Yukihira samurai, part of the spectacular battle being staged amidst
the audience on the hanamichi. Ranpei loses heart at fighting his own son, though,
and gives up to him, handing him Yukihira’s stolen genealogy and making it seem
as if the feat of stealing it was the son’s. This prompts Yukihira to raise Shigez
to
samurai status, and the grateful Ranpei becomes a monk.

    

(Fishmonger S
gor
)

The popular name of Shin Sarayashiki Tsuki no Amagasa (The New Mansion of Plates
and the Rain Hat of the Moon), Kawatake Mokuami’s 1883 domestic play adapta-
tion of a 1741 puppet play, whose story is also told in Banch
Sarayashiki (see plot
summary). Fishmonger S
gor
’s sister Otsuta has been chosen as the concubine of
Kazuenosuke, a high-ranking samurai. When Otsuta refuses the advances of Kazue-
nosuke’s wicked retainer, Tenz
, who wants to overthrow his master, the retainer
seeks to get the girl dismissed by making it look as though she is responsible for
breaking an heirloom plate and having a romance with another retainer’s son. The
jealous Kazuenosuke thereupon kills the girl and has her thrown down a well, but
her spirit returns to haunt his mansion. In the most famous scene, S
gor
learns
of his sister’s fate, which is a terrible blow to the family not only because of their
sorrow at her death but because they had been so honored by her selection as the
nobleman’s mistress. S
gor
, ferocious when drunk, has refrained from alcohol,
but now he begins to down large quantities of sake, allowing no one to stop him.
Intoxicated, he heads for Kazuenosuke’s mansion to seek revenge, bursts into the
mansion, and fights with those who would stop him before he is restrained and
bound. Finally, he calms down and apologizes, but Kazuenosuke learns of Tenz
’s
role in the tragedy and punishes him, while giving S
gor
’s family condolence
money for their anguish. A translation by Faith Bach is in James R. Brandon and
Samuel L. Leiter, eds., Restoration and Reform: Kabuki Plays On Stage, 1868–1900 (Hono-
lulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, forthcoming).

Sakura Giminden (Cherry Blossoms of Righteousness)

The popular title for Higashiyama Sakura no S
shi (The Tale of the Martyr of Sakura),
Segawa Jok
III’s 1851 Edo domestic drama. It is considered the prime example of
a potentially antiestablishment Tokugawa-period kabuki play. Based on an Edo
period incident but set in the fifteenth century, it tells of S
go, who defies the
170 Appendix B

laws against political protest by presenting a petition to the shogun regarding the
heavy taxation of the peasants in his village and—with his family—is crucified for his
actions. Crushing taxes levied by Lord Hotta are oppressing the peasants of Sakura
in Shim
sa, but whoever complains is jailed. Similar complaints fall on deaf ears at
the shogun’s council in Edo. S
g
, the village headman, knowing the risks, decides
to make a direct appeal to the shogun. He returns from Edo with the help of a
brave ferryman, who breaks the chains on the ferry placed there by the authori-
ties. At home, S
g
sadly bids his family farewell, hoping to protect them from
blame by divorcing his wife, but she refuses to accept it. He leaves again for Edo
and manages to submit a petition, despite being arrested. The entire family is cruci-
fied for S
g
’s deed, but they return as ghosts to plague the Hotta family. Anne
Phillips has translated the play in James R. Brandon and Samuel L. Leiter, eds., Dark-
ness and Desire: Kabuki Plays On Stage, 1800–1868 (Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i
Press, forthcoming).

  

A celebratory dance with auspicious overtones. It has historical connections to the
ritual Okina dance of the n
theatre. Sanbas
features the title character and was
done early in the morning as the first piece on all Tokugawa-period programs.
There are many versions, one of which, Shitadashi Sanbas
(Sanbas
with His Tongue
Stuck Out), is translated by Mark Oshima in James R. Brandon and Samuel L.
Leiter, eds., Darkness and Desire: Kabuki Plays On Stage, 1700–1770 (Honolulu: Uni-
versity of Hawai‘i Press, forthcoming).

Sanmon Gosan no Kiri (The Temple Gate and the Paulownia Crest)
Written by Namiki Gohei I, it was first produced in 1778, in Osaka. It is a fifteen-
minute piece, all that remains from a long drama, and is famous for its spectacle.
The notorious bandit Ishikawa Goemon’s presence in the vicinity of Nanzen Temple
is reported by a group of priests. The money he is accumulating from his thefts is
presumably to be used for treacherous political purposes. Soon, the mighty Goemon
appears on the balcony of the temple, smoking a huge pipe and enjoying the vista
of blossoming cherries. A hawk flies in, bringing him a sleeve whose blood-written
message reveals that he must be the son of China’s S
Sekei and that his mission is
to slay the great leader Hisayoshi (meant to be history’s Toyotomi Hideyoshi). A
gentle pilgrim appears at the foot of the temple, which rises higher and higher on a
trap, and recognizing the pilgrim as Hisayoshi, Goemon flings a dagger at him, but
Hisayoshi catches it on a wooden dipper. The pair glare at one another and the cur-
tain closes. A translation by Alan Cummings is in James R. Brandon and Samuel L.
Leiter, eds., Villainy and Vengeance: Kabuki Plays On Stage, 1770–1800 (Honolulu: Uni-
versity of Hawai‘i Press, forthcoming).

Sannin Kichisa (The Three Kichisas)

A domestic drama written in Edo by Kawatake Mokuami in 1860, its full title is
Sannin Kichisa Kuruwa no Hatsugai (The Three Kichisas, or the New Year’s First Visit
 Kabuki Plot Summaries 171

to the Pleasure Quarters). It is a popular example of the bandit play (shiranami mono)
category and concerns three honorable thieves named Kichisa. The prostitute Otose,
having found a purse with 100 ry
left behind by her lover, Jzabur
, attempts to
meet him on the bank of the Sumida River, but she is assaulted, robbed, and dumped
in the river by a beautiful woman. The latter is actually 
Kichisa, a cross-dressing
thief whose getup resembles that of the fabled greengrocer Oshichi. A witness, Ob

Kichisa, tries to get the cash from 
 whose masculine fighting skills surprise
him. The duel is settled by the arrival of ex-priest Osh
Kichisa, and the three men,
believing fate has brought them together, become blood brothers. Jzabur
is pre-
vented from drowning himself in remorse for his loss by Denkichi, Otose’s father,
who reunites him with Otose, saved from drowning by Yaoya Kybei. The lovers,
however, soon discover that they are twins. Osh
, who is Denkichi’s oldest son,
gives the 100 ry
to his father, but Denkichi and Jzabur
—not knowing it to be
the lost money—reject it as being possibly tainted. When an apprentice steals the
money, Denkichi manages to retrieve it only to be killed and robbed by Ob
, igno-
rant of Denkichi’s identity. Osh
helps Ob
and Ojo hide out at a temple to which
Otose and Jzabur
come with a request that their elder brother avenge Denkichi’s
murder, while they themselves plan to commit suicide for having committed
incest. Osh
convinces them to let him use their heads to deceive the police into
thinking them the heads of 
and Ob
so that the latter can elude the police, who
are closing in. But before long, the police surround the three Kichisas at a fire tower
on a snowy night. After a robust struggle, the three Kichisas decide to kill one an-
other rather than surrender. The drama is translated by Kei Hibino and Alan Cum-
mings in James R. Brandon and Samuel L. Leiter, eds., Restoration and Reform: Kabuki
On Stage, 1868–1900 (Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, forthcoming).

Senbon Zakura (The Thousand Cherry Trees)

An abbreviated title for Yoshitsune Senbon Zakura (Yoshitsune and the Thousand
Cherry Trees), a long, five-act history play masterpiece by Takeda Izumo II, Namiki
S
suke, and Miyoshi Sh
raku, written for Osaka’s puppet theatre in 1747 and pro-
duced by kabuki a year later. Only selected highlights are touched on here. The
play, a fanciful telling of the story of the great twelfth-century general Yoshitsune,
recounts his success at the battle of Yashima, where the Minamoto (Genji) defeated
the Taira (Heike), and the enmity his victory arouses in the heart of his brother, Yori-
tomo, the shogun. Yoshitsune accepts the ex-emperor’s gift of a drum called Hatsune
(First Sound), symbolizing the relationship between the brothers, but Yoshitsune
vows never to beat it (that is, in retaliation for his mistreatment). Soon after, at
Yoshitsune’s Horikawa mansion, he is questioned by Shigeyori, a shogunal envoy,
regarding his plans for a rebellion against Yoritomo, although his enemies have been
planting seeds of doubt about him because of the drum, which Yoshitsune insists
he never beat. Various complications arise regarding the family background of Yoshi-
tsune’s wife, who was raised by a Heike family but is the actual daughter of Shige-
yori himself, and the wife kills herself to resolve the issue. Outside, Yoritomo’s men
attack and Yoshitsune’s powerful right-hand man, Benkei, retaliates mightily. Yoshi-
172 Appendix B

tsune flees his brother’s wrath and Benkei follows, although Yoshitsune—hoping
to resolve things with Yoritomo peacefully—later chastises Benkei for his violent
reaction. On route to sanctuary on a mountain where women are forbidden, Yoshi-
tsune must part from his mistress, Shizuka, to whom he hands the drum as a
memento. Left alone, she is attacked by a comical gang but is rescued by Tadanobu,
Yoshitsune’s retainer, who is really a magical fox, which has manifested itself in
human form in order to be near the drum, made of its parents’ skins. Yoshitsune,
who has witnessed the rescue, rewards the Fox-Tadanobu with armor and an hon-
orary name and also with the care of Shizuka during Yoshitsune’s absence. At the
Tokaiya freight office and hostelry in Daimotsu Bay, the Heike general Tomomori—
thought to have died at Yashima—passes himself off as Ginpei, the shipping agent.
Yoshitsune’s party is staying here, waiting for passage across the bay to Kysh.
Tomomori plans to captain Yoshitsune’s boat and to attack him during a rough sea
crossing. His attempt proves unsuccessful and, on Daimotsu Beach, he leaps into
the sea, tied to an anchor, followed by his wife and child. Meanwhile, the play re-
counts the travails of Wakaba no Naishi and her child Rokudai, wife and child of
the Heike general Koremori, who, with the aid of the retainer Kokingo, are trying to
find Koremori. During their wanderings, Kokingo is slain by Minamoto enemies.
They also have a run-in with Gonta, rascally son of the sushi shop proprietor, Yazae-
mon. The latter finds Kokingo’s corpse and takes his head. This leads to the
sushi shop (“Sushiya”) scene, during which the clerk Yasuke is revealed as Kore-
mori in disguise. He is reunited with his family, Gonta’s evil schemes to reveal
Koremori’s identity are exposed, and he dies after giving a speech of repentance. A
popular travel dance (michiyuki) sequence set on Mount Yoshino during cherry
blossom time follows, with Shizuka and Fox-Tadanobu heading toward where
they hope to find Yoshitsune. Comical villains again appear and are driven off by
Fox-Tadanobu. Various other events transpire, most important of which is the clar-
ification for Yoshitsune of who the Tadanobu helping Shizuka really is, as the real
Tadanobu has shown up, creating confusion. The fox explains his behavior and is
rewarded by Yoshitsune for his loyalty by being given the sacred drum. In most
contemporary stagings, the fox then saves Yoshitsune from attacking monks
and flies off into the theatre balcony. For a translation see Stanleigh H. Jones, Jr.,
Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees (New York: Columbia University Press,
1993).

 
   (Gapp
and His Daughters)

A 1773 puppet drama by Suga Sensuke et al. Only one of the original two acts is
still shown. The first kabuki version was in 1885. It is set at the country cottage of the
ex-samurai Gapp
and his wife. His nineteen-year-old daughter, having married a
daimyo, is now known as Tamate Gozen, and she has two stepsons, the younger of
whom is the heir, Shuntokumaru. His brother, Jiromaru, wants to kill him and be-
come heir himself. Tamate is in love with Shuntokumaru, but envious of his love
for another, has caused him to drink a potion that has disfigured and blinded him,
 Kabuki Plot Summaries 173

leading him to take shelter at Gapp
’s place. Gapp
and his wife are so shamed by
Tamate’s deed that they consider her dead and, at first, refuse to permit her entry
when she arrives outside their door. Her continued brazenness in demanding mar-
riage to Shuntokumaru leads Gapp
to threaten her with death. When the youth
appears, she does not relent in her bold advances and Gapp
finally stabs her,
which prompts her explanation that her actions were all intended to save Shunto-
kumaru from Jiromaru’s treachery and that her maternal obligations to the latter
prevented her from previously revealing his evil machinations. She reveals that
only the living blood of a woman born at a specific time can cure Shuntokumaru,
who then drinks her blood and recovers, while Tamate passes away. A translation
by Faubion Bowers is in The Japanese Theatre (New York: Hermitage House, 1952;
reprint, Tokyo and Rutland, Vt.: Tuttle, 1974).

Shibaraku (Just a Minute!)

A history play produced in its earliest version in 1692 (some sources give slightly
later dates), starring its author, Ichikawa Danjr
I. It typifies the exaggerated Edo
martial style called aragoto and was produced in a new version annually during
much of the Tokugawa period as the eleventh month’s season-opening program.
The action transpires before the Hachiman Tsurugaoka shrine in Kamakura, where
the evil prince Takehira has stolen the seals of office and is seeking to make Kat-
sura no Mae, the mistress of his rival’s son, Yoshitsuna, his own. He is preparing a
public ceremony to announce his treasonous ascent to power, and he makes a
grand entrance accompanied by the carrying on of a precious ledger. The stage fills
up with his bombastic retainers. The brothers Yoshitsuna and Yoshisato defy Take-
hira but are stopped by the latter’s men, and Yoshitsuna and Katsura no Mae are to
be put to the sword. However, the powerful voice of Kamakura no Gongor
Kage-
masa, a gigantic supersamurai, is heard shouting, “Wait a minute,” and he soon
enters, delivers a complex name-announcing speech, puts the villains to route, and
saves the day for the good people, ending the piece with a fantastic exit down the
hanamichi. A translation by Katherine Saltzman-Li appears in James R. Brandon
and Samuel L. Leiter, eds., Brilliance and Bravado: Kabuki Plays On Stage, 1700–1770
(Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, forthcoming).

 
 (Double Suicide on K
shin Festival Eve)

A domestic drama by Chikamatsu Monzaemon, written for Osaka’s puppet theatre
in 1722 and based on a real lovers’ suicide. Hanbei, of samurai stock, is a worthy
young man in the employ of his adoptive parents, Osaka greengrocers Riemon and
Okuma, the latter of whom abuses Hanbei’s pregnant wife, Ochiyo. While Hanbei
is away on personal matters, Okuma sends Ochiyo back to her father, a farmer
named Heiemon. A local farmer expresses an interest in marrying her. Hanbei dis-
covers what has happened, and, visiting the father’s home, is blamed by Ochiyo’s
sister for being the responsible party. Since to defend himself would be to insult his
adoptive mother, toward whom he feels obligated, he tries to kill himself, although
174 Appendix B

the sisters stop him. He and Ochiyo reconcile and return to Osaka, but Ochiyo takes
residence at another place until Hanbei can straighten out matters with Okuma.
But Okuma remains vindictive and Hanbei and Ochiyo decide to take their lives, al-
though he divorces her first so that his adoptive mother will not be blamed for the
tragedy.

Shinkei Kasane ga Fuchi (The Murder of Kasane at the Abyss)

A drama written by Takeshiba Kinsaku II and premiered in 1898 in Tokyo. The
current version is based on Takeshiba’s 1922 revision. It is a ghost story with psy-
chological overtones. A horrid-looking music teacher, Toyoshiga, is in love with
one of her students, Shinkichi, but she becomes so jealous when she realizes he
loves another, Ohisa, that she torments him. Then she is consumed by hatred and
dies. Later, her spirit returns and causes Ohisa’s horrible death.

Shin Usuyuki Monogatari (New Story of Usuyuki)

A 1741 history play written for the Osaka puppet theatre by Matsuda Bunkod
et
al. and produced in kabuki in the same year as its puppet premiere. Princess Usu-
yuki, while on a cherry-blossom viewing excursion to Kiyomizu Temple, falls in
love with the handsome Saemon, there to dedicate a Kuniyuki sword to the temple.
A meeting between the two is arranged by a lady-in-waiting. Dankur
, a swordsmith
jealous of Kuniyuki, and in service to Usuyuki’s other admirer, Daizen, inscribes a
curse against the shogunate on Saemon’s sword, making Saemon seem the guilty
party. When Kuniyuki offers to show the blade to Dankur
, the villain, fearful of
exposing the curse, engages in a sword fight with Kuniyuki, who is killed, however,
by a dagger thrown by Daizen. Daizen then attempts to dispose of Dankur
, a poten-
tial witness against him, but decides instead to present him with a bag of gold. The
young lovers meet and Usuyuki’s mother, Matsugae, finding them together, sup-
ports their alliance. When the curse on the sword is discovered, Saemon protests
his innocence. Kuniyuki can clear up the matter, but no one can find him. Finally,
his corpse is located and the shogun’s envoy realizes that the killer must be Daizen,
but he holds his tongue. Each of the lovers’ fathers takes the other’s child into cus-
tody for further questioning. Saemon’s father lets Usuyuki escape, after which a
sword arrives from Usuyuki’s father, Iganokami, with a message that it has beheaded
Saemon and should do the same to Usuyuki. But examination of the sword proves
that Iganokami has let Saemon escape and has committed seppuku in recompense.
The fathers meet and each reveals that he has not only let his charge flee but that
he is dying from disembowelment. Joined by Saemon’s mother, they laugh through
their pain. In subsequent action, Kuniyuki’s dispossessed son, Kunitoshi, learns
secrets of tempering a blade from Gor
bei, Dankur
’s father, but when Dankur

tries to learn them, he is wounded by Gor
bei, who knows that his son placed the
curse on the Kuniyuki sword and makes Kunitoshi his successor. Dankur
promises
to reform, abandons Daizen’s service, and fights nobly with one arm when attacked
by Daizen’s men.
 Kabuki Plot Summaries 175

Shunkan (name of a character)

The only remaining portion of Heike Ny
go ga Shima (The Heike and the Island of
Women), written by Chikamatsu Monzaemon. The play was originally produced
in Osaka in 1719 as a puppet play; a year later, it was adapted by kabuki. Shunkan,
guilty of political crimes, lives in exile on the shore of a desolate island, Kikaiga-
shima, where he has befriended two other exiles, Naritsune and Yasuyori. They
everyday await the arrival of a ship bearing pardons. Naritsune falls in love with
the diving girl, Chidori, and the friends celebrate the couple’s nuptials. A pardon
boat finally arrives with pardons for Naritsune and Yasuyori, but not for the heart-
broken Shunkan, who is treated coldly by the envoy, Sen
. However, another envoy
does bear a pardon for Shunkan, who may return part of the way. When Chidori is
rebuffed by Sen
, and Shunkan cannot convince the latter to let her board, Shunkan
fights with and kills the nasty envoy so that the girl may return in his place. He
resigns himself to remaining forever on the island and watches in grief as the boat
sails off into the distance. A translation is in Samuel L. Leiter, The Art of Kabuki: Five
Famous Plays (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979; rev. ed., Mineola, N.Y.:
Dover 2000).

“Sodehagi Saimon” (“Sodehagi’s Ballad”)

From the history drama sh Adachigahara (Adachi Field in sh), written in 1762
for the Osaka puppet theatre by Chikamatsu Hanji et al. Only two acts remain, one
being “Sodehagi Saimon.” Sodehagi was disinherited from her samurai family at
age sixteen because of an illicit love affair. She becomes a blind, wandering beggar
searching for her lost lover, Kurosawa Sach, her out-of-wedlock little girl by her
side. She comes to the home of her father, Kenj
Naotaka, and stands outside,
playing the shamisen and singing a prayerful song asking for forgiveness, but he
refuses to listen. The situation is complicated by her father having been ordered to
commit suicide and by the arrival of the imperial messenger, Sodehagi’s long-lost
love. The father, Naotaka, commits seppuku and Sodehagi kills herself to wipe away
her shame.

   (The Love Suicides at Sonezaki)

Considered to be the first true domestic drama, this work was written by Chika-
matsu Monzaemon for Osaka’s puppets in 1703 and received its kabuki debut in
1719. It was based on a real lovers’ suicide. Ohatsu, a courtesan, is having a love
affair with Tokubei, an Osaka merchant whose uncle has arranged a marriage for
him to a wealthy relative. It is difficult to refuse because his aunt has already spent
the heavy dowry, so the money would have to be returned before Tokubei could
be released from the bond. Having raised the money, though, Tokubei loans it to a
friend, Kuheiji, who, on being asked for repayment, claims he never received the
loan and says the receipt is a fake. Despairing, Tokubei secretly visits Ohatsu, who
hides him beneath her quilt as he is forced to listen to Kuheiji discuss redeeming
176 Appendix B

Ohatsu. They secretly signal to each other their resolve to kill themselves, which,
later that night they sneak off to accomplish. There is a translation in Donald Keene,
Major Plays of Chikamatsu (New York: Columbia University Press, 1961).

Sugawara (name of a character)

Short for Sugawara Denju Tenarai Kagami (Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy),
this masterpiece was written for Osaka’s puppet theatre by Takeda Izumo I, Miyo-
shi Sh
raku, and Namiki Senry (later Namiki S
suke). This very long, epic-scaled
history drama is set in the world of Sugawara Michizane, an imperial minister later
deified as the god of calligraphy. Another minister, Shihei, has his eyes on the throne
and distrusts Sugawara. The ailing emperor’s younger brother, Tokiyo, is discovered
by Shihei’s retainer in a forbidden rendezvous with Sugawara’s daughter, Kariya,
arranged by his retainer, Sakuramaru, one of triplets named for the cherry (sakura),
the pine (matsu), and the plum (ume). Sakuramaru, who had allowed himself to be
briefly distracted, blames himself for the discovery and for the couple’s forced elope-
ment. Sugawara names as his disciple Takebe Genz
, although Sugawara cannot
fully pardon Genz
for the infraction of having a love affair with Tonami, a palace
lady, whom Genz
married. Another triplet, Ume
maru, reports that Sugawara
has been arrested and exiled to Kysh for planning to usurp the throne on behalf
of Tokiyo. Genz
takes custody of Kan Shsai, Sugawara’s young son. Tokiyo and
Kariya are caught and separated. Kariya attempts to see Sugawara and gain his for-
giveness before he departs for exile, which she is unable to do, being greeted instead
by a wooden statue that seems to have taken his place. Conspirators in Shihei’s
employ, hoping to kill Sugawara, manage to spirit him away in a palanquin before
his official escort arrives. However, they discover that they have taken the statue,
not the man, and are punished for their crime. He appears as if by magic, and
Kariya is able to bid him farewell. In the spectacular “Kuruma Biki” (Pulling the Car-
riage Apart) scene, the triplets all appear before the Yoshida Shrine, and Matsu
-
maru is set in conflict with his brothers because he serves the wicked Shihei, despite
knowing him for a villain. In the “Ga no Iwai” (Felicitations) scene, set at the triplets’
father’s house, where all are gathered to celebrate the old man’s seventieth birth-
day, Ume
and Matsu
wrestle, Matsu
is rebuked by his father for serving Shihei,
and Sakura commits suicide for his errors. In Kysh, Sugawara’s dream that
his favorite plum tree has been transplanted there comes true. He then decapitates
an attacking Shihei follower with a tree branch and ascends to heaven to impede
Shihei’s grasp for power. The renowned “Terakoya” (The Village School) scene
shows the child of Matsu
and Chiyo being placed in Genz
’s village calligraphy
school, where they hope that Genz
will use his head as a substitute for that of
Kan Shsai when Genz
is ordered by Shihei to kill Sugawara’s son. Genz
follows
through and the head inspector turns out to be Matsu
himself, who accepts his
own son’s head for that of Kan Shsai, showing that he is secretly loyal to Suga-
wara. Finally, Sugawara’s death brings on a series of catastrophes until it is realized
that the evil Shihei must be expunged. Sugawara’s house is restored and he is dei-
fied. For a complete translation see Stanleigh H. Jones, Jr., Sugawara and the Secrets
 Kabuki Plot Summaries 177

of Calligraphy (New York: Columbia University Press, 1985). “Kuruma Biki” and
“Terakoya” are translated by Samuel L. Leiter in The Art of Kabuki: Five Famous Plays
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979; rev. ed., Mineola, N.Y.: Dover,
2000).

Sukeroku (name of a character)

The short title for Sukeroku Yukari no Edo Zakura (Sukeroku: Flower of Edo), which
has undergone many changes from Tsuuchi Jihei II’s version of 1713. This colorful
domestic drama is set in the Yoshiwara pleasure quarters, where the dashing Suke-
roku is the lover of the splendid and defiant courtesan Agemaki, whose services
are sought by the evil old samurai Iky, hateful to Agemaki. Sukeroku, in reality
Soga Gor
, is seeking the possessor of his stolen sword, Tomokirimaru. Meanwhile,
his mother, Mank
, comes to the quarters to prod him into pursuing his vendetta
against his father’s enemy and to give up his prodigal ways. Also playing a part is
Sukeroku’s effeminate brother, Shinbei (Soga Jr
), disguised as a wineseller; he is
enlisted in Sukeroku’s quest. In a sequence of actions, Sukeroku and Shinbei force
one Yoshiwara denizen after another to humiliate themselves before them, hoping
they will draw their swords and reveal the missing heirloom. Finally, Iky, trying
to provoke Sukeroku, uses his naked sword to make a point, and Sukeroku notices
that it is Tomokirimaru. That night, Sukeroku demands the sword and is refused,
leading to a big fight during which he is wounded. He escapes the clutches of his
pursuers and vows to meet Agemaki at the river. The drama is translated in James
R. Brandon, Kabuki: Five Classic Plays (Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 1975),
and Faubion Bowers, The Japanese Theatre (New York: Hermitage House, 1952;
reprint, Tokyo and Rutland, Vt.: Tuttle, 1974).

Suzugamori (The Suzugamori Execution Grounds)

One of the few parts still performed from Tsuruya Nanboku IV’s 1823 Edo domestic
play Ukiyozuka Hiyoku no Inazuma (Tandem Birds and Lightning on a Sword Hilt of
the Floating World). The handsome young samurai, Shirai Gonpachi, on his way
to Edo in a palanquin, is brought by his bearers to the bleak Suzugamori execution
grounds outside of Edo, where they and a band of their cohorts seek to rob and
slay him, but he lays about with enormous skill, killing them in great numbers,
their deaths and dismemberment being presented with grotesque comic effects. He
is watched with great interest from another palanquin by Banzui Ch
bei, an Edo
“street knight” (otokodate) boss, who offers him friendship when they arrive at the
city. Ronald Cavaye has translated the play in James R. Brandon and Samuel L.
Leiter, eds., Darkness and Desire: Kabuki Plays On Stage, 1800–1868 (Honolulu: Uni-
versity of Hawai‘i Press, forthcoming).

Takatoki (name of a character)

The title for the only still performed part of H
j
Kudai Meika no Isaoshi (Exploits of
the Ninth H
j
Shogun’s Illustrious Family), an 1884 history play by Kawatake
Mokuami. The shogun, H
j
Takatoki, is a self-indulgent eccentric whose behav-
178 Appendix B

ioral oddities include the excessive indulgence he shows his dog. When the nasty
dog bites an old lady, her son, Sabur
, kills it and is arrested for the crime. News
of the dog’s death infuriates the shogun, who learns of it while carousing with his
mistress, Kinugasa, and he orders Sabur
’s death. He refuses to listen to those who
caution moderation in a wise ruler, but he finally relents because of a monk’s argu-
ment against taking life on this particular day. Suddenly, the candles are blown out
and a band of beak-faced tengu demons enters, with Takatoki, who is addicted to a
kind of folk dance called dengaku, believing them to be dengaku dancers who have
come to give him a lesson. As they dance, the tengu push him to his limits, vanish-
ing only when he drops from exhaustion. On waking, he realizes that he has been
the victim of demon pranksters. A translation by Faith Bach is in Asian Theatre Journal
15 (Fall 1998).


 
 !   (A Shank’s Mare Tour of the T
kaid
)

A 1928 comedy that is one of many stage versions of Jippensha Ikku’s picaresque
novel—published in installments from 1802–1822—of the same name. It depicts in
a series of comic episodes the travels along the T
kaid
Highway, from Edo to
Osaka and Kyoto, of the comic townsmen, Yaji and Kita. It is often called simply
Hizakurige or Yaji Kita.

Tsuchigumo (The Earth Spider)

An 1881 dance drama with text by Kawakami Mokuami. Based on a n
play of the
same name, it is peformed in the style that uses a setting and costumes reflective of
n
theatre practices. Lord Raiko is seriously ill, his sickness apparently being caused
by something supernatural. After a dance by Lady Koch
, performed to lift his
spirits, he falls asleep, only to begin trembling at the appearance of a strange priest
named Chich, who arrives to pray for him. When Raiko’s sword bearer challenges
the priest, the latter reveals his true identity as a monstrous spider, and tries to
conquer Raiko by throwing his web over him. A battle ensues and the priest,
wounded, retires, pursued by Raiko’s men. The spider is tracked to his lair where,
now in his true form, he battles Raiko’s men, tossing weblike strands at them, but
is finally killed by Raiko’s retainer, Yasumasa. Faubion Bowers’s translation is in his
The Japanese Theatre (New York: Hermitage House, 1952; reprint, Tokyo and Rut-
land, Vt.: Tuttle, 1974).

Yaguchi no Watashi (Yaguchi Ferry)

A history play more formally known as Shinrei Yaguchi no Watashi (Miracle at Yaguchi
Ferry), it was written for Edo’s puppet theatre in 1770 and taken into kabuki in
1794. The play is set in the Middle Ages against the backdrop of Ashikaga Takauji’s
attempt to usurp the imperial throne on behalf of a new emperor. The most fre-
quently seen part of the play shows the defeated emperor’s retainer, Yoshimine,
responsible for allowing two heirloom arrows to be stolen, arriving with his mis-
tress, Utena, at the home in Yaguchi of the ferryman, Tonbei, who is in Takauji’s
service and who hopes to earn bounties for capturing imperial supporters. To signal
 Kabuki Plot Summaries 179

such a capture, he will fire off a rocket and beat a large drum. Yoshimine, seeking a
boat, meets Ofune, Tonbei’s daughter, who falls in love with him, although dismayed
about Utena. Needing Ofune’s help, he pretends Utena is his sister, although Ofune
soon realizes whose side he is on. When Tonbei tries to kill Yoshimine by thrusting
a sword up through the floor, it is Ofune he wounds, as she has let Yoshimine
escape and put herself in his place. Tonbei fires the signal and sets out to capture
Yoshimine, but the wounded girl manages to beat the drum so that the siege will
be raised on the assumption that Yoshimine has been killed or captured. Tonbei is
killed by an arrow in the throat. The play is translated by Stanleigh H. Jones, Jr., in
“Miracle at Yaguchi Ferry: A Japanese Puppet Play and its Metamorphosis to Kabuki,”
Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 38, no. 1 (1978).

Yasuna (name of a character)

With text by Chikuda Kinji, Yasuna is a lyrical springtime dance first produced in
Edo in 1818. Onto a stage laden with cherry and rape blossoms, representing the
countryside, wanders the forlorn lover, Abe noYasuna, a gentle and beautiful young
man whose madness is signified by the purple band around his head and his loos-
ened hair, hanging to his shoulders. Draped over his shoulders is his mistress’s
kimono. He is suffering the loss by suicide of his mistress, who died because of a
wicked stepmother’s cruelty. He thinks he sees her, but realizes he does not and
breaks down in tears.

Yoshitsune Senbon Zakura

See Senbon Zakura.
Notes

Translator’s Introduction
1. Faubion Bowers, Japanese Theatre.
2. Earle Ernst, The Kabuki Theatre.
3. Kyoko Hirano, Mr. Smith Goes to Tokyo: Japanese Cinema under the American Occu-
pation, 1945–1952. Hirano’s bibliography, while primarily devoted to film, will
be of great assistance to those seeking further information on this period.
4. The episode is in the Japanese version of this book but has been deleted here.

Chapter 1 Faubion Bowers and Japan, 1940–1945

1. The present Kabuki-za retains this feature, although one does not stand but
sits in this section. Thus, it is usually called tachimiseki (standing-to-see seat-
ing). See the discussion of the makumi system later in this chapter.
2. The Takarazuka
 is a theatre devoted to shows by the all-female revue
company now known as the Takarazuka Revue.
3.
 is the style of chanting first used in the puppet theatre and later bor-
rowed by kabuki, mainly for plays adapted from the puppets. It is named for
the chanter Takemoto
 (1651–1714), who founded it.
4. The Imperial Rule Assistance Association was a fascist organization “aimed at
totalitarian organization of national politics, economy, and culture.” Joseph
M. Goedertier, A Dictionary of Japanese History, p. 178. The organization was dis-
solved in 1945.
5. Santha Rama Rau, East of Home (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1950), p. 81.
6. Microfiche transcript of an interview with Bowers conducted by Beate Gordon,
December 2, 1960. Columbia University Oral History Project (CUOH), p. 9.
7. See Donald Keene, On Familiar Terms, pp. 14–20. It is interesting to note that
while the American armed forces, realizing how much catching up they had
to do and how crucial it would be to understand their enemy, had the fore-
thought to institute intensive language training in preparation for the post-
war Occupation, the Japanese did everything they could to diminish the use
of English, even banning foreign “loan words,” such as baseball, in favor of
their Japanese equivalents. English language and literature, of course, were

181
182 Notes to Pages 9–22

far more widely known in Japan than were the Japanese equivalents among
Americans. See Kyoko Hirano, Mr. Smith Goes to Tokyo: Japanese Cinema under
the American Occupation, 1945–1952, pp. 24–25.
8. CUOH, p. 13.
9. Ibid., p. 12.

Chapter 2 Wartime Kabuki: Censorship on the Home Front

1. Shinpa, meaning “new school,” is a dramatic genre that arose in the late nine-
teenth century and is a kind of bridge between kabuki and “modern drama,”
or shingeki.
2. Taiheiki (Chronicle of the Great Peace) is an anonymous epic describing his-
torical events of the fourteenth century. Many plays draw their inspiration
from this story. See Helen Craig McCullough, trans., The Taiheiki: A Chronicle
of Medieval Japan.
3. Because of governmental proscriptions on the use of real people’s—especially
samurai’s—names on stage, plays often were set in the pre-Tokugawa period.
Even then, however, the names were often thinly disguised, so that Oda Nobu-
naga became Oda Harunaga,   Kuranosuke became boshi Yuranosuke,
and so on.
4.     Nenshi (Seventy-Year History of   ), p. 157.
5. Nakamura Utaemon VI and Yamakawa Shizuo, Utaemon   (Sixty Years
of Utaemon), pp. 84–85. Utaemon was gravely ill in the hospital when this
book was written and could not be interviewed.
6. Kabuki actors usually take several names during their careers, each one gener-
ally being a recognition of the level their artistry has attained. Most commonly,
a mature actor of talent ultimately inherits his father’s name, but many ex-
ceptions exist.   IX’s younger brother eventually became Nakamura
Kichiemon II, for example, in honor of his late grandfather, and it is unlikely
he will ever be called  , even if his brother predeceases him. Through-
out this book, actors’ names are usually given as they were at the times de-
scribed, with a parenthetical note providing the later name by which they
came to be best known.
7. “Haikan no Ji” (Cessation of Publication Notice), Engei
 37, no. 10 (Octo-
ber 1943), p. 1.
8. Terasawa Takanobu, “Kenetsu Kakari no Tachiba kara” (From the Censorship
Board), Engei
 37, no. 10 (1943), p. 5.
9. tani , “Senryoku   to Engeki    no Michi” (Using the
Theatre to Strengthen the War Effort), Engekikai 1 (November 1943), p. 2.
10. Terasawa, “Kenetsu,” p. 5.
 Notes to Pages 22–37 183

11. Ikenami    no   ( Spring and Autumn),

p. 232.
12. “Engeki Kessen  Sochi ni Tsuite” (About Decisive Theatre Actions), Enge-
kikai 2 (March 1944), p. 2.
13. Ibid., p. 3.
14. Atsumi , Rokudaime     (Critical Biography of 
VI), p. 6.
15. Omuro Nishio, “Kessen Engeki no  to Kyakuhon Kenetsu” (Toward Deci-
sive Theatre and Dramatic Censorship), Engekikai 1 (March 1944), p. 7.
16.     Nenshi, p. 167.
17. Quoted in Yamakawa Shizuo, Utaemon no Sokai (Utaemon’s Retreat from
Tokyo), pp. 35–36.

Chapter 3 The Occupation Commences and the Actors Return

1. Quoted in Douglas MacArthur, Reminiscences, p. 275.
2. Ibid., p. 3.
3. Microfiche transcript of interview with Bowers, conducted by Beate Gordon,
December 2, 1960. Columbia University Oral History Project (CUOH), p. 24.
Bowers expanded on his memories of MacArthur in “The Late General Mac-
Arthur: Warts and All,” Esquire 67 (January 1967). Some of the quotations
given in his CUOH interview differ a bit in the Esquire piece, but their intent
is the same. This essay also gives a clear picture of Bowers’s office duties for
SCAP.
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid., p. 18.
6. Ibid., p. 20.
7. The Japanese version of this book notes that Bowers claimed to have earned
$600 a month, a very high figure about which the author was skeptical. The
translator has reduced the sum based on figures obtained on August 31, 1999,
from James C. McNaughton, Command Historian, Department of the Army,
Presidio of Monterey, California, who supplied copies of the pertinent pages
in The Officers’ Guide, 8th ed. (Harrisburg, Pa.: The Military Service Publishing
Company, 1942).
8. “Ichi Doru   En” (One Dollar Equals 15 Yen), Asahi Shinbun, September 9,
1945.
9. This material is gleaned from various places in the Sengo Nedan-shi 
(Postwar Price Chronology),   Asahi, ed. (Tokyo: Asahi Shinbun, 1995).
10. “Ichi Doru
 En Kansanritsu o Kaisei” (Exchange Rate Revised to One
Dollar = 50 Yen), Asahi Shinbun, March 13, 1947.
184 Notes to Pages 39–50

11. Atsumi , Rokudaime     (Critical Biography of 

VI), p. 340.
12. Nakamura Kichiemon, Kichiemon Jiden (Kichiemon’s Autobiography), p. 315.
13. Ataka no Seki, by Enomoto Torahiko, is a 1905 dance-drama based on the same
story that inspired kabuki’s most often performed dance-drama,   . Its
distinguishing characteristic is that it is in the historically accurate “living his-
tory” (katsureki) style developed during the Meiji period. As explained in
Chapter 5,   , which was on the American censors’ proscribed list of
plays, was not produced until May 1946.
14. “Sengo no Kabuki no    to Kataru” (Speaking of Postwar Kabuki’s Sal-
vation), Engekikai 51 (November 1993), p. 136.

Chapter 4 Kabuki Censorship Begins: The “Terakoya” Incident

1. Douglas MacArthur, Reminiscences, p. 282.
2. Ibid., pp. 282–283.
3. Ibid., p. 147.
4. Quoted in D. Clayton James, The Years of MacArthur, Volume III: Triumph and
Disaster, 1945–1964, p. 301.
5. The censorship itself, it should be noted, was censored: no official statement
of its existence was permitted.
6. Quoted in Charles L. Mee, Jr., Meeting at Potsdam, p. 254.
7.  Jun, Wasureta koto to Wasuresaserareta koto (Things I’ve Forgotten and Things
I’ve Had to Forget), p. 56.
8. It should not be overlooked that MacArthur did his best to control the report-
ing of foreign journalists as well.
9. This Joint Chiefs of Staff document was actually first delivered by radiogram
to MacArthur, who had no part in its formulation, on August 29, 1945, while
he was stopping in Okinawa. See James, The Years of MacArthur, p. 11.
10. Kawatake Toshio, “  no Kabuki” (Kabuki under the Occupation), Bun-
gei   (December 1995), p. 212.
11. Reprinted in Kawatake Shigetoshi, “Kabuki    no Kiroku” (Record of
Kabuki’s Banishment), Engekikai 1 (January 1961), pp. 34–35. A slightly re-
vised version of this essay is Kawatake’s “    to
 Bunka”
(The Pacific War and the Culture of the Performing Arts), in his Nihon Engeki
Bunka Shiwa (History of Japanese Theatre Culture).
12. MacArthur, Reminiscences, pp. 283–284.
13. Kaneko  , “Mugoshi no Shinkokugeki” (Shinkokugeki Disarmed), Higeki
Kigeki 28 (April 1975), p. 15.
14. Ibid.
 Notes to Pages 50–59 185

15. Ibid.
16. The Tky Gekij reverted to films in 1952, after the Kabuki-za was rebuilt.
In 1975 it was reconstructed on a smaller scale. A few smallish Tokyo theatres
occasionally were pressed into service for kabuki during the early Occupation,
including the Shinjuku Daiichi
 and the !
 in Ueno. At the
end of 1947, the Mitsukoshi
, a theatre in the Mitsukoshi Department
Store in Nihonbashi, would become an important addition to this roster.
17. Toita Yasuji,  no   Sengo (Wartime and Postwar Recollections), p. 55.
18. As we have seen, kabuki already had been threatened in the directive issued
to film and theatre personnel on September 22.
19. Reprinted in Sugai Yukio, “  no Engeki” (Theatre under the Occupa-
tion), Higeki Kigeki 28 (April 1975), p. 38. Earle Ernst wrote: “None of the
Americans was aware that this requirement was ludicrous; it was comparable,
artistically, to requiring that a concert pianist play Chopsticks on his program
as an antidote to . . . Bach.” See The Kabuki Theatre, p. 267.
20. There is a brief account of this incident by Donald Richie, “The Occupied Arts,”
in The Confusion Era: Art and Culture of Japan During the Allied Occupation, ed.
Mark Sandler, p. 18. Richie incorrectly says that the incident occurred in
September and that the theatre was the Imperial (Teikoku
). Bowers
himself was known to get the name of the theatre wrong. See Bowers’s
“Twenty-Five Years Ago—How Japan Won the War,” New York Times Maga-
zine, August 30, 1970. Apart from later accounts by Kawatake Shigetoshi,
beginning with his Nihon Engeki Zenshi (History of Japanese Theatre), there
seem to be no earlier written reports on the “Terakoya” incident, which of
course, would have been censored during the Occupation. The intervening
years may have allowed the events to be embroidered by Bowers and others.
21. Kawatake Shigetoshi memo about stopping “Terakoya.” Collection of Toshio
Kawatake.
22. Kawatake Shigetoshi, “Kabuki    no Kiroku,” p. 35.
23. English-language plot summary of “Terakoya,” National Archives, Washing-
ton, D.C.
24. Kawatake Toshio, “  no Kabuki,” p. 213.
25. MacArthur, Reminiscences, p. 294.
26. Ibid.
27. Toita Yasuji,  no   Sengo, p. 62.
28. Lafcadio Hearn, however, attributes the concept to a Buddhist saying: Oya-ko
isse,  wa ni-se,   wa san-se. See his Glimpses of an Unfamiliar Japan, p. 661.
29. This list is given in Kawatake Shigetoshi, “Kabuki    no Kiroku,” pp. 35–
36. An English version is in Kawatake Toshio, “A Crisis of Kabuki and Its Re-
vival after the World War II,” Waseda Journal of Asian Studies 5 (1983), pp. 37–
38. The list provided in the text is an edited version of the list in this source.
186 Notes to Pages 59–69

A similar list, but organized differently, was provided for the film industry on
November 19, 1945. See Kyoko Hirano, Mr. Smith Goes to Tokyo: Japanese Cinema
under the American Occupation, 1945–1952, pp. 44–45.
30. Kaneko  , “Mugoshi no Shinkokugeki” (Shinkokugeki Disarmed), p. 15.
31. Kawatake’s memories are drawn from “Kabuki    no Kiroku,” pp. 34–41.
32. Ernst says the number was three hundred. He also notes that “a certain gen-
eral, hearing that such a list had been compiled, was with difficulty dissuaded
from issuing a directive which would have prohibited the performance of all
the plays listed.” The Kabuki Theatre, p. 266.
33. Iizuka !, Kabuki Saiken (A Close Look at Kabuki).
34. Kawatake Shigetoshi, “Kabuki    no Kiroku,” p. 37.
35. Ernst, The Kabuki Theatre, p. 259. Faubion Bowers, of course, had seen kabuki
before the war, but he did not become a censor until later.
36.   is discussed in Chapter 7.
37. Ernst, The Kabuki Theatre, p. 266.
38. Kawatake Shigetoshi, “Kabuki    no Kiroku,” p. 37. In his Nihon Engeki
Zenshi, p. 965, Kawatake says that Boruff asked for a three-year suspension.
39. Ibid.
40. Ibid.
41. Kawatake Shigetoshi, “    to
 Bunka,” p. 142.

Chapter 5 How Faubion Bowers “Saved” Kabuki

1. Bowers told the translator that Keith was “a broken-down actor from Poca-
tello, Idaho, whose idea of reforming the Japanese theatre was to have them
put on Broadway hits.” Nevertheless, Keith was responsible for some of the
earliest information provided to Western readers about theatre during the
Occupation. See his “Occupation and the Japanese Stage,” Theatre Arts 30
(October 1946), and “Curtain Time: Japan,” Theatre Arts 31 (March 1947).
2. Kawatake Shigetoshi, “Kabuki    no Kiroku” (“A Record of Kabuki’s Ban-
ishment”), Engekikai 19 (January 1961), p. 37.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid., p. 38.
5. Reproduced in Charles L. Mee, Jr., Meeting at Potsdam, p. 254.
6. Ibid.
7. “Kabuki Issai ni Kiyu, Kongo wa "  nomi ” (Kabuki To Be Abolished:
Hereafter, Only Dance to be Performed),   Shinbun, January 20, 1946.
8. “Kabuki wa Zenhai Sezu” (Kabuki Not to Be Abolished), Asahi Shinbun, Jan-
uary 23, 1946.
 Notes to Pages 69–74 187

9. Ibid.
10. “Appaku Jijitsu Nashi, Ma Shireibu Genmei” (No Truth to Oppression, De-
clares GHQ), Asahi Shinbun, January 23, 1946.
11. , “Kabuki Haishi Setsu ni Tsuite” (About the Report on Kabuki’s
Abolition), Engekikai (February 1946), quoted in Kanamori Kazuko, ed.,
Kabuki-za Hyakunen Shi (One Hundred Years of Kabuki-za History), p. 45.
12. The stage kiss in this play preceded by several months the first officially sanc-
tioned screen kisses in Japanese cinema, those seen in Hatachi no Seishun
(Twenty-Year-Old Youth) and Aru yo no Seppun (A Certain Night’s Kiss), which
opened simultaneously on May 23, 1946. These kissing scenes, which re-
ceived even more criticism, pro and con, than did the first theatrical examples,
had been suggested by the Occupation authorities, who are said to have felt
that kissing should not be something the Japanese did only in private. See
Kyoko Hirano, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington: Japanese Cinema under the American
Occupation, 1945–1952, p. 156ff. There seems to be no evidence of Occupation
persuasion behind the stage kiss in Takiguchi  no Koi (Priest Takiguchi’s
Love) and the plays that followed.
13. Microfiche transcript of interview with Bowers conducted by Beate Gordon
on December 2, 1960, Columbia University Oral History Project (CUOH), pp. 41–42.
14. “Oshimu Jisatsuteki Sochi, Kabuki no
 "#$#%    ni Kiku” (A
Shamefully Suicidal Step: What Bowers Says about Kabuki’s Situation),  
Shinbun, February 23, 1946.
15. That is, plays by kabuki’s most prolific dramatist, Kawatake Mokuami (1816–
1893).
16. Bowers told the translator that this was his way of playing along with the
Occupation. He claimed he did not wish to embarrass GHQ for its stupidity.
17. “Oshimu Jisatsuteki.”
18. Quoted in Kawatake Toshio, Kabuki Biron (About Kabuki Beauty), p. 23.
19. Chikamatsu Monzaemon, “On Realism in Art,” trans. Donald Keene, in Sources
of Japanese Tradition, Vol. 1, pp. 437–440.
20. Interestingly, the major impression kabuki made on some late nineteenth-
century Westerners encountering it for the first time was what they deemed
its striking realism in contrast to their own European performance style. The
acting (presumably in domestic dramas) seemed quite natural, in fact, an effect
enhanced by the use of the hanamichi runway for entrances and exits. Perhaps
as naturalistic tendencies have become commonplace in Western theatre since
the late nineteenth century, kabuki’s approach has come to seem more stylized
than it did to contemporary Western viewers. See Jean-Jacques Tschudin,
“The French Discovery of Traditional Japanese Theatre,” in Japanese Theatre
and the International Stage, Stanca Scholz-Cionca and Samuel L. Leiter, eds.
(Leiden, The Netherlands: E. J. Brill, 2000).
188 Notes to Pages 74–80

21. Kawatake Toshio, Kabuki Biron, p. 47.

22. Ikenami   no   ( Spring and Autumn), p. 232.
23. CUOH, p. 42.
24. Ibid.
25. Ibid., pp. 42–43.
26. Ibid., pp. 43–44.
27. Donald Richie, “The Occupied Arts,” in The Confusion Years: Art and Culture of
Japan during the Allied Occupation, 1945–1952.
28. In all fairness, however, it should be noted that Richie, in response to a letter
from this book’s translator, replied:

It was Earle himself who gave me my information. He felt that

he had never been given credit for the part he played in ‘saving’
Kabuki and I agree with him.
He was . . . Faubion’s superior and, if you knew him, you will
know that he was never “hard-nosed.” In the anti-feudal atmo-
sphere of the early Occupation (1945–6) he was working in the
only way he could—trying to convince the CI&E of the worth of
the Kabuki, play by play, as it were. . . .
You will also know that the later Occupation (1947–52) was
another matter. It had changed direction and was now as much
concerned with containing communism as it had been in uproot-
ing feudalism. . . .
Without wishing to denigrate Faubion’s achievement, I do
want to point out that the authorities were no longer as adamant
as they had been and that he could proceed at a faster pace than
Earle could.
That Earle should be cast as the “hard-nosed” bureaucrat who
opposed the younger reformer is both unfair and untrue. He has
never been given adequate credit for what he did. . . .
29. Santha Rama Rau, East of Home (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1950), p. 13.
Nakamura Baigyoku III (1875–1948) was one of the great veteran female-
role specialists of the day.
30. Ibid., pp. 13–14.
31. CUOH, p. 43. Bowers’s parties made an interesting contrast with those often
given by important film personnel for Allied censors. The latter parties, which
were eventually tainted with the brush of scandal when allegations of bribery
arose, were given by the Japanese to get the censors’ good will in passing on
their film projects. Bowers’s, on the other hand, were given by an American
for both the Japanese and other Americans, but, as far as the Americans were
concerned, with a not entirely dissimilar purpose in mind, getting them to
 Notes to Pages 80–95 189

lighten up when making their censorship decisions. For the film-related par-
ties, see Hirano, Mr. Smith Goes to Tokyo, p. 191.
32. Nakamura Utaemon VI and Yamakawa Shizuo, Utaemon no   (Sixty
Years of Utaemon), p. 94.
33. Mark Gayn, Japan Diary, p. 47.
34. As noted in the Translator’s Introduction, it is ironic that Ernst later made his
reputation as a scholar of Japanese theatre, publishing the still widely re-
spected Kabuki Theatre, 2d ed. (Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 1974).
As for Keith, he seems not to have vanished so easily. During Mr. Okamoto’s
research in Washington, D.C., he discovered an English-language synopsis
for Benten Musume Meo no Shiranami, popularly known as Benten  , which
shared the May and June 1946 bills with   and Sukeroku at the .
Attached to the synopsis was a conditional rider warning that the play should
not be shown to minors because it glorified thieves. It is dated May 1946,
says “OK,” and is signed by Keith and Ernst. A second document, dated April
27, 1946, for Sukeroku, seen at the  from May 5 to 31, also bears Keith’s
signature and an “OK.” Although Keith’s name was replaced by Ernst’s on
similar documents after the January 1946 “KABUKI TO BE ABOLISHED”
article, Keith seems to have continued his job alongside Ernst at least until
May or June 1946.
35. Kawatake Shigetoshi, “Kabuki    no Kiroku,” p. 39.
36. “Sengo no Kabuki no    to Kataru” (Speaking of Postwar Kabuki’s Sal-
vation), Engekikai 51 (November 1993), p. 136.
37. Hirano, Mr. Smith Goes to Tokyo, p. 32.
38. Kawatake Shigetoshi, “Kabuki    no Kiroku,” p. 39.
39. Rau, East of Home, pp. 47–48.
40. Ibid., p. 47.
41. Ibid., pp. 50–51.
42. Ernst, The Kabuki Theatre, p. 258.
43. Ibid.
44. Hirano, Mr. Smith Goes to Tokyo, p. 34.
45. Ibid.
46. It is not clear, but perhaps that was because he was taking on a position where
his superior was someone of lower military ranking.
47. This may refer to the word’s appearance in Benten  , where it means a kind
of “badger game,” in which the cross-dressed Benten would lure men into a
relationship and then blackmail them when the truth about his gender was
revealed.
48. Faubion Bowers, “Kenetsusei to Genzai no Nihon Engeki no ” (The Cen-
sorship System and the Situation of Today’s Japanese Theatre).
190 Notes to Pages 95–107

49. Kawatake Toshio, “  no Kabuki” (Kabuki under the Occupation), Bun-
gei   (December 1995), p. 219.
50. Miyake  , Engeki   (Theatre Guidebook), p. 69.
51. Letter in Faubion Bowers collection at    Library, Tokyo.
52. Kawatake Shigetoshi, “Kabuki    no Kiroku,” pp. 39–40.
53. Ibid.
54. Ibid., p. 39.
55. Note in the possession of Kawatake Toshio.
56. Bowers, “Kenetsusei.” Sakuramaru is one of the triplet brothers in Sugawara.
Feeling guilty for the troubles he has brought on Lord Sugawara no Michi-
zane, he kills himself in that part of Act III known alternately as “Ga no Iwai”
and “Satamura.” It is important to understand that midori is not a twentieth-
century convention but was instituted in Osaka during the first half of the
nineteenth century as a means of stimulating audience interest when the
number of worthwhile new plays was declining. New plays were, of course,
given complete productions, but their revivals were likely to be only of selected
scenes. By the mid-twentieth century, midori presentations far outnumbered
  productions.

57. CUOH, p. 45.

58. Kawatake Shigetoshi, “Kabuki    no Kiroku,” p. 40.

Chapter 6 Kabuki’s Suffering Ends

1. Senda Koreya, Senda Koreya Engeki  (Senda Koreya on Theatre), Vol. 2,
p. 215.
2. Ibid., p. 216. Senda obviously wrote this years before the impact of kabuki on
world theatre became as obvious as it is today.
3. Ibid., pp. 216–217.
4. Senda Koreya,  to Mosaku (Pointing and Groping), Vol. 1, p. 45.
5. Senda, Senda Koreya, Vol. 2, pp. 220–221.
6. Ibid., pp. 221–222.
7. Kawatake Toshio, “Engeki Rekisei ni Tsuite” (Theatre’s Historical Qualities),
Waseda Bungaku (June/July 1952).
8. Ibid.
9. Ibid.
10. Senda, Senda Koreya Engeki , Vol. 3, p. 201.
11. Ibid., p. 216.
12. Ibid., p. 217.
13. Miyake  , Engeki   (Theatre Guidebook), p. 108.
 Notes to Pages 107–120 191

14. I have translated the term “mono no aware” as “pathos,” but a fuller explana-
tion is needed. According to the Princeton Companion to Classical Japanese Liter-
ature, mono no aware refers to “the deep feelings inherent in, or felt from the
world and experience of it. In early classical times ‘aware’ might be an excla-
mation of joy or other intense feeling, but later [as in the example cited here]
came to designate sadder and even tragic feelings. Both the source or occa-
sion of such feeling and the response to the source are meant.” Earl Miner,
Hiroko Odagiri, and Robert E. Morrell, eds., Princeton Companion to Classical
Japanese Literature, p. 290.
15. Miyake, Engeki   , p. 157.
16. Ibid., p. 69.
17. Ibid., p. 157.
18. Miyake Shutar, Kabuki   (Kabuki Notes), p. 12.
19. Kawatake Shigetoshi, “Kabuki    no Kiroku” (A Record of Kabuki’s Ban-
ishment), Engekikai 1 (January 1961), p. 41.
20. Faubion Bowers, “Kenetsusei to Genzai no Nihon Engeki no ” (The Cen-
sorship System and the Situation of Today’s Japanese Theatre).
21. Ibid.

Chapter 7 Conclusion
1. Quoted in John W. Dower, Embracing Japan: Japan in the Wake of World War II,
p. 407.
2. Ibid.
3. The Constitution of Japan, available at http://www.promo.net.
4. Santha Rama Rau, East of Home (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1950), p. 120.
5. Ibid., p. 292.
6. Lafcadio Hearn, “A Conservative,” in Japan and the Japanese, ed. T. Ochiai,
p. 129.
7. Rau, East of Home, p. 51.
8. Lafcadio Hearn, “The Chief City of the Province of the Gods,” in Glimpses of
Unfamiliar Japan, p. 168.
9. Hearn, “Of the Eternal Feminine,” in Kokoro and reprinted in Japan and the
Japanese, ed. T. Ochiai, p. 212.
10. When a kabuki actor takes a new name, it is celebrated during a regular per-
formance with a special “name taking” (  hiro) ceremony. The ceremony
is performed throughout the run and is often done on tour so people in other
cities can see it. In 1985, the actor Ichikawa &  XII, who had recently
taken that name in Japan, repeated the ceremony for Americans during a
kabuki tour. It was the first showing of this ceremony abroad.
192 Notes to Pages 121–126

11. From March 2 to May 9, 1970.

12. Microfiche transcript of an interview with Bowers conducted by Beate Gordon
on December 2, 1960. Columbia University Oral History Project (CUOH), p. 46.
13. Ibid., p. 47.
14. If Nakamura Kichiemon II’s performances of this role are any indication of
its traditional approach, the actual expression is less a grin than a suggestion
of deep satisfaction and respect for the sword’s effectiveness.
Selected Bibliography

This bibliography is limited to works cited in the text. Japanese names are given in the Japa-
nese order except when the writer’s language is English.

“Appaku Jijitsu Nashi, Ma Shireibu Genmei” (No Truth to Oppression, Declares

GHQ). Asahi Shinbun, January 23, 1946.
Atsumi Seitar
. Rokudaime Kikugor
Hy
den (Critical Biography of Kikugor
VI).
Tokyo: T
yama-ya, 1950.
Bowers, Faubion. “Kenetsusei to Genzai no Nihon Engeki no J
tai” (The Censorship
System and the Situation of Today’s Japanese Theatre). Document in posses-
sion of Kawatake Toshio.
———. The Japanese Theatre. New York: Hermitage House, 1952. Reprint, Tokyo and
Rutland, Vt.: Tuttle, 1974.
———. “The Late General MacArthur: Warts and All.” Esquire 67 (January 1967).
———. “Twenty-Five Years Ago: When Japan Won the War.” New York Times Maga-
zine (August 30, 1970).
Chikamatsu Monzaemon. “On Realism in Art.” Trans. Donald Keene. In Sources of
Japanese Tradition, Vol. 1. Comp. Ryukaku Tsunoda, William Theodore de Bary,
Donald Keene. New York: Columbia University Press, 1964
Columbia University Oral History Project (CUOH). Microfiche transcript of an interview
with Faubion Bowers conducted by Beate Gordon, December 2, 1960.
Dower, John W. Embracing Japan: Japan in the Wake of World War II. New York: The
New Press, 1999.
“Engeki Kessen Hij
Sochi ni Tsuite” (About Decisive Theatre Actions). Engekikai 2
(March 1944).
Ernst, Earle. The Kabuki Theatre. London: Allen and Unwin, 1956. Second ed., Hono-
lulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 1974.
Et
Jun. Wasureta koto to Wasuresaserareta koto (Things I’ve Forgotten and Things I’ve
Had to Forget). Tokyo: Bungei Shunj, 1996.
Gayn, Mark. Japan Diary. New York: William Sloane, 1948.
Goedertier, Joseph M. A Dictionary of Japanese History. Tokyo: Walker/Weatherhill,
1968.

193
194 Selected Bibliography

“Haikan no Ji” (Cessation of Publication Notice). Engei Gah
37, no. 10 (October
1943).
Hearn, Lafcadio. “The Chief City of the Province of the Gods.” In Glimpses of Unfa-
miliar Japan. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1894. Reprint, Tokyo and Rutland, Vt.:
Tuttle, 1976.
———. “A Conservative.” Reprinted in Japan and the Japanese. Ed. T. Ochiai. Tokyo:
Hokuseido, 1933.
———. “Of the Eternal Feminine.” In Kokoro. Reprinted in Japan and the Japanese.
Ed. T. Ochiai. Tokyo: Hokuseido, 1933.
Hirano, Kyoko. Mr. Smith Goes to Tokyo: Japanese Cinema under the American Occupation,
1945–1952. Washington, D.C., and London: Smithsonian Institution Press,
1992.
“Ichi Doru Goj En Kansanritsu o Kaisei” (Exchange Rate Revised to One Dollar =
50 Yen). Asahi Shinbun, March 13, 1947.
“Ichi Doru Jgo En” (One Dollar Equals 15 Yen). Asahi Shinbun, September 9, 1945.
Iizuka Tomoichir
. Kabuki Saiken (A Close Look at Kabuki). Tokyo: Dai-ichi Shob
,
1926.
Ikenami Sh
tar
. Matagor
no Shunj (Matagor
’s Spring and Autumn). Tokyo: Cho
K
ronsha, 1977.
James, D. Clayton. The Years of MacArthur. Volume III: Triumph and Disaster, 1945–1964.
Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1985.
“Kabuki Issai ni Kiyu, Kongo wa Buy
nomi J
en” (Kabuki To Be Abolished: Here-
after, Only Dance to be Performed). T
ky
Shinbun, January 20, 1946.
“Kabuki wa Zenhai Sezu” (Kabuki Not to Be Abolished). Asahi Shinbun, January
23, 1946.
Kanamori Kazuko, ed. Kabuki-za Hyakunen Shi (One Hundred Years of Kabuki-za
History). Tokyo: Sh
chiku Kabushiki Kaisha, 1988.
Kaneko Ichir
. “Mugoshi no Shinkokugeki” (Shinkokugeki Disarmed). Higeki Kigeki
28 (April 1975).
Kawatake Shigetoshi. “Kabuki Tsuih
no Kiroku” (Record of Kabuki’s Banishment).
In Kawatake Shigetoshi, Nihon Engeki Zenshi (History of Japanese Theatre).
Tokyo: Iwanami Shoten, 1959.
———. “Kabuki Tsuih
no Kiroku” (Record of Kabuki’s Banishment). Engekikai 1
(January 1961).
———. “Taiheiy
Sens
to Gein
Bunka” (The Pacific War and the Culture of the
Performing Arts). In Kawatake Shigetoshi, Nihon Engeki Bunka Shiwa (His-
tory of Japanese Theatre Culture). Tokyo: Shinjusha, 1964.
Kawatake Toshio. “Engeki Rekisei ni Tsuite” (Theatre’s Historical Qualities). Waseda
Bungaku (June/July 1952).
 Selected Bibliography 195

———. “A Crisis of Kabuki and Its Revival after the World War II.” Waseda Journal
of Asian Studies 5 (1983).
———. Kabuki Biron (About Kabuki Beauty). Tokyo: T
ky
Daigaku Shuppankai,
1989.
———. “Senry
ka no Kabuki” (Kabuki under the Occupation). Bungei Shunj (De-
cember 1995).
Keene, Donald. On Familiar Terms. Tokyo: Kodansha International, 1994.
MacArthur, Douglas. Reminiscences. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1964.
McCullough, Helen Craig, trans. The Taiheiki: A Chronicle of Medieval Japan. Tokyo and
Rutland, Vt.: Tuttle, 1979.
Mee, Charles L., Jr. Meeting at Potsdam. New York: M. Evans and Company, 1975.
Miner, Earl; Hiroko Odagiri; and Robert E. Morrell, eds. Princeton Companion to Clas-
sical Japanese Literature. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1985.
Miyake Shutar
. Engeki Tech
(Theatre Guidebook). Tokyo: S
gensha, 1947.
———. Kabuki N
to (Kabuki Notes). Tokyo: Kobunsha, 1948.
Nakamura Kichiemon. Kichiemon Jiden (Kichiemon’s Autobiography). Tokyo: Kai-
meisha, 1951.
Nakamura Utaemon VI and Yamakawa Shizuo. Utaemon Rokujnen (Sixty Years of
Utaemon). Tokyo: Iwanami Shinsho, 1986.
Omuro Nishio. “Kessen Engeki no H
k
to Kyakuhon Kenetsu” (Toward Decisive
Theatre and Dramatic Censorship). Engekikai 1 (March 1944).
“Oshimu Jisatsuteki Sochi, Kabuki no Genj
Bwzu Sh
sa ni Kiku” (A Shame-
fully Suicidal Step: What Bowers Says about Kabuki’s Situation). T
ky
Shin-
bun, February 23, 1946.
tani Takejir
. “Senryoku Z
ky
to Engeki Katsuy
no Michi” (Using the Theatre
to Strengthen the War Effort). Engekikai 1 (November 1943).
Richie, Donald. “The Occupied Arts.” In The Confusion Era: Art and Culture of Japan
During the Allied Occupation. Ed. Mark Sandler. Washington, D.C., and Seattle:
Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, in association with University of Washington Press,
1997.
Senda Koreya. Senda Koreya Engeki Ronsh (Senda Koreya on Theatre). Vol. 2. Tokyo:
Miraisha, 1980.
———. Senda Koreya Engeki Ronsh. Vol. 3. Tokyo: Miraisha, 1985.
———. Shik
to Mosaku (Pointing and Groping). Vol. 1. Tokyo: Miraisha, 1978.
“Sengo no Kabuki no Kyseishi to Kataru” (Speaking of Postwar Kabuki’s Salva-
tion). Engekikai 51 (November 1993).
Sh
chiku Shichij Nenshi (Seventy-Year History of Sh
chiku). Tokyo: Sh
chiku Kabu-
shiki Kaisha, 1964.
196 Selected Bibliography

Shukan Asahi, ed. Sengo Nedan-shi Nenpy
(Postwar Price Chronology). Tokyo: Asahi
Shinbun, 1995.
Sugai Yukio. “Senry
ka no Engeki” (Theatre under the Occupation). Higeki Kigeki 28
(April 1975).
Terasawa Takanobu. “Kenetsu Kakari no Tachiba kara” (From the Censorship Board).
Engei Gah
37, no. 10 (1943).
Toita Yasuji. Kais
no Sench Sengo (Wartime and Postwar Recollections). Tokyo:
Seiab
, 1979.
Yamakawa Shizuo. Utaemon no Sokai (Utaemon’s Retreat from Tokyo). Tokyo:
Bungei Shunj, 1980.
Index

Many Japanese play titles are known by both short and long forms. In most such cases where
the short form is the first word or phrase in the title, the remaining words are given in paren-
theses, i.e., Akoya (no Kotozeme). Only play titles listed in Appendix B are given with their English
equivalents. Famous scenes are generally given in quotation marks, even when they often stand
alone as play titles, as for example, “Terakoya,” while the full-length plays from which they de-
rive are given in italics.

ACRID. See Association for the Comfort of Anuk Agung Anom, 116
Requisitioned Industries and Draftees aragoto, 173
actors: drafted into armed forces, 26, 40; Arashi Sanemon XI, 153
postwar return to kabuki, 40, 41, 42, Ariyoshi Sawako, 126
149; wartime hardships and casual- arrests of theatre personnel, 17, 18, 104,
ties, 26, 27, 28 133
Adachigahara, 129, 165 Aru Onna, 58
“Adasan,” 96 Aru yo no Seppun (A Certain Night’s Kiss),
admission costs, 25, 133, 136, 151, 152, 153. 187n. 12
See also taxes on admission Asada , 168
advance party (US Army), 12, 13, 14, 30, Asahi Shinbun (newspaper), 13, 37, 45, 69,
37, 72 116, 148, 150
aesthetic of cruelty (zankoku no bi), 74 Asakusa Kokusai  , 147, 153
aiguma, 73 Asakusa   -za, 27
Aiki Minami e Tobu, 143 Asama-maru, 137, 140
air raids, 11, 14, 25, 26, 30, 35, 85, 139, 146, Association for the Comfort of Requisitioned
147, 148 Industries and Draftees (  
Akechi Mitsu Toshihomare no Nokkiri, 145 Senshi Iraku no Kai), 141, 142, 143,
Akoya (no Kotozeme) (Akoya’s Koto Torture), 144, 145
64, 136, 149, 155 Association for the Examination of Enter-
Akutagawa
 , 10 tainment and Culture (  Bunka
Allied Translator and Interpreter Service    Kai), 59, 66, 149
(ATIS), 10 Association of Japanese Writers (Nihon
all-star productions, 84, 100 Bungeika ), 140
ambivalent characters, 83, 95, 107, 110 Ataka, 162
American embassy, xv, 30–32, 34, 35, 37, Ataka no Seki, 40, 137, 143
82, 91 Atsugi Airfield, xii, 13, 14, 30, 37, 121, 148
“American Who Saved Kabuki, The” (Kabuki Atsumi   , 20, 24, 39, 59, 67, 97
o Sukutta Amerikajin), xii, 84, 97 Awa no Naruto (The Whirlpool of Awa), 63,
“Amikawaya,” 110 156

197
198 Index
Awamochi, 132
Ayatsuri
, 144
“Azuma Odori,” 153
  Sarayashiki (The Gang Leader and the
Mansion of Plates), 24, 156, 169
  VII. See Ichimura Uzae-
mon XVII
 Kakitsu VII, 134. See Ichimura Uzae-
mon XVI
 Minosuke. See    VIII
   VII, 28, 100, 138, 153, 154
   VIII, 136
 Shinsui VII. See Ichimura Uzaemon
XVII
  V, 27
 Tsurunosuke III. See Nakamura
 IV
 Tsurunosuke IV. See Nakamura
 V
Benten , 85, 86, 151, 189n. 34
Benten Musume Meo no Shiranami, 189n. 34.
See also Benten  78; MacArthur impressions, 32; mar-
Benten-za, 147
Boruff, Capt. John, 52, 54, 60, 62, 64, 65,
66, 67, 78, 150
  (Tied to a Pole), 27, 138, 140, 148,
156
Bowers, Faubion, viii–xviii, 2–14, 17, 22, 32,
34–37, 42, 49, 71, 74–87, 89, 91–93,
95–102, 104, 106–110, 112, 113,
116–127, 131, 132, 148, 151, 152,
173, 177, 178, 183; and actors, ix, 27,
29, 75, 76, 77, 120, 121; on American
imperialism, 116, 117; appearance
and personality, x, xi; arrives in
Japan, ix; assigned to American
embassy, 30; Atsugi Airfield landing,
12, 13, 14, 148; ban on major plays,
96, 97, 110, 111, 112; biographical
note in newspaper, 71; birth, ix; as
CCD censor, 90, 91, 93, 103, 104,
151; censorship issues, 70, 71, 77, 109,
113; censorship personnel parties, 80,
81, 188n. 31; as critic, 97; defends
kabuki, 71, 72, 73, 150; discovers
kabuki, xi, 2, 4, 5, 15, 28; and Donald
Richie, 79; drafted into army, 8; duties
for SCAP, 31, 34; duties wartime, 10,
11; Earle Ernst comparison, 91; edu-
cation, ix; meets Emperor Hirohito,
35, 36; financial status, xi, xii; dubbed
“” 75; homosexuality, x, xi, 27;
honors, x, 11; income and living con-
ditions under SCAP, xv, 37; interest in
gamelan, ix; interest in Scriabin, x; as
interpreter, ix; introduces kabuki to
GHQ, 78, 79, 80, 151; Japanese
friends, 5, 9; as kabuki’s savior, xii,
xiii, xv, xvi, 77, 123, 124; Kagotsurube
criticism, 125, 126; lack of opposition
to his policies, 109; Lafcadio Hearn
comparison, 118, 119; language
ability, 8; learns Japanese, 8–10; learns
of “Terakoya” incident, 101; leaves
Japan (1941), 8; leaves Japan (1948),
136, 154; leaves MacArthur, 89;
lobbies for young actors, 86; love for
Japan, 117; as MacArthur’s aide-de-
camp, 14, 15, 30; MacArthur helps,
riage and divorce, ix; midori criticism,
99; and   restoration, 99,
100; advises Nakamura  V,
122; in Netherlands Indies, 8; New
York apartment, xii; Occupation poli-
cies dismay, 88; conflict with  
 , 84; as pianist, ix; as pro-
ducer, x; promotions in army, 10, 12;
suspected of spying, 6, 7; as teacher,
x; thoughts on, 104, 127; Tokyo living
conditions (1940), xv; as simultaneous
translator, x; asks about Uzaemon XV,
14; writings, ix
Brandon, James R., 91
bunraku. See puppet theatre
Bunraku-za, 148, 150, 152, 154
Bunshichi Motoyui, 139, 140
“Bunya,” 142
 , 50, 71, 84, 89
butai, 135
Byakkotai, 136
Cabinet Information Board, 18, 20, 24, 25,
133, 134, 135, 137, 139, 140, 141,
144, 145, 149

CCD. See Civil Censorship Detachment
censorship: and children’s roles, 14, 59, 63,
92, 105, 160, 161; and directive of
September 22, 1945, 47, 48; and
domestic plays, 72 116; dual system,
90; and female characters, vii, 14, 15,
19, 24, 43, 50, 61, 63, 133, 134, 172;
and films, ix, 58, 83, 84, 90, 91, 115,
135, 137, 138, 148, 149; under GHQ,
viii, ix, 42, 45–47, 50, 52, 54, 56–59,
62–64, 66, 67, 69, 70, 81, 87, 89–92,
97, 101, 109, 112, 115, 148–151,
185n. 21; and historical figures, 63;
and history plays, 64, 68, 72, 77, 87,
95, 97, 116; and Kawatake Mokuami
plays, 72, 116; and puppet theatre,
152; during wartime, 17, 18, 20–24,
26, 50, 57, 89, 108, 133–135, 138–
141, 145, 146. See also substitution
plays and situations; suicide plays
“Censorship System and the Situation of
Today’s Japanese Theatre, The,” 95
“Chief City of the Province of the Gods, The,”
118
Chikamatsu Hanji, 156, 166, 175
Chikamatsu Monzaemon, 18, 74, 163, 168,
173, 175
Chikamatsu !, 163
Chikuda Kinji, 179
China, 6, 19, 26, 31, 41, 106, 130, 132, 136,
151, 170
Chinamikai, 154
Chirosu Aruji, 159
chivalrous robber plays (shiranami mono), 63,
86, 171
Chou Wen-Wei, 136
 -hime (Princess " ), 64, 156
  , 141
   (The Treasury of Loyal Re-
tainers), 2–4, 18, 19, 22, 28, 55, 63,
74, 98, 99, 110–115, 129, 132, 135–
137, 141, 143, 144, 146–148, 153
CI&E. See Civil Information and Education
Section.
Civil Censorship Detachment, 90
Civil Information and Education Section
(CI&E), 47, 52, 55–63, 65–67, 77, 78,
90, 92, 109, 148, 149
Index 199
Civil Intelligence Section (CIS), 90
closing of theatres, 24, 25
condolence performances, 19, 20, 144–146,
147
Confucianism, 57, 58, 98
“Conservative, A,” 119
Constitution of Japan, 115, 116, 152
Cruelty of Beauty, The, x, 74, 84
Daibosatsu  , 58
Daiei, 58
Dai-Ichi Insurance Building (Dai-Ichi Seimei
Biru), xv, 34, 52
Dainihon   Kai. See Greater Japan Per-
forming Arts Association
Dainihon  . See Greater Japan
Actors’ Society
Dainihon  Fujin Kai. See Greater
Women’s Defense Association
Daitokuji, 141
Dan no Ura Kabuto Gunki. See Akoya (no
Kotozeme)
Dan-Kiku Festival, 132, 135, 139, 142, 152
Dan-Kiku-Sa, 15
demilitarization, 44, 47
democratization, xv, 43, 44, 46, 47, 49, 57,
67–70, 82, 90, 112, 149
   58
Dokucha no Tansuke, 144
  Masamune, 58
domestic drama (sewamono), 61, 77, 160–
162, 167, 169, 170, 173, 175, 177
“#,” 99, 135, 144
Dontsuku, 141
Dower, John W., viii, 115
Echigo Jishi (Lion of Echigo), 19, 158
Edo no Yume, 132
Edo Sodachi Omatsuri Sashichi (Bred in Edo,
Festival Sashichi), 168
Ehon    133, 137, 138
Ejima Ikushima (Lady Ejima and the Actor
Ikushima), 24, 143, 158
Embracing Defeat: Japan in the Wake of World
War I, viii
Emperor Hirohito, xv, xvii, 12, 35, 36, 150,
152, 153
$ Tameharu, 59
200 Index

Engei   (Theatre Illustrated), 20, 144 72, 77, 81, 83, 90–92, 95–97, 101,
Engeki (Theatre), 20, 135, 144 109, 112, 121, 148–150, 152, 154
Engeki Bunka Iinkai. See Theatre and Culture “General Plan for Emergency War Measures,”
Committee 24, 25, 145
Engeki   (Theatre Guidebook), 108 Genpei Nunobiki Taki, 143
Engekikai (Theatre World), 20, 21, 25, 40, Genroku    137
54, 66, 70, 144, 150 Genyadana, 24, 136, 138, 140, 142, 152, 158,
Enomoto Torahiko, 184n. 13 159
Ernst, Earle, viii, 60, 62, 64, 67, 78, 79, 81– geza, 146
87, 90, 91, 95, 151, 188n. 28, 189  , 5, 62, 108, 181
$  Jun, 46 Ginza  51, 149
“Gion Ichiriki Jaya,” 98
freedom of speech and press. See censorship, Gion Sairei
 (The Gion Festival
under GHQ Chronicle of Faith), 164
“From the Censorship Board,” 20, 21 Go Taiheiki (Shiroishi Banashi) (The Tale of
Fudeya   144 Shiroishi and the Taihei Chronicles),
Fugu Taiko, 140 61–63, 159
“Fuingiri” (Breaking the Seal), 168   no  58
Fuji Musume, 133, 138, 141, 144 Gonpachi Yume Hitosuji, 148
Fujimoto Tobun, 166 Gonza to
, 133
Fujita Hikonori, 35 Gosho no    132, 138
Fujiwara Yoshie Kagekidan, 136, 138, 141 “Goten,” 139
Fukuchi   141, 161 Goto
 64
Funa Benkei, 135, 142  
 (Five Gallon ), 159
Funabashi Seiichi, 70 Greater Japan Actors’ Association (Dainihon
Funabashi   , 150  ), 18, 134
Furisode Goten, 137 Greater Japan Performing Arts Association
Futa Omote (Shinobu Sugata-e) (Twin Faces (Dainihon   Kai), 146
and a Picture of the Fern Sellers Greater Japan Women’s Defense Associa-
in Disguise), 52, 137, 139, 149, tion (Dainihon  Fujin Kai), 7
158
Futatsu    (Kuruwa Nikki) (Diary of Two Hachijin, 145
Butterflies of the Pleasure Quarters), -za, 145
64, 139, 145, 160 Hakata, 146
! Su, 143
G2 (General Staff Section 2), 90 Hamlet, 71, 73, 88, 97, 107, 124
“Ga no Iwai” (Felicitations), 176 Hanagata Kabuki Kai, 133, 135
gamelan, 71, 116 hanamichi, 51, 85, 108, 122, 161, 162, 169,
Gayn, Mark, 81 173, 187
  Ichidai Otoko, 137 Hane no Kamuro, 132
Geijutsu Sai (Arts Festival), 153 harakiri. See seppuku
  Bunka    Kai. See Association for Haru no Shimo, 139
the Examination of Entertainment Hasegawa Shigure, 137
and Culture Hasegawa Tadashi, 5–7, 37, 152
Gekisaku (Playwriting), 135, 152 Hata  , 20, 96
Gendai Engeki (Today’s Theatre), 20, 144 Hatachi no Seishun, 187n. 12
General Headquarters (GHQ), xv, xvi, 15, Hato no Heieimon, 145
42, 45, 50, 52, 54, 56–59, 66–67, 69– Hatsugatsuo, 132

Hayashi " . See Hayashi    II
Hayashi    II, 141
head inspection scenes (kubi jikken), 53, 54,
86, 110, 165
Hearn, Lafcadio, 117–119, 185
Heike Monogatari (Tales of the Heike), 165
Heike  ga Shima (The Heike and the
Island of Women), 175
Hibiya Dai-%. See Hibiya Grand
Concert Hall
Hibiya Grand Concert Hall (Hibiya Dai-
%), 134, 136
Higashikuni, Prince, 14
Higashiyama Sakura no
 i (The Tale of the
Martyr of Sakura), 169
Higeki Kigeki (Comedy and Tragedy), 50, 153
Hijikata Yoshi, 104
Hijikata Yoshizawa, 149
“Hikimado” (Skylight), 64, 160
Hikosan Gongen Chikai no Sukedachi (The Incar-
nation on Mount Hiko and the Oath
of Assistance), 163
“&& Denju,” 99, 141
Hiragana Seisuiki (A Beginner’s Version of the
Rise and Fall of the Heike Clans), 63,
138, 160
Hirano, Kyoko, ix, 84, 90
Hirohito, Emperor. See Emperor Hirohito
Hiroshima, 26, 148
history plays (jidaimono), 18, 59, 64, 69, 77,
87, 92, 134, 155, 156, 159, 160, 163,
175–178. See also censorship, and
history plays.
Hiyu ga Shima, 137
-za, 133, 145, 148, 151
 Kudai Meika no Isaoshi (Exploits of the
Ninth  Shogun’s Illustrious
Family), 177
   158
homosexuality, xi, 82. See also Bowers,
Faubion
honkadori (allusive variation), 125
Horikawa (Nami no Tsuzumi), 134, 152
Hosokawa Kiroku, 141
Ibaraki, 19, 134, 139, 145
   144
Ichikawa # I, 173
Index 201
Ichikawa # IX, 26, 86, 132, 152
Ichikawa # XI, 28, 83, 86
Ichikawa # XII, 191n. 10
Ichikawa Danko III. See Ichikawa Enno-
suke III
Ichikawa #! VIII, 144
Ichikawa $! IX. See Ichikawa # XI
Ichikawa Ennosuke II, 18, 40, 51, 52, 70, 96,
132–134, 142, 143, 145, 147–149,
150, 152, 154
Ichikawa Ennosuke III, 125, 151
Ichikawa En’o. See Ichikawa Ennosuke II
Ichikawa $ , 152
Ichikawa ! IV, 147
Ichikawa Jukai, 40
Ichikawa Jukai III, 40, 145
Ichikawa Monnosuke VII, 151
Ichikawa Otora. See Ichikawa Sadanji IV
Ichikawa Sadanji I, 26
Ichikawa Sadanji II, 132, 133
Ichikawa Sadanji IV, 152
Ichikawa    II, 133
Ichikawa    III. See Ichikawa Monno-
suke VII
Ichikawa   Kabuki, 154
Ichikawa   V. See Matsumoto
  VIII
Ichikawa ! VI, 132, 145
Ichikawa Takashi. See Ichikawa Monno-
suke VII
Ichikawan En’o. See Ichikawa Ennosuke II
Ichimura  . See Ichimura  '

Ichimura Uzaemon XIV, 139
Ichimura Uzaemon XV, 2, 4, 14–16, 18, 19,
26, 28, 29, 72, 76, 131–145, 147, 148
Ichimura Uzaemon XVI, 133, 152
Ichimura Uzaemon XVII, 26, 29, 41, 123,
135
Ichimura  , 135
Ichinotani Futaba Gunki (Chronicles of the
Battle of Ichinotani). See “Kumagai
Jinya”
Igagoe   Sugoroku, 137
Ihara Seiseien [ ], 137
Iizuka  , 60
Ikeda Daigo, 138
Ikeda Ito, 28
202 Index
Ikenami   , 22, 50, 75
Imoseyama, 139, 143
imperial rescript (August 15, 1945), 12
Imperial Rule Assistance Association (Taisei
Yokusan Kai), 6, 134
Imperial Theatre. See Teikoku  
Information Dissemination Section. See Civil
Information and Education Section
Inoye [sic] School of English Language, 4
Invitational Yasukuni Shrine Great Festival
for Bereaved Family Condolence
Society (Yasukuni Jinja  
Izokuka Ian Kai), 142
Ippon Gatana   Iri, 143
Ise Ondo, 136
Ishikiri Kajiwara, 138, 141, 147
Ishin no !   , 135
Ishiwata  , 35
Iwai   X, 148
Iwai  , 26, 148
Japan Academy of Arts. See Nihon Geijutsu-in
Japan Actors Association (Nihon  '
), 145
Japan Cultural League (Nihon Bunka
Renmei), 132
Japan Theatre Association, 150
Japan Touring Theatre League, 18, 137
Japan Workers League (Nihon

 ), 133
Japanese Language and Culture School,
The, 4, 8
Japanese Theatre, The, viii, 112, 173, 177, 178
Japanese Theatre Company (publishers), 20
Japanese Theatre Cooperative Association
(Nihon Engeki ), 136
jidaimono. See history plays
“Jinmon,” 139
Jippensha Ikku, 178
Jitsukawa Enjaku II, 137
Jitsuroku Sendai Hagi, 143, 144
( . See Cabinet Information Board
“Junrei Uta” (The Pilgrim’s Song), 156
kabuki: as aesthetic theatre, vii, 50, 74, 104,
106, 112, 113; approved by Senda
Koreya, 104, 105, 106, 107; attacked
by Senda Koreya, 103; censorship
ends, 113; as classical drama, 21, 22;
contrasted with Western acting, 89;
debate over literary value, 105, 106;
defended by Kawatake Toshio, 105;
feudalistic ideas, vii, xv, 3, 15, 38, 48–
50, 54, 58, 63, 67, 69, 71, 72, 82, 84,
92, 97, 99, 104, 106, 107, 109, 113,
123, 127, 149, 153, 165, 168, 188;
history of oppression, vii, xii, 17; and
Japan’s “emotional history,” 88;
loyalty themes, xv, 22, 23, 48, 49, 50,
54, 57, 59, 63, 77, 82, 84, 86, 88, 95,
106, 107, 109, 110, 112, 121, 153,
157, 162, 172; meaning of the word,
73; “monster of style,” 105; perfor-
mance styles, vii; postwar revival, 51;
realism versus nonrealism, 73, 74,
124, 187; revenge themes, xv, 3, 4,
22, 24, 48, 49, 50, 59, 60, 62, 88, 92,
109, 112, 121, 126, 157, 159, 164,
165, 169; “scenes of fascination,” 105;
survival, 108; as theatre of ideas, vii,
22, 84, 106, 107; as world-class
theatre, 104, 113. See also censorship;
history plays; substitution plays and
situations
Kabuki Biron (About Kabuki Beauty), 73
Kabuki Investigation Committee for the
Collection and Selection of Outstand-
ing Scripts (Kabuki    Iinkai
    )  Kyakuhon), 140
Kabuki Kai, 133, 135, 136, 138
Kabuki    Iinkai     ) 
Kyakuhon. See Kabuki Investigation
Committee for the Collection and
Selection of Outstanding Scripts
“Kabuki Not To Be Abolished,” 69, 150
Kabuki o Sukutta Amerikajin. See “American
Who Saved Kabuki, The”
Kabuki o Sukutta Otoko (The Man Who Saved
Kabuki), xiv
Kabuki Saiken, 60
Kabuki Theatre, The, viii
“Kabuki To Be Abolished,” 68, 70, 81, 87,
101, 150, 189
Kabuki-za, 2, 4, 5, 25, 27, 28, 51, 70, 99, 122,
124, 131–148, 152, 154, 181, 185
Kado-za, 25, 137, 145, 147, 153, 154
 Index 203

Kagami Jishi (Mirror Lion), 51, 134, 138, 101, 116, 141, 162, 165, 167, 169,
140, 141, 143–145, 147, 149, 170, 177, 178
161 Kawatake Shigetoshi, 47, 54–56, 58–60, 63,
Kagamiyama  Nishiki-e, 139 66, 77, 82, 86, 95, 96, 100, 101, 110,
(Kagotsurube) Sato no Eizame (The Sobering 129, 130
Tale of the Sword Kagotsurube), 125, Kawatake Shinshichi III, 161
126, 153, 161 Kawatake Toshio, 47, 56, 73, 74, 95, 105,
Kaigun, 143, 144 126
  141 “Kawatsura  -kan,” 138
Kamakura Sandaiki, 137 Keene, Donald, 9
Kamiya Jihei, 131, 152, 163 Keisei   141
Kamiyui Shinza (Shinza the Barber), 24, 139, Keith, Lt. Hal, 66–68, 70, 78, 81, 98, 150,
162 186, 189
“Kamo Tsutsumi,” 135 Kenshira Gishi, 140
Kanadehon   . See    Keya Mura (Keya Village), 140, 163
Kanda Matsuri, 137 Kezori, 139
Kaneko , 50, 59 Ki no ( , 159
   (The Subscription List), 64, 77, 81– Kiichi  Sanryaku no Maki, 134, 144
85, 89, 129, 135, 144, 151, 152, 162, Kikubatake, 136, 147
184 Kikuchi Kan, 153
Kanpei no Shi, 139 Kiku-Kichi, 26, 38, 77, 150
“Kanpei Seppuku,” 19 Kimura Tomiko, 147
Kan’u, 140 Kinkakuji (Temple of the Golden Pavilion),
Kasa Sata Kachiho, 134 164
Kasane, 24, 133, 143, 144  Fudoki, 140
Kasuga " , 145 Kirare Yosa. See Genyadana
kata, 23, 73, 75, 122 Kiri Hitoha, 138, 142, 145
katanashi, 125 Kisaka, 143
Kataoka   II, 151 Kisen, 144
Kataoka Hikojin. See Kataoka   II Kitamura
 134, 143
Kataoka Nizaemon X, 145 Kitano  , 25, 145
Kataoka Nizaemon XI, 134 Kiwametsuki Banzui    139
Kataoka Nizaemon XII, 37, 85, 137, 138, Kiyomasa
   Roku, 142
144, 149, 150 Kiyomizu Ikkaku, 147
Kataoka Nizaemon XIII, 72 kiyomoto, 166
Kataoka Yoshinao. See Ichimura   Kiyomoto $. See Kiyomoto $'
katayaburi, 125  VI
Katsuragawa (Renri no Shigarami) (The Katsura Kiyomoto $ V, 142
River and the Eternal Bonds of Love), Kiyomoto $ VI, 154
64, 162 Kobe, 4, 25, 139, 145
katsureki. See living history plays Kochiyama, 134, 139, 142, 167
Kawai Takeo, 139 , 133
Kawajiri Seitan, 59, 132, 133, 144 “Koi no Tenarai,” 67
Kawakami Sakayakko, 151 Koizumi Fushiko, 117
Kawarasaki   V, 26, 149 Koizumi Yakumo. See Hearn, Lafcadio
Kawasho (The Kawasho Teahouse), 64, 152, Kokaji, 142
163 “ Omotemon Uchiiri/Sumibeya
Kawatake Mokuami, 47, 48, 68, 69, 72, 86, Honkai,” 110
204 Index
Kokumin Engeki, 135, 144
Kokumin Engeki (People’s Theatre), 20
Kokumin Engeki   . See People’s The-
atre Encouragement of Selections
Kokumin  , 147
Kokuritsu  , 3, 17, 100
Kokusai  , 25, 145
“Komachi,” 142
#   142
Kongen Kusazuri Biki, 139
Koongaku-, 148
Kotobuki Shiki
, 135
kubi jikken. See head inspection scenes
Kubota  , 20, 51, 59, 149
kumadori makeup, 73
“Kumagai Jinya” (Kumagai’s Battle Camp),
57, 63, 71, 72, 77, 81, 82, 86, 87, 89,
95, 107, 108, 110, 116, 124, 129, 132,
138, 139, 145, 151, 164, 165
“Kumiuchi,” 148
Kumo ni $ Ueno no Hatsuhana (The First
Flowers of Ueno), 22, 167
Kumo Somu Shikabane, 145
Kuni Namari Futaba no Oizuru, 140
Kurabe Tengu, 58
Kurayama Danmari, 135
Kuro Neko, 133
Kurosawa Akira, 83
Kurotegumi Kuruwa no Tatehiki, 139
Kurozuka (Black Mound), 51, 143, 147, 148,
165
“Kuruma Biki” (Pulling the Carriage Apart),
99, 135, 141, 147, 176, 177
Kuruwa   141
, 27, 98, 156
 -za, 152
 Harusame Gasa, 140
Kyoto, 4, 25, 40, 41, 121, 135, 139, 145,
148, 151
 , 146, 163
living history plays (katsureki), 184n. 13
Ma Bu-fang, 116
MacArthur, Gen. Douglas: arrives at Atsugi
Airfield, 30, 148; assumes duties as
SCAP, 30; command at American
embassy, 32; as cultural barbarian,
118; on democratization, 43; as dic-
tator, 32; meets Emperor Hirohito, 35,
36; on freedom of speech and press,
45; on Japanese feudalism, 49;
kabuki’s expectations of him, 52;
offices, 34; personal qualities, 32, 34,
35, 78, 178; speaks at signing of
surrender, xvii, 31, 38, 142 ; on his
subordinates, 32, 78; on voluntary
compliance, 56
Makuai, 151
makumi, 5
Man Who Saved Kabuki, The, viii, ix
Manchuoku, 140, 143
Maruyama Sadao, 148
$  no
 22
Matsuda , 160, 174
Matsumoto . See Matsumoto '
  VIII
Matsumoto  . See Matsumoto '
  IX
Matsumoto   VII, 52, 53, 55, 73, 75,
82, 83, 85, 86, 93, 98, 100, 111, 135,
137–140, 144, 145, 149, 151–154
Matsumoto   VIII, 77, 120, 127
Matsumoto   IX, 77, 86, 119, 120,
151, 182
Matsumoto   V. See Matsumoto
  VIII
Mayama Seika, 134, 136, 140, 144, 154
Megumi no Kenka, 135, 141
Meiboku Sendai Hagi (The Precious Incense
and Autumn Flowers of Sendai), 63,
92, 109, 132, 135, 136, 142, 153, 165
Meido no Hikyaku (The Courier for Hell), 168
Meijin Kagoya, 143
Meiji-za, 25, 131, 134, 143, 145–148
Meiwa   144
Mekari no Shinji, 138
Mekura Nagaya, 141
michiyuki (travel dance), 63, 139, 143, 149,
157, 163, 172
Michiyuki Ukine no Tomidori, 138
midori, 2, 3, 98, 99, 190
mie poses, 73, 79
migawari . See substitution plays and
situations
Migita Torahiko, 158
militarism, 6, 48, 49, 50, 58, 59, 68, 69, 87,
149

Minami-za, 25, 135, 139, 145, 146, 148, 151
Ministry of Education, 133–135, 149, 153
Ministry of Internal Affairs, 22, 25, 52, 83,
133, 135, 146
Misono-za, 25, 145, 146, 148, 153
Mito #  $  58
Mitsukoshi  , 151, 152, 185
Mitsukoshi Hall, 151
Mitsuwakai, 154
Miyake   , 95, 107
Miyamoto Musashi, 58
Miyoshi  , 157, 171, 176
Mizukami  , 51, 149
Mizuno Tadakuni, 123
Mizutani Yaeko, 18, 70, 150, 154
Modori Kago, 136, 137, 138, 147
Momijigari (The Maple Viewing), 79, 135,
136, 165
mondo, 85
mono no aware, 107
“Moritsuna Jinya” (“Moritsuna’s Camp”),
98, 109, 110, 134, 139, 144, 153,
166
Mukashi Banashi $ # , 132
Musuko, 150
Musume  (The Maiden at the # Tem-
ple), 67, 135, 136, 139, 141, 142, 158,
166
Nagara no Hitobarashi, 137
nagauta, 165
Nagawa Kamesuke, 165
Nagayama Takeomi, 85, 113, 153
Nagoya, 25, 139, 145, 148, 153
Nakamura Baigyoku III, 80, 112, 140, 153,
188
Nakamura Fukusuke VI. See Nakamura
Utaemon VI
Nakamura Fukusuke VII. See Nakamura
Shikan VII
Nakamura Ganjaku IV, 139. See Nakamura
 II
Nakamura  I, 135, 141, 152
Nakamura  II, 72, 75, 152, 153
Nakamura  III, 137
Nakamura  . See Nakamura '
 III
Nakamura  . See Nakamura Jakue-
mon IV
Index 205
Nakamura Jakuemon III, 26
Nakamura Jakuemon IV, 26, 132, 153
Nakamura Kai, 137, 140, 143
Nakamura Kaisha, 26, 148
Nakamura  V, 19
Nakamura ! XVII, 19, 28, 53, 100,
122, 126
Nakamura Kichiemon I, 26–28, 38, 39, 41,
52, 55, 73, 76, 82, 85–89, 93, 96, 100,
101, 111, 117, 121, 123, 127, 131,
132, 134, 135, 137–145, 147–154
Nakamura Kichiemon II, 154, 182n. 6
Nakamura Komanusuke VII. See Arashi
Sanemon XI
Nakamura  . See Nakamura Shikan VII
Nakamura Mannosuke. See Nakamura
Kichiemon II
Nakamura   II, 17, 19, 22, 23, 26,
40, 41, 75, 135, 149
Nakamura Moshio IV. See Nakamura
! XVII
Nakamura Senjaku I. See Nakamura Gan-
jaku IV
Nakamura Shikan VI. See Nakamura Utae-
mon VI
Nakamura Shikan VII, 135, 151, 153
Nakamura Shokei, 26
Nakamura ! III, 53, 100, 112
Nakamura  IV, 141
Nakamura  V, 121, 143
Nakamura  , 26
Nakamura ! IV, 149
Nakamura Utaemon V, 26, 133, 135, 137
Nakamura Utaemon VI, xi, 19, 27, 28, 83,
93, 100, 112, 135, 137, 146, 148,
182n. 5
Naka-za, 25, 131, 143, 145, 147, 153
Namiki Eisuke, 159
Namiki Gohei I, 170
Namiki  . See Namiki 
Namiki  !, 138
Namiki  , 156, 157, 165, 171, 176
Naniwa-za, 147, 151
Nanmei-za, 147
Naozamurai, 15, 22–24, 72, 134, 139, 142,
143, 167
“Narihira,” 142
National Theatre of Japan. See Kokuritsu
 
206 Index

Natsu Matsuri, 133 Occupation policies, 43–47, 49, 50, 56, 57,
Nawa Nagatoshi, 135 84, 112, 115
Nebiki no Kadomatsu, 140 Ochiudo, 139, 152
Nezumi Komon Haru no Shingata (The Rat    Senshi Iraku no Kai. See Asso-
and the Fine Patterned New Spring ciation for the Comfort of Requisi-
Fashion), 63, 167 tioned Industries and Draftees
Nezumi . See Nezumi Komon Haru no  , 150
Shingata    Seidan, 139
NHK Building, 60, 100 Ogiya Kumagai, 153
Nichigeki, 51, 91 oie , 109
Nichigo Bunka . See Japanese Lan- Oka % , 20, 142, 144
guage and Culture School Okamoto , 136, 137, 139, 156
 , 140, 149 Okina, 170
Nihon Bungeika . See Association of Okumura  !, 35, 36
Japanese Writers Okuni, 69
Nihon Bunka Renmei. See Japan Cultural -za, 144
League Omatsuri Sashichi (Festival Sashichi), 63, 139,
nihon  recitals, 136, 137, 141 168
Nihon Engeki (Japanese Theatre), 20, 51, 96, # Genji Senjin Yakata (The Genji Vanguard
144 at the  Mansion), 109, 132,
Nihon Engeki . See Japanese Theatre 166
Cooperative Association Omoi Hikoshichi, 138
Nihon Engeki Sha. See Japanese Theatre Omoide Soga, 148
Company #  Hikoshichi, 136, 142
Nihon Geijutsu-in (Japan Academy of Arts), Omuro Nishio, 25
27, 152–154 onnagata, xi, 19, 26, 27, 38, 74, 110, 133,
Nihon   25, 145 139, 150, 153
Nihon  Engeki Renmei. See Japan Touring Onoe  VII, 28, 40, 75, 83, 93, 100, 133,
Theatre League. 134, 152–154
Nihon
  . See Japan Workers Onoe $! VIII, 151
League Onoe  V, 26, 132, 152
  no Kiyomasa, 145, 147 Onoe  VI, xi, 26, 27, 29, 38, 39, 51,
Nikkatsu, 58 52, 73, 75, 77, 82, 85, 96, 100, 103,
Nikutai no Mon, 152 111, 123, 132, 134–136, 138–142,
Ninin Bakama, 138 144–154
Ninin Tomomori, 133 Onoe  VII, 154
  Banashi Koban  , 144 Onoe Kikunosuke III, 135, 151. See Onoe
Ninokuchi Mura, 64, 152, 168  VII
Nishiura no Kami, 142 Onoe ! VI, 26
, 85, 107, 113, 129, 140, 141, 156, 162, Onoe Kuroemon II, 134, 135
165, 170, 178 Onoe   II, xi, 26, 51, 83, 96, 100,
Nomitori Otoko, 136 112, 133, 135, 149, 153
Nozaki Mura, 138 Onoe Ukon. See Onoe Kuroemon II
Onoe Ushinosuke V. See Onoe  VII
Occupation of Japan, vii–xiii, xv–xvii, 14, Onshin , 138
22, 31–32, 43–50, 56–59, 64, 78–79, Osaka, 25, 98, 112, 113, 133–135, 137, 141,
83–84, 98, 109, 112–113, 115–117, 143, 145, 147, 148, 150–154
120, 151, 152   , 25, 145, 146

  Adachigahara (Adachi Field in  ),
96, 175
  Hirotaru. See Nakamura Jakuemon IV
   , 21, 66–68, 70, 84, 112, 132,
150
  Tomoemon VI, 139, 144
  Tomoemon VII. See Nakamura Jakue-
mon IV
Otogi Banashi Kachikachi Yama, 133
otokodate, 60, 71, 109, 177
 # no Yakamochi, 142
“ ,” 99
patriotism, 23, 77, 107, 121
Peking Opera, 106
People’s Theatre Encouragement of Selec-
tions (Kokumin Engeki   ), 137
postwar exchange rates, 37
postwar incomes and cost of living, 37
Potsdam Declaration, xvii, 12, 46, 47, 59, 67,
68
puppet theatre, 97–98, 113, 129, 155–157,
159–160, 163–164, 166, 168–169,
171, 173–176, 178, 181
rakugo, 133
Ranpei Monogurui (“Ranpei’s Madness”), 64,
168
rationing, 7, 8, 132, 136, 138, 142, 147
Rau, Santha Rama, ix, 49, 79, 80, 87, 89,
106, 116, 127, 154
regional cultural movement (  bunka
), 134
“Regulations for the Control of Theatrical
Production,” 22, 24, 25, 52, 146
Reimei  , 133
Renjishi, 149
Richie, Donald, 79, 162, 185n. 20, 188n. 28
ritual suicide. See seppuku; suicide plays
Rokkasen, 86, 137, 138, 142
  137
Saga Nikki, 144
  Takao, 132
Sakae-ya, 66, 150
Sakanaya
  (Fishmonger ), 61,
136, 144, 169
“Sakaro,” 154, 161
Index 207
“Sakaya,” 137
Sakura Giminden (Cherry Blossoms of Righ-
teousness), 52, 64, 149, 169
Sakura no Sono, 149
Sakura Tai, 148

 19, 151, 170
Sanemori Monogatari, 136, 141, 148
Sanmon Gosan no Kiri (The Temple Gate and
the Paulownia Crest), 64, 170
Sannin Katawa, 149
Sannin Kichisa (Kuruwa no Hatsugai) (The
Three Kichisas, or the New Year’s
First Visit to the Pleasure Quarters),
170, 171
Sasaki Takazuna, 149

 i no Haha, 143
Satomi Ton, 28, 86, 151
“Sato Mura,” 135
Sawamura Genpei VI. See Sawamura
 IX
Sawamura  VII, 100, 112, 139, 149,
151, 152, 154
Sawamura  IX, 136
Sawamura Tanosuke VI, 135
Sawamura  . See Sawamura Tano-
suke VI
SCAP. See Supreme Commander for the
Allied Powers.
Segawa ( III, 158, 169
Seiko (Mrs. Matsumoto  ), 77, 87

   Akogi ga Ura, 140
Senbon Zakura. See Yoshitsune Senbon Zakura
Senda Koreya, 18, 103, 133, 145
“Senjin ,” 138
seppuku, xv, 50, 63, 83, 97, 99, 101, 110,
160, 174, 175. See also suicide plays

  %% ga Tsuji (&& and His
Daughters), 63, 80, 83, 97, 99, 101,
109, 110, 160, 172, 174, 175
Shakespeare, William, 72, 104, 153, 163,
168
Shibaraku (Just a Minute!), 63, 173
Shigeki Tenmokuzan, 140
Shigemitsu Mamoru, 31
Shiki, 142
Shiki
, 140
Shimachidori, 134, 145
shin kabuki, xv, 2, 69, 132, 135, 137, 158
208 Index
Shin Sarayashiki Tsuki no Amagasa (The New
Mansion of Plates and the Rainhat of
the Moon), 169
Shin Tsukiji troupe, 17, 104, 133
Shin Usuyuki Monogatari (New Story of
Usuyuki), 64, 129, 132, 174
Shinbashi $, 25, 27, 66, 97, 131–134,
143–148, 153, 154
  85
Shinei Kabuki troupe, 132
shingeki, 17, 26, 103–105, 132, 133, 145,
148, 149

, 151

 Ten no Amijima (Love Suicides at
Amijima), 18, 152, 163

 Yoi   (Double Suicide on  
Festival Eve), 64, 173
Shinjuku Daiichi  , 85, 148, 152, 153,
185
Shinkei Kasane ga Fuchi (The Murder of
Kasane at the Abyss), 24, 143, 174
shinkokugeki, 50, 59, 95
  troupe, 17, 133
Shinoda Kinji, 158
shinpa, 17, 18, 70, 139, 143, 145, 151, 182n. 1
Shinrei Yaguchi no Watashi (Miracle at Yaguchi
Ferry), 63, 178
Shiobara Tasuke Ichidaiki, 142
shiranami mono. See chivalrous robber plays
Shisen ", 150
Shitadashi
 ( with His Tongue
Stuck Out), 170
    , 25, 145
    Engeki Tai. See   
Traveling Theatre Troupe
   People’s Touring Troupe, 18
   Theatrical Corporation, 21, 27, 51,
54–62, 64–70, 84–85, 87, 98–99, 131–
134, 136, 137, 140, 142–144, 146,
147, 149, 150, 153, 154
   Traveling Theatre Troupe
(    Engeki Tai), 135
  -za, 147
Shunkan, 108, 121, 122, 142, 175

%  141
Shunshoku Ninin  , 135
Shunshoku Satsuma Uta, 150
Shusse    58
Shutsujin no Asa, 134
Shuzenji Monogatari, 132, 136
“Sodehagi Saimon” (Sodehagi’s Ballad), 96,
152, 175
Soga no Taimen, 132, 134, 152
Soganoya  company, 133, 147
Sonezaki
 (The Love Suicides at Sone-
zaki), 18, 175
!  , 132
substitution plays and situations (migawari
), 23, 54, 57, 61, 77, 86, 99,
101, 124, 157, 160, 165, 166, 176
Suga Sensuke, 162, 172
Sugata
 , 58
Sugawara (Denju Tenarai Kagami), 18, 21, 23,
52, 54, 55, 96, 98–100, 108–110, 129,
135, 141, 152, 176, 190
Sui Koden, 58
suicide plays, 4, 14, 18, 50, 59, 63, 97, 99,
126, 147, 152, 157, 160, 162, 163,
167, 168, 171, 173, 175, 176, 179.
See also seppuku; suicide plays
Sukeroku (Yukari no Edo Zakura) (Sukerokue:
Flower of Edo), 24, 60, 71, 72, 86,
120, 136, 151, 154, 177
Sumidagawa Gonichi no Omokage (Latter-day
Reflections of the Sumida River), 158
Suminuri Onna, 140
“ Ba,” 145

 Otoshi, 143
Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers
(SCAP), vii, xii, xv, 12, 30–32, 34, 35,
37, 43, 45, 47, 75, 78, 81, 118, 129,
195
surrender of Japan, xvii, 31, 38, 142
“Sushiya,” 27, 136, 139, 142, 144, 148, 172
Suzugamori (The Suzugamori Execution
Grounds), 63, 109, 137, 138, 177
Tachi Nusubito, 147
tachimawari, 109
tachimiseki, 181n. 1
“Tadanobu no Michiyuki,” 52
Taiheiki (Chronicle of the Great Peace), 18,
182n. 2
   132, 135
Taisei Yokusan Kai. See Imperial Rule Assis-
tance Association
 Index 209

   engeki, 133    Bunka Tai. See   Touring Cul-

Takahashi, Managing Director, 69 tural Troupe
Takao Zange, 132   Producing Corporation, 20, 27, 51, 52,
Takarazuka (City), 25 58, 91, 132, 136, 144, 147
Takarazuka # , 145   Touring Cultural Troupe (  
Takarazuka  , 4, 25, 181 Bunka Tai), 18, 134
Takarazuka Kageki (Takarazuka Music The- Toita Yasuji, 20, 51, 57
atre), 20  Hideki, 146, 148
Takarazuka Kagekidan, 134  no Koi, 153
Takarazuka Revue, 4, 20, 25, 51, 135, 181    Hiza Kurige (A Shank’s Mare Tour
Takarazuka   Kagekidan, 134 of the ), 51, 148, 178
Takarazuka Theatre, 150 Tokimune, 140
Takatoki, 64, 135, 142, 150, 177 tokiwazu, 166
Takayasu , 145 Tokugawa period, vii, 3, 18, 46, 57, 58, 63,
Takeda Izumo I, 55, 157, 176 69, 111, 159, 169, 170, 173
Takeda Izumo II, 160, 171  Bijutsu  (Tokyo School of Fine
Takemoto , 181 Arts [ Geijutsu ; Tokyo
Takemoto %. See Takemoto  School of the Arts]), 154
Takemoto . 98 Tokyo Cooperative Production Society
Takeshiba Kinsaku II, 174 (   ), 132
Takiguchi  no Koi, 69, 70, 150, 187    ( ), 25, 51, 69, 70, 81,
Tamaya, 143 96, 100, 109, 120, 131, 134, 145, 148,
taxes on admission, 25, 138, 142, 145, 146, 149, 150, 151, 152, 153, 154
151–153, 170    . See Tokyo Cooper-
Teikoku   (Imperial Theatre), 25, 27, ative Production Society
51, 52, 131, 133, 139, 145, 149, 150, Tokyo School of Music, 5
152, 185  Shinbun (newspaper), 68, 69, 71, 75,
Teito  , 152 81, 150
Tekikoku * 134 Tokyo Takarazuka  , 25, 27, 145, 149.
 & reforms, 123 See also Takarazuka  
tenugui, 85   , 92, 150, 185
“Terakoya” (The Village School), xi, xiii, 21–    Kabuki-Za, 154
24, 52–58, 63, 79, 86, 89, 95, 96, 99– Tora no O o Fumu Otokotachi (The Men who
102, 107, 113, 126, 135, 137, 140, Tread on the Tiger’s Tail), 83
141, 149, 176, 185n. 20 Torii Kiyotada VIII, 137
Terasawa Takanobu, 21 Torii Matasuke, 141
Theatre and Culture Committee (Engeki Torikaebei, 144
Bunka Iinkai), 153  i , 3, 98, 100, 152
theatre magazines consolidated, 20, 135, 144 Toshihomare no Nokkiri, 145
theatre seats, World War II, 24 touring companies, 18, 19
theatres closed, 145, 146    Kagemoto, 123
Toba-e, 133 Toyokawa City, 154
tobi  %%, 85 translating scripts for CCD, 92, 93
Tochi no Hito, 149 travel dance. See michiyuki
 no Ishibotoke, 138 Tsubouchi Memorial Theatre Museum, 48,
 . See    96
  Engeki Kai, 147 Tsubouchi  , 86
  Gekidan, 143 Tsuchigumo (The Earth Spider), 79, 134, 135
210 Index

Tsukahira Toshio, 9 Yamanba, 137

Tsukiji   , 147 “Yamashina ,” 137, 138, 142, 143
Tsuri Onna, 148 Yamatogana Ariwara Keizu (Japan’s Syllabary
Tsuruya Nanboku IV, 177 and Ariwara’s Genealogy), 64, 168
Tsuuchi Jihei II, 177 “Yamazaki ,” 19
tsuyamono, 18 Yanone, 132
Tsuyu Kosode Mukashi   (Rainy Season Yasuko (Mrs. Onoe  VI), 27
Kimono and Old-time Silks), 162 Yasukuni Jinja   Izokuka Ian Kai.
See Invitational Yasukuni Shrine
& i, 132 Great Festival for Bereaved Family
Ukare  , 132, 138, 143 Condolence Society
Ukiyozuka Hiyoku no Inazuma (Tandem Birds Yasukuni Shrine, 136, 142, 144
and Lightning on a Sword Hilt of the Yasuna, 139, 144, 150, 179
Floating World), 177 Yonai Mitsumasa, 6
Umeda Eiga  , 25, 145, 146 Yoneyama Kazuo, 37, 91–93, 100, 110
Umegawa    168   Shiji, 140
Umezu  , 31 Yoshida Isoya, 154
University of Hawai‘i, 81, 91 Yoshida Matsuji, 59
Uno Nobuo, 86, 132, 135, 139, 140, 142, Yoshimoto Producing Corporation, 18, 52,
144 58
Utsubo Zaru, 145 Yoshimoto Touring Theatre Troupe, 18
Yoshitsune   . See Goto

Vaccari, Mrs. Enko Elisa, 60, 62, 63, 66, 67 Yoshitsune Senbon Zakura (Yoshitsune and the
vendettas. See kabuki, revenge themes Thousand Cherry Trees), 18, 27, 52,
55, 63, 64, 129, 134, 136, 138, 139,
wagoto, 74, 152 141, 142, 148, 149, 152, 153, 171
Wakiya Mitsunobu, 59 Youchi Soga Kariba no Akebono, 140
Wanya'  , 140 Yowa Nasake Ukina no Yokogushi (A Haircomb
Waseda University, 48, 82, 110, 129, 130, Aslant in a Rumored Story of Love),
153 158
Yuki no Akebono Homare no Akagaki, 147
, 5 (   Henge, 58
Yaguchi no Watashi. See Shinrei Yaguchi no Yuraku-za, 25, 27, 51
Watashi -za, 145, 149
Yahei, 142
Yaji Kita, 58 zagashira, 2
yamabushi, 162 zankoku no bi. See aesthetic of cruelty
Yamagishi , 147 Zeami, 141
Yamakawa Shizuo, 19 Zeneien, 152
Yamamoto Gensui, 143 Zenshin-za, 136, 137, 143, 144, 149, 153
Yamamura-za, 158
About the Author and Translator

Okamoto Shiro was born in 1946 and graduated from the Department of
Jurisprudence at Waseda University, Tokyo. He spent most of his career as
a journalist for the Mainichi Shinbun and is now a freelance writer. His earlier
books include a biography of chess player Sakata Sankichi.

Samuel L. Leiter holds a doctorate in dramatic art from New York Univer-
sity. He is currently head of the graduate program of the Department of
Theatre, Brooklyn College, City University of New York, and faculty member
of the Ph.D. program, City University of New York. Among his numerous
publications on American theatre, international stage directors, and Japa-
nese theatre, are fourteen books, such as The Art of Kabuki: Famous Plays in
Performance (1979; rev. ed. 2000), New Kabuki Encyclopedia (1997), Japanese
Theatre in the World (1997), and Zeami and the N
Theatre in the World (with
B. Ortolani, 1998). Founding editor Asian Theatre Bulletin, he is editor of Asian
Theatre Journal (1992 to present), and editorial-board member of Theatre
Symposium.

211