The Uzawa Noh Troupe traveled from Tokyo, Japan to give a performance of Lady Aoi on Tuesday in Warner Main. In addition, the troupe conducted two workshops on Monday: a movement workshop in Warner Main and a music workshop in the Conservatory.

Noh, meaning “accomplishment” or “perfected art,” is regarded as classical Japanese dance and theater. A fusion of dance, music and theater, it embodies the quality of yûgen, which translates roughly to “graceful imagery” or “perfected beauty.”

Uzawa Hisa, the troupe’s leader who performs the Shite roles, or the main masked roles, is part of the first generation of female performers of Noh to be recognized as professionals. On occasion, the Tsure will also wear a mask, as was the case in Lady Aoi.

As is customary with the Japanese arts, Uzawa follows in the footsteps of her father Uzawa Masashi by studying Noh. In 2004, Japan honored her with the distinction of a Living National Treasure.

The story of Lady Aoi comes from the 11th century Japanese classic The Tale of Genji. The pregnant wife of Shining Prince Hikaru Genji lies ailing at the edge of the stage, represented by a folded kimono. A masked shaman calls forth the spirit within her and the woman who appears reveals herself to be the spirit of the Lady Rokujo, another one of Genji’s wives, jealous of Genji’s favoritism for Lady Aoi.

A Buddhist priest comes to exorcise the spirit of Lady Rokujo who, wallowing in her envy, has become a demon spirit armed with a wand of evil. Uzawa, performing the role of the spirit, changes masks to a sinister horned hannya mask to show this change of heart.

This mask did not inhibit the actor’s expression, however. Uzawa was particularly adept at making her mask appear to have many expressions by the angle at which she displayed it and the expression in her movement.

The stage was made up of a square performance space with two longer sides where the chorus and musicians sat. A bridge between the backstage area and the stage also served to symbolize the bridge between the otherworld (backstage) and the small portion of reality where it is possible for spirits to come to life.

When Lady Rokujo’s spirit first emerges, she takes an extremely long time to cross this bridge; she takes small, slow steps, stopping to lift her hand to her brow, crying.

The music sounds sparse to the symphonically-trained Western ear. The singing emerges through the sinuses and sounds a bit like an opera singer’s. Ballet, opera and all of the classical Western performance forms are equally stylized.

Similarly, Noh movement is extremely stylized. During the movement workshop, Uzawa and her daughter, Uzawa Hikaru, adjusted everyone’s posture so that the shoulders were rolled back, the hands only tilted forward from beneath the elbow and the pelvis tilted back to limit the performer’s step length. Every motion is deliberate and manipulates the performer’s energy which is gathered deep within the core of the pelvis.

Modern Butoh Style Influenced by German and American Dance

A cool spot of light rested upstage right as the ambient music surrounded us. We studied the light, the only object we were given to watch. Slowly, a shadow crept along the wall, illuminated by the backstage light.

Finally, a figure emerged from beyond the curtain, draped in white fabric, bent over with one palm held out in front of her, a ghost in ethereal light. Above her head a small shape shivered in sharp contrast to her intoxicatingly slow steps. As the sun rose upon the stage the shape became clear; it was a plastic flower.

This piece, excerpts of which were performed by Kayo Mikami, whose husband, Yukio Mikami, founded the Torifune Butoh Sha, reflects on the moment when one brings a flower to a funeral for the deceased.

Nearly 50 people gathered in Warner Main Space last Thursday for a lecture and demonstration on Butoh dance. An equally impressive number attended her workshop last weekend.

Mikami holds a Ph.D. from Kyoto Seika University and has written many disciplinary papers on the subject of Butoh dance.

The first excerpt Mikami performed was slow and expressive. She began with an intently vacant expression that changed to suit what she was trying to emote. Other Butoh pieces require much more mobility in the face, but her haunted expression suited the mood of the piece.

Though Mikami’s costumes seemed to be variations on the traditional kimono, including makeup to whiten her skin like a kabuki dancer, her movements diverged greatly from traditional ones and were at times very unrestrained. Despite the occasional wild rapidity in her arms during her performance, she said that the piece she showed was choreographed in its entirety and that she did not improvise once.

Although Butoh dance is classified outside of Japan as being a classical art form, many people in Japan do not know about Butoh; in fact, many Japanese do not encounter it until they have left the country. It is an art form that finds the least of its influences in traditional Japanese dance, drawing instead mostly from Neue Tanz, German expressionist dance, as well as improvisation stemming from American modern dance.

Many of the principles of modern dance, such as the desire for a dance that is more connected to the earth, are also present in Butoh. But Butoh is more Gothic than other modern dance styles; most dances portray or express some emotion regarding death. It focuses on the body and how the body can only accept what is done to it. The religious aspects that are now associated with Butoh dance emerged later, after the dance had been developed as a method of expressing what was taboo for performance in Japan.

But Butoh is no longer a hidden treasure that only foreigners know about: artists are being recognized for their work. One interesting characteristic is that Butoh artists on the whole take pride in being misunderstood.

“Had it been offered to me, I would not have accepted it,” Mikami said. Then, smiling, she amended, “Well, maybe for the money.”