Louise Levene

The joy of kabuki

You can now experience the exquisite artistry of Japan’s most popular theatrical tradition at home

Nakamura Ganjirо IV as Tokubei and right, Ganjiro’s father Sakata Tojuro IV as Ohatsu in ‘The Love Suicides at Sonezaki’ at Kabuki-za Theatre in 2009. © SHOCHIKU 
issue 08 July 2023

It’s a long climb up the 1,368 steps to the Shinto shrine at Kotohira. Many of the pilgrims are making comfort stops at the countless teahouses that line the route, but other worshippers break their journey at Kanamaru-za, the oldest surviving kabuki theatre in Japan.

A middle-aged man in Barbara Cartland war paint, heavy black wig and kimono ought to be ridiculous

Kabuki, with its vivid stock characters, juicy plots and sumptuous costumes, has always been the most popular and accessible of the Japanese theatrical traditions. In the early 17th century performances featured both sexes, but in 1629 the ruling shogunate decreed that actresses (many of them prostitutes) were a danger to public morals and the art form became – and remained – an all-male preserve. A middle-aged man in Barbara Cartland war paint, heavy black wig and lavender kimono ought to be ridiculous but the kabuki heroine is a magical creature and a great onnagata (a male actor playing a female role) will transcend the conventions and carry you away to the floating world.

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