Backstage at Kabuki: The Luckiest Americans in Japan

Yup, that's the Ancient Mariner and me with Kataoka Takataro, backstage at Tokyo's Shimbashi Enbujo Theatre. We had an unforgettable afternoon watching Kabuki from fabulous fifth row seats with our friends, Hiroko-san and Otsuka-san. Their friend Takataro is starring in the first of the three plays on the afternoon program this month (plus two of the three evening plays) so they made arrangements for us to visit his dressing room after watching him perform in the two-act historical drama Yoritomo no Shi (Yoritomo's Death).

The Ancient Mariner might have been the only member of our quartet who wasn't a little giddy with nervousness when Takataro's congenial young assistant escorted us out the front door of the theater to the stage entrance where we traded our shoes for slippers before padding down a narrow corridor skirting the stage. I snuck a sideways peek at the stage but resisted the impulse to dance across it out of respect for our hosts.  Go, me.

Entering the dressing room we stepped up onto a tatami mat. (Writing this, I find myself wondering if we were supposed to doff the slippers at that juncture. Did everyone else?  Drat. I was so preoccupied with expanding my Kabuki knowledge last night that I forgot to brush up on tatami etiquette.)

Takataro made us feel genuinely welcome. His deep voice and general masculine aura surprised me since he specializes in female roles (onnagata). He invited us to sit beside him on the mat and mentioned that he had wanted to be a Top Gun jet pilot when he was a little boy. He has a name badge featuring the crossed flags of Japan and the United States.

Takataro in his dressing room

We returned to our seats just in time to see the second play, a one-act historical drama extracted from a longer play originally written for the Bunraku puppet theater. This play was first performed in 1730 so it was about as easy to follow as an unannotated Shakespeare play, although the Ancient Mariner and I had a very helpful lady whispering carefully timed insights into our ears thanks to the complimentary English Language Guides Takataro's assistant provided to us when we arrived at the theater. How nice was that? We had every intention of renting headsets, of course, but were truly humbled by Takataro's hospitality as well as the Otsukas'. How can we begin to return these extravagant favors? What's a gaijin to do?

The last performance of the day was incredible, and not just because we had already visited Takataro's dressing room. Renjishi is a dance number based on an old Chinese legend depicting a parent lion teaching its cub survival skills by pushing it off a cliff. Takataro's father, Kataoka Nizaemon (67), was the father lion and Takataro's son, Kataoka Sennosuke (11), was the lion cub. That old chestnut "not a dry eye in the house" sums up the audience's reaction to this historical, exuberant, athletic performance by Nizaemon XV and his young grandson. According to Otsuka-san, it was Sennosuke's idea to perform with his grandfather and he willing gave up a sixth grade class trip to spend the month of June metaphorically falling off a cliff.

Surely he will never forget performing with his grandfather. I can't imagine anyone in that audience today will soon forget the experience either. I know I won't.