Jan Bardsley

Professor Emerita, Asian and Middle Eastern Studies, UNC Chapel Hill

Tag: geisha (Page 2 of 3)

Dance in The Kimono Tattoo: An Interview with Rebecca Copeland

June 3, 2021 / / 10 Comments

The Kimono Tattoo, 2021.

The Kimono Tattoo, a fast-paced mystery set in Kyoto, follows American translator Ruth Bennett on her dangerous quest for the truth. Ruth’s expertise in kimono history and fluency in Japanese give her the tools. Her intrepid friends take risks to help. Amid the chaos, Ruth’s practice of Nihon buyō (Japanese dance) steadies her.

As we explored in our last blog, The Kimono Tattoo gives insight into the practice of Nihon buyō by its teachers and students.

 

Meet Rebecca Copeland

Today’s blog features a special treat. We get to catch up with the author, Rebecca Copeland.    Renown for her expertise in modern Japanese women’s literature, Rebecca has studied dance in Japan, too.  Our interview explores how her experiences learning Nihon buyō shaped the dance scenes in The Kimono Tattoo.

You can also hear Rebecca’s podcast on The Kimono Tattoo. It’s on the popular channel, Japan Station: A Podcast About Japan by JapanKyo.com

The fun of taking first steps in Nihon buyō

JB:  Great to talk with you today, Rebecca.  Let’s start with your first experiences of Japanese dance.

In your blog post on dance, you recount taking your first steps in dance in 1976 at age nineteen. You describe the fun of staying “for tea, sweets, and gossip” after the lesson.  Much later, rather like Ruth, you took Nihon buyō lessons as an adult in Kyoto.  But what were those first lessons like?

RC:  Thanks, Jan.  I first began studying Japanese dance when I was a college student in Japan. A young woman about my age offered to teach dance to the foreigners where she lived in Fukuoka.  At the time I did not know how extraordinary this was.  I’ve since learned how difficult it is to acquire the credentials and more importantly the permission to teach a traditional art.  But since this young woman was only providing foreigners with a form of “art appreciation,” her sensei thought it would be okay. After all, no one expected any of us to pursue dance seriously.

What stands out about these early dance lessons? What did you learn?

RC:  For me, it was much more than “art appreciation,” and even much more than dance.  I learned basic forms of etiquette.  I learned different ways to understand grace and elegance. I learned how to dress myself in a kimono and how to fold and store the kimono after use.

Even though my sensei knew I would never excel at the form, she still pursued her teaching with serious intention.  She was proud of her art.  It meant so much to her.  Clearly, it wasn’t just a hobby or a weekend exercise. It was a way of life. Her investment in her art touched me deeply. This experience, along with others I had that year in Fukuoka, influenced me to continue my study of Japan.

Now I see why Ruth Bennett knows so much about kimono. What about your later dance lessons as an adult?

In the mid-2000s, I lived for a year in Kyoto. I taught at what was then the Kyoto Center for Japanese Studies (a consortium of American universities). The students in my program were given the opportunity to study Japanese dance, but none of them did.  I asked the organizers if I could.

The class was offered by Nishikawa Senrei Sensei, of the Nishikawa School of Dance.  All the other students in the class were about the age I was when I first began studying dance in Fukuoka.

We began our studies with the same dance I had learned when I was 19, “Sakura, sakura.”  But because in Fukuoka I had trained in the Hanayagi-style, the movements were different.

That must have been frustrating. Like Ruth Bennett, you had to start all over again.

Yes, I do remember feeling very frustrated at first.  I knew I should know this.  But everything was new to me, and I felt so disoriented.

Actually, it had been that way from the start.  As soon as I arrived in Kyoto, I felt dislocated.  I was used to Tokyo. After that year in Fukuoka, my next visits to Japan had all been in Tokyo.  I had lived there off and on for close to ten years.  Kyoto was so different.  I found it hard to get around as I was unfamiliar with the bus system (in Tokyo I almost always took trains.)  Everything was different.

On top of that, I was in a class with quick young women who immediately picked up the dance movements.  I was always the one lagging behind.  But Senrei Sensei was very kind to me.    After class I would often linger and talk with her about literature.  That’s when I learned that sensei also choreographed new, original dances.  She performed one that year based on the French sculptor Camille Claudel.  Another dance of hers retold the famous Meiji-era story of Mori Ogai’s “Dancing Girl” (Maihime).

Senrei Sensei was incredibly talented. She invested her time teaching foreigners out of a spirit of generosity and passion, not unlike that of my first dance teacher.

Senrei Sensei must have been quite a talented artist in her own right.

Senrei Sensei

Absolutely. Senrei Sensei managed her own studio, curated her own recitals, choreographed her own dances, and traveled the world.  She was grounded in traditional Japanese arts and amazingly independent and fierce. Jonah Salz published a wonderful essay about Senrei Sensei in Kyoto Journal.

She was a strict teacher.  A sharp glance from her would be enough to make me wilt with embarrassment and regret.  But she was also patient and understanding.  I would be so honored to share The Kimono Tattoo with her, but she tragically died several years ago.

Such rich experiences! How did these help you craft the dance scenes in The Kimono Tattoo?

Admittedly, the dance teacher is loosely modeled on Senrei Sensei. She taught me so much about Kyoto and kimono.  She also taught me about art and about finding the source of art in yourself.

As I noted, I wasn’t very quick to pick up the steps and I often felt like a drag on the class. As we prepared for our recital, I was amazed by how smooth the young women in the class were.  They had no problem remembering all the steps.

Later, after one class when we were putting away our kimono, one of the students told me that they watched videos of earlier performances. They received them from previous students.  Aha! I could certainly use that help. I wanted to see those videos and practice at home with them, too.

Rebecca Copeland dancing Shizuka Gozen.

When I mentioned borrowing a video to Sensei,  she grew visibly irritated.  “Art is not about perfecting form!” she snapped.  “It’s not just about memorizing.  You have to feel it in your heart.”  Then and there, she forbade all of us from studying the videos.  She told me to listen to the music at home.  “Feel the music,” she said as she thumped my breast.  “Feel it here.”  So, I tried that.  I was never as smooth as the other students, but Sensei complimented me for having the right spirit. I think Ruth and her sensei share a similar relationship. Ruth isn’t perfect but she is keen to appreciate the spirit of the dance.

Looking back on these dance lessons, what did you take away from the Sensei’s guidance?

Strangely, I think her lessons helped me in other aspects of my life as well. I stopped worrying so much about making mistakes and getting facts wrong in my own lectures and classes.  My classes became better as a result.  And, perhaps it is this awareness of following the heart, trusting the heart, that gave me the courage to try my hand at a novel.

Do you have more in store for these characters?

Rebecca, I enjoyed the lively cast of characters in The Kimono Tattoo. My favorite is Ruth’s pal Maho, who wears a Mohawk.  And, of course, one gets attached to Ruth Bennett, who can’t pull away from signs of danger.  What’s next for them?

Thanks, Jan.  You know, it took so long to complete The Kimono Tattoo–almost ten years.  I started it in 2012, and I could only work on it during the summers.  That means that I have lived with Ruth and Maho for a long time.  They continue to visit me, especially when I return to Japan.  Ruth will walk alongside me and make comments.  I don’t think I’ve seen the last of her.

Will the next mystery take place in Kyoto, too?

Sarasa Nishijin Cafe. Posted to Matcha, 2016. https://matcha-jp.com/en/1224

Yes. A few years ago I started another Ruth Bennett story.  This one is set in the Nishijin area of Kyoto. It features the sumptuous brocade for which Kyoto is famous.

Fragment of Noh theater robe produced in Nishijin district. . Freer Gallery. Wikimedia Commons.

 

 

 

 

Nishijin brocades are exquisite.  But like so many works of art that rely on human labor, the people who enjoy the brocades and the people who labor to produce them live very different kinds of lives.  In earlier times weavers often lived subsistence lives and were exploited for their labor.  This kind of dichotomy, the bright side versus the darker underside, as in The Kimono Tattoo, fascinates me.  I want to see what happens when Ruth spends time with this art form.  Sadly, people will die.  And Ruth will find herself once more in the thick of things.

After this novel I would like to send Ruth on the road.  She’ll spend time in Fukuoka and perhaps Nagasaki exploring the traditional arts there and trying to stay out of trouble.  Nagasaki is a particularly interesting city with its different layers of cultural histories: Japanese, Chinese, Dutch, British, American, and more.

Thanks to Rebecca Copeland

Following Ruth Bennett to Kyushu will be an adventure for sure. And I look forward to learning more about Nishijin in her next Kyoto mystery.

Thanks for sharing your experiences with Japanese dance and photos, Rebecca. This gives me renewed appreciation for the evocative dance scenes in The Kimono Tattoo and Ruth’s brilliant sensei.

I highly recommend The Kimono Tattoo.   “Silks unravels. A tattoo is forever. Layer by layer the truth is revealed.”  And you can stay up all night watching the layers fall away.

Jan Bardsley, “Dance in The Kimono Tattoo: Interview with Author Rebecca Copeland.” janbardsley. web.unc.edu  June 3, 2021.

Maiko dancing
Maiko performing in Gion. Jon Rawlinson, 2007. Wikimedia Commons.

Dance, Mystery, and Murder in The Kimono Tattoo

May 27, 2021 / / 5 Comments

As Kyoto’s “dancing girl,” the maiko devotes herself to Nihon buyō (literally, Japanese dance).

But how do others learn this dance form?  What does it feel like to try?  A riveting new murder mystery by Rebecca Copeland gives us clues.

Today’s post takes up Copeland’s debut novel, The Kimono Tattoo.  We zoom into the mystery’s dance scenes, finding experiences much like those recounted by maiko and geiko.

From intriguing translation work to puzzling murder, Ruth Bennett is on the trail

But first, what’s the novel about?

Photo by Sravan V on Unsplash,2019.

A fast-paced mystery,  The Kimono Tattoo transports us to Kyoto. We wander into its famous temples, little known alleys, and even its zoo. Before we know it, we’re entangled in a shadowy web of beauty and deception.

We follow Ruth Bennett, a tall, red-haired American who parlays her fluency in Japanese into routine translation work. An avid runner, reader, and consumer of cheap Japanese take-out foods, Ruth works hard to maintain a low-key life. She wants to dull the pain of her past: a failed academic career in Japanese literature, divorce, and a haunting event in her youth.

 

Woman red hair looking at sky. Tyler McRobert.Unsplash. 2016.

 

The mystery begins when Ruth cannot resist accepting a surprising offer.  A stranger asks her to translate a new novel by a long-forgotten writer.  That choice leads Ruth into all kinds of intrigue. She uncovers kimono secrets, family feuds, and ultimately fatal tattoo designs. Her life becomes anything but low key.

 

Once I started The Kimono Tattoo, I couldn’t put it down. I felt like I was back in Kyoto. I enjoyed the plot’s twists and turns. The characters really come alive.  And Ruth’s own connections to her past in Japan become one of its driving forces. Her love of Japanese dance stood out to me.

The American teen finds her way in life through dance and kimono

We learn early on that Ruth is a student of Nihon buyō. This interest develops Ruth’s  difficult past and her intimate connections to Japanese arts and kimono. Surprisingly, we find parallels to the maiko’s experience.

As a troubled fifteen-year-old stuck at a boarding school in Kobe, Ruth came to Nihon buyō at the suggestion of her Japanese language teacher. Taking up dance led Ruth to the kimono. She began regularly wearing kimono to her lessons, learning all the conventions. The entire experience was life changing.  Ruth remembers, “I felt as if I had found something that belonged to me” (198).

Iwasaki Mineko in Moscow, 2008. Photo by Sergey Korneev. Wikimedia Commons.

Interestingly, Ruth’s sense of dance as a powerful channel for youthful angst mirrors comments by Iwasaki Mineko in Geisha, A Life. As a young girl newly living in an okiya in the 1950s, Iwasaki felt that, “dance was an apt vehicle for my determination and pride. I still missed my parents terribly and dance became an outlet for my pent-up emotional energy” (88).

Seeking solace as an adult, Ruth turns again to Nihon buyō and kimono artistry

Back in Japan after a divorce, Ruth takes weekly dance lessons in Kyoto. She puts together her kimono ensemble for each lesson with care. We learn how she selects just the right kimono from her collection to fit the occasion and express her mood. She knows kimono history and customs well.

As Ruth describes to a famous kimono designer, “The way the kimono is worn with an obi and other accessories tells me about the wearer’s taste, mood, or sense of daring” (203).  Here, too, Ruth’s knowledge recalls Iwasaki Mineko and other geiko who describe their acute awareness of kimono customs, developed over many years.

Ruth’s Kyoto dance lessons

We never learn the name of Ruth’s dance teacher.

Japanese traditional dancer, 2004. Posted to Wikimedia Commons by Rdsmith4.

The sensei remains an enigmatic dancer–a brilliant artist and a demanding instructor.  As Ruth says, “Nihon buyō teachers were particularly strict, and mine was no exception” (51).  She does not suffer slackers.   And she expects her students to prepare for their lessons and always come on time.

Maiko and geiko similarly remember the strictness of dance lessons. As Komomo explains in A Geisha’s Journey, “there were lots of rules to be followed at dance practice” (35). In her case, however, it was her strict elder sisters that scared her most at dance lessons.

Maiko inevitably make mistakes in their dance lessons, and Ruth slips up sometimes, too.  She forgets her fan or music cassette. But, like maiko, she tries hard to please her teacher.

Through Ruth’s example, we learn dance lesson protocols. We see the greetings, the obligations, the importance of observing other students, and the sensei’s frequent corrections.  We also get a glimpse of Ruth’s experience of dancing. Despite her early training, Ruth confesses that she has no “muscle memory” as an adult. “I felt like I had to start over from the very beginning” (53).

The teacher’s own dancing entrances Ruth. “She moved her hands lithely through the air, delicate but strong” (56). 

Ruth sometimes has lapses in concentration, much to her teacher’s dismay. Of course, Ruth is involved in a murder mystery and that can be distracting.

The Perfect Summer Mystery

The Kimono Tattoo, 2021.

I highly recommend The Kimono Tattoo.  Bringing to life a host of loveable characters (and some evil ones), The Kimono Tattoo weaves a compelling tale of beauty, love, greed, and revenge. It’s easy to visualize. Japanese dance, kimono, lore, and literature all contribute to the richness of its fabric.

Coming next:  An Interview with Rebecca Copeland

How did the author’s own experiences shape the dance scenes in The Kimono Tattoo?  What did she learn by studying Nihon buyō?  Who were her teachers?  In our next post, we sit down with Rebecca Copeland to get the answers.

 

 

 

 

References

Rebecca Copeland, The Kimono Tattoo. Brother Mockingbird, 2021.

Mineko Iwasaki and Rande Brown. Geisha, A Life. Atria, 2002.

Komomo and Naoyuki Ogino. A Geisha’s Journey: My Life as a Kyoto Apprentice. Kodansha International, 2008.

Jan Bardsley, “Dance, Mystery, and Murder in The Kimono Tattoo.” janbardsley. web.unc.edu  May 27, 2021.

A bad laundry day for the trainee. Iwashita Takehito, Gion no hosomichi: Otonbo maiko [The narrow road to Gion:The youngest child becomes a maiko] (Tokyo: Bungei Shobō, 2009), 54.

Maiko Stories: Hidden Laundry Spaces

May 19, 2021 / / 4 Comments

The friendly sight of clothes hanging on the line

“Seeing laundry hanging outside on the line.” The young Japanese student responded with a smile.  We were talking about signs of home and comfort. Studying in the U.S., he missed this common sight of everyday life in his neighborhood in Japan. Scenes  like this one captured in the photo below of an Osaka home convey hominess to many Japanese.

I confess that when I first came to Tokyo in 1971, the sight of clothes hanging outside tall apartment buildings startled me.  Growing up in a small suburb in southern California, I had become accustomed to dryers. Clotheslines were something from my childhood in the 1950s. Laundry was pretty invisible.

Laundry on the line in Osaka. m-louis .® from Osaka, Japan, 2019.  Wikimedia Commons.

But, when we lived in Tokyo in 2018-19, we regularly hung wash out to dry on the small veranda outside our first-floor apartment. A large green hedge hid all but the tops of it. As you walked by our several-story building, you could see lots of laundry wafting in the breeze on the verandas.  Helpfully, the morning weather report advised whether the day looked good for drying the wash outside.

What about laundry customs in Kyoto’s geisha neighborhoods (hanamachi)? As we explore in this post, evidence of this ordinary chore remains out of sight in these refined neighborhoods. Little wonder that this invisibility gives way to stories about hidden spaces and confessions of washing machine mishaps. All these accounts turn our attention to the difference between the front and back stages of the hanamachi.

Laundry in everyday Pontochō, 1954

“Washing is hung out over one of the [alleys] of Pontochō.” Perkins, Percival Densmore. Geisha of Pontocho. Photos. Tokyo News Service, 1954.

Let’s start with a view from decades past. This sight of laundry signaled everyday life that one photographer sought to document in 1954. This photo by Francis Haar shows laundry hanging high above one of the narrow alleys in the Pontochō hanamachi.   The darkness of the alley and the height of the lines nearly conceal the laundry from view. Many of Haar’s photos and the text by P.D. Perkins capture daily life in the hanamachi. They give a sense of how arts teachers, craftspeople, shopkeepers, and others interacted with geiko, maiko, and their mothers in the 1950s.

Hanging clothes on the okiya’s hidden veranda today

Today, the teahouses and okiya of Kyoto’s hanamachi still convey a quiet, elegant charm, like this Gion dwelling photographed here.  So, where does the laundry hang?

Façade of dwelling in Shinbashi, Gion, Kyoto. Photo by Basile Morin. June 2019. Wikimedia Commons.

Aiko Koyama’s manga Kiyo in Kyoto gives her readers a look behind the scenes. She takes us past the task of doing the wash to the aesthetics of the hanamachi and its hidden conversations.

Trainee Riko on the okiya veranda. Maiko-san-chi-no Makanai-san, 2017. Koyama Aiko. Vol. 6, Epi. 59,p. 78.

 

 

Here, we see shikomi trainee Riko hanging up laundry on her okiya veranda. She gazes at other, nearly adjacent okiya verandas. She sees the okiya helpers hanging the laundry, too. Riko overhears them talking excitedly about a new maiko. The hidden verandas make an excellent space for gossip.

 

 

Maiko-san-chi-no Makanai-san, 2017. Aiko Koyama manga. Vol. 6, Epi. 59, p. 78.

In the next frame, the narrator explains how the neighborhood preserves its elegant façade by hanging laundry on these verandas behind the buildings.

We see tourists eager to pose for photos in front of the beautiful okiya. Hiding the laundry keeps evidence of ordinary, everyday life at bay.  This frame also makes the point that the hanamachi does not aim to convey hominess, but the air of a world apart.

A private space for confidential chats

Twins Nozomi (maiko Yumehana) and Megumi. https://www.pref.shimane.lg.jp/admin/seisaku/koho/photo/172/4.html

The hidden veranda creates a private space, too, for  the maiko Yumehana in NHK-TV drama Dandan (2008-09). She retreats to the veranda for more than hanging laundry. This is a space for secret phone calls, for private chats with her twin sister, and to reflect on her future.  Notably, we never see the dignified matriarch of this okiya/teahouse on the veranda.  She does not do housework.

The would-be maiko learns laundry skills

Moving from the veranda to the space of the washing machine takes us to the humorous confessions of a shikomi trainee. Her name is Maiko, though written with different characters than “apprentice geisha.” The “baby of her family” and the last of five sisters, Maiko knew nothing about housework until coming to the okiya.

Maiko describes how doing chores around the okiya can challenge the brand new shikomi.  She explains how the trainee assists her elder geiko and maiko sisters with their kimono, runs errands for her mother, and often helps with cleaning.

A bad laundry day for the trainee. Iwashita Takehito, Gion no hosomichi: Otonbo maiko [The narrow road to Gion: The youngest child becomes a maiko] (Tokyo: Bungei Shobō, 2009), 54.

Maiko was new to washing machines. She also didn’t know how to separate colors, once turning everything pink by mixing red and white things together.  Nor did she know how to separate different articles by their material. This comic shows how Maiko learned the hard way: Too much soap led to bubbles bursting out the machine. (Exaggerated here for comic effect).

Luckily, Maiko seems to have learned laundry skills well by the time she debuted as a maiko. But, at this point, she turned her attention full-time to maiko arts lessons, teahouse parties, and Kyoto booster events.  No more need to think about washing machines!

The laundry space in maiko stories

As we see, maiko stories highlight the okiya laundry space as a site of ordinary life, hijinks, and high drama–all unseen from the street.  The mystique of the hanamachi façade piques curiosity about what happens within the refined dwellings, giving rise to all kinds of stories of backstage life.

Having finished this post, I can go hang the laundry outside on a sunny day in North Carolina. Feels pretty homey here, too.

References

Iwashita Takehito. Gion no hosomichi: Otonbo maiko [The narrow road to Gion: The youngest child becomes a maiko] Tokyo: Bungei Shobō, 2009, 54.

Koyama Aiko. Maiko-san-chi no Makanai-san. Serialized manga. Volume 6. Episode 59. Shōgakukan, 2017.  For its new online anime adaptation, NHK World translates the manga title as Kiyo in Kyoto: From the Maiko House.

Perkins, Percival Densmore. Photographs by Francis Haar. Geisha of Pontocho. Tokyo News Service, 1954.

Jan Bardsley, “Maiko Stories: Hidden Laundry Spaces,” janbardsley.web.unc.edu, May 19, 2021.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maiko Ippitsu-sen.　Amazon.co.jp May 11, 2021

Maiko Greetings with “Stroke of a Pen” Notes

May 13, 2021 / / 2 Comments

Which pretty notepad will the maiko choose?

Maiko Momohana decides on the most appropriate ippitsu-sen. Maiko-san-chi no Makanai-san. Epi.32, Vol. 4. (2017).

Momohana, the star maiko of Koyama Aiko’s girls comic Kiyo in Kyoto: From the Maiko House, gazes at two long, narrow notepads.  Both pretty options!  Which to choose?

Koyama depicts Momohana browsing in a shop brimming with fans, maiko hair ornaments, and stationery. Her fictional shop closely resembles the lively Gion store, Yamakyo.　Established in the Taisho era (1912-26) as a specialty paper store, Yamakyo began selling Japanese-style paper products and other items for maiko, geiko, and Kabuki actors in early Showa (1926-89). If you click the link to Yamakyo, you can see that it still sells many paper products, including the narrow notepads like Momohana holds.

Gion shop, Yamakyo. Gion Shopping Street Promotion Associates Website. https://www.gion.or.jp

After making her purchase, Momohana takes off on her afternoon round of greetings to the teahouses in her hanamachi. The notepads will come in handy, as we later learn.

Greeting the okami-san with a short note

Momohana’s greeting.  Epi. 32, Vol.4. (2017)

Finding one okami-san (manager) away from her teahouse, Momohana pulls out one of her trusty new notepads. She pens a short note and leaves it with a housekeeper to pass on. The notepad cover is marked 一筆箋 (ippitsu-sen), a “slip of paper for one stroke of the pen.”  Sometimes translated simply as “one slip notes.”

 

 

What are ippitsu-sen? How are they used?

Ippitsu-sen perfect for spring. Brand: MIDORI. amazon.co.jp April 2021.

A little research produced some interesting answers.

Maiko are not the only ones who use ippitsu-sen.  They are a common paper for short notes at work and among friends and family.  These notes may be plain, business-like and efficient or warm and funny.  Books published in Japanese guide readers to all kinds of ways to use ippitsu-sen.  Since I had long been curious about these pretty notepads, using them merely for to-do lists and phone messages, I was eager to learn more.

Lovely Manners and Words for One-Slip Notes for Every Occasion. Author, Murakami Kazuko. PHP, 2015.

To find out about ippitsu-sen, I turned to the colorful guide authored by Kazuko Murakami, Lovely Manners and Words for One-Slip Notes. This is one in her series of manuals directed to women readers offering advice “which you can use your entire life.”

Murakami champions the warmth of the handwritten note—the human touch—amid the ubiquity of electronic communication in email, texts, and social media platforms. She advises that even a short note will touch the person who receives it, inspiring “goodwill and trust.” Murakami recommends using these short notes to boost one’s communication skills and self-confidence.

Getting started with ippitsu-sen: Choose your favorite design

Sakura and Japanese candy design. https://minne.com/items/26153939. May 11, 2021

Murakami introduces several types of ippitsu-sen: designs variously associated with the season, good luck symbols, locale, or a current topic. Other designs might reflect your own hobbies, work, or even your name. You can add personal flair (jibun rashisa) by adding stickers and using inked, wooden stamps (hanko).  Although choosing a design with the recipient in mind can be lots of fun,  Murakami advises that it’s fine to choose plain paper, too. Selecting a pale pink or blue may seem softer and friendlier than white.

Do you write vertically or horizontally?

You can write Japanese vertically (top to bottom, right to left) and horizontally (left to right, as in English). How about when writing ippitsu-sen?

Murakami  advises  readers that either way is fine, but writing vertically will seem more business-like and official. In Momohana’s case, we see that she writes vertically in her ippitsu-sen for her elder, the okami-san. Her casual mini-card to her pal Kiyo shows the horizontal style. Similarly, Murakami’s models for all the formal ippitsu-sen in her book, and all written to people older or in positions of some importance are written vertically. The model informal notes to children and husband use the horizontal format. [In the gendered universe of stationery, I did find some sites aimed at men as potential ippitsu-sen users, including one that shows how to use ippitsu-sen for a thank-you note in English].

Did Momohana’s ippitsu-sen appeal?

This ippitsu-sen notepad features cats.amazon.co.jp

Momohana’s ippitsu-sen was a success.  Later in the chapter, we see the elderly okami-san who had received the note calling that evening at Momohana’s okiya. Apologizing for being out earlier, she holds up Momohana’s note.

She exclaims how delighted she was with the black cat on the stationery–it’s just like her own cat.  The okami-san thanks Momohana for choosing such a thoughtful, personal design (p. 24). (Momohana’s surprised look makes me think this might have been a lucky coincidence).

Once again, star maiko Momohana has made an excellent impression.

References

Koyama Aiko. Maiko-san-chi no Makanai-san. Serialized manga. Episode 32, Volume 4. Shōgakukan, 2017.  For its new online anime adaptation, NHK World translates the manga title as Kiyo in Kyoto: From the Maiko House.

Murakami Kazuko, Isshō tsukaeru, ippitsu-sen no utsukushii manā to kotoba [Lovely Manners and Words for One-Slip Notes You Can Use Your Entire Life]. Kyoto: PHP, 2015; rpt. 2108.

The featured image for this post–maiko ippitsu-sen–comes from amazon.co.jp on May 11, 2021.

Jan Bardsley, “Maiko Greetings with ‘Stroke of a Pen’ Notes,” janbardsley.web.unc.edu, May 13, 2021.

 

Carnations
Photo by Magda Pawluczuk. magdapawluczuk.pl Posted to Unsplash.

Maiko celebrate Mother’s Day in the Hanamachi

May 9, 2021 / / 2 Comments

Gifts of Pink Carnations to Hanamachi Mothers

Mother’s Day in Japan takes place on the second Sunday in May.  The hanamachi celebrates this custom, too. Maiko and geiko honor their hanamachi “mothers”—the managers of okiya and ochaya as well as their teachers—by presenting them with bouquets of pink carnations.

Photo by FLY:D on Unsplash

The Maternal Role of Hanamachi Mothers

This okiya mother sends maiko off to their evening assignments, remindsing them, “Do your best.” Koyama Aiko, Maiko-san chi no Makanai-san, Vol. 1 (2017), p. 33

Certainly, the hanamachi could not survive without its mothers. They are its main business leaders, curators of tradition, and teachers of the next generations of maiko and geiko.  As I discuss in Maiko Masquerade, popular guides and fiction on the hanamachi praise okiya mothers (okāsan) for embracing a maternal role.

Fictional mothers, such as the okāsan of the Ichi okiya, depicted (left) in Koyama’s popular manga, nurture with affection, advice, and admonishment. Actual mothers portray their roles similarly.  Masuda Kazuyo, one Pontochō mother remarked, “Unless you think of them as your own children, you cannot raise [a maiko]. It truly warms my heart when even those who have left Pontochō to marry come back for
a visit, still calling me “Mother” (Interview with Kyoko Aihara, 2012).

What’s the history of Mother’s Day in Japan?

Age of Shōjo: The Emergence, Evolution, and Power of Japanese Girls’ Magazine (SUNY Press, 2019).

This attention to Mother’s Day in the hanamachi makes me curious about the holiday’s origins in Japan. Historians have written at length about its connection to American influence, militarism, and commerce. Here are just a few highlights.

It was American missionaries who introduced Mother’s Day to Japan.  In 1931, the Ministry of Education formed the Greater Japan Federated Women’s Association  (Dai Nihon Rengo Fujinkai ). At that point,  the Association rebranded Mother’s Day as a celebration of the March 6th birthday of Empress Kojun (1903-2000). In the postwar, however, as Hiromi Tsuchiya Dollase explains, Mother’s Day was “re-introduced as a Western holiday” (89). Dr. Dollase points to the cover of the girls’ magazine Shōjo no tomo (43, no. 5, 1950), featuring “Japanese Little Women,” which “explains how the Nishikawa family spent their Mother’s Day” (90).  Four smiling girls in western dress surround their mother, who wears kimono, as she opens a present.

Mother’s Day Carnations in the Hanamachi

Cover, Hannari to: Kyō maiko no kisetsu (2004).

 

In 2004, photographer Mizobuchi Hiroshi captured kimono-clad maiko and geiko carrying gift bouquets of pink carnations in the Miyagawa-chō hanamachi. He remarks that the practice took hold in the hanamachi, but does not mention when or why (24).

Given the importance of okāsan leadership in the hanamachi, it is little wonder they are honored on Mother’s Day.

References

Kyoko Aihara, Kyoto hanamachi: Maiko to geiko no uchiake-banashi [The Kyoto hanamachi: Frank talk from maiko and geiko]. Tokyo: Tankōsha, 2012.

Hiromi Tsuchiya Dollase, Age of Shōjo: The Emergence, Evolution, and Power of Japanese Girls’ Magazine (SUNY Press, 2019).

Mizobuchi Hiroshi, Hannari to: Kyō maiko no kisetsu [Elegance: Kyoto Maiko Four Seasons] Kyoto Shinbun Shuppan Sentā, 2004.

Jan Bardsley, “Maiko celebrate Mother’s Day in the Hanamachi,”　janbardsley.web.unc.edu, May 9, 2021.

 

 

ca. 1870-1900. Rijksmuseum. Wikimedia Commons.

Enjoying summer breezes at Kamo River, Kyoto

May 6, 2021 / / 8 Comments

Outside Dining at Kamo River on Raised Platforms

How does Kyoto’s Kamo River become a festive site of outdoor dining in early summer? What does this mean for maiko and geiko? This post explores the custom of erecting raised yuka platforms and the changes wrought by Covid-19.  Seeing these photos also takes me back to a delightful student party on the platforms, too.

What are the raised platforms 納涼床?

Noryo-yuka by einalem. 2007. Wikimedia Commons.

This photo shows the platforms open for outdoor seating. They extend from a row of restaurants in the Pontochō district and overlook the Kamogawa “riverbed” (kawadoko). 

Japanese accounts use the term 納涼床, pronounced nōryō-yuka or nōryō-doko. Jim Breen translates this as “raised platform on the bank of a river for enjoying the summer cool.” Visiting the website of the Kyoto Kamo River Nōryō-yuka Association, I found a detailed history. Here are some highlights. (Check their site for breathtaking photos.)

Roots in the 1600s Entertainment District

“Shijo Kawara Yusuzumi Kiitsu” by Yōzaburō Shirahata. “History of Kamo River Nouryou-yuka” 2021. https://yuka-kyoto.com/history/

The custom of enjoying the river breeze while dining outside dates back to the early 1600s when the riverbed became an entertainment district. Artist Shirahata’s print here shows people seated on mats directly on the riverbed. Wealthy clients sit on raised platforms outside the teahouses.  In the mid-Edo period (1603-1867), access to riverbed seating became regulated, allowing teahouses only a limited number of outside seats.  (History of Kamo River Nouryou-Yuka).

Evening Cool on the Riverbank

I’m re Evening Cool on the Riverbank. Utagawa Toyohiro (1773-1828). British Museum. Part of woodblock triptych.

The custom inspired artists, photographers, and writers.  This ukiyo-e (woodblock print) by Utagawa Toyohiro creates a sensual nōryō-yuka scene. The river flows, the robes flow, and perhaps the sake flows, too. In Geisha (1983), Liza Dalby observes how the print shows  “a geisha holding a shamisen, a maid with a kettle of sake, and a lady of pleasure on a wooden veranda over the Kamo River in the early 1800s” (50). 

I’m reminded that women in the 2000s enjoy the nōryō-yuka experience for their own pleasure.

Modern Summer Festivity

ca. 1870-1900. Rijksmuseum. Wikimedia Commons.

In the Meiji era (1868-1912), platforms were regularly erected in July and August. This photo features nōryō-yuka and apprentice geisha together as signs of summer leisure in Kyoto.  Today, too, one may catch sight of maiko and geiko hired to attend riverside parties. Walking along the river in 2015, I happened to see a maiko’s bright hair ornament (kanzashi) through the open window of a restaurant above the platforms. One also sees many groups of young people relaxing on the riverbanks closer to the water, enjoying the experience for free, rather like the crowds that flocked there centuries ago.

A Whiff of Nostalgia in the 2000s

This 2005 daytime photo captures the look of buildings that reflect a bygone era. In 1955, 40-50 establishments sought permission to construct platforms; in 2015, over 100 did. (History of Kamo River Nouryou-Yuka).

Photo by Wolfiewolf from Pontocho, Nakagyo, Kyoto. Wikimedia Commons, 2005.

Walking across the bridges over the Kamo River at night, one catches sight of yuka festivities.  It looks like a blaze of fun!

This reminds me of a wonderful farewell party. In 2005, UNC students, our guides, teachers, and I celebrated the end of our summer study with a nōryō-yuka party.  The weather was perfect.  We’d become a close group. The students had worked hard, literally day and night, learning about Japanese culture, education, and theater. They attended field trips, gave class presentations, and did their own research projects. Funny, I don’t have any photos of this memorable party, but I will never forget it. I wish I could have invited a maiko to join us but that was beyond our budget.

Closed in 2020, Platforms open again in 2021

View at Twilight. Photo by MShades. 2006. Wikimedia Commons

On May 1, 2021, the platforms along the Kamo River opened once again. But, with a twist–shorter hours and no alcohol–in response to the ongoing Covid-19 pandemic. According to Kyoto Shinbun, the season will extend through October this year, given the warmer months of early autumn. I hope visitors enjoy this year’s nōryō-yuka safely.

 

References
Liza Dalby. Geisha. University of California Press, 1983; 2008.

Find a detailed history of the yuka in English and Japanese : https://www.kyoto-yuka.com/about/history.html ; In English, https://yuka-kyoto.com/

You can find an intriguing historical analysis of nōryō-yuka at RADIANT, Ritsumeikan University Research Report: Issue #7, Kyoto: http://www.ritsumei.ac.jp/research/radiant/eng/kyoto/story6.html/

Jan Bardsley, “Enjoying summer breezes at Kamo River, Kyoto,” janbardsley.web.unc.edu, May 5, 2021.

 

 

Momohana greets the teahouse mother. Maiko-san-chi no Makanai-san, manga by Koyama Aiko. Episode 32, Volume 4. Shōgakukan, 2017.

How a Star Maiko Makes a Good Impression: Afternoon Greetings

April 15, 2021 / / 2 Comments

 

Boudewijn Huysmans   Unsplash

The two maiko catch sight of Momohana walking purposefully.  Where is she going? It’s their afternoon free time between lessons and evening parties.  “I bet she’s making afternoon greetings at the teahouses,” says one. “What a serious girl.” Impressed, the two maiko resolve to make more effort themselves. This scene in Koyama Aiko’s maiko manga introduces the “afternoon greeting.”

A maiko’s afternoon greetings: What’s the purpose? How may we learn from the practice?

Today’s post takes us to the custom of ochaya mawari, that is, “making the rounds of the teahouses.”  What’s the purpose of this practice?  What can it tell us about the importance of even brief face-to-face communication?

The maiko must develop good relations with teahouse managers

Maiko and geiko depend on invitations to participate in ozashiki (evening teahouse parties).  That makes it important to stay on good terms with all the women who manage teahouses in their hanamachi (geisha neighborhood).  Making the rounds of teahouses during free time in the afternoon offers one way to do this. As a new member of the hanamachi, the maiko must get her face known in the neighborhood. Ochaya-mawari presents a time-honored way to make a good impression.

Artist Koyama explains the custom

Kiyo in Kyoto: From the Maiko House [Maiko-san-chi no Makanai-san], manga by Koyama Aiko. Episode 32, Volume 4. Shōgakukan, 2017.

In this episode, Koyama’s narrator explains the custom as going to each teahouse one by one to make a quick greeting.

In her manga series Kiyo in Kyoto: From the Maiko House, Koyama Aiko introduces many hanamachi customs.  Momohana, her star maiko, has remarkable talent. But she also works tirelessly to become the best maiko that she can be.  Naturally, she leads the others in taking her afternoon greetings seriously.

 

Momohana greets the teahouse mother. Maiko-san-chi no Makanai-san, manga by Koyama Aiko. Episode 32, Volume 4. Shōgakukan, 2017.

As Momohana’s example illustrates, the courtesy call is a quick greeting. She slides open the door to the  genkan (entryway). This is a space viewed as in-between the public and private. Next, Momohana calls out in the hanamachi dialect, “Excuse me, it’s Momohana.” (すんまへん、百はなどす。Sunmahen, Momohana dosu).  She mentions that her schedule is open at 8pm, so she would be free to attend an ozashiki at this teahouse.

The smile on the okami-san’s  (manager’s) face shows that Momohana is making a good impression indeed. Of course, that Momohana earns praise for making the rounds implies that she is an unusually dutiful maiko.

Afternoon greetings as a staple of maiko life

Komomo and Naoyuki Ogino. A Geisha’s Journey: My Life as a Kyoto Apprentice. 2008.

We find the importance of the maiko’s “afternoon rounds” emphasized in many books on hanamachi life.  In A Geisha’s Journey (2008), Komomo describes how, as a maiko, she made lunchtime “visits to each of the almost forty tea houses in Miyagawa-chō, where many of the ozashiki (evening parties) were held. Believe or not, I did this every day for two whole years, just to drum up business for our okiya” (32).

Geisha, A Life.

Writing about hanamachi life in the 1960s and 1970s, Mineko Iwasaki notes even “geiko had to pay their courtesy calls in the afternoon, in order to remain on good terms with the owners of the ochaya and the senior maiko and geiko. If any member of the community was sick or injured, protocol demanded that they call on her promptly to voice their concern” (79-80).

Face-to-face communication: A useful skill beyond the hanamachi

Even in our digital age, experts in organizational relations promote in-person communication. In “The Lost Art of Face to Face Communication and Why it’s still important,” The Lee Group champions the practice for several reasons.  Meeting people in person can communicate through body language, help build relationships, and foster collaboration. It also allows for better discussion of sensitive issues. One may pick up cues in person that get missed in email.

We also understand that meeting in person takes extra effort and time.  This shows a friendly respect in ways that texts and emails cannot.

Isolated from the usual face-to-face encounters during the pandemic, I missed casual human interactions.  Whether pleasant, irritating, or comic, they added stimulation to my day.  Now that it’s easier to go out again–still masked, safely distant–I will embrace the maiko’s practice of getting out to greet shopkeepers and passersby in my neighborhood. Learning from the hanamachi, I realize this practice builds community.

References

Iwasaki Mineko and Rande Brown. Geisha, a Life. Translated by Rande Brown. New York: Atria, 2002.

Komomo and Naoyuki Ogino. A Geisha’s Journey: My Life as a Kyoto Apprentice. Translated by Gearoid Reidy and Philip Price. Tokyo: Kodansha International, 2008.

Koyama Aiko. Maiko-san-chi no Makanai-san. Serialized manga. Episode 32, Volume 4. Shōgakukan, 2017.  For its new online anime adaptation, NHK World translates the manga title as Kiyo in Kyoto: From the Maiko House.

Jan Bardsley, “How a Star Maiko Makes a Good Impression: Afternoon Greetings,” janbardsley.web.unc.edu, April 15, 2021.

Textile firm Eirakuya designed this tenugui (hand towel).https://eirakuya.shop-pro.jp/?pid=84817513

Nice shot, Maiko! Ooh, look at the golf ball soar!

March 29, 2021 / / 4 Comments

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash.

Maiko sending golf balls flying?
A geiko golf tournament?

Today’s post dips into quirky golf stories and graphics. We go from maiko comedy to geiko as accomplished golfers.  Zooming back to the 1920s and 30s, we see golf shaping modern girl fashion in Japan.  Returning to golf comedy makes us re-think the maiko’s current status and training.

“Nice shot, Maiko! Ooh, look at the ball soar!”

Textile firm Eirakuya designed this tenugui (hand towel).https://eirakuya.shop-pro.jp/?pid=84817513

This funny tenugui (cotton hand towel) comes from Kyoto textile firm Eirakuya. It imagines formally dressed maiko on an expansive golf course. They play beneath a vivid lavender sky.  One holds a huge golf club. Her long kimono and obi don’t inhibit this maiko’s swing at all. Nice shot!

It’s a comic fantasy. But it recalls how hard one must practice to get good at sport. When proficient, the golfer makes it look so easy.  Just like a practiced maiko dancing gracefully.

 

“Geiko are good golfers, and it’s all because of Inoue dance training.”    –Kiriki Chizu

Some of Kyoto’s geiko do develop proficiency in golf.

Retired geiko Kiriki Chizu credits the geiko’s golf skill to her dance training. She develops core strength through practicing the Inoue form of Japanese dance.  Traditional dance, like Noh, emphasizes holding the hips low and the upper body still. Quite a feat. On an earlier post, we saw even world skating star Asada Mao struggling to do it.

The Gion way to skill in becoming loveable: A woman’s polish by Kiriki Chizu. Copyright © 2007. Kōdansha.

In her 2007 memoir, Kiriki describes an event that captures the playful spirit of the sporting maiko tenugui.  It’s called, Gion Golf Classic.

Held twice a year for over 20 years, Gion Golf Classic gathers about 20 Gion women– active geiko, retirees, and teahouse managers.  Although many teahouse clients also play golf avidly, they may not join the tournament. It’s a strictly women-only event. (Clients may contribute to the prize money though, Kiriki writes with a wink).  (Kiriki, 92; 96-97).

The vision of geiko and clients at the golf course reminds us of the luxury associated with teahouse culture, even outside the teahouse. It also recalls that clients are mostly well-off men, likely enjoying hefty corporate entertainment budgets. The scene also points to the easy camaraderie that develops in teahouse culture.

The Groundbreaking 1926 Women’s Golf Tournament

Golfing women, 1926.
Fujin Gahō magazine.

Curious, I researched a bit about the history of women and golf in Japan.  !920S fashions caught my eye.

Often played at expensive country clubs, golf has long connoted aristocratic leisure abroad and in Japan.  The women’s magazine Fujin gahō captured elite ladies playing golf in its November 1926 issue.  Historian Ikuta Makoto describes this event as the first major golf tournament for women.  The  skill of the players and the media attention to “elite ladies” out on the green made it a groundbreaking event in Japanese golf history.

Fujin gahō reproduced the images for its 150th anniversary. The magazine often featured women in western-style sports.  In one photo here, we see a woman giving golf lessons to a girl.

Modern girls as fashionable golfers in Japan 

Postcard by Suzuki Toshio. Early Showa.　In Ikuta Makoto, Modern Girl,118.

Picture postcard, early Showa era. Ikuta Makoto, Modern Girl, 118.

Fashion magazines and films in the 1920s and 30s featured chic women active in sports. Each sport, including golf, had its own costume. Sportswomen at play conveyed leisure and self-confidence. In turn, sportwear shaped fashion design from Paris to Tokyo. Ikuta Makoto displays postcards of modern girls golfing.

Since Kyoto geiko were experimenting with modern dance styles and entertainments in the 1920s, too, I wonder if any photos of modern golfing geiko exist.

Japanese women’s global golfing success

Catching up with the times, we see Japanese women have achieved global success in golf. Hisako “Chako” Higuchi became the first Asian to win a major championship when she triumphed at the LPGA in 1977. In 2003, Higuchi “became the first Japanese golfer inducted into the World Golf Hall of Fame” (Wikipedia). By the early 2000s, women may have comprised up to 15% of the golf players in Japan (Guttmann and Thompson, 212).

Oh, how it soars!
Tenugui design. Eirakuya.

Back to maiko comedy: What more can we learn?

It is no longer remarkable for young women to enjoy a round of golf today. Yet, it still remains an expensive sport—requiring access to clubs, proper gear, and the de rigueur golfing ensemble. The charming image of saucy maiko swinging clubs on the Eirakuya’s tenugui may seem at glance anachronistic. But it is no more so than observing a maiko perched properly on a chair in a fancy French restaurant.  Maiko point to affluence and training as well as to the subtle discipline demonstrated in a “nice shot.”

Featured image: “Oh, How it soars” captures maiko enjoying golf. This is a contemporary design for tengui  by the Kyoto textile firm Eirakuya,  https://www.eirakuya.jp/

References

Guttman, Alan and Lee Thompson. Japanese Sports: A History. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2001.

Ikuta Makoto.  Modan gāru daizukan [Big picture book of the modern girl]. Tokyo: Kawade Shobō Shinsha, 2012.

Kiriki Chizu. Aisare jōzu ni naru Gion-ryū: Onna migaki [The Gion way to skill in
becoming loveable: A woman’s polish]. Tokyo: Kōdansha, 2007.

Steele, Valerie. Paris Fashion: A Culture History. London: Bloomsbury, 2017.

 

Jan Bardsley, “Nice shot, Maiko! Ooh, look at the ball soar!”, janbardsley.web.unc.edu, March 29, 2021.

I designed this website and blog for educational and informational purposes only. I strive to  locate the names of the creators of texts and images cited, and properly acknowledge them.

Maiko strap
Photo: Jan Bardsley Mar 2021

Maiko and the Charm of Small Things

March 22, 2021 / / 6 Comments

 

Maiko turn up in Kyoto as all kinds of small things.
How does that affect their public persona?

Maiko Stickers.
https://hyogensha.net/products19/card/seal.pdf

Maiko keychains, stickers, cell-phone straps, and tiny candies abound in souvenir shops—a veritable cornucopia of girlish delights.  Uniformly bright, perky, and inexpensive, they fit easily in your pocket. Portable talismans of kawaii, like Hello Kitty goods, they bring a dash of charm to daily routines.

But Hello Kitty is a fiction. Maiko are real people. So, how do these charming “small things” help define the public image of the maiko herself?  Three aspects stand out.

1．Maiko are childlike.

Child maiko. 1920s.
Photo by Kurokawa Suizan.
Kyoto Institute, Library and Archives.

Many souvenir maiko look cherubic. This recalls how maiko of the 1920s and 1930s really were children, sometimes as young as eleven. Now maiko trainees (shikomi) must be at least fifteen years old. Still, an air of girlish innocence remains essential to the maiko’s appeal.  In Maiko Masquerade, I discuss how some maiko find “living down” to this naivete constraining, while others feel free in their girl role.

Of course, even ferocious characters like Godzilla can become childlike as plastic toys. The maiko’s girlish persona makes the transformation especially easy.

 2. Maiko are kawaii.

Maiko candies.
Photo: Jan Bardsley Mar 2021.

The maiko defines a certain stripe of kawaii. The kind of kawaii that sits at  “the juncture of ‘cute,’ ‘tiny,’ or ‘lovable” (Merriam-Webster).  According to scholar Joshua Paul Dale, kawaii things convey the “unabashed joy found in the undemanding presence of innocent, harmless, adorable things.”

While “kawaii” encompasses different registers, including the grotesque and creepy, maiko kawaii embraces this sense of  “unabashed joy.”

Travel and fashion guides portray the maiko, too, as a fan of kawaii things. She likes bite-size sushi and colorful fruit sandwiches. She may carry Minnie Mouse or Hello Kitty goods in her handbag.  In the Kyoto visual field, the kawaii maiko and her adorable souvenir likeness blend to produce an aura of charm.

As Kyoto girl and Kyoto souvenir, the maiko lightens the cultural weight of ancient temples, gardens, and Zen-inspired arts. Transferred into countless small objects, the maiko makes Kyoto accessible and consumable. Yet, as Kyoto’s mascot, the maiko continually reminds tourists that they are in the old capital.

3. Maiko make Kyoto a girls’ playground.

Maiko strap

Photo: Jan Bardsley Mar 2021

Charming maiko goods, kawaii maiko images recreate Kyoto as a leisure space friendly to girls and women.  While the historical maiko emerged, too, in a world of play for purchase, it was a world geared to providing pleasure to Japanese men.  Contemporary maiko and their souvenir look-alikes, however, shift the concern from pleasing men to inviting girls to have fun. Girlish play extends into all kinds of small consumables and sweet experiences. Crossing gender boundaries, tourists of all sexes today may enjoy the invitation to have fun.

The maiko trinkets on my desk and bookcase always make me smile. Maybe they’re telling me to relax and enjoy the moment.

 

Jan Bardsley, “Maiko and the Charm of Small Things,” janbardsley.web.unc.edu.  March 22, 2021.

 

 

Ōishi Kuranosuke Yoshio, Leader of the Forty-Seven Loyal Retainers. Artist: Tsukioka Yoshitoshi (Japan, 1839-1892). Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Wikimedia Commons.

Maiko, Noodles, and the 47 Rōnin

March 18, 2021 / / 2 Comments

The Storehouse of Loyalty – Chūshingura (47 Rōnin) ukiyo-e set by Hiroshige Utagawa, circa 1836.  Wikimedia Commons.

Maiko dancing and serving soba noodles to guests?  What was the story behind this March event?  In today’s post, I take up an annual Gion event with one foot in history and the other in myth.

Honoring Ōishi Kuranosuke, Leader of the 47 Rōnin

Ichiriki Teahouse Photo: Mariemon Wikimedia Commons

On March 20, Gion Kōbu honors the memory of Kyoto revolutionary Ōishi Kuranosuke, the leader of the 47 rōnin (masterless men). The ceremony takes place at the exclusive Gion teahouse, Ichiriki. Only regular clients are invited.

Inoue Yachiyo V Vhttps://www.kyo.or.jp/brand/award/grand.html

At the Ichiriki ceremony, Inoue Yachiyo V, designated a Living National Treasure, performs.  She dances Fukaki kokoro (Deep Heart) in front of a Buddhist mortuary tablet (ihai) honoring the men.  Maiko and geiko also dance.  They later serve tea and hand-made soba noodles to the guests (Mizobuchi, 15).

Who was Ōishi Kuranosuke? What’s his connection to Gion?

As part of an elaborate plot to avenge the death of his lord, the stalwart Ōishi assumed deep cover by disguising his true character. He played the part of a dissolute. For two years,  he frequented the Ichiriki teahouse until he and the 47 rōnin were ready to attack and kill their lord’s enemy.  The men were arrested and ordered to commit ritualized suicide (seppuku), which they did on March 20, 1703. Long romanticized in all manner of Japanese arts as symbolizing samurai loyalty, Ōishi and the 47 rōnin are buried at Sengakuji, a Zen temple near Shinagawa, Tokyo—their graveyard now a tourist site.

Why soba noodles?

Photo Masaaki Komori  Unsplash

Lori Brau highlights the soba symbolism here. She explains how  uchiiri soba (soba of the raid) allude to the story that Ōishi and his band gathered at a soba shop. They ate this simple meal together before launching their raid and accomplishing their vendetta. Brau notes, “Soba’s tendency to break easily, due to its lack of gluten (which adds viscosity), renders it an apt symbol for parting (71).”

According to Lesley Downer, doubt exists as to whether the current Ichiriki was actually the site of Ōishi ’s debauchery. But, the connection has worked in the teahouse’s favor as “there were always people willing to dissipate an evening at the scene of the most celebrated partying in Japanese history (162).”

Why do tales of the 47 Rōnin  endure?

The Gion ceremony offers only one way of remembering Ōishi and the 47 Rōnin. All manner of art forms–puppet theater, Noh, film and TV, graphic novels and anime–have recounted versions of the tale. The tale has been put in service of widely different movements, including “popular rights, Christianity, capitalism, Marxism, pacifism, and contemporary cartoon culture (Tucker, 3).”

I caught up with John Tucker, Professor of History at East Carolina University, to ask why the tale endures. He’s the author of The Forty-Seven Rōnin: The Vendetta in History (Cambridge UP, 2018).   John responded, “The historic 47 Rōnin vendetta became an unparalleled sensation in Japan due to its retelling on stage as Chūshingura (Storehouse of Loyal Retainers). And of the eleven acts in that play, the most popular ones present Ōboshi Yuranosuke (Ōishi  Kuranosuke) as a dissolute hedonist enjoying himself in Kyoto’s pleasure quarters even while plotting to take murderous revenge on his late-lord’s enemy.”

Ōishi’s “shrewd tango with life”

Author John A. Tucker
Cambridge UP, 2018

“Everyone knows the grisly end and so relishes the chance to share vicariously Ōishi’s last and quite shrewd tango with life,” explained John. “After all, his time in the pleasure quarters made Ōishi most fully human, alive with passions and flaws even if the latter were so much subterfuge for his mortal sincerity and lethal vengeance. In affirming life unto death, Ōishi epitomized an existential ideal that all admire, though few might actually realize.”

Want to learn more?  I recommend John Tucker’s The Forty-Seven Rōnin for an approachable, well-researched guide. Historian Peter Nosco praises the book as,  “The definitive book-length study by a uniquely qualified scholar of one of Japanese history’s most contested events.”   Perhaps read The Forty-Seven Rōnin this March while enjoying soba.

References

Brau, Lori. 2018. “Soba, Edo Style:  Food, Aesthetics, and Cultural Identity.” In Devouring Japan: Perspectives on Japanese Culinary Identity, edited by Nancy Stalker,  65-80.  New York: Oxford University Press.

Downer, Lesley. 2002. Women of the Pleasure Quarters: The Secret History of the Geisha. New York: Broadway.

Mizobuchi Hiroshi.  2002.  Kyoto kagai. Kyoto: Mitsumura Suiko Shoin Publishing Co., Ltd.

Tucker, John A.  2018. The Forty-Seven Rōnin: The Vendetta in History.  Cambridge University Press.

Jan Bardsley, “Maiko, Noodles, and the 47 Rōnin,” janbardsley.web.unc.edu.  March 18, 2021.

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