Kennosuke Nakamori’s sonorous voice fills a
small room as he practises the lines of a traditional Japanese Noh play, even
though he hasn’t performed before a live audience in months.
He moves gracefully as he rehearses the studied
movements associated with the ancient art, but his serene exterior belies deep
worries about the future of Noh.
The coronavirus pandemic has shuttered theatres
across Japan, and while other traditional art forms can rely on private backers
or state subsidies, Noh depends on staging shows.
With audiences and performers already dwindling
even before the pandemic, some in the industry fear the virus may sound the
death knell for an art considered one of the oldest extant theatre forms in the
world.
“There are many performers who have stopped
doing shows” due to the coronavirus, 33-year-old Nakamori told AFP at his
family’s theatre in the coastal city of Kamakura, near Tokyo.
“How many shows can we do during the pandemic
. . . and can we earn a living? This is a big problem,” he sighed.
In some ways, Noh faces the same crisis as
other arts around the world affected by coronavirus.
But while some governments fund the performing
arts, Noh actors say they are seeing little support and what they have been
offered is impractical.
There are government subsidies for
performances, but Nakamori says social distancing measures mean theatres must
be half-empty for shows, so even with subsidies staging performances is a losing
financial prospect.
“The more you perform on stage, the bigger the
losses will be,” he said.
“We need subsidies that compensate us when we
cannot hold shows.”
Ancient roots
Noh’s roots date back as far as the eighth
century, but the plays performed today were largely developed around Japan’s
Muromachi period from 1336-1573.
The art, which is on UNESCO’s Intangible
Cultural Heritage list, combines dance, music and drama in a minimalist
approach that sets it apart from the more elaborate sets, makeup and costumes
of Kabuki.
Actors wear wooden masks and traditional
kimonos, sliding along the stage in white split-toe tabi socks.
The plays are performed almost exclusively by
male actors, who deliver lines in low, extended tones that can be difficult for
modern audiences to understand.
They are accompanied by drummers and flutists
on stages traditionally made from cypress wood and adorned with a single
painted pine tree on the back wall.
Even before the pandemic, audiences for Noh
were shrinking and fewer young people undertook the intensive training
required.
Japan’s other major theatre form Kabuki can
count on backing from major entertainment and film company Shochiku, which
began running all major Kabuki shows in 1929.
And other art forms, like Bunraku puppetry, are
heavily funded by the government.
“We work as individual freelancers so it’s a
problem that there’s no funding for us,” said Nakamori’s father Kanta, 59, who
passed the art down to his son.
Genjiro Okura, who plays the small kotsuzumi
drum used in Noh, has been hailed as a national treasure by the government for
his talents.
But that hasn’t protected the 62-year-old from
the crisis.
“We’ve been pushed into a tough situation,”
said Okura, who went four months without a single performance.
Noh artists often supplement their income by
teaching amateurs, but that too has dried up.
“There are older people who learn Noh as a
hobby but many quit due to the virus,” Okura said.
Attracting new fans
While some artists have tried live-streaming
performances, Nakamori fears Noh doesn’t lend itself well to video due to its
stripped-back nature.
“If it’s live, with chants from musicians and
powerful songs from performers, the audience doesn’t get bored,” he said.
“But it’s hard to feel that with videos.”
Concerned about the future of Noh, Nakamori and
his father have launched a crowdfunding campaign to cover their expected losses
for shows they hope to stage in the autumn.
They are also raising ticket prices and
soliciting donations in return for Noh-related gifts.
And despite some reservations, they plan to try
streaming some performances and charging for them.
Noh performers need to “think of ways to make
their shows profitable,” Kanta said.
“We’ll need to create new attractions and make
efforts to attract new fans,” he said.
He hopes that online interest might even bring
in new fans, though he remains wary about the virus, particularly the risks of
an infection cluster at a theatre.
Given Noh’s centuries of history, he is hopeful
“its charm won’t wane that easily.”
His son worries nonetheless that economic
downturn may push arts down the list of priorities for the government.
“But Noh is part of Japanese traditional arts
and we have to protect it,” he said.