Kyogen Theatre Responses
In retrospect, the questions I wrote for the kyogen theatre workshop seem “easier” than those I wrote for both Artifact and the Axis Dance Company performance and forums. (The performance theme here is really not surprising, given my scholarly training and interests). I would not want to suggest that contemporary ballet and modern dance are more challenging than kyogen, but the fun and interactive workshop inspired me to take a more lighthearted approach to this set of questions. Yet kyogen actors, like Katsumi Yanagimoto, begin rigorous training at a very young age, typically 7, and follow strict rules about the order in which they memorize and perform the kyogen repertory, a canon of plays that has been largely static since the 16th century. They learn gestures that have been codified for centuries, and unlike a western actor, improvisation in performance is strictly forbidden. Kyogen theater reminds me of the differences in theatrical traditions around the world, and comedy is certainly specific to culture and even time period. It is actually quite amazing that kyogen’s humor seems so fresh.
Many of those who responded to the event pointed out that the comedy is largely in the story or plot of a kyogen play. Others added that, as Alex Maytin put it, the humorous scenario is “complemented by the precise and sometimes over-the-top performance by the actors.” Kaya Williams found that the lack of props and costuming added to the “outlandish situations.” Brent Heineman, one of our brave audience participants, also located the comedy in the “simplicity” of kyogen.
Of course, the gestures and sound effects contribute significantly to the comedic effect of kyogen. According to Justin Messmer, this form of comedy worked across the language barrier: “For viewers who do not understand Japanese, these gestures can be the main source of humor within the play; without knowing a word of Japanese, Kyogen still remains an enjoyable form of entertainment for the viewer. The exaggerated gestures in themselves make normal tasks a spectacle to be enjoyed by the audience.” Zaharoula Blanas, Vanessa de Beaumont, Dev Flanagan, and Serene Bahi, among others, were interested in the fact that kyogen actors are taught how to laugh with a very specific technique. Coming from western theatrical traditions, we do not imagine that actors need to learn how to laugh, walk, or throw something, but kyogen reminds us that no stage action is natural; it is always learned. Maxwell Grant offered a comprehensive summary of the physicality demonstrated by Katsumi Yanagimoto: “The actor emphasized many of the walking patterns that were often used on the stage (for example, the triangle to signal that the setting has changed). He also demonstrated throwing a stone, keeping himself hidden behind the fan, and something along the lines of climbing a tree. Finally, he demonstrated how different actors on stage will use their posture to signify to the audience that they are invisible or not in the scene (i.e. sitting in the back of the stage).” Henry Sales pointed out that each gesture is accompanied by a “wild onomatopoeia,” that is, a set of words or vocalizations intended to sound like what they describe.
Many of you gave detailed descriptions of how the kyogen actor threw a rock at the persimmon tree, but this was something of a trick question: “What happens to all the windup before the kyogen actor throws something?” Christy Eichlin nailed it: “The windup before the throw is inconsequential and mainly used for comedic effect.” Gabriel Lobbock also got it right: “He stops for no real reason and it [the windup] goes to waste.” For Audrey Wack, the windup “is dissipated before the actual and anticlimactic throw.” Adelaine Reynolds gave the most concise response: “It stops.” Dylan Herina, another brave audience participant who actually attempted to learn the throw, waxed philosophical: “Who am I to definitively say what happens to the windup? It should mean something different to each person.” I’m pretty sure Michael Grinshpun got the trick in the question, but regardless, his answer was great: “Ay AY AYYyyyYYyyyYY *pause* YATONA!” I think we should go across the street and teach the Red Sox how to throw kyogen-style! (Ok, ok, I’m betraying why I trained in the serious noh, not the way-more-fun kyogen theater.)
Professor Preston