So I went to this event on the 1st of December but the news only came out on the 23rd in The Star. So I decided to put this up here too ;D
Personally, it was a very very good experience! The mushroom and mosquito bits were hilarious! If he ever comes here again, I'll definitely go for it again.
Kyogen actor introduces traditional Japanese theatre art by bidding participants to act like mushrooms and mosquitoes.
How does one act like a mushroom?
For Mansai Nomura, a Japanese actor here to present a kyogen lecture and demonstration at the Tunku Abdul Rahman Hall in Malaysia Tourism Center recently, it’s about letting your imagination run free.
For the 26 students from the National Academy of Arts, Culture and Heritage (Aswara), it would be a feat reserved only for the very fit.
On stage, they had to squat, keep their knees together, straighten their backs and perambulate to the front of the stage like toy ducks on batteries.
Fun to watch but hard to do.
One plus-sized student promptly improvised by toddling on her knees, producing a deep-throated laugh from the artistic director of Setagaya Public Theatre, Tokyo, himself.
“The formula to a successful comedy is to do the unexpected. Also remember to do it seriously, or it won’t come across,” explains Nomura, 46.
In showing the Aswara group the basic movements of kyogen, a traditional Japanese art form from the 14th century, he also bade them to act like mosquitoes. Perhaps many go into theatre with aspirations that are significantly larger than a mosquito’s. But for Nomura, every role must be played with conviction, even if it’s of a teeny, weeny mosquito.
The students had to charge at Nomura and two of his fellow actors like a bloodthirsty mob. Mind, despite looking like a violent tribe, they are only mere mosquitoes. To thwart their blood sucking mission needs only the gentle wave of a fan. If only such a mob can be so easily cowed, the riot police would be out of a job. Thus comes the second rule of comedy – to bank on the ridiculous. The third is not to allow the mind to dwell too deeply on things.
In his presentation of Busu (The Delicious Poison), the cast comprising Nomura, Hiroharu Fukata, Kazunori Takano and Shuichi Nakamura, all from the Mansaku-no-Kai Kyogen Company, takes a jab at suicide.
Revolving around two servants who eat up all their master’s sugar, a precious commodity in medieval times, the honourable way to atone for thievery is to die. Instead, the rascally employees cook up a tall tale of engaging in a bout of sumo wrestling which had supposedly resulted in the breaking of a hanging scroll and tea pot. Seemingly aghast at their carelessness, they try to commit suicide.
The twist here is their master had initially told them the sugar was poison and they were to avoid going near it at all costs for even a breeze blowing across the container was toxic enough to kill. Alas, despite eating all the poison, they are still alive.
The joke is, of course, on idiocy, but if one ponders too deeply into the suicidal part, it would adversely affect the humour.
As it is, suicide is a gruesome business in Japanese culture, where self-disembowelment is well described in its literature. Though it was abolished in 1873, notable Japanese who have performed seppuku include Chujiro Hayashi, the second grand master of Reiki, and Isao Inokuma, a gold medalist for judo in the 1964 Olympics.
Macabre thoughts aside, Busu is a classic that remains a popular kyogen piece with Nomura’s brethren, retold in textbooks and reenacted by school children. The material may be from the samurai era, but the identity of laughter knows no expiry date and is universal.
Having performed the piece two times, once in the United States and the second in Malaysia, Nomura affirms exact audience reaction in two scenes.
One was the silly notion that toxic fumes could be fanned away as the servants approached the container of poison/sugar. Another was when they started stealing the container from each other for a bigger share.
“Kyogen is a cynical lampoon at human failings. If you look at the repertoire which contains some 254 pieces, there are no outstanding or model citizens. In one, you might have a henpecked husband, in another an unpious monk. In essence, it is about empathising with the predicament of the character, very much like situational comedy,” says Nomura.
And yes, life can imitate art.
As the cast members were taking their final bows in Busu, a look of irritation was seen flashing across Nomura’s boyish features. His understudy had forgotten his cue. “I had told him to leave and re-enter the stage together but he went and did a solo act by exiting and entrancing last,” reveals an unamused Nomura.
But when your father and grandfather are recognised as Living National Treasures in Japanese classical theatre arts, you tend to develop a perfectionist nature. In fact, his father, Mansaku, now 82, still performs every day. Taking the family tradition to the fourth generation is Nomura’s 13-year-old son Yuki.
Known for his penchant to merge the contemporary with the classics, Nomura’s resume includes lead roles in Greek tragedies and films. In a land famed for the creation of superheroes, he too has joined such a legion by playing On Myo Ji, a TV series chronicling the journeys of a fortune teller who possesses magical powers. The programme, which came on air nine years ago, is now available on DVD in China and South Korea.
In addition to imitating mushrooms and mosquitoes, Nomura’s other favourite act is of the spaced-out character, a role he gladly slips into when he is on holiday with his children, aged between five and 15. He mentions Pangkor Island as the destination of choice.
Credits: The Star
Kyogen actor introduces traditional Japanese theatre art by bidding participants to act like mushrooms and mosquitoes.
How does one act like a mushroom?
For Mansai Nomura, a Japanese actor here to present a kyogen lecture and demonstration at the Tunku Abdul Rahman Hall in Malaysia Tourism Center recently, it’s about letting your imagination run free.
For the 26 students from the National Academy of Arts, Culture and Heritage (Aswara), it would be a feat reserved only for the very fit.
On stage, they had to squat, keep their knees together, straighten their backs and perambulate to the front of the stage like toy ducks on batteries.
Fun to watch but hard to do.
One plus-sized student promptly improvised by toddling on her knees, producing a deep-throated laugh from the artistic director of Setagaya Public Theatre, Tokyo, himself.
“The formula to a successful comedy is to do the unexpected. Also remember to do it seriously, or it won’t come across,” explains Nomura, 46.
In showing the Aswara group the basic movements of kyogen, a traditional Japanese art form from the 14th century, he also bade them to act like mosquitoes. Perhaps many go into theatre with aspirations that are significantly larger than a mosquito’s. But for Nomura, every role must be played with conviction, even if it’s of a teeny, weeny mosquito.
The students had to charge at Nomura and two of his fellow actors like a bloodthirsty mob. Mind, despite looking like a violent tribe, they are only mere mosquitoes. To thwart their blood sucking mission needs only the gentle wave of a fan. If only such a mob can be so easily cowed, the riot police would be out of a job. Thus comes the second rule of comedy – to bank on the ridiculous. The third is not to allow the mind to dwell too deeply on things.
In his presentation of Busu (The Delicious Poison), the cast comprising Nomura, Hiroharu Fukata, Kazunori Takano and Shuichi Nakamura, all from the Mansaku-no-Kai Kyogen Company, takes a jab at suicide.
Revolving around two servants who eat up all their master’s sugar, a precious commodity in medieval times, the honourable way to atone for thievery is to die. Instead, the rascally employees cook up a tall tale of engaging in a bout of sumo wrestling which had supposedly resulted in the breaking of a hanging scroll and tea pot. Seemingly aghast at their carelessness, they try to commit suicide.
The twist here is their master had initially told them the sugar was poison and they were to avoid going near it at all costs for even a breeze blowing across the container was toxic enough to kill. Alas, despite eating all the poison, they are still alive.
The joke is, of course, on idiocy, but if one ponders too deeply into the suicidal part, it would adversely affect the humour.
As it is, suicide is a gruesome business in Japanese culture, where self-disembowelment is well described in its literature. Though it was abolished in 1873, notable Japanese who have performed seppuku include Chujiro Hayashi, the second grand master of Reiki, and Isao Inokuma, a gold medalist for judo in the 1964 Olympics.
Macabre thoughts aside, Busu is a classic that remains a popular kyogen piece with Nomura’s brethren, retold in textbooks and reenacted by school children. The material may be from the samurai era, but the identity of laughter knows no expiry date and is universal.
Having performed the piece two times, once in the United States and the second in Malaysia, Nomura affirms exact audience reaction in two scenes.
One was the silly notion that toxic fumes could be fanned away as the servants approached the container of poison/sugar. Another was when they started stealing the container from each other for a bigger share.
“Kyogen is a cynical lampoon at human failings. If you look at the repertoire which contains some 254 pieces, there are no outstanding or model citizens. In one, you might have a henpecked husband, in another an unpious monk. In essence, it is about empathising with the predicament of the character, very much like situational comedy,” says Nomura.
And yes, life can imitate art.
As the cast members were taking their final bows in Busu, a look of irritation was seen flashing across Nomura’s boyish features. His understudy had forgotten his cue. “I had told him to leave and re-enter the stage together but he went and did a solo act by exiting and entrancing last,” reveals an unamused Nomura.
But when your father and grandfather are recognised as Living National Treasures in Japanese classical theatre arts, you tend to develop a perfectionist nature. In fact, his father, Mansaku, now 82, still performs every day. Taking the family tradition to the fourth generation is Nomura’s 13-year-old son Yuki.
Known for his penchant to merge the contemporary with the classics, Nomura’s resume includes lead roles in Greek tragedies and films. In a land famed for the creation of superheroes, he too has joined such a legion by playing On Myo Ji, a TV series chronicling the journeys of a fortune teller who possesses magical powers. The programme, which came on air nine years ago, is now available on DVD in China and South Korea.
In addition to imitating mushrooms and mosquitoes, Nomura’s other favourite act is of the spaced-out character, a role he gladly slips into when he is on holiday with his children, aged between five and 15. He mentions Pangkor Island as the destination of choice.
Credits: The Star
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