Kabuki’s recorded history goes back to the 1600s, it is considered a classical Japanese theatrical form with elements of song, dance and drama. It’s stunning costumes and makeup, intricate technical demands of the actor, and breathtaking aesthetics makes Kabuki a unique theatrical experience. It’s dramatic form and narratives are simple (although deceivingly so), which means a little explanation along the way is enough to help you navigate past the language barrier and plunge into the stories.

Honestly, finding Kabuki in Tokyo wasn’t that difficult. It was getting the tickets and figuring out the decorum required to attend the show that was a bit of a challenge. I found the Shochiku website quite quickly (but I couldn’t load the Flash-less on my Ipad and Iphone, so I had to wait till I got to a desktop to access the site – not an easy feat when you’re on a vacation), and while there was an English version, for a Kabuki noob and someone a bit more anal about respecting the art form by not assuming that my theatre attending decorum is the same for Kabuki, it wasn’t the most intuitive to find the relevant information.

Shochiku has a long history dating back to the late 1800s and has since expanded from being a theatre company into one that produces feature films too. This turned out great because a lot of the great Kabuki performances have been recorded for purchase on DVD. Theater should be enjoyed in a the theatre but sometimes a recording is essential for longevity. I was elated. More about that later.

So the ticket itself on first glance is NOT CHEAP. My initial choice was for the cheapest, a Upper Tier B seat at 3000 yen, about SGD$50 at the current exchange rate. That wasn’t available, so I pursued the other options of:  Box Seat :17,000 / First Class A Seat : 16,000 / First Class B Seat : 11,000 Second Class A Seat : 9,000 / Second Class B Seat : 5,000 Upper Tier A : 5,000. The cheapest option available was a Second Class A Seat at 9000 yen (SGD$150). Quite above my budget but I thought I would probably never get the chance to watch Kabuki like this again. So I bought a ticket for the matinee show

Shochiku runs two shows, a matinee and evening show. The matinee show starts at 11am, the evening at 4pm. I heard that watching Kabuki requires a lot of time, and that it was perfectly okay to leave and come back. I wasn’t exactly sure what was on the program, and thankfully, Shochiku has an English website, Kabuki Web. It included information about the plays that would be performed. But since I knew nothing about Kabuki and I only had that one day to watch Kabuki, I just bought whatever fitted my schedule – the matinee show. Shochiku runs a number of theatre performance venues (and cinema venues). My show was  at the Shimbashi Enbuko Theatre, not as deep as Singapore’ Drama Center but much wider, so the view looks like it would be good from almost everywhere. Be careful though, if you sit at audience left (or stage right) on third level, you won’t be able to see the hanamichi, which is an essential part of the Kabuki form. There will be a video display of the hanamichi that turns on whenever an actor enters the platform.

Getting to the Shimbashi Enbujo Theatre in Ginza wasn’t difficult, especially since I was at the Tsukiji fish market earlier in the morning. It was totally within walking distance. The closest subway stop was the Higashi Ginza Station on the Hibiya Line or Asakusa Line, exit 6. I arrived about 15 minutes before the show and there was a steady stream of Kabuki goers moving in the direction of the theatre. It’s not hard to tell who’s going to a Kabuki show because the Japanese ladies, especially the older ones, would dress in their traditional wear. I saw one gentleman wearing the traditional but most of the guys wore more modern attire. The bottom line is you dress up for Kabuki. Everyone had a least an evening jacket on. A black tie attire would be too formal, at least for the matinee show (the evening might be more).

When you enter, you have the option of renting an audio transistor radio guide, in English or Japanese. DO IT. It doesn’t cost much, you will have to deposit 1000 yen in addition to the 650 yen (about SGD$10) rental fee, but you’ll get the 1000 yen deposit back when you return the audio guide. For someone who didn’t speak Japanese, the audio guide was a welcomed nuisance. I say nuisance because the performance was not amplified, which is rare, so I would have preferred to have enjoyed the natural sound. Nonetheless, the English guides were recorded in such a way that the narrator gives you time to take in the scene. Dialogue didn’t seem like they were translated verbatim and and breaks are recorded into the track to allow you to do so. I took off the ear-piece on the occasion just to take in the natural sound.

The audience light never goes off during a scene, unless it is to transport the audience to a different realm. (A full blackout was used only once to simulate night). The audience is a big part of the Kabuki experience, you’re encouraged to kakego, or shout a bravo except you don’t shout bravo but the family name of the actor. Lights on also mean that you’re highly visible by everyone around you and across you. But don’t sweat it, it’s perfectly okay to doze off. I noticed a lot of dipped heads, but not many of them were fighting to stay away. Those around didn’t seem to bother either. Of course, don’t snore.

The first show started at 11am, the last curtain came down at around 4pm. An epic 5 hours in the theatre watching 3 shows. If you ask me, this made the ticket price very worth it! A broadway show of about 2.5 hours would cost the same, and you only get one show. There was 20 minute intermission after the first show (Shishi, a Kabuki dance drama), a 30 minute after the second show (Kinkakuji, a full length Kabuki drama) and 5 minute intervals between acts of the last show (a dark comedy called Kagatobi, the fire men of kaga). The 30 minute intermission was definitely to give the audience the opportunity to have lunch, which came around 1.00pm. You can either bring your own bento box to eat in the foyer areas of the theatre,  purchase a bento box from the theatre, or eat at their in-house restaurant. There is a cafe opposite the theatre and a 7-Eleven. I decided to just eat a simple snack from the 7-Eleven, mostly to save money .

Leaving the theatre after 5 hours, I would have gladly bought another SGD$150 ticket to watch another 5 hours in the evening. But I decided that I would spend the money to bring home a little Kabuki souvenir in the form of a DVD. I managed to find a bookstore that sold Kabuki DVDs produced by Shochiku, I settled for just one introductory DVD of Kabuki.

When watching Kabuki, you immerse yourself into this special space. Time slows and you enter a different realm. How rare it is this day and age to have a paying audience, all devoted to spend 5 hours in the theatre? This was simply sublime for me. What was even more precious was that the shows were presented at a high production value (there were multiple full set changes, including one on a rotating stage and a pavilion that sunk into the ground to reveal it’s upper floors just for one scene. Even the stage curtains were changed to fit the mood of the play!). You would be able to catch a Broadway play in Australia at the same wicked quality as a show on the Great White Way in New York City but I daresay you won’t be able to catch such a Kabuki presentation in any other country. This is precious.

Here are the shows I caught:

Shishi (mythical lion-like spirits) are usually thought of as vigorous masculine creatures, but when shishi dances were first adapted to kabuki from the classical Noh theatre, they were danced by actors portraying an elegant, feminine atmosphere. This dance is one of the earliest in the genre and stars onnagata female role specialists.

Kinkakuji retains the epic scale of plays adapted from the Bunraku puppet theatre and is full of miracles and larger-than-life characters common on the puppet stage. Matsunaga Daizen has defeated the shogun and has set up base in the Golden Pavilion. The brilliant strategist Hisayoshi, disguised as a disgruntled retainer named Tokichi, pretends to come under Daizen’s employ to try to sabotage his plans from within. Princess Yuki is being held prisoner by Daizen, but is able to free herself by drawing a mouse in the cherry petals of the tree that she is tied to. It comes to life and chews the ropes holding her. The role of Princess Yuki is considered to be one of the most difficult princess roles in kabuki and only the most accomplished actors are allowed to play this role.

Kagatobi (The Firemen of Kaga). The firemen serving the fabulously wealthy Kaga clan were famous for their colorful spirit. This play features a short pageant of these firefighters combined with a dark story of the sinister masseur Dogen who uses murder, theft and extortion to satisfy his lust and greed. The actor playing Dogen doubles as one of the gallant bosses of the firefighting gang alongside the firefighter that unmasks Dogen’s villainy.

Synopses taken from http://www.kabuki-bito.jp/eng/top.html

Watching the SMC tonight to support a good friend…but it wasn’t easy finding a companion along. Luckily there will be drinks, so I can pretend to be seriously interested in my alcohol during the 20 min intermission. It’s gonna be awesome, I can feel it.

No matter where you are
or who you’re near,
we come up for air together.

No matter my pace or distance,
it’s you I surface to.

-excerpted from Sublimation, a poem by Anne Michaels

Founded in 1917, the playhouse was designated in 1937 as the state theater of California. Actors such as Dustin Hoffman and Gene Hackman have been associated with it through the years, and the current company has launched productions that went on to runs elsewhere: The musical adaptation of the hit film “Sister Act” is currently playing in London, and “Looped,” a one-woman show about Tallulah Bankhead starring Valerie Harper that was seen at the playhouse in 2008, is to open on Broadway this spring. – LA Times

Non-profit regional theatres serve as as important incubators and stepping transitional blocks for works that are eventually pipe-lined into the commercial machines on Broadway, the West End, and other theatre markets around the world. Like the rest of most of America’s economy, it’s clear that the non-profit arts needs to find a financial model that allows for the nurturing of important works that are less commercially viable (ahead of its time etc), keep the organization afloat, and (perhaps most importantly) relevant in the community’s eye.

In observing how and why people donate or purchase, the big financial donors are often those who want the glitz, glamour, and prestige of being associated with a theatre, or simply a tax break; on the occasion ticket buyers buy tickets as treats or luxurious indulgences; season subscribers or regular goers could be sincerely appreciative of the nuances of theatre, see the organization as a relevant community space, or simply all of the above above. Needless to say, a purchase decision is complex and highly subjective so I shan’t profess that I’ve got it distilled into its elements.

One thing is clear though: buying a ticket to watch a theatre is not as simple a decision as buying a ticket to watch a movie. Neither art forms are mutually exclusive, but both are competing for our time and money. I bring up movies because with the cheap proliferation of cinematic media, going to see the theatre is more expensive and therefore considered luxurious by a more practical society. Theatre is largely perceived as high brow. To me, this is theatre’s double edge.

But what I am personally struggling with, in trying to figure out a financial and brand model for COLLAB Theatre Ensemble, the new Singapore theatre company I set up with 7 other actors, is how do you make/create a theater product that is relevant – commercial and community-wise? We’re lucky that there is a growing number of young Singaporeans (X, Y, and Z generations) who value theater as a social space for voicing and hearing alternative points of view. But theater nonetheless remains a subject for those who are excelling academically or have free extra-curricular time outside of class, those who can drop $30-$100 for a ticket, those who understand the abstract – it’s still considered pretty high brow in the Singapore mass market.

I’m convinced that to create a financially viable (not commercially viable) theatre organization, we need to be relevant to the community. Some companies use humor (some low brow, others more “sophisticated” with flying rigs and all) others use celebrities and TV stars (i.e. glitz and glamor) to pique interest and access minds. We’ve also seen companies explore specific themes targeted at specific communities (remember those few years where everything on stage was about a gay issue?). The success and failures of these individual experiments is the litmus test, so there is no need to superimpose my own aesthetic sense or the value of the trajectories (in some cases, tragic-tories) that they eventually took.

I do know that the theatre I want to be part of looks past the glitz and glamor, into what is relevant and true. It has to touch the heart, our sensibilities and hopefully incite some kind of change (change in aesthetic appreciation, change in thought, change in status quo, change in sensibility, change in inertia). This, I suppose, is draft one of my artist manifest.

Post Script: Would love to hear your thoughts on the relevance of theatre to you personally, be it if you’re a regular theatre goer, or a theatre newbie

Billy goats grazing in the middle of Downtown LA greeted me one Wednesday as I emerged from the Pershing Square Metro Station.

Goat with a view

How about a hipster karaoke competition  at Royal-T, where the waitresses look as if they walked out of an anime novel? There was this crazy good girl who sang all these 70s and 80s rock songs (with a get up to match).

But when it comes to asking for your soul…LA might just ask for that too.

Soul for cash

Or just your sense of humor…I hope.

]]> http://shouck.com/2009/07/31/i-3-la/feed/ 0 shouck Goats in Downtown LA2 Goat in Downtown LA KTV-Party-Pocketo Soul Storage Company http://shouck.com/2009/07/14/portable-screening-day/ http://shouck.com/2009/07/14/portable-screening-day/#comments Tue, 14 Jul 2009 18:09:39 +0000 shouck http://shouck.com/?p=516 Continue reading →]]>

Image from Portable Film Festival website

Tell me, isn’t this cool?!  Portable Screening Day, organized by the The Portable Film Festival:

The Portable Film Festival, now in its third year, is an international festival of film and user created content. It works in the same way as other film festivals – the only difference is that it is delivered completely online and distributed through portable video devices. Anyone with an Internet connection of modest ability can access all programs curated by the Portable Film Festival for free and unlimited download to a laptop, iPod, PSP, or 3G capable mobile phone. Just log on, register, and start downloading.

You don’t need big screens or big theatres to have an interactive, social movie screening experience, but the festival still draws people out from behind their personal computers into public spaces for a collective experience. Not to mention bypassing censorship laws. There are calls for people to host in Singapore, there was even one hosted in Mongolia. That’s pretty nifty.

Visitors are invited to walk through clear paths spliced through the painstakingly organized rubble ranging from dusty phonographs to old shopping bags. You see worn-out kung fu shoes, placed alongside tacky 80s white pumps, juxtaposed with more modern looking sports shoes. You find a large collection of old plastic soda liter bottles, old stoves, large teddy bears, a cupboard stacked quarter a meter high with old medicine packaging. You wonder where the heck did she find the space to store all these items. At a far end of a wall near the ceiling, the words 爸爸，别担心，我们和妈妈都挺好的。Papa, don’t worry, we and mom are all doing well glowed in neon blue lights. This installation started as an attempt to help his mother cope with the grief of her husband’s passing in 2002. She too has since passed away. 物尽其用 has the lyrical sentiment  of a Mahler-esque requiem.

Walking through the exhibition, these innocuous commercial products lose their cold, industrial edge. In its place, I  realize that each of these items were dearly valued, some probably loved. The human and history behind each of these material, commercial items was haunting. Amassed over 50 years, I could almost trace the modern Chinese’ journey from Mao to now. Poor to rich. Each item, each nearest, slightest possession was luxury. A value that can’t possibly be compared with the spoils that we modern urban folk throw out a daily basis.

As I lingered in the installation, longer than I did for the Matisse or Picasso, I eavesdropped on what others were saying. Wow, I guess I’m not so bad compared to her. How did she keep all this stuff. This can’t be the real frame of the house. It felt like a flea market of sorts.

Yet seeing these items laid out in a New York City building, surrounded by people foreign and touched by a tribute of a stranger, I felt a strange and ironic familiarity. Off-white electric hot water boilers that you have to pump by  hand. Beautifully designed shopping bags that I could always count on getting from my 二姨, who kept them even though they had accomplished the task of transporting her purchases safely home. Metal mooncake boxes my 大姨 would keep just because they were pretty. Modest wooden framed beds with rock hard mattresses, exactly the ones I slept in whenever I stayed over with my aunts. Dark, unfinished wooden cupboards emptied and moved when my grandfather passed away.

Sometimes material possessions do mark a life.

Within hours, hordes of fans rushed down to the medical center to show their support. All the major pop/rock stations here are playing his songs. Cars are blasting his tunes as they cruise down the road. The media is going crazy. I saw no less than 6 news helicopters in the air.

I went down to UCLA Medical Center (I know I know, I shouldn’t have, it’s a medical center, people need to do their jobs) around 5pm. The crowd wasn’t as “overwhelming” as the media’s been saying, I would say about 200-300 people were spread out. But I think as people are getting off work the crowd will continue to grow.

This video is of the crowd, to give you a sense of what’s happening on the ground.

The group would continue to sing and chant “Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson.” There’s definitely something electric in the air. In memory, there’s a sense of affirmation of Michael’s impact and forgiveness for his tribulations. I dare say this is going to be a media event as big as Princess Di’s passing (sorry, that was the media studies student in me).

And me

I can’t say I’m the biggest or most loyal fan, but I grew up with his music. My primary school music teacher would make us sing “Heal the World”  during our monday morning assemblies. I remember jamming to Black or White with my brother when music still came in tapes. I remember my college freshman roomie blasting MJ’s songs, on repeat. MJ will remain an icon of my childhood. His passing will likely represent a close of an era for anyone who grew up in the 80s and early 90s.

Fact: the Merlion is not a Singapore legend but a symbol owned by the Singapore Tourism Board, which has “all intellectual property rights (including design rights or copyright, trade mark rights and other forms of intellectual property rights) interest and title” in it. 

In Singapore, there was an incident where the residents of Ang Mo Kio were asked to forced to remove a pair of unauthorized Merlion statues erected in the town. I couldn’t find The Straits Times article. but according to this article  (looks like an Elias Pri School project), there were “a pair of Merlions at the entrance to the carpark leading to Blocks 217 – 220 along Ang Mo Kio Avenue 1. They served as mascots for the Resident’s Committee there. Made of pink perino marble, the pair of Merlions is 2.5 metres tall. They were made in China in 1998 and cost $30,000.”

But out of Singapore, the Merlion takes on its own life . (I’ll let someone else with more poetic talent take this one) Aside from working the streets of LA, the Merlion in America has another incarnation: there’s a restaurant in Cupertino, California (Silicon Valley area) called the Merlion Marketplace. They have many many Merlions there, including one big one outside and one inside, safe from  lightening bolts. 

The biggest Merlion in Singapore is the one sitting in Sentosa (it apparently cost $8 million dollars to build, but once again, this is from the Elias Pri School report…).

Sidetrack: before it became an island resort, Sentosa was known as Pulau Belakang Mati. In Malay, the name means the “Island (pulau) of Death (mati) from Behind (belakang). Check this link out for some interesting public compiled information about its history. It’s a really interesting read, but can anyone verify the credibility of the information? I’d love to read more about Singapore’s pre-colonial past and the folklore associated with it, and preferably untainted by tourism marketing please.