Alternative Methods of Delivering Emotional Impact in Traditional Noh Theatre
Melissa Ueckert
11.8.2019
For as long as the ritual of theatre has existed in recorded history, and perhaps even before, the concept of characterization has remained a recognizable necessity intrinsic to the art form. It is common belief that individual characters are necessary to bring a story to life, and it is the interaction of these characters that furthers a plot. The Japanese tradition of Noh theatre serves as a prime example of this thought process, though perhaps in a less obvious manner. Developed by 14th century actor and author Kan’ami, and refined by his son, playwright Zeami, Noh has remained broadly true to its originally-established traditions. Of these traditions, perhaps the most recognizable trait of Noh theatre is the use of the mask. Within Noh plays, masks are only worn by the shite, the principle actor of the play. As a traditional Noh mask covers the entirety of the shite’s face, it is the responsibility of the actor to otherwise find alternative methods of creating a sense of individualistic character and delivering emotional impact in the absence of visible facial expressions. Multiple ways of doing so have become established parts of the method of Noh acting, using all available resources besides the human face. In Japanese Noh theatre, specific head and neck movements, body language, and vocal tones performed by the shite serve as alternative methods of delivering emotional impact in the absence of visible facial expressions.
As is the expectation of actors in traditional Noh theatre, it is imperative that the shite completely casts aside his own identity in favor of becoming entirely consumed by the character who he will portraying on not only a superficially physical level, but on a spiritual level as well. This endeavor is instigated before the play even starts, during the actor’s pre-show ritualistic preparations. In investigating this transformation of character, it must be understood that the traditional Noh stage is comprised of three primary parts: the main stage proper, or honbutai, and the bridge, or hashigakari, which are visible to the audience, and the mirror room, or kagami no ma, which is hidden from the audience’s view behind an ornate curtain. The kagami no ma functions more or less like the modern understanding of a dressing room, however its significance to the Noh actor goes far beyond simply serving as a place to put on a costume. The hashigakari connects the kagami no ma and honbutai, ushering the actor into the playing space, which is where it is typically understood that reality is suspended in favor of the world depicted by the play. However, it is in the kagami no ma that the actor’s true disconnection from reality arguably takes place. To understand the shite’s ability to so eloquently personify his mask, one must first grasp the detailed ritual in which he “becomes” his mask before the play begins. As detailed in The Noh Theater: Mirror, Mask, and Madness:
There is a large mirror in [the mirror] room, but in no way is it a conventional dressing room, for it is a place where the actor, already costumed in several layers of robes and a wig, puts on his mask and sits in front of the mirror to study the figure that he has made. In doing so he undergoes the process of becoming the character that he is to portray. Reflecting on his image in the mirror, he transcends his merely physical portrayal of the role and is spiritually possessed by the self that he will be personifying. In recognizing the image reflected in the mirror as someone else, the actor can enter into the hidden self of the person he is portraying. (Ishii 56)
Ishii then continues on to draw attention to the interpretation of the term kagami no ma. In Japanese, the term kagami translates in English to both the terms “mirror” and “god.” Furthermore, he states, a common Japanese phrase, kagami ni terashitemiru, translates as literally “to reflect on oneself in a mirror,” but also suggests “that in this process we may see our true or ideal selves in reflection.” (56) Therefore, it can be assumed that a sort of divine transformation of the self occurs within the kagami no ma. The actor suspends his own earthly existence in favor of assuming a spiritual mantle, an act Zeami deemed “monomane.” Monomane is so essential to the Noh performance that it transcends the limitations of physical acting. Monamane is meant to lift the Noh play from the restraints of earthly life and project it into a godly space. In regards to the intent of the Noh play, “Noh is not concerned solely with life as it is lived on earth by normal humans limited to worldly time and space; rather it portrays reality from a wider perspective, from a universal timelessness.” (Bethe & Brazell, Noh as Performance 18) In regards to the physicality of a character, “no matter how simple a movement, it serves adequately enough so long as it is infused with the ‘spirit.’” (Toyoichiro & Mulhern 78) It is after this point of spiritual transformation that the shite dons his mask, completing the conversion of character. At this point, the Noh play may begin.
Noh plays are so deeply rooted in tradition that most all aspects of production retain the same general framework from play to play. This includes everything from the number of characters in a scene, to the types of props the actors use, to the general plotline of the various Noh plays. In this manner, the stories of Noh plays most often adhere to the same general sequence:
The play begins with the waki, the supporting character, who is usually either a traveling monk or a courtier, announcing his intention of making a journey to a faraway place. He takes a few steps upon the stage and then announces that he has reached his destination. …Soon the shite appears on the stage, and the waki takes up his role as an interviewer who encourages the hero or heroine [played by the shite] to speak about the place and historic event associated with [the destination]. In the second part of the play, the shite appears before the waki as if in a dream, dressed as in the past, and acts out the event that is the subject of the play—an event which often ends on an emotionally charged and agonizing note. (Ishii 57)
This two-part structure has an inherent schematic built into it that allows for a very pronounced transitory development of the character being played by the shite. The first of the two parts of a Noh play arguably serves as a gentle way to establish the given circumstances of the story. Introductions made include the geographical location, the time period, the characters, and the dilemma that serves as the instigator of the plotline’s action. While some of these given circumstances are simply rattled off to the audience by way of the waki’s dialogue or the commentary of the chorus, it is the emergence of the shite into the playing space that is the most visual of the aforementioned introductions. The evolution of the shite’s character is usually a linear one, though do not take the term “linear” as used here to mean straightforward and predictable. Rather, it means that the development of the shite’s character has a marked beginning point and end point. This beginning point is the precise moment that the shite emerges from the kagami no ma and makes his way slowly down the hashigakari. The shite moves slowly and measuredly, with absolutely no movement of the head or neck, and frequently, with no movements of the hands or arms either. The shite’s straightforward stance keeps his mask at an even level, which in turn gives away no clue as to the actor’s depicted emotion. The reason that no emotional impact is felt is that it is shadows falling across the mask that are what seem to create the suggestion of emotion. Noh masks, “appear to change expression as the vertical inclination of the mask changes. Tilt the mask forward and it appears to smile; tilt it backwards and it appears sad.” (Lyons et al. 2239) Therefore, depriving the shite’s head and neck, and as such, the mask, of any vertical tilt or movement deprives the audience of any suggestion of emotion. This allows the audience to absorb the shite’s establishing appearance as a wholesome image without the bias of emotion. It can be considered that this neutral entrance is meant to allow the audience to connect with the spirituality of the shite’s character. Even though the shite’s entrance is so clean and unassuming, it may still hold spiritual significance, as, “no matter how simple a movement, it serves adequately enough so long as it is infused with the ‘spirit.’” (Toyoichiro & Mulhern 78)
Even as the story of a Noh play progresses from the shite’s entrance, movements by the shite in the first part of Noh plays remains simple and gentle, as there is not a significant amount of emotionally-charged action that will take place at this point. However, when the shite reaches the honbutai and interacts with other characters onstage that more noticeable movement begins to enter the shite’s body language. At this point, the significance of gesturing becomes apparent. As explained by Ishii, “within the world of the Noh stage the passions associated with the struggles of human relationships are presented through the symbolic language [of] gestures.” (44) The interrelationships of the shite with other characters call for increased action, but these movements need not be overzealous in nature. Rather, “small differences in details such as the exact height of the arms, the precise placement of the feet, and the tempo of movements, alter the impact of the gestures.” (Bethe & Brazell, Dance in No Theatre 30) Noh theatre endeavors to draw massive significance from physical minimalism, including through the actions of the performers. Simply put, “[No] is an aesthetic economy of exacting the maximum of effect from the minimum of action.” (Toyoichiro & Mulhern 79) The rigorous training of the Noh actor, as well as the intensive practice of spiritually assuming the character, are what allows for this intricate exchange of meaning.
However, this is not to say that there are no grand gestures in Noh theatre. On the contrary, as the second part of the Noh play commences, actions of the shite can become very pronounced. The dramatic apex of a Noh play may include subject matter such as a haunting, a retelling of a tragic death, or even a battle. All of these highly emotionally-charged events would call for equally pronounced head and body movements to adequately do the story justice. “An expression of a disturbed state of mind … requires swift movements,” (Savas 65), and “[martial] movements often occur in spurts with pauses between.” (Bethe & Brazell, Dance in No Theatre 31) Noh is rather unique amongst the various recognized forms of theatricality in that just as much reliance is put upon bodily choreography as it is on story-driven actions in order to progress the plot of a play. “Many shite roles … involve radical transformations during a play, often having their true identities concealed or disturbed at crucial points,” (Lamarque 161), and these transformations are sometimes not accompanied by any dialogue, therefore relying on the importance of emotionally-charged body language to suggest the change in pace. Similarly, just as movements of the body relay these ideas, movements of the head and neck of masked figures do so as well. During moments of heightened dramatic tempo during a Noh play, the shite also relies on his mask to further his characterization. Deliberate head and neck movements are made, as, “rigid motion of the head … [gives the mask] its animated appearance. Small movements of the actor’s head produce fleeting changes in the mask’s apparent expression,” (Lyons et al. 2) but harsh and quick jerks of the head allow severe shadows to fall on the mask’s face, massively dramatizing its perceived expression. These deliberate decisions on movement allow the audience to connect with the method of Noh acting that calls for the complete inhabitance of a character on a deep and visceral level.
Another important manner in which a shite may express his character’s individuality is through his tone of voice while delivering dialogue. As described by Toyoichiro & Mulhern, “Noh is an auditory art as well as a visual art.” (78) In this regard, it is a deliberate choice made by the shite to project a specific vocal tone:
Voice quality is one of the most enigmatic aspects of Noh … The sounds reverberate throughout the body producing a quality which can be pure or complex, static or flowing, intimate or powerful. This is achieved partially by tucking the chin back to make an unbroken, straight line from the crown of the head down the entire back. Then, as the breath is expelled by the diaphragm, it flows in a straight line through the vocal cords to the mouth cavity. (Bethe & Brazell, Noh as Performance 42)
Voices that begin with a more lackluster tone but increase in quality and eventually crescendo with power during a climactic moment ultimately serve as excellent ways to draw attention to the poignancy of specific moments in the play without needing grand production value. It is the deliberate intricate wavering between different tones that seems to inject personality into a character. This wavering is generally recognized as occurring between two specific “modes” of vocal quality – the melodic mode and the dynamic mode. While the melodic mode, “has a set musical scale” to give it a light, airy, and unassuming quality, “the dynamic mode, in contrast, swells certain sounds in heavy vibrato to create a tone quality of impelling intensity.” (Bethe & Brazell, Noh as Performance 43) Deliberately alternating between these two modes gives the Noh actor space for character development outside of the typical understandings of character development.
It is the synthesis of head and neck movements, body language, and vocal tone that allow the masked Noh actor to develop emotional characteristics in an otherwise emotionally-limited style of theatricality. In a theatrical construct where ultimate importance is placed upon inhabiting a character rather than simply portraying it, methods of depicting emotions without the use of facial expressions used by masked actors become systematically recognized across the Noh theatre form as a whole. It is these methods that have ensured Noh theatre’s place amongst historically-successful theatrical models as what is considered to be an enduring ritualistic practice.
Works Cited
Bethe, Monica, and Karen Brazell. Dance in the No Theater. Vol. 29, East Asia Program, Cornell University, 1982.
Bethe, Monica, and Karen Brazell. Nō As Performance: an Analysis of the Kuse Scene of Yamamba. Vol. 16, East Asia Program, Cornell University, 1978.
Ishii, Mikiko. “The Noh Theater: Mirror, Mask, and Madness.” Comparative Drama, vol. 28, no. 1, 1994, pp. 43–66. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/41153680.
Lamarque, Peter. “Expression and the Mask: The Dissolution of Personality in Noh.” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, vol. 47, no. 2, 1989, pp. 157–168., doi:10.2307/431828.
Lyons, Michael J., et al. “The Noh Mask Effect: Vertical Viewpoint Dependence of Facial Expression Perception.” Proceedings of the Royal Society of London. Series B: Biological Sciences, vol. 267, no. 1459, 2000, pp. 2239–2245., doi:10.1098/rspb.2000.1274.
Savas, Minae Yamamoto. “Feminine Madness in the Japanese Noh Theatre.” Ohio State University , HioLINK Electronic Theses and Dissertations Center, 2008.
Toyoichiro, Nogami, and Chieko Irie Mulhern. “The Monodramatic Principle of the Noh Theatre.” The Journal of the Association of Teachers of Japanese, vol. 16, no. 1, Apr. 1981, pp. 72–86., doi:10.2307/488966.
