Noh more Japan

I remember once on the last morning of a particularly good summer holiday in Turkey, having a swim and being overcome by an unbearable feeling of sadness. The thought that it would be another year before I would once again be on holiday was almost unbearable.

With more frequent holidays, that feeling has diminished, but this morning I woke up and I felt it once again.

Two weeks ago, I was full of nerves about this big trip all on my own. I know I’m a big boy now but the thought of going halfway around the world, with just a pocket full of Yen and an itinerary, made me nervous. It has been the most wonderful experience, and the good thing was that today, as the last day, was one of the best.

This morning I hopped onto the tube to go to the National Theatre. I’m a bit of a master of the tube now. The Ginza line, Marunouchi line, Tozai line Hibiya line, Hirohito line, Twankey line - I’ve been on and off all of them with my faithful travel card provided loaded with cash by my travel agents.

The performance was a sort of kabuki for beginners, and my heart sank as I walked up to the front of the National theatre on what was a very hot morning to see crowds and crowds of people in school uniform. I have memories of having to play performances of Hamlet at the Young Vic in London at 10 am in the morning for schools audiences. They’re not good memories. In fact I seem to remember it used to take me three Benson and Hedges just to warm up in those days.

But this is Japan. Yes, they are rowdy, but the minute they’re in the theatre, they are perfectly well behaved. I get an audio guide with an earphone that will give me simultaneous translation and we get two actors who take us through what is quite an amusing introduction to kabuki showing us the stage machinery and then we get an interval.

After which we get a kabuki performance. I think I grasped most of it.

There was this princess who was tied to a rock by a river outside the village as a sacrifice for an eight headed serpent. This other princess turned up, who may or may not have been another princess, but I think, in reality, turned out to be the eight headed serpent disguised as another princess. She ate the first princess. yes, you heard that correctly. Now, bearing in mind that this was a morning performance and I’ve still got jet-lag, I may have tested my eyelids for leaks at this point. Because suddenly there was a prince who had two swords, and who had come to sort out the princess who may or may not have been the eight headed serpent, and ended up getting the serpent to regurgitate the princess so that he could marry her. It’s the sort of Emmerdale of Japan really.

The movement was amazing. The music strangely hypnotic with a live band and singers on stage and beautiful use of the stage machinery which at the same time was breathtakingly simple and yet stunningly automated.

I had to dash at the very end as my guide was meeting me at 12:30 to take me to another theatrical engagement. My travel company have managed to book me a one-to-one Noh theatre session with a leading Noh theatre, actor,

He was probably around the same age as myself, and indeed said that he’d been a Noh actor for 45 years. Some people may say the same thing about me. No acting for 45 years. He performed a welcome for me on the stage, and then told me the history of Noh.

Just as Japan has two major religions - Buddhism and Shintoism, so in its theatre, it has two major forms. Kabuki and Noh. While kabuki performers have white painted faces, Noh theatre performers are masked.

Both tell old stories that originated funnily enough around round about the time of Chaucer and Shakespeare. And judging by the three old women in the Kabuki play’s opening scene, they have many of the same jokes.

Keishi, my tutor, then dressed me in Noh robes. No dressers here to fasten a pair of Levis. The costume was beautiful, cut from fabulous silks, but they are not made in any particular size. The costumes are assembled on the actor by two or three people with golden chords and Keishi took great pains to assemble my costume. Perhaps any dressers reading this might take note.

Obviously, as I have done several times in my career, I was going to be a noble Lord, or a member of royalty. Then he got out his box of Noh masks. He handled them with a reverence which was breathtaking to see. They were locked in a leather case with each mask in a silk bag wrapped in silk cloths. He took them out and held them delicately by the sides as he said that, in the hands of a

performer, the masks themselves were regarded as Shinto deities.

These masks made of wood and beautifully painted were 400 years old. He had a little velvet bag of velvet pads which he taped into the inside of the mask before then taking me to a mirror at the side of the stage and sitting me on a stool. There was a beautiful ritual where I held the mask, brought it up over my head and then placed my face behind it to assume the character while he tied the black braided cords that would hold it in place.

I’ve done a little mask work (some might say not enough .and my face has been far too much in evidence) but this ritualistic dressing was quite moving.

It was at this point that he told me I was no a beautiful young princess. It’s a long time since another man has said that to me.

He then guided me to the side of the stage, and with the traditional cry, the curtain was opened, and I shuffled onto the stage in my white one toe, Noh theatre socks. to make a ritualistic circuit.

The precise angle atwhich I had to hold my head, my arms, and my spine was quite agonising. The slow shuffle, sliding my feet, and lifting my toes on each movement was immensely tiring. I was in total awe of his ability. Let’s face it, he was brilliant and he obviously has a bus pass.

After a ritualistic removal of the mask, and placing it back into its silk bag, we knelt together and chatted about acting. When had we become actors? How did we like it? He was in awe of my television work, and I was humbled by his skills. He presented me with a beautiful book of photographs of Noh theatre and a perfect afternoon drew to a close.

The afternoon was possible, because I was provided with a brilliant guide and translator by the travel company.

Seiko was a joy to be with. She kept a watch over everything (Get it!!!!!) She had and endearing little habit that every time Keishi said something, she would draw in her breath noisily as though amazed herself before translating for me.

I had one treat left. A trip to the top of the Skytree tower. I took one look and thought - go for it. I even walked over a glass floor while I was up there and had a picture taken as a souvenir. Yes, I was that tacky.

And the final treat?

The tower was on top of a shopping mall and I had some Yen to get rid of.

This holiday was one of three I decided to take this year in order to find myself. Who am I? For the last 25 years I’ve been part of a couple. That’s now changed. It’s up to me to make sure that it is a change for the better.

I’ve surprised myself over the last two weeks. That’s because of Japan. It’s a country where people are noble, patient, respectful and want to help. That rubs off on you.

Sometimes in life I can be brusque. I’m very proud of saying not only do I not suffer fools gladly, I don’t suffer fools at all. I think the Japanese are a lot better about giving the fool a chance.

I hope as I get on my flight after a ridiculously early start in the morning, I can bring a little of that calm and contentment back with me. I have had to buy an extra bag. It would be a shame if all that was in it was some rather chic designer clothes.

The northern grammar school boy, who sang if you want to know who we are, we are gentlemen of Japan in The Mikado now truly knows what that phrase means.

And I think every day, I’d like to be a little bit more Japanese.

Thank you for reading.