Deliberate Lightning

"SANBASO, Divine Dance"
Mansai Nomura + Hiroshi Sugimoto
Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum
New York, NY
March 29, 2103

By Martha Sherman
Copyright © 2013 by Martha Sherman

Traditional Japanese theater, set in space and silence, hints at hidden treasures. For “Sanbaso,” the classic noh and kyogen work offered by collaborators Mansai Nomura and Hiroshi Sugimoto, the Guggenheim Museum’s spiral atrium offered an evocative modern twist. The work, based on ancient Shinto rituals and performed in a tradition over 600 years old, filled the dramatic setting with haunting dance and music that seemed both ancient and contemporary.

Traditional Japanese music and performance are not unfamiliar to New York audiences, but their exotic vocabularies remain mysterious. “Sanbaso” is part of a classic trilogy, and is constructed of a deliberate procession of performers down the walkway, a pair of linked solo dances, and an equally deliberate recessional walk. In between the lines of this simple design, the mysteries of the music, movement, and ritual echo.

Nomura, a master from a distinguished performing family (his father and grandfather were both Living National Treasures) danced the central solo, two scenes of flowing movements that alternated between steely calm and high energy. The intensity of each movement, as well as his unblinking stare, placed him in a mythic realm. Slowly circling the stage, he gestured with a pointed fan or fingers. A flip of his arms twisted the huge sleeves of his kimono symmetrically around his forearms. The deliberate pace of the movement weighted each pause and step with meaning and promise; it seemed to matter whether he turned left or right, even if we didn’t know why. A squatting jump, both legs bent and powerful, became a shocking highlight.

A musical prelude to the dance introduced the rhythm and tone in a trio by Rokurobyoe Fujita on the Fue (the noh flute) and Keinosuke Okura and Atsushi Ueda on the large and small hand drums, The sharp report of the large O-tsuzumi hand drum set the pace; the flute’s shrillness set the pitch (when it shrieked, we sat up straight, realizing that attention must be paid.) Even when they left the stage to make way for the main drama, the echo of the sounds came from the stairwell, haunting and otherworldly.

Sugimoto’s design elements framed the action, and though minimal, they filled the atrium rather than being dwarfed by it. A simple raised white stage covered the main floor; a series of wall hangings floated above, dangling from the low curves of the gallery’s spiral. The curved ramps of the spiral also became the traditional long walkways, where the slow processional entrances and exits of the performers give the space a key role in the tale. Although most stagings of the traditional work have a pine tree in the backdrop, Sugimoto designed these wall hangings with stylized lightning bolts instead. Each sprouted electric currents that also looked like complex tree root systems, connecting the work to its performance history as well as the ancient myths.

The magnificent kimono costumes, also by Sugimoto, were eye-popping. In a rich green robe covered with cranes and flowers, the first dance soloist, Shuichi Nakamura, prepared the way for his teacher and master, Nomura. Nomura’s kimono echoed the banners in the hall, slashes of lightning on a deep blue background. He commanded everything. All of the performers, musicians, and vocalists wore simple gray kimonos with angular, wide shoulder lines. Their simplicity highlighted the glorious colors and patterns of the dancers’ robes and fans.

For Nomura’s second scene, he knelt with his back toward the audience. A silent stagehand held a ritual box and offered props, a set of handbells and a black mask, the face of an old man. Even the way Nomura tied the mask’s cords evoked his identity and mastery. Turning to us, his scary masked face was accompanied by a newly high-pitched vocal shriek, and the music transformed along with the man.

Nothing was approximate; nothing improvisational. Each movement, gesture, facial expression, tone was fraught with centuries of history; it was both an anchor and a cage; they – and we – were trapped in this history. After he’d completed the dictated movements, the audience silently watched as Nomura deliberately untied the mask, and returned it to the box. In the company’s dignified final procession up the ramp, we held our collective breaths. His back toward us at the top of the ramp, Nomura flicked his arms one last time; a perfect flip of those voluminous sleeves.

copyright © 2013 by Martha Sherman

Photos by Enid Alvarez

Top:  Mansai Nomura and company in SANBASO, Divine Dance
Bottom: Mansai Nomura and company in SANBASO, Divine Dance