[Feature: New Year's Dialogue] New Year's Dialogue: Aiming for a Juku with Tradition and Innovation

Happy New Year.

Happy New Year.

To start the year, we are joined by Mr. Otoshige Sakai, a Noh actor and a designated holder of Important Intangible Cultural Property. The first time I saw Mr. Sakai perform was on November 7, 2008, when a celebratory Takigino (torchlight Noh) for the 150th anniversary of the founding of Keio University was held at the Mita Campus. The play was "Tsuchigumo" (The Earth Spider). At the time, I was serving as the Dean of the Faculty of Letters, and I watched from the moment then-Vice-President Norikazu Kudo lit the firewood with a torch as dusk approached. With the 150th anniversary ceremony scheduled for the following day, presidents from various universities overseas were visiting as guests, and local residents were also invited. I remember it as a very lively and impressive gathering.

I later heard that when Keio University celebrated its 90th anniversary in 1947, your father, Otojiro Sakai, who served as the chairman of the Nohgaku Performers' Association, responded to student requests by performing the same play, "Tsuchigumo." During the post-war reconstruction period, he wanted to energize Japan through culture and share Keio's scholarship and culture, thereby supporting the students. I feel a deep connection here. Looking back now, how was that celebratory Noh performance for the 150th anniversary of Keio University?

The Takigino was held at the Mita Campus, which is lined with historic buildings. Takigino is an event where the audience can immerse themselves in Noh in the natural air and spend a moment of eternity. While there are various reinforced concrete buildings on the hill at Mita, one can still sense the beauty of tradition and nature in the tall trees, centered around the Ginkgo Tree in the Quad. While performing, I felt very comfortable and grateful on stage.

I believe there is great significance in sharing Japanese traditional culture from a university campus. This is because Noh, which was born in the Muromachi period, has a history of 650 years, has been passed down continuously, and is alive today. It is wonderful to have people from overseas witness such cultural value. I thought the philosophy of reflecting on Japanese tradition within the 150-year journey of the Juku was truly magnificent.

That is exactly right.

The play "Tsuchigumo" is relatively easy to understand visually. It is a story from the Heian period where members of a tribe oppressed by (Minamoto no) Raiko appear as the spirit of the Earth Spider to vent their resentment against him. Curiously, in the world of Noh, the spirit of the Earth Spider appears in the form of a monk. The spirit, disguised as a monk, attempts to kill Raiko by throwing thousands of strands of spider silk at him.

The Earth Spider was originally a tribe on Mount Katsuragi that resisted the Yamato Imperial Court, but the tribe itself was wiped out, leaving behind their resentment. However, a good aspect of Japan is that even after something is destroyed, it isn't just left that way; a kind of spiritual aftercare is performed. There is a play called "Katsuragi" which enshrines the deity of Katsuragi and asks it not to cause any more curses. It is a Noh play that expresses the Japanese spiritual structure of requiem and salvation. In Europe, those who lose are thoroughly oppressed. I believe Japan has a kindness of heart that seeks to revere even the defeated as a deity in some way.

As the President mentioned earlier, after Japan lost the war, the 90th anniversary of the Juku was held in 1947. It was decided to hold various student events at the Imperial Theatre, which had survived the war damage, and to include traditional Kabuki and Noh. Actually, my younger sister had passed away just before that, but my father kept that fact from the students and staff and practiced from morning until night.

It was an overwhelming honor to perform such a memorable play on the hill at Mita for the 150th anniversary, in the presence of guests from overseas. After the performance, around the time the clock was about to strike midnight, I had the opportunity to speak with the university presidents from abroad. They all said it was wonderful, so I felt I had fulfilled one of my responsibilities.

It was truly a memorable event. As you just said, the approach where a being with deep-seated resentment is not just something to be conquered through the triumph of good over evil, but becomes an object of requiem, is indeed unique to Japan.

With you performing as the Shite (lead actor), you first showed the resentment through quiet, still forms with little movement, and then in the second half, there were movements that were brilliant and visually striking. I believe the guests from overseas were impressed by this essence of Japanese art and Noh—the transition from stillness to motion. I think they were able to sense a Japanese spiritual world that is different from Western opera and the like.

Furthermore, the hill at Mita is such a spiritual home for those associated with Keio University that the lyrics of the "Keio Sanka" include the phrase "the hill at Mita, our second home." I believe that performing a celebratory Noh play at the hill at Mita was a precious event that will remain in the history of Keio University.

Even before that, you were directly involved in the education of students through the Freshman Welcome Noh sponsored by the Keio Research Center for the Liberal Arts at Hiyoshi and your guidance of the Keio Kanze-kai. In recognition of your many years of contribution, including these activities, Keio University awarded you an honorary doctorate in 2013. In fact, in our long history, you are only the sixth Japanese person to be awarded an honorary doctorate by Keio University.

I am humbled by such an honor.

I would like to ask if there is anything from your own days as a student that remains strongly in your memory.

In my case, I have been at Keio since the Yochisha Elementary School, but since I have been practicing Noh since I was about three years old, I couldn't devote myself exclusively to academics. From a young age, I had to do my schoolwork, and when I went home, I had to practice for the stage.

After the war was lost and Japan was in ruins, students who had been mobilized for the war effort returned from overseas, didn't they? At that time, everyone was interested in things like Yokyoku (Noh chanting). Perhaps when humans are pushed to the limit, they crave a kind of cultural enrichment. Having returned to their homeland and facing situations where their values were being questioned, they began to seek Japanese classics like chanting and Noh. Unlike Western theater, these ultimately provide salvation for one's own inner heart.

Therefore, when foreigners create works based on Japanese theater, the ending somehow feels different. Brecht's "The Yesman" (Der Jasager), which was based on the Noh play "Taniko," ends in death. However, Japanese works always have a soul somewhere, and there is salvation within that. This is the cultural difference between the West and Japan. I believe those who experienced extremes during the war noticed this.

At the time of the 90th anniversary of Keio University, His Majesty (Emperor Showa) visited this hill. Unlike other universities, Keio has deep human bonds that bring people together tightly for such anniversary events. I felt that there is a strong sense of solidarity unique to Keio University.

My father's thoughts during the 90th anniversary, his thoughts for the senior students, and then my own performance at Mita for the 150th anniversary... while the form of Keio University is unchanging, it undergoes various transformations. I think it is like a single nervous system. I wonder if this is the independence and self-respect that Yukichi Fukuzawa envisioned. If people who strive for excellence gather in such an environment, they can weave together. In that sense, I am glad I graduated from the Juku.

The reason the name Keio University includes "Gijuku" (private school) was the idea that private volunteers who share a common philosophy would work together to build the school. Furthermore, that form was called a "company" (sha), and from there, Keio students, Keio University alumni, and faculty and staff—all related parties—gathered to form the Keio Gijuku Shachu. From this emerged the momentum to support Keio University through the spirit of Shachu cooperation. As you say, I believe a characteristic of Keio University is that the bonds between graduates and related parties are very strong.

Looking at the Mita-kai, there is probably no other university in Japan with such a flourishing alumni organization. There are Mita-kai all over the country and even overseas, and there is a tradition of contributing to the community and supporting their alma mater while deepening their friendships. Currently, there are 800 Mita-kai in Japan and 70 overseas. The founder, Yukichi Fukuzawa, intentionally valued jinkan kosai (society) and put effort into social interaction himself. He was also the founder of Kōjunsha, Japan's first authentic social club.

In his writing "An Essay on Road Repair in Buzen and Bungo," he left the words: "The most important thing in the world is the interaction and association between people. This is itself a field of study." When there was a gathering of graduates in the provinces and he was invited, he would readily agree and go. Then, graduates in various regions would gather around Yukichi Fukuzawa and have a great time. I believe this tradition since the founding continues today in the strength of the bonds between graduates and the spirit of Shachu cooperation.

I felt that the fact that you and your father performed "Tsuchigumo" at the Juku across generations and supported the students is also a reflection of that tradition of human connection at Keio University.

I completely agree.

Another thing, I found the comparison you made earlier between Noh and Western theater very interesting. This is true for both Japanese theater and literature, but when looking at humans, there is no absolute good or evil; both good and evil can transform. Based on the recognition that both good and evil exist within a single person, humans are viewed multi-dimensionally. I felt that this might lead to the idea of ultimately being "saved."

In the case of the West, tragedies end as tragedies. The same is true for "Hamlet." That protagonist meets an unhappy death. However, in the case of Noh, even if it is an unhappy death, something salvific is ultimately inherent, and I believe the audience can sense that. That is influenced by Zen teachings, Shinto, and various aspects of the Japanese religious outlook. I think that has been rooted in daily life for a long time.

Halloween has become completely rooted in Japan. I went to Washington, D.C. in 1988, and after performing "Dojoji," I saw Halloween costumes for the first time. At that time, it was hardly known in Japan. I never thought it would become so established in Japan, with so many people appearing in costume in the middle of the city (laughs). So, perhaps Japanese people have a surprisingly voracious appetite for such things.

Looking at the Halloween excitement, I think we are good at taking things that come from the West and, regardless of their original essence, arranging them in a Japanese style and turning them into a festival. Valentine's Day has also become what could be called a national event in a form completely different from its original meaning in Europe.

In the Manyo period, the custom of Utagaki is introduced in works like the "Hitachi no Kuni Fudoki." In the spring when cultivation is about to begin, or in the autumn at harvest time, men and women in Hitachi would take lunch boxes to Mount Tsukuba and engage in a very brilliant and fun event of exchanging songs to woo each other.

It is said that Japanese people are serious and do not express much emotion in public, but if you look historically, there is a side that is good at switching gears. While there are periods of working hard on farm chores, there are also times during festivals where emotions are expressed explosively for enjoyment. I feel that this temperament is currently bursting forth in things like Halloween.

Festivals are like a root of religious sentiment. When life was not as blessed as it is now, there would be crop failures, and people would pray to the gods. I believe performing arts are born from such things. I think the national character of Japanese people to absorb a wide range of cultures is very precious.

Following the discussion on the differences between Japanese and Western culture, I would like to hear a bit about international cultural exchange. You have performed Noh all over the world and have made great contributions to international exchange through Noh. These include the Bordeaux Cultural Festival in France, the Third World Theater Festival in Seoul, South Korea, the "Daimyo Art Exhibition" sponsored by the Japanese and U.S. governments at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, and the "President Bush Inauguration Celebration Noh." For your achievements, such as the commemorative performances at the "Japanese Culture Festival in Russia 2003" held based on the basic agreement between the leaders of Japan and Russia and the "300th Anniversary of the Founding of Saint Petersburg," you have been awarded an Achievement Award and the highest medal of friendship that the state bestows on foreigners. In China, after performing at the Diaoyutai State Guesthouse and the Imperial Ancestral Temple in the Forbidden City during the 30th anniversary of the normalization of diplomatic relations between Japan and China, you have performed in China many times.

What is the reaction of overseas audiences when they see the human passions and the depth of karma expressed by Noh, and how those are then saved and reincarnated?

I performed "Sumidagawa" at the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow and the Mariinsky Theatre in Saint Petersburg. The president of the ITAR-TASS news agency was former Deputy Prime Minister Ignatenko, and I was shown to the VIP reception room where he said they would prepare a special press conference. I first told the person translating into Russian the synopsis of "Sumidagawa," then the highlights, and finally how the play ends.

Then, a very young man, about 23 or 24, asked, "With what thoughts do you perform the play 'Sumidagawa'?" When I said, "I just explained the synopsis," he replied, "No, that's not it. What I want to hear is how you, Mr. Sakai, understand 'Sumidagawa' and how you express it." Even in Japan, no one asks questions to that extent. I told him, "That's a good question. You are wonderful."

"Sumidagawa" flows between the east and west of Japan. In the past, it was a remote area, and crossing that river was a major undertaking, with many accidents occurring. When a woman from the capital follows her child's tracks, what she reunites with is the figure of her child inside a grave. It's about how great the mother's sorrow is, but a mother's sorrow is universal. In "Sumidagawa," the dew from the rain falls continuously, flows into the sea, and the river has been flowing majestically for hundreds or thousands of years. The story that took place at that Sumida River connects to the permanent human heart. Therefore, nature and the human heart become connected somewhere, and we must mutually recognize that tragedy. When I said that this is the overall image of "Sumidagawa" that I have in mind, he understood it perfectly.

What I find very interesting is that the story's content hasn't changed at all since long ago. As a Noh play, the forms and styles are the same. However, it becomes a different story depending on the performer. That young Russian man wanted to hear how the individuality and philosophy of each performer are expressed.

That's right. That is, after all, the essence of things and the sensitivity to watch an actor. It is naturally no good if it just ends smoothly exactly as taught, according to the form.

I am close with Valery Gergiev, the General Director of the Mariinsky Theatre in Saint Petersburg. He adjusted his busy schedule during a visit to Japan to come see my "Koi no Omoni," and he visited me in the dressing room and declared, "Noh expresses the abyss of the heart with slight movements." He introduces me to people in English as "my good friend."

I love Gergiev's conducting. When he conducts a performance, even if it's the same work, it sounds different when you hear it the next day. What he feels in his heart is transmitted to the audience. He might decide to restrain the sorrowful parts today and try to gouge out a little deeper, or place emphasis on the inner self in the climactic parts. There is always creativity and it is alive. I think a person conducting Bach should be different from day to day even with the same score. Noh, of course, must be the same way. It is the value of a once-in-a-lifetime encounter. However, an immature person must not do that. It is because it is something born out of tireless study and passion aimed at that goal.

Whether it's a violinist, a cellist, or a wind instrument player, a performance is possible because people who have polished their skills gather. Creating a symphony while drawing out the characteristics of those people is no simple task. In Noh as well, there is the Shite, the flute, the small drum, the large drum, the stick drum, and the Waki-kata (supporting actors), and while not a single word of the chanting is different, the most important thing is how to mutually share the content of the words of the chant—telepathy (ishin-denshin). It's not enough just to have communicated it loudly with your voice.

From the audience's perspective, eyes tend to go toward the Shite, who is at the center of the stage, but all the people around them support the stage, and a single work of art is created.

Yes. That's why it's often called a composite art. The musicians are the same, and of course the Waki. If even one of the Waki-tsure (accompanying actors) attached to the Waki is unskilled, the stage will be ruined and the tension will be lost.

What is created from that becomes a universal art that resonates with people of any nationality in the world. Even audiences who don't understand the language find something that strikes a chord. This must mean they can sense the joys and sorrows common to all humans.

That's right. For the Russian performance, I gave the Russian side both the literary style and the colloquial style, which they translated, and I gave them DVDs of my past performances. Then, they pointed out that the words of the ferryman in the Waki-kata's "Sumidagawa" differ depending on the school, and asked which was correct. In cultural exchange, that kind of process until the stage is completed is the most important thing. In that way, mutual understanding deepens.

This is the most important thing to do in cultural exchange. For example, if it's Russia, when we talk about things like Chekhov's "The Cherry Orchard," there are always points of contact. Then, they realize that what they thought was a bit different from the realism advocated by Stanislavski in Russia is actually not superficial acting, but the universal things within the performer's "inner heart," the expressive power of the important heart. In that way, I believe cultural power and a multi-dimensional perspective are indispensable for understanding each country.

An individual speaks about what they have acquired with their own dignity and confidence. Exchange can only happen when such people gather. If society can have such conversations between such people, then as Yukichi Fukuzawa said, we can create a single great understanding.

I have been performing in China every five years since the 30th anniversary of the normalization of diplomatic relations between Japan and China (2002). For the 30th anniversary, I performed Noh at the Diaoyutai State Guesthouse and the Imperial Ancestral Temple in the Forbidden City. A person I spoke with then and thought was someone who understood culture well was Mr. Zhao Qizheng, a State Councilor and Director of the State Council Information Office. He held the important position of a member of the Party's Standing Central Committee at the time. He was a surprisingly well-balanced person for China, and I was startled to learn that he is an atomic physicist who majored in nuclear physics at the University of Science and Technology of China.

Is that so? So he is a person from the sciences.

That's right. Surprisingly, people in the sciences tend to have a strong interest in cultural things.

At the end of last August, there was a meeting called the Japan-China 1,000 University Student Exchange Meeting in Beijing to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the conclusion of the Treaty of Peace and Friendship between Japan and China. 500 Chinese university students and 500 Japanese university students engaged in various exchanges at Peking University. On the final day, there was a ceremony where messages from Prime Minister Li Keqiang and Prime Minister Shinzo Abe were read. From Japan, then-Minister of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology Yoshimasa Hayashi attended, and I gave a congratulatory address representing Japanese university presidents. On the Chinese side, Minister of Education Chen Baosheng and Peking University President Lin Jianhua gave addresses. About 20 students from Keio University also participated. It was realized through the great efforts of Cheng Yonghua, the Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to Japan.

I was also invited to the ceremony for the 120th anniversary of the founding of Peking University in May, which was my first visit there in 30 years. Peking University 30-some years ago had a vast campus where students were relaxed, and when I went to the student cafeteria, they were eating with chopsticks from traditional bowls. However, when I went last year, the cafeteria menu was ordered via iPad, and payments were all done by smartphone—it was fully digitized. Peking University is a university where Lu Xun served as a professor and has traditionally been strong in the humanities, but I was surprised to see that the School of Medicine is now well-developed, and large research buildings for the sciences, such as a computer science center, are being built one after another on campus. Keio's School of Medicine has also begun authentic exchanges with Peking University's School of Medicine.

I heard that a Noh performance was also planned for last year's 40th anniversary of the treaty's conclusion.

Yes, based on a proposal from Ambassador Cheng Yonghua, with whom I have been close for 20 years, we held a joint performance of Noh and Shanghai Kunqu and Peking Opera as the finale of the 45th anniversary of the normalization of diplomatic relations between Japan and China in 2017. It was held at the National Noh Theatre in Japan on December 19 and 20 with the same program. Then, for the commemorative performance of the 40th anniversary of the conclusion of the Treaty of Peace and Friendship between Japan and China on September 26, 2018, I was asked to please perform Noh in China, so I headed to Xi'an.

Before the performance, I was very busy heading to Xi'an on May 28, 29, and 30 to decide on the performance theater and hold discussions with related parties. I spoke at length with the Xi'an Municipal Party Secretary, who hosted a welcome banquet and provided a dedicated special vehicle for three days. I thought that the banquets from the welcome dinner until returning home required physical strength as usual, but I also thought that close relationships of trust between people are born through such interactions.

That is Chang'an, the capital of the ancient Tang Dynasty.

That's right. I performed "Yang Guifei" there. At a university called Xi'an International University, there are quite a few people studying Japanese, so I gave a lecture there for about two hours. The vice president there was very enthusiastic, and the lecture was so crowded there was standing room only.

I heard there was also a Peking Opera performance in Xi'an this time. What was the reaction of the audience when Noh and Peking Opera were performed together in the same venue?

Peking Opera became popular during the Qing Dynasty. In other words, it took root in the capital, Beijing, but I have heard it originally developed in Anhui Province. During the Ming Dynasty, Kunqu (also called Kun opera), which is lyrical, beautiful, and meant for quiet appreciation, was mainstream. Chronologically, it is the same period when Noh was born, and Kunqu was designated as the first World Intangible Heritage along with Nohgaku.

Then, horse-riding nomadic tribes entered, and Peking Opera with its intense movements was created. The era is almost the same as Kabuki. Therefore, just like in Kabuki, they shout "Hao!"

When the Chinese audience can see both Noh, the representative of stillness, and Peking Opera, the representative of motion, all at once, they must have felt many things.

I have always performed together with Kunqu and Peking Opera. Peking Opera is also more about the singing than the watching. For Peking Opera, it was "The Drunken Concubine" (Guifei Zuijiu), with Yang Guifei as the protagonist. The person I always performed with was Mr. Mei Baojiu, a leading figure in the Peking Opera world whose father was the famous Mei Lanfang. The Mei school was famous for its superb performances of noblewoman roles. In Beijing, Mr. Mei Baojiu and I continued a heartfelt friendship over steak and wine. We also talked about our art for about 30 minutes on CCTV Channel 1. When he came to Tokyo, he would first say he wanted to see me, and we would have our customary dinner of red wine and steak. He was a little older than me and passed away at 82. That singing voice still remains in my ears, and my heart aches.

I think the audience was taken aback at first. My eldest son (Mr. Otomasa Sakai) is good at what is called a jumping seated position, where he jumps and lands on the stage from his waist. When he jumped two or three meters and landed perfectly, there was a thunderous round of applause. It's not a place where you're supposed to applaud, though (laughs).

Unlike Kabuki, there are no shouts of house names like "Nani-nani-ya" in Nohgaku.

Currently, how universities and students should live within globalization has become an issue.

Globalization feels like a wave that averages things out through common rules as people, goods, and money flow across borders. In that case, you can't survive unless you conform to global standards, but conversely, you will be buried if you don't have some kind of individuality.

I think this is common to the earlier discussion of "from form to individuality," and I believe judo symbolizes that. In the early days of internationalization, Japanese judo was very strong because it was Japan's specialty. However, as countries around the world began to do judo and an international federation was formed, rules changed rapidly. At one point, Japan claimed, "This is not judo." Things like the color of the judo uniform no longer having to be white, or points being deducted if you don't initiate a technique yourself.

Originally, judo is about protecting oneself from an enemy's attack, so attacking and defeating the opponent yourself is not the essence. However, no matter how much you say that, if the world's rules become that way, you have no choice but to follow them. Then, if you ask whether it's better to protect your isolated position domestically without participating in world championships or the Olympics, the answer is no. It is important to show the individuality of Japanese judo while conforming to global rules. Thanks to those efforts, Japanese judo has recently been able to excel again.

Universities are probably the same; it is necessary to show individuality while following global standards. I believe the individuality of Keio University is sending human resources of independence and self-respect into all fields of society, and that Keio graduates are always active in various parts of society. I think this kind of human resource development is our characteristic.

That is exactly right.

It is often said that Keio University is the Keio of the business world. Indeed, in the 2013 THE (Times Higher Education) university rankings, the Juku was ranked 9th in the world for the number of top executives produced for global corporations. However, not everyone goes into the business world; they are active in various fields. For example, in terms of the number of successful candidates for the Certified Public Accountant examination, Keio University has been number one in Japan for 43 consecutive years. In 2013, it achieved the record of being number one in Japan in both the number of successful candidates and the pass rate for the bar exam. Graduates are active in various fields such as politics, academia, the arts, and sports. I believe this is the individuality of Keio University.

In sports, more than 130 Olympic and Paralympic athletes have come from Keio. In particular, at the 1920 Antwerp Games, Kazuya Kumagai won silver medals in both tennis singles and doubles, which was actually the first-ever Japanese medalist. At last year's Asian Games, Keio students and Keio University alumni were also very active. Even looking only at gold medals, five medalists were born: Ryota Yamagata and Yuki Koike in athletics, Karin Miyawaki in women's fencing, Yuka Momiki in women's soccer, and Manami Doi in sailing.

In the Tokyo Big6 Baseball League, we narrowly missed a third consecutive title, but we won two consecutive seasons in the fall of the year before last and the spring of last year, and the high school baseball club has been active, appearing in Koshien in both spring and summer consecutively.

The president of the University of British Columbia in Canada is a person of Japanese descent named Santa J. Ono, and the baseball team there is a powerhouse that is the only school in Canada allowed into the U.S. college baseball league. When I met President Ono at an international symposium, he mentioned that he heard Keio is also strong in baseball and offered to bring his baseball team for a match, so they came last summer and played a friendly game.

What made me happy was that at that time, the baseball students and a volunteer team that students are forming for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics and Paralympics took the baseball students from the University of British Columbia to Kamakura and let them experience various aspects of Japanese culture. In other words, they also engaged in cultural international exchange together. The power to create cultural and human expansion through sports resonates with the spirit of the pen and the sword (bunbu ryodo) at Keio University.

Mr. Sakai, you are actively engaged in activities to disseminate and promote Noh to the world. How do you think Noh will be protected and change amidst globalization?

Noh was protected and nurtured by the Tokugawa Shogunate until the Meiji Restoration. Each domain was obligated to possess Noh masks according to its rice production (kokudaka), and it was also decided that they would employ actors and build Noh stages.

The Kaga Domain, for instance, had a million koku, so they had everything from costumes to actors. The Date Domain in Sendai continuously employed the Kita school, which was favored by Shogun Hidetada, while the Hosokawa Kanrei family employed the Konparu school. However, the Hosokawa family, wishing to adopt a form that would be pleasing to the Shogunate, also brought in the Kita school, saying they would employ two schools.

However, the Shogunate, with the idea of centralization, gathered the heads of all the schools in the center of Edo and gave them residences. The Shogun's instructor was of the Kanze school.

When transitioning from Edo to Meiji, the previous system was destroyed, so it must have been very difficult.

Indeed, with the abolition of domains and establishment of prefectures, who would guarantee Noh? In terms of Japanese culture, both the Imperial Court and the Forbidden Interior had departments in charge of Noh, and they were in a position to prepare stages and frequently held Tenran-no (Noh performances in the presence of the Emperor) in Kyoto. However, it seems the idea that they had to think of something for the survival of Noh did not occur to them. It was the same as destroying castles. They thought that if they possessed a Noh stage, they might be viewed with suspicion.

Empress Dowager Eisho, the birth mother of the Meiji Emperor, loved Noh. She had been singing it since she was a child. So, to comfort her along with His Majesty, Tomomi Iwakura built a Noh stage at the Aoyama Detached Palace after returning from the West with the mission. That was the catalyst for the revival of Noh.

After coming into contact with foreign cultures, the idea emerged that Westernizing Japan was not necessarily the prescription for becoming a modern state. Does Japan not have precious traditions and a soul that it has cultivated? Based on the philosophy that modernization and Japan's spiritual independence should consider the misfortunes of colonized Asian countries, the Westernized Rokumeikan culture vanished in an instant.

Noh actors who had been scattered were gathered to watch Noh at the Aoyama Detached Palace. Noh performers who had lost their stipends felt that if they came to Great Tokyo, they could manage somehow, so excellent supporting actors (wakishi), Kyogen performers, and musicians (hayashikata) gathered from all over the country.

Since the former daimyo were no longer daimyo, they adopted something like the foreign peerage system and began practicing Noh at the Peerage Club (Kazoku Kaikan). Then, many people who were itching to do it appeared. Consequently, Noh performances came to be held at the Shiba Noh Theater. This remains today as the Yasukuni Shrine Noh Theater.

So, when overcoming the crisis, you put effort into promotion, such as creating new forms or giving lessons to people who wanted to experience Noh and Utai (chanting). In that way, you made efforts to increase the number of people who understand it.

You cannot practice alone. If you want to try learning, you learn from a Noh performer of the time. Then, comrades are born who want to enjoy it together. And from within those practice sessions, recitals are held. In the Meiji era, it gradually permeated in this manner. The most enthusiastic were the merchants. They would practice together through their associations with people in important national positions. Individuals even began to build their own Noh stages.

However, what was left behind was the schools. The Meiji government created official schools, but for music, they put Western music in the curriculum. They did not include Noh, the national art that was considered a "pillar of cultural promotion" in the Muromachi period and positioned as "shikigaku" (ceremonial music) in the Edo period, as part of education. This is indeed a problem. Therefore, in 1937, when my father started, he decided that young people should experience such traditional performing arts, and the very first place he went was the Kanze-kai at Keio University.

I think that is indeed significant. Since national education in the Meiji era focused on Westernization and enriching the country and strengthening the military (fukoku kyohei), school education also emphasized physical education and martial arts, and did not incorporate much traditional culture.

Only Western music was incorporated into school education. However, after the war, Noh was included in the Ministry of Education's curriculum guidelines for a long time. At one point, it disappeared for 20 years. The cause was multiple-choice tests. The result was the collapse of classroom discipline.

Saying this won't do and that it should be included, finally from 2002, Noh was included in the curriculum guidelines consistently from elementary school to junior high and high school. Initially, the pretext was to study Japanese traditional instruments, but the Kyogen play "Kaki Yamabushi" was included in elementary school Japanese classes, and supplementary readers on "What is Noh" appeared in junior high school Japanese and social studies. In high school, it is treated as Japanese history and Japanese classics.

Noh chanting (utai) was included as one subject in elective music classes, and you can get points for chanting it. But there are no teachers to teach it. The curriculum guidelines will change in the year of the Olympics and Paralympics, so at that time, I believe we must position it as part of Japan's cultural dissemination and incorporate classical performing arts like Noh into school education.

As part of the activities of the NPO Hakushokai, I conduct visiting classes and lectures, hoping to follow up on parts that cannot be done in school education. Besides performing on stage, I believe that thinking about the future of Noh and promoting and disseminating it domestically and internationally is an urgent duty for those who perform Noh, which was recognized as the first UNESCO Masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity.

I completely agree. For the Tokyo Olympics and Paralympics, Keio University has partnered with the British BOA (British Olympic Association) and BPA (British Paralympic Association), and the British delegation will hold a pre-games camp at the Hiyoshi Campus. At that time, we don't plan to just lend the space; we plan to conduct projects where students from our affiliated schools and university students can engage in coaching and sports science research together, and explore how we, as an institution of learning, can be involved in the Olympics and Paralympics. Originally, the ancient Olympics were a festival of physical education and art.

Noh has also been certified as a support program for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics and Paralympics. In that context, I think how we disseminate Japanese culture is extremely important.

That's right. Our NPO Hakushokai received certification for the "Tokyo 2020 Official Cultural Program," which is specified in the Olympic and Paralympic Charter. We are currently at the stage of considering how to leave something valuable as a legacy from this year to next year and transmit it to the future.

The issue of education was mentioned, and while strengthening English education is being discussed in terms of developing human resources who can succeed globally, we must keep in mind that Latin was the common academic language in medieval European universities, which made academic exchange easy. At the same time, we must recognize that English is a skill, and we must be able to correctly transmit our own country's history and culture abroad; it's pointless if we don't have the content to transmit.

Now, technologies such as AI and robotics are advancing rapidly, and there are voices saying that technology might threaten humanity. Certainly, in terms of using vast amounts of data to derive logical conclusions, AI will surpass humanity. On the other hand, when a situation arises where past data is useless, humans must mobilize their sensitivity, intuition, or intelligence to respond to unexpected situations. I believe the role of higher education institutions, especially a comprehensive university like the Juku that has traditions in both the humanities and sciences, is to foster human resources capable of achieving harmony between technology and humans.

Cross-cultural understanding is not just about understanding the other party, but also about properly conveying one's own culture and peacefully overcoming friction when it occurs between different cultures. I believe this relates to the "jinkan kosai (society)" emphasized by Yukichi Fukuzawa. This by no means means that everyone should just get along and have fun; in "Gakumon no susume (An Encouragement of Learning)," he says that industry, law, and scholarship are all things done for the sake of jinkan kosai (society), and without it, scholarship is useless. He also argues that as social interaction increases, human sentiment softens and people do not lightly go to war.

By practicing "jinkan kosai (society)" throughout the world, we can prevent conflict; this could even be called a political philosophy. Within Keio University, which holds such traditions, students have protected the tradition of Noh across the ravages of war, supported by others, and this has connected to current students. I hope that students will grow who can wisely respond to the changes of the times while inheriting tradition.

I think the same applies to students, but in Japan as a whole, we must root the ability for individuals to act and think based on their own thoughts starting from early childhood education.

Fortunately, because I had Noh, I have been studying it since I was small. I read books and thought about what I myself should think and what kind of things I should talk about with others. It's not about pushing one's own feelings, but mutual understanding is born through talking. That's why I believe teaching and nurturing are the most important things. Looking at current early childhood education, it might be fine that mothers raise their children very dearly, but I have some concerns about how they are being raised.

Another thing is that things might change as we enter the era of AI. There is a Noh play called "Adachigahara." That is the legend of the demon hag of Michinoku. What on earth is the secret of that sleeping chamber? Perhaps it was something that person experienced and was reflecting upon. The wind howls in a solitary house in Michinoku where the autumn blast blows. There, a woman kindly lets someone stay for a night. I believe the narration of this story changes with the times, even if the internal forms (kata) remain the same.

Notes haven't changed since the time of Bach, but the methods of expression become deeper. Modern Noh must never be performed lightly. I often use the word "protect." Then there is another thing, "break." Even if the form is exactly as taught from long ago, at some point you start to make a different interpretation. Then, it feels a bit like "breaking." It's saying, this piece is like this, but this is how I see it.

When I read Zeami's books, they are not that difficult. They describe how to develop the skills and artistry of an actor and how to aim for those heights. So, depending on how you read it, it also resonates with innovation in manufacturing and business management.

That is very interesting. When the Meiji government translated "education" as "kyoiku," Yukichi Fukuzawa strongly opposed it, saying it should be translated as "hatsuiku" (growth/development).

Ah, I see.

He said that "education" is about drawing out what a person inherently has inside, so it is "hatsuiku" where one grows by oneself, just as a gardener applies only as much water as necessary to let a tree's inherent power grow.

Nowadays, people talk about individuality, but if one just acts selfishly with only individuality, one cannot learn. In that sense, one must first properly learn the "form" (kata). Then, once the basics are established, one lets what they have manifest from there. That can be drawn out by a master or teacher, or one might notice it oneself and create something new. Therefore, when both education to learn the basics properly and "hatsuiku" to grow oneself are present, it becomes truly good human resource development. This might be the same in both the world of Noh and the world of the university.

As President Haseyama says, I believe such things were at the foundation of Yukichi Fukuzawa's spirit.

I think independence and self-respect truly means that. If I were to express the education and traditions of Keio University in one word, everything might be condensed into the phrase independence and self-respect.

Thank you very much for your time today.