Yoshi Oida: A Theater Artist Continually Crossing Borders

An opera singer living in Vienna named Akiko Nakajima told me she was doing "Madama Butterfly" in Japan and asked if I would direct it. That was the first time I received an invitation from Japan. In our business, if you don't get an invitation, there's nothing you can do (laughs). There is such a thing as self-promotion, but I'm bad at it, so I've never done it. I've been directing for 40 years, but this is my first opera in Japan.

The Agency for Cultural Affairs is supporting this as part of international exchange. This time, the set, costume, and lighting designers are German, Dutch, and French. The role of Sharpless is played by a singer from the UK, Pinkerton by one from Italy, and Kate is played by Sarah Macdonald, an American who has appeared in NHK morning dramas.

When you are used to seeing foreign faces abroad, it doesn't feel right to have Japanese people playing Western roles. So this time, I asked to have foreigners play the foreign roles and Japanese people play the Japanese roles, and we gathered people from various countries.

I was 65. I was asked if I wanted to direct at the opera in Aix-en-Provence, France, so I did a small opera.

Around that time in Europe, theater directors were starting to direct operas as well. That's why I was called, but I was praised with people saying, "Other theater directors all make impossible demands of the singers, but your direction is musical."

I wondered why that was, and I realized it was probably because I had practiced Noh. Noh involves singing, acting, and movement—it is, in essence, a musical drama. Therefore, I knew through Noh how a musical drama is constructed and how a singer should behave in one. I think that's why it was well-received.

I used to watch Noh and Kabuki when I was a child, but later I fell in love with Western theater and changed direction. But as I got older, I suppose I returned to the musical dramas I loved in my childhood.

Simply because I've loved it since I was a child. A maid would take me to see small Kabuki plays, Bunraku, or sword-fighting plays in Shinkaichi, Kobe, on weekday afternoons. My mother would call the school and lie, saying, "My son has a fever today and can't come to school" (laughs).

Anyway, I just loved theater. The first role I ever played was Ametajikarao-no-mikoto in "The Opening of the Heavenly Rock Cave" during a school play in first grade. In second grade of junior high, I used my New Year's money to buy the complete works of Shakespeare translated by Shoyo Tsubouchi. Then, from around age 15 or 16, I joined an amateur theater group in Kansai and started doing Chekhov and Molière.

When I saw a play by the Gekidan Mingei troupe for the first time back then, I was surprised because it actually got dark during night scenes, and you couldn't see the actors' faces (laughs). In Kabuki, water was represented by hanging silver paper and it stayed bright even at night, so I began to long for realist theater where real water actually appeared.

When I was in the first year of junior high, a Kyogen teacher used to come to a friend's house to teach, and that's where I started my Kyogen training.

The British director Peter Brook was looking for Japanese actors for "The Tempest" and asked the French literature scholar Rikie Suzuki if he could invite Hisao Kanze and Mansaku Nomura. However, it's impossible for Kyogen actors because their schedules are usually booked a year in advance. So, it was decided to look within Bungakuza, where Mr. Suzuki was serving as an advisor at the time, and I was chosen.

That's right. Then, two years later, I was invited to come and do theatrical research with an international group. As a member of the research center Brook had newly created, I did improvisational theater in places like Iran and Africa, touring all over the world.

I had wanted to be a director ever since I joined Bungakuza. Even with Peter Brook, since he hired me as an actor, I performed and studied while looking for a chance to direct.

That was given to me by Yukio Mishima. In 1960, Mr. Mishima directed a Shingeki play for the only time in his life at Bungakuza. It was Oscar Wilde's "Salome." Noboru Nakaya played John the Baptist, Kyoko Kishida played Salome, and I played the role of the young soldier Narraboth.

When I saw the costume, I was almost naked. I said, "Sensei, I can't wear this costume. My chest is like a washboard." He replied, "Then I'll make you my disciple, come with me," and he took me to bodybuilding. So I worked hard at bodybuilding, and occasionally when I met Mr. Mishima, he would say it was to build muscle and treat me to steak at Suehiro in Ginza.

Later, when I was going to France, he gave me a Jinbei as a parting gift along with a letter saying, "Even in London, wear this Jinbei and do not forget the Kamigata-style Japanese spirit." That was in June 1970, and since that incident happened in November of that year, I suppose he intended it as a memento.

That was because neither English nor French was understood in Africa. I always had a language barrier because of my Kansai accent. Speaking is an actor's trade, but I am clumsy and bad at mimicry. That's why I still can't speak well. I think it's a wonder I've managed to be an actor this long.

However, recently I played the role of Chishu Ryu in Yasujiro Ozu's "Tokyo Story" in France, and the reviews said my unique delivery of lines was very charming. In other words, my lack of skill has become my individuality.

Because I'm bad at mimicry, it ended up becoming something unique to me. I have a bad voice. But now that I'm over 80, I feel like I'm gradually starting to understand how to produce my voice. So I think I'm progressing bit by bit compared to the past.

It's definitely about relaxing. Also, as you get older, your memory gets worse, so rather than memorizing with your head, you have to repeat it many times and memorize it with your body. In Noh, they say don't speak with sounds, speak with Kanji. When you say "The sky is blue," you imagine the character for "Sky" and then the character for "Blue."

Exactly. This is different from the case of foreign languages.

Maybe it's because I've stopped caring about how the audience sees me.

There are three types of actors. Those who think they are wonderful and want to show that to the audience; those who observe themselves and show while exploring what kind of person they are; and another type, like Manzai comedians or clowns, who transform into something other than themselves to express.

But the current me has become indifferent to things like creating a role, getting into the character's feelings, exploring and expressing myself, or trying to make myself look good.

When I go on stage, I might think, "They spoke slowly, so maybe I'll say this fast," and while I'm acting out part by part, the play ends.

In daily life, when I was young, I used to fret over the past or worry about the future, but as I get older, that doesn't matter anymore, and each moment becomes important. I might die someday, or I might not. But there's no point in worrying about it. That's all.

Since I learned theater in Japan starting from "Kata" (forms) like in Noh, I think I know the method of how to fill in the content.

Normally, in theater, you first explore the inner life from the lines, and from there you discover the melody and tempo of the lines. But in opera, the lines already have a melody and tempo, and you explore the inner life from there.

A poor singer just follows the score and has no inner life, so the character doesn't become visible. A good singer expresses the inner life from the score. I just need to help with the work of filling in that inner life.

The most important thing in opera is the music. So the composer is first, the conductor is second, and I am next. The author Puccini has a greater talent than I do, so I think about how to bring what Puccini wanted to do into the modern era.

Then, I bring out the best talents of the lighting and set designers, costume designers, and singers I have chosen, and watch over them so they can create a good chemical reaction together. And as a result, I hope the audience feels that they have been able to refresh their hearts.

The human heart is truly a mysterious thing, and I wonder how I can share that with the audience.

During the war, I lived in a situation where there was no food and bombs were falling, but there were moments when I felt happy. Now there is no war and plenty of food, but there are people who commit suicide. Humans are not necessarily happy no matter how much peace arrives.

I want to express that kind of human mystery.

In both Noh and Kabuki, the stories aren't much different from today's TV dramas. But when you see good Kabuki or Noh, you are moved. That's because while using that story, it transcends the story to express things like the vastness of the universe, human beauty, and human loneliness.

Being moved is very mysterious. In Peter Brook's production of "The Mahabharata," the scene where the audience shed tears was when the war ended, everyone stepped out of character, and they were drinking tea and eating sweets on stage. So being moved is not logical; it's something very interesting.

For "Silence," while I was in Paris, I was suddenly told to come, and I appeared without an audition. But apparently, I look like I'm not doing anything (laughs). It's a work where you can deeply feel the passion of director Martin Scorsese as he tried to embody his beliefs within the film industry.

All the Japanese actors respected Director Scorsese, and the passion to work with a great director, even in a small role, was wonderful.

More than 10 years ago, I played the role of Julian Nakaura, a persecuted Christian missionary in Nagasaki, in a Portuguese film. This time too, I was told to perform the fumie (stepping on a religious image) and spit on it, but I refused and was crucified. I don't have the passion to align my beliefs with my actions, so playing such a role feels very presumptuous, or rather...

異端の精神なんて持っていないですよ。ただ、偶然にほかの人と違う道をやっているだけで。

人間、他人がやっていること、今までにあるものにすがれば無難で、安心する。だけども、それでは前に進めない。教育や人生経験をいくら積んだって本当は垢がたまってくるだけです。フランスへ行ってもう50年になるけれど、結局学んだのは、どうやって先入観をなくしていくか。結局学んだことは垢を落としていくことだけでした。

From Professor Tomoe Miyazaki, an ethics teacher, I learned to always be modest and that absolute values do not exist—that there are various values in this world. Also, I was very drawn to Professor Risaku Mutai. In those days, for young people, it was an era of choosing between existentialism or capitalism, and Professor Mutai's classes on how to fuse those two were wonderful.

Influenced by Professor Mutai, my graduation thesis addressed the contradiction between a human's individual existence and their social existence.

In the Greek tragedy "Antigone," if you emphasize individual issues, it goes against the intentions of the state, and if you obey the state, you neglect your brother. Tragedy arises from that contradiction. Even in theater, I believe we must provide something that successfully encompasses both individual and social issues.

Yes. Professor Koji Shirai was the director, and we received guidance from Professor Tetsuto Kito. Shortly after television broadcasting began, there was a project where the drama study groups of the Big Six Universities each performed a play on TV. We did "The Life of Yukichi Fukuzawa," and I played the role of Koan Ogata.

In Brazil, I will stage Mahler's "Das Lied von der Erde," and in Lyon, Britten's "War Requiem," both as musical dramas.

ブラジルで、マーラーの大地の歌を、リヨンでブリテンの戦争鎮魂歌をそれぞれ音楽劇として舞台化します。