The Noh Playbook

A mountainside overlooking Kyoto glistens in the early morning dew. A gentle, golden light drips itself over the outcrops of rock, pooling in the flat spaces, cutting through the grey haze of dawn. Beside the crooked path, an ancient, wooden Noh theatre barely stands in the amber light. Built on the stone overlooking the city below, the stage is built from hinoki (Japanese cypress), and it’s 4 supporting columns are beginning to crack and strain under the weight of the vast sloped roof. Traditionally, the residents of the city would snake their way up the path for each full moon, eager to watch their favourite plays and dances. However, since the fall of the Tokugawa Shogunate, the theatre has fallen into disrepair, the actors now forbidden to perform. Due to its desertion, many animals on the mountainside have been using the abandoned stage as a shelter; they shade themselves from the mid-summer sun and screen themselves from the cold mountain winds at night. It has become their home and refuge; a place to raise their young and protect their nests.

One day in Spring, the villagers announce that the crumbling theatre is an eyesore above their city and decide they will demolish it. Owing to his large ears, the hare overhears their distressing plans and hastily runs back up the mountain to relay the news to his peers. The animals are panicked and immediately begin quarrelling over the unwelcome announcement, pacing the length of the stage and swishing tails, feathers and wings in despair. In the heat of the commotion, the wily fox, as wily foxes are prone to do, slopes away unnoticed behind a bamboo screen. There is a metallic rattling sound, followed by a creak and a rustle. A handful of creatures hears these strange noises, and they all begin to quieten as they turn their gaze. A few moments later, the crafty fox reappears, dressed in a fine embroidered kimono, its golden threads shimmering in the morning sun. Having discovered the ancient Noh playbook, he has used his sly wit to unlock the dusty costume chest and has dressed himself in his luxuriant findings.

The Fox’s cunning plan is to perform for the villagers with tales from the playbook, fooling them into believing that the theatre is possessed by Yökai (benevolent spirits). The creatures can therefore convince the audience that it would be a bad omen to demolish the structure, thus saving their treasured home and refuge. The other animals leap with glee at this masterful ploy, cheering and celebrating; the commotion is renewed, but this time in excitement. One-by-one, they jump into the ancient chest, rummaging to find costumes for their new characters. They find inros and netsukes, armour and tassels, fans and ribbons: the box is a treasure trove of spectacular adornments, and each creature has a part to play.

As the villager's footsteps crunch towards the theatre, the animals are prepared and awaiting their arrival. With the deep, hollow rhythm of the Tsuzumi drum beaten by the spoonbill, the grand performance begins.