One had the impression of an endless stream of people crowding into the lecture theatre at Seisen University for Dr. Naohiko Umewaka's presentation on "The Inner World of Umewaka Noh". A total of 127 persons were counted, many of them friends of Dr. and Mrs. Umewaka. Among them were the new Ambassadress of Luxembourg, Her Excellency Mme. Michele Pranhere-Tomassini; we were also happy to have with us this time the President of Seisen University, Dr. Junko Shioya.

Dr. Umewaka began by explaining his conception of his art. His major concern over a period of twenty years had been with what he called the "internal choreography" , as opposed to the external choreography (the actor's movements). All the movements in Noh were governed by kata, fixed forms. These can be traced back to the Naiben neri-ashi of the Heian period, over 1,000 years ago. This prescribed, in great detail, the choreography of a ritual at the court. For instance, it goes: "Start with the right posture, slide your left foot forward, lift it a little then draw it back; make a circular movement with your right foot..." and so on. There was no room for creativity, and each move had to be executed without making a mistake; at the same time, an expert knowledge of the moves bred self-confidence. This, then, was the origin of the kata, with each move given a special name.

In the Muromachi period, through the efforts of Kan'ami and his son Zeami, Noh was born. Zeami (1363-1444) was an actor, playwright and director, who wrote Tôboku, Izutsu, and some 20-30 other plays. He also write treatises on his art, of which 21 are extant; the last one was found in 1958, so there may be yet others that will come to light. In them he wrote little about the form, but was more interested in the internal message. He started writing the treatises in his early forties. This was probably because he was no longer allowed to perform, so he had more time to write.

Later he was exiled to Sado, but his offence is not known; it may be that he had offended the shogun. It is not known, either, if he ever came back. In his treatises he was eager to pass on his secrets, and the medium through which he did it is interesting. He could not pass them on through his son, as was usual, for the son died young; some say he was executed as a spy. Like a Zen master, he chose to use metaphors. For example, an archery student who has been practising six hours a day for many years goes to a master to ask advice because he finds archery painful. "Practise more," says the master. The student goes to another master, who says, "Don't practise at all." Two months later he returns to that master who tells him, "Go and shoot at the moon." As in the case of Zen, one is left to deduce what is the relation between the metaphor and the technique that is to be acquired. His homework is to go back home and find a relationship between words and action; in this case, it is a technique that is sought.

By a natural association of ideas, Dr. Umewaka then spoke of his father Naoyoshi, who had died and left him his five books of choreography when he himself was 14. He told a story of his father who in his early thirties had been performing Nue, a play in which he was required to mime shooting an arrow at a monster. After the performance an elderly man insisted on being taken backstage to his dressing room to meet him. The man turned out to be a famous master of archery, and what he said was, "Your arrow hit the monster!" Dr. Umewaka added ironically that he had heard this story from his uncle when he himself was performing Nue at the age of about 20; the uncle added, "Your arrow just missed!"

At this point, Dr. Umewaka broke off and showed two videos of his own productions; the first was a short clip of the climax of Dôjôji; instead of the large bell merely descending over the actor, he is jerked upwards into the bell as it rises -- a dangerous trick, observed the speaker.

The second was a longer excerpt from King Lear, a multinational, multilingual performance staged at the theatre Cocoon in Shibuya Bunkamura. It opened with what appeared to be a prayer intoned passionately in Arabic; then the King entered in something like Noh style but with somewhat faster movements and wearing a highly unconventional mask. Next to appear, representing one of Lear's daughters, was a Chinese actress, dressed and performing in classical Chinese style. The Fool spoke a mixture of languages, notably English, punctuated with extravagant gestures. And so it went on, with a medley of performers appearing, including Singaporeans speaking Malay, and a mixture of music, predominantly Indonesian gamelan. This was all very interesting, but it left this spectator at least completely bemused. Was this intended as a serious suggestion of a new way forward for Noh? As a conscious meld of Asian dramatic forms? Or was it deliberate iconoclasm and innovation for its own sake, intended to challenge the basic cultural assumptions of the audience? One suspects that these were questions deliberately posed, and deliberately left unanswered.

Returning to his lecture, Dr. Umewaka commented that the kata had lost their validity and effectiveness even in the traditional art scene today. It had been said that "If you pursue perfection of form, you will reach inner truth". When did the concept of kata in Noh start? It was in the early 16th century that a Noh book of choreography first appeared, giving details of how to perform a shimai -- the dance sequence in Noh.

The final part of the presentation was a short performance called "I am on a diet". This proved to be a delicious send-up of all the expectations of a Noh performance, classical or modern. With a minimal setting of a candle-lit table in a restaurant, Dr. Umewaka first performed the the scroll-reading scene from Kanjincho, using as his props a toilet roll on a stick. He then sat down at the table, an attendant brought on a hamburger on a plate, and he sat completely still for several minutes in a typical tension-building silence; then broke the mood abruptly by prosaically eating the hamburger and using the unrolled toilet paper as a serviette. Such is modern performance art!

There was no time left for questions, and Dr. Berendt called upon Mrs. Linda Inoki to propose a vote of thanks on behalf of the Society. She began by saying that Dr. Umewaka had vividly demonstrated the push and pull between the traditional and the modern in Japan. Recalling that Arthur Waley had always refused to visit Japan, though entreated to do so by Kawabata, because he did not want to see his vision of Heian Japan shattered, she lauded Dr. Umewaka for "boldly and bravely going" (like an adventurer in space) where few artists had gone before, to bring Noh into the modern world.