Magojiro mask, a young womam mask used in Yuya. August 2009.
Yuya is the other Noh song I learned this Japanese summer. It came from the Noh play of the same title written by Zeami and no doubt was much easier for me to interpret an embodiment of the character of Yuya than Oimatsu.
Without having to know Japanese, the Yuya song is much more feminine and melodic than Oimatsu. It feels quite melancholic as well; there’s a sad tone of it but beautiful nevertheless. See my performance of Yuya with Jordi and Alexandre in the masterclass at the Iori Noh Stage in Kyoto here.
The story of Yuya goes on like this: (and I’m not trying to be neutrally telling the story because I can imagine how she felt!) Yuya was a mistress of Taira-no-Munemori (1147-1185), an aristocrat at the height of prosperity in the Heike Era. Being a mistress she was kept in his palace in Miyako (almost central of present-day Kyoto). Then her mother who lived in the country got sick and a messenger arrived with a letter from her mother asking Yuya for a visit. Munemori wanted Yuya to go on a cherry blossom viewing excursion to Kiyomizu-dera and refused her plea to visit her mother.(Add my eyes roll here.) Yuya obeyed (add another eye roll) and accompanied Munemori to Kiyomizu-dera. There, despite being in no mood to enjoy the cherry blossom, she entertained Munemori’s guests, danced and wrote poetry. It’s the power of her poetry that saved the day and Yuya was allowed to visit her sick mother.
I started off studying the Yuya song by drawing the mask of a young woman. I chose to draw Magojiro mask above, but in fact the mask called Ko-Omote is used for Yuya instead. The difference of the two masks is subtle: Ko-Omote is used to represent the beauty of enlightenment and purity, whereas Magojiro is the image of human passion and desire. But the more I practiced the song, I realised there’s no need to draw the mask to get into Yuya’s character. It’s obvious to me.
Then I went to trace the step of that cherry blossom trip that Yuya, Munemori and guest took at the present-day Kiyomizu-dera Temple on the southern hill of Kyoto. (You can watch the footage of my trip to Kiyomizu in my video here.) While I was at the temple, the thoughts about Yuya came to me: I can’t imagine the kind of relationship Yuya and Munemori was in in our post-feminist world. Then I’m wondering what she’d actually feel: she’d be worried sick about her ill mother and this rather selfish rich lover (or “owner” ?) of hers didn’t permit her to visit her mother? Would Yuya just obey Munemori out of duty of a mistress? Yuya was an intelligent woman with many talents, what went through her mind apart from sadness? You know, intelligent people usually are complicated. Would she be secretly crossed at Munemori but not showing because it’s a no-no for a Japanese woman in her position of that era? What kind of an intelligent woman allowing herself to be a mistress of a bloke like Munemore? Did she become his mistress out of necessity ie coming from a poor family (evidently her mother lived in a country)? Did Yuya ever love Munemori?
I have a feeling that I question Yuya’s love to Munemori—or lack of—because I’m a woman. I wondering if a professional Noh actor, certainly a man, who performs as Yuya asks the questions above about the character? Or perhaps they ask different questions. I’m curious...
Historically, Noh doesn’t always perform by men. Currently there are increasing numbers of female professional Noh performers in Japan (see this article). I’m wondering if women start performing the female shite part like Yuya, will it be the case of women imitating men imitating women? I suppose the debate is on...
I love the Yuya song. I still sing it in the bathroom or when I cook. I think I sing better than you see in the footage too!