This morning did not involve any solitary excursions — I sat in the hostel common area and typed emails, worked on internship applications, and read a little. Even when across the world, I am still tethered to Williamstown.
We then took three taxis at 9:15 AM to arrive at the Takabayashi residence well before our scheduled appointment at 10. Upon entering the stage area, which is connected to the personal residence, we were greeted with dances by both the son, who performed Iwafune, and the father, who performed Hagoromo. The simplicity of experiencing father-and-son in sync was powerful, especially when the accoutrements of noh–elaborate costumes and masks–were completely stripped away. No other actors and musicians were onstage; even the site of performance was rather unassuming — absent was the large concert hall and obscured was the bridge. Intimacy and immediacy were achieved by the distillation of noh’s parts.
Afterwards, we were given access to a selection of the masks, costumes, and wigs used by the Takabayashi family in their plays. Seeing these objects was like seeing time compressed, from the history of Noh as an art form to the development of this multigenerational endeavor. Hearing about the attention to detail instilled in me an even greater respect for what they do — the preparation required is much more than what meets the eye, even when what is visible already seems complex. The father and current head of the household allowed us to try on the karaori, or a robe typically reserved for women, and two of the masks. This made me appreciative of the skill and practice required even more — I could not breathe and walk properly in the mask with small openings, let alone perform song and dance in it. This has been my favorite moment of the trip thus far, for it gave me a feeling akin to what I experience whenever I visit an artist’s studio or analyze a work of art up close. Maybe that’s what I liked most about it, that sense of close looking.
The Noh masks on display.
Takabayashi Sr. showing us one karaori.
Joanne “werking” it.
Several of us decided to visit Arashiyama since it was relatively close by. One group split up into two, and mine, consisting of Si Hou, Sohum, Joanne, Franky, and myself, ate at a subpar soba and udon place where the tempura was precooked and the food was overpriced.
The group pre-Arashiyama!
We then reconvened at Tenryu-ji, the main temple in the area, and walked its temple grounds and garden. I’ve fallen in love with Zen gardens since arriving in Kyoto, and this one surely did not disappoint. It’s a shame that we have so little time to spend here — I would love to devote each day to visiting a garden and writing about it. To slow down is an opportunity of which so many of us are deprived.
Sogenchi Garden, part of Tenryu-ji.
Sogenchi Garden, part of Tenryu-ji.
Sogenchi Garden, part of Tenryu-ji.
Sohum and Joanne in Tenryu-ji.
Sogenchi Garden, part of Tenryu-ji.
Sohum in Sogenchi!
We then visited the Arashiyama Bamboo Forest, and I was amazed beyond words. Even photos don’t do the experience justice. We finished our day trip off by visiting the Moon Crossing Bridge. After returning to our hostel area, we shopped around Kawaramachi and then had dinner at Ippudo. The ramen is good, but lackluster compared to Sen No Kaze, which I must return to before leaving this place.
The bamboo forest at Arashiyama.
Franky and me — what a duo.
In sum and in short, today has been my favorite day thus far — I enjoyed time spent with good activities and company. When we visited a small shrine on our meandering path back to the Arashiyama station, there were small pieces of wood one could buy, write a message on, and then place on a shrine. I wrote, “I hope that the years to come show me that the acts of living and loving are one and the same.” If today is any indication, this wish has started to take on form: I loved everything I did today, and everything I’ve done since arriving a couple days ago.
