In Memory of Sahei Hanayagi

In Memory of Sahei Hanayagi

   I studied Japanese Classical Dance for five years under Sahei Hanayagi, the first head of the Samon Dance School.

   When I was 24 years old, I happened to watch an NHK educational program which showed how to dance Japanese traditional dance. I was instantaneously interested in the dance. The next day while I was chatting with one of my colleagues at school about my interest in the Japanese classical dance, he told me that his wife happened to be a student of a Japanese classical dance class. (Later, I found out that she was the second best student in the class. She is now the head of Goshiki Dance School.) He insisted that I visit the class that day. 

When I visited the dance studio, his wife introduced me to Sahei Hanayagi. I nervously sat on the tatami mats and watched a young woman practicing a dance. Five or six students were waiting for their turns. The teacher was around 35 years old, handsome, cheerful, and energetic. After he talked with me for a short time, he strongly recommended me to dance. I hesitated. I was wearing a suit and did not have kimono, but he said it didn’t matter. I stood on the wooden floor and imitated his movements. He taught me how to dance “Fukagawa,” a short Edo era love song, with his kuchi-shamisen (The teacher verbally produces the shamisen tones while singing the verse, like “I want to fly, ten-chi-chi, to you, ton-shan.) After the practice, he lavishly praised my dancing talent. This was the very initiation into Japanese Classical Dance.

even a pig

climbs a tree

when praised

豚も　褒めれば　木に登る

From that day on, I practiced dancing after school every Thursday for five years. I learned various dances including hauta (short dances), minyo (traditional folk dances), and classical Kabuki dances. The most impressive was a Kabuki dance called “Ame no Goro (Goro in the Rain).” It is a piece of Edo era music about Goro taking revenge against his enemy, Suketune, who killed his father when he was three. The dance shows how Goro pretends to have given up his intention to get revenge by going to meet a yujo, a licenced high-class prostitute. At the opening of the curtain, the dancer enters the stage with a half opened purple paper umbrella that covers his body while the nagauta epic singer sings accompanied by shamisen music. During the dance he reads a scrolled love letter sent from the yujo, reviews his 18-year pursuit of Suketsune, and renews his revengeful feelings. The dance lasts such a long time, nine minutes, that it took me almost three months to learn all the movements. While I was dancing on the stage, I did not feel as nervous as I had expected, but felt rather pleasant. I liked “Ame no Goro.”

When I went to the United States at the age of 28 to attend a two-week English seminar at Holland University in Michigan, which was followed by a month of sightseeing from coast to coast, I brought a portable tape recorder, kimono, and a dancing fan, which I used in place of the umbrella. I danced “Ame no Goro” at various places like the university campus square and at my homestay house. I don’t think I danced it well, but I was glad that the spectators gave me lots of applause. After I returned to Japan and danced it before the teacher, he said smilingly that I had changed the dancing movements in my own way.

poor dancer

enjoys

blissful ignorance

踊りべた　知らぬが仏　意気揚々

“Ame no Goro” opened the world of Kabuki to me because Goro appears in several Kabuki performances, the most famous one being “Sukeroku.” It led me to dozens of other Kabuki plays including “Kanjincho,” “Musume Dojoji,” and “Renjishi.” I used to make it a rule to see Kabuki plays at the Kabuki-za Theater whenever I went to Tokyo. I still enjoy seeing Kabuki at Misonoza Theater in Nagoya and watching Kabuki TV programs. “Ame no Goro” also instilled in me a love of shamisen music. It has now sunk deep into my brain cells. Whenever I hear the fine sound of the shamisen, my blood and flesh cannot help dancing. Unlike the piano or violin music, Shamisen music touches my Japanese heartstrings.

Sahei Hanayagi’s dance was awesome. His movement was perfect. He paid utmost attention even to the movement of his eyes and fingers. His dance was smooth, rhythmical, and well-balanced. I miss his dance of a Miyagi Prefecture folk song, “Sansa Shigure.” He danced matching it exactly with the accompanying shamisen sound and song.

I can still see his Sansa Shigure dance clad in black montsuki and grey hakama clothes. I can still hear his high pitched voice when he was teaching his students, sometimes scolding them severely, sometimes laughing wildly.

Sahei Hanayagi died at the age of 77 in January 2011. May he rest in peace.

 earthquake stricken

Miyagi Prefecture

Sansa Shigure is crying

震災で　さんさ時雨が　泣いている