[Feature: New Year's Dialogue] New Year's Dialogue: Aiming for a Juku with Tradition and Innovation

Happy New Year.

Happy New Year to you too.

To start the year, we are joined by Mr. Otoshige Sakai, a Noh performer who is a Comprehensive Designee of Important Intangible Cultural Property. The first time I saw Mr. Sakai on stage was when the celebratory Takigino (torchlight Noh) for the 150th anniversary of the founding of Keio University was held at the Mita Campus on November 7, 2008. The play was "Tsuchigumo" (The Earth Spider). At the time, I was serving as the Dean of the Faculty of Letters, and I watched from the moment Vice-President Norikazu Kudo (at the time) lit the firewood with a torch as dusk approached. With the 150th anniversary ceremony scheduled for the following day, presidents from various universities overseas were visiting as guests, and local residents were also invited. I remember it being a very lively and impressive gathering.

I later heard that your father, Otojiro, who served as the chairman of the Nohgaku Performers' Association, supported the students by performing the same play, "Tsuchigumo," at the 90th anniversary of the founding of Keio University (1947). This was in response to student requests during the post-war reconstruction period, out of a desire to energize Japan through culture and to share the scholarship and culture of Keio. I feel a deep connection here. Looking back now, how was that celebratory Noh performance for the 150th anniversary of Keio University?

The Takigino was held at the Mita Campus, which is lined with historic buildings. Takigino is something where the audience can immerse themselves in the Noh performance in the natural air and spend a moment of eternity. While there are various reinforced concrete buildings on the hill at Mita, one can still sense tradition and natural beauty in the tall trees, centered around the Ginkgo Tree in the Quad. While performing, I felt very comfortable and grateful on stage.

I believe there is great significance in sharing Japanese traditional culture from a university campus. This is because Noh, which was born in the Muromachi period, has a history of 650 years, has been passed down all this time, and is still breathing today. It is wonderful to have people from overseas see such cultural value. I thought the philosophy of reflecting on Japanese tradition within the 150-year journey of the Juku was truly magnificent.

That is exactly right.

The play "Tsuchigumo" is relatively easy to understand when watching. It is a story from the Heian period, where members of a tribe oppressed by (Minamoto no) Raiko appear as the spirit of an earth spider to vent their resentment against him. Curiously, in the world of Noh, the spirit of the earth spider appears in the form of a monk. The spirit, disguised as a monk, tries to kill Raiko by throwing thousands of strands of spider silk at him.

The earth spider was originally a certain tribe in Mount Katsuragi that resisted the Yamato Imperial Court, but the tribe itself was wiped out, leaving behind their resentment. However, a good point about Japan is that even after something is destroyed, it isn't just left that way; a kind of spiritual aftercare is performed. There is a play called "Katsuragi," which is a Noh play that expresses the Japanese spiritual structure of requiem and salvation, enshrining the deity of Katsuragi and praying for no further curses. In Europe, those who lose are thoroughly oppressed. I believe Japan has a kindness of heart that seeks to revere even the defeated as a deity in some way.

As the President mentioned earlier, after Japan lost the war, the 90th anniversary of the Juku was held in 1947. It was decided to hold various student events at the Imperial Theatre, which had survived the war damage, and to include traditional Kabuki and Noh. Actually, my younger sister passed away just before that, but my father kept that hidden from the students and staff and practiced from morning until night.

It was an immense honor to perform such a memorable play on the hill of Mita for the 150th anniversary, in the presence of guests from overseas. After the performance, around the time the clock was about to strike midnight, I had the opportunity to speak with the university presidents from overseas. They all said it was wonderful, so I felt I had fulfilled one of my responsibilities.

It was truly a memorable event. As you just said, the approach where those with deep-seated grudges are not just beings to be punished by the triumph of good over evil, but become subjects of requiem, is indeed unique to Japan.

With you performing as the shite (lead actor), you first showed the resentment through quiet, still forms with little movement, and in the second half, there were movements that were brilliant and visually striking. I believe the guests from overseas were impressed by this essence of Japanese art and Noh—the transition from stillness to motion. I think they were able to sense a Japanese spiritual world that is different from Western opera and the like.

Furthermore, the hill of Mita is a place that can be called a spiritual home for those associated with Keio University, to the extent that the lyrics of the "Keio Sanka" include the phrase "Mita, our second home." I believe that your performance of the celebratory Noh on the hill of Mita was a precious event that will remain in the history of Keio University.

Even before that, you have been directly involved in the education of students through the freshman welcome Noh sponsored by the Keio Research Center for the Liberal Arts at Hiyoshi and through your guidance of the Keio Kanze-kai. In recognition of your many years of contribution, including these activities, Keio University awarded you an honorary doctorate in 2013. In fact, among Japanese people who have been awarded an honorary doctorate by Keio University, you are only the sixth person in our long history.

I am truly humbled.

I would like to ask if there is anything from your own days as a student that remains strongly in your memory.

In my case, I have been at Keio since the Yochisha Elementary School, but since I have been practicing Noh since I was about three years old, I couldn't devote myself exclusively to my studies. From a young age, I had to do my schoolwork, and when I went home, I had to practice for the stage.

After the war was lost and Japan was in ruins, students who had been mobilized for the war effort returned from overseas, didn't they? At that time, everyone was interested in things like utai (Noh chanting). Perhaps when humans are pushed to the limit, they crave a kind of cultural enrichment. Having returned to their homeland and facing situations where their values were being questioned, they began to seek Japanese classics like utai and Noh. Unlike Western theater, these ultimately provide salvation for one's own inner heart.

Therefore, when foreigners create works based on Japanese theater, the endings always seem different. The German "Taniko" (Brecht's "The Yes-Sayer, The No-Sayer," based on the Noh play "Taniko") ends in death. But Japanese works always have a soul somewhere, and there is salvation within that. This is the cultural difference between the West and Japan. I believe those who experienced extremes during the war realized this.

At the time of the 90th anniversary of the founding of Keio University, His Majesty (Emperor Showa) came to this hill. Keio is different from other universities in that the human bonds are deep, and people gather tightly for such anniversary events. I felt that there is a strong sense of solidarity unique to Keio University.

My father's thoughts at the 90th anniversary, his thoughts for the senior students, and then my dancing at Mita for the 150th anniversary... while the form of Keio University is unchanging, it undergoes various makeovers. I think it is like a single nervous system. I wonder if this is the independence and self-respect that Yukichi Fukuzawa had in mind. If people who strive for excellence gather in such an environment, they can weave people together. In that sense, I am glad I graduated from the Juku.

The reason the name Keio Gijuku includes "Gijuku" (public school) was that private volunteers who shared a common philosophy would work together to build the school. Furthermore, that form was called a "company," and from there, Keio students, Keio University alumni, faculty, and staff—all related parties—gathered to form the Keio Gijuku Shachu. From this, the momentum to support Keio University through the spirit of Shachu cooperation emerged. As you say, a characteristic of Keio University is that the bonds between graduates and related parties are very strong.

Looking at the Mita-kai, there is probably no other university in Japan with such a flourishing alumni organization. There are Mita-kai all over the country and even overseas, and there is a tradition of contributing to the local community while deepening friendships and supporting their alma mater. Currently, there are 800 Mita-kai in Japan and 70 overseas. The founder, Yukichi Fukuzawa, intentionally valued "jinkan kosai (society)" and put effort into social interaction himself. He was also the founder of the Kojunsha, Japan's first authentic social club.

In his writing "Buzen Bungo Michi-fushin no Setsu," he left the words: "The most important thing in the world is the interaction and association between people. This is itself a field of study." When there was a gathering of graduates in the provinces and he was called upon, he would readily agree and go. Then, graduates in various regions would get excited around Yukichi Fukuzawa. I believe this tradition since the founding continues today in the strength of the bonds between graduates and the spirit of Shachu cooperation.

I felt that the fact that you and your father, across two generations and over time, performed "Tsuchigumo" at the Juku and supported the students is also a reflection of that tradition of human connection at Keio University.

I completely agree.

Another thing, I found the comparison you made earlier between Noh and Western theater very interesting. This is true for both Japanese theater and literature, but when looking at humans, there is no absolute good or evil, and both good and evil are things that can transform. Based on the recognition that both good and evil exist within a single person, humans are viewed multi-dimensionally. I felt that this might lead to the idea of ultimately being "saved."

In the case of the West, tragedies end as tragedies. The same is true for "Hamlet." That protagonist meets an unhappy death. But in the case of Noh, even if it is an unhappy death, there is something inherently salvific in the end, and I believe the audience can feel that. That is influenced by various things like Zen teachings, Shinto, and the diverse religious views of the Japanese people. I think that has been rooted in daily life all along.

Halloween has become completely rooted in Japan. I went to Washington, D.C. in 1988, and after dancing "Dojoji," I saw Halloween costumes for the first time, but at that time, it was hardly known in Japan. I never thought it would become so established in Japan, with so many people appearing in costume in the middle of the city (laughs). So, perhaps Japanese people have a surprisingly voracious appetite for such things.

Looking at the Halloween commotion, I think we are good at taking things that come from the West and, regardless of their essence, arranging them in a Japanese style and turning them into a festival. Valentine's Day has also become something that could be called a national event, in a form completely different from its original meaning in Europe.

In the Manyo period, the custom of utagaki is introduced in works like the "Hitachi no Kuni Fudoki." It was a very brilliant and fun event where, around the time cultivation begins in spring or harvest time in autumn, men and women in Hitachi would take lunch boxes to Mount Tsukuba and woo each other by exchanging songs.

Japanese people are said to be serious and not express their emotions much in public, but if you look historically, we are good at switching gears. While there are periods of working hard on the farm, there are also times where emotions are explosively expressed and enjoyed at festivals. I feel that this temperament is breaking out now in things like Halloween.

Festivals are like a root of religious things. When life was not as blessed as it is now, there would be poor harvests, and people would pray to the gods. I believe performing arts are born from such things. I think the national character of the Japanese people, who absorb a wide variety of cultures, is very precious.

Following the discussion on the differences between Japanese and Western culture, I would like to hear a bit about international cultural exchange. You have performed Noh all over the world and have made great contributions to international exchange through Noh. These include the Bordeaux Cultural Festival in France, the Third World Theater Festival in Seoul, South Korea, the "Daimyo Art Exhibition" sponsored by the Japanese and U.S. governments at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., and the "President Bush Inauguration Celebration Noh." From the Russian government, you have been awarded an Achievement Award and the highest Order of Friendship that the state bestows on foreigners for your achievements, such as the commemorative performances at the "Japanese Culture Festival in Russia 2003" and the "300th Anniversary of the Founding of Saint Petersburg," which were held based on a basic agreement between the leaders of Japan and Russia. In China, after performing at the Diaoyutai State Guesthouse and the Imperial Ancestral Temple in the Forbidden City in the year of the 30th anniversary of the normalization of diplomatic relations between Japan and China, you have performed in China many times.

What is the reaction of overseas audiences when they see the human passions and the depth of karma expressed by Noh, and how those are then saved and reincarnated?

I danced "Sumidagawa" at the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow and the Mariinsky Theatre in Saint Petersburg. The president of ITAR-TASS was former Deputy Prime Minister Ignatenko, and I was shown to the VIP reception room, where he said they would prepare a special press conference. I first told the person translating into Russian the synopsis of "Sumidagawa," then the highlights, and finally how the play ends.

Then, a very young man, probably 23 or 24, asked, "With what thoughts do you dance 'Sumidagawa'?" When I said, "I just explained the synopsis," he replied, "No, that's not it. What I want to hear is how you, Mr. Sakai, understand 'Sumidagawa' and how you express it." Even in Japan, no one asks questions to that extent. I told him, "That's a good question. You are wonderful."

"Sumidagawa" flows between the east and west of Japan. In the past, it was a remote area, and crossing that river was a major undertaking, with many accidents occurring. A woman from the capital follows her child's tracks, only to find that their reunion is with the figure of her child inside a grave. It's about the extent of a mother's grief, but a mother's grief is universal. In "Sumidagawa," the raindrops fall continuously, flow into the sea, and the river has been flowing majestically for hundreds or thousands of years. The story that took place at that Sumida River connects to the permanent human heart. Therefore, nature and the human heart are connected somewhere, and we must recognize that tragedy together. When I said that this is the overall image of "Sumidagawa" that I have in mind, he understood perfectly.

I find it very interesting that the content of the story has not changed at all since ancient times. As a Noh play, the forms and styles are the same. However, it becomes a different story depending on the performer. That young Russian man wanted to hear how the individuality and philosophy of each performer are expressed.

That's right. That is, after all, the sensibility to see the essence of things and the actor. It is naturally no good if it just ends exactly as taught, according to the form.

I am close with Valery Gergiev, the General Director of the Mariinsky Theatre in Saint Petersburg. He adjusted his busy schedule during a visit to Japan to come see my "Koi no Omoni," and he visited me in the dressing room and remarked, "Noh expresses the abyss of the heart with slight movements." He introduces me to people in English as "my good friend."

I love Gergiev's conducting. The performances he conducts sound different the next day, even for the same work. What he feels in his heart is transmitted to the audience. He might decide to restrain the sad parts today and try to gouge out a bit of a deeper place, or place emphasis on the inner self in the climaxes. It is always creative and vivid. I think a person conducting Bach should be different from day to day, even with the same score. Noh, of course, must be the same way. It is the value of a once-in-a-lifetime encounter. However, an inexperienced person must not do that. It is because it is something born out of tireless study and passion aimed at that goal.

Whether it's a violinist, a cellist, or a wind instrument player, it works because people who have polished their skills gather to perform. Creating a symphony while drawing out the characteristics of those people is no simple feat. In Noh as well, there is the shite, the flute, the small drum, the large drum, the stick drum, and the waki-kata, and while not a single word of the chant is different, the most important thing is how to share the content of the words of the chant with each other—telepathy, after all. It's not enough to just communicate well with the voice.

From the audience's perspective, eyes tend to go toward the shite, who is at the very center of the stage, but all the people around them support the stage, and a single work of art is created.

Yes. That's why it's often called a composite art. The musicians are the same, and of course the waki. If even one of the waki-tsure (waki's companions) accompanying the waki is poor, the stage will be ruined and the tension will be lost.

What is created from that becomes a universal art that resonates with people of any nationality in the world. Even audiences who don't understand the language find something that touches their hearts. This must mean they can sense the joys and sorrows common to all humans.

That's right. For the Russian performances, we provided both literary and colloquial versions to the Russian side, which they translated, and I gave them DVDs of my past performances. Then, they pointed out that the words of the boatman in the waki-kata's "Sumidagawa" differ depending on the school, and asked which one was correct. In cultural exchange, that kind of process until the stage is completed is the most important thing. In that way, mutual understanding deepens.

This is the most important thing to do in cultural exchange. For example, if it's Russia, when we talk about Chekhov's "The Cherry Orchard," there are always points of contact. Then, they come to realize that what they thought was a bit different from the realism advocated by Stanislavski in Russia is actually not superficial acting, but the universal and important expressive power of the "inner heart" of the performer. In that way, I believe cultural power and a multi-dimensional perspective are indispensable for understanding each country.

An individual speaks about what they have acquired with their own dignity and confidence. Exchange can only happen when such people gather. If society can have such conversations between such people, then as Yukichi Fukuzawa said, we can create a single great understanding.

I have been performing in China every five years since the 30th anniversary of the normalization of diplomatic relations between Japan and China (2002). For the 30th anniversary, I danced Noh at the Diaoyutai State Guesthouse and the Imperial Ancestral Temple in the Forbidden City. A person I spoke with then, who I thought had a deep understanding of culture, was Mr. Zhao Qizheng, a State Councilor and Director of the State Council Information Office. He held the important position of a member of the Standing Committee of the Central Committee at the time. He was a surprisingly well-balanced person for China, and I was startled to learn that he is an atomic physicist who majored in nuclear physics at the University of Science and Technology of China.

Is that so? So he is a person from the sciences.

That's right. Surprisingly, people in the sciences tend to have a strong interest in cultural things.

At the end of last August, there was a meeting called the Japan-China 1,000 University Student Exchange Meeting in Beijing to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the conclusion of the Treaty of Peace and Friendship between Japan and China. 500 Chinese university students and 500 Japanese university students engaged in various exchanges at Peking University. On the final day, there was a ceremony where messages from Premier Li Keqiang and Prime Minister Shinzo Abe were read. From Japan, the then Minister of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology Yoshimasa Hayashi attended, and I represented the Japanese university presidents. On the Chinese side, Minister of Education Chen Baosheng and Peking University President Lin Jianhua delivered congratulatory addresses. About 20 students from Keio University also participated. It was something that Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to Japan Cheng Yonghua put a lot of effort into realizing.

I was also invited to the ceremony for the 120th anniversary of the founding of Peking University in May, which was my first visit there in 30 years. Peking University 30-some years ago had a vast campus where students were relaxed, and when I went to the student cafeteria, they were eating with chopsticks from traditional bowls. However, when I went last year, the cafeteria menu was ordered via iPad, and payments were all done by smartphone—it has been digitized. Peking University, where Lu Xun once served as a professor, has traditionally been strong in the humanities, but I was surprised to see that the School of Medicine is now well-developed, and large science research buildings, such as a computer science center, are being built one after another on campus. Keio's School of Medicine has also begun full-scale exchange with Peking University's School of Medicine.

I heard that a Noh performance was also planned for last year's 40th anniversary of the conclusion of the peace and friendship treaty.

Yes, based on a proposal from Ambassador Cheng Yonghua, with whom I have been close for 20 years, we held the finale of the 45th anniversary of the normalization of diplomatic relations between Japan and China in 2017. It was a joint performance of Noh, Shanghai Kunqu opera, and Peking opera with the same program at the National Noh Theatre in Japan on December 19 and 20. Then, for the commemorative performance of the 40th anniversary of the conclusion of the Treaty of Peace and Friendship between Japan and China on September 26, 2018, I was asked to please perform Noh in China, so I headed to Xi'an.

Before the performance, I was very busy heading to Xi'an on May 28, 29, and 30 to decide on the performance venue and hold discussions with related parties. I had thorough discussions with the Xi'an Municipal Party Secretary, who hosted a welcome banquet and provided a special dedicated vehicle for three days. I thought that the banquets from the welcome dinner until my return were physically demanding as usual, but I also thought that close relationships of trust between people are born through such interactions.

That is Chang'an, the capital of the ancient Tang Dynasty.

That's right. I danced "Yang Guifei" there. At a university called Xi'an International University, there are quite a few people studying Japanese, so I gave a lecture there for about two hours. The vice president there was very enthusiastic, and the lecture was so crowded that there was standing room only.

I understand there was also a Peking opera performance in Xi'an this time. What was the reaction of the audience when Noh and Peking opera were performed together in the same venue?

Peking opera became popular during the Qing Dynasty. In other words, it took root in the capital, Beijing, but I have heard that it originally developed in Anhui Province. During the Ming Dynasty, Kunqu opera (also called Kunqu), which is lyrical, beautiful, and meant for quiet appreciation, was mainstream. Chronologically, it is the same as the period when Noh was born, and Kunqu was designated as the first World Intangible Heritage along with Nohgaku.

Then, horse-riding nomadic tribes entered, and the highly active Peking opera was created. The era is almost the same as Kabuki. Therefore, just like in Kabuki, they shout "Hao!"

For the Chinese audience to be able to see both Nohgaku, the representative of stillness, and Peking opera, the representative of motion, at the same time, they must have felt many things.

I have always performed together with Kunqu and Peking opera. Peking opera also places more emphasis on singing than on watching. For Peking opera, it was "The Drunken Concubine," with Yang Guifei as the protagonist. The person I always performed with was Mr. Mei Baojiu, a leading figure in the Peking opera world; his father was the famous Mei Lanfang. The Mei school was famous for its superb performances of noblewoman roles. In Beijing, Mr. Mei Baojiu and I continued a heartfelt friendship over steak and wine. And on CCTV Channel 1, the two of us talked about our art for about 30 minutes. When he came to Tokyo, he would first say he wanted to see me, and then we would have our customary dinner of red wine and steak. He was a little older than me and passed away at 82. That singing voice still remains in my ears, and my heart aches.

I think the audience was taken aback at first. My eldest son (Mr. Otomasa Sakai) is good at what is called the "jumping seated position," where he jumps and lands on the stage from his waist. When he jumped two or three meters and landed with a snap, there was a thunderous round of applause. That's not a place where you're supposed to applaud (laughs).

Unlike Kabuki, there are no shouts of house names like "So-and-so-ya" in Nohgaku.

Currently, how universities and students will live within globalization has become a challenge.

Globalization feels like a wave that averages things out with common rules as people, goods, and money flow across borders. In that case, you can't survive unless you conform to global standards, but conversely, you will be buried if you don't have some kind of individuality.

I think this has something in common with the earlier talk of "from form to individuality," and I feel that judo symbolizes this. In the early days of internationalization, Japanese judo was very strong because it is a Japanese specialty. However, as countries around the world began to do judo and an international federation was formed, the rules kept changing. At one point, Japan claimed, "This is not judo." Things like the judo uniform no longer having to be white, or points being deducted if you don't initiate a technique yourself.

Originally, judo is about protecting oneself from an enemy's attack, so attacking and defeating the opponent yourself is not the essence. However, no matter how much you say that, if the world's rules become that way, you have no choice but to follow them. So, is it better to protect one's isolated position domestically without even appearing in world championships or the Olympics? No, it is important to express the individuality of Japanese judo while conforming to the world's rules. Thanks to those efforts, Japanese judo has recently been able to excel again.

Universities are probably the same; it is necessary to express individuality while following global standards. I believe the individuality of Keio University is, after all, sending out human resources of independence and self-respect into all fields of society. Keio graduates are always active in various parts of society. I think this kind of human resource development is our characteristic.

That is exactly right.

It is often said that Keio University is the Keio of the business world. Indeed, in the 2013 THE (Times Higher Education) university rankings, the Juku was ranked 9th in the world for the number of top executives produced at global corporations. However, not everyone goes into the business world; they are active in many different fields. For example, in terms of the number of successful candidates for the Certified Public Accountant examination, Keio University has been number one in Japan for 43 consecutive years. In 2013, we achieved the record of being number one in Japan for both the number of successful candidates and the pass rate for the bar exam. Graduates are active in various fields such as politics, academia, the arts, and sports. I believe this is the individuality of Keio University.

In sports, more than 130 Olympic and Paralympic athletes have come from Keio. In particular, at the 1920 Antwerp Games, Kazuya Kumagae won silver medals in both tennis singles and doubles, which was actually the first-ever Japanese medalist. At last year's Asian Games, Juku students and Keio University alumni were also very active. Even looking only at gold medals, five medalists were born: Ryota Yamagata and Yuki Koike in athletics, Karin Miyawaki in women's fencing, Yuka Momiki in women's soccer, and Manami Doi in sailing.

In the Tokyo Big6 Baseball League, we narrowly missed a third consecutive title, but we won two consecutive seasons in the fall of the year before last and the spring of last year, and the high school baseball club has been active, appearing in Koshien for both spring and summer consecutively.

The president of the University of British Columbia in Canada is a person of Japanese descent named Santa J. Ono, and their baseball team is a powerhouse that is the only school in Canada allowed into the U.S. college baseball league. When I met President Ono at an international symposium, he mentioned that he heard Keio is also strong in baseball and offered to bring his baseball team for a match, so they came last summer and we played a friendly game.

What made me happy was that at that time, the baseball club students and a volunteer team that students are forming for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics and Paralympics took the University of British Columbia baseball students to Kamakura and let them experience various aspects of Japanese culture. In other words, they also engaged in cultural international exchange together. The power to create cultural and human connections through sports resonates with the spirit of Keio University's excellence in both academic and physical pursuits.

Mr. Sakai, you are actively working to communicate and popularize Noh to the world. How do you think Noh will be protected and how it will change amidst globalization?

Noh was protected and nurtured by the Tokugawa Shogunate until the Meiji Restoration. Each domain was obligated to possess Noh masks according to its rice production (kokudaka), and it was also decided that they would employ actors and build Noh stages.

The Kaga Domain, for instance, had a million koku, so they had everything from costumes to actors. The Date Domain in Sendai long employed the Kita school, which was favored by Shogun Hidetada, while the Hosokawa Kanrei family employed the Konparu school. However, the Hosokawa family, wishing to adopt a form that would be well-regarded by the Shogunate, also brought in the Kita school, stating they would employ two schools.

However, the Shogunate, with the idea of centralization, gathered the heads of all the schools in the center of Edo and gave them residences. The Shogun's instructor was from the Kanze school.

During the transition from Edo to Meiji, the previous system was destroyed, so it must have been very difficult.

Indeed, with the abolition of domains and establishment of prefectures, who would guarantee Noh? In terms of Japanese culture, both the Imperial Court and the Forbidden Interior had departments in charge of Noh, and they were in a position to prepare stages and frequently held Tenran-noh (performances in the presence of the Emperor) in Kyoto. But it seems the idea of having to think about something for the survival of Noh didn't occur to them. It was the same as destroying castles. There was a fear that owning a Noh stage might draw suspicion.

Empress Dowager Eisho, the birth mother of the Meiji Emperor, loved Noh. She had been singing it since she was a child. So, after Tomomi Iwakura returned from the West with his mission, he built a Noh stage at the Aoyama Palace to comfort her along with His Majesty. That was the catalyst for the revival of Noh.

After coming into contact with foreign cultures, the idea emerged that Westernizing Japan was not necessarily the prescription for becoming a modern state. Does Japan not have precious traditions and a soul that it has cultivated? Based on the philosophy that modernization and Japan's spiritual independence should consider the misfortunes of colonized Asian countries, the Westernized Rokumeikan culture vanished in an instant.

Noh actors who had been scattered were gathered to watch Noh at the Aoyama Palace. Noh performers who had lost their stipends felt that they could manage if they came to the great city of Tokyo, so excellent supporting actors (wakishi), Kyogen actors, and musicians (hayashikata) gathered from all over the country.

Since the former daimyo were no longer daimyo, they adopted something like the foreign peerage system and began practicing Noh at the Peerage Club (Kazoku Kaikan). Then, many people who had been itching to do it appeared. Consequently, Noh performances were held at the Shiba Noh Theater. This remains today as the Yasukuni Shrine Noh Theater.

So, when overcoming the crisis, you put effort into popularization by creating new forms or giving lessons to people who wanted to experience Noh and chanting (utai). You made efforts to increase the number of people who understand it in that way.

You cannot practice alone. You try to learn from someone, so you learn from a Noh performer of the time. Then, like-minded people are born who want to enjoy it together. And from those practice sessions, recitals are held. In the Meiji era, it gradually permeated in this manner. The most enthusiastic were the merchants. They would practice together through their associations with important national officials. Individuals also began to build their own Noh stages.

However, what was left behind was the schools. The Meiji government created state-run schools, but for music, they put Western music in the curriculum. They did not include Noh, the national art that was considered a "pillar of cultural promotion" in the Muromachi period and positioned as "shikigaku" (ceremonial music) in the Edo period, as part of education. This is indeed a problem. Therefore, in 1937, when my father started, he decided to let young people experience such traditional performing arts, and the very first place he went was the Kanze-kai at Keio University.

I think that is indeed significant. Since national education in the Meiji era focused on Westernization and enriching the country and strengthening the military, school education also emphasized physical education and martial arts, and did not incorporate much traditional culture.

Only Western music was incorporated into school education. However, after the war, Noh was in the Ministry of Education's curriculum guidelines for a long time. At one point, it disappeared for 20 years. The cause was multiple-choice tests. The result was the collapse of classroom discipline.

Saying this won't do and that it should be included, Noh was finally included consistently in the curriculum guidelines from elementary, junior high, to high school starting in 2002. Initially, the pretext was to study Japanese instruments, but elementary school Japanese classes included the Kyogen play "Kaki Yamabushi," and junior high school Japanese and social studies have supplementary readers on "What is Noh." In high school, it is treated as Japanese history and classical Japanese literature.

Noh chanting (utai) was included as a subject in elective music, and you can get points for chanting that. But there are no teachers to teach it. The curriculum guidelines will change in the year of the Olympics and Paralympics, so at that time, I believe we must position it as part of Japan's cultural communication and incorporate classical performing arts like Noh into school education.

As part of the activities of the NPO Hakushokai, I conduct visiting classes and lectures, hoping to follow up on parts that cannot be done in school education. Besides performing on stage, I believe it is the duty of those who perform Noh—which was recognized as the first UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity—to urgently think about the future of Noh and popularize and communicate it domestically and internationally.

I completely agree. For the Tokyo Olympics and Paralympics, Keio University has partnered with the British BOA (British Olympic Association) and BPA (British Paralympic Association), and the British delegation will hold a pre-games camp at the Hiyoshi Campus. At that time, we don't plan to just lend the space; we plan to conduct projects where students from our affiliated schools and university students can research coaching and sports science together, and explore how we, as an institution of learning, can be involved in the Olympics and Paralympics. Originally, the ancient Olympics were a festival of physical education and art.

Noh has also been certified as a support program for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics and Paralympics. In that context, I think how we communicate Japanese culture is extremely important.

That's right. Our NPO Hakushokai received certification for the "Tokyo 2020 Culture Olympiad," which is clearly stated in the Olympic and Paralympic Charter. We are currently at the stage of considering how to leave something valuable as a legacy from this year to next year and communicate it to the future.

The issue of education came up, and while strengthening English education is mentioned in terms of developing human resources who can succeed globally, English in this case should be viewed with the awareness that Latin was the common academic language in medieval European universities, which facilitated academic exchange. At the same time, English is a skill, and one must be able to correctly communicate their own country's history and culture abroad; it's pointless if you don't have the content to communicate.

Now, technologies like AI and robotics are advancing rapidly, and there are voices saying technology might threaten humanity. Certainly, AI will surpass humans in terms of deriving logical conclusions using vast amounts of data, but on the other hand, when a situation arises where past data is useless, humans must mobilize their sensitivity, intuition, or intelligence to respond to unexpected situations. I believe the role of higher education institutions, especially a comprehensive university like the Juku with traditions in both the humanities and sciences, is to foster human resources capable of achieving harmony between technology and humans.

Cross-cultural understanding is not just about understanding the other party, but also about properly conveying one's own culture and peacefully overcoming friction when it occurs between different cultures. I believe this connects to the "jinkan kosai (society)" emphasized by Yukichi Fukuzawa. This by no means means just getting along and having fun together; in "Gakumon no susume (An Encouragement of Learning)," he says that industry, law, and scholarship are all for the sake of jinkan kosai, and without it, scholarship is useless. He also argues that as social interaction increases, human sentiment softens and people do not go to war lightly.

The idea that conflict can be prevented by practicing "jinkan kosai" throughout the world could be called a political philosophy. Within Keio University, which holds such traditions, students have protected the tradition of Noh through the ravages of war, supported by others, and this has connected to current students. I hope we can foster students who wisely respond to the changes of the times while inheriting tradition.

I think the same applies to students, but in Japan as a whole, we must root the power of individuals to act and think based on their own thoughts starting from early childhood education.

Fortunately, because I had Noh, I have been studying it since I was small. I read books and thought about what I should think and what I should talk about with others. It's not about forcing one's feelings on others, but about creating mutual understanding through dialogue. That's why I believe teaching and nurturing are the most important. Looking at current early childhood education, it might be fine that mothers raise their children very carefully, but I am a bit worried about how they are being raised.

Another thing is that things might change as we enter the era of AI. There is a Noh play called "Adachigahara." It is a legend of a demon hag in Michinoku. What on earth is the secret of that bedroom? Perhaps it was something that person experienced and reflected upon. The wind howls at a solitary house in Michinoku where the autumn cold wind blows. There, a woman kindly lets someone stay for the night. I believe the narration of this story changes with the times, even if the internal forms (kata) remain the same.

Musical notes haven't changed since Bach's time, but the methods of expression become deeper. Modern Noh must never be performed lightly. I often use the word "protect" (mamoru). Then there is another thing, "break" (yaburu). Even if the form is exactly as taught from long ago, at some point you start a different interpretation. Then, it feels a bit like "breaking." It's saying, this piece is like this, but this is how I see it.

When I read Zeami's books, they aren't that difficult. They describe how to develop the skills and art of an actor and how to aim for those heights. So, depending on how you read it, it also resonates with innovation in manufacturing and business management.

That is very interesting. When the Meiji government translated "education" as "kyoiku," Yukichi Fukuzawa strongly opposed it, saying it should be translated as "hatsuiku" (growth/development).

Ah, I see.

He said that "education" draws out what a person inherently has inside, so it is "hatsuiku" where one grows oneself, just as a gardener applies only as much water as needed to let a tree's inherent strength grow.

Nowadays, people talk a lot about individuality, but if you just do whatever you want based on individuality, you won't be able to learn anything. In that sense, you first properly learn the "form" (kata). Then, once the basics are established, you let what you have manifest from there. That can be drawn out by a master or teacher, or you might notice it yourself and create something new. Therefore, when both education to properly learn the basics and "hatsuiku" to grow oneself are present, it becomes truly good human resource development. This might be the same in both the world of Noh and the world of universities.

As President Haseyama says, I believe such things were at the foundation of Yukichi Fukuzawa's spirit.

I think independence and self-respect truly means that. If I were to sum up the education and traditions of Keio University in one phrase, everything might be condensed into the words independence and self-respect.

Thank you very much for your time today.