Butoh: A Great Teacher of Self

By Shantell Powell

I've been researching two diverse forms of dance in conjunction with self-discovery: Butoh and Raqs Sharqi. As far as peer-reviewed materials go, it's much easier to find information on Butoh. Although such articles do exist on Raqs Sharqi, they are few and difficult to obtain. I suspect this dearth shall be remedied within the next few years as more and more people take an academic interest in the dance.

The first applicable article I could find on Butoh is Noriko Maehata's "Selections from the Prose of Kazuo Ohno" (1). The article is interesting because it is made up of personal reflections on Butoh from one of its pioneers. Although articles on the history of Butoh will go further in explaining the overall factors which caused this dance to come into existence, Kazuo Ohno's particular motivations and experiences are integral.

After defining humanitarianism ("an idea based on profound love or idealism") and pragmatism ("based on people's immediate desires and needs"), Ohno says, "When we take dance lessons we should focus our thoughts not only on humanitarianism or pragmatism, but on both" (Maehata 156).

He also says,

Some very important questions come up during lessons. The wisdom of our daily lives, respect for the life of the self and others, and an understanding of nature. And these are the themes we should seriously consider: pain of life, joy of life, scars that our lives or others receive, and the benefits/destruction that nature provides us.

The scars on your body will scab over and heal in time. As for the scars on your mind, if you accept and endure them, the experiences will bring you both pleasure and sorrow in time. Eventually, you will attain a world of poetry that can be expressed only through your body, not by words (Maehata 156).

Ohno goes on to write of a serendipitous experience:

I found myself in the middle of the stage dancing. Nothing came into my mind then. For about 20 minutes I danced totally without intensions or awareness. It was wonderful.

I never had such an experience before. This was a most memorable moment of improvisation. I had the most incredible experience of life then. [...] Before, I always felt against improvisation, but on the other hand, I wanted to experiment with it. I just never had the chance. But at that moment I could unexpectedly experience being on the stage without any preparation.

To appear on a bare stage with no preparation does not mean that it contains nothing. On the contrary, [...] the vacant space is gradually getting filled and in the end something is realized there. Something happening in the process fills the space up.

This may be the kind of thing one can gradually be convinced of over a lifetime. But in my case, fortunately, I instantaneously knew the fact that the empty space actually was full. And I just danced in joy and excitement (Maehate 158, 159).

Parallels may be drawn in many disciplines because the vacant space being filled and the subsequent realization is not limited to Butoh, or even to dance. Tabula rasa exists for artists outside of dance in the form of blank canvas, empty page, and blinking cursor. Nevertheless, although other visual artists (painters, sculptors, photographers, etc.) may disagree on the method of transmission, they may also agree life experiences can transcend words.

Butoh is referred to as the dance of darkness. "To know the universe, Ohno maintains, one must examine its garbage or refuse. Hijikata expressed utter darkness in his dances, while Ohno explored the light, thus bringing together both extremes in an aesthetic union" (2). Tatsumi Hijikata is another pioneer of Butoh. His understanding of the dance also reveals much about self-discovery, and also reveals what he believed set Butoh apart from other dance media. He said, "In other forms of dance, such as flamenco or classical dance. the movements are derived from a fixed technique; they are imposed from the outside and are conventional in form. In my case, it's the contrary, my dance is far removed from conventions and techniques ... it is the unveiling of the inner life." He also said, "The dancer, through the butoh spirit, confronts the origins of his fears: a dance which crawls towards the bowel of the earth. I do not believe this is possible with European dance" (3).

Butoh dancers still live these extremes today. Sekishoku Suiseikan (roughly translated at Chateau of the Red Comet) are a Butoh troupe who perform in Shinjuku, Japan (from Tokyo Tsure Zure Gasa). In their performance piece Sotoh, they "seek to express dualities of existence such as life/death and truth/falsehood through a representation of the mating ritual of butterflies. When butterflies mate, one of them inevitably dies. Thus the process of giving life also contains within it death" (4).

For many people [Butoh] is a stange (sic) kind of theatre. Not everybody considers it a dance form. The birth of this extraordenary (sic) dance lies in post-war Japan. To be precise: the performance of Kinjiki in 1959. It was a short piece, without music, and it raised a scandal. In the piece a young boy (Yoshito Ohno) enacted sex with a chicken by strangling it between his thighs. In the darkness that followed a man - Tatsumi Hijikata - approached the boy. Since then butoh is called shocking, provocative, physical, spiritual, erotic, grotesque, violent, cosmic, nihilistic, cathartic, mysterious (5).

I am also in the process of querying other Butoh dancers on how their dance relates to self-discovery. Kaia Selene writes,

for me butoh helps break down psychological boundaries and express myself in ways i don't while doing anything else. it's a tool for facing fear, anxiety, sadness and a variety of other emotions and for expressing them on a very naked level. it's a great way to get in touch with my body and all it's little inner workings. it also allows me to let go of control for a time, so that's liberating and paves the way towards a clearer perspective and growth....

i think we often surprise ourselves doing butoh, in a positive way- both mentally and physically we realize we are able to do more than we thought, and hopefully we also realize that everything is alot bigger than ourselves, because at the same time it's very humbling. i think letting go of control is likely always humbling... maybe humility is a great teacher of self (6)?

I am curious as to how the notion of self-discovery differs between various dance forms. I shall continue this research.

Notes:

1. Maehata, Noriko. "Selections from the Prose of Kazuo Ohno" The Drama Review: TDR, Vol. 30, No. 2 (Summer, 1986), 156-162.

2. Hardy, Camille. "Kazuo Ohno. - Japan Society, New York, New York - dance reviews" Dance Magazine, May 1996.

3. DeNatale, Bob. "Tatsumi Hijikata" Flesh & Blood Mystery Theater.

4. Grunebaum, Dan. "Out on the Town" Metropolis Tokyo.

5. Sikkenga, Harmen. Kobo Butoh - Butoh: Dance of Darkness. 1994.

6. Selene, Kaia. "hi! i tell." New Orleans Butoh Collective & Community. November 13, 2004.

Photos:

1. Photo of Kazuo Ohno by João Roberto de Souza from O Grande Mestre Kazuo Ohno.

2. Photo of Kazuo Ohno and Tatsumi Hijikata from L'inafferrabile definizione del Butoh.

3. Photo of Sekishoku Suiseikan's Sotoh from Out on the Town.