My practice converges two lineages of dance traditions: dance improvisation and Noh theatre. I began studying Noh in Kyoto with the late Master-actor Udaka Michishige in 2009 followed by a number of study trips. In 2019, with support from the Norman Macgeorge Travelling Scholarship, I returned to Kyoto to study with Michishige-sensei’s sons, Udaka Tatsushige and Norishige.
In researching Noh performance theory, I used the method of textual interpretation of Zeami’s Noh treatises as well as my practice and study of the Noh repertoire. I found that the concepts of jo-ha-kyū and ma in the repertoire concern not only the embodied articulation of the artistic form in Noh but also its temporality and the interrelationship between performer and audience. In my research, jo-ha-kyū and ma are explored as the conceptual framework of embodied temporality.
As a tripartite structure originating in ancient court musical performance, or Gagaku 雅楽, jo-ha-kyū was adopted in Noh as ‘an ordering principle’ in many traditional art forms including tea ceremony, poetry, and flower arrangement (Komparu 1983: 25). Jo-ha-kyū is a modulation of beginning–middle–end or beginning–break–fast/resolution (Komparu 1983: 25). There is jo-ha-kyū in all levels of Noh performance, from a breath, a pivot of the feet, a phrase of kata, or standard movement, the whole dance, the whole play, and the whole programme of the performances of the day. Jo-ha-kyū can be interpreted through the translation of individual kanji characters:
jo 序 means beginning
ha 破 means break or ruin
kyū 急 means hurry, sudden or abrupt in resolution
In this interpretation, a foundation (of a movement or a dance) is laid in jo while a ‘disordering element’ is introduced in ha to break the configuration of the foundation (Komparu 1983: 25). The disordering element can also mean an exploration of diversity of material in all its particularity and resolve in kyū with a sense of energetic force (Zeami 2008: 78).
In the historical text of Noh treatises, jo-ha-kyū is underpinned by an understanding that life itself pertains to process. Zeami conceptualized jo-ha-kyū to infuse as much vitality of all performance actions as possible (Ramirez-Christensen 2008: 61).
Through the multi-voiced methodology, the studio research was devised as joint studio practice between Janette and me. The studio research aimed to explore the embodiment of jo-ha-kyū and ma in dance improvisation where Janette and me took turns to be improviser and watcher. In the studio research, Janette generously imparted an invaluable perspective to unpack ideas, and to interject, criticize, argue, propose, and reply in the confluence of doing–reflecting–reading–articulating–doing processes in the studio.
During the early stage of Enquiry 1, as shown in the video on the left, I reflected that jo-ha-kyū and ma in my improvisation was wave-like: before one movement ended, the next movement was already underway. At times, this wave-like flow was experienced by the viewer as a long continuous sequence of movement, as Janette commented in the audio on the left. Inherent in my Western dance training, the flow was my habitual mode of improvisation, and my temporality conformed to this flow.
The wave-like flow was in contrast to the clear articulation of jo-ha-kyū and ma in my Noh practice. In my experience of the improvisation on the left, the wave-like jo-ha-kyū could be felt within the continuous sequence. However, at times, it was as if there were jo and ha in each movement, but what about kyū?
To examine this problem, I referred to Zeami’s writing. One of the most important features of jo-ha-kyū is its fulfilment or jōju 成就 (Zeami 1984: 137). It’s the finishing — kyū — that make jo-ha-kyū an arc. Once an arc of jo-ha-kyū is fulfilled, there is a gap between two jo-ha-kyū modulations. This gap is where ma can emerge.
During the Noh study trip to Kyoto in 2019, I practised implementing the fulfilment of jo-ha-kyū both in the Noh repertoire and in improvisation. As a result, the flow in my improvisation was disrupted in favour of fulfilling each arc of jo-ha-kyū. An example of this is shown in the video on the left. During the small pauses, the intensity of Janette’s gaze intensified in my experience. Furthermore, it was as if my dancing body experienced a sense of indeterminacy — potentiality and uncertainty as to what might come next.
In practising fulfilling each jo-ha-kyū modulation, my temporal experience as a mover could be described as discrete but ongoing. During the pause when I experienced time most vividly, time seemed to stop. Time no longer flows smoothly in my experience! An example is shown in the video, with the audio of Janette’s comment, on the left.
This practice led to the question of what can be understood about time in Enquiry 2, the relationality with Janette in Enquiry 3 and the indeterminacy during the pause and before moving in Enquiry 4.
Like jo-ha-kyū, the concept of ma is prevalent in Japanese culture, not only in performing art traditions but also in literature and architecture. According to Noh theory, ma is the interval of time when the dance, chanting, and music ceases and ‘nothing happens’ (Zeami 1984: 97). In the treatise Kakyō 花鏡 (1424), Zeami defined ma as ‘gap’ between two physical actions (Zeami 2008: 115). On the significance of ma, he wrote:
The gap between is where, as they say, nothing is done. When you consider why it is that this gap where nothing is done should be interesting, you will find that this is because of an underlying disposition by which the mind bridges the gap. [...] This internal excitement diffuses outward and creates interest. However, should it be apparent to others that you have adopted this frame of mind, that is no good. If it becomes apparent, then it is likely to turn into a dramatic technique in itself. Then it is no longer ‘doing nothing’. (2008: 115)
According to Zeami, ma has a Zen origin and requires a concentration that reaches the rank of ‘no-mind’ or mushin
無心 (2008: 115). However, the state of mushin can be obtained only by devoted Zen practitioners such as Zeami himself and it is rare among Noh performers in the twenty-first century. From the perspective of embodied practice, ma is experienced by the performer as a temporal gap that facilitates an intersubjective experience between performer and viewer (Kono 2019: 253). Michishige-sensei discussed ma when I interviewed him in 2015:
In 2009, I witnessed Michishige-sensei performing the title role of the Noh play Omu Komachi. In the play, he maintained his inner concentration in ma — the silence and stillness between the dance and the chanting — but without the audience noticing his effort. I remember when he paused, listened, and waited to correspond to other performers most vividly. During this pause, I gravitated towards his attentiveness as if I anticipated his next move. In the interview above, Michishige-sensei gave an example of ma; he also attuned to his viewer/listener to provide intervals within his speech.