Kabuki & Kimono. (Just not at the same time.)

Hello again, readers!

WR here.  It's been a busy few weeks for me, what with the wrapping up of classes and the launching of mid-term classes and the ceremonies and the graduations and the tearful goodbyes and the entrance exams and the university results and the enkai and all of that.  But in the midst of that craziness, I had what I would consider to be a very "Japanese" week.

First, it started with a matinee Kabuki showing at the Hakata-za Theater in Fukuoka City.  It's a major professional house in the heart of the city, in the lively Nakasu-Kawabata area.  I'd never been inside before, nor had I seen a Kabuki play, so I was suuuuuuper excited.

One of the flags out front.

Promo Posters, year by year.

Once I got inside the building and past the ticket-takers, I took several flights up to find a crazy array of specialty shops.  These ranged the gamut, from stores selling expensive, handmade bags, to stands selling Hakata nick-knacks.  Sweet-treat bakery kiosks next to lavish jewelry stores.  Kimono accessories across from a cramped row of bento-box vendors.  (The pictures below don't really do it justice, as those areas were so crowded that it was difficult to get a good shot, but I think you can get a sense.)  It was essentially 2 ~ 3 floors of shops like this.  Insane.

So, I did a little shopping, bought myself a cute folder and a kabuki-themed furoshiki, and then made my way up to the top-most balcony (my seat).  Outside of the main theater space, there was a schedule of the day's three plays.

Ta-daaaa!

As you can see, there's a rather long intermission between the first play and the second play.  I was shocked when, the moment the house lights came up and the applause died down, I heard a collective plastic crackle as everyone in the room opened up their bento and started eating their lunch.  Right there, in the seats.   As an American theater-goer / theater-maker, who's been personally flayed by stage managers in the past for having even a well-sealed bottle of soda in a rehearsal space, I was pretty flabbergasted to see all that food flying about.  Still, I joined in the collective feast, only in my less classy way; a tuna-mayo onigiri from Family Mart and some cheddar almond crackers.  What can I say?  I'm claaaassy.

Anyway.  Here are two shots of the interior.  It's really a lovely space, and I adore the long, traditional walkway along the left side.  It made for some incredible, dramatic entrances.

For now, I'll skip the story about the sweet but semi-crazy man who sat next to me, bought me crackers, but then told me "I was being impolite" (in Japanese) when I tried to share with him, kept asking me, "Where is your husband?" (in Japanese) over and over, kept apologizing to me that his country doesn't have enough English (in Japanese) for someone like me, and then offered to walk me home (in Japanese) because I probably couldn't understand any Japanese and I was all alone in a big city.  Right.

But, overall, the shows were great.  Beautiful and whimsical, stark and surprisingly funny, bittersweet and full of longing, rich with texture and subtlety.  And, really, c'mon.  Only in Kabuki can you have a scene with a dozen on-stage decapitations that's hilarious.

So.  Fast forward a few days.  I went to a lovely onsen on the Hakata wharf with a couple friends.  It was delightful and relaxing and no, I don't have a single photo.  It's an onsen.  Everyone's naked.  Of course I didn't take pictures.

Fast forward a few more days.  I bought a kimono.  (Pause) Yes, really.

That's me, in my school's tea ceremony room.  We had a practice fitting session the day before graduation (the day before I wore the outfit in earnest, you might say).  Isn't it puuuuurdy?  Here's the kimono and the undergarment kimono, hanging up.

Below, you can see me in the both kimono configurations.  First, you can see what I wore to the graduation ceremony.  There's a different obi (belt) and a hakama (ceremonial over-skirt) over the top.  It is *the* traditional look for graduations, some likening it to a graduation robe in American ceremonies.  I didn't buy this hakama, though I think it's beautiful.  Instead I rented it for one week.  The second photo is the outfit I wore to the evening work enkai.  It's a more traditional kimono look.

Ceremony outfit.

After-ceremony outfit.

Before you ask.... No, dear God no.  I did not put this on by myself.  I had help from an amazing, kimono-savvy teacher who basically did absolutely everything for me.  It's easy to think, seeing the perfectly draped, beautiful kimono above that it's a simple process.  But it's not.  Here are all the straps and strings and belts and loops that keep a kimono looking nice.

And here's a picture of the whole shebang.  With description.

From left to right:

1.) Kimono Under-dress-thing.

2.)  Kimono.

3.)  Obi.

4.)  White Tabi, those cute toe socks.

5.)  The towel that was wrapped around my waist, to make it fuller underneath the obi.

6.)  The whatever-it's-called stomach plate, making a smooth firm surface to tie the obi against.

7.)  Wrap 1 (pink), for securing some of the many kimono folds.

8.)  Wrap 2 (blue), same thing but different place.

9.)  Clip 1 (dark pink), for keeping the kimono width correct and the front to back folds in the right place.

10.)  Clip 2 (light pink), same thing but different place.

11.)  Cloth bands, for securing the first waist fold of the kimono.

12.)  Decorative yellow sash.

13.)  Decorative orange and green rope.

Not shown, but worn:  My yoga pants, underwear, sports bra, sports tank (all of which I wore underneath), my white shawl (which I wore over the top, when outside), and my surprisingly comfortable and cute geta shoes.

Yeeeeeeah.  It's a lot of stuff.  A LOT.  But, the whole experience made for such a wonderful memory.  I felt beautiful and elegant, if a little out of place.  And my students absolutely ADORED it.  They were so SO so SO happy that I kept to my promise and wore a kimono for them.  I can't tell you how many pictures I took with squealing students.  It was great.  So, all in all, I think it was worth the stress and hassle and difficulty going up and down stairs.

That's it from me for this week!  Tune in next week for more of the Rowland-Weinstein, cross-Pacific adventures!  As always, thanks for reading and don't forget to feed the fish!

WR