Shakespeare is set to
flower in the east
Japanese director Yukio Ninagawa wants
animalistic acting; but the RSC's Sir Nigel
Hawthorne is having trouble standing up.
Linda Onoki reports on the pleasures and the
pitfalls of bringing 'King Lear' to Japan
To many Japanese, Shakespeare is little more
than a name half-remembered from schooldays.
But that country's maverick director, Yukio
Ninagawa, is planning to change all that. To his
compatriots, he is promising a shining
revelation: "Shakespeare as it has never been
seen before"; to the British, a "beautiful
flowering of Shakespeare's seed from the
East."
On Wednesday, the eve of the equinox,
Ninagawa's exotic production of King
Learopens in Japan, with Sir Nigel Hawthorne
in the leading role. In October, it will transfer to
London's Barbican theatre and then the Royal
Shakespeare Theatre at Stratford on Avon. But
there are obstacles ahead: despite many years'
experience directing Shakespeare in
Japanese, Ninagawa is directing actors of the
Royal Shakespeare Company in a language he
does not speak.
If English is a hurdle for the director, it is a
mountainous barrier for the audience in Japan.
When Japanese tourists have been baffled by
the prose of Phantom of the Opera, will
Shakespeare's searing poetry fall on deaf
ears? In this alien tragedy of an ageing King
and his "pelican daughters", will Japanese
audiences find a universal truth?
Ninagawa is determined that on his stage they
will, and not only in King Lear. Over 13 years he
is directing all 37 Shakespeare dramas. It was
not his idea: "I might not survive the
experience!", he warns. It was the brainchild of
Makoto Moroi, director of a new municipal
theatre in Saitama, north of Tokyo. The first
three productions of the cycle, Romeo and
Juliet, 12th Night and Richard III, have been
sell-outs; but they were staged in Japanese.
Are there enough swots out there for 16 English
performances of the bleakest tragedy?
Probably. The story of King Lear will be familiar
from Kurosawa's samurai version in the film
Ran. And as well as Ninagawa's reputation,
there is the considerable appeal of seeing a
lone Japanese lamb among the lions of the
RSC: Hiroyuki Sanada, a popular actor, is
playing the Fool. But he is more than a pretty
face. Hawthorne spotted him in London
playing Hamlet, and was struck with his unusual
combination of "athleticism with vulnerability".
At 38 he is as graceful as a swallow, and for
this acrobatic performance he is keeping fit by
running and "breathing energy from nature".
After diligently learning to flatten his vowels in
Hollywood, he has had to sharpen them up
again with a tutor from the British Council. After
all, the play runs for four months in England. As
always, Ninagawa plans to scale the language
barrier with creative staging. Anyone who saw
his recent A Midsummer Night's Dream, set in
a Zen stone garden, knows that his productions
are full of invention. At the rehearsal stage in
Saitama there are hints of Japanese music,
flowing costumes, masks and flashes of humour
amid the gloom. All this reflects the vivacity of
the Kabuki theatre, yet the set draws on the
austere simplicity of its opposite extreme, the
Noh.
On an empty stage, by the dark shadows of an
ancient pine tree, King Lear's passion, agony
and awakening will be thrown up in stark relief.
Anyway, that's the theory. Actually, the rarefied
atmosphere of the Noh stage seems a natural
choice for King Lear; one of Shakespeare's
most unearthly creations. Lear's slide towards
the nadir, when he appeals to the heavens -
"You see me here you gods, a poor old man,/
As full of grief as age, wretched in both" - and
then his words to the blind Gloucester - "When
we are born, we cry that we are come to this
great stage of fools" - could be lines from a Noh
drama.
However, British audiences with occidental
concentration spans need not fear. Unlike Noh,
where the height of grief may be portrayed by
the slow, silent raising of the hand towards the
eyes of a mask, the actors of the RSC are free
to express their emotions. Ninagawa says he
wants "animalistic acting in an empty set." Will
this work in the all-important storm scenes?
Charles Lamb's horror of seeing Lear reduced
to a "tottering old man with a walking stick" has
given fair warning to every director for 200
years.
But Ninagawa is perfectly aware of the pits of
bathos yawning at his feet, and thinks that "Sir
Nigel and I have found a way". Still, he is not
underestimating his responsibility: "It's like an
English director coming to the Kabuki theatre
and telling Kabuki stars what to do." Nor is he
used to such lively debate among the troupe:
"Sometimes I feel like Macbeth: everyone's my
enemy."
Nevertheless he is full of praise for the cast,
especially Hawthorne, whom he describes as
"sparkling with imagination. Every day he has
new ideas. It's exhausting." Which is exactly
what Hawthorne says of him. Pulling on leather
boots before the first full rehearsal of Act 1,
Hawthorne recalls that four weeks earlier, "we
were taken straight off the plane and thrown
onto this huge stage and told to get on with it.
There's no time to pussyfoot around and say
'where do you want me to stand?' Ninagawa
works like an opera director; he comes to
rehearsals expecting you to know the arias."
However, no one is complaining. The actors
have unwonted freedom in their reading of the
text, and are supported by creative Japanese
staff who shuttle about like bullet trains.
With experience comes insight; Ninagawa says
his first two King Lears were failures: "I was
beaten by the text. But this time, I'm going to
win." As for Hawthorne, at the age of 70 he is
musing on the epic role ahead. "Lear is often
played by a young man in his 40s, but I'm
roughly the same age as King Lear was
supposed to be. When you get down on your
knees you know how difficult it's going to be to
get up again. A younger man would have to act
that; I don't."
He says King Lear demands "huge bursts of
energy". But in the break in Act 3 he will be in
his dressing room. "I shall have a Diet Coke
and put my feet up. Shakespeare always gives
you a rest, and then goes full tilt towards the
end."
|