Tetsunori Koizumi, Director
One salient feature of Oriental performing arts is the effective use of the tension between action and no-action, between movement and rest. While the graceful movement of the body is highly cherished and, therefore, needs to be cultivated, it is equally, if not more, important to control the body when it is in the state of no-action and rest. As a matter of fact, controlling one’s body when the body is in the state of no-action and rest, which requires mental concentration, is regarded as a mark of highest artistic achievement.
Take Noh, for example, which explicitly incorporates the tension between action and no-action, between movement and rest. As Zeami (1363-1443) explains, the moments of no-action are of crucial importance in the Noh play: “Dancing and singing, movements and the different types of miming are all acts performed by the body. Moments of ‘no-action’ occur inbetween. When we examine why such moments without actions are enjoyable, we find that it is due to the underlying spiritual strength of the actor which unremittingly holds the attention. He does not relax the tension when the dancing or singing comes to an end or at intervals between the dialogue and the different types of miming, but maintains an unswerving inner strength. This feeling of inner strength will faintly reveal itself and bring enjoyment.” (Zeami, as quoted in Tsunoda et.al. 1958, p.291)
The moments of no-action acquire their importance, in the first place, from the necessity of integrating the body and the mind. While the body engages in all kinds of actions in the performing arts, the mind is called upon to unify the whole performance by interspersing them with moments of no-action when the body is at rest. This is the way in which the tension between action and no-action, between movement and rest, is created in the Noh play. Zeami, judging from his words quoted above, suggests that the moments of no-action are equally, if not more, enjoyable in the Noh play. To the extent that the moments of no-action are important, Noh as an art from explicitly appeals to what might be termed the aesthetics of no-action.
The main aesthetic principle underlying Noh, according to Zeami, is yugen, which roughly translates into “mystery” or “profundity”. Zeami employs yugen as the term that characterizes the state of highest achievement in the Noh dance as embodied in the beauty of form at moments of both action and no-action. In Zeami’s own words, yugen refers to “a degree of artistry which is of that middle ground where being and non-being meet.” (Zeami, ibid, p.295)
The influence of Zen Buddhism is apparent in these words. Noh, as a performing art, tries to recreate human drama which invariably involves efforts to overcome the tension between the pain of life and the stillness of death. This tension defines the middle ground between life and death where being and non-being meet.
There are other features of Noh that can also be easily identifiable as Zen elements. First, there is the idea of simplicity that regulates the staging of the Noh play. Although the costumes worn by the Noh actors are often colorful and elaborate, reminiscent of the artistic ideal of miyabi which characterized Heian court life, the Noh stage itself is a simple rectangular structure. Moreover, the stage is usually left completely bare except for small gadgets called tsukurimomo, which are employed in some plays. This is one way of conveying to the audience that the Noh play relies heavily on the power of suggestion. The simplicity of the stage is reinforced by the simplicity of actions and movements in the Noh play. Unlike the ballet dancer, the Noh actor, as a rule, is not expected to walk on toes or leap in the air. In fact, the whole performance is one of graceful restraint, as if to evoke the stillness beyond this world. The Noh actor often wears the masks of ghosts, suggesting that the audience is being invited to glimpse into another reality.
Gadgets and masks are one thing, but dancing is quite another. In the final analysis, it is the mental power of the Noh actor that guides the audience into the middle ground where being and non-being meet: “The actions before and after an interval of ‘no-action’ must be linked by entering the state of mindlessness in which one conceals even from oneself one’s intent. This, then, is the faculty of moving audiences, by linking all the artistic powers with one mind.” (Zeami, ibid, p.291)
The mind thus becomes the unifying element in the Noh play. As the Noh actor enters the state of mindlessness with his performance, the audience is expected to participate in the play with the mind of Zen practitioners in order to glimpse into the world of reality beyond appearances. As Zeami puts it, “what the mind sees is the essence; what the eyes see is the performance” (Zeami, 1958, P.302). By entering the state of mindlessness, or mushin (no-mind) as Zeami calls it, the Noh actor can guide the audience into that middle ground where being and non-being meet. Indeed, a highly accomplished Noh actor, like a highly trained Zen master, can potentially guide the audience to glimpse into the world of ultimate reality that transcends both being and non-being.
* Zeami, “On the mind linking all powers”, “The book of the way of the highest flower”, “The nine stages of the No in order”, as translated and compiled in: R. Tsunoda, W.T. de Barry, and D. Keene (eds.), Sources of Japanese Tradition, New York: Columbia University Press, 1958.