
I went to see Kanamori Jo’s company Noism08 perform their new piece "Physical Theater: Nameless Hands" (7/5 at Theatre Tram). With its dramatic construction, choreography based around puppet-like dancers assisted by kurogo (onstage assistants in kabuki), and music ranging from Arvo Part’s and Bach’s compositions to chanteuse Nakajima Miyuki’s "Jidai (Time)", the piece must have taken fans who expected another clear-cut performances by surprise. Within the oeuvre of Noism, it’s arguably the wildest piece to date.

When entering the venue, the play had already begun. I say "play" and not "dance" because of the puppet theatre maquette that was installed left-hand in front of the stage, presenting a "show tent manager" (Miyagawa Aiichiro) who performed his puppet show with dubious hand movements. Judging the time to be right by the situation in the audience, as soon as all visitors were seated the manager began to speak in a pretentious tone. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming to witness the historical first performance of our little show tent today. This evening is dedicated to the howling human body!"
From this point the general theme of the play/dance spectacle that was to follow was perfectly clear. The kurogo carried puppets onto the stage, breathed life into them, and began to dance along with them. A (human) woman watched enviously how the manager was flirting with one of the puppets, when suddenly the woman turned into a puppet herself, while the manager mutated into a kurogo. Are we ourselves dancers of our time, or are we controlled like puppets? Even in case we are dancers, the question whether we really act independently remains, while in the latter case, we'll have to ask who it is that controls us.

The "puppets" are of course quite different from those in the days of "Coppelia" or "The Nutcracker". For better or worse, the entire piece was wrapped in a Blade Runner-esque coolness. Puppets, kurogo, and even human performers looked like mere "replicants", however the stage was gradually charged with energy, until finally, accompanied by Stravinsky’s thundering "Rite of Spring", the female puppet (Iseki Sawako) was "sacrificed" and undressed by her puppet friends. When the naked woman broke free from the puppets' circle, she continued to dance like mad until the very end. Even during the curtain call, the stage was still filled with an air of dramatic tension. Iseki and Miyagawa exchanged some intense looks while Nakajima Miyuki was singing her "Okami ni naritai (I want to be a wolf)".
As Kanamori himself affirms, the final scene is an expression of condolence to his master Maurice Bejart, who passed away in November 2007. He also explained that homages were inserted at different points throughout the performance, but frankly speaking, I couldn't help but sense immaturity in this piece. As a matter of fact, one dance critic told me that, compared to "Amjad" by La La La Human Steps, which was performed around the same time, it was "unbearably childish". It was just a brief chat so I don't know more about the critic’s thoughts, but I believe that it’s a little different from the "juvenility" that young dance companies in Japan are sometimes accused of.

Here the body is being stretched, as the performers makes use of their physical strength and technique to the utmost limit, which is exactly what distinguishes this troupe from dancers and dance companies that defiantly declare that they don't (can't) dance because of their constitutional inferiority. It’s very much the attitude of a true Yokozuna who attacks but not dodges. Prankish talk about "infantile build" doesn't apply here.
If there was a notion of "childishness", the problem certainly lies in the circumstances of the time and place we live in, which are necessarily reflected in the piece. Kanamori himself explained, "It’s been six years since I returned to Japan from Europe, so in order to find my bearings back here I just let everything that’s inside me flow out naturally. In the piece, several cards reading "domestic product", "camouflage", "poison", "expiry date" and "CO2" appeared without explanation or context, which was simply too naive and artless, but everything else was successfully depicting the contemporary Japanese disease. The mirror to reflect reality was neatly polished, and it was obviously done by adult hands. That the images seemed "unbearably childish" wasn't a matter of the mirror but of the images themselves, while the mirror did nothing more and nothing less than fulfilling its function properly. "Nameless Hands" will probably not be referred to as Kanamori’s most outstanding work, but in my view it’s certainly an important effort that possibly marks a turning point.
There is one more thing that I'd like to credit Kanamori for. He never fails to appear in talk sessions after the performances, and when asked at this occasion why he is doing these talks each time, Kanamori gave the following explanation that I'd like to share with as many artists and related individuals as possible.
"There are an increasing number of people in the business who say that 'dance has become popular around the world,' but that’s not how I am seeing it. There might be more people 'doing' dance now than before, but I don't think that 'watching' dance has gained in popularity as a culture. Personally I can't agree also with those who say that dancers and choreographers should just keep showing performances. It’s in no way beneficial when the whole thing is a closed affair, but we should be sharing energy through communication. There are things in contemporary dance that can only be explained verbally, so whenever people find something in the performance too enigmatic to understand, I want to encourage them to just come and ask me after the show."
There are no more performances in Tokyo, but "Physical Theater: Nameless Hands" will be staged at the 21st Century Museum of Contemporary Art, Kanazawa, Theater 21 on 7/19 (Sat) and 7/20 (Sun), and at the company’s home turf, Ryutopia / Niigata City Performing Arts Center on 7/ 26 (Sat), 7/27 (Sun), 7/30 (Wed) and 7/31 (Thu).