Jan Bardsley

Professor Emerita, Asian and Middle Eastern Studies, UNC Chapel Hill

Tag: maiko (Page 4 of 4)

Maiko strap
Photo: Jan Bardsley Mar 2021

Maiko and the Charm of Small Things

March 22, 2021 / / 6 Comments

 

Maiko turn up in Kyoto as all kinds of small things.
How does that affect their public persona?

Maiko Stickers.
https://hyogensha.net/products19/card/seal.pdf

Maiko keychains, stickers, cell-phone straps, and tiny candies abound in souvenir shops—a veritable cornucopia of girlish delights.  Uniformly bright, perky, and inexpensive, they fit easily in your pocket. Portable talismans of kawaii, like Hello Kitty goods, they bring a dash of charm to daily routines.

But Hello Kitty is a fiction. Maiko are real people. So, how do these charming “small things” help define the public image of the maiko herself?  Three aspects stand out.

1．Maiko are childlike.

Child maiko. 1920s.
Photo by Kurokawa Suizan.
Kyoto Institute, Library and Archives.

Many souvenir maiko look cherubic. This recalls how maiko of the 1920s and 1930s really were children, sometimes as young as eleven. Now maiko trainees (shikomi) must be at least fifteen years old. Still, an air of girlish innocence remains essential to the maiko’s appeal.  In Maiko Masquerade, I discuss how some maiko find “living down” to this naivete constraining, while others feel free in their girl role.

Of course, even ferocious characters like Godzilla can become childlike as plastic toys. The maiko’s girlish persona makes the transformation especially easy.

 2. Maiko are kawaii.

Maiko candies.
Photo: Jan Bardsley Mar 2021.

The maiko defines a certain stripe of kawaii. The kind of kawaii that sits at  “the juncture of ‘cute,’ ‘tiny,’ or ‘lovable” (Merriam-Webster).  According to scholar Joshua Paul Dale, kawaii things convey the “unabashed joy found in the undemanding presence of innocent, harmless, adorable things.”

While “kawaii” encompasses different registers, including the grotesque and creepy, maiko kawaii embraces this sense of  “unabashed joy.”

Travel and fashion guides portray the maiko, too, as a fan of kawaii things. She likes bite-size sushi and colorful fruit sandwiches. She may carry Minnie Mouse or Hello Kitty goods in her handbag.  In the Kyoto visual field, the kawaii maiko and her adorable souvenir likeness blend to produce an aura of charm.

As Kyoto girl and Kyoto souvenir, the maiko lightens the cultural weight of ancient temples, gardens, and Zen-inspired arts. Transferred into countless small objects, the maiko makes Kyoto accessible and consumable. Yet, as Kyoto’s mascot, the maiko continually reminds tourists that they are in the old capital.

3. Maiko make Kyoto a girls’ playground.

Maiko strap

Photo: Jan Bardsley Mar 2021

Charming maiko goods, kawaii maiko images recreate Kyoto as a leisure space friendly to girls and women.  While the historical maiko emerged, too, in a world of play for purchase, it was a world geared to providing pleasure to Japanese men.  Contemporary maiko and their souvenir look-alikes, however, shift the concern from pleasing men to inviting girls to have fun. Girlish play extends into all kinds of small consumables and sweet experiences. Crossing gender boundaries, tourists of all sexes today may enjoy the invitation to have fun.

The maiko trinkets on my desk and bookcase always make me smile. Maybe they’re telling me to relax and enjoy the moment.

 

Jan Bardsley, “Maiko and the Charm of Small Things,” janbardsley.web.unc.edu.  March 22, 2021.

 

 

Ōishi Kuranosuke Yoshio, Leader of the Forty-Seven Loyal Retainers. Artist: Tsukioka Yoshitoshi (Japan, 1839-1892). Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Wikimedia Commons.

Maiko, Noodles, and the 47 Rōnin

March 18, 2021 / / 2 Comments

The Storehouse of Loyalty – Chūshingura (47 Rōnin) ukiyo-e set by Hiroshige Utagawa, circa 1836.  Wikimedia Commons.

Maiko dancing and serving soba noodles to guests?  What was the story behind this March event?  In today’s post, I take up an annual Gion event with one foot in history and the other in myth.

Honoring Ōishi Kuranosuke, Leader of the 47 Rōnin

Ichiriki Teahouse Photo: Mariemon Wikimedia Commons

On March 20, Gion Kōbu honors the memory of Kyoto revolutionary Ōishi Kuranosuke, the leader of the 47 rōnin (masterless men). The ceremony takes place at the exclusive Gion teahouse, Ichiriki. Only regular clients are invited.

Inoue Yachiyo V Vhttps://www.kyo.or.jp/brand/award/grand.html

At the Ichiriki ceremony, Inoue Yachiyo V, designated a Living National Treasure, performs.  She dances Fukaki kokoro (Deep Heart) in front of a Buddhist mortuary tablet (ihai) honoring the men.  Maiko and geiko also dance.  They later serve tea and hand-made soba noodles to the guests (Mizobuchi, 15).

Who was Ōishi Kuranosuke? What’s his connection to Gion?

As part of an elaborate plot to avenge the death of his lord, the stalwart Ōishi assumed deep cover by disguising his true character. He played the part of a dissolute. For two years,  he frequented the Ichiriki teahouse until he and the 47 rōnin were ready to attack and kill their lord’s enemy.  The men were arrested and ordered to commit ritualized suicide (seppuku), which they did on March 20, 1703. Long romanticized in all manner of Japanese arts as symbolizing samurai loyalty, Ōishi and the 47 rōnin are buried at Sengakuji, a Zen temple near Shinagawa, Tokyo—their graveyard now a tourist site.

Why soba noodles?

Photo Masaaki Komori  Unsplash

Lori Brau highlights the soba symbolism here. She explains how  uchiiri soba (soba of the raid) allude to the story that Ōishi and his band gathered at a soba shop. They ate this simple meal together before launching their raid and accomplishing their vendetta. Brau notes, “Soba’s tendency to break easily, due to its lack of gluten (which adds viscosity), renders it an apt symbol for parting (71).”

According to Lesley Downer, doubt exists as to whether the current Ichiriki was actually the site of Ōishi ’s debauchery. But, the connection has worked in the teahouse’s favor as “there were always people willing to dissipate an evening at the scene of the most celebrated partying in Japanese history (162).”

Why do tales of the 47 Rōnin  endure?

The Gion ceremony offers only one way of remembering Ōishi and the 47 Rōnin. All manner of art forms–puppet theater, Noh, film and TV, graphic novels and anime–have recounted versions of the tale. The tale has been put in service of widely different movements, including “popular rights, Christianity, capitalism, Marxism, pacifism, and contemporary cartoon culture (Tucker, 3).”

I caught up with John Tucker, Professor of History at East Carolina University, to ask why the tale endures. He’s the author of The Forty-Seven Rōnin: The Vendetta in History (Cambridge UP, 2018).   John responded, “The historic 47 Rōnin vendetta became an unparalleled sensation in Japan due to its retelling on stage as Chūshingura (Storehouse of Loyal Retainers). And of the eleven acts in that play, the most popular ones present Ōboshi Yuranosuke (Ōishi  Kuranosuke) as a dissolute hedonist enjoying himself in Kyoto’s pleasure quarters even while plotting to take murderous revenge on his late-lord’s enemy.”

Ōishi’s “shrewd tango with life”

Author John A. Tucker
Cambridge UP, 2018

“Everyone knows the grisly end and so relishes the chance to share vicariously Ōishi’s last and quite shrewd tango with life,” explained John. “After all, his time in the pleasure quarters made Ōishi most fully human, alive with passions and flaws even if the latter were so much subterfuge for his mortal sincerity and lethal vengeance. In affirming life unto death, Ōishi epitomized an existential ideal that all admire, though few might actually realize.”

Want to learn more?  I recommend John Tucker’s The Forty-Seven Rōnin for an approachable, well-researched guide. Historian Peter Nosco praises the book as,  “The definitive book-length study by a uniquely qualified scholar of one of Japanese history’s most contested events.”   Perhaps read The Forty-Seven Rōnin this March while enjoying soba.

References

Brau, Lori. 2018. “Soba, Edo Style:  Food, Aesthetics, and Cultural Identity.” In Devouring Japan: Perspectives on Japanese Culinary Identity, edited by Nancy Stalker,  65-80.  New York: Oxford University Press.

Downer, Lesley. 2002. Women of the Pleasure Quarters: The Secret History of the Geisha. New York: Broadway.

Mizobuchi Hiroshi.  2002.  Kyoto kagai. Kyoto: Mitsumura Suiko Shoin Publishing Co., Ltd.

Tucker, John A.  2018. The Forty-Seven Rōnin: The Vendetta in History.  Cambridge University Press.

Jan Bardsley, “Maiko, Noodles, and the 47 Rōnin,” janbardsley.web.unc.edu.  March 18, 2021.

March 5, 2021 / / 1 Comment

Maiko Manners:  Bowing to the Telephone Pole

Boudewijn Huysmans
Unsplash

Bow— even when you see a telephone pole.

電信棒見ても、おたのもうします。

Respect for hierarchy forms the bedrock of  maiko manners. When she encounters any of her superiors, geiko or senior maiko on an afternoon walk, for example, the maiko must stop, bow, and greet the other. Being in a rush is no excuse to forego this ritual.

This behavior becomes so ingrained that, as the saying exaggerates, the maiko will even accord a telephone pole the same respect since it is “higher” than she.

The maiko, using the hanamachi dialect, humbly requests the other’s favor or guidance. Otanomō shimasu. One of the first phrases she learns as a trainee.

Professor Kumiko Nishio, who researches maiko training, explains how the greeting ritual benefits the brand-new trainee (18-21).  Too new to her hanamachi to know its community members well, the trainee must make a favorable impression on all she meets. Whether or not she knows them yet.  After all, these elders can positively influence her career, recommending her for parties and other assignments. Conversely, ignoring greetings would be a sign of disrespect.

Only in Kyoto?

It’s tempting to consider this emphasis on formal greetings a quaint custom of the hanamachi. But I remember many years ago hearing an American university leader advise assistant professors concerned about gaining tenure in the U.S.  He urged them to get in the habit of greeting their department colleagues. Worried, one young person asked, “But what can I do?  My office isn’t even in the same building as my department.” The leader responded, “Then, go to the department every day to check your mail. Greet people. Make yourself known.”

Even when you see a passing car with your superiors aboard…..

Sometimes signs of respect in the hanamachi can be taken to comic extremes. Kiriki Chizu, a maiko in the late 1960s, recalls repeatedly being told, “Don’t forget your greetings even when you see your sempai geiko in a car coming down the road (32).”

Once, completely unaware, she failed to heed this advice.

Photo by Jie on Unsplash

She did not notice the car with her geiko colleagues aboard.

An offended geiko swiftly complained to Kiriki’s elder sister, who scolded her.  Kiriki knew it was useless to explain how the light shining on the car windows must have prevented her from seeing who was inside. This “excuse” would not work in Gion and she had to apologize to the geiko, promising to take more care in the future.

As a retired geiko, Kiriki tries not to place maiko and young geiko in tricky greeting situations. Many may get the sense when they see her walking in the hanamachi that she is somehow connected to the community. Not knowing the retiree’s name or position makes them uncomfortable, unsure of what to do. Kiriki tries to put them at ease by avoiding  meeting their eyes and simply walking on. They seem relieved.

When in doubt— bow.

References:

Kiriki Chizu. Aisare jōzu ni naru Gion-ryū: Onna migaki [The Gion way to skill in becoming loveable: A woman’s polish]. Tokyo: Kōdansha, 2007.

Nishio Kumiko.  Maiko no kotoba: Kyoto hanamachi hitosodate no gokui [Maiko language: Training secrets from the Kyoto hanamachi]. Tokyo: Tōyō Keizai Shinpōsha, 2012.

Jan Bardsley, “Maiko Manners: Bowing to the Telephone Pole,” janbardsley.web.unc.edu. March 5, 2021

I designed this website and blog for educational and informational purposes only. I strive to  locate the names of the creators of texts and images cited, and properly acknowledge them.

Welcome to my blog

March 3, 2021 / / 14 Comments

Solar Dolls.　”We bow with solar power.”
https://store.shopping.yahoo.co.jp/tennmaya/303-010.html

Welcome to my blog

Happy Girls’ Day!  Celebrated in Japan on March 3 with displays of dolls representing the ancient court,  Girls’ Day features special foods, too. Now there’s even a KitKat bar flavored like “strawberry daifuku” (mochi balls filled with strawberries), a Girls’ Day treat.

 

For my Girls’ Day celebration, I’m choosing to display solar-powered maiko dolls.  The dolls capture the playful spirit of maiko souvenirs. Solar dolls coax you to relax, smile, and show your childlike side. The perky solar maiko atop my desk reminds me to have fun with this blog.

Toy maiko solar

Solar maiko  also calls to mind the associations of “solar power” and feminism in Japan. In 1911 when Seitō (Bluestockings) burst on the scene, it’s rallying cry became, “In the beginning, woman was the sun.”

Manga artist Takenaka Ranko’s 1996 graphic history of the Bluestockings and leader Hiratsuka Raichō

Produced by young Japanese women in Tokyo, Seitō invited women to seek adventure and expand their boundaries, even as they advocated for education and equality.

My blog follows these twin trajectories, having fun while expanding knowledge. I begin with posts about maiko, Kyoto’s apprentice geisha. Researching my book Maiko Masquerade, I ran into lots of stories about maiko and geisha past and present, about art and objects, books and movies, people and places. I’m writing this blog to tell these stories, the comic and the serious, and share images. Let’s see where this solar-powered path goes.

I look forward to your comments. Happy Girls’ Day and thanks for visiting.
Jan Bardsley.

Jan Bardsley, “Welcome to my blog,” janbardsley.web.unc.edu. March 3, 2021

I designed this website and blog for educational and informational purposes only. I strive to  locate the names of the creators of texts and images cited, and properly acknowledge them.

 

 

 

Maiko Yumehana photographed near Tatsumi Daimyōjin Shrine. NHK TV Guide to drama Dandan, 2008.  Japan Broadcasting Publishing Association

Celestial Rescue for the Anxious Maiko

September 29, 2020 / / 6 Comments

Closing her eyes, she clasps her hands. The maiko prays before the Shinto shrine. Her silver kanzashi hair ornament glitters. But her anxious posture shows how much she wants the kami to hear her plea.

Who is this anxious maiko?
Why does she pray for celestial comfort at this shrine?

The maiko is Yumehana (given name Nozomi), the TV drama is Dandan, and her anxieties center on dance. It has been a tough day.  First, we saw Yumehana’s dance teacher harshly correcting her at the morning lesson. Next, we saw Yumehana’s rival, maiko Suzuno, taunting her at the evening party. Wickedly clever, Suzuno even maneuvered Yumehana into performing her weakest dance in front of clients at the party.  Desperate to improve her dance skills —the maiko’s signature art—Yumehana makes her plea at Tatsumi Daimyōjin Shrine辰巳大明神神社.

Tatsumi Daimyōjin Shrine, petite and unassuming, sits right at the heart of Gion’s most photographed, picturesque location.

You will find the shrine at the foot of Tatsumi Bridge which spans Shirakawa (White River), a gentle stream. Old teahouses on one side of Shirakawa amid weeping cherry trees make this a picturesque sight. One of the most photographed in Kyoto, the scene calls to mind romantic notions of Gion’s past.

Photo of bridge over Shirakawa stream in Gion.

Taken on 26 July 2010. Credit gorian21  Wiki Commons.

But what attracts maiko Yumehana here to pray for dance proficiency? 
A little digging produced two important clues.

First, we learn that the kami of the shrine is Benzaiten 弁財天, who is “a deity highly popular among artists and musicians, as a patroness and guardian deity of the arts (Reader).”

Wooden sculpture of the goddess Benzaiten at the Hogon-ji Temple. Watsky, A. M. (2004).  Wikimedia Commons

Originally a Hindu deity, Benzaiten, also known as Benten, has found homes in Japan in Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines alike. She’s also one of the Seven Lucky Gods, “a multicultural, mixed gender, and religiously diverse group of deities who share the common cause of providing benefits to people (Reader & Tanabe,157).”

 

Next, we find that the sound “tatsu” in Tatsumi reminds us of the verb tatsu, “to improve one’s skill.” In fact, maiko and geiko really do pray for arts improvement at Tatsumi Daimyōjin Shrine, invoking Benzaiten’s blessings to “improve” their arts.

But Dandan does not leave everything up to Benzaiten. 

When Yumehana’s mother, the successful geiko Hanayuki, catches sight of her daughter, viewers see her empathy. Hanayuki remembers battling the same anxiety in her own maiko days.  But she faces Yumehana with practical advice and parental tough love, “Well, if that’s the case, then there’s nothing else to do but concentrate on your lessons every single day.”

The scene underscores one of the prime messages of Dandan—struggle against insecurity and work hard at achieving your goals.

Setting this exchange at Tatsumi Daimyōjin Shrine, Dandan acquaints viewers with this small Gion landmark, inviting us to find out about its history and the celestial comfort it offers to townspeople and artists alike.

Visitors to Kyoto can easily find Tatsumi Daimyōjin Shrine on tourist maps of the Gion. Shinto ceremonies are performed at the shrine four times a year by a priest from the much larger Fushimi Inari Shrine.  The petite shrine is especially beautiful in spring when nearly covered by the weeping cherries.

Featured Image:  Maiko Yumehana photographed near Tatsumi Daimyōjin Shrine. NHK TV Guide to drama Dandan, 2008.  Japan Broadcasting Publishing Association.

References:

Gion Shopping Street Promotion Associates  祇園商店街振興組合  Japanese-language website: https://www.gion.or.jp/about/

Ian Reader. 2008. Shinto. Simple Guides series.  Kuperard.

Ian Reader and George J. Tanabe. 1998. Practically religious: Worldly benefits and the common religion of Japan. Honolulu: University of Hawaiì Press.

Jan Bardsley, “Celestial Rescue for the Anxious Maiko.” janbardsley.web.unc.edu  Sept. 29. 2020
This blog is for educational purposes only. I strive to locate and credit all sources and images cited here.

 

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