Nureki Chimuo Archive

I wrote that the theater company “Tobu” is a distinguished troupe with a long history, established prestige, and considerable talent.

This “Tobu” is recorded in the “Encyclopedia of Performing Arts,” published in 1953 by a reputable and established publishing house.

I would like to list the name of this publisher, as well as the names of the authors and editors. However, as mentioned earlier, I anonymized the “Tobu” troupe itself so I cannot publicly disclose this information here.

This has resulted in a somewhat awkward situation, but I hope you will forgive me.

Having chosen to live only in places where the sun never shines, I also feel the urge to record that I was once connected to such a theater company.

Perhaps it is the only past I can speak of with pride.

I don’t think I need to belittle myself this much, but past traumas have made me this cautious, this cowardly.

(I’d like to write about this trauma in detail someday.)

However, this sense of inferiority stemming from the trauma also supports my work in some ways, so it’s not entirely negative.

I suspect I have a tendency to embrace trauma like stroking a cat’s head.

Theater Company Tobu

Today, the issue of children’s culture is being vigorously discussed, and the necessary facilities for it are gradually being established. This is undoubtedly a cause for celebration. Yet, the current reality that we still lack even a single children’s theater is infinitely saddening for the world of children. Despite this lament, we cannot help but express our heartfelt respect for the efforts of the various children’s theater troupes that continue to perform sequentially in certain limited venues. On the other hand, it is truly lamentable that such efforts still receive far too little attention from society at large and from ordinary households. It is said that there are currently over sixty children’s theater groups nationwide, with Tokyo alone boasting more than thirty. Yet the vast majority are merely children’s club-style organizations, and only a handful demonstrate the activities of a truly professional children’s theater company. Among them, the only troupe that has consistently pursued “the pursuit of high artistic quality for children to watch and the exploration of theatrical genres” as its motto, enduring a history of hardship spanning the past twenty five years, is the “Tobu” troupe. The theater troupe “Tobu” was founded in May 1928 by Miyatsu Hiroshi and Shibata Keiichi, making its debut at the Koshikawa Goten club in Tokyo with its first performance, “The Lion Who Forgot His Debt of Gratitude.” In 1929, their seventh production, “The Fox’s Trial,” marked their first step into Waseda University’s Okuma Auditorium, which was also the first step toward establishing fairy tale theater. Since then, their performances in Tokyo, culminating in “Snow White” and “Spring Children’s Songs” at the Mitsukoshi Theater in August 1952, have reached a total of eighty-five performances. During this period, beginning with the December 1933 production of “Don Quixote” at the Tsukiji Small Theater, the troupe maintained vigorous activity, staging adaptations of foreign masterpieces, advocating realism in children’s theater, and presenting original plays. In October 1939, they performed “Kaze no Matsaburo” and “The World of Ghosts” at the Yurakuza Theater, marking their first entry into a major Tokyo venue. The troupe also ventured into film, collaborating with studios like Nikkatsu Tamagawa and Shochiku Ofuna to produce children’s films such as “Tora-chan’s Diary,” “Kaze no Matsaburo,” and “The Sailor.” In 1941 (Showa 16), a formal contract was signed with Toho, marking the troupe’s transition to a semi-professional status. During the war years, they undertook comfort tours to Manchuria and Korea, and also continued touring various regions to entertain evacuated schoolchildren. After the war, while performing in Tokyo, the troupe focused primarily on touring schools and traveling performances in the provinces. They left their footprints throughout every prefecture and city nationwide, from Hokkaido in the north to Kyushu in the south. In June 1952 (Showa 27), under the sponsorship of the Ministry of Education, the Tokyo Metropolitan Board of Education, and the Asahi Shimbun, they staged the five-act, seven-scene play “The Wild Duck in the City” by Kuri Kikuoka as their 25th anniversary commemorative performance at the Imperial Theater, continuing their legacy to this day.1

The above is the introduction to “Theater Company Tobu” as published in the 1953 edition of the “Encyclopedia of Performing Arts.”

I knew of this “Tobu” company from childhood, without anyone ever telling me about it.

1

While Nureki anonymized the Theater Company name, he was not very creative. The company in question is “Todo. (劇団東童)”

This means I must have been interested in theatrical activities since my elementary school days. More than interest, it was a longing.

And the “Tobu” theater company had been performing in a way that seemed dazzling to my eyes, even during the war years.

Writer Tsune Yamanaka has a profound work titled, “We, the Young Citizens.”

The copy I own is the 1989 Kodansha Bunko edition, but it was originally serialized in the quarterly magazine “Bengyo” published by Keisoshobo before being released as a standalone book.

For someone like me who lived through the “We, the Young Citizens” era, it is a labor of love packed with heart-wrenching, poignant content that cuts deep upon reading.

Born in 1931 (Showa 6), Tsune Yamanaka meticulously documents, based on extensive materials, the dehumanizing education and unreasonable pressures imposed by the powerful figures of the “Greater Japanese Empire” that he experienced in the national schools and junior high schools during the war.

Tsune Yamanaka and I are only one year apart in age, meaning we were raised within the same generation.

For example, in January 1940, I was gathered at the Imperial Palace Plaza as a representative of sixth-grade national school students. Alongside thousands of other pupils, I was forced to sing the “Hymn Celebrating the 2,600th Anniversary of the Founding of Japan.”

I still remember the freezing cold of my fingers as I stood rigidly in the biting wind on the Imperial Palace Plaza, not even allowed to put my hands in my coat pockets while singing.

However, I am not introducing the book “We, the Young Citizens” here because I wish to write about such things.

It is because this book contains the cover photograph from the program for a performance by the theater troupe “Tobu.”

I imagine the author would find it deeply offensive that someone like me would use the profoundly valuable content of this “We, the Young Citizens,” but I humbly ask for your forgiveness.

The cover photo from that “Tobu” program is printed full-page, so the text is clearly legible.

“Selected for the Imperial Era 2,600th Anniversary Celebration Performing Arts Festival Sponsored by the Japan Cultural Federation”

Under this title,

“Yamada Kosaku - Children at Dawn” is listed.

According to Tsune Yamanaka’s writing, this was a prize-winning entry. Directed by Keisuke Tsutsui, it was performed from November 5th to 10th, 1940, at the New National Theater and the Tsukiji Small Theater, which had just changed its name that month. Set design was by Keiichi Shibata.

“Simultaneously, three war poems were recited under the direction of Miyatsu Hiroshi. The latter half saw daily sold out performances. The three war poems were ‘Comfort Packet’ by Yamamoto Kazuo, ‘Triumphant Troops’ by Kusano Shinpei, and ‘Fighting Soldier Ants’ by Yoda Jun’ichi.”

So writes Tsune Yamanaka.

Furthermore, the cover of the program prominently printed in large letters states that this stage production was the “45th Performing Arts Festival Production of the Tobu Theater Company.”

In this tense and unsettled era, “Tobu” was a theater company boasting an impressive forty-five productions.

In other words, what I mean to say is that, though only for a brief period, the theater company “Tobu” that I belonged to was, at that time, such a so-called “major” presence.

This fact remains etched deep within my heart as a quiet “pride.”

During that harsh war, Tobu was a troupe that could be called “major” precisely because, in order to continue its pure children’s theater movement, it sometimes had to curry favor with those in power and perform plays with a strong whiff of militarism.

It was a troupe with a solid track record, properly recorded in the history of Japanese theater.

If you defy those in power, you cannot become major.

From the day I was born, I have lived only in poor, miserable circumstances, far removed from the world called “mainstream.”

I feel as if I have always lived in the shadows, furtively avoiding the eyes of those in power, with a sense of servility.

That doesn’t mean I ever yearned for the “mainstream,” though.

I prefer the damp shade to the mainstream.

I’m convinced the environment surrounding me was always miserable, poor, and painted in dark colors.

It’s true I grew up in the midst of war and my family was poor, but perhaps my innate penchant for decadent tastes turned me into someone who finds pleasure in that submissive, defeated dog mentality.

I even find myself captivated by the image of myself, in that underdog posture, watching gloomily from the shadows. I think this sense of delight is ugly and base.

I’m twisted. A nasty character.

Yet, there’s also a part of me, however small, that finds myself drawn to the “mainstream.”

If I lived each day aiming for the “mainstream,” my mood would be brighter and easier. Life would be simpler.

But for me, hiding in a dark, sulky, shadowy place brings deeper pleasure than the “mainstream.”

I find my own personality complex and chaotic. There have been nights I’ve agonized alone in self-loathing.

Yet, this boy with such strong inferiority and a twisted personality grew up to be a man with the profession of Nureki Chimuo.