The Japan Society Review 72
Book, Stage, Film, Arts and Events Review

Issue 72 Volume 12 Number 6 (December 2017)

The December issue of The Japan Society Review closes a
wonderful year of publications, films, performances and events
which have brought Japanese culture, arts and history to a UK
audience. In 2017, the Review has featured over 30, from thelatest anime hits to academic books and stage plays, combining
familiar topics with new approaches and authors. Some
additional reviews appear online only on our website. All thishas been possible only thanks to our enthusiastic reviewers who
have always managed to transmit their knowledge and passion
about Japan in their articles. This issue is especially dedicated tothem with our most sincere gratitude.
In this issue, Sir Hugh Cortazzi reviews The Art of Shiguchi,
which focuses on Japanese art and architecture exploring
the beauty and craftsmanship of the traditional methods ofconstruction, in particular the joins or shiguchi which keep
together the pillars and the beams of old Japanese farm houses.
Next, Trevor Skingle reviews Shimazaki Satoko’s academic work

Edo Kabuki in Transition in which she examines the developments
and changes in kabuki theatre taking as a case study one of its
most famous plays, Tokaido Yotsuya Kaidan.
Japanese literature is also represented in this issue withthe latest translations of books by celebrated Japanese authors

such as Abe Kobo and Murakami Ryu and with the debut novelof British writer James Buckler. Abe’s short novel Beasts Headfor Home, reviewed by David Boyd, is set in war-torn Manchuria
after the collapse of the Japanese Empire, where a teenage maleprotagonist looks for his identity in the new post-war reality.
69 by Murakami Ryu, reviewed by Beau Waycott, focuses on
Japanese counter-culture in the titular year seen through theeyes of a seventeen year old living in rural Japan. Finally, Last Stop
Tokyo by James Buckler is a thriller set in contemporary Tokyo
in which an English teacher is drawn into increasingly complex
and ultimately dangerous circumstances around commercial art
galleries.
Our December issue concludes with a review by Alex Reesof Katsura Sunshine’s rakugo show which ran for two weeks thisautumn at the Leicester Square Theatre in London’s West End.
Thank you for joining us this year to discover the latest
Japan-related writings and productions available in the UK. We
look forward to having your company again in 2018 and, in themeantime, wish all our readers a very merry Christmas and a
happy New Year.

Alejandra Armendáriz-Hernández

Contents
1)

The Art of Shiguchi. Japanese Joinery on Display by
Takishita Yoshihiro

Editor2)

Edo Kabuki in Transition: From the Worlds of the Samurai
to the Vengeful Female Ghost by Shimazaki Satoko

Reviewers

3)

Beasts Head for Home by Abe Kobo

4)

69 by Murakami Ryu

5)

Last Stop Tokyo by James Buckler

6)

Rakugo performed by Katsura Sunshine

Alejandra Armendáriz-HernándezDavid Boyd, Sir Hugh Cortazzi, Alex Rees, Trevor Skingle and Beau
Waycott.
Image from The Art of Shiguchi. Joinery on Display

The Art of Shiguchi. Japanese
Joinery on Display
by Takishita Yoshihiro
Shiguchi-do (2017)(parallel Japanese and English text)

the pillars and beams needed sturdy and carefully
worked joins or shiguchi which had been ‘carved out
by carpenters in total devotion to their craft... Shiguchi
are manifestations of the carpenters’ souls’.

Review by Sir Hugh Cortazzi
Kamakura, the capital of the Minamoto Shoguns in thelate 12th, 13th and early 14th century should be on
the itinerary of any serious visitor to Japan (Exploring
Kamakura by Michael Cooper, first published 1979 is an
excellent little guide). There is so much to see, not least
the temples of Engakuji and Kenchoji, the Hachimangu
and the Daibutsu. Some tireless walkers may amuse
themselves by walking up to Zeni-arai Benten shrine
where they can wash their money in the hope that it
will multiply. The intrepid will continue up to the shrine
on Genjiyama and follow the road along the ridge
where on a clear day there is a fine view towards theIzu peninsula and Mt Fuji. The discerning traveller will
notice on the hill a small group of wooden buildings
which, if he has visited some of the mountains of central
Japan, he will recognize as former farm houses built
in the gassho-zukuri style. This complex includes the‘House of Antiques’ belonging to Takishita Yoshihiro,
the author of this fascinating book.
Takishita Yoshihiro is a man of many talents andskills. He has much knowledge of the arts of Japan andexquisite taste. He is also a master craftsmen and builder
having over many years saved many old farmhouses
from the scrap heap and rebuilt them in other parts ofJapan and places abroad as far away as the Argentine.
He is happy to show the discerning visitor who makes
an appointment in advance some of his treasures.
In the course of his reconstruction of old
Japanese farm houses he was struck by the beautyand craftsmanship of the traditional methods ofconstruction, in particular the way in which heavy
wooden beams were slotted into one another.
Nowadays with modern machinery, steel and concrete
structures we take so much for granted.
Takishita relates in an introductory essay that his
favourite minka (min = people, ka = house) was of
the gassho-zukuri type found in area of Mt Hakusan,
where the winter snows are heavy, and which werebuilt two or three hundred years ago. The process oflowering the truss to the ground caused him ‘many
thrilling moments as hundreds of years of history arebrought to light from the accumulation of generationsof dust’. He realized that to be strong and long lasting2‘A White Pheasant’ (Yoshihiro 2017, pp. 84-85)‘Shinto Priest’ (Yoshihiro 2017, pp. 52-53)

Issue 72, Volume 12, Number 6 (December 2017)

Of course the shiguchi are not visible to the
inhabitants of reconstructed minka, but Takishia
was loath to discard them and kept some of themore interesting examples in his store room. He sawthem as ‘the offspring of nature and necessity... theembodiments of construction, function, practicality
and rationality... brought to life through the blessingsof wood, man’s most precious natural resource’.
This book, in addition to illustrations of someof the shiguchi Takishita-san has kept in his store
room, contains essays by experts and connoisseurs
including ‘The Power of the Shiguchi’ by Peter Grilli,‘Hidden beauty: Art in the the Craft of the Shiguchi’ by

Edward R. Bosley,‘Shiguchi: The Essence of Wooden
Architecture’ by Hiroshi Naito and ‘Shiguchi and a
Sculptor’ by Naoko Kumasaka. Takishita Yoshihiro has
written about ‘The Tree Sprits of Mount Hakusan’.
The book also includes illustrations of the
carpenters’ tools used by the traditional craftsmen who
fashioned these joints. This section reminded me thatonce many years ago I had visited a carpentry museumin Kobe which underlined to me the importance of thejoiner’s craft in a land where in the past all buildings
were of wood and where some of the oldest woodenbuildings in the world are still preserved e.g. in Nara.§

Edo Kabuki in Transition:
From the Worlds of theSamurai to the Vengeful
Female Ghost

Further on in the Introduction the author
proposes her two main issues that inform the restof the book. That kabuki can be perceived in two
ways depending on whether the viewpoint is thatof historical Edo or modern Japan. The first is thatkabuki performances were part of a traditional andcommunity based interactive dynamic and creativesocial process (dento), the ‘ephemera’ of whichhave since been overshadowed and replaced by themodern. This second one is a more static interpretation
which revolves around the text bound handing on
and use of scripts as they are (densho). As a result of
this, kabuki ‘ephemera’ have generally been lost to theworld of modern kabuki. This isn’t very controversial,and it’s a theory that’s not particularly borne out
by modern evidence of the continued interaction
between theatre and audience, including ad hocchanges to the scripts witnessed during around sixty
performances over a period of thirty years, and theinteraction between fans and actors, and fans and theactors’ staff managers or banto san, albeit these days
no doubt to a lesser degree.
She also argues that the historical samurai based
worlds, or sekai, that formed the basis for kabuki inthe past, were gradually replaced around the time of
Nanboku by the notion of the female ghost and its
associations with the intensely emotional feminine
states of jealousy, resentment and desire. The main partof the book expands on and elucidates the theories
expounded in the Introduction occasionally wandering
again into the over romanticised. For instance it is alsosuggested that the communal theatre space was aliminal threshold, a space linked to the realm of otherand that this was suggested by the name of the space
under the stage and hanamichi walkway throughthe audience (naraku meaning hell). This idea comesby Shimazaki Satoko
Columbia University Press (2015)
ISBN-13: 978-0231172264
Review by Trevor Skingle
Quite obviously a long time in the writing, AssistantProfessor of Japanese Literature and Theatre at the
University of Southern California, Shimazaki Satoko’s
seminal work focuses on the developments andchanges in kabuki since the 1825 premiere of Tsuruya
Nanboku IV’s play Tokaido Yotsuya Kaidan (The Ghost
Stories at Yotsuya on the Tokaido). She uses that playand its premiere as a starting point and, contrary towhat is said, as a pivotal point in the history of kabuki.
Importantly though the author does provide an
enlightening contextual exegesis as to the importantdifference between the two in the development ofkabuki plays and their performance.
An early assertion that generally used English
translations of the titles of plays would be used iscontradicted by the author’s translation of the play’s
title into English as ‘The Eastern Seaboard Highway
Ghost Stories at Yotsuya’. This departs somewhat fromthe internationally used English title ‘The Ghost Story of
Yotsuya’, though this is used subsequently throughout
the rest of the book. The reason why the first translation
is initially used is not explained and, though this may
seem a petty point to highlight in light of the academic
rigour of the book, an explanation might have been
helpful.

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3

across as something of a romantic overstatement.
Quite simply put, in the way of Japanese sharé or wordpuns, the reason for this was because it was so dark
and dingy it reminded people of the underworld.
The issue of liminality of theatre space is again
brought up in regard to the theatres use of andproximity to riverbanks as a utopian symbol. Yet no
mention is made of the other extreme, the generally
accepted historical use of the term kawara-kojiki (orriver bank beggars) to refer pejoratively to Edo era
kabuki actors, and riverbanks as places of implicitly
dubious entertainment.
The list of subject areas covered in the book isextensive and these are just a few of the early examples.
A critique of the proposed theories would fill enoughspace to make another book, but then perhaps theintention is for the narrative to be provocative. Suffice
to say that this book does not make easy reading, its
academic distinctiveness leaping from the page. Earlyon it wanders into academic jargo when the reader
would do well to keep a dictionary to hand, ironically not
for the Japanese terms but for the thesis style English.

Many associations in the book are over romanticisedin a predominantly academic way, theories squeezed
to fit the author’s ideas, which can occasionally bequite frustrating. The book works best when it relates
historical facts to support the arguments about thedevelopment of kabuki from the twin perspectives
highlighted previously; dento and densho. It works
least when it wanders off into academic text-babble
musings. There is an extremely useful and informativenotes section which for a book such as this is always
advantageous.
On the whole, the book is a fascinating mix ofthe informative and is scattered throughout withsome obscure historical eyebrow raising facts, andthe author’s weighty theoretical narrative, a daunting
adventure for whoever dares to enter, and a steep
learning curve for the uninitiated. Not for the generalreader, which is ironic considering that kabuki wascreated for the plebeian sections of Japanese society
and at nearly £50 a considered purchase rather thanan impulse buy.§

Beasts Head for Homewas gentle, birds sang, and fish swam’ – came from‘textbooks at school’.
The path from Manchuria to Japan is treacherous,and survival is far from guaranteed. Every step forward
presents another mortal danger, be it natural, animal or
human. Kyuzo’s only company for most of the journey
is a stranger whose name and identity are constantly
in flux. At various stages in the story, the inscrutablecharacter attempts to pass as Chinese, Korean andJapanese. He even tries passing as Kyuzo.
While the two continue their hellish trek together,Kyuzo cannot completely trust the nameless man(I will call him ‘Ko’, one of his aliases). For his part, Ko
trusts no one. As he sees it, the wilderness they areattempting to cross is extremely ‘dangerous’ becauseof its betweenness:‘We’re still at the border between friend andenemy. When all is said and done, I think the mostdangerous thing is a border. They’re more dangerous
than being in the midst of enemies... The next town
is Shuanggang. That’s also on the border. The towns
after that, Kaitong, Bianzhao, Tanyu, Taipingchuan, as
well as the towns thereafter, are all on the border. In
times such as these, the border definitely expands’.
Yet Ko himself is no less dangerous than thesurrounding wilderness. He is a border in human form,
committed to a given identity only to the extent thatby Abe Kobo
translated by Richard F. Calichman
Columbia University Press (2017)
ISBN-13: 978-0231177054
Review by David Boyd
Abe Kobo (1924-1993) often set his stories in worlds
without names or history. Yet, as translator Richard F.
Calichman notes, Beasts Head for Home (1957; trans.
2017) makes fuller use of its setting than most of thewriter’s work. The short novel takes place in war-torn
Manchuria a couple of years after the collapse of theJapanese Empire – a significant moment for Abe, whogrew up in Mukden (present-day Shenyang).
Kuki Kyuzo, the story’s teenage male protagonist,
is still in Manchuria, despite the fact that the vast
majority of Japanese settlers have already been
repatriated. At the outset of the novel, he’s living
among a group of Soviet officers, but soon escapes,
bringing only a few stolen necessities: food, matches,
vodka.
Kyuzo heads for Japan, a homeland he’s neverknown.
Everything he’s learned about Japan – ‘a smilingisland of green surrounded by the sea, where the wind
4

Issue 72, Volume 12, Number 6 (December 2017)

it furthers his chances of survival. For the callow Kyuzo,
on the other hand, national identity is an immutablereality. With time, however, Kyuzo begins to see ‘Japan’differently.
After leaving the Soviet camp, Kyuzo crosses
paths with several people who read or speak Japanese
fluently. In each instance, he asks expectantly: ‘Are you
Japanese?’ Invariably, the answer is ‘No’. Near the endof his journey, Kyuzo finally finds himself in Japanesecompany, but this ethnic community is not the one
promised in his textbooks. As he comes closer to Japan

than ever before, Kyuzo begins to let go of his dreamsof Japan:‘Perhaps Japan doesn’t exist anywhere. With
every step I take, the wasteland walks together with
me. Japan just flees further away...’While this early work differs from Abe’s betterknown novels in some significant ways, Beasts Headfor Home is unmistakably his. Calichman’s masterfultranslation is recommended reading for the uninitiatedreader and diehard Abe fan alike.§

69

Sasebo, consisting primarily of misunderstanding (andthroughly patriotic) adults, sailors from the nearby
US navy base and his scholarly contemporaries, all ofwhom are either deeply insipid or deeply attractive
to Kensuke. Whilst in Tokyo’s numerous universities
there is a movement of common love, leftism andthe ever-playing rolls jazz music, not quite so much in
Sasebo. Ken firstly barricades the school, bringing him
a certain local fame, which even the most superficialof readings make clear Ken (perhaps even in his thirty
year old self) wallows in with absolute pride. This leads
him to host a cultural celebration of film, art and music,planning with no knowledge and the money of various
expendable friends, whom provide the logistics to
Ken’s epic visions.
69 really is an enjoyable read. Written with arelaxed and hugely entertaining register, Murakami
deftly illustrates that adolescence is most certainly
a matter of adult literature when executed with abelievable, and fundamentally relatable, protagonist.
Whilst Ken is sardonic and truly shallow, he represents
two distinct parts of all of us: the overtly cynical and thehopelessly romantic, without patronising us. Although
Murakami does rely heavily on archetypes, they are
employed successfully, managing to convince thereader of Ken’s characterisation, with his friends also
being presented adroitly.
The brevity of physical descriptions also works
impressively to convey Ken’s genuine distaste, themost memorable the description of a chicken farmer
looking ‘exactly as you’d expect a chicken farmer tolook.’ Murakami’s more famous works of prose areentangled with nihilism, gratuitous violence and nearparasitic characters, but 69 is a fast paced and lighthearted text that balances both the innocent and thepolitical through logical description, juxtaposition and-at times- toilet humour.

by Murakami Ryu
translated by Ralph McCarthy
Pushkin Press (2013)
ISBN-13: 978-1908968463
Review by Beau Waycott
For many -myself included-, the introduction to
Japanese literature comes in the form of Murakami
Haruki’s Norwegian Wood, which seems to now
epitomise the idea of contemporary Japanese prose(arguably mistakenly, given its distinctively American
influences). Those wishing to delve further into
Murakami often turn to novels such as The WindUp Bird Chronicle and Kafka on the Shore. However,this poses a dilemma for readers disengaged by the
magical realism and surrealism that permeates (or, if
not, dominates) the rest of Murakami’s works. Strangely,
the novel that comes closest to Norwegian Woodis written by another distinctly separate MurakamiMurakami Ryu and his work 69.
Both 69 and Norwegian Wood share the themeof Bildungsroman throughout their respective plots,
but Murakami Ryu’s 69 is far more focused on the
counter-culture seen throughout rural Japan in thetitular year, with the seventeen year old protagonist,
Yazaki Kensuke, aiming to win popularity and impress
his female contemporaries with voguish -but neverparticularly individual- anti-authoritarian and proWestern views. The differences lie with the twonovels’ protagonists; whilst Kensuke is superficial anddesperately provincial, Norwegian Wood’s Watanabe
Toru is intellectual and slightly more anonymised byhis urban setting.
Told through an extended period of analepsis,
69 introduces us to Kensuke -now in his early thirtiesreflecting on his formative years in a rural town,
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5

But what does Murakami really want us toachieve with reading his novel? In spite of the fact
he has described the work as a Roman à clef, he does
appear to make undisguised criticisms of the student
revolutionary movement of the late sixties, showing
many to be concerned with need either to fill theirego or fill their wallets. Perhaps Murakami wants topersuade us to not lament the inadequacies of modern
living in specious groups and via power-hungry
leaders, but instead tackle such issues head-on.
Despite its first publication in 1987, 69 does
touch on some issues close to home for all today;
the deep longing of Ken’s to escape his communities

conservatism might encapsulate many young proEuropeans; the rejection of societal norms to seektangible change can link clearly with the rise of populist
figures in world politics.
I would recommend 69 firstly to any adolescentto show the ordinariness of what seem the most
extraordinary feelings, but also to any adult who
remembers their juvenescence and is unhappy withthe world today. This is the kind of novel that, yes, iseasily forgettable, but will provide enough of a stimulus
to mourn the inevitable death that everyone’s youth
will one day reach.§

Last Stop Tokyo

which is also applied to other locations. It would have
improved the story somewhat had brief translations of
the phrases been provided and more intimate location
descriptions been included for fans of this oeuvre who
perhaps haven’t visited Japan and aren’t familiar withthe country and the language – a lesson which could
perhaps have been learnt from the insightful style ofwriting in translation in the anthology Tokyo Stories: A
Literary Stroll (University of California Press, 2002).
Though a violent thriller, the lack of serious
menace of the first two thirds of the story is madeup for by the twists and turns in the main plot whichholds together numerous inter-related sub plots which
fortunately don’t become so complex that it is difficult
for the reader to follow the general tenor of the main
story. The flashbacks to the circumstances surroundingAlex’s escape from his family situation back home arehandled well as is that of his seemingly inescapable
descent into the seedy underbelly of the world of thecriminal fraternity in Japan. Some of the unexpected
plot twists do leave the reader trying to second guess
what to expect, the hallmark of a reasonably good
thriller.
Though Buckler’s debut novel takes a while to pickup the pace when it does it makes for an interesting if
not gripping read. Quite where it fits into the genre’s
output isn’t clear; not the in the same easy reading
category as Fran Pickering’s Josie Clark sleuth thrillers(The Tokyo Karaoke Murder, The Cherry Blossom
Murder, The Haiku Murder, The Bullet Train Murder)
but also not in the same deeply disturbing category as
Natsuo Kirino’s innovatively gruesome intrigues (Out,Grotesque, Real World). Perhaps somewhere in the
middle. Not particularly a ‘can’t put it down’ but moreof a ‘savour it at regular intervals’ book.

by James Buckler
Doubleday (2017)
ISBN-13: 978-0857524973
Review by Trevor Skingle
James Buckler’s debut novel Last Stop Tokyo follows
Alex Malloy who escapes to Japan to get away from thedisgrace that he feels as a result of a deeply traumaticfamily incident involving his outwardly respectablebrother over which he tries to exert some control withtragic consequences. He gets a job in Tokyo teaching
English and, as a result of his naiveté and his initiallytrusting nature, finds himself through his relationshipwith his girlfriend, the perplexing, manipulative andself-serving Naoko Yamamoto. Alex ends up being
drawn deeper and deeper into increasingly complex,
difficult and ultimately dangerous and deadly
circumstances, which seem to revolve – to a greaterand lesser degree throughout the book – around thecommercial art gallery sector.
The two main characters, Alex and Naoko,
are quite rightfully well-developed though it wasdifficult to imagine two of the other key characters,
Jun the Yakuza henchman and Megumi the twisted
psychopathic gallery associate of Naoko, as multifaceted and three dimensional. They deserved much
more character development as did other seemingly
pivotal figures in the plot such as Alex’s friend Hiro, thePolice Officers Inspector Saito and his assistant Officer
Tomada, and Alex’s parents, especially his mother.
Occasionally Japanese phrases are included but
not translated, and there is a visit to the popular Tokyo
resort town of Karuizawa which is accompanied with
only a superficial description of the resort, an approach
6

Issue 72, Volume 12, Number 6 (December 2017)

In a predominantly crimeless Japan it is interestingthat crime novels have become such a popular readyet it doesn’t quite feel like Buckler has managed to
get under the skin of the Japanese and the Yakuza, andcaptured the way that they interact with each other
and, potentially, with foreigners in the way that otherwriters of thrillers located in Japan, especially native
Japanese authors, do so well. Consequently, though
Buckler obviously knows Japan having worked there
as a teacher (1), as a debut thriller it feels a little clichéd
and as such could really have been located in any
major city in the world. This is not the Tokyo that most
seasoned visitors and foreign residents know and love..
This is a Tokyo of the imagination, a darker shade ofa somewhat brighter city that the reader should only
take seriously for the purposes of Buckler’s story.
In summary as his debut novel Last Stop Tokyo
could be regarded with some leeway as a ‘bedding

in’ publication by a novice author, something which
isn’t limited to Buckler; there having been some pretty
dismal attempts at English language serial crime
novels located in Japan that leave an awful lot to be
desired. However that being said what definitely does
come across is that there is a glimmer with Last Stop
Tokyo of future promise and that with further work
on character and plot development, a little stylistic
tweaking and a tighter plot line that future novels inthis genre by Buckler will hit much closer to the target.

Rakugohis early successes in theatre in his native Canada,
he moved to Japan and completed a full Kamigata
apprenticeship under master and TV presenter Katsura
Bunkyo VI, who awarded Katsura Sunshine his stage
name as per rakugo tradition. Mr Sunshine has been
performing rakugo worldwide ever since, in English
and in Japanese, and across 4 continents.
For those unfamiliar with rakugo, “traditional
minimalist one-man storytelling from Japan” maysound like a daunting choice of entertainment. This
becomes even more confusing if you try to apply
whatever image this conjures to Katsura Sunshine;a broad-faced and beaming westerner with spiky,
buttercup blonde hair, dressed in a traditional kimonothat he wears so comfortably it looks like he wasborn in it, and armed with a name that seems almost
deliberately esoteric. However, everything clicks into
place when you see him perform. Sunshine is not justan excellent storyteller, he’s also adroitly aware of how
he straddles the cultural divide. By using this to hisadvantage he makes a unique performance that canbe enjoyed by connoisseurs and newcomers alike.
The meat of his performance lies in his renditionsof classic rakugo tales; witty stories that build up yourexpectations with elaborate set-up before paying off
with a laugh-out-loud punchline (several punchlines, if
you’re lucky). On the night I attended we were treatedto three of the more “traditional” rakugo stories. The
first was Jugemu, a shaggy-dog story about a boy witha very long name; a name which Sunshine ably rattled
off several times to increasingly impressed applause.

performed by Katsura
Sunshine
Leicester Square
Theatre, London(30 September to 15
October 2017)
Review by Alex Rees

Rakugo (落語, meaning “fallen words”) is one of theJapanese performance traditions we are fortunate
enough to experience today, as a result of an unbroken
chain of teaching that stretches back at least to the18th century. Equipped with only a fan (sensu) anda hand towel (tenugui) for props, and kneeling on apillow for the entire performance, the lone rakugoka
monologues comedic stories, tales, and anecdotes
to their audience. These stories often require theperformer to play several characters at once, which
they differentiate through tone of voice, gesture, andchanges in the angle of the head. The limitations placedon the performer and vast repertoires of stories thathave to be memorised necessitate years of training ina traditional master-apprentice relationship. There are
two recognised traditions of professional rakugo thattrain in this way: the “Edo” school of Tokyo, and the“Kamigata” school of Osaka.
Mr Katsura Sunshine is the first non-Japanesepractitioner of the latter, only the second nonJapanese to be trained in either school, and the only
living, professional, non-Japanese rakugoka. Following
Latest reviews: www.japansociety.org.uk/resources/reviews/(1) James Buckler grew up in the South West of
England and currently lives in London. He spent sometime as an English teacher in Japan. He studied film at
the University of Westminster and worked in film andTV for many years, most notably as a post-production
specialist for MTV and BBC Films.§

7Later came Momotaro, a Princess Bride style telling ofa Japanese father recounting the folktale Momotaro to
his Japanese-Scottish-American son, which Sunshine
neatly wove into a parable of the differences andsimilarities between Japanese and Western culture.
Lastly we had and another rakugo classic,
Chiritotechin, where two conniving friends set up an
ungrateful acquaintance with a nasty “delicacy”. These
parts of the show are where the methods andtechnique of rakugo are most evident, where the workthat Sunshine has put into his storytelling art clearly
and repeatedly pays off. Sunshine makes full use of themime, masterful pacing, and careful articulation thatrakugo offers, pairing them with his natural flair for
telling a good story. Often it feels like this combination
is so seamless that one loses sight of the individual
techniques and become fully immersed in his flow.

keeping the pace of the show varied and keeping theaudience up to speed. These sections don’t obviously
involve the “rakugo techniques” to the same extent,
but they are welcome additions to the night andSunshine delivers them with a great deal of sparkly wit.
This is aided by Sunshine’s extremely genial
performance style. He is unafraid to discuss his
methods, and yet is also very modest; he is boisterously
enthusiastic, but never boastful or aggressive, likemany stand-up comedians. He seems to consider his
performance something he enjoys sharing with his
audience, and is an extremely attentive host. Indeed,
he goes to striking lengths to keep the show accessible;
very little knowledge of Japan or rakugo is assumed,
and where it is necessary Sunshine goes to great
length to prime the audience first. On occasion he eveninvolves the audience by teaching a little Japanese.

To achieve this Sunshine compliments the mainstories with a wealth of freeform anecdotes, about
rakugo itself of course, but also Japan and Japaneseculture more generally, and often concerning his own(mis)adventures. On the night I attended, they included
accounts of keigo honourific language, sake drinking
etiquette, tales of Sunshine’s own apprenticeship, andhow he dealt with an audience who just wouldn’t stop
filming him. These are interspersed among the actual
rakugo stories and take up a good half of the runtime,

If this sounds dangerously like “edutainment”,
it certainly doesn’t feel like it, and Sunshine makes
learning a pleasure through constant encouragement.
All this comes together to make a show that is
at once recognisably rakugo, and yet also uniquely
Katsura Sunshine’s, a one-of-a-kind performance
which will leave you tickled and feeling like you’ve
learnt something new. If there’s any way to get intorakugo, it’s through him.§

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