You knew something extraordinary was up even before the dragon ended up in the audience.
The electricity in the air had been mounting for the past hour as the performers got more and more intimate with the crowd, first teasing with a shower of fortune candies then climaxing with five vividly-coloured serpents violently twirling their ways through a packed audience seated on the Tatami floor. Like a few others I received a small bruise on my thigh from a slap of a serpent's wooden tail, though I didn't think anyone seriously minded.
While it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience for a wide-eyed Canadian traveling through this remote stretch of the Western Japanese coastline, for residents of the little hotspring town it was just your typical Saturday night, when the entire community would congregate inside a 16th Century shrine to enjoy 90 minutes of a mystic ancient performing art.
It was an evening of Kagura, an archaic theatrical dance originating from Shinto rituals and evolved over the course of a millennium into popular folk entertainment, especially here in rural Japan. Tonight's programme included dueling swordsmen in extravagant armours, a Prince Charming clad in gleaming white arriving to rescue a fair maiden, and an 8-headed dragon emerging out of a dense artificial mist that would engulf the entire venue.
Despite reputations as a dying tradition elsewhere in Japan, Kagura is proudly flourishing in western Shimane where over a hundred troupes actively perform for local aficionados at regularly scheduled plays and annual festivals. We specifically tweaked our itinerary to coincide with the weekly performance at the World Heritage town of Yunotsu, where audiences young and old would cram into little Tatsunogozen shrine at 20:00 every Saturday of the year.
And the locals would continuously pack into the standing room outside the shrine's screen doors to a degree that would surely violate all fire regulations for a 400-year-old wooden heritage building. Sharply at 20:00 the overture was initiated by a Japanese quartet consisting of a bamboo flute, hand cymbals and two Taiko drums. With three out of four being percussion instruments, you'd better believe that we're getting some rocking tunes with a heavy bassline.
After several teasing minutes when parts of the actors' ornate garments occasionally pierced through the closed curtains, the performance kicked off with a bang as these two young swordsmen in exquisite gold-stitched costumes served up some intense choreographed combat scenes with multiple sets of weaponry.
It was the story of Sugawara-no-Michizane, a famous 9th century politician deified for his scholarship aptitude and revered by students across the country prepping for university entrance exams. The play itself was a dramatization of course, as Michizane and his archenemy Tokihira lacked the deadly swordsmanship skills to try to kill each other in real life.
After Michizane dispatched his archrival we moved onto the second play of the night, a short comedy depicting the jovial Ebisu, a symbol of good fortune in pop culture and particularly revered in these remote fishing communities. The presence of Ebisu isn't only popular in scheduled performances, but also in weddings and other congratulatory ceremonies here in West Japan.
You can always count on two crowd-favorite moments when Ebisu appears in a Kagura play: the catching of a giant sea bream about to be attached onto the fishing line here by his theatrical assistant, and the scattering of fortune candies, two of which landed on my lap which I passed to the grateful Obaasan behind me.
If you're wondering how I got THIS close to the action, I lucked out by arriving at the shrine just after they filled the front rows and started to open up the floor seats at the right edge of the stage. The delicate embroideries and handmade paper masks of the actors were practically withing touching distance from the audience, a level of intimacy that would have been impossible in a theatre setting.
After 45 minutes of performance for the first two plays, the troupe finally brought out the feature presentation of the evening and arguably the most representative play in the entire repertoire of Iwami Kagura. We're getting a visual treat of the swashbuckling, dragon-slaying action thriller known as Orochi.
So the story goes, an elderly couple had sacrificed seven daughters to appease the ravenous serpent over the years, and are now on the verge of offering their eighth and youngest girl in a tearful farewell.
Enter Susanoo, our mythical hero who has come up with the plan to lure the serpent with an indulgence of poisonous wine, delivered here by the father of the helpless girl.
Sure enough the legendary serpent appears in a dense fog that can only be the product of a state-of-the-art mist generator. One look at the evil crimson eyes and you know that this villain is a serious baddass.
Worse still, it turns out to be a ginormous dragon with eight heads, each with its own tendency to dash into the audience. Tonight's performance involved only five heads, each controlled by a different performer, as the shrine's tiny stage simply wouldn't fit more dancing serpents.
The serpents would creep menacingly closer and closer to the audience until they practically end up in the crowd, intimidating the kids and giving the adults a festive good time.
Whoa! Don't just offer up your neck girl as you're not supposed to be the offering!
Here's the green serpent whose wooden tail ended up bruising my thigh. The thick, glossy wrapping forming the serpent's body was actually the famed Sekishu Banshi, an extraordinarily strong handmade paper now designated by UNESCO as Intangible Cultural Heritage.
Apparently the serpents aren't very pleased with being poisoned, and threaten to devour the young maiden until our protagonist jumps into action ...
Here comes Susanoo surrounded by the five serpents, sword in hand like Link from the Legend of Zelda and ready to swashbuckle his way to rescue our lovely maiden.
Slice! Slash! Hack!
Note the severed head of the blue serpent in the hand of Susanoo, which ensures that the rest of the serpents are now really pissed off.
I guess I was one of the honoured guests of the evening as the blue serpent's severed head somehow ended up next to me on the Tatami floor. In the meantime Susanoo would dispatch several other serpents and cast their heads around the room.
At last, the dramatic showdown between Susanoo and the last serpent. By this time the entire shrine was packed to the brim with even more villagers peeking above the shoulders of the standees from the outside, hoping to catch parts of this final scene.
And it was a nice finale with some flashy choreographed moves, but of course the serpent was no match for our chivalrous champion.
What's a good dragon-slaying story without the hero marrying the maiden at the end? On top of bringing home the bride, Susanoo also uncovers from the tail of the serpent a magical sword that would later become one of the Three Imperial Regalia of Japan ... at least that's how the tale was recorded in the 8th Century chronicle of Kojiki.
A big hand of applause for tonight's performers, hailing from the nearby hotspring town of Arifuku. These were not paid professionals but ordinary townsfolk with day jobs, devoting their spare time to pass on their centuries-old traditions to future generations.
It was nearly 21:30 when the show ended and the fans took to the stage for photos with their favorite serpents and performers. For any reader planning on visiting Iwami Ginzan and the San'in Coast, try to stay overnight on a Saturday when the weekly Kagura performances are staged at Yunotsu Hotspring, Arifuku Hotspring and a few venues in Hamada and Masuda. Here in Yunotsu the performance starts at 20:00 every Saturday evening at the Tatsunogozen Jinja, for 600 yen a ticket.
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