Tanabata - An Excursus Through Arts and Popular Culture (Part 2)
10 minutes read
This is the second part of a diptych dedicated to the Tanabata festivities. If you have not read the previous part yet, we highly suggest doing so, as many important elements for the comprehension of the following article have been presented there.
Last time we interrupted our excursus in the middle of the Edo period, observing through prints how young kids and courtesans used to celebrate Tanabata. Today we are completing our course with some considerations on how this festivity proved to be an important event for Kabuki; how it made the transition into Meiji period (1868–1912) and what is its modern conception. We will punctuate this narrative with a focus on how artisans adopted the Tanabata imagery for their crafts, as well as how Japanese popular culture elaborated on this event.
Tanabata, an occasion for emergent Kabuki actors to steal the show
Seasonality had an important role in structuring the rhythm of what have been defined as ‘traditional arts’, like Tea Ceremony and Nō theatre. Similarly, Kabuki theatre, which was probably one of the most popular forms of entertainment during the Edo period, was also paced by seasonal festivities. The theatre season usually began on the 11th month of the lunar calendar with the presentation of new recruits joining the troupes. Plays featuring the whole companies would be held up to summer, when theatres closed in between the sixth and the seventh month. As famous leading actors enjoyed their well-deserved breaks, secondary performers did not take long to capitalize on this occasion to stage plays where they could assume more important roles. Thus, Tanabata could be described as the perfect occasion for people to enjoy the work of those emergent actors who strived to deliver their best performances.
Torii Kiyonobu I (1664–1729), Actor Sawamura Kodenji as a Woman at the Time of the Tanabata Festival, 1698.
©The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Okumura Toshinobu (active ca. 1717–1750), Actor Sanogawa Ichimatsu as a Courtesan during the Tanabata Festival, 1730. ©The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Something more than just everyday life
Ukiyo-e artists were not solely bound to represent scenes of (extra)ordinary life, but also started developing more imaginative and creative visions. Much has been said on this topic, so I will not bore you with elaborated considerations on this matter. Nonetheless, allow me to present a piece that depicts an artistic take on Tanabata, representing here an imagined crossing of the Milky Way river. In this piece two different aspects of the festivity are merged: three courtesans are framed in the act of crossing the river, just as in the legend of the two lovers, but what also attracts our attention is their vessel. One of the courtesans is steering a boat made of bamboos trunks, while the other two are writing poems to adorn it. Quite an innovative take on Tanabata, isn’t it?
Okumura Masanobu (1686–1764), The Crossing of the Tanabata Boat (Tanabata no towataru fune), 1715.
©Art Institute Chicago.
Manly crafts with a soft spot for romance
Pardon my provocative title, as it was meant to serve as a mere transition from courtesan-depicting prints into the world of craftsmanship intended for men. When Tanabata was instituted as a national holiday by the Tokugawa shogunate, all social classes were compelled to celebrate it. Early autumn soon became an occasion for social gatherings, either by spending the night in the red-light quarters or by holding banquets. It goes without saying that wealthy people paid particular attention to how they dressed, especially during the Edo period. The inrō (men’s portable case) presented below was likely crafted to be worn during Tanabata festivities. The silk winder in the front and the thread in the rear of the case are clear reminders of the weaver girl Orihime.
Nomura Kyūkoku (active first half of the 19th century), Inrō with Tanabata Story of the Weaver and the Herdboy.
Tanabata Makie Inrō
(七夕蒔絵印籠)
©The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Three cases; lacquered wood with gold hiramaki-e and ivory inlay on mother-of-pearl ground;
Netsuke: carved ivory; flowers and grasses with silver butterflies;
Ojime: silver and gold quail in autumn grasses
Samurai and their swordsmiths might also have had a soft spot for the tragic romance of the Tanabata lovers. After all, similar tragedies were quite popular during the Edo period, especially within performing arts representing impossible love stories, which quite often ended on a dramatic note. The puppet play ‘Daikyōji Mukashi Goyomi’ (1715) by Chikamatsu Monzaemon immediately comes to mind, mainly thanks to the stunning movie ‘The Crucified Lovers’ (1954) by Mizoguchi Kenji. It is not unlikely that swordsmiths used the Tanabata story and the Star Festival in their crafts inspired by some of these plays, as can be seen below.
Oishi Akichika (active mid 19th century), Kashira (sword pommel) the yearly meeting of the celestial lovers the Weaving Maiden and the Shepard.
©The Walters Art Museum
Oishi Akichika (active mid 19th century), Fuchi (sword hilt collar), Three magpies are shown on a bridge over a stream.
©The Walters Art Museum
From Meiji to the present, adapting tradition to changing times
The Meiji period (1868–1912) came with its load of turmoil. The Tokugawa governors could not keep up with both internal pressure on their feudal society and external pressure to open the country. After a period of troubles, the rebellious clans caused an upheaval on the shogunate, restoring the emperor as a warrant of the constitution of a country who looked eagerly to the West. Impressed by the technological superiority of European and American states, but also fearing for its safety, the newly instituted central government adopted many western habits. Meanwhile, that same central government put an effort in deconstructing what was perceived as fogey traditions in order to create an ideal of modern and strong Japan. Many cultural and religious practices of the previous times did not make the cut, especially those related to Buddhist traditions, which compelled rulers’ attention for a time. Even Tanabata, despite being one of the most popular celebrations in Japan, did not cross Meiji unscathed. As the cultural revolution took place, Japan parted ways with its old lunar calendar and adopted the Gregorian division of the year. While still counting years based on emperors’ reigns, governers divided them into 12 months, with the beginning of the year canonically placed at January 1st.
Festival of the Weaver (Tanabata – Matsuri), Tokyo, c.a. 1915-1920. ©Library of Congress
Thus, Tanabata, the 7th night of the 7th month, could not be held in autumn anymore, and was forcefully moved to July, the 7th month of the newly adopted calendar. (It could be argued that Tanabata might have been kept in September, as semantically this month reminds of the 7th month; unfortunately, I lack sources regarding this observation). It was during this period that the modern Tanabata celebrations were defined, and have been transmitted to this day with little to no change. Poems gave way to straightforward wishes inscribed on papers to be attached on bamboo trunks, while decorations progressively integrated star themed patterns, becoming more elaborated crafts.
Tanabata decorations. ©Luigi Zeni
Tanabata in popular culture
If you have read other articles from this blog series, you might have noticed how Japanese artists have been particularly creative when drawing inspiration from their own traditions and cultural backgrounds. In this regard, Tanabata has become a kind of narrative trope, especially within popular industries such as manga, animation and video games. There is a plethora of manga and anime romances that have at least one episode dedicated to this summer festivity. However, for today’s article I decided to present you some more elaborated takes on Tanabata. As it is becoming somewhat of a tradition, the first element comes from the Pokémon series in the form of the mythical ‘wish’ monster known as Jirachi. The design of this creature unites both papers sheets and star features from the Tanabata imagery to suggest the ability of this Pokémon to grant wishes.
Can you spot all the details relating this Pokémon to the legend of the weaver girl and the oxherd?
Official art by Ken Sugimori of #385 Jirachi, released in Pokémon Ruby and Sapphire.
©The Pokémon Company ©Game Freak ©Ken Sugimori
The second peculiar mention of the Star Festival comes from the SF light novel series ‘The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya’, some of which has also been made into an animated adaptation. Since we dwell here in the realm of the Spoiler, I will just mention that Tanabata and its wish-granting feature come to play an important role in the constitution of the first part of the story. I cannot but recommend you give it a try to see for yourself how the Tanabata trope was twisted in this bizarre novel and animated series.
The Harui Suzumiya novel series: first volume ‘The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya’.
© Nagaru Tanigawa ©Noizi Ito ©Kadokawa Shoten
©Yen Press
The Harui Suzumiya animated series: first serie ‘The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya’.
©Nagaru Tanigawa ©Kyoto Animation ©Tatsuya Ishihara ©Funimation
A thousands-years old festivity still actual
Nowadays, Tanabata has become a beloved summer festivity, celebrated every year by thousands of gatherings throughout Japan. People take advantage of this occasion to wear their best yukata (light kimono) and have a walk to the closest festival. Children are tempted by the many food and toy stalls, while their parents and grandparents wish for their wellbeing. It is popular among couples to have a tradition-flavoured date visiting shrines and temples to hang their wishes. You might also try to express your feelings by writing them down on a paper and hanging them on a bamboo tree, whether you would like to succeed at your exams, have good luck in love-related matters or simply wish someone well.
Dances performed during the celebrations of Tanabata at Dazaifu Tenmangu shrine, Fukuoka prefecture. ©Luigi Zeni
Our excursus through Tanabata has now come to an end. I hope you enjoyed reading this slightly different style of blog article. I, for once, wish the best to all of you, our dear readers, as well as to all our team members. I also take this moment to inscribe on a little paper my wishes for a successful year for this project, may the celestial lovers hear our prayers!
Written by Marty Borsotti