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FLASH FORWARD: DEBUT WORKS AND RECENT FILMS BY NOTABLE JAPANESE DIRECTORS

Masayuki Suo takes the audience on a wild ride in Talking the Pictures

FLASH FORWARD
Japan Society online and in-person
333 East 47th St. at First Ave.
December 3-23, free – $10 online for three-day rental, $15 in person December 11 & 17, 7:00
212-715-1258
www.japansociety.org

Japan Society and the ACA Cinema Project (Agency for Cultural Affairs, Government of Japan) follow up their inaugural festival, “21st Century Japan: Films from 2001-2020,” with “Flash Forward: Debut Works and Recent Films by Notable Japanese Directors,” running December 3-23 online and in person.

The three-week series highlights the work of six established Japanese directors, pairing their debut with a more recent film. Available on demand as a three-day rental for ten dollars or fifteen dollars per bundle are Naomi Kawase’s 1997 Cannes Camera d’Or-winning Suzaku and 2018 Vision, Miwa Nishikawa’s 2003 Wild Berries and 2016 The Long Excuse, Shuichi Okita’s 2009 The Chef of South Polar and 2020 Ora, Ora Be Goin’ Alone, Junji Sakamoto’s 1989 Knockout and 2016 The Projects (see review below), and Masayuki Suo’s 1989 Fancy Dance and 2019 Talking the Pictures. Akihiko Shiota’s 1999 Moonlight Whispers was supposed to be teamed up with his 2019 Farewell Song but will not be shown because of music rights issues; it has been replaced by his fourth film, the 2002 drama Harmful Insect.

The “Filmmakers on the Rise” section comprises recent works by six directors who might be part of “Flash Forward” if it were held again in 2040: Masakazu Kaneko 2016 The Albino’s Trees, Yuko Hakota’s 2019 Blue Hour, Omoi Sasaki’s 2017 A Boy Sato, Eisuke Naito’s Forgiven Children, Kyoko Miyake’s 2013 My Atomic Aunt, and Hiroshi Okuyama’s 2019 Jesus. These films are available for free on demand. Also free are two online talks, “Conversations with the Filmmakers,” with Kawase, Nishikawa, Okita, Sakamoto, Shiota, and Suo, and the panel discussion “Debut Works and Beyond,” with Columbia assistant professor Takuya Tsunoda, UCLA assistant professor Junko Yamazaki, and writer, curator, and filmmaker Jasper Sharp, moderated by Yale professor Aaron Gerow.

Two in-person screenings at Japan Society celebrate the late master Sadao Yamanaka, who made more than two dozen films in the 1930s, few of which survive, before dying in Manchuria in 1938 at the age of twenty-eight. On December 11 at 7:00, a new 4K restoration of Yamanaka’s 1935 Tange Sazen and the Pot Worth a Million Ryo will have its North American premiere, followed December 17 at 7:00 by the international premiere of the 4K restoration of Yamanaka’s 1936 Priest of Darkness.

Hinako (Naomi Fujiyama) and Seiji Yamashita’s (Ittoku Kishibe) lives change once again with the return of Shinjo (Takumi Saitoh) in The Projects

THE PROJECTS (DANCHI) (団地) (Junji Sakamoto, 2016)
film.japansociety.org

“Nothing is impossible in a housing project,” several people say in Junji Sakamoto’s delightfully absurdist and downright weird black comedy The Projects, which made its North American debut at Japan Society’s tenth annual Japan Cuts Festival in 2016. Elderly couple Hinako (Naomi Fujiyama) and Seiji Yamashita (Ittoku Kishibe) have moved to an inexpensive suburban Osaka housing project, known as a danchi, after closing their popular herbal remedies shop following the tragic death of their son, Naoya. The couple lives quietly, unable to process their grief or move forward, but they’re back in business when one of their strangest customers, the well-dressed, oddly speaking Shinjo (Takumi Saitoh), tracks them down and essentially demands, in his calm, direct manner, that they begin making his special remedy again. Meanwhile, Seiji, who would rather be left alone, is dragged into the race for head of the tenant association, running against Gyotoku (Renji Ishibashi), who is having an affair with a younger resident and is married to Kimiko (Michiyo Okusu), who is obsessed with properly separating the danchi’s garbage, and young upstart Yoshizumi (Takayuki Takuma), who is not afraid to discipline his son, Kitaro (Hiroaki Ogasawara), in full view of his neighbors. After Seiji loses, he decides to hide from everyone, retreating under the floorboards whenever someone stops by, which leads a gossiping group of ladies (Hikaru Horiguchi, Yukari Taki, Mayu Harada, Mari Hamada, and Miyako Takeuchi) to believe that Hinako has actually killed her husband and chopped up the body. As the media and police get involved, things get crazier and crazier as the totally bizarre conclusion approaches.

Fujiyama and Kishibe are absolutely charming as the Yamashitas, moving and talking with a sweetly warm, slow demeanor, asking little from a life that has let them down. Sakamoto wrote The Projects specifically for comedian and stage actress Fujiyama; the two last worked together on the award-winning 2000 film Face, Fujiyama’s first film, and the pairing is another marvel. Fujiyama is wonderful in the role, imbuing Hinako with a wry, very funny sense of humor that is splendidly complemented by Kishibe’s more serious Seiji. Lovingly shot by Ryo Ohtsuka and featuring a playful score by Gorô Yasukawa, The Projects is pure fun all the way through, with many laugh-out-loud moments even as it deals with some heavy subjects, right up to its out-of-this-world finale. Don’t let the title fool you; “projects” in Japan were much-desired apartment complexes originally built in the 1950s to supply suburban public housing for the growing post-WWII Japanese population. Although they are not as popular today, they are not the kind of projects associated with drugs and crime in America. The Projects is paired with Sakamoto’s 1989 debut, Knockout (Dotsuitarunen), in “Flash Forward: Debut Works and Recent Films by Notable Japanese Directors.”

SHEEP #1

Sachiyo Takahashi’s Sheep #1 is at Japan Society November 4-7 (photo © Skye Morse-Hodgson)

SHEEP #1
Japan Society
333 East 47th St. at First Ave.
November 4-7, $23
212-715-1258
www.japansociety.org

Shortly after crash landing in the Sahara Desert, the isolated pilot narrator of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s Le Petit Prince recalls, “You can imagine my surprise when I was awakened at daybreak by a funny little voice saying, ‘Please . . . Draw me a sheep . . .’” After several failures, the pilot draws a picture of a crate, explaining that the sheep is inside. The boy, aka the little prince, is very happy, noting, “Where I live, everything is very small.”

Japan-born, Brooklyn-based visual artist Sachiyo Takahashi uses that section of Saint-Exupéry’s classic book, which also explores differences between grown-ups and children, in Sheep #1, which runs November 4–7 at Japan Society. Sachiyo tells the story using small puppets from Nekaa Lab, which she founded in 2006, projected onto a screen to make them look life-size (or bigger). The cast includes Sheep, who claims not to act but to play, and Rabbit, who says Nekaa Lab is “an eternal playground for the curious mind.” Among the other lab members (stuffed toys and figurines) are Cat and Polar Bear.

Sheep #1 is an example of Sachiyo’s Microscopic Live Cinema-Theatre, which tells stories using objects, live music, and camera projections and is able to, in Cat’s words, “even magnify the hidden emotions.” The wordless show, which made its US debut at the Tank in 2018, will be performed and projected live by Sachiyo, with pianist Emile Blondel playing original music with excerpts from Franz Schubert on Friday and Saturday and bassist Kato Hideki playing an original score on Thursday and Sunday, accompanying Sachiyo’s electroacoustic soundtrack.

The opening-night show will be followed by a reception with the artists. Sachiyo, who has been awarded several grants from the Jim Henson Foundation, has previously staged such works as Everything Starts from a Dot and Not Outside, which also starred Sheep, in addition to performing as Miya Okamoto in such Shinnai-bushi sung-storytelling presentations as Shinnai Meets Puppetry: One Night in Winter and the upcoming The Emotions.

TWI-NY TALK: AYA OGAWA AND THE NOSEBLEED

Aya Ogawa portrays their son and father in new play at Japan Society (photo by Maria Baranova)

THE NOSEBLEED
Japan Society
333 East 47th St. at First Ave.
October 1-3 & 7-10, $30
212-715-1258
www.japansociety.org
ayaogawa.com

“The Nosebleed chronicles my journey of confronting what I think is one of the biggest failures of my life, which is that when my father died almost fifteen years ago, I failed to do anything to honor him or his life because of the nature of our relationship,” Japanese American playwright-director Aya Ogawa says in a promotional video for their latest work, the final version of The Nosebleed, running October 1-3 and 7-10 at Japan Society. The absurdist, comic show, previously known as Failure Sandwich and in which four actors play Ogawa while Ogawa portrays their own son and father, serves as a healing ritual for Ogawa and the audience, especially as the coronavirus crisis continues and nearly everyone has experienced some kind of loss.

Over the summer, the Tokyo-born, Brooklyn-based Ogawa, a 2021 Barbara Whitman Award finalist, mounted an online version of Ludic Proxy, an interactive virtual play that takes place in the past (Pripyat, post-Chernobyl), the present (Fukushima, post-disaster), and the future (New York, underground), inspired by the death of their mother. Ogawa previously adapted the text for Alec Duffy’s Our Planet, an immersive production that led a small audience through the historic Japan Society building; they have also directed Haruna Lee’s Obie-winning Suicide Forest at the Bushwick Starr and A.R.T./New York Theatres (where its run was cut short by the March 2020 lockdown) and have written and directed Oph3lia at HERE, Journey to the Ocean at the Rubin Museum, Artifact at the Performance MIX Festival, and A Girl of 16 at Clemente Soto Velez’s Latea Theater.

Copresented with the Chocolate Factory, The Nosebleed is performed by Ogawa, Lee, Drae Campbell, Peter Lettre, Aya Saori Tsukada, and Kaili Turner. I have seen Ogawa at numerous events at Japan Society, where they used to work in the Performing Arts department, but now they are returning as the center of attention. “To be able to come back there, as an artist, and to be so welcomed by former colleagues, is a huge blessing,” they explained. Opening night will be followed by a reception with the artists.

Taking a break from rehearsals, Ogawa discussed motherhood, family relationships, the immigrant experience, theater during the pandemic, and more with twi-ny.

twi-ny: The Nosebleed deals with your complex relationship with your father; Ludic Proxy was partly inspired by the loss of your mother. In researching and writing each work, did your thoughts about your parents, and your relationship with them, change?

aya ogawa: Ludic Proxy was an exploration of my own grieving process — an exercise in imagining how to find the strength to continue living after the death of my mother — had I not had children of my own. It was less about my actual relationship with her, so I would say in that case, my relationship with her did not change.

The Nosebleed, however, is explicitly about my father and my relationship with him — my perceptions and memories of him (which are subjective and flawed). The process of writing the play forced me to recall and examine a lot of things I had not thought of for many years, and this revisiting and especially the embodying of his character has definitely changed my feelings toward him.

twi-ny: How has The Nosebleed developed from earlier iterations at BAX and the Public?

ao: The script is not that different from when it was presented at the Public. (I wrote in a new character after my showing at BAX). However, the staging for each presentation has been unique and tailored to each space. I’ve been blessed to retain most of the original cast. I’ve had to replace one actor (who is now in grad school abroad), and I feel blessed again to have found someone who is not only a stellar performer but a collaborator who is able to bring her whole self and lived experience into the rehearsal room.

twi-ny: What was the rehearsal room like?

ao: We have very strict COVID safety protocols in place, which I discussed with the company before we began this process. I’d heard nightmares about other shows shutting down or having to replace actors, etc. I can’t afford to replace actors, or stop a rehearsal process and pick it up again at another time, so I had to plan for the most conservative measures to keep us all safe. Everyone on my team is fully vaccinated, rehearse masked, take PCR tests every week, and have rapid home tests available if anyone is feeling under the weather.

Despite all of these measures, or perhaps because of the assurance and safety they provided, the process has been joyful and very productive. The piece was originally conceived as an immersive performance, but we have decided to prioritize safety and put the audience in the house.

twi-ny: In the show, you play your son and your father, linking three generations. What is that experience like every night onstage?

ao: This is the first time I have ever appeared in my own play. It was never something I craved doing; in fact, the thought is kind of embarrassing. I decided to appear in the play as my father because the piece demanded it. The crux of this piece, and for it to work as it was intended — as something transformative and healing — I had no choice but to take responsibility for it and play the part. The experience of playing my son and my father is cathartic and exhausting.

One thing that really came to the forefront when creating an autobiographical play was just how violent the act of embodying a character can be. It takes a great deal of responsibility and trust to hand over the portrayal of my life to other people, and trust is needed in both directions.

Aya Ogawa wrote, directed, and stars in The Nosebleed (known as Failure Sandwich in an earlier iteration above) (photo © Ryutaro Mishima)

twi-ny: For your work in progress Meat Suit, you describe motherhood as a “shit show.” You have two children; what was the pandemic lockdown like for you and your family?

ao: At first, it was kind of wonderful. Suddenly we had so much time together, so much unstructured time. There was no panic to make lunches or rush to get them to school on time, etc. We spent time gardening, cleaning the house, cooking. But then, of course, we figured out how to function in the lockdown. School happened on Zoom, as did a lot of my work. I was grateful to have work, and it was a fruitful time, in many ways, to be forced to develop work with great limitations, but it was also exhausting. Pandemic parenting continues right now — and remains pretty trying.

twi-ny: Do you still have family in Tokyo? If so, how often do you generally go back, and have you been able to do so recently?

ao: I am the only person in my immediate blood family living in the U.S. All of my relatives and family are in Japan. Since having kids, I have made it a point to visit every summer. We have not been able to visit since 2019 and it’s really painful.

twi-ny: This past March, you reimagined Ludic Proxy as an interactive online production. What are your thoughts about streaming theater? Do you see it as just a stopgap, or do you anticipate creating more online work in the future?

ao: The second act of Ludic Proxy was conceived with video game mechanics embedded into the script, so it was clear to me that it could very naturally translate to the screen as long as we could retain the audience interactivity. I actually don’t think the pandemic is going to ever “go away,” so it is important for theater-makers to think about how our medium is being transformed. As soon as The Nosebleed closes, I’m going into a video shoot for a puppet play that was originally conceived as a live, in-person puppet show but is now a performance film made for camera.

twi-ny: One of your themes throughout your career has been immigration and cultural identity. How has that changed for Japanese Americans since your first works, going back twenty years?

ao: The experience of the immigrant is not a static, monolithic story. It is varied and complex and ever-changing — so I can only speak for myself, not the larger Japanese-American population. I happen to be positioned in a particular place where I feel like I have access to multiple lenses — I am an immigrant myself but pass as a child of an immigrant. I have Japanese-Taiwanese-American children who I’ve made sure have access to their Japanese culture, but I’m also torn between wanting them to have their own experiences and interactions with the culture and sharing my experience of leaving Japan, a deeply sexist culture. Japan can be rich and beautiful. It can also be toxic and suffocating. So can America.

TRAGEDIES OF YOUTH — NOBUHIKO OBAYASHI’S WAR TRILOGY

Nobuhiko Obayashi’s beautifully told tale, Seven Weeks, is part of Japan Society online tribute

TRAGEDIES OF YOUTH — NOBUHIKO OBAYASHI’S WAR TRILOGY: SEVEN WEEKS (NO NO NANANANOKA) (Nobuhiko Obayashi, 2014)
Japan Society virtual cinema
Available on demand through August 6, seven-day rental $10 per film, $24 for all three
japansociety.org

In December 2015, Japan Society presented the two-weekend, ten-film series “Nobuhiko Obayashi: A Retrospective,” which revealed that the Japanese auteur was so much more than just the director of the 1977 cult classic House. In commemoration of the recent death of the iconoclastic, eclectic writer-director, who passed away in April 2020 from lung cancer at the age of eighty-two, Japan Society is hosting a special monthlong online screening of his War Trilogy, consisting of 2012’s Casting Blossoms to the Sky, set in the aftermath of the devastating 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, 2017’s Hanagatami, an adaptation of Kazuo Dan’s 1937 novella about a group of students falling in and out of love in prewar Japan, and the 2014 epic family drama Seven Weeks.

A tribute to Obayashi’s late friend and colleague Hyoji Suzuki, who started an independent film workshop in Ashibetsu in 1993 and died of pancreatic cancer four years later at the age of thirty-six, Seven Weeks was shot in and around that Hokkaido village over the course of five weeks. Ninety-two-year-old patriarch Mitsuo Suzuki (Toru Shinagawa), a local retired doctor who now runs the Starry Cultural Center gift shop (a nod to Suzuki’s Hoshi no Furusato Ashibetsu Eiga Gakko, or Starry Beautiful Home Ashibetsu Film School), is on his deathbed, and various relatives are arriving to say goodbye and participate in the nanana no ka Buddhist ritual, in which they will hold memorials once a week for seven weeks following his death. The mourners include Mitsuo’s sister, Eiko (Tokie Hidari), grandchildren Fuyuki (Takehiro Murata), Haruhiko (Yutaka Matsuhige), Akito (Shunsuke Kubozuka), and Kanna (Saki Terashima), and great-granddaughter Kasane (Hirona Yamazaki), in addition to his nurse, Nobuko Shimizu (Takako Tokiwa). During the seven weeks, family members relive the past, uncovering surprising secrets about the young Mitsuo (Shusaku Uchida), his harmonica-playing friend Ono (Takao Ito), and the woman they both admire, Ayano (Yumi Adachi), as Obayashi weaves together past and present through flashbacks, the appearance of dead characters, and painting and poetry (several of the characters share a love of the poems of Nakahara Chuya).

But the film, shot in lush, fairy-tale-like colors by cinematographer Hisaki Mikimoto and featuring a sweeping score by Kôsuke Yamashita and a kind of Greek chorus embodied by the unusual Japanese band the Pascals, is not merely about the travails of one extended family; it is also very much about the rebuilding of Japanese society in the wake of WWII, the earthquake and tsunami of March 11, 2011, and the ensuing Fukushima nuclear disaster. In fact, all of the clocks and watches in Seven Weeks are perpetually stopped at 2:45 pm, the exact time the horrific 3/11 events began. Obayashi also investigates the Soviet invasion of Sakhalin Island in August 1945 and the abuse of Korean migrant workers in Japanese mines as he explores the complex issue of the meaning of home. Seven Weeks is a beautifully told tale of memory and loss, of art and war, a summing up not only of Obayashi’s career but of twentieth-century Japan, with plenty of the director’s unique trademark style. “How do I paint the world?” Mitsuo asks at one point, something Obayashi has achieved in this deeply involving and wonderfully mysterious film. Fortunately for all of us, Obayashi was not quite done painting the world, continuing a legacy that is at last being celebrated here in the West.

TRAGEDIES OF YOUTH — NOBUHIKO OBAYASHI’S WAR TRILOGY: CASTING BLOSSOMS TO THE SKY (KONO SORA NO HANA: NAGAOKA HANABI MONOGATARI) (Nobuhiko Obayashi, 2014)
japansociety.org

“If people made pretty fireworks instead of bombs, there wouldn’t have been any wars,” says journalist Reiko Endō (Yasuko Matsuyuki), quoting wandering artist Kiyoshi Yamashita at the start of Nobuhiko Ōbayashi’s Casting Blossoms to the Sky. The first of the eclectic Japanese auteur’s War Trilogy, the film, based on actual experiences, is essentially an audiovisual essay, “Reiko Endō’s Wonderland: A Journey of Emotions to Nagaoka,” detailing Endō’s trip to Nagaoka in Niigata Prefecture, as the local citizenry share true tales of WWII and the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami. (Nagaoka took in more than a thousand evacuees from Fukushima.) Ōbayashi goes back and forth between the past and the present, from the summer in 1945 when Nagaoka was bombed by the United States to the latest edition of the city’s annual fireworks display, which honor the victims of Pearl Harbor, the bombings of Nagaoka, Hiroshima, and Nagasaki, and the 2011 disaster.

With the day of the fireworks show approaching, Endō rides with wise cabdriver Akiyoshi Muraoka (Takashi Sasano), as she, and we, discover the city’s history of war and remembrance. Endō meets with her ex-boyfriend, Kenichi Katayama (Masahiro Takashima), who is in charge of the school play at Chuetsu High and chooses There’s Still Time Until a War by a mysterious girl named Jana Motoki (Minami Inomata) who rides a unicycle through the halls and down the streets of the neighborhood. Endō learns from the inhabitants themselves, including military history researcher Takashi Mishima (Akiyoshi Muraoka) and triathlete and potato farmer Goro Matsushita (Toshio Kakei), who built a memorial using a fragment from one of the incendiary bombs dropped on Nagaoka; war veteran and local fireworks legend Seijiro Nose (Akira Emoto); reporter Wakako Inoue (Natsuka Harada), who walks Endō through important parts of the city; Yoshie Yamafuji, who lost much of her family in the bombings; artist Yasunari Honmura, who uses his paintings as reminders of the horrors of war; and numerous other survivors and relatives of the dead.

Journalist Reiko Endō (Yasuko Matsuyuki) goes on quite a ride with cabdriver Akiyoshi Muraoka (Takashi Sasano) in Nobuhiko Ōbayashi’s Casting Blossoms to the Sky

Casting Blossoms to the Sky is made in Obayashi’s unique style, with visually stunning backdrops (real and green-screened), bright, brash color schemes, professional and nonprofessional actors, and computer-generated imagery that can feel rather goofy. The film was imaginatively shot by Yûdai Katô and Hisaki Sanbongi, with lovely, often garishly beautiful production design by Kôichi Takeuchi and playful editing by Obayashi and Hisaki Sanbongi, using cute cinematic techniques. The characters sometimes turn and speak directly into the camera, further establishing the film as a cautionary tale.

“I don’t know anything about war and it’s never crossed my mind,” a young student named Ryo says to Katayama, who replies, “It’s the citizens’ duty to tell the story. There are adults who think war is necessary but not the children. That’s why it’s up to the children to make peace.”

In one of the most moving scenes, a black-and-white flashback to 2009 during a fierce storm, Endō’s mother (Shiho Fujimura) says to her, “Life is connected,” a statement that is at the heart of Obayashi’s message. But no matter how didactic some of the dialogue is and how silly the visuals can get, accompanied by Joe Hisaishi’s emotional score, Casting Blossoms to the Sky has an innate charm that is so endearing you will forgive its flaws. At one point Katayama explains, “The fireworks are a prayer.” So is Casting Blossoms to the Sky, which, like fireworks, is quite a sight to behold.

THE DARK MASTER

THE DARK MASTER
Japan Society
333 East 47th St.
June 23-28, $45
212-715-1258
www.japansociety.org

Kuro Tanino’s The Dark Master was originally scheduled to be a fully staged production at Japan Society in January 2021 as part of a four-city US tour. However, because of the pandemic lockdown, Japan Society artistic director Yoko Shioya suggested that Tanino reimagine the piece for virtual reality. The result is a thoroughly satisfying and uniquely tasty experience, a delectable treat for the senses.

Continuing through June 28, The Dark Master is presented to ten audience members at a time, sitting in individual mirrored cubicles on Japan Society’s stage. Wearing headphones and VR headsets (and facemasks), you are taken into a tiny, claustrophobic restaurant where you are served food by a grouchy owner-chef (Kiyobumi Kaneko). He decides that you are to become the next cook, and your training begins as hungry customers come in and sit at the counter, excited for the carefully prepared fare.

Inspired by first-person video games and an indie manga written by Marei Karibu and illustrated by Haruki Izumi, The Dark Master immerses you in a mysterious world that can be as funny as it is creepy. Kaneko is a hoot as a surly smoker who seems relatively disinterested in what he’s doing yet creates miraculous dishes that not only look good but smell great — be prepared for a multisensory adventure. The virtual reality extends about 180 degrees, so be sure to turn to your right and left and up and down to take it all in; you are also given hands that hold a menu, pour a drink, and bring the victuals to your mouth, which could produce a sort of personal AMSR encounter A brief video at the end takes you behind the scenes of how some of it was done.

A sculptor, painter, and former psychiatrist, Tanino (Frustrating Picture Book for Adults, Fortification of Smiles) literally and figuratively gets into your head for forty-five minutes as performers from his experimental theater company, Niwa Gekidan Penino (NGP), including Kaneko, F. O. Pereira Koichiro, and Bobmi Hidaka, traipse through the restaurant, with narration by Saika Ouchi. The dialogue has been dubbed into English by the original Japanese cast; the fab set is by Takuya Kamiike, with moody lighting by Masayuki Abe, crackling sound by Koji Sato and Shintaro Mastunomiya, and videography and editing by Nobuhiro Matsuzawa. In 2014, NGP made its American debut at Japan Society with The Room Nobody Knows, which featured a spectacular two-level set that represented the unconscious and subconscious minds. With this VR iteration of The Dark Master, Tanino serves up a wonderful physical and psychological meal, one that can be enjoyed together by strangers, just like watching theater or eating in a restaurant, two of life’s necessities (and genuine pleasures) that were unavailable for so much of the last sixteen months.

TICKET ALERT: THE DARK MASTER

Japan Society
333 East 47th St.
June 23-27, $45
212-715-1258
www.japansociety.org

As the lockdown ends and venues start reopening, theaters are dealing with limited admissions, socially distanced seating, and protocols for the health and safety of the cast and crew. Several companies have come up with unique presentations that feature no performers and a sparse audience. In Simon Stephens’s Blindness, people sit in pods of two inside the Daryl Roth Theatre and listen to the narrative unfold through binaural headphones. In Social! at the Park Avenue Armory, fewer than a hundred people were marched into the Wade Thompson Drill Hall and danced in their own colored circle for nearly an hour as a DJ in the center spun tunes and the disembodied voice of David Byrne offered movement suggestions. For the Byzantine Choral Project’s Icons/Idols: In the Purple Room, two people at a time follow the narrative over their phone as they wander through creepy downstairs rooms at the New Ohio Theatre. And for En Garde Arts’ A Dozen Dreams, pairs make their way across twelve separate installations at the Winter Garden at Brookfield Place, each one containing a dream from a woman playwright.

Japan Society is entering the actorless arena with the latest iteration of writer-director Kuro Tanino’s The Dark Master, running for only sixteen performances from June 23 to 27, with a maximum of ten people at each show. A sculptor, painter, and former psychiatrist, Tanino (Frustrating Picture Book for Adults, Fortification of Smiles) created the immersive forty-five-minute piece for his experimental theater company, Niwa Gekidan Penino, but they will not be at the East Forty-Seventh St. institution; instead, the story, about the relationship between a Japanese diner and the owner-chef of a restaurant and inspired by an indie manga and first-person video games, takes place through Virtual Reality headsets and headphones, along with live onstage cooking to add smell and taste to hearing and seeing. The work was first presented in 2003 with a full cast and audience and has now been reimagined for the pandemic.

“Niwa Gekidan Penino generated significant buzz in their 2014 U.S. debut at Japan Society with The Room Nobody Knows,” artistic director Yoko Shioya said in a statement. “With this new presentation, I hope to further their status and reputation in this country. We are extremely happy to welcome audiences back into our building for Kuro’s innovative and immersive in-person VR performance. From its intimate scale to the sensorial nature of the piece — along with its haunting and thrilling plot — this one-of-a-kind theater event seems tailor made for our return to live, onsite theater.” With only 160 total tickets available, you better act fast if you want to experience what should be a wild and special show.

SHOMYO: BUDDHIST RITUAL CHANT MOONLIGHT MANTRA

Who: Shomyo no Kai — Voices of a Thousand Years
What: An evening of shomyo Buddhist ritual chant
Where: Japan Society and University of Chicago
When: Tuesday, March 30, $12-$15, 8:00 (available through April 30)
Why: Japan Society and the University of Chicago have teamed up to present a concert by the vocal group Shomyo no Kai — Voices of a Thousand Years, which specializes in rarely heard early chanting rituals. On March 30 at 8:00, the company’s performance of a new work, Moonlight Mantra (Tsuki no Kogon), by female composer Yu Kuwabara, will premiere, available on demand through April 30. Part of Carnegie Hall’s “Voices of Hope” festival, the concert was held in the eight-hundred-year-old An’yo-in Temple in Tokyo, with the group, founded in 1997 by Rev. Yusho Kojima and Rev. Kojun Arai of the Shingon sect and Rev. Koshin Ebihara and Rev. Jiko Kyoto of the Tendai sect, wearing traditional monastic robes and moving slowly throughout the sacred space. (In March 2014, Shomyo no Ka made its North American debut at St. Bartholomew’s Church as part of a tour organized by Japan Society.) The online premiere will be followed by a live Q&A. In addition, there will be a “Shomyo for Everyday Wellness” online workshop on April 8 ($5, 8:30), in which participants can practice shomyo with the monks. “Voices of Hope” continues through April with such other events as “Ayodele Casel: Chasing Magic,” “Ephrat Asherie Dance: Odeon,” “Different Strokes / Different Folks: Queer Artists of Color Paint the 21st Century,” “Voices of Hope: True Stories of Resilience, Recovery, and Renewal,” and “American Voices: Selected Piano Works by Black and Native American Composers.”