Bekkanko is an outcast demon - outcast because he is ridiculous - made by the god of the mountains to sweep the flower petals from the graves in the cemetery. In a nearby village lives the blind girl Yuki, whose mother has died and whose father hunts all day, leaving her to suffer the cruel jokes of the neighbourhood children. Yuki meets Bekkanko when she visits her mother's grave and thus starts a tragic but cathartic bonding.
Novák's staging takes much from the traditions of Japanese theatre, but at the same time it uses Brechtian techniques to bring the story closer to the European audience. "Clownish" narration, masks, song and mime make the piece accessible to even the youngest audiences. The set is minimal, as are the costumes and the colours: jet black, blood red and snow white.
The play sends the message that prejudice caused by fear can be overcome by humour, and that outcasts can find the cure for their loneliness in a "kindred spirit." But, at the end of the play, Yuki's father separates her from Bekkanko, and Bekkanko dies. Yuki regains her sight and witnesses Bekkanko's death. She then puts on the demon's clothes and is transformed into Bekkanko-Yuki.
At the end of the performance, the children are reluctant to leave the theatre. They sing, dance and mimic the movements they have seen on stage. They ask questions, about love, death and spirits, and the older members of the audience search carefully for answers.
Asaya Fujita
Novák decided to put on the production after seeing Fujita's rendering at a festival in Montreal.
I asked Fujita - whom Novák invited to see the production - about the author of the play. Akira Saneto is a close friend of Fuijta, who said it was one of the writer's most successful stories. Fujita added that he wanted to see as many different productions of Bekkanko as possible. His favourite thus far has been one in Dresden, where Bekkanko's death becomes a wedding in the sky as he and Yuki cover each other with gold paint, becoming one.
Fujita said he enjoyed Novák's use of different means of theatre - singing, speaking, movement and gesture - as an acknowledgement of a centuries old Asian tradition in the Kolibri production.
