Japan's traditional Kabuki theater continues its centuries-old practice of name succession, with the eighth Kikugoro formally inheriting a prestigious stage name from his 83-year-old father, the seventh Kikugoro. This ritual, known as “shumei,” explicitly binds generations to a shared cultural inheritance, as the younger Kikugoro, Kazuyasu Terajima, stated that taking on the name is about “taking on the spirit and responsibility that’s created and getting passed down over generations by those who came before us.” He further articulated the role of the Kabuki actor as one to “carry on and develop in the present what we have inherited from our predecessors and make sure it gets passed on to those who come after us.”
Naming ceremonies mark the formal adoption or transfer of a new stage name, serving as a public milestone in a performer’s career. These names carry substantial prestige and are closely linked to family or school lineage, influencing expectations around repertoire, performance style, and technique associated with the name. The name-succession ritual for the father and son began last year in various performances throughout Japan and continues through this year.
Another famous family name in Kabuki, Danjuro, saw its 13th Danjuro name succession in 2022, now in its fourth year.
Unbroken Lineage and Native Identity
Kazuyasu Terajima, the 48-year-old new Kikugoro, described his role as one he was born into, like his predecessors, having trained from childhood. He expressed no qualms or hesitation about being destined from birth to be Kikugoro, stating, “I totally adored and admired my predecessors.” Speaking at the Foreign Correspondents’ Club in Tokyo last month, Terajima added, “First of all, I am filled with gratitude to our predecessors who created great works that continue to be loved by generations that came after. So I am grateful to be born into the family of such ancestors.”
Terajima was sitting next to his 12-year-old son, Kazufumi, who in turn will take on the name Kikunosuke, the name for the younger actor in that family, handed down over generations like the Kikugoro name. Kikunosuke stated he loves being a Kabuki actor, despite the hard work involved, which includes running every morning, watching his diet, and going to bed early. He noted the mental and physical demands, saying, “It’s not only hard physically. It’s also pretty hard mentally, and I sometime took it out on my parents.”
Kabuki, dating to the 1600s, remains very much alive in modern-day Japan, showcasing gut-wrenching stories about brave samurai and beautiful maidens. The hit film “Kokuho,” nominated for this year’s Oscars in makeup and hairstyling, serves as proof of Kabuki’s continuing popularity, becoming the biggest grossing live-action movie for the home market in Japanese filmmaking history.
Preserving the "Kata" Against External Pressures
James R. Brandon, an American scholar who devoted his scholarship to Kabuki, describes the art form as centered on a type of code, “a theater in which the art of acting is central, and in which playwright and actor cooperate to achieve the unique style of performance found only in Kabuki.” Brandon notes that in Japanese tradition, there is always the right way to do something, known as “kata,” which turns into the model for the future generation who choose to pursue the art.
Despite some worries about the survival of Kabuki, the new Kikugoro affirmed his belief in Kabuki’s “kata,” stating that nothing needed to change, as the core spirit of the art form remains as relevant as ever. He explained, “By using kata, what we want to truly communicate the most in the tradition of Kabuki is human compassion, that spirit of caring for others.”
The playwright Chikamatsu Monzaemon, who penned “The Love Suicides at Sonezaki,” lived during Japan’s 18th century isolationist Tokugawa period. This period predates any potential influence from Western works like Shakespeare, highlighting the independent development of Japan's distinct cultural forms. What often strikes Westerners about Kabuki is the “utter abandonment of any attempt to portray reality, as things might appear on the surface, or how people might behave naturally,” with actors striking dramatic poses called “mie” and delivering lines in singsong poetry.
This commitment to ancestral tradition, passed through family lines and upheld by a dedicated native class, ensures the continuity of a unique cultural core, demonstrating a profound national self-determination.