A History of Japanese Theatre ed. by Jonah Salz, and: Edo Kabuki in Transition: From the Worlds of the Samurai to the Vengeful Female Ghost by Satoko Shimazaki, and: Onnagata: A Labyrinth of Gendering in Kabuki Theater by Maki Isaka (review)

It is a fitting tribute that Jonah Salz’s new history of Japanese theatre is dedicated to the late James Brandon and begins with a foreword he penned shortly before his death in 2015. Bringing together the work of nearly 60 scholars of Japanese theatre from Japan and the West—many of them mentored, trained, or otherwise inspired by Brandon—A History of Japanese Theatre carries forward his tireless efforts to bring the full richness and variety of Japanese theatre to readers and audiences outside Japan.

Brandon concludes his foreword with the observation that it has been more than two decades since the single previous effort at a comprehensive history of Japanese theatre in English. Although not identified by name, this predecessor is Benito Ortolani’s Japanese Theatre: From Shamanistic Ritual to Contemporary Pluralism ([1990] 1995). Ortolani’s volume has served admirably for many years (not just by virtue of its monopoly on the market) and will surely retain its appeal as a coherent, manageably sized overview of the grand progression and diversity of Japanese theatre. Nevertheless, as the work of a single scholar, as well as for its self-acknowledged imbalances—often stemming from a desire to shore up areas of neglect in earlier English-language scholarship—it has its limitations.

A History of Japanese Theatre for the most part overcomes such problems. It surpasses its predecessor in depth and detail, in breadth and diversity of perspectives, and in its inclusion of images, up-to-date bibliographies, and other reference material. One key element of the volume’s approach is to move beyond Eurocentric (pre)conceptions and seek an inclusive perspective that encompasses “the full range of musical, dance, and dramatic genres” in Japan (xxxvii). In addition to the major forms of traditional and modern theatre, then, readers are also introduced to the ancient continental forms of gigaku, sangaku, and bugaku; ritual forms such as kagura and rice-planting performance; traveling entertainments including shirabyōshi, kusemai, and kugutsu; storytelling ranging from the chanting of biwa hōshi and jōruri to rakugo and kamishibai; classical dance and avantgarde butoh; carnivalesque misemono sideshows and manzai comedy duos; postwar angura (underground), multimedia, and postdramatic performance; and contemporary commercial theatre from Western-style musicals to the Takarazuka revue.

The boundaries of “Japanese theatre” are stretched and reconfigured in other ways, too. A broad geographic perspective leads to the inclusion of Okinawa’s hybrid kumiodori, as well as the theatre of colonial and wartime China, Korea, and Indonesia. Japanese theatre’s mutually constructive relationship with the West is a recurring theme, with sections devoted, for instance, to the adaptation of Shakespeare into traditional forms and early European and American encounters with noh and kabuki. Japan’s domestic peripheries receive their share of attention, too—not just rural performance traditions, but also spaces and practices where urban and rural come into contact, such as regional kabuki (ji-kabuki) and traveling theatre troupes (tabi-shibai). Many of these “marginal” topics are explored, appropriately enough, in short sections that stand apart from the main text. Titled “Spotlight,” “Focus,” or “Interlude” (depending on length and subject matter), these sections give space not only to less familiar forms of performance, but also to significant individuals, famous productions, and topics ranging from costuming and theatre music to pedagogy, training, and government funding.

In turning to the modern and contemporary periods, Salz uses the metaphor of “strata” (xxxiv), borrowed from Donald Richie (1992...