Buddhist Monks, Prostitutes, and Visual Kei: Yoshitoshi's Art in a Kagrra, Pamphlet

This entry marks the very first entry for the New Year, all the more reason for my blog to start being more productive.  Even though I'm going to be very busy with college, I will need to write to relieve stress and focus myself that much harder, and the New Year is a time for new beginnings.

Originally, I was working on this entry last July when the calamity happened.  And I've held onto it in favour of more traditional but non-Kagrra, related posts since then.  But with the New Year I want to work harder to spread as much traditional Japanese information as I can.  I think my first entry of 2012 may as well be a continuation of this philosophy; I want to write about some things that only Kagrra, can manage to bring up and make some vague sense out of in order for me to discuss it.

For the most part, besides this introduction, I've kept the entry just as it was while I was originally writing it.  I still plan to joke about Isshi's dumb ideas and purposefully difficult over-traditional themes, because I am still a fan of that music and motif, and I will always remember fondly his obsessive personality and traditional leanings, as I see myself developing them further as well.  I also keep all mention of him in the present tense; partly out of laziness, but mostly because now I've decided there's no use to make it seem so dour.  Kagrra,'s music and words and pictures and stories will always be with us; and here on the internet we can always find much more information about it, new fan or old, that everything remains present and relevant.  Isshi's beliefs will never really be gone, or over, or finished, so it's not like I can just stop all entries related to that.  I will always find something new from something old, and songs about old things wrapped in twelve layers of Heian kimono and mysteries will always plague each and every one of us Kagrra, fans.

So I'd like to pick up just where I left off and tell you about a popular old folk character, traditional Japan, and Isshi.

Over the course of their final tour, Kagrra, (remember them?) released several pamphlets which consisted of many photos of the band and its members.  One pamphlet in particular featured five different photo-shoots with each member by himself, in a distinctive style that seemed to represent him and what he wanted to convey at last as it was coming down to the wire.  It was oddly reminiscent of the Miyako photobooks; you feel a sense of what they are about, what they are wanting to tell you, now that they won't be doing any more photo-shoots.  And then, there was Isshi.



Yes!  They're all Yoshitoshi.

It seems only fitting that the subject of my very first Kagrra, review, the very first song that I heard, was a number of Yoshitoshi prints included in the Kotodama PV.  And here, in the last pictures of Kagrra,, another set of Yoshitoshi prints.  But I will not be finalizing my Kagrra, reviews.  I still feel that Kagrra, is a good way to introduce oneself to this type of traditional Japanese culture, and I'm always in need of direction from someone as to what I should write about, so it might as well be them.  Plus, good Visual Kei is so hard to find.  So for all of Kagrra,'s fans, and hopefully for new ones who will stumble upon them and have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on (as so many of us do), I shall continue to do my best "translating" the essence of Kagrra, and Neo-Japanesque into English for all who would like to learn.

And just to show you how much I appreciate you taking the time to read this, I will separate each piece into its own entry, so you won't be over-encumbered and give up the effort as you rightfully should, had I chose to compile them all into one of my patented mega-entries.  They'll all going to be pretty long, though, but it could be much much worse!

All three prints are from (more coincidence!) Yoshitoshi's final major series, 『新形三十六怪撰』, or "New Forms of 36 Ghosts", 1889-1892.  It is also one of my favourites.  He'd visited this subject matter several times before, and previously done a ghost anthology, thus why he returns and titles this one the "new forms".  Some of them you've seen before, like the Nue and Rashomon no Oni from Kagrra,'s 10th Anniversary tour, Tsuchigumo and Male Rokurokubi from my common yōkai entry, and the faithful nurse praying under a waterfall in the Kotodama review.



Let's start with this one.



She's 地獄太夫, Jigoku Dayu, the Hell Courtesan!

This immediately reminded me of the Kotodama PV, because with all of her story and history and connotations Isshi is wanting to draw out, the first thing you're hit with is, "Ooooh, scary skeletons!"

Like in Kotodama, it seems to have been chosen for that initial shock value, the striking imagery of horror you're supposed to feel when you listen to a ghost story, like the ones Isshi writes and Kagrra, puts to music.  These skeletons are on parade, the ghostly handmaidens of our heroine.  They are a popular motif in many ukiyo-e of Jigoku Dayu.

Aahh, but I'm getting ahead of myself.  Let's start at the beginning.

What is a Tayuu?

Tayuu, voiced and popularly romanized as Someone-Dayu, is a form of yujo.  A yujo is a prostitute.  However!  Prostitution in Japan, especially around this time, is far removed from the scantily clad unfortunates posted on seedy street corners that you may immediately think of.  A Tayuu is the highest rank of Oiran, which is far above common yujo.  Oiran were "courtesans".

Prostitution was legal in the Edo period, but only within certain areas run by the government, walled off from the city.  And they were walled in quite literally.



As one walked down the street, women would call to you from behind the lattice, sticking their arms out to show off the pale and soft flesh, grabbing at you.  It is at once highly erotic and highly disturbing.  Men would peek in through the fence, catching glimpses of the lovely ladies at their leisure, generally displaying themselves in a relaxed, fashionable, appealing way, smoking a pipe near a lantern, fanning themselves lazily.



Isshi has recreated this in a photo-shoot before.

Having been looked down upon for such carnal pursuits by the prudish Victorians, a number of laws and ordinances were constantly passed and reissued to control the population of working women, though eventually geisha and their well-trained artistic entertainment eclipsed the popularity of spending time with an Oiran.  So the Oiran were constantly herded around, legal one day here, and illegal the next.  Oiran, as courtesans, weren't originally so far from geisha.  The general idea was the same, in the beginning: after a long day of work, a man of lower class could head over to Shimabara in Kyoto, or Yoshiwara in Tokyo, and spend an evening enjoying the bright lights and sights and sounds and entertainment of the district, pay for a well-dressed lovely lady to spend time showing him the best spots, sing a few drinking songs, and be made to feel important.  Of course, the games geisha play were generally less raucous and crude, and inevitably only the Oiran would spend the night with you.  It's not to say that some geisha didn't put out; there was a foul term for that type, and it was highly looked down on.  It's also not to say that the man would only want the company of a woman and hire an Oiran to enjoy the evening without having sex with her; eventually it became so commonplace that, as I mentioned, geisha became more popular since they were highly trained and less vulgar in speech and manner, and the men got to be where they weren't paying for sex, but companionship, which made the geisha much more ideal.

But for a time, Oiran were the popular, sought-after ladies.  They had a very distinctive way of dress.



AHHHH!!

No, at the time, this was considered higly erotic.  This is what was sexy to your average Edo-period male.  Bright, flashy colours, multiple layers of fabric, heavily embroidered with glittering gold and silver thread, large images stitched on depicting flowers, birds, and insects.  Its modern day equivalent is a skintight t-shirt proclaiming "I'm easy".  A merchant class citizen and his wife were the lowest rung of middle-class society, and they'd wear plain, muted, brown and grey and otherwise drab colours.  Geisha would wear soft pastels with interesting colour-blocking, which was viewed with interest, and often seen as more erotic, since she had dressed herself so carefully while looking effortless, and one could never know exactly how her body was, what parts she found the most sensitive when touched, things like that.  The Oiran, well, she was all out there.

The first thing you notice is that the obi is tied in the front.  That's open advertising.  It has a very striking style, as opposed to the prim and tightly folded obi at the back that a normal woman would wear.  Also, of course, as one has finished tying her obi she must carefully hold her kimono as she rotates the finished product to the back, and then again as she moves it back around to begin untying it at the end of the day.

The Oiran keeps her obi knotted loosely, not tucked in to tight shapes, and in front.  That way, when it's time to take it off, it's a few quick pulls and she's naked.  This is also the most popular reason that the yujo would tie the obi in front.

Isshi always ties his obi in front.



No, don't get the wrong idea!  I think it's much more Visual Kei this way.  Women's obi are much thicker and heavier than men's.  So Kagrra, wears their obi knotted in front, rather than tying it in the back, as then a specific ladies' knot style would be needed, which would make it appear much less Visual and much more plain old cross-dressing.  While he's dressed like a flamboyant, hyper-sexed Oiran, it seems more methodical, a style wildly different from your average kimono-wearing woman.  Oiran were highly popular as entertainers, and had their own fan-bases outside of their districts, much like Kabuki actors, from which Visual Kei takes its cues.



Hell, here's a Kabuki actor dressed as an Oiran.

Anyway, that's why Isshi ties his obi in the front, I think.



It's still kind of disturbing.

But back to actual Oiran.  With hair piled high and countless... things... many sorts of things, just stuck right in there, faces heavily painted, she was a sight to behold.  They'd have parades down the streets of Yoshiwara, and the Oiran would carefully saunter past, walking in a meandering figure-eight pattern.  They had to tread slowly and carefully, often with help.  Why?  Well...



Oiran wore a... very special type of geta.  Most geisha and Oiran, when not wearing plain geta or zori, would wear a type of sandal called koppori, or pokkuri.  Maiko (geisha-in-training) wore an extremely high shoe called okobo.  These shoes were like huge blocks underfoot, without the two "teeth" like geta.  The main purpose of this was to elevate oneself so that you didn't get unsightly mud and filth on the hem of your kimono.  Oiran wore these distinctive geta, elevated beyond all good reason, with three teeth.



No mud will ever get on that kimono.  I shudder to think of the amount of mud needed to reach that hem.  Another difference was that Oiran didn't wear tabi, socks.



Their bare feet, toes wriggling atop those lacquered stilts, was another come-hither gesture on the part of the Oiran.



And another handy Neo-Japanesque thing to translate into the seemingly modern Visual Kei standbys of putting your rock stars in tranny heels.

Going back up to that scary old photo of the Oiran with two young girls, let's talk about them.



They are called Kamuro, and they will eternally haunt your nightmares.

So-named because of their hairstyle, which colloquially means "bald", but in this instance refers to the shorn cut of hairstyle that lower-class girls and women of the pleasure quarters had.  A Kamuro and most other levels of prostitute would have a shorter hair-cut with bangs.  You'll remember how important womens' hair is in Japanese culture, and to cut it was seen as a depressing or disgraceful thing.

The Kamuro are the Oiran's assistants, they help her get ready and go with her to events, and are basically themselves Oiran-in-training, adolescents who most likely will become Shinzo as teenagers, apprentice Oiran.



Isshi looks like a pissed-off Oiran surrounded by the world's ugliest Kamuro enforcers.

When an Oiran is attending a party, a festival, or most likely has been summoned to a client, an enormous parade takes place.  This is mainly because not many Oiran were called upon for a high-profile client on a regular basis, so when an Oiran was going from her district to the arranged meeting-place, a huge to-do went down the likes of which cements the Oiran and her hugely flamboyant look and entourage into the motifs of art, theatre and Visual Kei.

First off come a few men hitting wooden blocks together, or ringing bells, or driving staffs into the ground to make a lot of noise.  Another man will hold lanterns, usually sporting the crest of the Oiran's establishment.  Then come the Kamuro, usually a pair, but sometimes a few more.  They would be holding expensive-looking lacquered boxes which contained the Oiran's dressing kit and any and all supplies she might require for the evening.  After them walked the Oiran, and behind her the Shinzo.





But the main focus of all of this festivity was the Oiran.  Two men would often walk with her.  One would stand behind supporting a very large umbrella to protect her from the elements (most often the sun if it was a daytime parade).  The other man would stand beside her, supporting her as she walked.  Obviously the Kamuro couldn't do this, as they would be children and not tall enough to provide a shoulder to the Oiran in her enormous geta, so one of the house workers in his plain garb would stand by with a handkerchief handily placed on his shoulder to protect his clothing from sweaty white makeup smudges.



The Oiran herself, dressed in her finest paraphernalia, would perform this insane lingering gait, known as the "figure-eight walk", where her feet would weave in and out of semi-circles in a challenging and ridiculous-looking way.  But that was considered very erotic at the time, so you can judge for yourself in the video below.

click here

So that's the Oiran.  But what the hell does all of this have to do with Hell, and Jigoku Dayu?  Well, that story comes from the adventures of Ikkyū-san, a legendary figure with a legendary life, and your guess is as good as mine as to how much of it is actually true.  But his story is amazing and very popular, so I'll tell you a little about him now.

Ikkyū Sōjun (一休宗純) is perhaps one of the most famous Zen Buddhist monks in Japanese culture.

Born in 1394 as the unrecognised son of the emperor (wow, what a loaded sentence...), he was put into a Zen monastery and began to study Chinese aesthetics.  He learned ink-painting, poetry, philosophy and other forms of art.  His own works in these fields are often cited as some of the most beautiful and calming, thoughtful, interesting, entertaining examples of the medium.

Pretty good for a guy who was simply so witty and rebellious he could have starred in his own anime adventure show.



Oh that's right, he did.

Ikkyū-san was a children's cartoon that was extremely popular among kids and adults alike.  Zen morality was paired with a young Ikkyū's questioning mind, often out-thinking his teachers by approaching problems with a childlike wisdom or alternative way of being that would solve any issue and make the most out of any situation.

The real Ikkyū was notorious for this sort of thing, which at times was downright sacrilegious.  First achieving enlightenment and becoming a Zen Master at the age of 26 when he heard a crow's cry, he went to his teacher and reported on this breakthrough.  His teacher told him that the breakthrough would elevate him to a rakan but not a Zen Master, Ikkyū replied, "That's OK, I don't really want to be a Zen Master anyway."  Of course, to focus on one's path to enlightenment, but not be concerned with labels was proof that Ikkyū was well on his way, and he was declared a Zen Master for this pure thought.  Hundreds of anecdotes like these make up the fact and fiction of the legend that is Ikkyū.  He did things differently, and it caught on with people.

One of the most controversial things he did differently was his belief that man was made the way that he was for a reason, and that "anyone can achieve enlightenment, but so few can maintain it living in the human world".  In a world filled with desires, was it man's easily-tempted nature that causes suffering, or was it a part of oneself that must be acknowledged and allowed to lead one's way by instinct, but not enough to allow lust to overtake the soul?  Ikkyū's worldly desires, the question of non-duality, the belief that everything is both pure and unpure, and even the most profane of profanities in it posessed Buddha-nature, was his kōan, a puzzle without answer upon which he would meditate and hope to achieve enlightenment.

Which is all a very kind way of saying that he embraced the parts of him that wanted to eat forbidden food, or speak out against conformity, and call out other monks whom he felt were hypocrites.

He also loved sex.



Like the call of a crow, the call of a prostitute to Ikkyū also inspired new levels of transcendence.  He believed that since all men were born out of such an act, and the feelings one had, the overpowering need for it was not by accident, that perhaps further discovery upon man's nature, and even enlightenment could be gained by engaging in sexual activity, instead of simply denying oneself and living celibate as monks were requred to do.

It didn't go over well among his peers, but his poetry and writings on the subject are at once endearing and interesting and different, and spoke to many people, cementing Ikkyū's status as a legendary figure, not to mention the many other aspects of his life that were so fantastic and rumoured that his entire existence seems like the stuff of legend.

Please read this article.

It is an absolutely wonderful, fascinating essay on Ikkyū's life, and is much better-written and more informative than I could ever be.  It's extremely entertaining and thought-provoking as well.

But back to the sex.

Believing sex was a holy thing, Ikkyū was in the habit of going to the prostitute quarters dressed in his finest black monk's robes, bringing along his constant companion, a stick topped with a clattering skull, which reminded all of the inevitability of death.



The inevitability and preciousness of death.

He would then engage with prostitutes, writing love poems and thoughts on his feelings and question the purpose of desire.  Sex was a religious rite to him, and he treat everything with the utmost respect, meditating and reciting prayers, and even folding his robes ever-so-carefully before the acts.

This part was not included in the kid's show, for some reason.

And here is where the legendary parts kick in.

Supposedly in one of his visits to a brothel, he met a woman by the name of Jigoku Dayu.  In her he noticed a keen understanding nature, and the two of them traded poems with one another.  He then took her under his wing and educated her in reading, writing, and the ways of the Buddha.  Supposedly she achieved enlightenment, renounced her wicked ways, and lived a religious life.

A fine little anecdote.  But it is with the name that we raise question.  Why "Jigoku", why hell?

The most logical answer is that Jigoku Dayu is simply the moniker of any courtesan that worked in the unlicensed quarters of the city.  But this doesn't make sense.  Ikkyū was clearly not ashamed of the things that he was pursuing, since he spent so much time explaining and meditating on the breakthroughs he was achieving by visiting the brothels.  He made a habit of visiting licensed quarters in order to make sure that his intentions and method were understood.  Ikkyū would treat the situation respectfully, not flaunting, simply voicing his belief that sex was an inherent desire and the acknowledgement and control of it were a necessary part of one's worldly experience.  Why would he go to an unlicensed quarter, where it could easily be assumed he was going to do something else, or was embarrassed or wanting to hide his intentions?

In response, the next explanation offered was simply this:  Jigoku was the name she chose for her "Oiran personality", since Oiran, like geisha and kabuki actors and other people in the pleasure and entertainment districts of town took on their own glorified "stage names".  Since she had such an appealing personality, perhaps this was a bit of an insight into her humour and disposition.

But the most popular interpretation, and might I add, my own interpretation, is this one:

She was quite literally a courtesan from Hell.

Hey, if we're going to have a legendary anecdote, let's make it a legendary anecdote!

The moral of the story attests to Ikkyū's understanding of the nature of things, and the ability to find Buddha-aspects in even the most profane of profanities, and it certainly has more of an impact on the abilities of helping her achieve an education and enlightenment this way.

So the story is purposefully told with the definition.

A beautiful courtesan is sent from Hell to stray man from the correct path.  It is only when she meets Ikkyū, who sees and yet respects her true nature, while seeing and respecting his own desires, that he is able to help her understand the positive side of her nature, and in fact he enables a being from Hell to achieve enlightenment from her ways of nefarious intent.

So, all the demons and skeletons can be reminding her of the inevitability of death, like Ikkyū's staff, or they are the spectres of her former life, either as a prostitute or as an unenlightened soul.  But the artists found it more fun to just depict her as the Hell Courtesan, and have creepy imagery contrast with the beauty of her exposed neck and feet and erotic dress, the way Ikkyū saw her.

And all of this is of course my prelude so that the reader can understand the context of the multitude of ukiyo-e depicting Jigoku Dayu.  And now you can identify everybody by sight!



We've seen the most famous print of her, the Yoshitoshi print Isshi uses in the photoset, but here is another verison of her by Yoshitoshi, complete with kamuro, umbrella-guy, Ikkyū, and his skull-staff.



Actor Bando Hikosaburo as an onnagata portraying Jigoku Dayu in a kabuki, by Kunisada II.  Please note the Buddhist imagery prominently featured on the Oiran's clothing.  You will see this included in almost every instance of a print with Jigoku Dayu.



Ikkyū genially approaches Jigoku Dayu, in another popular print, by Ogata Gekkō.



This print, by Kyōsai, depicts a variation of the Jigoku Dayu tale.  One day, when Ikkyū came to the brothel, he sat to enjoy a meal of fresh fish and sake, which are forbidden to Buddhist monks.  Jigoku Dayu, with her sharp mind, assumed that this person was an imposter claiming to be the famous Ikkyū.  She summoned entertainment for him, and hid behind her screen to watch him.  When she looked, she saw Ikkyū happily dancing along with skeletons, and knew that he was who he said.  This can be interpreted in a number of ways: Ikkyū is famous for reminding everyone of the inevitability of death with his skull-stick, and had commented often that under our skins which we so earnestly protect, is only a skeleton which will one day be all that is left of us.  Perhaps when Jigoku Dayu saw him dancing, she understood this and was set upon her path of enlightenment.  Or perhaps she simply meant to test the possibly false monk with a company of her deceased and demonic court, and knew him to be Ikkyū when he simply accepted the music and her evil nature for what it was, and danced along with them, which inspired her to trust a human and become educated in the ways of the Buddha.



This is, besides the Yoshitoshi work Isshi selected, my favourite image of Jigoku Dayu.  Also by Kyōsai.

So why did Isshi choose this print?

I stated earlier, and in Kotodama, that Kagrra, and Yoshitoshi have relied on the shocking imagery tactic to get people interested in traditional Japanese stories.



Isshi poses with this print the most, insinuating himself among the skeletons and contrasting his own demonic look with hers.



Here he even positions his sensu fan over her face, so it almost appears that he is a part of the print, and the many distinctive trinkets in Jigoku Dayu's hair are in fact his.

Of course, Isshi himself has a profound interest in Buddhist lore, imagery and philosophy, which is often evidenced in his writing.  Most of all I like the duality and non-duality of the story.  Male and female, heaven and hell, human and demon, purity and impurity, all themes heavily featured in Isshi's songs and stage persona.  A demonic woman can become enlightened and a holy man can be corrupt.  The human side is evidenced in both of them, though a demon should not be able to identify with humanity, and a monk should not be able to identify with lust and desire.  It is by kenshō, seeing and embracing one's true nature, that these two found who they really were and achieved satori, understanding, enlightenment, and peace.

A wonderful lesson taught to us by our oni friend Isshi!

Ah, this took me so long.  But the next installment will hopefully come much sooner, and be considerably shorter.  I must thank Isshi for, among other things, selecting prints with very interesting stories that keep me sane and grounded amidst the chaos of my heavy schedule. Thank you also to LiveJournal user sutafairu for sharing the scans. All of the pamphlet images belong to them. Please look for Part II coming soon!