In 1989 I embarked upon a five month visit to Japan as a research scholar at Tokyo University. The purpose of my research was to examine in detail the training methods employed by the major schools of Noh and also to extend my practical knowledge of mask making. It formed an important part of a more general overview of performance art in the West and how, in my view, a more intensive and skill-based programme of training discipline through the use of mask would create a fundamental change in the current ideas on actor training.

This Japan experience has had a profound effect upon my attitude to theatre and I am eternally grateful for the opportunity and support I received to undertake this project. I had secured enough funding from the British Academy and from friends to stay in Japan for two weeks. The British Council in Tokyo had organised accommodation in a small self-catering house in the Tokyo suburbs, and the car which took me to it from Tokyo Airport.

I met Jo Barnet, the Director of the British Council in Tokyo, the following day. His contribution to my stay proved invaluable for it was he who led me to most of the key people who would be able to help me with my research. Firstly he introduced me to my hosts Chizuko and Naoichi Tsuyama who owned the tiny house which was to become my home for the duration of my stay. The circumstances surrounding this free let were extraordinary and humbling. After the last war, Naoichi came to England as a young doctor to study British methods of orthopaedic surgery. He said that his subsequent work in Japan was deeply influenced by his London experience and that the hospitality he received whilst resident there was such that he wanted to repay it by making available at no cost this small second home for visiting students from Britain, usually for about two weeks. Both he and Chizuko spoke fluent English. Chizuko spent many hours with me discussing the written works of her Indian Guru which she had translated into Japanese from English. During my stay I created many illustrations for these books and by doing so I felt more comfortable about receiving their extended hospitality.

Secondly, I was placed under the supervision of Yasunari Takahashi, Professor of English Literature at Tokyo University. His knowledge of all the traditions of Japanese theatre, including Noh, Kabuki and Bunraku was extraordinarily rich. It was he more than anyone who was so influential in introducing me to the leading practitioners in their performance art and enabling me to gain access to the very private areas of training, rehearsal and performance preparation. He also led me to many performances of modern Japanese theatre and music and also - not unrelated in the Noh scheme of things - to the training and performance arenas of Sumo wrestling.

In the end I stayed in Tokyo for five months. I was invited to do some teaching of English to a variety of Japanese students and I quickly found that the money I earned would more than enable me to extend my stay for as long as it was necessary to properly complete my research programme. I got on well with my hosts and so the free let of their tiny house was extended from the usual two weeks for as long as I needed it. I had never before experienced such generous hospitality. Wherever I went I was taken care of with great care and warmth. This made my stay an absolute joy.

I spent much of my time at the Tessen-Kai Noh Laboratory, the home of a branch of the Kanze School of Noh. Many times each week I would observe the ritualistic, formal training and rehearsal of Noh actors under the guidance of their master. I recorded my observations using a combination of notation and drawing. I was shown and allowed to handle some of the oldest Noh masks belonging to the school which dated back to the origins of Noh in the 14th century. I watched props being made and the special rehearsals which demonstrated their use; looked at the hallowed cabinets of costume and wigs, met rehearsing musicians, and even watched a fifteen minute rehearsal of a three year old Kokata {boy actor).

Only once did I see a Noh cycle where the performance reached such spiritual heights that it transcended the complex elements of technical virtuosity. When I mentioned this to Yasunari he smiled, and said that he had yet to enjoy the same memorable experience!

I spent a week in the ancient capital of Kyoto and was splendidly looked after by the British Council who organised visits to a school of Kyogen, and a mask carver, Michishige Udaka. He was of special interest to me because he was not only a mask maker but also a Shite (masked actor) at the height of his career with the Congo school based in Kyoto. He was also one of the few Noh actors keen to experiment with the Noh form, especially in the use of the mask. In his presence I felt I was experiencing something which would influence change in the traditional Noh performance: a bridge with the future.

This slight account of my Noh experience in Japan hardly touches the detail and wonder of my discovery . All of this is to be found in the second volume (of four) of my book about actor training, published by Harwood Academic Publishers, called MASK: A RELEASE OF ACTING RESOURCES.

Finally, I discovered the work of actor/writer Zeami who lived and worked in the later part of the 14th century and whose Treatises still reverberate in the schools of Noh. What he had to say about training and performance for actors has made a lasting impression upon my own thinking. 'When an actor has achieved a genuine level of perfect Fluency ...no matter which of the myriad roles he may play, he will perform with complete ease, indeed even without a conscious sense of ease. His art will surpass skill, transcend intention.'

© David Griffiths 2001 David Griffiths is a member of Yorkshire Playwrights.