You find yourself in Imizu, Toyama, walking along its quiet Uchikawa canal just after sunset. You pass between its rows of tightly packed homes, drawn along by the charming confidence of the rusted sheet metal and soft-colored paint that adorn them. Suddenly, the steady thumping of drums greets your ears, followed by woodwinds, chants, bells, claps, stomps–a song the likes of which you’ve never heard.
Rounding a corner, you’re greeted by a strange sight: throngs of people surrounding a man. The man is clad in a traditional yet nonetheless extravagant garb, colored with a dizzying mix of green, gold, and purple. Your eyes are then drawn to the long staff he holds, drawn to the dancing flame that sits atop it. A man approaches him from behind, wearing a strange mask–an angry, red mask with a long nose protruding from its center. The mask is framed by a long mane of white hair that shakes to and fro, as the man inspects his surroundings. The two appear to be searching for something. You wonder what it might be.
Suddenly, a monstrous face slides out from the darkness, the reflection of the man’s flame swimming across the black, red, and gold mass of its maw. As the beast reveals more of itself, you’re taken aback by its long, centipede-like body, composed of a long, ornately woven cloth with several sets of protruding legs. The beast slithers forth, shaking from side to side and threatening the men with its powerful rows of teeth. Man and beast face off, one with fire and cunning, and the other with raw, terrifying strength.
This is a lion dance, known in Japanese as shishimai.
Shishimai is an elaborate traditional dance that centers upon a shishi lion and its strikingly expressive and often scary head. The dance is often thought of as a distinct element of Chinese culture and is still performed to this day in China and Taiwan, as well as in Chinatowns around the world, contributing greatly to this association. However, it’s also performed in countries all across Asia–such as Japan, South Korea, and Vietnam–with major differences depending on where you view it.
Records suggest that shishimai has been performed in Japan since 752. With such a long history, the dance has become an invaluable part of Japanese tradition, performed at Shinto festivals and as a part of performing arts like noh, kagura, and kabuki. Even within Japan, the dance differs radically by region and occasion, and it’s said that around 9,000 variations of the dance are performed across the country.
Toyama, in particular, is famous for its abundance of shishimai. Around 850 different shishimai are performed in the prefecture, the most in the country. Beyond sheer numbers though, Toyama’s shishimai boast an idiosyncratic blend of styles that you’d be hard pressed to find elsewhere in the country, with different towns performing different forms of the dance. The real king here though is easily the mukade-shishi or centipede lion, where multiple people clamber inside a long cloth attached to the shishigashira lion head. The result is the traditional lion mask trailed by a whirling mass of legs and garment. This at times grotesque, at others gorgeous sight has unsurprisingly become a local favorite, performed in several towns across Toyama. Among those is the charming seaside town of Imizu, where I had the pleasure of witnessing the mukade-shishi with my own eyes.
The shishimai I watched was conducted by an organization known as the Hodoji-machi Shishimai Hozonkai (法土寺町獅子舞保存会), or in English, the Hodoji-machi Shishimai Preservation Society. After the performance, I had the opportunity to sit down with a few members of the Preservation Society to discuss the organization’s activities and the history of shishimai in Toyama. The talk painted a compelling picture of small town youth banding together to ensure their local culture isn’t forgotten. It also illuminated much of the imagery and symbolism of the performance I watched, adding another layer of meaning to the experience.
The Hodoji-machi Shishimai Preservation Society is composed mostly of younger individuals in their 20s and 30s, bolstered by a host of even younger volunteers from local elementary, middle, and high schools. While the society performs on many occasions throughout the year, they are primarily active in spring, appearing at the festivals it brings. Before festival performances, schools close, and the society practices for 2 hours every day. Preparing for the shishimai is evidently hard work, with so many elements and roles to manage. Safety is a concern too, with one characteristic of local shishimai being the use of fire, an element that injects a lot of life (and a lot of heat) into the performance. However, the hardest part apparently isn’t the fire or the big, snake-like lion costume or the elaborate dances, but rather the musical accompaniment composed of woodwinds and taiko drums. Taking all of this in, it became clear that the society’s performances are a real team effort, and one that consistently brings the community together.
The talk also shed light on what I had seen that evening. One of the society’s popular shows is a mukade-shishi performance known as the Shishi-goroshi Lion Killing. The story involves the titular lion and a handful of other characters, including the two guys I mentioned in the introduction, who, as it turns out, are tengu goblins. In addition to the fire polearm, they also wield bows, swords, and even more fire-based weaponry, employing distinct dances for each one. Two young girls also take part in the action, bringing a blast of color to the scene with their flower crowns and batons. Eventually, the group succeeds in putting the lion to sleep with a big barrel of sake and are at last able to kill the beast, bringing the performance to an end. I later learned that the purpose of this elaborate battle is to ward off evil and pray for good harvest and haul. What a wild, stylish way to go about doing so.
Watching the show, I was able to grasp the broad strokes of this story, but my lack of familiarity with lion dances (this was my first one) added even more to the excitement. Who were these characters? Who should I support? Both tengu and lion alike were threatening in appearance, with their angry, monstrous faces. Who was the good guy here? Hearing the organizers explain the story themselves, all of the parts that didn’t click for me on that first viewing came together into something that made sense. Still, there’s something to be said for the mystery and excitement of that first time around, a primal magic that only the best stories can channel. For those interested, I recommend you go in blind, knowing as little about shishimai as possible (the information I provided here barely scratches the surface). Follow Hodoji-machi Shishimai Preservation Society’s official instagram account (Japanese only) for info on upcoming performances!
This performance, this story really completed my trip to Imizu, Toyama, and I desperately want more people to experience both the town and its particular flavor of shishimai. For those seeking authentic experiences and encounters in local Japan, Imizu is, for my money, one of the best spots in local Hokuriku. It’s a loveable, welcoming town with solid access from Tokyo and Kanazawa, where I’m sure many of you will be visiting. Check out my article on it here!
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All images not owned by WaWo Japan Travel were obtained from the following sources:
★ Toyama Kanko Navi
[https://www.info-toyama.com/]
For specific credits, please hover over each image.
<Author>
Joseph Bayliss
Travel Consultant at WaWo Japan Travel
