[2025] Notte Stellata 2025

[yuzurujenn]

*machine translation, inaccuracies exist*

 

2025.04.21

 

Source: https://digital.kyodonews.jp/deepedge/column/figureskating-art-cafe/105448/

 

[Part 1] Rhythm, beat, steps and movement: Noh and Kyogen are fundamentally connected. Yuzuru Hanyu vs. Mansai Nomura. Behind the scenes of an ice show where two performers transcending boundaries resonate with each other.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu, who hails from Sendai City, collaborated with kyogen actor Mansai Nomura in the memorial ice show "notte stellata," held in remembrance of the 14th anniversary of the Great East Japan Earthquake. The venue was the Sekisui Heim Super Arena in Rifu, Miyagi Prefecture—part of the "Grande 21" complex, which served as a temporary morgue immediately after the disaster.

 

Spoiler

Nomura portrayed Abe no Seimei in the film Onmyoji, while Hanyu famously chose the program "SEIMEI" for his free skate at the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics.

From this ice show, which brought together two artists crossing the boundaries of genre, emerged a surprising realization: that figure skating and traditional Japanese performing arts like Noh and Kyogen share a deep, underlying connection.

 

In this two-part interview series, a journalist specializing in classical performing arts speaks with Nomura about what happened behind the scenes.

 

In Part 1, the focus is on how Hanyu came to perform the role of a shikigami—a spirit summoned by the onmyoji (sorcerer)—in this production, the order of the pieces “MANSAI Boléro” and “SEIMEI,” and the details of their planning and rehearsals.

 

What is "notte stellata"?

 

This program, titled “Notte Stellata”—Italian for “a sky full of stars”—was performed by Yuzuru Hanyu during the exhibition at the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics, and he now leads the production as its main star.

 

Hanyu was affected by the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake in his hometown of Sendai on March 11. He recalls seeing the starry night sky during the blackout and feeling it as a “light of hope.”

 

The show began in 2023, and over time Hanyu has performed alongside notable figures such as Kohei Uchimura, a two-time Olympic gold medalist in men’s gymnastics, and Mao Daichi, a well-known actress.

 

What can be done close to the spectator seats? Mansai's proposal to set up a Noh stage on the ice

 

— This time, you performed two pieces: “MANSAI Bolero” and “SEIMEI.” “MANSAI Bolero” was created and presented with the intention of conveying a message of remembrance and recovery following the Great East Japan Earthquake. Was it decided from the beginning that these two pieces would be performed at the ice show?

“I believe the idea to perform SEIMEI came first. When it was decided to hold the show in Rifu, Miyagi Prefecture, I was asked, ‘In addition to SEIMEI, what else would you like to do?’ Given the significance of the location, I said I would very much like to perform Bolero. That proposal came from me.”

 

— After the opening night on March 7, during Yuzuru Hanyu’s media interview, he mentioned that you were still saying ‘What should we do?’ after arriving in Miyagi. So at that point, it wasn’t finalized yet?

“When I said ‘What should we do?’ it wasn’t about MANSAI Bolero itself—I had already fully developed my part. I meant the collaboration with skating. I threw out a lot of wild ideas at first. When I looked at past collaborations in Notte Stellata, for example with Kohei Uchimura, they were performed side-by-side. A large part of the north side of the rink had to be blocked off, so only that space was usable. It worked for television, but from the audience’s perspective, it felt far away. So I proposed: couldn’t we do something closer to the audience? As for MANSAI Bolero, I made a bold suggestion—could we bring a Noh stage to the center of the rink and construct it there?”

 

— But isn’t it a bit much to put something like that on the ice, especially right before the skating performance?

“Yes, it was a massive undertaking. At first, we thought maybe we could mount the stage on top of the ice resurfacing machine, like a campaign van—that way it wouldn’t damage the ice and the stage could still function. Since a resurfacer moves easily, that seemed doable. But in the end, we went with a much more primitive method: we jacked up the stage and manually carried and set it in place.”

 

What is "MANSAI Bolero"?

 

The program was first performed by Mansai Nomura in 2011 at the Setagaya Public Theatre in Tokyo. It is a solo dance centered around Ravel’s Boléro and the Kyogen piece Sanbasō.

 

For this performance, a stage was set at the center of the rink. Mansai performed on the stage, while Yuzuru Hanyu and the other skaters performed on the ice surrounding it.

 

MANSAI Bolero is scheduled to be performed by Nomura at the “Three Generations of Kyogen Celebration: Grand Kyogen Festival 2025” on April 26, 2025, at Festival Hall in Osaka.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu as a Shikigami. The inevitable production was conceived during rehearsals.

 

— What were the dimensions of the Noh stage?

“They built it as a square, three ken (about 5.4 meters) on each side. For me, the significance lies more with Boléro, and I thought it would make more sense to place that performance later, considering the overall concept of the show. However, due to the need for ice resurfacing, it ended up being placed at the end of the first part. So, we placed this strange, foreign object — a stage — right in the center of the skating rink, resurfaced the ice afterward, and then started the second part with SEIMEI.

 

For SEIMEI, I didn’t like the idea of just staying far away on the rink and chanting spells from a distance, so I suggested, ‘What if I walk toward the audience seating area?’ In other words, I felt it wouldn’t be interesting if everything stayed confined to just the northern end of the rink. Even though the piece SEIMEI was inspired by my film Onmyoji, it’s also a hugely important program for Hanyu, who won a gold medal with it, so I didn’t want to impose too much. So then the question became: how do we bridge the time while Hanyu is resting? At that point, there’s no point in just fluttering around on the far north side.

 

So is the relationship between the two of them like two Abe no Seimei? There is the idea that the Seimei are swapped, but I think I said, 'Why not have Hanyu become a Shikigami?' Because he himself believes himself to be Seimei, I think I was being a little more reserved when I said it (laughs)."

 

“To turn Hanyu into a shikigami-like figure, I first drop a hitokata (a doll used in rituals). That is to say, everything that follows is within my spell — within my magical control. That’s the world of Onmyoji: you show this magical realm, and in the end, it all returns to just a paper doll.

Eventually, Hanyu’s heart began to soften,” (laughs) “At first, while I was performing, if Hanyu was just wandering around aimlessly, the audience wouldn’t know what to focus on. So in the end, we decided that he would kneel in the middle. I didn't directly say he was a hitokata or a shikigami, but I decided during rehearsal that I would summon him with a spell. That was when the line ‘Shutsugen Yuzuru Hanyu! Kyūkyū nyoritsuryō!’ (Appear, Yuzuru Hanyu! By the order of my spell!) came about.

 

— When was that rehearsal?

The day before or two days before opening night. When I breathed life into the doll, Hanyu appeared. I deliberately gave voice to that moment as ‘Shutsugen Yuzuru Hanyu.’ It naturally fit within the idea that he was something summoned from within a spell. That’s what you’d expect from a gold medalist — he just made it work.

 

— “Did the line ‘Shutsugen Yuzuru Hanyu’ (‘Appear, Yuzuru Hanyu’) come from a clear intention on your part to say it during the performance, or did it just sort of come out during rehearsal?”

“Well, I’m not an actual onmyoji in daily life,” (laughs) “so it’s not something that would just come out naturally. I deliberately chose to say it. I was watching the rehearsal footage and thought, ‘If he’s going to appear like this, then it should be done properly — like “Shutsugen Yuzuru Hanyu! Kyūkyū nyoritsuryō!” followed by a dramatic “ta-da!” — like he’s emerging from smoke.’ Since I come from the world of theater, I fundamentally follow a sense of narrative. I think maybe people haven’t noticed even now, but from my perspective, the pose he strikes at the end is like that of a (paper) doll.”

 

— It’s fate, isn’t it?

“It just turned out that way inevitably.”

 

“I Wanted to Recreate the Final Duel Scene with Hiroyuki Sanada from the Film Onmyoji”

 

— In the SEIMEI program, when you circled the outer edge of the rink, symbols of the Four Divine Beasts (shishin — the Azure Dragon of the East, the White Tiger of the West, the Vermilion Bird of the South, and the Black Tortoise of the North) were projected onto the ice, and finally, a pentagram appeared. Was including the Four Gods also your idea?

"I think that’s how it was.  When I suggested circling the outer edge, I also mentioned the idea of forming a barrier (kekkai) and ending with the appearance of the pentagram. I was trying to recreate the final scene from the film Onmyoji, where I faced off against Hiroyuki Sanada.
So I designed the performance so that as I moved around the rink, I would symbolically place the barrier points one by one, and in the end, the pentagram would be completed.”

 

“The original inspiration for SEIMEI is the movie, after all. And in my film, the ending was completely improvised — even the sound was added afterward. So there was no fixed choreography tied to specific points in the melody. Once we decided to include the Four Gods, more things fell into place. We built a small protruding stage along the outer edge of the rink.

The smoke effects were suggested by the special effects team. They said the smoke could help eliminate the time lag between when I’m waiting and when I begin the performance, so it would make the transition seamless.

The staff really supported me in those ways. Even for Boléro, when I asked, ‘Should we make it snow?’, we thought falling paper might interfere with the skating since it would accumulate on the ice. But then they said, ‘We can use bubble foam instead.’”

 

A Different Relationship Between the Two in Each Program — In MANSAI Bolero, Hanyu incorporated my movements as a physical embodiment of me.

 

— The major theme of "MANSAI Bolero" is the cycle of the four seasons and a human lifetime. Hanyu’s costume had long, kimono-like sleeves, and at moments, the colors looked like rice ears bathed in sunlight. Aside from the overall staging, did you have specific imagery in mind for individual parts of the performance?

"The concept of spring, summer, autumn, and winter was part of the original MANSAI Bolero, so the question was: what kind of relationship should I have with Hanyu this time? In SEIMEI, the relationship is that of Seimei and a shikigami — one who commands and one who is commanded. I thought, let’s not make it the same kind of relationship.

 

In this piece, I myself represent a god, and my costume is that of a phoenix. I visit people, and as a mythical bird of immortality, I bring them encouragement. I also conveyed the image of ‘watching from the sky.’ In that sense, this time, I could move freely. I told the skaters, including Shae-Lynn Bourne, that I wanted them to ‘die’ (within the performance). It might be a shock for those who actually experienced the earthquake disaster, but in the sense of rebirth from death, I wanted them to collapse and be lying dead. We discussed: how long can you remain lying on the ice? How can you physically manage to stay down? And, well, since that would be too emotionally painful if shown directly, we used black cloaks. The black and gray costumes symbolized death, and that worked well.”

 

“Since I can’t come down from the stage, Hanyu became the figure who directly engages with the people. I may have said things like: imagine the phoenix descending, or a divine messenger appearing. (Hanyu’s costume) is the manifestation of my costume, and in a sense, he is my alter ego. In Boléro, I think Hanyu-san plays the role of a ‘messenger,’ and he meets people as an alter ego. While I stuck to my set choreography, Hanyu and the rest worked over the three days of rehearsals to develop the performance, and I believe Hanyu incorporated my movements as a physical extension of me.”

 

“In the scene where we first encounter each other, I clap my hands — ‘pan!’ — and we mirror each other like a reflection. After I stomp out a rhythm with my foot, we step in sync with each other from the upper and lower stage positions. Hanyu said, ‘I can match you here,’ so he adjusted accordingly. In the spinning sequence — turning round and round and round — it was clear that he drew a lot of inspiration from the ending of the Onmyoji film. He imitated quite a bit. He must have watched it a lot. I was surprised by how much more he knew about Onmyoji than I did. It felt like he had watched it so many times it was practically worn out.

 

What was interesting was SEIMEI. It was like the opposite of Boléro. Since he’s done it many times, he has a sense of ease, but on my side, I was doing it while thinking through all kinds of things. Hanyu told me, ‘It’s okay to slow down the tempo on “Kyūkyū nyo-ritsu-ryō.” That way, it’s closer to the voice in the movie.’ He listens so carefully. On my side, I was still in the phase of trying to memorize the steps: what’s next, where do I need to dash to in how many seconds… so I wasn’t yet fully calm, but he was already saying things like that. I thought, ‘This guy must have been listening to my voice all along.”

 

I felt 'the heavens' as the skaters gracefully circled around the Noh stage.

 

— Did you share the direction and the storytelling aspects with Shae-Lynn Bourne, who choreographed the skaters for MANSAI Bolero?

"When we had the first remote meeting, I showed her my solo, and I mentioned that within it, there are the four seasons, the human lifespan, and themes of lamentation. I talked about the idea of the heavenly realm and the earthly realm, and also conveyed that I wanted people to fall and then be reborn, symbolizing death and resurrection. There was a request from Hanyu's side to make him a slightly different presence. When all six skaters were together, it was Shae-Lynn Bourne’s choreography, but when Hanyu skated alone, I think he choreographed that part himself."

 

— Did you ask the skaters to synchronize with your movements in the same way?

“This was my first time too, so I took the approach of matching wherever I could. For example, when everyone suddenly forms a wedge formation and moves forward, I thought maybe I could push from behind to support them — so I adjusted my movements for that. When I’m being still, I wanted them to be moving, and when it’s my moment to stand out, I wanted them to draw their focus inward instead. It gradually came together into something where, as if I were directly exchanging energy between the heavens and the earthly realm, I would also send energy to Satoko Miyahara on the east side, then the west side, north side — and together we would bring it all to the ending.”

 

"What felt the best, and this is really something you could never do on the ground, was when, as I circled around the stage, everyone else glided all the way around the Noh stage too. That’s something only ice skating can achieve. Ordinary people can’t run at such speed, but the skaters moved gracefully, gliding along, and it was such a wonderful feeling to watch. It really felt like, just as a god moves time forward, people were also sweeping forward in great spirals. What seemed to resonate with everyone was that, even though there was a distinction between the heavenly realm and the earthly realm, everything on the rink connected in a very effective way."

 

The surprising harmony between figure skating and Noh and Kyogen.

 

— Watching, I felt that figure skating and Noh and Kyogen were similar.

"The reason they harmonize so well is because, while the rink isn't a perfect square, it still has four sides. And the Noh stage is square. Above all, both emphasize the movement of the feet. In other words, it’s about how you move. In Noh and Kyogen, we show everything with our feet, and in figure skating, it’s the steps, which match the rhythm. But figure skating goes beyond the rhythm, drifting away from it, and skates in a way that transcends rhythm. Also, figure skating is a sport where you draw shapes. We, too, from a bird's-eye view, draw circles or semicircles, make straight lines, curves, and stop after spinning—these are the basics. So I think it was only natural that Hanyu-san became very interested in our movements. As a Japanese person, perhaps. If you come from a ballet background, it might all feel unrelated, but through this experience, I came to see how similar they really are. The beauty of the hand movements, the spinning and stopping, and the way the costume flows. Using a costume with sleeves like that in Bolero — I get the sense that he must really like that kind of thing, or rather, he must have studied a lot, including how to make the wind catch and flow through it."

 

 

[yuzurujenn]

*machine translation, inaccuracies exist*

 

2025.04.30

 

Source: https://deepedgeplus.kyodonews.jp/column/figureskating-art-cafe/105555/

 

[Part 2] Mansai Nomura on the Changes Over Ten Years — The loneliness of his fellow ‘Professional Yuzuru Hanyu,’ Who Is Pushing Ahead Toward What Only He Can Do

 

Nomura Mansai and Hanyu Yuzuru had a conversation 10 years ago. At that time, Mansai told Hanyu about the awareness that an artist should have, and the relationship between sound and the body. As a Kyogen performer, Mansai continues to challenge himself to express himself beyond genres, and has called himself "Professional Nomura Mansai." This time, he described Hanyu, who stands between athlete and artist as a professional, as "Professional Hanyu Yuzuru," calling him a comrade. He took part in the ice show "notte stellata," and praised him, saying, "I was deeply moved by the way he does things that only he can do in such a wonderful way."

 

Spoiler

Mansai teaches us not to match the music, but to wear the music.

 

—Ten years ago, when you had a conversation with Hanyu-san, you mentioned that he hadn’t yet fully put what was inside him into words. But at the press conference on the first day of notte stellata, you said that this time, it had taken form. When specifically did you feel that?

"He talks much more now. Back then, he was still an athlete, around 20 years old, spending all his time training. There was no need to verbalize anything, and before even thinking about putting things into words, the sport is about gaining points. What matters is whether you can do the technique or not.

 

But after turning professional and becoming an artist, the question became: what is it that he wants to express? When I met him ten years ago, I meant to tell him: don’t just perform without purpose. Don’t just raise your hand. If you raise it with the idea that heaven lies in that direction, or the earth, then an inevitable truth will be born from that intention. If you act with purpose, then necessity follows. I said something like that to him, and he realized it. He gained that sense of inevitability. And I also told him: 'Wrap yourself in sound. Don’t just match the music.' Let the sound wrap around you, and let your body become the expression of that music — I believe that’s what I told him."

 

"And then, knowing when to subtract — for example, deliberately not making a sound when you jump, and then creating a loud impact only at the end — or using the opposite direction on purpose. These are basics of performance, or rather, fundamentals of staging. They’re not really necessary for someone who only thinks about earning points. There’s no time to verbalize things, and even if you do put them into words, it’s meaningless if you can’t actually do it. But conversely, by verbalizing and having a sense of purpose, it’s no longer just a spin that somehow happened — it becomes something inevitable. You begin to move in sync with the sound naturally. It’s not about thinking, ‘I’ll perform here’ or ‘I’ll get points here,’ but rather, if you're wrapped in the music, you’ll naturally take flight.”

 

"He was already thinking that way from the beginning, which is why he pieces music together with incredible calculation. By carefully thinking through the structure — where to insert steps, where to let it flow — he creates a more effective performance. You mustn't repeat the same thing three times. There should be contrast: strong and weak, high and low, large and small. I intended to convey, implicitly, that you need a variety of combinations.

 

Watching SEIMEI, I could tell he had restructured it with those ideas in mind. And the person who stood before me 10 years later had developed that kind of mindset. To express something, you have to have the words to communicate your vision — otherwise the team around you can’t move with you. You have to show your purpose, you have to have a purpose. It’s easy to say in words, but over ten years, he really came to embody that awareness."

 

The balance between the Noh stage, its central axis, and the surrounding movements of figure skating.

 

—Mansai-san mentioned that in classical performing arts, where the lighting is limited, one must be able to create their own spotlight, to be the kind of person who can shine light on themselves. Is that something Hanyu embodies?

"There’s a spotlight (at ice shows), you know (laughs). But because he’s the kind of person who naturally draws it, everyone inevitably looks at Hanyu. I’ll never forget how, during ‘Bolero,’ even though everyone had been watching me up until that point, the moment Hanyu appeared, all eyes turned to him. At first, it was just me on stage, but then Hanyu came out, and everyone's heads turned towards him, curious about what kind of costume he was wearing. It made me laugh."

 

—I wanted to see how your rhythm—your moments of rushing across the Noh stage, or the quick changes in tempo—would blend with the rhythm of skating, but it was hard to watch both.

"I kind of understand that when everyone moves fast, the eye goes to the slower movements. When everyone is moving quickly, it’s hard to keep up, so perhaps they focus more on the center."

 

—When there’s a slower person in the middle of fast movements, that becomes the center of gravity or axis, doesn’t it?

"That’s something already established in Bon Odori (traditional Japanese dance). The reason I placed the Noh stage at the center is because it serves as the central axis. It’s meant to create a centripetal force. So when everyone moves in circles around it, the thing at the center gains strength — and that’s exactly the balance with ice skating. When I thought about figure skating as a kind of mathematical centripetal force, I also considered that if you drift too far to the north side, you’d end up out of view."

 

The loneliness and praise that only those who transcend boundaries as performers can understand.

 

—Mansai-san, you referred to Yuzuru Hanyu as "Professional Yuzuru Hanyu." You yourself also call yourself "Professional Mansai Nomura," but there seems to be a sense of solitude in your boundaryless, non-categorized activities. Wouldn't that be a difficult position for someone who expresses themselves?

"Yes, that's exactly it. "Professional Mansai Nomura" means there are things that only I can do. I'm a kyogen actor, but I don't just limit myself to kyogen. However, it's very lonely. For example, can a kyogen critic evaluate this "Bolero"? Or can an ice skating critic evaluate this "Bolero"? You know? It doesn't matter if it's enjoyable, but when it's divided into specific fields, for someone who crosses genres, it's rare to find someone who can evaluate all of Mansai Nomura as a whole."

 

"At that moment, Hanyu himself was saying, ‘I don’t use the word retirement as an athlete,’ and I thought, once again, this is someone who’s very careful with words. He was kind of mumbling his way through, wasn’t he? When you ask whether he’s fully come to terms with it, it feels like maybe he hasn’t — but maybe there’s no need for him to. That, in itself, is what it means to pursue something only Yuzuru Hanyu can do. He’s an athlete, but there might be people who wouldn’t call him just an athlete. If you call him an artist, he might not see himself as just an artist either. In the same way, even if I say I’m an actor, people would call me a kyogen performer. In that sense, he’s very solitary. But he has high aspirations, and I believe there are things only he can do. That’s why I gave him the name ‘Professional Yuzuru Hanyu.’ Watching him in 'notte stellata,' I was deeply moved by the way he’s doing something that only he can do, and doing it beautifully."

 

"That moment was truly something only Yuzuru Hanyu could do, and there’s no greater level of conviction than his. That’s wonderful. I was also very grateful for this opportunity and felt a real sense of fulfillment. I'm glad that I could do it. Of course, the support of various staff members was great, but there was also the magnetic force that is Yuzuru Hanyu. Talking with him, I felt, in a way, like a kindred spirit. His worldview, his sense of the universe, and he’s a public person, I think I said that too, but there’s a weight he carries. In that sense, he’s a comrade, a person with that kind of capacity. He’s pushing forward with things only he can do, putting his own matters aside. I’m really glad he was happy with the name 'Professional Yuzuru Hanyu.' Right now, he's truly 'Professional Yuzuru Hanyu.' I felt that he’s someone I can connect with on that level of awareness."

 

Two 'otherworldly' individuals connected to the universe... 'I guess we have similar ways of thinking.'

 

― It was so interesting that I couldn't believe it was completed in such a short time.

"Apparently, he watched my 'Boléro' a lot. He was saying things like, 'That part was pretty off-beat, wasn’t it?' (laughs). I also do a lot of improvisation, so he definitely watched it more closely than I did. He’s quick to pick up on what I’m trying to do, or maybe we have similar ways of thinking. When he started working with choreographer MIKIKO, I got a LINE message saying, 'While creating with Hanyu-kun, I kept thinking of you, Mansai-san. You both are so connected to “the universe.” I guess I’m a little 'otherworldly' too, in a way. Well, isn’t that what an Onmyoji is? Onmyoji are people who are connected to the universe. With ‘Bolero’ too, a normal person might wonder, ‘What does it mean to become a god?’ But in our line of work, we put on a mask and embody that moment of transforming into a god — like in the kyōgen piece ‘Sanbasō.’ And Hanyu is someone who’s deeply interested in that, who resonates with it, who’s inspired by it.”

 

"He certainly has that 'divine' quality in him. Otherwise, he couldn’t pull off such a grand production. It’s his sense of mission and that almost divine quality that allows him to express so much to others. We shared a kind of deep, unspoken sympathy, which is why everything came together so quickly in just a few days. I think it’s because he had studied it well. At the core of it all, the movements of figure skating and Noh are never far apart. The rhythm, the flow, the beats—sometimes the concept of beats even disappears. It’s like surrendering to the universe. When a human walks, you hear footsteps, but the moment you leap into the air, that rhythm suddenly disappears. I think the feelings and energy inside you change depending on whether you're just gliding or flying into space. I said that 10 years ago, so I thought, 'Let’s start with Tenchijin (Heaven, Earth, and Man).' For core fans, it's like a review of my teachings. I thought they would be happy with that, too (laughs)."

 

 

Reporter Profile
Rui Higashi, joined in 2009. From Ishikawa Prefecture. After working at the Nagasaki Bureau and the Sendai Editorial Department, she became responsible for traditional performing arts in the Culture Department starting in 2023. Her favorite skaters include Tessa Virtue & Scott Moir, and Johnny Weir.

 

[yuzurujenn]

*machine translation, inaccuracies exist*

 

2025.04.26

 

Source: <private> From a flyer handed out during a Mansai Bolero performance (Three Generations of Kyogen Celebration: Grand Kyogen Festival 2025)

 

"MANSAI Bolero" NTT Sound XR Narration

 

For today's final performance, "MANSAI Bolero," 100 people who applied in advance will be selected by lottery to experience a special sound production that utilizes the Sound XR technology and PSZ technology developed by the NTT Computer & Data Science Laboratories. While watching the stage, you will experience Mansai's special audio commentary that is integrated with the music in the venue.

 

The contents are as follows.

 

Spoiler

Like seeds that ripened in autumn, overcoming the harsh winter and sensing spring to sprout —that which has once died is moistened, and something dwells within.

The snow melts, pulsation begins, wandering in the underworld.

 

From the exit of the underworld, looking down upon the surface world, one is surprised by its devastation.

 

Weeping over that devastation, thinking of all living things, swearing to rebuild.

 

Paying respect to the gods of the universe, offering prayers.

 

The god opens the rock cave door, descends to the world, and places protective barriers in the four directions.

 

At last, the divine ritual begins.

The snowmelt flows, becoming a waterfall.

 

Playing with the water, purifying the surroundings.

 

Spring arrives, and the phoenix spreads its wings in celebration.

 

With budding, flowering, blooming spring — celebrating that rebirth, rejoicing and admiring the fresh greenery.

 

Following the spiral of life, praying for rain to gain new life.

 

The heavenly realm responds, and in the long, torrential rain, reflecting one’s own figure on the water’s surface.

 

As the rainy season passes, gaining strength from the overflowing sun, stomping on the earth to awaken the spirits.

 

Building embankments, gathering the renewed energies of heaven, earth, and man, pouring them in, and firming the ground.

 

In the arising storm, at times struggling and suffering, confronting it fiercely.

 

Even the weak-willed are subject to trials. They struggle and fight to save themselves.

 

Before long, the time becomes autumn, and the coloring season emits the last brilliance of life, bearing fruit.

 

The new life that has borne fruit opens the door to the next stage.

 

They reach a moment of ecstasy and move vibrantly into another world.

 

 

 

JP transcript:

Spoiler

「MANSAI ボレロ」 NTT 音響 XR ナレーション

本日の最終演目 『MANSAI ボレロ』 では、事前にお申込みいただいたお客様の中から抽選で当選された100名様に NTT コンピュータ&データサイエンス研究所が開発した音響 XR 技術とPSZ技術を活用した特別な音響演出を体験いただきます。 舞台を観ながら会場の音楽と一体化した萬斎の特別音声解説を体験いただきます。 内容は下記の通りです。

 

秋に実った種子が厳しい冬を越えて、春を感じて発芽するように、一度死せるものは潤い、 何かが宿る。

雪は溶け、脈動が起こり、 冥界に彷徨う。

冥界の出口から現世の地上を見下ろして、その惨状に驚く。

その惨状に咽び泣き、 生きとし生けるものを思い、復興を誓う。

宇宙の神に礼を尽くし、 祈りを捧げる。

岩戸を開き、現世に降り立ち、四方に結界を張る神。

いよいよ神事の始まり 雪解けの水は流れ、 滝となる。

水と戯れ、辺りを清める。

春が到来し、 鳳凰の羽を広げ 寿ぐ。

芽吹き花咲き開く春 その再生を寿ぎ、 新緑を祝い愛でる。

生命の螺旋を辿り、 新たなる命を得るために雨乞いをする。

天上界は応え、激しい長雨に、己の姿を水面に映す。

梅雨も明け、みなぎる太陽に力を得、地を踏みしめ精霊を起こす。

畔を作り、天地人の新たな気を集めて注ぎ、地を踏み固める。

吹きおこる嵐に、 時にもがき苦しみ、激しく対峙する。

試練は弱気者にも及ぶ。 それを救おうともがき、戦う。

いつしか頃は秋となり、 色づく季節は命の最後の輝きを放って結実する。

実を結んだ新たな生命は、次なるステージへの扉を開く。

恍惚の時を迎え、躍動して別世界へ。

 

[Wintek]

*machine translation, inaccuracies exist*

(Endnotes added for clarity and context)

 

2025.04.21

 

Source: https://deepedgeplus.kyodonews.jp/column/figureskating-art-cafe/105448/ 

Archive:
https://web.archive.org/web/20250504151359/https://deepedgeplus.kyodonews.jp/column/figureskating-art-cafe/105448/

 

[Part 1] Rhythm and Pulse, Step and Flow^[1] — The Deep Connection Between Noh Kyōgen and Figure Skating: Behind the Scenes of the Ice Show Where Expression Crossed Boundaries — Yuzuru Hanyu × Mansai Nomura

Spoiler

By 東るい

 

Yuzuru Hanyu, who hails from Sendai City, collaborated with kyōgen performer Mansai Nomura in the memorial ice show notte stellata, held 14 years after the Great East Japan Earthquake. The venue was Sekisui Heim Super Arena in Rifu Town, Miyagi Prefecture, which had been used as a temporary morgue immediately after the disaster. Nomura, known for playing Abe no Seimei in the film Onmyoji^[2], and Hanyu, who used “SEIMEI” as his free program at the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics — both artists crossing genres — created an unexpected but profound resonance between figure skating and Noh Kyōgen. A journalist specializing in traditional performing arts spoke to Nomura about what went on behind the scenes. (Interview by Rui Higashi)

 

In this first of two parts, we focus on how Hanyu came to perform the role of a shikigami — a spirit servant of the onmyōji — and the order of the pieces “MANSAI Boléro” and “SEIMEI,” including behind-the-scenes discussions and rehearsals.

What is notte stellata?

This is the program Yuzuru Hanyu performed as the finale of the exhibition gala at the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics, and he served as the show’s lead performer. The title means “star-filled sky” in Italian. Hanyu, who experienced the earthquake in his hometown of Sendai on March 11, 2011, said he saw a “light of hope” in the starlit sky during the blackout. The show began in 2023, and he has since shared the stage with Olympic gymnastics gold medalist Kōhei Uchimura and actor Mao Daichi, among others.

 

What can be done closer to the audience? Mansai proposes placing a Noh stage on the ice

 

— This time, you tackled two pieces: “MANSAI Boléro” and “SEIMEI.” “MANSAI Boléro” was created and presented in response to the Great East Japan Earthquake, with a message of mourning and recovery. From the beginning, was the idea to include both pieces in the show?

“I believe the idea to perform SEIMEI came first. When we were discussing what to perform in Rifu Town (Miyagi Prefecture), I was asked what else we should include along with SEIMEI. I said, ‘If it’s at a place like that, I would very much like to perform Boléro.’ So the idea for Boléro was my suggestion.”

 

— In Hanyu’s media interview after opening night (March 7), he mentioned that when you arrived in Miyagi, you said something like, “So, what shall we do?” suggesting things weren’t finalized yet.

 

“When it comes to MANSAI Boléro, my part was already fully formed. So when I said, ‘What shall we do?’ I meant the collaboration with the skating side. First of all, I threw out a bunch of wild ideas. Looking at past notte stellata collaborations, like with Kōhei Uchimura, they performed side by side. But the northern side of the rink had to be closed off quite a bit, leaving only that space available. That side always gets shut down. It works for TV, but from the audience’s perspective, it felt like the performance was happening far away. So I proposed: can we do something closer to the audience?

 

“For MANSAI Boléro, I made a bold proposal — could we place a Noh stage in the center of the rink? Build it right there?

 

“It’s a pretty massive request, to put something like that on the ice right before skating. At first, I thought, maybe we could place a stage on top of an ice resurfacing machine — like a campaign vehicle — so it wouldn’t damage the ice and we could still have a functioning stage. If it were on a resurfacer, you could move it in and out easily. But in the end, we jacked up the stage and physically carried and set it up — a very primitive approach, really.”

What Is "MANSAI Boléro"?

"MANSAI Boléro" is a program first performed by Mansai Nomura in 2011 at the Setagaya Public Theatre in Tokyo. It is a solo performance that fuses Ravel’s ballet music Boléro with the traditional Kyogen piece Sanbasō.^[3] This time, a stage was placed at the center of the ice rink, where Nomura performed, while Yuzuru Hanyu and the other skaters performed around it on the ice.

"MANSAI Boléro" is scheduled to be performed again by Nomura on April 26, 2025, at Festival Hall in Osaka, during the event “Kyogen Sandai: Grand Festival Kyogen Performance 2025.”

 

Turning Yuzuru Hanyu into a Shikigami — An Inevitable[4] Staging Born in Rehearsal

 

— What were the stage dimensions?

 

 “We had it made three ken (roughly 5.4 meters) square. For me, the meaning lies more in Boléro, and given the original concept of the show, I thought it would be better to place that part (Boléro) later in the program. However, due to ice resurfacing needs, it ended up being the last piece of the first half. So, we put this strange, foreign object right in the middle of the skating rink, resurfaced the ice afterward, and started the second half with SEIMEI.”

 

“Rather than having ‘SEIMEI’ be a piece where I stand far away on the rink and chant spells from a distance, I suggested walking toward the audience instead. I thought, if I just stay confined to the north side of the rink, it wouldn’t be very interesting. Even though ‘SEIMEI’ was inspired by my movie Onmyoji, it's a deeply important program for Hanyu-san, who won a gold medal with it, so it's not my place to make presumptuous suggestions. But then we were like, ‘So how do we bridge the moment when Hanyu-san is offstage resting?’ Just doing something subtle on the north side wouldn’t be compelling.”

 

“So we asked ourselves: are we two different versions of Abe no Seimei? Could Seimei be switching identities? But at one point, I think I said, ‘How about we make Hanyu-san into a shikigami?’ (laughs) Though I probably said it a bit more reservedly. Because in his mind, he's clearly Seimei.”

 

“To make Hanyu-san shikigami-like, I decided that I would first drop a hitokata doll (a human-shaped paper effigy). In other words, everything was within the bounds of my spell. The Onmyoji world is one where what you see is all magic, and it ultimately returns to paper. Gradually, Hanyu-san's heart started to melt into it too (laughs). At first, if he were just aimlessly moving around while I was performing, people wouldn’t know what to focus on. So in the end, we decided that he should kneel partway through. We didn’t state outright that he was a (paper) doll or a shikigami, but in rehearsal, I made up my mind to summon him and call him forth with a spell. The line ‘Shutsugen Hanyu Yuzuru – kyūkyū nyo ritsuryō!’ (Appear, Yuzuru Hanyu. Obey my command!) came from rehearsal.”

 

— When was the rehearsal?

 

 “The day before the first performance, or maybe two days before. When I breathed on the hitokata, Hanyu-san would appear. I purposely verbalized it as ‘Shutsugen Hanyu Yuzuru’ — it just naturally fit with the idea that he exists within the realm of magic. After all, he’s a gold medalist.”

 

— Did the line “Shutsugen Hanyu Yuzuru” come to you spontaneously during rehearsal, or was it planned?

 “I mean, I’m not an onmyoji in daily life (laughs), so it’s not something that would just pop out on its own. I said it intentionally. I had been watching rehearsal footage, and thought, ‘If he’s going to appear like this, I should say it properly — “Shutsugen Hanyu Yuzuru, kyūkyū nyo ritsuryō!”’ and then “Ta-dah!” out of a puff of smoke. I’m from the theater world, so I naturally follow a storyline. He may not have realized it, but his final pose at the end — from my perspective — was that of a hitokata doll.”

 

— It feels like destiny.

 

 “It ended up that way inevitably[4].”

 

Recreating the Final Scene of the Onmyoji Film Where I Duel with Hiroyuki Sanada

 

— During SEIMEI, you circled the edge of the rink, and the four directional guardian beasts — Seiryū (Azure Dragon of the East), Byakko (White Tiger of the West), Suzaku (Vermilion Bird of the South), and Genbu (Black Tortoise of the North) — were projected onto the ice, culminating in a pentagram. Was including the Four Gods your idea too?

 

 “I believe so. When I decided to walk around the outside of the rink, I thought, ‘Let’s set up a barrier and finish with a pentagram.’ I was trying to recreate the final battle scene in the Onmyoji movie where I face off against Hiroyuki Sanada. I think I was the one who came up with that staging — as I walked around the perimeter, I laid down each point of the barrier, and finally the pentagram emerged.”

 

“The origin of SEIMEI is, after all, the movie. And even the ending of my film was all improvised — the music was added later. So none of it was fixed in advance, like ‘do this at this musical moment.’ Once we decided to place the four gods, various elements began to take shape, and we created small stages, like protruding navels, outside the rink. The stage directors came up with the idea to use smoke as a special effect. The smoke helped eliminate the time lag; it compensated for the gap between (Mansai-san) waiting and beginning performing. That's how the staff supported us. The same thing happened with Bolero. We asked if it was possible to have snow falling. We didn't think we could use confetti because the paper would cover the rink and interfere with the skating. They said, ‘we can use foam.’”

 

The relationship between the two changes depending on the program—In MANSAI Bolero, “As the manifest body, Hanyu-san incorporated my forms”

 

—One of the major themes of MANSAI Bolero is the cycle of the four seasons and human life. Hanyu-san's costume had long sleeves resembling a kimono, and at times the colors looked like rice ears glistening in the sun. Besides the overall direction, did you have specific imagery for each part?

 

"The concept of the four seasons was originally in MANSAI Bolero, so the question became, what kind of relationship should I have with Hanyu-kun this time? In SEIMEI, the dynamic between Seimei and the shikigami is one of command—someone who uses and someone who is used. I thought we shouldn't have the same kind of hierarchical relationship this time. I myself am a god, and my costume is that of a phoenix. I visit people and encourage them, like a divine bird. I also conveyed the image of ‘watching from the sky.’ In that sense, I am free to move around."

"To the skaters, including Shae-Lynn Bourne, I actually said, 'I want you to die (within the performance).' It might be shocking to those who actually experienced the earthquake, but in terms of the theme of rebirth from death, I wanted them to collapse and die (symbolically). We discussed things like, 'How long can you lie collapsed on the ice?' and 'What’s the best way to fall and stay down?' It would’ve been too harsh to depict this directly, so we went with black cloaks. The black and gray costumes did a good job symbolizing death."

 

"Since I can't step down from the stage, Hanyu-san becomes the one who interacts directly with humans. He appears like a firebird or a divine messenger—a phoenix. His costume represents a manifest version of mine, a kind of avatar. In Bolero, I do think Hanyu-san serves as a ‘messenger,’ but he meets people as my counterpart. While I was doing my fixed parts, Hanyu-san and the others refined their movements over the three days of rehearsal, and as my manifest form, he began incorporating my stylistic forms."

 

"In the part of the performance where I first meet him, there's a moment with a ‘clap,’ creating a mirrored structure. Then there’s a step sequence after we both stamp our feet, where we synchronize vertically. Hanyu-san said, 'I can match you here,’ so we coordinated. Like when we spin—round and round and round and round. Watching it, I felt he was really inspired by the ending of the Onmyoji film. He copied it quite a bit. He must have watched it countless times. I was surprised at how much more knowledgeable he was about Onmyoji than I am. It felt like he'd worn out his copy from rewatching it so many times."

 

"One interesting thing was SEIMEI. Unlike Bolero, the roles were reversed—he had performed it many times before and was confident, whereas I had to think through each step. Hanyu-san said, ‘You can slow down the tempo for “Kyukyu nyoritsu ryo.” That would be closer to the voice from the film.’ I realized how closely he had been listening. While I was still unsettled, trying to remember the sequence—‘What comes next? How many seconds do I have to descend and move there?’—he was already saying things like that. I thought, ‘This person must have been listening to my voice all along.’”

 

Skaters gracefully circling the Noh stage evoked the "heavens"

 

—Did you and Shae-Lynn Bourne, who choreographed the skating for MANSAI Bolero, discuss things like direction or narrative themes?

 

“When we first met remotely, I showed her my solo performance. I talked about how it included the four seasons, the span of a human life, grief, and so on. I also explained the idea of the heavens and the earth, the concept of dying within the performance, people falling, and then being reborn. There was also a request from Hanyu-san’s side: they wanted to portray him as a slightly different kind of existence. When all six skaters performed together, that was Shae-Lynn Bourne’s choreography. But when Hanyu-san skated solo, I believe he choreographed that himself.”

 

—Was it Mansai-san who suggested that you match the choreography at the same points with the skaters?

 

 “Since it was my first time too, I approached it with the mindset of, ‘Let’s match things where we can.’ For example, when everyone suddenly rushes forward in a wedge formation, I thought maybe I could help push them from behind. I changed my own choreography accordingly. When I’m being quiet, I want others to be moving, and when it’s my moment to shine, I’d rather they concentrate inward instead. It was as if I was directly communicating with the earthly world from heaven. I even sent energy toward Satoko Miyahara of the East Side, West Side, and North Side, to bring it all to a close.”

 

“The part that felt the best, and this is truly something you can’t do on a regular stage, was when I circled around the entire stage and everyone else glided around the nō stage along with me. That’s really something unique to figure skating. Normally, people don’t run around with such force, but they did it so gracefully—just gliding with a smooth ‘shoo’ sound. It felt really wonderful. It was exactly like how a god might move time forward, and people follow with a sweeping, spiraling motion. What people seemed to appreciate most was how, even though we represented the heavenly and earthly realms as separate, they still connected. I feel like that part came together really well.”

 

The harmony between figure skating and Noh-Kyogen

 

—Watching it, I felt that figure skating and Noh-Kyogen are quite similar.

 

“I think the reason they harmonize so well is because, while an ice rink isn’t a perfect square, it still has four sides. And the Noh stage is a square. Above all, both forms emphasize what happens at your feet—how you move. In our case, we express ourselves with our footwork while the rest of the body stays still. For figure skating, that would be the steps. There are moments when those steps align with rhythm, and moments when, because of the gliding, the movement transcends rhythm—drifting apart from it. Plus, figure skating is originally a sport where you draw shapes. From a bird’s-eye view, we also draw circles, half-circles, straight lines, curves, spin and stop—and those are the fundamentals. I think it was inevitable (hitsuzen[4]) that Hanyu-san would be deeply interested in our movements. As a Japanese person, especially. If you begin with a ballet foundation, it might seem unrelated.^[5] But having actually done this project, I now think the two are very similar. The expressive movements of the hands, the beauty of spinning and stopping, the way the costume flows—he even used sleeves like that in Bolero, right? I feel like he really loves that kind of thing, including catching the wind in the costume. I think he must have studied an incredible amount.”

 

NOTES

 

[1] The title includes parallels not well captured by direct translation: Rhythm (in figure skating) and Haku (in Noh/Kyōgen), Steps (in figure skating) and Hakobi (in Noh/Kyōgen). 
運び (hakobi), in Noh and traditional Japanese arts, 運び refers to how one moves from one point to another — with intention, balance, and grace. It encompasses more than just physical motion; it includes timing, emotion, breath, and even spatial awareness.
拍 (haku), beat or rhythmic unit. In music and traditional performing arts, 拍 refers to a rhythmic pulse or beat — not necessarily in the Western sense of a metronomic "tick," but more fluid and often tied to breath, movement, and timing. In Noh, 拍 includes both audible beats (from drums, chanting, etc.) and internalized, almost meditative rhythm — pauses (間 / ma) are just as important as movement. Especially in Noh, 拍 is a broader concept that includes: physical rhythm (timing of movement or music), emotional rhythm (the felt cadence of a line or gesture), and a kind of pulse, as in a living, breathing flow of energy in performance.

[2] Onmyoji (陰陽師) is a 2001 Japanese film directed byYōjirō Takita. It tells of the exploits of famed onmyōji Abe no Seimei.

[3] 三番叟 (Sanbasō), A celebratory and sacred dance in Noh and Kyōgen theater, performed to pray for peace, prosperity, and bountiful harvests. It often involves rhythmic stomping (足拍子 ashibyōshi) as a symbolic act of grounding and invoking spiritual resonance with the earth.

[4] 必然 (hitsuzen): inevitability, necessity. To convey that it wasn’t forced or decided by logic.

[5] Mansai sees a parallel in Noh and Kyōgen, where the kata (forms) are often mapped out spatially in shapes that can be understood from above (like a sort of choreographic geometry). He seems to suggest that this shape-based, ground-rooted movement resonates with traditional Japanese aesthetics, as opposed to ballet, which often emphasizes verticality, lift, and turnout — a very different physical vocabulary.

 

[Wintek]

*machine translation, inaccuracies exist*

(Endnotes added for clarity and context)

 

2025.04.30

Source: https://deepedgeplus.kyodonews.jp/column/figureskating-art-cafe/105555/

Archive: https://web.archive.org/web/20250504151332/https://deepedgeplus.kyodonews.jp/column/figureskating-art-cafe/105555/

 

2025.04.30, by 東るい

[Part 2] The Changes Nomura Mansai Felt Over 10 Years: The Solitude[1] of His Fellow, “Professional Yuzuru Hanyu,” "He is pushing forward with what only he can do"

 

It’s not about marching the music. Wear the sound, the teaching of Mansai  

 

Spoiler

—10 years ago, when you spoke with Hanyu-san, there were parts of him that couldn’t yet be put into words. But during the group interview on the opening night of notte stellata, you mentioned that those things had now taken shape. In what moments did you feel that most strongly?

 

 “He talks much more now. Back then, he was an athlete, about 20 years old, right? His life was all practice. There wasn’t a need to verbalize anything, and even before that point, in a sport where you earn points, it’s all about whether or not you can execute the elements. But when he turned professional and became a performer, the question became: what is it that you want to express?

 

When I met him ten years ago, I actually intended to tell him: don’t do things without a sense of purpose. Don’t just raise your arm aimlessly—if you raise it with the thought that the sky is in that direction, or that the earth is below, then a sense of inevitability^[2]  will naturally arise. What I meant was: do things with a purpose. And he realized that. That sense of inevitability. And then, I told him, ‘Wear the music. Don’t just match it.’ Let your body express the music as if it’s part of you. I think that’s what I said.”

 

“Also, I talked to him about subtraction. Like deliberately not making a sound when jumping, and then bringing a sharp sound only at the end. Or using the opposite direction—these are basic principles of performance, of staging. They’re not really necessary if all you care about is getting points. And there’s no time to verbalize those things anyway. Even if you put it into words, if you can’t do it, it doesn’t matter. But conversely, by verbalizing and forming a sense of purpose, it’s no longer about ‘somehow managing to turn’—it becomes inevitable. You surrender to the music, and find yourself naturally able to rotate. It’s not about thinking, ‘I’ll dance here’ or ‘I’ll land a jump here’—if you wear the music, you’ll fly naturally.”

 

“He had already been thinking that way. That’s why he constructs his music so precisely. He calculates where to insert steps, where to let things flow—he plans the structure well so that it has the most impact. I also tried to subtly convey: don’t repeat the same thing three times. Add contrast: strong and weak, high and low, big and small. Use all kinds of combinations. I could see that he reconstructed SEIMEI with that kind of mindset. And now, ten years later, here he is in front of me with that mindset. To express something, you need language. If you don't have the words to express yourself, you won't be able to motivate the staff around you. Show purpose, hold purpose. It’s easy to say it  in words, but he’s truly developed that awareness over these ten years.”

 

The Balance Between the Center Axis of the Noh Stage and the Circling Motion of Ice Skating

 

—You’ve said that performers in traditional arts, where stage lighting is restricted, must be people who can create their own spotlight—shine their own light. Is Hanyu-san that kind of person?

 “Well, in an ice show, there is a spotlight, after all. (laughs) But he’s the kind of person who naturally draws that light. Everyone ends up watching Hanyu-san.

 

I’ll never forget it—in Boléro, everyone was watching me at first. Then as soon as Hanyu-san appeared, every single person turned to him. At first I was the only one on stage, and when he entered, you could see everyone’s necks crane toward him, curious about what costume he was wearing. It was so amusing I had to laugh.”

 

—As someone who usually walks diagonally across the Noh stage with precise pacing and shifts in rhythm, how did you feel about syncing that with the rhythm of skating? I wanted to observe both, but it was difficult to take it all in.

 

 “I kind of realized that when everyone’s moving fast, the eye is naturally drawn to what’s slow. If everyone is moving frenetically—whoosh [original: pyapya pyapya], you know—you can’t keep up, so your gaze tends to settle on the center.”

 

—When someone moves slowly in the middle of fast motion, it starts to feel like that person is the center of gravity—the axis.

 

 “That’s exactly what I set up using the Bon Odori formation^[3]. The reason I placed the Noh stage in the center was because it’s the axis. To create that centripetal force. So when everyone moves around it, the one in the center gains power. That’s the relationship with figure skating. When you think of figure skating as a kind of mathematical centripetal force, there’s also the matter of visibility—if you go too far north, the audience can’t see you well.”

 

The solitude and admiration known only to boundary-crossing artists

 

—Mansai-san, you referred to Hanyu-san as “professional Yuzuru Hanyu.” You also call yourself “professional Mansai Nomura.” There seems to be a sense of solitude in your borderless, non-boundary activities. Isn’t that a painful position to be in as an artist?

 

“That’s exactly right. The phrase ‘professional Mansai Nomura’ means doing something that only that person can do. I’m a kyōgen actor, but I don’t just stick to kyōgen. Still, that kind of work is extremely lonely. Like, can a kyōgen critic even properly evaluate this ‘Bolero’? Or can a figure skating critic evaluate it either? If you just enjoy it, that’s fine—but when you get into specialties and categorization, for someone who’s crossing genres, there are very few people who can evaluate all of that and still appreciate Mansai Nomura as a whole.”

 

“And during those moments, when Hanyu-san said, ‘Athletes don’t use the word retirement,’ I thought to myself again that this is someone who really chooses his words carefully. He kind of mumbled it, you know?^[4] So when you ask whether he’s fully come to terms with it, it seems like maybe he hasn’t — but maybe he doesn’t need to. And in that very ambiguity, he’s doing something that only Yuzuru Hanyu could possibly do. You could call him a competitor, but some may argue he’s not one anymore. You could call him an artist, but some might say he isn’t exactly that either. They might say, ‘He’s a skater, right?’—just like if I say I’m an actor, they might reply, ‘But you’re a kyōgen performer, aren’t you?’ In that sense, it’s a very solitary path. But he has a lofty sense of purpose, and he’s doing something no one else can, which is why I gave him the title of ‘professional Yuzuru Hanyu.’ When I saw him again in notte stellata, I was deeply moved by how beautifully he was doing something only he could do.”

 

“That stage is something only Yuzuru Hanyu could embody—there’s no one more convincing than him. It was truly wonderful. I’m grateful he gave me the chance to be a part of it. I really felt the impact, and I’m glad I did it. Of course, many staff members were there to support it, but Yuzuru Hanyu has a kind of gravitational pull all on his own. While we were talking, I felt in some ways that we were comrades. I think I said it before—he gives off this somewhat public aura, like he belongs to the public. He carries something bigger. In that sense, we are kindred spirits, people who shoulder a sense of duty. I felt he’s that kind of person. Setting aside his own interests, he’s charging ahead toward something only he can do. I’m glad he appreciated the phrase ‘professional Yuzuru Hanyu.’ He truly is ‘professional Yuzuru Hanyu’ now. I really felt we’re people who can connect through that kind of mindset.”

 

Two "non-human" beings connected to the cosmos... “We probably think in similar ways”

 

—It didn’t feel like something you created in such a short time. It was remarkably well done.

 

“He seems to have watched my Bolero performance a lot. He said things like, ‘That rhythm there was kind of loose, wasn’t it?’ (laughs). I improvise quite a bit myself, so he must’ve watched more closely than I have. He grasps my intentions really quickly—like we think in similar ways. When he started working with (choreographer) MIKIKO, she sent me a message on LINE saying: “While creating together with Hanyu-kun, I found myself thinking of you, Mansai-san, again and again. The two of you immediately go to ‘the universe’ (when thinking creatively).” I’m a bit of a non-human^[5] (jingai) type myself. I mean, onmyōji^[6] are like that too, right? Even an Onmyōji is someone who’s connected to the universe. With Bolero, people might wonder, ‘What does it mean to become a god?’ But for us, we’re in professions where we put on masks and embody that moment of transforming into a god, like in the kyōgen piece Sanbasō.^[7] He (Hanyu) is very interested in those ideas, he’s sensitive to them, and he gets inspired by them.”

 

“He definitely has a kind of divine quality^[8] (kamigakari) about him. Otherwise, there’s no way he could pull off something as massive as this. It’s because he has that divine aura and sense of mission^[9] (shimeikan) that he’s able to speak so powerfully to others. That underlying sympathy between us is why we could create something so quickly in just a few days. And that’s because he’d already done his studying. Deep down, figure skating and nōgaku^[10] movements aren’t so far apart. There’s rhythm, flow (hakobi)^[11], and beat/pulse (haku)^[12] , and sometimes that concept of beat even disappears. It’s like entrusting your body to the universe. When people walk, their footsteps make sound. But the moment they take flight, that rhythm suddenly vanishes. Whether he’s just gliding or flying through space, I think the emotion and energy inside him changes depending on that. That’s something I said ten years ago, which is why I thought we should start with Tenchi-jin (‘Heaven, Earth, and Humanity’). For the more devoted fans, it was like a review of my teachings. I thought they might enjoy it for that reason as well.”

 

NOTES

[1] 孤独 (Kodoku): solitude, loneliness. For translation, the choice between "solitude" and "loneliness." The tone in the interview is reverent, respectful, and almost philosophical. Mansai is not pitying Hanyu or suggesting he's sad or isolated in a negative way. Rather, he's acknowledging the kind of existential solitude that comes from walking an unshared path — being in a realm that few (or no one) else can truly enter. depends heavily on the emotional tone and context.
In Japanese, 孤独 often appears in discussions of artists, craftsmen, or visionaries who are pursuing something so unique or uncompromising that no one else can truly accompany them. This is not necessarily sad — it's often portrayed as a dignified and even necessary part of becoming someone like Yuzuru Hanyu or Mansai Nomura. Thus, Mansai’s use of the “Profession Yuzuru Hanyu” and “Profession Mansai Nomura”

[3] 必然 (hitsuzen): inevitability, necessity. To convey that it wasn’t forced or decided by logic.

[3] The Bon Odori formation refers to the traditional dance formation used during Bon Odori (盆踊り), a folk dance performed during Obon, the Japanese Buddhist custom of honoring the spirits of ancestors. Bon Odori uses a circular formation. Most commonly, participants dance in a circle around a central elevated platform called a yagura (櫓). The circular motion represents the cyclical nature of life and death, aligning with Obon’s spiritual themes of remembrance and return.

[4] ゴニョゴニョ言っていたでしょ. ゴニョゴニョ(gonyo-gonyo) is an onomatopoeic word that mimics mumbling or muttering. Mansai lightheartedly remarks that Yuzuru was murmuring or hesitating when talking about the word “retirement,” implying that even in his hesitation, he was being very deliberate and thoughtful.

[5] “人外” (jingai) to refer that their modes of thinking, perceiving, and creating exist outside typical human frameworks.

[6] 陰陽師 (Onmyōji), a mystical figure who is understood to be in touch with forces beyond the ordinary — even the universe itself.

[7] 三番叟 (Sanbasō), A celebratory and sacred dance in Noh and Kyōgen theater, performed to pray for peace, prosperity, and bountiful harvests. It often involves rhythmic stomping (足拍子 ashibyōshi) as a symbolic act of grounding and invoking spiritual resonance with the earth.

[8] 神がかり(kamigakari), the more literal meaning is a state of divine possession, specifically where a spiritual being (kami) enters and takes over a human body, allowing the spirit to speak or act through the individual. Here the term is used figuratively to describe someone whose performance or act seems beyond human — as if touched by a divine force.

[9] 使命感（shimeikan）, Sense of mission, sense of duty, or calling.Together, 使命感 refers to a deep inner conviction that one has a role or purpose to fulfill — often spiritual or socially meaningful.

[10] 能楽 (Nōgaku), is one of the traditional styles of Japanese theater. It is composed of the lyric drama noh (能), and the comic theater kyōgen (狂言).

[11] 運び (hakobi), in Noh and traditional Japanese arts, 運び refers to how one moves from one point to another — with intention, balance, and grace. It encompasses more than just physical motion; it includes timing, emotion, breath, and even spatial awareness.

[12] 拍 (haku), beat or rhythmic unit. In music and traditional performing arts, 拍 refers to a rhythmic pulse or beat — not necessarily in the Western sense of a metronomic "tick," but more fluid and often tied to breath, movement, and timing. In Noh, 拍 includes both audible beats (from drums, chanting, etc.) and internalized, almost meditative rhythm — pauses (間 / ma) are just as important as movement. Especially in Noh, 拍 is a broader concept that includes: physical rhythm (timing of movement or music), emotional rhythm (the felt cadence of a line or gesture), and a kind of pulse, as in a living, breathing flow of energy in performance.