Familiar 9 November 1986
Trevor Leggett was head of the Japanese Department of the BBC.
This is one of his broadcasts to Japan
Zubari for 9 November 1986
Hello listeners! Today the theme is: actors’ clothes. When we watch a film or TV drama about ancient times in another country, we notice that although the actors’ clothes are very accurately tailored according to the customs of those days, the actors are often slightly uncomfortable in them. We see, for instance, a play about classical India, with the women wearing saris. An Indian lady keeps the sari in place by walking very smoothly. If one is not used to a sari, it will keep falling off. Some European women like to wear a sari, but it is generally several months before they can wear one naturally, so that it does not require constant re-adjusting. Indian women of course sometimes adjust their sari, but they do it unconsciously, so that the movement is hardly noticed. Whereas the European woman – perhaps an actress who is imitating an Indian woman on the stage – adjusts the sari with a conscious movement. This conscious movement is immediately noticed by the audience.
If we go to the first night of a London play about India, where some of the minor female parts are played by English actresses, we see, as a rule, that they are not at ease in the sari. But if the play has lasted a year, then the actresses have worn the sari over 300 times, and they are quite at home in it. These thoughts came to my mind when I was watching a display of Japanese Budo arts in London recently. The British Judoka looked quite at ease in their judogi; when the belt needed re-tying, as sometimes happens in a contest, they retied the belt with a smooth almost unconscious movement. It was something which they had done thousands of times. Judo has been practised in Britain for over 60 years.
But the British Kyudo archers were clearly not so experienced in handling the archery ceremonial. They did this side by side with Japanese experts, and though the foreigner’s movements were correct and exact, they were obviously carefully learnt, and not yet completely natural.
In a way, it was like children’s handwriting: very correct, but not at all expressive of the inner state of the writer. Or one could think of the careful kaisho handwriting produced by children: correct, but not expressive.
About thirty years ago, when the golf ranges were beginning to become popular in Japan, I noticed that most of the Japanese swings were exactly the same. They had been carefully learnt from a professional, and practised again and again in that exact form. An athlete, and an elderly businessman, had the same form of swing. Of course, the sportsman hit much better shots, because he could use the swing more accurately. But the form of the swing was the same.
But in Britain, many people have practised golf when they were small children. They did not have many lessons, but just imitated some skilful players whom they saw, and finally developed very individual swings of their own. This applied even to champions. The American champion Walter Hagen had such a wild swing that at the top of the swing he lost sight of the ball altogether! But still he could hit the ball accurately. Some well-known British amateur champions have played with a bent left arm. In spite of this technical fault, they could hit the ball very accurately and powerfully.
When I first saw Japanese at the golf ranges, I used to think of their swings as kaisho swings. Today in Japan, the golf swings are becoming much more individual. They are gyosho, if not yet sosho. The shots are, so to speak, played naturally and not artificially. This has happened in thirty years.
I wonder how long it will be before the British Kyudo enthusiasts look completely natural, and not like skilful actors.
© Trevor Leggett