In
my
opinion,
a
cultured
society
is
one
in
which
the
perceptive
and
expressive
abilities
of
its
people
are
cultivated
through
the
use
of
their
innate
animal
energy.
Such
animal
energy
fosters
the
sense
of
security
and
trust
needed
for
healthy
communication
in
human
relationships
and
the
communities
they
form.
The
distinguishing
characteristics
of
an
animal-‐energy-‐based
society
essentially
differ
from
those
of
a
society
sustained
by
non-‐animal
energy,
such
as
electricity,
petroleum
and
nuclear
power.
Most
people
would
automatically
consider
this
society
reliant
on
non-‐animal
energy
to
be
the
more
civilized.
For
me,
however,
a
civilized
society
is
not
necessarily
a
cultured
one.
If
we
consider
the
origins
of
civilization,
we
can
see
that
its
rise
was
intrinsically
tied
to
the
bodily
functions.
Its
development
may
even
be
interpreted
as
the
gradual
sensory
expansion
of
the
eyes,
ears,
nose,
tongue
and
skin.
Inventions
like
the
telescope
and
microscope,
for
example,
arose
from
the
human
aspiration
and
endeavor
to
see
more,
radicalizing
the
sense
of
sight.
Over
time,
the
accumulation
of
such
achievements
has
come
to
be
called
civilization.
Consequently,
when
we
analyze
the
kind
of
energy
required
to
realize
such
aspirations,
the
issue
of
modernization
inevitably
surfaces.
In
fact,
a
criterion
some
sociologists
in
the
United
States
apply
to
differentiate
modernized
from
pre-‐ modernized
societies
is
the
ratio
of
animal
to
non-‐animal
energy
employed
in
production
processes.
Animal-‐energy
here
refers
to
the
organic
physical
energy
supplied
by
human
beings,
horses,
oxen
and
the
like;
while
non-‐animal
energy
again
refers
to
electricity,
petroleum,
nuclear
power,
etc.
According
to
the
theory,
one
way
of
determining
a
country’s
level
of
modernization
is
to
calculate
the
amount
of
non-‐ animal
energy
it
consumes.
In
many
countries
of
the
Near
East
and
Africa,
for
example,
the
amount
of
non-‐animal
energy
consumed
is
very
low
compared
with
such
countries
as
the
United
States
and
Japan,
where
non-‐animal
energy
predominates
in
virtually
all
production
processes.
If
we
apply
this
criterion
to
the
theatre,
we
notice
that
most
contemporary
stage
productions
are
modernized
and
rely
heavily
on
non-‐animal
energy.
Electricity
powers
the
lighting,
sound
equipment,
stage
lifts
and
turntables;
while
the
theatre
building
itself
is
the
end
product
of
various
industrial
activities
powered
by
non-‐ animal
energy,
from
the
laying
of
the
concrete
foundation
to
the
creation
of
props
and
scenery.
Japanese
Noh,
on
the
other
hand,
survives
as
a
form
of
pre-‐modern
theatre
that
employs
almost
no
non-‐animal
energy.
In
the
case
of
music,
for
example,
most
modern
theatre
utilizes
digital
equipment
to
electronically
reproduce
pre-‐recorded
or
live
sound
through
amplifiers
and
loudspeakers,
whereas
in
the
Noh,
the
voices
of
the
principle
actors
and
the
chorus,
as
well
as
the
sound
of
the
instruments
played
on
stage
are
projected
directly
to
the
audience.
Noh
costumes
and
masks
are
made
by
hand,
and
the
stage
itself
is
built
according
to
pre-‐modern
carpentry
techniques.
Although
electric
lights
now
illuminate
the
Noh
stage
(which
I
still
object
to—in
the
old
days
it
was
done
with
tapers),
this
is
kept
to
a
minimum
and
never
resembles
the
elaborate,
multi-‐colored
light
designs
of
the
modern
theatre.
In
its
essence,
Noh
is
pervaded
by
the
spirit
of
creating
something
purely
out
of
human
skill
and
effort—so
much
so
that
it
can
be
thought
of
as
an
epitome
of
the
pre-‐modern
theatre.
It
is
an
endeavor
driven
by
animal
energy.
In
both
Europe
and
Japan,
the
theatre
has
developed
along
with
the
times
and
thus,
in
an
effort
to
increase
its
audience
appeal,
has
employed
non-‐animal
energy
in
nearly
every
facet
of
production.
Paradoxically,
this
shift
to
non-‐animal
energy
has
caused
considerable
damage
to
the
art
form.
Just
as
the
eyes’
natural
capacity
to
see
has
been
diminished
through
the
invention
and
use
of
the
microscope,
etc.,
modernization
has
severed
our
natural
organs
from
our
essential
selves,
entrusting
an
increasingly
larger
portion
of
their
workload
to
non-‐animal
energy.
The
automobile
replaces
the
act
of
walking.
The
computer
takes
the
place
of
directly
seeing
and
hearing.
In
vitro
fertilization
eliminates
the
need
for
sexual
contact.
In
truth,
all
innovations
created
for
the
sake
of
civilization’s
progress
are
the
material
result
of
efforts
to
minimize
the
use
of
animal
energy.
As
a
consequence,
the
potential
of
the
human
body
and
its
various
functions
has
undergone
a
dramatic
downsizing,
weakening
the
communication
between
people
that
is
based
on
animal
energy.
Regrettably,
this
trend
has
also
taken
its
toll
on
the
expressive
skills
of
the
actor.
To
counter
this
debilitating
modernization
of
the
actor’s
craft,
I
have
strived
to
restore
the
wholeness
of
the
human
body
in
performance,
not
simply
by
creating
variants
of
such
forms
as
the
Noh
and
kabuki,
but
by
employing
the
universal
virtues
of
these
and
other
pre-‐modern
traditions.
By
harnessing
and
developing
these
enduring
virtues,
we
create
an
opportunity
to
re-‐consolidate
our
currently
dismembered
physical
faculties
and
revive
the
body’s
perceptive
and
expressive
capacity.
Only
by
committing
to
do
so
can
we
ensure
the
flourishing
of
culture
within
civilization.