Virginia Review of Asian Studies
DANGEROUS WOMEN: GENDER PERFORMATIVITY IN JAPAN AND
THE TAKARAZUKA REVUE
CORAL COLLINS
MARY BALDWIN COLLEGE
The Takarazuka Revue (宝塚歌劇団)is a famous Japanese subculture
and maintains a large, loyal fan base that gives it prevalence in popular culture.
As an all-female theatre company, the Revue challenges gender norms by using
female actors to play male roles as otokoyaku (男役).Through cross-dressing,
these women inhabit transitional spaces between genders, and the action of
fostering androgyny in the public eye creates an ethical dilemma in Japanese
society (Robertson, 1991b). Through the course of this paper, we will see how the
Takarazuka Revue has developed to match changing Japanese mindsets through
history and been criticized for promoting “immoral” gender practices. Otokoyaku
embody gender in a way that has been seen as “dangerous” by conservative
Japanese society (Robertson, 1992, 56). Why is androgyny in gendered
performance “dangerous”? What factors, unique to Japan, cause Japanese society
to perceive it as such? Is “dangerous” negative? Moreover, why and how are
Takarazuka performances and actors able to transcend socially constructed gender
roles in the theatre, and how does this affect perceptions of gender in Japanese
culture?
Living in Japanese society requires a certain amount of conformity in order to function in
everyday life. In general, Japanese people operate with a distinct group mentality, and
aberrations or distinctions are met with swift disapproval and attempts to “correct” the
anomalies. The Japanese saying, “The nail that sticks up gets hammered down” expresses this
sentiment, which is intrinsically understood in Japanese culture. Women are particularly
pressured to conform to societal expectations (e.g. marriage, having children, conforming to
aesthetic ideals, etc.) and marginalized gender groups, who cannot find their place in Japanese
society, also feel pressure to fit into pre-existing categories (Chambers, 2007). In Japan today,
given the nation’s highly developed economic status, the built-up effects of suppressed desires
and nonconformist ideas have given rise to the development of subcultures and alternative
cultures that appeal to aspects of personality, such as fashion, music, or other personal interests
(the degree of adherence to participation in subcultures – where an interested person falls on the
spectrum of non-conformity– is up to the individual). Subcultures, as the name suggests, exist on
the same plane as popular culture, but differentiate themselves in order to emotionally detach
from the pressures of everyday life. Japanese theater has traditionally reflected gender
expectations and limitations in Japanese society, and currently serves as a subculture which
detaches spectators from society while re-enforcing gender norms at the same time.
The Takarazuka Revue (Takarazuka kageki dan 宝塚歌劇団) is a famous subculture and
maintains a large, loyal fan base that gives it prevalence in popular culture. As an all-female
theatre company, the Revue challenges gender norms by using female actors to play male roles
as otokoyaku (男役). Through cross-dressing, these women inhabit transitional spaces between
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Virginia Review of Asian Studies
genders, and the action of fostering androgyny in the public eye creates an ethical dilemma in
Japanese society (Robertson, 1991b). Through the course of this paper, we will see how the
Takarazuka Revue has developed to match changing Japanese mindsets through history and been
criticized for promoting “immoral” gender practices. Otokoyaku embody gender in a way that
has been seen as “dangerous” by conservative Japanese society (Robertson, 1992, p.56). Why is
androgyny in gendered performance “dangerous”? What factors, unique to Japan, cause Japanese
society to perceive it as such? Is “dangerous” negative? Moreover, why and how are Takarazuka
performances and actors able to transcend socially constructed gender roles in the theatre, and
how does this affect perceptions of gender in
Japanese culture?
The Takarazuka Revue was started in
1914 by Kobayashi Ichizou, owner of the
Hankyuu railroad company, in the small hotspring resort town of Takarazuka, near Osaka. In
an attempt to promote the use of his train lines,
Kobayashi established the Takarazuka Girls’
Opera Training Association (Takarazuka
shoujokageki youseikai 宝塚少女歌劇養成会),
an all-female theatre company that eventually
The Takarazuka Grand Theatre (Takarazuka Dai Gekijou
became the Takarazuka Revue and the Takarazuka 宝塚大劇場) in Takarazuka Hyogo, Japan (宝塚兵庫
Music Academy; the word “shoujo (少女)”, which 日本)
refers to a young girl between puberty and marriage, was eventually dropped from the title, but
shoujo are still important to the Revue, both as incoming students and as fans. (Robertson, 1998,
p. 5). Future “Takarasiennes”, as the actresses were called (mimicking “Parisiennes” in reference
to the French roots of the revue theatre style), would apply to the Academy in their early teens to
be instructed in Western and Japanese theatre, music, and dance styles, and to eventually
perform in the Takarazuka Grand Theatre, which was the largest modern theatre in Japan at the
time. The students were assigned their “secondary-gender” (Robertson), which determined the
roles they would play for the remainder of their career, during the second year of their schooling
based on their physical attributes and natural talents.
Up until the establishment of new women’s theatre troupes in the 1920’s during the Meiji
period, actresses had been looked down upon in
society as immoral; this association stemmed from
the original presence of women in Kabuki
(歌舞伎). During the Edo period (1600-1868), the
newly developed performance category of “theatre
for the masses (taishuu engeki 大衆演劇)”, which
Kabuki instigated to cater to lower classes, and of
which Takarazuka is the most widely recognized
and watched (Robertson, 1998, p. 5), was
considered to be offensive and crude to the
Japanese aristocrats, who preferred the more
Interior of Grand Theater
conservative and refined Noh (能) style of theatre.
Women in the theatre were deemed to be immoral,
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and prostitution rings were led out of Kabuki theatres, causing officials to ban the presence of
actresses altogether to preserve public morality (Robertson, 1991a). As a result, when acting was
again offered for women, the occupation came with social connotations of licentiousness and the
implication that actresses were “defiled women” who led “profligate lives” (Robertson, 1998, p.
7).
Accordingly, when theatre for women was again available the older word for actress,
onnayakusha (女役者), was replaced with the more positive joyuu (女優) to quell wordassociations with depravity. When Kobayashi established the Takarazuka Revue, he strategically
titled the actresses portraying female roles on stage as musumeyaku (娘役) instead of
onnayakusha or joyuu; musume means “daughter”, and when compared with onna or jo (both
女), which indicates an adult (presumably more corrupt) woman, it connotes innocence, youth,
and virginity: all feminine, moral characteristics acceptable for young women in Japanese
society. Presumably, this also alleviated the fears of parents sending their daughters to become
Takarasiennes at the Takarazuka Academy that their children would learn to be a proper actress
under supervision and not subscribe to an immoral lifestyle. “Musumeyaku” implied that a
shoujo would embody characteristics
subscribing to culturally acceptable and
expected female roles. The Meiji statesanctioned “female role” for women in Japan,
which is still influential today in social
gender expectations, was the “good wife,
wise mother (ryousai kenbo良妻賢母) ideal
(Robertson, 1991a, p. 166). At the time,
young girls were expected to get married
early, to a man of their family’s choosing,
have children, and embody the ideal
submissive, faithful wife, and wise, caring
mother while managing her household, in
comparison to the male “loyal soldier” role.
Many girls were locked into this role, but the
Takarasiennes, who were and are forbidden to Modern otokoyaku and musumeyaku in full stage make-up
marry or date while still in their troupe, were
able to bend around the task of marriage by portraying gender roles on stage. Before and during
World War II, Kobayashi urged the Revue to put on performances in which the musumeyaku
embodied the “good wife, wise mother” to propagate the ideal. In contrast, the otokoyaku were
encouraged to exemplify the epitome of male behavior to enrich the “good wife, wise mother”
role on stage (Robertson, 1992, pp. 48-49). The sentiment behind learning to characterize such
traits is immortalized in the company’s motto: “Be pure, be righteous, be beautiful (Kiyoku,
tadashiku, utsukushiku清く, 正しく, 美しく).
In order to embody gender, Takarasiennes needed to learn “stylized gestures or
movements” (Ibid, 1998, p. 12) (kata 型) to signify gender. The “secondary” genders of
Takarasiennes were assigned on the value of obvious physical, gendered traits, most notably
height (at least above 5’5” [165 cm] for otokoyaku) and facial features. Once a gender was
assigned, the student’s hair was cut, or styled into braids, depending on respective gender, and
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distinctive gendered kata were introduced (e.g. new methods for walking and singing in baritone
registers for otokoyaku, and restricted, reserved movements and soprano register training for
musumeyaku). A contrast between otokoyaku exaggerating “ideal” romantic, traditional
masculine traits and musumeyaku’s over-feminine movements and super high singing voices
help the otokoyaku to appear manlier. According to Judith Butler, this kind of conditioned
gender-learning technique for portraying gender is rational because gender is performative and
formed through the repetition of gender-specific acts. Our outward displays of behavior, which
are performed through words and gestures by the body, signal our respective genders to others.
When these signals are mixed, and the body displays gestures that do not match the initial
perception of gender based in physical form, the politics of interaction with that individual
changes; therefore, androgyny consists of “the surface politics of the body” (Butler, 1990).
The Japanese word kata, especially in the context of its use by otokoyaku and
musumeyaku, brings to mind the contrary practice of Kabuki’s onnagata (女形) in terms of the
portrayal of the opposite sex in theatre; why does female-to-male cross-dressing and androgyny
in Takarazuka pose a “danger” to social norms, while onnagata have been practicing a similar
technique in theatre for hundreds of years without the gender hierarchy unraveling (far from it)?
It should be noted that this discrepancy is not the result of gender bias towards female
androgyny, nor favoritism shown towards an older theatre tradition, but a difference in practice
and essential application of gender for use in theatre. The kata (型) of stylized movement and the
kata in onnagata (形), connote different meanings: while kata (型) refers to a style or form of
movement in acting or a mold to fit into, onnagata’s kata (形) indicates the form or shape of a
figure, as in a model. Additionally, the yaku (役) in otokoyaku (男役) denotes a duty, a role, or a
service, indicating an obligation or a job (Denshi Jisho, n.d.). From these analyses of kanji, we
can deduce the different approaches to gender interpretation present in these methods.
The fundamental difference and relationship between onnagata and otokoyaku can be
compared to that of essentialism and constructionism. The onnagata uses a gender-specialized
version of the Buddhist concept of henshin (変身) to form the basis of their performance:
without studying real women or socially constructed gendered actions, an onnagata “becomes
Woman, as opposed to impersonat[ing] a given female/woman” (Robertson, 1992, p. 50);
however, the onnagata is not simply, “a male acting in a role in which he becomes a woman,” as
that would imply superficiality to the transformation, but rather as, “a male who is a woman
acting a role” (Ibid). In addition, the onnagata is expected to embody femininity in his daily life,
and develop his performance of femininity based on generalized ideals of female archetypes, as
an individual actor would not be able to aptly represent true femininity if he were allowed license
to interpret; furthermore, it can be deduced from the kanji in onnagata (女 形), which I have
previously analyzed, that onnagata are intended to be a model of female behavior for biological
women to emulate. Onnagata draw their inspiration for their actions from traditional male ideas
of female gender portrayal in Japanese culture, which are described as being essential to female
behavior. By subscribing to these essentialist notions about gender to inform presentation and
assuming a borrowed, “essence”, the henshin practice of onnagata distinguishes itself from the
constructionist gender performativity used by otokoyaku for similar purposes; however,
otokoyaku, while allowed creative license with appropriated gendered actions, is not intended to
serve as a role model for real men, but is meant to reflect female desires and expectations for the
sake of pleasing the fans and creating a transcendent theatre atmosphere.
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Henshin is not applicable in otokoyaku interpretations because the constructionist process
by which they interpret gender does not give credence to an internal essence, and she cannot,
therefore, enact the male gender through translating essential masculinity; the performative
gender of otokoyaku is projected, superficially, onto the body, (Butler, 1990) and she achieves
the “male” gender, not through henshin, but by “’putting something on the body’ (mi ni
tsukeru身につける) (Denshi Jisho, n.d.), in this case, markers of masculinity” (Robertson, 1992,
p. 51). Therefore, an otokoyaku portrays masculinity because it is her duty (yaku, 役), and is not
meant as an example for men to imitate; she is just doing her job, which is only significant as a
gender interpretation within the confines of the theatre (Ibid).
One may wonder if this fact is solely an effect of the deviating interpretation systems by
which onnagata and otokoyaku operate, or if the applicability of their respective gender
performances to biological members of the sex portrayed is affected by the particular birth
genders of the actors in each theatre method. I would venture to argue that the male onnagata are
considered more seriously as gender role models because, as men, they are socially accepted to
be hierarchically superior to women and are in a position to dictate the acceptable terms and acts
that constitute feminine behavior in Japanese society. In addition, the male who cross-dresses as
a woman for the purposes of art and embodying “correct” female behavior as an example is not
considered to be a threat to the normative gender system because his actions do not jeopardize
the current norms, but rather enforce them. In contrast, otokoyaku who freely interpret aspects of
gender, with the result of creating androgyny within an already established gender role, are
“dangerous” because they threaten to break away from traditional gender models and live in the
spaces in between, or to usurp male power altogether by acting as men.
The socially imposed, repetitive, gender acts that enlighten the performances of
Takarazuka is the result of conscious, constant observation of male behavior by otokoyaku and of
dutiful performance of stereotyped, “male-identified” (Robertson, 1992, p. 51) fictional female
characteristics intended to propagate traditional female roles (i.e. all Takarasiennes subscribe to a
socially constructionist method of applying gender to performance, but musumeyaku are not
encouraged to deviate from the generalized gender norms, while otokoyaku are given more
agency in the interpretation of their role, within the parameters set up by the theatre’s [male]
directors). The application of performed gestures and assumed physical characteristics, without
making reference to an immutable “core” or “essence”, conforms to the criteria of constructionist
philosophy, and it would therefore be appropriate to use Judith Butler’s postmodernist,
constructionist theory of gender performativity to analyze the “dangers” of exploring spaces
between binary gender norms.
Japanese society is traditionalist to a fault in regards to gender roles, scoring 101st out of
135 countries on the World Economic Forum’s Gender Gap Report in 2012 (Haussmann, Tyson,
& Zahidi, 2012). It is very clear that the Japanese public is rooted firmly in binary gender
thought, which is the result of unconsciously protecting the heteronormative, homogenous norms
in society from changing. Societal norms are necessary to structure society; to be without them
and still retain a coherent society is unfathomable. Judith Butler (2004) explained this concept
succinctly:
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…the sense of what a norm is and what, finally, is “normative” depends on the kind of
social theory from which these terms emerge. On the one hand, norms seem to signal the
regulatory or normalizing function of power, but from another perspective, norms are
precisely what binds individuals together, forming the basis of their ethical and political
claims. When…I oppose violence done by restrictive norms, I appear to appeal to a norm
of nonviolence. It would seem to follow that norms can operate both as unacceptable
restrictions and as part of any critical analysis that seeks to show what is unacceptable in
that restrictive operation. (pp. 219-220)
Japanese society depends on social norms to maintain the status quo, and it is unusual
among developed countries in that it is extremely reluctant to challenge these norms for fear of
upending the social order: very few public policies have been significantly changed since the
institution of the U.S.-authored Constitution, in contrast to the United States, which has made
many adjustments to political directives for the betterment of American society. It must be noted
that norms cannot be separated from society, and it is better to view them as a part of culture that
can be altered for ethical benefit and regarded as positive or negative depending on
interpretation. Gender-bending in Takarazuka has been described as “dangerous,” and it
“threatens” gender norms that keep heteronormative society functioning; however, should crossdressing in theatre really be considered negative? I believe that the act of defying gender in a
cooperative, communal experience may actually form part of a solution to Japan’s rigid ideas
about legitimate gender roles.
Coming back to the notion of subculture as a coping method to ease societal pressures,
Takarazuka creates a unique way to allay the (perhaps unconscious) stress of living in Japanese
society. Theatre, like other art forms, stems from a blank canvas influenced by outside stimuli:
on an empty stage, there are no gender expectations, but audiences always bring their knowledge
of the world outside the theatre. Artistic freedom facilitates the conception of a space in which
the audience and the actors, disregarding sex, gender, or sexuality, can (briefly) rise above and
outside of the gender roles they play to conform with society (Nakamura & Matsuo, 2003). As an
example, I would like to consider the “good wife, wise mother” motif and flip it on itself; instead
of being perceived as an oppressive pattern to which women are expected to conform, the idea
can be seen through Takarazuka in a different light –as something surmountable. One can
consider how the “good wife, wise mother” norm can be re-interpreted on both sides of the
theatre: those of Takarazuka fans and audience members, and the Takarasiennes themselves.
Where Takarazuka’s many fans are concerned, the theatre serves as an escape from
reality. Fans of Takarazuka are, more often than not, obsessed with the Revue, and are 95%
women. They join fan clubs, see shows frequently, spend tons of capital and time in the pursuit
of being closer to their idols; however, true to Japanese group-oriented ideals, fans are well
organized and reasonable (e.g. fans will wait in line for hours to get a glimpse of their favorite
star, but when the actress arrives they will bow respectfully and unobtrusively take pictures, in
contrast to their shrieking American counterparts). Contrary to popular belief, not all fans fit into
the shoujo category: many fans are housewives and elderly women, with a minority of male fans
(MacGregor, 1996) and reasons for becoming a fan are varied. Although the company still
propagates the “good wife, wise mother” ideal through its motto (see note footnote 12),
housewives have sought to escape from filial responsibilities by becoming a fan of Takarazuka.
Other fans are dissatisfied with their love lives and want to escape into a fantasy. The largest
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reason for Takarazuka’s popularity in modern Japan, and an object of paranoia for homophobic
critics’, is fans’ deep frustration with, and disappointment in, Japanese men. MacGregor (1996),
in her Washington Post article which interviewed Takarazuka Revue director Shinji Ueda, noted,
“Ueda attributes Takarazuka’s popularity to the inequality for the sexes, women’s dissatisfaction
with Japanese men, and the restrictions placed on women in Japanese society” (p. D08). Women
benefit from the atmosphere of Takarazuka by temporarily escaping from gender expectations,
and are in turn empowered by seeing women (otokoyaku) in a position of power; a path around
the “good wife, wise mother” ideal solidifies itself. As Ueda explains in MacGregor (1996),
“Many women love the shows because when they see other women on stage portraying men,
they say to themselves: ‘I could do that!’”(p. D09).
Takarasiennes are empowered in a different way by subverting constructed gender norms,
and musumeyaku and otokoyaku benefit in separate ways. Both gender-specialist groups, being
unmarried and (largely) young, technically belong to the social group of the shoujo; however,
musumeyaku, because they bodily reflect gender norms in their acting without the agency that
otokoyaku have, benefit more directly from belonging to this group and being a Takarasienne.
Furthermore, musumeyaku have the freedom to represent their own gender attributes on stage,
because they do not live in the public sector. By virtue of being a Takarasienne, they can also
choose to delay marriage (and the subsequent entry into “adulthood” as defined in Japanese
culture) and therefore remain in control of their own lives (Grᾰjdian, 2011). Otokoyaku are
empowered by the roles they play: male characters played by a female can be viewed as neutral,
and therefore are perceived socially as being androgynous. By enacting conflicting gender roles
with a separately sexed body, the otokoyaku is able to briefly escape the constraints of her birth
gender, but in doing so she must leave behind her own identity to become an “entity of desire
and site of projection” (Grᾰjdian, 2011, p. 13 ). Thus, Takarasiennes are able to almost
completely step around the “good wife, wise mother” ideal; however, in doing so, it should be
noted that they lose their agency.
I titled this paper “Dangerous Women”, because I was struck by those words in reading
about otokoyaku who cut their hair in the early days of the Revue. The first girls who cut their
hair short at that time, the so-called “modern girls,” were considered to be, “extroverted,
maverick, and in the eyes of critics, dangerous women” (Robertson, 1992, p. 56). The idea that,
by cutting her hair (which was supposed to be symbolically as important to a Japanese woman as
her life), a woman who was defying what defined gender at that time was considered to be
“dangerous” struck me as significant. Before the influence of the “modern girls”, women who
cut their hair did so as a way of withdrawing from society into religious service; otokoyaku in the
1920’s were held to different standards of gender norms that those of the present, and yet those
norms shifted with popular demand. Although Japan is a very innovative country, when it comes
to social normativity, progressive gender embodiment is judged to be “dangerous” or immoral. If
Japan could be open to change, on many different levels, many of its problems would simply
disappear. Shifts in social norms do not herald the end of civilization, and any perceptions of
gender and identity mutability as a threat, whether it is embodied in the street or in the
Takarazuka Revue, should be met with an open mind.
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