"Why are we in this form? Why do we have to be this particular shape? Why is the face on top of the neck? Our face could be on the soles of our feet. . . . Human beings are quite a strange kind of life form . . ."
Thus muses Akaji Maro, founder in 1972 of Dairakudakan, Japan's biggest and arguably still most innovative butoh company. The literal meaning of the company's name is "Great Camel Battleship," but Maro says that the name was chosen when he was drinking with friends and it was only later that he realized the camel seemed to signify endurance and patience as well as embodying all the 12 signs of the Chinese zodiac in one. "And," he laughs, "when camels first appeared in Japan during the Meiji Period, people really didn't know what to make of them."
When butoh first appeared in Japan after World War II, people really didn't know what to make of it either. It originated with Tatsumi Hijikata (1928-86), a native of Akita Prefecture, and -- with its near-naked dancers with shaved heads and white body paint, plus its vocabulary of slow, grotesquely twisted movements -- it has continued to intrigue and amaze audiences around the world.