Hakushikijō [白式尉]

Hakushikijō has the face of an old man who seems thoroughly pleased to be here: lifted eyes, generous cheeks, a broad smile and a beard suspended from a separate chin. He belongs to Okina, a ceremonial performance of blessing and prayer with an exceptional place in Noh. The mask itself is treated as a sacred object. Its appearance brings together great age, vitality and tranquillity, qualities that serve a communal wish for peace and well-being.

The name means a white-coloured or white-type old man. Okina, meaning “old man,” is also the familiar name of this particular mask, although the word can name the performance and a wider family of masks. Hakushikijō identifies the pale face within that family; Kokushikijō is the black mask worn for Sanbasō. Keeping the distinction in mind helps when the same word, Okina, seems to be doing several jobs at once.

The wrinkles are among Hakushikijō’s most striking features. Deep, sweeping grooves curve around the cheeks and eyes and cross the forehead in repeated ridges. Their symmetry gives the face an emphatic, almost patterned rhythm. Crescent-shaped openings take the place of the smaller eyeholes familiar in many other masks of old men. The eyebrows project in soft tufts of cloth or fur. Long horsehair commonly forms the beard. A blackened band marks the upper edge of the face, while the parted lips may reveal short, irregular teeth.

There is no single outline shared by every example. Traditional classifications distinguish a relatively long, narrow Kasuga pattern, a triangular or heart-shaped Nikkō pattern, and a round Miroku pattern. Many masks fit these categories imperfectly. Nor does “white” always mean a stark white surface: tan examples may be called Nikushikijō, the flesh-coloured old man, and are commonly included under Hakushikijō or Okina. These are useful distinctions within a varied tradition.

The lower jaw is a separate piece, attached to the upper face by cords at either side. This construction, called kiriago, allows the chin to move as the performer moves. Michishige Udaka describes the resulting impression as a mask that seems to speak. In the example he discusses, rabbit-fur eyebrows, a horsehair beard, a red mouth and deep flowing wrinkles contribute to an affectionate image of old age.

A kindly expression is surprisingly exacting work. Udaka warns that a single mistake in carving can leave the face expressionless. For him, carving Hakushikijō also requires a commitment appropriate to an object regarded as divine. The apparent ease of the face rests on considerable care.

In Okina, the audience sees the performer put on the mask onstage. This visible act symbolizes his transformation into a representative of the gods. Reverence begins before he enters: the mask receives ritual homage in a room adjoining the stage. Performers also observe a period of ritual abstinence or purification, and Okina retains its own ceremonial manner and musical organization.

The blessings associated with Okina reach beyond the individual performer. Peace, secure conditions for the community, harvests, longevity and the flourishing of descendants recur in the sources. Yasuo Nakamura describes offerings of sake, washed rice and salt made before the ceremony and reads the smiling face as an auspicious presence. This helps explain why the mask can be both welcoming and solemn: its good humour belongs to a serious act of wishing the world well.

At Kurokawa, the setting helps determine how Okina appears. During the Ōgisai festival, performances at the troupe houses use white costumes, while a festival performance at the shrine includes patterned trousers. On other occasions, Okina is danced in coloured, patterned garments. The upper and lower troupes maintain distinct roles within these ceremonies. Hakushikijō belongs to these arrangements of people, clothing and movement as fully as it belongs to a collection of carved masks.

Even a small action can carry a local distinction. In the five established Noh schools, the mask is placed on the lid of its box when the performer reveres it; at Kurokawa, it rests on an opened fan. The visible act of putting on the mask is shared, while the object that supports it preserves a particular custom. Teaching also binds Kurokawa’s two troupes together: when a new troupe leader takes office, the serving leader of the other troupe transmits Okina to him before the Kasuga Shrine altar.

Nakamura’s account of Shushi-hashiri at Kasuga Shrine in Nara returns attention to the whole ceremony. Three old men in white garments, the shrine setting, song and dance draw those present into a reverent mood. Nakamura sees Okina as a figure free of human desire and turmoil, and wonders whether this freedom might represent a starting point for human life. Read through that reflection, Hakushikijō’s smile offers an image of age that has reached generosity and repose.