Ko-Uta: Little Songs of the Geisha World. Liza Crihfield

means something along the lines of character or spirit.

      As there is no precise English equivalent, the best way to proceed is to give examples of the semantic context in which iroke appears. Many of the ko-uta themselves are prime illustrations of iroke, but a few preliminary words may help the reader approach them with a deeper understanding.

      Iroke is sensuality; it is evoked by images which appeal to the senses. It denotes attraction felt between the sexes in the passing of a glance or the swish of a trailing kimono. The essence of iroke is understatement. The minute it becomes obvious it ceases to be iroke. It is a subtle atmosphere created by the contact of two people. It cannot exist in the abstract, and it is not as blatant as “sex appeal.” It implies intimacy in that it becomes lost in an impersonal situation.

      Some examples of iroke are : the tiny glimpse of red which lines the geisha’s formal black kimono, seen against the white of the powdered nape of her neck; the sidelong glance, exchanged without a word, between a man and a woman; playing the shamisen with the fingernail instead of the large ivory plectrum; the four-and-a-halfmat tatami room (yojōhan) which is just big enough for two people and a small table; the kotatsu, or quilt-covered table under which feet may be talking while faces above show no sign; one strand of hair loose in an otherwise perfect coiffure.

      The geisha probably best understand and embody iroke. It is a middle state between the elegant, refined, but somewhat unapproachable “proper lady,” and the obvious come-on of the rather loud, conventionally “sexy” bar hostess.

      The most welcome guests in the geisha world are, conversely, the men who have iroke, and more often than not these customers are quite familiar with ko-uta. They will have the geisha pick up the shamisen and accompany them, and though their voices may falter, the geisha keeps the rhythm by strategically placed “calls” (kakegoe) marking the phrases.

      FORM

      It is impossible to describe a form which applies to all ko-uta because of the diversity of the songs. The lines basically follow a pattern of seven and five syllables, which has been an almost “natural” rhythm for Japanese poetry since about the 6th century. While there are no strict rules for ko-uta as there are for waka or haikai renga, which are defined by their 5-7-5-7-7 structure, there is a decided preference for the sense of the phrases to follow a seven-five pattern rather than a five-seven one. So even when the verse starts out with a line of five syllables, it usually switches to a pattern in which a seven-syllable phrase is followed by a five-syllable line.

      In almost every case, the last line is one of five syllables, whether it is ending a phrase or the whole song, though occasionally different rhythm endings of even-numbered syllables are used for an odd effect. Several songs are in continuous seven-five couplets. In general, the more “serious” or “classical” the piece, the closer it adheres to the seven-and-five syllable pattern. Some of the more frivolous pieces contain unorthodox rhythms to bring out the bantering tone of the song.

      STRUCTURE

      While it is by no means true for all ko-uta, we find that many have a common structure in first sketching a natural scene, followed by a middle or pivot phrase which connects the description of nature to the last section, which talks of some human emotion. This technique is one commonly found in traditional poetry such as waka and haiku.

      The “pivot words,” or kakekotoba, finish one phrase while at the same time being the start of a new thought, so the phrases are inextricably tied. This kind of poetry can lead the mind from a descriptive scene to a human sentiment without a break. Also, with the large number of homophones in Japanese, the possibilities for double meanings are endless, and endlessly used in ko-uta.

      Ko-uta enjoyed popularity in the worldly-wise city of Edo (Tokyo), where they were composed and enjoyed by an ingroup which prided itself on its sophisticated entertainments. Some of the songs employ obscure or special slang phrases that were familiar only to those in the know. While some of the sentiments are vulgar, the style and expression are anything but. Along with this, there are certain “loaded” words that appear frequently and which have the power to evoke a wide range of emotional nuance for those of the ko-uta world.

      The musical structure of ko-uta in every case follows the text. That is, there are no “tunes” that exist on their own to which text would be added later. Often the musical mode changes to correspond with an emotional shift in the text, as can be clearly seen in the Western notation provided for Tomete mo Kaeru (the title represents the first phrase of the Japanese text; this is ko-uta number 6 in this selection). Such shifts make it difficult to ascertain the tonal center of a piece. In the last section of Tomete mo Kaeru the modes are combined and ultimately resolved by a return to the initial cadence pattern. This tendency can be found in many of the songs.

      The tempo and register of any song is left to the discretion of the performer, and some liberties can be taken with ornamentation, particularly of the vocal line.

      To help give the reader some idea of how a ko-uta sounds, I have included the score for Tomete mo Kaeru at the back of the book. The score is provided both in traditional shamisen notation and in a transposition into Western notation.

      HISTORY

      There were short lyric songs going by the name ko-uta far back in Japanese history. The first collection of such was compiled in 1518, and called Kanginshū. In the early 17th century, Rōsai Ryūtatsu, a prolific composer of these songs, put out a collection of his own work, and there is another famous compilation called Matsu no Ha from about a hundred years later.

      The prototype of the shamisen was imported to Japan around 1600, and it was soon used as an accompaniment to native folk songs. Out of this practice developed die utaimono, or “lyric shamisen music,” and from this style came the ditties collectively called ko-uta—now using a different character for uta which designates a “song” rather than a “poem.”