Above is a Noh theater mask. Four-and-a-half years ago I read some pieces of an article in Rolling Stone on a costumed metal band whose members' shock value did much to make up for their unmusicality. The vocalist wore a sort of Leatherface mask but insisted that it was from "Japanese Kabuki. My mother used to wear it, hide behind doors and scare me." Set aside the statute-limited tale of abuse. Kabuki? The next day I happened to be at the library and zeroed in on the Japanese culture shelf, going home with an armful of textbooks and picture books on Kabuki. It turns out that Kabuki, a theatrical art form begun in the 16th Century, is primarily identified by the absence of masks used in costumery. Go figure — one man's phony story was another's introduction to Japanese culture at its most venerable, intriguing and esoteric.
Dandy actors on the red carpet, full-body tattoos, May flowers, the Japanese subsidiary for Ricola and more in this week's broadcast of the free world's most thankfully worst-kept secret.