THE RHYTHM OF YOKAGURA

Excerpt from 'Miyazaki: Between Shrine and Sea'

Miyazaki, Japan · 2026

From an ongoing manuscript exploring landscape, ritual, memory and the spaces between things in Miyazaki, Japan.

In ancient Japan, places were named after the specific characteristics of the lands they inhabited. Miyazaki Prefecture was once known as Hyuga no Kuni, ‘the country that faces the sun’. It is widely regarded as the birthplace of Japan, a highly symbolic place where mythology, ritual, and daily life converge to honour the Shinto gods. In Shinto, the sun is a sacred entity, a reverent, tangible expression of a living kami. The most revered kami is the goddess of the sun, Amaterasu. She is the highest deity in Japanese mythology. Her warmth cultivates the crops. Her divine light reveals the splendour of the earth. She is the fertile promise of eternal worldly sustenance. Japan is famously known as the land of the rising sun, with the etymological root of Japan combining nichi, sun, and hon, origin. The place where the sun originates. Takachiho town, Miyazaki, is said to be the epicentre of this origin, the point where Amaterasu descended to earth. Nearby, the mesmerising Takachiho Gorge was carved by the ancient waters of the Gokase River over thousands of years. It is arguably Miyazaki Prefecture’s most famous landmark, and people from across Japan visit to witness the dramatic scenery, cascading waterfalls and picturesque viewpoints.

Kagura dances are performed across Kyushu and are especially prevalent in Miyazaki Prefecture. So the legend goes, when Amaterasu arrived on earth, she took refuge in a cave after becoming angry with her brother, Susanoo-no-Mikoto, the Shinto storm god. The world was plunged into darkness. When she went into hiding, she took all the sunlight with her, too. The cave, in which the rest of the gods discussed how they could lure her out, is known as the Amano Yasukawara cave. The goddess Ame-no-Uzume enacted an unusual dance outside the entrance of the cave. This eclectic performance involved a striptease, and Amaterasu, intrigued as to what the commotion was, peeked through the stone door of the cave. One of the strongest gods, Tajikarao, took this opportunity to throw open the door, restoring light to the world once again.

***

By the evening, it was pitch black. We were standing in the car park outside the entrance to the Takachiho community centre. This is where Ichiro, the Kagura teacher, holds his classes every week. Tamura-sensei, Millie’s supervisor, said that we should wait for Ichiro to arrive so that they could open the doors to the hall. He was a cheerful and relaxed man. He greeted us shyly, squinting from behind his dark-framed glasses. He was impish, with a narrow mouth through which his teeth protruded endearingly. Despite his timidity, he spoke English with confidence, having lived in the Philippines with his family for many years.

Once he unlocked the sliding doors to the hall, he flicked the light on, and at last we could see each other clearly. Millie and I excitedly chatted to Tamura-sensei, intrigued as to the impending Kagura demonstration within the walls of the humbly decorated room. We began setting up, gathering the torimono for the performance that included bells, fans, and a white, semi-opaque garment called suō. An imposing taiko drum was rooted to the corner of the room, which would soon announce the start of kagura. The taiko is played continuously throughout, providing the base rhythm. Ichiro tentatively pulled it from the corner and positioned it to the right of the designated kagura dance area.

Millie and I both glanced at one another with intrigue. As Tamura-sensei obediently orchestrated her movements to the austere beat of the drum, the sound of the taiko grew stronger. Instantly, the voice of Ichiro sang out, a soulful, flat note, indicating the chant was about to begin. We all became silent and transfixed. The regular thud, thud, thud of the taiko and a singular, exposed human voice were the only two sounds in the whole room. Even the children, who were still hyperactively playing with their toys at the back of the hall, paused in reverence.

‘Kami is the natural-born energy that resides within everything, everywhere.’ Natsuki whispered. ‘In Shinto belief, the gods are all around us, particularly in the natural world. These beliefs have been passed down through generations by ordinary people. Kagura is a way for people to thank the kami for a good harvest.’

The cutting silence in the room exalted his solitary cry. It hung dormant in the air, between the low hum of his voice and the base of the drum. My inner dialogue trickled away, becoming absorbed into the methodical movements of the sequence. There was something primitive in the ordinariness of her movements. Stripped back, it was dramatically simple in nature. Her dancing adopted a form that entirely transcended language.

Once Tamura-sensei and the children had completed the practice demonstration, Millie and I could attempt our first-ever steps of kagura. We sauntered over to the box of torimono, collecting the bell and the fan, and placed the white garment over our shoulders. All four of us gathered towards the left side of the taiko. I tried to relax and not overthink the steps, following Millie as she hesitantly stepped forward.

One…two…three… turn.

The movements were logical, almost mechanical. Each bodily gesture was deliberately and meticulously planned, and this way of dancing felt more acclimatised to my naturally tense stance. It is in moments like these that I am reminded of the subconscious tension I hold in my body. Breathe in, breathe out. Kneeling on the floor, I observed Ichiro, who was now diagonally in front of me. He placed the fan in his left hand and the bells in his right hand, and then lowered both down to the floor. We all bowed deeply.

‘Using your right hand, take the bells from the floor on the left and place them next to the fan on your right. Then, slowly stand up, lifting the bells and the fan with your right hand only.’

We followed his guidance carefully, and once we were fully set up, it was now time to reveal the fan and display it before us.

Takachiho is a container of rich historical traditions, in an environment preserved over millennia. It is a place where time has slowed down. What remains at Takachiho has been manifested through ancient Japanese rituals that transcend human memory. These embody a nostalgic mourning for the landscapes of the past. Kagura is a profound example of how oral histories are rendered tangible through the artistry of traditional dance. Histories which are embedded in the very mountains, rivers, gorges, and forests of the natural world. To practice kagura is to actively yearn for a time gone by. Anthropologist Goda Hiroko argues that kagura connects the mythical events of the past to a lived reality of the present. Through this art form, the unspoken essence of Shinto is revealed. Kagura is a powerful vehicle for promoting environmental awareness because it can remind the community that environmental sensitivity is an integral part of what it means to be Japanese.

Nature is an active witness to memories of place and time. The mountains and oceans, seemingly immovable and permanent, are in a constant state of transition. The Japanese are regularly reminded of this with every tremor of the earth, typhoon, and natural disaster. The philosopher Dōgen was the founder of the Soto school of Zen, a seminal Buddhist monk who lived in 13th-century Japan. Most famously, he suggested that "being is time, and time is being”. If time itself is destroyed, then mountains and seas would be destroyed too. Through the lens of kagura, we can begin to understand that reenacting this art form allows us to experience ancient memories of time and place. Through dance, the body becomes a vessel for nonverbal communication, conveying tacit and abstract notions of time.

Within Shinto, both power and energy are believed to be inherent within all objects. Implicit communication through kagura conveys the essence of the feeling, the feeling of what it is to be. No words, no description or succinct evaluation is present in such a language, as meaning is indirectly expressed. Being, feeling, and time are therefore rendered as one. The neighbouring mighty Mount Aso has occupied these lands in this part of Kyushu for the last 270,000 years. Mount Aso is not only something that purely exists in time, but it becomes a part of time itself. To exist as something real in the world, Dōgen argues that something must be in a state of constant becoming, expressed through continuous environmental change and evolution. When we gaze upon the vast mountain, we forget that it is and has always been in a state of perpetual transformation. Moss forms and dies, portals of land are lacerated wide open, rivers of red fire blaze and effervesce in their fury towards the crust of the earth. Mount Aso is a living, breathing expression of impermanence - a part of what it is for the mountain to exist in time.