Dear Yuko-sama,
It feels a bit awkward to write a letter like this to a dear friend with whom I shared twelve years at a girls’ school, from elementary through high school.
Before the Nishikawa School’s studio relocated to Ichigayadai-machi, we were neighbors, and I have fond memories of frequently visiting your place in Roppongi 3-chome. I was always warmly welcomed, not only by your parents but also by the resident apprentices.
Both at school and at home, you were always the model student—standing tall with perfect posture, the very embodiment of diligence. Even now, that hasn’t changed. I often marvel, with deep gratitude, at how you’ve remained close to someone as carefree as me over all these years.
I still remember the moment I first heard you refer to your father as ‘Sōke’ (the head of the school). It was then that I realized you had truly embraced the path of Nihon Buyo. Today, I greatly admire your unwavering dedication to your art and how you continue to shine as one of Japan’s foremost dancers.
When you suggested hosting the inaugural “Yuu no Kai” at my family’s teahouse, OHASHI CHARYO, I was overjoyed and immediately agreed. Founded in 1948 by my grandmother, Soki Ohashi, as a kaiseki house specializing in tea ceremony cuisine, OHASHI CHARYO is a sukiya-zukuri (traditional Japanese architectural style) structure, built after World War II and now listed as a “Registered Tangible Cultural Property” by the Agency for Cultural Affairs. It remains one of Tokyo’s rare and treasured spaces where authentic tea ceremonies can still be held.
This time, we hope our guests will step away from the ordinary and fully immerse themselves in Japanese culture through Nihon Buyo, a recitation, and a moment of tea, all within this extraordinary setting.
There is a term, “ichiza konryū,” which describes the profound sense of unity that arises during a tea ceremony when the host extends heartfelt hospitality, and the guests, attuned to this intention, respond with deep appreciation, creating an extraordinary connection. Our hope is to foster this same spirit of connection through “Yuu no Kai,” uniting both those attending and those welcoming them.
I extend my deepest gratitude to everyone who has formed new connections with us through “Yuu no Kai.” And Yuko-san, please allow me the honor of always being one of your devoted supporters.
Ruriko Kamata
OHASHI CHARYO
Dear Ruriko-sama,
It feels slightly unusual to express my thoughts in writing to someone who has always felt so effortlessly close, and I share the same mild awkwardness as you. I fondly remember our childhood days around Shiba-kamiya-cho and Azabu-ichibei-cho, when grassy fields still remained. We used to walk back and forth along those grassy hills to visit each other. Perhaps, as a child raised in the meticulously maintained and distinguished house known as ‘CHARYO,’ you needed moments of freedom, and my bustling home, always filled with people coming and going, offered a more fitting place for you to unwind.
In my case, my home was not only a shared living space with live-in apprentices but also a place of learning. My parents, above all, instilled in me the importance of following rules and honoring commitments. With little reason to rebel, I may have seemed rather serious and inflexible. In contrast, you always remained true to yourself. By the time we reached junior high school, you already carried the aura of an adult. I vividly recall the Sunday school excursion from Reinanzaka Church, where we both attended, to the Akigawa Valley. Despite not having a swimsuit, you were the first to leap into the river, and as soon as you did, everyone else quickly followed. I’m sure the teachers scolded you afterward, but I was deeply impressed by your inner strength—the ability to make your own decisions and act upon them.
Later, when you became the young proprietress of Kamata, one of the most distinguished and historic inns, even among the many renowned establishments in Yugawara, I saw how effortlessly you engaged with guests from all walks of life. It was then that I realized this was a natural talent you had possessed all along.
As for me, the decision to choose my path came much later. It wasn’t until I entered university and began studying under Shigeka Hanayagi-sensei, thanks to my father’s arrangement, that I truly committed to it. Though I had already grasped the fundamentals of Nihon Buyo at home, it wasn’t until I reached adulthood that I began to consciously observe my own dancing with objectivity. My mentor’s performances were so inspiring that they made even someone like me, with only a basic understanding of the art, think ‘I hope to dance like this’ and ‘I wish I could dance like that.’
When it comes to performance venues, I have danced not only in large and small theaters but also on Noh stages, in temples, and, at times, have even taken on the challenge of street performances. While I would love to perform anywhere to reach as many people as possible, the reality is that the setting plays a crucial role. The space must be thoughtfully curated to allow the audience to fully immerse themselves in the experience. Grand, renowned theaters possess a distinctive atmosphere, which undoubtedly contributes to drawing audiences. In this sense, a tea room, embodying the beauty of simplicity refined over time, can be considered the smallest and most intimate stage. The sukiya-zukuri architecture and the roji (a traditional garden style associated with teahouses) of OHASHI CHARYO are cultural treasures, preserving Japanese tradition in the heart of the city.
With major venues like the National Theatre undergoing renovation, I have embraced the challenge of refining my mindset and skills as an artist in more intimate spaces, where I can connect more closely with the audience. I am truly delighted that our childhood friendship has deepened and flourished through this new cultural and artistic collaboration, uniting our family traditions. I eagerly look forward to the exciting developments ahead.
Yuko Nishikawa