When they appeared on the stage, the faces of the actors were frequently painted with startling streaks of red and white, an effect reproduced in some of the prints. The elaborate robes worn when they represented heroic figures of bygone ages formed superb material for the designs of the artists. The Japanese stage of to-day probably does not differ very much from what it was in Shunsho's time; and we still see on it that florid elaboration of gesture, bombastic delivery, and intensification of facial expression which the prints have perpetuated.
The actors were divided into clans or schools; the name of a famous head of a clan would be handed down for generations from master to pupil. Thus there were many of the name of Danjuro, Hanshiro, and Kikunojo in succession, who were not related to each other by blood. Certain clans such as the Kikunojo specialized exclusively in women's rôles. Each clan had its _mon_ or crest, worn on the sleeve, and each actor had a personal _mon_; in the prints these generally appear. In Plate 20, for example, the circle with eight crossed arrow-buts indicates the _mon_ of Nakamura Matsuye; in other prints, the three great concentric squares of Danjuro, the trisected concentric circles of Hanshiro, or the iris within a circle of Kikunojo (Plate 9), are easily identified.
In the hands of Shunsho and his followers the figures of these actors were used as the material for brilliant designs. For the moment, however, we must return to the foremost artist of this period--one who never loved the actors--Harunobu.
Ye winds that somewhere in the West-- In gulfs of sunset, isles of rest-- Rise dewy from prenatal sleep To strew with little waves the deep-- Surely it is your breath that stirs These fluttering gauzy robes of hers!
Come whence ye may, I marvel not That ye are lured to seek this spot; Your tenuous scarcely breathèd powers Sway not the sturdier garden flowers, And had unmanifest gone by Save that she feels them visibly.
O little winds, her little hands In time with tunes from fairy-lands Are moving; and her bended head Knows nothing of the long years sped Since heaven more near to earth was hung, And gods lived, and the world was young.
Her inner robe of tenderest fawn In cool, faint fountains of the dawn Was dyed; and her long outer dress Borrows its luminous loveliness From some clear bowl with water filled In which one drop of wine was spilled.