Dōjōji in Kabuki: Kiyohime’s Legend, the Bell, and the Art of Transformation
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A Great Test of the Onnagata’s Art
Spring has arrived at Dōjōji Temple in Kii. Cherry blossoms fill the grounds, and a great bronze bell hangs above the stage. A beautiful dancer named Hanako appears, asking permission to perform an offering of dance. Beneath her elegant gestures, however, something more troubling begins to stir.
Few works in the kabuki dance repertoire carry the prestige of Kyōganoko Musume Dōjōji. First performed by Nakamura Tomijūrō I in 1753, it has become one of the defining achievements of the onnagata, the actors who specialize in female roles. Its range makes it a formidable challenge: sustained control, stamina, musical sensitivity, and an ability to move between sharply different emotional registers are all essential.
Across its succession of dances, the performer evokes youthful delight, flirtation, longing, and the darker force of obsession. A ball-song dance, hand dances, the use of a small drum, and passages with bell-bearing props create a changing landscape of rhythm and gesture. The audience watches a single body carry an entire sequence of moods.
The beauty of the onnagata lies in a highly developed theatrical language. A measured step, the line of a shoulder, the angle of a sleeve, and the glance beneath carefully applied makeup combine to create a character through stylization. Hanako’s eboshi cap and elaborate costume recall the shirabyōshi, dancers associated with medieval performance traditions. Her appearance opens a space between recognizable human feeling and the dreamlike world of the stage.

Anchin and Kiyohime: From Legend to Performance
Behind the brilliance of Musume Dōjōji lies the unsettling story of Anchin and Kiyohime. Versions of the tale appear in medieval Buddhist story collections, including the Hokke Genki and Konjaku Monogatari-shū.
In the familiar telling, Anchin is a young monk traveling on pilgrimage to Kumano. Kiyohime falls in love with him during his stay at her household. Hoping to escape her pursuit, he promises to return after his pilgrimage, then breaks that promise. When she discovers the deception, she follows him relentlessly.
As her grief hardens into anger, Kiyohime crosses the Hidaka River and becomes a great serpent. Anchin seeks shelter at Dōjōji, where the monks hide him beneath a lowered bell. The serpent coils around it and breathes fire, killing the monk inside. The bell becomes the terrible meeting point of desire, betrayal, and destruction.
In the Noh play Dōjōji, the story returns through a dancer who appears at a ceremony for a new bell. Her identity emerges through the fall of the bell and the monks’ confrontation with a serpent spirit. Kabuki takes this inheritance in a different direction. The underlying danger remains, but it is carried through an extended display of dance, dazzling costume, and the many changing faces of a woman in love.
The Buddhist storytelling tradition also offers a path beyond the catastrophe. In the Hokke Genki version, the suffering beings receive release through the merit of the Lotus Sutra. Seen against that background, the legend concerns more than punishment for desire: it also asks whether even deeply troubled souls can be reached by compassion. This religious context gives the theatrical beauty a quieter, more solemn depth.

Ranbyōshi and Hikinuki: Tension and Sudden Color
One of the work’s most striking passages is ranbyōshi, which preserves a connection to Noh. Deliberate movement and carefully held pauses make the smallest action feel significant. A lifted foot, a shift in balance, or the moment before a step can draw the audience into an unusually concentrated kind of attention.
The effect depends on the relationship between movement, music, and silence. Hanako’s composure seems almost motionless, yet the audience senses emotion gathering beneath it. Rather than explaining that emotion in words, the performer lets rhythm and the body give it shape.
That restraint makes the later changes of pace and color still more arresting. Kabuki’s hikinuki technique allows an outer costume to be removed in full view, revealing another layer underneath. Stage assistants release the prepared fastening threads, and the dancer’s appearance changes with astonishing speed.
These transformations are carefully built theatrical effects. Contrasting colors and patterns can shift the mood of a passage as decisively as a change in the music. The audience experiences a new visual world without losing the continuity of the dance or the character.
Props add further variety. A fan can suggest modesty or longing; a hand towel lends itself to lighter gestures; a flower hat changes the silhouette. The kakko, a small drum, and bell-bearing percussion props bring their own patterns of movement and sound. Together they make the performance feel like a sequence of unfolding pictures. They also recall the long relationship between dance, offering, and sacred ceremony in Japanese performance.

The Bell and the Serpent: Emotion Made Visible
The bell never becomes an ordinary piece of scenery. Its weight, its position above the performer, and its association with the old legend give it a presence throughout the dance. As the ending approaches, the concealed danger gathers around it.
The climactic movement toward and into the bell—kaneiri—brings the legend sharply back into view. Exact staging varies between works and productions, but the transformation into a serpent figure reveals the force that has been hidden beneath Hanako’s beauty. A costume with scale-like patterns, a changed posture, or the dancer’s appearance above the bell can turn elegance into something fierce and uncanny.
The figure is frightening, yet the performance does more than show a monster. It gives visible form to emotions that have exceeded the limits of ordinary speech: love, wounded trust, anger, and a longing that cannot be resolved. The formal precision of kabuki allows those feelings to become art without reducing their intensity.
Great onnagata, including Nakamura Utaemon VI and Bandō Tamasaburō, have brought distinct interpretations to this demanding work. Each performance must find its own balance between delicacy and power, poised stillness and sudden movement. That balance helps explain why Musume Dōjōji continues to hold audiences: a centuries-old legend becomes immediate through the living presence of the dancer.
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Related Reading
Kumadori in Kabuki: The Colors of Heroes and Villains, from Ichikawa Danjuro I to Edo’s Superheroes
References and Further Reading
- 渡辺保『娘道成寺』駸々堂出版、1981年
- 郡司正勝『かぶき様式論』東京大学出版会、1954年
- 河竹登志夫『歌舞伎――美とからくり』岩波新書、2004年
- 小笠原恭子『道成寺考』平凡社、1988年
- 松井今朝子『歌舞伎の手帖』新潮選書、2006年
Japan Arts Council: Kyōganoko Musume Dōjōji; Kabuki-bito: reading dance through costume patterns.
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