Although there are dance types in Japan where movement is unaccompanied by song, dance to song comprises a major part of the various traditions of dance in its classical theaters and is widely found in the countryside as well. In some cases, of course, song includes meaningless words, or the voice is used like an instrument, simply to provide a musical element or beat to which to dance. But it has seemed to me that a unique aesthetic underlies a full appreciation of dance to song. What I have in mind is an associational process in operation when the movement of a dance is seen while one simultaneously hears and understands the verbal meaning of its song.

It may be true that since Japanese is not my native language I directed more attention, while watching dance of this sort, to the meaning of the song than a native speaker might.

In the northeastern part of the main island of Japan at the temple of Mōtsuji, documents survive which show notational practices used to preserve the choreography of dances performed there as part of the Buddhist ceremony of Ennen. I have discussed the Ennen of Mōtsuji in the section called “Ennen: Dance to a Buddhist Text” in my article on “Dance to Song in Japan” and would like to explore here the records of some of its dances since they exemplify a notational concept specially appropriate to the documentation of a tradition of dance to song.

According to Professor Honda Yasuji of Waseda University in his book Ennen the original documents date to the early part of the nineteenth century, although some go back to the middle of the eighteenth century, and one item contains elements which date to 1706. The dances themselves, however, go back much further. With a few exceptions, the diagrams published in Ennen are Honda's own drawings based on the older material preserved by various priestly families associated with the temple and the performances which are part of the Buddhist ceremony there.

In addition to reproducing these historical records, Honda has made his own annotations to document the choreography of dances which he saw performed at the temple, giving a brief verbal description of the dancer's movements for each section of the song. Full texts of the songs and his movement annotations of dances of the sort described in “Dance to Song in Japan” can be found in Ennen; in addition, there are texts, meant to be sung, of four plays in which danced sections served as climaxes. Of these, the one with the earliest date is that of 1761; another, though undated, appears to be even older. The diagrams for movement in certain sections of the play Ominaeshi, which are reproduced and explained here together with a translation, are preserved in two documents. The one in the Hakuōin collection is dated 1822.

In a society which judged the culture of its members less by the building of cities than by the transforming influence of writing, it is not unexpected to find that written dance notation is of a high quality. And, when it is further understood that the writing of this society is, itself, a form of line drawing, one is not surprised to find that excellent and accurate line drawings accompany the written text.

This is as true for dance description in present-day revolutionary China as it was in traditional China where the accuracy and complete documentation of Ming dynasty (1378–1644) ritual dance anticipated and exceeded Western efforts in this area. Although historical records suggest that dance notations in China may have existed as early as in the first millenium B.C., they appear to have been destroyed by the book-burning Emperor Shih Huang-ti at the end of the third century B.C. In other instances like those of the T'ang dynasty dance tablatures found in the caves of Tun-huang, the notations have not yet been adequately deciphered; thus, fully-documented rituals in China are best known to us from a period of time (circa. 1600), not far in years from the notes made regarding the famed Ballet Comique de la Reine or Arbeau's Orchésographie

One observes in the Ming dynasty records that movements were illustrated as well as described, the descriptions tending to be terse while the illustrations were more complete. In fact, the dance is better understood by studying the complete picture sequence than by following the characters. (Figures 1 and 2 are examples of two movements in sequence as shown in notation of Ming dynasty ritual dance). Regarding the translation of the characters that are found on the illustrations, Figs. 1 and 2: the vertical characters are essentially numerical, roughly equivalant to saying in English, “index number 5 and index number 6.” The larger characters, which are read horizontally from right to left, are descriptive in general terms only, and require a study of the drawings in sequence to be fully understood.

This paper represents an attempt to raise three points with regard to the study of dance and social anthropology. First, I have stressed the importance of an anthropological perspective in contrast to other perspectives in connection with ethnographies of dance. Second, I have briefly outlined a few ontological and epistemological implications of treating social anthropology itself as a language-based, rather than as a Behavioural science. Third, I have only barely indicated the epistemological consequences involved in accepting the idea of a personal anthropology.

In fact, it is the latter point which suffers most from the following brief treatment, for while the subject matter for a deeper analysis is present in this essay (i.e. the parts of texts of articles written before I read anthropology), it has mainly been subjected to a fairly standard anthropological critique. There are those who might say that this could have been done without the benefit of the idea of a personal anthropology.

Nihon Buyō is the most recent form of Japanese classical art dance. Literally, Nihon means “Japanese” and buyō means “dance.” It developed as part of Kabuki, a theatrical blend of dance, drama, and music, dating from the seventeenth century. It is currently seen on the Kabuki stage as an integral part of the drama or in separate dance concerts, recitals, and entertainments. In performances off the Kabuki stage, the dances may be taken from the plays without any changes in the choreography. Or they may be the same but performed with modifications, as for example, a duet adapted as a solo. Also dances created in this style but originally meant to be viewed as separate entities, rather than as part of Kabuki, are seen more and more often today. These dances are known collectively as Nihon Buyō, or frequently just as Buyō. It is a style of dance considered to be essentially of the Edo period (1615–1867), and is continuing to evolve in the context of contemporary Japanese culture.

As Russian ballet has become more important as a subject of historical inquiry, western scholars have become increasingly aware of the need to consult the rich bibliography of appropriate source material in the Russian language. Of all the eras addressed in this extensive literature, the late imperial period has quite understandably cast the most powerful spell over us. It was then, of course, that Tchaikovsky's music, Petipa's choreography, and the artistry of many still-remembered ballerinas first graced the stage. Like ourselves, the contemporaries of that period were conscious of the wealth of talent around them and sought to record their impressions of it. As witness to this we have the histories of Konstantin Skalkovsky, Alexander Pleshchejev and Sergei Khudekov, to name but three. More impressive than any of these works and a reference that their authors used, is the monumental Yearbook of the Imperial Theaters [Ezhegodnik Imperatorskikh Teatrov] —unquestionably the richest single source of information concerning the late imperial stage. In the following pages I shall describe this periodical and point out its value to ballet historians.