Bon Odori: The Obon Festival Dances That Couldn't Be Banned

In August, the Japanese dance for the dead.

No, it’s not a goth thing - no black lipstick, skulls or Bauhaus soundtracks. But then again, Obon isn't your typical summer festival in Japan.

Yes, there are paper lanterns, taiko drums and syrupy shaved ice. But beneath the lanterns and festival fizz lies something more poignant: a homecoming for the dead and a family reunion that lifts the veil between this world and the next.

When to Celebrate Obon? It Depends

One of the three major holiday seasons in Japan alongside New Year and Golden Week, Obon is a time for family.

People return to their hometowns - this is a peak period for domestic and international travel - pay their respects at family graves and join in Obon celebrations such as dances.

A time when ancestral spirits are believed to visit the living, the Obon festival has among its origins the Buddhist festival of Ullambana and the story of Maha Maudgalyayana, one of the Buddha's chief disciples.

Known for his psychic powers, Maudgalyayana found his deceased mother suffering in the afterlife. He sought help from the Buddha, who told him to make offerings to Buddhist monks, particularly on the 15th day of the 7th month after their summer retreat.

Following this guidance, the disciple was able to ease his mother's suffering. He danced with joy - an act said to have inspired the Bon festival dances, or Bon odori.

Traditionally, Obon was celebrated on the 15th day of the seventh month of the lunar calendar. With the switch to the Gregorian solar calendar, some regions such as Tokyo and Kanagawa prefecture decided to mark Obon from July 13 to 16 (shichigatsu bon, or Seventh Month Bon).

But hachigatsu bon, which is observed from August 13 to 16 and corresponds more closely to the old festival period, is more common.

No matter the date, it’s a soulful yet joyful time for the living and the dead to share a moment.

The Welcoming Committee: Cucumber Horses and Eggplant Oxen

To guide the ancestors back, fires are lit or paper lanterns hung at the door - rather like GPS with otherworldly coverage.

Families prepare welcoming altars (shoryo dana) with offerings including flowers, incense, fruit and sweets.

Also on many altars are shoryo uma: seasonal produce repurposed as Uber for the underworld. Sticks are inserted into cucumbers to create spirit horses that the ancestors can ride for a swift return to this world.

Eggplant oxen are provided for the way back. By offering a slower means of transport, we let the spirits know that we're not trying to show them the door. Besides, no Japanese holiday is complete without souvenirs - with the oxen's wide backs, the ancestors can take plenty of omiyage with them.

Obon Festival Dances: Let the Spirits See You Sweat

Performed in parks, shrines or temple grounds to welcome the spirits, the Bon odori dance is also a communal act of remembrance.

In different regions of Japan, the movements vary to reflect local life and work, from sowing seeds to shoveling coal and weaving silk.

The dances range from solemn to cheerfully aerobic, with participants circling a yagura platform as Japanese taiko drums thump out ancient rhythms.

In places like Gujo Hachiman in Gifu, the dancing goes on for days and nights. Yes, there's an all-night dance marathon. No, sleep is not an option. The ancestors didn't come all this way for you to flake out before sunrise.

A Short History of Bon Odori

Combining music with dance and Buddhist chanting, the ecstatic nembutsu odori performed by 13th-century monk Ippen and his followers became popularized as furyu dances across the country.

These dances in which people dressed up in eccentric costumes came to be included among the Obon offerings to one's ancestors during the Muromachi period (1336-1573).

Bon odori became so popular that the authorities in the Edo era (1603-1868), fearing that these large gatherings would turn into uprisings, imposed restrictions on when and where they could be held.

By this time, the dances had become more of a communal pleasure than a religious observance. And this, to some, was the problem.

About 150 years ago, the Meiji government issued a nationwide ban on Bon odori. Among the things found objectionable:
- men and women partying together till late at night
- dressing up in outlandish attire to attract attention
- flashy make-up.

From this we can deduce that traditional bon odori was a kind of pre-modern Tinder app, with a different kind of dancing conducted in the darkness if both parties swiped to the right.

All this was not appropriate for a nation aiming to modernize, the Meiji authorities thundered. (To all countries with citizens who dress up, wear heavy make-up and party into the night: turn in your Modern Nation Badges now.)

But the Obon dances were too loved to disappear and, with some concessions, they eventually made a comeback.

Bon Odori: Watch or Join In?

Depending on the region and its customs, bon odori can lean more towards performance or communal rite.

The Awa Odori festival in Tokushima is loud, lively and inclusive. Bystanders are urged to join in with this classic line: 'You're a fool if you watch and a fool if you dance. Either way you're a fool, so why not dance?'

Traditional bon odori festivals Gujo Odori in Gifu and Hokkai Bon Odori in Hokkaido also encourage people to take part, attracting many out-of-town visitors determined to do just that.

The Nishimonai Bon Odori in Akita, known for the dancers' colorful patchwork kimonos and black cloth masks, is more of a performance, enchanting visitors with its solemn grace and elegant movements.

If you're not sure whether or not you may join the dancers, just take your cue from those around you.

The Warlord Who Danced Not Too Wisely But Too Well

Every Obon has its dancers. But not every dancer loses a castle.

By any standard, 16th-century samurai Hyozu Genroku was a bit player in the age of civil war known as the Warring States Period. But he did fight bravely and the defenses of his castle were strong.

So when Kamei Korenori, the lord of a nearby fief, was ordered to take Konkono Castle, he did some competitive profiling first.

He found out that Genroku was a huge fan of festivals and dancing so he arranged for a Bon odori to be held outside the castle, going so far as to create a new dance to lure Genroku out.

Unlikely as it sounds, it actually worked. Hearing the flutes and drums, Genroku hurried down from the castle to join in the rave.

There's a saying that, if a lord loves to dance, then so do his vassals. Unfortunately for Genroku, this proved to be true - his men streamed out after him, leaving the castle undefended.

This was exactly what his opponent had been waiting for. His forces swooped in, seizing the moment and the castle.

Genroku and his retainers disappeared from the scene, possibly out of embarrassment.

The dance inspired by this incident, Kamei Odori, is still performed today in Tottori prefecture. It’s a fitting tribute to the power of dance - even when it’s weaponized.

A Festival of Life (with a Bit of Death on the Side)

Blending reverence with revelry, the Obon festival is one of Japan’s most deeply felt observances. As a time to remember and reconnect, it's a festival to guide those in this world as well as souls in the next.

So heed the call of the flutes and drums should you happen to be in Japan during Obon. Drop your inhibitions, live in the moment and join the dance for the dead.

 

Written by Janice Tay