Japan serves as a sensory tapestry for the touring artist-a landscape defined by immaculate scenery, deep-rooted heritage, and a culinary tradition that borders on the spiritual. For Shen Yun Performing Arts, the annual return to the Land of the Rising Sun is a highlight of the season. Yet, for Principal Dancer Kenji Kobayashi, the journey carries a deeper resonance. It is a return to the source.
Joining the company in 2010, Kobayashi has spent over a decade refining his craft on global stages, culminating in a gold medal at the 2016 New Tang Dynasty Television’s International Classical Chinese Dance Competition. But when the tour touches down in Tokyo, the world’s most populous metropolis transforms for him. Amidst the neon and the rush, he finds a paradoxical calm-the grounding quietude of simply being home.
The Art of Imperfection
While classical Chinese dance often emphasizes ethereal grace and heroic stature, Kobayashi finds his most compelling artistic voice in the exploration of character flaws. His portrayal of Pigsy (Zhu Bajie) from the literary classic Journey to the West stands as a testament to this versatility.
Pigsy is a study in contradictions: a deity cast down to earth, defined by gluttony, laziness, and lust, yet undeniably lovable. Portraying such a cultural icon-a figure as familiar to Asian audiences as the Monkey King-requires more than technical proficiency; it demands a total physical transformation. The challenge lies in the nuance. To play a “goofball” effectively is serious business.
Kobayashi constructs the character from the ground up, distilling Pigsy’s essence into a signature waddle-stomach protruding, center of gravity shifted. It is a performance of calculated lethargy. Whether he is feigning sleep to avoid a battle or sprinting away from demons (adhering to the character’s pragmatic motto: “If you can’t beat them, outrun them”), every movement must strike a balance between the mythological and the human.
The Method in the Madness
The immersion required to animate Pigsy often bleeds into the dancer’s reality. Kobayashi admits to a form of method acting where he adopts the character’s sensory habits off-stage-imagining how the gluttonous deity would eat, drink, or react to joy and sorrow.
This dissolution of boundaries allows for a seamless transition under the spotlight. He does not merely “act” like the character; he inhabits the role of the disciple who is perpetually tricked by Monkey or beguiled by the Moon Goddess, Chang’e. However, this dedication comes with professional hazards. After years of inhabiting the role, Kobayashi notes that Pigsy’s lethargic gait occasionally infiltrates his daily walk or, more perilously, the choreography of other, more noble characters. The discipline of the dancer is thus tasked with containing the chaos of the character.
A Visual and Culinary Palate
When the curtain falls, Kobayashi shifts his focus from the internal world of character study to the external world of observation. He is an avid photographer, using his time on tour to document the environments he visits. His photography, much like his dance, seeks to capture moments of stillness and beauty, as seen in his striking captures of Mount Fuji.
This appreciation for sensory detail extends to his culinary rituals back home. The rigors of training are fueled by bananas for immediate energy, but his soul is fed by the rich textures of Japanese cuisine: tsukemen (dipping noodles), the dense umami of tonkotsu or gyokai ramen broths, and the precision of grilled Kobe beef.
Whether navigating the complex rhythms of a comedic role like Monkey Battles Warlock or framing a landscape through a camera lens, Kobayashi operates in a space of heightened awareness. He balances the discipline of a principal dancer with the playfulness of a folklore anti-hero, ensuring that while Pigsy may always be looking for a shortcut, the artist portraying him never takes one.
