Plaudits overdue for hard-working highfliers

When Koki Naya received the name "Taiho" from his stable master, he thought it was taiho, the Japanese word for cannon. Even when he was told the origin of the name, it was gibberish to him, Naya recalled.

The name Taiho, which refers to a Chinese mythological bird of giant size, eventually went down in postwar sumo history as the ring name of one of the greatest yokozuna of the Showa Era (1926-1989).

Naya, the 69-year-old former yokozuna Taiho, has been declared a person of cultural merit.

I am surprised that he is the first person to receive the honor from the sumo world, which has a long history, but I think no one deserves it more than him. I was a mischievous boy when Taiho was yokozuna. Whenever we played sumo in the sandbox, all the boys wanted to call themselves Taiho.

His landmark record of winning 32 championships was a result of hard work; he is said to have practiced "five times more than others." Sumo wrestlers these days are not practicing enough, Naya harshly points out.

Such a lack of devotion overlaps with the fuss made over vacuous show business personalities who call themselves entertainers just because they appear on television, despite the fact they lack artistic accomplishments, according to Naya.

The comment hits me where it hurts. I, too, must work harder to become a good writer.

Unlike such ordinary people, Katsura Beicho, 83, who will be receiving the Order of Culture, has worked hard to polish his skills as a rakugo comic storyteller.

The fact that Beicho is also the first to receive the order from the rakugo world shows how the art of storytelling had been placed in an unduly low position. Be that as it may, no one would dispute that he deserves the honor as a leading figure in rakugo.

Beicho rebuilt kamigata Osaka-based rakugo after World War II, when it was said to be on the brink of extinction.

Once, when I had the chance to listen to his performance, laughter rose from the audience as if all those in attendance were struck by his finely honed storytelling. The laughter was completely different from that heard at television variety shows, which cause people to laugh as if their diaphragms are going into a spasm.

"When the audience and the performer become one in a good atmosphere, that is where true rakugo exists. And when it ends, rakugo disappears with it," says Beicho.

Rakugo storytellers devote themselves to that moment, according to the master storyteller. Sumo shares something in common with rakugo in that respect.

The two men are magnificent flowers that bloomed along the roads of art and sports.

--The Asahi Shimbun, Oct. 29(IHT/Asahi: October 30,2009)