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Wish Come True

The Japan Society continued its Yukio Mishima Centennial Series with a newly commissioned dance work titled “The Seven Bridges (Hashi-zukushi)” based on Yukio Mishima’s short story by that name originally published in 1956. This playful, entertaining dance piece, geared toward family audiences, was a purposeful shift in programming—away from the usual sharp-edged seriousness of Mishima’s themes—to offer another side of his oeuvre. I was delighted to see this clever and current choreographic adaptation by the talented Takuro Suzuki performed by the very capable dancers of CHAiroiPLIN (a play on Charlie Chaplin’s name and the Japanese word chairoi, meaning brown). Suzuki was the perfect choice for realizing this project as he has a singular passion and skill for converting great literature into well-crafted dance works for audiences of all ages, which he does through a performance series called “Dancing Literature.”

Performance

“The Seven Bridges (Hashi-zukushi)” by Takuro Suzuki, performed by CHAiroiPLIN

Place

Japan Society, New York, NY, November 2025

Words

Karen Greenspan

CHAiroiPLIN in “The Seven Bridges (Hashi-zukushi)” by Takuro Suzuki. Photograph by Richard Termine

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Mishima’s humorous short story takes place in the downtown Tokyo pleasure district and follows four geishas—Koyumi, Kanako, Masako, and Mina (Masako’s maidservant brought along as an afterthought). The four undertake a silent pilgrimage of crossing seven bridges along the Tsukiji River under a full moon. According to a superstition, whoever can accomplish this quest in total silence without turning back will have their wish granted. The women meet with distractions and mishaps that increasingly challenge their success. 

Entering the theater, the stage was fully in view and set up with a toy train and track meandering around the circumference of the stage—like in a child’s playroom. Model bridges and other Tokyo landmarks made of Lego-like building toys punctuated the playscape and a large, autumnal moon projected onto the backdrop hung over the miniature city. The loud blast of a whistle signaled Takuro Suzuki’s attention-grabbing entrance dressed as a train conductor dancing a high-octane hip hop solo. (The choreographer is also a deft dancer.) As the toy train powered up and began to move, the conductor followed its route narrating the landmarks and performing slick moves to mark each of the bridges. Meanwhile, Yuri Shimizu (also responsible for the original music), dressed in a black pantsuit topped with a large moon headdress, personified the autumn moon as she revolved slowly in place in an upstage corner.  

Seven dancers in crisp, white pantsuits entered dancing a kind of drill team routine—but with prayer gestures, bowing, pulsing, and twisting, as they chanted “wish come true.” The group fanned out through the space, with the vocals announcing the hoped for wishes. The moon character circulated in the background providing percussion with a woodblock instrument that made the clopping sound of the geishas’ wooden sandals. Eventually, only four dancers (the geishas) in their white pantsuits remained onstage seated and bouncing on a row of black metal folding chairs as if they were riding the train to the first bridge.

CHAiroiPLIN in “The Seven Bridges (Hashi-zukushi)” by Takuro Suzuki. Photograph by Richard Termine

In no time, the other members of the cast returned dressed as train attendants blowing their whistles, bringing out a multitude of chairs, creating quite a ruckus as they arranged and rearranged them in long rows crisscrossing the stage. The geisha quartet were meanwhile performing a slick chair dance until the conductor announced the stop for the first bridge. After mounting the chairs, the four women gingerly walked upon them crossing the breadth of the stage as if traversing a rickety bridge. The train attendants reappeared and immediately cleared the chairs as soon as the geisha had stepped off them, quickly changing the scene. 

As the conductor announced the second bridge, the geishas launched into an energetic quartet of walking patterns along various diagonals ingeniously set to a galvanizing mix of all-female, Bulgarian vocals. The musical choice intensified the aura of confidence and excitement at the outset of the group’s endeavor. 

But as the journey continued, each geisha fell victim to some mishap. Kanako was the first to succumb. As group stepped onto the next bridge (a new line-up of chairs), Kanako dropped out of the procession doubled over with stomach cramps—distinctly mimed within the choreography. After a fantasy duet with her dream of a wealthy patron, Kanako ran off, clutching her midriff. Next to go was Koyumi. On another bridge, she encountered a former acquaintance who insisted on a conversation. Unable to dodge the interaction, Koyumi broke the vow of silence and was disqualified from the journey. 

CHAiroiPLIN in “The Seven Bridges (Hashi-zukushi)” by Takuro Suzuki. Photograph by Richard Termine

Masako, with her dreams for a husband, sat on a bench with her maidservant Mina. Masako’s fantasy suitor appeared (a dancer in a white formal suit) and sat down between the two women. He and Masako dance-mimed an endearing duet, culminating in his marriage proposal on one knee. Mina, obviously the odd one out, sat indifferently, yawning with boredom. 

The daydream came to an end as the conductor announced the seventh bridge, and the stage was cleared of all but one chair. A tense face-off between the two final geishas ensued over who would be the first to cross the bridge and have her wish granted. This was not actually part of Mishima’s story. But it was an inventive choice and brilliantly staged as a rowdy contest of musical chairs to the rambunctious Balkan music of Emir Kusturica & The No Smoking Orchestra. In the final moments, Masako twisted her ankle and accidentally screamed, leaving Mina to take her seat on the single chair in a drawn out, very slow-motion squat. 

This creative and exhilarating production offered a unique amalgamation of Eastern and Western artistic styles and cultural expressions. It certainly touched my inner child. I only wish I had brought a little person to share it with.

Karen Greenspan


Karen Greenspan is a New York City-based dance journalist and frequent contributor to Natural History Magazine, Dance Tabs, Ballet Review, and Tricycle among other publications. She is also the author of Footfalls from the Land of Happiness: A Journey into the Dances of Bhutan, published in 2019.

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