Dancers resemble puppets and the puppet controls the dancers. Bunraku master puppeteer Tamasuke Yoshida at turns represents the puppet as Mizoguchi, other performers onstage or Mishima himself. Onoe and Nakamura employ traditional, stylized kabuki patterns and forms in looping or mirrored interactions. The shamisen players (Takemoto Ensemble) strum and chant narrative cues from a cavernous alcove, composed by Shinji Tsuruzawa, traditional Japanese musician.

Arnal is an ever-present, enigmatic presence. Her live vocals repeatedly dazzle. Lyrics (in Spanish, Catalonian and Japanese) incorporate Sanskrit and Buddhist koans, allusions to Chinese poetry and quotes from Mishima’s works. Another highlight is Koh Suenaga, an 18-year-old Japanese pop idol who features as both an actor and contemporary dancer in the production. With these dual roles, Suenaga straddles the realms of performance, a sensitive expression of the many contradictions that scaffold the staging. 

His poignant manifestation of humanity’s endless drive to rebuild as he struggles to create using Kapla—popular European wooden blocks for construction—becomes an important symbolic motif that repeats throughout. When enfolded into the choreography, Suenaga also impresses, showcasing his skills as a dancer.

The overlapping sequences build in waves of despair and melancholy, yet somehow rise into a vibrant invocation of resilience. Judging by the multiple curtain calls and standing ovation, it seems destined to resurge on future stages. 

Overall, Morau’s “Kinkaku-ji" is an impressive achievement of cross-cultural art across time and space. Disdaining stereotypes, the production emerges as glitteringly new and profound, like the phoenix from the ashes, inspiring in it our relentless reconfigurations of being.