“That was the moment in my life when I realised, ‘this is why I became a geiko’.”A bell rings and the other geiko jump to their feet My time is up. “I want to promote the geiko lifestyle, to keep it alive in Japanese culture; because it’s one of the few things that has stayed in the culture through thick and thin. But Ikuko, swayed perhaps by nostalgia, waves her charges away.Times have changed, she admits, and not just in the effect on business of Japan’s lost decade “Clients don’t respect the art as much as they used to Before, the customers would really watch and really care .. They had an eye for what we were doing Now it’s not even close to that Talking to the customers is the hardest aspect today They are not as intelligent. No man would be ashamed of having a geiko as a girlfriend.”The key moment in Ikuko’s career was in 1980, when Onoue Kikugoro, one of Japan’s most famous Kabuki actors, invited her to dance with him at Tokyo’s National Theatre. She points to a picture on the wall of her much younger self, posing head to head with the actor, both in full make-up, she as beautiful as the young geiko in the room who have been gazing at her respectfully behind her back. I didn’t want to be too dependent on a man.” I wonder, though, whether those men were jealous of her many admirers. “Why would they be jealous? Geiko are people you can take anywhere and present to anyone Geiko are designed, almost, to be the ideal woman.
“I’ve had many boyfriends, but I’ve never wanted to get too distracted from my job. “It used to be that if there was not enough to eat, girls might enter the okiya, for one’s parents, for one’s siblings, for one’s household.” In any case, “by the time I went into it, it was for oneself”, and in fact she had to ask her parents’ permission.Soon after her training she moved to Tokyo, where she seems to have prospered – even without the danna, or patron, that many geiko seem to crave. Indeed, Ikuko has a sassiness that is in stark contrast to the characters of Memoirs of a Geisha, who are hopelessly dependent on a danna for their livelihoods.”There were times when a man wanted to become my danna, and would pay for a lot of performances every month. If that point in my life had been hard, then I might have accepted. But since I did not really need the money, I would rather be free, be independent, than to be tied down to someone. I’ve been lucky not to have one.”She has a similar attitude to boyfriends and husbands, both of which have been permitted in her time as a geiko. One day when I was 16 these two ladies were walking through the town, wearing beautiful kimono.
They were very glamorous for Kumamoto and I felt an instant longing. The very next day I went to the okiya, to become a geiko myself.”In his novel, Golden refers to parents selling their children to the okiya, but Ikuko describes it as a selfless act on the part of the child. And it is the dancing, the highlight of an evening, that can make a young geiko’s reputation.”I still can’t think of a better job to have,” says Ikuko, “than to entertain the most important people in the country – in the world, really, because I have entertained dignitaries from other countries; making them happy, having them applaud me when I have danced for them.”She recalls her first, and formative, glimpse of a geiko when she was still known by her real name, Murozono Kikuko “I was born in Kumamoto, near Nagasaki. Commonly, the onesan will play the three-stringed shamisen, while the maiko, the apprentice, dances. And they are a little bit looser.”It’s not difficult to guess what she means by that last comment.
That said, you can’t assume too much when speaking to a geiko. Not only does my interpreter tell me that my questions are not easily translated into Japanese, Ikuko admits that for geiko, “it is more important what not to say”. Language certainly plays a part in the perennial battle for their reputation: while geisha means “arts person” and geiko “arts child”, geisha have often tended towards a carnal interpretation of the word “art”.Geiko work in very specific and controlled environments – Kyoto’s famous teahouses, for example, or the traditional Japanese restaurants of Tokyo – where they are hired for an evening or part of an evening, to entertain businessmen and dignitaries. “They don’t get the training, they don’t have the full repertoire of skills; maybe they can dance a bit, but they’re not real.
