Hiroshima  mon amour -Un Coup de Don-


from Dossier

I want to talk once again about the things that are the core of Butoh. 
No, I want to talk about things that are impossible to talk about…and about impossible experiences.
I want to talk about things at my very depths that erode and collapse my thought when I start to think.
I want to talk about <emptiness> that are at my origins and endlessly empower me.


You start to dance about your silence with silence. About your burned, blackened dead body, about the sound whose sound vanished.
I cannot acquire the experience of Hiroshima because it is the experience of others, the experience of the outside.

But I will continue to talk about Hiroshima.
I will continue to talk about this emptiness that has no beginning and no end and already lies inside my core, with the power of the light of darkness.

June 29, 2011 Bordeaux
Ko Murobushi
for 《Un Coup de Don》



I was not born with the atomic bomb, and neither is it the source for my dance. I have been thorough more personal times of terror and desolation, so that I cannot even bring myself to remember them. I have known death, my own death. My ordeals have killed me many times and yet I am still alive…

My life? Am I not already dead? Am I not simply a ‘posthumous name’? but whose posthumous name would I be? A ghost of ‘myself’ or a spectre of another?

Besides, spectres are something which I have often encountered. I have even heard the footsteps of amputated legs and the moaning of lost voices belonging to my uncles who died in the atomic bomb.

In fact, it was the shock I felt watching the Alain Resnais and Marguerite Duras film Hiroshima, mon amour which introduced me to death. My dance was not born from the images of towns devastated by the atomic bomb, but instead from the more radical and violent experience of this film. (KO MUROBUSHI – 16TH JUNE 2011, PARIS)


I am once more seized by a desire to discuss what lies deep behind Butoh dance. Or rather, I want to discuss the impossibility of speaking, of the impossible experience. Discuss what it is that, at the very moment when I think, erodes my thought at its source, disintegrates it. Discuss this ‘nothingness’ which is my very foundation, which is still the source of my life.

Countless deaths, infinite time.

We are like that bank clerk transformed into shadow at Hiroshima.
We all live like that.
If we could see our bodies like that, there would be no need to dance.
The shadows of a man etched into the bank’s stone step as his body was destroyed by the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima.

Absolute experience.

Unfathomable silence at the heart of the experience.
Silence / Noise
try to remember.
Have we met?
Only uncertainty is certain.
The brilliant bombings of the B-29s, the oppressive beauty of tsunamis.
Dying while watching something beautiful.
Stupidity of the man killed while watching ‘that’
Cruel beauty.
Dance unable to dance.
Things which destroy themselves and destroy themselves again
You start dancing with your silence on the silence.

A dance evoking your corpse, your carbonized body.
A dance even of that sound which killed sound.

I will never know Hiroshima.
It will always be an outside experience, lived by others. And yet I keep talking about Hiroshima.

About that ‘nothingness’ without beginning or end, already deep inside myself, which shines with the light of darkness.

Ko Murobushi – Bordeaux, 29th June 2011

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