Ko Murofushi Archive 2025-2026 Vienna

An exhibition in a historic building in Vienna, where the world of Ko Murofushi unfolds. The very setting of the venue conveyed the foundation of the Ko Murofushi Archive.

Having performed in the austere and opulent Odeon Theatre, and having been on the world stage, Murofushi’s sensibility, always seeking deviation from the norm, was evident.

A magnificent Neo-Renaissance building stands on a main street where old and new intertwine. The exhibition takes place in its high-ceilinged foyer. Meanwhile, passing through a side archway into the passage, the exhibition appears in a tranquil courtyard café where time seems to stand still. It was a feeling of wandering into the very heart of Ko Murofushi’s sensibility and presence, his contemplation of the outside world, and being completely immersed in the open, mobile archive.

A quiet cafe with large, open windows reaching to the ceiling, accented by iron frames. The glass features the stylishly designed vertical lettering of “Faux Pas,” so large it’s difficult to read up close. Upon entering, the walls, stained and peeling with age, and the well-worn wooden floor evoke a sense of the past.

On the right-hand wall, large, enlarged images of Mr. Murofushi are printed in fragments on plain paper, pasted and plastered across the wall, creating a sense of precariousness and imperfection. It evokes Murofushi’s mummy-like skin, his sense of presence and non-existence.

On the left, a line of snapshots stretches out, paralleled by tablet devices displaying energetic and captivating stage footage from that era, drawing the viewer further inside. Along the way, photographs of Mr. Murofushi from the middle of his career are plastered across the wall, creating an enigmatic zone.

Beyond that, in the dimly lit, deep, and empty space, the lingering presence of people who once lived here remains. Heavy photobooks and books line the long table. And in a small, secluded room on the mezzanine level, accessed by stairs, a wealth of footage from Murofushi’s workshops in the latter half of his life is projected, allowing one to encounter his voice and words. It’s a place to fully experience Murofushi in the innermost room. Time flies by, and one becomes completely absorbed.

His deep use of language, his tendency to stray from the outside world, his unnamable sensibilities in his lifetime seemed to resonate with the war-torn wandering of this modern building and the imbalance of this interior, detached from the outside world.

An inexhaustible symposium: During this three-day symposium, researchers from Japan and other countries passionately discussed the legacy of Murofushi Ko and Hijikata Tatsumi. A fascinating time unfolded in the blink of an eye, the gallery staff were enthusiastic and the venue was always full, and the discussions continued both inside and outside the cafe after the event.

The speakers included the authors of “Anti-Dance: Choreography of Non-Action” and other familiar faces who had previously participated in symposiums at Shy. Those who had spoken with Murofushi Kou, and those who came to know him after his death, delved into Murofushi Kou’s world from their respective academic and professional perspectives. Their intellectual exploration felt almost like a dance of thought. However, this dance of thought drew upon and supported by philosophy, literature, science, history, and past experiences—all connected to Murofushi’s words and world—and the discussion unfolded from there.

Tokyo Dialogue Archive

In the first venue of the Murofushi Kou Archive Shy in Waseda, a dazzlingly luxurious foil-stamped poster catches the eye on the bookshelf. The windows are adorned with printed quotes from Mr. Murofushi, and the space is filled with flyers and other items that reveal glimpses of his favorites and aesthetic sensibilities. On the long table by the window, Mr. Murofushi’s collected materials, cards, and newspaper clippings are spread out.

These are notes, diaries, and clippings that, while Mr. Murofushi was alive, were written with such utmost sincerity, almost like an extension of himself. If they hadn’t been unearthed like this, they might have been thrown away and reduced to ashes. Mr. Murofushi, who was skilled in words and thought, had his daily notebooks and diaries carefully read and transcribed into books, allowing me to read them and encounter these various items while imagining what the deceased Mr. Murofushi was thinking.

And this archive, Shy, is a place where each of these remaining items is being unraveled. Even though I encountered them with this understanding while Mr. Murofushi was alive, I never heard the core of his thoughts, and now I can only speculate based on the words he left behind. And while I regret not being able to meet people who express such thoughts, I feel that I have no choice but to struggle on my own.

Shy’s events are what dispel such feelings of regret. They are always a great success. I am truly excited to participate. These two days were also stimulating. The two speakers, who also spoke in Vienna, each offered new perspectives. Mr. Hori, whose logical thinking about movement unfolded like a dance last time, began by closely examining Mr. Murofushi’s words and videos, and then deepened and broadened his perspective. Mr. Uno’s talk this time was truly moving, and it was an exciting read that makes me look forward to what he does next. Another female researcher from France also presented a brilliant perspective based on delicate and deep understanding, and I would like to hear more from her at length.

Even after it ended, it was a very meaningful time. Although my understanding is only moderate, being able to directly express what I thought is truly a wonderful and valuable experience. In the second venue, early stage photographs are randomly placed on the right, production notes for the stage are on the left, and in the center are photobooks and catalogs related to Butoh from Murofushi’s personal collection. A tablet displays a video of his work, and a large video by a filmmaker is projected onto the far wall.

To the left of that, Murofushi’s notebooks, writing implements, books, CDs, ashtray, and shoes are placed as if they were always there in his room, ready to be used at any time. It felt as if Murofushi himself could suddenly appear here, smiling shyly.

Touching an Unnamed Insinuation: Unlike the Vienna exhibition, this Tokyo exhibition not only allowed me to encounter Murofushi’s work and words, but also, as a viewer,

I felt a warm feeling, as if I were here encountering the sense of something Murofushi had done with such earnestness, and being allowed to touch upon that presence.

I believe this is something that Kimiko Watanabe, the organizer of this archive, naturally brings about. Murofushi described his encounter with Tatsumi Hijikata as an “experience of acquiring a dimension,” and wrote that it was “something unique to that person, something that was impossible to name.” I felt that Watanabe, too, continues her own journey with such experiences with Murofushi in her heart.

However, organizing and exhibiting Murofushi’s legacy and running the Shy archive requires tremendous energy. Watanabe has carried out this work with various collaborators. It truly seems to embody Murofushi’s idea that “the community opens outwards.”

The archive, opened outwards along with Murofushi’s words, moved to Vienna and then to Tokyo. Murofushi wrote, “I am movement,” but he continues, “Perhaps I am a passerby. I am also something that passes.” Through the exhibitions in Vienna and Tokyo, I felt that this archive truly exists as something to be passed on, as its name suggests. However, I want to understand this archive not as an intentional inheritance, but as a way in which what is touched is generated.

Mr. Murofushi then asks, “But what is being passed on, and what is being passed on?” I believe this archive was one answer to this question. This time, I realized that archives are not merely for storing records, but also have the potential to be opened and passed on.

Of course, this is not easy. It only comes into being when there are thoughts of the people being archived, and when there are people who perceive, promote, and connect those thoughts to creation. This time, I felt joy and encouragement at the realization that such possibilities truly exist.

The main venue was an old yet spacious facility with high ceilings, located on the ground floor in a lively part of the city, making it easily accessible to anyone. At the venue, organizers were always present to attend to visitors. On display were photographs capturing Ko Murobushi’s performances, numerous still images excerpted from performance films, video documentation of workshops led by Murobushi, as well as video works interwoven with interviews with the artist himself. In addition, I was drawn to performance posters from half a century ago, which are both historically valuable and highly regarded as works of art within the history of butoh. All of these allowed visitors to encounter the diverse activities of Murobushi and the unparalleled world of butoh that originated in Japan. The ingenuity of the exhibition—tasked with conveying the physical expression created by a now-deceased butoh dancer to viewers who had never seen his work—reflected the organizers’ strong dedication.

On the 27th, the day of my visit, marked the opening of an event that recreated, over several days in Vienna, the activities of the Tokyo-based archive “Shy.” An opening party welcoming visitors was held in the afternoon. Men and women of a wide range of ages gathered and dispersed in turn, exchanging opinions and impressions around the works. I also spoke with several attendees; not all visitors were necessarily familiar with Murobushi or butoh, and I had the impression that for many younger participants in particular, this may have been their first encounter with him. In any case, all seemed to be viewing the exhibition with great interest.

The 28th was the first day of a four-day gathering held in a format similar to the symposia irregularly organized by Shy in Tokyo. Four speakers, including two from Japan, presented from the perspectives of their respective research. While many in the audience appeared to be researchers interested in Murobushi from within their own fields, as with the opening party, members of the general public of all ages also listened attentively. This was likely the result of the organizers’ efforts to create an open and welcoming venue. At the reception following the symposium, lively exchanges of ideas continued.

The Symposium within the Exhibition on Ko Murobushi at the ImPulsTanz Festival 2025 was exciting and extremely valuable for me as a former member of Cie. Ariadone.

I found learning about the complexity of Ko Murobushi’s work through the many different perspectives of the speakers very interesting, and it broadened and deepened my own understanding of this exceptional artist. I was fortunate enough to attend all three days and listen to almost all of the speakers.

I first encountered Ko Murobushi over 40 years ago in Vienna, where I grew up and still live, through the Serapions theater. He and Carlotta Ikeda were my first and most important Butoh mentors.

The Serapions theater, which was initially located at Wallenstein platz and where I first experienced Ko Murobushi’s solo IKI, moved to the Odeon in 1988. Almost all of his guest performances in Vienna were shown there, so it felt perfectly natural to me that both the exhibition and the symposium took place there.

The entire atmosphere and the support for the speakers and guests were superbly organized and designed by Ms. Kimiko Watanabe, which ensured that everyone felt very comfortable. There was something for everyone: those who came primarily out of interest in the philosophers gained a deeper insight into this form of dance for the very first time; dancers were able to explore the philosophical aspects of Ko Murobushi’s work; those generally interested in the Japanese art world were simply amazed; and even for someone like me, who knew him personally and worked with him, the exhibition and symposium were not just a reminiscence, but an opportunity to expand, understand, and delve deeper into the subject matter.

It would be too much to write about each individual speaker here; however, the very last presentation, titled HEADLESS SOVEREIGNTY by Frédéric Pouillaude, was so outstanding that it cannot go unmentioned. It was a lecture-performance in its purest form—very intelligent and incisive, with profound content, yet also entertaining and highly accessible.

Although the program was very packed, there was still a little time to chat, reconnect with old acquaintances, and make new ones, which further enhanced the value of the symposium.

All in all, it was a very valuable experience for me, one I would not have wanted to miss, and I thank Ms. Watanabe from the bottom of my heart.