When looking at another culture it can be helpful to dissect that culture into the smaller pieces of which it is made in order to study the parts in greater detail. By analytically examining two Japanese art forms one can compare them in order to gain an understanding of the thoughts of the practitioners. Japanese linked poetry, Renga, and impressionistic theater, Noh, both aspire to the fullest expression of the concept of yugen.
    Yugen is an indirect symbolism or a way to intimate a meaning that is deep, profound, remote and not easily defined. The mea nings that are communicated through both noh and renga are tantamount to the vague, suggestive nature of yugen. This is possible because, although the two are very different media, they both use complicated, centuries-honed structures in which to contain the broad depth of meaning and emotion that is yugen. Both art forms are very strict in what is allowed and what is restricted, and these limitations are what make them so complex. It is because of their inherent complexity that the practices of renga and noh require a vast and comprehensive background on the structure and decorum held therein.
    In Noh theater, for example, there is one strict way in which the stage is set, and has been set for hundreds of years. In addition to that, there are exacting guidelines for the topics of the plays. There are exactly nine levels of proficiency which a Noh actor must master in order to be characterized as an actor who has reached the topmost level of perfection; or according to Zeami Motokiyo: “sublimity” (Zeami 55). From crudeness to exactness to the power of imperfection; an actor must understand the intent of the movements in order to surpass them and attain the “flower of the miraculous” (Zeami 61).
    The power of yugen is in its mystery. Because it is said to be remote, containing great depth, and practically beyond form, yugen must be studied, practiced, and understood before it can be imitated. All noh actors are taught to imitate, but truly powerful actors are the ones that imitate the intent and not the action caused by the intent. By imitating intent the actor conveys the intent as opposed to simply mugging or posing a surface level representation.
    It is also the actors’ responsibility to convey complicated, deep meaning in an entertaining fashion using simple stages, costumes and props. The most notable object seen on stage with the actor is the noh mask. The mask is usually made of carved wood, but carved in a manner so as to present different facial expressions. These expressions are created solely by the ability of the actor to hold his face to the correct angle. The simple costumes are typically representative of the clothing worn by the aristocratic class during the Heian period in Japan. But there is subtlety even in the costumes as their color, cut, and fashion of wearing are all indicative of the rank, status and even mood of the character wearing them. The stage props are always limited to a very essential representation of the actual object and are often reused in one play as different objects depending on their placement and the way in which they are interacted with by the characters. For example in the famous noh drama Izutsu, a very basic square shape made from four bamboo sticks and some shoots of grass is used as the top of a well and again in a later scene as a gravestone. The very simple form is used as an essential representation and without the dialogue the meaning would not be easily discernible–which is analogous to noh drama as a whole.
    Compared with the appearance of the stage and its actors, the part of noh which holds the most depth of meaning is the dialogue. Often phrases will be taken from known historical poetry–such as that in the Kokinshu–and used repeatedly in order to convey multiple meanings. The more obvious meanings usually is evident contextually, as in what is happening to the characters speaking right now. But there can also be much ambiguity of meaning when the stanza of poetry from which the line was taken is examined at length. Because so much of the dialog comes from mukashi mukashi (stories in the olden times), it follows that much of the meaning comes from those same old stories and poems. This is another aspect of how complicated and deep the noh can be.
    But noh theater is not the only means by which the Japanese display yugen. In renga, or linked verse poetry, there exists an entirely different way. Renga poetry is a type of poetry peculiar to Japan. It consists of a collection of short stanzas about a number of different topics–from a limited set–ranging from the weather, the seasons, flowers, love, and so on. These poems can also use lines from previous, famous poems to intertwine new threads of meaning. Renga poetry is very structured and the topics, like noh, are predetermined which again demand a vast knowledge of previous works of poetry. But unlike noh there are no actions with which to confuse the meaning of the words. This may make it seem that the meanings of renga are easier to understand, but the depth and power of words will not admit that. Beyond the understanding of previous poetry, and also the ability to find meaning in the stanzas alone, renga holds even further meaning within the connections between the stanzas as well as the direction the poems go when taken as a whole.
    This layering of meaning is very representative of Japanese culture and their society. Japan has a vertical social structure and so does renga poetry. A student may come to understand the direct meaning, but it takes an adept master to understand the metaphors held within. This depth of meaning, or yugen, can indeed be found if one is willing to study and seriously contemplate noh theater and renga poetry.