The critically acclaimed and award winning play Our Cosmic Dust is currently making its English debut at the Park Theatre, running up to July 5th, 2025. Written by Michinari Ozawa and translated by Susan Momoko Hingley, the play is a masterful exploration of grief, innocence and perseverance. However, in today’s article we want to focus on what’s perhaps one of its most eye-catching details: its presentation. Our Cosmic Dust makes the unique stylistic choice of blending Japanese puppetry with LED display technology. The result is a play that feels simultaneously familiar and yet, completely new. A breath of fresh air that vividly conveys a beautiful story and message
If you’re anything like Michinari Ozawa, you might find yourself asking: why puppets? Why LED display technology? And indeed, these are questions Ozawa has made himself while working on Our Cosmic Dust. His original vision for the play was, as he said in an interview, to experiment with these “two polar opposite forms.” The prospect of which was a journey into the unknown, one which made enticing promises, but didn’t guarantee anything else. It was only after thinking it through, researching and brainstorming, that Michinari Ozawa arrived at the expansive tale that became Our Cosmic Dust. Keep reading if you want to know how he reached it.
An introduction to Japanese Puppetry
Following in Michinari Ozawa’s footsteps, the first thing we need to look at is the rich theatrical tradition of Japanese Puppetry. There are several differences between Western and Japanese puppetry, but perhaps the most relevant to Ozawa’s play are the visibility of the puppeteers and the complexity of the puppets themselves. In western puppetry the puppets can be complex, but generally range from simple hand puppets to elaborate marionettes. On the visibility side of things, puppeteers are typically hidden from view, though this can vary.
Japanese puppetry, on the other hand, has much more defined lines when it comes to its use of puppets and puppeteers. These guidelines are, crucially, of philosophical interest to Michinari Ozawa, as he would directly tackle them with Our Cosmic Dust. Of course, these lines varied depending on the theatrical tradition, which is what we’re going to be discussing now.
Bunraku Puppetry
Image credit: Japan Objects
Originally founded in Osaka around the 17th century (Edo period), Bunraku is a theatrical tradition still regularly practiced to this day. Bunraku consists of mixing narratively gripping stories with accompanying music of a shamisen and, of course, a puppet show. The puppets themselves are very intricate, being one-half life-sized, and capable of remarkably realistic facial expressions. This is all thanks to how beautifully and well crafted they are, with mechanisms designed for their eyeballs, eyebrows, limbs and more.
As for the puppeteers, their task significantly varies depending on the importance of the puppet to the story. Minor characters can be maneuvered by a single puppeteer, but the rest usually require three to do so. This three-person system operates with a distinct hierarchy: the main puppeteer (omozukai) controls the head and right hand, the second puppeteer (hidarizukai) acts as the puppet’s left hand, and finally the third puppeteer (ashizukai) operates the legs and feet.
If you’ve never seen a bunraku show before, you might wonder how the performers stay hidden. Truth is, they don’t. The performers are visible at all times, but they use black clothes to symbolize they are to be taken invisible. And it’s this contract between public and artists, which Michinari Ozawa finds particularly compelling.
Karakuri
The second Japanese puppetry tradition we will discuss is Karakuri, which stands for automaton or hidden mechanism. These puppets operate with a complexity different from, yet equally intricate as, that of Bunraku. Inspired by Noh theatre, the main appeal of Karakuri is their inner mechanism, which uses a clockwork-like design. Their inner workings are fascinating in themselves, as they evoke a sense of awe in how they’re able to work at all.
The uses for the puppets can vary widely depending on the type. Some, like Butai karakuri, are life-size puppets used in some public performances and theatre. The most common, however, are small puppets used for private use, which perform tasks like dancing, serving tea or sake. Nevertheless, their capability of complex, often lifelike, movement remains their most intriguing aspect.
Karakuri is interesting, from a philosophical point of view, as it blends the line between puppet and robot. On one hand, they don’t need a human guiding its movement, as its clockwork mechanism already does it in a fascinating way. On the other, it is a puppet in the sense that, if no one touches it, it will forever remain still. And this, once again, was of interest to Ozawa when researching for Our Cosmic Dust.
What Michinari Ozawa Rescues
After jumping into the unknown with his proposal, and then swimming across the vast lake that is Japanese puppetry, Michinari Ozawa realized something. Now, I’ll let his own words spell that realization out: “a puppet cannot move unless touched by someone.” Every puppet needs, quite literally, a guiding hand. It needs someone to be there for them, otherwise, it crumbles and ceases its movement. And, as a famous Latin American song said, “If you want something to die, leave it still.”
In more than one way, Michinari Ozawa knew that this was true for us, regular people, too. We need people around us to help us keep going forward. This is but one of the many reasons why, in Our Cosmic Dust, only the protagonist is a puppet, as the rest of the cast are played by regular actors. The character, as presented in the beginning of the play, is lost, and with his status as a puppet we’re constantly reminded he is quite literally being moved towards new destinations. Here, Ozawa takes the contract found in Bunraku, where puppeteers are visually present yet symbolically invisible, and flips it on its heads. The protagonist is a puppet, and it matters all the more because of it.
With these being said, what about LED display technology? How does that benefit puppetry?
LED, Technology Meets Tradition
Image Credit: Photography by Pamela Raith
From an aesthetic point of view, Michinari Ozawa was heavily incentivized to use some form of technology in Our Cosmic Dust. The play, after all, tells the story of a child exploring the cosmos, where imagination and ambience are one and the same. Just think about it, the rich imagination of a child running wild as he encounters the ever-expanding wonders of space. In other words, the play’s storytelling ambitions required its presentation to be visually thrilling and evocative. However, this is where we return to what makes Michinari Ozawa a special individual in the field of theatre. As he didn’t only want visual effects for the sake of them, he wanted them to mean something. Once again, he asked why? Why LED? Why visual effects at all?
The answer Ozawa arrived at is nothing short of genius, as he directly ties it with the themes of puppetry. In Our Cosmic Dust, the LED technology only displays images when a character has been “moved.” Here, we mean psychologically moved, that is to say, when a character’s action resonates with that of other characters. By doing this, Ozawa’s realization on puppetry (a puppet cannot move unless touched by someone), is seamlessly translated to his innovative use of technology. In more than one way, Our Cosmic Dust treats LED technology as another puppet: intentionally limited, making every movement all the more special.
The Colour Palette
Image Credit: Photography by Pamela Raith
On that note, the colour palette of Our Cosmic Dust is definitely worth mentioning. LED screens are capable of displaying over 16 millions different colours, and yet, Michinari Ozawa chose to use a black and white palette. This was done for plot reasons, as it aims to reflect, as Ozawa said, “the feeling of loss of a loved one.” But it also demonstrates how carefully the play uses LED technology to aid the story and not distract from it.
Once again, LED technology is treated as a puppet, one whose absence of movements is as loud as the sounds it does make. Crucially, this lets the audience fill in the gaps, thus sparking their imagination and making the play’s story much more resonant. The protagonist is exploring the cosmos with his imagination, and through presentation alone, the audience is invited to do the same.
Final Words
Image Credit: Photography by Pamela Raith
As Michinari Ozawa said himself, mixing these two polar opposite forms of art was “a journey delving into the unknown.” Ultimately, what we want to highlight is how he managed to make this journey essential to his play. He embarked without a clear destination, but knew the journey itself could be turned into something fascinating given the proper tools. With that in mind, Ozawa took a nuanced approach to Japanese puppetry and LED technology, making them find common ground. And, remarkably, he tied them together with a story about a kid facing the loss of a loved one, quite literally facing the unknown.
In short, we think Michinari Ozawa’s Our Cosmic Dust is a fantastic play, worthy of all the praises it has received. So, let us ask one last question before sending off: what are you waiting for? The play is available at park theatre up to July 5th, don’t miss your chance and buy your tickets!
