Over 2000 years after its original performance in Ancient Greece, Euripides’ Medea remains a thrilling, haunting, and timeless classic. It tells the story of a disenfranchised woman, betrayed by the husband she sacrificed everything for, abandoned by the city she calls home, and forced to commit some of the cruellest acts of vengeance against her own kin. Needless to say, Medea is one of the most influential plays in existence. As creative minds look to the past to find avenues for the future, Medea stands as a point of reference. Today, we look at one such powerful reimagining: Satoshi Miyagi’s Medea, which brings the classic tragedy to the land of the rising sun. We mean this quite literally, as Miyagi conceives a Meiji Era Medea, completely aware of all the layers that entails.
The Meiji Era (1868–1912) is more than just a backdrop Satoshi Miyagi added, it’s the backbone of his play. Thematically, the Meiji Era is crucial to Miyagi’s approach, as Japan’s industrialization, growing nationalism, hierarchical structures and colonial endeavours, all present during this period, are central to his story. For Miyagi, this means a Meiji Era Medea needs to be concerned with daily life in Meiji Japan. Or, to be specific, it needs to address the complex topic of Women’s rights during this period.
Stylistically, the Meiji Era is equally important to Miyagi’s approach. He, as a leading figure in the Japanese avant-garde theatre scene, mixes elements of Meiji Era theatre with a contemporary style. The result is a play that is able to criticize the Meiji Era, while also celebrating the vibrant culture it gave to the world. If you want to know how he does it, keep reading.
Setting the Stage: Life and Upheaval in the Meiji Era
Image credit: Japan Society, Promulgation of the New Japanese Constitution, 1989.
However, before we dive into the nuances of Miyagi’s Meiji Era Medea, we need to examine the Meiji Era itself. Sometimes referred to as the Meiji Restoration, this period began in 1868, after the end of the Tokugawa Shogunate. This led to the return of imperial rule under Emperor Mutsuhito (Emperor Meiji), which, in turn, created a centralized imperial governance. Under this new rule, Japan opened its border for the first time in over 200 years, leading to rapid industrialization and, crucially, Westernization.
Under the banner of “Civilization and Enlightenment,” Japan aimed to modernize itself by adopting many Western trends. Both Europe and the United States became focal points of reference, with Japan actively seeking to emulate their advancement. To name some examples, they looked at British transportation, French fashion, and the US and Germany Parliamentary System.
Some of these, one could argue, were inevitable aspects of industrialization. For instance, the expansion of transportation and communication, with the creation of railroads and the incorporation of the telegraph. Others, however, were more cultural, like the so-called “intellectual trends.” These included the adoption of western-style clothing and architecture, which were heavily incentivized during this era.
As for Japanese people, the advancement of Westernization gave rise to a renewed sense of national identity. This fostered a pursuit of traditional Japanese values, which were communicated through the new Westernized infrastructure. As Britannica puts it, a new “more selective blending of Western and Japanese tastes was achieved.” Yet, this blend also ended up in Japan imitating some of the most dangerous trends of the western hemisphere: aggressive nationalism and colonialism.
The Rise of Japanese Nationalism and Colonialism
Image credit: Artelino, Sino-Japanese War – Battle of Weihaiwei, painted by Chikanobu Toyohara
Beyond modernization, one of the most important shifts the Meiji Era brought was a new militaristic approach. The disparity between the Western countries military prowess and Japan’s was immediately noticeable following the country’s opening. In response, Japan built a new military system similar to what they saw in the West. But, crucially, they integrated and reformed the concept of Bushido (The way of the warrior). Whereas as in Feudal Japan a warrior was to be loyal to his lord, in the Meiji era this was substituted with state. This is best showcased in the Meiji Constitution of 1889, in which allegiance to the State was a citizen’s highest duty. In this new era, the message was clear: for Japan to survive, citizens need to be willing to die for it.
The newly implemented Education system was hugely influential in getting the government message across. Japanese people were rigorously encouraged to follow traditional Japanese values, with an emphasis on Confucian ideas of obedience. Under this system, the Japanese were taught a hierarchical system: they were above other races, their state was above them, and the emperor above all. This reached its terrifying logical conclusion in the early Showa Era (1926-1945), where students were trained to be future soldiers.
With such an underlying system of beliefs, and driven by their perceived military vulnerability, Japan sought colonial endeavours. Korea, Taiwan and parts of Manchuria were all brought under Japanese colonial rule during the Meiji Era. And, as Nationalism grew larger with the subsequent years, their colonial ambitions only became more devastating.
Daily Life in the Meiji Era and Women’s Agency
Image credit: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Bronze Statue of Saigō Takamori in Ueno Park,Tokyo, painted by Watanabe Nobukazu
In early Meiji Era Japan, Nationalism was on the rise, but it wasn’t yet an all encompassing force. The average Japanese citizen couldn’t foresee what was about to happen, so they lived their lives as best as they could. So, what was daily life in Meiji Era Japan?
The answer, like all complex ones, is that it depends. It depended, for example, on your location: rural or urban. With modernization, urban life grew exponentially, as Japan transitioned from a farming economy to one driven by factories. Japanese farmers, consequently, had to deal with high government taxes, prompting many of them to move to the cities for a factory job. Those who remained in the rural areas had to endure the taxes. Those who lived in a city became part of a workforce subject to poor working conditions. New social classes emerged: Kazoku (peers), Shizoku (gentry), and Heimin (commoners). Many found themselves at the bottom, but there was hope. Their kids were getting education, and maybe, just maybe, they could aspire to more in this new Japan.
The Role and Reality of Women in Meiji Japan
This is one answer, but, crucially, is not the only one. Daily life in Meiji Era Japan also depended on your gender. If you were born a woman, the previously mentioned hierarchical system positioned you as well. You were to be in charge of household duties, with an education geared towards aiding men and raising children. It was, as historian Misiko Hane puts it: “a patriarchal family system, diminishing women’s rights and reinforcing male authority.”
This isn’t to say there was no advancement in women’s rights in the Meiji Era: they could now choose spouses and own property. But, overall, their agency was greatly limited. And, with this in mind, we shall return to Medea and see what Satoshi Miyagi found so compelling.
Recasting a Tragedy: Why Medea Belongs in Meiji Japan
Human memory can be very selective, and this rings especially true when remembering pieces of art. Most of the time, the things that stay with us are the ones that shocked us the most. In the case of Medea, we mostly remembered that she murdered her own children out of vengeance. However, by focusing solely in this detail, we risk obscuring some of the nuances that made Medea a timeless classic. For that reason, a quick refresher may be necessary.
Medea, a refresher
Medea (1969) by Pier Paolo Pasolini
The play begins by immediately providing us, the audience, with the necessary context to understand its development. Through the character of the Nurse and the Tutor, we discovered Medea is angry with her husband Jason. The reason for this is that Jason, in seeking a better social position, is about to marry Creon’s, the king of Corinth, daughter. In doing so, he breaks the sacred vows of marriage he and Medea swore to live by.
When we finally hear from Medea, however, we are made aware of the full extent of her tragedy. Her status as both a woman and an immigrant are brought up, and we understand why the breaking of the vows is so important. In this world, where women’s agency is severely limited, marriage was her only avenue to a better life. This is aggravated by the fact that, in marrying Jason, in using what little choice she had, she betrayed her homeland. If she were to be expelled, she would have nowhere to go.
What follows afterwards is a conversation with Creon himself, in which we found out another layer to her tragedy: she is smart. Medea is well-educated, intelligent, and everyone around her recognizes that fact. However, instead of serving her, her intelligence is seen as a threat. A way for her to plan a scheme that would put Creon and his kin in danger, so he preemptively announces her expulsion.
As Greek tragedy would have it, this sealed Creon’s faith. Medea pretended to reconcile with Jason and used her children to send a poisonous gift that killed Creon and his daughter. She then murdered her own children. By the end, Jason is left to wrestle with the feeling of having nothing, the same one Medea had.
Meiji Era Medea
Image credit: The Coronet Theatre, photo by Tamuka Uchida
Having now an understanding of the original text and the Meiji Era, we’re able to grasp what Satoshi Miyagi so acutely saw. The character of Medea, and her tragic story arc, feel right at home in Meiji Era Japan.
A Meiji Japan Medea is not that different from a Greek Medea, or any woman that endured rigid social norms. Her only avenue for agency was the ability to choose a spouse, which mirrors how this was one of the few advancements in Meiji Era women’s rights. Good in theory, but co-dependent on the husband, and where there’s a duality there’s a hierarchy.
Furthermore, there’s her status as an immigrant. Crucially, an immigrant that society had no desire to fully integrate, which parallels how women were treated during the Meiji Era modernization. Japan will change, but your role as a woman won’t change with it.
Finally, there’s Medea’s education. Here, we see she has the ability to become much more than society deems her capable of. However, instead of seeing her potential, this is treated as a threat. Similarly, Meiji Era women received education, but it was limited to serving her role in society: as a caretaker, wife, and mother.
With all of these in mind, it is no surprise Satoshi Miyagi felt so attracted to one aspect of Medea: her rage. In a society that limited women’s agency, Medea acting upon her fury is as terrifying as it is revolutionary. Given the right context, like Meiji Era Japan, her voice and actions could gain an entirely new meaning. A meaning that, crucially, was always there, but could now reach an audience ready to hear it.
The Storyteller’s Lens: Satoshi Miyagi’s Theatrical Vision
Satoshi Miyagi’s Medea is framed as a play-within-a-play. A group of men, characterized as intellectuals by their western-style attire, go to a restaurant/brothel to be entertained. They are part of the new Meiji Era elite, possessing both a Western and Japanese taste. They want to watch a classic Western play, Medea, but with a Japanese flavour to it. Through this framing device, Satoshi Miyagi makes the Male Gaze explicitly central, as we’ll be watching women perform their raw emotions in the service of men.
This masterful set-up allows Miyagi’s play to lend itself to both a feminist and post-colonial reading. In performing the characters of Medea, the women in the play find a safe avenue to let their emotions implode. The act of theatre, in it of itself, becomes an act of rebellion. And while the true intentions of these women don’t register to the intellectual men watching the play, we, the audience, recognize the psychological victory over them. Additionally, Miyagi made the brilliant decision to cast Mikari, a Korean woman, as Medea. Japanese colonialism is, in turn, brought to the foreground, as we see in her not only Medea’s rage, but the oppressed exposing their true feelings against their oppressors.
With this framing device alone, Satoshi Miyagi’s Medea invites us to see the classic tragedy in a different way. He didn’t choose to change the play itself, rather, he provided a unique Japanese lens, anchored to the Meiji Era, inviting us to a specific reading. This, however, is not the only thing Miyagi added to make the play a masterful piece of art.
Contemporary Meiji Era Theatrics
Chikamatsu’s Love in Osaka (1959) by Tomu Uchida
As we hinted at the beginning of this article, Miyagi is able to both criticize the Meiji Era and celebrate the art it brought forth. This is perhaps most noticeable in his genius dual actor system. As the name suggests, this system means two actors are cast for the same role, with a key distinction. One actor is cast for the role of “Mover,” being in charge of the movement of the character; the other is the “Speaker,” responsible for both delivering narration and dialogue. This is reminiscent of Japanese theatre itself, having parallels with Noh performances, Bunraku puppetry, and even the physicality of Kabuki theatre.
However, true to Miyagi’s avant-garde approach, there’s more to this dual actor system than meets the eye. As Nobuko Anan masterfully details in her review of the play, this decision was “to express the schizophrenic condition of postmodern people, their pain of being split into language and movement.” This, in turn, makes the production at odds with itself, as a classic play such as Medea, where a huge dramatic event occurred, is confronted with the subtlety of the postmodern condition. However, Miyagi is able to make them both masterfully coexist. To borrow from Nobuko once again, she mentions how the Nurse character both acts and speaks for herself. This, consequently, highlights the artificiality of the dual actor system, while also enforcing it upon her. We, the audience, uniquely positioned to notice this subtle exploitation, become active participants in Miyagi’s clever commentary.
Meiji Era Symbolism in Costume and Set Design
Image credit: The Coronet Theatre, photo by Tamuka Uchida
Finally, having addressed the thematic and cultural nuances Satoshi Miyagi extracts from the Meiji Era, we need to address the most immediately apparent. We’re talking, of course, about the costume and set design of the play. As soon as the curtain rises, the colorful and vibrant look of Meiji Era Japan is strikingly noticeable. The female characters are dressed in traditional kimonos, carrying Japanese umbrellas, creatively transporting the audience to the time period. Furthermore, the restaurant/brothel, and, consequently, the stage itself, is covered in a white fabric with a red circle in the middle. This, as you might’ve guessed, is meant to simulate the colors of Japan’s imperial flag.
These elements are not only historically accurate, but also deeply symbolic. Consider, for instance, how male spectators of the play wear western-style clothing to distinguish themselves. Now, contrast their attire with the traditional Kimono the women are using. In this visual comparison, we see how their costumes highlight their respective gender roles, as well as their different social status. The imperial Japanese flag of set serves a similar purpose. It’s both an accurate and stylistically pleasing depiction of a place of the time, but also highlights the undertone of the play. Japanese nationalism is at the foundation of the Meiji Era, and the set design makes that explicitly clear.
And these details are just the tip of the iceberg. As the play progresses, the costume and their themes evolve. Satoshi Miyagi’s intentions slowly unveil themselves in a narrative masterpiece worthy of the title of classic. But we won’t say more, as this is something you truly need to experience for yourself.
Final Words
In conclusion, in Satoshi Miyai’s Medea, the Meiji Era is much more than a fresh coat of paint. For Miyagi, this period in Japanese history was key to unlocking a new perspective on Euripides’ classic. Through the lens of the Meiji Era, he found a feminist, postcolonial and uniquely Japanese interpretation of Medea.
By returning to this time period, Miyagi was able to simultaneously confront the colonial past of his nation, engage with the weight of western dramatic tradition, and the contemporary landscape of theatre. His vision for this play only fully came together once the setting was chosen. The elements present –the costume, the setting, the dual actor system, and the genius mixture of Japanese and western theatre traditions–, were all brilliantly recontextualized through the Meiji Era. Consequently, the play became more than just an ambitious idea: it became a truly timeless work of art. While it may be anchored to a specific time period, Miyagi was able to completely grasp the human core of the original play.
The play is, in short, a masterpiece in every sense of the word. It stands tall as one of the best and most relevant adaptations of a classic Greek play in recent memory, and we have no doubts it will continue to do so for years to come. So, miss your chance to see this breathtaking play by yourself. Catch Satoshi Miyagi’s Medea at The Coronet Theatre from 18–21 June.
Sources
Britannica. (2025, April 21). Meiji Restoration. Retrieved [Current Date, e.g., May 21, 2025], from https://www.britannica.com/event/Meiji-Restoration
Edubirdie. (2022, February 17). Impact of Patriarchal Traditions on Japanese Women. https://hub.edubirdie.com/examples/japanese-patriarchal-values-and-its-effects-on-women-in-different-dimensions/
The Coronet Theatre. (n.d.). Medea. Retrieved May 21, 2025, from https://www.thecoronettheatre.com/whats-on/medea/
Theatre Weekly. (2025, May 15). Medea UK premiere at The Coronet Theatre reimagines Euripides through a Japanese lens. https://theatreweekly.com/medea-uk-premiere-at-the-coronet-theatre-reimagines-euripides-through-a-japanese-lens/
Anan, N. (2006). [Review of the book Medea]. Asian Theatre Journal 23(2), 407-411. https://doi.org/10.1353/atj.2006.0014
Columbia University. (n.d.). The invention of the Bushido identity – Reinvention. Retrieved from https://www.columbia.edu/~hds2/chushinguranew/Bushido/reinvention.htm
University of Oregon. (n.d.). Changing distinctions. Samurai Revolution. Retrieved from https://samurairevolution.omeka.net/exhibits/show/peasantclassmeiji/changingdistinctions
