"They adhere to a thorough theory and arm themselves with fully worked-out techniques. An exception among the young theatrical groups of today."
Akihiko Senda,
'Dance Magazine',
October, 1992
"... in this production, parts are grotesquely enlarged so that the actual state of life surfaces as it is. I couldn't take my eyes off the strange texture of life."
Tamotsu Watanabe,
'Theater',
March, 1995
"On the surface, he seems to eliminate everything that is theatrical. However, a closer look would reveal that Hirata grasps the vital points of theater, namely 'to vigorously present the state of the world' and 'to precisely and exquisitely present the state of people's minds.'"
Hisashi Inoue,
'Comments Upon Selection of the 39th Kishida Drama Award',
February, 1995
"Hirata's method intends to liberate theater from the convention that a drama is destined to express some kind of conclusion and therefore it should converge and integrate toward that conclusion."
Minoru Betsuyaku,
'Comments Upon Selection of the 39th Kishida Drama Award',
February, 1995
The father's brother and the carpenter unconcernedly discuss if "the Koreans eat octopuses." The elder daughter, while chatting with the maids says "The sounds of the Korean language do not suit literature." One of the guests remarks about a maid, "She's good at Japanese (as a Korean)." In this piece these words are presented in the everyday context, almost suggesting "good intentions." We foresee, in this everydayness, the invasion and violence that forced persistently the Japanese language and Japanese names on the Korean people after the Annexation. And we can't relegate this to the past. I often hear that when the Koreans living in Japan get naturalized, they are suggested implicitly to choose a name that is closer to a Japanese name. This piece asks us: isn't the problem in our own everyday life rather than in the system? It seemed to me that this heavy piece is rejecting criticism. ... Oriza Hirata, without doubt, is one of the writers to be continuously acclaimed.
Kimiko Saigo, from
"Depicting the Violence in Everyday Life",
Kanagawa Shimbun, July 3, 1993
The dialogs and movements are intricately planned and intense time passes on stage. We see these people having their own concerns in their minds, but there is no indication of anything happening.
...
But, in this casually-passing time there are some shocking moments. Soichiro who treats his Korean servants nicely says, "Now that we are to become one nation, the Koreans should learn to make some effort, too," and his literary-loving daughter Aiko, having tea with a Korean maid relates, "I don't think the Korean language is suited for literature very much."
These unconscious discriminations, like a sharp thorn, sting the hearts of the spectators and make them feel the pain of history.
Hideo Mori, from
"Sharp Pain of History"
, Komei Shimbun, December 9, 1998
Set in the lounge of an art museum, this piece consists of the conversations of visitors and staff members. ... They ramble on randomly about love, marriage, family, future, etc. Low voices, lines spoken simultaneously, and movements irrelative to the meaning of the conversation made me feel indescribably uncomfortable. But at the end, this distorted picture with no proper perspective comes to produce a distinct image.
Sisters-in-law playing an outstaring game that you lose when you burst into tears, unlike the traditional kids' game in which you lose when you burst into laughter. This scene portrays us living in today's world bewildered by not knowing how much distance we should keep from others. This piece captured and presented a dramatic moment on stage not by the dynamism of the story but by depicting the weakened relationships of people.
Hiroshi Sugiyama,
"Depicting Contemporary People through Conversations",
Yomiuri Shimbun Evening Edition, May 31, 1994
Oriza Hirata chose an art museum in the near future in 2004 as the crossing of people. Various groups are making conversation in the lobby. Listening intensively, we see that war is going on overseas.
...
The cause or the situation of the war is not told directly. It is left to the audience to connect bits and pieces of information. The war overseas casts a dark shadow on the mind.
This play, first performed in 1994, has pictured fully the mental situations of the Japanese looking at the Gulf War and the Bosnian Conflict through the mass media. Turning on TV, we see waterfowls whose wings are covered by crude oil flowed. Yet we can't get away from love, marriage, and aging problem that urge us.
Hiroshi Hasebe, from
"Styles of Lines"
Nikkei Shimbun, January 24, 1993
As discussed on stage in relation to Vermeer's paintings, the conversations show "only where the light strikes" but this stage also suggests subtly the hidden parts of people where the light doesn't strike. Especially the last scene where the elder sister and the second brother's wife play an outstaring game holding back the tears comes home. Besides, this imaginary early 21st century world is a shocking one. In this near future world, Europe is at war, refugees are flowing into Japan, Japan is involved in the war and the conscription is about to put to practice. This lightly depicted world on stage which contains an apocalyptic world sealed in it is strangely tensive. The everyday-life-reality-oriented acting of the small theater actors is effective.
Akihiko Senda, from
"Lightly Expressed Apocalyptic World Gives Tension"
, Asahi Shimbun, May 25, 1994