Keep Climbing, Yuzu
Why the crawl?
I have written about a 20 second silence, a six second stare, a single scream…but this is the first time I have written an entire post about a (nearly imperceivable in the dark) Yuzu moment that was over in less than four seconds.
But we simply are not talking enough about the way Yuzu crawled up the “Gate of Living” substage stairs on all fours.
It happened on Day Two of Saga’s RE_PRAY. Each performance prior had been a regal climb of superiority by the Rule of the World. And yes, sometimes climbing stairs is simply climbing stairs. But on Day Two of Saga, something – something – happened.
Was he worried he might fall?
Did he think it was more creative?
Was he suddenly bored with climbing stairs?
Safety, Art or Mood. No matter the reason, it was BRILLIANT. And it’s time we talk about it more.
I once said there was no villain in Yuzu’s story. Clearly, I was wrong. There are several villains. It wouldn’t be a story without villains. But it isn’t about them. It’s about if they win. Or more importantly, if you let them win. And Yuzu is not letting them win. He’s shown us in his words. He’s shown us in his actions. He’s shown us in his Instagram posts. And, in Saga, he showed us in his animalistic crawling up substage stairs.
I can just picture Rehearsal Yuzu standing in his warm-up pants and RE_PRAY T-shirt (before it had Miyagi added to the back) with his chin in his hand, staring at the stairs and thinking ‘How the heck am I going to get up these giant stairs charismatically?’ He climbs them once, and then Staff-san hands him an iPad to view the re_pray. (I had to.) He spends several minutes watching it with his finger to his temple, thinking, and then rapidly points in enough different directions that it sends every little league player in Japan to steal second base.
Suddenly, we have Bigger Than Life Yuzu scaled down and looking like he’s trying to climb into a chair at the adults’ table at Thanksgiving. Animal Yuzu scaling a rock and leaping to the top. Hunter Yuzu stalking his prey (and oh, he caught us). All while wearing an intricate costume worthy of this dark and relentless pursuit. This stairography wouldn’t work with just any of his costumes – particularly Haku – as he could’ve gotten tangled in the fabric strips and ended up rolling down the stairs like a ball of yarn. (There’s some baby kitty imagery for you.)
And while on some levels it’s humorous (‘Aw, someone made the set too big for Yuzu…’), ultimately it represents the mountain with which Yuzu has been faced. He could’ve put his hands to his head, exclaimed, “Fuji-sama!” and run the other direction, but not our Yuzu. In fact, let’s talk about what Yuzu has overcome. And not just scenic elements. Life elements. Unfair treatment, health conditions, personality misrepresentation, recurring injuries, baseless comparisons, unwarranted blame, merciless rumors, attacks on his integrity, threats to his safety, and lies, lies and more lies. Any one of those things – one of those giant steps – could drive away the bravest of hearts. Yuzu doesn’t even get the luxury of climbing these stairs in private. He is climbing them with the whole world watching. And that world includes the people who desperately want to see him stub his toe and tumble down to the bottom.
They think if they make the step just another inch taller and another inch taller and another inch taller he will eventually give up. But Yuzu looked at those steps and declared, “By God, I’m going to climb up this mountain if I have to do it on my hands and knees.” He didn’t just climb them, he CONQUERED them.
But we know all this isn’t without wounds and scars. We know it hasn’t always been a regal climb, Yuzu. You’ve let us see you – flat on the ice like a crushed butterfly, against the wall like a trapped mouse. We’ve seen you on your knees gasping for air. We’ve seen you, head hung, with your wings folded inward from exhaustion. We still see those battle wounds and scars, and we know they never completely go away. They may fade, but even once the bruise is gone, the tenderness remains – and not just from jumps and competitions. It’s not just judges judging you anymore. It’s a world of villains determined to push you down those stairs. But there is a sea of us to lift you up. We reach out our hands for you to grab. We offer our shoulders to boost you, legs to stand beside you, and feet to kick away what chases you. Because we don’t care what it looks like getting up those stairs. We only care that you are satisfied with how you got there.
So that is “why the stair crawl” meant so much to me. In four seconds, it showed us the Determined Yuzu, who stood at the base of something seemingly insurmountable, yet without hesitation, chose not to be afraid, not to be intimidated, not to be defeated – but to CLIMB.
Keep climbing, Yuzu. No matter how tall those stairs get.
