
Hello friends, and welcome to my latest queer history blog post! If you enjoy this post, then you’ll love my Historical Fiction novels. Find out more about my projects here, and sign up for my newsletter here to stay in touch.
In Part 1 of this blog series on Queer Japan, I reviewed the millennium of history around nanshoku and male-male love among the infamous samurai warriors. A crucial thread in that narrative was the pervasive openness to non-heteronormative sexuality throughout early modern Japanese society. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the samurai were not the only community of men involved in what we might today consider queer romantic affairs.
Rather, the rise of Japanese theatrical arts provided room (literal and figurative) for a similar but quite distinct culture of queer sexuality. For centuries, there was a great deal going on backstage in Japan’s grand Kabuki theatres – touching not just the intimate lives of those engaged, but pointing to a nuanced and fluid view of gender in this cultural context.
Theatrical Traditions
Interestingly, gender nonconformity lay at the very origins of Kabuki as a uniquely Japanese art form. Although today only performed exclusively by men, Kabuki is thought to have originated with an astonishingly talented young woman named Izumo no Okuni.[1] In 1603, she gave an original performance of combined dance and song at a Kyoto shrine which became the subject of wildfire popularity.[2] The art form was refined throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, eventually becoming synonymous with grandiose sets, mechanized stages, a striking visual style and powerful historical narratives delivered through dramatic musical acting.[3]

Izumo no Okuni, the progenitor of Kabuki theatre
But Kabuki became famous for another reason: Izumo originally performed her kabuki routines dressed in men’s clothing, portraying male characters. Over the next few decades, however, social anxiety over the long-term effects of allowing women to perform on stage saw them pushed from Kabuki altogether.[4] As a result, women have been overwhelmingly excluded from the theatrical style – which was founded by a woman – for most of its over four-hundred-year history.
This state of affairs, however, meant that men performed (and continue to perform) all roles – including those of women. After 1652, only males over the age of fifteen were allowed to act in Kabuki.[5] Notably, this pathway of development for Kabuki theatre mirrors other contemporaneous Western examples of female exclusion from the dramatic arts, including Shakespearean England but also Italian opera (specifically in Rome) during the Baroque era. These male actors who took on female roles came to be known as onnagata and were central to the art form.
Kagema
From the 17th – 19th centuries, Kabuki continued to flourish as a beloved national pastime, attractive to all classes of Japanese society. But it wasn’t only the fabulous shows which drew throngs of devoted fans; it was the actors themselves. The thriving world of Kabuki fostered a parallel thriving world of male prostitution centered on the cast of these glamorous productions. With the strict prohibition against female performers, Kabuki theatre proved ideal ground for young men, especially those considered beautiful to both men and women, to pursue a lucrative career – either as a successful performer, or as a highly-demanded sex worker.[6]

With women excluded from Kabuki, the art form became the domain of men
Commercial sex was neither new nor discreet in Japan during this period; indeed, prostitute districts servicing (and providing the services of) multiple genders were prolific especially in Edo.[7] During the early 17th century, each of the fourteen wards in Edo was reputed to have a nanshoku teahouse where male-male prostitution was available on demand.[8] The meteoric rise of Kabuki abetted male prostitution by providing a steady stream of young actors – some of whom were already well-practiced in androgyny as a result of their Kabuki training. Not surprisingly, onnagata were especially sought after for physical relationships, and especially popular actors would command high fees for such transactions.[9] Crompton writes that “[m]any prostitutes were established or apprentice actors connected with the theatres, whose polished manners and fashionable, expensive wardrobes were much in demand.”[10]
A specific subset of Kabuki performers/sex workers were called kagema. The term technically referred to Kabuki performers “who did not appear on stage” and thus performed sexual services during periods when they were not performing.[11] Over time, however, some sources suggest that kagema “became a common term to indicate male prostitutes who were passed off as kabuki apprentices.”[12] A given kagema may or may not have been a willing sex worker, but they were usually connected to specific theatres and teahouses – the latter where they could safely meet with their wealthy clients.[13]
Notably, there are crucial differences between the religious, Buddhist models of queer affairs among men, the nanshoku model in evidence among the samurai, and the transactional framework which surrounded the theatrical arts. The two former models (as discussed in my prior post) were rigidly hierarchal in nature; although some examples seemed to have involved genuine love and lifetime devotion, their approval and popularity was also based on the perceived social benefits of such relationships.

Kabuki apprentices were often available as commercial sex workers for wealthy patrons
The prostitution surrounding the Kabuki scene, however, was overwhelmingly a transactional matter – a means for pleasure and, depending on the partner, financial livelihood. Leupp relates one such example from a 19th century fictional account of a samurai who (perhaps naively) fell in love with a kagema.[14] With his samurai client heartbroken at their impending separation, the kagema in question remarks, “What do you think I want, apart from good yellow gold?”[15]
Of course, this fictional account could represent an overly harsh assessment of the kagema’s desires and motivations. After all, sex work is work – then as now – but it is plausible that kagema did indeed enjoy a deeper tenderness with some of their clients over others. The lives of the kagema also raise a number of overarching moral questions – specifically around if they willingly entered and stayed in their profession, to what extent they were able or willing to give consent for access to their services. Some sources suggest that kagema worked in forms of indentured servitude (hailing from impoverished families) or were effectively sold into sexual slavery against their will.[16] Unfortunately, impartial primary source accounts from these individuals themselves (which could shed more light on these and myriad other questions) are limited.
Transgender Actors?
While the exceptional demand for male-male prostitution in early modern Japan is itself fascinating, the world of Kabuki theatre brings another queer element to the discussion – one wholly absent from similar queer systems evident among the samurai: gender nonconformity and non-cisgender identities.
Makoto notes that, among the samurai, participants in male-male nanshoku affairs were never perceived as anything but cisgender men.[17] If anything, the point of such relationships was to facilitate and affirm manhood in line with the mores and goals of the shogunate era. This was not the case among the kagema; here, “the kagema model can be said to have been based on gender differentiation…it trespassed on heterosexual ground.”[18]

Some kabuki actors were seen in their era as somewhere outside binary notions of gender
It is perhaps unsurprising that actors whose careers were often based on their ability to represent different genders on stage were perceived as outside the gender binary behind closed doors with their clients. One source refers to these actors as outright transgender in their personal and professional presentation.[19] Some contemporary accounts support this assertion: one onnagata wrote of his art that he could never have reached the height of his genre “without living as a woman in ordinary life. In fact, his masculinity betrays itself easily in him who makes an effort of will to become a woman on the stage.”[20] This explanation could be read as indicating that successful onnagata were likely already transgender, or that actors personally transitioned in the pursuit of their art form. The art of drag could be a more modern comparison to the model represented here, but multiple accounts suggest that onnagata and kagema integrated feminine clothing, mannerisms and behavior into every aspect of their lives – not merely as professional performance art.
Other views on the precise identity of these performers and sex workers are obviously plausible, and probably varied between how they viewed themselves versus how the wider Japanese society viewed them. Nonbinary, genderfluid and agender labels could also be used in this discussion; importantly, however, the application of these labels is a relatively modern phenomenon rooted in modern perspectives. It is possible to view the gender identities of this theatrical community as queer without certainty over the exact labeling which the participants themselves would not have recognized hundreds of years ago.
Queer Legacies
Just as the samurai model of nanshoku declined precipitously with the Meiji Restoration, it seems that the kagema teahouses saw their own decline in the mid-to-late 19th century amid modernization and Western influence.[21] Queer subcultures continued to persist throughout Japan in the 20th century, however, and of course are visible and evolving in the present-day.

The fight for equal rights for queer people in Japan is still ongoing
Despite Japan’s vast and expansive history with public queerness (though this exact framing is up for debate), queer individuals in Japan today enjoy a mixed slate of rights and protections. Most pertinently, gay marriage is not officially recognized yet in Japan. In June 2023, however, the Japanese legislature passed a new law designed to “promote understanding” of queer citizens, encourage local governments to take steps in favor of non-discrimination and provide limited protections to queer Japanese people on the federal level.[22] This result is far from what activist groups in Japan have asked of their governing bodies, proving that history is sometimes not quite prophecy.
Promisingly, in March 2024 Japan’s constitutional ban on same-sex marriage was formally ruled unconstitutional by its highest courts.[23] This is a significant step on the path toward marriage equality in Japan. However, as is unfortunately the case in many parts of the world, the struggle for full equality for queer Japanese people remains unfinished.
[1] Encyclopedia Japan, “History of Kabuki,” accessed January 15, 2024, https://doyouknowjapan.com/kabuki/.
[2] Ibid.
[3] UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage, “Kabuki theatre,” accessed January 15, 2024, https://ich.unesco.org/en/RL/kabuki-theatre-00163.
[4] Encyclopedia Japan, ibid.
[5] Louis Crompton, “Pre-Meiji Japan” in Homosexuality and Civilization (Harvard University Press, 2003), pg. 425.
[6] Diletta Fabiana, “History of Same-Sex Samurai Love in Edo Japan,” All About Japan, updated June 19, 2023, https://allabout-japan.com/en/article/5187/2/.
[7] Gary Leupp, “Capitalism and Homosexuality in Eighteenth-Century Japan,” Historical Reflections / Réflexions Historiques 33, no. 1 (2007), pg. 141, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41299405.
[8] Crompton, pgs. 426-7.
[9] Leupp, 147.
[10] Crompton, pg. 427.
[11] Makoto, Furukawa, and Angus Lockyer (translator), “The Changing Nature of Sexuality: The Three Codes Framing Homosexuality in Modern Japan,” U.S.-Japan Women’s Journal. English Supplement, no. 7 (1994), pg. 100, http://www.jstor.org/stable/42772078.
[12] Fabiana, ibid.
[13] R.B. Parkinson, “Erotic Voyeurism,” in A Little Gay History: Desire and Diversity Across the World, Columbia University Press, New York, 2013, pg. 76-77.
[14] Leupp, 148.
[15] Ibid.
[16] Fabiana, ibid.
[17] Makoto, 100.
[18] Ibid.
[19] Mark J McLelland, “Japan’s Queer Cultures”, University of Wollongong, 2011, https://ro.uow.edu.au/artspapers/265.
[20] Crompton, pg. 425.
[21] Leupp, pg. 149 – 150.
[22] Kanae Doi and Minky Worden, “Japan Passes Law to ‘Promote Understanding’ of LGBT People,” Human Rights Watch, July 12, 2023, https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/07/12/japan-passes-law-promote-understanding-lgbt-people.
[23] Amnesty International, “Japan: Groundbreaking same-sex marriage rulings a long-awaited victory for LGBTI rights”, March 14, 2024, https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/news/2024/03/japan-groundbreaking-same-sex-marriage-rulings-a-long-awaited-victory-for-lgbti-rights/.