Aikido - Karate Intersection?

Below is an excerpt from an article that appeared at The Budo Journeyman, which posits that during the development of Wado Ryu Karate, there were certain direct influences from Aikido's founder, Morihei Ueshiba.

The full post may be read here.

The story goes that Konishi had a connection with Ueshiba Morihei (1883 - 1969), a truly divinely inspired martial artist, also somewhat of a shaman and a mystic. In terms of martial arts of the Japanese tradition Ueshiba was almost on another planet.

The general impression we get of Ueshiba is that he was somebody who was ploughing a very lonely and insular furrow, in a very niche area; but this is incorrect. There was a cross-current involving other martial artists, through the sword and other traditions, so it doesn’t seem too far-fetched that there should be some relationship between Ueshiba and Konishi, or even Otsuka, but only up to a point. (a key facilitator might have been Kano Jigoro?)

In all writings about Konishi this relationship with Ueshiba seems unambiguous, and there are even mentions of Otsuka, Konishi and Ueshiba training together ‘almost daily’ says the Ryobukai source (see below). But I am not so sure, and what does that mean anyway?

What does seem rather odd is that the Otsuka camp, in all the retellings of his particular personal story, make no mention of any connections between Otsuka and Ueshiba (I have tried to tease this one out with those involved with the continuing Otsuka connections, but with no luck). Like all traditions, the retelling of the tale always includes some element of ‘curation’, so one has to be careful when trying to get to the bones of the matter, especially with all the time that has elapsed.

A couple of things to set context with Ueshiba:

Historically, the timeline tells us that Ueshiba finally settled in Tokyo from 1927 and stayed there all the way through to the war years. So, possibly, right place, right time?

It has to be remembered that he was ten years older than both Konishi and Otsuka, (he would have been around 45 to 50 years old at the time, and as some would say, in his physical prime; this was before he adopted the long wispy beard look, the elder shaman that he became).

With Konishi, the general story is that he showed Ueshiba the solo kata he had been working on with Okinawan karate, and Ueshiba was not impressed.

In Konishi’s 1976 interview published in Fighting Arts International magazine, he said, “I can remember showing him (Ueshiba) some of the Pinan kata, and he didn’t like them at all. In fact, he advised me to give them up. I asked him to give me a year to come up with something different. After a great deal of thought, I devised kata which I thought had better movement. After give or [take] six months, I showed them to him and he approved”.

In the Dave Lowry article on Konishi in Blackbelt magazine, he says that Ueshiba “encouraged him to create a karate kata that emphasized a formal system of footwork”.

An article on the Fighting Arts website by Omi Akihiro, has this to say about the kata, “The footwork, the body movement, and the applications ("bunkai") in these kata are based on both Karate and Aikido principles”.

Konishi named these kata, ‘Taisabaki’.

Tai Sabaki Shodan, is described by one of the current senior instructors of Shindo Jinen Ryu (Ryobukai), as, consisting of “a chain of actions, with no pause after each action”. Which seems to be one of its defining characteristics. To just describe it as such, you might conclude that it flows like a kind of speeded up Tai Chi; but no. Looking at it through my Wado lenses, the pauses seem quite similar in length to the way Wado kata are performed today.

Other sources suggest that the footwork is inspired by Aikido methods. Certainly, if viewed closely, the changes of angle show some interesting possibilities in terms of transition.

As for the name ‘Tai Sabaki’, I can predict that some Wado people can get hung up on this (you can see it in the comments underneath the YouTube video). But they have to be gently reminded that Wado doesn’t OWN the concept of Tai Sabaki; Wado has its particular take on methods of Tai Sabaki as ‘body management’ that are quite sophisticated and well developed. Tai Sabaki can be read at different levels of movement, from basic to advanced, it’s all over the wider spectrum of Japanese martial arts.

 

 

The Right Timing

Below is an excerpt of a post that appeared at The Thoughtful Sensei blog. The full post may be read here.

When I was a little tyke cameras were fairly primitive compared to the ones available today. It was simply a black box with a non-adjustable lens and a button on the side. It did have a view port for all the use that was so you could at least aim it. And it took "ok" pictures. If you wanted "good" pictures then that Box Brownie was not what you wanted as the final product could have a wide variety of results which is why in many family photos everyone is guessing whether that's Uncle John or Aunt Lucy. If you wanted the really good photos then you went for a pricey camera and a photographer who wasn't someone with just a box, but instead someone with high end equipment.

 

Years ago my Sensei wrote a book and in his book he wanted photographs that weren't just guys standing around looking good holding bokken and styling in their gi, or posing with their hands stuck in the side splits of their hakama. He wanted "Action" shots (stress on "action") with uke elevated at head level with their feet in the air as they slammed into the mat. Real action shots, the kind only a professional sports photographer could do.

 

Back in those days it was all mirror and mechanical shutter oriented. There was no such thing as digital SLR so the ability to run a camera through 200 frames as the throw occurred and then picking the single best frame out of the 200 simply did not exist. So he went out, did extensive research and found the best sports photographer in the area who was well known for his action shots of pro-football, pro-baseball, and pro-basketball moves.

 

Sensei' rationale was that since you only got a split-second to hit the shutter button he needed someone with the experience and the eye to pick "that" precise moment so that only one to two shots were needed, as opposed to lining up the ukes and pounding them until he had that one shot he was looking for and then having to call the chiropractor for the ukes since plowing into the mat is a bit different from catching a ball. Having that "eye" for the action and intuitively knowing that single precise moment in the midst of high speed action to hit the shutter button was due to years of experience and knowing the moment.

 

Such is true martial arts training. The experience gained from the experience of when and how to "push the button" is what determines the guy with the Box Brownie from the guy with the digital Hasselblad. Repetition, repetition, repetition is the secret whether it's sports photography or high level martial arts.

 

Catch Wrestling

 

 

The Passing of Kina Toshimitsu of Okinawan Kenpo

Below is an excerpt from Ikigai Way about the passing of one of the notable karate masters of modern Okinawa. The full post may be read here.

On October 29th, 2024 we learned about the passing of Kina Sensei. I’d like to take this opportunity to discuss his impact on the world of Okinawa Kenpo Karate.

Born October 13th, 1941 and growing up in a post-World-War-II Okinawa, Kina Toshimitsu felt the need to get stronger as he became an early teen. His father told him to study karate and recommended a dojo in Nago. Nago was considered remote in the northern part of the island compared to the populous Naha, but there was a famous school operated by a gentleman named Nakamura Shigeru. Nakamura Sensei was renowned for his technique and striking power and it seemed like a perfect place for Kina to develop his abilities.

As time passed Kina Sensei developed a reputation as a talented fighter. He distinguished himself by winning kumite and kata divisions in the 1960 All Okinawa Open Karate Tournament¹ and placing well in a variety of other competitions. His reputation for kumite drew respect from competitors and dojo-mates alike.

Kina Sensei was a contemporary of other notable Okinawa Kenpo practitioners such as Odo Seikichi, Oyata Seiyu, and Nakamura Taketo.

According to Kiyan Toru, Kina Sensei often ran his classes much like that of Nakamura Sensei himself. There was a focus on individual training, ranging from makiwara to hojo undo to kata. Kumite was held utilizing the protective bogu gear of which Nakamura Sensei was an early adopter. Nakamura Sensei also taught kobudo, which Kina Sensei absorbed while seeking additional correction from Chibana Kenko Sensei². He learned bo, nunchaku, tonfa, and sai, but became very proficient with the sai. He also developed an affinity for the karate kata Kusanku.

Kina Sensei continued to teach throughout the decades, drawing no excess attention to himself and attending many events in a gentlemanly manner. He had an unassuming dojo in Shuri built out of a small community building.

Kina retained a loyal and diligent group of students but also hosted visitors from abroad. I had the good fortune to visit in 2023 to train with sensei.

 

 

Conserving a Set of Japanese Armor

Below is an excerpt of an article that appeared on the British Museum website about how they went about conserving a set of 17th century armor they had acquired. The full post, with many photographs, may be read here.

Using funds from the JTI Japanese Acquisition Fund, the Department of Asia has recently acquired a fine set of Japanese samurai armour and accessories dating from the 1700s. During the Edo period (1615–1868), Japan was largely at peace, so armour was more for ceremonial occasions than for battle. It was a beautifully decorative ensemble of finely crafted materials, including metal, lacquer, textile, leather and horn. Each of these presented different challenges for the team of conservators at the British Museum.

The samurai armour required extensive conservation and mounting before it could be put on display. This is because it had been privately owned with no known previous conservation records. After initial assessments it was clear that it was covered in dirt dust, had damage to the lacquer, degrading textiles, and needed structural support for mounting. During its 250+ hour treatment we learned a lot about the techniques used to create the armour, with some interesting surprises along the way!

When the object arrived at the Museum it was quarantined for several months to ensure that no pests or infestations were present. Usually objects will be frozen to kill any insects, but due to the amount of lacquer and metal (which can break when quickly expanding or contracting due to changes in temperature), quarantine was the best option. Many of the wood and horn pieces from the armour and its storage box showed signs of damage by pests. While wood damage can be seen as unsightly, interestingly some horn damage can be seen as a sign of affluence that the owner was able to afford real horn as opposed to a substitute.

One of the first things we did was clean the armour. There was a lot of dust in crevices that could scratch the surface when trying to spruce up the metal. We used a soft brush and a special Museum vacuum to carefully clean the dust off.

During a surface clean conservators can uncover partially obscured surfaces, helping us gain a better idea of the object's overall condition. For example, while cleaning the cuirass over 100 insect casings were found hidden beneath the silk cording.

The armour has several textile elements including the collar, shin guards, silk cords, tassels and sleeves – many of which had degraded over time and from light damage. Light damage fades dyes, and weakens the fibres causing them to split and disintegrate into fibre dust. The parts dyed a light orange/pink colour were especially damaged so our senior textile conservators set to work securing the loose fibres by using very fine silk thread and custom-dyed nylon netting where the armour needed additional support.

Our main concern was the lacquer covering nearly all of the armour. When lacquer is new it's glossy with a smooth, shiny surface that is resistant to most environmental conditions. But over time light can damage lacquer and create tiny microcracks in the surface, making the surface appear dull. The armour had many areas with cracks that needed treatment to protect the exposed areas and prevent any more damage.

Because the adhesive we use dries very slowly (it takes over five days), it is important that any area we are trying to stabilise has continuous pressure. For this, we use a modified Japanese method called shimbari – it utilises a wooden frame and flexible bamboo sticks that allow the conservator to apply even pressure across an entire surface, whether flat or curved, over a long period of time. Coupled with clamps, we were able to re-secure lacquer that no longer lay down flat.

 

Designing a Martial Art

Over at The Budo Journeyman, there is an interesting thought experiment. Based on what you know now and what you have experienced, if you were to design a new martial art from the ground up, what would it look like?

Below is an excerpt. The full post may be read here.

If you were to design a perfect martial arts system from scratch, how would you do it?

I know this sounds like a complete heresy, but just bear with me on this, consider it as a kind of wild hypothetical musing, an out-of-the-box riffing on a theme.

Why I think this might be worth having a go at:

·       It might just prompt a total reframing of what we think the martial arts are, and what we think they might be.

·       It’s possible that it could cast light on where engaging in martial arts training might fit into modern society.

·       It could help us to project backwards and perhaps encourage us to find a new angle to look objectively at what we are doing now (as practising martial artists operating within our own systems) and what we used to do.

This line of thought came out of some challenging and really interesting conversations I have had in the past with martial artists who like to compare systems.

Starting with the basics – Define your terms.

I am going to come at this through the lens of design. How would a designer approach this problem?

Designers would typically start out with a ‘brief’; a condensed description of just what problem needs to be addressed.

Before I get into specifics; here is the first point:

There are different ways of defining ‘martial arts’, in this case I am definitely talking about ‘unarmed combat’.

For successful design, what is it that you want to achieve? What would be the perfect outcome?

Without getting too descriptive, here are a series of possible characteristics that might be desirable:

1.       Whatever happens it must bring about an instant effect (prolonged engagements will up the risk factor considerably).

2.       There must be a minimal energy output. Energy expense in fighting can be incredibly costly and incurs further risks.

3.       It should not announce its presence (unless it is tactically advantageous).

4.       Whatever is done you should not inflict damage on yourself to achieve your end. This includes damage accumulated during training and preparation.

5.       There should be a zero continuation of threat (even from a downed opponent or their confederates).

6.       There should be a capacity to de-stress, decompress, debrief and detach after an encounter. This is important because of the potential for psychological trauma (anyone who has ever been in a violent encounter will know this). Without this programmed in, your ‘shelf-life’ becomes somewhat limited; like a gun with only the capacity to fire one bullet.

 

Head Injuries in Martial Arts

At the Budo Journeyman, there was a very good post about head injuries in sports in general and combat sports in particular. An excerpt is below. The full post may be read here.

There has been an ongoing discussion involving scientists, medical people and those with a vested interest in their favoured sporting activity.

The usual suspects; (sports most likely to…)

Boxing.

It might have started with boxing.

If you have any knowledge of the history of the sport at professional level you might be aware of the tragedies of the boxers Michael Watson who suffered catastrophic brain damage in 1991. Or Welsh bantamweight Johnny Owens who died from a dramatic head injury received in the ring in 1980. The debate has continued ever since.

As early as 1949 a British neurologist, Macdonald Critchley wrote a paper called, "Punch-drunk syndromes: the chronic traumatic encephalopathy of boxers", but at that time it was assumed that it was only boxers, and other sports escaped scrutiny.

Football.

Then there was the discussion around professional footballers who suffered accumulated brain damage just through heading the ball. Certainly, from the 1960’s onwards. But, back in those days, the way footballs were designed and the heavyweight leather involved, it’s not surprising. Recent research with historical elite-level players revealed a shocking statistic; that outfield players (not goalkeepers) are 50% more likely to develop dementia than a control sample.

https://www.theguardian.com/football/2023/mar/16/footballers-50-more-likely-to-develop-dementia-study-finds

Rugby.

Rugby was the next sport to be put under the microscope. The debate centred around young players, and again, headline-grabbing injuries, broken necks and lesser injuries like concussions were splashed across newspapers.

Martial Arts.

For some reason the oriental-based contact sports seemed to escape the scrutiny, despite in the UK a couple of deaths in the early days of ‘full contact’.

The Gardening Implements of War

Over at Ichijoji, there is an interesting article about an unusual samurai weapon: a war rake.

Below is an excerpt. The full post may be read here.

 

Today, seeing the leaves beginning to turn to the gold of autumn, I was reminded of that perennial garden chore, raking leaves. It made me think of a reference I came across regarding a certain Matsuda Hidenobu, a warrior of some note who fought at the battle of Sekigahara (1600) during which he is reported to have used a long weapon called a kumade (literally ‘bear’s claw’) to bring down 11 mounted opponents whom his followers then dispatched. What had caught my eye was that the weapon he was depicted with was a large leaf rake

While it is true that the same word, kumade, is used for a modern leaf rake, this is very far from the weapon that Matsuda Hidenobu must have used.

The word ‘battlefield’ is often bandied about with regard to traditional martial arts – some of them really were created for or used on battlefields; others are more likely to have developed for civilian self-protection in what were very violent times. Some were probably meant as a kind of training to imbue discipline and other virtues in a suitable cultural package. Many are hybrids, adapting and developing military techniques for other purposes. But early examples of the use of the kumade can, indeed, be located on battlefields in early medieval Japan. 

This can be seen in artwork such as the Kasuga Gongen E-Maki (early 14th century - see above) and in the well known Scroll of the Mongol Invasion (13th century), and several instances appear in war chronicles, both on land and at sea. Set at an earlier date than both the aforementioned scrolls, the story of Taira no Yorimori being attacked by one Hachimachi Jiro, who hooked a rake onto his helmet, only for Yorimori to reverse the tables by cutting through the shaft of the kumade with his sword, the famous Nuke-maru, sending Jiro tumbling, and returning to camp with the kumade still attached to his helmet, has a ring of truth to it, despite the clearly fictional basis of many of the individual exploits in these tales.  These tales and picture scrolls were mostly created well after the periods they depict (not in the case of the Mongol Invasion scroll, however), but still in a time of pretty constant warfare, so they can be considered reasonably reliable in the weapons they depict.

Doubling as a weapon and a tool, it is difficult to ascertain the origins of this device, but its similarity to the kind of anchor used by small boats suggests this is a possible source. It is often depicted with a rope or chain wound around the shaft, and although I have seen no depictions (or read any accounts) of how this was used, it suggests the head may not have been too firmly fixed on the shaft and the rope/chain served as an additional means of controlling the opponent if the head became detached (or if the shaft was cut through, as in the story above).

 

Tao, The Watercourse Way

I posted before about ChunLiang Al Huang, who was one of the early Taijiquan teachers in the US, and part of the Human Potential Movement.

Here is another short documentary about him.