Category: Uncategorized Page 2 of 11

Part 1 – Introduction

With this series of articles, I would like to address a certain dissatisfaction with the common debates one sees online regarding koryū, kata training and sparring or what is called “aliveness.” These are typically framed in very binary ways, something I find incongruent with both my own experience of practice, my understanding of the history of koryū in general, and Yagyū Shinkage Ryū Heihō (YSR) in specific.

• This part will be an introduction to the argument I am addressing, the terms with which I will address it, a very general look at the history of shiai in classical Japanese martial traditions, and some of my own conclusions and speculations.
• Part 2 will be an examination of the appearance of shiai in the early historical record of YSR. Fortunately, the historical record is relatively well-preserved, and has been printed in a number of different modern sources.
• Part 3 will look at the modern (post-Meiji) history of shiai in YSR.
• Finally, in Part 4, I would like to present the YSR approach to kata and free training, specifically through the lens of what we call the “shiai-seihō,” or “shiai-gata.” I’ll note that this material is adapted from private presentations I’ve made elsewhere.

Read More

VISITING OTHER RYŪHA: A HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVE

In the Edo period, unless one were a dignitary of a feudal domain, there were few reasons for a practitioner of a ryūha to visit another ryūha other than to make a challenge. Once safety equipment had been developed, this was not necessarily a hostile action, but it was, as I have described elsewhere, always potentially so. If one intended to ‘cross-train,’ this usually followed a match—the loser trained with the victor. Perhaps the most likely exception to this was if a young man became acquainted with a venerable warrior. An example of that is recorded in the internal records of Takenouchi-ryū.

. . . , the family lost its castle to an alliance of Oda Nobunaga and the Hashiba clan.[2] They fled to an adjacent valley in Owari in 1571, . . . . The Takenouchi were welcomed by the Shimizu lord, Shinmen Iga no Kami. Takenouchi Hisamori, the founder the ryū, then a seventy-eight-year-old man, became the guest of a thirty-one-year-old warrior, Shinmen Munisai Taketo. Takenouchi-ryū records state, “They did not see each other as competitors or enemies but instead paid each other respect as teacher and student.” Hisamori taught him kogusoku—in his school, close-combat, particularly incorporating the use of a dagger in grappling. Munisai was described as a diligent student. [Amdur, Old School, p. 174].

Read More

In an earlier guest essay on Kogen Budō, I wrote:

It is important to draw a distinction between “military inspired” arts, practiced by a military class focused on unarmored dueling, versus military arts practiced by a professional class that drilled and maneuvered in mass formation, on exercises or expeditions.

This is a distinction, ill-considered in a lot of commentary, even though it concerns changes most all kobudō underwent during the Edo period, much less where we find ourselves well into the 21st century. Considering this, I will examine several arts with which I have a passing familiarity, and hypothesize about how their current, very divergent, incarnations could have been more closely related much earlier in time. I then describe some of the psychological considerations arise when undertaking an ongoing practice and, in my case, how I hope to practice sword methods as a form of mindfulness and self-cultivation without losing sight of the origins of the arts flowing down to the current day.

Read More

In 1985, at Waseda University, Ellis Amdur gave a Japan Martial Arts Society presentation on “Self-Defense in Japan.”  There, he quoted a Buddhist precept, “Do no unnecessary harm.” This phrase, which I have never forgotten, was reinforced by what I was told by my Tatsumi-ryū seniors. It has become part of my personal ethos ever since. For example when they explained the duties of a kaishaku, I was told that he should act at his own discretion, and not wait for the person committing seppuku to stab himself in the stomach. Rather, the kaishaku should cut the person’s neck immediately when he leans forward to pick up the dagger or short sword which will have been placed before him. Placing the blade at an appropriate distance from the person to be executed will ensure that his neck is at the optimum distance and angle for the kaishaku to cut.

Read More

In the tapestry of martial arts, I Liq Chuan (意力拳) emerges as a distinctive thread, weaving together the ancient and the modern. I Liq Chuan draws from a wellspring of principles often associated with the so-called “internal arts,” with its roots in two rare styles of Xingyiquan (鳳陽形意拳) and Baguazhang (如意八卦掌). Not much is known about either, and both appear to be extinct except what little remains embedded within I Liq Chuan’s partner training methods. 

Referred to as the “Martial Art of Awareness,” it has gained a reputation for revealing the secrets of the old masters. Emphasizing mindfulness, the integration of mind and body, and an almost scientific exploration of self, I Liq Chuan’s curriculum is logically structured, allowing for a systematic progression in learning. Through unique training methods and a focus on tangible and measurable results, it offers an approach that reaches people from all walks of life, particularly those seeking a deeper understanding of movement, balance, and the nature of what it really means to be a human being. Under the watchful eye and guiding hand of Grandmaster Sam Chin, the popularity of I Liq Chuan has surged. With schools now operating in more than 20 countries around the globe, GM Chin’s gravitas inspires practitioners across continents, transcending borders, cultures, and languages.

Read More

On 26, Rue d’Enghien, in Paris, a plaque indicates that here is practiced: Boxe Française, modern savate, stick, cane, umbrella, fencing and weight training. In my earlier years, I crossed the porch and arrived in a courtyard, then took the well-polished wooden staircase to go up to the second floor. The master was sitting behind his desk,  waiting to introduce my son and me to the place. On the left was a room for massage, and on the right, the training room with its impeccable parquet floor. At the back, to the right, was the room dedicated to weight training, equipped with dumbbells and apparatus made by Jean Lafond himself. In the annex were the changing rooms with a shower and a sauna, also self-made. A curiosity decorated the locker rooms: old black suitcases with the names of the regulars who stored their boxing gear there.

Read More

At a university symposium on budō  some years ago, I was sitting beside Meik Skoss during a lecture on the subject of the 13^th century scroll, the “Burning of the Sanjo Palace,” given by an Asian Art professor who knew a great deal about Asian art, but nothing whatsoever about historical Japanese martial arts or the culture of the bushi. The professor pointed out a detail of the luridly illustrated scroll, a warrior who was, she noted, “clutching a couple of the heads of his victims.” Quietly Meik said to me, “They’re not ‘victims.’ They’re enemies.”

Read More

Partly because of my just released novel, Little Bird and the Tiger, which, among other themes, explores the tension between tradition and modernity in the Meiji period, the thought of Amur (Siberian) tigers come to mind. They are the largest big cats – growing up to 400 kilos. As you surely know, they live in the far north, surviving comfortably in weather under -50 degrees centigrade.They hunt and kill brown bears (!) When they attack, they simultaneously bite and also clamp down with their spread armed fore-paws, both teeth and claws penetrating the body of their prey as if it is one giant set of jaws. Such an attack has the spread of the bite of a tyrannosaur.  They are rare, they are marvelous, and may soon go extinct.

Read More