As most other members played with him relatively softly because of his rank, I thought he would be up for a higher challenge. Entering into the ring, as is characteristic of Capoeira’s philosophy of Malicia, I threw a kick at him right off the bat to catch him off guard.  As I expected he would, he responded with sound timing, got out of the way, and came right back in after me. After that, we were engaged, and despite occasional gasps from onlookers for ‘close calls’ we both found flow. (I found it in my needing to balance aggressiveness with control, and wanting to push him. He found it in the game itself.) As we played, I kicked full speed, so that if he didn’t move, he would catch one to the face. Finally, when he left himself exposed during a kick, I quickly shoulder checked him, knocking him off his balance, but not off his feet. With that , a more experienced senior member signaled that he wanted to enter the Roda.  As soon as I threw my first kick, he slammed me to the ground, and then walked out mumbling something about my bad attitude.

Although I could certainly understand the perspective of the senior (and as such took no personal offense to his action) the experience reminded me that there is another element that is also of utmost importance in finding flow- the teacher.

Oftentimes, in the world of both sports and martial arts, it takes ‘two to tango’, and the instructor can play just as large a role in a student’s ability to find flow as the student themselves. The unfortunate reality however is that not all instructors take the time to know and understand their students. Due to misinterpretations of their personalities and/or skill sets, many an instructor short-changes their own students ability to find flow (and consequently enjoy their training and stick with it) because they either over or (as I believed to be the case this time) under-challenge the student.

As aforementioned in the last blog, the importance of this balance is something that I’ve come to know well from my competition taekwondo days. When I became a state champion in under a week after receiving my black belt, I was told to compete more at the state level to get more experience, but the fact of the matter is, even if only due to my youthful arrogance, after that win, state and local level competitions were uninteresting. As such, my performance became lackluster, and I was told that I had no business trying to compete at a higher level, which prompted me to go to Korea on my own to seek out the best.

Unfortunately however, at that time, I was neither physically or psychologically prepared for the rigors of training full-time with world class athletes, and despite improving by leaps and bounds while I was there, I also got totally burned out.

Eventually, this lead me to believe that ‘I didn’t have what it took’ to be a high level fighter, (despite a room full of metals and trophies that would say otherwise) and to my retirement from competition altogether.

Had I not come to Japan, and stumbled into action cinema by chance, this experience more than likely would have been the end of my martial arts career.

 As martial arts instructors, (or teachers in anything, really) I think it’s always easy to fit students into generic, cookie-cutter molds and equate singular attributes such as age, stamina, fitness, or confidence with certain teaching styles. The great challenge however, comes in taking the time and energy to find the real person in your student; their strengths, their weaknesses, their fears and their passions. It is through this, and only through this that we can guide them to flow.

As my experience in that Capoeira Roda has shown, this is certainly not always the easy road to take, but as educational research scholar, K. Patricia Cross once put it, “The task of the excellent teacher is to stimulate “apparently ordinary” people to unusual effort. The tough problem is not in identifying winners: it is in making winners out of ordinary people.”

Chuck Johnson is an internationally recognized martial arts action film actor and author. He currently teaches martial arts and action in Tokyo and Saitama, Japan and his next film Sukeban Hunters will be released this summer.

Chuck’s Action Demo Reel
www.chuck-n-action.com

As time went on however, and I continually worked towards my goal, I stopped focusing on the ground ahead of me. Of course it was in my field of vision, but instead my concentration shifted to the ebb and flow of the board beneath me, and visual concentration on the slope wasn’t as necessary.

By early afternoon, my awareness of the slope, my board, and the snow had caught up with the skill level necessary to achieve my goal, and make my runs effortlessly. It was at that point that I not only started to actualize peak performance- but also peak enjoyment.

I was in flow. Dr. Mihaly Csikszentimihalyi, the architect of the notion of flow defines it as  “an experience that is rewarding in and of itself, a state in which we feel we are one with the experience and in which‘ action and awareness are merged” For myself, this equated to runs that were going by in what seemed like a heartbeat. On each run, I was in a heavenly, almost blistful state of perfect balance, and it stayed that way for most of the afternoon. Unfortunately however, having achieved my goal on this slope, I started to get bored, and the feeling started to wane. Eventually, my mind began to wander and I (painfully) wiped out, and ended my heavenly experience with a crash. At that point, I decided that that meant it was time to up my game, and move on to the next higher slope, and the process began all over again.

Oddly enough, on a microcosmic scale, the pattern actually reminded me of my competition days in Taekwondo. My first local tournament was nerve-racking to the point of almost making me nauseous, but with time, experience, failure, and adaption, stepping into the ring became a natural process that I could acclimate to. With that acclimation came relaxation; and with relaxation came success. So much in fact that only 6 days after receiving my black belt I was able to sweep my division and become a state champion. After that peak however, I became bored competing at the state level and with time, I lost the focus again. My mind began to wander (in both training, and competition), and my performance became lackluster- until I decided to go Korea for higher level training.

It is this balancing act between challenge and relaxation that I’ve found is the essential element in not just effecting progress in the development of a skill, but in truly enjoying the process as well. As Professor Tal Ben Shahar put it in ‘Happier’ , if the difficulty of a task is high and our skill is low, we experience anxiety; if our skill level is high and the difficulty of the task is low, we experience boredom. We experience flow [only] when the difficulty of the task, and our skill level correspond.” Either way, without this balance, we get ourselves nowhere.

I had once read that only one out of every one hundred people who starts a martial art ever becomes a blackbelt, and that only one out of every one hundred black belts ever becomes a master. Perhaps, be it by design or by chance, that one individual out of a thousand who finds his way to mastery is not the toughest, smartest or the strongest- but that 1 person out of a 1,000 who found their flow.

References:

http://www.brainchannels.com/thinker/mihaly.html

http://books.google.com/books?id=oJ3uZnRm2gsC&pg=PA86&dq=happier,+flow,+Tal+Ben+Shahar&ei=WKKLS-n6MZX6lQT8mImYDQ&cd=1#v=onepage&q=&f=false

Chuck Johnson is an internationally recognized martial arts action actor, and published martial arts author.
He currently lives in Japan, and teaches action and martial arts in Tokyo, and Saitama. His next film, Sukeban Hunters will be released this summer.

Chuck’s action demo reel

Gasshuku: essentially, it means ‘shared lodging’. Looking at further meanings, it can also mean ‘boarding school’, or ‘training camp’. So it has definite, pragmatic definitions. The first gasshuku in which I took part in Japan was arranged by my kendo instructor for the middle of summer. He was talking about eight hours plus training a day, with guest i-ai instructors and a visit to the temple for morning obeisance. First day, morning practice: lots of warming up, he says we have a long three days, then some focused basics, but enough to bring back that familiar blister on the ball of my left foot. Then he brings out the extra weapons cases, heavy, tapering… I’m steeling myself for the real training to begin.

He slowly unzips one… “Anyone for tennis?” he asks. “We’ll have a break first, cool off in the pool outside.” Who am I to argue with my sensei, especially while he is brandishing a tennis racket?

Shugyou is even more of a challenge. As with much Japanese, the word itself has a certain ambiguity, which looking at a lot of Western websites’ definitions seems to open it to any old interpretation. And to be honest, a lot of Japanese sensei too, who don’t know of its origins, or who pander to the Japanophiles, will invent their own definitions. And as with much Japanese, homonyms abound! Shugyou can be ‘pursuit of knowledge’ with the kanji for ‘to polish/master/discipline oneself’ and ‘business/vocation/art’. Or, it can be the same ‘shu’ plus ‘going/journey’. In the second version it always means ‘austere/ascetic practice’ but the first case can do too!

The original meaning of the second one was literally to polish yourself by walking the way and was used originally by Buddhist monks and later by samurai adepts, who on reaching a certain basic level of understanding, would be encouraged to travel from master to master or even seek other students with whom to test their knowledge or technique. So again, we have a completely practical method of training which came to get a more esoteric meaning, and nowadays the road travelled is usually the mental/spiritual one.

As with gasshuku, the modern practice of shugyou can take many forms, but that’s for another day’s post. So what did I end up doing this New Year? With a young daughter to look after, I didn’t have a gasshuku I could go to, and shugyou would have to take its most pragmatic form. So just a quick mention for another laudable Japanese New Year’s tradition: O-souji (‘spring’ cleaning!). I washed the bathroom in horse stance, and  scrubbed the kitchen floor in ab-roller fashion, trying to keep to the traditional 108 wax-ons/wax-offs!

The road is not always as severe as you would think, and nor is it as mysterious. I have beliefs, but I’m no monk. I have had to defend myself, but I’m not training for self-defence. I have some discipline, but I’m no samurai. Just as I am no ring fighter, no action star, no yamabushi, nothing special. But with the right attitude, the severity can be there in whatever you do, and the mystery will follow in the depths you can push yourself to. For an ordinary man, not in search of anything in particular but definitely on the road, your home can be your gasshuku, and the mundane and everyday your shugyou. A blister from kendo basics and a blister from scrubbing the floor feel pretty much the same, though a word of warning: a kendo blister after a soak in the pool is a new kind of severe!

As my good friend, sometime kungfu student, sometime action teacher, and established Gaijinpot blogger Chuck Johnson said here, there are many paths, and they are all different and yet the same.

By and large, asking which martial art is the best is like asking, which car is the best: the answer depends on your tastes and needs.

Although many argue that Mixed Martial Arts and Muay Thai, are the most effective  fighting systems, neither one is for the faint of heart, and telling someone that they are the only way to go for martial arts training is like telling someone that the only way to be safe on the highway is to drive a hummer.

Furthermore, aside from self-defense, there are a myriad of other factors that one should consider when choosing a martial art to train in. While any martial art, can be enjoyed and mastered by anyone who takes the time to really commit to it, different martial arts (much like different cars) tend to suit different kinds of people.

Olympic Taekwondo which is fast-paced, explosive, kicking-oriented is more apty suited to the those who are light on their feet, and have wirey builds, while Judo on the other hand tends more to favor those with a stocky build and a lower center of gravity.

While some systems are movement philosophies which develop one’s spirit and energy by training the body (i.e. boxing, MMA, kickboxing, Capoeira) other systems (Aikido, Qi Gong, Tai chi) work the opposite way, and develop physical strength, health and well-being by means of training one’s ‘ki’.

Other factors to consider, are the prices, and proximity to one’s house (and consequently how realistic it is that you will actually make it out to school regularly). Martial arts training should not be ridiculously expensive, and true masters will not try to rip you off. In fact, if you can’t afford the price, most will find ways to let you train in exchange for your helping them out. Frank Dux, the first westerner to win the KUMITE, and the person whom the film BLOODSPORT is based off of, was incredibly poor, and used to clean the outside of a master’s school in exchange for the master leaving the blinds open and letting him train along outside. (In the case of my own school back in Michigan, I actually did something similar by  helping out with maintainence, and cleaning inside and out)

Lastly, even if one has an idea of the martial system that they would like to learn, and have found a few schools that are within a reasonable distance, the last thing to consider is the quality and teaching style of the instructors. While some people may respond well to strict instructors who demand discipline, others may feel more comfortable around masters who are more easy-going. (As a rule older, or higher ranking masters are generally a lot more relaxed, and younger and lower ranking masters are generally more strict). Again, it is simply a matter of one’s tastes and needs, and when it doubt, much like a car, the best way to see if a school suits you is to take it for a spin, and see how it feels.

Chuck Johnson is an action actor, and a martial artist of 16 years. In addition to action films, he currently teaches action, martial arts, and stretching techniques in Tokyo, and Saitama, and also works as a personal trainer.

www.chuck-n-action.com

The idea that Capoeira and breakdancing have borrowed movements from each other is certainly nothing new. One need only attend any given Hoda (a gathering of Capoeiristas) to see such classic break dancing moves as freezes, 1990s or headspins and one need one watch any given break-dancing battle or music video for that matter to see Capoeira movements like the Au sen mau. (1:59)

At the same time however, the parallels do not stop here.  Both were pioneered in  predominantly African communities. Both are done to music, done outside on hard surfaces, and done in a circle. Practitioners of both are given nicknames that reflect their personality, physical attributes, or skills which aids in the development of a family atmosphere within members of the group. In the streets, when opposing groups meet to battle, both would (and oftentimes still do) lead to real fights breaking out. All of this would seem to suggest too much in the way of similarity for it to be mere coincidence.

While breakdancing is only a few decades old, Capoeira’s roots extend back to the slave trade, and many historians argue much farther than that. Although breakdancing is said to have developed to interpret the ‘breaks’ in music, and has it’s roots in the dance movements of James Brown, the Lindy Pop and the Charleston, given that New York has had a growing but ununifed Brazilian population since the 1970s, it’s entirely possible that young Capoeiristas were having hodas not just amongst themselves, but with other impoverished youth whom they were living around, and to other kinds of music. This may also explain why breakdancing evolved as the first dance system that utilizes movements on the hands (and other body parts) which are close to the ground, much like in the contemporary form of Capoeira and the traditional form, Capoeira Angola.

As compelling as all of these arguments may be however, as with the history of pretty much anything, there are still questions which may never be answered, and those who will argue for or against the argument of their choosing until they are blue in the face. Many breakers are quite sensitive about claims that breakdancing may have had it’s roots outside of the states, and get just as defensive as many Taekwondoists do when you explore the fact that TKD may partially have roots outside of Korea. Breakers often cite the fact that breaking couldn’t have evolved from Capoeira purely based on the fact that ‘pure’ Capoeira movements didn’t start appearing in breakdancing circles until Capoeira really starting emerging globally in the 1990s. ..and they have a point.

While the debate rages on however, I’m simply going to enjoy both for the incredible artforms that they are, and meanwhile continue working on my Queda De Rins.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KfEq3bxb5z8

References:
History of Breakdancing (http://www.essortment.com/all/wherefindcanh_riym.htm)
Similarities of Breakdance and Capoeira (http://www.uwm.edu/~dosemag2/similaritiesofbreakdanceandcapoeira.htm)
Little Brazil, New York City – (http://www.zonalatina.com/Zldata132.htm)

Chuck Johnson is an action actor, and a martial artist of 16 years. In addition to action films, he currently teaches action, martial arts, and stretching techniques in Tokyo, and Saitama, and also works as a personal trainer.

www.chuck-n-action.com

Christian Tissier Shihan is an Aikido instructor who holds the rank of 7th dan Aikikai. He spent over 7 years training daily at the Aikido World Headquarters in the 70’s and was the very first foreigner to have reached such a distinction (Shihan rank were reserved, until then, to Japanese instructors). He is now heading the French Aikido federation (FFAAA) which counts more than 30,000 practitioners. I had been trying to conduct an interview with

Guillaume Erard: Rather than going through your youth and years in Japan over again, let us investigate your practice a little more. When one sees you perform an Aikido technique, the amplitude and the gracefulness of your motions strike first. Is aesthetic an important part of your research?

Christian Tissier: No, in Aikido, we are trying to reach the purity through gestures in spite of a physical constraint represented by our partner/adversary. As a consequence, as soon as this conflict is going to be resolved, keeping in mind a research towards precision, placement and economy, the motion will be closer to purity. If it is pure, then it is natural and therefore, it is beautiful. As you see, the aesthetic is not an aim in itself. Aikido is a martial discipline but it is also an art and as soon as we use the body in from this perspective, we must work on the purity of the gesture. Aesthetic is the final out come of all this work.

G.E.: When you practice, you seem totally relaxed. In fact, during the seminar you just gave, you showed that if we get blocked by uke, we can conserve this relaxed state by just changing to another movement.

C.T.: That is not exactly true. My conception of a martial art is that if there is a block, we should not say “I can’t do that, therefore I have to do something else”. Actually, I try to do the opposite, if there is a difficulty, I do not try to avoid it but instead, I try to find an appropriate solution by changing angle or posture but not technique. That is what I was trying to show you during the seminar, in particular on kotegaeshi. Quite often on this technique, we feel that we cannot go any further for a whole variety of reasons. As soon as we cannot go further, no point trying, it means that we came to the end of that action, however, another action has to start as a result and we should not try to escape the contact.

To answer your question about the relaxed state, one of the aims of Budo is the suppression of fears. Wanting to become stronger than everybody else has no meaning. We should just be working on trying to overcome our own apprehensions. This is why the educational system that we put in place during an Aikido class has as an objective to suppress situations of refusal, exclusion, and non-communication. The more we will suppress these fears, the more we will find easy to go towards the others but it does not mean at all that we will become invincible. In my opinion, a well mastered, purified technique will allow us to work on ourselves and trigger an easy way of communication through the movement. Relaxation arises from that.

G.E.: About communication, you put a particular emphasis on the relationship that must exist between Tori and Uke, where both must try their best to help the other improve. This is however often regarded as connivance.

C.T.: Seeing things like that show a very poor interpretation of this relationship. There can be no teaching system without codes. If we decide to plays tennis together, I will not turn up with a baseball bat, otherwise we will find very difficult to play together. Whatever the system, we will define codes. We wear white keikogi, this is a code; we practice on a tatami, this is also a code. Then we will decide to do katatedori from a static position, this is a code too, there is no action. We don’t push or pull; we let the partner perform his technique. We establish codes at the beginning and from these codes, we will organise the structure the technique.

Of course, at the beginning, there will probably be almost no sensation. For example, we will talk about tenkan linked to the centre but in the beginning, we will just see a pivot and perhaps the idea of both partners looking in the same direction but no connection really. However, if you work with a Uke who is better than you, he will put you in a situation where you can understand what you are looking for.

At the end of the day, what interests me most is being able to practice with people whose codes are different from mine and to make it work nonetheless! That is precisely why I like to practice with people I don’t know, beginners, tall people, big people, karateka, judoka and so on. I like practicing with everybody because it shows that the technique can work without codes: this is the application of the technique. But before getting there, the learning process has to rely on codes.

There are of course some education systems that are totally different from mine. Some are very strict and precise but sometimes so stuck within their own codes that they can’t free themselves from it. That is a shame…

G.E.: We are often told that Aikido is based onto two great principles: irimi and tenkan. Seeing you, it seems that you emphasise more on the latest with big spiral motions. Is it a choice of yours or simply a way that fits with your body?

C.T.: Frankly, I have the feeling that I am practicing an aikido of irimi. The confusion might come from the fact that we do not have the same notion of irimi. Irimi is not about smacking the partner across the face each time he moves or leaves an opening. For me, irimi is about getting to the core of the movement. Ma sensitivity in terms of practice comes a lot from Kenjutsu (Kashima Shin Ryu) and this type of work is very direct. Then again, it depends of everybody’s definition of irimi and tenkan but I really think that physically and mentally, my Aikido is more irimi than it is tenkan.

Regarding the spiral, this is again an irimi motion. The spiral has a core; therefore, each time we will find the ideal position around which to turn, we will take up speed and get toward the centre. In the end, we will enter towards the partner. At that particular moment, we are totally irimi!

G.E.: You often say that Aikido is an education system based on a martial discipline. According to you, what do people develop through the practice of this discipline?

C.T.: Well, that is very variable according to the individual but if we speak of Aikido in terms of education system, we must not forget the martial frame. This martial aspect has specifically been chosen. We could have chosen painting, sculpture, Zen are many other things. What sometimes pushes people towards martial arts is a taste for fighting or confrontation. In a martial discipline, there are intrinsic notions of constraint and sanction. Our education system which aim is to make us progress as human beings will rely on this martial context. Each mistake should be sanctioned, either by the teacher or by the impossibility to perform the technique but because we are on the mat, we get a new chance to start over. We must take advantage of this new chance, not to repeat the same mistake but to resume a motion in which that particular error is erased.

I don’t agree with people who say that to progress is to do better. For me, progression means making less and less mistakes, perfecting our movements and not presenting any opening. The essence of Budo is the absence of openings, waki ga nai, which means never leaving an opening, either through our actions or our words. In one of my books, I had copied the following citation from an etiquette school called Ogasawara. On the main gate of this school is written: “When you are correctly seated in the ideal position, even the rudest person cannot disturb you”.

It is our behaviour that allows us not to leave any opening. The martial education offers what I call “constants of the Way” which will be attitude, management of distance and vision. These three constants work together. It is not very difficult to put into practice, we can already say that this is martial arts but nothing happens yet: we are not into the motion. In order to get into the motion, we will have to summon another natural principle, the technique. Why is it a natural principle? Because since the beginnings, people have tried to develop techniques in order to perform tasks more easily and efficiently. The notion of technique cannot disregard the other natural notions. This is therefore just something that adds itself up. A well performed technique creates an economy of movement and energy. The principle of economy is also natural. This is what we should try to reach.

On top of all that, you can add principles such as communication, research of purity etc. I really think that there are some Aikido principles that have not yet been discovered but that are nonetheless natural and that we will have to add to our education system in order to enrich it.

G.E.: About natural principles, we often hear about Ki, the energy flow. You don’t speak much about it though…

C.T.: No I don’t. The reason is that it is a very confusing notion. I have seen quite a bit in Aikido, I have met quite a few Sensei and I must say that the ones who speak of it the most are often the ones who have the poorest technique. Of course, this is not true for everybody but Ki is not tangible. Ki is within us. There is Ki everywhere, either we know how to use it or we don’t. The fundamental issue with Ki is its flow. In terms of Aikido vocabulary, we have Ki and Kokyu, which is the vehicle for Ki. The translation of Kokyu is “breathing” but to be more accurate, in reality, Kokyu is the exchange between the two.

The bottom line is that if you practice with your stiff shoulders up to your ears, the Ki won’t flow, any acupuncture practitioner will tell you. As a consequence, until the technique is perfect, there will be no Ki, no natural flow. To me, people who really have Ki don’t feel it because everything happens naturally within them.

We could of course develop exercises such as the ones proposed by Qigong in order to specifically work on breathing. We could also specifically work on flexibility or other things but to what end? I consider Aikido as a whole system that as been well thought. It is therefore useless to concentrate on only one aspect of the art, in particular if it is to the expense of practice time. If we have to specifically work on flexibility, we can go to a specialist, same for breathing but we should not mix everything up.

To get back to the Ki I prefer not to say too much about it as I think the discourses about this topic are often very misleading.

G.E.: Your choice is therefore to focus solely on the technique.

C.T: That is right because the technique will unlock the body! Once you have unlocked your body and removed all fears, the gesture will be fluid and this will allow more kokyu. If you add an intention to this kokyu, the Ki will naturally occur.

G.E.: Everyone knows you had a very strong bond with Seigo Yamaguchi Sensei; however, you developed a style that is very different from his, in appearance at least.

C.T.: In fact, there are two masters who had a great influence on my practice. The second Doshu (Kisshomaru Ueshiba) was an important model to me, in particular for the basic techniques. I also owe a lot to Yamaguchi Sensei technically of course but also for many other things such as freedom, applications and rigour. Him and I, we had a sort of father-son relationship to such extend that at the end of his life, he wanted to buy a house on the south coast of France in order to be living closer from me.

To answer your question, I don’t know whether I do things like him or not, this is not my purpose as a teacher. In fact, he did not want us to be the slaves of his technique and he would probably not have been happy if I had become his clone. I mostly integrated the principles he transmitted to me.

G.E.: We sometimes hear about a pre and post war Aikido dichotomy. If at all, you have been one of the main actors for the evolution of Aikido in France and abroad. In your opinion, what has changed in Aikido?

C.T.: I find this question rather amusing because when I returned from Japan, people said that what I was doing was different. The thing is that I was just back from seven years spent at the Aikikai. From my perspective, it is the people who stayed in France that were doing something different. I was only repeating what I had learnt at the Hombu Dojo, I did not invent the techniques. Moreover, I had been recognised by my peers at the age of 24, close student of the Doshu and much attached to Yamaguchi Sensei so I really don’t think that I have been the actor of a change in the practice of Aikido. One should not mistake what one thinks Aikido is and what is really being practiced at the Aikikai.

When I arrived in Japan, I was a second Dan from Mutsuro Nakazono Sensei and I had been to all the summer courses of Nobuyoshi Tamura Sensei so I thought I had a pretty good level. Once I got to the Hombu Dojo, as I saw the Doshu Kisshomaru Ueshiba, I really wondered what he was doing. It was very different and all my certainties had

to be challenged and corrected. I fact, I have to say that at first, I did not like what I saw when I met the Doshu, I thought he was stumbling. Of course I was wrong; I only knew what I was used to. These discrepancies between what we think we know and what is; are what leads us to think that there was an evolution.

There is however one sort of evolution going on, it is the evolution of a teacher during his lifetime. I remember Miyamoto Sensei, at the time, in Japan; he only practiced to destroy his partner. Nobody except the group I was in wanted to train with him. Nowadays, he is a charming man who takes care of his Ukes on the mat but of course, he is 60 now. He changed, as does everybody. What I mean is that when we are 20 years old, we must behave as a 20 years old on the mat too but we must also accept that we change in practice, status and age of course.

To finish, of course Aikido, as any other discipline, had an evolution. If we compare the Ukes of the beginnings with people today, the difference is significant. It is easy to explain because the Ukes from the beginnings were judoka. Today, practitioners move more freely, more spontaneously, faster so of course, the technique is not the same as in the beginning. I will try to explain to you what I mean. When I was a kid, when even a mediocre karateka was delivering a mawashi geri to the face of the opponent, it left us in admiration. Nowadays, kids are so used to video games and movies that they are used to see a guy doing six turns around himself before even kicking. Youngsters are therefore harder to impress, they live within a fantasy about martial arts that does not fit reality anymore. The imagination as changed as well as the conception of the techniques and their applications. This is normal and Aikido changes following this principle.

We cannot say that Aikido is fixed; it changes constantly, thanks goodness for that, otherwise, if students don’t become better than their teachers, in 50 years, there won’t be any Aikido anymore! What do not change are the principles.

G.E.: About the fantasies with which kids who play video games deal with, do you feel that there is a gap with the new generations in terms of attitudes and values?

C.T.: Frankly, I don’t know. Maybe this is the case but I think that young people who come to Aikido understand well the difference. To start with, they accept a whole lot of rules that they would not necessarily accept at home or elsewhere. Then, the respect etiquette, community life and come to train regularly. Maybe we seem to them like dinosaurs but what is most important is the behaviour that we have ourselves and the example we give them. If, as teachers, we are able to detect a dedicated or talented kid, they are also able to make out if you are a model, if you have the natural authority or if you are just an old fart. In my opinion, the key to success is to be able to deliver messages to young people without having to act as youngsters ourselves.

We have to be honest and direct, that is all. In terms of practice, it is wrong to believe that kids are not willing to make efforts and sacrifices. A kid who practices seriously break dancing will deliver as much effort as the one practicing Aikido. Both are just as difficult!

G.E.: Now, let’s talk a little bit about politics. You just awarded on of the very rare Shihan titles given to non-Japanese to your friend Dany Leclerre (7th Dan from Belgium). You were the very first non-Japanese to receive this distinction, does it bring back memories?

C.T.: Well, the truth is that for me, things were not so simple. When I was a 6th Dan, nothing was formalised, I was sometimes receiving letters, either from the Aikikai or from Endo Sensei where they referred to me as “Tissier Shihan” but it was not clear since this title was not being officially awarded at the times. After a while, a polemic started to appear, originating from and article published in Aikido Today magazine (American magazine edited by Susan Perry between 1983 and 2005, stopping after 100 issues) where Mitsugi Saotome Sensei and other Shihan were giving their opinion on the subject. From that, the Aikikai decided to make things clear by officially awarding the title.

The title of Shihan is either awarded to a country or to an individual. Today, we awarded it to Belgium through Dany Leclerre, kind of a thank you gesture for all what he did for Aikido but also to make sure that everybody knows that he is the one in charge of the transmission of Aikido in this country. It doesn’t mean that he will be able to grade people around the world though. Others can do it however, each case is different. It is still a bit of a complicated business alright…

G.E.: As far as we know, there are only about 15 non-Japanese Shihan that have officially been awarded by the Aikikai, it is very little. Are the Japanese still quite protectionists?

C.T.: Indeed this is very few. Of course they are doing protectionism, towards the Aikikai in the first place. Everybody knows that you have to wait for some time between Dan grades. This rule applies for the whole world except for the Japanese uchi-deshi [live in students] of the Hombu Dojo… These guys are from the house so as soon as they travel abroad, they quickly get promoted. Anyway, that is part of the game, and we know who is who so there is no real surprise with this system. Everybody knows what everyone is worth. They also know themselves what to expect from non-Japanese masters.

G.E.: With the general level of skills increasing, will there be a time when we don’t need Japan anymore?

C.T.: Yes, we now can do without Japan as much as Japan could do without us. However, I think it is very important not to underestimate the interaction that exists between the two. For example, Japan could not really do without us in terms of diffusion of Aikido with for example our national organisations and the international federation that give them credibility beyond of their own frontiers. It is also important to realise that a Sensei in Japan is only known within his dojo and the ones of his students. Don’t think that these guys teach seminars with 300 people, far from it. They have to come to Europe to see that happen. For q young teacher in his fifties, coming to Europe is a huge gain in credibility for him. On the technical level, we are as competent in Europe and in the US to teach Aikido but I think it is always interesting to go back to the origins because the teaching is different. What the Japanese lack is the systematic analysis of Aikido. Thankfully, not everybody is like that but in general, pedagogy is not their one of their strength! If you ask why a technique is like this or like that, they will just answer you “because it is”. This is the kind of typical answers you get in Japan. As a consequence, an 8th Dan Sensei from Japan would probably fail the Brevet d’Etat [French teaching qualification] here. I have often discussed about this with Seishiro Endo Sensei. Even though he is my Sempai, he sometimes asked me if such and such technique existed in the Ura version. Our pragmatic logic and our sense of analysis allowed us to deconstruct very early on the techniques and to classify them. We bring a lot to the Japanese on that respect.

On the opposite, we don’t have the same culture and we don’t have the same way to deal with problems. The Japanese often allow you to question yourself on very subtle notions and this is a great way to progress. Japanese will make you doubt because it obliges you to reconsider what you know.

To sum up, yes, we could do without Japan but both would lose a lot.

G.E.: Thank you very much Sensei, enjoy your flight and see you soon on the mat.

C.T: My pleasure.

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A video of Chrsitian Tissier: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MIVo68o6Sg

Christian Tissier’s official website

As a scientist, I have often encountered teachers who considered the epistemological approach as an aberration in the study of a Budo, sometimes even like an insult directed towards their work or their own persona. Today, I would like to discuss the benefits there are in studying a Japanese martial art (taking my own speciality, Aikido as example) while keeping in mind what the Enlightened have brought to us.

We are living in a time where pseudoscience and superstition enjoy a great popularity. This would be quite harmless if it was not undermining our critical thinking and by extension, our general knowledge. The human brain has this tendency to seek for meaning within all the experiences that we encounter every day. While this capacity is essential for helping individuals to make sense of the various stimuli that they are constantly subjected to, it sometimes misfires, leaving us in desperate “need” of quick and simple explanations to concepts that can be difficult to grasp. According to Daniel C. Dennett, a famous professor in cognitive sciences; the fact that science admits holding only a limited amount of knowledge can become so intolerable for our spirit that we will tend to seek elsewhere some absolute truths, unchanging and therefore reassuring: dogmas. It is in these gaps left by science that we can often find the most detestable methods and discourses.

The essential challenge for today’s martial art practitioner is to manage dealing with a certain duality. The strict etiquette of our arts makes it rather difficult to explore and experiment on new ideas. Although progress only comes from a critical state of mind, these notions are quite unwelcome within a dojo. Indeed it would be intolerable to see a student interrupting endlessly the class, asking for further explanations or contradicting the teacher. What is there to do then? How can we make cohabit in the most fulfilling manner a heritage coming from the times of Samurai with a modern thought process, all this without having one undermining the other?

Within religion, belief in the absence of evidence is considered as a virtue but if carried within the practice of martial arts, it becomes a problem. Of course the comparison Aikido/religion does not seem pertinent to me since Aikido has not been conceived in such a way by its creator (see the interview of André Nocquet, a direct student of O Sensei Ueshiba). It is not, of course, in our ideals of peace, neither in our codes, nor in our rituals that we have to seek for a religious manifestation. Every sport has its own codes and these are more rooted within a warfare heritage (teams/armies, colours/uniforms, position on the pitch/battlefield) than a religious practice. However, I happen to think that it is precisely in the intellectual submission and in the acceptation of anything and everything that we tend to lean towards the religious.

I have heard on many occasions teachers claiming that they, and no one else, held the only true Aikido, as O Sensei was doing it. They generally illustrate these claims by opposing their approach to the one of other teachers, implying that these poor souls are doing fake Aikido if not, no Aikido at all. The reasonable stance is to stay sceptical in front of those who hold these kinds of discourses, if only because such claims are by definition mutually exclusive: if one is right, therefore all the others are wrong. How, as critical, yet open minded practitioners, can we get out of this nonsense? Obviously, we cannot challenge all our teachers in a deadly fight or ask them to privately demonstrate to us their might at each class. Keep in mind that we are practicing a Do, not a Jutsu. On the other hand, the attitude of being slightly sceptical should not necessarily be considered as a lack of respect. A sceptic is someone rather curious, and interested in many things. If otherwise, he would not invest time and energy into studying a discipline or a subject. The most important thing to keep in mind is that a sceptic is by default ready to accept anything as long as a convincing body of evidence is present to support the phenomenon. As descendants of the Enlightened, we should be sceptical budoka, critical towards ourselves, our knowledge and our art while respecting our teacher and the essence of our discipline. We must of course stay open minded and lucid in front of our own ignorance in many subjects. Here is a difficult task to carry out, but not a dichotomy however!

In some places, the sheer fact of pronouncing the word “scientific” becomes an insult, a “faux pas” that the experienced practitioner would never commit and that the novice would be barely forgiven for. The words “non-overlapping magisteria” that we owe to the prestigious palaeontologist, Stephen J. Gould, often come back to my mind. According to Gould, there are domains in which science has no right of entry. Although he is clearly referring to esoteric matters and religion, I think that a lot of people which I would describe as “mystical frauds” would gladly see this rule be applied in martial arts too. We often hear people say that a discipline that has existed for a thousand years cannot be wrong or else, it would not have lasted for so long. I would say that on the contrary, if the discipline in question has not changed (progressed) along with our general knowledge, it is very likely that it will be plain wrong, or in the best case scenario, enormously incomplete. Take the theory of relativity as an example, it is agreed that any reasonably good graduate student in Physics understands relativity better than Einstein ever did. I let you draw the parallel with Aikido if you feel like it… The consequence of this is that science has heroes and texts containing groundbreaking ideas but no prophets and certainly no books of revelations. This crucial difference is the condition sine qua non for any progress to occur.

To come back to Stephen J. Gould’s proposition and although I have the greatest respect for his work, I would have to say that on the contrary to what he said, I think that it is crucial that science should be left free to investigate every aspect of our human experience. Science has no agenda, no dogma; a scientific theory is doomed to always eventually being proved wrong or incomplete and to be replaced by a better one more in accordance with the facts; reality. Science is the spirit filled with wonder of the child that discovers and experiences the surrounding world free from all preconceptions. It is however true that science currently lacks the tools necessary for the study of phenomenon such as Ki but nothing leads to think that it won’t change. We should therefore stay open minded but also critical as regards to claims that some ill intentioned or ill informed people might make.

While we are talking about Ki, I always wondered why the most famous masters had this tendency to only demonstrate their prowess on their on students. The reason which is often given to us is that it would be “too dangerous, that it takes training to be able to take it”. There is a good example in this video (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdrzBL2dHMI).

Right, in boxing; you don’t give an uppercut to a beginner. This argument sounds reasonable but it unfortunately also makes their claims hard to verify. The question I am asking is purposefully direct but not impertinent, nor disrespectful (I really mean this but I also know that some people will jump on any occasion to justify them feeling offended; be my guest). It is honestly and without malice that I ask these questions. After spending many years practicing budo and looking for these manifestations, it is actually likely that deep inside, I kind of wish that all these incredible powers exist. There are a few people who have accepted challenges to prove that their prowess were true… but with little results as is shown in this video (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gEDaCIDvj6I) where a Ki master gets punished by a MMA fighter. About MMA, these lots have their own belief system too but I will spare them for a subsequent article.

Besides exposing a fraud, this video illustrates quite vividly the auto mystification that this so called master suffers from. It is one thing to put your students in danger by teaching them mumbo jumbo but it is an entirely different thing to put yourself in the ring. The bottom line is that to do so, you have to firmly believe in your stuff. This video also leads to an interesting reflection when we realise that it is probably his own students, by their submissive attitude, who led their master to such degrees of self deception; who said there was no justice? Coming back to the first video, it is interesting to notice that it shows a very powerful feat of the human mind: the power of suggestion. The students, while they are convinced by the powers of their teacher, become automatically much more susceptible to suggestion. As we see, they fall down and suffer of an acceleration of their pulse accompanied by an abundant sweating. On the opposite, sceptic strangers remain unaffected if somewhat amused after being subjected to these contact less strikes. The famous astrophysicist Carl Sagan once said “extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidences”. The point is that it is up to the people coming up with these special feats to give the proof of their existence, the reasonable attitude being to remain sceptic unless proved otherwise.

But what about all this progress that we inherited from the Enlightenment? Is it really a good thing and is it transmissible to Aikido practice? It is well accepted that our society as a whole is less aggressive and more open; exchanges between countries having never been so rich and numerous (unless racism, obscurantism, religious fundamentalism and greed come back into action). From an individual’s point of view, we live longer, more comfortably and we are in better health. Of course, everything is not perfect and consecutively to these waves of progress, we have had to face new crucial challenges such as global warming, reduction of biodiversity, increased needs in food and drinking water and so on. I think, however, that the attitude which consists in rejecting everything modern while saying “things used to be better” shows a great incapacity in apprehending the present. The Chinese philosopher, father of taoism, Lao Tzu illustrated this fear of progress very well more than 2000 years ago when he said “experience is like a candle attached to one’s back, it only lights up the path already travelled”. Let us be serious for a moment, and youngster, even if he spends more time than is really good for him in front of the TV watching Fame Academy is not dumber than its counterpart 100 years ago, he is of course far more educated. It is also a bit dishonest to criticize progress when one benefits from all the advantages of living in an industrialised country where we can have access to scanners, chemo-therapies and where the infantile mortality is amongst the lowest in the world. Fortunately for the human species, this reactionary stance is not the common feeling and to only talk of what I know well, I would like to salute the outstanding work of the great majority of biologists who work on how to resolve the major issues that our planet faces in spite of a distrustful public opinion and unhelpful governmental policies.

For me, it is precisely this incapacity to question things which is our greatest challenge in traditional martial arts. We have this tendency to raise some people up to the status of icons possessing unreachable mastery. Of course, we do this, only relying on great deals of tales and second hand stories about their supposed supernatural capacities. MMA practitioners and other competitors have understood this well and mock us about this quite often. It is capital for us to accept the idea that we can and we should become better than our masters on a physical level as much as on a mental one. If Aikido did not evolve or improve but on the contrary, suffered from the fact that each student could not become better than his master, there would be very little remaining of what Aikido’s founder Morihei Ueshiba created. Somebody like Ueshiba Sensei was very ahead of his time in terms of mentality with his universalistic vision and his insistence on the peaceful resolution of a conflict while at a time of global war and living in an ultra-nationalist country. He was a hero of his time but to the light of today’s moral values, his opinions can now sound as very retrograde. Another vivid example is Abraham Lincoln, the heroic 16th American president who, by today’s standards, would be considered a racist and a bully. These people are therefore models in the context of their time but they cannot escape the criticism of our current society and the investigation using our modern knowledge. It is our duty to do better than them, we now know better!

In Aikido, we must give up the kind of discourses held by those who do the only true Aikido of the founder because we saw earlier that these kinds of statements are unreasonable. The only person who did the founder’s Aikido was the founder himself. Indeed, what we do is different but we must embrace this fact in order to go forward and make our discipline enter the 21st century proudly, not turning our backs to the future like the orphans of a patriarch that we never actually even met. We must see in each student of Aikido an opportunity for a new reflection, a new sensibility, a new interpretation of the fundamental principles that the founders showed us and certainly not like a corruption of Ueshiba’s teachings. This is precisely our critical thinking that will keep us from this degeneration and allow us an evolution.

To conclude, I am far from denying all that is not explainable in martial arts, I would even say that it is obvious to anyone who looks that the great masters of martial arts perform outstanding feats. However, it is only if we keep an open mind, critical thinking but also a respectful attitude that we will be able to access to the mastery of these things. They seem only supernatural because we do not understand them well and because we tend to mystify them. Supernatural and godly is always located at the limit of our knowledge. Even Newton, the brightest mind that walked this earth could not help but feeling that way. Whether we are talking about Ki or judicious timing and placement while respecting the physiological axis (bio-mechanics), it is through this shift of perspective that we will truly reach a deeper and more thorough understanding of our discipline. An analogy could be a child who would watch a stage magic show in amazement from the audience and later, would go to see the show again from backstage. In Aikido, it is when we try to be more Japanese than the Japanese that we deny our inheritance because in these times, we deny to ourselves the possibility to apprehend our discipline with our own occidental sensitivity in spite of the fact that this art has been conceived to be universal.

Descartes taught us to ask questions so let’s dare asking them, but let’s do it politely, respectfully and let’s stay open to all that this universe has of mysteries and wonders but without pouring the syrup of superstition all over it and without wrapping it with the cheap, shiny paper of mystification. This, to me, is the key to build up this famous golden bridge that should unite Orient and Occident so the two can at last understand each other well.

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A very interesting analysis and discussion on Aikido’s origins by Olivier Gaurin

Not really martial arts related but a great discussion with illusionist Derren Brown on pseudo-science, wishful thinking and New Age business.

Not too long ago, I started shootboxing training. Even though it’s a relatively unfamiliar arena with a different rule system than what I am used to, it’s interesting to see how I can adapt what I know to this particular combat situation, and I can still fight with a fair degree of confidence.

The funny thing about it though, is that this confidence and adaptability didn’t come from from my record of competition wins- it came from overcoming a major loss. Several years ago, I was asked to do a kickboxing match here in Tokyo. As I was the “big mean foreigner” against a local Japanese opponent, the fight’s promoters, (and seemingly everyone else involved) thought it necessary to make sure that I didn’t win. The rules were skewed in his favor, I was asked to lose an obscene amount of weight, and I was made to wear heavier gloves. The fight went as can be expected, but it was still a painful loss to suffer nonetheless.

The sting of racial prejudice hurt- but I’d dealt with that before, so that wasn’t the worst part of it. The worst part was the myriad of regrets I had after the fight was over. There were mistakes I made both in how I trained, and how I fought. There were things that I tolerated in the fight set up that I shouldn’t have. During the fight, instead of fighting to KO my opponent, I resigned to not getting knocked out myself or taken off my feet.

After the match (and for quite a long time afterwards) all these things kept resonating throughout my mind, and I just couldn’t seem to let go, and get over it. It was difficult to keep my head up- not just as a fighter, but as a foreigner living in Japan. It was also difficult not to succumb to reverse racism, and hate back.

At the same time though, looking back on that experience, I wouldn’t take that loss (or the period following it) back for anything. The pain of that loss drove me to not just examine the inherent flaws of the particular martial system that I was trained to fight in, but also the psychological flaws that I as a fighter, (and a person) would need to overcome in order to adapt to situations like that.

The internal battle I faced to not hate back, caused me to grow to be a bigger person, and pushed me to develop an even deeper understanding of the cultural psychology of Japan- a process that is responsible for a lot of the success I have today. The lack of good representation I had during the fight made me realize how important it is to be able to communicate on one’s own, and drove me to not just enter two Japanese language programs at once, but also to resume my study of Korean (previously my strongest foreign language).

Looking back, I can say in all honesty that the gains that I made as a person by losing that fight far outweighted the gains that I would have made by winning it.

In the poem, ‘If ‘ Rudyard Kipling states:
If you can meet with Triumph and disaster, and treat those two imposters just the same [you'll be a MAN, my son!]

Although I read this quote years ago, it took me until now to truly internalize what he meant- that ultimately, life isn’t meant to be fair; live is meant to be lived. This is the case regardless of the circumstances we may have to face.

While it may be the victories that give us confidence, allow us to silence the mind, move without thought, and discover the artform in all things, it is the loses that are our greatest teachers, and the process of fighting our way past them that gives us strength, character, and wisdom. As such, they are of equal importance, and equal value, and we cannot grow as people without a fair amount of experience in both.

Since that match, I have never seen or met my opponent again. As he lives outside of Tokyo, and I only know his first name, it’s unlikely that I ever actually will. If I ever get the chance to however, at this point, I can be proud that I could calmly shake his hand, I could articulately speak to him in his own language, and do so with an understanding of the cultural background that he comes from …and I could kick him in the head.

The more I spend time in Tokyo practicing at the Aikikai, the more I realize that the world of Aikido is indeed very small. The beauty of this is that it is during random encounters and acquaintances that we make the most crucial experiences for our personal development. Such an acquaintance happened once again on the tatami of the Aikikai Hombu Dojo. Today, I would like to take you for a journey through time, to the discovery of a discipline which is the ancestor of Aikido. Those of you a bit more erudite on the subject know of course that I am talking about the Daito-ryu Aiki- jujutsu.

It is the end of my first week of intensive daily practice and while I am enjoying the 30 minutes break between the Doshu’s and Yokota Sensei’s class, I see approaching a tall, well built gentleman who looks kind of familiar. I must admit that this impression is quite common when you practice at the Aikikai because of the numerous famous individuals that roam the premises. Still, the man stepping on the mat that morning looks even more familiar than that… In fact, I will soon realize that the gentleman is in fact Olivier Gaurin, long time student at the Hombu Dojo, author of many books and true martial researcher. After introducing myself to him and talking to him for a while, he proposes that we practice together the following day (traditionally, at the Aikikai, we practice with the same partner for the full hour of the class, even though things are changing a bit lately).

As planned, he is here the following day, waiting for me on the mat. As we start practicing together, I notice the great experience of the man. Beside being physically strong, his postures and distances suggest that he is experienced in different styles of Aiki, and perhaps, as I will learn later, even in other martial arts (kickboxing and Muay Thai amongst other things). During this hour, I will learn a lot, in particular since Olivier has a very deep understanding of Yokota Sensei’s Aikido. Once the class is over, Olivier tells me discretely about a Daito-ryu Aiki-jujutsu seminar that will take place the following weekend in Tokyo. Being myself a dedicated student of Aikido and of its history, he is making me the kind of offers I certainly cannot refuse. Of course, I have already heard about this offshoot of Aiki-justu, made famous by the great Sokaku Takeda, the teacher of the founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba, but I have never practiced it. In all fairness, this practice is still pretty confidential today compared to the huge spread of Aikido. I therefore accept wholeheartedly although I don’t really know what to expect from these practitioners. To be honest, I even start anticipating the potential injuries following training in this art which is renowned for its efficacy.

During our discussion, I learn that Olivier is in fact the organiser of the seminar. He as regrouped a small number of practitioners, some of which are Aikidoka, who follow the teaching of Kobayashi Sensei in Tokyo. The man travels regularly from Osaka to Tokyo in order to make sure that the techniques of Daito-ryu Aiki-jujutsu that Sokaku Takeda taught to Takuma Hisa and Morihei Ueshiba live on and to avoid the disappearing of this knowledge and what it has legated to Aikido.

The Takumakai Aiki-jujutsu is an organisation established around the teaching of Hisa Takuma, the only student of Takeda to have received a Menkyo Kaiden (the highest martial distinction possible according to the traditional Japanese system, the proof that the student has learnt all the secrets of the school) from the master himself. Today, there are about 40 branches (dokokai = groups of study) of the Takumakai in Japan which accounts for about 1000 regular practitioners but practice is also being carried out in the US, Australia and Finland. One of the particularities of this school is the scrupulous attention dedicated to details and the preservation of ancestral techniques as Sokaku Takeda was teaching them, thanks to, in particular, to a very large and unique photographic archive shot at the Asahi newspaper in Osaka. On the opposite, Morihei Ueshiba, who also studied and taught Daito-ryu Aiki-jujutsu up the beginning of World War II, made many alterations in the Daito-ryu techniques to create his own Aikido. Interestingly, the oldest Takumakai practitioners, who are actual contemporaries of O Sensei, still remember him as a prodigious practitioner.

It is now Sunday and I am boarding the famous Yamanote Line for a 40 minutes ride through the centre of Tokyo, travelling from Shinjuku to Kanda. As I enter the Chiyoda-Ku sports complex that is hosting the seminar, I am stroke by the diversity amongst the 15 practitioners present today covering, a wide range of age and morphology. The class is to be given by Kobayashi Kiyohiro, the manager of the Osaka Daito-ryu Honbu and one of the pillars of the Takumakai organisation. The man is of a small stature but of course, I have learnt not to judge a practitioner solely upon this kind of criteria. The truthfulness about this disposition is of course going to be confirmed to me several times that day by the master, using an incredible sense of placement, timing and control. I remember in particular of a choking technique he did on me with his ankle while I was already his prisoner through an arm-lock.

The style of Aiki of the Takumakai is refined, each detail counts and I quickly understand that during the whole 3 hours of the seminar, I will not manage to do a movement absolutely correctly, however how close I think it is from my own discipline of Aikido. Practice is slow; movements are decomposed into several stages in order to understand correctly angles and positions. For an Aikidoka, it is quite unsettling since we are more used to work in a flowing manner, even at the beginning. Thankfully, Kobayashi Sensei often comes to demonstrate to me the movements he showed and I realise the incredible luck I have to be able to participate to this seminar although being totally foreign to the system. Kobayashi Sensei often smiles at my Aikidoka manners but always takes the time to explain the techniques to me patiently. Thankfully, Olivier is also here to provide me with a simultaneous translation of the points Kobayashi Sensei is making.

The number of techniques showed today is quite consequent and I have trouble remembering of one precisely but I will always remember the economy of motion and the efficacy of everything that is being proposed. Of course, I can clearly see similarities between some of the techniques performed and the Aikido movements I am used to such as Ikkyo or Aiki-otoshi but some subtle differences are there. Contrary to what I had imagined, the techniques of Daito-ryu are not violent or executed in a rough way. Olivier explains to me later that Kobayashi Sensei always insists on the fact that pain should never be the purpose of a joint twist but instead, this type of punctual or maintained locks should only be used to guide the opponent’s physiological keys in a secure way, which makes the technique easier to execute and infallible.

Obviously, you cannot learn such a discipline in one class but I would like to say that every now and then, it is very important to go back to the “source” in order to challenge our own practice and also to keep this historical heritage alive and transmit it. The work achieved by this handful of students is an example to follow and I really hope to come back in order to learn more about this system during my next trip to Japan.

I would like to thank Olivier Gaurin for allowing me to widen my martial horizons and to Kobayashi Sensei for accepting me in his dojo, a very rare occurrence in Japan in the close circle of the traditional Ryu.

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A short video of the seminar: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uVY1zWdJCak

The website othe Takumakai association

Practicing at the World headquarters of the Aikikai foundation is a dream shared by many foreign Aikidoka. In my case, I had to wait for nearly 13 years to see this dream fulfilled. I would like to share this experience and perhaps encourage fellow martial artists to do the same.

It the second day of my first trip in Japan, the night has been short and full of surprises (not the least of which was an earthquake shaking my bed for a whole minute in the middle of the night) and I am nevertheless heading in jolly mood for my first practice at the Aikikai Hombu Dojo.

That morning, I realise that I are quite lucky to be staying at about 10-15 minutes walk from the Hombu dojo. It will be a significant advantage for the days to come since it means that I can go back to lay down for a while between classes, a luxury that many visiting Aikidoka cannot afford because of the remote accommodations that they have chosen. The thing is that there is no resting room as such for visitors at the Aikikai so usually; visitors invade the neighbouring coffee shops in order to relax and spend the time between classes.

The walk from the hotel to the Hombu dojo is very pleasant; I am actually in a nice part of Shinjuku, with lots of small streets and many little shops. It really feels like a small village inside Tokyo. On the way, I pass a place where an old couple is making tofu every morning. A few meters further, it is a small bakery that pleases my sense of smell with their fresh breads and croissants. Actually, I will soon grow quite addicted to their turtle shaped brioche after hard mornings of training… I also pass a couple of convenience stores, an off-license, some small 10 seats restaurants, the always useful launderette and even a sento (bath house) of which I will grow very found in the subsequent days. What strikes me is of course the typical chaotic, spider web like, arrangement of electricity, phone and antenna cables above my head. Last but not least, I pass countless vending machines which are a very important part of urban landscape in Tokyo. You can find pretty much anything in there, from cigarettes to drinks (hot and cold, including beer), from sandwiches to toys or even flowers. These massive 1L Asahi cans are a big temptation after a hot Aikido class, especially when like me; you have been living in Ireland for many years and acquired in the process a found taste for beer as long as it is served in large amounts!

Before I know it, I finally arrive in front of the legendary site where once stood the old house of O Sensei Morihei Ueshiba and its attached dojo, the Kobukan Dojo (皇武館道場). Since 1967 it has been replaced by a he five-story building that hosts the Aikikai Hombu Dojo (合気会本部道場). It includes three separate training areas of about 250 tatami in total. The main dojo is on the third floor and totals 100 tatami, while two other training areas exist on the 2nd and 4th floors. The reception area is located on the first floor, and changing rooms are located adjacent to the main dojo on the third floor.

One cannot help feeling a bit nervous upon the first entry into the building that has seen so much of Aikido history unfold over the years and where all the top Aikido instructors have been formed, including my own, Philippe Gouttard and Christian Tissier. Registration is quick and as I climb the stairs towards the changing rooms, I pass in front of the two bronze panels representing O Sensei Ueshiba and his son Kisshomaru. It gives me a sense of solemnity and I now fully realise that I am at the source of Aikido. As I enter the changing room, I am greeted by a loud “Ohayogozaemasu!!!” (おはようございます, good morning) from the people present in the changing room. This is really something I like about Japan, some people might regard them as formalities but I believe that this politeness participates greatly to make you day a little bit nicer and the interactions between individuals more pleasant. It is 6am and the changing room is absolutely packed with Aikidoka from many nationalities. Japanese are probably making only half of the total number. I do my best to access a locker and change, avoiding stepping over another practitioner as he unpacks his bag. As I pass the curtain to enter the dojo, my heart starts beating when I face the kamidana (wall of honour) that I have seen so many times in different Aikido books.

Everybody is warming up individually or chatting informally. My teacher Philippe Gouttard is here, as usual (he has attended every single of the 5 daily classes for the whole length of his stay), standing at the back of the dojo and chatting to other practitioners among which I can recognise Frank Noel a 7th dan from France. I also get the nice surprise to see Silvia, a Bulgarian friend who had spent a few months in Dublin the year before. It is actually very comforting to see familiar faces. Atsunobu, a Japanese Aikidoka whom I had met in San Diego the year before is on the mat too. Later on, I notice the presence of Olivier Gaurin. He and I have been in contact via Aikidoka Magazine but I have never met him in person. These encounters really make me realise that Aikido is indeed a small world and that it is a wonderful thing to be able to meet so many Aikidoka in the same neutral place beyond all considerations of style and affiliation. That is in fact one of the main interest of practicing at the Aikikai.

At 6h30 sharp, the Doshu (keeper of the way) Moriteru Ueshiba, the grandson of founder Morihei Ueshiba enters the room which is now in a complete silence, while everybody is seating in seiza (kneeling). The class starts by a 15 minutes warm up. Space is very restricted but it feels good to be on the mat. Talking about the tatami, the first thing that I realise is that it is way harder than the tatami we are used to practice on in Europe. It will take some time to get used to and I will have to adapt slightly my ukemi (way to receive techniques).

After the warm up, the Doshu starts showing the basic Aikido techniques, Irimi Nage, Ikkyo, Shihonage. His role as Dojo-Sho is to preserve the integrity of the teaching he received from his father and grand-father and to show neutral, textbook-like Aikido day after day just like his father did before him. At the Aikikai, you usually train with the same partner for the entire hour. The class is great and even if the space is tight, people are very watchful and I quickly feel comfortable. We finish the lesson by a 10 minutes Jyu Waza (free techniques); I am quite exhausted I must say. There is now a welcome, half an hour break before the next session. It is Hayato Osawa Sensei who is going to take the following class. What a great opportunity it is to be able to experience the teaching of all these famous teachers in the same place! Funnily, I also find the hierarchical pressure and the etiquette way looser than in many dojo I have visited outside Japan.

The class finishes at 9 pm, it is now time to clean the dojo (everybody is involved, including the great masters!), fold our hakama (large traditional trousers) and take a cold shower. No hot water at the Hombu Dojo, even in winter… That is it; I just took my first Aikido lesson at the Aikido headquarters. It feels fantastic and I am very enthusiastic about the next 20 days of daily training. I really warmly encourage all Aikidoka to make the trip and experience this, regardless of their style of origin. Of course, most of the work and progression are made in our home dojo but the variety of teachers and the presence practitioners from all over the worlds really make training at the Aikikai a quite unique experience, a bit like if you were attending international seminars everyday for a few weeks.

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