tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-300451822024-03-12T19:16:32.614-08:00Goju-Ryu Karate-doInformation and discussion of classical Okinawan Karate-do.Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.comBlogger149125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-33019744080534581892020-10-07T13:09:00.000-08:002020-10-07T13:09:03.758-08:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">New book out September 2020:</span> <span style="font-size: large;">Wandering Along the Way of Okinawan Karate: Thinking about Goju-Ryu.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">From the back cover: Diogenes, a fourth-century BCE Greek philosopher, it is said, coined the phrase Solvitur ambulance: It is solved by walking. In Wandering Along the Way of Okinawan Karate, Giles Hopkins draws on his nearly fifty years of martial-arts experience to take the reader on a journey through the forest and a thought-provoking meditation on Okinawan karate. Prompted by his Thoreauvian wanderings through local woodlands, Hopkins offers his personal reflections on the meaning of kata (forms) and bunkai (applications) and a host of other topics in the practice of martial arts.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">* * *</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The book addresses a wide range of topics, from the hidden structure of kata to the significance of steps and turns to the role of tradition in karate. In a personal and easily accessible manner, this unique book seeks to shed light on the practitioner's journey--what in martial arts is often thought to be a long and winding trail.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZ_NIYpfxA3BqwqXlrEXC7WZChuoEs2_2F3Pu_M1ybruRl4s4u8QXm-l8wRAp74VBKAGn4RuoP0a3Fk6Kic2hgk5ZLEs6VONo2_34jH4CpUFckKobwrolHleoQFqXmgZVtKow0A/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZ_NIYpfxA3BqwqXlrEXC7WZChuoEs2_2F3Pu_M1ybruRl4s4u8QXm-l8wRAp74VBKAGn4RuoP0a3Fk6Kic2hgk5ZLEs6VONo2_34jH4CpUFckKobwrolHleoQFqXmgZVtKow0A/" width="180" /></a></div><br />Available from Bluesnakebooks.com or on Amazon</div> <br /><p></p>Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-71185866170033694452020-03-05T14:57:00.001-08:002020-03-05T14:57:44.358-08:00Second printingSo pleased to hear that the publisher, North Atlantic Books, is coming out with a second printing of my first book, The Kata and Bunkai of Goju-Ryu Karate. I guess that means somebody’s reading it...or someone is buying them all to suppress my heretical ideas...or some speculator is buying them all to make a killing when the book is out of print.<br />
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<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-33469350008987937522018-07-20T15:13:00.000-08:002018-07-20T15:13:04.815-08:00Video of first Seiunchin sequence<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBFrf_6QUz2Mca-lCknP2jlMJ0T-8mK27I-4kGVhwQFC-yPCMNerEsXM24ZIs8PEUawFkJYGsZdgiPxGWRjctAT38GR8mxTBIRgJcWkErk2E-8hTLibJ_mhHS1Mdz82k-qHvKIpA/s1600/IMG_1265.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBFrf_6QUz2Mca-lCknP2jlMJ0T-8mK27I-4kGVhwQFC-yPCMNerEsXM24ZIs8PEUawFkJYGsZdgiPxGWRjctAT38GR8mxTBIRgJcWkErk2E-8hTLibJ_mhHS1Mdz82k-qHvKIpA/s200/IMG_1265.JPG" width="200" /></a>My son tells me I should post things on Instagram--the younger generation, I guess, and I suppose the general direction of the world is more into Instagram than these formats that actually take longer to read and perhaps a bit more effort to understand--but I’m not sure whether that’s the right format. Can you really investigate kata and bunkai in a 60 second format? I’m not sure.<br />
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And does it leave questions unanswered and things unexplained? Does it become "just another <i>bunkai,</i>" like a 10 second sound bite, that gets viewed passively as we scroll through things on the Internet or social media, searching for anything that will provide a quick minute of entertainment.<br />
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So I went out to the barn dojo and filmed a kata sequence with him: first the kata movements and then the <i>bunkai</i>. I decided to start with the first sequence of Seiunchin kata, only because the conventional interpretation of these moves is...well, the conventional interpretation has always seemed to me to be so bad, so illogical.<br />
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But in a short 28 second video clip how can I explain that any <i>bunkai </i>that doesn't show why you step <u>forward</u> into <i>shiko dachi</i> is ignoring an important lesson from the kata? How can I explain that thematically the kata is showing a series of responses to a cross-hand grab and that the defender doing kata brings both hands to the outside? And I can't really show that this <i>bunkai </i>echoes a similar technique we find in Suparinpei--that is, it's a variation, because it's a system where the applications from different kata all seem to fit together and reinforce the same principles. The effort in practicing kata and <i>bunkai</i> should be to <u>discover</u> (the original intent) not to create.<br />
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But I tried to explain things in the book, <i>The Kata and Bunkai of Goju-Ryu: the essence of the Heishu and Kaishu kata.</i> And since I can't seem to figure out how to upload a viewable video on here, I'm going to put a few videos on my Facebook account (under my name) and on Instagram at "Kodokangoju." Nothing professional, just some amateur videos that show technique. I hope they prove useful and perhaps even spark some discussion. And if you try any of them out, please be careful.<br />
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Check it out:<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Instagram: Kodokangoju</span><br />
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<span id="goog_304197970"></span><span id="goog_304197971"></span><br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-65466452211117532192018-07-02T13:38:00.001-08:002018-07-02T13:38:40.890-08:00Looking at oak trees<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLerfn-HjfmfmDPD2ehoJ3XWX9jTlO_ong6IhRIz7_kWPadIwoP_04jIm-0j9I9CxupjcsPfHM56ybyscsoHDRj1ZdpnT-JHBjqBVdB7rvppv84DF8oLWfnEbtmfbBa7U-uUiF-w/s1600/IMG_1321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLerfn-HjfmfmDPD2ehoJ3XWX9jTlO_ong6IhRIz7_kWPadIwoP_04jIm-0j9I9CxupjcsPfHM56ybyscsoHDRj1ZdpnT-JHBjqBVdB7rvppv84DF8oLWfnEbtmfbBa7U-uUiF-w/s200/IMG_1321.JPG" width="200" /></a>Up the hill on the far side of the conserva-tion area where I often walk, the oak trees predominate, taking over for the pines and hemlocks that seem to prefer the other side where it's shadier and the ground is wetter, with a number of small streams or rivulets trickling down towards the lake in the early spring. There are also outcroppings of granite here, covered in moss, and mountain laurel that grows so thick along one side of the path that it almost seems as though someone had planted hedges. This is where the butterflies gather in the late summer. At the top of the hill, the forest floor is covered with oak leaves all year. It doesn't matter what the season; the look is still the same, with a carpet of brown leaves everywhere--mostly red oak and pin oak, though I think there are some white oak and chinkapin oak, too.<br />
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The oaks are wonderfully durable looking, of course, craggy and almost avuncular with their gnarled branches and patches of blue-green lichen that seem to have colonized the bark on one side, looking like alien spoors that have fallen from the sky and splattered the tree trunks. Of course, the oak trees endure all of this; that's their nature. They're steadfast and long-lived, firmly rooted and unwavering--symbols of strength and endurance. The oaks are a hard wood, unlike the pines that share this forest. We use its wood to make floors and furniture. The Okinawans used the red oak to make <i>rokushaku bo.</i><br />
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This sort of personification of the oak always reminds me of how we often seem to think of Sanchin kata in the curriculum of Okinawa Goju-ryu classical subjects. It is almost universally recognized as the foundation (or at least fundamental) to the practice and understanding of Goju. And yet I have often wondered what exactly is so foundational or fundamental about this kata. Its techniques are so basic--composed of only a few simple and relatively straightforward movements--that it would be difficult to argue that an understanding of Sanchin, no matter how complete, would lead one to a more thorough understanding of the techniques contained in the other classical kata. But its position within the curriculum seems so sacrosanct that any questioning of its purpose or nature seems somehow blasphemous.<br />
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But few teachers do anything more than document the outward shape of the kata--that is, confining themselves to a brief description of the stance, the stepping, the position of the arms, the posture, and the coordination of the breath, with some explanation of <i>shime</i> or body checking. Most, I suspect, offer no explanation at all; the students merely follow along, mimicking the movements of their teachers and the other students in class. There are a few, of course, who indulge in suitably vague and cryptic references to meridians or descriptions of how one should guide one's breath to travel along the internal energy paths in order to be able to nourish and project one's <i>qi. </i>But in practice, this aspect of training Goju appears somewhat mystical or at the very least confusing, and I shy away from the mystical. I think that aspect of one's training is best left to each individual to work out for him or herself.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-JuU96W7hPHYZ-VK7uYIwXPPqqsz9UO0jR953rzSVQNzNxbKBGEqvjpc7_kKICoqNXuKikdbEQR07neVfhVzBv62APK7YvnS06mArem5Im7ItK-Wi1u95HfeG3hunPtG-qvFzw/s1600/IMG_1240.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-JuU96W7hPHYZ-VK7uYIwXPPqqsz9UO0jR953rzSVQNzNxbKBGEqvjpc7_kKICoqNXuKikdbEQR07neVfhVzBv62APK7YvnS06mArem5Im7ItK-Wi1u95HfeG3hunPtG-qvFzw/s200/IMG_1240.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sanchin kata</td></tr>
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For some years now, in addition to my regular training, I have set out to practice Sanchin kata three times a day, every day, not blindly as if I were merely going through the motions, but with an eye to understanding what this particular kata was trying to teach me. When I was younger, I spent many years undergoing both "hard checks" and softer checks of my kata. Sensei would step up on our legs, throw punches at the <i>latissimus dorsi,</i> bring his palms forcefully down on our shoulders, and break boards over our thighs and extended arms whenever we put on a demonstration for the public. All of this "checking" seemed to solidify the general impression that Goju was a "hard" style of karate that emphasized physical conditioning and toughness. Over the years, however, I found myself questioning many things about the oak-like hardness that seemed to characterize the practice of Sanchin.<br />
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After all, Goju-ryu was supposed to be both "hard" (Go) and "soft" (Ju). But I also started to wonder what the intention must have been if the kata was originally, as oral tradition tells us, a completely open hand kata. Were we meant to strike with the open hand or push with the palm? The double-arm <i>kamae</i> posture, with both arms held up in front of the body, hands at shoulder level and elbows down, was also the beginning posture of Sanseiru, Seisan, and Suparinpei, and I had come to believe that the techniques of these kata were largely based on close-in or grappling confrontations. Then there were all of the apparent contradictions. What purpose could an immoveable stance serve if one of the first martial principles we see illustrated in the other <i>bunkai</i> kata is to get out of the way or to move in such a way that your attacker has only the one opportunity (the initial attack) to attack you?<br />
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The hard checking, I believe, really conveys the wrong idea, not just to the general public who may be watching a karate demonstration, but to the practitioner as well. But the checking itself, presumably passed down from teacher to student over the years, may help one's understanding if we can understand the things that such checking is trying to point out.<br />
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Most of the checking, whether hard or soft, should be done at the point where the movement has been completed--that is, for example, at the full extension of the "punch." At that point, stepping on the back of the rear leg or pushing down on the calf is used to signal the one doing the kata that the energy of the "punch" or push should come from the heel of the rear leg, through the body, and out the arm. If the energy is not being projected up from the foot through the leg and waist to the arm, the rear leg will be weak and easily bent.<br />
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Slapping or pushing down on the shoulders should remind the practitioner to keep the shoulders relaxed and down, making the transfer of the energy through the waist that much easier. If the shoulder is too tense or raised up, the different parts of the body cannot work together.<br />
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Similarly, pushing or punching the abdomen is a reminder that the belly is relaxed and the mind (and the center) is in the <i>dantien</i> or <i>tanden</i>. Checking the small of the back or the straightness of the spine is the same thing. If either of these is not correct, the posture is weak and you will not have the balance or sufficient coordination of these elements to affect your opponent or to withstand your opponent's attack.<br />
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Pushing or kicking against the side of the front knee is a forceful reminder that as the student pushes out, with the force beginning from the heel of the rear foot, the front leg rounds out, with the knee over the foot, with a kind of elastic tension, not stiffness. This affects "grounding" oneself far more than simply spreading one's toes and gripping the ground.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7VpqBH90JbKpaO3-o5aP7HSj47nal-BdUI-8U_n-s0ja01xJ_88b-HfmidcG4fzUM9ERqex9oq2ftJdq1n8f95Qb5ZeJoghXupx5pvvixBFViIEXM1nRMvEcRKqEbkfbw20iJvA/s1600/20151107_134832.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1600" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7VpqBH90JbKpaO3-o5aP7HSj47nal-BdUI-8U_n-s0ja01xJ_88b-HfmidcG4fzUM9ERqex9oq2ftJdq1n8f95Qb5ZeJoghXupx5pvvixBFViIEXM1nRMvEcRKqEbkfbw20iJvA/s200/20151107_134832.jpg" width="200" /></a>And lastly, we often see the teacher hold one hand up against the student's punch while the other pulls lightly on the student's other arm. To me, working against this sort of counter-motion reminds me that whether we are pushing out or pulling in, we must use the waist or <i>koshi</i>--that is, all of these upper body movements must be generated by the waist. As it says in the Chinese classics: "The millstone turns but the mind does not turn. The turning of the millstone is a metaphor for the turning of the waist." So often, because of the perception that Sanchin kata is teaching one to be solid and unmoving, like the oak tree, we see students locked in place, immoveable, with the trunk of the body as rigid as a toy soldier at Christmas time, as if the message here is to stand straight in the face of an attack and be able to withstand any punishment someone is able to mete out. But that's not what Sanchin training is all about, I think. I love to look at the oak trees out in the woods, but I don't want to look like an oak tree when I'm practicing Sanchin.<br />
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<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-69053780148178919782018-06-07T05:13:00.000-08:002018-06-07T05:13:27.388-08:00The hemlock trees are dying<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_e84_6U_esQhfpid_iji1Qn5jdJUUyr5LUV40cn7wnr8MU_kIxyKrNftqZ6SSGb7Tiov7723VuWM2p5RFoaH-Ks2IDM_CIQYmdvPIdE9QDgfikfA_2XaQ2hyphenhyphenyPbmEfuYBZ3MLsg/s1600/IMG_1216.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_e84_6U_esQhfpid_iji1Qn5jdJUUyr5LUV40cn7wnr8MU_kIxyKrNftqZ6SSGb7Tiov7723VuWM2p5RFoaH-Ks2IDM_CIQYmdvPIdE9QDgfikfA_2XaQ2hyphenhyphenyPbmEfuYBZ3MLsg/s200/IMG_1216.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 16px;">It was wet in the woods the other day. Actually, I think this was two or three weeks ago now--it's been quite busy lately and I lose track of the time. </span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: 16px;">Spring had arrived and everything was alive. Even the spiders were out. I could hear the stream that runs down the hill to the reservoir. In places where the evergreens were thickest, the forest didn't look all that different in the spring as it did in the midst of winter. But the maples and the oaks and the birches and hickories were starting to leaf out and it was easier to see which trees had died over the winter, opening up patches in the canopy. On the ground beneath them, you could see seedlings ready to take over. On the part of the trail where it's widest and there seems to be the most sunlight, small hemlock saplings, no more than a foot or two high, had sprung up along each side of the path. Further up the trail, the giant hemlocks stood, many of them over a hundred feet tall by the look of them, and stately--they seemed to have no need for spreading branches to establish their places like the spruce trees or the balsam pines.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the first technique of Seiunchin,<br />
both arms are initially brought up<br />
to the outside of the attacker's arm.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">But the older hemlock trees are dying. I could count dozens of them along the trail and more off in the woods, the bark stripped off in places, left like red mulch around the base of the tree. They've been hit by the wooly adelgid. It's an invasive species for which the hemlock has no natural resistance. The wooly adelgid brings the borer beetle, which feeds on it, and then, after the borer beetles have burrowed beneath the bark of the tree, the woodpeckers attack, stripping the bark to get at the beetles. Fungus begins to grow around the roots of the diseased tree, and before long, the tree falls. The cold New England temperatures kept the pest at bay for years, but now they're heading north as the winters warm, and the hemlock may go the way of the American chestnut. It shows, I think, it's all tied together; </span>a chain of events that seems to connect things in a way that's difficult to see at the start--one thing leading to another or, if not so singularly predictable, a step in one direction changing the expected outcome while opening up any number of different possibilities, like a small alteration in the environment opening an existential niche that may not have been there before. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjqIDSk7Vlx_R06zFAz6cMwCduSIBj3IHBi5WG-jz0zsvs-G8cd_-mzSBtCbFXjos7SDqhvLwASkZACoHiBUWkWArRSSq0-EfDFxYcJS7eLLLhDiSOOdVZsVsxyKejyad1jWFLQ/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1357.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1389" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjqIDSk7Vlx_R06zFAz6cMwCduSIBj3IHBi5WG-jz0zsvs-G8cd_-mzSBtCbFXjos7SDqhvLwASkZACoHiBUWkWArRSSq0-EfDFxYcJS7eLLLhDiSOOdVZsVsxyKejyad1jWFLQ/s200/fullsizeoutput_1357.jpeg" width="173" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The initial counter from the first<br />
sequence of Kururunfa.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-kerning: none;">For some reason, all of this made me think of how we string the various techniques of a kata together. But I wasn’t thinking about the sequences of techniques in the standard way in which it is shown in kata—beginning with the receiving (<i>uke</i>) technique, then progressing with the controlling or bridging technique, and finishing with a throw or an attack to the neck or head--as much as I was thinking about how an understanding of the structure and themes of a kata allows one to move between the techniques of different kata within the system. Because the Goju-ryu classical kata are composed of sequences—with entry techniques and bridging techniques and finishing techniques—it’s fairly easy to begin with a technique from one kata and then, depending on how the attacker is moving or responding to your initial receiving technique, move into a bridging technique from another kata and, again, tack on a finishing technique from yet another kata. Understanding the themes or principles of the various classical subjects also helps facilitate this sort of flexibility, especially when each kata seems to be exploring a different theme or response to a different sort of attack--that is, the receiving techniques seem to show the most variation. </span>How one bridges the distance in order to control the opponent may also show a certain amount of variation but the idea here is basically to maintain contact after the initial receiving technique and, without putting oneself in further danger, moving to the opponent’s head or neck to finish the encounter. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgegVKYWLN9RIPY8PJR_aaJ6rX1x4GGMaETF1cTTYSmyPTRgBTeym2_brchdagK_ruF1b0Sn_2dnpxSZ_rJ_gCIt5DsmZb4nn6y80VVD9RkAvEvD8RI-q8PLVe1LFUW8mqBCHCblg/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1359.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1217" data-original-width="1600" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgegVKYWLN9RIPY8PJR_aaJ6rX1x4GGMaETF1cTTYSmyPTRgBTeym2_brchdagK_ruF1b0Sn_2dnpxSZ_rJ_gCIt5DsmZb4nn6y80VVD9RkAvEvD8RI-q8PLVe1LFUW8mqBCHCblg/s200/fullsizeoutput_1359.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Continuing with the first technique<br />
from Seipai (on the non-kata side).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">For example, in the opening move of Seiunchin kata—and in fact in many of the other techniques of this kata—both arms are brought to the outside of the opponent’s attacking arm, whether we see this attack as a wrist grab or a punch or a grab of one’s clothing. If one were to continue the sequence, the defender’s left hand would rotate in order to grab the attacker’s left wrist as the right forearm was brought down on the attacker’s elbow. This is the position in kata that looks like two down blocks in shiko dachi (horse stance) done at a 45 degree angle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;">However, if one is thinking about variations, it is easy to see how the defender might move from this initial position in Seiunchin kata to the first attack in Kururunfa kata. The defender need only maintain contact with his right arm on the attacker’s left arm, releasing the left grab, and bring the left forearm up into the neck of the attacker. This is then followed by a left knee kick. </span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMu4dtlhhcvP-Mcw55GzN0KXgVXL7hlKgiY9DSNsI2Au7eqzMyI-EtzEm7BZZT186Sqk8wqStxDimwRtVhDeq30jGuwFuMjY9DTy-shoN2eHXVkplC94UKZDjc9yxJoKV4Ts5fcA/s1600/IMG_1710.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMu4dtlhhcvP-Mcw55GzN0KXgVXL7hlKgiY9DSNsI2Au7eqzMyI-EtzEm7BZZT186Sqk8wqStxDimwRtVhDeq30jGuwFuMjY9DTy-shoN2eHXVkplC94UKZDjc9yxJoKV4Ts5fcA/s200/IMG_1710.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Continuing with this technique from<br />
Seisan kata by dropping the left arm<br />
and stepping in behind the opponent.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">But if these counter attacks are somehow thwarted, the defender can then tack on the first technique in Seipai kata (though it would be from the non-kata side), with the left forearm brought up alongside the neck, since the initial straight arm technique begins from this position with the elbow or forearm attacking the opponent’s face or neck. </span><br />
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-kerning: none;">Or, by dropping the left forearm down along the back of the opponent’s left arm and moving to the back, the defender could continue with the bridging and finishing techniques from the first sequence of Seisan kata. </span><br />
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcRQllTDHXB4bv4T1-79Fq9aPHPynVbbm7EZ-0WCxj64kQ80-qJ1Ac6CFP_fnJkQ9ib0Z0s1DkKxsySFkHue7i9bi_s3W0VLoeCGn5GiX2Yr8RJKr25xYLHOaJl0ysR8Ivzlz-rw/s1600/IMG_1543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcRQllTDHXB4bv4T1-79Fq9aPHPynVbbm7EZ-0WCxj64kQ80-qJ1Ac6CFP_fnJkQ9ib0Z0s1DkKxsySFkHue7i9bi_s3W0VLoeCGn5GiX2Yr8RJKr25xYLHOaJl0ysR8Ivzlz-rw/s200/IMG_1543.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Continuing with the pull down<br />
technique from Saifa kata.<br />
<br />
[Me with Bill Diggle from photos<br />
we did for the book, <i>The Kata and<br />Bunkai of Goju-Ryu</i>.]<br />
<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-kerning: none;">Or, once to the back of the opponent, the defender could grab both shoulders, as we see in Saifa kata, and pull the attacker down onto the knee and attack with the hammer fist strike. </span><br />
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Times; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;">I think it is important to see the connections, but we can only really be comfortable with these kinds of connections when we understand the sequences of a kata and see the themes or principles contained within them. Once we are able to do that, the attack becomes relentless, sort of like the attack of the wooly adelgid on these stately Hemlock trees, I think. </span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFS-LfWN7aoPxFUmEBBc3w312dCkmHtW4u-fCBIW4lISY9zYlGlkM7QYemxSMqyJDbBMgLdmHbEbBV0uIYVZpOUmrGNLyfw8PrjqKpTreko8vPukqvlE9dC2n1zAxjMs-58rUnJg/s1600/IMG_1203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFS-LfWN7aoPxFUmEBBc3w312dCkmHtW4u-fCBIW4lISY9zYlGlkM7QYemxSMqyJDbBMgLdmHbEbBV0uIYVZpOUmrGNLyfw8PrjqKpTreko8vPukqvlE9dC2n1zAxjMs-58rUnJg/s200/IMG_1203.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hemlock tree after it has<br />
been attacked by the<br />
wooly adelgid, borer<br />
beetles, and woodpeckers.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></div>
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<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-39830413942234279892018-05-21T05:28:00.000-08:002018-05-21T05:28:25.623-08:00Same difference<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLLWKCeRc9zptvoL9lwTRkg0smoz_D_ugW4qwGYmrt4MNzznr6ot7uOQjH2fTBaXw1Z3-9PUMJBpPhmoxgwqrEoO2N0wj8MvXoX1UQs3N1IDgmxZkchxsFs39yCEgXXiRQ8ZHxQ/s1600/IMG_0169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLLWKCeRc9zptvoL9lwTRkg0smoz_D_ugW4qwGYmrt4MNzznr6ot7uOQjH2fTBaXw1Z3-9PUMJBpPhmoxgwqrEoO2N0wj8MvXoX1UQs3N1IDgmxZkchxsFs39yCEgXXiRQ8ZHxQ/s200/IMG_0169.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
I remember when we were little, when our parents would let us out and we would roam freely through the woods and fields. They expected we would come home for lunch whenever we got especially hungry. On summer evenings, we had to be in by dark. It was a different world, a different time. When I head off into the woods now, I generally stick to the trail. It might almost seem as though I'm headed somewhere--no longer running for a hollow tree glimpsed off in the distance or following a meandering stream. As long as I'm in the woods, it doesn't much matter to me where I am. I'm just content to plod along in the company of trees, without a hint of the grid-like overlay of civilization's labyrinth of roads and houses. I hear the echo of Bill Bryson's words: "However far or long you plod, you are always in the same place: in the woods," and that's enough. Though I've often felt that I could see the hint of a sneer on Bryson's face, as if he needed to shield himself against the criticism he anticipated from cynical urbanites.<br />
<br />
Perhaps he didn't mean to imply anything in the least disparaging. His book, <i>A Walk in the Woods</i>, is wonderfully entertaining, though it seems to find much of its humor in the ineptitude of its protagonists, in the unlikeliness of their shared adventure to hike the Appalachian Trail. Yet I wonder why we should feel so out of place in these primal surroundings, which of course aren't even so primal anymore, now that we've fenced it in and preserved it as a state park or labeled it a conservation area.<br />
<br />
The other thing about that quote is that it makes it sound as though it's all the same, that it's all just a bunch of trees, one pretty much like the next. Sometimes I think this tendency to generalize, to smooth out all the rough edges and do away with differences, is quite human. I remember it was almost a common retort when we were children to respond to a friend who might correct something you said with the quick rejoinder, "Same difference." I'm sure that ended it when I was a child, though I'm not at all sure what it really means. But it got me thinking about the ways we tend to treat techniques in kata when they appear to be the same--that is, we assume that techniques that look the same must function the same in kata.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5zO_lA2SgDl198IM2kZl6gH9Ex0vHmLkNy5pC90cWsraS1pvlI7KlSv_T2XswMh7zoc2Ut6PMp0HO5tY4xQthani6la49KswPTWtiQcz5jbs6m6PeqTEBr4c9QYs1fNY9VO0uEA/s1600/IMG_0126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5zO_lA2SgDl198IM2kZl6gH9Ex0vHmLkNy5pC90cWsraS1pvlI7KlSv_T2XswMh7zoc2Ut6PMp0HO5tY4xQthani6la49KswPTWtiQcz5jbs6m6PeqTEBr4c9QYs1fNY9VO0uEA/s200/IMG_0126.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Open hand block from Shisochin.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The open-hand "block" we see in Shisochin is not the same, nor does it perform the same function, as the open-hand technique in Seipai kata. If we isolate the techniques, they appear to be the same, but each technique in kata is influenced by the techniques that precede it and the techniques that follow it in any given sequence. And the logic of this suggests that there may be slight variations in how each is performed--variations that differentiate it from techniques that only appear to be the same. The supposition, of course, is that there is <u><b>no</b></u> hard and fast alphabet of techniques that comprise a single system of self defense and that we are then meant to rearrange these techniques--as if we were forming words and sentences from letters--into various kata. Though this is certainly how we seem to think of "basic" techniques when we practice head blocks (<i>jodan uke</i>) and chest punches (<i>chudan uke</i>) and down blocks (<i>gedan uke</i>) and front kicks (<i>mae geri</i>) at the beginning of every class. Perhaps we don't really stop to consider that these "basics" form a very small percentage of the techniques found in the classical subjects of Goju-ryu.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoYFMApB4cHdJHO_L-TPz487qnbYJYpS2W_r8O_CDfdmb9DMHN6GpvU41FWgQ5bi-NPodPmzRu5eRSYnA3bAy0B5mk8iSaZPp5ZHmWOAG7ZYx_XuUxcKfu45MPs3TUQJ-CO9Dohg/s1600/IMG_1318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoYFMApB4cHdJHO_L-TPz487qnbYJYpS2W_r8O_CDfdmb9DMHN6GpvU41FWgQ5bi-NPodPmzRu5eRSYnA3bAy0B5mk8iSaZPp5ZHmWOAG7ZYx_XuUxcKfu45MPs3TUQJ-CO9Dohg/s200/IMG_1318.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Open hand "block" from Seipai.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It is this bent of mind that tends to divorce kata techniques from their applications or <i>bunkai</i>. The open-hand techniques after the first turn in Seisan kata--turning to the south after the opening sequence of techniques in the front-facing line--are another example of this, I think. After the initial right arm circular block and the left palm strike, the kata moves into a right-foot-forward basic stance while the left arm and left palm is brought down and the right arm and palm is brought up, finishing with the right palm rotated and facing forward. This same technique is done once more, stepping forward into a left-foot-forward basic stance, before pivoting to the right to finish the sequence with the "punches" and kick to the west. In some schools, these techniques are done twice--first stepping with the right and again stepping with the left--and in others, four times, twice with each hand and foot. In either case, the "message" of the kata is that the two techniques are meant to function together; that is, both are part of the controlling technique of the <i>bunkai</i> sequence, following the initial block and attack of the first technique that occurs on the turn. (The repetition of four of these techniques suggests that both sides are being shown or practiced within the kata. Either that or an attempt to bring the kata back to the original starting point at the end, though this certainly does not generally seem to be of any importance in Okinawan kata.)<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4-KKzjB3TUvNk-DXlf7M5CS6UwjLivmJkgzVrKKZJrlfZFNdviaO4-XqFo-scwW2PhIVZBJzZ9iNQcImJcdu8znMtqVqkoDUlNt2qekBDiU1Sl9oI1e2ED-2P2T7uyGTJ8YFCZw/s1600/IMG_1299.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4-KKzjB3TUvNk-DXlf7M5CS6UwjLivmJkgzVrKKZJrlfZFNdviaO4-XqFo-scwW2PhIVZBJzZ9iNQcImJcdu8znMtqVqkoDUlNt2qekBDiU1Sl9oI1e2ED-2P2T7uyGTJ8YFCZw/s200/IMG_1299.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The second palm-up technique from <br />
Seisan kata just before the pivot <br />
to the west.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The point here, however, is that the second of these techniques (and the fourth, if one chooses to repeat this technique four times) is done a bit differently. In the first of these techniques, the right hand is brought up palm first and then rotated until the palm is facing forward. The second technique is usually done that way also, with the left palm rotated until it is facing forward. However, if you watch some of the older teachers perform Seisan kata, you will see that at least some of them do not rotate the left palm. Rather, the left palm is brought into the chest, only facing forward as it is brought in towards the chest, the movement that precedes the turn to the right (west) to finish the <i>bunkai</i> sequence. The reason it is performed this way in kata by some of the older teachers is that the left palm has been brought up into the opponent's chin (the right has hold of the hair) and as the left palm is brought in towards the chest the opponent's head is twisted in. Then, with the pivot to the right or west, the opponent's head is twisted sharply in the opposite direction.<br />
<br />
This, of course, raises a difficult issue. Kata should always inform <i>bunkai</i>. Otherwise we're left with all manner of creative interpretations that don't bear the least resemblance to kata movement. But kata was meant to preserve <i>bunkai</i> or self-defense applications. We have, I think, an innate desire to generalize movement, to homogenize it in order to understand it. But from a certain perspective, there really is no such thing as standard or basic technique, no generic chest blocks, for example, when it comes to the classical kata if each scenario is unique. Certainly there is good technique and bad technique, but the performance of any given technique is really dependent on how it is used in a sequence of kata movements. Occasionally, I think, over time, some of these movements, for whatever reason, have undergone subtle changes--differences have been dropped, rough edges have been smoothed out, until what was once only similar is now seen as the same technique.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukMLpz0s7VcVTD5IbLB2dML_6693BMu07b639I2vhqtUlIKKLTWyJXl2jFYEfhM0xr6bkcAs0ZthWynZM1zcoHbq_VGdQzJ-KfN_GJB7TnL0qsyJIbNOmETxWQNY6lNUbtKSPxw/s1600/IMG_0199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjukMLpz0s7VcVTD5IbLB2dML_6693BMu07b639I2vhqtUlIKKLTWyJXl2jFYEfhM0xr6bkcAs0ZthWynZM1zcoHbq_VGdQzJ-KfN_GJB7TnL0qsyJIbNOmETxWQNY6lNUbtKSPxw/s200/IMG_0199.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
When I was a lot younger, I used to look at every tree, judging whether it was a good climbing tree or not. I know a lumberman who would look at trees and size up the quality of the wood--was it soft or hard, straight-grained or not. The techniques of kata are the same--they're not generic, but rather dependent on how they fit into kata, how they are used within the self-defense scenarios of Goju-ryu kata. Like trees, I suspect, they're all different.<br />
<br />
<br />
[For a more detailed discussion of these techniques see my book, The Kata and Bunkai of Goju-Ryu,<br />
<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/562446/the-kata-and-bunkai-of-goju-ryu-karate-by-giles-hopkins/9781623171995/">https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/562446/the-kata-and-bunkai-of-goju-ryu-karate-by-giles-hopkins/9781623171995/</a>]<br />
<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-52635940334027950242018-05-04T06:16:00.001-08:002018-05-04T06:16:34.407-08:00It was a gray day <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdv6CZ9_cX3Pj4Dmc9uzG3uZXj1V5QUDnpmzBG6JjkMIlPB6u1E_h7RjNLij42jChWHEO57ZLXJ0tsA-zXG64odUVlExn_U-w4lIsJHvuuOcvVHyxGSabWLhVaosCR-yg2Eikxg/s1600/20160310_094350.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1600" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdv6CZ9_cX3Pj4Dmc9uzG3uZXj1V5QUDnpmzBG6JjkMIlPB6u1E_h7RjNLij42jChWHEO57ZLXJ0tsA-zXG64odUVlExn_U-w4lIsJHvuuOcvVHyxGSabWLhVaosCR-yg2Eikxg/s200/20160310_094350.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
Just a short two weeks ago, as I was out walking the trails at Fitzgerald Lake, there was a cold north wind that gusted its way through the tops of the hemlock trees. It didn't feel as though spring was quite in the air yet, though by the calendar it certainly should have been. You could make out small red buds on some of the trees but there was nothing else to really suggest that winter was over except that when the wind wasn't blowing, where the trail widened and there were fewer trees and very little undergrowth, the sun was warm. It might have been fall--the trees were still mostly bare.<br />
<br />
<br />
I stopped by the edge of the swamp off Boggy Meadow trail to watch a lone mallard drift lazily around the fallen trees. There's usually a lot of activity here. Sometimes you can see turtles hanging out on floating logs and trunks of trees that beavers have felled and abandoned, probably because the trees were too big to maneuver through the maze of stumps and dead trees and branches that have broken off in storms or simply rotted and dropped in the water. The mallard, its iridescent green head catching the sunlight, seemed oblivious to me, but it was in its element and it knew, I'm sure, that I was just a spectator. I'm not sure whether it was the sun breaking through the clouds or the mallard--the only bit of bright color in an otherwise dull gray landscape--that brought my attention to the grayness of everything around me. There are winterberry bushes with their red fruit and a few flowering weeds here and there, depending on the season, but all of the trees in the swamp, for as far as you can see, are dead, with dead, gray bark--no greens or browns or rust colors here. It all reminded me that most things in life are gray in a metaphorical sense; nothing ever seems simple or black and white, especially, I suppose, when it comes to the applications of kata.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5RUqnyLHrDgezN0NiIaSEZjgzITy4erh1Y_OniyZTFsXsbdLp6bdQF_G65m2ecqDV2t9D9Uo5i6rkes337j1TDDgZcBdNAfqvkHcEviDDQA3QaowhGunkNV6XiDl6U4w841BBZg/s1600/IMG_1297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5RUqnyLHrDgezN0NiIaSEZjgzITy4erh1Y_OniyZTFsXsbdLp6bdQF_G65m2ecqDV2t9D9Uo5i6rkes337j1TDDgZcBdNAfqvkHcEviDDQA3QaowhGunkNV6XiDl6U4w841BBZg/s200/IMG_1297.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first technique on the turn from<br />
Seisan, blocking with the right and<br />
attacking with the left palm strike<br />
...or is it another block?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We were fooling around with a different <i>bunkai</i> for the first sequence of Seisan kata the other day, the sequence that begins with the first turn. I had noticed there was something about this sequence that reminded me of the first complete <i>bunkai</i> sequence in Suparinpei, the steps and open-hand "blocks" that follow the last angle technique in <i>shiko dachi</i> to the northeast. I have always assumed that in Suparinpei, the defender is stepping in on an attacker standing in front of him; the first step, with the left foot and left hand coming to the outside of the attacker's right arm and pushing down, and the second step, with the right foot and right hand, coming up inside the attacker's left arm, pushing out. This is followed with another step, bringing the defender's left hand past the attacker's head, kicking with the right, and then bringing the attacker's head into the defender's right elbow attack. Then the right arm comes out and, with the left hand on the chin and the right grabbing the hair or back of the head, the opponent's head is twisted forcefully, breaking the neck.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoKimpoB9tUAkFWmb1IWWX4hAqTzfOhTB8prLYyWnOxDuL4avbcuAC70FFqQLxtvOSUErGRetu404JsAe6jZbw-hZv94Me-2fN80kKx9uvxQ_uHgHzaUpeS07ATRX89czx0Y40xQ/s1600/fullsizeoutput_b98.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoKimpoB9tUAkFWmb1IWWX4hAqTzfOhTB8prLYyWnOxDuL4avbcuAC70FFqQLxtvOSUErGRetu404JsAe6jZbw-hZv94Me-2fN80kKx9uvxQ_uHgHzaUpeS07ATRX89czx0Y40xQ/s200/fullsizeoutput_b98.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beginning of the first complete<br />
bunkai sequence in Suparinpei,<br />
after the last of the four angle<br />
techniques in shiko dachi.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In Seisan, on the other hand, I have always assumed, because it fits with the principles we find in many of the other classical kata of Goju-ryu, that in turning around we are stepping off line, avoiding and blocking the left punch of an attacker stepping in from the west--blocking his left punch with the semi-circular motion of the right arm while attacking the head with a left palm strike. However, if the principle of stepping off line is <u>not</u> one of the things being illustrated by the structure of Seisan kata--if it is more akin to Suparinpei since there are many other similarities between these two kata--perhaps the <i>bunkai</i> or how to apply these techniques in Seisan is also similar to the above section of Suparinpei. If one is simply turning to <u>face</u> an attacker, and the attacker is either grappling with both hands or punching with first the left and then the right, we have something similar to Suparinpei, though initially on the opposite side. If this is the case, the defender would first<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9jIXoghYdIFtmaAqGDdAtOcFacOAyz_EC4R11pCFDLSlUMISCpsXBSvhTu4-WWDcO53H8qmCEZV2atLJd1JUmQlO03MFxX1fyISAtQynsOevrbiXYuP2dTtOvSsmgKaC182y18g/s1600/IMG_1712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9jIXoghYdIFtmaAqGDdAtOcFacOAyz_EC4R11pCFDLSlUMISCpsXBSvhTu4-WWDcO53H8qmCEZV2atLJd1JUmQlO03MFxX1fyISAtQynsOevrbiXYuP2dTtOvSsmgKaC182y18g/s200/IMG_1712.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beginning of the head twisting<br />
finishing technique in Seisan.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
block with the right from the outside of the attacker's left arm, pushing it down, and then block with the left on the inside of the attacker's right arm. Then, stepping forward with the right foot, the left hand, still in contact with the attacker's arm, pushes or pulls the attacker's right arm down, while the defender's right arm is brought up to attack the opponent's neck with a right, palm up <i>shuto</i>. Then, grabbing the hair (in ancient times, the topknot), the defender would step forward again, pulling the head down, while bringing the left palm up to grab the opponent's chin. The sequence from here pivots to the right (or west), twisting the head, and finally employing the ubiquitous knee kick to finish.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBIO5Xef9UqG1vlwcxxTTH8tmyMV8-hhCBTzB8fPHsFs8BD0Z4ag3ZEOQgHDEI7dURXrJ9A-W_GX_94KlIiNooC58naly1A6O1PtWBTSRoKbLL1Y4syrneklFKsw0QbXqDWLBtkQ/s1600/IMG_1967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBIO5Xef9UqG1vlwcxxTTH8tmyMV8-hhCBTzB8fPHsFs8BD0Z4ag3ZEOQgHDEI7dURXrJ9A-W_GX_94KlIiNooC58naly1A6O1PtWBTSRoKbLL1Y4syrneklFKsw0QbXqDWLBtkQ/s200/IMG_1967.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beginning of the head twisting<br />
finishing technique in Suparinpei.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm not sure which is the right answer, at least so far as what may have been the original intent of kata, and in some ways this <i>bunkai</i> and the one I have always practiced (and illustrated in my book, <i>The Kata and Bunkai of Goju-ryu</i>)--that is, stepping off line--are very similar. An awful lot may depend on the kind of attack the moves in kata are a response to, and that's the side that we can't see; all we have is the kata side, the defender's movements. And then there's the question of how this view might alter one's understanding of the other two <i>bunkai</i> sequences in Seisan kata. In other words, rather than showing three variations of the same <i>bunkai</i> or applications, the other two sequences would, if begun the same way, be substantially different. Would that, in turn, change how we thematically looked at the techniques of Seisan kata?<br />
<br />
Of course, even so, some ideas may be better than others. Or, it may be simply a matter of personal preference. I don't know. Sometimes there is a lot of gray area in the landscape.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-85597728879661832952018-04-17T06:04:00.000-08:002018-04-17T06:04:51.848-08:00Connections<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCML3Iwv24nD6GM-aSJ_7L8C5qUwjCScmDwqwF4InnpqlRHOtjf-I-NSwfBKa7YPWZ21joidJpMpOQUEAdRZpYptHi-tohsDdpCqzlnz_7h_7MfHRRiD5u4-GGmAsLSaPsf2yYSw/s1600/IMG_1167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCML3Iwv24nD6GM-aSJ_7L8C5qUwjCScmDwqwF4InnpqlRHOtjf-I-NSwfBKa7YPWZ21joidJpMpOQUEAdRZpYptHi-tohsDdpCqzlnz_7h_7MfHRRiD5u4-GGmAsLSaPsf2yYSw/s200/IMG_1167.JPG" width="200" /></a>The temperature hit 50 degrees F. (10 degrees C.). Spring seemed just around the corner even though the paths through the woods were still covered with ice. The last snowfall had been packed down along the most travelled paths from countless boots and dog paws, melting in the daytime and then refreezing at night. The snow was gone alongside the trails. Even in under the shade of the evergreens, it looked like fall, with a blanket of dead leaves spread out everywhere. You could hear the squirrels hurrying about, surprised, I suppose, that anyone was out in the woods today--it was really too icy to navigate the trails. It was a day to bushwhack off to the side of the main trails, looking for landmarks, heading up the hill in the general direction of the ridge with its outcropping of rocks.<br />
<br />
Off in the woods in the late winter and early spring, the trees stand quietly, no wind rustling through the leaves, as if they are patiently or perhaps stoically waiting for warmer weather, for the longer days that will tell them it's time to wake up, to "shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit," though I don't know why Shakespeare's words should come to mind now. The woods in winter seem far more prosaic, or at least I do, plodding along the trails.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghQ_2eUPiazfz5XyKfRhU92yCGO7Jr5GhGOjSIwH1rZkiVnX8N-p3-S4bJ8YgP_GjOnEAzwdx7XVMP5BT5tTqdQbVgWNURfS6bopovxkMJO9wb0I8CinxfyXU05zSOz2gf9ZVclA/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1140.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghQ_2eUPiazfz5XyKfRhU92yCGO7Jr5GhGOjSIwH1rZkiVnX8N-p3-S4bJ8YgP_GjOnEAzwdx7XVMP5BT5tTqdQbVgWNURfS6bopovxkMJO9wb0I8CinxfyXU05zSOz2gf9ZVclA/s200/fullsizeoutput_1140.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The double-arm kamae shared by<br />
all four kata.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Without the leaves and underbrush, you tend to notice the trees themselves more. Most of the lower branches have dropped, scattered across the forest floor. The ones that have fallen on the trails have been picked up and thrown off into the woods, keeping the trails clear for hikers. The bark is the only thing that tends to distinguish one tree from another in the winter, though there are the odd aspens and small oak saplings that seem to have hung onto a few of their dry, brown leaves. There are oaks here, but they confuse me at this time of year. There are red oaks and pin oaks and eastern white oaks and maybe a chinquapin scrub oak, but I can't tell the difference just from the bark. I'd need to see the leaves, and even then I'd have to bring along Sibley's tree guide. The birches are another story, what with the horizontal striations up and down their trunks, and there are a lot of birches, scattered in their own little groves along the trail. There's the familiar paper birch, though sometimes from a distance the smaller ones look an awful lot like quaking aspens. Then there's the yellow birch and the river birch and the black birch, also known as sweet birch, I believe, because they used the sap for making birch beer.<br />
<br />
I used to have two large European white birch trees in back of the house. One had a trunk almost three feet in diameter and must have been over sixty feet tall. But we lost them both to borer beetles and had to cut them down.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlhLP9i1wEyr3VqbA0CezyT3miT7c4JtBhnfDDlx8liWOglrhnlaFai6zUGPEgaQ03irXboXxtsshfdfjKkS6fWmwPKkQSKvkex0jUEZjZk8psteMQGscEAuseUDpZEohUGj1INQ/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1144.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlhLP9i1wEyr3VqbA0CezyT3miT7c4JtBhnfDDlx8liWOglrhnlaFai6zUGPEgaQ03irXboXxtsshfdfjKkS6fWmwPKkQSKvkex0jUEZjZk8psteMQGscEAuseUDpZEohUGj1INQ/s200/fullsizeoutput_1144.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Suparinpei.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The birches are all related, of course--you can see the lenticels on the bark quite easily--but I think it's rare that they inter-breed. Yet the fact that there are so many related species here calls to mind that old discussion about Goju kata origins that seemed to rage for years, and still seems to crop up now and again. The argument that many put forward suggested that originally there were only four kata that comprised the classical curriculum of Goju-ryu: Sanchin, Sanseiru, Seisan, and Suparinpei. The other kata, it was argued, were either from different sources or were added later by Miyagi Chojun sensei, but they were not part of the original system taught by Kanryo Higashionna. It's an easy argument to put forward since there seems to be no documentary proof either way and there is an obvious similarity between the techniques of those four kata. In fact, it wouldn't be too far-fetched to suggest that Suparinpei itself is a sort of composite of the three other kata, which for me, as heretical as it may be, always calls to mind the old chicken and egg question: Which came first, Suparinpei or Seisan and Sanseiru?<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDpC7XiF0Kp9SP6FhfmVy5O11-MZ8U-ZlEOuD1v-TWt0pSQVQ9A31dSoEQVa8bwED1ZGG-Ezo04242WyIZKXQslyFsRjCy1fdEL3QAHo3JhZgo31Lsyw9GDPnhs8KlfY5sY9lHLA/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1142.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDpC7XiF0Kp9SP6FhfmVy5O11-MZ8U-ZlEOuD1v-TWt0pSQVQ9A31dSoEQVa8bwED1ZGG-Ezo04242WyIZKXQslyFsRjCy1fdEL3QAHo3JhZgo31Lsyw9GDPnhs8KlfY5sY9lHLA/s200/fullsizeoutput_1142.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the similarities between<br />
Seiunchin and Suparinpei.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But those three kata--Sanchin, Sanseiru, and Seisan--are so obviously related to Suparinpei, why not Seiunchin? There are similarities there, too. Look at the opening <i>mawashi</i> series in Suparinpei and compare it to the opening series in Seiunchin, the right hand head grab and left hand "<i>nukite</i>" to the chin or neck. It may not be identical--Suparinpei comes off a <i>mawashi-uke</i> technique while Seiunchin comes off an arm-bar technique--but the application is the same. And neither one is an end in itself--that is, the finishing technique in Seiunchin is only shown after the third repetition and the <u>possible</u> finishing techniques in Suparinpei are shown separately, later in the kata.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2lO-1S8DSbn0QonZKrPK3CQ28eOwBeXDs1bOPkXFuhZEbLV9ah-CBJPudXxvkQS1B6dn5rYYjT6FIIIDHFKnBQrLJLJezzzK9p64xv3Dp2afDrX7HraBA7z08J0Xr-jucyGxxug/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1146.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1281" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2lO-1S8DSbn0QonZKrPK3CQ28eOwBeXDs1bOPkXFuhZEbLV9ah-CBJPudXxvkQS1B6dn5rYYjT6FIIIDHFKnBQrLJLJezzzK9p64xv3Dp2afDrX7HraBA7z08J0Xr-jucyGxxug/s200/fullsizeoutput_1146.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The angle technique from Suparinpei.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And what about the opening technique in Seiunchin, the left hand grab release that begins the kata? We see this same technique (admittedly with only a single hand) used later in Suparinpei, one of four steps into <i>shiko dachi</i> done along the northwest-southeast and southwest-northeast angles. In both cases, the key principle is the dropping of the elbow as the left hand is rotated up and the defender drops into <i>shiko dachi</i>. Both look very much like release techniques from an attacker's cross-hand grab. The difference is that Seiunchin kata is a good deal clearer than Suparinpei, but only because the structure of Seiunchin clearly shows a <i>bunkai</i> sequence with a beginning, middle, and end, or an initial receiving technique, a controlling or bridging technique, and a finishing technique. Suparinpei, because of the uniqueness of its somewhat fragmented structure, only shows the initial technique and the bridging technique, moving from a left-foot forward <i>shiko dachi</i> to a step into a right-foot forward <i>shiko dachi</i>. The interesting thing is that the logical finishing technique for this is the step back into a left-foot forward <i>shiko dachi,</i> attacking with a left arm <i>gedan barai</i> or what is often called a down block. We see this in Seiunchin kata as the finishing technique for each of the four angle sequences.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUY-p8OknItYtxfO3V2KmKc9CFxuGgX5gddzm08bbLR_jI9Z2etqZBq2sUhDapQxHch6IDG45vsA0rW3fiCLrXr4s2FTRfS-waLWy1Qqiht2K5VjFGrv-252lp_S4yfJ6rIArpw/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1148.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUY-p8OknItYtxfO3V2KmKc9CFxuGgX5gddzm08bbLR_jI9Z2etqZBq2sUhDapQxHch6IDG45vsA0rW3fiCLrXr4s2FTRfS-waLWy1Qqiht2K5VjFGrv-252lp_S4yfJ6rIArpw/s200/fullsizeoutput_1148.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The forearm attack from Seiunchin,<br />
also done on the angles.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So should Seiunchin kata be included in the "original" kata of Goju-ryu, since it too shows distinct similarities to Suparinpei? And if Seiunchin, why not Shisochin and Seipai and Kururunfa? After all, I'd be hard pressed to tell the difference between the leaf of a black birch and an American beech tree, and birches are related to alders and hazels and hornbeams as well. These origin debates may seem pretty fruitless and academic to most people, but a comparison of seemingly different techniques may, in fact, help explain certain techniques that may at first glance seem utterly baffling.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-54130089166916210432018-04-02T15:14:00.000-08:002018-04-02T15:14:19.062-08:00A step at a time...maybe that's the problem<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5iz6nkg6PvY9P3j_k2tdKnFSoD1Rr6kxVcot49p07fnhR_SGYxfAWkLUNm7x5cm-c4yXvlPs0_ZkUIa7cOt0qFeCk7_ULCCKDOB-bGZsDixYVafRc-wJ6ISEjSCSO-5TcY20pA/s1600/IMG_1126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5iz6nkg6PvY9P3j_k2tdKnFSoD1Rr6kxVcot49p07fnhR_SGYxfAWkLUNm7x5cm-c4yXvlPs0_ZkUIa7cOt0qFeCk7_ULCCKDOB-bGZsDixYVafRc-wJ6ISEjSCSO-5TcY20pA/s200/IMG_1126.JPG" width="200" /></a>It rained all day. And then it stopped. The sun came out and the clouds drifted off to the southeast. The water just sits there, collecting in pools. I suppose the ground is still mostly frozen. Everywhere you look there are puddles reflecting the skeletal images of winter trees and bare bushes drooping by the side of the trail. Off in the woods, it's damp and the swamp has overflowed the old gravel and dirt road that cuts through the conservation area on its way to the lake. But last year they put some stumps along the side and nailed down some planks so you can make it around the flooded part if you're careful and take your time--the planks are narrow and a little twisted, and the stumps shift a bit in the ground.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgC3UbvUpHG1bCHrY3ItQODrfZdARTZJBVISy_EgYwg7w8o9bY0_Y_7v8Eh_zmdHdCFgc_GKXxSEqObIN7e8PKmRjJMQBbeJd-xnPf78sUfq72hxrWo7Htgp8C0BBkBXx0wcSjkQ/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1138.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1143" data-original-width="1600" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgC3UbvUpHG1bCHrY3ItQODrfZdARTZJBVISy_EgYwg7w8o9bY0_Y_7v8Eh_zmdHdCFgc_GKXxSEqObIN7e8PKmRjJMQBbeJd-xnPf78sUfq72hxrWo7Htgp8C0BBkBXx0wcSjkQ/s200/fullsizeoutput_1138.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How the last mawashi technique in<br />
Saifa often begins.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizFFHymL7ec1KaduTbCl6Q5XhqP4DNUI127LSEzf8uVn8thyGQ5zjUK2SsdxnDoaXM6MYqap3iF1gCHTgtMy_HoxAe-5iml8xHPqeCHnLOJMaJKQKhgqDp4PLhQplWaO5AbrbdKA/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1139.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1143" data-original-width="1600" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizFFHymL7ec1KaduTbCl6Q5XhqP4DNUI127LSEzf8uVn8thyGQ5zjUK2SsdxnDoaXM6MYqap3iF1gCHTgtMy_HoxAe-5iml8xHPqeCHnLOJMaJKQKhgqDp4PLhQplWaO5AbrbdKA/s200/fullsizeoutput_1139.jpeg" width="200" /></a>On the north trail, you have to step carefully from rock to rock to avoid the mud and standing water. In the spring this stretch of the trail is swampy, with skunk cabbage and small wild flowers that cover the rocks and provide a home to a host of little insects, but in the summer it all dries up again, and then the hikers chart a "social path" around the rocks, reconnecting with the trail as it begins to climb up the nearest hill. With the damp and the cold temperatures, however, the rocks are slippery. You have to pick your way cautiously across this little boggy area, scouting out your route, balancing on each slick stone, looking for flat surfaces or somewhere you can get a purchase, as they say, carefully placing one foot in front of the other.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEity4mLmZiR9JtAZNSnP-47ZOfXKP5m9QgZVc8PyrdwUVay5-EyWms_TgePIfzu1jH1K2YkGk56ad-IB9MIvJidkHBdUcbU_VC7Xd49SELIN9tudUxJpEmMvvVi_DLmMIZFh9bT6Q/s1600/fullsizeoutput_113b.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1143" data-original-width="1600" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEity4mLmZiR9JtAZNSnP-47ZOfXKP5m9QgZVc8PyrdwUVay5-EyWms_TgePIfzu1jH1K2YkGk56ad-IB9MIvJidkHBdUcbU_VC7Xd49SELIN9tudUxJpEmMvvVi_DLmMIZFh9bT6Q/s200/fullsizeoutput_113b.jpeg" width="200" /></a>One step and then pause, and then the hands come up, almost like a counter-weight. For some reason it made me think of open training time in Okinawa, when you watched senior students toiling with the <i>nigiri-game</i> (gripping jars) across the dojo floor. At least that's what it reminded me of with the slow and careful placement of each step, keeping balanced and steady. Beginners were over to the side, carefully trying to match their steps with the footprints outlined in white on the floor, shifting their weight from one foot to the other as they practiced walking in <i>sanchin dachi</i>.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO662vkqh0KGFTLoLp1hdWcJQ-UE9QYFgPMgFuchPY_i-VCeIyH8E-L24FwC1iUNXAsCW9Ar6gVupdwxkyE1WNHFI4bSPZg5-49_0naoeA7mxNaTLz4j_1Y-vKHoXIoYl7dAbhHQ/s1600/fullsizeoutput_113d.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1130" data-original-width="1600" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO662vkqh0KGFTLoLp1hdWcJQ-UE9QYFgPMgFuchPY_i-VCeIyH8E-L24FwC1iUNXAsCW9Ar6gVupdwxkyE1WNHFI4bSPZg5-49_0naoeA7mxNaTLz4j_1Y-vKHoXIoYl7dAbhHQ/s200/fullsizeoutput_113d.jpeg" width="200" /></a>I wondered how this sort of care--focusing on one step at a time, one thing at a time--informed our practice of kata and, ultimately, our understanding of the techniques of kata, <i>bunkai</i>. I understand the need to break complex movements down into smaller, more manageable bits, sometimes separating the steps and movements of the feet from whatever the hands and arms seem to be doing, particularly when we're learning something, but I wonder whether this piecemeal approach to the teaching of kata has a detrimental effect on someone's ability to understand the applications of the techniques themselves?<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64T0CL6DibxNh5QyN1re1JS6SSnFh7ybgQsMzcdwmk2-e8REareGiRaEOKhtP532ACbjVVggUD8DbeaH2me6PWqEXo66-cQ-jnD6x8AtQJEGObbTVFDmvGbDEaZIGY1eWByx5JA/s1600/fullsizeoutput_113e.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1173" data-original-width="1600" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64T0CL6DibxNh5QyN1re1JS6SSnFh7ybgQsMzcdwmk2-e8REareGiRaEOKhtP532ACbjVVggUD8DbeaH2me6PWqEXo66-cQ-jnD6x8AtQJEGObbTVFDmvGbDEaZIGY1eWByx5JA/s200/fullsizeoutput_113e.jpeg" width="200" /></a>I have often watched senior students, and even teachers, do kata in this sort of fragmented, staccato manner: First they step, then pivot, then the left hand moves, then the right hand moves, then the right hand moves again, turning over as it drops to the knee, then the right hand is brought up to the hip, then the left hand rotates as the body turns squarely to the front, and finally they both push forward. This is how you might describe the last technique in Saifa kata, the step into cat stance (<i>neko ashi dachi</i>) with the <i>mawashi</i>-like arm movements, as it is often demonstrated. The problem is that in attempting to analyze kata movement when it is performed in this fashion--the way we learn kata as a beginner--we often assume that there should be an explanation or <i>bunkai</i> for each separate movement. And this is a problem.<br />
<br />
When we do kata this way--breaking each technique into smaller and smaller pieces--and then attempt to assign meaning to each of these pieces, we fail to see the technique as a whole. We fail to see how the arms and legs--indeed the whole body--functions as a whole. We have, in fact, put breaks or gaps into what should be a single, fluid movement. What should be seen as a final, head-twisting technique attached to the previous series of moves (beginning with the sweep and over-hand hammer fist) is instead seen as a series of individual blocks against multiple attacks, culminating in a final push.<br />
<br />
It's fine to take the movements and techniques of kata apart in order to teach them. This is the way we learn most things. But you have to put them back together at some point. There really should be no gaps. Someone who has just learned a kata looks as if they are picking their way across a boggy meadow, stepping carefully from rock to rock. Someone who has been practicing the same kata for years, however, should be fluid, without any discontinuity in their movements--you see the connection between the arms and the legs. When they step into the last technique of Saifa kata, for<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKMT6gCqH4im7drNSp-OEv9ZbICE1NEhqmJTxDDO-8tZGxwwyP5IqN7gFyKlGvd7z8rLHzMsuf-5nlZTc0IRpTHZ-9DH8rYwH7HDWXxSCH9e-sIDiyTdXVydYQbscAYg_0ECe5QA/s1600/fullsizeoutput_104b.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="736" data-original-width="1600" height="91" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKMT6gCqH4im7drNSp-OEv9ZbICE1NEhqmJTxDDO-8tZGxwwyP5IqN7gFyKlGvd7z8rLHzMsuf-5nlZTc0IRpTHZ-9DH8rYwH7HDWXxSCH9e-sIDiyTdXVydYQbscAYg_0ECe5QA/s200/fullsizeoutput_104b.jpeg" width="200" /></a> example, turning to the front in cat stance, there are really only two movements: one to gather the opponent's head, one hand on the chin and the other on the back of the head; and the second to twist the head and attack it with a knee kick. Two techniques. If you were beating time on a drum, you would hear two thumps, and that's it--one, two. Of course, the way most people perform kata they look as though their feet had sunk in the mud and their hands were carefully parting the reeds to get a better view. If we're aware of this, however, if we keep this in mind, maybe it will help when we go back to look at kata applications, and, in fact, maybe it will help us avoid looking as though we're picking our way over half-submerged rocks in a marsh.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-16713242605465292722018-03-16T15:02:00.000-08:002018-03-16T15:02:36.787-08:00The influence of the times<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ0Lzy6uBgl-EVl6zHpiohbY8w2cXKABBKWDgXweGZhpcilBVX1yhYaS02X1vy9rOYOyHPZX1PXhO7kXPUzXmyUxgu73H9GJUShf2wOByuJSbzSkM1L7zuBCcq_rek7PenfwyRuA/s1600/IMG_1206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ0Lzy6uBgl-EVl6zHpiohbY8w2cXKABBKWDgXweGZhpcilBVX1yhYaS02X1vy9rOYOyHPZX1PXhO7kXPUzXmyUxgu73H9GJUShf2wOByuJSbzSkM1L7zuBCcq_rek7PenfwyRuA/s200/IMG_1206.JPG" width="200" /></a>The vernal pools have started to appear along the trail. It's early spring. There are Canada geese overhead. A light coating of snow from the day before has melted and turned the trail to mud wherever rivulets of water run down the slightest incline or an old stream bed crosses the trail. In the summer these running springs dry up, leaving only rounded rocks and boulders in their place as if a glacier receded, leaving behind these miniature finger-like moraines. Actually, this whole mountain, quite surprisingly, was once volcanic. Blackened bits of volcanic rock appear haphazardly along the edge of the woods in the summer when the trail is dry and the leaves have been shredded and stamped to a fine dust by hundreds of hiker's boots and dog paws, eroding the trail another sixteenth of an inch, compacting the ground over time, ensuring that there is a trail immune from the efforts of long-buried acorns and catkins and trailing vines trying to push their way up through the soil.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMkHYXE7yKDYxkWVTCZeyWb4MaUrTm3Y0xx3Y5UNClN0oQY-vTH4xk890wh3K5-HK9SeMSWBrI0DjvLsk8HuIXms_uFCWtpqt09Hl-E_tqejbHgGGz1DQd17zvPWMMwX5bYh9NWQ/s1600/fullsizeoutput_d19.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1208" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMkHYXE7yKDYxkWVTCZeyWb4MaUrTm3Y0xx3Y5UNClN0oQY-vTH4xk890wh3K5-HK9SeMSWBrI0DjvLsk8HuIXms_uFCWtpqt09Hl-E_tqejbHgGGz1DQd17zvPWMMwX5bYh9NWQ/s200/fullsizeoutput_d19.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the hair-grabbing techniques<br />
from Seipai kata.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Today, however, there are long wet smudges where a boot heel has so obviously slipped or skidded across the watery surface of a flat rock. These skid marks tend to color my perception of the trail, and I find myself carefully watching where I put my feet, though in reality there are thousands of footprints going up this trail and very few places to mark where someone has slipped or lost their footing.<br />
<br />
In the wet places, where these vernal pools appear, there are "social paths" that now meander off through drying woods and ground that seems a bit higher than the trail. A small cluster of beech trees stands at a bend in the trail, each with someone's initials carved in its smooth-barked trunk. It reminds me that this forest which was once a primal wilderness has now been largely tamed. The trails have been cut and the woods is managed to some extent. There are regular forays of bird watchers and dog walkers and concerned citizens looking for non-native invasive species to rip out and cart away. My perception of the forest, and what I should like to call "the wilderness," has been conditioned, no doubt influenced by the times.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHjpB9QIW1hqY-btu_2VfnbSLkAdfNJK0II508ae5Ii2JnLji8-1-Sajr4AbfMkrocKpLGYZoF2zO33cML9iliA09UpV-c97iYazaHZzi-sdb4gSnQs6dQghH_ojE359U4wPSAHA/s1600/fullsizeoutput_c97.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHjpB9QIW1hqY-btu_2VfnbSLkAdfNJK0II508ae5Ii2JnLji8-1-Sajr4AbfMkrocKpLGYZoF2zO33cML9iliA09UpV-c97iYazaHZzi-sdb4gSnQs6dQghH_ojE359U4wPSAHA/s200/fullsizeoutput_c97.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the hair-grabbing techniques<br />
from Saifa kata. The left hand has<br />
grabbed the hair or topknot.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In some sense, this is like looking at kata through a glass darkly, like looking through an early morning fog that sits in the valley, hiding the river and the woods on the opposite bank, trying to discern not only the movements of someone in a distant clearing doing kata but the reasons for the movements as well, the<br />
<i>bunkai</i>. We are conditioned, it seems to me, to see fighting or self defense in terms of blocking, punching, and kicking. We tend to interpret our martial arts in familiar terms, as something akin to boxing. Everyone is familiar with fisticuffs, dust-ups, brawls--all substitutes for boxing matches of one kind or another. But what if, looking back some two hundred years or so, the times themselves influenced the martial arts of the period? And the irony is that we are left with the outward form (kata) of this ancient martial tradition, yet we attempt to interpret how to use it (<i>bunkai</i>) by overlaying it with a 21st century template. It's as if we set out to trace letters on a stencil where we had accidentally superimposed a sheet of arial fonts over an ornate gothic alphabet.<br />
<br />
Of course, much of this line of speculation only raises more questions. There are few easy answers here. Many of the self defense techniques of Goju-ryu classical, or as some say <i>koryu</i> kata, seem to begin from a grappling posture with a variety of techniques against grabs of one kind or another. Was this a response to how people dressed in ancient times? Was punching from the distance of an arm's length less likely and more awkward if one wore loose robes? Was one less likely to kick with the foot if one wore sandals or <i>geta</i> or <i>zori</i>? So many of the controlling and finishing techniques we find in Goju-ryu classical kata seem to show the grabbing of the opponent's hair or topknot or queue, and knee kicks (<i>hiza geri</i>) seem much more prevalent. Do we no longer "see" these techniques in kata because most people nowadays wear their hair short? Does the fact that we wear shoes most of the time make kicking with the foot a better option?<br />
<br />
If the martial arts were largely practiced by--perhaps even developed by--the military classes, wouldn't you be most likely to fight empty handed only after you lost your weapon? And in that case, wouldn't you be most likely to charge your opponent, who may still have a weapon, so that his use of that weapon would not be to his advantage? In other words, would I really want to stay at a boxing range, arm's length, against someone with a weapon? Granted, the safest thing to do would be to run away. But if one chose to fight, and one could close the distance safely, wouldn't the ensuing brawl involve grappling?<br />
<br />
I think in some sense this may involve the practice of weapons (<i>kobudo</i>) too, and particularly the staff or <i>rokushakubo.</i> Again, this is pure speculation on my part, but if--merely a fanciful hypothesis--practice of weapons was also mainly engaged in by the military classes, wouldn't these long weapons have been pointed or bladed for the most part? And if that's the case, as a more likely scenario, does that change how we "see" certain "poking" or "hooking" or "pulling" movements in different <i>bo</i> kata? That is, if the <i>rokushakubo</i> kata--e.g. Shushi no kon, Tsuken no kon, etc.--were actually first developed to preserve techniques of a halberd-like weapon, how would this change the way we viewed kata, and especially <i>bunkai</i>? This style of <i>bo</i> and these kata were clearly developed to utilize both ends of the staff--either blocking with the front end and quickly attacking with the other end or blocking/parrying with the heel end and quickly attacking with the front end. (This double-ended <i>bo</i> technique, I was once told by a noted Chinese sifu after I had demonstrated Tsuken no kon, was called dragon staff.)<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgczizEkhxz95oBwPzWX9wfL2Yk4bqQX_-kPBl3RMwuyB3tFvktJeuQjqRYMdUehOefXV1M6sg5vG-U1nKrfMeSRunFDYweqfqIx3F5abGu8Byg3XvTpUgC0GM0szl8e3K1RhW0hw/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1150.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="530" data-original-width="663" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgczizEkhxz95oBwPzWX9wfL2Yk4bqQX_-kPBl3RMwuyB3tFvktJeuQjqRYMdUehOefXV1M6sg5vG-U1nKrfMeSRunFDYweqfqIx3F5abGu8Byg3XvTpUgC0GM0szl8e3K1RhW0hw/s200/fullsizeoutput_1150.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A collection of Chinese bladed<br />
weapons in the Matayoshi<br />
hombu dojo.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But in some kata, the slicing (if that's what it is) or hooking or pulling motions seem to all be executed with one end of the staff. If only one end of the weapon had a hook (like the<br />
<i>nunti bo</i>, for instance) or a blade of some sort (like all of the Chinese long weapons that stand in a rack at the front of the Matayoshi hombu dojo), could this explain the apparent different uses we see of the two ends of the staff? And did the substitution (if that's indeed what happened) of a staff for a more militaristic bladed or halberd-style weapon come about due, once again, to the influence of the times?<br />
<br />
I can walk off in the woods and pretend that I've left civilization for a time. I can sit on a log under a leafy maple tree, and if I'm quiet enough and up-wind, a deer might wander by or an owl might perch in the same tree. But as I walk up the mountain, I see a tree that fell across the trail last week carefully cut in thirds, its pieces rolled to the side to clear the way for us wilderness hikers.<br />
<br />
[For a more detailed discussion of these techniques see my book, The Kata and Bunkai of Goju-Ryu, <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/562446/the-kata-and-bunkai-of-goju-ryu-karate-by-giles-hopkins/9781623171995/">here</a>.]<br />
<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-83961132243104919392018-02-28T08:37:00.000-08:002018-02-28T08:39:18.834-08:00Patterns or structure of kata<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1miNwPAG7pCXD7EJSLh5tzVVqbxzZvuvcfab1Yp97-T6py4EyR634gHgfvIPI3T-w66QAF2AN43rmGUEnu3YALo-9JlFERU3DCFBtY837ZyLqbCJMZLGQ3RC4tULNd8_5lZwFg/s1600/IMG_1176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1miNwPAG7pCXD7EJSLh5tzVVqbxzZvuvcfab1Yp97-T6py4EyR634gHgfvIPI3T-w66QAF2AN43rmGUEnu3YALo-9JlFERU3DCFBtY837ZyLqbCJMZLGQ3RC4tULNd8_5lZwFg/s200/IMG_1176.JPG" width="150" /></a>Snow showers. I'm not even sure what that means, but they left a light, powdery coating of snow on everything. A dusting, they call it. The trail cuts a white, meandering path through the woods, and even the rocks along the path catch the snow in places, like white shadows clinging to small indentations, protected for the moment from the winter sun or gusts of wind. It almost looks as though no one has passed this way, no footprints to mark the trail and scuff up bits of leaves and gravel. I might be the only one who has passed this way, at least today, because, of course, it's a trail. Someone made it, carved it out of the forest, cut saplings and cleared brush.<br />
<br />
I'm thinking metaphorically again, walking along the trail, mentally practicing kata, thinking about <i>bunkai</i> and imagining the other side, the side that's so hard to picture; the attacking side. This sort of metaphorical thinking reminds me of that book by Murakami, <i>What I Talk About When I Talk About Running</i>. Or that line from <i>Il Postino</i> where Mario asks Neruda, "You mean then that...the whole world is the metaphor for something else?" And with a abashed look, Mario says, "I'm talking crap." And Neruda says, "No, not at all."<br />
<br />
Someone made kata, these patterns of movement that we use to remember techniques of self defense, that we use to learn the martial principles of movement. But the patterns are confusing and seemingly as haphazardly composed as a meandering trail heading off into the woods. No two trails exactly the same. No two kata alike in structure, conforming to the same rules one might use to decipher their patterns. And yet someone passed this way before, left marks, however faint, that would point the way, like trail markers, and explain how we might go about figuring out these seemingly arcane and esoteric movements.<br />
<br />
Are they arcane and esoteric? Certainly they are, to us, a bit anachronistic, in a way, a part of a cultural milieu and time period when one might have needed to defend one's life, fighting to the death with lethal techniques, as anachronistic as many of the techniques that seem to depend on one grabbing the topknot or queue of one's attacker. But esoteric? The effectiveness of most techniques, arguably, is based largely on their simplicity, not their complexity or the difficulty one might have in learning them. The difficulty lies mainly in trying to explain movements and techniques that we can only half see. With kata, we only see the defender's response to an attack. We can only imagine the other side, and this often influences how we interpret the techniques of kata.<br />
<br />
And whoever created these kata, certainly did not make it easy. If a single person put the techniques of these kata together--I'm thinking of the classical subjects of Goju-ryu from Saifa to Suparinpei--then I would expect the patterns to be as uniform and predictable as the set of Pinan kata or the Gekisai kata of the 20th century. But they're not. Seipai kata, for example, is largely asymmetrical--with at least the first three sequences not showing any repetition--using the left hand to "block" and the right hand for the initial attack (which is also true of the fourth sequence, though that sequence is repeated on the other side). Each of the first four sequences--there are seemingly five total sequences, though the fifth sequence shows a variation, in part, on the other side--is shown in its entirety; that is, with an initial receiving, a controlling or bridging technique, and a finishing technique. This is not the same pattern we see in Seiunchin, for example, which, aside from its set of three opening techniques in shiko dachi, repeats most of its techniques on both the right and left sides--that is, in response to a right or left attack--whereas Seipai only repeats the fourth sequence. But even in Seiunchin we have a pattern that is "interrupted," where some of the sequences, unlike most of the sequences of Seipai, only show the final techniques tacked onto the second or final repetition. This is true of the opening sequence of moves, the high-low techniques in <i>shiko dachi</i>, and the "elbow" techniques--that is, the first sequence, the third sequence, and the final sequence.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTY63v7NUnP2yCCaSQyCcr_vK8U3xjJZiBAx9aufRETKgSc93xQy1TlwoaMhb2uGXv-Jagt_H8NnUkrnT85ugAccw6ttyr2qvEg4isd6GB_cyx73uj4C9q8feoi6tIXsvKcHzxLg/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1050.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1025" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTY63v7NUnP2yCCaSQyCcr_vK8U3xjJZiBAx9aufRETKgSc93xQy1TlwoaMhb2uGXv-Jagt_H8NnUkrnT85ugAccw6ttyr2qvEg4isd6GB_cyx73uj4C9q8feoi6tIXsvKcHzxLg/s200/fullsizeoutput_1050.jpeg" width="128" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Core receiving technique<br />
from Sanseiru when used<br />
with the stepping turn.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Sanseiru kata, on the other hand, shows significant repetition in its middle section, repeating this "core" movement--chest "block," kick, "elbow," "punch," kick series--three times, and using an opening sequence that is merely a variation of similar techniques. And Seisan is entirely different again, showing three variations of what is essentially the same <i>bunkai</i> in the three sequences that follow the opening series of repetitive basic techniques--the three punches, three circular blocks, and three palm-up/palm-down techniques with knee kicks followed by a grab and kick.<br />
<br />
There are so many structural variations, in fact, in just these four kata that it certainly seems to suggest different origins or sources, and it certainly adds to the difficulty one has in trying to understand the original <i>bunkai</i> of the different kata. And yet, different kata structures do not change<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh78-OjVdHDhzImzDKt4GfY6tCebodbxrfUfhJkXbN_5p2P4LwOJxfjdxOny3UYpj2dDQvoH0b2vHH29r6HuJoVDCZYlKKhbiTUSlmkdNb1oirUdPjrKyrI_sGJENHu3_V7EoRllg/s1600/fullsizeoutput_1052.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="910" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh78-OjVdHDhzImzDKt4GfY6tCebodbxrfUfhJkXbN_5p2P4LwOJxfjdxOny3UYpj2dDQvoH0b2vHH29r6HuJoVDCZYlKKhbiTUSlmkdNb1oirUdPjrKyrI_sGJENHu3_V7EoRllg/s200/fullsizeoutput_1052.jpeg" width="113" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bridging technique<br />
of the final sequence<br />
in Sanseiru.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
the basic martial principles involved, and these principles are retained regardless of which kata one is looking at or which structure has been used to string together the techniques of the kata. In fact, one of the more interesting aspects of this structural awareness, "seeing the pattern" if you will, is perhaps a sort of radical realization that at least some aspects of the structure of any given kata are completely arbitrary.<br />
<br />
This may seem heretical or at the very least blasphemous, but it's merely another way of seeing the sequences of a kata, another way of practicing kata <i>bunkai</i>. For example: If we take the first sequence of Seiunchin kata described above, we see that the first two opening <i>shiko dachi</i> techniques are incomplete, with the finishing technique only attached to the third repetition--this is the push forward with the "supported punch" and elbow attack. If we attach the finishing technique to the first of these steps into <i>shiko dachi</i> (same as the third) and/or the second of these (on the opposite side), we are not really altering the intent of the kata. We're merely illustrating it in another way, completing the sequences that are only shown in part. We could do the same thing with the core double arm receiving techniques of Sanseiru, attaching them to the open hand bridging techniques we find towards the end of the kata.<br />
<br />
Certainly what we find is that the flow of kata that we have become accustomed to is interrupted, but the real intent of kata is to act as a repository for self-defense techniques, not to be practiced as a performance piece. In fact, the less we see kata as a performance piece for winning trophies at tournaments, the more we may begin to understand its patterns, its structure, and thereby its <i>bunkai</i>.<br />
<br />
[For a more detailed discussion of these techniques see my book, The Kata and Bunkai of Goju-Ryu, <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/562446/the-kata-and-bunkai-of-goju-ryu-karate-by-giles-hopkins/9781623171995/">here</a>.]<br />
<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-38230579874957455712018-02-15T06:19:00.000-08:002018-02-15T06:19:31.416-08:00Just because it's a convention doesn't mean it's right![I wrote this last month, but I somewhat arbitrarily forgot to post it. But then again, what difference does a day make, or a week, or a month for that matter?]<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fTDd5cKLkCdemuHOmmEeoJYQ8b6z9hI-X14Zcc_8FzKuise8WIqHnoZkbGBB0zSBzslfMVZBk_O2l2ADCOULNbTK3fLkcBHUiBIzjk_11zA4bkyTSjuunzNNmSKlEnJ9DHlMsw/s1600/fullsizeoutput_103d.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="1600" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fTDd5cKLkCdemuHOmmEeoJYQ8b6z9hI-X14Zcc_8FzKuise8WIqHnoZkbGBB0zSBzslfMVZBk_O2l2ADCOULNbTK3fLkcBHUiBIzjk_11zA4bkyTSjuunzNNmSKlEnJ9DHlMsw/s200/fullsizeoutput_103d.jpeg" width="200" /></a><br />
Welcome to a new year--January 1st--and yet off in the woods the new year looks pretty much like the old one did a few days ago. The blue jays are scolding me as I trudge by on the trail and the squirrels pause to look up and jump behind a tree, waiting to see whether I'm a threat. I've read that squirrels are very territorial, so I suppose these are the same squirrels that were scurrying around last<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxYhL5wPglOD_5voXs9ZCgkMFjAwjrergMc9T3YEd2skJJewPzNSdcn1iWu49iEdulzEd17D1kx5i8-sSHyUVuvi-YRLMIoMlBH0x46skMCfIqhfRz2XqaPzv1o6cRYtc_jSSzbw/s1600/fullsizeoutput_c93.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxYhL5wPglOD_5voXs9ZCgkMFjAwjrergMc9T3YEd2skJJewPzNSdcn1iWu49iEdulzEd17D1kx5i8-sSHyUVuvi-YRLMIoMlBH0x46skMCfIqhfRz2XqaPzv1o6cRYtc_jSSzbw/s200/fullsizeoutput_c93.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First technique of Saifa kata.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
week, digging up acorns that they had buried last fall. I wonder whether squirrels are really as busy as they seem to be or whether they might be a bit like office workers rearranging the papers on their desks into neater piles, just looking busy in case the boss comes by or the wives ask where they've been all day. <br />
<br />
But the days are already getting longer, past the winter solstice. We've turned another page on the calendar. And yet all of this business of time and calendars is a human construct, isn't it? A mass delusion, or if not a delusion at least something that we all culturally have come to agree on; that is, there's little rhyme or reason to any of it, it's just accepted. I mean, we've had lunar calendars and solar calendars and some combination of the two. Not even the seven-day week is<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1cP3HhZAiFeNoFn6rcgemtbaerq6JhApumk56s-7GamQ5U6GxKQly55LTTUqJ0THyNzVqXebqqV8abgEgu-CA91WuHccmqOCG15d82rBwxPOIBvSNtyGPv1wpcGnfgc9hxDYafA/s1600/fullsizeoutput_ca7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1cP3HhZAiFeNoFn6rcgemtbaerq6JhApumk56s-7GamQ5U6GxKQly55LTTUqJ0THyNzVqXebqqV8abgEgu-CA91WuHccmqOCG15d82rBwxPOIBvSNtyGPv1wpcGnfgc9hxDYafA/s200/fullsizeoutput_ca7.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First technique of Seiunchin kata.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
anything but arbitrary, something we have just come to agree on. In fact, for a good deal of human history we haven't even agreed upon a 24-hour day. Daniel Boorstin's book, <i>The Discoverers</i>, has an interesting section on all of this. Way back in 1582, they took 10 days out to correct the old Julian calendar that was off by 11 minutes and 14 seconds each year, so really I'm not even sure of the date. And in America, we didn't even accept this restructuring until Colonial times.<br />
<br />
Anyway, all of this got me thinking about what we accept as a society, what we take for granted as we carry on with our daily lives. Actually I was thinking about all of this because I had been reading Kazuo Ishiguro's book, <i>The Buried Giant</i>. He describes a medieval England where strangers are feared and the forests are filled with ogres, and mists shroud the land and bring an eerie forgetfulness. And it's all accepted as perfectly natural.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuMnfLTIkItbW9Pw-7swcJBGWYFDTIVKrqHU0xPvAx3KwQNi61jo5N6NDzKCwE7_CzYGO-4CX5KG4B6Kk9Zufs9RRx3ghd6mute3IQ8lmAjvGgP62K6TMCXy9Y_QO40bI9rl4l9w/s1600/fullsizeoutput_d36.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1217" data-original-width="1600" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuMnfLTIkItbW9Pw-7swcJBGWYFDTIVKrqHU0xPvAx3KwQNi61jo5N6NDzKCwE7_CzYGO-4CX5KG4B6Kk9Zufs9RRx3ghd6mute3IQ8lmAjvGgP62K6TMCXy9Y_QO40bI9rl4l9w/s200/fullsizeoutput_d36.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Initial technique of the first<br />
sequence of Sanseiru kata.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It made me wonder about all of the things we accept in karate without question, all supported and bolstered by the bulwark of convention or lineage or rank. Of course, we practice all sorts of harmless conventions in the martial arts, from the karate <i>gi</i> to the formalities of <i>seiza</i> and bowing to the shrine and pictures of those teachers who have preceded us to the use of Japanese terminology and the practice of kata. But we also practice what I can only call conventional interpretations of kata technique. And these conventional interpretations (<i>bunkai</i>) get passed on with very little questioning of their practicality, as if we are hesitant to question anything that most everyone else seems to be doing.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTjyyTNe3CpYxm3u4quUW-Zc-cnem3Ryf0DX7H07S6viiCBMtQi9a-ptn99iwI1ge61lcq9ai9bEGmdsq2Rma6AfTW8UYVjor41W2vvu1ZgSrprHBMx0B35RKwQ6ElqYdCnbXAhQ/s1600/fullsizeoutput_d28.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTjyyTNe3CpYxm3u4quUW-Zc-cnem3Ryf0DX7H07S6viiCBMtQi9a-ptn99iwI1ge61lcq9ai9bEGmdsq2Rma6AfTW8UYVjor41W2vvu1ZgSrprHBMx0B35RKwQ6ElqYdCnbXAhQ/s200/fullsizeoutput_d28.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First technique of Seipai kata.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And these problematic inter-pretations are everywhere in Goju-ryu. For example: The opening technique of Saifa does<br />
<u>not</u> use both of the defender's hands to <u>pull</u> <u>away</u> from an attacker's wrist grab. Why disconnect from the attacker? The opening technique of Seiunchin kata does <u>not</u> use both hands to release the opponent's choke hold. Why would you step towards someone who was choking you? The opening technique of Sanseiru (after the three slow punches, that is) is <u>not</u> used in order to block an opponent's kick and then grab the kicking foot and muscle the attacker to the ground. Why would you lean forward with your head undefended as an attacker was coming at you and then even attempt to grab a kick? The opening technique of Seipai is <u>not</u> a <i>nukite</i> to the opponent's chest--it's not a <i>nukite</i> at all--nor an elaborate wrist release. Why would you even think of attacking a hard target with the finger tips? And why would you take the time to weave your hands in and out of the arms of an opponent grabbing you with both hands using the techniques that follow it, as the conventional interpretation shows? There is <u>no</u> response to a full-nelson in Kururunfa. Try it sometime against an uncooperative opponent who's bigger and stronger.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOcJvj5exIJMzrNOxz2zkmAz75klvfenYYNtUwyyIGZQcK_oGhaqrruX2q7Cyv-Xkc610_IwCWBJmjjQUg1t9Pv-Oi1L8pO2V42pSrhQ-TXbH8u5LjTrfJS6j4Ofo1IgrsOSL7hw/s1600/P1260213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1202" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOcJvj5exIJMzrNOxz2zkmAz75klvfenYYNtUwyyIGZQcK_oGhaqrruX2q7Cyv-Xkc610_IwCWBJmjjQUg1t9Pv-Oi1L8pO2V42pSrhQ-TXbH8u5LjTrfJS6j4Ofo1IgrsOSL7hw/s200/P1260213.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Convention suggests that this<br />
technique from Kururunfa is<br />
a release from a full-nelson.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
And yet these are all <u>conventional</u> interpretations of kata techniques. The problem is they don't make a whole lot of sense for a variety of reasons: they are too slow or they leave the defender open to attack or they don't really follow kata or they are easily thwarted by the opponent, etc. Their only reason for being is that they are the conventional interpretations, and conventions are rarely questioned.<br />
This is not to suggest that all conventions are useless or without merit. Clocks and calendars are very useful even if they are a somewhat arbitrary means of marking time. But conventional wisdom once suggested that the earth was flat, that there was witchcraft at work in Salem, that you'd catch your death if you walked around with wet feet. <br />
<br />
Most of the conventional interpretations of kata, I think, are, at the very least, useful in pointing out some of the pitfalls one may encounter with interpretations of kata, as ironic as that may be. And by example, they can steer us off into better directions, bushwhacking through the woods in search of a better trail.<br />
<br />
[For a more detailed discussion of these techniques see my book, The Kata and Bunkai of Goju-Ryu, <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/562446/the-kata-and-bunkai-of-goju-ryu-karate-by-giles-hopkins/9781623171995/">here</a>.]<br />
<br />
<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-69558021049443943072018-01-30T06:41:00.000-08:002018-01-30T06:41:07.510-08:00Rhythm and timing <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-EPFNEajETNozDu6dH8hOkckkLLL9shil9MkPs4buKw3ozqVQnQL3Mz1rU8YrYzNNazy7LEuqINV6nz-b4wxzemwesojtxfkBDo3gaSedmRPDRxwHlg0RerpTBdE8Efx0qFAYg/s1600/IMG_1102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW-EPFNEajETNozDu6dH8hOkckkLLL9shil9MkPs4buKw3ozqVQnQL3Mz1rU8YrYzNNazy7LEuqINV6nz-b4wxzemwesojtxfkBDo3gaSedmRPDRxwHlg0RerpTBdE8Efx0qFAYg/s200/IMG_1102.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
Deep into winter the weather has suddenly turned--a few days of above average temperatures--and I find myself thinking about fall and the changing seasons. The snow has melted, mostly, and out on the trails it looks as if it might be early spring or late autumn. No foliage, of course, but the leaves covering the forest floor make it look like another season, one not so still, as if the forest is holding its breath, everything waiting for the next nor'easter. Of course, winter will come back, but not today.<br />
<br />
Today, I can wander up familiar trails, with no ice pack to hinder my way or boggy, mud-covered patches to look out for. And, as I often do, I turn onto the Pines Edge Trail off the Boggy Meadow Road that leads up to a trail called the Middle Path. Very zen. Though I suspect the name really came from the fact that the trail runs all the way up the middle of the Fitzgerald Lake conservation area. It's actually one of my favorite trails here, not because of the name but because it's so varied. It passes through swampy areas and up over rocky hills, through patches of mountain laurel, and down through pine forests. I've encountered a large pileated woodpecker here, ducks, frogs, water snakes, and a host of chipmunks scurrying over the leaves and peering out from hollow tree trunks.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio_RychDjfYfKuc3v0vzeNFlVBImqbMxzFRslWALLxy3Px3T697qRKnfJ8u2kDNCNlEYOrgDm326GccsoOWEUdXy9uWF3MFyX-OFYmNGnqRnzfDc_7yn6DCwPSsAvU0-LWLnLCvQ/s1600/IMG_0947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio_RychDjfYfKuc3v0vzeNFlVBImqbMxzFRslWALLxy3Px3T697qRKnfJ8u2kDNCNlEYOrgDm326GccsoOWEUdXy9uWF3MFyX-OFYmNGnqRnzfDc_7yn6DCwPSsAvU0-LWLnLCvQ/s200/IMG_0947.JPG" width="200" /></a>A few months ago, I passed a large, bald-faced hornets nest hanging from a small sapling by the side of the trail. It looked like a giant Halloween mask. The hornets (Dolichiovespula maculate) were hard at work, carefully building the paper walls, spiraling outward, making it larger and larger. One could marvel at the effort--each one working for a few minutes before returning through one of the openings as another came out to continue the work. But I wondered who was overseeing this monumental effort. Was there a structural engineer? Did the hornets understand the dynamics of the situation, the stresses involved? What would happen in a torrential rainstorm? The nest already looked too big for the sapling where it hung.<br />
<br />
When I returned a week later, most of the nest lay on the ground. Only a few small scraps of the papery nest still clung to the sapling. And the hornets were nowhere to be seen.<br />
<br />
I don't know whether it's a romanticized notion of the natural world or not, but I tend to think that a tree knows innately what it needs to do in order to survive. That birds don't need to be taught where to get their food. Squirrels seem to know they need to amass enough nuts to make it through the winter months. Some people even think that the wooly bear caterpillar can predict how harsh the winter will be with its arrangement of black and brown stripes. I don't know, did some errant child take a stick to the hornets nest or did the hornets simply make a mistake, a miscalculation?<br />
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I was thinking of all this because it speaks to a kind of awareness of things, all things, that there's a rhythm to life, something like the seasons we experience in the world. And if you're not aware of it, it can get you into all sorts of trouble, or at the very least throw a monkey wrench into your plans.<br />
<br />
I was listening to an interview of Charlie Gabriel on the radio the other night. If you're not that familiar with him, he's a jazz clarinetist, but he also occasionally sings, and they played a version of him singing "<i>I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter.</i>" What struck me was his phrasing, his rhythm and timing. All the best jazz singers seem to have this incredible sense of timing, an awareness of the music and the other musicians they're playing with. Listening to Charlie Gabriel, it struck me that so much of life has to do with this sense of rhythm and timing. If you watch a game of soccer (futbol), you can sometimes, if the players are playing well, get a sense of the rhythm of the game. When you drive down the highway in heavy traffic, there's a rhythm to the flow. There's a rhythm to words and a rhythm and flow to walking down the street on a crowded sidewalk.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixYvIBkJhd__gQMZiaWhEOBJBemJnLMT130ie3cYPN1lenY20sI1ng1JeQ8bzxZEd8n3p19x8h_RAQwIsrCJ8ecc-MzsxVE90p-3U2JekaByTjwd-e2fDBznXR0hMafOVqU84ivw/s1600/IMG_1741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixYvIBkJhd__gQMZiaWhEOBJBemJnLMT130ie3cYPN1lenY20sI1ng1JeQ8bzxZEd8n3p19x8h_RAQwIsrCJ8ecc-MzsxVE90p-3U2JekaByTjwd-e2fDBznXR0hMafOVqU84ivw/s200/IMG_1741.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Receiving the opponent's punch<br />
from Saifa kata bunkai.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There's a rhythm to karate as well. And if you don't have the rhythm right or the timing, you're dead.You can watch kata sometimes and see dead, stagnant places, places where there's no flow. But you really notice it in doing <i>bunkai</i> with a partner or <i>ippon kumite</i> or <i>yakusoku kumite</i>. When you do it correctly, you meet the opponent in a sort of synthesis of movement, as if you are both a part of the same movement, just a movement that's a bit more complex than either would be by itself. There's no gap or dead space waiting to be filled, there's no starting and stopping. When it's right, it looks as if it's natural, as if it's the way it's supposed to be. The counterattack follows, without effort, in the wake of the block. The block begins almost as soon as the opponent's attack, and meets it before the attack has finished, so that the energy of the attack is dispelled and redirected.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijmEnNa0he3HEweUJgHX3_9Mc2kNnDgZns6GU6uLroaYtRa-tAHPUMR4UX4jl3lPonk9b6fkJZEcdkU6xu4AwniTSJwyr4vWPUUSSuEf_MAmqdEu6pzelCvHbMyUgR_JUu0H6pdA/s1600/IMG_2147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1196" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijmEnNa0he3HEweUJgHX3_9Mc2kNnDgZns6GU6uLroaYtRa-tAHPUMR4UX4jl3lPonk9b6fkJZEcdkU6xu4AwniTSJwyr4vWPUUSSuEf_MAmqdEu6pzelCvHbMyUgR_JUu0H6pdA/s200/IMG_2147.jpg" width="149" /></a>I don't really know how to describe this in words that don't make it all sound so needlessly cryptic and esoteric. It's just simply that there is a rhythm to both kata and <i>bunkai</i> that's important to be aware of. It reminds me of something that Toyama Zenshu sensei told me once many years ago in Okinawa. He was holding a piece of rice paper with Japanese calligraphy on it. It was a beautiful example of the art of Shodo. But then he turned it over--and of course you could still see the whole character quite clearly from the other side of the rice paper--just like kata, he said. Of course, that's a bit cryptic too, I suppose.<br />
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Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-61025238265063951242018-01-16T06:48:00.000-08:002018-02-08T16:14:30.116-08:00Book coming out...cross one more thing off the bucket list<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpseDmDweiggBROP8Mu_fpol8GEQhSVxLXs3u2mM5CJnmkKb5XL2vv2XrC4h4L-J9E2XTpKS0HAHdUq6hM2KXwfuLbp2NktPnB955xi287ZNnt2yZ1t-Qcb_B2A4tWjfbJpWHO9w/s1600/NAB_GojoRyu_mech_v1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1153" data-original-width="1600" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpseDmDweiggBROP8Mu_fpol8GEQhSVxLXs3u2mM5CJnmkKb5XL2vv2XrC4h4L-J9E2XTpKS0HAHdUq6hM2KXwfuLbp2NktPnB955xi287ZNnt2yZ1t-Qcb_B2A4tWjfbJpWHO9w/s320/NAB_GojoRyu_mech_v1.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<div>
This has gone through a lot of revisions, but it's finally at the printers. No more changes. <i>Wait...no, just one more thing</i>. Too late. I suppose that's the trouble with publishing anything; it locks it in, carved in stone. I know there are things I would revise even now, but it's taken almost two years already from when I began this book. </div>
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Of course, I've been writing about this stuff--Goju ryu kata and <i>bunkai</i>--since 2002, when I published an article on the techniques of Seipai kata in the erstwhile Journal of Asian Martial Arts. And the blog posts have been fairly regular for the past few years. But this book is an attempt to put it all in one place, to discuss some of the key points of kata analysis in a more systematic way in each of the classical Goju ryu kata, from Saifa to Suparinpei, and with some reminiscences of training with some great teachers as well, teachers like Matayoshi Shinpo, Kimo Wall, and Gibo Seiki senseis.</div>
<div>
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<div>
There are a lot of books out there that illustrate a couple of kata and then throw in a few examples of applications. Then they pad out the book with oft-repeated historical information or illustrations of generic karate techniques. I've done very little of that here--after all, history, in this case, seems to be half guess-work and rehashing generic applications seems a waste of time. This book, like each of my magazine articles and blog posts, is an attempt to get at the original intent of the techniques found in the Goju ryu kata, to point out themes and explain the structures of the various kata, to show how we might better analyze kata, and how we can come to see it as a system, to see it all fit together.</div>
<div>
<br />
What we so often see on the Internet, while wonderfully creative, can, in most cases, hardly be called realistic. And when it does seem viable, it does not follow the movements of kata and more often than not seems to ignore sound martial principles. Most of this is simply a repetition of conventional "wisdom," such as it is, and only seems to remind one of Miyagi Chojun's observation, reported by his student Genkai Nakaima in his "Memories of My Sensei": <span style="color: #2b1b08;">"Studying karate nowadays is like walking in the dark without a lantern."</span><span style="color: #2b1b08;"> </span>So my attempt is to offer students of karate something else. If I were merely repeating what others have done already, I wouldn't have bothered to write at all.<br />
<br />
I've hinted at a lot of these things in blog posts over the years, but I've generally been fairly guarded about giving away "secrets." This, however, is an attempt to be far more clear and specific, with pictures to illustrate key points and descriptions of the <i>bunkai</i> to be found in each of the Goju-ryu classical kata. </div>
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<div>
I'm hoping that others will read it, study it, understand the methods and principles, and that finally sharing this will help us all--me included--improve our practice and understanding of karate. North Atlantic Publishing and Blue Snake Books did a great job editing and laying out the book. It's fairly simple and straight forward, and in general pretty clear.</div>
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<div>
Anyway, it comes out the beginning of February, though you can order it now from Amazon or Barnes and Noble. Or you can get it here:<span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"><a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/562446/the-kata-and-bunkai-of-goju-ryu-karate-by-giles-hopkins/9781623171995/">https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/562446/the-kata-and-bunkai-of-goju-ryu-karate-by-giles-hopkins/9781623171995/</a></span></div>
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Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-40329115687129304462017-12-28T08:17:00.000-08:002017-12-28T08:17:57.379-08:00Seiunchin once again<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGFljOnJ14vljD6wLHB_CNjl1wzL-xmqvO5oUMsqu-eh-n0G4CO79HxXwcds_Sf0bwGefFCdayT9PcQxDMcBvJiFHaQWMrdKovNnoXxyc1I50ukYIw7WWolYodI2ZptUmNB4aqg/s1600/IMG_1088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGFljOnJ14vljD6wLHB_CNjl1wzL-xmqvO5oUMsqu-eh-n0G4CO79HxXwcds_Sf0bwGefFCdayT9PcQxDMcBvJiFHaQWMrdKovNnoXxyc1I50ukYIw7WWolYodI2ZptUmNB4aqg/s200/IMG_1088.JPG" width="150" /></a>Off in the woods the other day, admiring the mushrooms and toadstools that seemed to have sprung up overnight, and generally marveling at the magical quality of the woods after a rainstorm, I found myself thinking about a news story I had heard on the radio a few days earlier. The story summarized an article published in Nature about the supernova known as iPTF14hls. (Now there's a catchy name!) It's 500 million light-years away--astounding to me but that's not what the astronomers found so interesting. What was unusual, apparently, was that they expected it to act like any other supernova and gradually dim until it would fade from view--something that takes around 100 days for your average supernova. This one has exploded multiple times since 1954 and this current "explosion," if I understand it correctly, has lasted three years. What I thought was interesting, however, was that the scientists said that it defied their understanding of how stars die--that current theories couldn't fully explain what was happening. In other words, they'd have to go back to the drawing board. And that's why they sounded so excited!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrYsuvp6Av8LZhChzH53O1dOAu-Bziw8NWNe3w02JKeGm4T3wkrLU_IpuPug449mUIbFJ-pYQq_Yw83gWuHGGexcoMCP7196pnlkZ6MezZoGrDds1EG8gCHK1H4m4Zbaz-oKrpRw/s1600/IMG_0105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="686" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrYsuvp6Av8LZhChzH53O1dOAu-Bziw8NWNe3w02JKeGm4T3wkrLU_IpuPug449mUIbFJ-pYQq_Yw83gWuHGGexcoMCP7196pnlkZ6MezZoGrDds1EG8gCHK1H4m4Zbaz-oKrpRw/s200/IMG_0105.jpg" width="182" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gedan finishing technique for<br />
the four angle sequences.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I wonder how many people get that excited when they get it wrong? And why? Does it take a certain thirst for discovery or is it a simpler pleasure, a sort of pleasure in the realization that one doesn't have all the answers, that there are new frontiers, new things to learn? Or perhaps it's the moment we realize that the structure or the rules or what have you are more complex and intriguing than we first imagined.<br />
<br />
I was thinking about all of this while I was practicing Seiunchin. I like the movements of Seiunchin, but I thought that at least this kata was one that I felt fairly secure about, that I knew the <i>bunkai</i>. There are, after all, only five sequences in the kata (not counting repetitions). And it's fairly clear, I think, that the counterattacks (or receiving techniques, if you will) are all against either cross-hand grabs or two-handed pushes. Of course, if you don't see the sequences, then even this part won't make sense. But that's a whole other issue.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiD2XVBciFFHqShJDw_wHOMIEqoX5jEAvbZLIf0p5FXsFlx43va9YINOKSkZfTIAfWhbDGAogq7_DThRxWbrkrjMrFtrr6Zwead5nqs2eDDpmM0d7_NIrxcS2gbFeFAAydBb3FfA/s1600/IMG_0100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="741" data-original-width="675" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiD2XVBciFFHqShJDw_wHOMIEqoX5jEAvbZLIf0p5FXsFlx43va9YINOKSkZfTIAfWhbDGAogq7_DThRxWbrkrjMrFtrr6Zwead5nqs2eDDpmM0d7_NIrxcS2gbFeFAAydBb3FfA/s200/IMG_0100.jpg" width="181" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beginning of the second<br />
of the north-south sequences.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Anyway, I realized that I may have failed, after all these years, to notice something about the structure of the kata. If you understand the structure of a kata, it can explain a lot about the techniques themselves. The problem is that at least in some cases there may be a fair amount of guesswork, though just as in any scientific inquiry there are some things that indicate at the very least whether you're on the right track or not.<br />
<br />
But what I noticed was that the sequences on the angles--since this part of the kata is constructed in an "X" pattern, the angle sequences move to the northeast, the northwest, the southwest, and the southeast, in that order--all end with a downward forearm strike to the back of the opponent's neck. (This is the technique that is sometimes referred to as a <i>gedan barai</i> or <i>gedan uke</i>.) There are four of these angles but only two different sequences since each is repeated on both the right and left sides. What is of interest here is that the downward forearm strike to the back of the neck is a finishing technique, just as it is in Seipai kata.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMaK3sAIV9UyD_gH6QtB3U8ffCFBEe-mQE7NIEDzYyblXwIurR1VOrE1c4Hhz9Co8qe40BEJI3m284sHLhFbsAfoSfCBLlcatHln03lUpJZ64v6bfNO27w2bsdCR1OHs2dpzqqkg/s1600/IMG_0106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="778" data-original-width="656" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMaK3sAIV9UyD_gH6QtB3U8ffCFBEe-mQE7NIEDzYyblXwIurR1VOrE1c4Hhz9Co8qe40BEJI3m284sHLhFbsAfoSfCBLlcatHln03lUpJZ64v6bfNO27w2bsdCR1OHs2dpzqqkg/s200/IMG_0106.jpg" width="168" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beginning of the third<br />
of the north-south sequences.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The other three sequences of the kata all occur on the north-south axis. The first of these, of course, is the opening sequence, which is partially repeated three times, with the "finishing" technique tacked onto the third repetition--the left hand wrapped around the opponent's chin and the vertical right elbow attack coming up into the back of the opponent's neck. (I've written about this in an article in the <i>Journal of Asian Martial Arts</i>, 2005, vol. 14, no. 2.)<br />
<br />
The second of the north-south sequences is the high-low technique done in <i>shiko dachi</i> and shown on both the right and left sides. The second of these, with the right arm up and the left arm down, shows a right hand grab of the opponent's right arm and a left, low <i>nukite</i> attack to the opponent's ribs. This technique seems to finish with a right forearm attack and downward elbow (and one should emphasize <i>seems</i>).<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJFxVfNmrLjZKm4DNbsQkae_YT1XtC3i7drlG93Lv3rwAFbosP2pcy9mDbk7lcyqWlSSL66dCCQy11BPqwHiUD83fJW8NuzJBQSZ4uZkxzWFE68KfjyklOxzXhXzNuanyXOh4qOQ/s1600/IMG_0101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="782" data-original-width="659" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJFxVfNmrLjZKm4DNbsQkae_YT1XtC3i7drlG93Lv3rwAFbosP2pcy9mDbk7lcyqWlSSL66dCCQy11BPqwHiUD83fJW8NuzJBQSZ4uZkxzWFE68KfjyklOxzXhXzNuanyXOh4qOQ/s200/IMG_0101.jpg" width="168" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The technique that ends the<br />
second north-south sequence<br />
but seems less than satisfying<br />
as a finish technique.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The third and last of these north-south sequences is often described as two elbow attacks. (I've tried to explain this misunderstanding in my new book, <i>The Kata and Bunkai of Goju-Ryu</i>, due out in February 2018.) The finishing technique for this sequence is the knee attack to the head, the last technique of the kata, often described as a <i>yama uke</i> in cat stance (<i>neko ashi dachi</i>).<br />
<br />
But structure is everything. The structure or pattern of a kata is often the key to understanding the techniques--in this case, the sequences of the kata. I had always felt that the "finishing" techniques in the first two<br />
north-south sequences, while good, seemed less conclusive, less lethal, than many of the finishing techniques in the other classical kata or even in the third of these sequences, and this was what I was thinking a few weeks ago while I practiced Seiunchin. And then I realized that the two patterns of the kata--the "X" pattern of the angle sequences and the north-south line of the other three sequences--might show two different finishing techniques, but <u>only</u> two. The first one is the use of the downward forearm strike. The second is the knee kick to the head in cat stance. The supposition is that the "<i>yama uke</i>" and knee kick in cat stance--the last technique of the kata--is the finishing technique for <u>all</u> <u>three</u> of the north-south sequences, only it's just shown once, tacked onto the third sequence. This structure--of showing the finishing technique tacked onto the final repetition--is typical of the classical kata. It also makes the end of each sequence more lethal, finishing the sequence with a more decisive blow, if you will. And it fits. That is, it's easy to move into this final technique from the end of either of the first two north-south sequences.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJiyulPc6QYsO2WCc0tZiNay1HDi1bLq2rBejuh91TVmOwZXOzpp_M5i0tWfqdwf1ulJE8r0zYgJuqHHt9epN9jA6tzEokGjKCrfM5GNc20uH72lbjIgv76vQ-gWQaUVodWd9bQ/s1600/IMG_0109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="733" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJiyulPc6QYsO2WCc0tZiNay1HDi1bLq2rBejuh91TVmOwZXOzpp_M5i0tWfqdwf1ulJE8r0zYgJuqHHt9epN9jA6tzEokGjKCrfM5GNc20uH72lbjIgv76vQ-gWQaUVodWd9bQ/s200/IMG_0109.jpg" width="195" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The technique that may, in fact,<br />
be the finish technique for each<br />
of the north-south sequences.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I found this realization, though admittedly only an educated guess on my part, to be exciting, even if I had been wrong in how I had been thinking about Seiunchin all these years. Live and learn. I still don't know, however, whether it was the discovery that I found interesting or the realization that the structure of the kata was more complex than I originally thought, that whoever created this kata had been so clever at hiding something and yet keeping it right out there in plain view at the same time. It was all so fascinating. And, of course, it also reminds me that there is always so much more to learn.<br />
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<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-4613046752615317962017-12-12T08:15:00.001-08:002017-12-12T08:15:28.717-08:00It's a system, like the trees in the forest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYvTA0kArLe_ksiN6LMu6ZfkejtZSKC7ugEtzSBda5WM2P1oMOLzvirEVBud2piLNXwnbt-TAR4eIyXHlZARWPbHnS6yV_MTYBPYSQuofWwdEEnKvJlXGLqMq5VRQj5dMYHNmRw/s1600/IMG_1122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSYvTA0kArLe_ksiN6LMu6ZfkejtZSKC7ugEtzSBda5WM2P1oMOLzvirEVBud2piLNXwnbt-TAR4eIyXHlZARWPbHnS6yV_MTYBPYSQuofWwdEEnKvJlXGLqMq5VRQj5dMYHNmRw/s200/IMG_1122.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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The forest was wet today. Droplets of water collected in the leaves here and there, and the moss looked a bit brighter green after the rain we had overnight. But the temperature is dropping gradually, the days are getting shorter, and most of the trees are bare. It's hard to tell which trees are dead this time of year. The only thing that seems to be thriving is the lichen and small colonies of mushrooms clinging to the old tree trunks that lay rotting by the side of the trail. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHntVwg2_WZYdqWMtZMobCUnvLR8oJ7u5N88JAJoPp2QJc6iWjwVZYy5sOetOdfcH3NNOt-GJuuVuVU5Y2G8_nByYZeFLhsglKa3HARA2d-UcxT1ko76giH91rHtb4RKPJXyT1rA/s1600/IMG_2617.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="855" data-original-width="753" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHntVwg2_WZYdqWMtZMobCUnvLR8oJ7u5N88JAJoPp2QJc6iWjwVZYy5sOetOdfcH3NNOt-GJuuVuVU5Y2G8_nByYZeFLhsglKa3HARA2d-UcxT1ko76giH91rHtb4RKPJXyT1rA/s200/IMG_2617.jpg" width="175" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saifa kata</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc67ia3mlnelSOXGuO4jpJK-CGOGRXdab6nbKpwD4VkQXrOzUvvFaNGVQwJuC4L4UBX81aKwi-jTrsdG4skJ0OVr_YcgStWzIeLIm_UOcJNQVji_ae9eF4PxGQ0ykhMbta8Uxa6A/s1600/IMG_2618.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="911" data-original-width="734" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc67ia3mlnelSOXGuO4jpJK-CGOGRXdab6nbKpwD4VkQXrOzUvvFaNGVQwJuC4L4UBX81aKwi-jTrsdG4skJ0OVr_YcgStWzIeLIm_UOcJNQVji_ae9eF4PxGQ0ykhMbta8Uxa6A/s200/IMG_2618.jpg" width="160" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seipai kata</td></tr>
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When I'm out in the woods these days, I don't usually think of the forest as an eco-system, though I know it is. I know that when the larger trees fall, after a strong rain or a heavy storm with high winds, they leave a hole in the canopy overhead and the wild grasses, the ground cover, and the acorns lying buried beneath the leaves, some waiting patiently for years, will start to grow in the spring, reaching for the sunlight that's finally been able to make its way through the leaves of the taller trees. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8wcx3EbiCjhtW1bvFfQkZCB77B3ZsjI2YBjJC-Dd2NzNVb3TtkN9cWWZpAq0pjwHDMvAiASwRHMJ3rkL0kyjDxFcEkZnvqRRL_5-kQFwfX1f7dN47YSkS_GuecCAN-F4mhgwR4g/s1600/IMG_2615.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="911" data-original-width="754" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8wcx3EbiCjhtW1bvFfQkZCB77B3ZsjI2YBjJC-Dd2NzNVb3TtkN9cWWZpAq0pjwHDMvAiASwRHMJ3rkL0kyjDxFcEkZnvqRRL_5-kQFwfX1f7dN47YSkS_GuecCAN-F4mhgwR4g/s200/IMG_2615.jpg" width="165" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Suparinpei kata</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXv3wNBE0R38QYQpOZztf521WiWkVfguIMJ3UUnAefS-0wYj78o9gLtTnkiBSU-5W7Bad74uiJ9GMni3wSJb7LuBGZzeXLjFJ9dbmliRLvIiMUQu2J6Q0creS3p9akxuHUwlPi-Q/s1600/IMG_2614.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="915" data-original-width="753" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXv3wNBE0R38QYQpOZztf521WiWkVfguIMJ3UUnAefS-0wYj78o9gLtTnkiBSU-5W7Bad74uiJ9GMni3wSJb7LuBGZzeXLjFJ9dbmliRLvIiMUQu2J6Q0creS3p9akxuHUwlPi-Q/s200/IMG_2614.jpg" width="164" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seiunchin kata</td></tr>
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No, when I'm out walking in the woods these days, I'm just looking for the seemingly random beauty you can find when you go out "forest bathing." Nothing seems so systematic. Everything seems chaotic and haphazard. But, of course, it is a system, just like any martial art, despite what some may imply when they suggest that a style like Goju ryu, for example, is a random collection of kata that come from different sources andwere created by different people at different periods in the past. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAJeVrlwUNKkiHfmjEDz-ZcCifgJp6Imyg8s0CZaYyoyVzUaxWv4_T5FZt0L_mgms6NnE3FE71dJ6nxJNsigknSmDFCiJC210nFA1hDCEva0cZooeN6lVrEpGF6G_hME9KsdJUyA/s1600/IMG_2625.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="880" data-original-width="745" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAJeVrlwUNKkiHfmjEDz-ZcCifgJp6Imyg8s0CZaYyoyVzUaxWv4_T5FZt0L_mgms6NnE3FE71dJ6nxJNsigknSmDFCiJC210nFA1hDCEva0cZooeN6lVrEpGF6G_hME9KsdJUyA/s200/IMG_2625.jpg" width="168" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kururunfa kata</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbJPKxTL6ia1KJX0hCg1See9OXBKgi9_2R6a5j5VzUrWt6G7snWF1uiSAa5WMIDvMH5-9Zg8Vt6UmivVtopf7TGj2PWookc4Wq4J5dgrNiinG5XAjNuJj_YJwccmWVQxcNfhNA4Q/s1600/IMG_2627.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="896" data-original-width="749" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbJPKxTL6ia1KJX0hCg1See9OXBKgi9_2R6a5j5VzUrWt6G7snWF1uiSAa5WMIDvMH5-9Zg8Vt6UmivVtopf7TGj2PWookc4Wq4J5dgrNiinG5XAjNuJj_YJwccmWVQxcNfhNA4Q/s200/IMG_2627.jpg" width="166" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seipai kata</td></tr>
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While this may be true (and probably is given that the structure of the Goju classical subjects varies considerably), it does not change the fact that it's a system. The different kata show variations as if they were jazz compositions, as if different composers were given the same melody and told to improvise. One need only compare techniques from different kata to see the variations, to appreciate how different techniques explore similar themes. Certainly there are differences--any given self-defense scenario may vary depending on one's position in relationship to the attacker or, for that matter, what the initial attack is--but the apparent similarity of some techniques and the fact that they are used in a very similar manner (the application or <i>bunkai</i>) underscores the notion that they are all part of the same system, regardless of whether or not the different classical subjects may have had different origins.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOI9JiVDFNw1hV7zl0Q3l3gFgSqDAYyLehRlHaATqmC-HwhQ9R79tvr7fjo-WKS12LwbfmOr-EN_LC7vjGoKh0AIJJTOXNPXu3HVcwoSivK8EajCcCSqlmlpaa04ukfA5GR27xWw/s1600/IMG_2622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="884" data-original-width="753" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOI9JiVDFNw1hV7zl0Q3l3gFgSqDAYyLehRlHaATqmC-HwhQ9R79tvr7fjo-WKS12LwbfmOr-EN_LC7vjGoKh0AIJJTOXNPXu3HVcwoSivK8EajCcCSqlmlpaa04ukfA5GR27xWw/s200/IMG_2622.jpg" width="170" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sanseiru kata</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV2neFS-AzwBu3JEyFAW96Jbc_yIyl66h5PqeUz6HE9ahY-FsvgCMFgPp8U9GGOpkZn-nW3YaJn950Gub0WEWQKQSrbj6MyOG8bTPWBLlnL3Eha5BW9OM3h_rmB-WB3oIWQfs0og/s1600/IMG_2623.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="925" data-original-width="739" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV2neFS-AzwBu3JEyFAW96Jbc_yIyl66h5PqeUz6HE9ahY-FsvgCMFgPp8U9GGOpkZn-nW3YaJn950Gub0WEWQKQSrbj6MyOG8bTPWBLlnL3Eha5BW9OM3h_rmB-WB3oIWQfs0og/s200/IMG_2623.jpg" width="159" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shisochin kata</td></tr>
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The key here, of course, is to understand (or "see") the applications. You can't rely solely on the appearance of the techniques. This is admittedly a challenge. We have to first let go of our expectations, which may include not only what the technique <u>appears</u> to be, but also<br />
what we may have been <u>told</u>--in other words, the conventional interpretation of the techniques in question. The problem may be compounded by texts and pictures that seem to record "end" positions; that is, it's difficult to convey in pictures or words what happens in-between the pictures one generally sees in karate manuals or texts which discuss kata, and it's often in the space between one move and the next that we see how a given technique is applied.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOSpuOCtob2SeDKjOMppvybC69MCIE6-kXrg26fTrw6MnF_wTGvHi8HC5c4pek9BLD96moJevby4sy6is9pBFEIKiTX4sERkWiXeO8KadDKhxgX55sIs25qSXlaZLeP4Q8fH7eTA/s1600/IMG_2628.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="905" data-original-width="761" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOSpuOCtob2SeDKjOMppvybC69MCIE6-kXrg26fTrw6MnF_wTGvHi8HC5c4pek9BLD96moJevby4sy6is9pBFEIKiTX4sERkWiXeO8KadDKhxgX55sIs25qSXlaZLeP4Q8fH7eTA/s200/IMG_2628.jpg" width="168" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Saifa kata</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia53yaqGZHvzjCE1rEdkSjrhxKqKYSW28h_Q9clkwEg1P-0vabMXBsEiy_-VvCXmipUpmwFSQ1E2mu9TqYuCpyZPV0OMZRB5BkdiBuSJJUa0qifHFPmEAV3_dalnQFCNKCfTW5VA/s1600/IMG_2630.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="903" data-original-width="760" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia53yaqGZHvzjCE1rEdkSjrhxKqKYSW28h_Q9clkwEg1P-0vabMXBsEiy_-VvCXmipUpmwFSQ1E2mu9TqYuCpyZPV0OMZRB5BkdiBuSJJUa0qifHFPmEAV3_dalnQFCNKCfTW5VA/s200/IMG_2630.jpg" width="168" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seipai kata</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And you need the whole system. You need all eight classical kata in order to address different scenarios on the one hand and, on the other, to be able to see how to move from one technique in one kata to a similar technique in another kata if the dynamics of the situation change--and they are likely to change. That is, you need to see the similarities and variations in order to alter your counterattack. You may begin with the opening or receiving technique from Saifa (as pictured above), but you have to be able to change to the controlling or bridging technique from Seipai, for example (the bridging technique from Seipai being the technique which follows the Seipai opening technique pictured above). In other words, once you "see" the similarities and variations, you should be able to move back and forth between the techniques of each <u>sequence</u> of moves. This is the way a system works. Of course, you have to also be aware of the sequences. And if you can see the sequences, then you realize that the techniques within a sequence function in specific ways--that is, they can't just mean whatever you want them to mean.<br />
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Some have suggested that any single kata is a complete system of self-defense in itself. This is a rather silly notion, as is the idea that any given technique has multiple interpretations or applications. Either one of these notions gets in the way of "seeing" the whole system and being able to comfortably work within the system. Both of these views are short-sighted. Metaphorically, they're like being lost in the woods, failing to see the forest for the trees.<br />
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Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-22045916939254570852017-11-26T07:36:00.000-08:002017-11-26T07:36:36.862-08:00Things aren't always what they seem<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj057rWAV8JADrxFVsPLAYNNO5VZJwx1vO7vc2l5njSeLNDERde6qNQhjYt4byLXOpzBpS4okWM_qw0Knm5kQ14UuzJUJTfARod-ok6aya2HqfrjParQ5OSwU_wGWBwCJub2PrMQ/s1600/IMG_0971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj057rWAV8JADrxFVsPLAYNNO5VZJwx1vO7vc2l5njSeLNDERde6qNQhjYt4byLXOpzBpS4okWM_qw0Knm5kQ14UuzJUJTfARod-ok6aya2HqfrjParQ5OSwU_wGWBwCJub2PrMQ/s200/IMG_0971.JPG" width="150" /></a>The other day I decided to take a break and head out for a hike up Mt. Tom. I had spent most of the week ripping up the old mat in the dojo and laying down a new wood floor. The canvas cover I scrounged from an Aikido school years ago was old when I got it, but we needed something to cover the old wrestling mat that looked more like a patchwork quilt made of duct tape than anything else. Patching up the canvas cover had taken a few more rolls of duct tape the past few years, so it just seemed like the time to move back to a wood floor. I had gotten to the point where we had finished cutting and laying down the wood floor, so it seemed like a good time to take a break.<br />
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The woods were damp from the recent rains and the first yellow leaves were beginning to fall. A few trees had come down in the last storm, their roots not deep enough as they stretched out over the outcropping of rocks along the path. I was coming down the mountain on a path that wound its way around a small, rocky crag when I noticed a dog coming up the other way. He paused for a moment just in front of me, sniffing the ground, and as I stopped to pet him I looked ahead to see his owner leap wildly to the side of the path, jumping from one foot to the other, waving his arms frantically as if he were trying to escape a giant spider's web. After a moment he stopped and continued up the mountain. When he looked up, he must have noticed the quizzical look on my face. "Snake," he said. "I hate snakes." And then we both continued on the trail; he going up and me going down, but both of us, I'm sure, on the look out for more snakes hiding on the bare rock, hard to pick out amongst the meandering tree roots.<br />
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It reminded me of that sketch on Saturday Night Live with Bill Murray and Steve Martin. They stare<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQclZQGTgAtxvXrzRHaQ_wm4uUx83uXLNGbwZrStSdmjsTh4ThlfqxbEdo_3lfY0PISSldj29RfaVM0_f88oBSbbzJxs9WSCbUMI5cxqWCaTMML-zLDH_Cb_5CqJ7cAIf2lXyXng/s1600/IMG_1274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQclZQGTgAtxvXrzRHaQ_wm4uUx83uXLNGbwZrStSdmjsTh4ThlfqxbEdo_3lfY0PISSldj29RfaVM0_f88oBSbbzJxs9WSCbUMI5cxqWCaTMML-zLDH_Cb_5CqJ7cAIf2lXyXng/s200/IMG_1274.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Opening technique of Seiunchin.</td></tr>
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straight into the camera and just keep repeating, "What the hell is that!?" Maybe we just don't expect things or maybe things just aren't always what they seem to be. Kata is a lot like that. We see a move in kata and assume that it's one thing because it looks like that's what it ought to be. We think, well, it looks like a down block, so it must be a down block. It looks like a double punch so it must be a double punch.<br />
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What we're often missing, I think, is the Tristram Shandy effect, for lack of a better term. Tristram, the title character in <i>The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy</i>, an 18th century novel by Laurence Sterne, attributes all of his troubles to what happened the moment he was conceived. Just at the crucial point, his mother interrupts his father to ask if he has remembered to wind the hall clock. If I'm remembering it correctly--it's been many years since I last encountered it--the rest of the 500 or so pages of the story and it's hilarious sequence of events can all be attributed to this critical moment, this <i>momentus interruptus</i>, if you will.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Palm up technique from Seiunchin.</td></tr>
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Fiction, certainly, but there are connections that are important. Kata is composed of sequences that constitute self defense scenarios. And each sequence is composed of entry techniques (<i>uke</i>), bridging techniques, and finishing techniques. Too often teachers and students trying to find <i>bunkai</i> ignore the sequences, as if the techniques are disconnected and unrelated. I think this is why we don't see the right applications sometimes, why we judge things strictly on appearance rather than a technique's function within a given self defense sequence.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beginning of the end mawashi<br />
from Saifa.</td></tr>
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For example: we might look at the opening technique of Seiunchin and imagine that it must be a release from a two-handed grab or choke hold because both hands look the same--if they look the same, they must be doing the same thing. And the folks that interpret the opening of Seiunchin this way, imagine that the next technique--when the right palm is raised up and the left hand is brought up into chamber--is meant to block and grab the opponent's next punch. This is the disconnect between these two techniques of the sequence. Somehow the opponent must have pulled away from the previous technique in order to punch. But this interpretation works only in contradiction of the age-old martial principle of <i>ikken hissatsu </i>(one punch kill)<i> </i>or is it<i> ippon kumite </i>(one point fighting)<i>? </i>Perhaps it's all the same concept; that is, one should move in such a way as to allow your opponent only the one, initial attack--the one punch being your opponent's, not yours. (They get the initial attack, of course, because "there's no first attack in karate.") Or we might look at the opening technique of Sanseiru (after the three "punches") and imagine that it must be blocking and grabbing a kick because we're reaching down, knee level. Or we look at the end <i>mawashi</i> technique of Saifa and imagine that it's a ridge-hand strike, as many would say, simply because we don't see how it's connected to the previous sequence of moves.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Mt. Tom looking across<br />
the reservoir. </td></tr>
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It always makes me think of that old admonition about missing the forest for the trees. I suppose it's natural but it's also good to remember that things aren't always what they seem. (And no, it's not common knowledge, nor is it how everyone else looks at kata, no matter how much lip service we pay the old aphorisms we here in the dojo.)<br />
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<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-89777003728363661092017-11-08T12:09:00.000-08:002017-11-08T12:09:16.748-08:00Watching kata<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Training kobudo in Okinawa<br />
with Matayoshi sensei and<br />
students from UMass.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When I first started training Goju with Kimo Wall sensei, we trained in a fairly large room at the </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Univer -sity of Mass -achusetts Amherst. The room was probably 20 or 25 feet deep and 30 or 40 feet long, plenty of space, though there were often 50 or 60 of us lined up for training. The space was fine for warm ups and basics—we would generally line up one arm’s length apart, side to side, and a little more than the distance of a front kick, front to back—but it was a little tight if we were doing kata, particularly classical subjects. So we often took turns training. For example, black belts would divide into two groups; half the group would do a kata while the other half sat on the side and watched, and then the other half would do the same kata while the first group watched. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This was often the way people trained in Okinawa, Kimo sensei explained, because the dojos were generally much smaller than they are in America. But the real point, he said, was so that each person could watch and learn, not just from one’s seniors but also from one’s juniors. The idea was to have an opportunity to check oneself. If one saw a mistake in someone’s kata—perhaps the elbow hadn’t been kept down or the shoulders were raised or tense—one was supposed to use that opportunity to check one’s own technique. It was the teacher’s job to correct the student, but it was each student’s job to correct him or her self. This was, in fact, the way Kimo sensei taught; I never heard him correct an individual student’s mistakes in front of the class. He would always comment to the whole class. “Check your feet.” “Don’t forget to breathe.” “Elbows down,” he would say, even if he had noticed only one person making the mistake. And I would always check myself to see if he was talking about me, and thought everyone else did as well. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doing Sanchin in Gibo sensei's<br />
dojo in the '80s.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When we sat and observed kata, Sensei said, “first watch the feet, then the eyes, and then the hands.” Well, I thought, that’s pretty clear, but what am I watching for? Are we only watching for mistakes? If we already know the kata, what can we learn from watching someone else do it, aside from making sure that we didn’t make the same mistakes ourselves when it was our turn? I suppose in some cases, nothing. If all we’re looking for is mistakes, and we don’t see any, then there’s nothing to learn here. But perhaps it’s not really the movements themselves as much as the <u>movement</u>, how someone moves. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There’s a video I used to watch a lot of a guy doing T’ai Chi saber form on YouTube. His movement was so incredibly natural and fluid that it was hard to tell where one technique finished and the next one began. You couldn’t really see his intent or the moment when the muscles required for one movement gave way to the muscles required for the next movement. In some way it reminded me of something Picasso had reportedly said about painting, something to the effect of, “It took me four years to learn to paint like Raphael but a lifetime to draw like a child.” </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Practicing sanchin dachi<br />
and stepping with the log.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And yet natural movement, for lack of a better term, often seems to fly in the face of what we are led to believe is “good kata” from videos of winning tournament performances. What we usually see is kata performed with exaggeratedly large arm movements, techniques done with excessive dynamic tension, movements that are so fast that the use of the whole body is sacrificed, movements that are so slow that the functionality of the technique has disappeared entirely, and positions that are held (and seemingly admired) for so long that whatever practical use they may have had—particularly in relationship to the techniques that precede them and the ones that follow them—is forgotten. In fact, we seem to be forgetting the whole purpose of kata; that is, to preserve and practice self defense techniques.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I can remember when I first started to train Goju. I would go home and practice walking in <i>sanchin</i> <i>dachi</i>, focusing on balance and grounding and using a crescent step. It felt so unnatural but I was committed to practicing it until it felt good. Nowadays I try to make all of my movement natural, but it doesn’t look very much like the demonstration kata I see at tournaments. There’s very little locked down movement, labored breathing, rigid holding of postures. Some would no doubt say my kata is “sloppy.” Where are the punctuated, staccato movements? the dynamic tension? the deep stances? the loud breathing? the scowling look intended to intimidate the meek? But kata, it seems to me, is not a performance piece, and we’re not role playing. If anything—and if it’s even possible—we’re trying to demonstrate our understanding of kata applications, or <i>bunkai</i>, every time we do kata. That’s hard enough. Oh, and then trying to move naturally. You see, there it is again, Nature. It's always at the heart of things.</span></span><br />
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Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-2306396287873825472017-10-23T16:20:00.001-08:002017-10-23T16:20:59.887-08:00Watching the deer...and movement<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNpGC-tn_k7Kvu86WNxzdVM6ocxQKdUJopJUriJoSAht3eLa7aqu3ismWtK_qTow5ym4KCX2eWlZ_720kP1RwF6ZXpZXYMJ13tn5MvBPOrxO6_wQL3HH7_1h406OsOXd57SzuZ8w/s1600/IMG_1063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNpGC-tn_k7Kvu86WNxzdVM6ocxQKdUJopJUriJoSAht3eLa7aqu3ismWtK_qTow5ym4KCX2eWlZ_720kP1RwF6ZXpZXYMJ13tn5MvBPOrxO6_wQL3HH7_1h406OsOXd57SzuZ8w/s200/IMG_1063.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I was out hiking on the Lost Boulder Trail a while back, when I spotted a young deer standing stock still about fifty feet up the hill. It surprised me. I don’t know what had drawn my eyes away from the trail. Most of the time, I think, it’s the movements of deer in the woods that you pick up if you’re going to see them at all. From a distance their legs look like young saplings and their tawny coats seem to blend into the backdrop of dead leaves that blanket the hillside. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As I stood watching, trying to see if there was a family nearby, it sidled forward a few steps and began to nibble on a small mountain laurel, all the while keeping a wary eye on me. After a while, I moved on, heading down the trail which turned and dropped into a shallow gully, but the deer stayed there until I lost sight of it. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A young Great Horned<br />Owl watching me.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I think this was on my mind—the idea of movement—because I had recently been reading something Bernd Heinrich had written about owls. He had performed a sort of experiment with a friendly owl that had regularly come to roost on a branch above the clearing by his cabin in the Maine woods. At first, he threw a piece of meat on the ground beneath the tree, but the owl showed no interest in it. But when Heinrich attached a piece of thread to the meat and dragged it under the tree, the owl quickly dove for it and carried it off. Heinrich concluded that the owl responded to movement or, in other words, movement may have been a more important consideration for the owl than sight alone or smell. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Movement is such a nebulous thing to describe or put into words. I was watching a video the other day of a teacher trying to explain the movement of the waist, or <i>koshi</i>, in karate, as he slowly twisted his hips to one side and then quickly snapped them back. He did this repeatedly, snapping his hips back faster and faster. What I was wondering, though, was how a student construes this advice from this sort of demonstration, divorced as it is from technique. Might it give one the wrong impression about</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> how the waist is actually employed? That is, by isolating this use of the waist as an exercise, are we<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This technique from Shisochin kata<br />very obviously uses the waist.</td></tr>
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thereby giving students the impression that the waist is something that turns independent -ly of whatever technique is performed? I’ve seen students (and quite a few teachers) actually pull their hips back prior to thrusting it forward with an attack. They seem to be doing this as if it is a movement completely disconnected from the block or parry or whatever receiving technique that precedes it. It becomes a three-part movement: first the waist is twisted, pulling the hip back; then the hip is sharply thrust forward; and then the striking hand is quickly thrust forward. One, two, three. </span></span><div style="text-align: right;">
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There’s a disconnect here, I think. What usually happens in kata—where at least in Goju-ryu we find illustrations of application (what we call <i>bunkai</i>)—is that the waist turns naturally with the initial block or parrying motion of the body (the <i>uke</i> or receiving technique). There is a structure to this, usually, because we learn it in Sanchin kata and we incorporate that learned movement in everything, remembering the admonition that “the arms do not move independently of the body.” This, of course, is facilitated by the notion that the first (and certainly instinctual) response to an attack is to get out of the way. Even if we can’t easily step off line, the body turns to deflect the attack or present a smaller target. The simplest way to picture this is to imagine an opponent stepping in with a right punch. The<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The start of the fourth sequence in<br />Seipai kata.</td></tr>
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defender turns to block the attack with the left forearm to the outside of the opponent’s right arm. The defender’s waist has naturally turned away, leaving the left hip forward and the right hip pulled back or “loaded.” In the next instant, the defender thrusts forward with a right counterattack. In each case, for both the “block” and the attack, the waist and arm move together. I’ve found that, more often than not, when you try to teach students to use the waist, they will disconnect the waist from the arms and use the arms independently, as if the lower half of the body doesn’t know what the upper half is doing, and that seems like a lot of needless expenditure of energy. On the other hand, if all of this movement of the waist and the arms is done naturally and correctly, “blocking” and counterattacking takes very little effort. And, of course, this is greatly facilitated by the off-line stepping we see in kata, when, for example, the defender turns to block and counter, placing him or her self at a ninety degree angle to the attacker.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That seems like a rather long digression. I’m not sure what it has to do with deer standing quietly in the woods, not moving, unless it’s the notion that you probably won’t see much in the way of wasted movement when it comes to animals; they generally conserve their energy. We should too. Oh, that, and learning to move naturally.</span></span></div>
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Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-58587076375919338792017-10-09T15:41:00.000-08:002017-10-09T15:41:03.744-08:00On the dojo floor...what of traditions?<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiasmWSvlcKUkAMtLol4-0jx9izYV6LXtXmni6IDPhI-Ub8T6O3qhWXY5KebKC0JO2JGwDsH6pS4K4uFXn9w1kg_oxcRzXl7Nn0g2nARtpNH2Ockmv06qTmXqyOJ9_-3sCDdLcr5w/s1600/IMG_1008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiasmWSvlcKUkAMtLol4-0jx9izYV6LXtXmni6IDPhI-Ub8T6O3qhWXY5KebKC0JO2JGwDsH6pS4K4uFXn9w1kg_oxcRzXl7Nn0g2nARtpNH2Ockmv06qTmXqyOJ9_-3sCDdLcr5w/s200/IMG_1008.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New dojo floor.</td></tr>
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I put down a new floor in the dojo last week. We pulled up all of the old wrestling mat that we had inherited from the university and the old worn out canvas cover that I had finagled from one of the Aikido schools in town. I nailed down something like 450 square feet of southern yellow pine, sanded it, and then put a few coats of polyurethane on it, waited a few days and we were good to go. A couple of spots where the grain had come up in the sanding, but all in all it looks pretty good. The surprise came when I slipped off my training sneakers and did kata in bare feet. I haven't trained barefoot on a wooden floor in what seems like twenty years. And what with the cold weather setting in soon up here in New England, I will no doubt slip my sneakers back on for the winter.<br />
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But it reminded me, once again, of the traditions we practice, indeed take for granted, in the practice of karate. Slipping our shoes off, bowing to the shrine, all of the ritualized ceremony and language that becomes an accepted and integral part of training. Certainly in one sense, we are merely respectfully acknowledging the cultural traditions that gave rise to karate. But does the ritual and tradition overshadow the real martial intent of karate? I think it does for some. The "costumes" become more and more elaborate, festooned with colorful badges and elaborate embroidery of <i>kanji</i> characters that the average student (non-Japanese student) can't even read!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWuG4nZkVju6tJfYFz_L1Yv6RHbAJv2gR-RzF0sMeIb39ENwF8bjNNgjadW9sw0PPVtm2ZJbFXi7REeHE6e1tsv9O27FzDpK0AX3w8tv0uM43ywbizOaCFtLTSphxJlpjroxqxXQ/s1600/IMG_0398.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWuG4nZkVju6tJfYFz_L1Yv6RHbAJv2gR-RzF0sMeIb39ENwF8bjNNgjadW9sw0PPVtm2ZJbFXi7REeHE6e1tsv9O27FzDpK0AX3w8tv0uM43ywbizOaCFtLTSphxJlpjroxqxXQ/s200/IMG_0398.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hojo undo implements.</td></tr>
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For some others, who fashion themselves "traditional-ists," the ritual of karate training seems to be focused on <i>hojo undo</i> or supplemental exercises performed with various traditional Okinawan training implements to develop a strong karate body. Some practitioners seem to emphasize this sort of ritualized use of traditional <i>hojo undo</i> implements as if it too satisfies a spiritual need, scoffing at those who put too much emphasis on the study of <i>bunkai, </i>not merely the more modern adjuncts like competition <i>jiyu kumite</i> or the performance of kata for small plastic trophies.<br />
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It's confusing; I'm not even sure what tradition and ritual in karate even means anymore. That's why the wood of the dojo floor felt so strange to me, I suppose. I think the last time I trained with any regularity on a polished wood dojo floor was in Okinawa. I suppose it makes more sense to take one's shoes off and practice on a bare wood floor in a tropical climate than it does in New England. But I've also dispensed with the traditional karate uniform, the belt, and, aside from an admittedly though no less heart-felt but perfunctory bow to the shrine, all of the pre-training ritual. I light incense when I have it and can remember, but we don't address each other with titles--no <i>sensei</i>, no <i>sempai</i>, no "<i>osu</i>" or other use of Japanese when a simple English term would suffice. You won't hear "<i>Moku so</i>," "<i>Kiyotsuke</i>," "<i>Hajime</i>" here. Heretical perhaps but since there are only a few of us old guys--all seniors--the ritual seems a bit unnecessary. And as far as bare feet and wearing a karate <i>gi</i>...well, it's pretty cold in New England at least five months out of the year.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXKWQSxJAjurDt7DQKKEjSplq8ZO3mAEiUEosgmsybiN1vr1eywsEL6UQeRjEuZx2WKZPmAY2scsISYmd6dzlrXaF18x7YN-9TkZdLLLr4W5K2egcfwO0yrfmrKa6eogf7Abf6w/s1600/P1260120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1258" data-original-width="1600" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXKWQSxJAjurDt7DQKKEjSplq8ZO3mAEiUEosgmsybiN1vr1eywsEL6UQeRjEuZx2WKZPmAY2scsISYmd6dzlrXaF18x7YN-9TkZdLLLr4W5K2egcfwO0yrfmrKa6eogf7Abf6w/s200/P1260120.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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Or does the practice of ritual and tradition actually free us, in some sense, to experience karate in a more spiritual way? After all, the practice of kata itself is a kind of ritual. The movements are clearly defined and taught in a very formal manner, with little room for individual differences, and since for most, at least initially, there is little understanding of what the movements mean or how they may be used, there would seem to be little difference between those who practice karate and those engaged in some arcane religious ceremony. A ritual, by definition, is "a series of actions performed according to a prescribed order." Does it make it more or less spiritual if you don't know what the movements are for? After all, if you didn't visualize what you were doing--that is, if we didn't have any understanding of <i>bunkai</i> or application--then we might be more apt to enjoy the act of movement itself, sort of like yoga perhaps. In this case, I sometimes wonder if meaning doesn't get in the way, if understanding <i>bunkai</i> doesn't somehow detract from one's enjoyment of the simple act of movement and exercise, and, in the process, a more spiritual experience.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2SOnzf7IyTEDQpOHmoOLi9A2eYw5f4qy0aW8BYYFei0eDatZWru43zc9WkyIxHWUq2lu7PTIFl24cRvca7brvBs-ybZ42btIuftrXokD4crHQicLE67oN5Lk5YCThoqWJ7hmH2A/s1600/Barn+dojo+w+mat+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1422" data-original-width="1273" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2SOnzf7IyTEDQpOHmoOLi9A2eYw5f4qy0aW8BYYFei0eDatZWru43zc9WkyIxHWUq2lu7PTIFl24cRvca7brvBs-ybZ42btIuftrXokD4crHQicLE67oN5Lk5YCThoqWJ7hmH2A/s200/Barn+dojo+w+mat+005.jpg" width="178" /></a>And yet I wonder if all of this is not a modern overlay, something fashioned fairly recently and tacked onto what was once only a brutally efficient method of self defense. And kata? Merely a record of martial applications and fighting principles preserved in kata form for an ancient population that was largely illiterate.<br />
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And yet...there is something about slipping off one's shoes and stepping on the dojo floor, bowing to the shrine, all of the old teachers looking on, the incense burning, and beginning kata. Just kata. Kata for its own sake.<br />
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<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-21066833634273996032017-09-22T06:55:00.001-08:002017-09-22T06:55:26.072-08:00When a tree falls in the forest...and other thoughts on bunkai.<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A single leaf at the end of<br />
a new shoot.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If a tree falls in the forest and there’s no one there to hear it….does it really matter? It will lead to all sorts of unexpected outcomes. The tree will fall. There will be an opening in the canopy overhead. Sunlight will reach the forest floor where it hadn’t, where it had been shady for years. A small seedling will begin to sprout or an acorn lying dormant under a blanket of leaves will feel the sun. The next thing you know, there will be little twig-sized slips of oak or maple or aspen, two over-sized leaves on a slender stick the size of a toothpick. Of course, the grass takes over first, it seems, followed by the weeds and the ground creepers, but the trees are there--a balsam fir or a white pine or a spruce. They each send up these little, central shoots with a more or less symmetrical arrangement of branches. It begins with a cluster of buds at the tip of the shoot. The central bud becomes the trunk of the new tree and the buds that surround it grow laterally into branches. And each year's growth follows the same pattern, unless the deer come and nibble off the buds or the central bud gets damaged somehow. If it does, the tree is programmed in such a way that one of the lateral buds that had been destined to become a branch takes over the role of the central bud and becomes the trunk. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQn-Z4Blm5rPnbmg-psiP-CsvsnN4vVRe40YtG-nU0dNZPYARVmFYqSKk6MkLA5eQkNEw1mooHo8imGSMGrvP3m_yA1tx2XmVfde5_lgF-ejJMSyMPNDPBwRUe4M2KKlZMhlaEDQ/s1600/P1260204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1213" data-original-width="1600" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQn-Z4Blm5rPnbmg-psiP-CsvsnN4vVRe40YtG-nU0dNZPYARVmFYqSKk6MkLA5eQkNEw1mooHo8imGSMGrvP3m_yA1tx2XmVfde5_lgF-ejJMSyMPNDPBwRUe4M2KKlZMhlaEDQ/s200/P1260204.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First entry or receiving technique<br />
from Kururunfa kata.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I've been reading a lot of Bernd Heinrich lately. </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">He writes about birds and trees and running, among other things. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I hope I'm not over-simplifying what he says about trees too much, but it's this changing aspect of the new tree that got me thinking about its relationship to the martial arts as I was out in the woods the other day. We approach the study of kata as if it's something sacrosanct, a ritualized performance piece. And yet we look at <i>bunkai</i> as if the movements are so fluid and dynamic that they supposedly have countless ways of interpreting or applying them. This point of view is, in fact, so widespread that it almost seems as though it has fostered the growth of a whole new industry based on seminars and the discovery of new and ever-more-outlandish applications. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVVMFu8ZkS3wVDYJGNeNZwCk8cxVHUscgUZgXKu4Y9Q8-lV0IOkpIQPkIzzgxVSSfnYVWC84hfK7fsJUumsNPCGza3_FuVe2npaOSnNZnDlZ1eV3WDdGgzXO2xBxj3FEHCWcOdaQ/s1600/P1260117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVVMFu8ZkS3wVDYJGNeNZwCk8cxVHUscgUZgXKu4Y9Q8-lV0IOkpIQPkIzzgxVSSfnYVWC84hfK7fsJUumsNPCGza3_FuVe2npaOSnNZnDlZ1eV3WDdGgzXO2xBxj3FEHCWcOdaQ/s200/P1260117.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Initial technique from Seipai kata.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So I would suggest that it may be time to simplify things a bit. We could start with a simple statement about the structure of a kata. Kata are composed of different kinds of techniques--entry or receiving techniques, bridging or controlling techniques, and finishing techniques. Each entry technique is part of a sequence, </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">but because of the exigencies of any given situation—how the attacker responds to the initial block or receiving technique, one's balance, the strength of the opponent—you may need to change things up at some point, sort of like the new shoot when a deer comes along and nibbles off the central bud.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sliding down the back of the arm<br />
and grabbing the head.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For example, if you respond to an attack with the opening receiving technique from Kururunfa, something unforeseen could happen that causes you to change the sequence and instead continue with the initial technique </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">from Seipai kata. That is, from the forearm attack to the neck in the initial technique of Kururunfa, you might straighten out the right arm, pushing the attacker's head down. Then, you might continue with the first sequence of Seipai by stepping </span>through with the left palm-attack to the chin, going on to twist the head. Or, alternatively, from the initial Kururunfa technique, you might drop the right arm down along the back of the opponent's right arm to move behind him, as we do in Seisan. <span style="font-family: inherit;">Once you’re to the back of the opponent, you could continue with this sequence from Seisan, grabbing the back of the head with the left hand and stepping in to grab the chin with the right hand. Or, you could simply grab the opponent’s trapezius muscles from the back and pull him down onto the front knee, as we do in Saifa kata.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhrwopqjbFXezPDhd6B1biDYLGcK7aGW2A1idmlPyPloVZnKSBdCGhP9mrJzirGV5e4q1BMahH79DUfExL6hul-Th6DWZQM9ZUtEb3cvU2xstEj61_5f5aWy8LoD2PDdJ-e6LXA/s1600/P1260007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhrwopqjbFXezPDhd6B1biDYLGcK7aGW2A1idmlPyPloVZnKSBdCGhP9mrJzirGV5e4q1BMahH79DUfExL6hul-Th6DWZQM9ZUtEb3cvU2xstEj61_5f5aWy8LoD2PDdJ-e6LXA/s200/P1260007.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pulling down by grabbing the<br />
trapezius muscles in Saifa.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Kata itself is a repository of technique, and each technique functions differently. </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">But once we understand this, we can take them apart and put them together in different ways, all depending on what happens in any given situation. In that sense, the system of self defense we know as Goju-Ryu becomes both smaller </span>and<span style="font-family: inherit;"> larger at the same time. It is smaller because it becomes more manageable--there are, for instance, a finite number of receiving techniques and the same might be said of the bridging and finishing techniques as well. In other words, one doesn't need to become a master of what at one time must have seemed like an encyclopedic number of techniques. But it is also larger because if we truly understand the system and its kata then we can see an almost infinite number of ways that the individual techniques can be taken apart and put back together. That is, the entry technique from one kata might be combined with the bridging technique of another kata and the finishing technique of yet another kata. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So what if a tree falls in the forest. Stuff happens. Another tree will come along and take its place.</span><br />
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
</div>
Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-8575612930186814012017-09-03T08:47:00.001-08:002017-09-03T08:47:40.644-08:00Footfalls in the woods and Suparinpei<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQnahQ4KGCiLU2QNOxE4GKVlyc5wPvSgU6M-DMm6_RXRgITAlSKS1Luq2PlrIDf2CVgBqQnSw27JB5cGd151BhPkZWdtmsSGDbSX1UOZf_TDbBNmDWD1gab80akE59PoXZNa3-mg/s1600/IMG_0940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQnahQ4KGCiLU2QNOxE4GKVlyc5wPvSgU6M-DMm6_RXRgITAlSKS1Luq2PlrIDf2CVgBqQnSw27JB5cGd151BhPkZWdtmsSGDbSX1UOZf_TDbBNmDWD1gab80akE59PoXZNa3-mg/s200/IMG_0940.JPG" width="200" /></a>I was off in the woods a few weeks ago, swatting at black flies and being careful to avoid the poison ivy and the long blades of grass that reached out over the trail, affording ticks an ideal jumping off place from which to latch onto unwary travelers. It was hot--95 degrees F. (35 degrees C.), but the heat index had it at 103 degrees F. Even the birds seemed to be silenced by the heat. Most of the time, all I could hear was the quiet plodding of my own feet as I walked along a trail covered in the remains of last fall's leaves. This was certainly not the "road less travelled." I was following in the footsteps of countless numbers of other hikers who had passed this way. Sometimes I could see the evidence: an upturned rock or the imprint of a boot heel that had sunk unexpectedly in the mud. The trail was wide enough that I could probably have followed it at night, which made me think of that quote by Miyagi Chojun sensei. Not that Miyagi sensei had said it in any of his own writings, but it appears in <span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><i>Memories of My Sensei, Chojun Miyagi, </i>where Miyagi </span><span style="text-align: center;">supposedly tells Nakaima that </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Studying karate nowadays is like walking in the dark without a </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">lantern.” Of course, nowadays we have battery-powered headlamps, though I doubt if it makes much difference in our understanding of karate.</span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIhF8FaVV00eM1SvN8WQ1YzbuSe8eCS1P2r4s8CBsgUzLh0NVHG1hfSftJxPwNlk4QVcJGxjjwzWPmPQOPO0AVM-0GHbZkvGxOvo1IPd4sQjaBF8Knst3rnEt05uYo0t0Tb1k1Mw/s1600/IMG_0168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIhF8FaVV00eM1SvN8WQ1YzbuSe8eCS1P2r4s8CBsgUzLh0NVHG1hfSftJxPwNlk4QVcJGxjjwzWPmPQOPO0AVM-0GHbZkvGxOvo1IPd4sQjaBF8Knst3rnEt05uYo0t0Tb1k1Mw/s200/IMG_0168.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="150" /></a>
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And yet the trail is wide enough. We would be hard pressed to lose sight of the path--so many <i>karate-ka</i> have walked this way before. What gives me pause, however, are the contradictions in the metaphor: generations of <i>karate-ka</i> practicing diligently, trudging along this well-worn path<i> in the dark.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I was watching a video the other day. It was originally posted a year ago, but, after taking a seminar, someone had reposted it on Facebook. It had to do with the</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">bunkai</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> to the last technique in Suparinpei, the last kata of Goju-ryu and, at least in some symbolic way, the ultimate technique of the system. And, to many, </span>I suppose,<span style="font-family: inherit;"> i</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">t must seem so esoterically enigmatic. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This was a short video but it was by a very well-known karate researcher--a teacher who has written many books on the history of Okinawan karate, and so must have carried with it some weight of </span>legitimacy, some knowledge of "Okinawan karate secrets."</div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The starting position had the teacher with his back to the attacker, who had grabbed him by the shoulders with both hands</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">. From there, he showed the response of the defender, which began with a slight shifting rotation of the body to the right which, the teacher said, would provoke a stiff right arm response from the attacker. At this point, he lunges forward and, looking back at the attacker, does "the distraction," a slapping technique with the back of the left hand aimed at the attacker's groin. At the same time, he head butts the attacker and then slides his head between the attacker's arms--who, in the meantime, has not altered his position or grip on the defender's shoulders--and, with his head now coming up on the outside of the attacker's arms, he brings his left forearm down "hard" on the "brachioradialis" before the opponent even "thinks about a choke." Next he attacks with a right <i>nukite</i> into the opponent's throat. At the same time, he wraps his left arm around the attacker's right arm at the elbow, as his right arm grabs hold of the attacker's lapel. Then, dropping down into horse stance, he tightens the restrictions on the opponent's right arm/shoulder and, with the right wrist, the attacker's neck, until the attacker submits.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibCc95E-dNmu9gb9NLUHrp7MmbZ_1FrpHLqCv_-31BkKwyPntHzzQc8czReYIDdcDb5e7x0pB9y5fbR9BNKWGCE7Jf666KG4pWoAWfrArEOhuc-coZ-X3gMFzekYYvsmsTuv7tvA/s1600/P1260257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibCc95E-dNmu9gb9NLUHrp7MmbZ_1FrpHLqCv_-31BkKwyPntHzzQc8czReYIDdcDb5e7x0pB9y5fbR9BNKWGCE7Jf666KG4pWoAWfrArEOhuc-coZ-X3gMFzekYYvsmsTuv7tvA/s200/P1260257.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entry technique.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So what's wrong with that? It works in the dojo. And it's wonderfully imaginative. But does it look like kata? I mean, doesn't kata face south and then turn to the north? Does it take too long? It certainly takes too long to describe. Is it realistic? That is, why would you ever think of sliding your head between the attacker's arms? Does this sort of bobbing movement occur in the performance of the kata? </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Why doesn't the attacker move or alter his position? Does it require the attacker, an unpredictable component of the equation, to conform too readily to the defender's expectations; that is, does the attacker have to behave too predictably? </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Does it fail to take into account the entry and controlling techniques that precede these movements in kata? Or is this just one possible explanation for these techniques in Suparinpei? And if it's just one of many possible explanations for these techniques, is that simply a confirmation that we are indeed still stumbling along the road "in the dark without a lantern?" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUWd3R5n8Psb_LC4QrCU2JJ3u4eX0yxsP8W2OaBibfCiO5JZQ-k8AnPoZOUBDE1DZ08snalYwY59XQdiQhAn_Oc-0crysQqi4q55cpsy27OPSrz7LEaOpYsDwvzfnZUlAgq8NywA/s1600/P1260261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUWd3R5n8Psb_LC4QrCU2JJ3u4eX0yxsP8W2OaBibfCiO5JZQ-k8AnPoZOUBDE1DZ08snalYwY59XQdiQhAn_Oc-0crysQqi4q55cpsy27OPSrz7LEaOpYsDwvzfnZUlAgq8NywA/s200/P1260261.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Controlling technique.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Or is it more likely that this ending sequence to Suparinpei borrows both from Seisan and Sanseiru, and that the explanation of the techniques, the analysis or <i>bunkai</i>, simply shows a variation of how the same techniques are applied in each of those other kata? The <u>entry</u> techniques are shown over and over again in the three complete <i>bunkai</i> sequences of Seisan kata: a sweeping, semi-circular right arm block, while stepping 90 degrees off-line into a left-foot-forward front stance, followed by a left straight-arm palm strike to the side of the face. We see the same entry technique here in Suparinpei. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">The straight-arm "</span><i style="font-family: inherit;">nukite</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">" in Suparinpei is akin to the straight punch at the end of Seisan kata. Then the turn into what is called here the "dog posture," the last posture of Suparinpei, in horse stance with arms bent and both wrists up and fingers pointing down, shows a variation of the same position at the end of Sanseiru, though the stepping is a little different.</span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9IUb8Xti1zmnLP_mz5ijlOLkdPfwU58vUFbnRLLbkHUnsT0U5I5WX48p-diH-8g6sEqgXfVTFoyAZvS6_d9wLZNEQQ2Ov2wru_Ya_QPRVWOLof-XEKEojUrsBo7oCXILNnVKZ3g/s1600/P1260262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1600" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9IUb8Xti1zmnLP_mz5ijlOLkdPfwU58vUFbnRLLbkHUnsT0U5I5WX48p-diH-8g6sEqgXfVTFoyAZvS6_d9wLZNEQQ2Ov2wru_Ya_QPRVWOLof-XEKEojUrsBo7oCXILNnVKZ3g/s200/P1260262.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finishing technique.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In one sense at least, I wonder about the realism of techniques that look as if they would only work in the dojo with a compliant partner, the fanciful creations of individuals whose interpretations don't seem to be grounded in sound martial principles. Such inventions--because we are all supposedly "walking in the dark without a lantern"--confuse legitimacy with creativity; we look at these interpretations with a mixture of confusion and awe, and think, "Gee, I never thought of that." But </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">a</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">re all</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> creative interpretations equally valid? Is that the point of kata, to foster creativity? I am certainly not trying to denigrate any of these instructors, nor disparage their interpretations, if that's what kata is. But it seems to me that even if we consider it "art," we don't have license to interpret it any way we want. The idea, it seems to me, is not to impose meaning on what seems to be random and arbitrary, but to discover what the artist--in this case the creator of a kata--is trying to communicate.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Even theory in science, for example, is not simply invention</span>; it's based on an understanding of the underlying principles. Have we forgotten what we learned of the scientific method in middle school? We seem to be living in an age where science has been shouldered aside, where skepticism seems to be leveled at scientific inquiry and tabloid journalism has become the norm. Perhaps that's part of the problem. Who are we following on this proverbial path through the woods? Or is everyone simply striking out on their own? Seems as though there should be some sign posts along the way--the martial principles that all too often seem to be ignored. Is this why we are all still stumbling along without lanterns to light the way?<br />
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Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-47576755346863386082017-08-15T06:56:00.001-08:002017-08-15T06:56:32.184-08:00Does nobody ask why?<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; line-height: normal;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxJxO4EPbxYeU3xaCEBJUDIdUZakm35X1TBMWVW7UsNqecXpYvGB5SQ493MOYBh9bzDTF7RqfHSmjM-keNdkIZGtFt8GFZuIXpo2IkO3QLSkAg_DMpZRqBTrezAGE8e-X69yXkDg/s1600/IMG_0445.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: -webkit-standard; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxJxO4EPbxYeU3xaCEBJUDIdUZakm35X1TBMWVW7UsNqecXpYvGB5SQ493MOYBh9bzDTF7RqfHSmjM-keNdkIZGtFt8GFZuIXpo2IkO3QLSkAg_DMpZRqBTrezAGE8e-X69yXkDg/s200/IMG_0445.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;">It was early Spring and the woods were wet. It had rained pretty steadily for two days. And before that it had been cloudy and drizzling more often than not. The path along the swamp was flooded over and every dip in the trail was damp from slowly drying puddles of standing water. But plants were starting to sprout. In places, ferns and broad-leaf marsh plants hid the rocks and threatened to obscure the trail. Small, delicate looking wild flowers sprang up in places where the sun managed to get through the canopy of new leaves overhead. It reminded me of that part in Robert Fulghum's book, </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(71, 71, 71); color: #474747;"><i>All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten</i>, where he says: "Remember the little seed in the Styrofoam cup. The roots go down and the plant goes up, and nobody really knows how or why...."</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(71, 71, 71); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #474747; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><br />
</span><span style="font-kerning: none;">But then I thought, really? Really nobody knows how or why plants send their roots down into the</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">soil and the plant slowly pushes up through the forest floor? Really? Maybe Fulghum was not looking for a scientific explanation. Maybe it was a sort of rhetorical question--even though it seemed to be a statement--some sort of ontological inquiry and the little plants were only meant to be stand-ins. Inquiring minds want to know.</span></span></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(71, 71, 71); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #474747; line-height: normal;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-yj_ZYhDvXsCE38cjYLKSSuYCGO2sK4CMfBT0iKe43nbZOY6Im0GHU5uaR94pjIXC1aaGmJNPjCbNvzzYxW8CLFDFpCWklLnprPexhyphenhyphenp6Qix5r_NlntRZrufeDn8seQZH4cVwg/s1600/IMG_1240.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-yj_ZYhDvXsCE38cjYLKSSuYCGO2sK4CMfBT0iKe43nbZOY6Im0GHU5uaR94pjIXC1aaGmJNPjCbNvzzYxW8CLFDFpCWklLnprPexhyphenhyphenp6Qix5r_NlntRZrufeDn8seQZH4cVwg/s200/IMG_1240.JPG" width="200" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The slow "punch" from the beginning</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">of Sanseiru kata.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; -webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="font-kerning: none;">I thought of this because I was watching a video the other day on the Goju Ryu kata Sanseiru and its <i>bunkai</i>, or at least what was purported to be <i>bunkai</i>. I always thought that <i>bunkai</i> was "the analysis of kata" and therefore had to follow the movements and techniques of the kata. So you can't change the kata movements, it seems to me, when you're trying to explain how they are used. And yet, here was a well-respected teacher of Okinawa Goju-ryu demonstrating his "<i>bunkai</i>" or explanation of the three slow punches at the beginning of the kata, only in his application the punches were not slow at all but fast <i>chudan</i> punches to the opponent's ribs. And the open hand technique that follows the third punch was used to check the opponent's chambered punch--blocking the opponent's chambered fist with the extended palm before he even thinks of punching! And this was followed by a fast punch (though in kata there is no punch of any kind after this open hand!).</span></span></div>
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Does no one ever ask why the punches at the beginning of Sanseiru are done slowly and the punches at the beginning of Seisan are fast? If the techniques are done differently in kata--slow in Sanseiru and fast in Seisan--shouldn't the explanation of their application be different as well? Is it possible that the "punches" in Sanseiru are not meant to be punches at all? (And while we're at it, what about the double-arm posture? Is this a hold over from the days of the Marquis de Queensbury or is there a message here?) Sometimes I feel like I'm in Bizarro World waiting for Superman to come straighten everything out.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The first technique in Seiunchin kata.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Years ago now, I came across an explanation (read "<i>bunkai"</i>) of the first technique in Seiunchin where </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">the defender was stepping back, using both hands to release the attacker's choke hold. The teacher explained that the kata steps forward on a more-or-less 45-degree angle but in application one is meant to step back. I found this particularly confusing. Does that mean that the kata is showing everything in reverse, opposite to what the defender is supposed to do in application?! Rather than searching for some ridiculous rationalization for an interpretation, shouldn't we be questioning the interpretation? Instead of trying to justify things that don't make a whole lot of sense in the first place, shouldn't we simply follow the kata and, in the case of Seiunchin for example, ask what could be happening if the kata is telling us to step forward along a 45-degree angle? (Obviously not a release from a chokehold!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There is a lot of mystery in the world. There are also things that we just plain don't know yet. But there's also a lot that we can figure out. A good deal of it is just plain logical. After all, the roots go down and the plant grows up...and the wheels on the bus go round and round. Just follow the kata.</span></span></div>
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Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-69498054266550235492017-07-30T15:58:00.002-08:002017-07-30T15:58:59.552-08:00Who says so? Understanding kata technique in context<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7XJ5Rk54qJlZA-LQvaxxgHrLxAoM28V6PKQQWnkU-hte4LFYu8J_s5Wl9uEgoRGL1XfLuZh-Sg4BkdQa53y-2vFOXLnxtQq6ppjR-tHIj9YR9m19pE0XrSsg_RFJLXJJAk4NIDA/s1600/IMG_1242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7XJ5Rk54qJlZA-LQvaxxgHrLxAoM28V6PKQQWnkU-hte4LFYu8J_s5Wl9uEgoRGL1XfLuZh-Sg4BkdQa53y-2vFOXLnxtQq6ppjR-tHIj9YR9m19pE0XrSsg_RFJLXJJAk4NIDA/s200/IMG_1242.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The final position of the<br />
mawashi-like technique.</td></tr>
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I was watching a video the other day of a guy explaining three ways to use a <i>mawashi uke</i> or <i>tora</i> <i>guchi</i>--can't remember whether he distinguished between the two or not. But anyway, I was a bit surprised, since I believe that the style he practices is Shotokan, though I suspect his interests are more widespread since he calls himself a "karate nerd." Now when I was young, I practiced a Tae Kwon Do style that was based on Shotokan--same forms and all. In fact, I think the Korean teachers had practiced Shotokan during the Japanese occupation of Korea way back in the early part of the twentieth century. But I also trained a year of Shotokan in England back in 1976-77. And in all that time, I don't remember ever doing a single <i>mawashi uke</i> or even anything that remotely resembled one. So I'm thinking, how can this guy presume to explain the function of a <i>mawashi uke</i>? And the guy's YouTube video had over 29,000 views!<br />
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But I've seen this happen over and over again; that is, people whose primary style is something other than Goju trying to explain the applications of Goju kata. It seems to me, however, that if you can divorce the technique from the kata--and there are frequently disclaimers stating that the kata under analysis is not one that they personally practice--then the technique can mean anything...or nothing. You have taken it out of context. It's like trying to define a word without seeing the sentence or even the paragraph it is used in. That's why crossword puzzles are often so hard; the words are not always given a context. Context changes meaning or more precisely, I suppose, actually determines meaning. Dr. Johnson, that particularly idiosyncratic lexicographer who gave us the first dictionary of the English language, set about first defining words by making note of how they were used in the books that he read. Unlike a word, however, a solo technique--like <i>mawashi uke</i>, in this case--could literally mean anything you want it to mean, out of context. After all, you're just waving your arms.<br />
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I suspect that this teacher is simply providing three conventional applications for <i>mawashi uke</i> that he learned from a Goju teacher or practitioner. In fact, they are pretty standard interpretations. One <i>mawashi uke</i> trapped the arm and then attacked the opponent's trunk and head with two palm strikes. The second example he illustrated was used against two punches, one after the other, and then he attacked the same way with the two palm strikes. And the third <i>mawashi uke</i> began with a same-side wrist grab, broke the grab, and then was used to apply an arm-bar against the opponent's elbow.<br />
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So the question is: Could the <i>mawashi uke</i> technique be used this way--that is, in any or all of these ways? It's really a question of grammar or, more properly, verb tense. <u>Could</u> one use a <i>mawashi uke</i> to block and then attack with palm strikes? <u>Could</u> one use a <i>mawashi uke</i> to release a wrist grab or apply an arm-bar? Anything is possible (particularly with a compliant partner, though that's another story for another day). Could aliens have built the pyramids? Could have, I suppose, but in the context of what we know, is it likely?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mawashi-like technique at<br />the end of Seipai kata.</td></tr>
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In the context of the Goju-ryu classical kata, the <i>mawashi uke</i> can be seen in Sanchin, Tensho, and Suparinpei. A <i>mawashi</i>-<u>like</u> technique occurs at the end of Saifa, at the end of Seipai, at the end of Seisan, and in the middle of Kururunfa (and, in my heretical opinion, three times in the middle of Suparinpei). The <i>mawashi</i>-like techniques all have one thing in common, other than the circular rotation of both hands--they are all done in cat stance (<i>neko ashi</i>). The <i>mawashi uke</i> we see in Sanchin, Tensho, and at the <u>beginning</u> of Suparinpei are all executed in basic stance or <i>sanchin dachi</i>. The context, it seems to me, determines how they were originally intended to be used. In each of the <i>mawashi</i>-<u>like</u> techniques, it is at the end of a sequence of moves which have allowed you to seize the attacker's head, and in each case the head is twisted with the rotating arms or hands and then, because the defender is in cat stance, a knee kick is executed to the opponent's head. In the case of the <i>mawashi uke</i> techniques, there is little context other than the fact that they are all executed from the double-arm <i>kamae</i> posture--a posture akin to the beginning of a grappling position, which would argue for each of these <i>mawashi uke</i> techniques to begin with a release from an opponent's two-handed grab.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mawashi uke at the<br />beginning of Suparinpei.</td></tr>
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But the question is: Are the techniques found in a kata meant to be understood within the context of that kata or can they be interpreted independent of their context? This raises much larger issues, of course. Are the kata of a system merely random collections of techniques--in which case, one might ask, why put them into kata form?--or are they part of application (<i>bunkai</i>) sequences? If they are part of sequences--and the easiest way to see this is in the realization that all of the techniques in a kata do <u>not</u> function as ends in themselves--then how the techniques are used in any given sequence illustrates the principles of the style or system. To understand the self-defense principles of the system, then, it is important to understand the applications of the techniques. Some of the creative interpretations of techniques people have tried to apply, taken as they are out of context, seem to violate fairly sound martial principles.<br />
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Of course, if you believe that someone created kata (long ago and far far away) with movements that were so generic that they could be understood and applied in a variety of ways, often too numerous to even grasp a fraction of the "application potentials," as some like to call them, then there's little to reasonably argue. And there seems to be a lot of support for this sort of position. As one noted author quoted a legendary teacher: "'None of the movements is restricted to only one application...each application is unlimited.'" The author himself goes on to say that "Anyone who says differently simply does not understand what he or she is talking about." End of discussion....though I would agree to disagree.<br />
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<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30045182.post-22417338322872059802017-07-17T07:12:00.001-08:002017-07-17T07:12:35.303-08:00Seminar in Italy<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGv1BU1i4Q-QF7VZlIBsAV8d9s2d6K5BYmA3SDbxrYugMPjO6Gj5zHs0_Iy2_d-o9SIaSYGEFXa9w9hqolwW28sfa0zIBjvsaORuZZBwFAS0JWXba8fLhOZtYiEgr5R7kHfV0UBA/s1600/IMG_0707.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGv1BU1i4Q-QF7VZlIBsAV8d9s2d6K5BYmA3SDbxrYugMPjO6Gj5zHs0_Iy2_d-o9SIaSYGEFXa9w9hqolwW28sfa0zIBjvsaORuZZBwFAS0JWXba8fLhOZtYiEgr5R7kHfV0UBA/s200/IMG_0707.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Florence</td></tr>
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About 20 years ago, I stopped teaching the karate club at the university and started training in the barn dojo in back of my house. We put in a 3/4-inch plywood floor and covered it with an old wrestling mat from the university, put up a couple of <i>makiwara</i> posts and a heavy bag, a couple of <i>nigiri game</i> jars, some pictures and scrolls from Okinawa, and began training. At first there were six to ten black belts from the university that were either still around or decided to live nearby for the summer, but eventually, since I had no interest in advertising and trying to run a commercial dojo, it dwindled until there was just me and Ivan. Since there was just the two of us training most nights, we found little need to talk or count out basics or kata. We just trained. Generally, we warmed up on our own and then did a round or two of kata, from Sanchin to Suparinpei and Tensho. Then we would work on <i>bunkai,</i> but again there seemed to be little need to talk. We were both conversant enough with the techniques and observant enough of each other's movement to see what was going on just from the constant repetition of <i>ippon kumite</i> drills we did from the techniques in the classical kata. I don't know how else to say it, but we got to a point where we could almost tell what each other was thinking simply from how we were moving. We varied it a lot in those days when we were first trying to understand the classical subjects.<br />
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I was reminded of that sort of silent communication last week, watching my son Noah play soccer or "futbol" as they call it in Italy. We were staying at a hotel near the airport in Rome on our last night in Italy, since we had an early flight home the next morning. We needed to head to the airport at 4am if we were going to catch our flight home to Boston--a grueling 27-hour exodus, counting layovers, that took us from Rome to Istanbul to Boston.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxukVuQ_wUW6FIwRUrsSoA1__GvbCoQuziGfhQ59THykVgpzBrd_bwKSDr6t58yftjxjAYyBhZvV754L41leceodTtj0UouFXWRMkn7bUxtPJVHkPMadmAmNcKSOilSexfEQtTRA/s1600/IMG_0927.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1297" data-original-width="1600" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxukVuQ_wUW6FIwRUrsSoA1__GvbCoQuziGfhQ59THykVgpzBrd_bwKSDr6t58yftjxjAYyBhZvV754L41leceodTtj0UouFXWRMkn7bUxtPJVHkPMadmAmNcKSOilSexfEQtTRA/s200/IMG_0927.jpg" width="200" /></a>Noah discovered a small fenced-in soccer pitch in back of the hotel and went down to unwind and kick a kid-sized soccer ball around that he found in the bushes nearby. A few minutes later, a group of Italian <i>polizia</i> came by with their gym bags and soccer balls, dressed in shorts and soccer cleats. They came after work to play five-a-side games, only this evening they were one player short. They motioned Noah over and invited him to play with them. There were no words really. The only language they shared was the language of soccer. When I came looking for him, the game was well underway. There were smiles and laughter and high fives. They were good, but the game was played for fun. When Noah had to leave, there were fist bumps and handshakes.<br />
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I'm reminded of that camaraderie as I sit here a week later and think back to the seminar I gave a couple of weeks ago in Villadose, Italy. It was the same sort of thing. I don't speak Italian and few of the people at the seminar would be able to understand me if I tried to explain things in words. Certainly Andrea, who initially contacted me after reading this blog and the articles I had written years ago for the Journal of Asian Martial Arts, could translate for me, but I didn't think lengthy explanations and sentence-by-sentence translations was what anyone was there for. I thought back to the times I had trained in Okinawan dojos where, for the most part, the only instruction that was actually verbalized was, " Kori wa ko, desho'," and it was always accompanied by a demonstration. (I think a rough translation was something like "it's like this, isn't it.") Anyway, I had been invited to give a seminar there by the Villadose karate club (Gruppo Sportivo Karate) with the sponsorship and support of FEKDA (Federazione Europea Karate Discipline Associate). The students were all different ages, from old to young, and from all different styles of karate. But we trained together, shared concepts and techniques, and enjoyed ourselves for two days.<br />
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If soccer has its own language and is indeed international, as my son reminded me after his game with the Italian <i>polizia</i>, I think the same might be said of martial arts. There is the silent language of a shared experience and a common understanding, and it is fostered and nourished, I think, through courtesy and respect. And it seems to be something we share as martial artists, regardless of school affiliation or style. So often in these situations, I am reminded of things my teacher, Kimo Wall sensei, would say. I heard them so often that they have become something of a mantra, and in some ways they all have come to mean the same thing.<br />
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<i>Open mind, joyful training.</i></div>
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<i>Replace fear and doubt with knowledge and understanding.</i></div>
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<i>Train hard, train often.</i></div>
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Thank you to everyone who came to train. And especially to Andrea and Luigi Ferrari who went out of their way to make us feel welcome! <i>Grazie Mille</i>!<br />
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<br />Giles Hopkinshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00792620001178526712noreply@blogger.com0