Same difference

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.

Perhaps he didn't mean to imply anything in the least disparaging. His book, A Walk in the Woods, 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.

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.

Open hand block from Shisochin.

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 no 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 (jodan uke) and chest punches (chudan uke) and down blocks (gedan uke) and front kicks (mae geri) 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.

Open hand "block" from Seipai.

It is this bent of mind that tends to divorce kata techniques from their applications or bunkai. 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 bunkai 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.)

The second palm-up technique from
Seisan kata just before the pivot
to the west.

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 bunkai 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.

This, of course, raises a difficult issue. Kata should always inform bunkai. 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 bunkai 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.

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.


[For a more detailed discussion of these techniques see my book, The Kata and Bunkai of Goju-Ryu,
https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/562446/the-kata-and-bunkai-of-goju-ryu-karate-by-giles-hopkins/9781623171995/]

A block is not always a block...

I was sitting on a rock in the woods the other day, taking a few minutes to lament the relentless march of time and the inescapable encroachment of modern life--they're putting up a couple of million-dollar homes not a stone's throw from the entrance trail and I'm feeling like the proverbial curmudgeon complaining about it--thinking what a nice seat I had found there, positioned as it was under the trees. I could replace the old Adirondack chairs with a few of these, I thought. They'd certainly last longer and weather the New England winters a bit better. I was reminded of a boulder on the way to Lake Oscawana with a naturally worn out indentation in it that my mother always wanted to take home and use as a bird bath. It was about five feet high and must have weighed quite a few tons!

The final position of what is sometimes
referred to as the right ridge hand
from the end of Saifa kata.

Of course, that boulder is probably still sitting by the side of the road, where it was dropped some time during the last ice age. And the rock I was sitting on would never really replace a good Adirondack chair. There were no benches in this part of the woods as there was no scenic place to sit and bathe in the natural beauties of the world, someone determined, but it would serve in a pinch. However, it was still a rock, and only relatively comfortable given that there wasn't any alternative. It was still a rock.

And for some reason, thinking about that rock made me think about the old dojo admonition: "A block is not always a block, and a punch is not always a punch." Or, as it is sometimes understood: "A punch is a block and a block is a punch." And I thought, which is it? The two are vastly different if you think about it.

Some have referred to this as a
kamae posture in Seiunchin
and Seipai katas since it is
executed stepping back.

I tried to think of an appropriate analogy. Analogies always help me to understand things a little bit better. For instance, a pie plate could be used as a frisbee. I think they started out that way actually.But a pie plate isn't a very good frisbee, and a frisbee is certainly not a pie plate. I can't imagine any respectable chef serving up an apple pie in a frisbee.

I think it's the same in karate. Take what I like to refer to as the dreaded ridge-hand strike (haito uchi), done with the opposite side of the hand as the shuto attack, with the point of contact on the side of the index finger knuckle of the hand when the hand is brought across, palm down. Some people find this strike beginning the last mawashi technique of Saifa kata. But it's a lousy way to attack anything. Could it be used as a strike, this technique that begins the mawashi/tora guchi at the end of Saifa? Certainly it could, but was that its original intention, given that it's not a very effective strike and probably more likely to injure the person using it than the person it is used on?

The double "punch" from
 Sanseiru and Suparinpei.

I think what they really mean when they say that "a block is not always a block" is that things aren't always what they seem. Take the down block (gedan barai), for example. It just looks like a down block, but in the classical subjects of Goju-ryu it isn't used as a block at all. You could call it a block.You could even use it as a block in some yakusoku kumite drill. But if we base our interpretation of the technique on how it is used in the sequences of the classical Goju-ryu kata, then it isn't a block. And to compound the difficulty--and I would certainly agree that a punch is not always a punch--but then sometimes it's not a block either. Look at the double punch that we find in Sanseiru and Suparinpei. From its position in the sequences of both kata, it would seem to be neither a punch nor a block.

We tend to love cryptic sayings; they seem to hint at unplumbed depths of hidden meaning. I can just hear old Master Po whispering softly into Kwai Chang Caine's ear: "A block is not always a block, Grasshopper." And all he meant to suggest is that it may look like a block in kata, but appearances can be deceiving.

But to say that a punch is a block and a block is a punch...well, it would be sort of like calling that rock there a tree. It's clearly not.

In the shadow of the teacher

The shrine in the Barn Dojo.

I was watching an interesting video the other day, though perhaps interesting isn't the right word for it. In it, a very senior karate-ka sat in seiza at the feet of the teacher, An'ichi Miyagi, who sat above him in a folding chair. The student was interviewing him ostensibly about training in the old days under Miyagi Chojun sensei and who knew what katas and who taught whom what kata, but what really came through the interview was a sort of unabashed self promotion and a less disguised bashing of Morio Higaonna. It reminded me of a game we used to play as kids. It was a variation of the traditional game of tag, I suppose, because you "tagged" the other person by stepping on his or her shadow. It's actually kind of interesting in that it adds another dimension to the game. You have to not only make sure you avoid all of the other players, but in turning and dodging and weaving in and out of obstacles, you have to be aware of your shadow as well. And your shadow moves as you move; that is, sometimes it's behind you, sometimes it's alongside of you, and sometimes it runs off in front of you.

I'm not exactly sure why I thought of all this, except that I know it had to do with shadows in a metaphorical way. So often, it seems to me, students want to sit in some teacher's shadow, and in doing so, they want to make sure that their teacher's shadow is bigger than someone else's shadow. I suppose this is the whole lineage question. But why do students think that they can bask in anyone else's glory, by association, simply standing in someone's shadow? The extent of one's knowledge or understanding of karate can only be measured on the dojo floor. It's something personal. I'm reminded of Plato's Cave. What if the shadow you're standing in (and it might even be the shadow of "the world's greatest karate master") isn't the real thing?

With Choboku Takamine and
Seikichi Higa senseis.

This video was sort of funny and sort of sad at times, and I found myself wondering what point there was in putting it on the Internet. "Who taught Miyazato" or "Who taught Morio Higaonna"  this kata or that kata, the interviewer asked over and over again. "I teach," An'ichi Miyagi would answer. So-and-so didn't know that kata, he would add, or so-and-so had no "understanding" of that kata. I think the point that the viewer was supposed to take away was that the student, kneeling at the foot of the master, had found the source. He was legitimizing himself by proximity to the real source. Everyone else was not the real thing.

We have guilt by association, so I suppose we also have its opposite, something like legitimacy by association. But then again, neither one is really true, is it? And I am making no judgment here on what An'ichi Miyagi knows or what Eiichi Miyazato knows or what Morio Higaonna knows. Personally, and this is probably obvious to anyone who has read any of my ramblings, I'm not a fan of any of their ideas on bunkai or understanding of Goju-ryu. In my experience of training in Okinawan dojos, they teach hojo undo, junbi undo, kihon, kata, and various forms of kiso kumite and yakusoku kumite. Very little bunkai of classical kata is taught--though this seems to be changing in recent years--and if you don't teach the bunkai to the classical kata, it is very difficult to practice the principles upon which Goju-ryu is based. My teacher once said to me, "Don't follow me. Follow Goju." The teacher points the way. But it is each individual's journey. The only things that lurk in the shadows are paper dragons.

More on karate forums

Sorry in advance for the rant, but I didn't have anything else to write about so I thought this deserved a short comment. (I hope the irony isn't lost there!) 

I was reading a couple of forums and blogs recently. I don’t know why. On one of them, a rather popular site that tends to sometimes lengthy discussions of traditional Okinawan karate--at least that's the way it's billed--the forum regulars were bemoaning the fact that a lot of forums had gone quiet recently, that there didn’t seem to be any interesting topics of discussion, and that this had been the case for months. I could sympathize. Of course, all things go in cycles. I started training martial arts back in the days when Kung Fu was a popular TV show. Heck, I knew students who stayed home to watch David Carradine instead of come to class. But the really funny thing about these forum regulars to me was that in discussing the lack of meaningful discussion topics most of them seemed to come to the

When is a punch,
not a punch?

conclusion that they didn’t themselves engage in or bring up more interesting topics--though they could certainly take some of the blame, I think--because they no longer felt the need; all of their questions had been answered. There wasn’t anything that they were unsure of?!? (Here I actually wondered whether this was also the case of the folks who read my humble blogs, since I so rarely hear from anyone.)

Anyway, how could this be? Who are these people? Is it that they don’t train enough or they have no imagination? What with all of the back slapping and deferential agreement that so often accompanies any discussion on these forums, IMHO it’s surprising that any of them have lasted this long. Most of the time they seem more like mutual admiration societies. I hate to rant, but that in itself raises all sorts of questions for me. For example, if two people practice the same kata differently, however slight those differences may be, doesn’t that raise questions? Who’s right? Why the differences? Perhaps everyone has just agreed to disagree. Life goes on. There is no argument, and no one is wrong because everyone is right. And they all lived happily ever after. Except I have questions, always questions…  Why does the Higa dojo (Shodokan) do Sanseiru one way and Meibukan and Jundokan do it another way? Why do we practice an upper-level punch (jodan tsuki) in most schools when it doesn’t occur anywhere in the classical kata? Why do we practice barefoot in New England? Why do we count in Japanese? 

I guess the answers are probably pretty predictable for most people—something akin to what I read on another forum this past week. At the end of the discussion topic, one forum participant wrote something like this: “Well, that’s what my teacher said, and I see no reason to question him since he hasn’t steered me wrong yet.” And they lived happily ever after.

Hojo undo

Hojo undo, or supplementary exercises, in Okinawan karate are

Using the forearm to attack in
Saifa and Seiunchin katas.

usually done with a variety of old-style implements one often sees in a traditional dojo. You can make them yourself or employ various modern substitutes to effect the same results. To me, however, the one caveat is that the implements and the training one employs should be used to develop or strengthen the techniques one sees in the classical katas. In fact, one could argue that everything one does with respect to hojo undo training should be practiced with that in mind; how the exercise benefits one's technique, one's ability to perform the techniques we see in kata and bunkai. So, as blasphemous as it may sound, training on the makiwara (punching post), for example, as ubiquitous as this tool is in traditional karate dojos, seems to me to be rather low on the list of hojo undo practices. There are many other techniques in the classical kata of Goju-ryu that actually seem more common or at least as deserving of supplemental training as the straight punch (tsuki). (Though, of course, the straight punch is not the only technique one can train on the makiwara.) What about training implements to develop one's forearm strikes? Or something to work on strengthening knee kicks? Or twisting motions to develop the mawashi techniques?

Using the knee to attack the head
in Seiunchin kata.

I suppose one could rely solely on kote-kotai (arm pounding) to develop one's forearm strikes. But there are implements one can also use. I have a couple of saw horses in my dojo. When Sifu Liu, the noted Feeding Crane master, saw them, he suggested I round the edges on the top 2 X 4s a bit and use them for arm pounding. He thought the height was just about right for that.

The iron geta can be used to develop leg strength for knee kicks, but some sort of horizontal kicking post would also be good. I've sometimes also used a medicine ball held in two hands for working on knee kicks--gruesome thought, but a fairly good approximation of the opponent's head in many of the techniques/bunkai we see in Goju classical subjects.

Using the grip to pull the opponent
down in Saifa kata.

The gripping jars (nigiri-game) are good to work on grip strength, of course, which occurs everywhere in Goju classical subjects, but there's also stick bundles. You get a handful of those three-foot skinny bamboo tomato stakes and put them in a cloth bag. You can twist them and work on splitting them with your fingers while gripping them. My teacher used to have us work in pairs twisting belts (obi) for the same effect.

The kongoken is another useful hojo undo tool. Legend has it that Miyagi Chojun sensei saw it being used by wrestlers on a visit to Haiwaii and decided that it would be a good addition to the arsenal of Okinawan training equipment. It's a large, metal, elongated oval. It's heavy and perhaps a bit ungainly looking, but it would be a good way to train the use of the arms and hands in applying mawashi techniques--most of the mawashi techniques that we see in the classical katas are not for blocking, but rather twisting the head and neck of the opponent.

Using the grip and twisting strength
of the arms against an opponent's
head/neck in Seipai kata.

Another tool one could use in a similar way is the sashi-ishi--a large, round stone or concrete ball with a wooden handle through it. Since there is also significant weight here and the grip can be alternated, it can provide excellent resistance training for the mawashi movements so important in Goju-ryu finishing techniques.

Hojo undo training is important, but one should remember to keep it functional. Despite the appearance of techniques in kata--and one should always remember that the appearance of techniques in kata may be quite different from their actual applications--Goju-ryu is largely comprised of forearm blocks, grabbing, grappling, forearm attacks, knee kicks, and head/neck twisting techniques. This is what we want to develop with hojo undo training--that is, it's not simply to develop strength per se. In fact, a reliance on physical strength often makes one's Goju-ryu too "Go"--often appearing too hard and rigid--and gets in the way of truly understanding what is meant by "hard and soft."

Sanchin and stuff again

I recently came across this analysis of Sanchin kata.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0qrGwPGku68

I'm not sure the link actually takes you to the right place, but it was a YouTube video called "Sanchin Basic Analysis."

Yang Chengfu standing
in the Wu Wei posture

Now I must admit that any analysis of Sanchin--that is, the attempt to find bunkai in Sanchin--baffles me. A number of principles certainly, but I don't believe Sanchin in Goju-ryu was ever meant to be seen as a bunkai kata in the same sense as the other Goju subjects. I've written about this before. It's my belief that it's a futile endeavor--it's a basic kata to study  posture, breathing, and a number of other basic things--or, at best, the techniques are so elementary that it begs the question of why one would spend time trying to "find" applications for Sanchin when the other classical subjects are so much richer with intentional bunkai. I suppose this sort of thinking comes from what seems to me to be a misunderstanding of the oft-repeated statement that Sanchin is the fundamental kata of both Goju-ryu and Uechi-ryu. What do we mean by fundamental? Surely that doesn't mean, as I have sometimes heard, that the root of all Goju/Uechi techniques can be found in Sanchin. If that's true, it's certainly putting too fine a point on it for me. That's like saying that all T'ai Chi postures can be found in the Wu Wei beginning posture. I suppose in one sense that's true, as Wu Wei is emptiness or non-action, and all things begin from non-action, but it doesn't really get you very far.

First technique in Saifa kata

But what did interest me about this analysis of Sanchin was that the person demonstrating the techniques was doing the same technique against a right attack or a left attack, moving to the inside of the attacker or the outside. I have heard the same thing from some kung fu practitioners (and other karate people)--that you should be able to execute any technique regardless of which hand the attacker is attacking with. The "logic" behind this, as expressed to me, was that you don't have sufficient time to figure out which hand someone is attacking with and respond with the appropriate hand. I think this is ridiculous for two reasons: one, all techniques do not work from either side; and two, while I may not have sufficient time to contemplate which technique might be an appropriate response in a split second, I certainly have time to move and raise a hand to either the inside or the outside of the attack. That is, though I may not have time to contemplate which "bridging" or "finishing" technique may be appropriate, I certainly have time to respond with a "receiving" (uke) technique. (If I don't, I get hit--which means responding to the inside or outside with the same technique makes no difference anyway.)
What I do from there is dictated by my initial movement or uke (receiving of the attack)--and Goju actually shows a limited number of ways to receive that initial attack--the attacker's movements, and which controlling and finishing techniques fit with my initial response. One thing leads to the other rather

Part of second technique
in Seiunchin

fluidly and without a lot of thought. For example, the opening or first technique of Saifa (a technique that is shown three times to show the other side) is against an opponent grabbing my right hand with his left hand. It doesn't work if the opponent grabs my right hand with his right hand. If that were the case, I would respond with the second sequence of Seiunchin kata. Sometimes techniques are shown multiple times in kata because the kata shows attacks from one side or the other; the message is not, on the contrary, that the same technique (done with the same hand that is) should be able to be applied against any attack. Most of the time in Goju-ryu, this response is fairly easy to see based on the principle that the safest place to be or the safest response is to move to the outside of the attack. Training and logic both provide us with this answer. The problem, I think, is that the training is often not real enough or logic has flown right out the window.

Martial arts forums, talk, and such

The place where questions
 are answered.

Why is everyone so damned polite on the Internet? Is it because of a cultural tidal wave of political correctness that we have forgotten how to be critical without ad hominem attacks? Wouldn't the martial arts benefit from some critical analysis, from some peer review? I watch videos on YouTube of people demonstrating kata that are down right horrendous and no one can say anything other than "nice" things. And these aren't beginners. I could understand if it were beginners, but I'm talking about people who have supposedly been training for years. Is it because of a recent case where someone was hit with a libel suit because they had written a scathing review of a business on their blog site? I suppose that would be chilling. Who's to blame? Is society to blame? Or the people with the hubris to put themselves up on YouTube?  Or the teachers who masquerade as experts?

Not the dreaded ridge-hand
at the end of Saifa kata.

And I'm not even talking about bunkai! There's some pretty silly stuff out there. I know it's been said before--and I do think the Interent has the potential to be a wonderful resource--but there's no filter on it. Perhaps the problem is that there are many many karate practitioners out there who subscribe to the view that there are many applications to every move in kata. Or as it says over and over again in Kane and Wilder's book, The Way of Kata, "more than one proper application exists for any given movement of any given kata....Anyone who says differently simply does not understand what he or she is talking about." Of course there is some ambiguity here. What do we mean by "proper application?" But, for example, do we mean that the final technique in Saifa--the mawashi uke if you will--can be used to break someone's double-handed grab? Or as a push? Or as a ridge hand attack to the opponent's ribs? Sure you can use it in any of these ways, but is that what was originally intended? 

This sort of view is only a small step--a little sliding step if you will because it's a slippery slope--from the notion that a technique can mean anything. And it's not too hard in the confines of the dojo--with a compliant junior student--to make anything work. Or to change certain aspects of the technique shown in kata and say that you're showing variations or hidden techniques or oyo bunkai or the more advanced levels of this that and the other. People say all manner of things when pushed into a corner. But whatever the bunkai, it should be logical, lethal, and conform to the principles of martial movement. It's easy to dismiss bunkai that isn't based on sound martial principles.

And to some degree, the same thing applies to kata. You can "see" the bunkai in a good performance of kata. I would argue that some of the performance kata one sees on the Internet may be appealing to the eye of the inexperienced--excessive use of dynamic tension, moves that are held too long, overly large and sweeping arm movements--but they only underscore the lack of any real understanding of bunkai on the part of the demonstrators. Okinawan karate, if done properly, is probably not very pretty to look at--certainly not very stylish or flamboyant--but it is effective.

So rant aside, what I am suggesting is that martial arts needs some critical rather than polite discourse. We need to argue with each other and scrutinize. We need to debate and defend and be a little less thin-skinned or politically correct. I think everyone would benefit from more open discourse.

The Seventh Principle...in no particular order

Don't look at the final position to explain a technique.

I think this happens a lot when it comes to interpreting kata--that is, people tend to look at the final position of a technique to explain its application. It's almost as if they are looking at still photographs in a book. Where does the fault lie? I'm actually not sure one can assign blame in this case. Karate is a movement art. In order to learn it, we follow the instructor, moving from technique to technique, stopping at the end of each until we begin the next. But we need to keep in mind that what is really important is often what happens between techniques--how we get from one position to the next.

Seipai kata

This technique from Seipai is not a block of a kick, even though the final position shows the left hand in a gedan or down position. From the previous position--with the left hand "chambered" on the left side at the ribs--the left arm moves in a clock-wise circular motion, crossing the centerline, ending in the final position that we see in the photograph. Most traditional interpretations show this as a block of an attacker's left front kick--as if someone is going to initiate an attack with a front kick to the midsection. The right hand is often sa id to be a block of the same attacker's left punch. So the attacker, supposedly, has attacked, rather awkwardly one can imagine, with a left kick and left punch. If we remember to look at the entire movement or how one gets to this position, however, we see a circular block of the opponent's right punch and a right open hand attack. The block is a kind of "changing gate" block that first blocks on the outside of the opponent's attack and then, because of the circular nature of the block, opens the opponent for the counter.

Sanseiru kata

Neither is this technique from Sanseiru a block of a kick as many have suggested, even though this "final position" might suggest that the left forearm is blocking a low front kick. If you try to block a front kick this way, however, chances are the opponent is going to punch you in the head--that is, unless they are quite compliant and agreeable. But if the technique actually begins before you think it begins--which is usually the case--then you will find an effective arm bar.

Which all goes to suggest that nothing is really hidden...but things are not always what they seem.

The Second Principle...in no particular order: kata analysis cont.

"Much of the stepping--particularly in the initial "uke"--indicates how the defender steps off line and consequently the direction from which the opponent's attack comes."

Taking Saifa--the first classical subject in the Goju-ryu canon--as an example, and imagining that one starts the kata facing north, the first sequence, repeated three times--a wrist grab release and arm bar, followed by a grab of the opponent's head, a step back and down into shiko-dachi, and a forearm strike to the back of the opponent's neck--shows the defender moving in along either a northeast tangent to the opponent (in the first and third repetition) or a northwest tangent to the opponent (in the second repetition).

The second sequence--beginning with the block of a two-handed push, followed by a front kick, and ending with the lower-level hammer fist--also shows an initial movement in along the northwest tangent.

The third sequence--the turn around to the south which again ends with a lower-level hammer fist--shows a 90 degree off-line initial movement with the attacker stepping in from the west with a left upper-level punch.

The fourth sequence, which shows an initial left hand block and right hand hammer fist strike and is repeated on the other side with a right hand block and left hand hammer fist strike, again shows a 90 degree off-line movement with the attacker again stepping in from the west.

The fifth and last sequence, the step and mawashi uke, again shows a 90 degree off-line movement with the attacker again stepping in from the west.

Saifa kata shows two of the directional off-line movements found in the Goju-ryu classical subjects. One can see an example of stepping back directly to the south in Seiunchin kata (with the defender facing north and the attacker stepping in from the north). One can see an example of stepping back at an angle to the southwest or southeast in Kururunfa kata (again facing north with the attack from the north).

Last sequence in
Seipai showing 90
degree step off line.

So what one should see in kata is a demonstration of how one steps off line. The pattern of kata doesn't show turns because one has run out of space but because it shows both where the attack is coming from and how one should avoid it in applying the technique. What should be apparent then is that in analyzing kata (bunkai) one should always start from the end of the previous sequence, because it is the movements and steps between sequences that show how to move off line, and, consequently, the application of the techniques may be different from what one previously imagined.



End of throw in last
Seipai sequence.

For example, in the last sequence of Seipai kata, if we begin from the undercut in shiko-dachi which ends the previous sequence, one steps and turns in a clockwise fashion to face the original front. But the off-line movement shows us that the attacker is not coming from the north or original front but from the west. This changes the way we might see the hand techniques applied. In this case, as one steps off line with the left foot, the left arm blocks an opponent's right punch. At the same time the defender's right hand comes across the opponent's face to the right side of his head. Then, turning towards the front, as both arms move in a clockwise fashion, taking the opponent's arm and head with them, the opponent is spun around and thrown. The sequence finishes with the low hammer-fist.

The Principles of Bunkai or Kata Analysis

I came across a video recently discussing the "principles" of Goju blocking techniques. It made some good points, and it got me to thinking that few karate practitioners seem to discuss principles at all, or if they do they only give the most cursory acknowledgement to the notion, as if the principles themselves were so obvious and so universally practiced that they didn't warrant any discussion. But I don't think that's the case. I think that most karate practitioners don't think about principles at all, or, if pressed, would only mouth what had been posted on the dojo wall in framed kanji or repeated training mantras. "Karate Ni Sente Nashi" or "There is no first attack in karate," for example. Now certainly there's nothing wrong with these words of wisdom--not what I'm suggesting at all--but principles, it seems to me, should inform, or be the basis of, how one analyzes kata.  Our practice, it seems to me, should be more about practicing and reinforcing principles of movement and self-defense. The moves in kata are merely the vehicles by which we practice those principles. So here's my preliminary list of "principles" that one should use to analyze kata--that is, to do bunkai:

• If there is no first attack in karate, look for the block or uke at the beginning of each combination or sequence of moves. Now some may say that that in itself is an assumption--that katas are composed of combinations or sequences. But this seems to be borne out. Often, these "blocks" are done simultaneously with an attack or "bridging" technique with the other hand. In any case, the block (uke) or receiving technique together with the controlling or bridging technique, along with proper stepping, should leave the defender in such a position that the attacker does not have a second chance to attack. Caveat: This is not necessarily true of the opening sequences of threes, such as the three punches in Seisan or the three nukites in Shisochin. These are basics.
• Much of the stepping--particularly in the initial "uke"--indicates how the defender steps off line and consequently the direction from which the opponent's attack comes. The principle here, followed in almost all cases, is that the attacker is attacking one's centerline and the defender is stepping off the centerline to avoid the attack. This is safer and makes blocking easier. In analyzing kata (or looking for bunkai), how you step off line with the initial block should show you the direction from which the attacker is attacking. You should have moved your center off line. The kata shows these steps and movements in a variety of ways and along various angles--stepping to the front tangent (northeast or northwest), stepping off 90 degrees (to the west or east), stepping back at an angle (to the southwest or southeast), and stepping directly back (to the south).
• Block the hands, protect against an elbow, but attack the head. The attacking techniques of Goju-ryu always seem to go for the head or neck of the opponent. It's generally much deadlier than simple punch-kick responses. Even middle-level punches are often at this level only because the opponent's head has been brought down. Even the fairly ubiquitous mawashi-uke is mostly used against the opponent's head and neck when we see it in kata.
• Since Goju-ryu is a system of self-defense, when one employs a technique correctly it should seem effortless. This is, of course, facilitated by turning and moving off line. If a bunkai seems to require too much strength or depend on seemingly too much speed, it's probably not right. Obviously you need to practice and learn techniques, but if a technique (the bunkai that you think you've found) doesn't seem to work and your response is, "It'll work but you just have to get faster or stronger," then go back to the drawing board. 
• Speaking of combinations: In Goju-ryu katas, entry techniques and controlling techniques are followed by finishing techniques, but the finishing technique may sometimes only be tacked on to the second combination or sequence. Additionally, once you have found the combination or sequence of techniques, the movements within the sequences should be continuous and uninterrupted. No gaps.
• To find and to properly understand the techniques, it is important to see how the attacker would respond to each of the defender's techniques. In other words, if the defender blocks the attacker's punch and then kicks to his knee or groin, it is often important to "see" the response--that the attacker's head is thereby brought down--in order to understand the techniques that follow it. In some cases, this may be difficult to actually demonstrate on a friend or training partner, as some techniques are particularly violent--especially ones which involve grabbing and twisting the head.
• Don't look at the final position (meaning the still photograph of a position one might see in an instructional manual) to explain a technique. The real explanation needs to incorporate the movement of "getting there" from the previous position. The circular block one employs may end up in the down (gedan) position, but it may cross one's centerline (what the attacker is attacking) in the upper or middle level.
• Do the move in bunkai, against a partner, exactly how it occurs in kata. This should include any steps or directional changes. If kata, it may be assumed, is the means that karate teachers chose to preserve and remember technique, then all of the keys for learning how to apply those techniques are in the kata themselves. Nothing is really hidden. It's just that sometimes we don't know what we are looking at.

Those are some of the basic principles of kata analysis or bunkai. Of course, not everyone is of the same opinion. Then again, many people that I've seen don't seem to base their bunkai on any principles. Then there are whole schools of Goju-ryu where the bunkai doesn't look anything like the kata. What's that all about?

Anyway, there's nothing really new here--I mentioned most of these in articles in the Journal of Asian Martial Arts--sadly no longer publishing, though still available in back issues.

So that's about all I have to say on the subject--or at least that's it in a nutshell. Any questions?

Best regards,
(I have to go train....this blogging stuff takes up too much time.)
 Giles

Shisochin...what four?

Hokama book

Many years ago, in a country far, far away...I'm thinking of this because I saw a discussion of Shisochin recently...Anyway, at the time I was sitting in Matayoshi Shinpo sensei's dojo with a number of other students from the States, when Hokama Tetsuhiro sensei came by. Not so unusual, I suppose, since he had trained kobudo with Matayoshi sensei. This was just after he had written his first book on the history of Okinawan karate. He had a stack of books with him, which he brought in, very generously autographed, and gave to us. I think we actually bought them, but it was certainly worth it. The pictures are great, though I still can't read it!

Later, on a walk back after visting the Shuri museum with him and Matayoshi sensei, we had an opportunity to ask Hokama sensei about the meanings of the different Goju-ryu kata names, among other things. I wish we had been savy enough to ask more meaningful questions, but we were relatively young in age and experience. Anyway, I remember Hokama sensei saying that he believed Shisochin got its name form the four-direction palm strikes, since there were four of these techniques and they were done first to the south, then to the north, then west, and finally to the east.

A plausible explanation, I suppose, but I have since come to think that the kata was called Shisochin (four direction fighting) because it shows responses to attacks from four directions--from the front, the back, and the sides. Certainly most of the other classical kata of Goju-ryu show a variety of ways to respond to attacks from the front and sides, but Shisochin seems to me to show a response to an attack from the rear--not such a common scenario in Goju-ryu, I think--though I don't subscribe to the idea that the over-the-shoulder "punch" is an attack to the rear. Rather, I believe, the movement of the arms simply shows a release from a rear bear hug attempting to pin the defender's arms to his sides. The dropping motion of the body along with the rear thrust of the hips facilitates this release. The counter-attack, however, is in the turn around into the final position. The upper left arm of the defender's release grabs the attacker's head on the turn around, while the defender's right hand drops, first attacking the groin and then bringing the attacker's left arm up while bringing the attacker's head down with the left arm. The final position is in cat stance (neko-ashi) to show that the knee is brought up into the attacker's head or face. The end. Of course, I could be wrong.

The interesting thing, however, is that this bunkai or analysis of kata takes into consideration not just some aspects of the moves in kata but all of them--the hands, the feet, the body, the directional changes, etc. I hate it when someone calls it bunkai and it doesn't match the kata?! Call it something else. Flights of fancy (or experimentation) are fun and even often instructive, but if kata is a tool to remember how to do techniques, then bunkai should show how those same techniques are applied, shouldn't it?

Something similar to Shisochin technique just before the turn from the Bubishi.

The question is....

"The nail that sticks up gets pounded down." --ancient Japanese folk wisdom.

I was wondering the other day what it would be like if Socrates had practiced karate. A simple stonecutter known throughout ancient Athens for his knowledge of martial arts. Of course, Socrates would not have taught martial arts in the traditional manner that we have come to associate with almost anything Eastern. We watch, we imitate, and we progress through the ranks, most of the time rarely questioning anything. Socrates, I fear, may have been different. This was the man, afterall, who was sentenced to death, to drink hemlock, for corrupting the youth of Athens. And what did he do? He taught them to question tradition, to question the way things had always been done, and he did it by asking questions himself. What would he have said about the karate that we so diligently accept--without question--from our revered teachers.

Socrates: Why do you chamber your punches? Isn't it slower? And if true speed comes from relaxation, why are so many karate people so tense? Why do they seem to hold punches locked out in some pretense of strength when a really fast and strong punch is relaxed until the moment of impact and then immediately relaxes again?

Student: But appearances are important aren't they?

Socrates: Do I really need to answer that? Not to change the subject, but why are there turns in kata? I mean, if you're doing it for yourself or even if you're demonstrating for someone else, why would you turn around unless the turn itself has meaning--that is, unless the turn actually shows you how to step off line?

Student: Didn't they turn around when they ran out of room?

Socrates: Didn't they train outside? And speaking of techniques, if some techniques seem quite a bit more lethal than others, don't you think it possible that the katas are composed of combinations of techniques--that is, the sequences begin with a block or receiving technique (uke) and end with the opponent down?

Student: But karate training will teach me "the one punch kill," won't it? I mean, if any one of my techniques will kill, then how is kata anything more than a collection of individual and unrelated techniques?

Socrates: Do you really think your one punch can disable an opponent that's not standing there like a makiwara post? Are you really that naive? And how long will it take you to train that killer punch? And you'll be how old then? And speaking of punches, why all the punches to the chest, not a very lethal technique is it? Isn't it more logical that the punches are really to the opponent's head and you should back up in the sequence of moves to figure out how you got the opponent's head down to chest level? And speaking of hidden techniques...why all the cat stances? I mean what good is a cat stance if not to allow you to knee kick off the front leg? Really, isn't it possible that all the supposed down side kicks in Goju-ryu are really knee kicks?

Student: Is that why we train with the iron geta?

Socrates: Did you ever try to do a front kick with one on? And speaking of strength training, shouldn't a viable system of self-defense be most efficacious for people who may most need it? That is, should you be able to use your self-defense when you are old and least likely to be able to defend yourself with strength and speed? Then logically, shouldn't sound technique require little physical strength to apply it effectively?

Student: Do you mean the study of koshi and spinal rotation rather than meeting all attacks head on?

Socrates: Speaking of head on, is it logical at the beginning of Sanseiru to step back and block a kick? Aren't you bringing your head down, inviting the attacker to punch you in the head after you block his kick? Is it even logical for someone to initiate an attack with a kick? Why would you move to put yourself in danger of a second attack? Is it possible that something else is going on here? And in Seipai, with its 270 degree turn, why would you turn your back on the opponent as some well-known teachers do, when they attack with a double punch, its blocked, and they turn almost all the way around to attack again? Isn't it more logical to suppose that you are not actually turning your back on the opponent but throwing him?

Obviously this could go on and on. The heretic Socrates was told that he could "take it all back," in a manner of speaking, or he could drink hemlock. It's strange to me that someone asking questions--whether it was 2500 years ago or today--could so upset the powers that be that they could be viewed as heretics spewing blasphemy, but that is the nature of the beast. We don't tend to question what we are doing, and if we do, we often don't ask the right questions. I think true learning only occurs when we ask questions--that is, when we question what we do. Of course, there are often answers, but some answers are better than others.