Last time, I suggested we try a thought experiment: assume something is wrong with our fundamental understanding of kata. How would we know and how would we fix it? If you remember the joke, in which a misunderstanding of basic principles becomes unquestioned "truth," the misunderstanding is resolved by going back to the source.
So let's go back to old Okinawa. From the 11th century until 1477, when the king of Okinawa, Sho Shin, banned the private ownership of weapons, Okinawa enjoyed a burgeoning martial arts culture due to a political alliance with China (1377) and a rich trade with the neighboring peoples of South East Asia and of course Japan. The banning of the private ownership of weapons in 1477, and a second ban on weapons ownership in 1609, when Japan took possession of Okinawa, forced the development of karate along a peculiar path. These events created a motivation for unarmed fighting. They created a reason for maintaining secrecy.
Billy Blanks, creator of Tae Bo, wasn't the first to market a wildly popular, albeit watered down, fighting system as exercise. In 1901, Anko Itosu introduces such an exercise program to the Okinawan school system as part of its physical education curriculum. In order to make the practice suitable for children many of the martial applications were deleted or obscured. A few decades later, in 1931, Gichin Funakoshi, a student of Itosu, introduces "karate" to the Japanese school system. Again, like the prior introduction of martial arts to public education in Okinawa, there is a winnowing out of martial technique. In addition, there was a deliberate obscuration of Chinese and other influences in karate, and a move towards sport. If there were a great book of karate/kata, it should be clear by this brief history that many chapters were redacted. So, when critics of bunkai say that there are no hidden technique in kata, they are partially correct. It is no wonder that many karateka who have devoted years of practice and study know little of it. How could they?
Returning to the joke that inspired this thought experiment, we are the monks who upon opening the sacred texts in the vault, find them to be neither original nor complete. What to do? Can we remain content with reduced content? If your answer is in the affirmative to this last question, read no further. You'll probably get upset.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Thought experiment
The story goes that what we know today as Karate we owe to intrepid Okinawans who travelled to China to pick the brains of Chinese masters. Later generations of karate masters based their authority and expertise on how close their relationship was to the original travelers to China, which brings me to a joke told to me by my friend, Bob the chef.
It goes something like this:
A new monk, let's call him Brother Al, is assigned the task of copying ancient manuscripts by hand. The original manuscripts, too valuable to be handled by the monks, are kept in a vault where they've been stored for ages. Only copies are available to the monks in the copy room. Brother Al, being a sharp guy, his joining a monastery not withstanding, asks Abbot Bud, most senior of monks,"Abbot Bud, how can we ensure the accuracy of our work if we only copy from copies?"
Abbot Bud ponders the question as Brother Al looks on. Alarm builds in Brother Al as Abbot Bud's demeanor changes from beatific calm to wide-eyed concern. "Good question, Brother Al, mind the other brothers while I run down to the vault." And with that, Abbot Bud hikes up his robes and sprints as fast as his sandaled feet can carry him across the stone floor. Hours pass, no Abbot Bud.
A concerned Brother Al and two other monks, Josephus and Reggy, make their way to the manuscript vault and find a distraught Abbot Bud. A page of illuminated vellum is crumpled in his tight fist. "It was never ib, it was never ib, it was never i frickin b" Abbot Bud repeats, his eyes swollen with tears. Josephus and Reggy steady Abbot Bud while Brother Al smoothes the wrinkled page. "He's right, my brothers," Al reads, "it's e b r, the word is supposed to be celebrate."
I often think kata can be like ancient manuscripts with transposed or missing letters, even missing pages. Here's a thought experiment-if the first transcription of the kata "manuscript" was flawed, how would you know?
It goes something like this:
A new monk, let's call him Brother Al, is assigned the task of copying ancient manuscripts by hand. The original manuscripts, too valuable to be handled by the monks, are kept in a vault where they've been stored for ages. Only copies are available to the monks in the copy room. Brother Al, being a sharp guy, his joining a monastery not withstanding, asks Abbot Bud, most senior of monks,"Abbot Bud, how can we ensure the accuracy of our work if we only copy from copies?"
Abbot Bud ponders the question as Brother Al looks on. Alarm builds in Brother Al as Abbot Bud's demeanor changes from beatific calm to wide-eyed concern. "Good question, Brother Al, mind the other brothers while I run down to the vault." And with that, Abbot Bud hikes up his robes and sprints as fast as his sandaled feet can carry him across the stone floor. Hours pass, no Abbot Bud.
A concerned Brother Al and two other monks, Josephus and Reggy, make their way to the manuscript vault and find a distraught Abbot Bud. A page of illuminated vellum is crumpled in his tight fist. "It was never ib, it was never ib, it was never i frickin b" Abbot Bud repeats, his eyes swollen with tears. Josephus and Reggy steady Abbot Bud while Brother Al smoothes the wrinkled page. "He's right, my brothers," Al reads, "it's e b r, the word is supposed to be celebrate."
I often think kata can be like ancient manuscripts with transposed or missing letters, even missing pages. Here's a thought experiment-if the first transcription of the kata "manuscript" was flawed, how would you know?
Monday, April 16, 2012
Omote, ura and the poetry of kata
The art in kata is not in the visual appeal of it's dance like moves, nor in the simple kinesthetic appeal of moving. For me, good kata is very much like good poetry, where instead of a few words we have a few gestures communicating volumes. It's the economy that I appreciate.
Misunderstanding kata is like expecting poetry to read like prose. Kata is not prescriptive-if attacker does "x" you respond with "y." The newer, so called fighting kata, attempt this. The traditional kata are a bit more complex. An appreciation of symbolism, pattern and structure is requisite. There is a reason beginning readers start out with "Fun with Dick and Jane" books instead of say the words of Robert Frost. First get command of the language, then develop an understanding of its nuances.
Symbols? A punch is a punch, a kick is a kick. This is true if your karate is merely kick boxing in pajamas. At first, I thought the problem in understanding kata lay in the Japanese concept of omote, what is out front and observable, and ura, what is behind and unseen. This suggests perhaps a conscious effort by early karate masters to conceal secrets. Maybe in the old days, today I believe it's analogous to a failure to appreciate poetry. It is difficult to understand metaphor and simile with a limited vocabulary. There's no spark of recognition.
My prescription, increase your martial arts vocabulary by cross-training. Then go back to your kata and see if that has not made all the difference.
Misunderstanding kata is like expecting poetry to read like prose. Kata is not prescriptive-if attacker does "x" you respond with "y." The newer, so called fighting kata, attempt this. The traditional kata are a bit more complex. An appreciation of symbolism, pattern and structure is requisite. There is a reason beginning readers start out with "Fun with Dick and Jane" books instead of say the words of Robert Frost. First get command of the language, then develop an understanding of its nuances.
Symbols? A punch is a punch, a kick is a kick. This is true if your karate is merely kick boxing in pajamas. At first, I thought the problem in understanding kata lay in the Japanese concept of omote, what is out front and observable, and ura, what is behind and unseen. This suggests perhaps a conscious effort by early karate masters to conceal secrets. Maybe in the old days, today I believe it's analogous to a failure to appreciate poetry. It is difficult to understand metaphor and simile with a limited vocabulary. There's no spark of recognition.
My prescription, increase your martial arts vocabulary by cross-training. Then go back to your kata and see if that has not made all the difference.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Te Waza: Nukite is not a spearhand
The opposable thumb and a big brain enabled our ancestors to survive in the wild. Key to their survival was tool building. It went from fire hardened wooden points to stone tools and eventually through the various metal ages. The progression was always towards better efficiency. In some styles of Karate, we see a regression rather than a progression in the use of hand technique, te waza. Of course, our understanding of karate is that it is an art of unarmed combat; however, this is no reason to believe that through effort and a casual disregard for physics and material science we can transform our bodies and hands into shields and spear points. This kind of thinking, to me, suggests a misunderstanding of kata bunkai.
The nukite in Pinan sono ni is often explained as a spearhand strike to soft body parts of the attacker: eyes and throat. First I would ask, what is the significance of teaching eye jabs? The Three Stooges, if you are familiar with these exemplars of slapstick comedy, demonstrate the simplicity of the eye jab with only two fingers and no training, and yet we have karate masters stabbing pots of gravel, bundles of bamboo and other targets all in an effort to transform multi-jointed fingers into a stabbing tool. Neanderthal man might ask, "why not just use a pointy stick?" A pencil is handy enough. Also, if empty hands are the only tools you have, why run the risk of jamming your fingers if you miss a soft body part and hit something hard?
I am pretty certain that in most cases spearhand strikes are not strikes at all. Jab an eye if you must, but stabbing pots of gravel in preparation is overkill. In the case of Pinan sono ni, the nukite is preceded by an open-handed block. The movement is strikingly similar to the Kyokushin's mawashi uke. So what's the point of the nukite in Pinan sono ni? My suggestion, an entry technique. The downward blocking hand parry's or slaps down the opponent's outstretched arm (presumably a punch or grab), the "nukite" traps, controls, grabs whatever it can. The open hand is open to whatever tactical opportunities present themselves, and not, I would argue, so that the finger tips can stab. In Pinan sono ni, the nukite is immediately followed by a turn of the body. Pay attention to turns in every kata. To me, they suggests throws, particularly when you consider what the hands are doing in the kata immediately prior to and after the turn.
Coincidentally, Te Waza in the Judo world refers to throws precipitated by hand motion. My favorites include ippon seioi nage and tai otoshi. There are many other throws in Judo, all involve turning, precise hand and foot placement, lowered centers of gravity, kinda like kata, only the emphasis is on optimal leverage rather than esthetics. Striking? That's the simple stuff in kata that hardly need elaboration.
The nukite in Pinan sono ni is often explained as a spearhand strike to soft body parts of the attacker: eyes and throat. First I would ask, what is the significance of teaching eye jabs? The Three Stooges, if you are familiar with these exemplars of slapstick comedy, demonstrate the simplicity of the eye jab with only two fingers and no training, and yet we have karate masters stabbing pots of gravel, bundles of bamboo and other targets all in an effort to transform multi-jointed fingers into a stabbing tool. Neanderthal man might ask, "why not just use a pointy stick?" A pencil is handy enough. Also, if empty hands are the only tools you have, why run the risk of jamming your fingers if you miss a soft body part and hit something hard?
I am pretty certain that in most cases spearhand strikes are not strikes at all. Jab an eye if you must, but stabbing pots of gravel in preparation is overkill. In the case of Pinan sono ni, the nukite is preceded by an open-handed block. The movement is strikingly similar to the Kyokushin's mawashi uke. So what's the point of the nukite in Pinan sono ni? My suggestion, an entry technique. The downward blocking hand parry's or slaps down the opponent's outstretched arm (presumably a punch or grab), the "nukite" traps, controls, grabs whatever it can. The open hand is open to whatever tactical opportunities present themselves, and not, I would argue, so that the finger tips can stab. In Pinan sono ni, the nukite is immediately followed by a turn of the body. Pay attention to turns in every kata. To me, they suggests throws, particularly when you consider what the hands are doing in the kata immediately prior to and after the turn.
Coincidentally, Te Waza in the Judo world refers to throws precipitated by hand motion. My favorites include ippon seioi nage and tai otoshi. There are many other throws in Judo, all involve turning, precise hand and foot placement, lowered centers of gravity, kinda like kata, only the emphasis is on optimal leverage rather than esthetics. Striking? That's the simple stuff in kata that hardly need elaboration.
Friday, March 30, 2012
From Tachi Waza to Ashi Waza
My 7th grade teacher, Miss B, was fond of saying, "Keep things for 7 years before throwing them out." That's not a bad rule. My sock drawer could use a little of this discipline. The point is reducing clutter, getting rid of the useless. If Miss B took a look at a typical karate lesson plan I just know there would be a number of things she'd love to trundle off to the dumpster. Take the tachi waza, stances: kiba dachi, zenkutsu dachi, sanchin dachi, kake ashi dachi. Like sweater vests, how many do you really need? What are they doing in the syllabus except to have students stand in funny ways while developing leg strength and preserving tradition? Miss B would have gotten rid of them all. I am all for reducing clutter, especially as springtime approaches. Before we fill the dustbin with seldom used and appreciated karate technique, let's see what can be put to good use.
In my previous post I spoke of neko ashi dachi, the cat stance, as a counter or defense to leg attacks. The unweighted leg is immune to sweeps, trips and reaps. These leg attacks are found in sanchin dachi (ouchi gari) and kake ashi dachi, the cross legged stance. Kake ashi dachi can be interpreted as almost any of the ashi waza in Judo (deashi baria, kouchi gake, kouchi gari, hiza guruma, sase tsurikomigoshi). Note, I am not implying that Judo is the source of this bunkai. Throwing and leg attacks are found in many martial arts older and contemporaneous with Karate and Judo, Shaolin Kung Fu most importantly. However, Judo is the most refined of martial arts when it comes to throwing and provides handy terminology.
So now we have a great bundle of ashi waza instead of funny ways to stand. Throw them away? I think not. Try out a few of these ashi waza. Your tachi waza will never be the same. Sorry Miss B, I'm keeping my tachi err ashi waza.
In my previous post I spoke of neko ashi dachi, the cat stance, as a counter or defense to leg attacks. The unweighted leg is immune to sweeps, trips and reaps. These leg attacks are found in sanchin dachi (ouchi gari) and kake ashi dachi, the cross legged stance. Kake ashi dachi can be interpreted as almost any of the ashi waza in Judo (deashi baria, kouchi gake, kouchi gari, hiza guruma, sase tsurikomigoshi). Note, I am not implying that Judo is the source of this bunkai. Throwing and leg attacks are found in many martial arts older and contemporaneous with Karate and Judo, Shaolin Kung Fu most importantly. However, Judo is the most refined of martial arts when it comes to throwing and provides handy terminology.
So now we have a great bundle of ashi waza instead of funny ways to stand. Throw them away? I think not. Try out a few of these ashi waza. Your tachi waza will never be the same. Sorry Miss B, I'm keeping my tachi err ashi waza.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Sweep the leg!
If you are a martial artist of a certain age, the movie line, "Sweep the leg," should conjure up images of the original Karate Kid struggling to win a match and the girl. The Karate Kid was your standard morality play: overmatched good-guy versus technically excellent, but heart-in-the-wrong-place, bad guy(s). The karate matches themselves, and in particular, the tactical use of neko ashi dachi, tsuru ashi dachi (might as well include kokotsu dachi) illustrate the disconnect between the real physics of fighting and fantasy.
In the real world, Daniel-san would have been creamed by opponents who actually trained fighting skills. All that wood finishing and auto maintenance would have little transfer, sad to say, to fighting . Ironically, the neko ashi dachi Daniel-san is forced to adopt because of a damaged knee is the perfect defense against a leg attack such as the dreaded foot sweep. With most of the body-weight on the rear leg, the front is pretty much immune from sweeps. And that's about all neko ashi dachi is good for, avoiding sweeps and trips. Close-in, Daniel-san would would have been able to avoid all the leg attacks utilizing neko ashi dachi.
As a fighting stance? Come on! Neko ashi dachi limits your mobility. I struggle to suppress a laugh when I see opponents face-off a long distance from each other in neko ashi dachi. Neko ashi dachi also fails as a base from launching strikes; there's no way to put your weight behind the strike. You'd be flailing, which is pretty much what Daniel-san was doing. Try throwing a power shot at the heavy bag from neko ashi dachi. You can't. With most of the weight on your back foot, when you made contact with the bag, more than likely you fell over. If you didn't fall over, ask yourself whether there was any knockdown power in that strike.
But, but, but, "What about the crane kick?" you ask. It is after all a front kick launched from a completely committed neko ashi dachi (that is all of the body-weight rests on the rear leg). Yeah, that's Hollywood. If do right, no can defense. I would have fallen to the ground laughing and ceded the match.
Next: What leg attacks?
In the real world, Daniel-san would have been creamed by opponents who actually trained fighting skills. All that wood finishing and auto maintenance would have little transfer, sad to say, to fighting . Ironically, the neko ashi dachi Daniel-san is forced to adopt because of a damaged knee is the perfect defense against a leg attack such as the dreaded foot sweep. With most of the body-weight on the rear leg, the front is pretty much immune from sweeps. And that's about all neko ashi dachi is good for, avoiding sweeps and trips. Close-in, Daniel-san would would have been able to avoid all the leg attacks utilizing neko ashi dachi.
As a fighting stance? Come on! Neko ashi dachi limits your mobility. I struggle to suppress a laugh when I see opponents face-off a long distance from each other in neko ashi dachi. Neko ashi dachi also fails as a base from launching strikes; there's no way to put your weight behind the strike. You'd be flailing, which is pretty much what Daniel-san was doing. Try throwing a power shot at the heavy bag from neko ashi dachi. You can't. With most of the weight on your back foot, when you made contact with the bag, more than likely you fell over. If you didn't fall over, ask yourself whether there was any knockdown power in that strike.
But, but, but, "What about the crane kick?" you ask. It is after all a front kick launched from a completely committed neko ashi dachi (that is all of the body-weight rests on the rear leg). Yeah, that's Hollywood. If do right, no can defense. I would have fallen to the ground laughing and ceded the match.
Next: What leg attacks?
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
The BS Bunkai Test
Some people wanna fill the world with silly bunkai. . . My good buddy J shared a Hein nidan (Pinan sono ni among the Kyokushin karate crowd) bunkai video he had found online. While we both had a laugh at the instructor's expense, deep down it alarmed me. I checked out some other interpretations of this kata on the net. Poor Heian nidan. Sadly, this particular kata is a magnet for very shakey, logic defying interpretation. If your BS detector isn't sounding off, it's time for re-calibration.
The first hint of fishy bunkai is an elaborate response to such a simple attack as a punch to the face (from that pesky guy standing to your left). One doesn't need any special training to respond to a punch to the face. If one is accustomed to sparring, a parry followed by a counter work well. If one is inexperienced, stepping back, covering up, running away work too. So what gives? It seems to me that some folks are offering up hokey cures for non-existing ailments. And another thing, if you were getting punched in the face and you tried doing the "suggested" arm-twisty maneuver, it's a sure bet you'd get a few more shots in the face. Try it. Reality is the best cure for fishy bunkai syndrome.
The test:
Walk into any boxing or Muay Thai gym. Put on head gear and a mouthguard and ask an obliging partner if he or she wouldn't mind throwing punches at your face. Tell your training partner that it is your aim to catch the first punch and turn it into victory. Get back to me with the results.
The first hint of fishy bunkai is an elaborate response to such a simple attack as a punch to the face (from that pesky guy standing to your left). One doesn't need any special training to respond to a punch to the face. If one is accustomed to sparring, a parry followed by a counter work well. If one is inexperienced, stepping back, covering up, running away work too. So what gives? It seems to me that some folks are offering up hokey cures for non-existing ailments. And another thing, if you were getting punched in the face and you tried doing the "suggested" arm-twisty maneuver, it's a sure bet you'd get a few more shots in the face. Try it. Reality is the best cure for fishy bunkai syndrome.
The test:
Walk into any boxing or Muay Thai gym. Put on head gear and a mouthguard and ask an obliging partner if he or she wouldn't mind throwing punches at your face. Tell your training partner that it is your aim to catch the first punch and turn it into victory. Get back to me with the results.
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