Light and Quick.

Intended as very much a Wado karate piece, but can apply to other systems.

Themes:

·       When we observe Wado karate practitioners presenting what they do; are we too much in love with the ‘content’ of what we see over the way the techniques are delivered?

·       Simplicity versus over-complication.

·       An example; the Kihon Gumite of Wado karate.

·       Clunkiness; or the no-fuss, understated rapidity of a true virtuoso?

·       Examples.

I see Wado stylists showing off their wares and I find myself wondering; what are they expressing?

If we view action as a form of ‘expression’ mixed with ‘intent’; whether it is formal kata, personalised inspired drills, or freeform training, it still expresses something. But maybe not what you might think, or want it to be.

Content versus mode of delivery.

It is relatively easy to judge and evaluate the CONTENT of kata or drills; this block, this body evasion, this counter-strike. However, ‘content’ is nowhere near as interesting or revealing as the actual mode of delivery.

We can get seduced by ‘content’ and, if we are not careful, it becomes the over-riding factor; after all, isn’t the content the measure of whether it works or not? But, if we get carried away with the design of the content, often coming to the conclusion (wrongly) that the more convoluted it is the more advanced it is, we could be looking at the wrong thing. The reality is that often, less is more.

In practical martial arts the simplest conclusion has to be the most desirable one; surely? In defending yourself, anything more than two moves creates gaps into which chaos can sneak and sabotage your best-laid plans. These are the gaps which a switched-on opponent will capitalise on, and then, despite all your complex and clever training, you are undone.

Kihon Gumite (the paired kata of Wado karate).

Let’s look at ‘design’ first.

In this instance, I am talking about formal paired kata as vehicles for the training of Principles.

If you examine Otsuka Sensei’s Kihon Gumite from the point of view of design (something I occasionally call ‘the politics of paired kata’) there are some interesting things going on.¹

For this example, I choose the Kihon Gumite over the Kumite Gata (or the Ura no Kumite) because it is the Kihon Gumite that feature the added complexity (there is nothing ‘basic’ about the Kihon Gumite). But not complexity for complexity’s sake.

I will choose as my specific example Kihon Gumite No. 6, because it features a three-move extended attacking combination. (I tend to have the most fun training and teaching this one for this reason alone).

Its ‘content’ seems complicated, and, dare I say it, over-extended, like a metaphor that has been stretched to the point of exaggerated verbosity. But, that’s what makes it so interesting. Throughout its sequence it lays a series of traps for both attacker and defender to navigate through. Look at it as a kind of conversation between equals.

The fun with this one, the deeper vein to explore, is not found in the individual parts that make up the whole, that’s what’s called ‘picture book’ stuff and sadly it is often performed in that same characteristic, staccato rhythm that is so beloved by some Wado practitioners, it’s really basic.

No, what is so interesting is that to make it meaningful and useful it forces you to engage with the dynamic.

A lot of that is dependent on the attacker. A klutz-like mechanical attack is no real challenge for the defender, and he will end up treating it as just another rather dull three-step and nobody gets anything out of it.

But this taps into what I mean by the mode of delivery rather than the content of the combined techniques.

Mode of delivery.

Some might say this is down to taste, or even subjectivity, but I disagree.

Let me pin it down and make it easy to see where I am coming from.

Basically, all too often, some of what I see as passing for Wado style karate appears clunky and overly heavy. For my taste, the thumping staccato rhythm is full of gaps where action just dies and then has to be restarted again, like a very primitive automobile engine, you can almost hear the pistons rise and fall, the energy sputters and coughs, but it roars like a monster. There’s the problem.

(There is a caveat though: Be wary of being seduced by ‘flow’. The action should contain within it miniscule interstices. ‘Flow’ suggests that once moving, an action cannot be swerved to respond to changing circumstances. It is a tiny point, but a very important one).

Power.

In our celebration of ‘power’ we mistake strain and hard labour as the benchmark of all that is effective in martial arts. I don’t buy that.

I have written in my most recent autobiographical piece about ‘effortless does not mean lack of effort’, instead it indicates the skill of the virtuoso, the apex of pure mastery. I will stick by that opinion.

I know why we run towards the direction of the appeal of pure muscular power; it’s because the assumption is that the other end of the spectrum is weak and ineffective.

From a martial arts perspective, we tend to find gracefulness, smoothness and economy of movement distasteful, discordant and even effete.

Though we do celebrate speed, almost as a separate entity. I find that odd, as real speed comes from movement that is sparse, trimmed and devoid of extraneous movement or wasted energy. This is the opposite of clunky and heavy.

In Wado, if you are trying too hard, then something is clearly amiss.

Examples

From Wado, the examples that I am thinking of can’t really be found on any Internet clips (there was one, but it disappeared). I have seen clips in private sources that show something of what I am talking about, but I have a picture in my head, that for me sums it up nicely. However, I am going to steer away from appearing too partisan and mentioning names.

But, away from Wado, but clearly within Japanese Budo/Bujutsu, I would direct the reader towards anything by the late Kuroda Tetsuzan. Pretty much any clip of Kuroda Sensei has something for the less-discerning, and for those with a refined eye. But again, don’t be seduced by content or technique; look instead at the supreme confidence, pure economy and lightning speed at what the great master does. It’s the style of delivery, the simplicity, the flawless organisation of his structure, and all of it appearing ‘effortless’. (there it is, that word again).

There are other examples where the magic is really difficult to see – I am thinking of the many films of Ueshiba Morihei, founder of Aikido. It looks fake, but I have never heard any expert call it out as such… because they know that this is technique beyond form. Looking at what he is doing and attempting to explain it is like trying to present a diagram of how the wind moves through a forest. Ueshiba’s technique is a world of pure energy, of vortices, tangents, and managing vectors, all happening while in (appropriate and controlled) flow. Aikido expert George Ledyard, in a recent online discussion said that although Aikido had been around in the USA over fifty years now, with some of the best instructors in the world, still, nobody can do what Ueshiba did!

In conclusion, to quote the song title from the 80’s by Fun Boy Three and Bananarama; ‘It ain’t what you do, it’s the way that you do it’ (‘and that’s what gets results’).

1. I am very wary of confusing formal paired kata with the more direct fighting drills, or free-form exchanges of technique. I use the paired kata for my example because (a) they are common ground for Wado stylists and (b) the flow of technique, even in a prescribed format helps to illustrate the points I am trying to make.