As I write this in early September 2024, it is six-and-a-half-years since I restarted aikido practice (at least at a serious / consistent level), but equally 30-years since I first discovered aikido. This multi-part article is in part about my personal journey from one style of aikido to another. It is in part about my personal battle with back problems – and age, and life, in general. It is in part about finding a way to keep training during the COVID pandemic and live beyond. Most of all, it is an acknowledgement, a show of my appreciation for all that have supported me in my study of the way of aiki.
Find the subsequent articles at https://www.westcumbriaaikido.com/blog/categories/club-news
Part 2 - My First Aikido Family
My first teacher (Geoff Flather Sensei) had boxing lessons at school (as was normal for boys in England in the 1940s / 50s) and first started oriental martial arts through the study of judo in the 1950s. This was about a decade before judo became an Olympic sport and at the time, judo practice represented an art that was possibly closer to ju jutsu compared to the modern form. He subsequently started training in Wado Ryu karate (whilst also practicing Shotokan karate, Goju Ryu karate, and various other martial arts including kung fu). In his mid-20s, in 1967, Geoff began studying aikido in the Northeast of England under Kazuo Chiba Sensei (and then with Kenetsuka Sensei), albeit for a relatively short amount of time. In 1979, having moved to the southwest of England, he then became a member of the recently formed Ki Federation of Great Britain practicing with Wasyl Kolesnikov Sensei in South Devon. Wasyl was under Ken Williams Sensei, the UK representative of Koichi Tohei Sensei, following Tohei’s resignation from the Aikikai in 1974.
Three years later in 1982, Wasyl separated from the Ki Federation, and Geoff went with him when he established the Kolesnikov School of Mind and Body Development and Aikido (KSMBDA). In 1987, five years later, a group of clubs in the Southwest of England decided to leave the KSMBDA, and Geoff with them, to form BHA.
Shortly after BHA was established, Geoff was invited to study with Tomio Otani Sensei, son of a Masutaro Otani. Masutaro had been born in Nagasaki, Japan, in 1896, just under 20 years after the Satsuma Rebellion, and arrived in the UK in 1919. He became known as a Japanese ju jitsu wrestler, and master sword maker. Masutaro married an English lady and their first son, Tomio, was born in September 1939.
Tomio Otani was taught the art of the Japanese sword and judo and ju jutsu from his father. He then studied aikido, kendo, iaido and kobudo under Kenshiro Abbe Sensei, a direct student of O-Sensei, and a prominent Japanese master of judo, aikido, and kendo who had arrived in the UK in 1955. Geoff trained with Tomio for three or so years, until Tomio passed away in June 1991.
At the point that I joined BHA in September 1994, the association was about 7-years old, Geoff was the technical director and he and his wife, Jacqui (1943-2016), had given up their jobs to be full time aikido teachers within BHA and to run the association dojo, a two floor, two mat area dojo in Exeter. Their teachings were firmly grounded in the mind and body coordination principles of Tohei Sensei of (i) ‘Keep One Point’; (ii) ‘Relax Completely’; (iii) ‘Keep weight Underside’; and (iv) ‘Extend Ki’. We practiced aiki taiso (body exercises for aikido), other exercises for coordination and health, kiatsu (‘ki massage’), ‘ki tests’ and ‘ki breathing’ as taught by Tohei Sensei. The tai jutsu syllabus was very much based on Tohei Sensei’s teaching system, albeit with the technical curriculum modified slightly from that used by the Ki Federation. Students practiced a ‘on the move’, a nagre form, from 3rd kyu. Overall, practice was dynamic and energetic with large movements of irmi and tankan, practiced for every attack-defence combination you could think of.
For senior kyu grades there was also secondary attacks, i.e., an initial grab would be followed by a kick or a punch or a fast elbow, empi, strike up under the chin. Getting off the line and responding quickly was essential otherwise you would get hit!
We also practiced Tohei Sensei’s taigis – each taigi a set of six specified techniques, performed quickly in sequence on the left and right to a defined attack, each set starting and finishing with a kneeling bow. They were physically demanding for the nage, exhausting for the uke! Our ‘anthem’ was “rolling, rolling, rolling, keep those ukes rolling…. raw hide!”. We would jump high over an outheld jo into a roll, we would do extended projection rolls, jumping over several people lying on the floor. We would do rolls with our arms crossed across our chest, we would do sideways rolls, we would do reverse facing forward rolls, we would do tight rolls on the spot. From standing we would drop back into a part roll, quickly pitching forward back into a standing position – we would do this again and again 30, 40, 50 times. Aerobic fitness was mandatory.
BHA considered itself a ki-style of aikido, but there was nothing ‘soft’ about practice. Kote gaeshi started with a simple projection throw of the uke backwards, but then quickly progressed through the kyu grades to sending the uke forward, whipping them around into a dynamic projection throw at 3rd kyu and by shodan compressing down powerfully on the wrist to drive uke straight down into the mat before flipping them over and finishing with a standing pin. Each kyu grade represented not just more techniques, but also different variants of that technique. We learnt multiple variants of nikyo and delighted in finding ‘squealers’, i.e., people who were particularly sensitive to the yonkyo pressure point on the inside of the wrist. In between yelps of pain, people laughed, we were having fun, everyone felt energised, everyone was careful and considerate, there was no aggression, serious injuries were (mostly) rare.
The lower kyu grades also had a self-defence section in their syllabus, ‘hazushi waza’, escape techniques. These were not ‘standard’ aikido techniques but were designed to give students some basic defence skills early on. They included things like dealing with a front or roundhouse kick, breaking out of holds, whether pinned to a wall, or on the ground, dealing with ‘bear hugs’, headlocks, chokes, even head butts. We practiced ‘ki nips’, small, but sharp and strong pinches onto the back of the upper arm or the back of the thigh that would cause the recipient to leap away in response to the sharp pain. With ‘ki extension’ we would extend the index finger, placing it in the base of the throat of our partner and push forward with our whole body, sending them back coughing and spluttering.
In terms of weapons work, Tohei Sensei’s eight-direction cutting exercise (happo giri) and 22-count jo kata were supplemented with the ‘Iwama’ weapons systems of Morihiro Saito Sensei, albeit interpreted through the lens of weapons teaching by Chiba Sensei and particularly that of Otani Sensei.
The bokken was a simulacrum for a katana, a shinken, a live blade. We had to learn the ‘anatomy’ of the katana, i.e., the component parts such as the ‘ha’ (edge), ‘hi’ (blood groove), nakago (tang), even the mekugi – the small bamboo peg that holds the tang of the blade in the handle.
When we cut, we would cast the blade out then draw back in at the bottom of the arc to maximise the slicing efficiency. Our sharp tipped bokkens would whistle through the air making a satisfying ‘swish’ sound. Class after class, the mantra was “cut, don’t chop, it is not an axe”. Iwama bokken suburi number 5 was the practice of a three-step guard-cut-guard movement. When practicing the Iwama bokken suburi numbers 6 and 7, we were careful to turn the blade, one way or the other, with a focus on a penetrating thrust of the razor sharp tip between the ribs of an imaginary opponent. As we stepped, we would diligently turn-out the front foot, adopting the classic aikido hanmi stance.
We also practiced the Otani Omori Ryu iaido katas, the family katas passed from Masutaro Otani to his son Tomio and then to Geoff. From seiza, with the bokken imagined as a sheathed sword on the left side of the belt, we would cut out rapidly, seeking to blind, or at least distract an imaginary opponent before striking forward with a killing blow. We learnt the classic iaido flick of the wrist, designed to shake blood off the blade. We also learnt the form of ritual assisted suicide (seppuku), of not just cutting the head off (with care and respect), but then extending the blade so that the blood could be washed off by an assistant before sheathing it.
Aikido was the way of harmony, but also the way of the sword, we saw no conflict in practicing the two forms together. Many students owned iaitos, in essence a blunt katana for iaido practice, and for the BHA shodan exam, you were expected to use an iaito for all the solo sword work. I couldn’t afford one, so I had to borrow one. Interestingly, the one and only time that I have ever used a steel sword blade.
In jo practice, in the initial suburi exercises involving a forward tsuki, we would diligently step off the line to avoid an imagined incoming thrust. Jo suburi of numbers 4 and 8 were described as thrust / strike forward, then strike to the knee of someone behind, then bari, sweeping, striking forward. We learnt the 13-count jo kata first, then the 22-count, then finally the 31-count kata. It made perfect sense to start with the shortform and work up to the longer form. New students were not allowed to do weapons work, and for them, summer camp in July in North Devon, was often the first time they got to practice the 13-count jo kata. Students then spent the rest of their summer break trying to master it, particularly the ‘twiddly-turny-bit’ of the fifth move in the 13-jo kata, the rotation with the hasso.
After regular weekday training, we would all head to the local pub, the Seymour Arms, and quaff pint after pint of whatever was the cheapest beer. In the summer term we would have group aikido trips to the beach or to Plymouth Hoe, a large and green open space in the city facing out to the sea. We would roll on sand, grass, even the road, we had no fear. They were, without a doubt, fun times!
Summers were quieter as all the undergraduate students had gone home. Luckily, there were enough post-grad students and local residents to keep the club running through the year and Geoff would diligently make the drive from Exeter to Plymouth several times a week to teach us. They were good times!
To be continued.
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