3 Outlaw Samurai

3 Outlaw Samurai: Kikyo (Mikijiro Hira), Shiba, (Tetsuro Tamba), Sakura (Isamu Nagato) 

(N.B. I have written the names in this blog English style (surnames last) as actors' and directors' names are most familiar in this format).

    Although it was directed by the famous Hideo Gosha (his first film, in fact) this film is one that had passed me by until quite recently. But having seen it, I strongly recommend it – it may be a bit less dense than many of the films in the genre, and it certainly rattles along at a fine pace, but these are features that make it very watchable. Filmed in 1964, you may have seen Tetsuro Tamba in You Only Live Twice as Tiger Tanaka of the Japanese Secret Service, and if you were a Water Margin fan in 70’s Britain, you will recognise Isamu Nagato as a similar character, Lu Ta, the flower priest. (Tamba also appeared in the same series, although not in a major role). 

    In fact, it was filmed as an origin story for the successful TV series of the same name that started the previous year and ran till 1969. Hideo Gosha was the director of the TV series, so this gave home the chance to go to town with his characters. It might be worth mentioning that Sanbiki uses the counter for animals, rather than people. (The Seven Samurai is Shichinin no Samurai, with nin being the counter for people). Of course, this emphasizes the lawlessness of the 3 protagonists. But on to the story.

    

Shots like this show Gosha's skill at framing action.

    It’s a classic story of the loner fighting on behalf of the oppressed against a corrupt system, although, as the title suggests, there are three loners rather than one, and the scenario is not explored in great detail - it is only a pretext for the action and a gradual revealing of the three protagonists’ individual characters. Perhaps it was this mix of characters that helped its popularity the small screen, where it ran as a series for a number of years (1964-69).

    It draws from what was becoming a popular genre, both on the large and small screen (and , indeed, in literature) – better known films in a similar key such as Yojimbo (1961) and Zatoichi (1962) preceded it, and it has something of the same feel, combining elements from both - compassion, sentimentality, justice, not to mention the cool calculation of heroes like Ichikawa Raizo’s Nemuri Kyoshiro in the series of the same name. Nevertheless, it stands on its own merits.

Another shot showing Gosha's skill at composition.

    In common with several,other films of this period, it both supports and subverts the image of the samurai as a heroic warrior. The three heroes each have their own code of ethics, but many of those around them, the system, so to speak. These men are outcasts, in part, because of their refusal to bend to a system that fails to recognise the importance of the softer virtues to temper the bald use of power. The growth of a new Japan, as well as memories of the war, obviously played into these kinds of attitudes, and though it champions the underdog, it also highlights the complicity of the ruled in their situation.

    However, rather than offer homilies, it invites the viewer to observe, then with a shrug of its shoulders, continues on its way, as indeed, do the heroes.

The heroes walk off, content to let fate lead them.

    If you enjoy early Kurosawa, or the Zatoichi series, you’ll love this, too.

    For context, here are the release dates of some other relevant films:

7 Samurai 1954

Yojimbo 1961

Zatoichi 1962

Sanbiki no Samurai 1964

Sanbiki no Samurai Tv series 1963-69

Nemuri Kyoshiro (film series starring Ichikawa Raizo) 1963-1969

Musashi's lost sumo wrestlers

 

A detail of the sumo scene attributed to Musashi - I must admit 
that I thought it was an "oni" at first.

I started out writing this blog thinking that I would simply introduce one of Miyamoto Musashi’s little known artworks – and in this case, it is, in fact, a lost artwork – but as it went on, it became clear that it would require rather more explanation than I had at first thought.

Not least of the problems is that the remaining images of this work (destroyed in a fire in 1984) are so poor in quality that any definitive judgement is difficult to make. Nevertheless, I think it’s worth a look.

Background

Miyamoto Musashi is, of course, well known for his painting as well as his skills with the sword. As regular readers will know, I am interested in both aspects, and the intersection between the two. His most famous works include his depiction of a shrike sitting watchfully on a dead branch and his paintings of Bodhidharma, and in both of these, we can see something of the concentration and intensity he must have brought to his martial arts. 

Musashi was nothing if not versatile, and he turned his hand to a number of themes, some of which are rarely seen or little known, especially in the English-speaking world.

One such theme has a far closer relationship to combat than most, and as I could find no mention of it at all in English, I thought it might be interesting to take a closer look at his (attributed) painting of sumo wrestlers – an unlikely subject, perhaps, but this was an ema, a votive tablet, that Musashi had painted when he was a guest of one Oka Heijuro (岡平十郎), at the Ogo Kannon-do temple in Aioi City, Hyogo Prefecture.)

The better of the two reproductions of the painting attributed to Musashi.

It is worth noting that although it is attributed to Musashi, it is by no means certain that he painted it. While the possibility is there, there are a few problems.

First, the dates don’t quite match up - Oka, a direct descendant of the monk Gyōan who had built the temple in the C12^th, had rebuilt the main hall of the temple (destroyed by fire in the C14^th) after he had been cured of a serious eye disease by following the directions of the temple’s deity, but this wasn’t until several years after Musashi’s death. Oga is described as a domori, a temple guardian or caretaker, who funded the rebuilding, so it seems he was a man of means, and might have hosted Musashi at an earlier date. Such disparities, however, are always something of a red flag.

In any case, so the story goes, Musashi painted the votive plaque out of thanks for the hospitality he received. It was quite large - 1.2m x 0.8m, and painted on a zelkova wood panel – a painting this size suggests Oka was a generous host.

The first, legendary sumo bout by Takeishi Keisho (1885) (Courtesy of the JSA)

Theme

The subject was the contest between Nomi no Sukune and Taima no Kehaya – the original sumo bout, (July 7th, 7th year of the legendary Emperor Suinin's reign – 22BCE) in which Taima lost his life. Nomi no Sukune is also credited with ending human sacrifice by making ceramic figures to be buried in tombs, so there is a thematic connection between him and ema, which seem – originally – to have been offerings to shrines in place of horses. Horses were not sacrificed, but they had sacred connections. However, stabling such gifts put a financial strain on shrines, so painted depictions of horses (ema) became a preferred offering.

Not surprisingly, the most common motif of these votive plaques was originally horses, but by the late Muromachi, other themes, became more common, as did increasingly large ema, some of which were produced by famous artists such as those of the Kano school. 

Muromachi period ema from the Kano school

There is one interesting example of an ema that is associated with Oishi Kuranosuke, leader of the 47 Ronin, that is tentatively dated to the Tenna era (1681-89) and shows a similar degree of deterioration to wrestler piece. Interestingly, although the colours have worn off in places, the ink strokes may be clearly seen. Though much of the dedication can no longer be read, it bears Oishi's name, suggesting that he donated it. 

This is a detail of the ema connected to Oishi Kuranosuke
(leader of the 47 ronin) showing the head of Hotei. It's difficult
to make out – Hotei's right eye is roughly in the centre of the
painting.

Although the wrestlers would be an unusual motif, it is possible that it was painted by Musashi.

Style

The deterioration makes it difficult to judge on stylistic grounds. The figures are, in some ways, relatively primitive, but the joint pose of the two figures is very similar to an Ukiyo-e print produced some 200 years after Musashi's time, suggesting that the motif may have been drawn from such a source. This, would, of course make it a much later work. Depictions of sumo wrestlers seem to be rare before the 1800s, and figure paintings generally show less bombast than the Ukiyo-e works by artists such as Hokusai and Kuniyoshi. However, ema are an exception, and there are examples of more dynamic figures in that tradition. Having said that, many, if not most, ema that feature dynamic human figures filling the frame seem to date from the 1800’s, such as this example by Kano Hogai (around the late 1840’s).

Kano Hogai - Takeuchi no Sukune casting jewels

A closer look at the painting 

Note the left arms of the two figures in this reproduction.

There are a couple of other things worth noting about this image. Despite the poor quality of the photographs, it is possible to see there are some differences between the two. In one of them, some of the lines seem to have been retouched or overdrawn. The left arm, in particular, seems to show this. In the two details above, you can see the faces look slightly different – in particular, the eyes appear to be in slightly different positions, with one looking up towards the other wrestler (with the left eye looking in the same direction), and the other, out towards the viewer (with the left eye obscured).

The nature of paintings on wood means that as they deteriorate, different aspects of the underpainting are revealed, so some parts that look particularly pale in the photograph may have been dark originally. The wrestler on the right seems to have bug eyes, but this is a result of deterioration of the paint surface and the underpainting showing through, while the face of the wrestler on the left is very unclear in both photographs.

Who is winning? That is another question. Below is a detail of an Edo period print by Utagawa Yoshitora which is very similar in some respects, although the position of the right arm and left leg is different. The figure on the left is more dynamic in the painting, and the outstretched hand looks as if he is poised for a strike, having used his left leg to prevent his opponent's attempted throw. It looks as if he is in position for a winning move.

Kawazu gake. the figure on the right is almost exactly
the same last the Musashi ema.

The print shows the technique known as kawazu gake, where the wrestler on the right applies a leg entanglement. This is part of a move that then uses a lean of the body to throw the opponent (though in this case, it looks to be a counter to an attempted throw). This throw is not often seen in sumo - it is difficult to apply - and though it exists in judo, it is illegal because of the potential damage to the opponent's knee.

This is the print from which the detail is taken.
Kawazu gake is illustrated in the top right corner of this print

To get an idea of what it would have looked like in its prime, we can look at surviving pictures and prints of wrestlers. There are a few dating from around Musashi's time, perhaps the most well-known being the Sumo Yurakuzu Byobu (Yurakuzu is a genre depicting various recreations – here, sumo), which is famous for featuring a black wrestler. 

There are a few other paintings from around this time (and a bit later), but as a genre, depictions of sumo did not become common until the ukiyo-e prints of the 1800s. It is there that we can see the characteristics that are most familiar, and these stylized images are certainly vigorous and visually arresting, with the figures forming the greater part of the composition. By contrast, early figure paintings tend to feature figures as part of a scene, and often quite a small part.

A typical ukiyo-e scene (by Utagawa Kuniyoshi) which shows  
more stylised, dynamic wrestlers.

In this case, the Musashi picture falls somewhere between the two. Its poor condition makes it difficult to make any hard and fast judgements about its authenticity, but stylistically, the indications point towards a later date. 

So is this really a Musashi painting? We can't tell for sure, especially now that it has been destroyed. As an ema, it is in a category sufficiently different from Musashi's other paintings that the dissimilarity does not disqualify it from being his. At the same time, the depiction of the figures, particularly the similarity to a later ukiyo-e print, does raise questions. It remains an interesting and little known possibility.

Kiaijutsu II – explanation and interpretation

We'll be meeting this concept later – the painting is by the famous Zen painter, Sengai

An Introduction to Kiaijutsu

Kiaijutsu is an odd sort of art, and the name, which creates instant associations with kiai – the shout that is emblematic of arts such as karate – is itself misleading. It suggests that this is a structured, organised discipline, one that can be taught and learned, much as other martial arts that have come down to us in one form or another from Japan’s feudal period.

There seems to be little evidence for this. Instead, I would argue, it is a descriptive term for the kind of power that comes from an individual’s personality, their charisma, strength of purpose, imperturbability – a multitude of inexact and difficult to quantify factors filtered through the perceptions of early 20^th century Japan, that give a person influence or control over a situation. 

Given the broadness of such a description, it follows that we might all, perhaps, practise the rudiments of kiaijutsu. Historically, however, mentions of kiaijutsu and related phenomena seem to have been rooted in martial disciplines, and particularly closely related to the area described as shinpo (roughly ‘mental techniques’).

Kiaijutsu was introduced to the broader public at a time when society in Japan was changing. The military arts, which had been taught in specific contexts in the society, found themselves untethered. The new popularisers of these arts were, nonetheless, strongly aware of the importance of the bonds of civil society, and their writings show this. Kiaijutsu was an art that could be used as a civilian, in times of emergency or great need, but underlying it all was the injunction to use it responsibly.

Kiaijutsu in Early Published Works

There were several books written for the general public (i.e. not for members of martial arts schools) round about the time of Harrison’s work that deal with kiaijutsu or related concepts. Here are just a couple that I have briefly looked at – the themes don’t seem so very different from what you might find today.

Kiaijutsu Sakkatsu Jizai (1911) - this is where the text of Harrison’s verses originally appeared. It is a book length essay elaborating on the nature of kiaijutsu, making much use of anecdotes and quite woolly explanations. It seems likely that this was part of a general trend to promote the warrior ideals in the service of nationalism (quoting the then Emperor’s insight in a poem is one example of this).

The inclusion of verses from other sources adds another layer, but we are none the wiser as to their origins. An example is a brief section titled The Inner Secrets of Kiaijutsu (which seems to come from an older school of martial arts):

Kiai is like grasping the wind in an instant;

Halt your steps and trust your nose. 

There, in that place, think of neither victory nor defeat, but with an immovable spirit

 move with total freedom. 

 

It goes on to explain the importance maintaining a calm exterior yet acting with determination when the occasion demands, using the square, circle and triangle – symbolism that is well-known for its connection with aikido – although this description is very different.

The work as a whole implies that the spiritual strength of one person can overcome or control that of another.

Sakkatsu Jizai Shosei Zen (1916) - explains the application of Zen teachings to everyday life, particularly when on is involved in difficult and stressful situations. Note the use of ‘Sakkatsu Jizai’ in the title. This is referred to as a spiritual state where one acts freely according to the situation.

Sokuseki Katsuyo Ninjutsu Kiaijutsu Hiden (1917) - Secret Teachings of Instant Ninjutsu Kiaijutsu - I haven’t read much of this, but as the title suggests, it seems to be a kind of do-it-yourself manual of mental techniques with a focus on ‘invisibility’.

It is worth noting that the most famous proponent of kiaijutsu around this time was the hugely successful faith healer, Hamaguchi Yugaku (1878-1943). He was often in the newspapers and the authorities, suspicious of unsanctioned faith-based activities, brought a number of legal cases against him (most of which he won).  He had the support of a number of notable figures of the day, of whom you will most likely recognise Hideki Tojo, and amassed a sizable fortune. It seems he used a form of kujikiri and kiaijutsu to cure a range of maladies, and, in particular, pull teeth. 

Hamaguchi Yugaku

 

What is it, then?

Although the term kiai is mostly used in the context of the voice – shouts can be used in combat to add strength to strikes or locks at key moments or to momentarily distract the opponent, for example – there is more to kiaijutsu than this. Kiai is about the use and control of your ‘energy’ to affect other people and situations. As to what this energy is – well, there are several schools of thought on this. It is sometimes talked about in semi-mystical terms, with lots of admonitions to breathe into the lower abdomen, strengthen the hara and develop ki. I’m afraid, I always found such explanations left too much unsaid. In practical terms, I think it is more useful to see talk about breathing as shorthand for something less subtle – the development and use of the core and other related muscles of the torso, something that is key to ‘internal arts’ across the board.

In terms of affecting and controlling other people and situations, kiai is even broader, including what we might identify as (or closely associate with) personality and character (traits such as courage, charisma, determination), movement, voice, facial expression, timing, and initiative, as well as sensitivity to the environment.

What ties it all together is a sense that all of these (and more besides) are connected in some way with the physical hara. It is through development of the hara, and learning how to use it, that these more uncommon abilities are fostered.

Frank Miller cover for one of the 1980's English reprints of Lone Wolf and Cub

The Revelations of Kiaijutsu (from The Fighting Arts of Japan)

Early 20^th century writings on kiaijutsu, stress the importance of the subconscious in the application of kiai – it springs into action instantaneously – and much of the writing seems influenced by Zen, sometimes explicitly so.  

The Revelations of Kiaijutsu is certainly one example of this Zen influence.

So without much more ado – just to remind you that these are the verses presented by Harrison in his book, The Fighting Arts of Japan (more about this in part 1 of this limited kiaijutsu series), let’s see what they might mean.

 

Interpretation

I have added amendments or notes after Harrison’s translation, either for clarification or where an alternative translation might be appropriate.

I have no parents; I make the heavens and the earth my parents.

We have to ask ourselves what having parents would mean applied to an art like kiaijutsu. I believe it indicates the biases and habits we develop (and are taught) through our upbringing. If we turn it another way, we could read it as ‘I have no prejudices’, or ‘I learn from any source without prejudice’. In the martial arts, there are all kinds of prejudices, (not all of them bad), and I think comparatively few of us could say, hand on heart, I have no prejudices – myself included, of course.

 

I have no home; I make saika tanden my home. (Harrison misspelt this – it should be seika tanden)

Home is a sense of belonging. While this is a good thing in itself, losing it may create a sense of unease, and a loss of mental or emotional balance. I make the seika tanden my home is the determination to remain centred, with your thoughts on where you are. In more mundane terms, you might say, I don’t get homesick.

I have neither life nor death; I make a um my life and death. ->I have no (thoughts of/attachment to) life and death

This sounds like a Zen-like acceptance of whatever might happen, but I think it requires a more careful interpretation. I see it as another facet of centring, life and death being the rise and fall of our emotions as we go about our lives – getting excited about one thing, then seeing our enthusiasm or interest die. Stability is seeing ‘good’ and ‘bad’ situations without allowing them to drive our moods. 

A – um also suggest the natural rhythms of our bodies, the most obvious of which is breathing.

I have no divine power; I make honesty my divine power. (honesty/integrity)

I have no means; I make docility my means. (Note the characters used contain the ju of jujutsu and judo, and we know that the ‘gentleness’ of these arts is quite a specific use of that term)
I have no magic power; I make personality my magic power. (perhaps character is better than personality)

These three are closely related – they all refer to power of some sort from outside, something that is not your own. The pairings are, perhaps, a little surprising, but at least two of them (integrity and character seem to make obvious sense). The replacement of means with gentleness may need some consideration.

Means can be taken to refer to economic power, but also has the sense of livelihood, and by extension the sense of identity tied up with occupation, and thus a certain rigidity to the way you deal with situations or relying on status as a means of influence. This is clearly a weakness in terms of kiaijutsu – it should be your strength of will that is the primary tool.

Given this, the use of gentleness suggests approaching a situation with sensitivity, seeing it for what it is, rather than imposing your own set of ideas. In modern terms, we might say: my livelihood is irrelevant because I don’t make use of it in this kind of situation. This is rather obvious in terms of practice in a dojo, but perhaps outside, we tend to believe our sense of who we are will automatically affect other people, rather than our actions.

I have no body; I make stoicism my body. (the text uses the term muga - selflessness)
I have no eyes; I make the flash of lightning my eyes. (Harrison leaves out the other metaphor that is included: ‘spark from the flint’)
I have no ears; I make sensibility my ears. (emotional response is probably a more easily understandable term these days – an interesting parallel is the verse quoted above that I translated as ‘trust your nose’. Literally it reads ‘listen carefully with your nose’.)
I have no limbs; I make promptitude my limbs. (Similar to the previous point, swiftness/speed might be clearer).

Though kiaijutsu has physical training as its base, it is more than that. These metaphors refer to specifically trained attributes but suggest it is the mind (or the sub-conscious), rather than physical techniques, that is key. It is important to remember that the mind is traditionally referred to as being located in the hara, rather that the brain. In more simplistic terms, we might term these items as examples of acting automatically. I assume ‘I make stoicism my body’ means ‘my body will do whatever I ask of it’.

 

Afterword

There is more, of course, but I think this is enough to get an idea of how I approached the text, and a fun little project it has been, too. As with all such writings (The Revelations of Kiaijutsu, I mean, not my own), it is possible to take them a little too seriously, and especially in this case, the way in which it crops up repeatedly says something about the attraction it seems to hold for those who admire the stoic image of the bushi without really thinking about what it means. 

There is value, I think, in trying to figure out what something means in practical terms, but it is also worth remembering that whoever wrote this had experiences and skills that might be very different from what we have experienced ourselves. 

On a general note, when it comes to technical issues, Chinese arts often have greater technical and theoretical depth, but a chance post I saw online the other day (which related the death of one of the early masters of the Yang Taiji style from a fit of rage) reminded me of the importance of emotional control, and it may be here that these verses have most value.

And Finally...

If you are interested in reading my noir mystery series set in pre-war Tokyo, you can get a free taster here, with a novella starring Lieutenant Oshima Kai before he was invalided out of the army. As you might imagine, you will find some martial arts, and much else besides. Book 3, Bitter Wind, will be out soon

Get Golden Spring, the free Oshima Tokyo Noir novella.