creativity, bound flow & the concept of shu-ha-ri in kata

7/27/2019 Creativity, Bound Flow & the Concept of Shu-ha-ri in Kata

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Creativity, Bound Flow & The Concept of Shu-Ha-RiIn Kata

By Deborah Klens-Bigman, Ph.D.

One of the questions that often comes up with regard tomy studies in iaido (the art of drawing the sword) andNihon buyo (Japanese classical dance) is whether there isany element of creativity involved in these very traditionalart forms which feature highly stylized timing andmovement. Both are based on the study of kata, usuallytranslated in the West as "form." However, the Englishword "form" does not begin to explain the complexity ofwhat kata actually is. Kata, especially in non-sport martialarts, are patterns of movement which embody techniquesand stylistic elements of a particular art form. Some oldermartial arts forms consist almost entirely of kata, withlittle "freestyle" movement.

Kata has been a traditional tool for teaching martial arts inJapan for centuries and is also prevalent throughout Japanese traditional arts including,but in no way limited to, flower arranging, tea, traditional Japanese dance, and the kabukiand noh theaters.

This article is in part entitled "bound flow" so as to be able to draw on the insights ofRudolph Laban (1879-1958), a pioneer in movement analysis. Laban developed a systemthat could be used, he hoped, for all observable movement. Eventually, his"Labanotation" was used extensively for dance and choreography (1). "Flow" was one ofLaban's elements of analysis. It is defined as motion produced by a single effort, or

impulse to move, but which can be variously bound, or controlled, depending on itsfunction. Laban felt that more tightly bound flow is more task-oriented and is associatedwith labor. Less "bound," or freer flowing movement is associated with emotionalexpression, that is, with more creative impulses. At its most "bound," there is no visiblemovement at all.

"Bound flow" refers to movement which is held in check by certain parameters, forexample ballet or other highly codified choreography. Since I study both martial arts andJapanese classical dance, "bound flow" has a great deal of significance for me. To theuntrained eye, both iaido and Japanese classical dance forms look much more "bound,"than "flowing," or you might say, more like work than self-expression.

To be able to discuss creativity and how it relates to expression of both martial arts and

other Japanese arts, it is useful to examine research in this subject. The "ura" (or hidden)meaning of my using "bound flow" in the title of this paper has to do with the works ofpsychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, whose most recent book, "Creativity" (1996),provides some theoretical underpinnings for discussion.

"Creativity" examines the achievements and characteristics of highly creative people,"with a capital C" -- those who came up with some innovative technique or strategy thatis recognized within a particular domain of study, and is further recognized by what the


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author refers to as "the field", that is, already recognized experts in a particular area. Thisnew discovery or approach then changes the domain of study from that point on. Thestudy was based on interviews of a spectrum of well known scientists, business people,artists and writers, including several Nobel Prize winners.

While there are problems applying this criteria to indigenous Asian art forms, there are

nevertheless at least some facile similarities that can be suggested with regard to somekoryu (pre-17th century) martial arts which still exist today.

Csikszentmihalyi notes that "creative with a capital C"individuals are not contained in vacuums. Withoutexception, all of his interview subjects are steeped in theirchosen domain of study, and have spent many hourstraining in it. The archetypal founder of a koryu is usuallydepicted as a seasoned warrior who spends several days orweeks in a Shinto shrine or other sacred place, withoutfood or water, deep in meditation. At the end of his ordeal,he emerges in possession of a divine vision of what the

new art form should be. He thereafter spends yearsrefining and perfecting his system. Only after this periodof development is it passed on to a small group ofdisciples. These subsequent teachers add their owninsights, some occasionally developing new stylesaltogether, others evolving and preserving the founder's artform through successive generations.

In spite of obvious cultural differences, this archetypal story of a ryuha founder actuallyfits into Csikszentmihalyi's definition of domain-changing creative individuals, andfurnishes a basis for considering martial arts as the product of creativity with a capital C.So important is the story of the divinely-inspired founder, many more modern martial art

forms have also adapted this story. In modern media involving popular interpretations ofmartial arts, the "inspired founder" is reincarnated as an inspiring teacher, for example,Pat Morita's character in the Karate Kid movies, or even Splinter, the rat-teacher of theTeenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

However, this still brings me back to my original question: how does one determine theway in which creativity fits in with the performance of martial arts kata? What does thatperformance have to do with flow, bound or otherwise?

First, we should look at kata as the building block of training. While the origins of kataare unknown, its method of training involves meticulously following a teacher in theexact movements that make up the kata. Generally speaking, martial arts kata involvescenaria of attack and defense, though they are often expanded by arrangement into

longer sequences of attacks and defenses from the front, back, and both sides. Studentsendlessly repeat the movements, over and over, subject to correction by the teacher andsenior students. There is nothing magical about the endless repetition of kata practice - itreally IS endless repetition. Many more traditional teachers rarely, if ever, offerexplanation for what's being done, and are unlikely to let a student progress until certainkata are memorized to their satisfaction, a process that can take years.


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From the point view ofsomeone not involved in akata-oriented tradition, thismethod of learning seemshighly formalized,codified, rigid, and dull.Many Western scholarswriting about Japanese artforms have expressed theiradmiration for the fact thatsuch highly formalized artforms like kabuki can still be entertaining (though somewriters actually find kabuki performance just as rigid andnon-creative as the training). Personally, however, I findmany traditional Japanese art forms compelling, theatrical,and very powerful. Given the formal rigidity of kata, how

can this be?

To consider some of the deeper functions and meanings of kata, I would like to rely onmy experience in iaido, the art of drawing the sword. As in kabuki and Japanese classicaldance, training for this particular martial art is primarily through kata, since it is difficultto spar with a sword. The high level of respect accorded to swords in Japan as well as theextremely dangerous nature of the weapon and techniques being learned make theformality of kata for iaido a compelling necessity. Iaido kata make up not only thelearning process of the art form but the content of it as well.

In this case kata practice teaches technique, strategy, and perhaps, after many years ofpractice, the underlying principles of iaido. By "underlying principles," I mean the logicof the movement - why the hardworking and divinely inspired developers of the ryuha(school or tradition of teaching) decided to do it THIS way and not THAT way.

On the face of it, one might assume that the study of iaidowould contribute hugely to an argument for rigidity andlack of creativity. Fuel for this argument can be readilyobtained in the way many people, both in Japan and theUS, currently practice the art form. Emphasis isrelentlessly placed on correcting the smallest details ofkata, and larger principles seem to be devalued. However,this is not really the case. After many years of imitatingteachers and senior students, practitioners are eventuallyable to move beyond, or through, technique. All thetechnical aspects of the kata are still intact and can be seenby observers, but the way in which the kata is performedbecomes highly individualized. In our Dojo, we refer to

this as "owning the kata." Iaido then goes from being "about as much fun as watchingpaint dry," as one observer of junior students put it, to an art form that is both beautifuland somewhat daring in its execution (Prough 1996).

The Japanese explanation for this progression is "shu-ha-ri." "Shu" means conservative,sometimes interpreted as "tradition" -- the period in which one learns all the kata


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pertaining to the style by heart. "Ha" means "break," and is often referred to as "breakingwith tradition," but I think this is incorrect. Instead, I think "ha" means "breaking throughthe technique" by actually evolving through it rather than discarding it. "Ri" means"freedom": a state in which the techniques become so embedded in the practitioner thatthey can be expressed in free-flowing movement. In other words, the beginner is totallyimmersed in Laban's workman-like bound flow process of learning kata, and eventuallymoves beyond it to the much less bound flow process of the expert practitioner, evercloser to the creative flow experience.

Shu-ha-ri takes a lifetime. My teacher, Yoshiteru Otani (1998), says each phase takes 10to 15 years to complete. So, with diligent practice, it takes 20 to 30 years to reach Ri, andthen, only with some luck. Many practitioners give up out of boredom or frustrationbefore reaching this state, and some, though they practice and practice, never achieve it.On the other hand, technique learned through kata moving through the process of shu-ha-ri can potentially become a springboard for creativity.

In this way, iaido training is similar to both Japanese classical dance and kabuki. Onedancer with whom I recently spoke suggested that kata is like the Tardis, the phone

booth/time travel machine of Dr. Who (I would have suggested Valantino's tent in Son ofthe Sheik) - it looks small and confined on the outside, but it's endlessly large on theinside (Moss 1998 n.p.).

Therefore, when someone tells me that he was bored at a traditional (that is, a non-sport)martial art demonstration, I tell them with some confidence "what you saw was probablynot very good," or, else "They were probably beginners;" that is, the practitioners werestuck in shu, a state that has interest for them, but for no one else. In the hands of amaster, for example Shibata Kanjuro in kyudo, Nakayama Hakudo in iaido, or even myown teacher, Otani Yoshiteru, these very formalized art forms take on life andexpressiveness.

Why is kata uniquely suited to these art forms? Why don't people learn as well from

technique drills, or from videotape? An argument can be made that kata practice as ateaching method became popular because it acted as a physical encyclopedia, preservingthe form from the teachers' to the students' bodies over generations. With the advent ofvideotape and CD-ROM disks, its use seems less important now that these forms ofrecording or reproducing movement are available. But this is not the case. In fact, anexperienced practitioner can easily pick out the student who has studied from videotapewithout benefit of a master teacher (2). In contrast, kata practice, with a live teacher,provides a progressive form of "deep learning" which does not seem to be attainable inany other way. Endless repetition in striving to replicate exactly what the teacher is doing,in all its variations, deeply imbeds not only that technique of the art form being learned,but also builds the meaning of the movement being done.

The martial arts student is learning not just the content of the curriculum of the style butalso the tactics, techniques, and hopefully the underlying principles that make up theparticular style of martial art form he or she is studying. Shu-ha-ri is often described ascircular, but I think "spiral" might be more accurate: in the beginning, the student'smovements are awkward and express nothing so much as his physical self with what hehas initially brought in terms of experience to the dojo, to the stage where he becomesexpert at imitating his teachers and seniors, to the point where he can once again expresshimself through this new, codified movement. In terms of the spiral, the student is


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crossing that point where she began, but unlike the circle, she crosses it at a higher level.(3) In the Laban sense, though still bound, the flow of movement becomes freer and moreexpressive, approaching the Csikszentmihalyi definition of creative flow.

There is simply no way drilling in abstract techniques and sparring for martial arts tocreate a similar result, though this type of training is considered "more efficient." We are

already seeing this in highly sportified forms, where tournament results take precedenceover any form of deep learning. The result is legions of students, which is to say quantity,who really have no idea what they're actually doing. This may mean income for theteacher for the present, and the loss of the art form further down the road, as peopletrained in this method lack the depth imparted by kata training and become bored as aresult.

For us mere mortals, Csikszentmihalyi concludes "Creativity," by suggesting ways for usto become more creative in our daily lives. He notes that individuals who make time forcreative activity, learn to focus, strive to stay disciplined and find a direction to channelfocused energy can enrich themselves by being more creative. Dedicated martial artists(or artists of any kind) fit this definition very well.

A few extraordinary and innovative martial artists have founded or modernized their arts-- Kano Jigoro (judo), Ueshiba Morihei (aikido), Nakayama Hakudo (iaido) andFunakoshi Gichin (karate-do). Each could be said to have changed his area of study forposterity, and impressed the field, that is, leading teachers, if not in their lifetimes, thencertainly afterward. Each was first "deeply steeped in their discipline(s)" of study beforethey took a unique approach to a situation: how to preserve and perpetuate martial arts ina rapidly modernizing and increasingly forgetful world.

Notes

1- Laban divided movement into four elements: weight, space, time and flow, throughwhich he felt virtually every movement could be recorded on paper. Flow, it should benoted, is affiliated with, but separate from, rhythm (beats distinguished by an interval ofrest). Pioneering anthropologist Franz Boaz employed a ballerina trained in the method torecord movements of work and play of Native American tribes of the Pacific Northwest,though one of the problems with the method is interpretive; i.e. different cultures don'tnecessarily assign the same values to the elements Laban uses for analysis. Labanotationwas also expanded to recording everyday movement and folk dances of peoples aroundthe world. Laban's system of notation was (and still is) used mostly to record dance andchoreography.

2- Video tape learning is problematic at best. For one thing, the practitioners are seen in

miniature and subtleties of movement cannot be recorded by the speed of the camera. Thestudent who uses tape is also often at a loss when the practitioner turns away from thecamera if other angles are not seen. Another problem is the tape is exactly the same, andany depth the living practitioner may have is flattened out. Movements and their originare easily misinterpreted or missed altogether. Perhaps most importantly, the life span ofvideos or even CD-ROM are limited; videos by the instability of the recording mediumitself, and CD's by the constantly changing technology which makes accessibility aproblem after a short span of time. Therefore, individuals who feel they are able to master


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a set of movements in part because they "have it on tap" are making a mistake on anumber of levels.

3-I am indebted to Margaret Thompson Drewal (1992) for the concept of the spiral, ratherthan a circle, in describing repetition of actions over time.

Bibliography

Csikszentmiahlyi, Mihaly1996: Creativity: Flow and the psychology of discovery andinvention (New York: Harper Perennial).

Drewal, Margaret Thompson1992: Yoruba Ritual: Performers, Play, Agency(Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press).

Friday, Karl1998: Personal communication

Laban, Rudolf1988: The Mastery of Movement (Plymouth, UK: Northcote House).

Moss, Helen E.1998: Personal communication

Otani Yoshiteru1998: Interview with the author.

Prough, John1996: The Iaido Newsletter (Toronto: Sei do kai Pub.).

About The Author:

Deborah Klens-Bigman is Manager and Associate Instructor of iaido at New YorkBudokai in New York City. She has also studied, to varying extents, kendo, jodo (shortstaff), kyudo (archery) and naginata (halberd). She received her Ph.D in 1995 from NewYork University's Department of Performance Studies where she wrote her dissertationon Japanese classical dance (Nihon Buyo). and she continues to study Nihon Buyo withFujima Nishiki at the Ichifuji-kai Dance Association. Her article on the application ofperformance theory to Japanese martial arts appeared in the Journal of Asian Martial Arts

in the summer of 1999. She is married to artist Vernon Bigman.

creativity, bound flow & the concept of shu-ha-ri in kata

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