Eva Czapski: Learning the Japanese Art of Sumi-e

I painted this in October.

Painting from October.

For my CIP, I have been studying the Japanese art of Sumi-e– paintings done with Sumi ink and a calligraphy brush– in a small-group lesson with a Kyoto woman. Fujiwara Sensei is trained in Chinese ink painting but has been working in the Japanese style for the last decade. She hosts the lessons from her studio, which she shares with her husband who runs a kimono printing workshop upstairs.

When I attend the class most Wednesdays, I find myself in a circle of two to five older women who are extremely friendly, funny and talkative. None of them take the class or their painting hobby too seriously, yet most of them are incredibly talented. They use a combination of the black Sumi ink and pigmented watercolors to create vivid, professional-looking pieces. It’s so valuable to me, as an amateur artist who is new to the Sumi-e style, to have these Sempai classmates’ skill to aspire to. Fujiwara Sensei, of course, is a master of the art–not just when creating her own pieces, but even when assessing others’ work for its design or technique.

I painted this in November after visiting the garden of a Zen temple in Nagaokakyo.

Painting from November of a Zen garden.

Calligraphy brushes (fude) and ink stone (Sumi), the only two tools needed to create Sumi-e paintings. Just add water. (Image taken from http://www.juanaalmaguer.com/)

Calligraphy brushes (fude) and ink stone (Sumi), the only two tools needed to create Sumi-e paintings. Just add water. (Image taken from http://www.juanaalmaguer.com/)

There is much more technical training involved in learning Sumi-e than I had expected going into the classes. As with any of the Japanese “ways”–Sadou (tea ceremony), Shodou (calligraphy), and so on–there is a particular way to go about Sumi painting that does not leave much room for free interpretation. I think that as I grow as a Sumi-e artist I would like to be able to change some of these traditional standards in my own art, in order to create something that is individual and unique to the times and to my own ideas, but before I put my own spin on the ancient art, I must really master the techniques that my Sensei is teaching me now.The first thing I was taught, starting on the first day of class, was the vocabulary of terms central to the art. Particularly important are the names of the three elements necessary to every “complete” Sumi-e painting, each of which refers to a different way of combining the brush, ink, and water to create part of a picture. These terms are especially interesting to me because their dictionary meaning is very simple, but their connotation in the Sumi-e world is infinitely important. For example, “nou-dan” literally means “light-dark,” but it refers to the vital gradient between light and dark that is used in good Sumi-e work.
The other two main brushwork elements are “nuzume”–to spread or bleed–and “kassure”–to graze. A piece without all three of these features is considered to lack true atmosphere or flow; it merely depicts objects without showing their relationship to one another.

See the example below, which is a fall Sakura tree that I painted last week. The leaves together create the “nou-dan” gradient, while the trunk is an example of “kassure”. In order to incorporate “nuzume,” I added the blurry falling leaf to the right.

Painting from last week. The trunk is Kassure; the falling leaf is Nijime; and the leaves together create the nou-dan gradient.

kassure, nou-dan and nuzume.

I am still working on mastering these techniques, as well as the art in itself of layout and composition, but Fujiwara Sensei has been very helpful in that process and I am pleased with the work I’ve done so far. I am also glad that I have had so many chances to practice conversing in Japanese with the Sensei and my older classmates, on a wide range of topics from our artwork to our families to aspects of Japanese culture and tradition.

Jackie Oshiro: Aikido

As a full-year student, I had the opportunity to continue my CIP for the entirety of this school year, and although I had extensive experience with aikido prior to coming to Japan, this semester allowed me to practice in a way I had never experienced before. Last semester, I went to practice in the way that I was used to – after school in the evenings. This semester, however, that didn’t work quite as well with my class schedule and because my dojo offered it, I decided instead to go to practice in the morning before school.

If martial arts are supposed to be a way for you to train your discipline and self control, then it seems to me that early morning training will double your benefits. Not only do you have to discipline yourself in practice, but the very act of getting up before the sun in a frigid bedroom definitely ups your discipline as well. I’m not going to lie – although I enjoy practice and think of myself as a morning person, waking up and getting motivated to go to practice at 5:30 am was a real struggle. And yet, it seems to be a natural part of seriously practicing a martial art here. The people I saw in the morning were the same people who regularly attended evening classes and held the most responsibility in the dojo. And although aikido is clearly an important part of their lives, they also hold regular jobs and do things outside the dojo.

Back at home, in my experience at least, this sort of culture doesn’t really exist. You hear of people going to the gym or going for a jog in the early morning before work or students going to sports practice before school, but this sort of lifelong commitment to a practice that isn’t your work seems to be rather unheard of in America.  Again, I could be totally unaware of a significant portion of American society that contradicts my broad, sweeping statement, but perhaps it has to do with differences in societal values. I feel like maybe Americans might be reluctant to commit themselves to this type of strict practice because it would further limit their time at home, something that’s highly valued. Or maybe even that Japanese people and American people don’t see this type of training and its benefits in the same light.

Although there were times that I would definitely rather have slept in (and some times that I did), I’m incredibly grateful to have had this opportunity to take my practice to a new level.

Morgan Hearne: Kyudō

My time at Kyōto’s Budō Center learning from Kawaguchi-sensei was a great privilege. From gradually finding a better sense of balance when taking off my shoes before practice (though never a sense of grace), performing the correct form over and over again without complaint (in the cold, without feeling in toes or fingers), to releasing my first arrow, I have gained a lot from my CIP experience. Many of the things I have learned have been through nonverbal experiences, but nevertheless I believe they certainly say much about the process of studying a Japanese cultural art form.

To shoot or not to shoot— this depends on what I would call the Kyudō Trifecta: Respect, Discipline, and Patience. My observations point to these three values as key in determining your success in studying kyudō.

Every practice began and ended with formal aisatsu, which consisted of waiting for and greeting sensei when she became free, and respectfully expressing our appreciation for her guidance in zarei (seated bow position). Only after completing aisatsu could we retrieve our equipment or take our leave. At the same time, there was not a strict, tense atmosphere like I imagined there would be. Rather, while taking practice seriously, the older students often joked with sensei, who also often displayed a dry sense of humor. I think it was because a high level of respect already existed between students and teacher, as shown through aisatsu at the beginning and end of practice, that this kind of warm atmosphere could be created. The importance of respect feeds into the other two pillars of the Kyudō Trifecta as well.

In practicing the same form endlessly, respecting the subtleties between each step, and keeping both the mind and body focused in silence takes, as you can imagine, great discipline. In my mind, this was an area of particular importance in which to succeed because I have always imagined it as (besides a general area of weakness in myself) an area of weakness in those not socialized into Japanese culture. Because sensei was often busy helping a number of students, practicing in silence while learning as much as possible from older students was vital. Without saying anything, experienced students would generously hop in front of us to practice and let us take careful note of their form. I really appreciated the sense of camaraderie created because students knew the difficulty and importance of preserving through moments of weak resolve. Luckily, patience, as the third pillar of the Kyudō Trifecta, made me more forgiving in the moments when my shoulders did slump and my eyes searched for a clock.

Patience also, I found, was key to finding the joy in chilly afternoon practices of repetition, repetition, repetition. In fact, the same level of patience required of us was vastly lower due to the nature of our short visit. Kawaguchi-sensei actually sped up the timeline in which we received a bow to hold, an arrow with which to practice the form, and the permission to actually release the string. Normal students would have been practicing the form for about two months before even holding a bow. And yet all the same, even in the short and far more ‘action-packed’ time I took kyudō lessons, I know that patience is what completes the Trifecta. From the tremendous range of students’ ages, I saw right from the start that kyudō is an art form you learn over a lifetime. In this way, I was able to relax in knowing that while striving for a kind of perfection, it was finding the joy and awe in the learning process that made my CIP experience so memorable.

Emily Thurston: Kyuudo

For my CIP, I chose to do Kyuudo, or Japanese Archery. I had no experience with archery before, so I was certainly expecting a challenge. However, Kyuudo is so distinct from other forms of archery that I did not feel disadvantaged compared to those who had archery experience.

Practicing archery allowed me to get a glimpse of Japan’s hierarchical dojo community. I was expecting it to be somehow more rigid in structure, but my first lesson illustrated quite the opposite. The other KCJS students and I were mostly left to practice on our own, with occasional feedback. Moreover, the sensei even left when to end of the lesson up to us. We practiced for an extra half and hour waiting for her to signal the end of the lesson until we finally realized that it was our duty to do so.

Practicing kyuudo was a very rewarding experience. I learned a lot about proper patterns of speech when addressing one’s sensei. I noticed that even women who seemed to be around the same age as the sensei spoke to her in keigo, indicating that she was their superior within the dojo. Although I did not get to know anyone in the dojo very well, the other members were very welcoming and always greeting us warmly. This atmosphere, as well as the actual act of practicing kyuudo are very unique to Japan, and thus this experience has become an important aspect of my time here.

 

Phoebe Horgan: Kyudo

For my CIP I chose to practice kyūdō, or Japanese archery, twice a week for an hour. I chose it mostly because of my previous experience with archery in the US. I practiced and competed in archery all throughout high school, but once I got to college I didn’t get the chance to keep up with it, and ended up dropping it completely. In my CIP, I wanted to try something uniquely Japanese, but also building off of my personal interests, so I ended up with kyūdō.

I was really interested in learning the differences between kyūdō and archery, as there are many. You draw back with your thumb, not your fingers, and wear this massive stiff glove on the hand you use to draw back the bowstring. You place the arrow on the outside of the bow, not the side closest to you. But overall the objectives of kyūdō and archery are very different. In archery, the goal is to hit the target dead center with precision and accuracy, so you can make the same shot over and over again. Every adjustment you make, and every time you change your form is just to better your score. But in kyūdō, the emphasis seems to be more on the act of shooting itself, and less on the results. There’s a formality to it that you find in martial arts and not so much in sports. Just a couple of months isn’t really enough to learn a great deal about practicing kyūdō, but I am thankful that I had the opportunity to try it.

Even so, I ended up quitting it a few weeks before the end of the semester, due to time constraints and stuff. Anyway, apparently it’s really important to Japanese people to have a proper formal farewell and apology if you ever decide to stop doing something, so the three of us who had continued doing kyūdō all had to go and explain our reasons for quitting and thank sensei profusely for all that she had taught us so far and for taking the time to teach us. Although to be frank, the teaching style for Japanese martial arts is very hands-off, so it didn’t particularly seem to take sensei much time at all. Still, it felt marginally better to have that closure than to just stop showing up, so I guess that’s a good thing.

Jaime Guzman : Aikido

For my CIP, I practiced aikido at aikidokyoto located a few blocks away from Senbon dori and Imadegawa. From learning how to fall and do shikko to having instructions taught to me in a strange blend of Japanese and English, the experience for me was a fun and interesting one. Although I’ve only been able to practice for a short amount of time, I felt like I’ve learned a lot from both of the sensei, and of course was always looking forward to eating McDonald’s after practice on Tuesday. But in all seriousness, I have very little regrets about my decision to try out aikido. The 45 minute walk to and from the dojo may have felt long some days and the lack of interaction between the other students and me outside of lessons were probably not ideal but that did not take away from my experience at all.

Taking aikido at an actual dojo, in Japan, made me get a better glimpse at what practicing martial arts in a more official setting, and not a college setting, is like. For example, when I did karate back at Amherst, we had to use the gymnasium and did not have an official dojo so we never had to do anything like bowing to the dojo when entering or getting on the mats. We also rarely had to sit in seiza, the only times were when we were late and had to wait for the sensei’s permission to join the class or during promotion, however at this aikido dojo we it felt as if half of our time was spent in this position. When we are waiting for the sensei to start class, when we are bowing to the sensei, when we are observing a new technique before practicing it ourselves, and even for when we do certain techniques, we are required to sit in seiza. At the beginning of the class, my foot would usually feel an unbearable pain but as the class goes on sitting in seiza became a little bit easier. Of course when I walk the 2 miles back to my apartment, I am still able to feel the pain in my ankles but after a certain amount of classes even that became enjoyable and part of the aikido experience.

One main thing I noticed in my aikido class is that when there is a new student that has only been there for about 2 months or so, they’d always pair them up with a much more experience senpai wearing a hakama. For the first few classes, I was rotated among the same senpai until they were certain that I could do the majority of the basic moves before having me actually allowing me to learn techniques. When I did practice techniques it was usually with the same people until recently and I noticed that each senpai have their own way of showing techniques. Some are a lot stricter and forceful while others go through it slowly and walk me through every move. It’s interesting practicing with different people because some of them are fluent in English, some are native French speaker who sometimes try to talk to me in English and Japanese and others only speak Japanese. However the chance to speak in Japanese for me is very limited because I rarely get to speak to anyone after class and when I have it was for asking how to get my gi or a receipt and the person I asked always responded in English.

I’m very grateful for my time at the dojo however I feel as if I have not really been able to fully integrate into the dojo community. I walk there, practice, and then walk like many other people do. On Thursday, there’s always another class following mine and on Tuesday, after we clean, everyone is quick to zoom out of there. I may not be able to talk much with anyone there but at least I’ve learned a lot about aikido and some vocabulary for the parts of the body that I never actually remembered before.

大城ジャッキー:合気道

私は通年の学生なので、CIPとして秋学期と同様合気道をしています。先学期たいてい毎週月曜日か木曜日の夕方に稽古に行っていました。でも、今学期午後の時間がフリーにしたかったから、朝練に行くことにしています。稽古は月曜日と水曜日の午前7時から8時までですから学校のスケジュールと合ってはちょうどいいです。でも、道場はホストファミリーの 家からちょっと遠いので5時半までに起きなくてはいけません。

時間が全然違うのは別として、朝練と夕方の練習はだいたい同じです。先生と他の弟子とか練習技は 同じです。でも、朝練は夕方より気持ち良いから、5時半に起きなくてはいけなくても楽しく行っています。

ハイメ・グズマン:合気道京都

僕はCIPのために合気道を選びました。合気道をしたことがありませんでしたけれども、とても面白そうで、合気道についての本を持っているから、してみたかったです。僕は一週間に一、二回合気道の道場に行きます。このレッスンは基本技クラスといって、火曜日と木曜日に行われます。そして、二人の先生がいらっしゃいます。火曜日のクラスはモルガン先生が担当しますが、木曜日のクラスは岡本が担当します。今、僕はまだ基本的な動きを習っています。時々、とても難しいと思いますが、とても楽しいと思います。アマースト大学で空手を一年間しましたが、合気道ではよく正座をします。でも、合気道のほうが好きです。

モーガン・ハーン:弓道

2月2日から平安神宮の近くの武道センターで弓道をしています。アメリカでアーチェリーはしたことがありますが、子供の時からどうしても特別で伝統的な日本の弓道をしてみたかったのに、これまではしたことがありませんでした。なぜどうしてもしてみたかったかというと、たぶん「モノノケ姫」の弓を使うアシタカという登場人物のかっこよさや、禅の影響があることに興味があるせいだと思います。

毎週月曜日と木曜日に他のKCJSの友達と203番のバスに乗って、熊野神社前で降りて、武道センターまで歩きます。センターでは靴を脱いだ後で、教えて下さる先生にまず挨拶して、そして離れ方の形を練習します。生徒が多いですから、川口先生はお忙しいで、よく先生の代わりに先輩の生徒さんが私たちの形を直してくれます。その時以外は他の生徒とあまり話しませんが、話さない時でさえ日本文化について学んでいるのではないかと思います。そういうことを学ぶために、私は武道センターに通って、頑張り続けます。

フィービー・ホーガン:弓道

私はCIPとして、弓道のレッスンを受けています。月曜日と木曜日に熊野神社の近くの武道センターで一時間のレッスンを受けます。他の二人の学生と一緒に行きますから、本当に楽しいです。

普通だったら、弓道を始めた後で三ヶ月は弓矢を使いません。だから、私たちもはじめは弓を使わないで動作だけを練習しました。でも、私たちはあまり時間がありませんから、川口先生は例外的な措置をしてくださって、二週間後に弓を使わせてくださいました。そしてその一週間後には矢も使いはじめました。

私はアメリカで何年もアーチェリーをしていましたから、弓道に興味を持ちました。アーチェリーと弓道は本当に違います。弓や体勢ややり方はとても違うのに、両方とも集中がとても大切です。難しいスポーツですが、集中すれば、頭が冷静になりますから、弓道が大好きです。