Yagyu no sato (柳生の里)

 
 
Yagyu no sato (柳生の里) is a small village in Nara prefecture, Japan. Passing through it in a car or by very infrequent bus, you would probably notice nothing particularly different to any other sleepy rural Japanese town. However, this town was the center of Yagyu-han, the ancestral home of the Yagyu family, the masters of the most famous school of Japanese swordsmanship.
Yagyu Sekishusai was already a renowned bugeisha (martial artist) when – via the introduction of the skilled spear-wielding monk Hōzōin In’ei – he was introduced to one of the legends of Japanese swordsmanship – Kamiizumi no kami Nobutsuna. Following a legendary duel in which Sekishusai lost to one of Kamiizumi’s students armed with a fukuro-shinai, Sekishusai himself became a follower of Kamiizumi, eventually inheriting the system from him. Sekishusai’s son Munenori went on to become an official sword instructor for the Tokugawa Bakufu (shogunate) and taught three successive Shogun’s. In his lifetime his stipend and position considerably rose, assuring both his families success and their notoriety.

The Yagyu family would continue to teach swordsmanship to the Tokugawa and their officials right up until the end of the feudal period#, and members of the family continue to practise and pass on the tradition to this very day.

The Yagyu family do not own the current village, of-course, but there are plenty of things for the discerning kendo tourist to see.

* Hotokuji (芳徳寺): the family temple was built in 1638 and houses statues of Sekishusai, Munenori, and also Takuan Soho. Inside there is a small museum and you can look Yagyu related historical items (all information in Japanese though). Around the back is the family graveyard: an amazing place to come if you are interested in Japanese swordsmanship.

* Itto seki (一刀石): This is a giant rock that his been split in two.. allegedly by the sword work of Sekishusai. He had been walking through the woods when he thought he was being attacked by Tengu. He dextrously turned around and cut down through what he thought was the enemy. Instead, it was the rock. Its hard to imagine how big the rock is until you actually go there!

* Former Yagyu-han chief retainers mansion (旧柳生藩家老屋敷): This is a museum with some Yagyu related articles. You can also buy tenugui here!

* Yagyu Mazakizaka Kenzen Dojo (柳生正木坂剣禅道場): A modern kendo dojo with the frontage of an old temple from Kyoto. It has nothing to do with the Yagyu family but sits just outside Hotokuji and provides and amazing place to practise budo. You can hire this place out as for keiko and gasshuku.

There are more things to see in the town, but not that much. The location is pretty remote, but it IS well worth visiting it as it is a sort of pilgrimage site. If you are going by bus you have to be very careful to time it just right — leave Nara city as early as you can, and come back in the afternoon. Its too far to take a taxi (you have been warned!).

I’ve been there only once, but I have promised myself to go down there and visit it again at least once a year. If you live in Japan then I highly recommend that you go at least once. If you are a visitor to the area that is serious about kendo and swordsmanship well, its a worth the effort to make the visit. If you don’t you will probably regret it.

KORYÛ BUGEI


The koryu bugei are the classical styles or systems through which the samurai acquired their military skills, as well as many of their key values and convictions. They are distinguished from the better-known and more widely practiced modern cognate arts of Japan, such as kendo, aikido and judo, by their origins, organizational structures, and senses of purpose.

To be classified as a koryu, a school must be able to trace its origins to at least the early nineteenth century. Most are in fact considerably older than this, and the traditional histories of some profess roots in the twelfth, tenth, or even the seventh century—although scholars generally view such claims as hyperbole.

Military training in Japan dates back to before the dawn of recorded history,and organized drill can be documented by the early eighth century, but the solidification of martial art into systems, or ryuha, was a development of the mid to late medieval period, a part of a broad trend toward the systemization of knowledge and teaching in various pursuits. In the late fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, virtuosos of poetry, the tea ceremony, flower arranging, music, No drama, and the like began to think of their approaches to their arts as packages of information that could be transmitted to students in organized patterns, and began to certify their students’ mastery of the teachings by issuing written documents. Thus, samurai began to seek out warriors with reputations as expert fighters and appeal to them for instruction, even as such masters of combat began to codify their knowledge and experience and to methodize its study. During the Tokugawa period (1600-1868), bugei training became increasingly formalized and businesslike, with adepts opening commercial training halls and instructing students for fees, turning the teaching of martial art into a full-time profession.

The opening to the West and rapid modernization of Japan in the late nineteenth century brought dramatic changes to the role and status of the koryu by virtually ending perceptions of practical military value in the arts of sword, spear, bow, glaive, and grappling. Participation in the classical bugei flagged rapidly as the new Meiji government closed many urban martial art academies and encouraged instead the development of a new military system based on European models. When public and government interest in traditional martial arts began to revive, from the 1890s onward, it was directed not to the koryu, but to new, synthesized forms of fencing and grappling promulgated as means of physical and moral education for the general public. By the 1930s, the study of these modern cognate arts had become compulsory in Japanese middle schools, where the emphasis was on developing aggression, speed, and a self-sacrificing “martial spirit” appropriate to the imperial armed forces. Consequently, the martial arts became closely identified with militarism, “feudalism,” and the war effort, resulting, under the postwar Allied Occupation, in a ban on most forms of bugei training that lasted until 1952, when the Ministry of Education permitted the reintroduction of fencing to high schools, provided that it be taught as physical education and not as a martial art.

A great many koryu died out during the Meiji transformation or the upheavals of the postwar era. Nevertheless, many survived and several dozen thrive today. A few are even practiced overseas.

While modern enthusiasts tend to view the koryu as corporate entities existing across time,this perception is anachronistic. Until the very end of the medieval period, most ryuha had no institutional structure at all, and those that did derived it from familial or territorially based relationships between teachers and students. Medieval bugei masters often traveled about, instructing students as and where they found them. Some students followed their teachers from place to place; others trained under them for short periods while the teacher was in the area. In either case, during this era a ryuha had little practical existence beyond the man who taught it.

Bugei ryuha can often be clearly identified only in retrospect. Teacher-student relationships can be traced backward through time to establish the continuity of lineages, but few martial art adepts prior to modern times belonged exclusively to a single lineage, and few had only a single successor. Unlike many schools of tea ceremony, flower arranging, calligraphy, and other traditional Japanese arts, in the premodern era most bugei ryuha did not develop articulated organizational structures whereby senior disciples were licensed to open branch schools that remained under the authority of the ryuha headmaster. Instead, martial art teachers tended to practice total transmission, in which all students certified as having mastered the school’s arts were given complete possession of them—effectively graduated from the school with full rights to propagate or modify what they had been taught as they saw fit. Such students normally left their masters to open their own schools, teaching on their own authority; instructors retained no residual control over former students or students of students. It was common practice for such graduates to blend what they had learned with personal insights and/or with techniques and ideas gleaned from other teachers. Often, the former students changed the name of the style, in effect founding new ryuha in each generation. Consequently, lines of descent from famous warriors tend to fork and branch again and again, over time giving rise to many hundreds of ryuha.

During the Tokugawa period, the procedures surrounding martial art instruction and the master-disciple bond became much more formal and cabalistic,and the koryu assumed the shapes they have retained into modern times. One of the first steps toward institutionalization of martial art ko-ryu was the issuing of diplomas and licenses to students. This practice began in the sixteenth century with certificates given to acknowledge “graduation” from an instructor’s tutelage. The vocabulary used on and for these certificates varied from teacher to teacher, but the most common term for this level of achievement was menkyo-kaiden. Kaiden, which means “complete transmission,” indicated that the student had learned all that the teacher had to offer. Menkyo means “license” or “permission,” and signified authorization to use the name of the teacher’s style in dealings with persons outside the school—such as in duels or when seeking employment.

Medieval bugei instructors seldom formally differentiated students by level prior to graduation; there was little need for such distinctions, inasmuch as the period of tutelage was usually brief—sometimes only a few months. But during the Tokugawa period, as instruction became more professionalized and more commercialized, apprenticeships became longer. Thus, more elaborate systems of intermediate ranks were introduced, providing students with tangible measures of their progress.

Today, a few koryu have adopted the standardized dan-kyu system of ranks and grades introduced by judo pioneer Kano Jigoro in the late nineteenth century and embraced by most modern cognate martial arts.Prior to Kano’s innovation, however, each ryuha maintained its own system of ranks and its own terminology for them, and most koryu continue to use these systems today. This situation makes it difficult to compare the levels of students from different ryuha, inasmuch as even terms used in common sometimes represent completely different levels of achievement from school to school. Similarly, there is no simple formula for calculating equivalencies between koryu ranks and those of the dan-kyu system, which many koryu view as being based on fundamentally different premises from those of their own systems. Ranks within the koryu tend to certify not skills mastered or status achieved so much as initiation into new and deeper levels of training. Promotion in “rank,” therefore, signifies the granting of permission for the student to move on to the next level of training. The principal criteria for promotion are aptitude (including, but not limited to, skills and knowledge mastered) and moral fitness to be allowed to share in the teachings of the school at a higher and deeper level, and to be trusted with more of its secrets.

Koryu, in fact, tend to be far smaller, more closed, and more private organizations than those associated with the modern cognate martial arts. The membership of most numbers in the dozens or less. Many are, or were until a generation or two ago, restricted family traditions. Most are taught in only a single location, under the direct supervision of the headmaster and/or instructors (shihan) operating under him or her.

Traditionally,koryu teachers have been extremely careful about admitting students to instruction and have usually demanded long commitments and considerable control over students’ behavior during their terms of apprenticeship. Many still follow elaborate procedures for screening new students, requiring letters of recommendation and even investigations into the backgrounds of applicants. Those who pass such screenings are initiated into their ryuha as though into a brotherhood or secret society. Some koryu hold entrance ceremonies ranging from the very simple to the very ornate. Most collect initiation gifts and fees. And nearly all require students to sign written pledges, or kishomon, in which they promise to abide by the school’s rules and keep its secrets. In the past—and sometimes even today—these pledges were often sealed with the students’ own blood, pressed onto the paper next to their signatures or ciphers.

What most definitively distinguishes koryu bugei from modern cognate martial arts,however, is not the age or the organizational structure of the schools, but the holistic and cabalistic manner in which they view the educational process. The essence of the koryu bugei experience is one of socialization to the ryuha, the complete subordination of the individual to the system—a course that promises that those who stay with it long enough will emerge, paradoxically, with a more fully developed sense of individualism. This idea derives from basic Confucian principles of education that predate their application to bugei training in Japan by centuries. The process centers on wholehearted devotion to the mastery of detail.

The koryu bugei are extraordinarily complex arts. At their most fundamental levels as methodologies of combat and war, they are largely collections of particulars, expressed in dozens of individual techniques and strategies, described in a profoundly unsystematized, sometimes opaque, and often overlapping argot of terms. Much of this apparent chaos is intentional, for—at least until modern times—martial art schools, as competitive organizations training warriors for deadly combat, deliberately sought to keep outsiders from grasping what they taught.

And yet each ryuha does have an essence,a conceptual core around which the details of the school’s arts revolve. This core becomes increasingly perceptible to initiates as they advance in their studies, particularly as they turn their attentions beyond the initiatory functions of the bugei as arts of war to their deeper purpose as arts of peace and self-realization. To adepts who have entered this realm, each one of their school’s terms and concepts reveals multiple levels of meaning—mechanical, psychological, moral, and so forth—understood not as sequential steps, but as interpenetrating spheres of activity. As the koryu conceptualize it, the value and the benefits imparted by the practice of the bugei lie in the combination of all the various elements involved. Koryu see this combination as having a special meaning and existence over and above the sum of the parts. Thus ko-ryu bugei is a means to broad personal development that exists only in whole form: Studying a koryu necessarily involves a willingness to embrace the whole package in a particularly defined way.

The arcane nature of the arts themselves,the lack of competitions and other sportive applications, the cabalistic atmosphere surrounding admission and the educational process, and the length and seriousness of the commitments expected from initiates limit the appeal of classical martial art for modern audiences in, as well as outside of, Japan. Moreover, the aversion of most headmasters to licensing branch instructors and academies severely restricts opportunities for training for those who might otherwise be attracted. Thus koryu bugei are, and will likely continue to be, a rather small part of the Japanese martial art world. Nonetheless, the koryu are, historically and conceptually, the core of this world, and remain a vi-tal—and quintessential—part of it today.

Yagyû Jubei



Yagyu Jubei Mitsuyoshi(1607?-1650 April 21) is one of the most famous and romanticized of the samurai in Japan's feudal era.

Very little is known about the actual life of Yagyu Jubei as the official records of his life are very sparse. Yagyu Jubei (born "Shichiro") grew up in his family's ancestral lands, Yagyu no Sato, now in Nara. He was the son of Yagyu Tajima no Kami Munenori, master swordsman of the Tokugawa Shoguns, especially Ieyasu and Tokugawa Iemitsu, who prized Munenori as one of his top councillors. Munenori fought for the first Tokugawa shogun, Tokugawa Ieyasu, at the Battle of Sekigahara, expanding the Shogun's territory. For his efforts, Munemori was made the Shogun's sword instructor and a minor daimyo or provincial ruler. Munenori would go on to train three successive Shoguns: Ieyasu, Hidetada, and Iemitsu.

In 1616, Yagyu Jubei became an attendant in the court of the second Tokugawa Shogun, Tokugawa Hidetada and became a sword instructor for the third Tokugawa Shogun, Tokugawa Iemitsu, occasionally filling his father's role. Records of Yagyu Jubei, however, do not appear again until 1631, when Jubei, by now regarded as the best swordsman from the Yagyu clan, is summarily and inexplicably dismissed by the Shogun either due to Jubei's boldness and brashness or his decision to embark on a Warrior's Pilgrimage (Musha Shugyo). His whereabouts are then unknown over the next twelve years, (even the Yagyu clan's secret chronicles, which contained lengthy passages on numerous members, has little solid information on Jubei, particularly during these years), until Yagyu Jubei reappears, at the age of 36, at a demonstration of swordsmanship in front of the Shogun. Following this exhibition, Jubei was reinstated and serves for a short time as a government-inspector, taking control over his father's lands until Yagyu Tajima no Kami Munenori's death in 1646. Jubei also authored a treatise known as Tsukimi no Sho or The Text of Looking at the Moon, outlining his school of swordsmanship as well as teachings influenced by the monk Takuan Soho who was a friend of his father's. In this work, he briefly provides hints on his whereabouts during his absence from Edo Castle from 1631 to 1643 - traveling the countryside in perfecting his skills.

Due to Yagyu Jubei's disappearance and the fact of no existing records of his whereabouts, his life has bred speculation and interest and was romanticized in popular fiction. After residing in Edo for several years after his father's death, Jubei left his government duties and returned to his home village where he died in early 1650 under uncertain circumstances. Some accounts say he died of a heart attack, others say he died while falcon hunting, some during fishing, while still others presume he was assassinated by his half-brother's attendants.

Jubei was laid to rest in a small village called Ohkawahara Mura, nearby his birthplace, which was also the resting grounds for his half-brother, Yagyu Tomonori. In keeping with tradition, Yagyu Jubei was buried alongside his grandfather, Yagyu Muneyoshi, and was survived by two daughters. Jubei was given the Buddhist posthumous name of Sohgo.

IGA UENO

Ueno City in Mie Prefecture, is a castle town well-known as the home of the Iga-ryu Ninja sect and the birthplace of the famous haiku poet, Matsuo Basho. This city of about 60,000 people is located about 95 kilometers west of Nagoya and eighty kilometres east of Osaka in a basin surrounded by the Suzuka and Murou Mountains. Since there are many places in Japan named "Ueno", this city is often called Iga Ueno in reference to the region's traditional name.

While the region has a long history, this small region surrounded by mountains came to prominence during the late 16th and early 17th century. Strategically the region was unimportant, with few mines, poor agricultural productivity due to the mountains and little to offer in the way of trade. The people of the area were independent minded, and long used to being left to their own in terms of governance. Iga had managed to avoid much of the bloodshed of the long period of civil war, especially that accompanying the steady westward expansion of Oda Nobunaga.

In 1579 Oda Nobuo, Nobunaga's second son, without consultation with his father decided to bring Iga into the control of the Oda and ordered Takigawa Kazumasu to attack and occupy the province. The failure of this attack forced Nobuo to lead a second force into Iga himself. Both invasions failed with heavy casualties due to a number of reasons, including underestimating the military prowess of the Iga samurai and ninja, and considerations such as the vulnerability to ambushes of long slow moving columns (both during the initial invasions and in re-supply). Iga was surrounded by mountains, and the local defenders knew where ambushes could be used to maximum effect. The resistance is known as the Rebellion of Tensho Iga. Although Oda Nobunaga had been opposed to the invasions, he had little alternative due to the political implications involved in the defeat other than to attempt to finish the invasion and occupation.

In October 1581, a massive Oda army believed to comprise over 40,000 men invaded Iga through a number of passes. Due to the multiple invasion routes, the defenders were unable to prevent large numbers of the enemy from penetrating deep into the province. Ambushes and continuous rearguard actions took a heavy toll on the invading force, and some 4,000 Oda warriors died. The retribution was terrible. More than half of the total population of Iga were slaughtered, especially farming communities suspected of being ninja villages. The land was scorched, and survivors fled as refugees to provinces such as Mikawa (Tokugawa Ieyasu), where they were offered refuge. Many of the refugees did not manage to escape as the invading army had difficulty distinguishing between civilian and combatant and despatched both without consideration.

The Iga Ninja, whose sect was said to have begun in the region sometime during the 12th century, managed to avoid annihilation. Despite Nobunaga's reputed ruthlessness, many were able to escape capture by remaining in the mountains or by joining the exodus to other provinces. Oda Nobunaga is said to have refrained from pursuing the ninja in part due to an aversion to further casualties amongst his troops.

The decision to allow the ninja to escape ultimately proved beneficial to Tokugawa Ieyasu. When Nobunaga was betrayed in Kyoto in 1582, Ieyasu was stuck in Osaka with just 30 or so men, far from his base in the Mikawa. Hattori Hanzo, one of Ieyasu's vassals, had family links with the Iga samurai and was able to persuade the Iga warriors to assist Ieyasu. Perhaps due in part to the refuge offered to those who had fled the invasion by Oda Nobunaga the previous year, the Iga Ninjas saved Tokugawa Ieyasu by helping him escape his enemies and escorting him through hostile territory, allowing him to return safely to Okazaki.

Later, after Tokugawa Ieyasu had taken control of the country and obtained the title of shogun, Todo Takatora was appointed as daimyo of the Iga and Ise provinces and given control of Iga Ueno Castle from Tsutsui Sadatsugu, who had originally built the structure. Todo Takatora, a great warrior also known as one of the finest castle architects of his time, expanded and converted the castle and constructed its surrounding 30 meter high walls which are said to be the highest in Japan.

The Iga Ueno Castle and the Ninja Yashiki Museum, profiling the Iga sect Ninjas, are both located in Ueno Park, the heart of the city's year-round tourist attractions. The park is located within a five-minute walk from Kintetsu Line's Ueno City station.
Also located in Ueno Park is the Basho Memorial Museum and Haikai Master's Pavilion, both dedicated to the great haiku master, Matsuo Basho was born in Ueno city in 1644 and lived there until he was 29. While the castle provides the city it's landmark and the ninja, its reputation, Matsuo Basho represents its soul. He was reportedly Japan's first great haiku poet.

Haikai Master's Pavilion, Ueno Park Statue of Matsuo Basho, Haikai Master's Pavilion Ueno Tenjin Festival Display in Danjiri Museum

The Ueno Tenjin Festival, meanwhile, is the city's annual showcase event. Held between October 23-25, the festival features a parade with an Oni-gyoretsu (demon procession) and nine elaborately decorated danjiri floats. The festival is about 400 years old and originated as an agricultural ritual. If you are not able to attend the festival itself, displays, presentations, and three of the floats used in the parade are exhibited in the Danjiri Museum located outside of Ueno Park.

Other annual events include the Ninja Festival on the first Sunday in April, the Basho Festival on August 12th, and Castle Festival between September and October which features Firelight Noh theater.