by Robert Wolfe
The Stevens entourage had more than a two-hour drive from
Philadelphia, but even with one slight excursion from the optimal route they
arrived in plenty of time for the 10:00 a.m. start. Two, two-hour sessions were
planned: the morning class addressed taijutsu while the afternoon practice
focused on aikiken and aikijo. Both sessions were preceded by a 15-minute
lecture that was both interesting and completely pertinent to the physical
training that followed. The initial lecture covered some history and insight to
Steven’s instructor’s (Shirata Rinjiro) approach to training, and provided
an introduction to kotodama, a form of chanting derived from the belief
that sound can directly affect reality. Despite the fact none of us had ever
experienced kotodama, Stevens Sensei led us in a number of different chants as
part of our warm-up and preparation for training — I was amazed at the way the
dojo resonated and by the eeriness of the effect. I don’t know whether it did
anything for our aikido, but it certainly sounded good.
Other than that it would likely be very different from our instructor’s aikido, I didn’t know what to expect of Steven’s technique. As it turned out, Steven’s aikido was quite unlike our normal fare, but impressive. There is an emotional exuberance to his practice, but a spiritual calm, as well as a dynamism that is usually understated but which manifests on occasion in very sharp atemi. Several times the uke did something unexpected (having limited experience with Stevens and perhaps not having quite understood what he wanted to demonstrate); he responded seamlessly with an appropriate technique and then just laughed and told them to try again. When one of the uke apologized, saying, “Sorry, my mistake,” Stevens responded with, “No, not at all. That’s the great thing about it: There are no mistakes in aikido.” Now, these guys weren’t trying to kill him with their attacks, but clearly he was completely up to whatever happened.
Stevens also demonstrated a wide range of applications of
the fundamental techniques he reviewed. Since Shirata had trained with Ueshiba
across virtually the entire spectrum of the development of aikido, Stevens was
able to demonstrate techniques in terms of, “Now, this is the more modern form
of X; this is how they did it pre-war; and this is how they did it in
between.” And Stevens had some chops. He was invariably careful of his uke,
but he demonstrated some serious atemi and could have done appreciable damage
with the more “martial” (as he put it) versions of the techniques. I was
impressed by the variety of practice Shirata Sensei’s aikido affords. If
you’re looking for a relatively light and relaxed workout, you can find it; if
you want to get together with a couple of the guys and knock the stuffing out of
each other, you can that, too.
The weapons training in the afternoon was interesting from
a number of perspectives. We were introduced to the 45-movement misogi-no-ken
and the 75-movement misogi-no-jo, neither of which we’d ever seen.
In his introductory lecture, Stevens pointed out that Shirata Sensei
insisted on an equal balance of taijutsu, aikiken, and aikijo. Despite the fact
aikiken and aikijo are not primarily combative, let alone the fact these forms
are intended as purification rituals, Stevens was able to demonstrate a variety
of both unarmed analogies and more combative, paired-practice sets excised from
the misogi forms.
John Stevens himself is a gentleman, delightful to talk to, unaffected and seeming to take great pleasure in simply the opportunity to share what his sensei had passed on to him. We’ll count ourselves very fortunate to have him visit again some time in the future.
