Many classical and classical-styled systems of kenjutsu incorporate a variety of weapons and unarmed techniques. In older usages of the term, jûjutsu was not just a category of unarmed techniques, but rather any supplemental technique or weapon employed to cover the gap in response between an attack and the moment the primary weapon could be brought into action, or to cover instances in which the primary weapon was lost.

The jûjutsu in schools of kenjutsu may encompass waza related to nuki-dome (stopping a draw), kiri-dome (stopping a cut), tachi-dori (sword disarming), and tedori-gaeshi (“returning a grab” — methods of releasing a grip on one’s wrist, so that a draw can be completed). These sets of techniques are somewhat generic, and may be rather crude compared to analogous techniques in arts like aikijutsu.

This article focuses on the tachi-dori waza Kiri-age. While it could be considered a relatively simple technique, Kiri-age is by no means easy to execute properly. In fact, the technique is fully representative of the aggressive spirit and control of the engagement demanded by all the tachi-dori waza.

It seems likely to me that Kiri-age — at least as it is practiced is this version — originated in the dôjô, rather than on the battlefield. I base this supposition on the consideration that while a sword might (with a great deal of luck and advantageous circumstances) be taken away from an armored opponent by means of Kiri-age, the kusazuri (the “skirt” of yoroi-style armor) would interfere with the finishing cut. Likewise, in a Tokugawa-era street fight, an enemy in kimono and hakama would have been vulnerable to the technique, but only if he was sufficiently clumsy or unskilled to be disarmed by a method that incorporates no atemi (striking).

In the context of a dôjô, however, then or now, there are obvious benefits to the practice of tachi-dori. The first thought to pop into our heads when hearing the term tachi-dori should be maai (distancing). Because of the critical disparity in reach and lethality between two opponents when one is armed with a katana and the other unarmed, all of the tachi-dori waza require absolutely correct perception of, and strict control of, the distance separating the combatants. Practicing tachi-dori against opponents of varying heights, armed with different styles and lengths of bokken will greatly enhance a student’s ability to judge and exploit maai.

The sense of timing and the ability to fill a suki (a gap in the opponent’s attention) with a technique are also developed by tachi-dori practice. Timing is cultivated by a process of “bracketing,” in which we experiment with slight variations in the moment of entering against the attack, in order to determine the instant the opponent commits to his cut and cannot readily react to our entry, while the ability to fill a gap is boosted by the student practicing his technique as an organic whole, in which each component action is seamlessly connected and unfolds with equal commitment.

If we imagine an attack from the perspective of the swordsman, I think many of us would admit we’d likely be surprised to find our intended victim stepping forward to evade and counter rather than attempting to escape the descending blade, and that surprise could conceivably yield a suki prior to our initiation of a follow-on cut.

By consistent attention to moving through the momentary gap in the attacker’s ability to continue his assault, the student learns to recognize and capitalize on suki, and the process of blending the components of the waza also serves as an analogy to the physical blending with the attack that must occur for the waza to succeed.

Entering against a strong, focused attack, while maintaining balance and composure is difficult enough. It’s even harder to step to the exact spot from which to dominate the engagement, but with each success a student’s confidence and spirit grow, making success on the next repetition even more likely.

There are also appreciable risks associated with the practice of tachi-dori: namely, the danger of being struck by a bokken or shinken, either of which is eminently capable of spoiling one’s day. Without an element of real danger, however, the practice of tachi-dori would be pointless. Just as an infantryman is subjected to live-fire exercises to build confidence and help insure performance in combat, a student of the sword needs to clench his belly and step forward against a reasonably realistic attack to build credible skill in tachi-dori waza.