Sayonara

This is going to be my last post on Kyoto Budogu Blog, because from September 3rd I will be back in Europe and someone else will take my place as blogger and store manager (who, you will find out soon! ).

This year in Japan has passed so quickly, that it even feels weird to think that I arrived in Kyoto in September 2013.
It has been a journey of discovery, although I hardly ever left Kyoto (apart from two quick trips to Europe at Christmas and for the European Kendo Championships). I learned a lot about bogu and shinai,  but also about Japanese work ethos, about life in the Old Capital and of course about people, being they colleagues or customers.

One additional, very precious knowledge I developed is a good (albeit surely partial) picture of the local Kendo scene.
I have been able to practice fairly regulary with four different groups: Yuubukan, Fucho, Fukei and the Wednesday keikokai at Butokuden. I occasionally practiced in Kumatori at Osaka Taiiku Daigaku and at Nichiyokai in Osaka. The Ladies Keikokai at the Butokuden takes place once a month and I managed to take part, too. Some occasional Taikai offered me the opportunity for shiai and for shinpanning, too. I also visited Myokaku-ji dojo.
It has been very interesting meeting the "normal" kenshi of Japan - meaning not only the professionals or the students. Ordinary people like me, who would train after work whenever they could (it has to be said, mainly one or two times per week, not four or five like me: clear sign of an obsessive personality), for the sheer pleasure of keiko.
I found a welcoming environment, although I am sure some must have been rather puzzled by my presence at the beginning (in spite of all the introductions!). I hope I managed to learn something from all the sensei I met - although the time devoted to kihon practice is always very limited in Japan, as I also discovered.

Some of you may already know that living (and working) in Japan does not automatically mean you can train with all the ease every day. If you end your working day at 18,00, like myself, you only have a hour to reach the dojo, wherever it may be, change and join keiko. For some strange reason, most evening trainings start at 19.00 and they are over by 20.00. Only the weekends are left to tread a bit further away - and that of course if there is some keiko on the weekend!
What I mean to say is that you really MUST WANT to have keiko and you will have a lot of rushing with your bogu on the shoulder to be able to do it. Nothing drops on your lap, to be clear. I considered this as part of the experience, too.

Of course I will be back in Kyoto again and again, so this does not feel so sad at all. I simply have many more places to visit and many more friends to meet.

Housen Step Two: Showing Off

I told you about the little expedition to visit our supplier Housen

Well, time has come for me to show off my 3-shinai bag (actually this is my second one by Housen, after a gray/black Ichimatsu one...) - I am so proud of it, that I am flaunting it without any shame.

The colour: GREEN

The fabrics pattern: MUJI

The main embroidery: the character DŌ (which, I shamelessly admit, stands for the initial of my name!) in Yuu no Sho calligraphy style.

The embroidered decoration: TONBO AND SAKURA in two different tones of green.

On the back: my name in katakana.

I simply love it!

Inno-what?

I have dreams. Fantasies that become particularly insistent after training in high temperatures, as it happens now in Kyoto. Kyoto summer is renown for being fierce - and justly so.
I go for asa-geiko on my bike to the Prefecture Police at 7 o`clock, before work. It is already hot then, try to imagine after one hour of non-stop keiko.
Then is the time for me to dream: shape memory hakama - you take them off, you throw them in the air and the moment they touch the floor they are already perfectly folded. No more struggling with stubborn erratic creases, on floors on which some ugly guy has been dripping sweat like a stranded jellyfish: operation instantly completed in a neat and orderly fashion.
I dream of spray bogu. All in one bottle: you get into your (shape memory) hakama and kendogi and then you spray it onto yourself. It solidifies in a second - I still have to fantasise on how to remove it without too much hassle. Maybe it could melt in the shower?
Till I figure how to solve this little issue, I could be happy with mag-lev bogu bags, that follow you wherever you go.

None of this is going to happen soon, alas.

So we keep taking care of our hakama, folding them neatly, while spotting the cleanest section of the floor (I wear usually white or kinari). We remember the virtues of each fold and carry on. Far di necessita` virtu`, we say in Italy: make a virtue out of  necessity - very appropriately, we make seven, in fact.
Trolley bags have brought already a notable improvement in bogu-carrying - a bit late maybe for my right shoulder that has strangely retained the mark of all the bogu bags of my life - shape memory shoulder?

Nevertheless, it is right to think of innovation in Kendo equipment. Maybe without going to the extremes (it would not be tolerated anyway, both by the governing bodies of Kendo and by kenshi themselves - who are, let me say, a pretty conservative bunch, as far as tradition and Japanness are concerned (I am in that bunch myself) - a degree of innovation though is necessary and welcome, also to make equipment safer and more accessible.

I can surely mention the Tornado-stitch® Kote, which are the new thing of the moment: I love the sturdiness of the futon and I like the spiralling of the stitching.

Still, although really new, they are still made of cotton, with a recognisable traditional look. Then how far can we go with innovation, in Kendo equipment, with Kote, to start with? We asked a number of inspired and willing kenshi to put their experience and their creativity together and see what would emerge.
We loved the results:

THE TURTLE KOTE, by Nathalie, Jeroen and Oliver

Top focus on maximum protection and perfect fit: (Jeroen has very big hands, Nathalie very petite ones):

• removable padding (in purpose built pockets) 
• titanium thread hexagonal pattern stitches (hence, the Turtle)
• Sorbothane padding in specific areas of the atama (Sorbothane is the brand name of a synthetic viscoelastic urethane polymer used as a shock absorber and vibration damper. It is manufactured by Sorbothane, Inc., based in Kent, Ohio.) See Wikipedia for further details

KOTETSU, by Xiaoxu, Ghaïs, Yiwen

Innovation comes in a bit more timidly in this Kote: very high quality, but traditional materials (from 10000 thread cotton, to deer hair for padding)

• anti bacterial treatment (Bioclean)
• diagonal stitching pattern
• striking contrast between indigo (in two tones) and yellow
• improved shape of the futon for extra comfort and ease of movement
• enhanced flexibility of the wrist joint
• reinforcement in the palm leather, in the traditionally hole-prone spots

Possibly, apart from the look, which I find truly attractive, the real innovation is the combination of all the top quality features available today. Not exactly a cheap pair, this one.

WILD SPIRIT KOTE, by Maria, Giorgio, Jose and Tetsuro

Well, here we are treading on a completely new ground. That was the task of the Gone Wild Team, in fact.
Gone is the stitching.
Gone are the himo.
Gone is the traditional padding.
The purpose of this aggressive Kote is to be as unobtrusive as possible for hand movements, while being protective through completely innovative methods.
However, a longer futon seems to be a priority also in the 22nd century, where these Kote belong to.
The look is projected in the future, for authentic Bad Ass Kenshi - this is what your grandchildren will wear, put yourself at peace.

Wow, I cannot wait to see these beauties being made - the future has to start somewhere, and here we are.

Why Kendo?

Kendo people

Oh, the dreaded question! How many times I did hear this, of course immediately after something like: “Is Kendo the thing with the sticks?”, in the best of cases.

My answer changed several times, along the years, not surprisingly. I still prefer not be asked, because most of the times I know that who`s asking is not really interested in hearing the reason of a lifelong engagement, but just in exploring a bit of folklore.

Of course, answering the question 30 years ago was even more difficult – thank God for the internet and for the deluge of information that comes across, even if not 100 % pertinent: it helps filling the gaps and makes the process of crafting a suitable answer less painful.

My answer to that question - today - is: Because I like the people who are in our world. It is small (it is very likely I met personally at least one person from every Kendo Federation on earth – at least the more consolidated ones), but it is the quality of the human beings that makes it special.

The span of the motivation to enter our world can be very wide: there are kenshi who live Kendo as a pastime, for the beer after keiko, and others who made Kendo their philosophy (and wrote books about it), all equally delightful to practice (and spend time) with.

I am no Alice in Wonderland, I met also the “villains” in this story: I have come across shady characters who still believe that Kendo could be a business and, although lacking any technical – and human – quality, are trying to pass as Kendo Masters, for a price… if only they knew how to dress properly! they do not even have to open their mouth or swing their shinai to give themselves away.

I met the ones who want to be samurai warriors and never crack a smile (and, gosh, how they make sure that no one else does!), because the Way of the Warrior is Death.

I met those who take off their Men during keiko every time they feel like resting, drinking, stretching and talking with the occasional member of the audience (given our average following, more likely it`s the janitor of the gym…).

I met a lady who always “injured” herself during warming up and never made it to put the Men on – although a lot of people would have loved to have a good fight with her…

I am sure everyone met someone who made him/her doubt if the dojo was really such a safe/hospitable/joyous place to be.

Nevertheless, the core is good. Most people wants genuinely BECOME BETTER KENSHI, and in doing so, BETTER HUMAN BEINGS. Not everyone has this aim spelled clearly in his/her mind, but it is the passion and the seriousness of their practice that makes it clear. These are the people I wish to associate with, that make me overcome the occasional pain-in-the-neck individual who tries to trash Kendo to his/her purposes.

We should defend our Kendo, through our honest and sincere practice. Through the respect for senpai and sensei. Through modesty and open-heartedness. Through the steely determination to practice (and to pass it on) in the correct way – both in terms of waza and kokoro. The responsibility of this development does not sit only on the knees of the Japanese: WE are Kendo and the task is for all of us to carry on.

As far I think, with all the glitches that are the burden of the human nature, it is the closest thing to an ideal world that I know of : and you can be bloody sure, I will fight till my last breath to keep it so.

I dislike laziness

I love facts.
I am an engineer, so I have been educated to look at hard numbers and to find explanations to event in a matter-of-fact way. I am no scientist: meaning that I look at the practical answers to the problem at hand, instead of investigating it just for the pure pleasure of knowledge.
Having said so, let`s talk shinai.

Shinai are fascinating objects, because they offer so many interpretations of themselves.
They are complex devices, they require excellent craftsmanship to be fit for use. At the same time, they are the consumables of Kendo. I cannot count how many shinai I used in my career. Judging only by the splintered staves scattered in my garden  (recycled to support plants), I must have gone well beyond several hundreds. I have bunches of shinai in Italy, Holland and Japan - I still keep buying shinai, to test the different types and discover my own. I love the beauty of the bamboo, the different colours available and the ingenuity of the different shapes available.
At the beginning of my career, shinai would go incredibly fast. I guess it is a common phenomenon: beginners hit too hard and they pay for this. Nevertheless, my senpai spent time to teach me how to take care of my shinai - it was for practical purposes (scarcity is the mother of invention... and of sandpaper), but all this care also had a strong symbolical meaning. The shinai is your sword - your life depends on it, respect it as if it had been handed to you by generations of ancestors.
This teaching is so ingrained in me that even nowadays I cringe whenever I see a shinai leaning aganist a wall with the tip on the floor, or I see someone who steps across one, as if he/she was happily dancing in the Highlands:

or. even worse, lean on it as if he/she was a Corazziere in high uniform.
I love the Corazzieri from the bottom of my heart, but this pose does not belong to the dojo.

Corazziere della Repubblica Italiana

Years ago shinai always needed to be tended even when they were new. We would take them apart (a very scary process, when you were not really sure you would be able to assemble them right again...), smooth with sandpaper the sharp edges of the staves, then oil them with linseed oil. We would have intense debates about the different merits of crude and boiled linseed oil: endless talks during the post-keiko drinks.
Nowadays, none of this is necessary anymore. I find out that some friends still go through the process anyway, because... no real reason, but they do it anyway. Old habits are hard to die.
Then one ugly day, came the end to all the linseed oil  - related conversations. Columbus`s egg: the shinai that did not need any of the care that bamboo needed, because it was not made of bamboo.
Not only ugly as hell, but also the triumph of all lazy kenshi: why spending useless hours shaving your splintered shinai, when you could have a shinai that does not splinter at all? Little mattered that it would hit harder on your mates heads, as long as it would not break.
We can still have the little consolation that the different elastic response is hard not only on the heads of the victims, but also on the shoulder ligaments of the holder. Pity it takes too long to make them reconsider out of sheer physical damage: laziness is a powerful lever.
Once the fascination of the new could have been understandable - nowadays, not anymore.

And since I love facts, let`s stick to the facts.
How many hachidan sensei or high level Japanese kenshi have you ever seen using a non-bamboo shinai?
I think this is the only answer that counts.

Hand-stitched Art

I really like hand-stitched Bogu. Actually, I get fixed in admiration every time I see one. From 3.00 Bu, to 0.8 Bu, the craftsmanship always leaves me amazed. It could be that I have never been able to sew anything myself (the good housewife is not exactly my call), but the sheer beauty of the indigo fabrics, stitched so precisely and neatly makes me wish to own a new set every time. 

We can discuss the merits of each type of hand stitch: actually, it would not be fair saying that the hard-working craftsman worked wonders completely different from happens with the mm-equivalent machine-stitched futon.
The tighter the stitch lines, the more compressed the padding, the stiffer the futon: this is true both for hand-stitched and machine-stitched Bogu. Nevertheless, hand-stitch futon retains a higher level of suppleness, that makes the Bogu faster to conform to the body of the wearer. I guess no one who experienced keiko with both could argue that.

I still have a beautiful 2mm. machine-stitched Bogu that is as hard as the day I bought it - when I find myself forced to use it, I try to make it more reasonable by placing my Chesterfield armchair on the top of the Mengane. Once I left it like that for three months - still, it did not really improve. From then on, only hand-stitch existed for me.
The problem is that I am spoiled. The Men I wear more often are either hand-stitched or fit-stitched (although I did not know what fit-stitched was when I bought it - I simply needed a new Men, I was in Japan and the top of my Mengane had broken - very intense training at the Summer Leaders` Seminar in Kitamoto , that year). I love hand-stitch Kote and I think they are not only more beautiful, but also more protective and supple.

Fit-stitch is a logical improvement, in terms of suppleness: it is still applied with a machine, but the stitches are longer: again, the padding is less compressed than in the corresponding "traditional" machine-stitched futon, hence the futon is easier to adapt, being "puffier" and softer. My personal opinion? It is certainly an improvement (I think of my Chesterfield armchair finally at peace), but to my eye it looks a bit untidy, if compared to the beauty of the cross-stitches applied manually.

Of course, it is still a matter of personal tastes. The only thing that really counts is that the Bogu fits your size and it is safe and tidy.
Old Bogu can be fascinating, when they discolour nicely - stained Bogu or Bogu going to pieces are a complete no-no (of course you KNOW how to remove sweat/salt stains, don`t you?)
Ageing gracefully (with proper, continuing maintenance) is exactly what life-long Kendo is all about.
Looking like tramps in the dojo, not so.

A Chesterfield armchair - a necessary piece of furniture for each kenshi.

Fashion victims

I will spare you the old story I told before, about how difficult it was, back in the 80`s, to purchase a decent bogu. We all managed to survive those days and here we are, in the time of internet abundance.
Just by chance, I happen to work for a bogu maker and retailer, so I spend my days surrounded by bogu sets and loose parts. Just turning around my head, while I sit at the desk in the office, I can see two Do and two Men and I know that, just close to my keyboard, just under a pile of Kendogi and Hakama there are at least three pairs of Kote. The land of plenty indeed.
Without mentioning the ocean of bogu I saw in our warehouse and shipping centre, I would like to concentrate on the showroom that happens to be just a floor up from where I sit.

It is a beautiful display: all the best models of the collection (Korin, Koetsu, Tokuren, Samurai...) are lined up in the glass cases on both sides... The more I admire them, the more I realise there is a glitch somewhere. I have been scratching my head for a while, but now I definitely have the issue pinned down. What do all these bogu have in common? and what makes them so similar (from a distance) to the fit-stitched models, like Fujin, Rajin or Yoroi? The answer is easy: they are ALL BLACK.





When I finally had the money and a nice excuse (I just passed Godan) to purchase a brand new bogu, all in one go (not bit by bit, maybe recycling some wrongly sized purchase of some dojo mate), the first thing I thought of was: "WHICH COLOUR?", meaning the Mune and Ago embroidery and the shade of the Do Dai. I chose a subtle red theme, nothing too visible, but for sure NOT BLACK.
When I purchased my first hand-stitch set of Men and Do (in the days in which the yen was very high, not like today...), the first decision was again: "WHICH COLOUR?". This time I went for blue: two threads in two tones for Ago and Mune and, a Do Dai in a dark shade of blue. most importantly, I finally realised my kendo-career-long dream of having a BAMBOO DO.
A bamboo do! what a wonderful item! the craftsmanship! the quality of the lacquer! the matching embroidery! the beautiful inside, with my name written in golden ink... the long wait was over: I finally made the grade.

Definitely, I am a dinosaur. Japanese kenshi are well beyond coloured embroidery and bamboo Do.

There is a sort of unwritten rule that makes BLACK the only acceptable colour for a Do in official AJKF competitions. It has to be said, though, that in Student Championships teams tend to have matching bogu, sometimes very colourful and recognisable. However, adults seem to stick to the unwritten black rule (on the other hand, it also states that the urushi around the Mengane must be red:  all black Menbuchi is not allowed, in official AJKF competitions!).
A coloured, two- or three-tone embroidered Mune is definitely musty and terribly fané.
.
Regarding the Bamboo Do, well, I had some raised eyebrows when I stated quite candidly that it is the ultimate (equipment) goal for a kenshi to possess a beautiful, traditional, all natural Bamboo Do. The comment was: "Oh really?" which in Japanese terms is the equivalent of a "WTF are you saying?" kind of reaction.
Bamboo is considered too heavy or too old fashioned. Bamboo Do is an item for celebrations or special occasions (Taikai? Examinations? Red Weddings?), surely not for daily practice. This was a discovery, too.

Are all these considerations meant for fashion victims only? Does it feel a bit like Giorgio Armani haute couture vs. Missoni knitwear ? Are we maybe forgetting that a bogu, for a kenshi, is much more than equipment, but that acquiring one is a significant (and emotional) step along the Way?
I leave it to my readers to decide. Comments are very welcome.
For sure, we are assisting to a very important shift in the Japanese market: Inner Beauty overpowers Flashy Outlook. There will a be lot more to write!

Hand stitched kinari kendogi

One thousand and two Kote

I wrote about the Tare, which I see a bit like the unsung hero of the Bogu. At the other side of the spectrum, here come the Kote.

Kote are valid targets. 

Kote are the only active, moving part of the Bogu. 

Kote are subject to a very high degree of wear and tear.

Having said so, it is pretty clear that the challenges a pair of Kote must face are multiple: supple means comfortable, but maybe not protective enough. Thick means safe, but maybe painful to break in. 

As my knowledge about Kote expanded, I realised there are more variables to take into account: why high level shiai-sha prefer Orizashi cotton to Deerskin? I have been in the National Team so long, I never considered having a specialised pair of Kote... a pair that would not sound as a valid ippon even when hit on the atama...

I started looking at my own Kote with a completely different eye.

Of course I own different pairs of Kote, because I own different Bogu, but since the wear and tear sometimes reaches levels that are beyond a reasonable recovery, I preferred have spare ones, in order to spread the fatigue caused by the friction of the Tsukagawa on the palm... I wear normally cotton gloves to absorb any perspiration and avoid the Kote getting wet: this seems to work nicely in prolonging the life of my best pairs. I would not go for anything else than hand-stitched, now, I find them more comfortable immediately and, why not, more beautiful than machine-stitched ones.

This much for personal tastes, so far. But knowledge brings consequences: there are so many customisable features in a Kote - all beyond my wildest dreams.

Ok, Orizashi cotton, Deerskin or Neo Leather: you can choose to be eco-friendly if you wish. That is the first big divide. 

Machine-stitched, Fit-stitched or Hand-stitched: I already stated my preference here. But then? 

Extra padding for the right arm is available - and in the fist, do you prefer Cotton or Deer Hair?

What about the inside lining? Bio-treated to prevent spreading Eau de Kote in your Bogu room (everybody should have a Bogu room) or with a nice pattern that you only can see? Hello Kitty patterned fabrics INSIDE the Kote seems to be a favourite among little Japanese girls - I am not joking.

And the himo? you can select the colour, to go with the rest of the kazari ito - but what about silk instead of rayon? 

I will not even mention all the aesthetic possibilities: Kazari Ito, Matsuri Ito or Yabane can have matching or contrasting colours....actually I developed a certain taste for Inden Deerskin on the Asadomegawa and on the Yukiwa. 

Asadomegawa

Asadomegawa

Yukiwa

                            

Yukiwa

Yoroi Kote are also becoming more popular, although there is no real practical difference in the flexibility of the fingers.

Yoroigata style

Finally the palm: a very sensitive topic - I saw Kote with palms so hard, torn, tattered and dirty that they would have been perfect in a zombie story. Please, do not do THAT to your Kote, there is no need and no excuse to get to that level ! Palms can be replaced or repaired before getting to the extreme horror. Neo Leather? Smoked deerskin? White, Blue or Deerskin colour? The sky is the limit.

The Thriller Kote

One last note, before the list becomes too long - THE MEASURES ! please, do not underestimate the importance of taking the measurements correctly. Have someone help you! It is not a shame, it is a MUST !

Around the palm

Palm Length

A good read for a rainy day: all the options available under the sun can be found HERE:

Kendo Kote Workshop by Tozando

Ignorance is blister.

I have been practising Kendo for two thirds of my life, which, being a European kenshi, puts me safely in the category "Survivors".
I have been travelling a lot, thanks to Kendo, too, and I can surely say I have seen much.
Now that I live and work in Japan, though, I discover myself prey of strange and unusual fits of fury. I cannot find a better word to describe my reaction to the daily, continuous discovery of new equipment items, be they custom-made shinai, high-tech summer kendogi or shiai-hyperspecialised kote.

It is a fact that in Japan the availability of new items is not something of today. In Europe we were still struggling with finding a bogu (any bogu) to start practice, while here the master craftsmen were creating all possible variation of  armour. Now we think that globalisation and internet shopping have changed all this, but believe, from where I stand, this is NOT true.

There are two main reasons: both of them are cultural and, in my opinion, both should be corrected, because they are in the way of our Kendo progress.

The first reason can be summarised in the "I-am-not-good-enough-for-it" Syndrome. "Would I look arrogant if I buy a bamboo Do?" "Will my sensei get angry at me if I buy a hand-stitched Bogu?" these are REAL questions I had to answer in my daily work. Apart for giving me a lot of thought regarding the moral standing of a sensei with an envious side, if the economical aspect is within your possibilities, striving to have the best equipment possible would be considered obvious in any other physical activity, make it ski or tennis, but even simple WALKING (would you go for too small or too large shoes?).
In Kendo, for some strangely ingrained attitude, it is good to suffer with wrong sized Bogu, it is healthy to bleed in badly padded and worn out Kote, it absolutely reasonable to get epicondylitis using too heavy, wrongly shaped shinai. Yes, because we are the descendant of the Samurai and suffering is our destiny.
Let me immediately tell you that the real descendants of the Samurai use equipments that fit their needs perfectly and if they have to show endurance you can be sure that is about fighting with all their heart and their might against the opponent, not against their equipment. Suffering because we have been sloppy (or extra-money-tight)  in selecting or sizing our Bogu is NOT GOOD.

The second cultural reason is, appropriately, lack of culture, meaning lack of information regarding what is available out there. There is A LOT. And be warned, there are also fashion items and badly thought-of inventions, but that is part of the game in a mature and extensive market, that offers so much.
When I started Kendo, oh gosh, it was lucky to receive one of the second-hand, student bogu the AJKF would donate every year. The Men was too big? a bit of padding et voila`! The Kote were torn? Endless afternoons of fun, punching your fingers with a needle. The Hakama was too short? Naked ankles are sexy after all. THOSE TIMES ARE OVER!
Just ask, the information are available, if you are searching for the right item for you, probably it is already OUT THERE! Ask, and do not buy blindly: there are reason why items have different prices even if they look the same, there are possibilities of customisations that not necessarily are reserved to kenshi millionaires, there is even room for some quirkiness, because we are individuals, even if we are all striving to hit Men-uchi in the same way.

Housen in the spotlight

When I came to Kyoto for the Enbu Taikai, last year, I met Housen for the first time. Actually, I did not know they were Housen - I just stopped in admiration in front of their stall, close to the Butokuden.
I was really impressed by the beauty of their shinai and bogu bags: the colours, the patterns and the obvious quality of the fabrics. No, at the moment I did not need a bogu bag or a shinai bag, but I wished I had an excuse to buy something. Mr. Hatano, the owner of this small family run company, took a picture of me, carrying around a fantastic, traditional patterned bougu/shinai set and told me it would be published on the new catalogue, together with those of  young, fierce looking Japanese kenshi and famous Hanshi sensei.
He kept his word. I became a fan.

It was therefore natural to enclose Housen products into Kyoto Budogu collection. Living in Kyoto and having keiko here, Housen bags immediately started to spring to my eyes wherever I went - and they were everywhere. How could that be, that I did not know about them before last year? I have an average of three shinai bags, full of shinai of course, in every place where I keep a bogu - that makes no less than 12 shinai bags, why I never got an elegant Housen one?
Being store manager of Kyoto Budogu, I felt the need to know more about these beautiful items and about the company itself. This year, again at the Kyoto Taikai, I took an appointment and together with my colleague Sara I devoted a Saturday to this little expedition.
Housen is based in Tatsuno, in Hyogo Prefecture and was established 27 years ago. Mr. Hatano came to pick us up at Himeji station and drove us to the factory. The company still retains the workshop feeling, since all items are order-made. I was hoping to find some ready assortment (I had my eyes already on a beautiful Ichimatsu shinai bag), but that was not the case. Each item is cut, embroidered and finished according to the specifications of the order. We sat in the showroom and we had tea, while we were introduced to the Hatano family (Mr., Mrs. daughter and son) and to the philosophy of the company.

First of all, we spoke about the embroidery, which plays a very important role. Housen offers very handsome bags, but also embroiders names, character and symbols on them, in a very high quality. The Kanji are made in a way that shows the "stroke of the brush", as if the calligrapher himself would have taken control of the computerised sewing machines that are used for this task. The name of the owner is never sewn on top - it would not be considerate respectful, since the body of the bag would carry usually the masterpiece of the calligrapher or some inspiring sentence, that should be pondered by the owner of the bag. Housen also takes responsibility to select the thread colours that would go together with the fabrics: no flashy contrasts are allowed, since - in the words of Mr. Hatano - "Housen bags are meant to last for decades and a flashy  look would bore and wear out the owner, who would abandon the bag well before the end of its lifespan. This is not desirable."
Housen bags are meant to last. The policy of the company is to create sturdy, beautiful objects that the Customer would buy again, not out of necessity, but out of admiration.

Mr. Hatano showed us the factory: the sewing machines for the embroidery, the stacks of leather and fabrics and the cutting templates, but also the details of the crafting of some items that were laying on the working tables. The painful care of each little detail left us in awe. He showed us also the prototypes - those which passed into production and those which didn`t - the new fabrics that will enter next year collection, the ways to optimise this manufacturing process, which remains time- and material-consuming. A special treat was to assist to a photo session, in a professional photographer`s studio. The pictures are used to create the new catalogue, but also to put the items in context, together with the kenshi who order them - high quality photos that appear in the advertisements on the celebrated Kendo Jidai pages.

We came back to Kyoto impressed by the thoroughness of their care and expertise, and more convinced than ever that offering Housen products on Kyoto Budogu is a privilege and a real honour.

The signature Ichimatsu fabrics

Housen label

Four of four: Furinkazan

The first question I wished to answer with my test was: why is Furinkazan by far the most popular shinai in Kyoto Budogu?

Well, for sure it is a beauty. The smoked bamboo has such an attractive colour that makes it a joy to see. 

It is also pretty clear that the quality of the bamboo is very high. 

I have in mind a parallel with red wine: only the best vintages are selected for storing and keeping and aging... only the superior grapes can be refined by time and by a further process. 

The same for bamboo: only the highest quality can become Furinkazan. No frail, stained or inferior bamboo would be economically viable for an additional treatment. This is simple, financial, common sense.

One factor is the look - then maybe the name. I quote from Wikipedia:

Fūrinkazan (風林火山), literally "Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain", was the battle standard used by the Sengoku period daimyo Takeda Shingen, quoting chapter 7 of Sun Tzu's The Art of War: "as swift as wind, as orderly as forest, as fierce as fire, as unshakeable as mountain."

Kagemusha has always been my favourite Kurosawa`s film, obviously I can instantly connect with the meaning of Furinkazan. Well, it is only a shinai, but the endless rows of ashigaru carring the 4 banners with the four colours of Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain on their backs is still an image I cannot shake.

Good, all this for the looks and the folklore. Let`s concentrate now on the function. 

Technically, Furinkazan is still a Dobari shinai. But... if I were to define the feeling of handling a Furinkazan, I could not find a better expression than "ZERO GRAVITY SHINAI".

Furinkanzan simply disappear in your hands. After testing the other shinai, I was always conscious of their main feature: the weight in the hands, the fast tip, the size or the shape of the grip. 

With Furinkazan none of the above applies. It is the NEUTRAL shinai. It does not offer any distraction, it is perfectly balanced, you simply forget about it. You only have to worry about your aite and about doing your "thing". It does not take your attention, it follows your movements without stressing your arms. It is like a docile, well trained dressage mare that makes every figure look natural and effortless.

The beautiful Furinkazan has definitely the gift of obedience. Very recommended for all.

Three of Four: Saga

It has taken me longer to evaluate the "High Performance" shinai Saga.
I had just experience the comforting feeling of the Suzaku, so easy to direct and control, and here I found myself handling something completely different.
Saga requires some time to master, because, in a sense, it places itself between a full Dobari and a regular shinai. The grip is larger (surely closer to Kyogoku, if not identical), but the balance is not completely moved towards the hands. The tip has still some weight, which could be welcome for sharpness`s sake, but that takes some time to understand and to adjust.
It is not a Prêt-à-Porter shinai: it needs to be discovered and extensively used to offer its full potential.
I have developed the impression that, in the Ladies`39 version, it remains a bit on the tip-heavy side - nevertheless the feeling of sheer power is still very evident: I guess it should be a really ferocious monster with the Men`s 39  weight.

The most underestimated part of the bogu

Of course, I am referring to the poor Tare. Not born to receive ippon, it offers passive protection and unassumingly recalls the noble shape of the ancient samurai yoroi. But after all, what do we know about the humble Tare?

First of all, a Tare is virtually immortal. The only part that really wears out is the obi, that gets brutally stretched every time we wear our bogu. If the quality of the cotton is good, the obi can last years without too much fatigue - and in any case it can require a repair that we (or Mum or spouse or dojo friend) can easily make. The Tare can discolour with time, but usually it does it gracefully and just as gracefully it can assume a nice bend which adds to its looks.

Having said that, it seems pretty clear you are going to be stuck with your Tare for a very long time, unless you are the kind of kenshi that alternates several bogu or that can follow the fancy of purchasing the odd spare part from time to time. Your Tare, most of the times, is there to stay.
So, what can be the criteria to select your Tare? Everyone would yell: "The more kazari ito, the better!", but this is a bit of trite way to evaluate the Tare of (half) of our Kendo life. Let`s recall the features that could be worthwhile exploring in our selection.

Number one: the weight.
In my Kendo career I stumbled upon very different Tare, whose weight would really span from the terribly heavy to the light as a feather. Given the fact that a Tare should protect, but not create an obstacle, in my opinion, the lighter, the better. The trend nowadays goes in this direction, luckily - the safety aspect is taken care of, but also the comfort is guaranteed. Tare are now lighter, thanks to the different types of padding employed and to the new ways of stitching. Let`s not forget that the Tare, together with the Men, has the wider extension of stitched Futon - the way it is stitched can play an important role.
One discovery that really impressed me has been the Fukuro Nui: literally, the "bag sewing". Ordinary Tare are made of a sandwich of material and padding, which are kept together by stitching and then hemmed with neo-leather or deerskin strips. Actually, we have grown so accustomed to this way of building the Tare, that we consider the hemming as an integral part of the overall decoration, just as the aforementioned kazari ito. In truth, thanks to the Fukuru Nui, the need for hemming is gone: the odare and kodare are made instead as bags, filled with padding, so there`s no necessity to reinforce the hem. The Tare becomes miraculously light and the look definitely changes: the beauty of the Tare sits in the very visible stitching and not anymore in the hemming (which, by the way, is very often subject to much more stress, even when sitting lazily in the bogu bag). I have become a big fan of Fukuro Nui: maybe it is an acquired taste, I think it is going to grow.

Fukuro nui Tare

Fukuro nui Tare

Number Two: the look.
There is much more than the kazari ito. I think the best decorative part sits in the kawakazari, which is actually BELOW and ABOVE the kazari ito. You can choose the shape of it (clouds and spades and hearts and arabesques and...), but the most striking feature is the way these shapes are designed: it could be an additional layer of neo-leather or deerskin, or, my favourite, an extra-dense superimposed stitching: kumogata vs kumozashi. Needless to say, the less layers, the lighter - I stick with my initial priority.

kumozashi

kumogata

Regarding the kazari ito, I don`t want to sound too snob and do not consider them at all in the picture. But I must say, I tend to favour contrasting kazari ito - crimson or dark green or tobacco-brown look AMAZING on indigo, I have seen so many examples by now that I would get as far as saying I could one day have a bogu all built with some striking colour contrast like that. After all, who cares, I am not going to take part in any All Japan Kendo Championship and in my old age I can be excused for some little quirks.