Chiburi is a modern reading of a word that appears in the densho of Eishin-ryu as either 血振 or 血震. The original pronunciation is most likely chiburui, which is the reading you find if you look the word up in a Japanese dictionary such as Iwanami Shoten’s Kojien. In his book Koryu Iai no Hondo, the late Iwata Norikazu quotes another Eishin-ryu teacher, Morita Tadahiko, as being correct in his assertion that “chiburui” is the accurate term and that “chiburi” is in fact a mistaken reading (the word “chiburi” that appears in the dictionary actually refers a method of preparing fish). Iwata sensei also notes that both Oe Masamichi and his own teacher, Mori Shigeki, referred to the motion as “chiburui.” However, for the purposes of this article I will use the term “chiburi” as that is what most people are familiar with, and for better or worse it has become common parlance in most iai circles.

Most beginners learning iaido will be taught that the motion of chiburi is intended to fling the blood from the tip of the sword after cutting. In most books on iaido too, chiburi is described as serving this purpose. Muso Jikiden Eishin-ryu and Muso Shinden-ryu also contain chinugui (wiping the blood from the blade with a cloth, paper or the fingers) in a small number of techniques in the first teaching level of Omori-ryu (Shoden/Seiza no bu). In Muso Jikiden Eishin-ryu at least, this is technically done by putting one hand inside one’s hakama and using that to wipe the blade. In practice however, the shape is performed but the blade is not really wiped on the hakama. According to Mori Shigeki, this is because this because the oil used on swords in Oe sensei’s day would soil the clothes.

Despite more people becoming aware of it recently, the idea that chiburi isn’t really a practical method of removing blood from the blade is not recent – it has been expressed by teachers in Japan for a long time. Kono Hyakuren, 20th soke of Muso Jikiden Eishin-ryu, wrote in his book Iaido Shintei:

“Chiburui: this takes the form of shaking blood off your sword and onto the ground. However in my experience, when cutting with a sword very little blood actually gets stuck to the blade. Nevertheless, placing emphasis on zanshin and spirit through the form of chiburui makes it a useful tool for development.”

Kono sensei was not alone in his understanding of chiburi primarily as a method of developing zanshin. Nakayama Hakudo wrote:

“In batto, chiburi is always performed in each kata before sheathing the sword. This motion cannot clean blood from the blade completely, but it should be thought of as a purifying action. The period between chiburi and noto is very important in battojutsu, as it is a manifestation of zanshin in the kata. Every school of iaido has a different set method of performing this action. A few peculiar methods are as follows:

“In Kanshin-ryu, a piece of paper kept inside the kimono (kaishi, 懐紙) is used to wipe the blade clean.

“In [Shindo] Munen-ryu, the sword is pointed downwards so the blood drips off the tip. The sword is then brought around in an arc to the left side of the body, thus flicking the blood off the blade.

“In Hazama-ryu, the sword is rested on the left shoulder, and the blood wiped off onto the shoulder.

“In Fuchishin-ryu, the sword is pinched between thumb and forefinger, which are drawn from the base of the blade to the tip to wipe off the blood.

“In Hayashizaki Hon-ryu, the sword is held in the right hand and first brought in a small motion to the left, then in a large motion to the right before sheathing.

“Other schools such as Omori-ryu, Kikusui-ryu, Kaishi-ryu, Tamiya-ryu, Shingan-ryu, Tetchu-ryu, Hasegawa-ryu and so on also all perform chiburi differently. In addition, there are schools that do not perform chiburi at all. Some schools will discard the saya behind them after drawing the sword, showing the determination of the swordsman as he instills his entire being into the sword. Discarding the saya expresses the swordsman’s preparedness to die in combat (sutemi, 捨身) – once the sword is drawn, it will not be returned to the sheath. In Kyoto, I saw a man perform this kind of chiburi under the title of ‘Takayama-ryu.’ However, I look upon this as an exception to the general rule.”

Tatsumi ryu does not perform chiburi, but brings the sword to chudan, expressing zanshin before noto.

Here Nakayama sensei asserts that while not all schools practice what we would today term chiburi, all seem to have an emphasis on zanshin before resheathing, which in many schools is manifested in the simulated or actual cleaning of the blade. Schools of iai that perform chiburi largely seem to be from the Hayashizaki family of ryuha, such as Tamiya-ryu, Mugai-ryu, Suio-ryu and Shinmuso Hayashizaki-ryu. In schools that are not descended from Hayashizaki we often find other forms of cleaning the blade. A form that does not seem to appear in Hayashizaki-derived schools is kaiten chiburi, where the sword is spun in the hand and the tsuka struck. This can be seen in venerable ryuha such as Tenshin Shoden Katori Shinto-ryu, Kashima Shinto-ryu and some lines of Takenouchi-ryu. Other non-Hayashizaki schools, such as Seigo-ryu/Shinkage-ryu, Hoki-ryu, Sosuishi-ryu, Tatsumi-ryu and so on may completely omit chiburi, opting instead for chinugui or, to an outside observer such as myself, apparently nothing at all. Of course third-party observation can only take us so far – for example, discussions with an experienced practitioner of Hoki-ryu revealed that while the school may seem not to have any blade-cleaning portions of its kata, chinugui motions are actually concealed in the noto itself. Despite the numerous differences between ryuha, however, I have yet to encounter a school that does not display clear zanshin – whether expressed during the act of cleaning the sword or otherwise – before sheathing the weapon.

It should also be noted that in the quotation above, Nakayama Hakudo uses the word chiburi to refer to methods of cleaning that technically fall under chinugui, and even terms the act of discarding the saya in Takayama-ryu a kind of chiburi (albeit a rare and unusual one). This suggests that perhaps chiburi has in the past been used as something of a blanket term covering all kinds of sword cleaning, ritual purification or other acts expressing zanshin prior to resheathing. If so, this may have contributed to the myth of chiburi being ubiquitous.

To return to the ryuha with which I am a little more familiar, I would like to examine chiburi in Muso Jikiden Eishin-ryu and Muso Shinden-ryu. In these very closely-related schools, chiburi takes two basic forms (with some variations). The first type that students will encounter is the signature chiburi of Omori-ryu. This is commonly referred to as o-chiburi (大血振), meaning ‘large chiburi,’ and is performed by bringing the sword’s tsuka to the right temple and swinging the tip in an arc as if cutting down the migi kesa line. Depending on the teacher, the exact path of the blade and the point where it finishes its swing varies, but fundamentally the motion is the same. The other form of chiburi is commonly called yoko-chiburi (横血振) or kochiburi (小血振), and is done by moving the sword to one’s right with the blade parallel to the floor, edge pointing to the right. This motion is usually done sharply, although again it does depend on teacher and lineage. Despite a sharpness of motion however, it should be apparent that yoko-chiburi is not practical for removing blood. O-chiburi, according to the quotations above, is also impractical; but it is less of a stretch to imagine it working to some extent. Yoko-chiburi on the other hand is quite clearly never going to remove blood from the blade.

Masaoka sensei

So why is this motion called chiburi? The truth is that the large swing done in Omori-ryu has been called chiburi for a considerable length of time. Consulting the Omori-ryu sections of Edo-period densho from both Shimomura-ha and Tanimura-ha Eishin-ryu proves this. However when we move on to Hasegawa Eishin-ryu (Chuden and Okuiai) itself, the word suddenly vanishes from the densho. In descriptions of both Omori-ryu (where it appears twice) and Hasegawa Eishin-ryu (where it appears in every waza), what is commonly referred to today as yoko-chiburi is called “opening” (開き) or “opening to the right” (右に開き). It is not once referred to as chiburi. The idea of this motion as “shaking blood off the blade” may have originated later, perhaps as a conflation of the two. Masaoka Katsutane, 18th generation Muso Jikiden Eishin-ryu Kongen no Maki (Menkyo Kaiden), wrote about this in his book Muso Jikiden Eishin ryu Iaiheiho Chi no Maki:

“In Omori-ryu, before noto chiburi is performed in the form of a large sweep of the sword from over the head. In Eishin-ryu however, before noto you ‘open to the right,’ as in the Omori-ryu waza Yaegaki.

“This ‘opening the right’ has today come to be referred to as a ‘small chiburi.’ One day after the war I was teaching iai to children in Kochi when one child asked, in the direct way children do: ‘sensei, would that really shake the blood off the blade?’ I thought about it a great deal, and re-read all the densho I had in my possession, and found that nowhere in any densho is this motion referred to as chiburi. Instead it is called ‘opening to the right.’ Therefore I came to the conclusion that Omori-ryu chiburi is a combination of shaking blood from the blade, expressing zanshin and preparing for noto, and from Eishin-ryu onwards the motion is for zanshin and noto preparation only.”

Further examination of the surviving pre-modern densho of Tosa Eishin ryu reveals that while there is a distinct lack of references to chiburi, there are some parts in high level documents that describe special methods for quickly cleaning a sword when it needs to be resheathed swiftly. Significantly, these methods are variants of chinugui. This stands out in contrast against the form taken in kata, where in almost all cases the sword is immediately returned to the saya following chiburi or “opening to the right.” Chinugui, as mentioned above, is seen by many as a practical way of cleaning the sword, and it seems that practitioners of Eishin-ryu in the Edo period were under no illusions otherwise. It is quite plausible that in Eishin-ryu chinugui was advocated for blade cleaning in real situations, but was simply omitted from the majority of kata. The major cultural shift away from carrying swords in everyday life, and the subsequent change to the modern structure and teaching approaches of Muso Jikiden Eishin-ryu and Muso Shinden-ryu could easily have led to this knowledge becoming lost to most practitioners.

Looking at this evidence, we can conclude that what we today term chiburi was probably not originally intended to be a practical cleaning method. As the sensei I have quoted from above all seem to agree, it is far more likely that the form of chiburi that appears in most iai waza was developed in order to cultivate zanshin. This is also supported by available historical evidence. In some cases perhaps chiburi is also a kind of ceremonial purification, or perhaps it also acts as a placeholder for chinugui in the context of formal waza. This is of course not a surprising conclusion – I am sure most people realise this already. However I hope that by providing some historical context, we can come a little closer to understanding the true purpose behind the actions we are learning.

Sources:
『古流居合の本道』　岩田憲一著　スキージャーナル株式会社発行　2002年
『居合道真諦』　河野百錬著　1962年
『中山博道剣道口述集』　中山博道著　堂本昭彦編　スキージャーナル株式会社発行　2007年
『無雙直傳英信流居合兵法地之巻』　政岡壹實著　無双直伝英信流居合兵法大江派湖刀会本部発行　1974年

The question of the pros and cons of tameshigiri for those of us studying swordsmanship today has been covered in a previous article by SangWooKim. In this article, I would instead like to look at the opinions on tameshigiri held by two of the most highly-regarded swordsmen of the modern period.

Takano Sasaburō (1862-1950) and Nakayama Hakudō (1872-1958) were two of the most important figures in the development of modern kendo (see this article for more information). Practitioners of both classical swordsmanship and the more modern forms of shinai keiko, their ways of thinking shaped the sword arts that we practise today. As such their opinions on kendo and swordsmanship in general are quite pertinent to those studying both modern and koryu arts. The following is a translation of their respective thoughts on tameshigiri.

Takano Sasaburo – Helmet Cutting

Takano Sasaburō

Cutting rolled up straw mats (巻藁, makiwara) is just like a silly game for children. It is of no importance. Tameshigiri in the past was done on iron helmets.

The men who demonstrated helmet cutting in front of the Meiji Emperor were Ueda Yoshitada (Umanosuke), Kajikawa Yoshimasa, Itsumi Sōsuke and Sakakibara Kenkichi. [Note: this event took place in 1886 and featured the use of sword, spear and bow against iron helmets. Kajikawa did not in fact take part.]

Sakakibara was quite meticulous, and had his student check the sword before he cut. Of all the participants, Sakakibara was the one who cut the deepest.

Suemonogiri (据物切, the cutting of placed objects) is rather difficult, so the helmet was stuffed with warm cooked rice, which also made the helmet warm. If there had been nothing inside the helmet, the sword would simply have broken. Steamed lees of bean curd can also be used for this purpose.

It is important to know the height of the object you are cutting. It is for this reason that now and then you hear of laymen being able to cut something when kendo teachers cannot. In times past, the height of the stand was set at three shaku (91cm). In any case, if the helmet is empty, upon cutting it will resound with a clang and the sword will snap.

It should also be noted that silk is very difficult to cut. If the silk is soaked in warm water, it becomes even more difficult to cut.

Nakayama Hakudo – Tameshigiri for Maturing One’s Iai

Nakayama Hakudō

Tameshigiri is something that should be done after many long years of iai training, once one has reached a certain level of licensed proficiency [允許 - traditionally, this is the level of license typically required for a student to open their own dojo.] Tameshigiri allows one to adapt the iai kata to real cutting practice. In other words, iai should be the core, and the application of the kata in tameshigiri should be secondary. However, today many people totally ignore the preservation of correct sword methodology and technique and merely cut things. As a result, tameshigiri has unfortunately come to be thought of as an independent practice. Thus, the most important points of sword technique, such as the three separate classifications of hasuji, are being forgotten. To put it another way, every kind of battō uses the sword blade in a different way. There is no absolutely fixed way of doing things. Even in a single kata, at first you may cut with the first two or three sun (寸, approx. 3.03cm) of the blade, then the second cut may be with the central portion of the blade. Understanding this distinction is essential.

Of course, the way the blade is used changes depending on the target and your distance from it. There are times when you must cut with the base of the blade, times when you must use the centre and times when you must use the tip. If sufficient consideration is not given to these points, the sword methodology will be incorrect. However iai today has mixed these points up and become very confused. Moreover, there is a lack of enthusiasm for serious study. Together these issues have caused tameshigiri to become merely the act of cutting, without altering one’s posture at all. Needless to say, simply cutting without preserving the procedure of adopting correct distance, the method of zanshin and the various cutting techniques of each kata is something completely removed from the traditional approach to tameshigiri.

I want you to be aware that tameshigiri in iaido is something that occurs at the very highest levels. Therefore in combination with normal iai kata training, I have incorporated mizugiri (水切り) – the practice of cutting standing water without raising a splash – into my standing iai kata. The last three or four sun of the blade are used to cut. The cut is made straight downwards, and not a single drop of water should be splashed up. The next kind of tameshigiri is yukizumi (雪積み), which trains horizontal cutting. For this, snow is packed tightly into a mound less than one shaku (30.3cm) in height, and then used as a target for nukiuchi practice with the central portion of the blade.

Nakayama Hakudo after performing waragiri

The next type is waragiri (藁切り), which uses stacked rolls of straw mats. Each mat should be between 5 and 7 sun (15.2-21.2cm) in thickness and at each level another mat should be added, up to a maximum of six mats. This type of tameshigiri can be included in standing kata, using the part of the blade between the centre and the tip. Depending on the ryuha and kata, the straw can be replaced with other objects such as bamboo, wooden planks, standing trees and living things [Note: here Nakayama uses the word 生物. It is unclear whether he is referring to plants or animals]. This form of cutting can therefore be adapted for use with many different kata.

After exploring this kind of cutting sufficiently, you can begin to practise the highest level of tameshigiri: usumonogiri (薄物切り, lit. the cutting of very thin material). For this, a single sheet of paper is placed on a wooden board. The aim of this technique is to cut the paper without leaving a scratch on the wood. This is the ultimate level of technique – a method of studying hand control and the ability to stop a cut. To perfect the ability to do this with a nukiuchi technique requires an almost unreachable level of skill. It is something close to the ideal way of cutting. I dare say that it is highly unlikely that anyone since Hayashizaki Jinsuke sensei has been able to perfect this technique. The documents of Hayashizaki-ryū make this clear.

In essence, all kata ultimately contain an element of cutting, and the practise of cutting in this way is called tameshigiri or tameshigatana (試し刀). This has a very different meaning to the tameshigiri practised today. Tameshigiri is meant to be done as an accompaniment to kata, not independently.

Taking waragiri as an example, even if you cut dozens of times in a row without pause, you should maintain perfect spacing for every cut, and preserve a layer of straw beneath each cut. You should cut through one or two rolls of straw without touching the roll beneath. When cutting horizontally you should be able to cut through a roll and back again without a single piece falling. Every cut you leave in the straw should be perpendicular and smooth. As another example, you should cut planks of wood perfectly horizontally or vertically regardless of how the grain runs.

In addition, there are many kinds of techniques that involve cutting bamboo hung from the ceiling by paper or thread without breaking the thread or tearing the paper, or cutting bamboo thrown in the air into three pieces. However these are a kind of trick; they are just cutting techniques, and cannot be called tameshigiri. In my opinion these do not serve any purpose. If you compare these tricks to real tameshigiri, there are so many levels of disconnect between them that there is no overlap in their purpose at all.

I have heard of some people who cannot perform these kinds of tricks, cannot do tameshigiri as part of kata, and cannot even perform iai correctly, but act as though they are masters with forty or fifty years of hard training under their belts, and filled with pride, perform public exhibitions of so-called tameshigiri. What truly pathetic people, as ignorant as frogs in a well [Note: “a frog in a well knows nothing of the wide ocean” is a well-known proverb in Japan.] It is true that I myself have done displays entitled ‘tameshigiri’ in front of the Emperor and at large taikai, but that was only because I was the most senior person there in terms of age. Inside, I felt quite embarrassed. Sometimes I could not stand the embarrassment and performed the display under the title of suemonogiri instead.

I have tried many different kinds of object cutting: kirikuzushi (切り崩し), kaeshigiri (返し切り), kirifuse (切り伏せ), kiriotoshi (切り落とし), kiritsume (切り詰め), gyakukaeshigiri (逆返し切り), ōjigiri (応じ切り), deawasegiri (出会わせ切り) and so on. However I have never succeeded in making a single satisfactory cut. Today when I practise dōshonibangiri (同所二番切り, lit. a second cut in the same place) – where a single cut is made halfway through the target, and a second cut is made in precisely the same place to cleanly complete the cut – it is only a poor imitation of the real thing. Thirteen of my direct students are hanshi, and thirty-six are kyōshi, but I have not once given them permission to do public displays of tameshigiri. Perhaps in the future there will be someone to whom I will grant permission, but currently [1956] there is no-one whom I can foresee earning it. The future of the practice looks quite bleak, almost hopeless in fact. I would like to earnestly request that my students partake of a deep and serious study of tameshigiri. I would also like those who are not my direct students to understand the practice, and make effort to progress in this area.

Sources:
『高野佐三郎 剣道遺稿集』　堂本昭彦（編）　スキージャーナル刊　2007年
『中山博道剣 道口述集』　中山善道・稲村栄一（著）堂本昭彦（編）　スキージャーナル刊　2007年

On Thursday May 23, 2009 two Japanese carpenters arrived, right on time, to install a pair of shoji at Ken Zen Dojo. It was not quite 3 weeks since my first appearance in the Kyoto Taikai.

When we moved into our new dojo location, in 2000, it never occurred to me that I might participate in Kyoto Taikai. But after I passed 6-dan in the summer of 2007, I knew it might be possible. When I applied for, and received Renshi, in the summer of 2008, the goal was nearly in sight.

As number 6 on the East side, I was in the very first group of Iaidoka. Luckily for me, I was in the back row. Waiting on the bench with the other members of the first group, I could hear the gentleman sitting next to me, who looked about my age, breathing deeply, just as I was. The younger members of the group were either not breathing at all, or hiding it better than the two of us.

For several months prior to the moment of stepping out onto the floor, I had been visualizing how it would go. I had the advantage of having taken part in the 1997 World Iaido Festival’s embu in the Butokuden. I had stopped by to look in the Butokuden on several trips to Kyoto, as well. Whenever the doors were open, indicating a practice in progress, I would climb up the steps and peer in.

All the preparation, though necessary, wasn’t quite the same as actually stepping on to the floor. Recalling other superb floors in Japan didn’t give me a full sense-image of this one. Some of that has to be because this floor, and the rest of the building, are soaked in budo history.

Budo history is also embodied in the 8th-dan Sensei who watched from the judges’ table. Watching, that is, until it was their turn to step out on to the floor.

When my time came, I didn’t do quite the set I had prepared. It seemed too crowded for ZNKR Iaido #7 (Sanpo Giri), and I didn’t trust my legs enough to stand up into Omori Ryu #5 (Yaegaki). Watching later embu, it seemed clear that there was enough room, at least for other people, to do ZNKR #7.

Regardless of my caution, it was thrilling to perform Omori Ryu, Eishin Ryu and ZNKR Iaido kata in the historic hall.

To celebrate, I bought lunch for my friends that day, and on returning to New York, the shoji.