Ma-ai in embu

[David Dunn]

Welcome to pseud's corner.

I've had this developing idea over the past two or three years about embu in relation to other Zen arts which I've mentioned here before. If anyone has listened to Japanese flute music, or seen a calligrapher at work or seen Zen dancing, one thing that is striking is the amount of 'nothing' that is going on, punctuated by flurries of 'something' (notes, brushstrokes, steps). The nothing is, for want of a better word, pregnant with the anticipation of something. In other words it's a tangible something.

The passage below is what made me think of this again, although I did try to explain it in my dojo a few weeks ago. The 'nothing' is 'mu', a Zen concept. Most of us think of 'ma' as 'distance' in a narrow sense. Ma means 'space' or 'interval', and can be taken in the sense of spatial interval (distance) or temporal interval (pause?), and the 'ai' means that the space is harmonized. In embu, we conceive of it as 'six sequences' and the pauses in between are to get ready for the next action. In other words we spend 99% of our time working on the 'action'. To put embu on par with other performances of zen arts, shouldn't the 'bits in between' be treated as no more, and no less important that the sequences of action? Indeed, shouldn't it be a seamless whole from gassho to gassho? Anyway, here's Eric Herrigel on Zen painting.



What is the characteristic of these paintings? First of all, space. But space in Zen painting in not our Western space with its various dimensions - a uniform medium in which things stand, which surrounds them and isolates them from one another. Not a dead emptiness which can be displaces by objects and is confined to the visible relations between right and left, top and bottom, foreground and background. Not a space that touches only the surface of the object, enclosing it like a skin and therefore, where there is nothing in it, void of meaning, and undemanding background. Space in Zen painting is forever unmoved and yet in motion, it seems to live and breathe, it is formless and empty and yet the source of all form, it is nameless and yet the reason everything has a name. Because of it things have an absolute value, and all equally important and meaningful, exponents of the universal life that flows through them. This explains the profound significance, in Zen painting, of leaving things out. What is not suggested, not said, is more important and expressive that what is said...

... The Zen painter therefore has no horror vacui [abhorence of the idea of the void - see Aristotle]; for him the Void is worthy of the highest veneration; it is the most moving thing of all, so overflowing with life that is need not assume shape and form.


(From The Method of Zen).

Is the performance of embu the equivalent to the performance of a calligrapher, painter or actor in Zen?

[yoj]

Nice post.

I cant answer the question directly, but didn't Musashi say a sword never stops moving even when it's still? An immediate analogy in every day life is a car steering wheel, it never stops - even on a straight road where it doesn't move.

I may have just made all that up, and I may also have totally missed the point....

[Ewok]

Something that stood out for me in Japan with the embu was the distinct and often long 'breaks' into between sections. I like to think of it like a dramatic pause :p

[Tripitaka of AA]

It's a beautiful post David, and the topic is totally valid. Your comments reminded me of the shadowy, playing with light, portraits and studies by Rembrandt. Sometimes the whole painting seems to be a black shadowy room, with one puddle of light just falling on half a face... yet the story told is amazing. So intriguing, so enthralling... pulling you in to the world that the artist was inhabiting.

A good Embu can certainly be made to do the same. It may not need to be Zen, just more Art.

Anyone old enough to remember the Figure Skater John Curry might recall the contrast between his choreographed works of "Art" and the workmanlike sports performance of his competitors. They would be stringing together difficult moves and the only attention to the linking moves would be for the purpose of measuring the speed for the jumps, etc. His routine would tell a story, have elements of mime and ballet, and could portray emotion like the finest piece of musical theatre.


So David, do you feel that the BSKF may be able to raise the bar for foreign Kenshi at this years Taikai? Are there some good Embu that are about to get even better? I hope we get to see some posted here eventually :).

[David Dunn]

It's just an ongoing idea for me David. The embu I want to emulate are Arai and Yamazaki's or Kawashima and Fuji's. It's easy to discern that there's a different quality to it. If you only look at the technical expertise of the waza, that can't explain it by itself.

I've given advice about rhythm and length of sequences for example. Typically kyu kenshi produce a sequence that would have maybe 12 or even 20 counts, with a very flat rhythm, 1,2,3,4,5,.... So I'd say - make it shorter and use different rhythms, like 1,2... 3,4,5 nage. The typical response is "how can we fill up 120 seconds like that?" At that point you look at the expert embus above and realise that the sequences are very short and punctuate a lot of space (ma). It's not a large leap to compare it with the flurries you hear in zen flute playing etc. The space is never 'empty', because both performers are deep in mekubari, zanshin, making constant slight adjustments to position and building kihaku.

My caveat here is that competition embu are different. The judges have a set of guidelines to judge you by, and the large part of that is going to be technical accuracy. Hono embu is, IMO, the highest expression of Shorinji Kempo, and therefore the most difficult to get to.

[Tripitaka of AA]

Oh boy, now I'm going to go all crass and heathen again...

Jackie Chan!

Watch the choreography in his movies. Ignore the Hollywood movies where he has no time to dvelop or create a memorable routine due to production schedules. Looking at the movies where he has been given time to work on the routines with his Stunt Team, you can see how his skills as a choreographer have improved since the 80s movies. Again, it is all down to rhythm, timing and the gaps between the blows. He uses a lot less movements and a lot more variety in the pace than in the older films. It's a world away from Zen, but it is getting there!