Kategorie: Allgemein

At long last, the Tō’on-ryū article is about to be published — a long-awaited article that will finally see completion after nearly two years of dedicated work.

The idea to write an article on Tō’on-ryū emerged quite early. Initially, the focus was intended to be on Iraha Chōkō (1901–1986). However, after Ikeda Jūshū sensei, the 4th Sōke of Tō’on-ryū, read our first contribution in Gekkan Hiden (2024/1) — an article about a karate demonstration led by Kyan Chōtoku — he asked us to prepare a comprehensive article on Tō’on-ryū. We were, of course, very happy to accept this request.

By that time, however, we had already established a clear conceptual sequence for a planned series of articles on Okinawan karate. The series was to begin with Hanashiro Chōmo’s obituary for Yabu Kentsū (2024/7), followed by a study of the kata “Jion” (2024/9), two overseas karate demonstrations connected to Yabu Kentsū (2024/11), and then an article on Miyagi Chōjun — a close friend and training partner of Kyoda Jūhatsu — and his visit to the Hawaiian Islands in 1934 (2025/2).

For this reason, the articles first had to be published in this specific order before the Tō’on-ryū article could appear. In the meantime, the Gekkan Hiden editorial team asked us to write an additional piece on the Nihon Kobudō Taikai demonstration (2025/5). At the same time, we developed the idea for another article written in collaboration with Koyama Masashi sensei (2025/7). Both of these articles have since been published.

We completed the first draft of the Tō’on-ryū article in January 2025 and submitted it to Ikeda sensei for review. To our great satisfaction, he was very pleased with the result. Moreover, as chance would have it, two fortunate developments occurred that we were later able to incorporate into the final version of the article. (I will discuss these at a later time.)

Ikeda Jūshū sensei – Beppu, January 2025

Now, the wait has been worthwhile: the editorial revisions are complete, and the first part of the article will today go to print. The beginning of the Tō’on-ryū series can therefore be expected in December 2025.

Last weekend, I spent my time in Düsseldorf, the capital of North Rhine-Westphalia.

As many already know, we have been publishing our interviews with masters from Okinawa for almost two years. One of these interviews, which we conducted last year and which was published in March of this year, was with Ōshiro Zen’ei Sensei. Ōshiro Sensei lived in Düsseldorf for a period and came into contact with Japanese guests there. One of these Japanese, Hiura Sensei, also discovered Matayoshi Kobudō for himself and founded the Okinawa Kobudo Verband Deutschland e.V. in 1986, which will celebrate its 40th anniversary next year.

Before traveling to Düsseldorf, we spent a few days in Belgium. On Friday, we continued to the Rhine metropolis. After checking in, we first made a detour to our favorite Japanese restaurant to enjoy Japanese cuisine once again … 

The seminar with Ōshiro Sensei began on Saturday and lasted for two intensive days. I already knew some of the participants from Pforzheim, while others were new faces. Like almost all Kobudō seminars, this one began with the Bō, including Hojo-Undō Dai Ichi, Ni, and San, before moving on to the two kata developed by Ōshiro Sensei: Kiso Ichi and Kiso Ni – of course, followed by partner exercises.

After a short break, the training continued with Tunkwa. Here, too, we started with Hojo-Undō and partner exercises before practicing the kata Kiso Ichi. As always, the day passed far too quickly.

In the evening, the seminar shifted to the more relaxed part of the weekend: We went to a traditional German restaurant to unwind and enjoy ourselves.

The second day began at 10:00 a.m., and we picked up right where we had left off on Saturday. On the program were Tunkwa Kiso Ichi and the kata Matayoshi no Tunkwa Dai Ichi, followed by training with the Sai, again including Hojo-Undō and kata practice. The last thirty minutes were devoted to the Kama, concluding with the kata “Kama no Tī.”

During the seminar, I took the opportunity to ask Ōshiro Sensei a question about the Sanseru of the Shōdōkan. I also had my author’s copy of Toshiya signed and picked up the second volume of his latest book – I had already had the first volume signed last year in Pforzheim.

In the coming days, I will write a more detailed report about the Sanseru …

And, as a delightful coincidence, the weekend coincided with “Karate no Hi” in Okinawa – a nice touch that made the experience even more special.

In the past few days, I have been asked several times about the translation of Koyama Sensei’s book on Miyagi Chôjun (1888–1953).

It will still take a few days until the book is finished. The rough translation is already done; now the focus is on carefully proofreading the text. I will go through the first draft, then my wife will check the second draft. After that, we will work on the images, tables, and other materials. Only when everything is perfect will the final editing take place – to ensure that all names are translated consistently – and only then will the index be created.

Here is a small preview: what Miyagi Chôjun thought about lying:

My father hated lying. One time, my sister was playing with her friends and wouldn’t let me join. So I told my sister, “Big sister, father is calling you,” and sent her home. But when I got home, I was scolded hard: “You lied! When did father say to call your sister?” I was severely punished. He said, “If you lie this much now, who knows what kind of lies you’ll tell when you grow up! I’ll punish you hard.” He hit me until the battledore (a large wooden paddle used for a traditional New Year’s game) broke. It was a big wooden battledore that was displayed on the floor during New Year’s. I was beaten until it fell apart. Since hitting with hands can be dangerous, he used the paddle to hit me…

Let’s follow his advice !!!

Our series “Masters from Okinawa” is slowly but steadily picking up speed. Recently, the fourth interview was released – this time with Higa Kiyohiko from the Bugeikan.

At the moment, two more interviews are in preparation, while three others are still awaiting transcription.

If there is strong interest, an English-language version of the series could also be possible.

Anyone with an idea for another interview guest is welcome to get in touch.

Introduction

In academic work—particularly within the humanities and cultural studies—proofreading and editing play a central role in ensuring quality. In historical karate research, which operates at the intersection of history, anthropology, and movement studies, this task is especially demanding: proximity to sources, linguistic precision, and the balance between technical language and readability are essential criteria. The so-called “Fresh-Eye Review” principle offers a particularly effective method for enhancing the scholarly integrity and clarity of a text.

Concept and Definition of the “Fresh-Eye Review”

The “Fresh-Eye Review” refers to a form of revision in which a person—or the author themself, after a deliberate period of distance—reviews a text with “fresh eyes.” The goal is to break habitual patterns of thinking and reading. Through temporal or personal distance from the manuscript, errors, ambiguities, and weaknesses in argumentation can be detected that were previously overlooked due to “author blindness.”

In editorial practice, this means that the editor or reviewer does not only focus on orthographic or grammatical correctness, but reads the text from a neutral, unbiased perspective. This attitude fosters a critical yet constructive evaluation of argumentative logic, source interpretation, and terminological consistency.

Application in the Context of Historical Karate Research

Historical karate research poses unique challenges to the academic writing process. Sources often exist in multiple languages (Japanese, Okinawan, Chinese, English) and are culturally as well as contextually complex. As a result, shifts in translation and interpretation can easily occur, which may distort the scholarly substance of a study.

A Fresh-Eye Review can help address the following problem areas in a targeted way:

1. Terminological Precision – The reviewer ensures that technical terms such as bunkai, kata, or kihon are used consistently and correctly within their historical context.
2. Source-Critical Coherence – Through a distanced perspective, it can be verified whether historical references are properly documented and logically connected.
3. Argumentative Clarity – The “fresh look” helps identify inconsistencies or circular reasoning that may have escaped the author during the writing process.
4. Interdisciplinary Comprehensibility – Since karate research often bridges history, ethnology, and movement studies, the Fresh-Eye Review ensures that terms and theses remain accessible to an interdisciplinary audience.

Methodological Implementation

In practice, the Fresh-Eye Review can be realized in two ways:

• Self-Review after a Period of Distance: The author sets the text aside for several days or weeks after completion and then reviews it anew with fresh perception.
• Peer Review by a Third Party: An experienced editor or scholar who was not involved in the writing process performs the review. Ideally, this person should have an understanding of historical methodology and karate-specific terminology, without being “institutionally blind” to the content.

A combined approach—first self-review, then an external Fresh-Eye Review—has proven particularly effective.

Benefits for Academic Quality

The Fresh-Eye Review strengthens the scholarly integrity and editorial precision of a work. It contributes to transparency of argumentation, improves readability, and minimizes unconscious bias. Especially in a still-emerging field such as historical karate research, which is gaining increasing academic recognition, such a quality standard is essential to elevate studies to an international scholarly level.

Conclusion

The “Fresh-Eye Review” principle is more than a mere proofreading technique—it represents an academic attitude. Through conscious distancing and the inclusion of unbiased perspectives, a text is refined not only formally but also argumentatively. Within historical karate research, this method makes an important contribution to objectivity and to the interdisciplinary relevance of research outcomes.

In Karate, discipline is expressed not only through movement but also through appearance and respect. One of the most fundamental — yet often overlooked — details of Japanese clothing, including the Karate uniform (karate-gi), is the way it is wrapped. Wearing it correctly shows understanding, humility, and connection to Japanese tradition.

1. The Correct Way to Wear It

Both a kimono and a karate gi are crossed at the front. The correct way is simple but essential:

👉 Left side over right side.

When you put on your gi jacket (uwagi), you should always:

Hold the right flap against your body first. Then bring the left flap across the chest, covering the right. Tie your belt (obi) around the waist to keep everything in place.

This way of dressing is called “hidari-mae” (左前) — literally “left side in front.”

It’s the proper and respectful style for living people in Japan.

2. Why It Should Never Be Worn the Other Way

In Japanese culture, wearing the right side over the left (migi-mae, 右前) has a very different meaning.

That way of wrapping clothing is used only for the dead — when preparing a body for a funeral or cremation.

Thus, if someone wears their gi or kimono with the right side on top, it unintentionally symbolizes death. In martial arts, where tradition and respect are core values, this is seen as a serious mistake and sometimes even as a bad omen.

3. The Symbolism in Karate

Karate is more than a physical discipline — it’s a spiritual practice rooted in respect (rei 礼) and mindfulness.

Wearing the gi correctly is part of that respect:

Respect for the art and its Japanese origins Respect for your sensei (teacher) and dōjō Respect for the tradition passed down through generations

When a karateka ties their belt and closes their gi correctly, they demonstrate not just neatness, but also awareness — a key principle in martial arts.

4. A Simple Rule to Remember

“Left over right — for the living.

Right over left — for the dead.”

In Japanese:

生きてる人は左前、死んだ人は右前。

(Ikiteru hito wa hidari-mae, shinda hito wa migi-mae.)

So the next time you put on your Karate gi, remember — the way you dress is the first bow of the day.

In karate – as in many other traditional martial arts – names play a central role. They are not just labels but carry history, philosophy, and cultural identity within them. One example is the Chinese name Yongchun 永春.

Occasionally, this name is rendered according to the Japanese reading of the characters, as Eishun えいしゅん. Linguistically, this is not incorrect, since 永春 can indeed be read that way in Japanese. However, for people who do not speak Japanese, this version is difficult to understand. It also obscures the Chinese origin of the name and makes it harder to connect it with the city of Yongchun in Fujian Province or with the style Yongchun White Crane 永春白鶴.

Why shouldn’t names be translated?

A look at geography illustrates this well:

• San Diego literally means Saint James.

• San Francisco means Saint Francis.

• Los Angeles means The Angels.

Despite these straightforward translations, the cities in the United States naturally retain their Spanish names. Nobody would think of calling San Diego “Saint James” – it would only create confusion, since the well-known city would no longer be recognizable under that name.

A parallel to martial arts

It is the same in martial arts: terms like Yongchun 永春 should remain in their original form. Rendering the name in the Japanese reading Eishun may make sense within a strictly Japanese context, but internationally it is misleading and impractical.

Cultural respect and clarity

Keeping original names is therefore not only a matter of linguistic accuracy but also of respect for their origins. Names carry identity. By preserving terms like Yongchun 永春 in their authentic form, we safeguard both their historical and cultural significance – and avoid misunderstandings caused by unnecessary translations.

In linguistics and translation studies, Intended Meaning refers to the intended significance of an expression or text, that is, what an author or speaker actually wants to convey, independent of the words chosen. It concerns the underlying intention, which can often only be discerned through context, cultural knowledge, and historical background.

Example: The sentence “He’s seeing stars” could literally suggest that he is observing stars in the sky, but the intended meaning is actually “He is dizzy or injured.” In translation, this concept is particularly important: Erwin Koschmieder (1896-1977) referred to it as das Gemeinte (the intended meaning), which also functions as a tertium comparationis – a theoretical “common denominator” connecting the source and target languages.

Understanding the intended meaning requires not only linguistic competence but also cultural, historical, and situational knowledge, since many meanings are implicit, symbolic, or philosophically coded. This is especially crucial for specialized texts, literary works, or culturally embedded content (e.g., Okinawa Karate), where grasping the intended meaning is essential to convey the sense accurately.

Engaging with the history of karate is often like embarking on a long journey filled with detours, quiet moments, and unexpected encounters. Those who dedicate themselves to historical karate research soon realize: it is not only about dates, names, and techniques, but also about patience – a virtue practiced both in the dōjō and at the desk.

The Incompleteness of Sources

Karate was born in a time when written records were scarce. Much was passed down orally, some deliberately concealed. Today we find fragments: old photographs, handwritten notes, the memories of students. These fragments gradually form a picture, though gaps always remain. Researchers cannot expect quick answers here.

The Parallel to Practice

In training we learn: progress does not come overnight. A kata often accompanies us for decades, revealing its depth only with patience. The same applies to historical sources. A document can lie unnoticed in an archive for years until, at the right moment, it is discovered – sometimes by chance, sometimes through persistent effort.

The Art of Waiting

“Sometimes things come to us without us expecting them.” This phrase captures both the spiritual attitude within karate and the research process itself. Those who wait without forcing the search open themselves to the unexpected. It is often precisely these chance finds, encounters with other researchers, or hints from unforeseen directions that offer decisive new perspectives.

Research as „dō“

Just as karate is a “Way” (dō), historical research can also be understood as a path. It is a process requiring patience, dedication, and a willingness to embrace not-knowing. Walking this path reveals that knowledge lies not only in the result, but also in the inner attitude with which we seek – and wait.

In my last two articles, I first presented the obituary that Hanashiro Chōmo wrote for his friend Yabu Kentsū, followed by a letter that Yabu composed shortly before his deployment to war, addressed to his former school principal. Both documents make reference to the First Sino-Japanese War (1894–1895), with Yabu’s letter written on the eve of his departure to the front. From Hanashiro’s words, further valuable details can also be gleaned, as he specifies the exact battalion to which they belonged. As I noted in the previous article, Yabu set foot on Chinese soil for the first time on January 23, 1895.

Even greater insight can now be gained from an official report written by Yabu’s regiment: although Yabu and Hanashiro are not mentioned by name, the knowledge of their battalion allows us to clearly establish the context. Finally, it is worth noting that even the roughly 60 kilometers traversed by the Japanese army at that time were preserved in musical form.

It should be noted, however, that only the music is connected; the film scenes, on the other hand, depict another dreadful event which has already been filmed twice.