YOKOHAMA (AP) -- It's dark outside the temple. A faint smell of incense hangs in the air. Long stretches of silence are punctuated by bursts of sound -- guttural yells, slashing and thuds.

Every Wednesday night, Yuta Kurosawa and a half dozen of his disciples clad in traditional black robes, their sleeves tied back and out of the way, gather here to train.

There are enough samurai swords lying around to fill a small arsenal, but it isn't an action-packed evening.

Nearly half of the time in the temple is given to preparation. Old, dampened tatami mats must be gathered and rolled tightly into bundles, then thrust onto wooden spikes so that they can stand erect.

After that, the ceremony begins. Although it's in a temple, this rite isn't strictly about religion. And it isn't about fencing or some other sport. It has to do with Japan's tradition of the sword -- as a lethal weapon.

The participants sit in a row, bow to the gods, each other and, most of all, their swords. They stand in unison. One hand goes to the scabbard, the other to the hilt. There is a pause, then the flash of steel and a swishing sound, as if someone had released a small flock of birds.

And, once again, everyone sits.

About three hours into the practice, the mood changes.

The bundled rice mats are set up at the center of the room, and Kurosawa takes his place near the altar, flanked by two suits of armor and two Buddhist mandalas. Slowly, he draws the 75-centimeter (30-inch) blade from its black scabbard and raises it with both hands over his head.

With a yell and three almost imperceptibly fast swings, he slices through the target -- designed to provide the rough equivalent in thickness and resistance to a human torso.

The pieces hit the ground, roll away and uncoil.

------

Americans have their cowboys. The French, their wine.

In Japan, it is the samurai sword.

Along with jewels and a mirror, a sword is part of the imperial regalia. There are societies devoted exclusively to preserving and displaying them. Dozens are designated as national treasures. Channel surf Japanese TV for an hour and you are bound to see at least one samurai sword fight.

But hardly any Japanese have ever held one.

Most have never seen a samurai sword, not a real one, not up close. They were banned, and the caste that wore them abolished, in the late 1800s, when Japan ended centuries of feudal rule and embarked on its race to modernize. After World War II, many swords were confiscated and destroyed by the occupation forces intent on disarming the nation.

Kurosawa, however, literally lives by his.

The descendant of a samurai clan, he grew up around them. His family sword, which is about 200 years old, is kept at his uncle's house.

"It's beautiful," he said. "But I never got to use it."

Instead, Kurosawa began training at the age of 5 in the sport of kendo.

In kendo, which uses bamboo swords, competitors pair off in heavy padding and try to win points, much like western-style fencing, with slicing shots to the head, body or arms, or thrusts directly into the throat, which is also covered.

Kendo is immensely popular in Japan.

It is part of many physical education classes in public schools, police departments use it in their training regimes and, inspired by the success of judo, it has proven to be a very successful martial arts export. Though it was founded in 1970 -- too late to get into the 1964 Tokyo Olympics -- the International Kendo Federation now has 47 member nations and holds regular regional and international championships.

But Kurosawa gave up kendo when he was a teenager.

He wasn't interested in sports. He was interested in swords.

In college, he went back into training, this time in "iaido," a more esoteric martial art that revolves around the proper wielding of real blades. No sparring, no points, no pads. Two years ago, after more than 20 years of training, he quit his day job at his father's plumbing company to pursue it full time, teaching, training and writing a book, which is due out next spring.

"My ancestors' lives depended on the sword. It was kill or be killed. But that has all changed. In a way, it is nonsense to learn how to use a sword in this day and age," he said. "On the other hand, we can pursue real swordsmanship for its own sake, really get into it technically and spiritually in a more pure form."

------

Going from martial art to sport involves a certain trade-off, and virtually every aspect of Japan's martial tradition has made the transition.

Along with judo and kendo, karate and aikido have become competitive sports, gone international and been deeply transformed in the process.

Even sumo, which has its origins in the rituals of the indigenous Shinto religion, has acquiesced to the idea of allowing wrestlers to wear tights underneath their loincloths in hopes of building a broader participation abroad and thus improve the chances of someday getting a berth in the Olympic Games.

Iaido is, in some ways, an anti-sport.

It is still intended to be lethal.

One of the primary focuses of iaido is developing a sense of the kill zone -- the area in which an opponent is close enough to be taken out, preferably with one move. Intense scrutiny is also paid to the drawing and sheathing of the swords -- "it's easy to lose a thumb if you do that wrong" -- and to the spiritual aspects of the samurai code.

Kurosawa realized how much that thinking had become second nature following a performance for the king of Sweden in 1995. The king was so pleased he came over to say thank you and asked Kurosawa to draw his sword so he could see it up close.

"It was an awkward moment," Kurosawa recalled with a laugh. "I found myself thinking that he and his guards were all in my kill zone."

Kurosawa stresses that the true measure of a swordsman is spirit. But it is also evident in the slash.

After Kurosawa sliced his way through about a half dozen targets, cutting through the tatami like hot butter, his less-experienced disciples took the floor.

If the approximately one-kilogram (2 1/2-pound) blade doesn't hit at just the right angle, or doesn't have the needed speed and follow through, iaido training can look a lot like baseball batting practice, with targets bouncing, uncut, off the walls, or the swordsman caught in midswing, his weapon stuck in the matting.

"There is no winner or loser, just you and the sword," Kurosawa said. "But if you aren't focused, it shows."

TrackBack URI for this entry

Comments (0)

Subscribe to this comment's feed

Write comment

Name

Email

Website

Title

Comment

smaller | bigger

Subscribe via email (Registered users only)

I have read and agree to the Terms of Usage.

Write the displayed characters

Add Comment

---

Share this article