Part 2 of an article written in 1993 by Noguchi Hiroyuki¹son of Seitai founder Noguchi Haruchika. Translated from the Japanese by the Itsuo Tsuda School. Sequel (and end) of Part 1.

2. The principles of Dōhō and katas

If we seek to understand the logic of the principles of Dōhō, katas will arise naturally. Dōhō and kata form a pair, and we cannot talk about one without talking about the other. Originally, Dōhō is the basic principle of kata performance. Each kata consists of three states²These three states are experienced with each performance of the kata as well as in a person’s development over a lifetime. They are concentric circles that deepen the movement. They can be compared to shu-ha-ri 守破離, which describes the stages of learning: ‘follow/obey’, ‘understand/explore’ and ‘integrate/transcend’. Or even jo-ha-kyū 序破急, slow, acceleration, fast, which is an organic rhythm present throughout Japanese culture. Playwright Zeami wrote about it: ‘Every phenomenon in the universe develops through a certain progression. Even the cry of a bird and the sound of an insect follow this progression.’ In nō theatre, each play, each act, each scene and each individual speech will have its own internal jo-ha-kyū. : welcoming³The use of the word ‘welcoming’ suggests the use of the non-dualistic principle of Non-doing, where there is no opposition between me – the acting subject – and the environment. It is not I who ‘initiate’ the action; my action consists of welcoming “the right action”, being physically and mentally ready to “welcome” the kata./beginning, transforming, and integrating/closing. Here, however, we will explore what runs through the three states of kata.

[Dōhō and the blossoming of internal perception]

The current era is an era without kata. The physical exercise that has been promoted instead is so-called ‘relaxation’ and ‘letting go’. With an emphasis on the fact that katas were oppressing freedom and individuality and were a form of coercive repression. Thus, katas have been unjustly perverted.

Yet, the principles of Dōhō cannot be “rigidity and discomfort”. On the contrary katas are used to move naturally and effortlessly. For example, despite Nō costumes weighing a total of thirty kilos, the dancers can still move freely and with ease. If the kata is broken, i. e. no longer performed correctly, this will no longer be possible.

Among the principles of Dōhō shared by the ancients are the expressions: kire (cut), tame (charge/prepare), shime (close/tighten), shibori (wring out), ochi (fall), otoshi (descend), etc. None of these expressions describe appearances from an external point of view. On the contrary, they all refuse to do so. It is impossible and meaningless to describe the external form of the body. When we say that ‘the koshi is engaged’, ‘the hara is determined’ or ‘the chest is lowered’, these are descriptions of internal perceptions of fullness when one achieves a superior movement. It can therefore only be valid and useful if your search within your internal perception.

Internal perception of the body is an integral part of Dōhō. There can be no Dōhō method without this internal perception. The reason for the current decline in the practice of Dōhō is the lack of daily attention to this internal perception of one’s own body. If this internal perception is lacking, it is not surprising that katas seem to be nothing more than a simple, empty and useless form.

The key to understanding Dōhō lies in the vision of the body from a time when anatomy did not exist. What I call ‘internal perception of the body’ is the image of the body obtained through inner sensation, forgetting anatomical divisions and feeling deeply inside one’s own body. The vision thus obtained is very different from a simple mental and objective image of the body; it could rather be described as a ‘gaseous body image’.

Now, sit down, close your eyes slightly and try to perceive the area of your own hara. An image of the belly will then appear. Some areas are indistinct and blurred, while those that are clear may resemble, for example, a squash or a half-moon. Next, we move from the internal perception of the surface of the belly to the deeper layers. The deepest layer is the inside of the back. People whose internal perception reaches the inside of their back will be able to feel their hara in three dimensions.

The hara felt with internal perception is three-dimensional and multi-layered. Furthermore, try exerting force in the abdomen while contemplating and observing this internal hara. This force cannot reach the deepest layer. For it is when the force fills the hara from the deepest layer to the surface layer, passing through several layers, that we use the expression hara ga kimaru 腹が決まる, a determined belly.

To do this, the origin of the force must be sought in the deepest layer. First, it concentrates at a point in the deepest layer, from where it generates a slight movement that can hardly be described as force. This movement spreads immediately to the upper layers and gradually increases. As soon as it reaches the surface, a feeling of power or antagonism appears. This is what the ancients meant by ‘moving the axis’ or ‘moving the centre’. If the deepest force reaches the surface, the hara naturally positions itself.

In addition, try doing the same with the koshi. You will find that the koshi shares space with the internal hara. In the internal perception of the body, koshi and hara are one and the same. The names koshi or hara are simply names based on the anatomical representation of the body.

However, the Dōhō norm of “determined hara” was developed with the internal perception of the person. This hara is that of the internal perception of the body. People today, who do not know how how to do this introspection of the body, try to apply the ancients’ wisdom of the Dōhō by taking as a basis the vision of an “objective” body, i. e. one that is theoretical and not felt through internal perception. But no matter how you try to move your “objective” belly, how you agitate yourself, how you concentrate your ki, you will only affect the superficial layer of your hara, it will not touch the deeper layers.

Consequently, it is impossible for them to achieve the blossoming of internal perception. In these conditions, it is hardly surprising that people today feel that mastery of katas is imposed on them. However, once you know the breadth and depth of the hara with internal perception, you will understand why the ancients attached so much importance to it. The calm and tranquil movements of gestures made in this way are well worth savouring.

I am convinced that one of the reasons why the Dōhō principles of body movement were deeply rooted in Japanese culture, and even had a strong influence on its spiritual practices, is that they came with the pursuit of a “perceived body”.

The satisfaction that comes from mastering the “perceived body” and doing what the “perceived body” is naturally ready for was the substance of ‘memorizing through the body’ and ‘feeling through the body’.

For example, when we see the moon in autumn, we do not see it with our eyes. It is through contemplation of the “perceived body”, clarified by sight, that we remember the beauty of the autumn moon. The Japanese lived with this “gaseous body”. It was a body with a vague space between flesh and spirit. And the ancients knew the techniques for realizing this “perceived body”.

Let us return to the question of katas.

[Inward & outward movement: the principles of the “Dōhō kata”]

The “Dōhō kata” is used to master movement. The more the “objective” body is motionless, the more clearly the “perceived body” appears, and the more vigorously this change takes place. Consequently, it can be said that kata induces the action of the “perceived body”.

Nō dance is restrained, as if rejecting movement. Similarly, the performer’s expression is hidden by masks. Japanese culture was originally based on the perception of the difference between interiority and exteriority of feelings, and on the perception of the difference between interiority and exteriority of appearances. It was considered vulgar to grit one’s teeth, make an effort or reveal one’s emotions.

It is a culture that tries to evoke a sense of luxury in a simple camellia bud in the tokonoma and a sense of absolute silence in the sharp sound of the koto⁴koto 琴: string musical instrument. This is where stands the particularity of this culture, which stems from the relationship between kata and internal perception of the body. The outward appearance of dance seems restrained, but in fact the world of inner perception is full of rich movement.

If you stop the outside, the inside moves; if you stop the inside, the outside moves.

Kata sums up this inversion of the order between outside and inside. There are three principles in the “Dōhō kata”.

The first principle is Jun-Gyaku-Kikkou. It means that forces balance each other. It applies not only to the relationship between inside and outside but also to the details of the kata, i. e. to the orientation of each body part. For example, the shizumi form⁵a baseball body position taken by the infielder (cf. part 1), considered to be the correct forward inclination of the body, is based on the standing position where the pubic bone moves backwards and the knees bend forward. They move simultaneously in opposite directions.

The second principles are Tenkei-Doushitu and Doukei-Tenshitu.

Tenkei-Doushitu means that no matter how the kata is modified, if the koshi of the “perceived body” is in place, it will never be destroyed, in other words, the essence of the kata remains unchanged.

Doukei-Tenshitu means that while the outer form of the kata remains the same the “perceived body” has been moved from within. For example, when tension is generated by clenching the fist and flexing the arm to release this tension, the angle of flexion of the arm must be relaxed, or the grip must be released. Doukei-Tenshitu is the process of relaxing thanks to the “perceived body” without changing the angle of the arm or the force of the grip.

The fact that the expression of the Nō mask changes freely is not only due to the performer’s Dōhō technique, but also to the fact that the performer has acquired the Doukei-Tenshitu technique of moving the “perceived body”.

The third principles are Dochō and Tenkan.

This is awareness of other people, through harmonization and movement. Try to shake hands with anyone. You will notice that the elbow angles of their right hands are synchronized without realizing it. If you adjust the angle of your elbow with more precision, you will no longer know whether you are moving the partner or the partner is moving you. You then have the feeling that you are both being moved by the other, and the two movements become one and the same.

This is the principle followed in the early stages of the Seitai method of internal perception, which I am continuing. Although techniques with the “perceived body” rather than the “objective body” are the norm in Seitai today, this basic principle is still relevant.

[Conclusion]

I believe that Japanese culture is founded on the pillars of Dōhō – the method of movement –, naikan⁶naikan 内観: lit. inner view. – internal perception – and kan-nō – sensitivity. If the other side is polite, we treat them with courtesy, whether they are enemies or friends. This form of harmonization is called “welcoming”.

The art of welcoming guests in Chanoyu 茶道 was originally a search for sensitivity. Why does the meeting during the tea service, ichigo ichie⁷lit. one life one encounter, or each experience is unique (cf. part 1), not take the form of direct contact, face-to-face with the main guest? Ask anyone today and you won’t get an answer. The answer is simple: the Japanese did not believe in interviews. They assumed that it was not the eyes that were central to the fusion of sensibility with another person. The Japanese is rather averse to making eye contact.

Our culture consisted in seeking an encounter with the other person from koshi to koshi⁸Tsuda Itsuo used to say ‘from intuition to intuition’ (see The Non-Doing, Chap. I, Yume Editions (2023), p. 17: ‘Noh theatre is not a means of expression. It strikes straight from intuition to intuition’). In this way, the Japanese rejoiced, respected and desired exchange in the mutual internal sensation of each other’s bodies.