by Manon Soavi
The opening of a new place to practise is always a joy, which is why we are delighted that a new dojo is opening in Pescara, a city located in the Abruzzo region on the Adriatic coast. Manola D. P., who, together with a group of people, was behind the creation of the Bodaï dojo in Rome, is now opening this second venue, after 18 years of travelling the 200 kilometres between Pescara and Rome to practise and keep the dojo alive.
On this occasion, we wanted to share with you some thoughts and photos that put the history of our school’s dojos into perspective. With a selection of photos illustrating how dojos are both places and concrete spaces, imbued with years of daily practice. Places carried by the energy and direction given by our sensei Régis Soavi for over forty years. And at the same time, places that are built by the will of the members themselves, by themselves and for themselves.
Let’s start by taking a look at what the premises in Pescara currently look like, and although it may seem discouraging, if you look further down at what the dojos looked like before the members started work, you’ll see that everything is fine!
To accompany this look back at the dojos that have already gone through the creation stage, here are some thoughts from my book The Anarchist Master, Itsuo Tsuda.
Excerpts from Chapter 8 Creating Situations: ‘Itsuo Tsuda, like Chuang Tzu, the Mamá Kogui, and the Situationists, also creates “situations” that enable and encourage the discovery of the philosophy of Non-Doing. It is not entirely certain that he thought of it in these terms, but his attachment to certain things – showing the importance he attached to them, the power he gave to these possibilities, to these situations – seems interesting to me, which is why I will highlight several of them.’
‘When he arrived in Paris, Itsuo Tsuda wanted to create a dojo very quickly. For the work he came to do in the West, he needed this tool, this place: a dojo, not a gym or a club. We could stop at the idea that Itsuo Tsuda, a Japanese man in his late fifties, was a traditionalist and that dojo is a Japanese cultural concept – there are dojos for kyudo, kendo, karate, etc. Nevertheless, Tsuda does not create Japanese dojos in the strict sense of the term. He imbues these places with a function of self-emancipation.’
Yuki Hō, Toulouse, since 1983
‘The dojo is not a place of consumption, nor is it solely for personal practice. In Japan, it is inseparable from the concept of uchideshi, or live-in students. These students live on site and take care of everything, sweeping the floors, preparing the master’s bath, cooking, gardening, etc. This teaching by immersion, by sharing a collective life with the master’s family but also with the other uchideshi, is a strong element of Japanese culture. The basic principle is that it is the student who wants to learn and not the teacher who seeks to impart knowledge. In Japan, they talk about “stealing the teaching”: the whole positioning is therefore reversed.’
Tenshin, Paris, since 1985
‘From this culture, Itsuo Tsuda retained the “total teaching” aspect of lived experience and working together. Of course, there would be no uchideshi, as Tsuda never wanted to mimic traditions or engage in Japonism. On the contrary, he extracted the essence of these traditions and, although stripped of their local colours, sought ways to reuse them in the contemporary world. The dojo is open every day, with a session at 6:30 in the morning and two evenings a week. Throughout the year, without interruption, the sessions are led by Tsuda and the members themselves.’
Scuola della respirazione, Milano, since 1983
’For the dojo is a place for individual and collective experimentation, for practising autonomy, where, like the uchideshi, everyone takes responsibility for different aspects of daily life in the dojo – discussing, deciding, DIY, gardening, repairs, leading sessions. It is a matter of moving away from the logic of dependence and the “ease” of relying on experts. As the philosopher Ivan Illich points out, individuals have forgotten how to recognise their own needs and, “intoxicated by the belief in better decision-making, they find it difficult to decide for themselves and soon lose confidence in their own power to do so”. (Ivan Illich, La Convivialité, pub. Seuil (Paris), 1973, p. 126.)’
Bodai, Roma, since 2004
‘The dojo does not welcome clients. Tsuda refuses to take responsibility for anyone, so every step must be an individual act of self-care. […] Thus, everyone is at home in the dojo, and at home with others at the same time. It is a place for both the individual and the collective.’
Akitsu, Blois, since 2007
Excerpt from the chapter Cultivating Sensitivity and Attention: ‘To do without rules, laws and leaders, one must pay close attention to both oneself and the collective. As the rebels of the Invisible Committee perfectly summarise: “Suddenly, life ceases to be divided into connected segments. Sleeping, fighting, eating, caring for oneself, partying, conspiring, debating are all part of a single vital movement. Not everything is organised, everything is organising itself. The difference is notable. One calls for management, the other for attention.” This state of distraction and insensitivity, which leads to a lack of attention, is often what causes many community experiments to fail. We are so used to following orders and rules and being assisted in all aspects of our lives that we do not even realise the degree of sensitivity and attention required to live “order without power”, as proposed by anarchism.’ (excerpt from The Anarchist Master, Itsuo Tsuda)
Dōjō, conceived in this way, is an excellent tool for rediscovering our abilities to focus, be sensitive and organise ourselves.
Ryokan, Ancona, since 2005
Our school has two other dojos that required less work but are still worthy of mention in this article:
Zensei, Torino, since 2013
Katsugen kai, Amsterdam, since 2005