[I suppose I should issue a disclaimer - no part of this entry should be used as instruction for readers to teach themselves practice cutting. Tameshigiri should only be practiced with an experienced teacher in a proper setting.]
Everyone seems to love tameshigiri (practice cutting). To those who don't know, tameshigiri involves setting up some sort of target (or targets) and then using a sword to cut it (or them). Targets can be made of paper, rice straw, bamboo, or materials in combination. The idea originally was to replicate in some way conditions of cutting human flesh and bone. In the past, some (though not all) swords were tested at execution grounds, on actual bodies. The swords were then engraved with the results of these tests, as though advertising the toughness, durability and sharpness of the blades. There are some gruesome illustrations which readers can look for if they have a mind to. I am not going to post any of them here.
I bring up the history of some practice cutting to make several larger points: (1) tameshigiri is serious business; (2) it is not a game, or even a sport (though there are competitions in tameshigiri); and (3) it is potentially very dangerous, both to the participants and any spectators, including students awaiting their turn to give it a try.
On the other hand, tameshigiri is important to the practice of swordsmanship. It helps to clarify technique. No matter how many fancy kata you may know, if you do not have a decent cut, the kata is meaningless. Likewise any armchair speculation about what makes good technique has no meaning if it cannot be borne out in the practical sense. Moreover, realizing that a sword can actually cut (and inflict major damage) should be a way to show students just how deadly serious the practice can be, and how showing both politeness and respect as part of practice is not just empty ritual, but vital to developing a good understanding of what the practice of swordsmanship is, and what it means.
I should say, at this point, that my teacher did not particularly care for tameshigiri practice. Some of my sempai loved it (and one of them became positively obsessed with it for awhile). After many years of practicing it myself, as well as watching others, I think I have a good idea why he was not terribly impressed. To be honest, it is not that difficult to teach someone to cut a target with a sword. Give someone a sharpie, line the person up with a target, position his feet so he won't cut into his legs (and position everyone else out of harm's way), and let him try it. In that sense, it's not as difficult as many of the other aspects of swordsmanship - the history, the philosophy, as well as the meaning of the scenaria of the kata, along with any aesthetic principles and movement principles involved. Moreover, if you practice good technique, you do not need to prove it by cutting an actual target. How do I know good technique? I can both hear a good cut, and see it. But, as I stated above, I have no objection to people gaining some insight into proper technique by practice cutting, and I don't mind trying a few myself to see if any bad habits have interfered with what we are actually doing in our practice.
While making an effective cut can be done with some basic instruction, making a proper cut is more complicated. I know some lovely people whose practice is shaped around target-cutting. I have seen photos of more than one of them making a good-looking cut while employing improper technique. In particular, leaning forward so that the right shoulder is angled towards the target. To paraphrase Bruce Lee, targets don't cut back. If one were to apply that technique in the practice of an actual kata, the teacher would (or should) point out that pitching the body forward makes the swordsman vulnerable to a counter attack. We practice a number of partner kata where the attacker evades and counters a defender's cut. Keeping the sword in line and the posture erect helps minimize the effectiveness of the counter attack. A straw target will just sit there whether you succeed in cutting it or not, and it's not going to try to cut you if you make a poor show of it. While kata scenaria are hypothetical, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that an opponent who evades a counter will take advantage of any mistake the defender may make.
It's not difficult to figure out that target practice must be absolutely made as safe as possible for everyone involved, from the condition of the swords being used to the positioning of the person cutting as well as anyone else in the room, but, time after time, I have been surprised by the seeming lack of basic precautions during practice cutting. As I have been able to assume more responsibility during cutting sessions, I have worked very hard to contain students' understandable enthusiasm. I have seen people become very reckless during a cutting practice, or (perhaps worse) treat it as some sort of performance. To me, it is simply another aspect of practice, and not an end in itself. And it needs to be treated with utmost seriousness, about which I have some thoughts.
First, practice must be closely supervised. I cannot emphasize this enough. Something happens to people when they realize that a cut actually works. I have seen students get a little goofy, or giddy, and their concentration erodes accordingly. I never let inexperienced people try "fancy" cuts; I never let them try nukitsuke (drawing and cutting in one motion). A bad draw can allow a sharp blade to cut right through its wooden saya (sheath) and into the swordsman's hand. I will never forget a video shown by a colleague of a competition in Japan where participants paid an entrance fee and got to try cutting. One guy drew the sword recklessly, and we could just see a small object fly across the bottom of the screen. It turned out to be his thumb. I am hoping no one is doing stuff like that anymore. I also heard about an exhibition a number of years ago in NYC where people from the crowd were able to pay a fee and try to cut a target. Even though I did not hear of any accidents; to me, stuff like this is unforgivably stupid.
Students should at least know the rudiments of what they are doing. At yet another exhibition, held at a seminar, which style emphasized the use of actual swords as opposed to practice swords, the teacher cut beautifully. His student who hosted the seminar tried next. He also cut well, but he needed to watch the sword and his hand as he attempted to sheathe the sword. I am not making this up. This teacher refused to allow his beginner students to use practice swords (which imitate in weight and fittings the real thing, but less dangerously and less expensively). He would only allow them to use wooden swords of his own design. As a result, the students at this particular seminar had never learned to either properly draw or resheathe a sword. I was horrified, torn between wanting to leave the room so I would not have to watch someone badly injure himself, and feeling the need to stay in case I had to apply first aid.
Building on the foregoing, I am not a fan of tameshigiri being done as part of a demonstration of swordsmanship. There are simply too many variables - the position of the crowd, for one. No spectators should ever be positioned anywhere near the possible trajectory of the cut, or even the sword. Should the practitioner lose control the force of the cut could result in causing a loose blade to fly through the air. This means, really, that the person cutting should have his back to the audience. Not that much fun to watch. In fact, I have spoken to spectators who relate that watching a cutting demonstration is boring.
In addition, though I have seen some successful cutting demonstrations, there is not much control over the condition of the targets. The straw mats used for cutting practice need to be wet, but not too wet. A too-wet target is not a good target, and a dry target is more difficult to cut. Again, I observed a demonstration where the swordsman was unable to cut through his target (probably because, while waiting for his part in the demo, his target became too dry). His reaction, once his first cut was unsuccessful, was to reset the target and try again, with more force. He succeeded in knocking over the target and the stand, at which point he thankfully gave up. I was once at a group-dojo practice that included tameshigiri. I was given management of the second round of cutting. By that time, the other students (led by some of the teachers) had started applauding each successful cut. I asked them to stop, since this was practice, and not a performance.
A sword is a tool. When it is sharp enough, and the target is properly prepared, the tool will work quite well, without any undue effort. Forcing a cut causes damage to the sword, and could injure the person cutting. It's like trying to put in a good screw with a broken bit, or trying to put in a damaged screw with a good bit. No matter how hard you try, you need a new bit, and an undamaged screw. Both items need to be in working order.
I am not even going to discuss in any detail people who "cut" watermelons or other fruit (there was a story some years ago about a karate teacher who attempted to cut a pickle against a student's neck on video, with predictable results. I did not see this tape, so I am not sure if the story is not apocryphal, but even the idea is appalling). Many stupid examples are now available on YouTube, if you care to watch. And they totally miss the point, beyond the obvious - there's no cure for stupid, and if any teacher you ever meet suggests anything similar, get thee to another dojo - stat.
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