| Article | Masataka Mori in The NY Times
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●
MAKING IT WORK; The
Master Teacher
By
Christpher S. Wren (The New York Times)
Published: March 20, 1994
●
Weekend Warrior
; Learning That KarateÕs Blows Go Hand in Hand With Manners
By
Christpher S. Wren (The New York Times)
Published: June 11, 1999
MAKING IT WORK; The Master Teacher
by Christopher S. Wren,
New York Times, March 20, 1994
PAIR off with a partner and announce which
body part you intend to assault. Anopponent blocks your punch or kick and
retaliates with an attack to your face or solaplexus. Afterward, you bow
politely and thank each other.
The intricate etiquette that prevents karate
from degenerating into mayhem is vigorously enforced by Masataka Mori. He has practiced
karate for 44 years, achieving the exalted rank of an eighth dan, or
eighth-degree black belt, one of only nine such master recognized worldwide by
the Japan Karate Association. His black belt is so frayed it resembles the
white belt of a beginner. And while his students win tournaments, he
espouses perfection of character first.
"Everybody who comes to karate in the
beginning thinks they're learning how to defend themselves and be good at
fighting," Mr. Mori said. "But I like to teach the moral aspect of it.
If I teach this, the technique and spirit of my students join together."
For a quarter century, Mr. Mori, 61, has taught his
fighting art in a complex of dance and gymnastic studios at 2121 Broadway near
74th Street. His dojo, or training hall, is a small but tidy room adorned by
U.S. and Japanese flags flanking a portrait of Gichin Funakoshi, the founder of
modern karate. Mirrors hang on one wall, a blackboard on another. At the back
are two makiwara, or padded boards for developing lethal punches.
Mr. Mori's dojo, the local
branch of the Japan Karate Association, is one of scores now established
outside traditional Asian neighborhoods. Martial-arts studios have been
proliferating around New York, as more and more people turn to karate for
exercise, self-defense or the sheer zen of it. Styles range from the classic
Japanese shotokan practiced by Mr. Mori to Okinawan shorin-ryu to Korean tae
kwon do, Chinese kung fu and a profusion of other competing schools that
cultivate different stances, blocks, kicks and
punches. Some teachers push fighting and
board-breaking; others, like Mr. Mori, place a
priority on discipline suffused with
tradition.
"A person who practices karate can
contribute to society," Mr. Mori said. "It's a way of life, not just
about kicking and punching."
Mr. Mori's classes are
authentically Japanese, with ceremonial bows, meditation and communal
floor-washing to wipe away the pools of sweat between classes. "It's the
combination of mental, spiritual and physical, which you don't find in a lot of
places," said Lisa Nakanishi, a New York lawyer and a first-degree black
belt.
About 115 karateka, or students, a large
number of them black belts, are enrolled at Mr. Mori's Broadway dojo.
"If I choose to watch TV rather than come and learn from him, I need my
head examined," said William Georgiadis, a sporting glove manufacturer and
second-degree black belt who commutes nightly from Hoboken, N.J. Loyalty is
strong.
When Mr. Mori moved his dojo from
the second to the fourth floor a decade ago, students pitched in to paint, fix
the wiring, and sand and finish the floor. "I started with him and can't
imagine going anywhere else," said Susan Volchok, a Manhattan writer who
came to Mr. Mori's dojo 13 years ago. She stayed, training through
seven months of pregnancy, and now holds a
second-degree black belt. Tuition is about $85 a month, $230 for three months.
Mr. Mori takes his karateka, 20 to 30 a class, through a rigorous drill of
fundamentals (kihon), no-contact sparring (kumite) and balletlike maneuvers
(kata) against imaginary opponents. Afterward, students kneel and recite a code
of conduct that pledges them to respect others and refrain from
violence. Every three months, they undergo a
grading that can promote them up the ranks through two degrees of white belt,
three of green belt and three of brown belt. They are ready to aim for black
belt after three to five years.
"I want every beginner to make black
belt," Mr. Mori said, "but usually the guy who has talent doesn't
endeavor, and the guy who has no sports talent tries and tries. It's like the
hare and the tortoise."
Mr. Mori, who was born in 1932 in Kyushu, in
southern Japan, has lived the persevering life he preaches. He grew up in the
bleak postwar years when, he recalled, "there wasn't much food, no rice in
those days, only sweet potatoes." Even so, when it came to karate, he
said, "I practiced very hard." After graduating from Takushoku
University in Tokyo in 1955, he began teaching karate. In 1963, he was invited
to Hawaii, where he built a local team that defeated visiting Japanese college
champions.
"For him, failure means to quit,"
said Isami Shiroma, an Okinawan-born businessman and fifth-degree black belt
who sometimes instructs when Mr. Mori is away. "He's always rooting for the
Mets while they're losing," Mr. Shiroma said. "When they begin
winning, he loses interest."
In 1968, Mr. Mori came to New York to
teach on a two-year contract. He wound up staying. As chief instructor, or
effective head, of the North Atlantic region of the Japan Karate Association,
he visits dojos as far away as Scandinavia and judges tournaments around the
world. But his base remains the Upper West Side, where he also supervises
classes at Columbia University. He teaches in suburban New Jersey and Long
Island, too, and is an associate professor of physical education at the State
University of New York in
Stony Brook.
Mr. Mori often trains beginners himself,
unusual for someone his rank. Children are his favorite students. "They can
learn so many things," he said, "but you must teach manners to
children." He likes them because "they are going to be our
leaders."
He is less patient with the mistakes of more
advanced black belts who fail to maintain his strict standards; Mr. Mori reinforces
corrections with a bamboo stick. "It stings," said Mr. Georgiadis,
one of those who have felt corrective taps. "But it's controlled and done
for the specific reason of letting the nerves in the offending area tell you
that you should be doing it right."
Mr. Mori and his wife, who live in Closter,
N.J., remain Japanese citizens; their daughters are American-born. One went to
Yale and studies eye diseases as a physician at Mount Sinai Hospital. The other
works for the Consumer News/Business Channel, a cable station in Fort Lee, N.J.
Mr. Mori talks of retiring to Japan, but not
yet. "I haven't finished my task here," he said. "When all of my
students have become good citizens, then I can go home."
Photo: Masataka Mori, an eighth-degree
black belt, demonstrating a move at his Upper
West Side karate studio. (Michelle V.
Agins/The New York Times) Chart: "MARTIAL
ARTS: Fighting Forms"
In Japanese, "karate" means empty
hand. Kung fu expresses the same concept in Chinese.
Here are some popular schools of unharmed
fighting. SHOTOKAN: Low stance,
powerful blows generated through stomach
muscles and hips, developed in Japan from
Okinawan basics. SHORIN-RYU: Circulare
sweeping style, from Okinawa. TAI KWON
DO: High-kicking aggressive fighting from
Korea. KUNG FU: Originated many
centuries ago with the monks of Shaolin
Temple in central China.
Learning That KarateÕs Blows Go Hand in Hand With Manners
by Christopher S. Wren,
New York Times, June 11, 1999
I admit to having aimed a premeditated kick at the head of a
lawyer named Brent Stevens. He promptly hit me three times.
Afterward, we bowed politely to each other.
Our fight took place under the critical stare
of Masataka Mori, a director of the Japan Karate Association and its chief
instructor in North America. At the Shotokan Karate-do of New York, his modest
dojo, or training hall, on Manhattan's Upper West Side, Mr. Mori teaches a karate as
classically Japanese as anything found east of Okinawa.
Sweating for an hour or so under the tutelage
of Mr. Mori, who holds a stratospheric eighth-degree black belt rank, is like
visiting Japan without having to buy an airline ticket.
Before each class, lawyers, police officers
and teachers fall to their knees to mop the floor with damp rags. The commands
are given in Japanese. Classes begin and end with meditation and ceremonial
bows. A late arrival must kneel, awaiting Mr. Mori's eventual invitation
to join the class. And black belts who perform sloppily may feel the chastening
sting of Mr. Mori's shinai -- a swordlike bamboo stick -- on the offending foot or
arm.
For Mr. Mori, karate is not about
mayhem, but about balance, focus and proper breathing. Karate's roots, he said,
lie in the same Japanese traditions as kendo, the art of sword fighting, or
ikebana, the art of flower arranging.
''This is the philosophy of karate,'' Mr. Mori said. ''It stresses
manners, sincerity, modesty and courage, truthfulness and respect. I do not
believe you will find these in all other sports.''
Yasunobu Ohama, a lightning-fast young black
belt who learned his karate techniques at his father's dojo in Osaka, said
traditional masters like Mr. Mori were getting harder to find, even in Japan.
''He is a Japanese samurai,'' Mr. Ohama said respectfully.
Every karate dojo assumes the personality of
its sensei, or teacher. Mr. Mori preaches perseverance, arguing that in
defeat lie the seeds of future victory. ''There are people who become trapped
in their daily tasks, who do not strive beyond their routine,'' he said. ''If
they were to train in the rigors of karate, I believe they would be able to
overcome this situation.''
His gospel of constant striving attracts
serious black belts along with white-belted novices. ''I think the idea of
trying to make yourself better with every technique and every move makes you
realize your continuing imperfections,'' said David Eng-Wong, a teachers' union
representative who was promoted recently to san-dan, or third-degree black
belt. ''And Sensei Mori is always good for keeping you humble.''
For the likes of Brent Stevens and me, karate
becomes our way of sweating away tension and cleansing the mind of the week's
accumulated frustrations. ''It's a stress reliever for me,'' said Mr. Stevens,
who drives in from Montclair, N.J., to train under Mr. Mori on weeknights and
Saturdays. ''If I go three days without training, I get uptight.''
I took up karate to improve my coordination
for rock climbing and skiing, two sports that I try to keep up when I escape
the city. On evenings or weekends when I can't get away, karate has become a
satisfying solution for cross-training.
Even before I earned my black belt, I became
engrossed in a martial art whose shadowy roots extend back at least eight
centuries to the fighting monks of the Shaolin temple in central China. Their
self-defense techniques migrated to other parts of Asia, notably Okinawa.
According to tradition, after the island's overlords banned the carrying of
weapons, Okinawans refined their unarmed combat.
Gichin Funikoshi, an Okinawan expert born in
1869, exported karate to the rest of Japan in the early 20th century. Before
his death in 1957 at the age of 88, he helped found the Japan Karate
Association and promulgated shotokan karate as a sport and a way of life. Shotokan
means ''Shoto's dojo.'' Shoto was the pen name Mr. Funikoshi used for his
calligraphy, said Isami Shiroma, a fifth-degree degree black belt from Okinawa
who helps teach when Mr. Mori is away in Japan.
Mr. Funikoshi's portrait hangs reverentially in
the dojo, flanked by faded Japanese and American flags.
While just about everyone claims to know what
karate is, not many have seen it done correctly. Karate, meaning ''empty hand''
in Japanese, employs a devastating combination of punches, kicks and elbow or
knee strikes. It generates dynamic power by contracting and expanding the body,
adding torque by rotating the hips. Its kime, or focus, unleashes maximum force
against areas like the solar plexus where an opponent is most vulnerable.
''It requires explosive power at the moment
of focus,'' Mr. Mori explained.
He made us maintain shotokan's distinctively
low stance, which strengthens the leg muscles. Constant kicking and punching
work the cardiovascular system as thoroughly as any aerobics class. Extensive
stretching beforehand minimizes injury.
''Karate involves training the entire body,
not just one part,'' Mr. Mori said. Sometimes his classes end with situps
or pushups, but he frowns upon lifting weights. ''The movement of your body and
the kicking or blocking techniques become slower,'' Mr. Mori said. ''Because your
muscles are tight, you will not be able to move as quickly.''
He led us through the typical Japanese
curriculum of kihon, or fundamentals; kata, or balletlike drills, and kumite,
or sparring.
Kihon involves learning to make weapons of
the body's hard surfaces. A leg, for example, can be employed quite differently
to deliver a snap kick, a thrust kick, a roundhouse kick or a back kick.
Kata is a vigorous sequence of blocks and
counterattacks against imaginary opponents from all directions. Each kata must
be memorized and may number as many as 65 moves, some so subtle that even
experts debate what they mean.
Kumite is the fighting itself, taught in
stages to prevent students from hurting each other or themselves. Mr. Mori does not let anyone
progress to free-fighting without grasping the basics. Even here, punches or
kicks must be controlled, stopping just short of an opponent's face or stomach.
In the heat of a tournament, of course, kumite can turn rough.
The belt grading creates an incentive to
improve. The Japan Karate Association recognizes two grades of white, three
grades of green and three grades of brown belt. It takes three to five years of
constant training to reach basic black belt.
Unlike some other styles of karate, the Japan
Karate Association has the advantage of accrediting dojos around the world.
This gives the belts earned international status and lets you train on business
trips and vacations at dojos in other cities or countries.
Because it is potentially lethal, karate is
controlled by strict etiquette. Even on a dojo floor glistening with sweat, Mr.
Mori demands that courtesy prevail, and his glare is enough to chastise
anyone stepping out of line.
He exhorted us to concentrate on our
opponents, release the tension from shoulders and arms and breathe lightly.
''Breathe through your navel,'' he said. The celebrated kiai, or explosive yell
that accompanies a punch or kick, has the purpose of focusing power as well as
startling the opponent.
''If fear makes your breathing erratic, if
you tense your shoulders or open your mouth while breathing, you give away your
breathing to your opponent and you are no longer in the dominating position,''
Mr. Mori said. ''Breathing has to be natural, like weeping willow branches
in the wind.''
Under Mr. Mori's persistent tutelage,
we practiced maximizing the power of our punches by pulling back one arm as the
other shot forward, and our kicks by snapping back the leg like a whip. He had
us slide forward without stomping by pushing off with the back foot. He
tolerated no timid or indecisive moves, insisting that each blow be focused
before proceeding to the next block or punch. He even nagged us about keeping
our fists clenched tightly to avoid fracturing knuckles or fingers.
Mr. Mori is no easy taskmaster, but his
insistence on perfection has earned scores of trophies for his students in
tournament competition. Most other karate teachers give prominent display to
their tournament trophies. At Mr. Mori's dojo, they sit crammed on a back shelf
of the men's dressing room, stored under plastic sheeting to keep from
gathering dust.
Winning, Mr. Mori told us, should be
apparent in his students' demeanor. We concluded every class by kneeling to
recite after him the dojo kun, or traditional rules of the Japan Karate
Association: ''Seek perfection of character. Be faithful. Endeavor. Respect
others, and refrain from violent behavior.''
The quality of a dojo is reflected in its
attention to beginners. Every black belt, after all, started out as a white
belt. Mr. Mori has achieved one of the highest ranks in the Japan Karate
Association, but is unusual in liking to teach beginners himself. About
one-third of them sign up for self-defense; the others, he said, seek karate to
improve themselves.
Mr. Mori, who moves with a grace belying his 66
years, saw no reason why anyone should quit. ''In Japan and other countries,
the elderly will not stop training,'' he said. ''They will concentrate their heart
and soul on the spiritual aspect of karate.''
Clearly, karate has another advantage.
Richard Roach, a retired Wall Street stockbroker in his 60's, has been training
with Mr. Mori for years. Leaving a bar one night last year, Mr. Roach was
accosted by four muggers. He fought back until his assailants fled, leaving him
with his watch and wallet -- and a broken hand.
''For years Sensei Mori kept telling me to
keep my fists closed,'' he confessed with chagrin. ''Now I know why.''
Getting a Start
Masataka Mori's dojo, the Shotokan
Karate-do of New York, is on the fourth floor at 2121 Broadway, between 74th
and 75th Streets, in Manhattan, (212) 799-5500. In Brooklyn, Shu Takahashi, a
sixth-degree black belt instructor for the Japan Karate Association, teaches at
565 Fifth Avenue, between 15th and 16th Streets, Park Slope, (718) 768-9345.
Photos: Mr. Mori demonstrates blocking
with his assistant Isami Shiroma. Masataka Mori, a karate master with
eighth-degree black belt ranking, leading his students in Manhattan.
(Photographs by Ozier Muhammad/The New York Times)
More About:
● Origins
● Development ● Characteristics
● G. Funakoshi
● 20 Precepts |
Sources:
●
MAKING IT WORK; The
Master Teacher
By Christpher S.
Wren (The New York Times) Published:
March 20, 1994
●
Weekend Warrior
; Learning That KarateÕs Blows Go Hand in Hand With Manners
By Christpher S.
Wren (The New York Times) Published:
June 11, 1999
Top 2007 ⓒ JKA of NY/NJ
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