On Nodachi Jigen-ryu (Yakumaru Lineage) (Part 1)
Takamasa Miyamoto
While continuing my training in Asayama Ichiden-ryu, I frequently visited the National Diet Library and studied historical materials. In the process, I developed a strong interest in Jigen-ryu and Jigen-related schools, which are said to have cut down countless enemies on the battlefields of the Sino-Japanese War and the Second World War.
At that time, I wrote a letter to the late Master Masao Ito, who was the head instructor of Jigen-ryu and also a master of Satsuma biwa. After receiving his permission to enter the school, I traveled by airplane to Kagoshima many times to train under him.
This was long before books, DVDs, and online videos about Jigen-ryu became widely available.
In my training, I mainly studied under Master Ito and Master Toshinari Matsuo, and I also received instruction from Master Shiro Ichoda and Master Ryuichi Higashi.
At first glance, Jigen-ryu may appear to be a simple and rough form of swordsmanship. However, once I began to study it seriously, I realized how profoundly deep it truly is. I came to understand that such a refined art cannot be mastered unless one continually raises questions, takes initiative, and explores it through one’s own body—things that other practitioners rarely attempt.
For this reason, I always stayed close to Master Ito and actively sought his guidance.
On my very first day of training, Master Ito made me strike the standing log (horizontal log striking) about five hundred times. Although I had confidence in my legs and lower body, which I had trained in other martial arts since my early teens, the unique muscle usage of Jigen-ryu placed tremendous strain on my body. By the time I arrived at Haneda Airport, I was suffering from severe muscle pain throughout my entire body.
For about a week afterward, I could barely walk, and even moving my body while lying on a futon was painful. I still remember this vividly.
What impressed me most were Master Ito’s “tachiki-uchi” (log striking) and “nuki,” as well as Master Matsuo’s “nuki.”
Master Ito’s “spirit and strike” were completely different from what one sees in videos. His strikes were like hurling his fierce soul itself into the blow, and they made me feel that even after ten or twenty years of training, one could never truly reach his level.
“Nuki” is a technique in which the blade of the wooden sword is first turned downward and then drawn. However, when Master Ito performed it, even when watching from right in front of him, I could not see the moment when he turned the blade.
By contrast, Master Matsuo’s “nuki” gave the impression not so much of a human movement, but rather of a wooden sword being fired at high speed from a precision machine.
One unforgettable experience was when, on one occasion, Master Ito summoned me alone to a place separate from the training hall. There, he personally taught me the technique he had used in his youth to defeat a kendo practitioner in Kagoshima.
This was a method that involved devising the way of “taking” the sword (in Jigen-ryu there is no formal stance; it is called “taking”) and cutting in from a position that prevented the opponent from striking.
As I continued visiting Kagoshima and gradually improved my skills, one instructor once said to me,
“Why don’t you hold training sessions or start a branch in Tokyo?”
However, I politely declined.
Even today, it seems that instructors in Kagoshima sometimes tell new students from outside the prefecture, especially from the Kanto region,
“There is an old practitioner named Miyamoto in Tokyo. You should visit him.”
Nevertheless, since I do not hold a teaching position within Jigen-ryu, I respectfully decline all requests to instruct or transmit techniques.