In
a post on that other thread I talked a little about the potential for free-response work within the context of kata training using the first taijutsu kata of Gyokko ryu,
koku, as an example. I began with a bit of an examination of what -- to me -- the kata is "about"; and I concluded by pointing out that if you approach it with that sort of perspective, then
. . .
the specific way any or all of this manifests after the initial punch is launched is infinitely variable.
And that's what we work up to dealing with. And so far I'm only talking about the unarmed taijutsu kata; this year we're doing all kinds of applications with rokushakubo and tachi as well.
It's still
Koku, but there's room for all kinds of wild free-response stuff within that space.
However, I didn't really get into just how we "work up to dealing with" things that way, so I'll do that here. Mind you, I'm
not suggesting that this, specifically, is what you need to do: It simply is the approach we used in class the other night.
We began with the formal
densho transmission recipe. Well, dang, there's a problem right there because there's nothing that mandates just exactly what kick to uke's leg is supposed to be done, or which leg tori does it with. So we did it a number of ways, each of which can make the ultimate outcome just a bit different.
From there I showed a number of examples of how, by changing distance and angle and the overall "shape of the space" at various points, you can do a lot of interesting things (inluding sneaky use of knives and other weapons) while still recognizably maintaining the "feeling" of the kata.
Then I had everyone focus on the part that comes right after we introduce our good friend Ken Kudaki, where we move to draw the kick: I had everyone take some time to really work on finding/creating the conditions that make uke really
want to do it. If tori isn't doing things correctly and uke doesn't feel like kicking, he shouldn't do it.
Mind you, up to this point everyone's just trying to do pretty much what I'm showing them, including the
henka or variations. From this point, things change.
Next step after that was for tori to continue trying to move in a way that would "bait" the kick, and of course I pointed out that you need to become a master baiter for success in this art.

What was different now was that, if things weren't "right", not only should uke not kick, he should instead continue his attack in some other way which felt more appropriate to him and take tori out. This gave tori a chance to get a good sense of the potential consequences of not being in the right place at the right time, and further refined his understanding of when and where that place is.
Next step after that was for tori to continue going to that "sweet spot" for the kick -- but now uke was
not to do the kick even though it was obviously the "best" thing to do. Instead, he should do something -- anything! -- else. There was a dual purpose to this: (1) for uke to be able to really understand how much less effective anything but that kick will be (even though the kick won't work either!), and (2) for tori to also really understand how easy anything else is to exploit from there, and also to work on dealing effectively with whatever
actually happens rather than with some specific, anticipated attack. (As I pointed out, not every potential attacker will have a punching/kicking training background: They might have done some boxing, some high school wrestling, or have no formal training of any kind, and kicking might not even occur to them as an option.) What uke and tori did in this phase was totally unscripted for both partners.
I demonstrated that part at full speed with a few folks, then turned everyone loose to work on it at whatever speed they wished, suggesting that they begin fairly slow and ramp up from there to find their own "stress level" and begin working through it. The black belts were going full-bore right off the bat, of course, but everyone was getting the opportunity for creative free response at whatever level they could handle at the time.
Interestingly, we had a first-time visitor watching the class. He'd never seen Bujinkan budo and wanted to check it out, and his own background is in tae kwon do and Brazilian jujitsu -- both of which, of course, have a heavy sparring emphasis. So it was natural for him at the beginning of class, to ask me whether we spar. I told him that -- in the sense in which he's accustomed to using the term -- we don't, but that we do have free-response work incorporated into the training and that he'd understand better what I meant by the end of the class.
When we finished I went over to him and told him I hoped he'd enjoyed watching. His response was to ask how much the training costs and when he can start.