Kyudo, or ‘the way of the bow’, is not simply archery, where the ultimate aim is to perform by hitting the target. It is a Japanese discipline where what really matters is harmony between the body, the mind and the bow itself.
Rooted in the traditions of the samurai of feudal Japan, Kyudo has evolved into a practice based on meditation and spiritual discipline.
The yumi, the bow used in Kyudo, is distinguished by its imposing size (often over two metres long) and asymmetrical shape. Unlike Western bows, where the handle is centred, that of the yumi is well below the middle. This detail, combined with the use of bamboo arrows, gives Kyudo a unique and instantly recognisable aesthetic.
Indeed, practising kyudo is a ritual. Every movement, from the first gesture to the release of the arrow, is executed with meticulous precision.
The archer follows an eight-step process called Hassetsu, which structures each phase of the shot. Each step is an opportunity to synchronise body and mind, transforming the shot into an act of meditation in motion.
Here is a list of the different movements:
- Ashibumi (足踏み): Foot stance. You spread your feet shoulder-width apart to establish a solid, stable base.
- Dozukuri (胴造り): Preparing the body. You adjust your posture to align your body correctly, focusing on balance and relaxation.
- Yugamae (弓構え): Preparing the bow. The bow and arrow are grasped, then the bow is positioned in front of him, ready to be strung.
- Uchiokoshi (打起し): The raising of the bow. You slowly raise the bow above your head, while keeping your arms relaxed.
- Hikiwake (引分け): The pull. The bow is slowly pulled back, opening the chest and extending the arms, until full extension is reached.
- Kai (会): Full extension. We look for the peak of the draw, where the bow is fully stretched and the arrow is ready to be released.
- Hanare (離れ): Release. The arrow is released in a fluid motion, allowing the bow to release its energy in a controlled manner.
- Zanshin (残心): The post-shot. One maintains one's posture after the shot, remaining focused and still to ensure that the mind remains in harmony with the action.
In contrast, Western archery, while also requiring great technical mastery, focuses primarily on efficiency and accuracy. The equipment is designed to maximise power and accuracy, with shorter bows, carbon or aluminium arrows, and often sophisticated sighting systems.
During the training I was able to take part in, I quickly realised the importance of the discipline and respect expected from the moment you enter the room. The movements are not too difficult to memorise, and although the list is quite long, the continuity between each step makes it easy to learn.
Not having much experience of archery, maybe only two or three times, I quickly felt lost when it came to aiming. The absence of a sight on the bow handle really surprised me! Unsurprisingly, my first shots weren't very conclusive. At first, the target was about 10 metres away. At that distance, I found it hard to judge the trajectory of my arrow, and I often aimed far too high.
After a few tries, they suggested moving the target back, this time to 14 metres, half the usual distance. With my visual cues disrupted, I found it very difficult to hit the target. However, little by little, by concentrating more on the Hassetsu, I was able to shoot on my own, without the assistance of the teachers.
Finally, I had the opportunity to use an official target, placed 28 metres away. The Mato (的), which I hadn't mentioned before, is a generally circular target 36 cm in diameter for standard shots. There are also smaller targets for long-distance shooting, but I didn't see any that day.
I really enjoyed the experience. The rigour required to carry out each stage of the shoot, in the hope of hitting the target, really impressed me. Unfortunately, I didn't manage to hit the target at 28 metres. I came very close on two occasions, with the arrow grazing the target, but neither of them managed to land. They tried to comfort me by telling me that at least my arrows were hitting the 28 metre mark, but... the bitterness of not hitting the target was there.
By the end of training, my hands had taken a beating. My right thumb, the one that holds the string, had swollen up inside, like a haematoma, and my hand holding the bow had lost its colour; I was holding the Yumi far too tightly.
Achieving a good balance in all these aspects probably takes a lot of practice. If the opportunity arises, I'll happily do Kyudo again.
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