My thoughts on objectification in Japanese rope bondage and the differences between the ways that the Japanese and the Westerners do rope
Disclaimer: This post is full of generalisations as I use them as a tool for extracting certain patterns. However, I must stress that I do not claim that it is a proper description of the way that people in Japan and in the West practice rope. Rather, it is an indication of certain tendencies which I do believe, partially, to be culturally influenced. When I talk about ‘The Japanese’ I draw most of my conclusions from my experiences with Akira Naka and Suzuki Iroha, Hourai Kasumi, Shigonawa Bingo and Yoshida Yoi, all of whom I have seen live. Finally, I believe that most of the attitudes that I describe here as ‘Japanese‘ are related to the traditional Japanese culture with its arts and crafts which is deeply influenced by Zen as well as Shintoism.
Some time ago, I’ve been teaching a workshop on objectification in rope with Soptik and during one of the feedback rounds an interesting statement was made by one of the participants. They indicated that they are currently mainly practising Naka style and therefore objectification was a very unnatural (but also interesting) way for them to treat their model. I was extremely surprised by this statement because the way that I see Naka style is that it is extremely objectifying. That is one of the reasons why I love to be tied in this style so much. Of course, different people might perceive the same ties in very different ways as this perception is usually the result of the intention of the rigger and the mindset of the model. However, the discrepancy in the perception of one style by the two of us was so big that it triggered me to investigate it more.
In more or less the same time, I was a witness to a performance of a well known Japanese rigger, Yoi Yoshida, which, added to my previous experiences with Japanese riggers, made me think a lot about the differences (as perceived by me) in the way that (most of the) Westerners do rope compared to the Japanese. Combining both, resulted in some thoughts that I decided to word here.
By no means, it is an attempt at defining some ultimate cultural truths. Rather, it is a description of how I perceive certain things, very subjective and personal and definitely open for a discussion.
For the Japanese rope is a ritual, for the Westerners, it is an adventure
I have an impression that a lot of us, Westerners is often focused on the ‘newness’ in rope. We constantly look for new positions, new emotions, new forms of expression. We are always trying to innovate. Looking at the performances of the famous Western riggers, you can see that they always strive for showing something that is, in a way, unusual. They are afraid that if they don’t, they will appear boring.
From what I have seen so far about the way that the Japanese people do rope, I feel like for them rope is not so much about the new experiences, but rather it is about one very particular experience. They do not mind repeating the same sequence over and over again. They don’t get bored with it. Rather, they recognise that, just as in a ritual, even though seemingly it is always the same, it actually never is. Even though on the outside the sequence of your movements looks the same every time, each of those times you are not the same and your partner isn’t either, and by letting your body flow in a sequence that is so recognizable, you can awaken deep and powerful emotions within, even without much effort on the side of the rigger, just by the sheer power of the archetype.
I often hear a critique of more traditional Japanese performances that they tend to be very repetitive and if you’ve seen one then you’ve seen them all. After seeing a couple, I can say that it is partly true, there is a certain universal dramaturgy to them, a certain flow that remains more or less stable. I find it fascinating, though. Watching it is like watching Shakespear's play on stage. On the one hand, it treats about the notions that you know like the back of your hand, on the other, these notions are so powerful and deep that you can never get enough of relieving them and there is something new to be found there every time you see it.
New things are big and bold and exciting. They can make one feel a lot. Often though, they lack subtlety. The newness is so overwhelming that there is no space for nuance. Only once you familiarize yourself with a state, either physical or mental, can you go deeper into it and start to explore it in its fullness. Just as with re-reading a book or re-watching a movie. The first time, you are focused on the plot and you mostly follow the most sensational part of it. And only the following times, you start to recognise the craftsmanship of the makers and the beauty of the language used or the particular way the image was shot.
The Japanese focus much more on the path, while the Westerners have a goal in mind
Related to the above is my impression that Japanese people, in general, are much less goal-oriented and much more process-oriented. In their view, the entire process of tying is a goal by itself. When tying, they do not have a particular end position in mind, but rather a journey that they want to go through with the model. I feel like they are much more sensitive and aware of a time aspect of the rope scene and they appreciate it much more.
I think that models in general, both in Japan and in the West, are more aware of this time dimension as it is very hard for the model to dissociate themselves from the process of being tied and only see the end result. While the tie is constructed, you have the visceral experience of having the rope caressing or constricting you, which is basically what you are looking for as a model (at least most of the time, I think). You don’t necessarily want to experience being in a particular position, but simply being tied and the states that are related to it.
For a rigger, though, it might be different as he or she might be much more drawn to focus on the end result if they are not tuned in with the model. My guess is that the source of satisfaction from tying people might either be your impact on the model, which will draw you more into the here and now or succeeding with finishing the shape that you had in mind which can be more future-oriented. Especially in our, western, culture, we tend to appreciate the successes, but not the path that leads us to them causing people to be very goal-oriented. And I think that often spills into the way we do rope.
Even models in the West can sometimes be goal-oriented. I often see scenes where the model is just standing there, bored and absent-minded, waiting for the rigger to finish the tie and put them in the air, which then seems to be the goal for both of them. It is always such a shame for me when I see it because I think that they miss a lot of experience.
The Japanese seem to have a more internalized notion of passing time but at the same time, it’s continuity. They don’t see the world as a series of achievements and failures but rather as a constant flow of things. And it is reflected in the way they do rope. It is about the process of putting the rope on and then off and about the mental journey that it brings you on. None of the stops on that journey is more important than the other. Their sequence and flow are what brings you joy.
For the Japanese, the model is at the centre of attention but as an object of beauty
In my experience and understanding so far, Japanese riggers pay a lot of attention to the model, but not in the same way as we would do it. They definitely understand very well that the model, including their emotional state, is a part of the tie. While Westerners often focus more on the form of the rope itself, forgetting about the model that is in it, Japanese sculpt using the model, both in the physical as well as in the mental dimension.
Having said that, Japanese riggers don’t tie for the model, the way that Westerners often do. They don’t tie to give this particular model a particular experience, but rather to achieve a certain universal effect using the model they have at hand. That is why, I think that the Japanese way of doing rope is very objectifying, even though the emotions of the model often are at the core of it. How I see it, is that in the way that Japanese riggers approach rope even emotions get objectified.
Especially when you look at the Naka style, which is very aesthetically driven, as Naka-san developed it in close cooperation with and deeply influenced by Sugiura Norio, the emotion of the model is very much a visual output. The aesthetics of his or her emotional response is crucial. Of course, it comes from within them and the rigger looks for their real natural expression. But still, the external beauty of it is at the core of the rigger’s interest and not their internal emotional process. That is why, in my opinion, the model in her entirety, emotions and all, is treated by the rigger as a beautiful object.
The concept of ‘muga’ applies as much to the model as it does to the rigger
There is a concept of muga, selflessness, that is often talked about in the context of the riggers. That the rigger should be empty at the beginning of the scene. He or she should have no expectations and they should let the expression of the model and the tying itself fill them in and flow through them.
Many people understand it in the way that the rigger should be empty so that they can be there for the model. So that they are not self-centred, but model-centred. That they let the expressions of the model guide them. I would venture a different theory, though.
In my opinion, both the model as well as the rigger should be muga. The model should not have any expectations of the rigger or of the tie either. He or she should be empty at the beginning of the scene and let the experience itself fill them with emotions and flow through them, emanating to the outside world and inspiring the rigger. The way that I see it, they both serve a higher purpose, which is performing a kinbaku scene. They both sacrifice themselves in their own ways in order to create something that they both find beautiful. In that sense, I see the model very much as an object in the context of a kinbaku scene, because it is not about them expressing themselves, but about being the vehicle through which the rigger can express the beauty of the Japanse rope bondage.
In the West, we often focus a lot on expressing our personalities in rope, on making the model feel a particular emotion or on pleasing him or her. My impression is that for the Japanese it is not the case. They do end up doing all these things (maybe except for pleasing), but they are all a by-product of a kinbaku practice and not a goal by itself. The Japanese don't strive for self-expression in the way that we often do. Rather, it comes from within them when their ego is quiet and when the time for it comes.
Finally, I want to stress that I am not trying to criticise the people who don’t strive to do rope the Japanese way. I don’t think that one is better than the other. I am not even sure if I should call it ‘the Japanese way’ as I don’t think that there is one Japanese way in the same way that there is no one Western way. What I mostly talk about here in terms of Japanese rope is what I experienced myself, which is seeing Akira Naka and Suzuki Iroha, Hourai Kasumi, Shigonawa Bingo and Yoshida Yoi or learning from western teachers who are deeply influenced by traditional Japanese rope Masters. I do think that, even though generalizations are never entirely true, an effort taken in producing them can give one a lot of insights about the area that they are trying to generalize about.
And for me, if I practice an art coming from a certain culture, I usually want to learn as much as I can about the culture itself because I think that in order to get into the core of the practice, you need to take its cultural aspect into account as well. And only after internalising it, can you make it your own.
People often criticise the Westerners who are trying to be too ‘Japanese’. For me, there is something beautiful about it, though. There is this art that fascinates me and that comes from a very different culture. To me, it must mean that there is some link between me and ‘them’. And maybe by exploring and trying to live that culture, I will uncover what that link is and therefore uncover and incorporate that part of myself that was so drawn to it in the first place.
