Kinbaku Night

I often find myself going back to Tokyo, that most incredible of places, and by far my favourite city in the world. It would have been necessary to hear what Borges or Cortazar would have had to say about its magic, its night turned inside out, all the streets, all the lights; I don’t know if they ever went there, but fortunately we have Murakami, and I suspect that Yukio Mishima himself was there to acquire a pen that, when applied to paper, creates a stream that looks like dark, cold rain over a splash of inverted lights.

And we also have Osada Steve.

His dojo (and headquarters of Studio Six) has grown a bit over time, but retains that cozy feeling of being in a sacred, hidden place. Whether by appointment, by invitation, or by chance (it happens), one should consider oneself lucky to be able to witness the skill and precision of Osada Ryu.

You must travel there to see it, but in the meantime, I have attempted to document one of those Saturday nights where observers can witness the finest kinbaku. In this session we are joined by Iroha san, as gracious and cheerful as she is beautiful.