Simon Oliver
Fighting Arts International
Interview by Chris Parker
Issue 93 1997
An early photo of Simon Oliver - then a purple belt - taking part
in a demonstration.
Simon Oliver's quest for a deeper understanding of the Martial Arts has
taken him outside the Karate dojo. He is sparring here with long-time
friend and Pencak Silat guru, Chris Parker.
Simon, you are one of the few people I know who could happily talk about Martial Arts for days on end... why haven't you been committed? No, sorry. What I meant to ask was, why are you so committed?
My love for the Martial Arts started in childhood and it's never ever diminished. I took up Judo to learn self-defence. Because of my father's job, I was constantly changing schools, and as a result often found it necessary to establish myself in a new environment.
You mean you liked to fight?
No. Boys being boys, there is always a pecking order, and a bully. As a new boy in a school, I was an obvious target. My father was very aware of this type of situation. He was a good amateur boxer, with a knowledge of Judo and Jujitsu also, and he became my first real instructor. I remember being introduced to ippon seionage (one-arm shoulder throw) after a Sunday lunch! The furniture was moved back to allow my father to demonstrate, with the aid of his cousin, who was an experienced Judoka. To cut a long story short, my mother's concerns were ignored, and my uncle ended up with both feet sticking out of the window!
Was it open at the time?
Not until he hit it... That accident led to us all escaping to the local playing field for the rest of the lesson. It wasn't long before I was enrolled in a local Judo club run by an ex-Royal Marine. I was the only child in the club and it was difficult to find suitable training partners. A year later we moved again and, at a summer fete, I witnessed my first demonstration of Karate. Once I saw people breaking wood and punching and kicking each other, I knew this was what I wanted to do.
Because you saw it as a more effective form of self-defence than Judo?
No, it just looked more spectacular and that appealed to me as a schoolboy.
That's an interesting point. I feel that one of the main reasons arts like Pencak Silat lack the appeal of Karate - and I believe, always will - is because they are not as visually appealing or obviously Martial and they don't necessarily include obvious ritual.
I think it depends on the (Martial) maturity of the onlooker. A lot of what I do and teach now bears no relationship to the dynamic sport of Karate, although I do prepare my students for competition - if that's what they want. I must stress though, that I do separate training for competitions from training for self-defence.
Can we pursue this further? I'm not sure that I'm convinced about this distinction. Doesn't competition fighting develop good footwork, appreciation of distance and timing, fast kicks and punches, and, last but not least, courage? Aren't these qualities essential for self-defence?
I'm not saying there isn't an overlap, but in reality you don't have a referee, a tournament area that you can step out of to halt the action, and there are certainly no rules! The bulk of competition - and quite rightly so, for safety reasons - only deals with irimi - entry techniques.
Hang on! Don't get technical in the hope that it will put me off! I'm not afraid to ask, what do you mean by entry techniques? I thought irimi was an Aikido term?
Strictly speaking, it is, but any technique that allows you to cut down distance on your opponent and to effectively begin the combat is irimi. I use the term because it best describes the entry-type techniques that I use to negotiate distance. To make competition safe, you have to restrict the techniques that can be used. Also, in theory, if your entry, for example kizami-zuki (lead hand jabbing punch), is fast, accurate and strong enough, you will win the fight, so there is no need to carry on. However, in reality, very few entries are that well delivered, and would not necessarily end a real fight. This is one of the reasons why I've looked again at other Martial systems and looked in more depth at Shotokan. For example, to return to Judo for a moment, there is a realism in Judo competition that is lacking in noncontact Karate competitions. For a Judoka to win, he has to pin, choke or throw an opponent - there is a definite conclusion. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy watching and participating in Karate competitions, but I feel that, for self-defence purposes, too many people rely on these entry techniques far too much. They have to realise that they have to be able to fight at different, often closer, ranges; they have to be able to apply the myriad techniques that were designed to follow-on after the initial entry had been made. This is why they need to look at the kata (forms) more realistically, to go beyond the structure.
What do you mean?
There is a tendency, especially among Shotokan practitioners, not to look
beyond the structure of the kata, or to use their imagination and develop
alternative meanings and applications.
Why do you think that is?
It is a fear of the unknown. A fear to admit a weakness in their training
method, and a reluctance to change or, rather, adapt. There is nothing
wrong with the structure of the kata, the limiting factor is people's
lack of imagination.
As a fiction writer, I'm all in favour of people being encouraged to
use their imagination, but I have to question what you're saying here.
I mean, how far do you go, how much adapting do you do, before you have
distorted the original to the point where the only connection left is
in the imagination of the performer?
There is no limit. I believe that if you restrict people's imaginations,
you prevent them from developing a natural fighting reaction. The kata
is a structure designed for solo exercise. You need to develop it by taking
segments of the kata and practising it as a close-quarter combat effective
one-step with as many variations and in as many directions as possible,
allowing the body to move naturally to the attack. So when we first start,
we would teach this as a very rigid bunkai, or direct application. For
example, the opening two moves of `Kihon' Kata would be taught initially
as a block to a front kick or a lunge-punch, followed by a punch. In the
next stage, the oyo, one possible application might be to teach it as
a defence against a grab from the side. Now the initial block becomes
a strike to the groin, followed by a strike to the throat, then a modified
punch to the same area, then, using the body, turn into the next gedan-barai
(downward sweeping block) as a throwing technique.
This is the approach you're introducing through our videos, right?
Yes.
O.K. Who taught you this? Years ago, when I was still bumbling my way
through Shotokan and we trained together, we were rarely taught bunkai,
let alone the oyo - I had certainly never even heard of this term...
No single instructor can be blamed... It has come from a synthesis of
my own research and watching what my instructors, Terry O'Neill
and Dave Hazard, have been teaching over the years. Both of them
teach a very realistic form of Karate, yet both have skills that herald
from the competitive arena. What really stimulated me to ask what oyo
is, was training with Kiyoshi Yamazaki Sense!, a Karate and Kobudo
(traditional weapons) teacher who lives in California, U.S.A. This word
`oyo' came into the conversation during a question-andanswer session at
a seminar he conducted at my dojo. It was the first time I'd heard anyone
explain the difference between bunkai and oyo, and I was determined to
find out more.
In your experience then, does Shotokan contain far more than the deep
stance and linear movements that its critics deride?
Of course. The art is multi-faceted. The fighting art, developed through
the oyo - as opposed to the competitive sport - includes trapping, locking,
throwing techniques, neck wrenches, close-quarter knee and elbow strikes
and butting. You can, however, train in the system without learning any
of these and still gain a great deal of pleasure from it. I think this
is one of the system's major attractions - and now I'm able to cater for
a wide spectrum of students, in terms of both age, ability and interest.
Are you saying that some people don't want to learn the oyo?
Yes. I've had people turn round to me and say that they don't want to
learn `street fighting', they only want to learn Karate. This shows a
lack of understanding, or appreciation, of studying a system as a complete
Martial Art, and I think it is one of the reasons why people from outside
of Karate, or who have only a limited experience, can deride it.
Given everything that you've said, are you expecting a mixed reaction
to your videos?
I'd be naive to expect anything else. The main reason for producing the
video was as a guide for my own students, as well as introducing on video
a little-known area of study that can be taken from kata. Some styles
of Karate, within their kata, have a natural and obvious closequarter
application. Shotokan doesn't, and therefore, you have to work in the
abstract to a degree. I think this is part of the fun of learning the
system.
You mentioned street fighting earlier, and I remember when you were
working on the doors in the city centre. Was that done deliberately to
enhance your training?
No, it was because, at the time, I needed some extra money! What it taught
me very quickly was that the way I was practising Karate was not suited
to the environment I was working in. I'd always been quite a strong and
aggressive athlete, but I had to learn a different type of psychology
as well as developing my fighting skills.
Yes. In those situations, you discover exactly what works and what doesn't. I learned very quickly that the old adage... `the best form of defence is attack', is absolutely right. When I began I definitely suffered from the old Martial Arts myth - that feeling of being cloaked in invincibility - but the truth is, while it perhaps gave me an edge, I had to be able to adapt and learn. I didn't see working on the doors as a lifetime's occupation, but it certainly helped me identify the shortcomings of my own training method, and it did lead me to re-evaluate the Shotokan style. It's very easy to turn your back on a system and say it isn't suited for real combat. But Karate was originally designed as a fighting art, so I knew that if I looked deeply enough, I would find the answers. That isn't to say that I didn't take from other fighting systems, because I did. For instance, my limited involvement with Pencak Silat has made me look for - and find - relationships in body movement, and I believe you can do this with all systems.
You're unusual in that respect, aren't you? Your library is extensive and you've always been very interested in all the Martial Arts...
Once I bought any and every book and video available, in recent years I've seen a good deal of repetition on the market and so I've become more selective. Some of the most inspirational videos I've seen were ones that you were involved with Jeet Kune Do instructor Rick Young. I was really impressed by the way he moved. However, I've also got some film of the top Japan Karate Association instructors training in the 1960s, and I'll watch that again and again.
Talking of that, you trained in Japan a couple of years ago, didn't you?
Yes, I went with a small group of Karate-ka to train on Mikio Yahara Sensei's gasshuku (special training camp). Although the visit was short, due to my business commitments, I found Yahara Sensei very inspirational, although at times he was ruthless with his own Japanese students.
He didn't give you any ideas about how to treat your own students, did he?
No, I was already ruthless with my students! He just reinforced the idea that sometimes the art of persuasion can be brought down to sharp, physical coercion.
Whatever you do, your club has been going for a long time. Which do you prefer, training or teaching?
I don't have a preference. I recently asked that same question to my good friend, Aiden Trimble (the former Shotokan Karate International World Champion - Editor), and his answer echoed my own thoughts. I've noticed that if I do miss any training, my teaching ability is affected. So now I try to get a happy balance between both. And, in respect to teaching, the aim of every genuine instructor should be to encourage and develop students to maximise their potential and eventually surpass their instructor. In that way, the system doesn't die, but continues to evolve.
After 25 years of training, researching and generally immersing yourself in the Martial Arts, how much credence do you give to the stories of `Martial Arts supermen'?
I've always had a very open mind with regard to the notion of developing an inner power, or inner ability. I've seen people who have demonstrated great physical ability and, to the ordinary person, would appear superhuman. But, some years ago I set myself a personal quest of discovering and exploring different avenues in relationship to what we would loosely call the 'Inner arts'. As a consequence, I know there are Martial Artists out there of great calibre, whom we will never read about in the pages of a magazine, with what can only be termed as supernatural ability.
Sounds like something from `The X Files'... So, the boy who used his Judo skills in the playground has long gone. Do you think you'll ever stop training?
Never. To return to your very first question, my enthusiasm is fuelled by the ability I have to question everything and look for new answers. At the same time, every day I discover something new that intrigues me enough to keep putting on a gi (uniform), teaching and training.
Simon, thank you for your time.