What’s the answer to authentic Kata? Is there one? Does it depend on your perspective? Do we mean authentic in the sense of Kata origins and traditional standards, or do we mean authentic Kata in the sense that we are working at it for some personal reason. Are we training Kata in order to work out the fighting principles and functional effects? Do we practice Kata just for competitions?
Defining authentic Kata comes with some constraints.
Traditionalists (I use that term loosely, because defining “traditional” Karate or Kata isn’t simple) generally look to Kata for fighting techniques—self-defense, self-growth through repetition and focus, and physical conditioning. Either way, Kata is meaningful. It is the fundamental pillar of Karate. When done with substance and intention, Kata is something to behold, and it becomes personal.
It seems then that authenticity in Kata is relative: authentic Kata to one may have a different definition than that of another. But what is not questionable is the work it takes to understand Kata, no matter your use for it. Kata requires intellect, study, sweat, and a resolve for repetition.
In my understanding (and in my teaching), Kata is a mechanism to test and put basic movements into action, and Kata contains the principles and systems for fighting. Again, this is dependent on the goal you have for your Kata.
As I see it, some tournament Kata has taken on characteristics that are disconcerting. One of these (perhaps a minor one) is wardrobe manipulation done to enhance perceived body action during techniques.
I was at a tournament a while back and watched a coach tugging at a young competitor’s gi jacket bottom, attempting to flare it out. I could only surmise that the flared jacket bottom was meant to give the appearance of heightened hip rotation and speed during Kata waza. I don’t mind this too much, but I find it a bit of an inane gesture that is more about optics than depth. “Flare out your gi to fool the judges!” Here, Kata becomes cosmetic.
(As I am writing this, I believe some sport Karate organizations are looking to outlaw this “duck tail” trick used by Karateka.)
After the Kata began, what I saw was a sequence of techniques performed in a flurry of speed. The competitor was trying to portray the idea that they were moving so fast you couldn’t really see the moves. In this case, however, it was a series of brushed-over techniques where form was sacrificed for speed: feet flashed out for kicks (no definition of the striking surface of the foot), and punches were soft-fisted with fingers open. Too often when a Karateka struggles with the definition of a movement, they simply speed it up—speed for the sake of perception. As practitioners, we know that it is easy to ‘fake’ movements – especially the intricate ones – by doing it quickly. It is undeniable that slow, precise Kata is much more difficult to perfect than flashy, quick ones.
I wonder if this Kata is authentic to the person who was doing it. Perhaps it is, as it still serves a purpose.
Speed is important in Kata, flash isn’t. Most seasoned Karate practitioners—with a deep-rooted understanding of the art—will tell you that technique is the goal, and speed is the byproduct. The position of the wrist, the angle of the elbow, the posture, the structure of the fist, the gaze, the breathwork, the feet on the floor, the defined stance—these are the elements of great Karate. I’ve yet to see anyone perfect these at lightning speed in Kata. I wonder if there is even a need to.
If we agree that we all have a reason to study Kata, perhaps a destination we wish to get to, do we take a jetliner, or do we hike there through the mountains and valleys? My concern is more along the lines of what technical pieces of Kata are being lost in the name of judged performances.
My Sensei, Hanshi Don Owens, demands “crisp authority” from his students during Kata. Like many of Hanshi’s teachings, this takes some unwrapping. “Crisp” denotes clean, quick, and direct movement—no delay, no excess. Think of snapping a dry twig: a single, quick action. No anticipation, no pause. Snap. It’s fully done, and you’re ready for what’s next.
He likes to see it done efficiently, with no wasted time, but if you omit definition in what you are doing, you will be called on it. Consider this: a super-swift mae geri in a street fight is useless if you have not implemented the correct body mechanics. Similarly, we don’t slam a punch into the heavy bag with a partially open fist, the same semi-open fist we often see in some speedy Kata.
I teach Bunkai and Oyo respectively, and for either of them to work, the techniques used have to be clean, full, and understood by the user. Half-assed anything won’t help you in a fight – on the mat or on the street.
Hidetaka Nishiyama Sensei once made us (brown belts at the time) do the Heian Kata with no arms movements. We went from looking great to feeling totally out of our element. It was obvious that not enough of our Kata was coming from the source of power: the floor. We had fast but disconnected hands.
The lesson: Get good before you get fast. Study the tiny elements of every technique.
In Hanshi Don’s Crisp Authority demand, authority denotes ownership and confidence. A Sensei who trained with the likes of Asai and Nakayama, he teaches students to move with certainty in their ability; move with the center of gravity considered; make every movement your own by breaking it down, repeating it, and understanding it.
You don’t always need to be faster than your opponent, you need to be smarter…with better technique.
The second issue I see, especially in Kata competition, is the overuse of stop-dead kime: movements going from 100 to 0. Zero. The Karateka’s head bobs, hair tosses, and the gi flutters and snaps with the full-body lock-up at the end of the technique (these lock-ups or micro-shocks have led to various injuries over time in Karateka that I personally know). The Kata movement is performed with super-high energy, super-fast, and then it stops like a car hitting a brick wall, leaving a noticeable period of dead time, Suki (隙). The energy that isn’t dropped immediately is improperly absorbed back into the striking hand or foot, with micro-impacts felt all over the body.
I believe kime should be a moment of decision and focus, yes—but never a termination of energy. Abrupt stops and starts create holes in Kata that detract from flow and tempo. A decision to focus a gyaku tsuki into your opponent’s midsection needs to be followed immediately by another insurance technique, or by recollecting your limbs to the point of attack again (to the point of connectivity), immediately. Either way, there is a natural continuation, and you need to control your energy to do so.
“Bam and pause” Karate is problematic. Yes, we look for todome waza, or a blow that incapacitates the attacker, but we don’t deliver it and hope for the best. Remember, todome waza demands that a number of things come together perfectly at a very precise time, not the least of which is hitting the target with exactness. As I see it, a Karateka needs to attack, and attack again, without hesitation in order to be effective. Kata was built in such a way to help us train in transitions, from one position (one direction to another), in a continual, uninterrupted flow, delivering powerful attacks. Lock-up = hesitation.
In my adult class there are two students who have recently found their Kata, and it became obvious in our last class before the Christmas break. I asked Renee Robichaud and Peter Psathas, 1st Kyu brown belts, to do one of the Heian Kata so that I could highlight points of importance to the 8th – 7th Kyu students. As they took the yoi position, Peter visibly hit a zone where he was empty of thought and completely engaged. Peter’s Karate is austere and powerful, with defined execution of movements. Renee’s Karate exudes enjoyment. As she went to yoi, her zone was one of serious excitement. Renee is the quintessential example of how being determined to make your Karate technically excellent, before anything else, pays off. She took the time to master the foundation before adding horsepower. Her patience has served her well.
Both students moved with tempo and determination: crisp authority. Renee’s use of natural compression and expansion (including proper breathing) fueled her Kime, and Peter’s naturally good posture and connection with the floor made his movements formidable. These were slightly different styles that were equally effective: Crisp authority with very little very little Suki.
Whatever Karate or Kata you choose to do is right for you. It’s personal. But once in a while, we need to step back and examine it. Are we getting fast but losing technique definition? Are we spending all our time on Kata that comes naturally to us and ignoring the others? Are we frustrating ourselves by attempting Kata movements our bodies won’t allow? Most importantly, are we enjoying the Kata we are doing, and are we finding our own truth in it? Truth as in, will this work for me? Am I feeling the effectiveness of this technique? Am I enjoying this?
Granted, my thinking on Kata is conventional, and I practice it and teach it as a means of understanding fighting principles as well as a vehicle to mindfulness. In my mind, Kata has to be effective, and in order for it to be effective, it has to be crisp and authoritative (thank you Hanshi Don), all the while considering the fullness and usability of the techniques in it.
In any case, I try to teach my students that Kata (as well as the rest of your Karate) should be a personal challenge and a means of fulfillment. If you put your head and your body into Kata (it is both physical and academic), then it inevitably becomes authentic for you.
That’s what karate is: a challenge to yourself to be the best you can be.
- Authentic Kata with “Crisp Authority” - March 27, 2026
- Redefining the Warrior - July 2, 2025
- Sensei Who? - May 14, 2025
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