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A monumental turning point for Aikido in Victoria was the first Summer School, held at Monash. Tony began talking about the idea some time beforehand and was key to its coming to fruition. Sugano sensei was invited to teach and he accepted. A small but extremely welcomed contingent of students accompanied sensei. It included two students of Chiba sensei, who had moved to the UK with Osensei’s authority to replace Abbe sensei in 1964- John Caldwell (nidan) and David Armstrong (shodan) – both of whom had who had emmigrated from Britain to Sydney.
Speaking personally, while Sugano sensei was magical, he was beyond anything I could contemplate doing at that time. Caldwell and Armstrong, however, spoke more to my level and assured me that maybe I too could advance in Aikido. I look at that experience now and realise the absolute necessity of transmission in Aikido, learning though doing not through coaching. As a secondary school teacher, I l was told that this goes by the name “cascading”. But, in the Aikido context, where the individual relationship between teacher and student is different, commitment and trust are key elements. Caldwell and Armstrong did not use us as punching bags but they led us into situations where the only was out was to learn a new way.
That first Summer School gave Aikido in Melbourne and I think Australia as a whole, new impetus and direction. A whole new layer of students were introduced to Sugano sensei’s magic and Monash became the centre of Aikido gravity, attracting many students and others who are still practising; A few names Felicia Birman, Mark Matcott, Ray Oldman, John Watson, Leon Metzling, Mick DeJonge and Barry Knight, then a 29 year old North Melbourne trainee ruckman who just loved the physicality of what we did, and who went on to discover and follow his own path.
After Friday night practice we all drove to Tino Ceberano’s dojo in Balwyn for another session, usually taken by Dave Brown. And, it was only natural that we would then go to Eltham on Saturday afternoon to practise in Tony’s dojo, either in the basement of a local Judoka’s house or in the cow shed on someone’s farm.
Tales about those days are perhaps exaggerated but there really were cows in the field; the mat was a bit more rough and lumpy than Hombu dojo; the ceiling joists were too low to safely swing a Jo but we had a great time. Once, Tony borrowed a suitcase-sized video camera from his College with, I think, the intention of recording our practice. I think he did but my recollection is only of the time afterwards when we clowned around as Martial Arts Masters demonstrating our SECRET TCHNIQUES. Tony tells me that he has the video still. We were serious but we really had a lot of fun in those days.
