ShinsungHwa: Visualizing Sword Master Daniguchi Yasunori’s Spiritual Energy (2019)
What is ShinsungHwa?
ShinsungHwa is a unique form of spiritual art where drawings emerge through spontaneous, flowing movements. Artists tap into their subject’s energy and let Qi(氣) guide their hands, creating geometric patterns that serve as a universal language.
A Short Introduction to Taniguchi Yasunori Hanshi 9-dan’s ShinsungHwa
Recently, a kendo practitioner reached out to me. Out of the many ways to cultivate body and mind, they’d chosen the way of the sword and asked if I could create ShinsungHwa portraits of two highly respected masters: Taniguchi Yasunori Hanshi 9-dan and Mochida Moriji Hanshi 10-dan. Their email reflected a genuine admiration for both kendo and these teachers, and I wanted to honor that sincerity.
My first step was to confirm whether it was possible to create ShinsungHwa portraits of these particular masters. Thankfully, permission was granted. Next, I thought about what these portraits might offer—not only to me as the artist, but also to those who would view them. While I’m not familiar with the world of kendo, I realized that mastery of the sword is, at heart, much like any path of spiritual practice. With that in mind, I took on this commission as a public service, choosing not to accept any fee.
According to the requester’s note, the highest rank currently attainable in Japanese kendo is 8-dan. The 9-dan rank has essentially faded away, so Taniguchi Yasunori is remembered as one of the last people in Japan to receive an honor above 8-dan—someone the requester deeply respects. Meanwhile, Mochida Moriji, holding the 10-dan, is seen as legendary, almost saint-like, within the kendo community.
At first, I wondered if these sword masters would seem to carry a sense of aggression or ‘killing intent.’ But as I worked on the ShinsungHwa, I saw something different: a warmth and gentle light present throughout. To me, their approach to kendo feels rooted more in compassion than in defeating others. The real opponent, perhaps, is oneself.
Hands can be seen as a sign of skill. In Taniguchi Yasunori’s portrait, his hands connect with the ‘spiritual core’ and the ‘symbol of light,’ revealing the true foundation of his kendo.
Even though my own knowledge of kendo is limited, I’d like to suggest that its ultimate goal might be to unify body and mind through the sword—eventually transcending even that unity and arriving at a place of complete spiritual immersion.
Yasunori Taniguchi and the Art of the Sword
There’s something almost magical about watching an old master practice with a wooden sword. The way they move—not rushed, not showy—just perfectly, quietly right. Yasunori Taniguchi was one of those people. Watch him in action and you might think he was dancing with an invisible partner, each step and swing flowing like water.
A Life Devoted to the Way
Yasunori Taniguchi (谷口安則) wasn’t born famous. Like most masters of Japanese swordsmanship, he started as a regular kid who picked up a bamboo sword and began the long, sometimes frustrating journey of learning kendo—literally “the way of the sword.” In Japan, kendo isn’t just about fighting. It’s more like a conversation between your body, your mind, and centuries of tradition.
By the time most of us heard his name, Taniguchi had already reached kendo’s summit. He earned the rank of 9th dan (kyudan), which in the kendo world is like conquering Everest. Only a handful of people ever make it that far, and even fewer earn the title of hanshi—a master teacher who can guide others along the path.
Learning from Giants
Every great teacher once had a great teacher, and Taniguchi was no different. He studied under Sasaburo Takano, a legendary figure who helped shape modern kendo in the early 20th century. Imagine learning piano from someone who knew Mozart personally—that’s the kind of lineage Taniguchi inherited.
This wasn’t just about sword techniques. In Japanese martial arts, you don’t just inherit moves; you inherit an approach to life itself. Taniguchi absorbed not only proper sword work, but how to carry himself, how to treat opponents with respect, and how to see each practice session as a small step toward becoming a better person.
The Teacher’s Teacher
What set Taniguchi apart wasn’t just his skill—it was how he shared it. Many of today’s 8th dan masters, including respected teachers like Chiba sensei and Arima sensei, learned from him. Picture a family tree, except instead of passing down eye color or height, they were passing down the precise way to hold a sword, the exact moment to strike, and the quiet dignity that true mastery requires.
During the 2002 celebrations marking the 50th anniversary of Japan’s national kendo organization, Taniguchi demonstrated his teaching methods before crowds of practitioners. These weren’t flashy performances designed to wow tourists. They were careful, methodical lessons in swordsmanship’s building blocks—the kind of practice that looks simple but takes decades to perfect.
The Art of Forms
One of Taniguchi’s specialties was teaching kata—the choreographed sequences that preserve kendo’s most essential techniques. If regular kendo practice is like jazz improvisation, kata is classical music: every movement planned, every gesture meaningful, no room for error or ego.
These forms might look like elaborate dances to outsiders, but they’re actually wisdom distilled. Each kata tells a story about distance, timing, and the split-second decisions that separate life from death in a real sword fight. Taniguchi had a gift for breaking down these complex sequences into digestible pieces that students could gradually master.
A Quiet Goodbye
On May 19, 2023, Taniguchi passed away, leaving behind a community that had grown around his teaching. His death wasn’t front-page news—kendo masters rarely make headlines—but within the tight-knit world of serious practitioners, it felt like losing a living library.
The tributes that followed revealed something touching about his character. Students didn’t just remember his technical expertise; they talked about his presence, his calm authority, and the way he could make even the most difficult concepts seem achievable. One memorial praised how his “icy posture, demeanor and dynamic swordplay inspired students to embody the true samurai spirit.”
Beyond the Sword
What’s remarkable about figures like Taniguchi is how they keep ancient traditions breathing in a modern world. While most of us were learning computers and smartphones, he was perfecting movements that samurai warriors practiced centuries ago. Yet somehow, these old ways still teach us about focus, respect, and the patient work of improving at something difficult.
The Japanese have a saying: “There are no gates on the main path” (大道に門無し). It means that true learning never ends, that mastery isn’t a destination you reach but a road you travel your whole life. Taniguchi embodied this philosophy, continuing to practice and teach right until the end.
Today, if you visit a kendo dojo anywhere in the world, you might encounter techniques that trace back through Taniguchi to his teacher Takano, and beyond them to generations of swordsmen stretching back centuries. That’s how knowledge survives—not in books or videos, but through the careful repetition of movements from teacher to student, season after season, year after year.
Taniguchi understood that he wasn’t just teaching sword work. He was helping people connect with something larger than themselves, something that demanded patience, humility, and respect. In our age of quick fixes and instant gratification, there’s something almost revolutionary about devoting your life to such slow, careful work.
