The term Kinbaku appeared for the first time in written form in 1952 in the magazine “Kitan Club”. It is a word of Chinese origin, and therefore has a more formal sound than the similar Japanese word “shibari“. Both terms are used in Japan to refer to bondage done with ropes. For the linguistic differences between the two words you can read this article on our blog.
On this page you will find the answers to some questions that may arise of those who approach this discipline for the first time:
- What is the beauty of kinbaku?
- How can beauty be found in suffering?
- What is the relationship between two people who experience a kinbaku session together?
- What drives practitioners to engage in a kinbaku session?
The beauty of kinbaku
Kinbaku properly means “tight binding.” Some understand the adjective “tight” in the sense of “making movement completely impossible.” In this feeling of total constriction – to which one must necessarily surrender oneself – we must look for the beauty of kinbaku.
In the West, neophytes often look for the beauty of bondage in the geometric patterns that the ropes draw on the body. According to the canons of Japanese aesthetics – on the contrary – beauty is found precisely in the rough imperfection of what is unrepeatable. The masters of the tea ceremony try to savor the unrepeatability of the present moment (“Ichi go – Ichi e”); the best practitioners of kinbaku, try to enhance through the rope the emotions shared in a moment that will never return.
Chaos and order in the aesthetics of kinbaku
A geometric design strikes the eye decisively, in a manner the Japanese would call hade (派手); but there is – according to Japanese aesthetes – a more refined elegance. In Japan, the greatest admiration goes to the subtly suggested beauty, to the subject that delicately emerges from a seemingly uniform background. The most admired landscape is the snowy one. The snow, unifying the entire background, enhances the subject that subtly emerges, suggesting only its presence.
In the same way, the most appreciated binding is the one in which no rope trivially strikes the eye of the observer; the one in which the ropes do not explicitly show a definite order, but a harmony that can be grasped only from the whole. From the uniform harmony of the ropes, delicately emerges the bound person, lost in the universe of his own imagination; passive and composedly resigned to the suffering he is experiencing.
The beauty of the kinbaku is that of the body of the person tied up, challenged by the rope; of a drop of sweat that wets the forehead for the fatigue; of the abandoned expression of who is living an emotional experience, before than physical.
Aesthetic of suffering in the practice of kinbaku
The quiet acceptance of suffering is one of the aspects most appreciated by admirers of kinbaku. The root of this appreciation is to be found in the dynamic that is created between those who bind and those who are bound. The search for a person to bind who is inclined to “endure pain” is certainly too crude for us to be talking about. We are not talking about a pain to be endured, but a suffering to be experienced together.
In kinbaku, the person who binds and the person who is bound remain united by a deep empathy, and overcome together a moment that challenges the body and mind of both. The pain is not to be endured, but experienced. The acceptance of the suffering created by the ropes becomes the mirror of the contemplation of the transience of things: does not suffering itself austerely remind us of our mortal condition? Is it not perhaps from overcoming a moment of suffering that the greatest joy is born? So how can we not find beauty in the interaction between two human beings who together contemplate their own impermanence through a moment of shared and overcome suffering?
Two people, one spirit
Kinbaku is a moment of sharing. Two people bare their souls to each other. Total trust in the other is clearly a prerequisite. The one who is bound must know that the one who binds will take care of his physical and psychological safety; the one who binds must be sure of the sincerity of the one who is bound about his limits, his fears, his state of health.
Very often Western binders put in first place the series of positions that they will make the bound person’s body assume during the binding. The Japanese on the contrary look more often the intensity of the emotional experience. The Master Yukimura Haruki said that tying is like accompanying the tied person in the universe of his imagination. Binding becomes like exploring together a wonderland that lies in the soul of the person who is bound.
This is not an easy exploration. It can touch on the most hidden fears and traumas in the soul of a person who is helpless in the face of the person who binds them. The person who binds faces this journey burdened with their own baggage of insecurities and frustrations; they walk through a forest where delicate flowers grow, and they easily risk making the traces of their passage undesirable.
The charm of what intimidates
What drives two people to go through this? The answers are obviously as many as the practitioners, but in general it is undeniable that – especially when we talk about kinbaku – what a little bit scares, very often fascinates.
A session is an opportunity to share and overcome a difficult experience together. It is something that creates a strong bond between the two partners. In the words of Naka Akira “It’s like climbing a mountain together”. The intensity of the sensations, and the depth of the emotional effort leave both partners in a state of grace, aware of themselves and each other.
The beauty of the sharing, however, does not overshadow the importance of the personal experience of each of the two.
Individual motivations of kinbaku practitioners
For those who get tied up, relinquishing control is often a source of relaxation. It might also be an outlet for the pressures induced by a full professional life. The toughness of the physical commitment acts on self-esteem, and for many it is a means of boosting self-confidence.
For those who bind, it is wonderful to contemplate the gift of trust of those who are bound, and the knowledge that they are the main contributors to a person’s state of grace and abandonment after a good kinbaku session is for many a source of deep inner enjoyment.
For those with the right frame of mind, kinbaku is a profound experience, which over time becomes even indispensable. Each session is a moment to spiritually enrich oneself and the other. Each bonding is an opportunity to cement the relationship between the two even more.
It is unlikely that a course of kinbaku is enough to understand all these concepts. That’s why we decided to turn our project “School of Rope” in a real meeting point. A school of bondage that students can attend every week, learning not only the techniques needed to tie; but also the skills needed to create the context of a good session of kinbaku.
Kinbaku and photography
Kinbaku has been represented since its beginnings in magnificent, powerful and dramatic photographs. By making these very photographs, the forerunners of this discipline gave rise to the iconic shapes we know today.
We suggest delving deeper by starting with the biographies of the earliest masters of whom we have traces remaining. Among them:
- Itou Seiu
- Minomura Kou
- Nureki Chimuo
- Akio Fuji
- Sugiura Norio
Even today, photography is an important medium in spreading appreciation of this discipline. Rope Tales is dedicated to keeping this tradition alive through the Yugen Studio Magazine project. This is a quarterly publication produced at our studio, cooperating with our students and with esteemed professionals as well.