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 including, I believe, Roger Savage and Brian Dibble accompanied sensei. As well, there was John Caldwell (nidan) and David Armstrong (shodan), two students of Chiba sensei, both of whom had emigrated from Britain to Australia, while Chiba sensei himself had moved to the UK with Osensei’s authority to replace Abbe sensei in 1964.
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. Later, as a secondary school teacher, I 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 way 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 ruckman playing for North Melbourne Seconds. Barry just loved the physicality of what we did. He 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 a nearby 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 the intention of recording our practice. I think he did some of that but my recollection is only of the time afterwards when we clowned around as “Martial Arts Masters”, demonstrating our SECRET TECHNIQUES. Tony tells me that he has the video still. We were serious but we really had a lot of fun in those days.
Written by Bob Hill Sensei, published April 2025