On the occasion of Didier Boyet’s 80th Birthday
I rushed into Hombu Dojo’s changing room, put on my gi and hakama, and bowed into the third-floor dojo ahead of Endo Sensei’s Monday night class. It was the spring of 1997, and I was practically vibrating with joy and anticipation. I sat down next to Liese Klein and said, “Catlan is pregnant. I’m going to be a father!” As Liese congratulated me with a big smile and a hug, I heard behind me a voice in an unmistakable Gallic accent: “I would never bring a child into this world.”
At the time, I had known Didier Boyet Sensei for about a year. I had quickly learned what generations of aikido practitioners before and after would know: Didier was a force, on and off the mat. I had come to Hombu after a year at the New York Aikikai, where I had been repeatedly bounced around by the legion of Yamada Sensei’s instructors and senior students. But I had never experienced the disconnect that I felt practicing with Didier, where whatever I was doing was completely inadequate to the occasion.
I was always, always the uke. I have, to this day, a recollection somewhere deep inside of attempting to throw Didier only to end up on my ass with little understanding of how it happened. I was 30 years old, in great shape, with no lack of energy. But none of that seemed to matter.
And it got worse.
Despite seeming to improve, at least in reference to everyone else I trained with, every time I practiced with him I grew more frustrated. Moreover, as he got to know me, he would offer succinct commentary on my limitations. “No… no… no.” “Dame (no good).” “That is not going to work.” And so on.
Monday night was my usual weekly comeuppance, sometimes for two hours in a row. He would raise an eyebrow as I bowed to him and say, “again?”
Yes, again.
And again.
Over time, I observed just how he practiced, how he approached keiko, how he conducted himself. He made no secret of his disdain for people he disapproved of, either for their aikido or their conduct, or both. Off the mat, I was part of a group centered around Miyamoto Sensei. We all ate and drank together on Friday nights. We were frequently witnesses to the sharp criticisms of those who didn’t live up to Didier’s standards. “DIDIER!” Miyamoto Sensei would bellow in mock – or not so mock - anger. “Sou iu na! (Don’t say such things).”
Didier’s contempt for much of the world in general is only matched by his enthusiasm for aikido and iaido, jazz and baroque music, food and drink, art and literature, and for arguing about all of the above – or anything else (famously, for example, whether sheep eat facing downhill). Perhaps even more notable is his devotion to his teachers and friends. In 2006, Chiba Sensei brought his most senior students to Hombu for an unprecedented (and never repeated) Shihan certification ceremony with Dōshu. The total number of people in the group was at least 30. Didier arranged a series of get togethers, made reservations for everyone to go to an onsen, and ensured Chiba Sensei and Mrs. Chiba were taken care of the whole time. Hombu was in charge of the formal party, but two days beforehand, Osawa Sensei called up Didier and with some urgency admitted they didn’t have a space to accommodate everyone. Didier took care of that, too. I was a first-hand witness to all of this and was gobsmacked at the effort and efficiency that he showed.
Aikido Daiwa has had the privilege of hosting Boyet Sensei many times for seminars, to the delight of my students. He is a fantastic teacher, who gives everything he has every time he is on the mat. He is demanding, exacting and relentless as he works to pass on what he has learned. There are very few people left who trained under Ueshiba Kisshomaru Dōshu, Osawa Kisaburo Sensei, Shirata Sensei, Saito Sensei, Yamaguchi Sensei, Arikawa Sensei and Chiba Sensei. Didier is a repository of Aikido as much as anyone I’ve known. And he does all he can to support succeeding generations.
I have taken what I can from him, though I’ve never tried to imitate him on the mat. I am still trying to figure out just how he does what he does. But I’ve taken an awful lot of ukemi from him in the past 30 years, some of which has rubbed off on me, and for that I will forever be grateful.
In those three decades, he has watched our three children grow up from infancy. Our daughter Sarah said “Didier” before “daddy.” Micaela, our eldest and the subject of Didier’s remark on the wisdom of becoming a parent at all, fittingly was born on his birthday, Sept. 4. She and I are delighted to be celebrating his 80th birthday with him in Paris, just as we celebrated his 60th in Tokyo.
Happy Birthday, Didier.
John Brinsley
Chief Instructor
Aikido Daiwa