Sumo: A Brief Historical and Aesthetic Overview

What is sumo? Western depictions majoritively treat it as a joke – rarely does any mention of it go deeper than the visual spectacle of fat men in loincloths. However, the reality of Japan’s national sport is far more interesting. What separates sumo from other modern sports are the extensive rituals and pageantry; what separates it from being purely a display of conserved traditions is both the vibrant and ongoing culture and the athletic event itself. Through sumo, there can be found beauty, contrast, and discourse on the nature of aesthetics, the human form, and tradition. But to truly engage with sumo, its roots must first be explored.

The idea of sumo being Japan’s national sport is somewhat strange at a glance. The ancient combat tradition almost seems out of place. However, the history of its development as it relates to Shinto and Japan’s cultural identity helps shed some light on why it rose to and has had such continued prominence. The earliest explicit historical mention of sumo takes place in 642, described in the Nihon Shoki as an event performed for a visiting Korean prince (Takayama). With that said, records of a sport resembling sumo date back well before the common era in Japan. Myths, legends, and other representations of the prehistoric battle between Takemikazuchi and Takeminakata describe a sumo-like wrestling match, believed to be the first. This arguably marks the beginning of sumo.

Before the emergence of sumai no sechie (court sumo) and early kanjin sumo (fund-raising sumo), sumo matches were held at Shinto shrines as a way to honor and entertain kami, thus facilitating the following year’s harvest. When sumo did become a court event during the Heian period (794-1192), despite becoming a “large-scale spectacular event”, it retained its religious meaning “meant to divine agricultural production” (Takayama). While this event fell out of popularity during the Kamakura period, sumo remained in Japan as a form of training for the samurai class. When sumo was reintroduced to the public, it soon became associated with unruly street-brawling and was met with multiple governmental restrictions and bans. During its illicit phase, sumo remained firmly in the public consciousness as a form of entertainment (Thompson, p.613). Sumo was made legal again in 1684 when an application to hold a fundraising event at and for the Tomioka Hachiman Shrine was approved (Thompson, p.614). This effectively marks the beginning of modern sumo.

It was at this point that many modern elements of sumo became standardized. Perhaps most important was the advent of the dohyō, which serves multiple purposes. The dohyō is a raised platform, handmade out of 40 tons of clay. The roof is modeled after a Shinto shrine, and the straw bale boundaries of the ring are reminiscent of shimenawa. Four ropes hanging from the roof represent four Shinto deities corresponding to the four seasons. The dohyō itself strongly evokes certain wabi-sabi characteristics; visually speaking, it is entirely made from clay, straw, and rocks, and, while deliberately constructed, has a kind of rustic simplicity and perfection in its coherence. Nothing is ornamental or ostentatious; it is a wabi-sabi thing by the definition that wabi-sabi things are “earthy, simple, unpretentious, and fashioned out of natural materials” (Koren, p.9). But this monument of understated craftsmanship is not yet complete, deteriorating over the course of the 15-day tournament. The clay dries and cracks, with the surface and sides becoming scarred by the efforts of the men upon it. The dohyō synthesizes elements of wabi-sabi in the sense that it is not expected to remain perfect or eternal; decay is a natural part of its lifecycle. The facts of imperfection and impermanence are reflected in its tenure. It is said that the dohyō represents the spiritual elevation of the wrestlers by physically giving them a platform to perform on. It is also said that it allows them to be seen better by the crowd (Thompson, 615).

Another addition from this period was the creation of the Yokozuna rank. Yokozuna is the highest rank in professional sumo, and they are therefore expected to represent and uphold the values associated with that position of honor. They are distinguished by performing a special ring entrance ceremony in which they wear a white rope, a variant of the shimenawa seen in Shinto holy spaces (Thompson, 618). In all areas of life, they are expected to uphold the dignity and respectability associated with that rank. However, these codes of conduct are not exclusive to the Yokozuna rank. When sumo became a valid profession with a heavy emphasis on Shinto roots, all wrestlers became expected to live a certain way. They live in stables called heya, in which all roles are fulfilled by the wrestlers themselves. Lower ranking rikishi cook, clean, and handle menial tasks. All are required to wear traditional Japanese clothing when in public, consisting of a robe and sandals (of varying materials dependent on rank). They are required to live by certain rules, particularly regarding good public conduct. Violations result in fines and/or suspensions, for both the individual wrestler and his stablemaster. This is a thoroughly polarizing aspect of sumo; the regimented, deeply hierarchical, and almost cloistral existence that has become an integral part of the tradition.

On controversial tradition: the nakedness of sumo wrestling is unavoidable. It is a tradition that many people, Japanese and foreign, find strange about the sport. The reprehension that accompanies viewing the human form is a common one, especially in a sport where so much is made of the physique to the point of fetishization. One perspective on the nature and representation of the human form as well as nudity comes from Linda Nochlin’s essay “Women, Art, and Power”. It may seem absurd at this point to look at sumo through the lens of Nochlin given that her primary focus is the representation of women in western realist art. Sumo, on the other hand, has very little room for the representation of women given that it is explicitly an environment of male exclusivity. In spite of this, it is a highly suitable arena to discuss differing perspectives on the human form.

Nochlin’s argument as presented in the essay “Women, Art, and Power” centers on the dynamics of power, the perceptions associated with it, and subsequent representations. Nochlin closely associates depictions of nudity with vulnerability, passivity, and sexual availability. To her, having the naked body of an individual be available to the gaze (and therefore use) of another is an example of sexual transgression, closely related to “absolute possession” (Nochlin, p.10). It could be argued that her stance is specific to gender binary power dynamics; however, the close relationship she draws between the observance of a human body on its physical merits and objectification, interpreted as an expression of lopsided power dynamics, does apply here. In sumo, as in many other athletic pursuits, the body is not principally a sexual object. Nochlin’s assertions do have contextual merit, but this cross-examination reveals a deficiency in her narrative. This is made clearer by her inclusion of a photograph of a dancer’s legs, described as an “easily grasped, nontransferable synecdoche of sexual power relations” (Nochlin, p.14-15). It could alternatively be seen as a tribute to an athlete’s physical development and prowess. To clarify, this is not an argument that athletes are immune to sexualization. It is rather a demonstration of another way in which the human form can be viewed. As far as nudity goes, in sumo, the wrestlers’ exposure is representative of the fact that nothing is concealed. While the thought of this being anything but awkward or taboo is nearly inconceivable to many, to be basically bare-skinned, hiding nothing, is a mark of honesty in this context rather than sexualization.

So much of the sumo ritual itself is ceremonial in nature. The wrestlers in the top two divisions begin their day of competition with a parade around the dohyo, intended as an offer of prayer to the deities and as a showcase of the wrestlers to the crowd. During this parade, they wear highly personalized aprons (kesho-mawashi) which reflect their hometowns, personalities, and interests. They then circle the ring and perform a ritual that signifies prayer, purification, and empty-handedness. This is the first of many ceremonies, with many more to follow prior to the actual match.

Once both men mount the dohyo, they begin by cleansing their mouths with chikara-mizu (power-water). They then wipe their mouths and bodies with chikara-gami (power-paper), also for purification. This is followed by chirichozu – the wrestlers squat down, spread their arms, clap once, and spread their arms again. This is meant to show their opponent and the crowd that their hands are empty, and that they are ready to engage in unarmed combat. Chirichozu is followed by one of the most notorious rituals; shiomaki, or salt throwing. Salt symbolically drives away evil spirits but is also a famous way for wrestlers to show some individuality. Some wrestlers throw large quantities of salt, others small. Some throw it high into the air, some fan it out into an arc, while others still simply scatter it in front of them. These practices, reflecting a strong emphasis on purification and specifically the usage of salt, demonstrate a close relationship with Shinto harae rituals (Nishioka). Finally, they perform shiko (foot-stomping), which performs a double function. Shiko is one of the primary exercises a wrestler performs and acts as a warmup that also serves to drive away evil spirits.

These rituals all serve to create the ideal spiritual circumstances for the match to take place. The rules of sumo wrestling competition are simple: if any part of the wrestler’s body touches the ground other than the soles of his feet, he has lost the match. If any part of his body touches the ground beyond the rope, he has lost the match. Utilizing an illegal technique (including but not limited to hairpulling, striking with a closed hand, and striking the groin) results in disqualification from the match. There are more rules for special circumstances and specific occurrences, but the premise of sumo is ultimately simple. This simplicity creates a great deal of room for individual stylistic choices, flexibility regarding what is effective at any given moment, and a competitive culture that, while always maintaining a backbone of tradition, emphasizes personal expression.

To find beauty in the art of sumo, Immanuel Kant’s definitions can be useful. On the production of beautiful art, he finds that the two requisite elements are imagination and judgement, with the latter being “the most important thing to which one has to look in the judging of art as beautiful art” (Kant, 322). This union is made quite clear in sumo. The public codes of conduct required of the wrestlers extend to competition; within the freedom of the rules, there is an ever-present expectation of taste. Wrestlers, especially higher-ranking ones, are expected to compete in a way that honors their status as cultural representatives. Sumo is a form of performance art intermingled with the spontaneity inherent to actual combat, distinguished by a foundation of restraint and ritual.

Finding Kant’s beauty involves reaching the point where sumo is “capable of being followed” to meet his criteria (Kant, 322). By defining taste as a criterion of beautiful art and subsequently characterizing it as being that which creates understanding, assent, and capability of being followed, Kant firmly plants beautiful art as being a subjective value especially given that he does not quantify the extent or amount of understanding required. The only genre that Kant explicitly disqualifies from being considered art is nature. On the other hand, anything else that conceptually expresses aesthetical ideas can be considered beautiful art (Kant, 323). Grasping the individualities, technical nuances, adjustments, and tactical decisions over the course of a match reveals an expression of a kind of aesthetical ideas. However, unlike the art that Kant describes, this is not altogether necessary for the appreciation of sumo. Many engage with it as an athletic spectacle, an opportunity to root for the hometown boy, or a place to gather with friends and enjoy the social environment. Further still, admiration for sumo can stem from the sublime.

The utter commitment to upholding tradition is the sumo ritual’s most distinctive characteristic. Dedication at every level, from the regimentation of wrestlers’ daily lives to the apparent religious connections, defines what sumo is. Sumo’s status as an authentic part of Japanese culture is a significant part of the narrative surrounding it, and its devotion to tradition has a noble quality to it. But the final question regarding sumo is this: is this utter commitment to upholding tradition truly worthy of esteem, purely grotesque, or something else entirely? To revisit Nochlin, perhaps her most applicable point comes from her writings on narrative. She writes, “ideology is successful precisely to the degree that its views are shared by those who exercise power and those who submit to it” (Nochlin, p.8). The power of a truly pervasive ideological narrative is that it becomes assumed, unquestioned, and accepted to be true.

Academic inquiry has revealed not-so-watertight roots for much of the sumo narrative of continuity, which came to accepted in the early 18th-century. These “ancient practices” of sumo were chosen, some perhaps even concocted, by a man whose status as an authority has since been called into question (Thompson, p.611-617). This begs the question of what it means for something to be truly legitimate in an environment so committed to tradition, especially given multiple occasions in which the extent and validity of said traditions have been called into question. For example: despite making up a large portion of the audience, women are banned from becoming professionals (as competitors, referees, or announcers) and are traditionally even barred from stepping foot on the dohyo. One specific instance in 2018, publicized in the New York Times, illustrates this barrier emphatically. When a politician delivering a speech collapsed on the dohyo as the result of a brain hemorrhage, female first responders who went to his aid were asked to leave the platform (Rich). So, what does this mean for sumo? Is it truly a wholly unprogressive establishment, running in place toward inevitable irrelevancy? Perhaps not.

Sumo has, seemingly contradictorily, proven to be a very flexible institution. In relatively recent years, it has made multiple adaptations with “very little lag…in relation to other changes in Japanese society” (Fischer, p.41). In the 1990s, there was much controversy surrounding the idea of a foreigner being promoted to Yokozuna. Concerns on whether a non-Japanese born person could possibly embody the Japanese culture and spirit in such a capacity were answered by the Yokozuna deliberation council, who have since granted seven foreigners the honor. But these changes aren’t exclusive to the late-twentieth and early-twenty-first centuries. Sumo’s ability to consistently maintain its place in Japanese culture by way of adaptation is extraordinary, considering that it has been seen as conservative and controversial for hundreds of years (Fischer, p.40-41). Sumo has endured, and will continue to do so, by doing what has worked for thousands of years; preserving tradition by way of acclimatizing to the world it finds itself in. Still, if all else were to fail, sumo has a historically proven safety net; it’s damn entertaining.

Works Cited

Nishioka, Kazuhiko. “Encyclopedia of Shinto詳細.” Harae, https://d-museum.kokugakuin.ac.jp/eos/detail/?id=8732.

Takayama, Shigeru. Sumō. Encyclopedia of Shinto詳細, https://d-museum.kokugakuin.ac.jp/eos/detail/?id=8936.

Thompson, Lee., et al. “CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR SUMO WRESTLING IN THE TOKUGAWA PERIOD.” The Tokugawa World, Routledge, Taylor Et Francis Group, London ; New York, 2022, pp. 611–624.

Fischer, Ann. “Flexibility in an Expressive Institution: Sumō.” Southwestern Journal of Anthropology, vol. 22, no. 1, 1966, pp. 31–42. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/3629332

Rich, Motoko. “Women Barred From Sumo Ring, Even to Save a Man's Life.” New York Times, 5 Apr. 2018, https://www.nytimes.com/2018/04/05/world/asia/women-sumo-ring-japan.html.

Nochlin, Linda. Women, Art, and Power: And Other Essays. Routledge, 2019.

Koren, Leonard. Wabi-Sabi: For Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers. Imperfect, 2008.

Kant, Immanuel. Analysis of the Sublime