The long game with Lukas continues, following 10.0 and 10.1. I’m ambivalent about my position now, though I’m still having a blast. I am eager to discuss this game with Lukas, and perhaps do a little AI analysis, but I’ll be patient until the game’s conclusion. Admittedly I am frustrated after certain moves, particularly L14 – not to mention the disaster on the left side – but trying to stay strong.
The long game with Lukas continues below. I am satisfied with my position, but when playing a much stronger player, early misunderstandings about the status of certain shapes can bring about a swift collapse later in the game. What I experience as a stable position may in fact be tenuous. In any case, I am doing my best to approach this game with confidence – there is no sense in playing fearfully, as if I am going to be punished at every turn. Instead, I play as an equal, and will learn all I can from the experience of defeat.
EDIT: The time settings are 3 stones/week, but we have each been playing roughly one move per day.
I am always looking for new ways to learn Go. Poetry keeps me on the tsumego train, but I felt the need to spice up my regular games. Inspired by the long game in Yasunari Kawabata’s The Master of Go, I decided to ask Lukas if he would play a long correspondence game with me. This way I can think a little more carefully about each move, and write about the game as I play. I don’t know if this will produce a higher quality game on my end, but so far it has interrupted my usual habits and forced me to think of at least a few more possibilities than I normally would.
Below are the first 20 moves of the game. I am playing white. The time settings are 3 moves/week, giving me the freedom to check in when I have some free time and ponder some variations. Although black controls three corners so far, I’m satisfied with my position. Lukas probably has other thoughts, but I feel confident – a bit of the Dunning-Kruger effect, perhaps.
This game with Lukas was played over a week ago, and it gave me much to think about. Although every game of Go is unique, Lukas said that this one’s feel was different from previous games. This happened to be the first game I played since moving to a new city and starting a new job. Coincidence? I think not.
I made the decision to play the 5-4 point. Life began as I leapt into a different forest in search of a new species of Go.
This is how I would like to approach the game from now on: trekking through unknown woods without fear.
In the game below, commented by me with some of Lukas’ suggestions, I played black, and Lukas won by 20.5 points.
Recent events have prevented me from writing in this journal, but I’m happy to finally return.
About a month ago, I decided to adopt a cat. I drove 90 miles across the unforgiving winter landscape of southcentral Alaska to bring home the being I have named Ponnuki, who has brought to my life all the livingness of Go.
Ponnuki is energetic, powerful, and sharp: a vital companion, all in a lethally efficient and aesthetically pleasing shape.
To honor my cat, I thought I’d consider on the role of ponnuki in a recent lesson with Lukas, commented below by me with some of Lukas’ suggestions and observations. I played white, and lost by resignation.
Some exciting interviews are coming up soon. Stay tuned.
I met Lukas Podpera, the Czech Go Baron, at the Västerås Go Tournament in Sweden, where he was the top-ranked player. As I was gathering a few wins and losses against opponents around my level, Lukas was busy smashing everyone away from the top board, which was kept in a separate room apart from the main playing areas. Because of this I did not see Lukas very often, so he seemed especially mysterious and powerful. At the end of the three-day tournament, I noticed him helping one of his opponents create a record of their game, so I decided that he could not be the Go monster I had been imagining sitting behind the top board. I worked up the courage to introduce myself and, before I even knew what I was doing, asked if he would be willing to teach me.
It turned out to be a good plan. Relative to Lukas, I am a beginner, and each lesson feels like a personalized masterclass. The fluidity and creativity of his play is astounding, and so is the way he reviews each game, anticipating all of my questions and problem areas with kindness and humility.
Below is our most recent game, commented by me with a few of Lukas’ suggestions, followed by an interview with him. In the game, I felt I did well given the difference in strength, but made a terrible blunder at the end because my brain was exhausted trying to keep up with Lukas.
And now, the interview.
River: How would you describe your teaching philosophy?
Lukas: I try to help my students understand that Go is not a fight, but rather a game about building. So, they should always prefer to build territory, and be aggressive only if necessary. Also, I teach my students that they should always understand what they are doing and, when they play moves, that they always have some plan behind them. My important task is also to prevent students from making errors in basic principles.
R: How would you describe your style of play?
L: I’m a calm player, focusing on having strong shapes and a lot of solid territory. I use brute force only if necessary—for example, to punish an opponent’s mistake. So, when someone is watching my game, one might have the feeling that I’m doing nothing. Mostly, I’m focusing on doing things right by myself and waiting for my opponent’s mistake. This strategy needs a lot of patience and often leads to close games. I had to study a lot of endgame to make it sharp. My half-year stay in China six years ago helped me with that a lot.
R: What was your experience in China like?
L: I spent half a year in Beijing in one of the most famous Chinese Go schools led by Mr. Ge Yuhong. I studied there with five other strong European players and something like a hundred Chinese youth. Training in the Asian professional development context was a really exhausting but unforgettable experience. From Monday to Friday, we studied Go for 12 hours per day. During the weekends we either had some friendship matches with Chinese players or we participated in a tournament. Occasionally we did some sightseeing, such as going to the Great Wall of China.
R: What do you enjoy most about Go?
L: This question I usually answer simply: the endless possibilities and variations for trying to win. Before each game I can always design a strategy about how I will try to get the victory. Thanks to that, I’m sure I will never get bored of playing. Also, Go has helped me to get to know a bit more about myself.
R: What has Go helped you learn about yourself?
L: I believe that Go shows a lot about my personality, but that’s not the case for everyone. Go helped me learn to be patient and more decisive. Making the right decision in life has been always difficult for me, and I was always doubting myself. That doesn’t happen so often anymore. Go also taught me to tell the entire truth in any kind of situation, and to never lie to myself or anyone else.
R: How has your Go world changed since the rise of AI? What do you think the future holds?
L: At first, I was conservative and felt very suspicious about the new ways of playing that AI created. Eventually, I had to adopt a lot of new methods into my play, and in the end, it proved to be a positive decision. This gave me new opportunities to explore the game even more. Also, I realized that many moves that I would never think about before are now easily playable. However, I’m still careful about studying a lot with AI, because although it’s nice to learn some new moves or sequences, AI will not tell us the meaning. Therefore, I usually adopt a new method in my play only when it is explained to me by an Asian professional. Since I believe that the sure-win strategy will never be discovered, the arrival of AI should be judged positively. On the other hand, there is a negative aspect: I’m worried that, because AI applications are available to anyone in these days, it will kill online tournaments in the near future.
R: What is your most memorable game?
L: Immediately I think of my two most successful results: bronze medals in the European Championships in 2016 and 2019. I would probably pick my quarterfinal game from 2019 against European pro Ali Jabarin, which was one of my best performances ever.
R: Who are your Go heroes and why?
L: I would like to mention two. The first is Vladimir Danek 6-dan, a Czech player who was my teacher when I was a middle-dan player. He was a National Champion like 12 times, has been playing Go since 1970’s and basically built the Czech Go community from nearly zero. Even though he holds a PhD in mathematics and physics, he has spent his life with Go. He even had a big Go-shop of his own.
The second is Lee Changho – a famous Korean player who was world no. 1 15-20 years ago. I admire him for his calm and peaceful style, which was enough to beat the rest of the world. At that time, he had a winning rate similar to what Shin Jinseo has now. I was so lucky to meet Lee Changho three times in person.
R: What was it like organizing the Corona Cup?
L: Originally, I planned the first edition of the Corona Cup (Spring 2020) to be only a Central European event. However, the announcement about the tournament started to spread faster than the COVID-19 virus itself. In the end it became a huge event, which I was not really prepared for. It became a really big responsibility to make it run smoothly. Fortunately, I had prior experience organizing and refereeing tournaments. Anyway, those were a really exhausting 6 weeks for me, but despite that I enjoyed it and I think the participants did as well.
I made a second edition that autumn, but this time I had help from a team of organizers, so not everything was on my shoulders. It went even better than before, and the number of players reached 400. Because the pandemic situation is not getting much better, there is a good chance I will be making a third edition in the next few months.
R: Are there any upcoming Go-related events that you’re particularly excited about?
L: 2021 is a year when the European Pro Qualification will be held again. Of course, we need to wait for the moment when it’s possible to hold live tournaments and to be able to travel. I have already reached the final twice, so I hope that, should I reach a third one, that I will finally be successful. That is my main goal for this year. Otherwise, as usual I’m looking forward to the European Championship and the European Grand Slam. Hopefully, they will be allowed to be held live as well.
Part of my inspiration to create and write in this journal comes from the work of Camille Lévêque, a 28-year-old Frenchwoman who has played Go since 2018, and has already achieved the rank of European 2-dan. For three years, she has drawn for the Go community behind the alias Stoned on the Goban and teaches at the Grenoble School of Go. I first discovered Camille’s work at the 2019 European Go Congress, where there was a table displaying her art. I didn’t have the opportunity to meet Camille at that time, but I continued to see her art appear on Facebook. When I noticed she was also participating in the Yunguseng program, I decided to subscribe to her Patreon and reach out. Camille kindly offered to play a game with me and agreed to participate in a short interview, both of which are included below.
I played Black with a two-stone handicap. The game was challenging and fun for me. I found Camille’s moves solid and calm, and I felt like I was being pushed to produce my best Go. Camille won by a comfortable margin, but according to Camille I played well.
To summarize, I handled my lower left corner group far too casually, and Camille found a great way to attack and kill it. Thanks to the handicap, I didn’t have to resign but I knew that winning was unlikely. Nevertheless, I made the game competitive by focusing on building a big moyo, which Camille reduced well with moves like White 73. Our review of the game was informative, and I learned some new techniques and shapes from Camille’s play (such as the capture with White 49, or the clever move of White 77).
And now, the interview.
River: How would you describe yourself and your role in the Go community?
Camille: I am very “young” in the Go community, as I started playing three years ago, but I entered the community fully very quickly, and I have not stopped playing and meeting new people. I felt so welcome that I absolutely wanted to participate in the game, too. It’s in my character: I don’t like to just be a consumer. Everyone can contribute to a community, I’m sure. This partly explains why today I devote myself almost exclusively to the Go community! I was previously a professor of agricultural technology; today, I am an illustrator and creator of content at 80% for the game of Go. I am currently in charge of the development of the Grenoble School of Go, where I have been teaching since September. I couldn’t have imagined this three years ago, especially teaching Go! I am creative and committed, and I have the great opportunity to be supported by a community, so I hope to participate in the promotion of Go, but especially for female players, who are often invisible.
R: How would you describe your style of play?
C: I have a very instinctive playstyle that is strongly inspired by the AI style, simply because I started playing long after such technology was born. I think instinct is my greatest strength; conversely, the more calculating and deep reading phases are difficult for me.
R: Who are your Go heroes and why?
C: There are a lot of inspiring people in Go, apart from the immense strength of the professional players, of whom I know little about. In France, women players have inspired and motivated me: Astrid Gautier, Dominique Cornuejols… strong women who cement the links between people. My heroes are those who work behind the scenes to make this game accessible to everyone, and there are many of them.
R: What do you enjoy most about playing Go?
C: My favorite thing is the atmosphere of a game surrounded by friends, when every move evokes a laugh or a nod. I like the sharing that games bring in general. When I play, on the other hand, I especially like the beauty of a goban that gradually fills up, with a story in each sequence.
R: How do you mentally prepare for a game?
C: I don’t really prepare myself. In tournament games I am extremely stressed out and always find it difficult to play calmly. Usually, games in public make me uncomfortable, because of the judgment of my game, I guess. When I master my game environment, I especially try to refocus on my feeling, which guides my game a lot. I know ignoring your opponent is important, but one can’t play on the goban without the other player.
R: How do you deal with unexpected setbacks, on or off the board?
C: I have a lot of difficulty recovering a game that has advanced badly for me. I naturally tend to “see” the winning percentage that an AI would give me, and therefore know that the game is badly started. Then, it’s mentally difficult to make a comeback, especially since I don’t like playing harsh moves and prefer to admit that my opponent played better. But overall, the defeats don’t bother me if I feel like I have given my best.
R: How would you describe the relationship between Go and art?
C: I think a lot of great players have done it better than me. I found Go to be beautiful immediately, because it balances simplicity and complexity. Its rules and materials are simple, but its depth is almost infinite. There aren’t many planks of wood and pebbles that can inspire humans so much.
R: Can you tell us about your Inktober series?
C: Inktober is an annual drawing challenge in which there is one new theme per each day of October. I have never managed to complete an Inktober yet, but I do better every year. This year I wanted a graphical consistency between all the illustrations, and to get out of my comfort zone: the sweet and cute characters who play Go. Some themes were extremely difficult, such as “chef.” I am happy with the result, which allowed me to test new techniques, and still inspires me for future illustrations.
R: How does Go relate to other parts of your life?
C: Go infuses almost all of my life today: my meetings, my work, and even my home, because I live with roommates … who are also Go players! Go has made me feel stronger and listened to, and it’s already a good result.
R: Are there any recent or upcoming Go-related events or activities that you’re particularly excited about?
C: Even though I appreciate the connection that digital technology allows us, the events that I look forward to more than anything are the return to real life, for example the next European Go Congress. But we’ll have to wait some more.
The Palace’s Call
The space was vast,
And the land was so silent
That all its music could be made
From the most ordinary bell,
Housed in the deepest chamber of the palace.
It calls, in the rhymes of divine calculus,
To the forlorn traveler, lost over the horizon,
With the way toward home and peace.
The deaf scribe, shivering by a candle,
Feels the song in the palace walls,
And translates with his hands
A recreation of its welcome.
I did not want to write about this game. After losing on time from a winning position, I first had to find a way to let go of frustration. The poem above, about the experience of Go through language and writing, is my attempt to do so.
I won’t say much about the game, except that losing on time is an unpleasant reminder that we are mortal and our time here is not infinite. I had five seconds to make a move, reset my clock, and continue playing, but I hesitated. I fell into a delusion that I was not subject to time’s power. My failure to play in those five seconds might look like simple panic, but it actually shows a terrible weakness in my game: that my desire for the psychological comfort of victory can distract me from the most fundamental responsibilities.
Apart from the ending, I felt great in this game. I had a significant time advantage throughout and I felt confident about my plans, but my opponent played very well under pressure, troubling me after I couldn’t make the important psychological shift to playing in byo-yomi, during which one must let go of finding perfect moves. The AI analysis, which shows me leading throughout the game, can be viewed here, though I am looking forward more to hearing In-seong’s thoughts.
The interview series I promised last time will begin in the next post. Thanks for reading.
I started playing Go in high school. Like many, I was influenced by the manga Hikaru no Go, and the game became my part-time escape from the rigors of school and the mad dash to get into the “best” university. At the time, Anchorage had a fairly active Go club that met at a local bookstore once a week. There I met Mr. H—, who guided me through the basic principles of the game patiently and kindly. I cannot understate his influence on my life. Whenever I’m home in Alaska, he has always been there, willing to play a game and teach me something. He represents the kind of personal and intellectual strength I would like to see in myself. Every game with Mr. H— is very special to me, as I know there is something valuable to be learned, and I know he cares about my progress and success on and off the board.
When the bookstore could no longer host the club, we started going to Mr. H—’s house to play. Mr. H— also repairs electronics, and his house is filled with an array of devices, parts, and tools I don’t recognize. He is also an exceptional classical guitarist, and has many guitars and their cases on display—and I haven’t even mentioned his Go board collection. Imagine playing Go in such a powerful space! To honor Mr. H—, I wrote a poem some time ago:
Mr. H—’s Go Salon
Room of connections,
Circuits, fine instruments,
Made with many seasons.
Two eyes make life:
Guiding hands above
The earthly plane
In starry talk
Of new realms,
At the threshold
Of an open door.
Design, fortify, negotiate
How eternity will cease,
Take its measure
And begin again.
Below is a recent game I played with Mr. H—. According to AI we both made some pretty serious mistakes, but I learned many lessons from this game. Two seem to jump out: first, a game can be decided by very small misunderstandings. I am thinking of Mr. H—’s separation of my top left group from my center stones. I thought I saw a sequence that would keep them connected, but clearly I did not understand the situation properly, and played too hubristically. According to AI, my biggest mistakes were Black 141-159, around the time I got separated (and shortly after that resigned). The other lesson is one that Lukas has also shared with me: just because you can read and play a sequence, that doesn’t mean that it’s good. I’m thinking about my cut at J13, which in itself wasn’t a bad idea but I mishandled the follow-up. Mr. H— had many great suggestions during the review. You can see the AI-analysis here.
Stick around for my next two posts, which will include interviews with some interesting Go players.
It is snowy here in Alaska, so I have been able to get out and cross-country ski a few times since returning from Belgium. I love to glide peacefully along on the flats, but I have yet to develop technique strong enough to master steep, panic-inducing downhills. One of my skiing companions gave me the following advice: fall early and often.
My Go is a lot like my skiing. I can do it, and sometimes make it down medium-sized hills, but I’m not quite ready for the racetracks of dan-level competition. So for this entry, I decided to interpret the game through the lens of my friend’s advice, as Go is basically one steep hill, whether you are climbing up or falling down it.
Because I am in Alaska, the weekend game schedule for Yunguseng Group D ended up being quite early: 4:00 am! I could have rescheduled, but I learn much more from the reviews when they are immediately after the game. Anyways, I felt fresh and ready for competition; however, my 10-week-old cat, Ponnuki, always wants to play at this time of day. A strategically placed roll of toilet paper distracted him.
I split my previous two games with my opponent, “hdc,” so I knew that our game this time could go either way. The game was a gradual, peaceful climb to the top of a hill, where we both realized that whoever could get to the bottom first would win. I fell early and often as fast as I could, distracting my more graceful opponent, who missed an opportunity to finish the game.
In the process I discovered that my desire to win overpowered my sense of danger, which worked this time but probably won’t on future occasions. I’m thinking specifically of my jumps out into the center, which hdc could have disconnected with a double-wedge after my misguided peep at F11 (Black 115). I had a strong feeling that such a disconnection was possible, but I ignored it because I knew if I didn’t reduce white with the knight’s move at G6 (Black 125), I would lose. I should have taken time to regroup and play something like H13 and K11, then resume my “descent” into white’s area, even if it meant losing. Because I won, this is a difficult lesson to accept, but my next opponent might find such a weakness in my position.
As usual, In-seong had many great suggestions. My atari at B17 was bad, as it gives white the option of easy life should Black disconnect the group somehow. Black 71 should have cut the two stones on the other side to make the O16 group heavy. Trying to cut White with Black 95 was a bad idea. As In-seong explained, my pushes up to that point were good but I needed to “return home” with a peep at M11 and cut at M13, which I played but only after I lost the two stones on the right. Lastly: I need to review the double approach move I played on the bottom left.
Onward to the next hill!