Do you want to find out what traditional martial arts are practiced in Vietnam? Do you want to know what Tai Chi is like in Vietnam? And what Ho Chi Minh had to do with the development of the 24-step Tai Chi form? You do? Well, you’re in luck!
This episode of the Tai Chi Notebook Podcast features martial artist and author Augustus John Roe who lives and works in Vietnam. Enjoy!
At the recent 2024 Martial Arts Studies conference in Wales I had the good fortune to meet Randy Brown of Mantis Boxing and Brazilian JiuJitsu in Massachusetts, USA. We had a blast at the conference discussing martial history, theory and even demonstrating a few techniques on each other into the small hours in a pub in Cardiff city center! Not only is Randy highly skilled in mantis boxing, but he’s also a black belt in Brazilian Jiujitsu, so we had a lot in common.
When I was exchanging techniques with Randy he noticed that the Choy Li Fut I was showing was identical to moves from a form he knew called gong li quan, which translates as “power-building boxing”. It was a form he had learned that was used as foundational training for various Ching dynasty martial arts, like long fist, eagle claw boxing and praying mantis boxing.
On gong li quan, Randy writes:
Gōng Lì Quán, or Power Building Boxing, is a unique boxing set from northern China, and is included as a training routine amongst a variety of boxing styles in the north to include: long fist, eagle claw boxing, and praying mantis boxing. This form likely intermixed with the latter two styles when it was included as part of the Jīngwǔ Athletic Association’s fundamental wu shu curriculum. At Jīngwǔ, gōng lì quán was one of the mandatory six empty hand and four weapons sets taught to kung fu practitioners. These ten sets were required as a prerequisite to the study of: xingyiquan, bagua, taijiquan, eagle claw, or mantis boxing; considered by Jīngwǔ founders to be more ‘advanced’ styles.
Our meeting seems to have sparked a desire in Randy to delve further into gong li quan and resurrect this old form he’d forgotten about and try to bring the movement to life with grappling applications. He’s been kind enough to share video of his research.
This was the original move we discussed in Cardiff, 3 Rings Trap the Moon, which in Choy Li Fut would be a gwa choy (back fist) followed by a sau choy (sweeping fist) followed by a biu choy (an outward forearm strike). Randy shows the original move from gong li quan, then his grappling applications. It’s pretty cool!
Randy has been updating his blog post with new applications as he goes, so keep checking back. One of his latest is the move Twining Silk Legs:
Twining Silk Legs is two upper cuts followed by two kicks. Again, Randy shows the move and then his grappling interpretation of the applications. What’s really interesting to me is that, once again, there’s a parallel in Choy Li Fut with this move. If you look at the move starting at 1.22 in the following Choy Li Fut video you’ll see what is essentially the same move as Twining Silk Legs – two upwards strikes followed by a kick. (Ok, just the one kick here, not two, but still…)
You could look at this as further proof that gong li quan and Choy Li Fut share a common ancestor back in the mists of time, but since I’d be willing to bet that other Chinese martial arts practitioners would also recognise these moves from their own systems, I’d venture to say that is is further evidence for Randy’s theory that the explosion of different martial styles during the end of the Ching dynasty (which is where we get Choy Li Fut, mantis, Wing Chun and the other well-known styles) was more about branding the martial arts, for commercial reasons, and that they actually shared a common pool of knowledge.
An extract from the abstract of Randy’s excellent presentation reads:
“A question needs to be asked, did ‘Chinese boxing’ of the era, have a similar common pool of knowledge? Qī Jì guāng’s manual would hint at such. Within ‘Chinese Boxing’, attributes, feats, or skills defining one fighter over another became definitive styles of their own right due to events of the time”.
(The Qi Ji Guang he’s referring to is the Ming dynasty general who fought off Japanese pirates and because a hero to the people. He wrote a famous manual which documented the martial arts of the time. The techniques in the manual seem to crop up in all sorts of Ching dynasty martial arts.)
You can learn more about the the tumultuous events of the Ching dynasty and the explosion of martial arts styles that happened during it in Randy’s video of his presentation from the 2019 Martial Arts Studies Conference:
Today I heard the exciting news that next year’s 2025 Martial Arts Studies Conference will also be held in Cardiff, Wales. This will be the 10th anniversary of the original 2015 conference, which was held on the 10th-12th June in Cardiff, and will be held on exactly the same dates. It’s almost too perfect. See you there?
The Martial Arts Studies Network has also released a new (and free as always) issue 15 – check it out, it’s full of top-quality articles on martial arts. Oh, and don’t forget, I also recorded a podcast with Randy while we were at the conference – here it is:
“The origin of internal arts” is probably what I’d have called this really interesting podcast with Peter Lorge about the history of internal martial arts, however Kung Fu Genius decided to name it “Chinese Martial Arts History is Mostly FAKE” because, well, it probably generates more clicks, or something. Anyway, Lorge turns over a few sacred cows here, and I also liked what he had to say about BJJ.
Have a listen:
I think Peter makes a great point about all these different ‘internal’ things throughout Chinese history all definitely existing, but all being completely separate and unconnected until the 1920s Guoshu Institute needed to create the category of “internal” to exist in opposition to shaolin and external, so it brought them all together. (The gentleman whose name he forgets when talking about this is obviously Sun Lu Tang.)
I do wonder if instead of looking back for mentions of “internal” throughout Chinese history a look back for the phrase Liu He “six harmonies” would make a better connection between the dots of Chinese martial arts history. While the term “Neijia” may not appear very often pre-1920s, Liu He definitely did. If we’re looking at how we got where we are today, then that’s probably a better bet.
Here’s my latest podcast! Mantis boxing, BJJ, Self Defence and heresy in martial arts with Randy Brown.
Randy Brown is a Mantis Boxing and BJJ black belt coach teaching in the USA. In this podcast we explore how Randy has reworked his Mantis Boxing to explore the grappling potential hidden in its forms and how they can interact with his Brazilian Jiujitsu. We talk about a range of subjects including self defence vs sport, weapons vs barehand and how to turn dead systems into living arts again.
Links:
https://randybrownmantisboxing.com/
It’s really hard to do the 2024 Martial Arts Studies Conference justice in a write up. It’s an intense 3 days of thought-provoking lectures on all aspects of martial arts research that can open up huge vistas of unexplored subjects, ripe with possibilities for further study, or make you reevaluate what you think you already know about subjects you maybe thought were common knowledge. It’s attended by academics and researchers from all over the world and a few ‘civilians’, like myself, who are more populist writers or practitioners.
Maybe I could just recap a few of the things I learned after three days in Cardiff of having my preconceptions about martial subject gently poked, enlightened and challenged.
Firstly, I’m now much more informed on the subject of trauma-informed martial arts practice thanks to the excellent work of Georgia Verry who runs the Conscious Combat Club project and podcast who, as well as delivering a paper, ran a workshop on trauma-informed kickboxing. There’s also Dr Alex Channon and his work with the Love Fighting Hate Violence project on the same subject. I now have a new appreciation of the brilliance of 80s martial arts hero Cynthia Rothrock thanks to a paper delivered by Prof Meaghan Morris of the University of Sydney, and I have new ways to think about questions that used to fox me, like “why do you still do martial arts?”, thanks to a thought-provoking paper delivered by Wayne Wong. Daniel Mroz delivered new perspectives on martial arts history and Adam Frank gave me new ideas on how to think about qi. Scott MacMillan gave me some ideas about why Brazilian Jiujitsu answers life’s existential questions. And Tran Khải Hoài gave me insights into how Communist revolutionary Ho Chi Min may have influenced Taijiquan practice in ways we haven’t thought about. Yes, really!
But that’s just scratching the surface. The full schedule is here. I didn’t get to listen to all the talks as they were usually happening in parallel, so you had to choose which one to go to. However, I’m hoping they were all recorded and all appear on the martial arts studies YouTube channel soon so I can pick up the ones I missed.
But really it’s the meeting of such a great bunch of people and the social elements that really make the event special. From an impromptu push hands session opposite the Millennium Stadium with Ian Sinclair from Canada to little demonstrations of martial technique here and there in pubs and restaurants in the evening (thanks Randy Brown!), it’s an invaluable opportunity to meet with really experienced practitioners of martial arts from all over the world. I got to talk at length with practitioners about Okinawan Karate, French Boxing Savate, Vietnamese martial arts, Capoeira, Mantis Boxing, Taijiquan, Ninjitsu, Aikido, Brazilian Jiujitsu, MMA and probably many more that I’ve forgotten, and regardless of the martial art, the positive conference vibe remained strong.
And let’s not forget the brilliant Capoeira demonstration that sought to teach us the difference between the Regional and Angola styles.
I didn’t want the conference to end, it was great to meet old friends and make new ones, and as one participant said “end of the MAS Conference Blues are a real thing”.
I’ve made lots of contacts so hopefully there will be more new faces appearing on my podcast in the weeks and months to come. Thanks to Paul Bowman for doing a great job organising it. Here’s to the next one.
I really enjoyed the latest Martial Arts Studies podcast by Paul Bowman on Portable practices – Yoga and Tai Chi. (That’s not Paul Bowman in the picture, but I thought it illustrated the point nicely – Yoga is so portable, you can do it in space!
A usual for the Martial Arts Studies crew, the talk is about a lot more than just one idea, particularly interesting here for me was the nature of something being authentic. So many times now you see the labels “authentic”, “orthodox” and “traditional” added on to Taijiquan, and I think it’s always wise to be wary of these things. The reality is that what we think of as “traditional” are often modern recreations or what people thought people where doing a hundred years ago, but have been vastly influenced by modern practices.
This one is on video too:
So, I’m going to the Martial Arts Studies Conference, June 4-6, 2024! It’s in Cardiff and there’s a video explaining exactly where:
My friend, Professor Paul Bowman, waffles on in that video about how to find a building that’s simply opposite the train station…. but I think all the vital info is in there on its price and location, except what the conference contains. I suppose that’s because the list of speakers is still being finalised, but I can tell you from my last visit to one of these that they are really interesting and the range of topics is always challenging, thought provoking and fascinating, and the speakers are absorbing and entertaining to the max. Last time I went I had such a good time, and met a lot of new faces, many of which are still friends to this day.
Are you going? If you are and you want to meet up then let me know. I’m available for Tai Chi push hands, BJJ rolling (in a gi please! There’s a possible open mat situation at a BJJ academy next door), weddings, funerals and evening festivities involving alcohol (hey, it’s my birthday at the same time!), just hit me up.
Paul and I, philosophising in his philosophers’ garden about the
intricacies of the guard.
I’ve been meaning to read the story of Matthew Polly’s time spent training at the famous Shaolin monastery for years, but I finally got around to it recently thanks to my Audible.co.uk subscription*. And what a great read it is! I’m sure we can all identify with the teenage Polly, unsure of himself and his place in the world, who falls under the spell of Kung Fu and decides to dedicate his life to the pursuit of it as some kind of escapism from the pressures and fakeness of the modern world. To Polly, Kung Fu represented something sublime, pure and otherworldly that actually meant something. But unlike most of us, he did more than just dream about it, he actually went to Shaolin and lived there for almost a year, at a time when there was no Internet, no easy way to get there and China had only recently opened up to foreigners, so most Chinese people had never even seen a Laowai in the flesh before.
Polly’s story could best be summed up as a sequence of misadventures punctuated by moments of sublime martial arts inspiration. He manages to get into all sorts of scrapes involving accidentally offending senior party officials, being entered into a tournament against a San Da champion and hilarious misadventures with the opposite sex. Part Bill Bryson-style travelogue, and part kung fu geek-out, this is a rewarding, even emotional, look into what the Shaolin monks were really like in the 1990s, just as their international fame as stage performers was starting to spread and take over from the mystical image everybody had of them from the Kung Fu TV show. (Interestingly, at one point Polly watches the Kung Fu TV show with the monks who laughed their heads off at the idea of burning a dragon and tiger into your arms by lifting a hot anvil and dropping it into the snow – “why would you do that???”)
What you really get from this book is a sense of what the Shaolin monks are really like back then, and how much more human, relatable and down to earth they are compared to the lofty ideas we all have of them. It answers all the big questions like, how good are they at actually fighting, how seriously they take the “monk” side of their lives and how they train iron first, arm, head and even iron crotch.
The little snatches of Chinese you pick up by reading the book are also a hidden bonus and bring the characters to life marvellously. By the end of the book you feel like they are your friends and you know them just as well as Polly did. Anybody who likes this blog would love this book. Recommended.
N.B. The cover with a monk holding a Burger King bag is representative of the idea of American values seeping into China, but a little misleading as there were no Burger Kings in China then, and certainly nothing like that in the rural backwater of the Shaolin village.
*Like a number of other books, American Shaolin is included in the cost of an Audible subscription, so if you are a subscriber you get it free.
I think this post is perhaps a little half formed, but I want to get on to writing up my last lesson with Bear, so I’m going to put it out as is. Let the pieces fall where they may…
An interesting new video has been released by Will (a recent guest on my Tai Chi Notebook podcast) about his recent visit to Taiwan where he got to talk to various Taiwanese martial arts masters. It’s the start of a series and it looks like it’s going to be great – Will gets to walk down the smokey back alleys of Taiwan to find the martial artists and martial arts schools in Taiwan you wish you could. What’s not to like? Watch it here:
The blurb reads: “In the first episode, I meet up with my friend John Eusebio @longfistmantis to visit the bookstore of Liu Kang Yi. Mr Liu’s bookstore, Wuxue Shuguan has a huge collection of martial arts books, in both Chinese and English, and he has also spent decades collecting old and rare manuscripts. In this video he shares his insights on the development of martial arts from a military combat art, to an integrated system of both combat and health practice, as we see it today. He also shows us a copy of the Bubishi, the foundational manual of Okinawan Karate.”
Mr Liu talks about internal training, and how it relates to strengthening the tendons and fascia of the body, so that it can toughen and that can lead to more strength “qi” in the body. This all seems fairly accurate to me. (There’s discussion to be had about whether these methods were always a part of Chinese marital arts, or added in later from a different tradition, but that’s by the by). Then he talks about the 3 phases of development of Chinese martial arts, which is the part I wanted to pick up on.
To paraphrase, he says, the first is only martial training and not cultivating: it’s pure combat. No focus on health. This is the military period. The second is once it entered the civilian population. They train both combat and cultivate health, but separately, developing things like Yijinjing and Baduanjing. The third evolution was to combine combat and health, to bring both aspects together. Taijiquan is a good example of this.
Now, this is not a bad way of looking at the evolution of Chinese martial arts, but I think it’s a bit reductive, and crucially, it misses out a lot of other influences.
It’s a view that is not dissimilar to Peter Lorge’s in the book Chinese Martial Arts: From Antiquity to the Twenty-First Century which is that marital arts were all originally military arts and over time were simply dispersed from the army into civilian life.
Lorge’s position is laid out clearly in the introduction to his book starts with this:

I actually really enjoyed Peter’s lecture about the history of Chinese martial arts at the Martial Arts Studies conference 2017, but it seems that both Mr Lorge and Mr Liu both view Chinese martial arts as a kind of offshoot of military training, and nothing more, and in both cases the subject doesn’t even seem to be up for debate, it’s just presented as self obvious. The parallel between both of them is that they are relying only on written sources as their research into the matter. In fact, a lot of the cultural traditions of ‘common folk’ were not recorded, since writing belonged to the upper classes.
Now, I’ll admit, there can be no doubt that the intermingling of civilian and military life had a massive influence on martial arts practiced by people in villages, particularly after the Ming Dynasty army was disbanded and returned to civilian life after its defeat by the invading Manchu’s, who seized control of Beijing in 1644. Xing Yi in particular is one of the martial arts that traces its origins to that event, to military methods kept alive by ex soldiers who were now civilians who had had their weapons taken away. A review of Xing Yi’s existing methods and techniques today reveals a clear bias towards methods that work with a spear, which would have been the dominant weapon in the military for soldiers, and also a concern for facing an attacker who is in front of you, not to the side, which is another feature of military arts. However, most other Chinese marital arts are more biased towards barehand actions than weapons, contain sometimes elaborate sequences that would appear to be more at home on a stage than in a street fight, or involve making specific hand gestures or actions that hint at a ritual quality, that it’s clear, to me at least, that something more is going on here. Rather than just military methods being translated into personal self-protection methods, we are seeing other influences.
In China, there is a long history of martial arts being used in religious ritual, festival culture, spirit possession, street entertainment, Xiqu (Chinese theatre) and Wuxia (which literally means “martial heroes”, a genre of Chinese fiction concerning the adventures of martial artists in ancient China). I think those traditions have as much influence on the martial arts passed down to us today as the military does, and in a lot of cases, more. But, if you mention this to proponents of the “pure pugilism” brand of martial artist, they usually try and explain to you that all these things came out of marital arts. i.e. martial arts came first, and the dance/performance/theatre/ritual, etc came second. In fact, Lorge argues exactly this at 43.00 minutes in his lecture (which I still enjoyed!), despite cataloging wrestling going back centuries as pure entertainment for the Royal Court. This attempt to explain away the obvious flaw reminds me of when people present funky martial applications to form movements that clearly don’t look like marital movements. There are some frankly ridiculous martial application out there from well know teachers who, rather than just admitting that there’s no real martial application of this move that makes any sense, come up with something that just looks silly.
I’ve talked to a lot of martial artists on my podcast (20 episodes so far!) and I quite often broach this subject to see what kind of reaction I get, and I’ve found that the martial artists who live in Asia, or have lived there for some time, tend to have no problem with the idea that Chinese martial arts is a broad church of methods derived from various traditions. It tends to be the people outside of that culture who have a problem with what they’re learning not being a super-deadly killing art created for one purpose only – to be the best fighter! I suppose it’s because so many of these cultural traditions are still alive and well in Asia today that it’s hard to deny their existence. Just look around you. Martial arts training halls tend to have shrines in them where incense is burned as part of a religious ritual. Or the martial arts school participates in local religious festivals by enacting Lion and Dragon Dance routines, or giving a demonstration of martial arts. Or there is a semi-religious ceremony involved in becoming an indoor disciple, etc.
I think two things are going on here. First there’s a reaction against the modern Chinese trend of turning marital arts into a gymnastic demonstrations instead of fighting arts, and secondly there’s a reaction against the modern trend for making Chinese martial arts appear as spiritual and mystical in the same way Yoga is.
As Charles Holcomb wrote in 1990 , “Everywhere in China the martial arts either present themselves in the guise of simple exercises or are shrouded in arcane religious mysteries. Western enthusiasts often feel impelled to strip away these religious trappings and construct a version of the martial arts that is neither simple gymnastics nor religion, but emphasizes true hand-to-hand combat skills. The question remains, is this an authentic understanding of the martial arts?” [1]
I think that process of trying to present the martial arts as true hand-to-hand combat skills is very much alive and well today, I mean, its probably what most people are looking for when they start Kung Fu. I certainly was. But I think it’s also something of a reaction to the introduction of Chinese martial arts to the West, which came off the back of the Kung Fu TV series (which presented martial arts as mystical from Shaolin monks) and followed off the back of mystics like Alan Watts who presented a very counter culture sort of take on Eastern religion.
While there’s nothing wrong with that, my feeling is that it misses out on the wider, and weirder, historical context of the arts we practice today. They’re a rich blend of various traditions, and we should treat them as such.
[1] Theater of combat: A critical look at the Chinese martial arts by Charles Holcombe, Historian. Vol. 52 No. 3 May.1990. Pp. 411-431 Copyright by Michigan State University Press
[2] Photo by Kevin Jackson on Unsplash
Let me just pop up in your feed to recommend you give this video by Paul Bowman a watch – it’s about 20 minutes long, then questions after, but the main part of it is a nice little summary of what happened with things like Tai Chi, Qigong and Yoga over the lockdown period in the pandemic and how the marketing of these things subtly changed. I keep getting adverts for the same sort of Qigong classes in my social media feeds too, so it’s interesting to speculate on why this is happening. Worth a watch!
The Tai Chi Notebook 