The old master and the young apprentice

’twas ever thus

The Karate Kid – master and apprentice.

I love this clip of Master Helio Gracie teaching a private lessons, and it follows on nicely from my previous post about martial arts as theatre.

Here we have Master Helio Gracie, a thousanth degree red belt, probably in his 80’s, teaching a private lesson to a fresh new white belt kid. (The pupil shown here later went on to become a world champion in his own right.)

It’s a dynamic as old as time – the old master and the young apprentice. The whole thing is a performance of sorts, and they both play their roles perfectly – the wise, generous old man knows all the tricks, and teaches the young, enthusiastic beginner who makes all the stupid mistakes, time after time. And again, it’s being filmed, so it’s impossible to ignore the fact they both know the camera is there and they have their roles to play.

Enjoy the show.

Martial arts as theatre, theatre as martial arts – meeting Scott P. Phillips

A new theory on the origins of Tai Chi

pulteney-bridge-bath

One of the benefits of posting on the Rum Soaked Fist internal martial arts discussion forum for so long now, and also working in the beautiful city of Bath, is that I’ve met up with various US Chinese internal martial artists on their travels through this fair isle. Bath is lovely and deservedly on the tourist trail for travellers from across the pond. They come to Bath and we meet up and talk through our favourite subject – martial arts – usually over lunch, then potter off to a local park to exchange techniques. It works out perfectly because they get to see some touristy culture as well as geek-out about their favourite subject – martial arts – with me. I’ve also been across to the US on a few occasions too, and managed to fit in meet ups with various people I’ve known from RSF. Meetups are usually fun and interesting because people always have different perspectives from my own, and I like that. I enjoy seeing the world from a different point of view. How else are you going to expand your horizons if you don’t meet new people?

Last year I met up with the notable Tai Chi practitioner Scott Meredith, or “Tabby Cat” as he’s known on his semi-famous Tai Chi/Astral Animal blog. We had a great time. Scott’s forte is fixed-step push hands from the Cheng Man Ching lineage via his teacher Ben Lo. Scott showed me some of his method and I shared a bit of my XingYi in return. He mentions meeting me in a post here. Scott is a great guy and very skilled at his style of push hands, and I’d really recommend hooking up with him if you get the chance. This week I met up with another Scott, who’s also a big personality on the Tai Chi scene – namely Scott P. Phillips of North Star Martial Arts in Boulder, Colorado. Scott was over here in the UK for the first ever Martial Arts Studies conference at Cardiff University, run by my good friend and erstwhile martial arts student Dr. Paul Bowman. Scott has practiced many different martial arts, including Chen style Tai Chi and XinYi Liu He Quan with George Xu (I really liked the look of his Xin Yi)and has recently become involved in teaching seminars with the Li Shi organisation on Taoist movement.

Scott Phillips performing Ba Ga Zhang.

Scott Phillips performing Ba Ga Zhang.

My experience with martial artists is that each person has their ‘thing’ – whatever that may be – that is their individual take on the whole martial arts shaboodle; its point. Why you should practice it. Or a particular method. With Scott I’d say that thing is ‘martial arts as theatre’. He’s theatrical in nature, and boy, does he love to perform! Over a local stout (which turned out to be delicious, despite the waitress describing it as ‘like Guinness, but not as good’) we discussed many martial subject – too many in fact – and while I can’t say that all of the mud he flung at my wall stuck (he blasted me with probably two decades worth of research material into martial arts, theatre and traditional dance over the course of a single hour!) the one idea of his that really struck home for me was the under-appreciated role of traditional Chinese theatre and folk religion ritual in forming today’s martial arts. Scott’s argument is that Chinese Opera needs much more credit for its role in creating and shaping Chinese martial arts styles than we give it. Much more. For an example of what he’s talking about watch this old video he made on the role of established characters in Chinese Opera, and their relation to the typical warm ups you find in a Tai Chi or Kung Fu class:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gyms4lomW50

But his theory goes much deeper than this, way beyond mere warm-ups and further down the rabbit hole. You really need to see him jump up out of his seat and perform his guided walkthrough of the opening of the Chen Tai Chi form to ‘grok’ what he’s talking about. With spunk and vigour he relates each posture to a part of the story of Chang Seng Feng (Zhang Sanfeng), the legendary founder of Tai Chi. He’ll show you how some of the hand positions from Tai Chi have well-established operatic meanings – for example, the hands with the wrists crossed – a position found near the start of the Chen form – means “awaking from a dream”. His theory is that the Tai Chi form tells the story of Chang Seng Feng, and as you move through it you are performing the ritual of his canonisation. The Chen form (and hence, its derivatives like Yang, Sun and Wu) therefore is a canonisation ritual immortalised in a set of martial arts movements. Let’s take Crane Spreads Wings as an example. As the story of the form unfolds Chang Seng Feng journeys to the capital, and sees a fight between a snake and a crane on the way, which inspires him to create Tai Chi Chuan. In the form, this is the point where you do White Crane Spreads Wings, and so on and on it goes, with each posture representing another part in the story.

Zhan Sanfeng, shown in a posture that’s rather similar to Buddah’s Warrior Attendant Pounds Mortar from the Chen Tai Chi form.

This theory explains the long established, yet sometimes baffling, connection between Tai Chi and Chang Seng Feng. It sounds ridiculous, but when you see him perform it (and I really mean to use the word “perform” here, with facial gestures, and dramatic pauses to boot), it’s a strangely compelling argument. Or maybe it was the stout talking, but I don’t think so – there’s definitely something to the unappreciated role of theatre and ritual in all martial arts.

Take Tai Chi Chuan, for example. People often need to be told that it’s a martial art, because it doesn’t look like one. How did we get to this place where we have a martial art that doesn’t even look like a martial art? People always point to the more fighty and vigorous Chen style (there are fast punches and kicks that make it look like a proper martial art) compared to slow, graceful pace of Yang style, yet it’s pretty obvious from watching the opening of the form that most of the movements are floaty and obscure and don’t even look martial in nature at all. Take postures like Buddha’s Warrior Attendant Pounds Mortar, where you stamp your foot and strike your own palm with your fist, then make a circular, rotational motion with the hands and belly as an example. The stamp looks martial, and makes a nice noise, but what are you doing? As a martial arts technique it looks utterly unpractical. Sure I’ve seen people demonstrate a supposed martial application for the movement, but it never looks convincing. If your aim is to learn to fight, then there must be a quicker way than this… But, what if the move is really just the acting out of part of a ritual – the metaphorical mixing of two elements in a mortar and pestle? That explanation suddenly sounds a lot more feasible than this being a deadly martial arts technique!

Even the traditional start to all Tai Chi forms – the raising and lowering of the hands had a meaning related to theatre – it signalled the start of a performance in Chinese Opera.

The idea that all Chinese martial arts are based, in part at least, on theatre and ritual, also opens up new explanations for why we do things the way we do them. For example, why do we practice long solo forms, unless they are designed to be seen and performed? Why have (even secretive) Chinese martial artists always done public demonstrations of their skills? What’s all that breaking of boards and bricks really about? Why are there so many videos of ‘Chi tricks’ out there showing Tai Chi masters moving their students using nothing but the power of their Chi? Perhaps, we’re all just performers, who have forgotten we’re part of a very,very old play? What if it’s all just a variation of a magic trick? You’re not supposed to get upset that all these chi masters are not teaching real-world self defence – it’s just a magic trick after all, and you’re supposed to just enjoy it as theatre, and nothing more. And everybody knows, you’re not supposed to ask the magician how he does it, as that would spoil the magic!

It’s a fascinating idea, and an awakening from a dream, of sorts.

As I said, you need to see and hear Scott explain things himself to really do his theories justice. At best I’m probably misrepresenting them horrendously, but all I’ve got to go on are my memories from one meeting, slightly clouded by excellent stout. Scott tells me that a professionally made video of his guided Chen Tai Chi walkthrough (complete with Chinese subtitles) is on the way. Plus, Three Pines Press is expected to publish an extended academic essay about his theory with pictures in December, in a book called Daoism and the Military.

Look out for both. And do get out there and meet people – you’ll always learn something.

The best way to stay on a sinking ship

Alignment matters, but not that much

We talk a lot about alignment in Tai Chi, but often this is done by looking at a static posture. The hip is aligned with the shoulder here, the elbow aligns with the knee here, etc… We do this because it’s easier to do it this way, but we should never forget that alignment is something that happens as you move.

Biomechanist Katy Bowman discusses this often ignored movement aspect of alignment in the first episode of the Katy Says podcast.

Give it a listen. I particularly like the analogy that ergonomics is the best way to stay on a sinking ship.

Tai Chi lacks ground fighting

It’s true – it does

A recent Internet clip https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fs_kdGe8Ljc showed what was supposed to be a random attack on a subway somewhere that looks a lot like China or Japan. Two men get onto the subway, involved in some sort of disagreement, one pushes on the shoulder of the other who applies a swift wrist lock, throwing him to the floor, then acts like he’s about to help the attacker up, then the clips ends.

Firstly, it may or may not be a real clip. There’s something about the whole confrontation, and the technique used that looks a bit staged. The technique is too clean, the attacker looks like he’s acting, etc. It could all be being played out for the camera, to make it look real, or not.

Either way, there’s something you can learn from this – mainly that the defender has no idea what to do with a person on the floor that he’s just put there. Standing back to let them get up is a really bad idea. Think about it – you’ve just hurt them, humiliated them by throwing them on the floor and now you’re going to let them get up? Odds are that you’re really going to be in trouble now, because they’re really mad.

It’s a tactical error to let them get up, but one that probably happens because the defender is afraid of going to the ground. 6 months work in some sort of grappling art would sort this right out. I’d say restrain the person on the floor until you can safely get away, or they have stopped being a threat, or law enforcement arrives. Anything else is a big risk.

But why not just kick them in the head, you might ask? Well, in a court of law I think you might end up in trouble for doing that. Laws vary between countries, but I think it’s safe to say that your level of response has to be appropriate to the level of aggression.

So, yes, it’s probably a good idea to incorporate what to do to a downed opponent into your martial art studies.

Redefine your idea of exercise

Katy says

I hadn’t been aware of Katy Bowman, and her blog Katy Says, until I happened across this episode of the Joe Rogan Experience podcast:

It’s about how we aren’t designed to live the way we live in the modern world, and how that should change your approach to exercise. It starts getting interesting at 17 minutes, and again at 55 when she talks about the importance of walking more.

There are some great insights here, particularly the idea that:

1. We put our eyes into a cast by not looking at things far away often enough.

2. Everything we walk on is flat – this is really unnatural and we should have more regular access to uneven terrain.

3. Sitting down for long periods is very bad for you

4. Go barefoot – you get more aware of your feet because you have to protect them, plus your toes get to move sideways, which rarely happens in shoes.

5. You need to walk more than you do.

There’s a lot more here – it’s well worth a listen.

Using your opponent’s force against them

A neat twist on an old idea…

From the Treaste on Tai Chi Chuan 

“When the opponent is hard and I am soft,
it is called tsou [yielding].”

The idea of yielding to overcome is the main combat strategy of Tai Chi Chuan, but there are various ways of thinking about this idea. It’s another way of saying to use your opponent’s strength against them. Recently I found another way of thinking about this that you might find useful.

From Buckling the Crippler 

“In the martial arts, there is often talk of taking the opponent’s strength and using it against him, but normally this is illustrated in books and films with a woman performing a judo throw on a male aggressor. But I contend that there is no better example of using and opponent’s strength against him than drawing him onto your blows and having him double the force for you.”

The big problem with Chinese Marital Arts

hands-touching

This post is something of a follow up to my previous sot on The Delusion of Grace Under Pressure. I’m aware I’m starting to ‘rag’ on Chinese Martial Arts, and don’t want this blog to turn into a negative blog about CMA, since there is much (beyond fighting and including fighting) to be gained by the study of CMA. But the practices are also hobbled by many cultural and out dated modes of training that badly need to be updated, yet are often not due to respect for the ancients, or more likely, the lack of any real need to update them.

If we were living in a war-torn, post apocalyptic future (actually, something like the war-torn Hebei province of old China, in which many of these Chinese martial arts systems first developed) then there would be no debate about this – methods that ‘worked’ would rise to the top naturally and things with no practical value would be abandoned without a second thought. But we do not live in these times, thank goodness, so we are left in a world where we’re all free to carry on doing what we want with no real repercussions. Following tradition, regardless of its application to today’s realities.

Anyway, I’m waffling. The point of this post is about this obsession the Chinese Martial Arts have with starting all engagements from a crossed hands position. Whether its the sticky hands of Wing Chun, the push hands of Tai Chi or the Rou Shou of Bagua (the list goes on) the majority of ‘sparring’ practice is done from a position where you are already touching your opponent.

You can get very skilled in this middle range, and develop an impressive ability to manipulate an opponent. The mistake is assuming that your ability here reflects your ability to fight. In the fight the reality is that you spend hardly any time at this range – you’re either all out, or all in.

This is a Tai Chi blog, so lets use Tai Chi as an example. In push hands we learn to listen and yield to the opponent’s force through the well known push hands exercise. It’s this aspect which is the key to the application of the art in combat. Beginning students are choppy and rough with their pushing and yielding energy, and easily controlled. They lack the flow, balance and smoothness in deflecting incoming pressure that a more experienced Tai Chi exponent can conjure up with ease, often effortlessly deflecting an attacking push to the side without losing the trademark sickly Tai Chi smile on their face.

Yet there is a world of difference between this more civilised practice and the realities of an opponent who is really trying to take your head off.

I think this is the biggest problem with all the Chinese Martial Arts, and the root of their lack of success in ring sports. So much time is spent with doing stuff from hand and arm contact and neglecting the ranges where most of the time is spent in the fight. In actual fights, or free sparring with resistance, it’s very, very hard to get contact with the forearms or hands when shit is going down. It’s even harder to keep somebody there. Why keep training for this almost impossible situation?

Now, I just know somebody is going to chime in with ‘Of course, we train from not touching too, but contact is the starting point for beginners’ – but really, how come 99% of all videos showing CMA applications start from crossing hands?

Western boxing doesn’t start there with its beginners, and it’s got a pretty damn good reputation for teaching people to fight very well with their hands. In fact, it’s the ultimate art for fisticuffs, because that’s all it specialises in (yes, I know ‘old school’ boxing was more like all out brawling with throws and elbows, etc, but I’m talking about ‘modern’ boxing here).

Seriously, I think most CMA has it backwards – doing stuff from contact should be a considered a high level strategy for the very advanced practitioner, not the starting point for the beginner.

I’m not proposing we abandon CMA in favour of boxing, but at least start to practice applications and sparring from ‘not touching’ as the norm, not the exception.

Elementary school

A field of silk pyjamas

Here’s an interesting quote I read recently:

“Chinese Martial Arts people are looking for 100% perfection, but staying in elementary school all along.” – John Wang

You might expect me to defend Tai Chi Chuan against such a stinging attack, but I actually think the author has a point, and something needs to be done about it.

In Tai Chi Chuan we have the form, which is typically learnt first, then you move onto push hands, possibly a year after starting your training. At this point your form is by no means “finished” – you’ve just started refining it really. Some styles have neikung exercises to learn and then there’s weapons forms, and possibly more hand forms. It’s a big old chunk of learning just getting to the end of the forms in most styles, and remember, if you want to do things traditionally and learn the proper long form, it can take up to half an hour to perform it once!

To reach any kind of standard in Tai Chi Chuan you really need to practice the form every day. It’s a bit like swimming upstream. If you stop paddling the current just takes you back downstream. It requires an awful lot of time to progress, especially when compared to other martial arts. Worse, you risk never actually moving on to learning how to apply your martial arts because you’ve got so much to do just maintaining a standard in all your forms! It’s very easy to slip into the habit of staying in ‘elmentary school’ all your life.

Compare this to somebody learning MMA, Judo or Jiu Jitsu. There are very few (if any) forms, you start with techniques on a partner straight away from day one.

I think the point is to be honest about what you’re training, the level of intensity you’re working at and have a realistic view of what you’re hoping to achieve from it all. Don’t fall into the trap of thinking that because you can unbalance people in push hands you can ‘fight’. if you want to be able to hold your own in those sorts of environments then you need to be training in a way that most Tai Chi purists would dismiss as ‘low level’ or ‘external’.