This won't help you with your form, but it's kind of fun. The video is from a show that the Discovery Channel did on extreme martial arts in, I think, 2003. There are several clips on Youtube but I recommend watching this one from CastTV. Although it will come with pop-ups and ads, the quality is much better than the clips on Youtube which appear to have been filmed off someone's TV screen. The narration is pure hokum, but the computer imaging is worth it.
A while back I blogged about what I called "Virtual Volumes": some still photographs I took with a held-open shutter of me doing the form in the dark wearing "rave gloves" which had flashing LEDs on the tips of the fingers and thumb. I was excited about what I learned about the form by creating this visualization of an external envelope, if you will, tracing the path my fingers made. I made me focus on what that path might look like while I practiced in a well lit room and so I became more aware of the arcs and the relaxed limbs that are so important to correct Tai Chi form.
I stumbled across this video and liked the effect of the streaming path from the tip of the sword coupled with the full movement of the body. Why the skeletal overlay, I don;t know, but as today is Halloween, I suppose it's appropriate. If you do look at the Youtube version(s) you'll see a lot of inane comments (some should probably be censored) about whether the Japanese Katana could beat the Chinese Jian. Both cultures tried to conquer each other back in the day, so it is an interesting question.
The Katana is a saber and good for chopping and slashng while the Jian is a highly sharpened thrusting and piercing weapon, light and easy to manipulate. When the Jian is associated with Tai Chi forms the contest between it and the Katana is pretty much a contest between the internal martial arts and the external. As the narration suggests, it is brute force against athletic ability. I have to wish, however, that the video had gone a little further into the Tai Chi aspects of the sword. Fencing isn't just a bunch of dodging around and stabbing. The Tai Chi principle of "sticking" is paramount.
Watch this video of Chen Man Ching's sword class as he fences with a student. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DwFTHa_TtlE&feature=results_main&playnext=1&list=PLA64BD325DB2D825C You can readily see the how he follows the energy of his opponent and redirects it to move her into a vulnerable position. It is very akin to Push Hands. Chen Man Ching moves effortlessly and applies no pressure against his opponent's sword.
William C. C. Chen leading a session in the Long Form
On this spectacular autumn weekend in Madison, Wisconsin, the Tai Chi Center of Madison and resident teacher, Jody Curley, hosted a Tai Chi workshop with Grandmaster William C. C. Chen. I’ve written before about this amazing man. He’s now 78 and moves like a much younger man, due, of course, to 60 years of perfecting his art. He teaches and gives workshops worldwide but also writes and investigates the physical aspects of human existence which he calls “Body Mechanics.” He is always seeking to improve the communication of his ideas to others and is fascinating to listen to during these workshops.
I only attended a few of the sessions but I was rewarded with many insightful observations and demonstrations as he took us through the Short Form or the Sword Form. I’ve been working on my own --- no classes --- for over a year now and I try to apply things I’ve learned from Jody and Master Chen. I try to feel “winding up the heart” and “leading with the fingers” and “waking up.” It takes more discipline to work on your own, but there is a wealth of ideas that comes from a concentrated dose such as this special weekend was.
Grandmaster Chen and Jody Curley
Grandmaster Chen was kind enough to bring copies of a draft of an article he has written entitled, “Fingers is The Work of Art,’ soon to be published in one of the leading Martial Arts magazines. In it, he analyzes and describes in detail the role of the fingers in various physical activities from golf to bowling to boxing and Tai Chi. He separates the fingers into two groups: the thumb, index and middle finger into the “index fingers,” and the ring and pinky fingers into the “pinky fingers.” In fact, at the beginning of our workshop session on the Short Form, he distributed rubber bands to the group, placing them on our hands so that the rubber bands ringed the “index fingers,” making us aware of these two groups.
Nerves of the hand, showing Median and Ulnar groupings
The index finger group is controlled by the Median nerve while the pinky finger group is controlled by the Ulnar nerve. Each set of fingers can be thought of as having separate functions: the index fingers as action fingers and the pinky fingers as pre-action fingers. Now this all may seem pretty complicated, even obtuse, but consider a simple movement in which the hand rotates. The axis of that rotation is along the line of the index fingers. The pinky fingers turn around that axis and the index fingers spin or twist. To further complicate your contemplation of this example, realize that during this simple movement, the big toe presses down and the inner thigh muscles contract, thereby connecting the feet to the hands through the waist (winding up the heart before action, then energizing).
There was a session on applications which focused quite a bit on boxing techniques. We spent a lot of time hitting a pillow held against a pillar and learned how to hold the fist loosely, without clenching the fingers, and to match the power of the punch to the amount of resistance it encountered. One workshop attendee mentioned to me that she had never done any of the push hands or other more “combative’ activities before and hadn’t realized how much fun they were! There is something very invigorating about landing a punch, particularly when you can feel the winding up of the heart, the arching and rotating of the hand and the whole connection to the feet that is involved in the mechanics of a punch.
We also practiced the application of “Brush Knee,” learning how to uproot an opponent who was punching toward our groin. When my partner resisted my attempt to brush aside his arm, I could not move him. Once I learned to use the “waking up” technique, placing my “brushing” hand under his arm and straightening my body from the hips, I could move him easily and he could not resist. So much can be learned by working with another student of the art that it makes me question my lone wolf attitude these days. It is all the more important to seek out and attend these kinds of workshops and to experience the teachings of unique individuals like William Chen. It’s not for nothing that they call him “Grandmaster!”
This weekend my six year old grandson was visiting and I asked him to show me what he was learning in his Saturday Karate class. He waved away the idea of showing me the warm up exercises, went into what I would call a bow stance, and threw some straight forward punches, stepping with each. He then showed me a forehead block and a middle block and a couple of kicks. I have to say I was impressed. He can’t have had much more than two or three lessons and his form, at least to my eyes, looked pretty darn good. Of course he’s a boy genius, but, I thought, he must have a good teacher. He’d tried a Tae Kwan Do class last year and had not had a good experience. In the past I’ve had some doubts about the advisability of young kids learning martial arts. OK, it gives them self-confidence and teaches them discipline and good sportsmanship, and blah, blah, blah. But.
Kids get a steady diet of fighting in movies, TV, comics and video games. Now, the movie, “Kung Fu Panda” is one of my favorites. But I’ve been waiting for one called “Tai Chi Panda” to come out. My grandson has watched me doing the Yang form and from an early age he tried following me. Other grandkids that live across the country have shown us their Tai Chi and Yoga practices during visits. It all makes a great deal of sense when you compare it to my generation’s youth and our schooling in the arts of “gladiator sports” like football, baseball, hockey, and so forth. Exercise is always a good thing. Raising your physical skill levels is always a good thing. But pitting young people against each other in combat and competition only builds insecurity, anger and aggression. Think I’ll get email on this one?
The key to it, it seems to me, is the good teacher. If you’ve seen the classic first version of “The Karate Kid“, you remember the “bad guy” karate teacher that fostered aggression in his students. Of course, in real life, there aren’t any karate teachers that do that. Are there? But it seems there has always been an undercurrent of nastiness in the popular culture (I.e., USA culture) view of the martial arts. Ever since Bruce Lee was Kato in the Green Hornet, the romantic idea of kicking the crap out of somebody in a mysterious Eastern way has appealed to young people. If you were five or six or ten or twelve, which would you rather do, move slowly and gracefully in the park with a bunch of old people or punch and kick and jump and yell, “HEY-YAH”?
To sort of change the subject, I’ve noticed a lot of people getting certified to teach Tai Chi lately and a number of schools offering teaching classes. Do I think that this will eventually lead to high school curriculums in Tai Chi or ESPN coverage of Push Hands competitions? I do not. It could lead to quite a number of not so great teachers who perpetuate not so good form. But that’s the glass half empty speaking. The more the merrier, I say.
Although I’ve been studying Tai Chi for nine or ten years now and I don’t feel confident enough to teach a whole class. In the classes I’ve taken in the past we often would pair off and the more advanced students would work with the newer ones. This forced you to think about your form: having to explain it to someone else and look for things that needed correction made you aware of your own short comings.
This weekend is another W. C. C. Chen workshop, this time in Madison, Wisconsin. I‘ve been working on my own now for maybe a year and I‘ve learned to look at my self critically so as not to get sloppy. However, I think I need a dose of humility and an expert hand at correction. I‘ll attend the Sword Form, Short Form and Applications sessions. As I've said before, the key to it is having a good teacher..
I’m standing with my feet a comfortable distance apart, my arms at my sides. I start at the top of my head to relax my whole body. My head becomes lightened, as if suspended from a thread. I empty my mind oof all thoughts. I rest my tongue gently against the roof of my mouth. I loosen up the muscles of my neck and drop my shoulders, allowing my arms to bend very slightly so my elbows move away from my body. My palms turn inward, wrist and fingers in a gentle curve. My spine is straight but as I breath deeply and slowly I feel my back muscles relax and my energy seems to sink. I bend my knees a little to take the tension out of my legs. All of my energy seems centered just below my navel: I have sunk my Chi to the Dantian! My feet, instead of feeling all the weight of my body have rooted themselves several inches below the floor! I have completed the first movement of Tai Chi Chuan: Preparation.
But am I relaxed? What does it really mean to relax in terms of Tai Chi practice? Why is that first movement, so important?
The English translation of Fu Zhongwen’s book, Mastering Yang Style Taijiquan (essential reading) is by Louis Swaim. In his introduction he talks about translation issues and points out that the terms, song and fang song are usually translated as “relaxed” and “relax.” He says:
Etymologically the term song is based on a character for “long hair that hangs down”--- that is, hair that is loosened and expanded, not “drawn up.” Therefore, “loosened” and “loosen” are more accurate renderings for song and fang song.
Fu Zhongwen, in speaking of the Preparatory Posture, says the “…spirit of vitality (jingshen) should be naturally elevated. The mind should be calm, without a trace of distracting thoughts.” And therein lies another important element of relaxation: emptying the mind. Thinking causes stress and stress increases tension in the muscles. Therefore, it makes sense to empty the mind of daily problems.
Yang Chenfu beginning posture
Standing correctly relaxed at the beginning (or, some say, before the beginning) puts one in the proper state of mind and of body for continuing to be loose during movement: moving, as they say, like a string of pearls. The story goes that Sun Lu Tang went to study the martial art of Xing Yi Quan with the master, Li Kui Yuan. Li taught him only the Standing Posture which he practiced for a whole year. One day as Sun was in the Standing Posture, Li approached him from behind and struck him on his back. Sun was unmoved by the blow and so was allowed to advance in his studies. Sun Lu Tang (originator of Sun Style Taijiquan) wrote about Wu Ji:
Wu Ji is the natural state occurring before one begins to practice martial arts. The mind is without thought; the intent is without motion; the eyes are without focus; the hands and feet are still; the body makes no movement; yin and yang are not yet divided; the clear and the turbid have not yet separated; the qi is united and undifferentiated.
And one cannot discount the importance of placing the tongue against the roof of the mouth. This has a number of benefits. For one, a stressed person tends to grit or grind their teeth. The muscles of the jaws, when tensed in that way can transfer the tension to your whole body and even cause headaches. In addition, when the tongue touches the roof of the mouth it somewhat blocks one from breathing through the mouth and drying it out. In fact, some saliva may be generated in this way which is beneficial to other body functions. In Qigong theory there are two different energy paths which are connected by this placement of the tongue against the roof of the mouth--- but now we’re getting more complicated than I had intended in this simple discussion of relaxing!
One of the Tai Chi Classics, the Tai Chi Chuan Treatise attributed to Wang Chung Yueh in the Ming Dynasty (translated by Master T. T. Liang) says:
T’ai Chi (The Supreme Ultimate) springs from Wu Chi (The Limitless). It is the source of motion and tranquility and the mother of Yin and Yang. In motion they separate, in tranquility they fuse into one.
From this we can understand that relaxing is the path to correct movement of Qi throughout the body and hence essential to the practice of Tai Chi Chuan (The Supreme Ultimate Fist). So relax, Damnit!
Architect Mies van der Rohe once said, “God is in the details.” In talking about Tai Chi we might paraphrase this as “Chi is in the details.” Most Tai Chi classes teach the basic movements, then begin to refine the form by stressing principles, applications and philosophy and working on the details. Focusing on details too early can be distracting, but after achieving an understanding of the movements, how they follow one another, it is essential.
One important principle in Tai Chi is softness. This is practiced by keeping the limbs loose, curved and never fully extended. A crucial detail in which softness is practiced is the position of the hand. Never stiff, never extended, always soft.
Wolfe Lowenthal’s book on Cheng Man-Ch’ing, “Gateway to the Miraculous,” has been fascinating me since I first read it. On the cover is a photo close-up of the Professor’s hand in a gesture he calls, “Beautiful Lady’s Hand.” The hand is open but partially folded, the fingers lightly bent, the wrist loose and curved. It seems dossal, limp, but is actually endowed with potential energy, like a spring or a coiled whip. There is no tension in that hand, yet it is ever ready to strike. Like the “needle wrapped in cotton,” there is hardness hidden in the softness.
Early in my study of Tai Chi I held my hands flat with my thumbs sticking out. One time my teacher grabbed me by one of my thumbs: the pain was excruciating! “See,” he said, “you’re giving your opponent a handle.” What he didn’t know was that a few years before I had a severe fall in which I had partially dislocated both thumbs. I held my thumbs outward to ease the pain in my carpometacarpal joints where osteoarthritis was rapidly developing.
You may have read that Tai Chi is good for arthritis, not as a cure but as a therapy. I believe this is true. Over the years I have concentrated on holding my hands in the “Beautiful Lady’s” position, curving my thumbs and fingers slightly. I do this not only during Tai Chi practice but whenever my hands are at rest or idle. I also do finger and thumb exercises, sort of Tai chi for the fingers. Without movement a joint becomes stiff. It’s the same principle that creates some of the health benefits of Tai Chi.
Hands of the Golden Buddha in meditative position (Dhyana mudra).
The hands are not used to grasp an opponent. It may seem, for example, in Roll Back, that you have grasped each side of your opponent’s arm and you are pulling them around you. Here, however, the hands only guide as the body turns and the opponents momentum propels them forward. In Push Hands, if you grasp your opponent, you are merely increasing their control of you. In effect you have created a fulcrum for your opponent’s leverage.
Yang Chen Fu demonstrating Fair Lady Works the Shuttle
The hands are not used to block. There is no such thing as a block in Tai Chi. There is sticking, following, redirecting, but no blocking. Again, to block you must become rigid and immoveable. The outcome will depend on whose force and mass are greater. This is not Tai Chi. There is a movement called Fair Lady Works the Shuttle (or Jade Lady or Four Corners) which appears to be a series of blocks, one arm held high to guard the forehead and the other pushing outward, chest level. As you can see in this photo of Yang Chen Fu, the raised arm does appear to be a block. However, when seen as a typical “sticking and following” sequence, this interpretation changes considerably.
There is a nice description on line of the Fair Lady movement on Taichido.com (http://www.taichido.com/chi/explore/Cpt3part2.htm) including some videos. The movement can be seen as an upending of the opponent, similar to Ward Off. The author of the Taichido piece concludes with this:
As a concluding curve ball for further contemplation may I urge you investigate 'Fair Lady' as an upending trip. The foot, leading with the heel in the case of an opponent at locations other than the front, is placed behind those of the opponent and the forearm (this arm and 'leading' leg is always the same i.e. right arm/leg left arm/leg) applies 'extended (yang) ward off that becomes the push that applies the trip.
There are two other forms the hands take besides that of the Beautiful Lady: the Fist and the Hook. The fist, used during various punches, as well as Dredge Ocean for the Moon, Double Gusts Penetrate Ears, Advance to the Seven Stars, and so forth, is also formed loosely. The fingers are curved in toward the palm but only so far, as if you were holding a roll of quarters. The thumb is bent across the outside of the fist. The wrist is not curved but is able to twist and guide so that the punch strikes as an extension of the arm, guided in turn by movement of the waist. Hence there is no tension in the fist.
Cheng Man Ching demonstrating Single Whip
The Hook is formed by the right hand during Single Whip (except in Sun Style and Wu/Hao Style where it is a fist). The thumb touches the index and middle fingers and the wrist is bent. Applications of the Single Whip posture are many and variations of the stance and positioning of arms and legs vary from version to version. Examination of the Single Whip should be saved for another time except to point out that in relaxing and opening up the Hook, the hand goes easily into the Beautiful Lady form.
I see the Beautiful Lady’s Hand as a detail that embodies many of the principles of the Tai Chi Chuan form. The advanced beginner (is that an oxymoron?) can benefit from exploiting this idea as they practice, allowing the hands to relax, curve gently and move by following the actions of the arms which in turn follow the actions of the waist. Remember, Chi is in the details.
First a sad note:
Robert W. Smith passed away the evening of July 1st. He was a noted martial art researcher, writer, teacher, and practitioner. He was the author and co-author of 16 books and numerous articles dealing with the fighting arts. His work no doubt touched many martial artists regardless of style. ---Michael DeMarco
Breathe-- we all do it, but probably not to the full advance of our health and well-being. We generally breathe short, shallow, quiet little breaths and when we exercise, we pant and gasp down great gulps. Once you begin to practice Tai chi and/or Qigong, you discover breathing as if you never really knew about it before! In his Body Mechanics of Tai Chi Chuan, William C. C. Chen says of breathing:
Tai Chi Chuan is based on the natural way of breathing: it is slow, gentle and deep.…Initiate the breath with the diaphragm, not the nose…. When the breath is initiated with the nose, only the upper part of the lungs are filled with air; the chest will become tense, causing the body to lose its center of gravity.
He emphasizes that pressure in the lower abdomen causes energy to flow. This is like the saying, “to sink the chi to the ten tien,” although chi is not breath per se. It is only associated with (proper) breathing which in turn, facilitates the flow of chi. But when does this slow, gentle breathing take place during the form? I remember an early Tai Chi class at which one of the students asked, “Do I breathe here?” The instructor answered, “Yes.” He didn’t wish his students to focus so much on the ins and outs, so to speak, of breathing and lose sight of the form. Other teachers I have had have used breathing as a kind of metronome to the rhythm of the form, stressing when to breathe in (such and such direction of movement) or out (such and such other direction of movement).
William C. C. Chen again:
At this time [inhalation] the arms are moving outward or upward. During exhalation, the diaphragm is released, abdominal pressure is decreased and the flow of energy subsides. Now the arms are moving inward or downward.
He distinguishes between the natural breathing of the practice of Tai Chi and the breathing done in fighting or sparing. There is a third state of breathing called “compression.” He says:
That is holding the diaphragm downward while the thigh muscles exert force upward. This pressurization of the abdomen (Ten Tien) supports the spine and serves as a connecting link between the root and the fist. This all happens at a brief moment of impact; there is no time for breathing in or out.
Of course, Tai Chi is practiced for its health benefits, but its origins are as a martial art, with applications for each of the “movements.” So shouldn’t we be concerned with coordinating the direction of our breath (in/out) with the purpose of each posture (strike, parry, redirect, push, etc.)? In a paper entitled, “Tai Chi Breathing,” http://www.everyday-taichi.com/tai-chi-breathing-tips.html, Dr. Paul Lam expounds upon this concern. His explanations seem very logical to me. He says,
The key is the storing and delivering of energy because tai chi emphasizes on internal energy. Every tai chi movement alternates between gathering, storing and then delivering energy….When you open, it's storing energy like someone drawing an arrow in a bow; in closing, the energy is delivering so it's like shooting the arrow….When you're inhaling (storing energy), think of taking in the life energy-oxygen- into your body. When you deliver energy or force, you exhale….Using this logic, you can see in Chen style's punching movements, when you're bringing your hands closer to store up energy, that's an in breath and when you punch out, that's the out breath.
Natural Breathing = Abdominal Breathing = Buddhist Breathing = Post-natal Breathing. This means to breath by pushing out the stomach to make more room in the bottom of the lungs. It is the type of breathing recommended to most for Tai Chi Chuan. Another type of breathing is Reverse Breathing = Taoist Breathing = Pre-birth Breathing. Dai Lu in his book, T’ai Chi Ch’uan & Meditation, explains:
Before birth, the embryo does not need to inhale and exhale, for the breath is circulated through its body from the mother. The oxygen-rich blood comes to it through the umbilical cord and enters its abdomen at the navel….Most people only breath with the throat and lungs, so the prenatal breath hides in the abdomen, never joining the postnatal breath again….[M]editation and T’ai Chi Ch’uan may be said to bring about a union of prenatal and postnatal breathing.
He goes on to say that fetal-breathing, the so-called “breathing without breathing” technique, is an advanced goal of meditation. During a state called the Great Quiescence, there seems to be an absence even of pulse. The mind is used to bring oxygen in through the naval and to send the chi down to the tan tien. In Taoist Yoga a technique called Quick Breathing consists of rapid, short breaths designed to cleanse the body of germs. Short sequences of Quick Breathing can be alternated with longer sessions of slow, deep breathing to bring about a balance.
Robert W. Smith, who, we noted, recently passed away, translated and wrote about the works of Chen Man Ching and others. Doug Chen compiled exerts from these and other sources in an article on Breathing --- The Tai Chi Way (http://www.wuweitaichi.com/articles/Breathing.htm). Here is Robert W. Smith writing about his experience with Professor Cheng Man-ching's breathing:
After practicing and being minutely corrected on my form and push-hands, I asked him about breathing. Professor Cheng Man-ching said: "It should be natural and must not be forced." Then, he placed my right hand on his abdomen (he had a small "pot" there that he continually tried to erode with circular massage), and I felt it expand as he slowly inhaled. Next, he took the index finger of my other hand and placed it under his nose and exhaled. But, try as I might, I felt no exhalation from his nose, though I did feel his belly empty under my right hand. As it struck me that this was utterly impossible, and then I began to think that I felt an extremely light and wire-fine beam of air coming from his nose. I don't know which was the most astounding: the fineness of his exhalation or my utter inability to feel it. Either way, it was a most impressive performance.
Sometimes when I’m practicing the Long Form I concentrate on breathing, coordinating inhaling and exhaling with inward and outward movements. Other times I pay attention to my feet and stance, my “single-weightedness.” Or I may think about my chi and moving it up through the soles of my feet, into my upper thighs and waist. But when I empty my mind of all thought, breathe naturally (without thinking), and move almost trance-like with a softness which conceals hardness, then, and only then, do I begin to get close to the Tai Chi Chuan of my goals.
Below are several excerpts from my readings that I felt should share.
Life begins at seventy. Everything is beautiful! Health is a matter of the utmost importance and all the rest is secondary. Now I must find out how to enjoy excellent health in my whole life and discover the way to immortality.1
Man cannot live without exercise....If one has a space approximately four feet on a side and can spare ten minutes a day, he can practice T'ai-chi without spending a cent 2
If we naively follow our own traditions we may someday find out that we have made yet another mistake---the mistake of not questioning traditions 3
We know it [Qi] exists the same way we know sunlight and wind exist. We cannot capture or grasp these forces in the hand, yet we can experience them. Science does not need to prove their existence in order for us to belief in them. 4
Tai chi is an internal art, which means that you have to use your thinking ability....Using your mind also means allowing your mind to be open. If you're fixed on one idea and close your mind to others, then your mind is like a full cup: it can't take in anything else. On the other hand, an empty mind is like an empty cup, it is ready to take in or absorb new knowledge, and only then will you progress. 5
...it can be said that the external martial arts are based on the energy of movement, whereas the internal martial arts are based on the movement of energy. 6
...practicing [the sword form] leads to experiences of such a depth and fullness that reflections about the sword as a weapon become superficial....Something opens that is universal, that makes it completely unimportant what you have in your hand: a kitchen spoon, a tobacco pipe, a sword. The more that this inner dimension of strengths and energies opens, the more that the "external" retreats. 7
T'ai-chi Ch'uan is the art of concealing hardness within softness, like a needle in cotton. 8
It is not like a cotton ball, rather like a cotton bale: packed tightly with softness. 9
No pain, no pain! 10
...in movement, the sinews are soft and belong to yin; in stillness, the qi is hard and belongs to yang. In this way, softness manifest externally, while hardness is concealed within. Hardness, belonging to qi, internally collects in the bones; softness belongs to the sinews and externally winds around the four limbs. Therefore, when yin reaches its peak, yang is born; when yang reaches its peak, yin is born. Yin never leaves yang and yang never leaves yin. When each reaches its peak, it produces a change, and this is called taiji. 11
Consciously or unconsciously, we all change and adapt, hopefully growing and expanding as we do....Unless an art is stagnant, it must be a living, breathing art that also changes. 12
Everyone possesses ch'i and has possessed it since birth. Ch'i remains with the individual throughout life, dispersing only after death. Thee are two main steps involved in cultivating ch'i within your body: meditation and movement. 13
There are no secrets 14
The gentlest thing in the world
overcomes the hardest thing in the world.
The soft overcomes the hard
The slow overcomes the fast.
There is no greater illusion than fear,
no greater wrong than preparing to defend yourself,
no greater misfortune than having an enemy.
Whoever can see through all fear
will always be safe. 15
1 Ten Theorems For My Daily Principles (#7) from T'ai Chi Ch'uan For Health and Self-Defense by Master T. T. Liang
2 T'ai Chi: The "Supreme Ultimate" by Cheng Man-Ch'ing and Robert W. Smith
3 The Essentials of T'ai Chi by Waysun Lia
4 The Way of Qigong: The Art and Science of Chi by Ken Cohen
5 Strategies for Improving Tai Chi by Dr Paul Lam and Nancy Kaye
6 Warriors of Stillness Vol. 1: Meditative Traditions in the Chinese Martial Arts by Jan Diepersloot
7 Questions and Answers in Classical T'ai Chi Sword by Chiang Tao Chi
8 A Discussion of the Practice of T'ai-chi Ch'uan as dictated by Yang Ch'eng-fu to Chang Hung-k'uei found in Tai Chi Touchstones: Yang Family Secrets by Douglas Wile
9 not the exact quote as I don't remember where I read this, but I like the imagery.
10 favorite saying from Ron Pfeiffer of Midwest Tai Chi and Self Defense
11 New Theory on Taijiquan Movement by Zheng Manqing
12 Yang Style Traditional Long Form T'ai Chi Ch'uan by Gordon Muir
13 The Essence of T'ai-Chi by Waysun Liao
14 Title of book on Chen Man Ch'ing by Wolfe Lowenthal
15 Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu
While practicing the Sword Form in the mirrored room at my health center, I like to listen to music through earphones from my mp3 player. Although I am an advocate of “silent running,” so as to develop natural internal rhythms that match the movements of the form, I find it very helpful to have an auditory aid, especially when first learning. When I do the Yang Long Form, the empty handed one, I prefer a sort of drone--- a non-rhythmic sound, so that the speeds of the various movements can be even and flowing. But with the sword I find a variety of speeds more appropriate to what I suppose the applications of the Sword Form would be: slashing, chopping, slicing, thrusting, momentary pauses, turns and fanes.
I’ve been listening to cuts from an album by Bela Fleck called “Throw Down Your Heart, Tales from the Acoustic Planet, Vol. 3: African Sessions.” The sessions on this album were recorded by Fleck on a trip across Africa as he traced the origins of his chosen instrument, the banjo. In Uganda, Mali, Tanzania and South Africa, he played traditional African songs and jammed with local musicians using ethnic instruments like the thumb piano and xylophone. Included are kora master Toumani Diabate, guitarist D'Gary, vocalists Oumani Sangare and Baba Maal, ngoni player Baekou Kouyate, and djembe player Madou Sanogo. (This info is from comments by Scott Williams on the Amazon.com listing for the album.) There is a DVD documentary of the trip and a trailer for it on you tube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WDCxaQhhL0A.
Besides the musicological insights and virtuosity represented by Fleck and friends on the African album, what interests me is how well it overlays my sense of movement for the Sword Form. They call it “the Chinese Sword Dance,” probably because it looks so graceful and so energetic. The close rhythms and sharp percussive notes of the African music allow for subtle changes in momentum so that, unlike the constant flow of the empty hand form, there is a dynamic range of accelerating or slowing, an opportunity to energize a sweeping action of the arm-plus-sword from the toes up through the thigh muscles. (Actually, this all exists in the empty hand form as well; we just try to minimize the appearance of forcefulness ---to be soft.)
Another element of my sword practice has been the use of the tassel (attached to the pommel.) An improper increase in velocity or angle will definitely wrap the tassel around your wrist. While focusing on the sword in hand you become acutely aware of the location of that tassel. There are two small brass balls attached to my tassel which will clatter against the hilt of the sword in an abrupt maneuver or sudden stop. While it sounds kind of neat, it is another help toward learning how not to use the sword. As someone once told me, when you become a Tai Chi Master you can do it however you want. For now, study and practice ---and study and practice, and study and practice, and….
Many thanks to Amy Eisenberg of the Winged Lion School of Tai Chi in Erie, Pennsylvania, for the link to this poem reading and performance by Allen Ginsberg: Poetry Spot
I spent a little (read too little) time searching the internet for other poets that wrote about Tai Chi but to tell the truth, I was unimpressed by most of what I found. I think the Tai Chi Classics are themselves wonderful poetry that not only serves to define Tai Chi practice but also raise the spirit of the reader. Ginsberg's poem has a bit of tongue in cheek but does (for me) explore the difficulty of performing Tai Chi in a state of meditation. It's like the old joke about the alchemist who said the secret of turning lead into gold was to stir molten lead WITHOUT thinking of the word, "Hippopotamus."
To see the inspiration for these shots look at my blog entry, "Virtual Volumes." I'm slowly learning the technicalities of the process... been using a digital point and shoot for so long now I've forgotten much of the discipline of good (analogue) photography. I blew the whole first role by not checking the shutter speed and the second roll, as you see here, suffers from not having cleaned the lens (see the spots and the centralized glow from reflections inside the lens.) However, I am happy as a clam with these first efforts.
These multi-colored images are made using a pair of "rave gloves" set to cycle through red, green and blue. The gloves have LEDs mounted at the finger tips and thumb tip. I am doing partial sections of Yang style Tai Chi with the camera in a fixed position.
I think the above shows from Raising Hands through Brush Knee and probably a Push. Next time I will keep some records of which movements are in which shots.
In the shot above I have added a single LED to the toe of each shoe. The sequence includes Waving Hands Like Clouds and Repulse Monkey (I think).
The above is Sword Form using a single LED at the tip of the sword.
And here I added a second LED on the pommel. I should add that these show the complete Sword Form.
I have to thank my good buddy, Bill Mego for his help in scanning the negatives. I had no luck at Walgreens getting them to figure out how to print the roll and it's just as well. There will be more to come in the future, so 'til then, Buenos Noches and be careful doing Tai Chi out there in the dark!
Last time I wrote on this blog I alluded to the idea that Taoism is supposed by some to have influenced Buddhism. I was not actually thinking of Chinese Buddhist traditions here, but Indian. I was skeptical that Taoists in the first century BC had traveled to India and pow-wowed with the Buddha or his followers, but I had a strong recollection of having read this somewhere “authoritative.” A careful exploration of my bookshelf did indeed yield a little scholarly treasure: Chinese Thought From Confucius to Mao Tse-Tung, by H. G. Creel, written in 1953 (my paperback copy is from 1960.) H. G. Creel was a Professor of Chinese Literature and Institutions at the University of Chicago and worked for Military Intelligence as an expert on the Far East. In it, Creel often relates that this work or that work may be a forgery or may have been revised by some later Chinese scholar, however, he strives to reflect the nature of the truth behind the influence Chinese thought/philosophy/religion has had on its culture throughout its long history. He says of Taoism and Buddhism:
Taoism and Buddhism were commonly associated in the Chinese mind. Many Taoist terms were used in translating Buddhist scriptures, and many Chinese studied Taoism and Buddhism together. The Buddhist were often quite tolerant of Taoism and sometimes even included Taoist deities in their temples. Taoism… copied Buddhism by establishing temples, monks, nuns, scriptures and doctrines which in many respects are astonishingly similar. The Taoists, however, were not so tolerant of the Buddhists as the Buddhists were of them; perhaps their extensive borrowing from Buddhism left them with a bad conscience. The Taoists said the Lao Tzu had gone to India and taught the Buddha, so that Buddhism was nothing more than an offshoot of Taoism.
I was glad my memory was good enough to pull this out of the cobwebs, as it isn’t my normal reading matter. So problem solved, right? Those naughty Taoists were telling tales again. But questions of Taoist and Buddhist influences on the development of Tai Chi Cuan still were rattling around my brain. A more contemporary scholarly effort is found at http://ccbs.ntu.edu.tw/FULLTEXT/JR-BJ001/93608.htm in the manuscript called The Taoist Influence on Hua-yen Buddhism: A Case of the Sinicization of Buddhism in China, by Kang-nam Oh, Professor of Religious Studies at the University of Regina (May 2000). Hua-yen was one of the earliest schools of Buddhism to be developed in China. The schools reinterpreted Indian Buddhism to fit the Chinese way of thinking and its social order and the paper points out many instances where Taoism, or more properly, Neo-Taoism, had inspired its development. For example, the “Manifold Mysteries” of the Taoists relates to the “Ultimate” truth of the Buddhists. Both share the dual concept of Substance and Function which can be traced to the Tao Te Ching.
Enter Bodhidharma. In the 5th or 6th century, Bodhidharma, who was probably Persian but hailed from Southern India where he was a Buddhist Monk, migrated to Northern China bringing with him the first, or at least the most, influential concepts of Zen Buddhism. He became a patron Saint of the Shaolin Monastery and is attributed with having created the beginnings of Kung Fu there. He is supposed to have sat facing a wall for nine years without speaking. Bodhidharma is said to have been a disciple of the Buddha who later traveled extensively and developed many exercises to strengthen his body. He taught these as part of the discipline of Zen and they most likely merged with existent boxing styles known to the Shaolin monks. However, some historians maintain that the story of Bodhidharma at Shaolin Monastery is based a forged qigong manual written in the 17th century, interestingly, by a Taoist with the pen name of Purple Coagulation Man of the Way. Oh well.
So we have a semi-mythical Taoist deity, Lao Tzu, riding off on his blue water buffalo to instruct Siddhartha Gautama, who would later be the Buddha, in concepts of wu wei, (being and non-being), which would later become Taoism, and a semi-mythical Buddhist Saint from Iran staring at a wall and creating Kung Fu. Not to mention Zhang Sanfeng, who lived to be 600 years old, could fly, and invented Tai Chi on Wudang Mountain. Before we logical, science-based Westerners scoff we would be best to remember that Moses parted the waters, Jesus walked on them and Muhammad traveled to heaven on a winged horse.
And, you might well ask, where does the I Ching come in to all this? After all, it comes to us from the 1st century BCE and embodies the concepts of Yin and Yang and the Trigram diagrams which the Taoists later adopted into their philosophy. Its commentaries may or may not have been written by Confucius, who is said to have advocated the practice of martial arts, but at least not to have invented it. So closes our can of Chinese worms. I’m off to read something I can be sure isn’t fiction. Like the political history of the United States.
I don’t often review movies, and this won’t appear on Netflix, but I was struck and awed by a documentary we saw recently called Mysterious China: Holy Mountain. The is a promo for it on youtube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGwx_XPilIA. The film is part travelogue, part history lesion, part martial arts demonstration and part Busby Berkley. 90 minutes of breathtaking photography at and around Wudang Mountain, also known as Mount TaiHe or Mount XuanYue. Wudang Mountain is a UNESCO World Cultural Heritage site and is considered “Holy” to Taoists. Legend has it that Zhenwu, a Taoist deity, discovered the “Golden Elixir” there which made him immortal. Besides Taoism alchemy, Mount Wudang is the birthplace of Wudang school Kung Fu as popularized in movies like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.
The possibly mythical figure, Zhang Sanfeng (Chang San Feng) is supposed to have created the Wudang style of Taiji Quan. It’s interesting that there is a rivalry between Wudang and Shaolin Monasteries over the invention of Taiji and Kung Fu, but these seem more akin to Taoism than to Buddhism to me. At any rate, Wudang Taiji has an interesting lineage so far as we know it. Here is a video of the Zhang San-Feng 13 postures http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mafTd7h9auo&feature=player_embedded#at=63. It is a beautiful, sweeping form that reminds one of Chen, Yang and Wu all at the same time. The form of Wudang Taiji that we have now was developed by a Hong Kong based master named Cheng Tinhung and is being taught in Great Britain by two of his students, Dan Docherty and Ian Cameron.
Some of this is touched on in the documentary but hard core Taiji enthusiasts may be frustrated by the lack of detail given there. Of course, it a film about the mountain, and covers many of its aspects. Scenes of Taoist artifacts, the temple architecture, the approach to the mountain (walk up the hundreds of feet of stairs, be carried up in a litter, or maybe you could take the cable car) are fascinating.
You get just enough information to make you want to research it further. It was a little disheartening to hear the terms, Kung Fu, Qi Gong and Taiji used interchangeably. And the constant cutting away from performances of various forms was annoying. But staying with it rewards you with a display of a variety of forms: Kung Fu, Taiji, Qi Gong, Sword, Tassel, some Push Hands and what appeared to be Ba Qua but might have been a dance. At one point the narrator suggested that Buddhism was believed by some to have been developed from Taoism. I think I read that somewhere else once. Chinese history is nothing if not reversionary and fraught with multiple mythology. So get the movie from Netflix and enjoy the production. My thoughts were, “I want to live there.”
When I got my extendable practice sword it came with a tassel. My other swords hadn’t. The tassel is traditional and decorative looking, but I immediately put it aside thinking it would just get in the way. Nobody in sword class used a tassel. I had read somewhere that the tassel was useful for practice, so the first warm-enough day (in Wisconsin that means it is above 30) I looped the tassel through the pommel of my Paul Chen sword and took to the backyard. Yes, I did find I had to pay attention so the tassel didn’t wind itself around my hand. No, it didn’t unbalance the sword, but I also didn’t see how to let it “lead the sword” or to keep the flow consistent. Clearly, I need to figure this tassel business out!
Wikipedia wasn’t much help but I got on several sword forums, including Kunfu Magazine’s and one called “Sword Arts Talk.” Mixed in with historical concerns, glib speculation and occasional silliness were some interesting ideas about tassels. First let me give you a link here to a nice youtube video of Jonathan Russell performing T. T. Liang’s version of Yang style sword with long tassel attached. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z573zimpP_s This is a wonderful demonstration of the Long Tassel Sword form and you can see how he uses the tassel as a key element. The theory that the tassel was used to distract the enemy seems valid although I also could subscribe to the notion that it was flung into the opponent’s face and might have contained wires or barbs. At any rate, here are some excerpts from those forums:
The official reason is distraction ...more for aesthetics
poison was someimes used on the blades of the swords and the tassel was used to conceal a small vile tht held antidotes
The tassel could be weighted with brass or lead and used to whip at an opponent, or entangle his weapon. I believe it might also contain small hooks or blades that could cut as well as impact an opponent
they look ridiculous ...unless your wearing them silk pajamas
they're for grip when the handles are covered in blood.
the tassels were weighted to act as a counterbalance for the sword the tassel (by not becoming tangled) ensures that the sword is being used in the correct manner
it's something that should be avoided until a certain level of skill is acquired
Here is a quote from "The Art of Chinese Swordsmanship" by Zhang Yun. "There are two kinds of tassels; changsui which is as long as the body of the jian and duansui which is half the length of the jian. Originally made of rope that connected the jian to the practitioners wrist, the tassels of contemporary jians are always made of beautiful materials. Historically , the jianpao allowed the jian to be thrown outward by the practitioner and then pulled back into his grasp. Today, jianpao are used primarily for show , not combat".
long tassle sword /chang sui jian ... the tassel in this style should be long as sword or longer... first of all is to distract enemy ... this technique is called: "huang" ...the other important technique is called "shuai" ...it is using the tassle to hit the oponent and believe me, it hurts a lot, also the tassel can be thrown to the oponent eyes and distract his view
It is also a training tool. If the sword is flowing smoothly and in correct lines, the tassel won't readily wrap around your arm....it will also flow with the sword.
It's also been postulated that it started out as a lanyard ie a thing you tie around the wrist so you don't lose your sword in battle.
As well as something you can tug on to pull the sword out of your enemy if it gets stuck.
Some practical uses of sword-tassels are as a means of leading the sword and distracting the enemy. The sword, following the tassel in a strike can confuse the opponent.
Besides that, it can be a means of balance when using the sword and can help you depending on the style you are practicing. For the internal styles, when you do horizontal strikes, meaning the sword is parallel to the ground, generating the strikes from your mid-section can encourage the tassel to swing circularly below the sword itself.
the tassel is a training tool. The sword is Yang, and the tassel is Yin. The power of the sword is generated by the Yin. During training, the RED colour of the tassel helps in focusing the intention. In a real fight, the tassel may or may not be there (real fights are ugly and chaotic and never ideal and you may not have all the right equipment at that moment!) but the power is generated the same way even if the tassel is not there.
Friday, March 18, 2011
I’ve mentioned before my old high school science teacher who was fond of saying, “If you can’t explain it, then you don’t know it.” There is a lot about Tai Chi I can’t explain but feel that I know. There are days when it just feels right. And of course, many days when it doesn’t. But too much thinking can be a dangerous thing:
A centipede was happy quite,
Until a toad in fun
To Said, "Pray, which leg comes after which?"
This raised her mind to such a pitch,
She lay distracted in the ditch
Considering how to run.
-- Anonymous
Although there is nothing Chinese about that poem, I first came across it in Alan Watt’s book, The Way of Zen. It seems appropriate to the study of Tai Chi Cuan.
My new toy is a collapsible (extendable) sword. Hmmm, that sounds like the glass half full/empty syndrome. The sword does kind of look like a toy but is pretty well made from hollow stainless steel sections that telescope like a nested Russian doll down to a convenient eight or nine inches. It has solved my self-conscious phobia about carrying my wooden sword in its case into the health center. One guy in the locker room asked me if I had brought my pool cue with me. It’s heavier than my wooden sword but lighter than my steel one and seems just about right for practice. Plus, it’s fun to flick it open like a light saber.
Other toys are ordered. I have a pair of rave gloves, complete with lighted finger tips, in the mail as well as two extra LED lights that can be attached to my shoes (I hope). I keep visualizing my fingers being able to leave a trail of light (visible Chi?) as I practice. It has made me quite conscious of the path my hands follow during the form and this may be bad or good, who knows. Soon I will experiment with time exposures and hopefully have something interesting to post on this blog.
Meanwhile, I’m trying not to be like the centipede and just let it happen. Tai Chi is supposed to be good for meditation if you can empty your mind. These days, that’s pretty difficult.
In 1967, Norman McClaren, a Canadian animator and filmmaker, directed a film called Pas De Deax in which dancers were optically overprinted with progressive frames creating a "virtual volume." This technique had been done in still photography as early as 1882 by E’tienne-Jules Marey using a special camera he developed which recorded successive high-speed photos overlapped on one plate.
Marey Chromophotographs
His images were to influence many 20th century artists including Marcel Duchamp, who produced his famous Nude Descending a Staircase in 1911, and Giacomo Balla who painted Dynamics of a Dog on a Leash in 1912.
Duchamp --- Nude Descending a Staircase
Balla -- Dog on a Leash
The virtual volume created by overlapping stages of movement becomes a unique form illuminating time and space. A more contemporary version of this technique can be found in the use of motion capture suits to record three-dimensional forms in motion for computer games and motion pictures featuring CG characters.
motion capture suit and digital rendering
Motion capture trace of dancer Gretchen Schiller, AMUC project by David Green, Culture Lab, Newcastle University.
Back in the day, when I taught film and animation, I used to show Norman McClaren’s Pas De Deax in class. I always felt it provided an insight into the process of film animation and the understanding of motion as a form that could be visualized. Lately, as I’ve practiced Tai Chi in the mirrored room at the Health Center, I’ve imagined points of light at the tips of my fingers and toes and watched these imaginary virtual volumes drawn in the air. I think of using a light saber for sword practice, darkening the room and opening the shutter on my old Heiland Pentax 35mm camera to record the hidden form inside The Form. Perhaps I will eventually do this. Until I can put together a pair of black gloves laced with LEDS and a room I can plunge into darkness (or perhaps travel back to New Mexico for the solid blackness of that night) I will have to be satisfied with imaginary virtual volumes (if I can be forgiven for the oxymoron).
Picasso --- Light Drawing
After I posted this I googled "LED glove" and lo and behold, they make stuff like that the people use at Raves (not that I even know what that is). I think I have to get a pair!
I read several facebook groups on Tai Chi Cuan and have noticed a recent trend toward analyzing photographs of past Tai Chi masters. This sometimes entails the drawing of lines over the photos to show alignments and to determine weight distribution. I am obsessed as much as the next person with “doing it right” but I have to question the process of ferreting out the “rightness’ of a three (four?) dimensional event using two dimensional tools.
Photography has a history of being used to analyze position and motion that is as old as photography itself. The classic example is Eadweard Muybridge (1830 - 1904) who was an English photographer working in the American West. He is most famous for producing numerous studies of people and animals in motion using a series of cameras to capture successive stages of the body in motion through space.
Muybridge Sequential Photo Panel
In 1981 I wrote a book on animation called The Shoestring Animator, in which I used one of Muybridge’s motion studies, one called “Man Walking at Normal Speed,” as an aid to developing a hand-drawn animated “walk cycle.” It is thought that several early animation artists studied Muybridge to originate their own techniques. I pointed out that Thomas Eakins, a painter contemporary to Muybridge who used photographic studies in his own work, felt Muybridge’s panels were flawed since each successive camera viewed the action from slightly different position. I went on to say that the photos were close enough (for government work).
Animation is not Tai Chi, although there is a relationship in that both involve bodies in space and motion. The facebook posts analyzing Tai Chi reminded me of my own use of photos to create animated films. I often utilized a technique called “rotoscoping” in which live action cinema frames are traced and then rephotographed. To paraphrase one of my fellow filmmakers, Mary Beams, you can learn a lot about the universe by tracing live action. One thing you learn is that motion picture film doesn’t accurately reproduce motion. Here is why.
Because film is a series of still pictures taken one at a time, there is movement in between each exposure that is not recorded. Also, the frame rate of motion picture photography is 24 frames per second allowing a certain amount of blurring of the moving subject. Animators know this and exaggerate key positions of their drawings to make them more “life like.”
I think I blogged previously about the difficulty in using videos to learn Tai Chi. I remarked that the camera angle often hides or distorts some of the action. Since videos are not the best way to study motion, how can it make sense to use a still picture to learn Tai Chi? Photos of Cheng Man Ching and others were not taken as they moved. They were posed. Perhaps they were posed to display an emphasis on weight distribution or alignment at a particular time during the form, but I suspect these illustrations have to be taken as instances of the spirit of the movement and not written-in-concrete icons of the art. Can you photograph Chi? Can you diagram it? I think exploring the examples of the great masters through photographs is rewarding and enlightening but should be approached cautiously. I think of the book, The Da Vinci Code, and how searching for hidden code in the painting of the last supper really distracts from the ascetic enjoyment of a great work of art. I hope we don’t over analyze Tai Chi in the same way.
Well, it’s winter. I live in Wisconsin. I have to drive for an hour to get to class. Need I say more? That’s my excuse for not going to Tai Chi class right now. I’ve probably learned nearly all I can about Sword Form, although there is always more to learn. Practice is always better when you are in a group of like-minded people, but I can do it on my own. Corrections from a good teacher are crucial to advancing in your art, but I give it a lot of thought. Did I say I’d be OK on my own? Well, I go to the Health Center probably five times a week and practice my form(s). I read a lot and watch Youtube videos of the masters. I think. I write. So why shouldn’t I drop out for now?
This is an opportunity to concentrate on MY form. I’ve had four teachers, studied three forms, (Wu, Yang and Sun) and Sword Form and Push Hands. From each teacher I’ve gained some knowledge and insight into a traditional, yet live and changing Martial Art/Health/Philosophy/Art form called Tai Chi Cuan (Taiji Quan). I’ve dealt with the conflict between what I think I know and what I’m being told. I’ve dealt with it by adopting what FEELS right, what MAKES sense, what WORKS. I’m not rejecting the bits and pieces that I don’t absorb. I merely keep them in mind as I go through my form, comparing, contrasting, considering….
After all, the REAL Tai Chi form is unknown. There is a mystique about the origin and evolution of Tai Chi as it came down from probably mythical Taoist monks and was held secretly within a few families and villages. The story goes that Yang Luchan, when called upon to teach Tai Chi to government officials, modified the form to protect its secrets. The Communist Chinese government almost banned Tai Chi but instead decided to promote it as a healthful exercise form, showing the outer world how strong the Chinese people were. And it changed again.
A few masters migrated to the US and Europe. A few Anglos traveled to China and Taiwan. What was a verbal tradition began to be documented. The five family forms became hundreds. Each master changed it a little according to their own interests. How confusing! Yet what a wealth of thought and practice. What a rich cross cultural experience. How easy to become a snob (all forms are equal, but my form is more equal than your form.)
If you are a beginner, find a teacher. Make sure that teacher has some lineage that fixes them firmly within the evolution of REAL Tai Chi Cuan. They can be health oriented or Martial Art oriented or both, as long as they know something about the history and development of the art. Read. Look at videos, but not to the extent that you become overwhelmed with too many choices. Learn the movements, then be willing to work on the details.
And don’t be afraid to drive through the snow storms to get to class.
