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.

Tai Chi Virtual Volumes

Norman McClaren --- Pas De Deax

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!

Photographic Motion Analysis in Tai Chi and Animation

 Cheng Man Ching Single Whip

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.

The Tai Chi Snob Drops Out

Picture me not in WI

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.

Why We Fight

There is a wonderful scene in the movie, “A Christmas Story,” where Ralphie, having been beleaguered by the yellow-eyed bully of the neighborhood for just too long, finally gets pissed off enough to charge him, knock him down and thrash the bastard into a bloodied disbelief. The fear turning to anger and adrenalin rush are contagious. They evoke a common experience in a movie already  briming with nostalgia. I’ve been there. That was me being chased by a bully, turning suddenly manic and acquiring a supernatural strength and fearlessness.

It must have been about 4th grade at Washington School when Buzzy and Mert and a few others began to delight in pelting the wimpiest of us with rocks. If you were stupid enough to get anywhere near them at recess you might get pushed down and pounded. These were our formative years. Buzzy seemed unbelievably large and Mert, well, she could strike terror into anyone (could scare the pink off a pig). Mert may have weighed three hundred pounds and came from a poor family of equally obese parents and siblings. I once tried to appease her by going to her birthday party but nobody else came. That reminds me of the time I gave a Halloween party and nobody came. But I digress unpardonably.

Anyway, I did a “Ralphie” one recess and jumped on a kid who was taunting me, nearly putting him in the hospital. An onslaught of adrenalin doesn’t give you any common sense. It’s probably scarier than worrying about the Buzzys of the world. So what has this to do with Tai Chi Cuan?

Back in New Mexico, a Tai Chi class mate told the story of his encounter with a would be robber. He was practicing his form in a park one evening and a youth (read punk) accosted him with a knife demanding all his money. Now, you’re not the smartest person in the world to try to rob someone who going through a  martial arts routine. Brian probably could have broken the kid’s arm but he calmly stood still and said, “Gee, sorry, I don’t have any money,” pointing to his backpack. The punk rifled through it and left with a scowl. That was Tai Chi.

I often wonder if I could prevail against an assailant  should the need arise. Of course you could ask him to punch you very very slowly. But could I step aside to avoid the punch, meet it, stick and redirect his energy to send him flying? Or her? Having at least some knowledge of self defense and a smidgen of practice might give one a dangerous overconfidence but at least the fear (fear of fear itself?) can no longer propel you into rage and thus into unwise violence.

Hopefully I will never know. And hopefully, I’ll never meet Mert in a dark alley!

So you want to Teach Tai Chi?

Midwest Tai Chi and Self Defense located in Burlington, Wisconsin, just south west of Milwaukee, is conducting classes which can lead to certification for teaching Sun style Tai Chi Cuan as practiced by Dr. Paul Lam. Ron Pfeiffer, director of Midwest says this:

This is the first event of it's kind for our local program. We will need all the help we can muster to make it successful so if you know of someone who might be interested in this please pass it on. We hold 3 lessons each week teaching the material which is needed to get certified through Dr. Lams organization. Starting lessons now would greatly increase a persons enjoyment and learning at the upcoming workshop.

More information can be had on their workshop at http://dragonkenpo.org/Tai_Chi_Training.html

When Push Comes to Shove

Recently, a Tai Chi classmate posted a phone camera video of some of us doing Push Hands at the Tai Chi Center. Watching myself getting pushed was an valuable experience. I could see the moment I had tensed and offered a structure to my opponent which allowed him to allow me to push myself off balance. Push Hands is one of the three most important Tai Chi practices: the others being the single form and the sword form. It is essentially a game* with specific rules played with the Tai Chi principles of relaxation, rooting and following. Each player has to be willing to push the other, an act contrary to the Tai Chi notion of only reacting to your opponent.  In theory, only 4 ounces of pressure may be used, although in practice, more is applied. With glee
.
*I’ll probably get some contrary email for calling Push Hands a “game” but becomes one all too easily as push comes to shove.

Push hands is not about pushing… it’s about being pushed. (This is a good thing since I am pushed more than I push!) At the Tai Chi Center in Madison it is called “Sensing Hands.” Sensing the energy of your opponent is the basis of Push Hands. Learning to read the other’s intension through slight tensions and changes of speed or direction is an art form.

Yang Chengfu’s treatise on Push Hands mentions sticking, adhering, and following. This not only lets you sense the energy but allows you to redirect it. Too many times during practice the other has waited for an opening and shoved at my center, pushing me off balance. This is about speed and strength, it’s not Tai Chi. All I learn from this is not to let my guard down. If I am fast enough, I can deflect the shove and use the other’s momentum to unbalance them. This is sticking, adhering, and following.

There are two kinds of Push Hands, Fixed Step and Active, or Moving Step (and there are two forms of the moving step--- the Combined Step form where the two people move forward and backward, and the Loop Step form which allows for some overlapping steps; also in the Dalu form, the movement is in all four directions.) Whereas the formal methods of Push Hands are choreographed, the friendly sparing is not.  For me, the moving version makes more sense, being more like the applications of Tai Chi Cuan.  It can bring these applications into a practical arena where many variations can be tried out. Although the fixed stance is good for sensing opponent energy, you will never find yourself in a street fight where nobody will move their feet!

Fu Zhongwen book on Mastering Yang Style Tajiquan, translated and commented by Louis Swaim renders one of the Tai Chi Classics, the Song of Push Hands as follows:

In Ward Off (peng), Roll back (lu), Press (ji), and Push (an), you must be conscientious.
Upper and Lower follow one another; the other has difficulty advancing.
Let him come and strike with great strength.
Lead his movement, using four ounces to deflect a thousand pounds.
Attract him into emptiness, then join, then issue.
Adhere, connect, stick, follow, without letting go or resisting.

For further study I hardily recommend Louis Swaim’s comments on Push Hands (and on Fu Zhongwen’s book through out.) As for my complaints about some partners in Push Hands practice, I have to say that there have been several “others’ who have demonstrated their knowledge and understanding of the form and helped me a great deal toward my own understanding.  I only caution that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, particularly when your are flying through the air!