By Sissi Liu
Sissi Liu is the Yoga instructor and a Level 5 (Green) student at Wu Dao
Many students of traditional martial arts either adore or despise the study and practice of forms (Tao-Lu in Chinese). There are also those who feel that forms are simply a part of traditional martial arts practice and are therefore resigned to learning them. The rationale for the learning forms is unclear to many. To make the matter worse, it seems that forms have been relegated to the status of a performing art, accompanied by flashy costuming, flimsy weapons, musical accompaniments, with acrobatic moves and sometimes even stage effects to entertain the audience. One is therefore forced to question, “Is there perhaps too much form over substance when it comes to forms training in traditional martial arts?”
To address this question, it is helpful to examine the origin of forms. Chinese martial arts extend greatly in terms of style. Each style was created with an embedded philosophy on gaining the advantage in a fight. Through hands-on practice and real-life battles, discoveries about body mechanics and strategies were made, and specializations were thus formed. Contrast Praying Mantis and Choy Lay Fut Kung Fu, which are both taught at Wu Dao: Praying Mantis exhibits quick strikes and hook grabs, with the intent to turn defense into offense; Choy Lay Fut features aggressive and powerful techniques that are better suited for continuous offensive attacks. Contrast these with Yang Style Tai Chi, which is founded on the idea of redirection of force and energy. Shui-jiao, or throwing, represents yet another ancient branch of Chinese martial arts that may be unfamiliar to most Americans. Expand this further, Chinese martial arts is also comprised of Chin-Na techniques, weapons use, internal styles, and beyond.
Forms most likely became a common way for creators and practitioners of each style to anthologize the essential techniques of their system for the ease of memorization, practice, and documentation. While many Shaolin forms were documented in text, in the absence of literacy, forms, transmitted as an oral tradition, became the means for passing down coveted martial arts knowledge. It was also a method for protecting intellectual property of a particular martial artist or lineage. For example, from Chinese mnemonic rhymes, we get vivid technique names such as "monkey grabs the peaches." These rhymes enabled generations of idea accumulation and refinement to survive through the millennia, carrying with them the wisdom of the teachers who came before us.
The process of learning through forms may therefore seem counter-intuitive. Traditional teaching methods put much of the burden on the student. Instead of being taught the applications of techniques within a form, one studies the form over a long period of time. Through many iterations of practice, combined with personal trials and analysis, one begins to appreciate the effectiveness and the variety of applications of each technique and combination as well as the overall structure of a form. Just as one gains profound insight through the rereading of a great classic, one's understanding of techniques and the advantages and disadvantages of a particular style may change and deepen with the knowledge and growth of the practitioner. The goal is to extract the essence of the style from a form and be able to comfortably and sometimes creatively apply the techniques in a physical conflict.
During his visit to Wu Dao last summer, I asked Shifu Shi De Cheng, a Shaolin Warrior Monk, how many forms his Shaolin master knew. He named a few but emphasized that his master was particularly skilled at two forms, one of which was Xiao Hong Quan (Little Hong Style Fist) a form typically taught to beginners but one that encompasses many fundamental Shaolin techniques and a plethora of applications.
Ultimately, forms training is a means to an end. It has an important place in traditional martial arts practice but its place must be well understood and not corrupted by an enthusiasm for its entertainment value. As a martial arts student, the objective of learning forms should not be to collect them, but to perfect and internalize the skills and techniques that they seek to teach. With this in mind, consistent training in forms can yield intellectual stimulation and personal growth.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Application of Kung Fu in Peru
By Chris Greci
Chris Greci is a Level 3 (Orange) student at Wu Dao
On my recent trip to Peru, I had my first experience with applying Kung Fu training in a real life situation. No physical contact resulted. However, I found that Kung Fu training gave me the confidence to act, and therefore helping to avoid a potentially problematic outcome.
After a day tour in Cusco, Peru, I decided to eat dinner with a friend I met, and little did I know at the time, maybe practice some Kung Fu, too. We were eating at a fast food place called "Brembos." The seating was tight at a small table for two with some seats facing back to back with adjacent tables. About half way through the "hamburguesa con queso," there came a shriek. After the second of confusion, I realized there was a hand in my friend's purse from a man sitting at an adjacent table.
A few seconds went by as I analyzed my environment and options. (Necessary as the local police are not known to protect tourists; only the tourist police have this interest.) The man was in his mid twenties, a few inches shorter and heavier than me, and looked like a Peruvian. I got up, walked around the table, looked directly at him and in a firm Spanish tongue, said, "What are you doing?" I then instructed my friend to search her purse to make sure that she had all her belongings.
Meanwhile, I held my ground and blocked any escape he may have had in this narrow hall-like room as I waited. While she was checking her purse, he became impatient and got up. I backed away a half step, rooted my stance, and confirmed with my body language that I still was not going to let him leave. He remained standing, but regressed into a frightened state, like a cornered, helpless animal. A few moments later, she confirmed that she had everything and I let him pass without any physical confrontation, remembering how Shi-fu always said that a martial artist tries to win a fight mentally first, before having to use force. This was a wise and preferred approach given the uncertainty of public and police response should a confrontation ensue. Later, I realized that the physical confidence gained from Kung Fu training provided the support for the mental aspect of the confrontation; the physical and mental aspects are symbiotic pairs.
In the end, a potentially awful situation was avoided; a girl was grateful for having her belongings saved by an acquaintance. I sat back down and we finished our meal. It was interesting to note the reaction of the locals in the restaurant. The incident was interesting enough for them to raise their heads. One asked if everything was okay. But that was all. In America, an on-looker would have called the police. Here, it was just the typical ambiance of a typical fast food restaurant. In a small city of a third world country, you are on your own and you must maintain full awareness of your surroundings.
Chris Greci is a Level 3 (Orange) student at Wu Dao
On my recent trip to Peru, I had my first experience with applying Kung Fu training in a real life situation. No physical contact resulted. However, I found that Kung Fu training gave me the confidence to act, and therefore helping to avoid a potentially problematic outcome.
After a day tour in Cusco, Peru, I decided to eat dinner with a friend I met, and little did I know at the time, maybe practice some Kung Fu, too. We were eating at a fast food place called "Brembos." The seating was tight at a small table for two with some seats facing back to back with adjacent tables. About half way through the "hamburguesa con queso," there came a shriek. After the second of confusion, I realized there was a hand in my friend's purse from a man sitting at an adjacent table.
A few seconds went by as I analyzed my environment and options. (Necessary as the local police are not known to protect tourists; only the tourist police have this interest.) The man was in his mid twenties, a few inches shorter and heavier than me, and looked like a Peruvian. I got up, walked around the table, looked directly at him and in a firm Spanish tongue, said, "What are you doing?" I then instructed my friend to search her purse to make sure that she had all her belongings.
Meanwhile, I held my ground and blocked any escape he may have had in this narrow hall-like room as I waited. While she was checking her purse, he became impatient and got up. I backed away a half step, rooted my stance, and confirmed with my body language that I still was not going to let him leave. He remained standing, but regressed into a frightened state, like a cornered, helpless animal. A few moments later, she confirmed that she had everything and I let him pass without any physical confrontation, remembering how Shi-fu always said that a martial artist tries to win a fight mentally first, before having to use force. This was a wise and preferred approach given the uncertainty of public and police response should a confrontation ensue. Later, I realized that the physical confidence gained from Kung Fu training provided the support for the mental aspect of the confrontation; the physical and mental aspects are symbiotic pairs.
In the end, a potentially awful situation was avoided; a girl was grateful for having her belongings saved by an acquaintance. I sat back down and we finished our meal. It was interesting to note the reaction of the locals in the restaurant. The incident was interesting enough for them to raise their heads. One asked if everything was okay. But that was all. In America, an on-looker would have called the police. Here, it was just the typical ambiance of a typical fast food restaurant. In a small city of a third world country, you are on your own and you must maintain full awareness of your surroundings.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)