Here at the frontier, the leaves fall like rain. Although my neighbors are all barbarians, and you, you are a thousand miles away, there are still two cups at my table.


Ten thousand flowers in spring, the moon in autumn, a cool breeze in summer, snow in winter. If your mind isn't clouded by unnecessary things, this is the best season of your life.

~ Wu-men ~


Saturday, June 15, 2013

The World of Martial Arts That Has Long Since Passed

Frequent contributor Jonathan Bluestein has another translation for us. This time is it from the Xingyiquan book written by Li Zhongxuan,



The World of Martial Arts That Has Long Since Passed

By:  Li Zhongxuan
Translation by:  Nitzan Oren and Jonathan Bluestein


Forward by Nitzan Oren

Li Zhongxuan, the author of this book, was born in Ninghe village, in the general area of Tianjin, China. He had been the student of Tang Weilu, Shang Yunxiang and Xue Dian (all three were, in turn, student of Li Cunyi). His parents came from a respectable family of government officials from the Tianjin and Beijing areas. Li Zhongxuan chose to abide by an old rule in Chinese society, which forbade people from martial arts circles to serve as government officials, and had therefore given up the opportunity to be in that line of work, even though through his family connections this was relatively easy for him to achieve. At the age of 34 he withdrew from martial arts circles, but continued to train. During the later years he had worked as a guard at the entrance of an electronics store, in the Shidan area in Beijing. Because of an oath he made to one of his teachers, Shang Yunxiang, he never taught anyone his martial arts.            

Someone had once recommended this book to me, and I could not lay it down once I began reading it… Among the dozens of Xing Yi Quan related books written by Chinese authors thus far, this book is the only one written in first person, depicting the experiences of the author throughout life and under the tutelage of some of the greatest teachers of his era. His stories reflect the traditions and customs of his day, discuss disciple-teacher relations, and are generally fascinating and full of colourful descriptions of the Xing Yi Quan he had been taught by his teachers. The stories provide an extra dimension to the life and personalities of those people. The book was dictated to an editor in conversations with master Li, and printed without further editing – which is why the text reads like a conversation.
Previously, one chapter of the book (probably the first one) had been translated by Jon Nicklin, and published on his excellent blog, at the following links:



Myself, I have translated two additional chapters back in 2006, which were further translated into English by my student, Jonathan Bluestein, under my supervision. Chronologically, the reader might be better off first reading the chapter translated by Mr. Nicklin, and then read the translations presented here.



______________________________________________________________

Preliminary remarks by Nitzan, meant to provide some cultural background to some of the contents:        
 
In the Chinese traditional family, it is the custom to honor greatly those family members who are ‘ranked higher’ on the family tree. Also, the young should respect their elders. The relationship between student and teacher in the traditional Chinese martial arts are the same as the relations within the Chinese family. Students who had studied under the same teacher are considered ‘brothers’, and the teacher is the head of the ‘family’. When a teacher of an advanced age accepts a young student, that student might be of the age of his grand-students, or even his great-grand students. This results in the new young student being considered to be the ‘uncle’ of the teacher’s grand-students, even though he might be of their age group or younger. The grand-students are bound to respect him as an ‘uncle’ nonetheless, even though common sense has it that it should be the opposite. Because of this reason, many teachers refused to accept new students when they were older. Others solved the problem in the following way – they’d accept a young student and teach him, but he’d be listed as their grand-student under another teacher…




The first chapter, which had been translated by Nitzan and Jonathan

My teacher Tang Weilu liked to wear a white overcoat. One day he was wearing it while holding a bowl of noodle soup and explaining to us about the martial arts. We, his students, like to pull of acts of mischief, and at one point we ceased the opportunity and clashed into him, hoping his soup will spill on his shirt and ruin it. Without using his hands or feet, he simply turned around, and we were thrown to the floor, while the bowl stayed steady in his hand. Tang said: “In Xing Yi, that is what’s called:  shoulder hits, hip hits, buttocks hit”. The way you use this sort of attack is different from issuing a punch – one little ‘rub’, and it’s over. Shaking your waist, protruding your shoulder or pushing out your buttocks look really ridiculous (are the wrong way to do it). The attack should commence very close to the body, and be swift like a dragonfly touching the water.

One day a cart tied to a horse blocked master Tang’s way. The carter, himself a martial artist, banged his arm against an iron ring which was part of the bars on the wagon, and the ring bent. He spoke to master Tang, challenging him: “Master Tang, could you straighten the ring back with a blow?”. Master Tang replied: “Your arm is harder than iron. Therefore, instead of hitting the ring, I will hit your arm”. As soon as the arms banged together, the carter shouted in pain, and gaze in amazement at master Tang’s arm. Tang said: “At the moment my arm hit your arm, I twisted my arm”. It is therefore
incorrect to say that our arms ‘hit’ – it’d be more accurate to say that I stroke your arm. Later, master Tang explained to his students that this torqueing is necessary to manifest not only in the arm, but with the whole body; coiling and uncoiling, to helped issue force. Releasing force in Xing Yi is not done in a straight line.

Master Tang taught me the arts in the traditional way, with a lot of rules:  “One must train in a yard that is surrounded by a wall, so there wouldn’t be another pair of eyes around. Additionally, one should train at night”. The reason for the latter requirement, besides secrecy, is to energize (enliven?) the spirit (Shen), which is reflected through the eyes. I thought to myself, that only the ancestral temple that was located at my mother’s house would be suitable for such requirements, and therefore I made an arrangement with master Tang that he would move in and live there. There were times in which other students came to train at the temple, so it was a very happy place.

In this place, I have made a life-and-death tie with a younger gongfu brother of mine, whose name is Ding Zhitao. Because he could eat more than any other person, I nicknamed him a ‘food tank’. I do not look like a person who trains in martial arts, but he did looks quite like one – tall of stature, with raging eyes and a momentum that made people shake with fear. Through each day, from morning to evening, he could not resist his addiction of competing with other people in fighting. Yet, he was a man of good temper, and was always honest towards me. Therefore we became blood brother; I gave up other matches that were made for me, and married his younger sister instead. Unfortunately, brother Ding was inclined to extreme shifts of mood and temper, and following a disaster, he passed away.

My father, a self-centered spiritual man, was fond of arranging groups of like-minded men, go with them on trips to nature, to Nanjing and to Shanghai, and once they got at their destination, they would stay for long periods of time. He spent very little time at home. One day after he returned home, my father went pale-faced after he realized that the ancestral temple was full of people. Afterwards and because of it, master Tang stopped arriving at the temple. This had caused a great split between my father and I, because I liked studying martial arts so much. There was even a period at which we two were on bad terms. Such is the temper of those who were of a higher education. At that time I could no longer stand staying in Ninghe. Master Tang believed that all the troubles were brought about by himself, and because of this decided to send me to study martial arts from Shang Yunxiang in Beijing. At least that way, he figured, I would also have a place to stay.       
 
Because the age difference between myself and master Shang was too great, he was not willing to accept me as his disciple, saying that: “An old master with a young disciple is something that would confuse the social order”. Master Tang insisted, and claimed in my favour that I was “an educated kid and a good guy”. Afterwards, he also explained my person situation. Master Shang decided that I had courage, and therefore finally decided to accept me as a disciple. We immediately arranged for a Bai Shi ceremony, at which I was sworn I would never teach anyone else.             
 
Later in life I had the opportunity to test for a governmental clerical position, but master Tang forbade me to do this, as by the ancient traditions and rules, a martial artist with a clerical job cannot be included in the social circles of martial artists.

There is a saying in the martial arts folklore, which states: “He who trains in Gong does not train in Quan”. The meaning of this is that, supposedly, he who trains in Zhan Zhuang does not train in fighting. This thinking is a mistake made by beginners.      
 
The important point in Zhan Zhuang training is ‘to learn from a worm’. During the winter, the worm borrows itself into the ground, and there it remains motionless, as if it was dead. The moment springtime arrives, and the earth is revived, the worm comes to life. While training in Zhan Zhuang, one should reach the same level of ‘liveliness’ – like that of the worm making its first movements in springtime, as if it had come back to life. As a result, the entire body is filled with energy. Zhan Zhuang are infinitely useful, because they are Gong Training. In fact, training fighting is also Gong 

Training. In Xing Yi Quan, one should train the Jing (Essence) to be transmuted into Qi, the Qi to be transformed into the Shen (Spirit), and the Shen to return to emptiness.    

The Qi which is inhaled and exhaled is called breath. Pi Quan exercises breath – not in terms of fighting usage, but in the way it is practiced. When one first learns Pi Quan, one should find an open and wide training space. When a man climbs a high mountain, once his field of vision opens he feels like he just has to make a long exhalation. In a spacious place it is easier to breath freely.           
 
The posture of Pi Quan is with the hand movement going forwards and back again, like the motions of inhalation and exhalation. One should practice for 400-500 meters in each direction. Breathing becomes long and prolonged, deeper, and the energy storages are refueled. The movement of the hands stimulate the whole body, and one starts to slowly feel that the breath expands, and all of the skin’s pores across the entire body open up.          
 
Xue Dian once said: “People who practice martial arts needs to learn to breath from the body”. The sophistication of breathing through the body one learns whilst practicing Pi Quan. Many people have hidden diseases, which Pi Quan practice can completely eliminate. Additionally, once one gets older, the body reaches a state wherein it lacks Qi. The practice of breathing will replenish the Qi storages. Fullness of breath and the Qi is the basis of martial arts practice, and this is the reason that Pi Quan is the first thing to be taught in Xing Yi. To begin with, Pi Quan already contains within it the posture of Zuan, and after training in Pi Quan, the learning of Zuan Quan is relatively easy. This is exactly what’s called ‘Metal giving birth to Water’ (a part of the Wu Xing theory). Pi Quan belongs to Metal, and Zuan belongs to Water. Trying to learn a brand new fist posture, like Beng, is more difficult.          
 
Pi Quan nourishes the lungs. The arms affect the lungs directly. When children go through some physical exercise, such as engaging in an action that expands the chest, stretching, etc, the movement of the arms is used to train the breath, and as a result the lungs get stronger. The legs, on the other hand, relate to the kidneys. In case someone suffers from sexual impotence, we (in Chinese Medicine) call it ‘the water in the kidneys are insufficient’. From examining the martial aspect of Zuan Quan, we may see that this fist is meant to train the elbows and finger joints. But from the health perspective, this exercise, through the training of the legs, treats the kidneys. This is why the stepping in Zuan is not directly straight, backwards and forwards, but is advancing in a spiral. By so doing it enables the legs to have an open space (between them?), and as a result the Qi of the lungs and the water in the kidneys are sufficient. It is only when the upper and lower halves of the body synchronized that one can advance. This is why Zuan Quan is trained after Pi Quan.

 (Jonathan: The point Li Zhongxuan makes about the movement of Zuan being a spiral one is very important. Beginners are taught to practice Zuan on a straight line. But later, the more advanced level is drawing a continuous spiral along the straight path – first crudely with the body leading it, and later in a more refined fashion, with the Dantian. This skill is unfortunately omitted from most Xing Yi schools is modern times)

At the stage of training Pi Quan, everyone mat reach a state in which they feel as the skin is thick like an elephant’s. One may also feel that the fingers of the hands become thick like carrot, and as if there is a ‘vortex’ at the palms of the hands, which draws the fingers to close of themselves and ‘wish’ to remain close. All of these are false sensations. This is caused when the Qi within the body becomes satisfactory, and one’s mood is hyperactive, like a child who jumps from one thing to another and in whatever he indulges in, he has lots of interest. This is a stage that one must go through; if you discover that you have become like this, this means that your gongfu is developing in the right direction.              
 
At this point, there is no longer a need to go to a broad open space to train. In Xing Yi, ever since ancient times, it was commonly said that: “Martial training – (should be able to take place) in an area a cow can lie on”. Wherein there is a little room for stepping, that place can be practiced at. To go to broad open spaces to train is only a way to aid one to easily enter at this style’s door.

Our Xing Yi Quan was passed unto us from Li Cunyi. The goal of it is to defend our country, and not to cause trouble. 


Master Tang said: “(When) you’re cruel, I’m afraid. (But if) You’re afraid – I am even more afraid. That is how my student should be”. Courage and talent should be used for the benefit of the country. As far as personal disputes are concerned, it is best to present oneself as lacking in ability. When training Pi Quan, one should not practice in a place that is full of people. One should not take other people’s place (Jonathan: probably refers to avoiding territorial disputes over occupying public spaces for teaching and business). If there’s trouble with people, you should not cross hands and fight. 

One should learn to subdue with the intellect and win with morality. One should leave time for training in the martial arts, and not get into trouble and waste time.

In the picture:  Li Cunyi (李存, 1847 – 1927).

Because Pi Quan exercises the breath, it takes a year for this gongfu to be acquired. In the beginning, it eliminates diseases, and later it strengthens the body. Through the exercising of the breath, the Qi in the body grows, and a lot of times one would get a feeling of inspiration. At this stage, the learning of martial arts can become very interesting.

The water are found at the base and flow down. Therefore, after practicing Zuan, the character becomes stable and modest, the quality of the skin improves, one’s voice turns nice to listen to, and the thoughts are cautious and attuned. In the past, my teachers were illiterate, but their character was refined and moral. Because Xing Yi is an internal martial art, it does not merely change the body of the man, but also reshapes his wills.

The gong fu which in martial arts is ‘basic gong’, requires a great effort (to be attained). The most basic thing that is required to be a good human being is reliability and modesty, which in turn require restraint. “The old must be mad and the young must be stable”. The old insist upon rules and the young find them hard to follow. Therefore, the old must be optimistic and light, while the young should accept society’s rules of mannerism and politeness. It is only in this way that harmony can prevail and the transmission of knowledge can continue.


The second chapter, which had been translated by Nitzan and Jonathan

Master Tang maintained the teaching of Xing Yi Quan by the ancient rules, and had persevered a few ‘acrobatic’ traditional moves. We nickname these ‘acrobatics’ because these are surprising fighting skills, such as Qin Na (Joint Locks). In the Xing Yi taught by master Tang, the application of a lock by with the palm of the hand is called a ‘small/big silk binding’. Using the whole arm to perform a lock is called ‘splitting the horse’s mane. Using the body to perform a lock is called ‘The Lazy Donkey Lays on the Road’. Using the whole body to perform a lock is a unique trait of Xing Yi Quan – of 10 lock (tries), 9 succeed.     
 
There is a common proverb which states: “A light lock does not equal a simple strike”. Meaning – it does not matter how good you are with locks – you would not be able to overcome a wild attack; but Xing Yi’s locking skills contain a knocking action within them. My gongfu brother, Ding Zhitao, is a butcher. One day master Tang took me to see him at his workplace. When brother Ding slammed a spine of a pig upon the cutting board, the spinal column softened, and the vertebrae scattered. Master Tang put his hand on my shoulder and said: “this is exactly how our Qin Na should be like”.  

My brother Ding is quicker than me in acquiring an understanding of the practice, so he immediately understood what master Tang has meant. I asked master Tang to explain, and he said as follows: “Gripping is dead (stiff and fixed). Knocking has aliveness. No gripping, only locking.”. Meaning – the key to the learning of Qin Na is the ability to continue to learn beyond the continuous methods (Jonathan: last sentence was a direct translation. I am not sure what he meant by this). Master Tang also demonstrated some hand techniques, and determined a rule: “Because Qin Na can cripple other people, we should not use it”.           
 
One day, a relative of mine died. After the burial ceremony was over, I took a few of my gongfu brothers to help me clean all the mess. The way in which we had done it frightened my family members. In a moment or two we were done disassembling the large flag-bearing stand. The rumor on how we did it so quickly passed through the entire area of Ninghe, until it reached master Tang. He then told us: “Did you learn Qin Na? Then, do not use it to perform any type of labour, lest it becomes a habit, and each movement could become a lock, and then you’d end up hurting your family members (accidently)”.

In ancient times, many masters used to copy Confucius in accepting students. Zi Gong helped Confucius befriend the authorities, Yan Hui helped him spread knowledge, and Zi Lu helped him manage people. When there are 3 such people in a family, this can be very interesting. One could see in the Book of Analects that when people used to ask Confucius questions, he’d answer and explain patiently, but when Zi Lu would ask him something, Confucius would subdue him to the floor with a single sentence; he did this to train him to develop the ability to pursued a large audience with a single sentence, so (in the future) he could manage the rest of the students. The teacher teaches every student in a different manner, so every student could fulfill a different purpose.                       

(Jonathan:  see  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disciples_of_Confucius  for further elaboration on Confucius’ students. I also recommend reading the analects themselves, available at:  http://www.confucius.org  )

Confucius said: “Because Zi Lu is among my students, people do not dare say bad things of me. My gongfu brother, Ding Zhitao, fiercely defended the honour of master Tang, and had anyone been disrespectful towards him, that person would be in serious trouble. At that period of time, a group of actors had reached Ninghe. The martial artists among that group (who do tricks like) stand on table and perform somersaults to the ground. They heard that in Ninghe there was a certain ‘master Tang Weilu’, so they began saying bad things about him and praise themselves. The moment my brother Ding heard of this, he decided to go and settle the score with them by bearing them. I tried to convince him to give up on this and avoid ‘shutting their mouths’, saying that it was very hard for such people to earn their living on the street. That is why they try to sell themselves in this way.   
 
I found an old cotton jacket, tied a rope around my waist, and put on a worn-out straw hat – a dress characteristic of a beggar. I went towards the theatre, but stopped at the entrance. My family is originally from Nanzheng, and in Ninghe we were considered a respectable family. Because I arrive at the theatre often to watch shows, and am even known by the nickname ‘naïve Li’, the gatekeeper at the theatre immediately recognized me. He asked: “Why are you dressed like this today?”. I paid for the entry, entered without answering and sat in the front row. 

The show began, and it seemed that the actor/martial artist performing was distracted, with his gaze constantly shifting slightly in my direction. I remained sitting after the show was over. After a while the actor came from backstage. He spoke highly of master Tang, and even expressed his wish to invite him for a meal. Apparently, the gatekeeper told him I was master Tang’s student. 
 
At home, I am the second son, and after this incident many people began to call me ‘Mister Second Son’. In fact, at the
time I had merely been a 16 year old toddler. Perhaps I wanted to solve the problem in this way because I was young.

After a while, the gatekeeper sought me out. He told me that a few youngsters dressed just like I had dressed before came to the theatre. Because he thought I sent them, he let them get it although they didn’t pay. I laughed and explained that I had nothing to do with it. The young folks in Ninghe are cunning…               
 
Master Tang was very displeased with my behaviour, and when the actor arrived to invite him for dinner to show respect, Tang insisted to be the one who would pay. Master Tang said that had the actors believed that I was indeed only a beggar that day, I would have paid for my actions dearly, since I only know how to train, and not how to fight.

In the picture:  Li Zhongxuan.

The Xing Yi Quan classics state: “First, the body must not learn fighting”. Meaning, that before fighting one should learn the skill of the body of whipping with the hand, and changing the power of the whole body; otherwise in a fight, there is only gong fu, but there is no speed, there is no crispness (Nitzan: crispness like that of a cracker snapping in two), and you will surely lose. If the gongfu is not acquired, then the self-training in fighting without the supervision of a teacher can cause a concussion and damage the joints. That is why it is said that “First, the body must not learn fighting”.

Master Tang explained that the practice method and fighting method in Xing Yi are very different. For instance – in training, one should use the body to push the shoulder, the shoulder to push the elbow, and the elbow to push the hand, until one reaches a state in which the movement flows without interruption. Whilst in fighting, first one should crack the hand like a whip, then the elbow chases the hand, the shoulder chases the elbow, and the body chases the shoulder. When he arrived here (where? Not specified) he clapped his hands once loudly. He then said that fighting is the whipping of the body into the palm of the hand, just like one hand clapping the other. 
 
Taking Pi Quan as an example. In training, “Pi Quan is like pushing a mountain”. The body pushes slowly, section after section, from back to front; the more exhausting the exercise, the better – that is how gongfu is improved. Whilst in training fighting, Pi Quan is like swinging an axe. The mountaineers swing axes to chop wood just like a whip, with a sudden, clean whipping action. Otherwise, the head of the axe will jam into the wood and would not be able to cut the log in two with one strike.

Li Cunyi’s students in Ninghe included Tang Weilu, Guo Zizhang, and another fellow that went through Ninghe often, whose name I cannot recall. This guy was a policeman who would walk around and catch criminals by himself. One time, a criminal grabbed his pistol from its sheath and was already holding it in his hand. One slap on his head, and the criminal was sent down to the floor, sitting there, confused. He remained confused for a few days, and must have suffered a concussion. At another time, this gongfu uncle of mine was in Yantai, and hurt his hand while catching some criminal. In the hospital, they told him they’d have to amputate his thumb. Because he knew that Li Cunyi left his secret medical inscriptions to master Tang, he went and asked Tang for help. Master Tang made a recipe and sent me to give it to him. 

When I arrived in Yantai, I saw someone waving to me from afar. It turned out to be a student of this gongfu uncle. He told me he had recognized me at first glance: “We come from the same line, so we have the same gait”. The wound in my uncle’s palm slowly healed. In one of those times he was catching a criminal, he was shot to death. His fighting ability was of a high level. He might still have people who continue his tradition and Xing Yi.


_______________________________________


Jonathan Bluestein is best-selling author, martial arts teacher, and head of Blue Jade Martial Arts International. For more articles by shifu Bluestein, his books and classes offered by his organization, visit his website at:    www.bluejadesociety.com

You may also subscribe to Shifu Bluestein's youtube channel, which is regularly updated with rare and fascinating martial arts videos:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCR0VUbThdexbXJb9BBSKMbw

All rights of this article are and the pictures within it are reserved to Jonathan Bluestein ©. No part of this article may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission, in writing, from Jonathan Bluestein.



___________________________________________________
All the pictures and illustrations in this article, with the exception of the picture of Sun Lutang, belong to Nitzan Oren, and may not be used, copied or otherwise taken advantage of without his written consent.

 

 


Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Examples of Applying Strategy in Everyday Life

In the Wall Street Journal recently, there was an excellent article written by a woman on how she applied the teachings of Machiavelli to managing some of the family issues. An excerpt is below. The full article may be read here.


How Machiavelli Saved My Family 
Like millions of other modern moms, I tried to change them by yelling and nagging. This, of course, only made their behavior worse. After one especially trying day, I stomped off to my home office. Too exhausted to work, I sat at my desk and stared at a dusty shelf of books. And there I saw it: an old copy of "The Prince." 

Pulling it from the shelf, I studied its cover—a portrait of Niccolò Machiavelli. His determined eyes stared out humbly at me; his thin lips turned up in a slight, knowing smile; his stance, powerful and confident—everything that I was not at that point in my life.

Machiavelli's name is synonymous with duplicity, deceit and the cunning, ruthless use of power. But the more I read, the more excited I became.

Machiavelli began writing "The Prince" in the midst of his own crisis. Fired from his position in Florence as a high-ranking diplomat, he had been arrested, imprisoned and tortured for his alleged role in a conspiracy to assassinate Cardinal Giuliano de'Medici and seize the government by force. Upon his release, exiled to the Tuscan countryside, he resolved to write a primer on politics in hopes of gaining favor among the Medicis and obtaining a new government post. Thus was born "The Prince," the most revolutionary and widely maligned political tract of all time.

Machiavelli never wrote the infamous phrase often associated with him: "the ends justify the means." His methods weren't about acquiring power for its own sake. He saw power as a tool for securing the safety and stability of the state. He wanted to show princes how to ensure the happiness and well-being of their subjects. 

A stable and safe home? Full of happy and prosperous subjects? It sounded like a worthy goal, not just for a prince but for a parent too. Maybe I could use Machiavelli's rules to help me reclaim my own kingdom.

Sunday, June 09, 2013

Internal and External Martial Arts

I'd like to bring another excellent article from over at King Fu Tea to your attention.
 

There is seemingly endless discussion about "internal" vs "external" in martial arts. For myself, I don't find the internal vs external distinction very useful. There are simply different ways to go about generating power.
 

An excerpt is below. The full article may be read here. Enjoy.

Defining Neijia: What are the “internal art?”

Not knowing any better, one might think that there is a social hierarchy in the Chinese martial arts.  In the world of popular (or folk) styles there are a variety of schools and approaches.  Some of the most famous of these claim, or actually have, an association with the Shaolin Temple.  Yet for other students, the Shaolin styles still lack something.  More prestigious still are the “internal” styles (neijia).
What exactly makes a martial art “internal,” as opposed to “external,” is a matter of perpetual debate.  For some teachers it has to do with the sort of energy work, or manipulation of qi, that the martial artist performs.  Training routines for building and channeling “qi” tend to be associated with the internal arts.  Of course the performance teams trained by the Shaolin Temple are more than happy to demonstrate their own feat of qi mastery and “hard qigong.”
Another explanation I have run across is that external martial arts attempt to move the body (perhaps for a punch or kick) by using the muscles, whereas internal arts “stack bones” in the skeletal system so that power in a punch or kick can be gained through mechanical leverage.  You are literally letting physics do the work for you.

I quite like this explanation because when you teach the martial arts, you do become aware that
some techniques and styles rely more on the principal of leverage than others.  This explanation seems to have some value in actually explaining physical observations.  But I am also quite sure this is not what the discussion was originally about.

Understanding where these expressions evolved and how they came to be applied to the modern martial arts is a real puzzle, both for the historical scholar and the practitioner of the modern Chinese martial arts.  We were all taught in graduate school that the first question you ask when you come across a puzzling observation is “What is this a case of?”  The unstated assumption here is that things with similar characteristics and functions might share a similar origin.  Or at minimum, knowing that something fits into a given category of analysis suggests what theories can be used to analyze it.

So for instance, if you tell me that Taiji and Wing Chun are both internal martial arts, this suggests that they might share a common ancestry (perhaps with General Qi Jiquan “32 Forms” as Stanley Henning suggests).  Alternatively, if philosophical and Daoist ideas are important for understanding Taiji, should I spend months translating texts and conducting expert interviews with Wing Chun Sifus in Hong Kong, China, Germany, Canada and the UK looking for similar ideas.  Do I need to familiarize myself with the more esoteric side of the Taiji Classics and the later writings of Sun Lutang?  Or would my time and research budget be better spent working on some other line of questioning?

Thursday, June 06, 2013

The Art Among the Clouds


Today we have another guest post from Jonathan Bluestein. Jonathan's previous posts have all made it to the Top Ten Most Popluar Posts on Cook Ding's Kitchen for All Time. His previous posts are The Versatile Whip, Master Zhou: The Man, the Artist, the Teacher, and A Translation of The Science of Neijia Quan. If you haven't read them yet, please do.




The Art Among the Clouds

By Jonathan Bluestein


Some background on how this tale came to be

It is not every day that a person is lucky enough to be offered a tempting proposal by a world-leading authority of one’s profession, hobby or art of choice. It had been my lucky day, then, when I was contacted by my friend, master Chen Zhonghua, on March 2013. The purpose of his faithful email – to deliver an offer one cannot refuse…

My name is Jonathan Bluestein, and I am an Israeli martial artist and author. I practice Xing Yi Quan and Pigua Zhang. Over the last year, I have become acquainted with master Chen Zhonghua. For quite a few years, I have been writing a lengthy book – a broad research of martial arts. I had made contact with master Chen originally to interview him for my book, and he was very kind and helpful in this regard. With have maintained an email correspondence since.


Master Chen Zhonghua is the inheritor of a very special martial art – Chen Style Taiji Quan (Tai Chi Chuan). He is the grand-student of late master Chen Fa’ke – one of the most famous Chinese martial artists of the 20th century. By the time I had come to know him, he was already a well-known master, with established reputation and many schools and students worldwide.
  
Chen leads a very interesting ‘career’ in the martial arts. Most teaches would be bound to one or two schools in which they teach, that would also normally be close to their own homes. Master Chen has developed a different model for teaching. He instead is constantly on the move, teaching intensive seminars worldwide, remaining for up to 3 months at a given place to teach. He would then later return to where he taught, correct his students, teach some more, and move somewhere else. While being very mobile is this regard, Chen still retains a few locations which he usually visits and stays at every year – in China, Canada and the United States.

 
Back in 2006, master Chen had begun building what would undoubtedly become his greatest legacy – the Taiji resort on Da Qing Shan (Great Green Mountain) in Rizhao, Shandong province, China. On this relatively secluded mountain range, Chen had set up a school for those dedicated to their dream of learning the art of Taiji Quan. Perhaps, a ‘school’ is too small of a word to describe what had become a complex consisting of several hotel buildings and villas, a gym and a few huge courtyards, and would shortly even have its own lake. But this is no modest enterprise – to begin with, it was meant to make Taiji accessible to as many students as possible who might arrive from afar to learn in all seriousness. There, master Chen is committed to spend 3 consecutive months every year, teaching several classes every day.   

Then in April 2013, came along that surprising email from master Chen, roughly stating as follows:

“Dear Jonathan,

I remember and have been thinking of your work and research (the book I was writing). I will be hosting an international martial arts seminar on Da Qing Shan in May. I wish to invite you over, and will even be willing to cover some of your living expenses for the purpose of helping out with your research. Please let me know if you’d be interested…”

Being such a generous offer from that nice of a guy, who also happens to be a great master, I could not possibly consider refusing. I started booking flights the next day, and by May 23rd, I was on the mountain.


On Great Green Mountain

A long and winding road – a 3 hour drive, took us new visitors from Qingdao International Airport to the resort on Da Qing Shan. Past 21:00PM that night, the entire area was pitch black – reasonable for such a remote place, where a ‘city’ is the size of an average neighbourhood elsewhere. One could barely see 10 meters ahead, and by the time we had arrived, all my eyes could detect was the vague silhouette of a tall building, with quite a lot of stairs. By early morning though, it had become apparent that we had arrived at a sort of paradise.    

It is challenging to convey to a city dweller the calmness and serenity which embraces the mountain. My ears, which had become attuned to the nervous callings of cars and people, were at once put to ease with the melody of nature. The resort, though large, had been incorporated seamlessly into its surroundings, and affected little the greenery and wildlife surrounding it. Over the next few days, I took a few short hiking trips to surrounding peaks, which revealed an astounding beauty and magnificence. Pictures could hardly do the place justice, as for most of the time, this mountainous area is engulfed by clouds. To be living among clouds is by itself an experience like no other – so natural and pleasing, yet unfortunately so foreign for the most of us.

The Daqingshan resort had been designed with great care and attention to the implementation of Chinese cultural symbols. The place had been filled with traditional Chinese art of all kinds – statues, paintings, carvings and more. The training grounds outside were no different – adorned with Daoist floor mosaics, decorated with large stones painted on with calligraphy and furnished with hillside wooden pagodas.

The roads splitting from the resort led one atop fabulous peaks and fantastic cultural monuments, including some impressive temples, towers and caves. Among these roamed beautiful and graceful animals – goats, rabbits, lizards and birds of prey among them. The mountain itself was from all sides overlooking valleys which seemed to stretch endlessly into the horizon, shimmering away through their countless rice fields as the sun  smiled unto them once in a while, from within the fog-bound sky. 

The Place and the People

During my stay, master Chen was holding the first International Taiji Festival on Da Qing Shan. The festival was attended by over a 1000 people over the course of 5 days (I have myself stayed for 10 days). Most of these people were visitors from all across China, who came to compete in form demonstrations and push hands. The rest amounted to several dozen students of master Chen, who came from all over the world. One such delegation from the United States was lead by Sensei Mike Calandra – a veteran martial artist who, after decades long practice (of over 5 different martial arts) decided to become master Chen’s student after watching him perform for 5 minutes at his (Mike’s) school. Since then, for 15 years now, Mike has been part of the Practical Method family, and have also been master Chen’s disciple for quite some time.

We were all dining at the local restaurant, which featured tasty traditional Chinese cuisine. There were a wide variety of dishes served every day, which varied from the common (beef and chicken of all sorts), to the strange (fried silk worm cocoons), to the very tasty (sugary fried bananas and special Chinese pancakes). Whatever one’s culinary inclinations were, it seemed that everyone’s appetite was pleased by the end of the day.

I have made many new friends on the mountain. There were father-son duo Roy and Lance from Canada, with father Roy being a young-spirited 75 year-old that have outdone many of the younger folk in his performances. There was a lovely German delegation, with wonderful and gentle people who were all into art, with some performing at the event. Perhaps most I liked Master Bon and Massimo, too older gentlemen who came all the way from Italy. True to the Italian spirit, they were warm, charming and fun-loving to the utmost. Frankly, there were just too many nice people for me to mention…
 
Many of Chen’s students on the mountain were highly skilled professionals, highly intelligent and educated beyond what is common.

Some of them had more than one Phd. We had a construction-business professional, a chemical engineer, a medical doctor, and many other talented and interesting individuals sharing one common love for Chen’s Practical Method Taiji. One of the brighter minds that attended the event was Yaron Seidman – a veteran disciple of master Chen, who is a Traditional Chinese Medicine doctor. Having recently released a fine book on Chinese Medicine (called Hun Yuan Xin Fa), he gave a long public lecture on his field of expertise, which had been fairly enlightening (the picture below is from the lecture, which had many more people sitting in the back).

The tournament itself had drawn many excellent fighters and practitioners. One delegation came over from and in the name of Chen Village – the birthplace of Chen style Taiji. These guys did well in the various competitions, and made a good name for themselves. Other guests were of different styles of Taiji Quan – Hun Yuan Taiji (of Feng Zhiqiang), Yang style, and the exceedingly rare Wu-Hao style.

An elderly master of the latter style made a performance of his traditional form, and then followed by showing a method of making his bones noticeably twist and make cracking sounds – one which I have never in my life seen before. Other Wu-Hao masters also showed great ability and skill, and it was obvious from the minute and profoundly accurate movements of their body that they possessed serious gong fu. Master Bon from Italy gave some great demonstrations of both the Chen style form (of Chen village) and of Shaolin Northern Mantis, which in my opinion were even more impressive considering he was already 57 years of age. But most impressive of all was the form demonstration of one of master Chen’s older gongfu brothers, who at age 82 was featuring some of the best Taiji I have ever seen. Firm as a mountain and yet flowing like a river creek, and going through the lowest postures with perfect precision, he had been a living proof to the health benefits that are possible to garner from the dedicated practice of Taiji Quan.

The Man who is Master Chen

I remember a talk that was held one night at dinner, in which one of master Chen’s disciples said the following: “Once in a while, there comes a person within a field of expertise – sports, art, science or otherwise – who is exceptional; head and shoulders above others; and since such a person was born with that type of talent, he would always look at us from above – we could never reach his level...”   
Personally, I do not believe is such predicaments. I see Chen as an ordinary human being – not even of a special talent. Rather, I believe that Chen Zhonghua, like my own grand-teacher Zhou Jingxuan, is a man who had gradually developed his skill level in a certain art to a degree that most other people cannot comprehend – to a level of mastery; and Chen Zhonghua is, indeed, a true master. That, he had achieved through a quality that is far more impressive than talent – that of decades-long dedication.

Even back when I only knew master Chen through online video chats and email conversations, it was evident that he had a unique element to his personality. That attribute turned out to be an exceptional calmness, patience and peace of mind. I recall that when I first met master Chen on Da Qing Shan, it had been at about 5AM, just prior to his regular morning class. The weather was cold and the air misty, and master Chen’s hand was very soft and quite warm as I was shaking it. The feeling of his hand alone could give one a clue to his personality, which was reflected in that simple physical action as it had been in every other
movement or task he would perform during the day. There was a quality to Chen’s way of handling himself that revealed his mastery if one was keen on observing well – even more so than in his martial arts. In fact, the mastery of martial arts is only secondary to the mastery of everyday life, and it is not at all often that one encounters a person who seems to have gain a complete mastery of both. That kind of achievement does not make Chen a better human being than others. It simply means that he is making the most of his natural capacity – something which is definitely worthy of looking up to.
  
Chen’s inner serenity was evident throughout my stay, especially as he was organizing his large international event on the mountain. The event called for the arrangement of housing, food, changing schedules, competitions, demonstrations, special dinners, speeches, ceremonies and such for over a thousand practitioners and guests. Beside Chen’s loyal disciple and close assistant, ‘Walrus‘ Tim from Canada, Chen had to handle the whole ordeal by himself, all the while still teaching and practicing. Though at times things turned out to be slightly chaotic, as one could expect when a Typhoon hits the place for 24 hours, Chen remained very focused and at ease. This is where one could see best his mastery of the martial arts as he applied it to daily life.

The common stereotype for a martial arts master running a very large organization is that of some ‘big boss’, with a thundering voice and a physique to suit an outbursting charisma. Master Chen though is much different in that respect – quiet, unassuming, yielding from social conflict, slim and standing only about 5’6 tall. Nonetheless, his modest presence and soft speech seem to inspire his students as they had been listening to great military leader.
  
Like his martial arts skills, his attitude seemed out of the ordinary, and somewhat counter-intuitive. For instance – he is very generous, and would appear to be more so when under stress. One night before I came to the mountain, he told his students: “When I am in adversity, I try to give more to others”. That kind of Daoist mindset would be incomprehensible to people who had been brought up in Western culture, but this is actually the same sort of attitude that makes his Taiji Quan so efficient.
 
In class one time, master Chen said:  “All people live by two standards of morality and action. For instance – you have one standard for your family, and another for the rest of the world. In martial arts, this is true as well. When a stronger, bigger opponent attacks, your mind knows that the right thing is to become smaller and weaker – too much so for him to handle. But nonetheless, you act by your other ‘standard’ – the wish to try and become as big and strong as him to match him, so you expand, enlarge and stiffen-up, which in turn fails your efforts”. In so saying, master Chen was illustrating how a Daoist principle was not only relevant to martial arts, but also to daily life. That enabled me to see how his personal path was one with his martial arts, and how these two aspects were in fact one, and required mutual development.

One of the things that set master Chen apart from other teachers is that he does not back off from public challenges of his skill. In fact, he welcomes them. Chen is adamant on the importance of this approach. He believes that a true master should be open and honest about his skills, and not shy away from physical conflict when it is important to make a point and prove one’s method. A common line of thinking in the martial arts community in our time is that one has not proven anything unless one goes about to compete in a setting like professional mixed martial arts. I do not hold that view. In any case, I have myself witnessed master Chen easily handle people who were over twice his size, casually tossing them into the air or bouncing them into the ground, whether they try their best to strike or grasp him in any way. Surely, master Chen is not a professional fighter, and does not pretend to be. However, at over 50 years of age, he has a skill set that enables him to effortlessly overcome the vast majority of martial artists.

His circumstances were that he nearly died as an infant (and carries damages from that experience), is short of height and weighs little. But had his skill set been in the hands of someone who is 6’3 and weighed accordingly, with no health issues, then I doubt that there would have been anyone in the world that could have handled such a person. For his size, his health background and the likes of these, it is no short of a miracle that very powerful people cannot withstand the skill of this soft, little man.
   
I myself had the honor of being on the receiving end of master Chen’s technique many times during my stay on the mountain. Frankly, there was no way whatsoever that I could have resisted his will. Gripping any part of his body, I found myself high in the air, landing several meters away. Trying to pull on him sent me via an uncontrolled spiral to the ground. Such things were on the nicer side of him, too – he had been taking it easy on me and on his students, so we would not get hurt (he certainly can cause an excessive amount of damage at will, either with locks, throws, take downs or strikes). The first picture below has Chen in one such moment, about to get a student tossed sideways by accurately manipulating the student’s center of gravity. The student, while trying really hard to push master Chen, couldn’t do anything to resist. The second picture has master Chen about to send another student flying up the air vertically. That student, too, was helpless against master Chen’s skill.

A common pattern was emerging before my eyes, of Chen really being able to prove any of his skills against anyone on the mountain who wished to test him (and he was challenged in one way or another on a regular basis – though not to the extent to all-out fighting). During the international event that took place while I was attending the place, there were a few Chinese martial artists who tried to do just that, and like the others, found themselves easily manipulated into helplessness. The event also included a very serious and tough push hands competition, which at times borderlined Greco-Roman wrestling. The day after the competition was done with, master Chen was teaching competitive push hands. At one point, he saw the winners in the competition were not performing as well as they could have. He then approach them a few times, sparred with them, and tossed them around like ragdolls with incredible precision, using the exact same movements as in the Taiji long forms, and afterwards taking the time to show the moves as  they’re performed solo, so the students could see the connection. That by itself I have found to be very impressive, as very few people are capable of executing such complicated and large movements so successfully and accurately against resisting opponents.

The lineage of Chen style Practical Method is very different to other lines of Taiji Quan. Getting into the specific mechanics of the art would be too much for this article, so I would rather summarize its unique characteristics in a simpler language. It would appear that most martial arts focus on developing ways of dealing with momentum – one’s own and that of the opponent. The Chen Practical Method focuses instead on the creation of superior alignment, which enables one to generate a lever at any given angle, which would enable one to gain full and effortless control of a resisting opponent. The principle of generating a lever through a fulcrum point is the most important aspect in the mechanics of this art, and is incredibly difficult to manifest. Master Chen attests that it takes up to 7 years of dedicated work to achieve a high level of proficiency in that skill. However, once the skill is attained, it can be applied to any movement the art utilizes, and multiplies one’s power and ability many times over. Given, the development of this principle and method is a worthy long-term investment.
   
Through what I have seen, I have come to the conclusion that we can use the analogy of water flowing through pipes to illustrate the mechanics of this art in simple language. Imagine then, that the body is a high-pressure gardening hose, which normally has many holes in it. The holes are those parts in the body which through, at any given point, energy could leak. So for instance, if one’s back is not aligned and is easily bent when pressure is applied by an opponent, then the weak point in one’s back is ‘a hole in the hose’. The layperson has many such ‘holes’, and in physical activity, uses strong muscular contractions to seal the holes. But the muscles are have a limit to their capacity, and when the pressure becomes too great, they lose their hold and the hole opens up again. The Chen Practical Method attempts to solve the problem by twisting the hose (the inner tendons and fasciae of the body) in a way that would divert the pressure from the many holes into one single hole. Then, the body becomes like a regular gardening hose which has only on hole – one can try to resist the water (energy) flow with one’s finger (attack), but the water will immediately push back, and will do so with an even greater intensity, as the attempt to stop the flow has only increased the pressure.     This is exactly what happens when one tries to push on master Chen in any way – one would then find himself bouncing off by one’s own inertia.


The Open Gate

As of today, master Chen is with no doubt one of the leading internal martial arts masters in the world. Even more rare than his own existence as such, is the fact that he teaches openly, to whoever wishes to come at his doorstep. Making things even more comfortable – he had students, branches and schools scattered all across the globe. During my lifetime, I have rarely encountered or heard of such a great, inviting opportunity for martial artists to acquire real, traditional and authentic skill. Yet, master Chen still remains one of the lesser known teachers in the worldwide martial arts community, familiar mostly to a ‘select group’ of a few thousand people in the West, who are ‘in the know’ of the Internal Martial Arts community. Never before in our age, have the stereotype of the bearded Chinese master up the magnificent mountain have been so ironically accurate in describing a living person. To me, he is the real deal. But more importantly – he is a good man, with a caring heart for his students and traditions.

Myself, I am already committed to the practice and teachings of my teachers and arts, and have been so for many years – otherwise, I would have definitely become master Chen’s student. It is my hope though, that through reading this article, people who are interested and have the opportunity, will make the effort to seek out the tutoring of Chen Zhonghua. They will not be disappointed.


Master Chen teaches in the U.S., Canada, the Da Qing Shan resort in China, and in seminars throughout the world. He can be reached via is official website, at:  http://www.chenzhonghua.com/



Wherein you liked this article, please take a look at shifu Bluestein’s ground-breaking book – Research of Martial Arts:    http://www.researchofmartialarts.com


Jonathan Bluestein is best-selling author, martial arts teacher, and head of Blue Jade Martial Arts International. Check out his website for more information about his books and the martial arts taught by his organization: www.bluejadesociety.com
You may also subscribe to Shifu Bluestein's youtube channel, which is regularly updated with rare and fascinating martial arts videos and lectures:     
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCmg7ZGfBdToVl_p_KAfMR2A





All rights of this article are reserved to Jonathan Bluestein © 2020. No part of this article may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission, in writing, from Jonathan Bluestein.

Monday, June 03, 2013

Reviews of Books Having to do with Musashi

Christopher Hellman, author of The Samurai Mind, has an excellent blog named Ichijogi. A particular item of interest to Mr. Hellman is the life of the famous samurai, Miyamoto Mushashi.

He recently posted some book reviews which may be of some interest. An excerpt is below. The full post may be read here. Enjoy.

The Real Musashi: The Bukoden



I have been sitting on this book, waiting for the time to give it the review it deserves, and even so, I will have to skimp a little.
It is the second in the series by William Lange, the first being The Bushu Denraiki, which I reviewed here.
A complementary volume, "Miyamoto Musashi: a life in arms" which looks to go into the life of Musashi in more depth, from a variety of original sources is due out soon, so perhaps this is timely. 
Like The Bushu Denraiki, this volume consists of a translation of one of the main source documents concerned with the life of Miyamoto Musashi, together with copious notes and explanations.
Both the Bushu Denraiki (1727) and the Bukoden (1755) were later rewritten ­– as the Heiho Senshi Denki (1782) and the Nitenki (1776) respectively, by a former pupil (in the case of the former) and the son (for the latter) of the original authors. It is these 2nd generation works that tended to be drawn on by later generations of writers, especially the Nitenki. Both the Bushu Denraiki and the Bukoden were compiled from handed-down accounts of those who had known or had contact with Musashi, and thus provide a fascinating picture that goes beyond the well known anecdotes that many of us are already familiar with.
Both of them have strong connections with the followers of Musashi’s style of swordsmanship, and although they are not technical works, they are particularly recommended for those who are studying Niten Ichi-ryu, as examples of historical documents relating to their study.