twins?

which one is the evil doppleganger?

Are Competition Forms Useless (1)

This may begin a series of posts on an important topic. Below is part of the text of a comment I received a couple months back. I have been sitting on it awhile (apologies to the writer) but am now ready to wrestle with it.

From the comment: “I just finished learning the 42 sword form, and I must say it is nothing compared to my trad. Yang style sword. Mostly useless performance moves, with lagging principles and uncertain applications. Do you have better experiences?”

I have been working on the tai ji 42 sword form for a few years now but I have to admit it has not been a priority, as it is one of the few forms I have learned outside the classes of my regular teacher (though with his blessing – all teachers in the same group).

It was created in 1991, not even 20 years ago (shorter than my martial arts career!) and draws motions from 4 of the main tai ji styles. Like other competition forms, it was created with the purpose of an international standard in mind. That way, people from many different styles can get together and compete on the same level with each other. Otherwise, how could we compare two people doing completely different tai ji forms? (This begs the question of whether we really need to do so, but hey….)

Those who practice only the traditional forms, improved and passed down over the generations, may well find the competition forms bland. Those who practice only the competition forms may indeed may be missing out on a lot, since the competition forms are hybrids, drawing motions and inspiration from many sources. Perhaps too much has been lost in the blending. But let’s look at the commenter’s points one by one.

“useless performance moves” – there are one or two movements I would eliminate if I could, but I feel most of the motions are useful and have a grounding in reality. (I write this as someone who has practiced kendo – an art in which people wear armor and actually strike each other with their swords – more than 15 years. Then again, those who practice kenjutsu – no actual physical contact but always done with a partner, much less experience in that area myself – often belittle kendo as being “useless” and so on).

“lagging principles” – hard for me to respond to this one, as I need more specifics from the commenter. But on the whole it feels consistent with the principles I hold to be important in tai ji. What principles are being referred to? Strength in softness? Sinking the qi? These are all over the 42 sword form.

“uncertain applications” – Here again, with the exception of a small number of motions, I would have to disagree. The applications seem clear and generally solid to me (though I doubt you would find me using any of the one-knee-raised, balanced-on-one-foot techniques (poses??) the next time I am fighting on the streets with a Chinese sword).

It may not be the perfect vehicle for teaching tai ji jian, but the 42 form does give us a way to distinguish between dian and pi techniques, dai jian and jie jian, and so on. It teaches the shifting of weight, use of force in opposing directions, and so on. And it introduces beginners to the basics stances, grips, etc.

I don’t know the traditional Yang jian form, though I do know a Yang dao (broadsword) form and quite like it. In terms of traditional sword forms, I am getting more familiar with the Sha family sword forms and I like them quite a bit. Are they better vehicles for transmitting excellence in tai ji? Too early for me to answer, but I sense it is a case of two different roads leading to the same destination- and that these two roads share much in common.

In my case, I prefer the closer, more personal form of transmission of the traditional forms of the Sha family. But I wouldn’t want to do those forms only. My experience in the Japanese martial arts has shown me too many groups lost in small, insular worlds. Too many people who, in the pursuit of purity of transmission of Traditional Forms, do nothing but criticize and belittle other martial artists, especially those doing less traditional arts.

As for me, I continue going to a 32-sword class 1-2 times a week. The 32-sword form was an earlier (and still more common) version of a competition form for international contests. Its history stretches back ot 1957 – much longer than the 42-form but still rather short in the history of martial arts.

While it may be a competition form, I am learning it for myself and am taught finer principles and unrealized applications each week. Many of the motions overlap with those of the 42-form. And many of the motions, principles and applications overlap with those of the Sha family sword forms and other traditional forms.

But I would have to say, I prefer doing the Sha family forms. Going back to the commenter’s question -- “Have I had better experiences?” I can only say that I have been and continue to learn from and be challenged by my teacher. He uses the 32 form (and occasionally the 42 form) as tools to teach. Both forms are quite suitable for large groups of people and are often taught to beginners. Generally, people move into the traditional forms after gaining experience with the competition forms. I followed that pattern and I feel it has served me well.

I am most interested to hear comments from readers on this topic (including the original commenter). Also, look for future installments in this series. I will certainly have to write about Long Fist and Southern Fist in this regard.

(photo of myself and a practice partner doing the 32-sword form about 16 years ago)

two

Was I just complaining about only moving forward one move at a time in my forms lately, instead of the usual mind- and body-stretching sequences of who knows how many motions?

Silly me. Typing notes and consulting Liu Laoshi’s text on Six Harmonies Praying Mantis Fist yesterday, I discovered that I had, in fact, learned two new motions. That’s right, not one but two. The psychological difference is, in my case, profound.

No longer inching along at a snail’s pace, I am suddenly surging forward and straining my capacity to absorb new material. Double what I thought!

But it still feels like one connected sequence, just a difference in how you count the motions. There are four hand motions, a foot adjustment, and a step forward. Is that one motion? Two? Four?

Enough. Time to get outside and practice. One motion, two motions. Who cares, just finish the fight. And get ready for the next mantis fist seminar, two weeks away, and sure this time to blast forward.

snail's pace

In recent practices, the theme seems to be slow advancement.

Tonight’s class in Sha Family sword (沙式太极剑), I was hoping for a surge forward in the (first) two-person paired form. Instead, we got a (good and needed) review of the (second) 36-motion tai ji jian form, including four repetitions in all directions, which really messed with the mind if you let it, or didn’t mess with the mind if you didn’t let it. Do you know what I mean?

After basics, 36-form practice, and breaks, there was precious little time left for the two-person form we are learning. We reviewed the first several motions several times and learned a grand total of one new motion in the last three minutes of class. No complaints, mind you – every minute of class is valuable, and I appreciate the review.

Last Sunday, we had a special 5-hour class focusing on mantis fist or tang lang quan. It’s a small and experienced group and my only real chance to review the forms of Six Harmonies Mantis Fist (六合螳螂拳) as taught by Liu Jing Ru Laoshi.

My daughter was not satisfied with four hours of Daddy Time all morning, so I took her to the afternoon Mantis class. She was pretty good (as much as can be expected of a 7-year-old) and ran through the Long Fist Staff form (长拳棍术) with me a few times, but wouldn’t run through any of the empty-hand routines in front of others with me.

Between intervals of playing and practicing with my daughter, I reviewed Duan Chui 短捶 pretty well and reviewed the first 1/3 or so of shuang feng 双封 from last month. We drilled that many times and then learned a grand total of one new motion.

I suppose this theme applies to last week (or has it been two weeks ago already??) when Akamine Sensei came to Tokyo from Okinawa for a weekend seminar in Ryukyu Kobudo. Actually there was no advancement into new techniques for me, only pushing deeper into the already-practiced forms. It was enough, and yet I still felt a hunger, watching as others reviewed forms which I have been through but don’t know well.

So these are days of slow advancement and much consolidation for me, both satisfying and slightly frustrating at the same time. Anyway, I will strengthen my foundations and get ready for there will certainly be great blasts of advancement in the future.

(photo of a snail found by my daughter at the tang lang quan practice space)

no yue

Another tournament today, the last of the autumn 2009 –spring 2010 season.

My daughter did pretty well in chang quan or long fist – she was suddenly paired with another girl slightly older / more experienced than her. On the one hand, our teacher scolded her for watching the competition too much while performing. But on the other, I think it was good for her, it lit her fire a little bit. The other girl was right in front of her and an instant quicker on each motion.

I took third in the weapons division, without a weapon. The pudao guy was shithot and took first and deserved it. The double-swords woman was also shithot and took second place and deserved it. Kudos to them both – I don’t think I could have beaten them even with my yue.

The authorities stuck a magnet on my yuan yang yue just before my turn and, well, the magnet stuck. They are indeed made of steel. Hurried consultation, verdict – can’t use the steel weapons, but you can perform the routine empty-handed. Alright, I’ll go.

I really hate aluminum weapons and geranium (?) weapons. They are light and flappy and snappy and meaningless (I’m gonna catch some crap for this post but you can imagine the couple words that spring to mind, the second being “it”).

Japan is a weird country. I can walk around for years with a shinken “live” sword which could actually cut people ridiculously easily. But hey, I am an iaido guy, so it is OK. But steel swords from China are completely banned here (I have had one or three confiscated in the airport and had them unconfiscated later). I have had my outdoor practice interrupted and my (Chinese) sword photographed by the police for no apparent reason. You could cut someone with it but it would take a lot more work effort and skill than cutting someone with a shinken blade.

I would pick a standard kitchen knife (yes, steel) over an unsharpened Chinese swords in many situations. Yuan yang yue are basically unknown to Japanese authorities but the word is out: no steel weapons in tournaments. Why steel weapons have been singled out, I have no idea.

I can’t complain – apparently there are many US states where I can’t use my nunchaku, tekko, or other weapons, the same weapons I train with regularly indoors and out over here. I’ll deal with that problem in the future. I have no plans, by the way, to own a handgun. I'm not sure about kama (sickle) here in Japan - the blades are steel, but they are commonly used in gardening. But I have been more careful about practicing outdoors with kama lately. Then there are the sai.....

Anyway I will search the fine print in tournament applications more carefully in the future.

Photo Explanation - my feeling as someone approached with a magnet....

And third place is not so bad, for doing a form with imaginary weapons against an imaginary opponent.

xing yi quan form of (last) month: horse

My ideal is to know the forms I study well enough to be able to perform any of them if asked, no preparation and no hesitation. Yeah, that and being able to actually use the applications in appropriate circumstances.

I found out how far I was from that goal on Sunday. Very nice practice, four hours of nothing but Six Harmonies Praying Mantis Fist – review of the familiar and a plunge into a new form, shuang feng (双封). Good review, good consolidation.

Then somewhere near the end of the day, someone asked about a motion from the horse form, 马形, from xing yi quan. I started…and stopped, unsure of a couple motions. A bit earlier, I had whipped out the swallow form (燕形) on demand and was glad I had been reviewing that lately. But the horse…the horse…

So I got out my notes on paper, walked through the form once and got it. Satisfying in one sense, that it came back automatically. And very dissatisfying in another sense – it was obviously nowhere near second nature. Working on the new stuff is always fun, but it is time to go back and double-check everything.

xing yi quan form of the month: swallow (2)

Following up on the previous post (and falling behind on this monthly focus thing). Astute observers will note that while it is, in fact May 1 over here in Japan, it is still April 30 over in my home country, so I can just sneak this one in.

Yan Xing, the swallow. The key point I get is rapid rising and falling combined with opening and closing – spreading the arms and the chest, then bringing them together again. This ties in with the expansion and contraction of the chest which popped up in other classes last week.

Liu Jing Ru Laoshi’s 2009 Tokyo visit brought a few more changes to the form but the core of course remains the same. The opening orientation has changed 90 degrees, now facing the front to begin, followed by a 180 turn, instead of the prior 90 degree turn. Small matters, really.

Each year when he visits Tokyo, Liu Laoshi tells us that the _____ form is his favorite, and it is of course a different one every year. In 2007, the swallow had to share that honor with the snake. I have to be honest – the swallow form didn’t appeal strongly to me when I first started working on it, but it has grown on me. It emphasizes principles of quick and effective motion rather than drilling directly obvious combative techniques.

Last winter I was practicing this form outdoors and the sun’s position (oops, that would be the earth’s position) had shifted enough to display my shadow on the opposite wall. For the first time I could actually “see” the wings opening and closing, the swallow swooping down across the water.

OK, the next time I single-handedly dispatch five ruffians who have surrounded me, I probably won’t be standing on one leg with my arms spread high and low, as in one motion in this form. But the quick upper-lower combination strikes that this form emphasizes might just come in handy.

Anyway, I will be putting some more polish on this one tonight, then start shifting into the next month’s main animal.