Where Wushu Went Wrong
Wushu's Leading Champion, Zhao Changjun, Extols Traditional
by Gene Ching and Gigi Oh
For America, the division between traditional kung fu and modern wushu is black and white as a yin yang. Wushu is wushu and
traditional is traditional and never the twain shall meet. American traditionalists view wushu with a McCarthy-esque disdain. This communist
ploy to emasculate the martial arts is attributed to the Cultural Revolution, but few truly understand what the Cultural Revolution was
really about. Such critics see wushu players as having no fighting skills and believe all "real" kung fu is extinct throughout mainland
China. That's an extraordinary accusation to make against the country with the largest population of martial artists. When wushu began its
bid to become part of the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing, traditionalists cringed. Did Olympic wushu really pose a greater threat than the
Red Guard? Now, we may never know. At this writing, wushu failed to even garner demonstration-sport status at the next Olympic Games. A
historic opportunity - to stand in the spotlight on the world stage - slipped through our grasp.
But back to the division between traditional kung fu and modern wushu, the argument that a wushu player can't be traditional is
absurd. Clearly, some practitioners fall solely into one camp or the other. But plenty of masters are very accomplished in both methods.
Master Zhao Changjun is a classic example of the meeting of traditional and modern. Zhao is one of the most decorated wushu champions ever.
Only one other martial artist has challenged his winning record: Jet Li. In wushu circles, it is said that the '70s belonged to Jet, but
the '80s belonged to Zhao. Even throughout the 70's, Zhao was always pressuring Jet. "The reason Jet Li was always a little higher was
because he was from the Beijing wushu team," remarks Zhao in mandarin, "and the internationals were always the Beijing wushu team. Many
feel that I was better, but because Jet did movies, there was more focus on him." That's no idle boast. From the late '70s to the late
'80s, Zhao captured ten individual all-around titles in national and international events. He has earned 54 gold medals and has
demonstrated in five continents for over thirty countries. Zhao is undeniably one of the greatest wushu masters of all time. And yet,
despite his glorious wushu record, he's a staunch proponent of traditional martial arts. "There's more life in the traditional martial
arts," states Zhao matter-of-factly. That's where he began his warrior journey and that's where he is now.
The Only Son of a Muslim Laborer
Zhao was born in 1960 in Xian, in Shaanxi Province, home of the Terracotta Warriors. He was the only son among five children and not very healthy
as a young boy. He grew up in the years leading up to the Cultural Revolution, when China was in turmoil and there were frequent riots. His
father was a common laborer who had a great respect for the martial arts, but never had the opportunity to study them personally; so he enrolled
his son Zhao in the martial arts, not only in hopes of improving his health, but also for self defense. In those troubled times, Zhao could use
such skills, not only to defend himself but to protect the women in his family.
Zhao's family was Hui. The Hui are China's Muslim minority, the largest of China's sixty ethnic minorities at nearly 10 million
strong. Zhao's father sent him to study under a Muslim folk master named Yuan Run in the traditional Hui fighting arts of tan tui
(springing legs) and cha quan. "From Nanjing to Beijing, the best tan tui is from Islam," quotes Zhao reverently. Zhao's father dutifully
took his son to lessons every morning before work and every evening after, shuttling the six-year-old across Xian on his bicycle. He never
dreamt that his son would become China's greatest champion. He only wanted his boy to be able to fight if need be. Zhao studied under
Master Yuan until the Cultural Revolution broke out in '67. Due to that madness, Zhao's father had to find another teacher. He found Master
Zhang Junde , under which Zhao studied Shaanxi hong quan and drunken style, along with some other traditional forms.
By 1970, the Chinese martial arts were back on track again. Zhao secured a position on the Shaanxi Province Wushu Team at the
tender age of 10, which put him under coaches Yu Baiwen and Ma Zhenbang . Two years later, Zhao entered his first major tournament, the
National Martial Arts Competition, and won the "outstanding prize" for his staff form. That was the modest beginning of one of the most
stellar wushu careers ever.
Two years later, recognized as one of China's brightest young wushu stars, Zhao Changjun was considered for the historic White
House tour. The year was 1974, and wushu athletes would serve as the second group of ambassadors from the People's Republic of China to
ever set foot in the United States. History labeled it "ping pong diplomacy," since the first emissaries had been ping pong players.
Unfortunately for Zhao, he was kicked off the team at the last moment. Many great masters failed to pass the communists' rigorous
background checks, so outstanding masters like Yu Shaowen , Ma Xianda and Pan Qingfu were cut from the tour, regardless of their skills.
Their families weren't workers or they were related to landowners or they had a higher education; any such smudge on their communist record
would result in rejection. But Zhao's family met the requirements. He was rejected for something entirely different. Zhao's specialty was
monkey and drunken style. At the last moment, the government decided that neither form was appropriate for such a momentous demonstration.
"They asked me, 'How can you represent Chinese like monkeys or drunk all the time?'" recalls Zhao. "So I was pulled. Because of that
rejection, Pan Qingfu told me to change my style. Based on drunken style, we built ditang quan (falling style). Ditang had existed before,
but it was lost. We hadn't seen it." This was the origin of modern ditang quan, which is what all ditang is based on today - a
politically-motivated permutation developed by Pan and Zhao. The original traditional ditang quan remains hidden or lost.
Despite newly invented forms and wushu command performances that followed the Cultural Revolution, martial artists like Zhao
always kept their fighting skills. The years surrounding the Revolution were very violent times. Few Chinese owned guns, so Zhao had many
opportunities to test himself on the street. He remembers an incident about four years after the White House tour. Zhao and some classmates
went to see a movie, the only form of entertainment at that time. One of his martial brothers sat next to him, but because he was small, he
had to sit on the edge of the chair. This upset another patron, but instead of asking him to sit down politely, he just flipped the chair
and knocked him over. An argument ensued, and the other patron wound up storming off so they all thought it was over. Little did they know
that he went to get help. Zhao and his classmates were ambushed as they left the theater. "The training I had from teacher Yan was very
traditional," reflects Zhao. "You had to know the attack and defense method within every movement. If I didn't know, I'd get spanked so
hard. Also, my father reinforced this. I was trained on the professional team, so I was in good shape, and just 17 or 18 years old. So it
didn't take me too long. There were seven or eight people and I just beat them up."
Athleticism is essential. Zhao credits his training, as well as the rigorous training of the professional team, as contributing
heavily to his victory in that street fight. "When screening for a professional team, they really watch you," notes Zhao. "You have to have
the speed, the determination, everything. If you can get on a pro team, your body has to meet rigorous standards. My father encouraged me
to take the professional route, but my grandfather was a doctor of traditional Chinese medicine and did not want me to go this way. All of
the wushu competitors, especially the pros, they already have a good body. They have to have what it takes. Otherwise, you just can't
compete nowadays."
Did Modern Wushu Fail?
Zhao is one of several living masters today that were direct eyewitnesses to the origin of wushu as it evolved from its traditional roots. Now,
with the Olympic dream shattered, he ponders the effects of the last three decades of modern wushu on Chinese martial arts. "I feel really sad.
For my generation, we were lucky. We had a chance to learn traditional martial arts. Some younger people don't have the chance to know
traditional Chinese martial arts at all." Those are the wushu players that traditionalists vilify, but Zhao sees them as the victims of
circumstance. Today, he is working to promote traditional martial arts instruction to the next generation.
Ironically, wushu isn't even that popular now in China, at least as a spectator sport. Zhao says, "Actually, for competitive
wushu, there are no spectators. No one goes to watch. They are all doing the same thing, so it's not interesting. It's because they had to
go the sports way to bid for the Olympics. They needed a lot of regulations and rules. Everything had to be very clearly demonstrated and
simplified. We've argued for a long time, but we believe tae kwon do doesn't have the depth or variety of Chinese martial arts. However,
they got into the Olympics much earlier. Wushu wanted to get in, but it had to be changed, had to be simplified. They took out the fighting
applications so they could jump higher and show more.
"If you want to jump high, you can't compete with gymnastics. The artistic aspect cannot compete with skating. For competitive
wushu, you need to nail the landing, so now the beginning posture must be slow, and then turn, and then land solid. Traditional Chinese
martial arts don't have this requirement. You just go out and do it quickly. Modern wushu has lost the meaning of the movements. What are
you really doing? You hold this for a second, then turn and land like that?
"Why did tae kwon do get into the Olympics? All the leg fighting methods are in there, so it's complete. Boxing is everything with
the fists. To get wushu into the Olympics is really a difficult test. What can represent Chinese martial arts? For example, look at taiji.
There are many different forms and they are very different. You can't have that many medals. The Olympics is cutting down on medals. So
without that, they combined everything to things like 24 forms and they don't look like anything. It's the job of all Chinese martial arts
practitioners to represent Chinese martial arts, but I'm very pessimistic. If we can't get into 2008, it'll take another twenty or thirty
years at least to sort it out."
Although many wushu promoters still cling to the dream of Olympic gold, at this writing, the best the International Wushu
Federation has come up with is to hold a world wushu competition in Beijing simultaneous with the Olympics, but not officially part of
it.
"I'm inclined to say modern wushu is a failure," confesses Zhao after a long pause. "It's because when wushu tried to go Olympic,
somehow they lost the character of what wushu really is. And that's where the failure is."
Cage Fights and Mixed Martial Arts in China
In contrast to the yin of wushu is the yang of mixed martial arts, or cage matches, which have been growing steadily in popularity in America.
These are the two extreme ends of the competitive spectrum: wushu is acrobatic shadowboxing; mixed martial arts are no-holds-barred fights. Both
can pose a threat in the minds of many traditionalists. Many mixed martial arts enthusiasts decry traditional arts as obsolete because you just
don't see traditional techniques used in the cage.
Zhao is a firm supporter of mixed martial arts. "I think mixed martial arts are good competitions," he declares. He fervidly
encourages more exchange between different styles, different groups and different methods and sees mixed martial arts as one of many
platforms for such intermingling. "Now since we're global, everything is mixing. In the past, China didn't allow knees and elbows like Thai
boxing and Thai fighters didn't allow throws. I remember in Europe, they didn't allow throws ten years ago. Now everyone gets together to
study and explain. We're finding a common ground and we can build from there. Just look at sanshou. It's our hope that more people can
accept this. That's the growing part. I would love to see a martial arts competition run like an athletics competition, but instead of
swimming and running divisions, the wide spectrum of martial arts could be seen."
Zhao was already mixing it up over two decades ago, long before the Ultimate Fighting Championship hit America. In 1985, he
stepped into the ring with one of the world's most famous boxers, Muhammad Ali. Zhao remembers it fondly. It wasn't an official match, just
a friendly exchange of skills. Zhao is much smaller than Ali, but he had an advantage. Boxers don't typically train their legs to take
kicks. Zhao is a master of tan tui, a traditional style renowned for its kicks. After Zhao threw a few kicks, Ali quickly relented. As an
international wushu ambassador, Zhao has had many opportunities to share skills in informal, friendly atmospheres like this all around the
world. Those experiences, added to his mastery of wushu and traditional, have given him an open mind about all modern fighting methods; and
this helps explain why he embraces the rise of mixed martial arts.
No-holds-barred matches actually have a longstanding history in traditional Chinese martial arts circles, only they weren't fought
in cages. According to Zhao, "In the old days, we fought lei tai (literally 'elevated platform' referring to the dueling grounds for open
challenges). There were no age or style limitations. They are still trying to do similar stuff. Any kind of style can get together. But
it's still in the testing stage. By testing, perhaps we can have better rules. Maybe that will be a step up. That way, we can improve." The
mixed martial arts scene is just beginning in China. Now it's very small. Zhao knows why. "In China, mixed martial arts are not organized
by the government."
Will Traditional go Extinct?
"Competitive martial arts can never represent the whole picture of Chinese martial arts," insists Zhao. "I hope traditional Chinese martial arts
becomes like sumo in Japan. Sumo isn't trying to push to be Olympic. There is a special respect for sumo. Traditional Chinese martial arts still
have so much to offer.
"In the olden days, before the gun, traditional Chinese martial arts were much more practical, especially on the battlefield. But
today, we still have a lot of practical reasons to practice. In Japan, a lot of people enjoy taiji to counteract the pressures of everyday
life there. There are plenty of healthy pastime alternatives, like tennis. But for tennis, people need a court. Taiji needs nothing, just a
little space. You can do it for 10 minutes at work, relax, and then go back to work to face another pressure.
"There are others who want to be movie stars. Their goal is to be the next Jackie Chan or Jet Li. There are others who want to win
medals. But modern wushu is limited. If you're too young, you can't get it. If you're too old, your body can't do it anymore. These are
disadvantages. Most competitive wushu only has the shape. They have the movement, but no gong (literally 'skill' but in Chinese martial
arts, this refers to essential fundamentals derived from extensive practice). You must practice fajing (explosive power) by hitting
sandbags 1000 times a day.
"At my school, all students must study both traditional and modern on the basic and intermediate levels. This takes about three to
five years. When that is achieved, the student is evaluated. For the advanced level, the student specializes in sanshou (free sparring) or
taolu (forms) and only trains in that. There should be a good relationship between traditional and modern wushu. They should have more
interchange. This could lengthen the competitive life of modern wushu. It could increase development and provide more room to grow. You
need two legs to walk: one is modern wushu, one is traditional. You cannot give up one of them."
How to Follow the Warrior's Road
The real culprit threatening traditional Chinese martial arts is not modern wushu or mixed martial arts. It's attrition. Kung fu, by definition,
is a skill that takes time and work - a lot of time and work - and most people just don't dedicate enough time and work to perpetuate the art
anymore. The road of the warrior is full of hardships, but the responsibility lies within each of us. The only people who can kill traditional
kung fu are the traditionalists themselves. Tradition will only be preserved if we, the present generation, successfully hand it down to the next
generation. If we fail, there's no one to blame but ourselves.
As a seasoned veteran, Zhao offers advice. "Few people can keep up with martial arts on the higher levels. Modern-day people want
something that's effective immediately. With tae kwon do and karate, you can progress much faster. But Chinese martial arts are slow. You
need more time. Many don't have the willpower. They don't have the body to continue training."
Zhao hopes that one day martial arts will be offered in the public schools all around the world, just like it is in parts of
China. Zhao urges more grassroots education for the general public so more people can enjoy the benefits of martial arts. "The Chinese
martial arts are a completely balanced regimen. It requires jumping, agility, explosive power, all sorts of skills. If you learn the basics
of Chinese martial arts for two or three years, you'll have a decent foundation for anything. You could switch to basketball or football or
any physical activity and see benefits. If you insist on martial arts, you can attain some level of skill. If you don't, it's a good basic
to go elsewhere. However, if you want to continue down the warrior road, you and your teacher must build up your willpower. Two or three
years are not enough. The road of martial arts is not quick or short."
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Internal Martial Arts Talk
Interview with Bruce
Frantzis on Internal Martial Arts
(Questions are in bold font)

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You’ve been practising Internal Arts for almost 40 years and have gone through a
range of different disciplines, could you tell me a little about what you are teaching now?
What I primarily teach now is a six-part Taoist Qigong system that contains within it
all the building blocks. This Taoist Neigong seems to be the root from which all other qigong systems in
China have obtained some, or the bulk of, their information and capacities. I also teach
Taiji & Bagua and I teach them two in ways. I teach the Short Form for the vast majority of
people, because that’s about as much as they can do, and I also teach the Long Form. When I teach the Long Form I
also teach the fighting part of it. I teach some applications in the Short Form but when people go into the Long Form I
get more into the fighting applications and also the real meditation work that occurs in Taiji, along with Push Hands
and stuff like that. I also teach a lot of Taoist meditation. I teach also Qigong Tuina which is the healing Qigong
work. I worked with a Qigong doctor in China for 10 years and have taught this work very sporadically over the years
but wanted to wait until I got the Qigong teachings reallyestablished before I worked with the very specific healing
work. Do these various disciplines you’re using having similar
connections but different end products? Yes. The Qigong is very clearly building
blocks. It’s not martial arts. Instead, it just gives you the juice or the energy. Softness is the
biggest thing about Taiji; it’s softness and the use of Yin energy. The biggest thing about Bagua is its
incredible degree of spiralling and its ‘unpredictability’
especially in terms of footsteps and movement. Energetically Bagua is really much more like a vortex and Taiji
is like the waves of the ocean. That’s the feel of it and the reality of its uses in fighting. Contrary to some
people in the game I do think Qi exists, I think it’s a very learnable subject and a very real subject and I just
chuckle at people that don’t believe in it. I find that to be somewhat of a humorous statement given the fact that for
thousands of years all this stuff has been based upon it and the distinction in China between things that are physical
and things that use energy is very clear. I devoted a couple of chapters on how qigong works and qigong theory
in my book, ‘Opening the Energy Gates of Your Body.’ That’s interesting because in the main, when
working with Qigong practitioners, they tend to focus on acupoints, meridians etc. There are sixteen components to Qigong. Qigong is a modern term but if we go back more than
50 years ago the term Neigong was always used. If we talk about that, the whole thing about it is that the meridian
lines are one of the components. Breath work is another, as is working with the core channels of the body,
working with the secondary energies of the body, working with the opening and closing of the joints, the opening and
closing of the spine, working with the movement of the internal organs…. all these are very distinct pieces. To try and
learn all of them while you’re doing either Taiji or Bagua is a virtually impossible task. In the old days you would
just learn the Long Form because the pre-supposition is that you would be practising three-four hours per day,
six-seven days a week. Now, even in China, since that time has become really short, Qigong sets are taught with a small
number of movements that work on what the internal components are. The first stage of it, and this is what I teach the
majority of people, is purely for making you healthy. If you have a disease, you can get well and if your health is
so-so, it can get better. The goal is to take a person with a weak condition and give them a strong condition
or help change an unhealthy condition to a healthy condition. The second stage, training, which I teach occasionally, is
much harder and much more intense. It’s for martial arts. I sometimes teach that to professional athletes because
those people are going to train the couple of hours a day to get very superior abilities and you don’t get
superior abilities just by doing something casually a couple of days a week for an hour. The third level is about how
Qigong is done in terms of meditation. This is what the Chinese refer to as Shen Gong. I’m not really teaching this a
lot. I teach it sometimes when I teach meditation but I don’t teach it in general because I simply don’t have people
with enough background. That’s all it really comes down to. You can’t go to university if you can’t do your A
levels. You have to have the foundation. With reference to Qigong and Neigong,
would you say that Taiji as an art is ineffectual without it? Yes. Well ineffectual in what way? There’s a thousand ways in which you could be
ineffectual. Well let’s say Taiji as a fighting art?
Without the application of real Neigong principles you will find that your Taiji will
have barriers at each point and without Neigong you won’t go past them. Then the question becomes,
“Can I learn the movements of a Taiji form and not really be doing Taiji but make it work for fighting?” Sure you
can, because Taiji comes out of Shaolin and as long as you are able to move in such a way, to parry a punch and
make them go down, you’ll be fine. By the same token, a good street fighter can make up his own Taiji form, in the
pub when he’s drunk, as long as he can slam the guy in the head and knock him out, then he’s got an effective
martial art. However if you’re talking about what Taiji can really do…? That’s what I
mean, the original creation of the art. Well if
you’re talking about the original creation of the art then there’s no way of being effective in fighting
without the Neigong. It’s like trying to buy a plane ticket without money; it’s not going to work.
One thing that interests me is that in the three official books on Taiji from Mainland
China only one of them contains detailed information on acupoints and that’s the one on the Wu
Style. However, I know that many Wu, and other stylists have neither a knowledge nor an interest in these
points. The acupuncture points are not really so necessary, they come up
purely as focus points of what to do. Wang Peisheng, the author of that book was talking about
everything that has to do with the principle of lengthening and how you actually pull energy out of your
spine and he’s breaking it down in that sort of a sense. However, the fact is that you don’t focus on the
acupoints or meridians when you are doing Taiji. But is it important to even be aware of
them? It’s important to be aware of the Yin & Yang meridians of
your body because when you move your meridians, the tissue starts moving. It’s important to know how Taiji is done
properly so the meridian action line happens, but if you’re going to go, “Oh! Now I’m moving energy up my back and
down my arm and coming back in,” then it’s nonsense. It’s too much, there’s no way in which your mind can
remain still, calm and concentrated and still do that – that’s a mental gymnastic exercise. You can do that
sitting, but you can’t do that moving. Out of all the teaching you are doing are there
common themes that you feel people should be aware of but are perhaps missing?
I run instructor’s training courses regularly and I find that the vast majority
of people studying Taiji do not understand their body alignments; The majority don’t know how to do the breathing
work and the majority, in the West, do not know how to do the opening and closing techniques which are
essential to how Taiji is done. When I was living in Beijing, China in the early eighties, Men Hui Feng,
who was the Head Instructor and teacher certifier at the Beijing Institute of Physical Education said,
“Without opening and closing, there is no Taiji.” Of the sixteen parts of Neigong, which are all part of Taiji,
most people in the west maybe do one or two at best. The whole method is not understood. What gave it such a
reputation, which allows these incredible people do the amazing stuff they do, is rarely available in the
West. I’m trying to open up those doors for people, but what makes it very difficult is that, it’s like a
computer; you cannot tell from t h e box what’s inside. So, in accepting what you say,
that most of what is really happening can’t be seen from the outside, can you relate to me, a
little about what it is, you f e e l p e o p l e a r e missing? Well I can tell you how I’ve tried, and what I’ve done is not really a lot different from
what a lot of other people are doing. 50 years ago virtually nobody would have you do a small Qigong set to
get the Neigong part of it. They would have you do the Qigong set, to get the principle, which you could
practise as a warm up, for maybe an hour, and then everything that you are learning in that warm up, is what you
put into your form. However all this presupposes that you had a lot of hours to practice. Nowadays most people
have enough trouble finding the time simply to learn the movements. Working with my teacher, Liu Hung
Chieh, in Beijing then thinking about this for 20 years, and watching what was going on in the West, ,what I did
was find a number of basic Qigong sets that had been used in Taoism for almost 3,000 years. My philosophy
was very simple – people have trouble learning external movements, so find the forms where the external
movements are the least and the internal content is the most. Then people wouldn’t have
to undergo the difficulty of just keeping all those forms together. The aim is to use a few movements which
really allow you to connect with the basic energetic principles. Then, whenyou teach Taiji or Xing-I or Ba Gua,
you are able to guide students to learn body alignments very specifically. In my instructor training courses I
show exactly what should go where. Sometimes the specifics of what is done in Taiji or Ba Gua does not directly
relate to how the internal principles are practiced in Qigong. You have to learn how to adapt these
principles to specific requirements. That’s important. You teach primarily Qigong, Taiji
and Ba Gua, are all these different courses, for different students, or do you find much of a
crossover with the students? Well, everybody does Qigong as it’s like the foundation, and
everybody wants to be healthy. I find some people want to do Taiji but
they don’t want to study Ba Gua and some Ba Gua but no Taiji. As a general rule I try to have
every student who learns Ba Gua to at least learn a Short Form of Taiji. Sometimes the energy of Ba Gua can
get too steel-like inside you and it’s good to practise something to soften it up. I also find that lots of the
people who learn Taiji don’t learn Ba Gua. Ba Gua does things fast almost from the beginning. When I teach Ba Gua
I always teach it with the martial tradition except when I teach the 1st movement, the single palm changeand that’s only in t h e 1st initial course t o make sure s t u d e n t s
understand the principles of e n e r g e t i c s . After that I always teach applications because, being a
lineage holder in Ba Gua, I have a responsibility to see high class Ba Gua survive ,and not die off.With Taiji I
don’t always insist that students learn fighting but I do encourage it so that they can understand where their
intention is, and where their energy is going with the movements. They are not just waving their hands in
the air. You don’t have to know that the energy is going along a particular meridian line but it is helpful to
know that you’re pressing energy downward, or you’re making it go out to your hand, and that you’re pulling it
back into you, because in all those movements of Taiji, this is an aspect that many people just aren’t aware
of. In Medical Qigong there’s a whole Taoist principle of how it very specifically affects your health.
All those movements have very specific health benefits and if you don’t use your intention to promote the energy
along the required pathways, you may not get the health benefits. It’s not like I’m telling people that
they have to learn martial arts, but if they want to learn how energy moves, the martial part is the easiest
way to remember it. Every other way is dramatically more difficult. Let’s talk about Push
Hands. There are a myriad of approaches to this side of the art, and some methods work for some people,
while others do not. My feeling is that the majority of people who practice Push Hands are not necessarily
practicing Taiji principles. That’s pretty accurate. For me, this is a big loss and a big shame. One problem you
have with a lot of people who do Taiji, is that they have never done an
external martial art like say Karate or Kung Fu. One of the things that you can learn from Karate or Kung Fu
is how to allow your aggression to happen and meet a challenge without becoming collapsed or paralysed. Once you
know how to do this, you can really start letting your force go, so that you can start using these principles.
What’s really hard is that a lot of middle class people start taking up Taiji and they’ve never had a fight in
their lives. Somebody can frighten them just by moving at them too fast. They’re not relaxed within their
personal space. When they start doing Taiji, as soon as any pressure is put on them, they tense up and can’t
do anything. One of the things that I think is important is that, in Push Hands, there has to be an initial
period, where besides learning how to do the basic turning of the waist and f u n d a m e n t a l
movements like weight shifting, there also needs to be something where you’re working with some sort of exercise
which gets them over the initial shock of working with someone who’s invading their personal space. It’s
very important yet rarely taught. It’s always a problem because when you initially teach this you get a certain
degree of dropout, but if anybody is actually going to be able to learn Push Hands, they’re going to have to go
through this stage. On the other side, some people teach Push Hands techniques that are specific to their
body type; long arms, long legs, short arms, short legs, heavy, thin etc. When I learned Taiji in China,
if you were being trained to be an instructor in Push Hands or in fighting, you were very specifically taught that
there are variations that are possible, for example if your partner’s long, you’re short, they’re heavier, when
you’re lighter, whatever the body type is. After that everybody develops his or her own Push Hands style. They
create their own based upon their own unique physical and mental make up. There are however, a number of
very basic principles, which you don’t violate, because experience has shown that when you do, you get thrown
backwards or you fall on the floor. Within that, the difficulty you have is that when lots of students try to
mimic their teacher, rather than adapt what their teachers are doing, for their own body type. They don’t ask
questions that have to do with things like someone having arms as long as King Kong when they only have short
arms. Problems occur when movements are not taught with the theory and principles clearly behind them.
You then get people going off on all sorts of directions. Then the final thing is that they may feel that it
works because they can slam you. Well that may say that you’re better than the other person, but it doesn’t
necessarily give them an insight as to how it happens. Pushing Hands is a training exercise that is a bridge
between formwork and actual fighting. I feel that a lot of these problems regarding
personal space problems stem from psychological and emotional situations or problems. First of all you have the innate animal instinct of competition or not giving your
ground. If the ego responds then the attitude is that I want to be right, and I want to win, or I’d lose face or
be embarrassed. You then have the other condition where the person is just thinking too much. Everything you’re
asking about here, the 16 components of Neigong and the relationship of qigong training to form training,
is in the book I wrote, “The Power of Internal Martial Arts.” The first chapter contains a whole discussion
about the animal and the human approaches to martial arts. The animal approach is that when you’re
confronted the muscles tense up and your adrenalin kicks in. The human approach is that when you’re confronted
with something you just become completely relaxed. You move effectively, you move from your mind, but you
don’t kick in the adrenalin response or the animal, glandular response, that would
stiffen up your muscles. This is one of the real places where the rubber meets the road in Taiji. You have to get
through that in Push Hands. So how can it be achieved? It’s often done through exercises like training the turning
of the waist, then moving your arms and legs, then progressively having your opponent lean on you more
and more heavily. Something must also be done to unlink your natural emotional response and your natural tendency
towards adrenalin pumping and your muscles stiffening up. Different teachers do different things. On the
other side you have people who are practising Push Hands and what they’re actually doing is Sumo. They’re digging
in and working real strong, but on that basis they’re really going to have problems, when they encounter a
good wrestler. When I was first training in Taiwan, the people who worked in that way would have the Judo
practitioners just pick them up and throw them on their heads every time. If you’re going to play that game you’re
going to have real trouble with a Judo or wrestling guy because that’s what they do. So what we really have to
think about is if there is a very deliberate method of training in Push Hands? I once had a student who was always
losing in competitions. So I got a Push Hands team together for one year and put him in with a bunch of
guys who really wanted to do it. Then he started winning national tournaments and went to Taiwan and won at
internationals. The real question is, do the teachers know the principles of Taiji and are they willing to xercise
them? Some people just like to focus on the hard side of Taiji and some just the soft ide. The fact is that it’s
both. You talked about Push Hands being a bridge etween formwork and training for
fighting, how does it train for this middle area? hat you’re learning in Push Hands
are a couple of things. How to develop your root,which is very important because when you fight,
if someone smashes into your arms, and you can’t hold your root, you can’t yield to their force, or turn
their force. It’s just a question of who’s the bigger brute or who’s stronger. The second thing it teaches you is
sensitivity and the timing to be able to, at a touch, move and do things. It’s very different than a boxer just
punching. Those things are invaluable because when you get into fighting you’re going to do what you do in Push
Hands plus more! You’re going to be dealing with timing and distance and you’re going to ratchet the speed up
four or five times. You’ve studied a number of different Taiji styles;
do you have any preference, for a particular style? My experience is
that for the health of the body and for meditation the Wu style that I teach is the best and that’s why I
do it. If my interest were in just stretching my body out I’d probably do the Long Yang Form. The Yang
style does that well but the Wu style does different things for your health that the Yang style doesn’t
do. What kind of things? The Yang
style is really excellent for healing the middle and upper back and joints but it doesn’t really reach the
lower back that well. The Yang style is good for repairing organs that have become weak, or if the reason for
an imbalance is essential weakness, then the Yang style is good at getting rid of it. If, however, an
organ has been traumatised, like poisoned or in an accident, then, my experience has been that the Wu style
takes care of those things much better. Would you say that any particular style has
a more effective fighting training system? No I wouldn’t say
that. The Chen style people like to say that their system is better for fighting but what I would say is
that they overtly show a lot more techniques. Honestly and truly, having been a fairly serious fighter in Taiji
I think that each style has speciality areas where certain things are done better than in other
styles. But it would also be down to individuals working with these
styles? I think you have to distinguish three things here and are all of equal
importance. The first is 70% of what anybody in fighting does is going to be exactly the same, whatever the
style. Then there’s going to be a 30% area of real specialisation. This guy does this, this guy does
that. This car brakes in 10 seconds from 150 miles an hour to 10 miles an hour. This car can accelerate from
zero to 150 miles in nine seconds. You have these high performance things right? That’s one thing and that’s
inherent inside the style. You can’t expect the Fiat to do the same thing a Masserati can. A Land Rover can drive
straight up the side of a mountain but don’t try that with a Rolls Royce. They do different things but what do all
cars have in common? They have engines, they have a box, they have seats and they roll on the ground and
go places. Then you have these very specific areas of specification. The main reason that I don’t teach the Chen
style is that it’s so hard on the body for most Westerners because of the degree of twisting and it’s hard on
their lower backs and knees. Because they don’t squat, because of the diets Westerners eat and because of all
those things, there is a much greater tendency for injury in the Chen style. Not so much because of the Taiji
but because of the nature of how stiff the average Westerner’s ligaments and tendons in the joints are.
The Yang and the Wu styles are more popular because they’re easier on the body. The third condition is that if
we’re talking martial arts, we’re talking war. If one person has a 22 calibre gun and another has a 45, there’s
absolutely no doubt that a 45 will put a bigger hole into you than a 22 will. Then we have the question of who’s shooting that gun and how much experience they have. In any martial art you
can talk about their techniques but at the end of the day it is a human being that is doing the technique. Even if
the technique is superior, if the human being is inferior, then you have an inferior product. A superior
human being can make an inferior technique work better than an inferior human being can make a superior
technique work. If you get two Grand Prix racing drivers, some might say it’s the car that wins the race more
often than the driver. The egoist says that it’s just the person and the technician says it’s just the car; the
fact is that it’s both. Do you believe that the original creation of this art is in
fighting? Yes and no. The Neigong came from Taoist meditation, which is the subject
of two volumes I wrote, Relaxing Into Your Being and The Great Stillness. I was fortunate enough to have
learned Lao Tzu’s Water Method from my teacher in Beijing, Taoist Lineage Master Liu Hung Chieh. People did
Neigong to keep their bodies healthy. To create Taiji, meditation and Neigong were fused with martial arts, which
were entirely separate. People did Qigong and meditation in one place and the martial arts in another and then
they met together and it become something else. It’s true that in the Chen village Taiji was a martial art and the
same principles are in other Taoist martial arts like Ba Gua. All the internal principles were there but
not the fighting principles. That didn’t come in until the 1600 or 1700’s. Nobody really knows the exact date.
It’s within the past 500 years. I have seen that the
internal practices are an essential component of these arts, why are they not aught freely and
openly to all? Some of the Chinese teachers, teaching it in he west didn’t
want to give this material out, and some were also teaching it quite openly, ut the students weren’t smart enough
to understand it. Some of the material never got here to begin with. There were also language problems.
There was one very famous Chinese Taiji teacher who I thought was ripping people off until I saw how his
translators were interpreting and that they didn’t know what he was saying. There were a lot of things that came
from the Chinese that were interpreted through Chinese metaphor and you can have radically different metaphors
between one place and another and you can still be talking about the same thing. This often caused people
not to fully understand something that was critically important. I think it’s somewhat irrelevant why a
lot of this hasn’t been passed on. There are also some teachers who are generous of spirit and some who are not.
Some teachers have the patience to go through the painstaking, unstinting effort it takes until things can be
fully transmitted. These are very human things that have happened. Many people think that teachers were
very deliberately screwing people when it’s simply not true. The first 100 years of crosscultural transference are
going to be fraught with confusion, misinterpretation and a lot of nonsense. It’s simply because the context of
what’s going on no longer exists. Maybe 100 years on when all these problems are overcome, there’s a context to
fit into. When Chinese people came to the west 30 – 40 years ago to teach there was very little culture of
understanding. Now we have a generation of people who at least have some idea of the background and who are
able to grasp things a lot easier because they have some context to put it in. So where do you see things going in 100 years time? I think that that’s a much larger question and I think we have to even think about whether
human beings will even remain on the face of the earth given population growth and given the human capacity for
mass destruction. Now that we have the capacity to do it, this is a very interesting cultural period. We will have
to see whether wisdom dawns or whether the natural self-destructive influences win-out. If all that
doesn’t happen over the next 100 years, I hope, from what I’m doing, there will be a real thread of something
that will exist here in the West that, if they lose it in China, they can go back and get it in the West. These
are treasures for human beings, to improve the human condition and they’re not Chinese and they’re not Western.
They will, by necessity, be translated by different cultures in very different ways. How do you feel about the creation of Competition Routines that are there for
aesthetic quality? One of the biggest insults you can give to someone in China, who’s a serious Taiji player, is to call it dance. If you
have form competitions participants really should be judged on how well they are doing the internal material in
it. But since most of the people, and most of the judges, don’t know what the internal material is, then you’re
not exactly going to get a very clear read. I can generally tell who’s going to win a competition in the United
States from the very first moment they come on the floor. I simply look at their uniform. The best silks
win – that’s it! It’s useful to have that kind of thing because it gives people the
opportunity to get up in front of the public. They can demonstrate their form which gives them
immense self-confidence and a sense that they’re progressing. All that is fine as long as you’re not foolish
enough to think that that necessarily measures anything. Push Hands competitions are nice to have but honestly and
truly if you’re going to talk about martial arts, at the end of the day there is only one form of competition that
is definitive and that is “two men enter, one man leaves.” In Push Hands you don’t have a clear, definable,
unmistakable who won or who lost result. In fighting you can do that, a knockout is a knockout. Push Hands
does satisfy people’s competitive instincts and gives them a chance to get out there and do something they really
like. It forms some kind of a training ground for the next generation of instructors to cut their teeth
on. Taking away the aesthetic appearance, how nice the silk is or how nice
the form looks, what else can you look for to ascertain if someone is doing ‘good’ Taiji?
What I look for, and what my teachers look for, and what real Taiji masters look
for, is a checklist of about 1,000 things. To list them all would simply be absurd. They first check how much are
you doing and how much aren’t you doing. Then they look at what you’re doing and what level of quality it
is. They are looking at, if it is really full, really strong, are you really connected? is the Qi
really moving? When a good teachercorrects somebody they look for the one thing that is causing
everything else that is attached to it to become weak. Once they identify what that is then they can direct the
student where to go from there.
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