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Is there really such a thing as a juezhao (“ultimate move”) in Chinese
martial arts?
Is there such a
thing as a true gaoshou (“high-level master”)? Many people who
come
into contact with Chinese martial arts ask these questions; many who practice
Chinese
martial arts do so with these goals in mind. However, it seems as if the
goal is never
quite reached and that there never appears a modern
practitioner commonly recognized
as a true master. People doubt
whether these “ultimate moves” really exist at all.
They wonder if it’s
really possible to reach the level attributed to the great masters of
the past. What do we mean by
“ultimate move”? Is there such a thing as a true master?
------------ Of course there is! And yet there shouldn’t be. They do exist within the lore
of each style, and yet there don’t seem to be any around now.
“Divine Spear” Li Shuwen’s “Fierce Tiger Forces its Way Up
the Mountain,”
Wan Laisheng of Liuhe Ziranmen’s “Penetrating the Heavens
Blow,” “The Fanciful
Butterfly,” Chang Dongsheng’s “Quick Drop,” Longfist Master Han Qingtang’s
“Seizing Controlling
Hands,” my own teacher, Wang Songting’s “Iron Forearms,”
Huo Yuanjia of Jingwu’s “Lost Tracks Technique…” All of them are admired by later
generations as true masters, and later generations have competed to master all these
“ultimate techniques.” But if we look back at these miraculous techniques, we find
they are all simple to the point they seem utterly
ordinary. If they hadn’t been used
by these predecessors of ours, I guarantee you’d hardly even believe these moves were
Chinese martial arts at all. “Fierce Tiger Forces its Way Up the Mountain,” is just to
punches and an elbow. “Pierce the Heavens Blow” is just a deflect and counter
punch.
“Quick Drop” means throwing the opponent as soon as you lay
hands on him, and
“Iron Forearms” is just locking the opponent between two
circle arms, one horizontal.
“Seizing Controlling Hands” means to grab and control the opponent as soon as you
touch. You see how simple and unremarkable they seem! But don’t
forget, these are
the true “ultimate techniques” of the great
masters!
Do
you believe in these “ultimate techniques”? Do you believe in fantastic abilities
that will make you
invincible? These kinds of abilities are found only in fantasy movies,
and I dare not believe in this kind of technique. Though I enjoy watching movies,
they are still just movies, filled with exaggeration and illusion, while martial arts are
always the hard reality of a fist. So, to be more realistic, why don’t we just practice
the real “ultimate techniques” of great masters of the past? Unfortunately, I’m not a great
master of the past and have no way to copy their experiences. After all, teaching martial
artists isn’t like working a copy machine where once you have one real example you can
just churn out a heap of identical masters. In this case, it seems as if there are no true
masters or
“ultimate techniques.” But we mustn’t take it too far. If there was no such
thing as a true master or their best
moves, then Chinese martial arts wouldn’t have been
passed down to
us to this day. Do you want to find your own “ultimate technique”?
Do you want to be a “true master”? I believe you do, and we shouldn’t hide our desire
for this. To be perfectly honest with myself, I know I’m dying to find my own “ultimate
technique.” If you feel the same way I do, then lets explore together the possibility of
finding these techniques and becoming real masters.
Within
Chinese martial arts is a training paradigm known as “small achievement in
three years, middle achievement in five and great achievement in ten.” But this doesn’t
mention anything about achieving divine
abilities or true mastery. Does that take 180
years? If that were the case then Chinese martial arts would not have been passed down
to this day. After all, it’s not possible for a human to live 180 years
to learn a technique
and then another 180 to pass it on. And yet the world is full of martial arts and artists,
many calling themselves masters. Many stick out their fists and vibrate their bodies,
hoping they can copy the famous masters of the past by imitating the look of their
movement. Others spend twenty years to learn how to hold the horse
stance for eight
hours. These two are extremes, but you’d be surprised at the number of people who
really
believe in them!
What
does “small achievement in three years, middle
achievement in five and great
achievement in ten” mean? Rather
than thinking of it as time, it is
better to think of it as
a guide to the proper proportions of training. Three
plus five plus ten equals eighteen.
By the
time a child reaches eighteen years of age he should be an adult. These
eighteen
years of education are a necessary and inevitable process. Three
years of basic training,
five
years of understanding and ten of experience. This
proportion is also known as
“practice 3, think 5, search 10.” Of
course, these numbers will vary according to the
specific abilities of the
student, but the
proportions will not be far off. So what
are we
supposed to practice, think about and search for? The
millennia of Chinese martial
experience have already produced systematic,
scientific methods of instruction. Though
the content of different styles diverges, the basic
training paradigm is similar.
What
is it that we practice? This
process is the “small achievement in three years,”
which is
also the most difficult and yet the most important phase. If you
look at the
various styles, you’ll
see they are each complete unto themselves. Keep in
mind this
stage isn’t the kind of health-maintenance routine you see
people performing in the park
each morning. Everyone
who’s practiced or been exposed to Chinese martial arts will
have
encountered “standing stake” (Zhan Zhuang) stretching,
“splitting the legs,”
“holding the tripod,” “lower the hips,” and other
such basic training methods. Each
style
requires that the method of throwing a punch, kicking, switching
the footwork, using
the waist and many others be polished in detail. This part
of the training is the most
physically demanding, in order
to perfect the underlying structure. It can be
neither
leisurely nor hurried. This is
the seed that will grow into martial arts ability. During
this
period, the number of forms should be limited. Most
styles will not exceed ten, in order
to make the form clean and polished. At this
point, we can say Chinese martial arts have
created something like an embryo. It has
bones, flesh and skin. The only
things it lacks
are a soul and a mind.
Therefore, this cannot yet be considered complete martial arts,
but rather its
seed. As for
how to imbue the newly-formed body with a soul, this
requires
us to formally enter the ‘think” phase of training.
To
think: think about what? This is the “five years for middle achievement” stage.
One of
the most passionate subjects for those who study Chinese martial arts is the
forms.
People
love them; people hate them; people are mystified by them. What do
they love?
They love the seamless combination of power and beauty. What do
they hate? They hate
the very same unique way in which they mix martial arts with the
flavor of an artistic
performance. Just as
the one who carries jade is more likely to be robbed, Chinese
martial art forms have been denounced, mocked
and ridiculed as “useless relics,” and the
arts they represent are called “flower fists and embroidery legs”—only for
performance.
Actually,
we shouldn’t blame them for this attitude. We have
only to look at the many
modern-day Chinese martial artists who practice for ten or
twenty years and still think of
the forms as useless. So are
Chinese martial arts forms actually useful? If the
way you
practice stays forever at the surface level of a recitation from rote, you will
be forever
wracking your brains to remember the forms
in a vain hope you will one day understand
them. Though
your forms may reach the level of a perfectly beautiful performance, you
will,
in fact, be the slave of the forms. Putting
aside Chinese martial arts for a moment,
think of
how many poems or essays you may have been required to memorize and recite
in
the past. Why is it
that we seem to forget the vast majority? Because
it’s been too long
since you went back and memorized them again. Forms are
the same way. If your
method of practice is stuck at the rote memorization level, then just
remembering
a single form in detail is enough to give you a headache. Without
thinking you’ll leave
out a move or skip a posture. Spending
so much energy remembering which move
comes next in the form, how can
you pay attention to its content and technique?
Memorizing each form with such great difficulty, can’t
even think of the over 100
exquisitely detailed forms that still wait. If you
try to remember even two or three forms
this way, you will
end up spending all your time trying to remember which
move was
next and how to execute that move correctly, making
you the eternal slave of the form.
This kind
of form isn’t “flower fists and embroidery legs.” It isn’t
even a “useless relic.”
All we can call it is an empty shell. And yet
some take these shells, attach a
fancy title
and trick themselves into believing they’ve achieved mastery, blaming
only the
ignorance of those “common” folks who can’t comprehend their “divine
skills.”
It is
like a child succeeding in learning his multiplication tables, labeling
himself a genius
and then proceeding to inform all the
adults that they don’t understand real mathematics.
We have
to think more. You have to use your brain to practice Chinese martial arts.
Even when
lifting a heavy object we use our brains to make minor calculations as to how
to
do it; how to
get the best effect with the least effort. How much more, then
should we
be using our brains when practicing something as complex as martial
arts? If your
conception of martial arts training is nothing more than strenuous physical
conditioning,
then you
might as well just shut your brain off, since you won’t be using it.
But
how do you train your brain? Are there moves? Don’t
keep thinking in terms of
the multiplication tables. We’re
moving onto Calculus here! Chinese
martial arts consist
of the seamless blending of the four methods of attack: dian
(pressure point strike),
da (strike), shuai (throw) and na
(grapple). They each
complement and compensate for
one another so that missing just one of them
the arts become incomplete. During
the
“three years to small achievement” phase, the
teacher will not only gradually instruct
the student in the moves of the forms, the
requirements of the footwork, the
degrees
of advance and retreat and the mechanics of power release, but, even
more importantly,
he will
explain to the student the application of each move in the form; its
strategic
importance, how it might be used to throw or to grapple, how it
could be used for attack
or defense, how it
might be used as a strike or a pressure point attack. Learning
in this
manner, the student doesn’t learn the form as an empty string of moves. Rather,
he always has the concept of attacking or defending against an imaginary
opponent.
Nevertheless, the form is still lifeless at this point. It is a
string of moves born of the
experiences of teachers of the past, but it is
still an empty shell without a soul of its own.
Therefore, once
you’ve entered into the “five years to middle achievement” level,
you need
to give the form a life of its own by imbuing it with your own spirit.
When you
give the form a soul of its own you may figure out how to
use an attack to
defend or a defense to attack, to change
a strike into a joint lock or a throw.
Only by
switching around the contexts, making
the goals clear and molding the form to
your own way of
thinking does it truly come to life. And yet
when you look at the
variations in one form of Chen Taiji—Old Frame, New
Frame, Zhaobao Frame,
Hulei Frame; there are
still many people who bicker and debate constantly over which
is the best, real,
authentic form. The
reason these people debate this is because they’re
stuck at phase one in their
training. Of course
they don’t understand the variations,
because
the variations are products of phases two and three. During
the second phase,
the teacher continues to explain and
answer questions but also starts to take on more
of a coaching role. Though
the outward appearance of the forms will not change much,
the
content will undergo a metamorphosis due to changing perspectives and goals.
The
teacher should encourage this metamorphosis, while
continuing to evaluate the level
of the techniques, and the
validity of the strategies, not
allowing the student to fall into
the trap of splitting hairs or
getting hung up on one particular issue too long.
Many
students complain that teachers will always hold a little bit of information
back.
But in
reality, what kind of teacher doesn’t want his students to succeed, even to
surpass
himself? A teacher
that won’t allow his students to surpass him is
one who has already
taken a step backwards himself. How in
this kind of situation can he hope to train a true
master? All this
kind of teacher accomplishes is to turn his own style into a graveyard.
Towards
the end of this five-year training period, the forms
should start to have a life
and spirit of their own, breaking
out of their seeds and starting to grow. There are
no
more absolutes or rigid interpretations. The
strategy changes fluidly depending on the
situation. The
emotions and the mind move in time with the body. At this
point,
the punch is no longer just a punch and even fancy-looking moves can no
longer be
described as “flower fists and embroidery legs.” Though it
still takes the form of
a prescribed series of movements, the
quality is more akin to a life-or-death duel.
The
completion of the “five years to middle achievement” is where Chinese martial
arts
really begins. And how
do we begin? By entering the third phase, “search.”
So
what are we supposed to search for? This is
the phase known as “ten years to
great achievement.” This is
the time during which you create and practice a complete
Chinese martial art. Ten years
certainly sounds like a long time. But keep
in mind,
the “ten years” here doesn’t really refer to a time period, but
rather is a way of saying
“forever.” This phase is the loneliest, but also the
most rich. It is
lonely because at this
point, you are
the only one who can help yourself. It is
rich because there are now
countless forms and
styles out there just waiting for you to make them your own.
Many
people have asked me: how can one person have learned 300 different forms?
If you
rely on just rote memorization, of course, it is impossible. If it is
just to increase
the figure, then it is wholly unnecessary. So why
then would anyone want to study 300
forms? It’s all
been in search of just one complete Mantis form. And why
do I want to
find a complete Mantis form? To find
the one punch that belongs to me. Many old
masters have said, “it’s not
the number of moves that counts—just one good move is
enough.” But this
single move is nonetheless the culmination of thousands of moves, the
accumulation of decades of experience. “Fierce
Tiger Forces its Way Up the Mountain,”
“Penetrating the Heavens Blow,” “Quick
Drop,” “Seizing Controlling Hands” and “Iron
Forearms” are all this way. However,
if I gave you one hundred years to try and imitate
these moves, and you
spent the whole time practicing these moves alone, you would
end up never mastering them in your life. Can you
do one truly complete Praying Mantis
form? Have you
mastered one complete, perfect punch? I feel
foolish that I still haven’t
mastered it to this day. The
reason I can’t complete a Mantis form is because I don’t
want to become stagnant or take a step backwards. I can’t
throw a perfect punch because
I don’t believe in “absolutes” or “ultimates.” No matter
if it is Mantis, Shaolin or any
other style, some
think they’ve already mastered it. Some feel
they already can do the
unbeatable moves of the masters of the past. If it’s
true then they are to be congratulated.
Such knowledge is very rare. People
have asked me before: why is the tuition for some
of your classes so high? For
example, the complete qinna course is listed at a price of
several hundred
dollars. My answer
is very simple. First: shouldn’t Chinese martial arts
be so expensive, so
valuable? Second:
you’d be better off not taking the course!
(To want
to take a course on only qinna is based on a misconception, because
Chinese
martial arts must be taught as a whole). Third,
the poor teachers out there teaching
qinna for free because “real teachers don’t
charge tuition” can
follow my example and
no longer be forced to go hungry holding a golden rice
bowl!
Do
you believe in ultimate techniques or do you
just want to learn how to throw
that one perfect punch? Time
certainly waits for no man. We all
have a tendency to use
“tomorrow” as an excuse for what we could accomplish
today. We
procrastinate and
use up our time on trivial matters. I myself
have been so absorbed in the work of my
video editing, I hardly
noticed the arrival of 2006! Maybe
you’re also waiting for
tomorrow to do what you really need to do, just like
I waited to start Kung-fu Loung
until I felt I couldn’t do otherwise. I used to
wait for tomorrow, but I won’t anymore.
After all
those times I waited for it, it never once stayed behind to wait for me…
Author
: Porf Jou
in Kungfu Loung Taipei 2006. 9. 11
Translator :
K. C. Schoenberger in
University of Yale U.S.A. |
