Saturday, January 19, 2019

What is Important in Chen Taijiquan and What is Not

Author's Notes:
This has been bothering me a lot. It's been several years since I wrote this. In that time, through teaching, research and constant practice I've discovered that I was wrong about a lot of things. Following my rules for deciphering applications has shown me that in order for an application to work it must be done exactly like the form. Therefore it is vital that the form be done correctly. This is part of the intricacies of Chen Taijiquan; perfecting the form reveals the applications and performing the applications helps correct the form. 

Rather than delete or rewrite the entire post, I'm going to strike through the mistakes and then correct them in italics. My hope is that the reader will appreciate that the study of Chen Taijiquan is a life long journey and not dwell on my failings.

Revision:

When you see Chen Taijiquan practitioners demonstrating their form, whether in person or on video, one of the first things you will notice that almost all of them do parts of certain postures differently. That includes the 4 current Grandmasters (Chen Xiaowang, Chen Zhenglei, Zhu Tiancai, and Wang Xian). I discussed in a previous article why this was: personal expression, physical and psychological type, and so on. In this article, I want to explore another reason for this perceived difference between practitioners; simply that some aspects of a given posture are vitally important to perform properly and some, quite frankly are not. So just  how do you tell what is important when performing a movement and what isn’t? The Grandmasters have their own reasons for teaching the form the way they do and far be it from me to try to explain what those may be. Instead I will focus on the teaching of Grandmaster Chen Xiowang whose lineage I follow. 

The key to determining what is important and or not in a posture requires an understanding of the movement’s application. As most practitioners of Chen Taijiquan know, every posture has an application. There are no “transition” or “flowery” movements. To decipher and understand applications however, it is essential to have mastered the routine (taolu). When I asked my teachers in China about applications, they all said, “Concentrate on perfecting the routine  first”. I like to say “the truth of the application is found in the taolu”. The genius of Chen Wangting and succeeding generations is that they hid the answerers in plain sight. The old method of teaching is the correct one. One must master the form for an application to work and therefore it must be done exactly like the posture in the taolu.

That being said, there are some parts of a posture that are not that critical As we shall see this is not correct. Many students, especially in the West believe that there is only one right way to do a movement and any variation is wrong This assumes that they are being taught the form correctly. While there is some room for individual variation, the correct fundamentals must be followed).This contradicts the concept of Yin/Yang which is one of the foundations of Chen Taijiquan. According to Yin/Yang theory, something can partially Yin and Yang at the same time. Although the theory is vast and complicated, for the purposes of this article we simply  need to be understood that something can be both “correct” and “incorrect” simultaneously. A discussion for another time, not relevant here.

Such an example is “Six Sealings, Four Closings”. When bringing the left hand towards the right, some teach that the palm should be facing up, some facing down, and some that it should be facing inward. Which one is correct? It doesn’t matter. These variables all depend on the incoming attack. Against a shoulder height attack, it may be better to turn the palm upwards. Against a chest height attack, a palm inward position might be better. Against a low level attack, a palm down position is the only viable option. The correct answer is palm up. Following the rules of deciphering applications, the attack in this version of Six Sealings is a grab of the right wrist. Therefore it is essential that the left hand be held palm as it reaches for the right wrist. It also doesn’t matter the height of the hands when doing the push. Low, middle, high: all are valid depending on he position of the opponent. If the lu or pulling downward part of the application is preformed correctly, the opponent will be bent over at the level of your waist. Therefore the push should end at your waist level in line with your hip. Granted you may have to adapt your level depending on your opponent reaction e.g. standing up quickly, generally speaking, in practice your push should end at waist/hip level)So which hand position should you practice when doing taolu? It really doesn’t matter. Pick one and stick with it. I show my students my preferred way of holding the left hand and height of the push but if they choose a different position, I don’t correct them. I show them the implications of each hand position and then let them decide which they prefer. Sometimes even I do them differently depending on what feels the most natural at the time. This could be confusing for the students but because they understand why the position may change, they have a lot more confidence that they are doing the movement correctly. This was a mistake. I now insist that the move be done at waist level every time. 

Below you can see Master Chen Xiaoxing performing the movement slightly differently. I will certainly concede to his far greater knowledge and mastery. The difference is rather small and may indeed not be that important. However I can only speak of what I have discovered for myself. 

Grandmaster Chen Xiaoxing performing Six Sealings, Four Closings


What is vitally important in this case however is the movement of the left or attacking hand. It must use Reeling Silk to spirally twist the opponent’s hand while the right hand guides the elbow downward. Without the Reeling Silk energy you are going to be dragging the opponent’s arm downward which can be easily countered. With the proper application of Reeling Silk energy however, the unbalancing is almost effortless. Therefore there can be no compromise in the use of Reeling Silk energy. Unfortunately, most beginners have not gotten to the level where the use of the energy becomes instinctual. Therefore, more practice in the basic Reeling Silk exercises and the taolu forms are critical. This is what my teachers always said and I now finally understand why.

Other variations can be observed when watching videos of the four Grandmasters. One can be seen in “Single Whip”. When stepping out with his left leg, Grandmaster Chen Zhenglei shifts his weight all the way to his left before shifting it back to his right and then back to the left again in coordination with the left hand. This double weight shift is what I call “The Bump”. Grandmaster Chen Xiaowang does not do this. As he steps left, his weight remains on his right until it shifts left with his left hand. This was the way I was trained to perform the movement. My apprentice, on the other hand, comes from GM Chen Zhenglei’s lineage and was taught “The Bump” from the beginning of her training. After many arguments, I finally realized that both were correct. It is my belief that the weight shift left is a kao or strike with the hip. The kao can be applied with “The Bump” or without. I believe that GM Chen Zhenglei has, for whatever reason, chosen to emphasize that movement while GM Chen Xiaowang prefers to leave it implied. In my own practice I have not found it necessary as going directly to the weight shift is sufficient and quicker. Of course, without speaking to each of the Grandmasters we’ll never know for sure but based on my very limited knowledge, I believe both methods are can be equally valid. Therefore I no longer correct my apprentice when she does “The Bump” and we are all much happier. (Note; in a video from the early 1980's, GM Chen Xiaowang can be seen doing this variation. However, I have never seen another video of him performing “The Bump” so I feel confident performing it the way I remember being taught.)

So how are you supposed to deal with these apparent inconsistencies? It is impossible for a beginner to decide what part of a movement is vital and which is not and it is a great mistake to try and do so. There are so many levels of Chen Taijiquan that trying go too deep too soon will lead disappointment and frustration. As always, your teacher is your guide, provided of course that you are learning from a competent instructor. You must trust that your teacher will guide you step by step. Some teachers may not choose to discuss subjects like this with beginners, fearing that they will only confuse them.  As can be seen, there is really only one way to do a movement correctly. This consistency will build confidence. Unfortunately in my own teaching, research and discovery often lead me to change things slightly. While this may frustrate students initially, in the end it will be to their betterment. This is certainly valid. A beginner has enough to do simply learning to perform the movements in the proper order. You have to trust that your teacher has a deeper understanding of the art and will reveal things when they believe you are ready for them. Concentrate on learning the forms exactly as your teacher does them and don’t worry about possible future variations.

That being said, I personally like to give my students as much information as possible to enrich their knowledge, show them the depth of Chen Taijiquan. When I learn something new, I personally immerse myself in the subject and try to use all possible resources. I’d like to think my students do the same but in reality, most of them are quite happy to just follow along and not worry about the bigger picture. I know that I tend to over teach but  I believe that being aware that there are valid variations can relieve some of the anxiety that comes with learning the form while trying to do each movement perfectly. I also hope to plant seeds of knowledge that I hope will bloom when the student is ready. So while I encourage them to do their own research there is so much information available via the internet, that this can easily create more questions than it answers. I try to prepare them for what variations they might see; what performances are closest to what I teach, and what are straight up mistakes and/or frauds. While it is fun for me to see all the different variations out there, in the end, most of them give up.

Of course, not all movements contain viable variations. For most they must be performed in the strictest possible manner. There a few movements however that are open to interpretation. It is useful for teachers to know what these may be so that students don’t become overly rigid either physically or mentally. While there can be some variation and adaptation, especially for body type and physical condition, most variations in forms practice should generally rather minute. As I have said, form practice will reveal the applications and the applications will improve your form. After all, Chen Taijiquan is all about being natural and spontaneous. Knowing that occasionally there some movements that are legitimately variable can make for a more relaxed learning experience for both the teacher and student. While Chen Taijiquan is about being natural, one will be very unnatural at first. It is only after a long time of diligent practice in the correct movements of the form will one be able to move to the next level.  

Thursday, January 3, 2019

Why Does Everyone Do Chen Taijiquan Differently?


Follow the rules but be flexible in applying them, and remember, nothing is absolute.” Chen Shaoxing.

In the West, our system of logic teaches us that something is either A or B, correct or incorrect and that it cannot be both. However, traditional Chinese philosophy teaches that something can be partly A and partly B simultaneously. This is seen in the theory of Yin/Yang. In the West, many people believe that Yin and Yang are polar opposites- dark or bright, soft or hard, heavy or light, female or male. In reality, Yin and Yang are infinitely divisible. Each contains part of the other within it. Therefore there is Yin within Yang and Yang within Yin in varying degrees. When one attains complete fullness, it transforms into the other. The theory of Yin/Yang is central to the make up of Chen Taijiquan. Today we want to focus on a practical application of that theory when practicing the forms of Chen Taijiquan. How to tell whether what you are being  taught is correct and why so many practitioners do the forms differently.

Many Western Chen Taijiquan students have been taught to believe that there is only one correct way to do the movements in a given routine. Fortunately or unfortunately, this is not the case. For the dedicated student who want to learn as much about the art as possible, using resources like books or videos can often cause more confusion than clarity. A quick survey of Chen Taijiquan videos on YouTube will reveal that almost every practitioner does things differently. Your teacher may do some movements differently. Does that mean he is right and the others are wrong or is it the other way around?

Answering this question can be more complicated that it seems. If you compare videos of the four living Grandmasters- Chen Xiaowang, Chen Zhenglei, Zhu Tiancai, and Wang Xian - you will see that each one of them does many of the movements very differently from the others. Which Grandmaster is correct? Should I follow my teacher’s instructions or copy the way a Grandmaster? And which Grandmaster should I follow.

Even more confounding is that if you compare past and present videos of a given Grandmaster, you will see that they often did movements very differently in the past. This begs the question;  if they were doing the movements correctly in the past, why did thy change them? If they were not doing them correctly back then, does that mean that they were practicing and teaching them incorrectly for most of their career? And what about their more recent videos? Are they performing the movements differently now because they corrected their mistakes or is it simply because they are older? Furthermore, what time period should I be studying? Should I imitate a Grandmasters older videos or the newest ones?

The simple answer to these questions is that they are all correct. All of the current Grandmasters studied under the same teacher, Chen Zhaopei, who reportedly refused to advance a student to the next movement until they had mastered the current one. Some Grandmasters remember having to practice a movement for up to six months before Chen Zhaopei was satisfied with their performance. Why then do they all do the movements differently? The answer is because at its highest level, Chen Taijiquan is a form of self-expression. Each Grandmaster’s journey has been different and their personal style reflects that. What you are seeing is the result of their personal development, the culmination of a life time of practice, growth and insight. Merely trying to copy them is pointless.

When performing the routines, each Grandmaster tends to emphasize movements and qualities that they believe are the most important and therefore each will emphasize something different. They also perform in a way that is most suitable for their personality and body type. Compare Grandmaster Chen Xiaowang and Chen Zhenglei for example. Chen Xiaowang has a powerful build. His movements are simple and clean with no extraneous movements. His fajin movements are explosive. Grandmaster Chen Zhenglei on the other hand has a slimmer build. His movements are elegant and beautiful to watch, His fajin movements are like a whip cracking. Each is expressing their own inner selves. The difference in their personalities can easily be seen in their calligraphy- Chen Xiaowang uses broad powerful strokes that produce striking compositions, while Chen Zhenglei’s characters are firm yet elegant and reveal an unbending inner strength. So which of them is correct? Of course the answer is that they both are. The question that you should be asking is which one’s style is right for you?



Of course, you may not have a choice. Your teacher may be the only one in the area or may be doing a style that is not the best for your personality or body type. In the beginning it is best not to worry about these issues But how do you know if you are learning the movements correctly? The honest answer is that in the beginning you can’t. The movements are so complicated that you simply have to trust your teacher. The first stage of Chen Taijiquan practice is to learn the entire routine from beginning to end and do the individual movements as best you can. Assuming that your teacher is properly trained and knowledgeable, it is best to simply follow his or her teaching exactly A good teacher will make sure a given movement is basically correctly before advancing you to the following movement.

Of course, it doesn’t hurt to take advantage of some of the useful resources that are available. Take a look at some YouTube videos. You have the combined teachings of the greatest practitioners in the world at your fingertips. To get the most out of these videos you first have to make sure you are looking at the right routine. Chen Taijiquan has two routines done in two very different ways. There is the First Form Old Frame (Laojia Yilu) and the Second From Old Frame (Laojia Erlu). The First and Second Form are also done in the New Frame method (Xinjia Yilu and Xinjia Erlu). The second form is also often called Cannon Fist whether in the Old or New Frame (laojia erlu paochui or xinjia erlu paochui). The Old Frame and New Frame look quite a bit different from each other so make sure you know which form you are watching to avoid further confusion.

There are also many shorter forms- 18 Movements, 19 Movements, 32 Movements, 56 Movements. Many of these were developed to make Chen Taijiquan accessible to those that don’t have the time or ability to practice the complete forms. Also many are used in Tai Chi competitions. Tai Chi competitors use deeper stances and more elaborate arm movements. They may look very different from what you are learning but unless you are planning to enter competitions, stick with studying the traditional forms.

Be aware that there are also quite a few fakes and charlatans out there. Once you’ve accounted for the variables listed above, if what you are doing doesn’t remotely resemble what the top traditional teachers are presenting, you might be studying with the wrong teacher. Chen Taijiquan is still rare enough that many people don’t know what it looks like and some folks out there will take advantage of people’s ignorance. I encourage my students to look at other teachers and will often explain the differences they are likely to see. My knowledge and performance are no where near the level of a Grandmaster but I vow to my students that what I’m teaching is authentic. I also constantly review the available teachings to make sure that I am giving my students the best information I can.

I learned Chen Taijiquan at the Chen Taijiquan School in Chenjiaguo in 1988. The school has always been administered by Chen Xiaowang’s brother Chen Xiaoxing. I also studied privately with one of Chen Xiaowang’s top disciples. After I returned to America however, I was on my own. Since Chen Taijiquan was so rare at the time, I was never able to find another instructor. Before YouTube came about, I was lucky to find some Chen Taijiquan DVD’s featuring Chen Zhenglei and I immediately bought them. As I watched them however, I was confused. Many of the movements were performed very differently than I remembered. I assumed the differences were due to my poor memory. However, when I tried to practice them, they just didn’t feel right. Had I been doing things wrong all these years? With the advent of YouTube, I was able to find some videos of Chen Xiaowang. His performances were much more the way I remembered but there were still some confusing differences. Eventually I came across a video of Chen Xiaowang performing in 1984 and to my surprise and relief, saw that he was doing the forms exactly the way I had learned them. I realized that over the years (in which he also was without a teacher) changes had naturally come about as he reached deeper levels of understanding on his own. To understand what he had changed over the years and why, one would have to study directly under him for an extended period of time. So I usually tell my students that we are traveling back in time to 1988 when I learned the form. I’m sure as my knowledge and insight continue and grow, the form I teach ten years from now may look very different from what I teach now.

Though I am from the lineage of Chen Xiaowang and find that his way of performing the movements suits me, I also understand that each of the other Grandmaster’s methods are equally valid. My apprentice began her studies under one of Chen Zhenglei’s top students, Yue Liming, who is also slim and elegant in his movements. She is much more suited to their way of performing the movements than to Chen Xiaowang’s. In her own practice, I do not try to force her to do things the way I do. I encourage her to perform the  movements the way she was taught. I view my duty as trying to help her reach the deeper levels of Chen Taijiquan practice. As far as my students go, I pass on to them what I was originally taught, along with whatever insights I may have gained along the way. Ultimately, I know that if they continue on their Chen Taijiquan journey, they will one day reach a point when their practice will become a form of self-expression which may end up looking very different from what I originally taught them.This is the extraordinary beauty of Chen Taijiquan. Ultimately, these differences don’t really matter.

So does this mean that there is no right or wrong in Chen Taijiquan and everyone can do whatever they want? No, it’s actually just the opposite. In the beginning, you must follow the rules exactly; proper posture, proper stances, complete relaxation, flowing from one movement to the next, etc. You should have faith in your teacher and follow his or her instruction even if this means that you will be making the same mistakes that he or she makes. Mistakes are unavoidable and a teacher can only teach what they know. However, a superior teacher will constantly be correcting and refining their abilities and understanding. They should freely pass that knowledge on to you and encourage you to investigate other instructors and teachings. A superior teacher should also have a good understanding of what is important in a given movement and what is not and be tolerant of small variations that are ultimately unimportant. This can relieve some of the pressure of striving to be perfect all the time. I will discuss this concept in the next blog entry.

As we can see then, performance of the movements in Chen Taijiquan can be both correct and incorrect at the same time. A solid understanding of the concept Yin and Yang can help in understanding your own practice of Chen Taijiquan and that of others as well. Know the rules and follow them and you will be able to understand why everybody does Chen Taijiquan a little bit differently.

Sunday, October 21, 2018

The True History of Taijiquan


T’ai Chi vs. Taijiquan

First of all it is important to know the meaning of the term Taijiquan. To understand, we have to look at the name of the art itself and how it has been rendered into English. Chinese characters are pictographs and there is no alphabet to indicated how a character is pronounced so rendering the sounds into English can be problematic. Chinese also contains many characters with the same pronunciation distinguished only by tone. Transliteration will only provide the pronunciation for the sound of a character not its meaning. Therefore, one can not be truly sure what word is actually meant unless one can see the actual character being used. Most people today use the Pinyin system of transliteration  developed in China in the 1950's. With a little practice, it is a much better guide to pronunciation. In Pinyin, the name of the Chen Family Martial Art would be written Taijiquan ( tie - gee - chan). In the West however, it is most often written as “Tai Chi Chuan”. This spelling uses the Wade-Giles system of transliteration which is rarely used by scholars anymore. According to that system, the pronunciation is the same as in Mandarin Chinese, “Taijiquan” but looks different because of the rather odd Wade-Giles spelling conventions.  Unfortunately this was the spelling that was used when Taiji was first introduced to the West so it is the  spelling most people know. It is therefore still used today. The problem is that most people aren’t familiar with the rules of the Wade-Giles system and tend to mispronounce it as Tai Qi (tai chee) confusing the word Chi (ji/gee) “ultimate”  with Ch’i (Qi/chee) “vital energy”.

Taiji is a Daoist concept. “Tai” means “great or grand”. Ji means “ultimate” or is sometimes translated as “ridgepole”. It is one of the main concepts in Daoist cosmology. According to Daoism, first there was the Wuji or Great Nothingness, the Void, the Primordial Chaos. From this emptiness arose the One, the Grand Ultimate, or Great Ridgepole. Taiji can seen as the potential for all things; energy, matter, movement. life, etc. From the One, emerged the Two; Yin and Yang, the complementary opposites of dark and light, earth and heaven, heaviness and lightness, male and female, heaven and earth. Yin and Yang are not fixed, unchanging opposites however. As each reaches fullness, it begins to change gradually into the other. All things are infinitely divisible into Yin and Yang.

Therefore we can see that the term Taiji has nothing to do with the martial arts. That is where the Quan part comes in. Quan or “fist” is usually used to denote a martial art. Traditionally martial arts were often known as Quanfa or “boxing” although today Wugong (martial skill) or Wushu (martial art)is more often used. Therefore Quan added to Taiji indicates that is now a martial art, the “Grand Ultimate Fist”. In the West, it is often shortened to just Taiji (T’ai Chi) for ease of pronunciation. It is the implied “quan” that indicates that we are talking about the martial art and not the Daoist cosmology. In Chinese there is no such confusion because the martial art is always called Taijiquan because it is understood that Taiji is the Daoist concept and not a martial art.

The founding of Taijiquan: What we know.

There is the argument that Taijiquan began at the temple on Wudang Mountain in Hubei Provence. We will discuss that in the next blog post. However, the Chen family credit Chen Bu the first of their clan to move to a small village that later became known as Chenjiaguo (literally “Chen Family Ditch”), a part of Wenxian county in Henan province. Chen Bu, is said to have been a skilled martial artist who practiced external forms of martial art known as Tongbei and Changquan (Long Fist). Both are Shaolin based forms and are still practiced today. However the first written reference to the art we now know as Taijiquan has been traced back by Chinese scholars to the 1600's. It was then that a former Ming Dynasty General and garrison commander Chen Wangting (1580 - 1660) a 9th generation of the Chen Family clan developed a martial art that later became known as Chen Taijiquan.

Interestingly, Chen Wangting did not actually invent the movements or postures in his new martial art. The postures are based on martial arts movements found in the book “The 32 Forms of the Canon of Boxing” by Qi Jiguang (d. 1587). The Canon of Boxing was a survey of various martial arts in existence at the time. All the arts surveyed were highly influenced by the Shaolin Temple. The Temple, which is often considered the birthplace of external style Chinese martial arts, is not far from Chenjiaguo. Its martial arts were a huge influence in China in general and would certainly been dominant in the Henan area.  Research shows that the Chen sets contained twenty-nine of the thirty-two postures found in Canon of Boxing. The Canon of Boxing begins with the postures “Lazily Tying Clothes” and “Single Whip” as did all seven original Chen sets The signature movement of Chen Taijiquan -  Buddha’s Warrior Attendant Pounds the Mortar ( Jin Gang Dao Dui) is found in several Shaolin forms. Furthermore, there is no art name Taijiquan mentioned. This clearly helps us date the beginning of Chen Taijiquan. Since it uses movements from a variety of martial arts, it is unlikely that it could have existed before the Canon of Boxing was published.

Since the martial arts of the time were external Shaolin based forms, Chen Taijiquan’s Daoist influence is remarkable. A poem written by Chen Wangting contains the following:

“Now I only have the Classic of the Yellow Palace (huangting jing) to accompany me.
In times of leisure I invent martial arts,
In times of activity I farm the fields,
And teach my children and grandchildren to be strong and healthy to meet life’s expediencies.” (2)

The Huangting Jing is a seminal Daoist text from the 2nd century. It contains many Qigong and meditative exercises and is said to be part of the Nourishing Life (yangsheng) tradition. That Chen Wangting would spend so much time studying this ancient Daoist work, and mention it in a poem demonstrates his obviously deep connection to Daoist philosophy.

Originally, Chen Taijiquan was made up of five empty hand forms, one set of Long Fist (changquan- 108 movements) and one set of Cannon Fist (paochui) along with weapon sets for most, if not all, of the 18 traditional Chinese weapons. Although the movements in the routines were Shaolin based hard style techniques, Chen Wanting is credited with creating an unique martial arts system by adding concepts based on Daoist philosophy and internal energy practices. He added the concepts of Daoyin (dynamic Qigong) and Tuna (meditative breathing exercises), incorporated concepts from Chinese Medicine, and made prominent the Daoist concept of Yin/Yang. Observing the movement of Qi in the body, he developed the concept of chansijing or reeling silk energy; moving the Qi in spiral patterns to increase the effectiveness of the grappling movements found in the form. He also created the tuisho (push hands) exercise to teach the concepts of sensitivity and stickiness so that the techniques could be practiced safely.

For many generations the art was taught only in the Chen Village. Over the years it went through changes and refinements. Chen Changxing (1771 - 1853, 14th Generation) a 14th condensed the original five routines into two; the First Routine (yilu) and the Second Routine (erlu) also know as Cannon Fist (paochui). These routines are still practiced today and are virtually unchanged from the 1800's. It is also at this time that the first known outsider was able to learn the Chen Family martial art. Yang Luchan, a native of Hubei, went to the Chen Village to learn Taijiquan. He eventually moved to Beijing and began to teach Chen Taijiquan openly. We will discuss Yang Luchan and his legacy in another blog post.

Around 1900, Chen Xin (1849-1929, 16th Generation) spent twelve years of his life writing “The Illustrated Canon of Chen Family Taijiquan”. This book, which is still available today in both Chinese and English, described both the theory and practice of the martial art. He includes sections concerning the relationship of Chen Taijiquan to the Yijing (Book of Changes) as well as the flow of internal energy and the theory of Yin/Yang. Also included are detailed descriptions of many of the key movements of the two routines complete with line drawings. While not an easy book to read, it contains the core of Chen Taijiquan and is an essential reference for all advanced practitioners.

The next major change came with Chen Fake (1887-1957, 17th Generation). He made changes to the original routines highlighting the spiral Qi movements of Silk Reeling energy which were much less apparent previously. This made the forms easier to learn and understand for beginners. In addition to changing some of the intentions and applications of some movements, he also added a few, increasing the total of the 1st Routine from 75 to 81. The new routines eventually came to be known as the New Frame (xinjia) while the original two are called the Old Frame (Laojia). Chen Fake taught mainly in Beijing and became very well known and respected in the martial arts community.

Chen Fake taught the new routines to his children including his youngest son Chen Zhaokui (1928 - 1981, 18th Generation). Born in Beijing, in 1973 he returned to Chenjiaguo and began teaching the New Frame routines to the next generation of practitioners.

Perhaps the most influential teacher and promoter of Chen Taijiquan was Chen Zhaopi (1893 -1972, 18th Generation).  Zhaopi, also known as Jifu, was an accomplished practitioner of the Old Frame and taught openly in many places in China. He wrote several books on the art and returned to the Chen Village in 1958. By all accounts a generous and patient instructor, he was the primary teacher of the four Grandmasters of the 19th Generation.

The four living Grandmasters are:
 Chen Xiaowang 1945 -
 Chen Zhenglei 1949 -
Zhu Tiancai 1944 - 
Wang Xian 1944 -

In addition, Chen Xiaoxing 1952 - , Chen Xiaowang’s younger brother, is also a well respected master who has administered the Chen Taijiquan Martial Arts School in Chenjiaguo for over 35 years.

These Masters have taught all over the world and are credited with bringing Chen Taijiquan out of obscurity and into the modern world. The popularity of Chen Taijiquan, the Chen Family Martial Art, is increasing every day both inside China and abroad. Thanks to modern scholarship and the teachings of these four Grandmasters, Chen Taijiquan is finally being recognized as the original martial arts system known as Taijiquan.

Note: Sometimes generations of Chen Taijiquan students are dated from Chen Wangting which would make the current Grandmasters part of the 11th Generation

 1. Chen Style Taijiquan, Zhaohua Publising House, Beijing. 1984

2. Li, Wen Tao - “Introduction to Tai Chi Quan and Tai Chi Chi Kong”, Guang Quing Publications, Kowloon, Hong Kong 1986

Saturday, September 8, 2018

Chen Eyebrow Level Staff

Very interesting article in the Summer 2018 copy of Kung Fu Tai Chi Magazine. It is about Chen Ziqiang the son of Chen Xiaoxing and nephew of Grand Master Chen Xiaowang. Chen Ziqiang has taken it upon himself to try to rediscover some of the lost weapons forms of Chen Taijiquan. I was always told that Chen Taiji had forms for all the 18 traditional Chinese weapons. However, only about six are generally taught, namely - sword (jian), broadsword (dao), double sword, double broadsword, spear, and Spring and Autumn Halberd (chunji da dao). Using historical records, Chen Ziqiang is trying to recreate these lost forms. Of course, this effort is not without controversy. I have reproduce the article here and you can make up your own mind.
















Tuesday, June 26, 2018

Chen Xiaoxing and Me

An article on Grandmaster Chen Xiaoxing from Kung fu Tai Chi Magazine in 2005. Look closely at the bottom right photo on page 5. It's a picture of my graduating class at the Chen Village School in  1988. I'm in the second row, 3rd from the left - the already-bald white guy. I have no idea why they chose that photo. There have been many graduating classes since then and surely there have been other foreign students. It was quite a shock to see it when I looked through the magazine at the news stand.

I made the pictures extra large so you can read it easily. You'll have to scroll across the pages to see everything. Chen Xiaoxing just finished his final teaching tour of America recently. I wasn't able to attend one of his seminars however. I wonder if he would remember me...







My copy of the photo featured in the article




Saturday, November 25, 2017

Becoming a Lay Disciple of the Shaolin Temple


I became a lay disciple of Venerable Dharma Master Shi Suxi in 1988. At that time I was living in Zhengzhou, a city not far from the Shaolin Temple in Henan Province. Soon after I moved there, I had the good fortune to become acquainted with a gentleman named Wang Bing. He was very interested in martial arts and occasionally wrote for Chinese martial arts magazines. As I got to know him, I was surprised to find that he was also a practicing Buddhist, something that was not very common at that time. One day when I was visiting him at his apartment, he mentioned that he was a disciple of the Shaolin Temple.   He asked if I would like go visit the Temple with him some time. I had been to the temple months earlier and hated it. There were merchants everywhere on the temple grounds and the place looked like a gaudy tourist attraction. I said sure and thought no more about it.

Several weeks later, on Oct. 13, Wang Bing showed up at my door and asked if I would like to go see a performance by the Shaolin monks and meet his teacher. We hopped a train to Luoyang and the next morning drove in a van to the Temple which is located near Dengfeng city. Wang Bing's wife got one of the young monks to give me a tour of the temple and this experience was much nicer than the previous one. When we got back on the bus for Luoyang, I was shocked. It was full of monks. We were their ride to the performance.  Wang Bing introduced me and when they found out I was a martial artist, insisted that I take part in the performance. In fact, they wanted me to do two separate performances during the intermissions.



Since I had just finished studying Chen Taijiquan at the Chen village, I decided would do a shortened version of the form I had learned. I also wanted to do some Pekiti-Tirsia Kali, the Filipino Martial Art that I was an instructor in. Of course, they had never heard of it. Although I can't prove it, it is possible that I was the first person to ever demonstrate the Filipino Martial Arts in China. I told them I needed a pair of sticks so they cut a staff in half ,  making me a pair of sticks of just the right length.

I thought the performance was going to be for a small crown but when we got to the venue, I fount that it was an open air stadium with several thousand people in attendance.The provincial TV station was also there though I never got to see any video of the performance.

The monk's performance was incredible. Fast and powerful, they were awe inspiring. Then it was my turn. The crowd was eager to see a foreigner perform martial arts but as I started the slow motion movements of Taiji, I could almost hear them yawning in boredom. After the dynamic performance of the monks, Taiji was just too slow to hold their attention. Totally intimidated, I stopped at the first  reasonable ending point I could find and got out of there.

The second performance was not much better. Arnis does not have any forms so all I could do without a partner was freestyle doublestick. To the crowd it no doubt looked like I was just swinging a couple of sticks around for no apparent reason. However, my performance was not completely wasted. A few months later, after I became a lay disciple, my Dharma Brother Deyang asked me to teach him the sticks. He wanted to learn the form and couldn't really understand how you could have a martial art without forms. Needless to say, the training didn't go very far. However, I was very gratified that he was able to see the value in it and was honored that he asked me to teach him.



After the show, we went back to the hotel where the monks were staying and Wang Bin took me to meet his teacher, Venerable Dharma Master Shi Suxi. He asked if I would like to become one of Venerable Master Suxi's disciples. I had no idea what that entailed. I knew very little of about Buddhism. I was far more interested in Daoism. This seemed like a rare opportunity however so there was no way I was going to turn it down. So, in a tiny hotel room I knelt before Suxi Da Fashi and recited some Chinese words that I did not understand and became a 31st Generation lay disciple of the Shaolin Temple. After much discussion between my now Shifu and the Temple's Secretary, I was given the Dharma name "Deqin" which means "overflowing with virtue".



Because Zhengzhou was only a couple of hours away by bus, I started visiting the temple every weekend or whenever I had a chance.  Wang Bing told me it was customary to bring one’s Shifu a gift when becoming a disciple. I had a small statue of the Bodhisattva Guanyin and I presented that to Shifu. On my next visit, I asked about the statue but Shifu had given it away. I found out that Shifu would give away everything he had (or others would take his things). The only possession he owned were a set of prayer beads that had been handed down from teacher to student for over 100 years. He had no other belongings and never asked for anything for himself. He later gave those beads to me.


My favorite picture of Shifu was taken when we brought him to Zhengzhou to go to the hospital. He had been ill for some time but had refused treatment. It was quite a battle to get him to go. He didn’t want anyone to fuss over him. The night before we went to the hospital, we stayed at Wang Bing’s apartment. That evening, as he always did, Shifu walked up and down the hall reciting Sutras and mantras. Walking was difficult for him as his Parkinson’s disease was getting more and more debilitating. However, he persisted in his Buddhist practices. In my picture, he is walking away so you can only see his back. To me though, that picture says it all; regardless of the many adversities he had to face in his life-famine, revolution, torture - Shifu remained a devote Buddhist monk, the last true monk of Shaolin. .



Saturday, June 10, 2017

Taiji in the Chen Ancestral Village


In August of 1988, after almost a year of negotiations, not all of it pleasant. I arrived at the Chen Village in Henan Province, China,  to begin my study of Chen St
yle Taijiquan.

Meeting with Master Chen Zhenglei and school staff

The actual name of the village is Chenjiagou, which literally means “Chen Family Ditch”. Unfortunately, the name is pretty accurate. The small village sits under a grove of trees in the middle of miles and miles of fields. There is nothing scenic about it, certainly nothing to indicate that it was the home of one of the most influential styles of Chinese martial arts in history. The houses nestle in little clusters under the trees.  Most of them are made of mud bricks as they have been for centuries. Bundles of chili peppers and herbs are hung up to dry beside most front doors. These, along with the occasional torn good luck couplets and faded door god pictures, are the only color to be seen among the faded yellow homes.


A typical mud brick home.

The few shops along the street have a long open window area and a brick counter with a corrugated fiberglass overhang. To buy anything, you have to lean over the counter and point to what you want, not that there is much to buy anyway. When the rains come, as they do quite often during the summer, the dirt roads became impassable mud pits The village appears frozen in time like nothing there has changed in hundreds of years.


Main street after a rain storm

The Chen Taiji school itself was not too impressive. It was a large non-descript two story brick building. Most of the glass panes in the windows were missing. On the front of the building were three large characters that proclaimed that this was a “Wu Shu Guan” or martial arts school. There was nothing to indicate that this was the original and only Chen Taijiquan school in the country.


With a classmate in front of the school

The area in front of the  school was divided into three packed earth practice areas. Classes were held in these areas, unless it was raining, The main building did have a nice little gym area with a dusty painted concrete floor but we were only allowed to use it when it was raining. Even though most of the windows were missing their panes of glass, there was little air circulation so the gym was extremely hot and humid.


Practicing in the indoor gym with Chen Zhongliu

In the afternoons, after the local school let out, village children of all ages would gather in the main yard for wushu  practice. They would spend hours punching, kicking, jumping and falling on the unforgiving ground. I came to realize why so many Chinese became so good at martial arts. With no movie theatre and precious few TV’s in the village, there simply wasn’t anything else for them to do.

The conditions at the school were rough, more so for the Chinese students than for me. I had a private room made of bare cinder blocks on the second floor of the school. I also got a small electric fan which helped a lot at night even thought the air blowing on me constantly made me catch  a small cold. There was no toilet in the room. To go to the bathroom at night, I had to make my way through completely dark gym, unable to see my hand in front of my face. From there I made my way to the outhouse which was basically a trench with a couple of boards stretched across it. To defecate, you made your way to the middle of the boards over the pit and prayed that you didn’t loose your balance.  There you would squat and do your business while trying to keep the flies and mosquitoes off your ass. I’m not proud of it but I will admit that, on some nights, especially when it was raining, I would urinate out of the second floor window of my room. I felt guilty but it was better than the inconvenient and dangerous trip to the outhouse. As I did so, I prayed that one of the students had not decided to sleep on the walkway below. I never heard any outraged cries so I think I managed to miss everybody.

The the rest of the students did not have it nearly so good.  They lived in two large dormitories. And when I say “dormitory” I mean a big common room filled with beds. The room had space for about  thirty beds and was packed with almost no room between beds. I was shocked to see that many of them didn’t even have mosquito nets. The mosquitoes were a major problem. There were lots of them and they were big. I used to joke that they were so big that they came with landing lights. They were everywhere and even came out during the daylight hours. It was very hot at night this time of year and there was no form of air conditioning for the students, not even a fan. Some students slept outside on the hottest nights, bravely enduring the constant mosquito attacks. I was not immune either as I had to keep the windows open to get some air in the room. Luckily, I had a mosquito net and burned anti-mosquito incense so I managed to find some relief  during the nightly onslaught.

Bathing was done outside with cold water from a large open topped cement cistern. In the hottest weather, the local village kids would use it as their swimming pool. Needless to say, the water was pretty filthy. Bathing itself consisted of using a large enamel bowl to scoop water out of the cistern and pour it over your head. Then you would lather up with soap, then rinse with another bowl full of cold water. Everyone wore shorts while bathing for modesty as there was no privacy whatsoever. It was so hot that I usually ended up dousing myself three times a day or more. Clothes were washed on Sunday, in a sink with running water standing on its own in the front courtyard. I had never washed my clothes by hand before so I was at a loss. Much to my relief, a couple of the girl students offered to help out and washed them for me.


Bath time

I was a vegetarian at the time and luckily for me most of the meals were vegetarian. This was not by choice but because the school was too poor to afford meat. While good for me, it was rough on the students. What was even worse was that the school said that they couldn’t even afford rice. This really upset the students, especially those from the South of China as they were used to eating large quantities of rice at every meal. Instead of rice we had some sort of corn grits porridge which served as a staple in the area and which I came to actually enjoy. There were also huge steamed bread buns and some tofu at every meal. Even today, I crave steamed buns and buy some whenever I can find them.

Breakfast consisted of the corn grits porridge with preserved vegetables and steamed bread. For lunch there was usually some form of noodles and a few vegetables. Dinner was the same as breakfast. We were charged for our meals but they were incredibly cheap, at least for me since I made a lot more than the average Chinese. The meals were generally less that one yuan (about 15 cents) a day. Occasionally there were small portions of meat available but we were charged extra for this and it was usually more that most students could afford. The meat included the in the rice dish so I had no choice but to pick it out. The pieces were so small however that it usually took the entire lunch period to make the meal safe to eat. One day the cooks actually managed to find some rice, which was rationed by the government, and this was a big occasion among the students.

In between classes the other students and I would sit around under the trees and munch corn on the cob and watermelon. Even though the students were curious about the foreigner in their midst, they were polite enough to leave me alone most of the time. No one treated me special which made me feel like I was just another student in the group. I was told however, that I was only the third foreigner who had ever studied at the village school.

Most of my classmates were college students or teachers. There were several of them around my age (30) or younger. The was one student who was 49 years old. He had a difficult time of it but never complained.  The students came from a wide variety of backgrounds. There were many different levels of experience among them. Some had obviously never studied any kind of martial art before while others were quite skilled. All were united in their desire to learn Chen Taijiquan. For me, it felt great to be part of a martial arts community again.

 I got plenty of practice speaking  Chinese  because no one there spoke English. There were a lot of different dialects present so many of the students were hard for me to understand. That included the teachers who spoke with what I called the “Henan Mumble” but was actually just the dialect that had developed in this isolated village over hundreds of years. Luckily the older student in the class was a teacher and spoke beautiful, clear Mandarin. He was kind enough to translate the teachers dialect into standard Chinese for me. It felt weird that someone had to translate Chinese into Chinese but that is a fact of life in China. There are many dialects and often even the Chinese themselves are unable to communicate with their countrymen. Luckily, the writing system is the same for all even if the pronunciation is different. So if all else fails, people can still communicate via the written word.

Most days were the same; we got up, practiced, ate, practiced, took a nap,  practiced, ate dinner, practiced and went to bed. I had thought that boredom would be my biggest problem there but as it was, I had very little time to myself. There was a half an hour break between classes  but I usually did not have the energy to do much more than rest. The daily schedule looked like this:

Monday - Saturday:
6:30 AM - Wake up
7-8:30 - First Class (Qigong and Self-practice)
8:30 - Breakfast
9:30 - 10:30 - Second Class
11:00 -12:00 - Third Class
12:30 PM Lunch
1:30 -5:00 - Free time
5:00 -6:00 - Fourth class
6:30 - 7:30 - Fifth Class
8:00 -  Dinner
9:00 - 10:00 - Sixth Class ( Self practice)
11:00 PM - Lights out
Sunday- free time

The classes were excellent and went at just the right pace for me. I was afraid  that they would rush through the form but the teachers seem really concerned that we learn it correctly. I was confident that I would have a pretty firm grasp of things by the end of my stay.

The first three days were spent on basics. Every morning started with an hour of standing Qigong. Chen Qigong is called Zhuang Gong which is often translated as “Standing Post. This required you to stand with knees slightly bent and your arms stretched out in front of you like you were hugging a big tree. As you inhaled, you visualized the breath traveling down to the energy center below your navel know as the Dantian or "Cinnabar Field". The posture was hard enough but maintaining concentration for an hour was extremely challenging as well. As time when on I began to feel more comfortable but it was not something I ever looked forward to.

However, that first day during the first class I learned that hugging an imaginary tree for an hour was nothing. The very first class introduced me to a whole new world of pain. Even with a year of wushu training, I found the basic exercises to be  brutal. Everything was done from the Chen bow stance (gong bu). It is a unique stance that is somewhat like straddling a large beach ball or riding a very fat pony. After a day of that, I was sure that I would never walk upright again. My only consolation was that it appeared to be just as painful for all the others, no matter how flexible they were. It was then I had an important realization. Just because a martial art is classified as “internal” does not mean it is easy.

Our class had two teachers; Chen Zhongliu and Chen Xiaoliu. Chen Zhongliu was a big guy who seemed to me to be from local peasant stock. His stances were not the lowest but his movements were powerful and flowing.


Getting instruction from Chen Zhongliu

 Chen Xiaoliu was tall and thin and his movements were smooth and perfect. He had incredibly low stances. I was told that he had just taken third place in that year’s All China Taiji Championships.  He was quite stern during class but quite friendly outside of it. The two taught in a standard pattern. Zhongliu would introduce the movements to give us a rough idea. Xiaoliu would then correct and refine our movements.


Chen Xiaoliu

I had a few physical problems in the beginning. I had recently bought some Nike shoes that gave my bad ankle great support. However, they were made of synthetic material and not did not breath at all. It was extremely hot and humid in Henan in August. The hot weather plus the heat generated during practice quickly gave me a wicked case of foot rot. The toes of my left foot looked like raw hamburger.

Unable to bear the pain and itching I was directed to the village hospital. It was a small two room building that looked more like a residence than a hospital. A doctor named Ting looked at my foot, put some iodine on it and gave me some kind of pills. My skin had also broken out in heat rash . The doctor said the pills would help with that as well and not to worry. Sure enough, my toes soon felt better. I tried to rest and air my feet out as much as possible which really cut into my self practice time.

A couple of days later I went back and saw a different doctor, also named Ting(they all were named Ting there, I was told) He gave me some powder to put on my toes since my condition had not improved very much. It burned like hell but worked quickly and by afternoon I was able to walk fairly normally. I ditched the Nikes and bought some traditional black cotton shoes which breathed much better. My feet cleared up pretty quickly after that.

In class, the emphasis was always on performing the movements properly. There was never any discussion of possible fighting applications. During one class however, Xiouliu decided to show us the application for one of the movements. It was a painful chin na finger and arm lock. Xiaoliu applied it to everyone in class, obviously enjoying our yelps of pain. However, nobody in the class could get it to work for them. Obviously frustrated, one of the students confronted the teacher. Xiaoliu told the student to attack him any way he wanted. The student shot in and tried for a one leg take down. Xiaoliu simply pivoted and dumped him on the ground. The student got up suitably chastened and we went back to practicing. No one challenges any of the teachers after that. Unfortunately, that was also the only application we were shown. They obviously were kept secret and taught only to trusted closed-door students.

On Sunday, our only day off, I went with a group to see the Yellow River. We started out on bicycles but the terrain was so rough that they soon proved to be useless. We continued on foot through the mud and it turned out to be quite a hike. The river was indeed yellow from all the silt. It was an interesting trip but by the end I wished I had stayed home and rested.

On another day off, I made a journey to the village open air market, I ran into a man named Chen Kaoliu. He invited me back to his room to sit and talk. Kaoliu had lived his whole life in the village. He had graduated high school but had not gone to college, which is not unusual for people from the countryside. He began learning Taiji from his father when he was about 8 years old. He said that everyone in the village knows it although there are people of differing ability and interest. He himself had incredible technique and was a very good teacher. Every motion he made was clear and precise.

The daily training continued  until we had completed all 75 of movements of the Lao Jia (Old Frame). After that, we spent several days learning the double edged sword (jian) form. The movements of the weapon forms was very different from the empty hand forms. While not performed at top speed they were not done very slowly either. The stances were much more like conventional Chinese martial art stances and the signature Chen bow stance was not used. This should not have been too surprising. An edged weapon provides its own power by way of its sharp edge therefore rooting to the ground is not necessary to generate cutting force.  In fact, it can be dangerous to have a wide, relatively immobile stance  as most weapon combat requires quick and nimble  footwork to be effective. The Jian is considered a finesse weapon and was often the preferred sword of the scholar class as they had more time to devote to it’s mastery. The broadsword (Dao) on the other hand, was considered lowly and crude. It was the weapon of the soldier who had no time for fancy techniques but had to be trained quickly because his survival on the battle field depended on it. It was said in China that it takes 10 days to master the broadsword and ten years to master the Jian. Therefore, it should have been no surprise to me that the Chen broadsword form was taught in a single afternoon.

On the last day of the  session, we had our final examination. For some reason, it was not held in the gym but in one of the large rooms on the second floor. The room  was normally  used as a bedroom. In fact, one of the younger teachers was sleeping while the exam was going on, although I don’t know how, what with all the stomping. I was one of the first five to go. Naturally I was nervous but happy to be getting it over with. Halfway through the form, Chen Xiaoliu told me to stop. I was shocked and terrified. I felt sure that I had screwed up something badly was going to be failed. The people that had gone before me had completed the entire form without anything being said. I sat on the sidelines in a cold sweat. All that work for nothing, I thought. Then,  the student that followed me was also told to stop about halfway through. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized that the teacher was stopping everybody in the middle to save time. Since the form takes at least 10 minutes to complete and there were over 30 students, that seemed like a smart thing to do.


Class graduation picture. I'm 3rd from left, second row

After successfully passing the exam, it was time to go. I gathered my things to head back to Zhengzhou City where I had found a job teaching English at a technical college. About eight other students were also heading to the city so we decided to ride back together. However, there was no bus service to the tiny village, We had to figure out another way to travel the mile or so to  the highway where the buses ran. There were few, if any, automobiles in the village so we had to find an alternative means of transportation. Luckily, one of the villagers with a horse drawn cart was heading that way and said he would be glad to give us a ride. We tossed our bags in back and sat on them, using them as makeshift seats. The day was sunny but not too warm so we were comfortable. We laughed and joked among ourselves as we enjoyed the hour long ride to the highway.

Studying at the Chen village had been challenging. The classes were physically demanding and the life style primitive. Still, I felt comfortable there among others who accepted me as just another martial arts student. Even though I was able to continue my studies for the rest of the year in Zhengzhou; getting private lessons from a top student of Grandmaster Chen Xiaowang, I missed the comradery and challenges of the village. I am grateful that I was able to study there for it has given me an insight into Chen Style Taijiquan that I could not have gotten anywhere else.