LEGENDS OF KUNG-FU #27
Evolution
It's a common occurrence for instructors of the same style to
have slight variations in their forms or their applied techniques.
That leads to a great deal of bickering, useless quarrelling back
and forth about who's right and who's wrong. After that argument
begins, the parties involved start questioning each other's credentials,
claiming that the other person didn't spend enough time with their
teacher, wasn't the favorite student, or altogether misunderstood
what the teacher was saying.
Traditionally, this kind of insult-fest had a simple solution:
fight. The winner would be vindicated, and the loser would shut
his mouth and most likely close his school. However, the litigious
environment of modern life precludes this type of solution as
an acceptable option. So the only acceptable venue for such testing
has become the tournament scene. Yet even that is not foolproof,
as most competitors, coaches, and even the judges themselves can
tell you that politics still can play a role in any fight or forms
competition, unless the victor stands so far away from the rest
of the pack that even the completely uneducated and impartial
observer is convinced of who won.
In the Chinese martial arts world, Wing Chun kung-fu instructors
are probably the most vehement about their squabbles about who
learned what from whom. For a system with only three empty hand
forms and two weapons forms, there seems to be an inordinate amount
of heated bickering about the right and wrong way of doing them.
In my own experience, I've seen several different versions of
those three hand forms. Yet, most of the instructors I've seen
demonstrate those forms have legitimate reasons for doing their
forms in the way that they do them. It also seems that because
of Yip Man's long career as a teacher, he taught the forms in
slightly different manners to different students at different
points in his life. Wong Shun Leung, Hawkins Cheung, William Cheung,
Leung Ting, and Ho Kam Ming were all direct students of Yip Man,
but their forms all have minor differences in sequence, in execution,
and in flavor. If you don't believe me, go buy the instructional
or archival videotapes that feature them or their students. Better
yet, go to some Wing Chun seminars and feel the differences for
yourself.
My master, David C.K. Lin, studied directly under the late Chang
Tung-sheng for many years. During Chang's lifetime, he was regarded
as the undisputed king of his chosen system, Shuai-Chiao. Both
Lin's proponents and his detractors seem to agree that he was
one of the finest students to ever learn from Chang and one of
the finest instructors to teach and practice the art. Yet on a
recent trip to Italy, Lin was criticized for incorrect technique
by a student of one of his junior classmates over whether or not
a certain hand was supposed to be open or closed during the execution
of a form!
My master's response was classic. "Standard techniques are
a method of teaching beginners. As long as the combative logic
behind each movement is sound and the application is effective,
the minor differences are irrelevant for people who really understand
the concept behind a certain technique," explained Lin.
I recently had to explain this to one of my own students in a
little more detail. As we were practicing a particular throw in
preparation for his Combat Shuai-Chiao black belt test, I demonstrated
one particular footwork pattern that went with the throw. My student
then asked me why my master's elder son did the same throw with
different footwork and hand positioning. I told him that he'd
just asked a question that cut right to the core of martial arts
evolution and proceeded to answer him as follows.
"For the purpose of teaching and testing you as a beginner,
you learn to do your techniques in a standardized manner. That
basic manner teaches you certain body mechanics and develops certain
strengths. Eventually, you have to learn how to think outside
the box and see how to execute your techniques from a variety
of different entries. The ability to understand how to derive
those variations and make them work under a variety of different
situations is what separates those who know an art versus those
who are merely parroting what their teachers tell them. For an
art to be alive, it has to be functional for a variety of different
people, each with their own attributes and weaknesses. I do my
throws differently from my master's son because I have certain
structural weaknesses in my own body that I'm compensating for.
I'm also not as fast as him, so I have to adjust my techniques
to work while using a slower, weaker body. So while I can show
you a variety of ways to perform a certain throw, only one or
two ways might work for my particular body type, for my particular
injuries, for my particular mindset."
In a teacher's lifetime, he may teach one technique a number
of different ways, depending on his level of comprehension or
the state of his body at that time. Internal style authority Daniel
Yu Wang once told me that he spoke to a very famous, elderly Tai-Chi
teacher while he was still living in China. This elderly teacher
had hundreds of students from around the world and was highly
respected in the Tai-Chi world, revered as a living treasure.
He told Wang that he disdained the fact that his younger students
worked so hard to copy his form, yet were copying the form of
an old man who was no longer in his prime and could no longer
perform the Tai-Chi form in the way it was meant to be. Thus,
it stands to reason that this old teacher probably taught his
students from decades ago to move differently than the students
he was teaching at the time of his meeting with Wang.
The Chinese martial arts are still evolving. But we need to have
our eyes and minds open enough to see that the different variations
we see are not always errors or omissions as long as they retain
the basic necessity of combative practicality within a system's
conceptual boundaries.