In depth discussions of internal martial arts, theatricality, and Daoist ritual emptiness. Original martial arts ideas and Daoist education with a sense of humor and intelligence.
New Eastover Workshop, in Eastern Massachusetts, Italy, and France are in the works.
Daodejing Online - Learn Daoist Meditation through studying Daoism’s most sacred text Laozi’s Daodejing. You can join from anywhere in the world, $50. Email me if you are interesting in joining!
Basic Chinese Internal Martial Arts 5-Day Training
Lafayette, CA
Session 1 - JUNE 11th-15th Session 2 - JUNE 18th-22th
The internal martial arts are famous for the cultivation of qi and effortless power; however, the qi levels and spirit levels can only develop from a physical base. Without a solid base of practice the higher levels are in accessible. This class will focus on physical prowess and high-level body mechanics. We will use spiraling, lengthening, shrinking, and expanding to connect the whole body into a powerful platform for spontaneous freedom.
Zhanzhuang - The practice of standing meditation also called yiquan or wuji. No one ever got good by skipping this step.
Neigong - Internal power stretch and whole-body shrinking and expanding. This is all the soft stuff! It develops the four corners of martial fitness - Unliftable, Unsqueezable, Unmoveable, and Unstoppable.
Jibengong - Basic training for internal martial arts, which includes individual exercises to develop irreversible body art (shenfa), exquisite structure (xing), and refined power (jin). Taiji, xinyi, or bagua focus, depending on your experience.
Lecture-encounters will include a Daoist text studies introduction and history, along with group exploration of the experimental links between theater and meditation. All instruction will be given in the classical one-to-one naturally disheveled style in order to meet and match each person?s unique experience and insights.
Two Person Practices develop spacial awareness and technical spontaneity while systematically testing every part of our physical and emotional bodies. This includes everything to do with resistance, light contact, throws, rough footwork, tui shou, and roshou. How can we discard our social need to dominate or submit, and embody nonaggression without giving up marital prowess?
Schedule Begin in the parks around Lafayette, CA 6 AM Zhan Zhuang 7 AM Neigong 8 AM Jibengong *9 AM Breakfast (Optional: rice porridge made from bone stock with pickled foods) 10 AM Two Person Practices Training 12 PM Lunch - bring your own or eat locally. Take a nap, drink tea... 2 PM Lecture/Encounter 4 PM End
*Breakfast will be based on Traditional Chinese Nutritional Theory.
Sleeping There is camping in the area, hotels, youth hostels, and many other options. We will be walking distance from a BART train stop which means you can stay pretty much anywhere in the San Francisco Bay Area.
Cost per session - $350
To reserve your spot send a check made out to: Scott P. Phillips 953 Dewing Ave., Lafayette, CA 94549
Feel free to email gongfuguy@gmail.com or call 415.200.8201 to discuss details.
Honestly, I did not think I would make it through this book, but it kept surprising right to the end. It is well written, well organized, and has copious footnotes. But the subject matter is a form of physical-musical-theater that is only accessible to me through translations of scripts and my imagination. Since my primary interest in the subject is in finding answers to questions about the origins and development of martial arts and possible insights into the theatricality of the arts I practice, I was constantly filtering the author's ideas through that lens. Here is some of what I got:
Just how socially degraded were actors? Very. They were in a permanent caste that made them morally available for sex with either gender. Most actors appear to have been male and judging from the literature, most sex was with men. The book is full of innuendo and subtle slang, men who practice love of "the southern mode," or "the cut sleeve" (a reference to cutting one's own sleeve in order to not wake up a sleeping boyfriend.) Individual actors were role specialists, meaning that at a certain age their stage gender and style of movement was set. It remains an unanswered question whether livelong fidelity to a role was necessary to develop a high standard of skill or because they used those skills in other contexts such as fighting or sexual entertainment? A troop could be bought and owned as could individual actors, and they could be loaned out on a short term or long term basis. One could pay an additional fee to have a role played by a woman. Bonded house servants were higher status than actors, as they could marry out. Bonded servants were sometimes given training in acting. Owning an actor in those days must have been something like owning a large flat screen tv in your home is today.
Despite the strong lines of social degradation, there was a lot of line crossing which takes some time to get one's head around. Theater was everywhere. In the villages there were temple theaters and public performance spaces everywhere. Performances happening every day for a month were common several times a year in all sorts of concurrent locations. It is hard to get a sense of how common theater was or how much amateur theater there was, masked exorcism, or performance rituals, but I get the sense it was happening all the time. They had lots of stages, but all they needed to perform was a large square of red felt, and many types of performance involved the audience.
In the south around Hangzhou and Suzhou the norm was to perform on boats or barges! Readers may recall previous discussions about the origins of Taijiquan in which we posited that the technique developed from people who spent a lot of time on boats. This is a very strong explanation for the origins of Taijiquan's distinctive movement. Why it survived in and around Chen village is another question, but we are moving here from possible explanations to probable ones.
Among the literati, home theater was very common. These were big families and they would invite their friends over for shows. The actors would often double as servants, and most likely end up in peoples laps as the night progressed. The literati were obsessed with theater and theater framed all other social phenomena. The big back drop to the existence of the literati is that way more people were taking and passing the national exams than were getting appointments. To be able and capable of taking the exams and re-taking them to stay current, one had to be dedicated to the written word.
Surrounding literati culture was a constant muddle over authenticity and the theater was the obvious place to work that out. Who was really qualified? And how would you recognized such a person? Who got their position through money or connections? It was a total obsession that broke along certain lines that permeated the theater and real life. An actor could at least play a government official on stage, the vast numbers of 'qualified' literati who never even got an appointment could look on with envy.
Illusion vs. disillusion was the dominant dichotomy. Is this my authentic identity or am I acting? Is this play more ethically or emotionally real than the people I interact with socially or career-wise? You get the idea. These kinds of questions are quite modern, and are an endless source for art and debate. Anyone who has spent an hour looking at martial arts videos on Youtube knows that the dominant dichotomy there is Real vs. Fake. Is this real? Would it work in a street fight? Is it an authentic lineage? etc. etc. etc..ad nauseum. The difference between our modern notions and those of the 17th Century is that those guys were not so arrogant as to think they could actually get to some place called "real." They thought the best they could do was to oscillate between illusion and disillusion. Disillusion in the martial arts is like, "whoa dude, that technique looks so powerful but it like totally failed against a non-compliant opponent." Illusion is like, "l guess I'll have to buy that video of totally awesome street tested combat techniques after all...that'll make me top dog for sure." It's just my opinion, but I believe photos and video have played a huge role in changing our relationship to what is "real," in all realms, but especially in martial arts where even though it is still easy to fake or "throw" a fight, slow motion instant replay of Mixed Martial Artists "grounding and pounding" each other is a potent illusion.
It's fascinating, the debates we are having today about martial arts have a lot of similarities to the debates they were having about theater. Is spontaneity better than precise instruction? Does authentic passion make us better fighters, or better teachers? Does vernacular language have something to teach formalism? Think of this one in terms of the constant tension between rough experience and refined lineage. Is refinement better than vulgarity? And this one I love, is the spectator's ability to see, recognize and appreciate great art the true measure of a life worth living?
If the physical training for martial arts is a super set, or a subset, of training for the theater then naturally we would want to compare martial arts training manuals with theater training manuals. As readers are no doubt aware, there aren't a whole lot of martial arts training texts, or even poetic martial texts, before the 20th Century. (By the way, I would like to see a complete list if anyone has such a thing.) But at least martial training manuals do exist, even if they are mixed up with talisman, chanting, and images of god/heroes from the theater. As for theatrical training manuals, they do not exist at all.
We have all heard reasons why martial arts training was secret, but we are unprepared to explain why theater training would be even more secret. Is it because if you know how to act you can impersonate anyone? Including gods, demons and government officials? A good skill set must have had promising commercial value given adoring literati and the widespread use of "opera" as a part of village ritual calenders, but the complexity of the social contract also makes the commercial value of those skills hard to assess.
As far as martial skills among actors, the book gives us no direct insights. But it is interesting to speculate that if they were debating illusion vs. disillusion as much as they were, was the same debate happening among people of the fist? I believe Douglas Wile has commented on this to the effect that generals didn't want troops with martial arts training because it interfered with infantry skills. These debates could well have been taking place. How often have we though, "I've been practicing these great skills but since I never get in fights, what use are they?" Even in the military, a great fighter could be picked off with a cheap crossbow. Who is going to respect true skill? Where would it be recognised or even criticized if not on the stage? (Susan Naquin has described numerous types of staged fighting as entertainment in her book on pilgrims.) It seems probable that in some places there were regular festivals where people could share, test and display their amateur arts and get recognition for their skills.
Other thoughts:
It is pretty common for a play to start with a martial display or a fight. Even "civil" plays about gender bending love things, like the one translated in the appendix, start with soldiers and troops marching around.
The wine shop was a very popular place to see theater, it seems particularly informal such that on a whim you could hire someone to perform at your table. I've written about the role of martial arts and banquets elsewhere, it's just worth noting that wine shops were a focal point for theater.
She discusses the dichotomy, familiar to most martial artists, between xing and shen. That is form vs. spirit. Interestingly, in the aesthetics of the time, things alike in spirit were considered "internal likenesses," while things alike in form were considered "external likenesses."
She discusses xu (fake/empty) as a key concept in the theater.
There is a category of plays which posits that, if most of our experience is an illusion, then can cultivating a strong relationship to theatrical illusion be a deeper form of authenticity?
When you get some time, look at this article (pdf) that proves convinsingly that teaching martial arts applications slows down or inhibits, kinesthetic learning! It begs the question, are martial arts teachers consciously or unconsciously holding students back by teaching them applications? Also, is Youtube in league with the devil?
I've been suspicious of apps since before I ever started teaching, my first teacher, Bing, didn't teach apps. (Martial applications have become such a standard part of martial arts curriculum that people often refer to them simply as "apps" for sort.)
It is fascinating that apps have taken over. If I had to bet, I wouldn't put the blame on teachers, aggressive students demand apps! And teachers are probably seduced by the role of being the candy man--'hey, dude, they are paying me to keep them at a low level of learning --how can I say no?'
George Xu did teach us applications, but his theory at the time (and back then we had a lot of time...4 hours a day, 6 days a week) was that the student should have at least three applications for every inch of movement. And after a while, the student will develop disdain for all technique and move on to a level of practice where any and all movement is an infinity of open possibilities.
After reaching that level, apps seem silly, 'though, as collectors, we might occasionally be stimulated by a novel or creative app.
But students love apps. They're always askin' for them. George Xu explained to us that in and around those dark days of the Cultural Revolution, if a person was unwise enough to asked his xinyi teacher about an app, the student would for sure walk home bloodied. George told us this casually, but years later when his brother Gordon Xu came over to the States I asked him about George's xinyi teacher and he was like, 'Oh that guy was treturous, the skin on George's shins never had time to grow back.'
In the past, I have sometimes given in to my student's requests to teach them apps, and have lamented that iphones and microwaves have given us neither more free time nor a stronger sense of commitment.
But putting all that aside, enlightened-genius-former-jail-guardRory Miller solved this problem for me! He articulated a point which, the moment I heard it, stopped my heart. "What? Oh my gosh, it's so obvious, how is it that no one articulated this to me before?" The insight is that we fight to established martial stances, not from them. Once a student knows the given stance I can put them-- or myself-- in a seriously compromised I've just been surprise attacked position and from there, fight to the stance. This allows me to point out, or for the student to spontaneously discover, target options, angle variations, or changes in orientation. This way the information goes into the correct part of the brain without becoming a technique to remember or forget, and it doesn't inhibit learning. Good angles are good angles, vulnerable targets are vulnerable targets, there is no good reason to link them to particular movements.
Since surprise attacks tend to leave people disoriented, it seems important to practice fighting from disorientation.
I love trees. Trees are part of what make us humans human. We have evolved with them. Trees to climb, trees to shelter us, trees to hide us, trees to help us stand up and look around, trees as lookout posts, trees to build with, trees for fire to keep warm and sing and dance and party, trees for sticks to cook, hunt, and fight with, trees to cross rivers, trees to make boats, trees to make tools. And on and on.
I've looked over a few scientific studies showing that people breath better around trees. (Which if you've been reading this blog you know, supports my view that we don’t really have control over our breathing--the environment itself trumps our intentions.)
I've recently started doing tree practices. Before I describe those, I’ll describe the internal martial arts practices related to trees that many people already know about.
First off is from Yiquan. While standing still hold your arms out in front of you and wrap them around an imaginary tree. Imagine the tree growing, first up, then fatter, then imagine it sinking while you hold it up, then shrinking, then swaying while you hold on to it, then imagine yourself moving it. This is all done invisibly from the hugging-the-tree posture (zhanzhuang).
Next you can practice gathering qi from a real tree. This exercise can be found in many qigong books and was first taught to me as part of Chen style taijiquan. Stand facing the tree with one foot back and do a circular gathering exercise (there are many) as if pulling in a fishing net, or pulling sheets off of a line. (Follow the peng-ji-lu-an sequence if you know it, as in ‘grasping the birds tail.’) While doing this, feel qi coming down the tree into the roots and then rising up behind you into the canopy and then down the tree again in a large circular vertical orbit.
I learned those exercises over 20 years ago, and long ago they became second nature. But they are important.
The new exercises come from George Xu and involve getting right up to a tree and touching it:
Put your hands on the tree and while keeping your spine vertical and your pelvis level rise up, sink down, move in and move out (kua squats if you know them). Next do the same thing but with absolutely no pressure from the hands on the tree nor any lifting off. Then use your feet to do the same thing you are doing with your hands, allow no force or pressure from the feet. This is a method for ridding ones body of jin, structural power. Once your structural power is turned off, and it’s absence is well established, practice melting all tension and internal body sensation down the front of your body to the ground. If you do this correctly a sensation of steam will begin to rise up from the ground. Practice this until it is a continuous sensation, like rain hitting warm ground and creating steam. Next use only this (neidan) feeling to try and pull the tree down, up, in, out, to the side and...twist.
When a person commits to doing a practice the two most important things to define are the time of day the practice will take place and the location of the practice.
I often hear about people "trying" to develop a committed meditation practice. This has always seemed inexplicable to me. The only important questions are, do you have a designated time? and do you have a designated place?
Here is a picture of the room I build to practice meditation in:
Quiet Room on a 4 foot high platform with homemade Shoji
Quiet Room: Dedicated space for zuowang and chadao
Dr. Ken Fish inspired a very interesting thread on Rum Soaked Fist which I’d like to draw readers attention to. (It takes a little while to get going and is up to 7 pages as I'm posting.) Fortunately, I’ve been banned from posting on the site without explanation. Frankly that’s a good thing because it required a lot of effort to monitor comments from people who regularly misunderstood and therefore freaked-out about comments I made.
Fish’s disturbing premiss is that the training secrets of Chinese martial arts masters are usually withheld at the beginning of a person’s training, not later after many years of study as is often assumed. By withholding certain types of intense, precise, and personally coached training at the beginning, a master can insure that a student stays forever at an intermediate level.
In other words, because of extensive sharing and the ease with which students change masters these days, many high level techniques have actually been written about and it has become quite possible to learn these methods, but without that more basic training these higher level techniques rarely if ever come to fruition.
It’s funny you know, from when I first started studying martial arts all the way into the early 90’s, if you wanted to insult a student from another school or someone else’s master, you would say, “You lack basic training, If you just go back and practice the basics you will have a chance of improving.” The standard retort to this insult was made famous by Bruce Lee, “You have offended my family and the Shaolin Temple, you must have grown weary of living.”
What is most striking about the thread is that Fish gives Jackie Chan as the best example of someone who has unequivocally had this basic training. He explains that the training is performative, it can be seen, and it is unmistakable. He then goes on to say repeatedly that anyone who has had professional level traditional Chinese Theater training has it, unequivocally. And that this basic training, ‘though quite rare in modern teachers of the arts, is widespread among all regional styles of Chinese theater and martial arts. (Which, I might add, should be a clue to understanding it’s origins.)
Naturally, I totally agree with him. But I would go further, I would say that a great number of higher level skills, concepts and training methods are directly accessible only through seeing the martial arts within a matrix of ritual-meditation and theater. Without accessing the original context, our only hope is reverse engineering.
In other words, you can’t just be tough, you have to act tough!
Bing Gong
Let me try to give readers a better idea of what this basic work(jibengong) is like by describing my own experience of learning it and trying to teach it. Kuo Lien-Ying was trained around the turn of the 20th Century in Beijing traditional theater arts, also known as Northern Shaolin. As the vicious mass movement to separate theater, religion and martial arts got underway, he moved into the martial arts camp, where he studied with many of the greatest artist of his time. He fled with the Kuomintang to Taiwan in ’49 and then came to America in the 1960’s where my first teacher, Bing Gong, became his top Shaolin student.
Studying with Bing was a profound experience and we became very close.
Ye Xiaolong
The truth is that Bing, although he spoke very little, had a strong desire to pass on the essence of this art. But sadly, hardly anyone was willing to endure the training. He would have me do very simple movements over and over again in slightly different ways until my body permanently changed.
For instance, while I held the basic monk stance, (see image below) he would order me to make small adjustments or movements while he introduced various forms of resistance. There were many eventual ‘benefits’ to this. So for example, after a time I could move my knee high enough and integrate it into my structure well enough that I could use it to block kicks to my ribs.
Take another example from Shaolin. While doing the second line of Tantui (springy legs), which is a very straight forward punch, punch, punch-kick combination, Bing would have me freeze with my
Paulie Zink
outstretched leg up above hip level. Then he would have me move it higher and he would test it for connection or integration in various ways. And then we’d do the same on the other side--over and over, day after day, week after week. Again, until the ability was permanent.
Bing also kicked me a lot. He wouldn’t tell me how to get into a stance, he would kick me into it. Although I can point to a lot of different learning methods that I have experienced over the years which could account for the gongfu in my legs, nothing else was really as profound as that.
As I’m sure readers can surmise, these things are not complex to teach or to learn, but actually getting the student to do the work is unusual. I guess I liked it when Bing kicked me because I never asked, “Why are you doing that?” nor did I respond emotionally by making a face as most students do. How do you explain to a student that they are not to make a face? Trying to explain it is like making a problem on top of a problem, it just doesn’t work. I think anyone who has done professional dance training will understand this instinctively. As one of my dance teachers put it, “Some people know how to take corrections and some people don’t.”
I could say things about all of my teachers in regards to jibengong, but I’m just going to mention two more, the first is Ye Xiaolong. Geroge Xu brought Ye over from Shanghai one Spring in the early 90’s because George himself wanted to learn from him and they both taught class together. But then suddenly in late May, George got his long awaited “Green Card” and shortly there after he flew to Europe to teach. He left Ye by himself to teach classes in San Francisco and arranged for us to get him back and forth from his house to the park. But as there was no translation, only two of us came to class for the whole Summer. He taught us for 100 days, everyday for about 3 hours. We concentrated on about five exercises which we did over and over. Ye constantly had his hands on us, making corrections, pushing, resisting, kicking and saying, “Bu hao,” (no good). We actually did a lot of push hands too, but it was never competitive, it was done as a kind of cooperative power stretch. The effects were permanent.
Paulie Zink deserves a mention here also because I believe he is an international living treasure specifically because he has the worlds largest collection of jibengong. As he put it to me, “I don’t teach martial arts anymore because I have yet to find anyone who is willing to do the preliminary work.”
Chief among the claims made about the Health and Wellness benefits of Tai Chi is it's ability to improve balance.
Health and Wellness justifies its existence by claiming that more visits to the doctor reduces the incidence of serious chronic ailments and thereby reduces the overall costs of healthcare for our society.
But it can also be viewed as a way to justify more and more comprehensive insurance, that is, more and more expensive.
A hospital administrator in Oakland told me that lots of people just wait until they are sick enough to go the the emergency room-- and that's an expensive visit.
I don't know, I like Toyotas because they are cheap, safe and last a long time. If you ask me how to fix healthcare, I'll tell you to model it after the Toyota!
______
This is no longer just a fad. There are numerous studies about Tai Chi and improvements in balance. People are being sent to me by doctors for the single purpose of improving there balance. Hospitals are now offering "balance" classes. I'm game. Teaching balance is so easy. It's like cheering at sporting event. Raaaaaaahh were winning. It's a pretty small part of Tai Chi, and if that is all new students are interested in, I'm going to get bored pretty fast. But it is amazing how much a person can improve their balance when they are given a few simply exercises!
Check out this fun video by fellow George Xu disciple Susan Matthews:
Many people I've shown the article to have commented that one of the authors is into a painful type of bodywork called Rolfing, and they have suggested that the authors may have created a Rolfing centric view of fascia. Strangely no one has pointed out that the other author is into Continuum, which is a very watery type of movement exploration.
You'll get the new definition of fascia by just reading the article, so I'm not going to try to nail it down, but readers should know that the old definition was a description of the clear or translucent film that surrounds all muscle. The new definition includes tendon and ligament and sees all that juicy stuff as a single organ.
Whatever, right? But what is important about this new article, and this new approach, is that it uses clinical language and conforms to kinesiology standards. Until now there was no clinical explanation of how external martial arts work that any of us could use when talking to a physical therapist. That's going to be a big change.
Fascia?
The article explains that tendons and ligaments themselves can take load and can spring. What the authors don't seem to understand is that it is through the natural spirals of the body that all of these soft tissues function together. They don't seem to realize that the reason they are getting these springy dynamic results from slow holistic lengthening is because their method builds on these underlying spirals. Spirals are there in shortened positions too, as anyone who does whole body tie-up and throw techniques (think: Aikido) can tell you.
So, it's a good start. It primarily deals with what we call in both internal and external martial arts, "the foundation." That is the ability to get in and out of a range of deep, long, loaded, and spiraled stances while using smooth (wood), explosive (fire), fluid (water), and hard-solid (metal) movement qualities. "The foundation" is what I usually refer to in this blog as "jing training," the first level of internal martial arts. It is also commonly referred to in martial arts lingo as "the benefits of good structure."
The authors lose a few points in my book at the end of the article when they say this training, "should not replace muscular strength work, cardiovascular training, and coordination exercises." That statement muddies the issue. All that stuff is just included in basic Shaolin, it's already complete. If we are building this "foundation" for learning Tai Chi, Bagua, or Xinyi, then we are going to leverage these underlying spirals to allow us to reduce muscular "strength" and discard the torso tension usually associated with "coordination exercises."
The author, however, should get extra credit for hinting at methods for developing higher levels of internal martial arts. For instance, take the "ninja principle" all the way out, and the body becomes so light and quiet that our experience of the physical body becomes totally empty (xu). Or take the idea of fluid movement all the way out, and ones habits of coordination and resistance become baby-like, unconditioned (ziran).
The Proprioceptive Refinement section of the article is the most interesting. They discuss the, "need to limit the filtering function of the reticular formation." This refers to a part of our brain which we can train to pay attention to certain kinds of nerve stimuli and ignore others. Muscles transmit information slowly, that's why we need to turn them off and pay attention to other stimuli-- and that's the very mechanism which can make it is so easy to manipulate someone who is, in martial arts lingo, "too stiff." Eventually we want to turn off most of our 'inside the body sensors' and turn on most of our 'outside the body sensors.' The authors correctly identify the problems with doing any movement exactly the same way over and over, namely that we become insensitive to small errors which then become habituated. This is why it is so important that our forms are empty! By cultivating emptiness, our movement is unconditioned by our mind. On the other hand, always thinking about a specific and exact application of a technique, will turn us into robots.
Qi has no memory! To practice martial arts with qi is to be continuously spontaneous.
To quote the Daodejing:
To be preserved whole, bend.
Upright, then twisted;
To be full, empty.
What is worn out will be repaired.
Those who have little, have much to be gained. Having much, you will only be perplexed!
:5
Fascia?
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Scott Park Phillips
A place to train and learn about traditional Chinese martial arts, which are a form of religious theater combined with martial skills.