COMMONALITIES

 by Phillip Starr

“The stroke is executed by cutting back and then down”, is the teaching given in an ancient scroll, “followed by a swift, slight rise to the right like the movement of striking with a whip.”

Another scroll, almost equally antique, contains poetic (as well as enigmatic) about the practitioner's state of mind, likening it to a “flower scattering, falling without a sound upon moss, a flower scattering to be heard through the depths of the mountains.”

Only those unaquainted with the paradoxes of art and the cultures of China, Japan, and Korea would be surprised to learn that the first commentary is concerned with the gentle skills of calligraphy and the second to the art of swordsmanship. At the core, the particulars of instruction, the matters of effectuation contained in these two old scrolls are secondary to learning either art. It's the underlying principles, in a broad range of different arts of the culture – fine, folk, performing, and martial – are fundamentally synonymous. And these principles are vital to the mastery of any and all of them.

The actor in the Japanese Noh drama or Beijing Opera strives to make his way across the stage without a gap in his concentration and without a single superfluous movement. There is a sense of self and place surrounding the actor that is perfectly understood by the warrior in the perilous arena in which he performs.

The musician playing the shakuhachi (Japanese flute) or the Chinese pipa plays from his or her body's center and perfects his/her breathing; the Japanese swordsman strikes from his center and perfects his breathing because the efficacy of his blow is assured by proper attention being given to his respiration. The goals differ but the attitude is the same.

But it's not only in some technical details that the varied endeavors of these arts converge. From flower arranging to tea ceremony to archery, the aesthetics, the spirituality, and the motivations of these seemingly disparate arts have a wonderful commonality. The unity of these artistic forces is exemplified in two disciplines, seemingly discreet but at the very heart of Japan and China; the Way of the sword and the Way of the brush.

THE CIRCULAR STAIRWAY

 by Phillip Starr

The students had completed the rigorous examination for sandan (3^rd grade black belt). The board of instructors had completed their assessments and the group stood at attention before their teacher. “You have all performed very well. You have passed the test.” The students all smiled, some looking at the others and winking. “You have taken a big step forward”, the teacher continued, “Now, I hope you will all take a step back.”

The group was understandebly confused. It's understandable that we tend to view all of our undertakings in a linear fashion. That is, we think that our work, our learning, our relationships...everything that we try to accomplish in life, will progress in a series of straight steps that move us forward and upward as we continue. We begin school in the first grade and then move on to the second. Military personnel “go up through the ranks”, businessmen “climb the corporate ladder” and we all take things “step by step.” And we take it for granted that the progression follows a straight path. The second-grader doesn't expect to have to repeat the simple printing of the letters of the alphabet; the newly-promoted Colonel would be chagrined if he was told he had to practice close-order drill again with some new recruits, and the new corporate VP would be considerably less than thrilled to find himself having to learn simple secretarial chores. So, you can understand the newly-promoted sandans wondering why they had to go back and practice things that they'd learned in the earliest stage of training.

“Jiben” (in Japanese, “kihon”) are the fundamentals of all the martial Ways; the foundation upon which all other skills are based. But most martial arts enthusiasts see them as simple stepping stones, I think. The karate or taekwondo enthusiast must first learn the basics of a solid stance so that he can learn to execute well-balanced kicks...and then leaping kicks, and then against multiple assailants. He sees the basics as the first step in the process. But if he thinks that once a basic thing is learned, he can go on and never give it a second thought...he is sorely mistaken.

The martial Ways are an exception to the linear, step-by-step, vertical staircase concept of progress. Rather, they are like a circular, spiral staircase. But although you're moving in a circular, winding manner, you still moving UPWARD. When the advanced kendo practitioner comes to class and discovers that the evening's lesson will be on the basic overhead strike, he needn't be disappointed in having to do THAT again...not if he's smart. It's not like going back to the beginner's class where he was first introduced to this technique. Although he is repeating the same technique he learned as a newbie, he understands that he's progressed several flights up the staircase and he will be discovering new insights about this basic technique that are way over the head of a new recruit.

And he will continue to learn new angles (little “tweaks”) for as long as he continues training. He'll make new discoveries...”Hey, I never noticed THAT before! So that's how this strike should be done!” He's made another revolution around the spiral staircase. He's undergone a change. The strike hasn't necessarily changed, but his understanding and mastery of it have progressed. So, always be ready to take a step back. It's the only way to get ahead in the Martial Ways.

CALLING YOUR SHOTS

 by Phillip Starr

This article is for those of you who want to improve your own or your student's sparring skills. If you watch sparring in many (perhaps most) martial arts schools (especially in the West) or tournaments, what you'll witness is a poorly executed version of kickboxing, slipshod muay thai, or just a vigorous schoolyard slugfest. Technique and tactics have gone out the window and there is no relationship between what's going on (sparring) and the forms taught in the system.

Most aspects of our arts are taught progressively, starting at a very basic level and moving gradually towards more advanced levels. However, in most martial arts schools nowadays, this isn't the case with sparring. In some cases, students are introduced to sparring within the first couple of weeks after starting class! It's absurd and only leads to the development of bad habits or discouragement.

Basic formal fight routines prepare students for sparring. It's imperative that they learn to begin these exercise(s) at the proper distance; that is, the attacker should be able to touch the receiver with his technique in a single step. If they begin too close or too far away, the whole routine is pointless.

Once they become comfortable with the exercises, it's critical that the attacker tries to touch them with his attacking technique. And it's important that the attacker has the INTENTION to strike his partner with great force. He won't actually DO it, of course, but the intention must be there!

Students should begin by practicing 3-step fight routines, which teach them basic applications of the fundamental techniques and, to a lesser degree, how to step forward and backward correctly.

3-Step routines, which quickly become very boring, teach more than just how to use the basic techniques. They:

• teach the student proper use of distance. If, by the 2^nd or 3^rd attack the students find themselves too close or too far from each other, the receiver's distancing is flawed and he must learn to correct it.

• At an advanced stage, they are used to teach proper rhythm and timing. This is shown in my book, MARTIAL MANEUVERS.

  
  
  

1-Step routines are introduced only after students have acquired considerable skill in basic 3-step. There are no short-cuts. I remember practicing 3-step for at least 6 months before being permitted to attempt 1-step, which teaches:

• Applications of various techniques

• Use of special tactics, body shifting, and footwork

• Polishes timing and rhythm

After students become skilled at 1-step, freestyle 1-step may be introduced. This training exercise is invaluable and hones everything to very fine edge. I made my advanced students practice it in almost every class. There are several ways of doing it:

1. Attack is specified. Defense also specified.

2. Attack specified. Defense free.

3. Attack unspecified. Defense specified.

4. Attack unspecified. Defense free.

   
   
   

It must be practiced just so:

1. One participant serves as Attacker and the other is the Receiver.

2. They begin at a distance of 6-8 ft. apart and bow as if they are sparring. Then they adopt fighting stances.

3. They are free to move around as if they were sparring.

4. The Receiver will not strike at the Attacker until the Attacker attacks.

5. An attack is any penetration of the Receiver's “defense perimeter.” This includes penetration by technique, or a (usually inadvertent) movement of the Attacker that causes him the penetrate the defense perimeter of the Receiver in any way (even if he doesn't fire an attacking technique).

6. Therefore, both participants must be acutely sensitive to distance (their defense perimeters) at all times.

7. The Attacker will do his best to score on the Receiver with a single, appropriate technique in perfect form and power, as well as stability. Then he freezes in place.

8. The Receiver will defend himself with an appropriate single technique, delivering it in perfect form and with adequate power, timing, and stability. Then he freezes in place so the teacher can check his form, balance, stance, etc.

9. If the Attacker makes an attack and the receiver fails to immediately deliver a counter-attack, it is counted as a miss.

10. If either participants executes a technique that lacks adequate power, control, stance, stability, timing, or if the distance is to close or too far, or is something other than a valid martial arts technique, it is counted as a miss.

    
    
    

So the attack must be sudden and without a “telegraph” and the counter-attack must be letter perfect as well. Both participants must strive to do their absolute best and use textbook-perfect technique. This develops razor-sharp reflexes, timing, and stresses perfect technique. I liken the difference between this and the way most students spar nowadays to the difference between playing “slop pool” and “calling your shots.” A player of billiards who can call his shots with success will always beat one who plays “slop pool” (just shooting the ball out there and hoping it hits something).

And I maintain that acquiring skill in freestyle 1-step is considerably more difficult than sparring. There is no bouncing away and out of range when the attack comes; you must deal with it immediately and effectively. Hopping up and bopping your opponent on the head with a floppy backfist won't cut it, either. Your response must be as perfect as possible. Freestyle 1-step is the bridge between your forms and sparring. Don't ignore it.

BUT WHEN DO I BREATHE?

 By Phillip Starr

I've had many students ask what would seem to be a nonsensical question. In doing a reverse punch or better yet, a lunging punch, they ask, “Just when do I breathe?” Of course, what they mean is “exhale.” Inhalation is done prior to the execution of any technique and with nothing more than a sniff. Exhalation, however, is a different matter.

We all know that force equals mass multiplied by acceleration (F=MA). The air we inhale and exhale isn't going to affect our mass at all BUT it can increase the acceleration of our movement...so we're talking about exhalation. So, students sometimes wonder if it should be done at the beginning or the end of a technique. I often use the analogy of a car race...

When the cars are at the starting line they rev their engines and when the flag drops, the drivers stomp the accelerator to the floor. Anyone who starts off nice and easy...having the idea of flooring the accelerator at the very end of the race isn't going to fare well. They need the sudden burst of acceleration at the very beginning of the race!

So, there's the answer to their question. Exhalation should be very powerful and performed at the beginning of the technique. THAT is where they need the most acceleration. Sometimes I notice a student not exhaling at all (this often occurs when they perform a form). Holding the breath is every bit as bad as inhaling in so far as vulnerability is concerned. It also restricts acceleration.

Just remember – exhale just as you begin your technique and exhale 2/3 of your breath as quickly as possible. The longer it takes you to exhale, the more of a “pushing” (rather than “striking”) effect you'll get. It'll make a bit of noise (which becomes less noticeable in time), which can actually be of some help...listen to the sound you make; if it's a bit long or drawn-out, it's taking you too long to exhale and you're getting too much “push!” The sound should be no longer than a gunshot – open your big mouth and get the air out as quickly as possible! Don't purse your lips and blow – the opening through which you're exhaling is then too small and it takes too long to get the air out – open your mouth and get the air out quickly!

What about combinations? Do you exhale separately for each technique? NO! A given combination should be done in ONE exhalation, which is done as quickly as possible. A two-technique combination isn't too difficult to do this way; a three technique combo will require considerable practice and a four technique combo is nearly impossible! You certainly don't want an inhalation to occur in the middle of your combination; it will slow you down and leave you highly vulnerable to attack! So, leave no open windows of opportunity for your opponent to exploit. Everything happens in a single breath.

And don't lengthen your exhalation to accommodate your techniques. Instead, your techniques must fit into the space of a single, powerful, quick exhalation. It'll require considerable practice, believe me. But it'll make all the difference in the world...

BLACK BELT? HOW LONG...?

 by Yang Shuangxing

If I had a dollar for every time a prospective student asked me how long it would take him to earn a black belt, I could have retired a lot sooner. My usual knee-jerk response was that for about six bucks (belts were much cheaper back then), I could have one for him in about ten days...

Of course, that wasn't what he wanted to hear. For those who I felt were seriously interested but simply ignorant, I would explain it to them in this fashion: All things being “average”, which included his or her fitness level, coordination, intelligence...and attending class an average of three times each week, the average time was usually about 3-4 years. However, if any of the involved factors weren't average, the whole equation changed.

I have known a good many instructors who were very surprised at my answer. “Only THREE OR FOUR years? Why, in my school it usually takes about TEN years...” They were always surprised to learn that, in Japan, the average time required to reach shodan was three to four years (bear in mind that the Chinese systems, at that time, provided no ranking system at all). They misunderstood the whole concept of shodan, believing that receiving the coveted black belt indicated that one was an “expert” of some kind. This notion originated in the West and is a far cry from how the grade is considered in the East.

The idea of issuing black belts to senior students originated in judo. Dr. Kano (the founder) determined that it would be a good way to distinguish seniors from juniors and the more junior students could easily identify those who could assist them. It was never intended to indicate that anyone was an “expert”, whatever that is. In time, kyu (junior) belts of various colors came to be.

Shodan means “first grade.” That's all. Nothing fancy. It means that you have learned the fundamentals and can perform them correctly, more or less. Kind of like a high school diploma. In arts such as karate, the average time required for this (all things being average and attending class three times weekly) is about three years. In Japan the grade of shodan in arts such as iaido may be achieved after one or two years of training. Of course, no special colored belt is worn. A certificate is awarded and that's it. When I see someone who claims to be an iaido practitioner sporting a colored belt (especially if it's worn on the outside of the hakama), I strongly suspect that an overactive ego is involved. It is the first grade given to adults; kyu grades are for children. Only after iaido began to become popular in the U.S. were kyu grades given to adults. Kind of changes your perspective, doesn't it?

I have met instructors who, as part of the shodan examination, require participants to undergo extremely rigorous physical exercises...some of these would make a Navy SeAL blush. Such fanfare isn't seen in Japan as part of an examination. Students may engage in vigorous physical conditioning exercises as a part of training, but not as a part of an examination.

To keep things in proper perspective, there are minimum time requirements for grades beyond shodan. A minimum of two years after receiving shodan is required before a promotion to nidan (2^nd grade black belt). Three years after nidan before sandan (3^rd), and so on. To receive a godan (5^th grade) requires considerable time! Just do the math. In Japan, you won't find any (legitimate) twenty year-old godans... Nor will you find any shodans or nidans acting as chief instructors of schools. There was a time when one had to reach a minimum grade of yondan (4^th grade) before one would be permitted to have his or her own school.

Gong-fu has never utilized colored belt grades because they were, for the most part, originally taught within the confines of one's family and everyone knew who was who and how skilled everyone was. Times change, however, and nowadays these arts have grown far beyond the boundaries of blood kin. I feel, as do many other gong-fu instructors, that a grading system of some kind is desperately needed. The All-China Sports Federation (of mainland China) instituted upper-level grades some time ago (known as “duan”), but achieving such grades requires performances of various modern wushu routines. For traditionalists, this was (and still is) regarded as unsuitable. I agree with them.

So, many different schools of traditional gong-fu have adopted their own grading systems. I would prefer to see them somehow become standardized as has been done in the different styles of karate but I doubt it'll happen in my lifetime.

BEGINNING AGAIN

 by Phillip Starr

In 2015 at the age of 66, I had the chance to study iaido (the art of drawing and cutting with the Japanese sword). I'd wanted to learn this special art since I was very young but back in those days, there weren't many iaido teachers in the U.S. When the art gained more popularity, I was still unable to study the art; the instructors lived on the coasts and I resided in the Midwest! Just my luck...

Life goes on, despite our disappointments and I taught gong-fu for several decades before meeting the gentleman who would offer to teach me iaido. I was thrilled! NOW, after all these years, I'd get to train in this art! And I dove in head first!

I was a beginner again, and that was okay (no, I didn't give up practicing gong-fu; I just started something new in addition to my “wife” art). I thought I had some idea of how to handle a katana (Japanese sword) properly...until I took up iaido. It took me at least two years just to figure out how to grip it properly. Even now, after more than four years of practice, I still foul it up now and then. Not only that, but the footwork is considerably different as well.

The katana is employed in a manner that is very different from Chinese swords. My favorite has always been the broadsword, but decades of practice with that weapon did me no good at all when I picked up a katana.

My teacher is a very patient man and that's fortunate for me. I've never been a quick study. He gently corrects me even after I've made the same error a thousand times! And now, after six years of practice, I still haven't taken an examination. I have no interest in obtaining rank; I just want to learn. I'd like to honor my teacher and take an exam, but I can scarcely afford to travel to the big regional or national events where they're held.

Some people have asked me about beginning again, especially in an art that is so different from the ones I've been practicing for over six decades. I tell them that it's really very enjoyable being a novice again. You're never too old to start something new...

WHEN IS IT GOOD ENOUGH?

 By Yang Shuangxing

You're in class and practicing the basic reverse punch. Again. God only knows how many reverse punches you've thrown since you started learning karate/gong-fu/taekwondo and you've been doing it for several years now. WHY do you have to keep practicing this fundamental technique? You can perform it very well...so, just WHEN will it be good enough that you can dispense with this boring practice?

Never.

The legendary masters of various arts and styles were all known to practice basics every day. Moreover, they weren't simply “lobbing” them out there; their mind were wholly focused on each and every technique. Moreover, according to my teacher, Master W. C. Chen, each had to be executed as if your life depended on it. This doesn't mean that they're performed with a lot of “oomph”, however.... each one one must be sharp and precise with a feeling akin to releasing an arrow from a bow.

Don't compare yourself with others as you practice. You are training for only one person...yourself. And remember, “practicing the basics”involves more than fundamental punches and kicks. It also involves stance and footwork, methods of body shifting, breathing techniques, and elementary form(s).