Chaos Reigns Supreme.
For those unfamiliar with martial arts - forms are choreographed sequences of martial movements, an ancient form of Shadow Boxing if you will. In Karate they are call 'Kata', in Kung Fu they are called 'Tao Lu'. Historically forms were used as a database to store your martial arts techniques; a way to practice when you did not have a partner or teacher available to train with.
A few highlights of why forms were used - 1. Most people at the time were illiterate. This provided a way to transfer knowledge. 2. Pen and Paper for drawing was not readily available to the average person, who would have no use for such anyway (being illiterate). 3. A vessel of knowledge that could be passed down through the ages from one person to the next. 4. As previously mentioned, a storehouse used for personal training; a way to practice your moves.
All this sounds good in premise, so where did it go wrong? It went wrong when function became absent from forms. In my case, after 7 years of training I had no practical knowledge of Kung Fu applications other than joint locking, which I trained as a separate component. I had no idea what the moves inside my forms were designed to do. Not only that, I could barely keep 20 forms fresh in my head without having to run back to videos. I had to make videos of myself doing those forms so I could keep records of what I had learned and not forget.
Whenever we would spar, there was no sign of any applications from the forms being translated to our fighting. I began to question everything, and to look deeper into my art and myself. Afterall, I had studied Tae Kwon Do early on, and I sought out Kung Fu 'specifically' so I could be a badass martial arts fighter. That wasn't happening.
The problem with collecting
Less is More!!!
This was a significant revelation to me. I began to recognize the flaw in my training practices. Immediately I started throwing away forms I didn't want; show forms, acrobatic forms, and anything that seemed too counter or conflicting to the forms I decided to keep. I also began researching the styles of kung fu that were of most interest to me. I began to PURGE.
Out of the Ashes
Eventually I had to narrow it down to Praying Mantis (my original Kung Fu style) and Tai Chi. I only kept Tai Chi because the two were so similar to one another in principles and motion, that I was able to focus on both. Following this pruning of the 'tree of knowledge', I sought out experts in those prospective styles to fill in the gaps created by my years of misspent training. That previous training served me well in the long run, but I could not help but feel discouraged and somewhat angry about all the time I had spent chasing things I thought were going to make me better but didn't. I felt like Gollum chasing the 'shiny precious' down every crevasse imaginable.
I eventually found people with the knowledge and know how I sought. Those that showed me how to do what I enjoy most - breaking things apart and figuring out how they work. With this knowledge I have been able to reconnect the past to the present and have a new found appreciation for the forms I have kept, and the depth of knowledge that they often hold.
Forms are often that library of techniques, and some are meant strictly for training and conditioning, but some of them are full of high level techniques. Things that break the rules in basic fighting. Things that, if one doesn't have a good foundation for fighting, they will get punished trying to pull off the moves in the form when they fight. The practical has to exist with the theoretical.
How do techniques get lost?
Even though I was ensuring they were handed something that would work if needed, two things would result: 1. They would be unable to use it for real; because they never practiced with a partner, and 2. After I taught them and was no longer watching over them, they would invariably change something through forgetfulness, laziness, or just a plain old desire to do a move different than the way it was taught.
If that change takes place, there is no recourse for the change because the move doesn't do anything other than pass through the air. It means nothing. It is martial dance. Now let's say they teach it to someone else...then what happens? The fighting application is lost; possibly for good if no one else exists that is carrying it on. Lost in one generation, that's all it takes.Without function, a form is just an empty shell subject to the flaw of human transmission. So ultimately, form should match function, and function should be realistic and achievable in full speed all out combat, otherwise we have nothing but a ghost of the past to practice and share.
I've had people ask in Tai Chi - "What do I do once I am done the form?" "What do I learn next?" My response: "Get better at it." To know something in and out, you have to practice it. To be proficient at it, one must do it over and over and over again. Only then can you become a Master of your art. Adding more is actually less, and masks the truth and higher levels from our eyes.
So how many forms is the right number?
Myself, I prefer a training set or two, and 1 hand form for the style I am trying to fight with. One weapon form for each weapon I am going to use. In conjunction with their fundamental fighting skills, I teach 2 basic forms to start (1 short, and 1 long), to prep people for learning the more complex 'fighting form'. The intricate movements found in a style such as Mantis can be difficult to learn in the air for beginners. The basic forms also provide them with something to compete with if that is their interest.
Ultimately it is up to the individual or the teacher of the system to decide what is correct for themselves and their students, this is based on my experiences and observations over the years. Good luck and Good Skill!
--
Randy Brown
Master Instructor/Owner
Plum Blossom Fitness Martial Arts
'Strength through Adversity.'
222 Great Rd.
Littleton, MA 01460
978-486-3095
http://www.PlumBlossomFitnessMartialArts.com
