I mentioned in one of my first posts that I think Chon-Ji is a great beginner's form. In this post, I'd like to look a little deeper at that and also take a look at how it compares to some of the basic forms of Tang Soo Do, Shotokan and WTF Taekwondo.
Chon-ji is translated to mean heaven and earth. This is fitting as the form has two very distinct parts. The form is cross shaped, putting it on a short list of Chang-Hon forms with a truly unique layout.
The first half of Chon-Ji consists of down block in a front stance followed by stepping forward straight punch. The second half of the form consists of inner forearm blocks in a back stance followed by stepping forward straight punch. The form ends with two punches forward and two punches moving backwards.
The techniques of the form are not that notable in and of their selves, but rather, become very interesting when looking at them on the turns of the form. The downward block in a front stance and the inner forearm block in a back stance coming off of 180 degree turns allow a new student to practice getting their hips involved in the execution of their techniques. It is my opinion that down block and inner forearm block are two of the best blocks for a student to practice putting their hips (and thus the whole power of their upper body) behind a technique. While turning, a student's hips should be opened up a bit in advance because of the turn -- this helps to show the proper torque of the hips that should be present on all blocks. Downward block - because it chambers much higher than its terminus gives a student ample time to turn the hip. The same is true about inner block - whether you chamber the block with your arms parallel or perpendicular to the ground, the 180 degree turn allows for plenty of time to position your hips back and land with timing of foot, hip and hand.
Early emphasis of the proper turn of the hips is essential in building a good martial artist. Not everyone is strong in the arms, so that hip turn is essential for those people to generate the kind of power it takes to make techniques hurt their opponents (where necessary). Conversely it is important for people who are upper body strong to develop the hip turn to attain maximum potential damage in their techniques.
As a form on its own, I think Chon-Ji is the perfect beginner form. When I look at other first forms (Pyung Ahn Cho Dan, Taegeuk Il Jang and Palgwe 1) the first thing I notice is that Chon-Ji is a much more simple form. Chonji has three techniques in it, where Pyung ahn cho dan has seven, TaeGuek Il Jang has five and Palgwe 1 has six. The other beginner forms are all similarly shaped with each other, as well as the forms that proceed them in their various systems. This is also a place where Chon-ji varies - being cross shaped it is wholly unique in the 24 Chang-Hon form sets. To me, Chon-Ji has a very simple and stated objective - proper hip turn during execution of techniques from the two main stances of the art. It does not act as an "introduction" to the rest of the Chang-Hon set but rather has its own goal and sticks to it. The other first forms all seem to be formulaic to what will proceed them. I don't think there is a problem with this - but I do like the approach that Chon-Ji takes.
I can't make an unbiased judgement of the first forms. I've done Chon-Ji, by default more than I have done any other form in the Chang-Hon set and I have never learned any of the other first forms. I like the simplicity of Chon-Ji and that it seems to be more about creating a strong foundation rather than being an opportunity to expose students to new techniques or to what is to come. My wife, who studied Moo Duk Kwan Tae Kwon Do for a while and knew both Palgwe 1 and Pyung Ahn Cho Dan finds the Chang-Hon significantly harder to learn. She cites that the different shape and lack of shape consistency was very challenging for her in her transition from her old forms to her new Chang-Hon forms. I don't get it, but I am native to the Chang-Hon, so I can't be unbiased. I am always curious what others think - please feel free to comment.
Friday, October 31, 2014
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Se-Jong: The Odd Form
Se-Jong is named after the great King Se-Jong. He oversaw the creation of Hangul, the Korean alphabet, and instituted many scientific policies in Korea. The form has 24 movements, one for each letter of the Korean alphabet.
I call Se-Jong the odd form for two main reasons. First, the architecture of the form is totally unique in the Chang-Hon pattern set. It is the only form that has absolutely no repeating moves. Although you do technically throw three punches, they are all different types of punch (high section, tension-mid and horizontal reverse). Because of the 24 individual techniques, some students struggle to learn this form. Where as many if not all of the forms are somewhat symmetrical, Se-jong can't be. The form itself follows a symetrical pattern, but since none of the techniques repeat you cannot call it symmetrical. This is little comfort for people who need symmetry to aid in learning a form. This first reason for my title of the "odd" form plays into the second reason -- namely the placement of the form in various schools and organizations around the world.
It may shock some of my readers to learn that my federation of schools has Se-Jong as a 2nd to 3rd dan required form, and not in it's traditionally placed 5th to 6th dan position. This gets to the crux of why this is my second reason for calling it an odd form. Depending on your point of view, the difficulty of this form may, or may not warrant such a high placement. I'll do my best to draw an objective argument and let you decide where the form should rest. Along with the placement of Eui-Am, Se-Jong, is well off the mark compared to my ITF brothers and sisters.
As I have stated in the past, when I think of difficult forms, I take several things into consideration. First, the physical aspect of the form -- the movements, and their transitions, and the toll they take on the practitioner. Hand in hand with the physical is the mental aspect of the form -- how much repetition and how much symmetry is present in the form. Typically a form with a lot of symmetry and a lot of repetition is not going to rank very high on my difficulty scale, of course there are exceptions like Moon-Moo where the difficulty is maxed via the physical side of my equation. Se-Jong is hard to pin point though.
While not containing many physically demanding techniques, Se-Jong asks for quite a lot of precision. This is best demonstrated on the main line returning to the starting point in the back half of the form. From a horse stance we launch a left round kick and on the re-chamber of the kick we move forward into an X stance. This requires a great deal of body control, and the case can be made that a 3rd dan candidate might not have the necessary skill set developed to land such a precise movement. Following this we see a rare diagonal stance -- or a horse stance with one foot slightly in front of the other. To make matters worse you step into it while moving horizontally from another X stance. That subtlety trips up our candidates testing for 3rd and often times that subtlety isn't mastered until well past the 3rd dan level. This form is also (in our configuration) the first time a student has to land from a one legged stance while executing a two handed technique in real speed. Landing the reverse pressing block is a place where many a candidate's timing is slightly off.
Although the form requires a great deal of subtle body control, the form is only 24 movements - making it as short as To-San, a yellow belt form. Because of these two conflicting areas: the lack of physically demanding techniques, but the overwhelming need for excellent precision, I find it hard to accept it's placement as either a 5th to 6th dan form or as a 2nd to 3rd dan form. It is also because of this "oddness" that Se-Jong is one of my favorite forms. It is a monument to the subtle lessons built into all forms that don't reveal themselves until you've practiced it many times. What do you think of the form, if you know it?
I call Se-Jong the odd form for two main reasons. First, the architecture of the form is totally unique in the Chang-Hon pattern set. It is the only form that has absolutely no repeating moves. Although you do technically throw three punches, they are all different types of punch (high section, tension-mid and horizontal reverse). Because of the 24 individual techniques, some students struggle to learn this form. Where as many if not all of the forms are somewhat symmetrical, Se-jong can't be. The form itself follows a symetrical pattern, but since none of the techniques repeat you cannot call it symmetrical. This is little comfort for people who need symmetry to aid in learning a form. This first reason for my title of the "odd" form plays into the second reason -- namely the placement of the form in various schools and organizations around the world.
It may shock some of my readers to learn that my federation of schools has Se-Jong as a 2nd to 3rd dan required form, and not in it's traditionally placed 5th to 6th dan position. This gets to the crux of why this is my second reason for calling it an odd form. Depending on your point of view, the difficulty of this form may, or may not warrant such a high placement. I'll do my best to draw an objective argument and let you decide where the form should rest. Along with the placement of Eui-Am, Se-Jong, is well off the mark compared to my ITF brothers and sisters.
As I have stated in the past, when I think of difficult forms, I take several things into consideration. First, the physical aspect of the form -- the movements, and their transitions, and the toll they take on the practitioner. Hand in hand with the physical is the mental aspect of the form -- how much repetition and how much symmetry is present in the form. Typically a form with a lot of symmetry and a lot of repetition is not going to rank very high on my difficulty scale, of course there are exceptions like Moon-Moo where the difficulty is maxed via the physical side of my equation. Se-Jong is hard to pin point though.
While not containing many physically demanding techniques, Se-Jong asks for quite a lot of precision. This is best demonstrated on the main line returning to the starting point in the back half of the form. From a horse stance we launch a left round kick and on the re-chamber of the kick we move forward into an X stance. This requires a great deal of body control, and the case can be made that a 3rd dan candidate might not have the necessary skill set developed to land such a precise movement. Following this we see a rare diagonal stance -- or a horse stance with one foot slightly in front of the other. To make matters worse you step into it while moving horizontally from another X stance. That subtlety trips up our candidates testing for 3rd and often times that subtlety isn't mastered until well past the 3rd dan level. This form is also (in our configuration) the first time a student has to land from a one legged stance while executing a two handed technique in real speed. Landing the reverse pressing block is a place where many a candidate's timing is slightly off.
Although the form requires a great deal of subtle body control, the form is only 24 movements - making it as short as To-San, a yellow belt form. Because of these two conflicting areas: the lack of physically demanding techniques, but the overwhelming need for excellent precision, I find it hard to accept it's placement as either a 5th to 6th dan form or as a 2nd to 3rd dan form. It is also because of this "oddness" that Se-Jong is one of my favorite forms. It is a monument to the subtle lessons built into all forms that don't reveal themselves until you've practiced it many times. What do you think of the form, if you know it?
Monday, October 6, 2014
Insecurity
"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the
strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them
better... "
When I was a lot more malleable I trained in a place with this famous portion of Teddy Roosevelt's Citizens in a Republic speech mounted on the wall. I thought I understood the mounted portion and I thought that I was living under it like a secret 6th tenant of TKD. I haven't been though - I've participated in conversations both in person and on the internet that is in fact the opposite of what this portion of the speech tries to instill.
We're all too critical in the martial arts. In almost every class, students come to me looking for the "right" way to do something. This is an art though, so what is "right" for one person is not going to be "right" for another. You have to pay attention and focus on the correctness at times, but being a martial artist is a never ending journey in which the milestones are reached at different times for travelers.
I see students shaking their head, or even worse, cursing under their breath when they know they make mistakes - completely forgetting that regular class is exactly the place they SHOULD be making mistakes. A mistake in the real world, in a self defense scenario is dangerous -- a mistake in class is not, so long as the student understands the mistake and makes an effort to remedy it. After years of being way too hard on myself as a practitioner I am now trying to keep my students from being so hard on themselves when they make mistakes. Rome wasn't built in a day, the saying goes, and neither were any good martial artists.
"...The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming"
It goes a lot further. If self criticism wasn't bad enough, martial artists also love to criticize anyone they see as inferior to themselves. I see it all the time on the internet. A "funny meme" or a video of really bad martial artists at a test or tournament gets posted and suddenly everyone commenting becomes a critic. This one boggles my mind - for a lot of reasons. First off I wonder why so many people passionately bash other practitioners when they are absolutely no threat to the bash-er in any way. Of course the rational answer to that is "a defense of the 'integrity' of the art". This one always makes me laugh out loud. If a handful of bad places could spoil the integrity of an entire subject matter we wouldn't have a used car industry. This is insecurity coupled with the incessant need for self validation that seems to me, sadly, to be a factor of human nature. If there is a bad school, putting out bad martial artists, that problem is going to resolve itself. My other problem with disparaging other artists is that if you look hard enough, you can find someone better than you at any given thing. There's only so many people who are truly elite at what they do. I am not sure where people get off thinking that they made it over the baseline of "acceptable" and based on the bravado I see in these discussions (both virtual and in person) I feel comfortable saying that a lot of people think they are a lot better at their art than they are. Sadly these conversations are not exclusive to the internet. Too many of these conversations have happened to me and I'm sorry that I ever took part in them.
"...who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
I don't think any of my non martial arts friends read this blog, so it is safe to say that if you are reading this, you are a martial artist. Take pride in the fact that you are not with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat! Stop caring and stop carrying baggage about the arts in regards to what other people are doing. Did you get into your art to gossip or to pass judgement? Do you get a special belt if you can prove that you are better than one of your classmates?
When you let that weight go, you'll find yourself in a remarkable place. I've only recently, through the writing of this post, come to a place that I feel is worthy of the term: epiphany. I carried that two ton monkey that is insecurity on my back for too long. My story of insecurity is complicated. One aspect of it though revolved around my test for third dan. A few weeks before my test it got back to me that some of my peers and superiors felt that I didn't deserve to be testing and that I shouldn't be testing. In searching for advice and dealing with an overwhelming amount of insecurity I asked a master I had been training under in college what he thought of these rumors He asked me "did your instructor say it was your time to test". Of course I answered yes, as I can't just show up to black belt testing and proclaim my intent to test. Without hesitation upon hearing me say "yes", he replied "then it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks".
It took me too many years to fully appreciate this - but I finally do. When I let that insecurity go, I found that my propensity to enjoy the art like I did in my early 20s was still there. If you cast off your insecurity and your need for validation; if you trust the instructors around you and understand that you are practicing a living art - not a science experiment, then you will find that you can accomplish more than you might have thought possible. I've watched insecurity hold back too many people including myself. That ended for me a few weeks ago when I started the draft of this post. I hope it will end for you too.
When I was a lot more malleable I trained in a place with this famous portion of Teddy Roosevelt's Citizens in a Republic speech mounted on the wall. I thought I understood the mounted portion and I thought that I was living under it like a secret 6th tenant of TKD. I haven't been though - I've participated in conversations both in person and on the internet that is in fact the opposite of what this portion of the speech tries to instill.
We're all too critical in the martial arts. In almost every class, students come to me looking for the "right" way to do something. This is an art though, so what is "right" for one person is not going to be "right" for another. You have to pay attention and focus on the correctness at times, but being a martial artist is a never ending journey in which the milestones are reached at different times for travelers.
I see students shaking their head, or even worse, cursing under their breath when they know they make mistakes - completely forgetting that regular class is exactly the place they SHOULD be making mistakes. A mistake in the real world, in a self defense scenario is dangerous -- a mistake in class is not, so long as the student understands the mistake and makes an effort to remedy it. After years of being way too hard on myself as a practitioner I am now trying to keep my students from being so hard on themselves when they make mistakes. Rome wasn't built in a day, the saying goes, and neither were any good martial artists.
"...The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming"
It goes a lot further. If self criticism wasn't bad enough, martial artists also love to criticize anyone they see as inferior to themselves. I see it all the time on the internet. A "funny meme" or a video of really bad martial artists at a test or tournament gets posted and suddenly everyone commenting becomes a critic. This one boggles my mind - for a lot of reasons. First off I wonder why so many people passionately bash other practitioners when they are absolutely no threat to the bash-er in any way. Of course the rational answer to that is "a defense of the 'integrity' of the art". This one always makes me laugh out loud. If a handful of bad places could spoil the integrity of an entire subject matter we wouldn't have a used car industry. This is insecurity coupled with the incessant need for self validation that seems to me, sadly, to be a factor of human nature. If there is a bad school, putting out bad martial artists, that problem is going to resolve itself. My other problem with disparaging other artists is that if you look hard enough, you can find someone better than you at any given thing. There's only so many people who are truly elite at what they do. I am not sure where people get off thinking that they made it over the baseline of "acceptable" and based on the bravado I see in these discussions (both virtual and in person) I feel comfortable saying that a lot of people think they are a lot better at their art than they are. Sadly these conversations are not exclusive to the internet. Too many of these conversations have happened to me and I'm sorry that I ever took part in them.
"...who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
I don't think any of my non martial arts friends read this blog, so it is safe to say that if you are reading this, you are a martial artist. Take pride in the fact that you are not with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat! Stop caring and stop carrying baggage about the arts in regards to what other people are doing. Did you get into your art to gossip or to pass judgement? Do you get a special belt if you can prove that you are better than one of your classmates?
When you let that weight go, you'll find yourself in a remarkable place. I've only recently, through the writing of this post, come to a place that I feel is worthy of the term: epiphany. I carried that two ton monkey that is insecurity on my back for too long. My story of insecurity is complicated. One aspect of it though revolved around my test for third dan. A few weeks before my test it got back to me that some of my peers and superiors felt that I didn't deserve to be testing and that I shouldn't be testing. In searching for advice and dealing with an overwhelming amount of insecurity I asked a master I had been training under in college what he thought of these rumors He asked me "did your instructor say it was your time to test". Of course I answered yes, as I can't just show up to black belt testing and proclaim my intent to test. Without hesitation upon hearing me say "yes", he replied "then it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks".
It took me too many years to fully appreciate this - but I finally do. When I let that insecurity go, I found that my propensity to enjoy the art like I did in my early 20s was still there. If you cast off your insecurity and your need for validation; if you trust the instructors around you and understand that you are practicing a living art - not a science experiment, then you will find that you can accomplish more than you might have thought possible. I've watched insecurity hold back too many people including myself. That ended for me a few weeks ago when I started the draft of this post. I hope it will end for you too.
Monday, September 22, 2014
Moon-Moo - the Ultimate Taekwon-Do Form
If there was a form that captured the essence of what Taekwon-Do really is, that form would be Moon-Moo. Although I do not yet know Tong-Il, I have seen it enough to award Moon-Moo the title. I will qualify this statement by saying that my school still does Ko-Dang, and never formally adopted Juche. Once upon a time, when Youtube was new and I was a more rebellious black belt I taught myself Juche. Although I have not continued to practice and have subsequently forgotten Juche, I remember it well and stand by my assertion that Moon-Moo is the quintessential TKD form. I'm not trying to diminish Juche, I simply don't have a strong background with it because in my TKD universe - it really doesn't exist.
Moon-Moo is the third longest form coming in only behind So-San and Yoo-Sin at 61 moves. It is named after King Moon-Moo, the 30th king of the Silla dynasty.
It would be easy to look at Moon-Moo as the quintessential TKD form from the kicking requirements alone however there's a lot more going on in Moon-Moo than tension side kicks and tension spinning kicks. Moon-Moo is a powerful form. There are no soft moves in the form. Every technique you execute is like a stormwave crashing relentlessly on the beach that is your imaginary opponents. Taekwondo is an art that finds its gracefulness in the beauty of raw power; Moon-Moo embodies that grace.
I'm not going to break down the form move by move - there are a lot of moves but thankfully this form has three "acts" that I can look at. Act 1 sees the practitioner do the most demanding moves. Here you have tension side kicks, tension spinning hook kicks (some schools do the side kicks moving backwards from the one legged stance tense as well - we do not). The entire first act of the form is a monument to the need for perfect body control, and with perfect body control comes enormous power.
Act two starts with the downward palm block, front leg front kick into side hammer fist strike, quick scoop/slide, knife hand down block into step in side kick spinning hook kick. The change from act 1's graceful power to act 2's pure power is a stark contrast, which only makes both acts stand out as the varying contrasts play off of each other. When a tense move proceeds a very fast move - the fast move often looks even faster and stronger. In Moon-Moo this is demonstrated in the contrast between the tension kicks in the beginning and the hard fast kicks in the middle.
The final act builds with more kicks in a short time than any other Chang-Hon form and ends with a jumping crescendo. Act 3 begins with twisting kicks and forearm blocks. Following these techniques come a low waving kick, into a checking side kick high side kick. This is repeated, and then after turning reverse punch comes the coup de grace: two jumping downward punches, landing in X stances and finishing with a jump back kick from an X stance. The form ends after this jump kick with a stepping back rising reverse arc hand block with a straight punch.
There is nothing soft, and there is nothing ambiguous in the 61 movements of Moon-Moo. The form is a perfect demonstration of the power TKD should give its practitioner and of the power that is inherent in the art itself. My only complaint about this form is that it features so late in order of forms. I'd have killed to know this form in my 20s instead of learning it in my mid 30s. I wonder if the architecture of Juche was in regard to the challenges Moon-Moo coming so late in the curriculum. Maybe some of you have the answer to that?
Moon-Moo is the third longest form coming in only behind So-San and Yoo-Sin at 61 moves. It is named after King Moon-Moo, the 30th king of the Silla dynasty.
It would be easy to look at Moon-Moo as the quintessential TKD form from the kicking requirements alone however there's a lot more going on in Moon-Moo than tension side kicks and tension spinning kicks. Moon-Moo is a powerful form. There are no soft moves in the form. Every technique you execute is like a stormwave crashing relentlessly on the beach that is your imaginary opponents. Taekwondo is an art that finds its gracefulness in the beauty of raw power; Moon-Moo embodies that grace.
I'm not going to break down the form move by move - there are a lot of moves but thankfully this form has three "acts" that I can look at. Act 1 sees the practitioner do the most demanding moves. Here you have tension side kicks, tension spinning hook kicks (some schools do the side kicks moving backwards from the one legged stance tense as well - we do not). The entire first act of the form is a monument to the need for perfect body control, and with perfect body control comes enormous power.
Act two starts with the downward palm block, front leg front kick into side hammer fist strike, quick scoop/slide, knife hand down block into step in side kick spinning hook kick. The change from act 1's graceful power to act 2's pure power is a stark contrast, which only makes both acts stand out as the varying contrasts play off of each other. When a tense move proceeds a very fast move - the fast move often looks even faster and stronger. In Moon-Moo this is demonstrated in the contrast between the tension kicks in the beginning and the hard fast kicks in the middle.
The final act builds with more kicks in a short time than any other Chang-Hon form and ends with a jumping crescendo. Act 3 begins with twisting kicks and forearm blocks. Following these techniques come a low waving kick, into a checking side kick high side kick. This is repeated, and then after turning reverse punch comes the coup de grace: two jumping downward punches, landing in X stances and finishing with a jump back kick from an X stance. The form ends after this jump kick with a stepping back rising reverse arc hand block with a straight punch.
There is nothing soft, and there is nothing ambiguous in the 61 movements of Moon-Moo. The form is a perfect demonstration of the power TKD should give its practitioner and of the power that is inherent in the art itself. My only complaint about this form is that it features so late in order of forms. I'd have killed to know this form in my 20s instead of learning it in my mid 30s. I wonder if the architecture of Juche was in regard to the challenges Moon-Moo coming so late in the curriculum. Maybe some of you have the answer to that?
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Ge-Baek - The Great Form
Ge-Baek was named after a great (or not so great) general of
the Baek-Je dynasty. Legend has it then
when facing what would be the battle of his lifetime he killed his wife and son,
to not be distracted by thoughts of them in the coming battle. He faced overwhelming odds, fought
courageously in spite of that and caused heavy casualties to the Silla and Tang
force he faced. In the end however Ge-Baek lost when he executed a prisoner
which raised the morale of the Silla army, strengthening their resolve.
Ge-Baek is a super dynamic form. In our system, it is the first second degree
black belt form, but for many systems and schools it is the last first degree
black belt forms. I think this is
important because there is a bit of inconsistency between where some schools
place certain forms. As I move the blog
forward, some of the context that I use to look at these forms is going to
depend where the form falls in the overall student’s progression. This time at least, I get to write about a
form that isn’t very complicated in that point of view because Ge-Baek
generally falls into the end of the first, start of the second degree black
belt level.
Ge-Baek is an awesome form for a lot of reasons. On a technical level, it is pretty
diverse. There are a few sequences that
repeat, but for the most part, the form consists of unique movements. Ge-Baek is a gateway form to what I consider
“the technique that is not a technique” or namely the turn in place. If you know the form, you know that I am
talking about turning your entire body as a sequence in the form, without
advancing or retreating and in the process throwing a new technique. Although you do this “technique” twice in the
end of Kwang-Gae, turning in place features prominently and as the centermost
theme in Ge-Baek. The diagram of Ge-Baek
is a straight line and a form that simply moved backwards and forward facing
the same direction would not be very challenging. Turning in place is, to use a tired cliché,
challenging on steroids. Many a fast
forms learner has stumbled when learning this form.
Ge-Baek, is a proving ground. Learning the turns and remembering them is
hard, mastering them and hitting great stances with good timing is even
harder. Further, it prepares you for
some of the more challenging forms that also feature turning in place. In addition to turning in place, Ge-Baek
features a slew of notable new techniques.
Twisting kick – a kick designed to kick someone standing directly behind
you, without the kicker turning to face is introduced. A block we call the nine shaped block is also
introduced. This block is meant to break
away a grab and possibly break the arms of a person grabbing you. The form also features several sequences of
techniques that build on the strengths acquired in earlier forms. That being said, when I think of Ge-Baek I think of how much I struggled to grasp the turn in place. Choong-Jang, Sam-Il, Choi-Yong, Eui-Am,
Yon-Gae, So-san, and Tong-Il all feature various amounts of turning in
place. It is my belief that success in
these later forms will rely a bit on having a very strong Ge-Baek.
The flow of the form is dynamic, which really makes the form
so appealing. Unlike a lot of forms
which look more like marching exercises, Ge-Baek looks like a fight against
imaginary opponents. Because of this it
is an excellent tournament piece for competitors. Our school and the local Tang
Soo Do schools have had legendary competitions between Ge-Baek and Jin-Do
practitioners. Personally I think
Ge-Baek is the better form, however I think Jin-Do has a slightly higher degree
of difficulty. Regardless, for low dans
there is nothing like judging a good Ge-Baek vs a good Jin-Do.
I think of Ge-Baek as the first real black belt form. It is a form with a difficulty far above the
black belt forms that come before it.
When performed by a proficient black belt, I believe it to be one of the
most beautiful forms of the 24 because it so simply captures what is unique and
beautiful about the art of Taekwon-do.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
The Japanese Influence
It is hard to deny the Japanese influence in Taekwon-Do. I've always wondered why a country that was subjugated by the Japanese would create a fighting art that reflects many of the Japanese arts tendencies. Although in the early 80s GM Choi tried to remedy this by introducing sine wave movement, the fundamental Japanese-ness was already there in the roots. I often wonder if the goal was ever to create something wholly unique, or if just having their own art was enough. I have read things that point strongly at both arguments. Since I don't have a time machine, I'm left with what I know, and what I think.
I know that the basic fundamental stances are all exactly the same in concept as the Shotokan stances. Additionally the execution of many of the basic techniques are similar enough to be called the same. By this I mean if the chamber of a certain technique is different, but otherwise the technique is the same, then well - they are similar enough to be the same. Before sine wave, we even moved in the same C shaped movements with an emphasis on heads not moving up and down.
A person can argue that there are only so many ways to kick and punch, but Capoeira has kicks and punches and they look nothing like TKD or Shotokan. The same can be said about the execution of most Kung-Fu techniques. They really don't look anything like TKD or Japanese Karate. Even the art of Taekyon which TKD is supposed to be a direct descendant of looks much different when compared to TKD. (In his book The Killing Art Alex Gillis gives us a great reason why this is - do check it out). Shotokan and the pre-sine wave version of TKD are in my opinion two sides to the same coin; TKD is too close to Shotokan in my opinion not to be a direct descendant of the Japanese art.
It's not just the techniques though. If it were, I'd call the above paragraph circumstantial. I mentioned in one of my first posts the similarity between certain Shotokan forms and the Chang-Hon patterns. This cannot be more apparent than when you compare Tekki Sandan with Po-eun. I put this together, watch both side by side here:
http://www.youtubedoubler.com/?video1=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DXt_-ZinW6sg&start1=0&video2=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DY0aqGAcY2ac&start2=4&authorName=TKDDK
These are unique forms - I can't speak to the body of work of Shotokan, but I can say that there are no other Chang-Hon forms that consist of a form made up almost entirely of straddle (horse) stances. (there are only two back stances in the whole form of Po-Eun) Additionally, the make up of the technique of both forms is very similar as the mashup above should show. This is more than coincidence in my opinion.
Two forms, more similar than dissimilar from two different arts in which one art was a direct response to the others. Very interesting indeed. Of course, the Tekki / Po-Eun link is not the only one. There are sequences of movements in many Shotokan forms that show up in the TKD Chang-Hon system. Gojushiho-Sho throws a series of quick low section knife hand blocks that we see almost exactly in Ge-Baek for instance. Other shotokan form sequences can be seen in Tan-Gun, and in Yoo-Sin almost move for move. I believe it is impossible for this to be coincidence.
What does it all mean? Are these similarities secret homages to the arts the Korean architects studied in their youth? Is this an attempt to slight the Japanese practitioners by taking their moves and doing them differently (and maybe in a Korean sense "better"?) I don't have the answer. I believe it to probably be a bit of both. There was probably an understanding that the Japanese were on to something, or else the fighting arts wouldn't have lived as long as they did. I also believe though that in the 50s when TKD was being created, there was a lot of resentment towards the Japanese and it wouldn't surprise me in the least bit if some of the technique sequences are an attempt at a slight of the predecessor.
What do you think? Please share your insight in the comments.
I know that the basic fundamental stances are all exactly the same in concept as the Shotokan stances. Additionally the execution of many of the basic techniques are similar enough to be called the same. By this I mean if the chamber of a certain technique is different, but otherwise the technique is the same, then well - they are similar enough to be the same. Before sine wave, we even moved in the same C shaped movements with an emphasis on heads not moving up and down.
A person can argue that there are only so many ways to kick and punch, but Capoeira has kicks and punches and they look nothing like TKD or Shotokan. The same can be said about the execution of most Kung-Fu techniques. They really don't look anything like TKD or Japanese Karate. Even the art of Taekyon which TKD is supposed to be a direct descendant of looks much different when compared to TKD. (In his book The Killing Art Alex Gillis gives us a great reason why this is - do check it out). Shotokan and the pre-sine wave version of TKD are in my opinion two sides to the same coin; TKD is too close to Shotokan in my opinion not to be a direct descendant of the Japanese art.
It's not just the techniques though. If it were, I'd call the above paragraph circumstantial. I mentioned in one of my first posts the similarity between certain Shotokan forms and the Chang-Hon patterns. This cannot be more apparent than when you compare Tekki Sandan with Po-eun. I put this together, watch both side by side here:
http://www.youtubedoubler.com/?video1=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DXt_-ZinW6sg&start1=0&video2=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DY0aqGAcY2ac&start2=4&authorName=TKDDK
These are unique forms - I can't speak to the body of work of Shotokan, but I can say that there are no other Chang-Hon forms that consist of a form made up almost entirely of straddle (horse) stances. (there are only two back stances in the whole form of Po-Eun) Additionally, the make up of the technique of both forms is very similar as the mashup above should show. This is more than coincidence in my opinion.
Two forms, more similar than dissimilar from two different arts in which one art was a direct response to the others. Very interesting indeed. Of course, the Tekki / Po-Eun link is not the only one. There are sequences of movements in many Shotokan forms that show up in the TKD Chang-Hon system. Gojushiho-Sho throws a series of quick low section knife hand blocks that we see almost exactly in Ge-Baek for instance. Other shotokan form sequences can be seen in Tan-Gun, and in Yoo-Sin almost move for move. I believe it is impossible for this to be coincidence.
What does it all mean? Are these similarities secret homages to the arts the Korean architects studied in their youth? Is this an attempt to slight the Japanese practitioners by taking their moves and doing them differently (and maybe in a Korean sense "better"?) I don't have the answer. I believe it to probably be a bit of both. There was probably an understanding that the Japanese were on to something, or else the fighting arts wouldn't have lived as long as they did. I also believe though that in the 50s when TKD was being created, there was a lot of resentment towards the Japanese and it wouldn't surprise me in the least bit if some of the technique sequences are an attempt at a slight of the predecessor.
What do you think? Please share your insight in the comments.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Macro Patterns Final
I have explored the first nine forms of the Chang-Hon system in the "Macro" series, and it is time to close the book on them. In this post my hope is to tie up my thoughts on the first nine forms as a whole. I'll discuss, in general, the make up of technique in the first nine, and their order. I'll also write about how the forms relate to teaching a solid foundation of the art for a first degree black belt about to embark on the next leg of their journey.
The first nine forms are a haphazard collection of need to know skills. Individually they stand strong. If you take any one form, and look at it in a vacuum so to speak, you'll see that there are very good and very necessary lessons being taught in each. I say the forms are haphazard though because the forms are too similar in some parts of the progression, and too dissimilar in other places. It creates a kind of "jumble" of knowledge on the way to black belt.
Take Tan-Gun and To-San. The ending sequence of moves in both forms work on similar concepts with similar techniques. I don't think I have ever seen a yellow belt at one point or another, not confuse the endings of these forms and I've seen far too many students confuse the endings during a test. I wouldn't tinker with the internals of a form. That would almost be sacrilege from my point of view, however if I were running my own program, I might change the order of the form stream, since there is already a precedence of other schools doing this.
In my opinion, Won-Hyo, would follow Tan-Gun better, as the twin forearm block is introduced in Tan-Gun and then is thrown in a three move combination in Won-Hyo. Furthermore, the angling in To-San seems out of place and would be a better predecessor to Yul-Gok in my mind. These minor changes in order would keep themes consistent in belt rank, and the substitutions do not force a student to learn something that is more difficult earlier. Ultimately you could make a case that Won-Hyo is harder than To-San on the content of technique, but I believe To-San to be the harder form to execute with high rank quality proficiency.
In this setup, Yul-Gok is still your gateway to the advanced level. I think this is important because I think Yul-Gok combines much of what you do in the earlier forms and acts as a bit of a final exam for all that came before it.
I can't make a case for changing the final four forms. Rather, I can't make a case I feel strongly for. I think there still is a haphazardness to the last four forms, but I don't think that it can be easily fixed by moving the forms around. They are four unique forms, and while once learned they give you a "toolbox" to work from, there is no progression like there is with the lower forms. That is a theme that carries on in the black belt forms for the most part, but the lack of "progression" makes these forms more difficult than they necessarily need to be (in my opinion). At the end of it all though, I believe that by being proficient in the first nine forms, a student is ready to tackle what comes in the black belt forms.
If the end result though is favorable you might wonder why I think it is so important to worry about the form to form transitions. Simply stated, it's easy for someone with two decades experience in the art to take what they learned in their first years for granted especially when you are still training, and still pursuing knowledge. I make it a point to remind lower ranking students that there are always lessons to be learned in the low forms. A good black belt is made by constantly improving on the foundation they received their rank on. These posts I hope shed some insight into how to think of the forms past the mentality of "oh, that's a green belt form".
The first nine forms are a haphazard collection of need to know skills. Individually they stand strong. If you take any one form, and look at it in a vacuum so to speak, you'll see that there are very good and very necessary lessons being taught in each. I say the forms are haphazard though because the forms are too similar in some parts of the progression, and too dissimilar in other places. It creates a kind of "jumble" of knowledge on the way to black belt.
Take Tan-Gun and To-San. The ending sequence of moves in both forms work on similar concepts with similar techniques. I don't think I have ever seen a yellow belt at one point or another, not confuse the endings of these forms and I've seen far too many students confuse the endings during a test. I wouldn't tinker with the internals of a form. That would almost be sacrilege from my point of view, however if I were running my own program, I might change the order of the form stream, since there is already a precedence of other schools doing this.
In my opinion, Won-Hyo, would follow Tan-Gun better, as the twin forearm block is introduced in Tan-Gun and then is thrown in a three move combination in Won-Hyo. Furthermore, the angling in To-San seems out of place and would be a better predecessor to Yul-Gok in my mind. These minor changes in order would keep themes consistent in belt rank, and the substitutions do not force a student to learn something that is more difficult earlier. Ultimately you could make a case that Won-Hyo is harder than To-San on the content of technique, but I believe To-San to be the harder form to execute with high rank quality proficiency.
In this setup, Yul-Gok is still your gateway to the advanced level. I think this is important because I think Yul-Gok combines much of what you do in the earlier forms and acts as a bit of a final exam for all that came before it.
I can't make a case for changing the final four forms. Rather, I can't make a case I feel strongly for. I think there still is a haphazardness to the last four forms, but I don't think that it can be easily fixed by moving the forms around. They are four unique forms, and while once learned they give you a "toolbox" to work from, there is no progression like there is with the lower forms. That is a theme that carries on in the black belt forms for the most part, but the lack of "progression" makes these forms more difficult than they necessarily need to be (in my opinion). At the end of it all though, I believe that by being proficient in the first nine forms, a student is ready to tackle what comes in the black belt forms.
If the end result though is favorable you might wonder why I think it is so important to worry about the form to form transitions. Simply stated, it's easy for someone with two decades experience in the art to take what they learned in their first years for granted especially when you are still training, and still pursuing knowledge. I make it a point to remind lower ranking students that there are always lessons to be learned in the low forms. A good black belt is made by constantly improving on the foundation they received their rank on. These posts I hope shed some insight into how to think of the forms past the mentality of "oh, that's a green belt form".
Monday, August 4, 2014
Macro Patterns Part 4
In this, the final Macro Patterns entry of the lower forms, we'll take a look at Hwa-rang and Choong-Moo.
By the construct of the past posts, Hwa-Rang and Choong-Moo are the hardest forms of the non black belt forms. Neither form is very repetitive, Although coming in at only 29 and 30 movements respectively, the complexity and variety of technique make the combination of Hwa-Rang and Choong-Moo very deserving as the gateway forms to the black belt forms.
Hwa-Rang is interesting right on the first movement. The tense palm block / strike illustrates a fundamental tenant of TKD that is often lost during the switch from forms to fighting; namely the concept that all blocks should be strikes. I'm not prepared to get into it more than that in this post, but suffice it to say the first move of Hwa-Rang illustrates a technique that can clearly be used as either a block or strike. I make special note of this because I've seen different instructors over 20 years swear it was one over the other more times than I can remember. I think the important lesson of the first move of Hwa-Rang is that all blocks should be strikes. The art is built on the notion that you make your enemy regret ever throwing an attack at you. It's hard to execute blocks as a strike in real time and so I think it is an aspect of the art that gets lost sometimes.
Another interesting feature of Hwa-Rang is that it is the first form to include a round house kick. A very respected teacher once told me that he believed round kick to be the hardest of the basic kicks to correctly execute and thus it features so late in the form set. I think I could write a whole post on round kick vs side kick as the hardest basic kick to master and execute. In the end, I agree that round kick is harder, but a strong case can certainly be made for both. Either way, Hwa-Rang is also the first form to feature back to back kicks - another theme that will come to feature prominently in many of the forms to come.
Choong-Moo is in my opinion not only the hardest of the non black belt level forms, but also is one of the best forms in the Chang-hon set. The form is a final exam, taking many of the lessons introduced in the earlier forms, and rolling them into one. Choong-Moo is an excellent primer for the black belt forms to come. Aside from having a few moves that are physically challenging to perform at all, let alone correctly and with proper timing, Choong-Moo features sequences that help a student prepare for the next level of forms training. Notable examples are the combination round kick back side kick, the round kick off on a 45 degree angle, and the rising X block off of the double side kick combination at the end of the form.
Hwa-Rang and Choong-Moo are masterpiece forms. They are simple in layout - both using a mostly I shaped pattern, but both feature a range of dynamic technique that really put to test the skills that a student should have learned in getting to this point.
By the construct of the past posts, Hwa-Rang and Choong-Moo are the hardest forms of the non black belt forms. Neither form is very repetitive, Although coming in at only 29 and 30 movements respectively, the complexity and variety of technique make the combination of Hwa-Rang and Choong-Moo very deserving as the gateway forms to the black belt forms.
Hwa-Rang is interesting right on the first movement. The tense palm block / strike illustrates a fundamental tenant of TKD that is often lost during the switch from forms to fighting; namely the concept that all blocks should be strikes. I'm not prepared to get into it more than that in this post, but suffice it to say the first move of Hwa-Rang illustrates a technique that can clearly be used as either a block or strike. I make special note of this because I've seen different instructors over 20 years swear it was one over the other more times than I can remember. I think the important lesson of the first move of Hwa-Rang is that all blocks should be strikes. The art is built on the notion that you make your enemy regret ever throwing an attack at you. It's hard to execute blocks as a strike in real time and so I think it is an aspect of the art that gets lost sometimes.
Another interesting feature of Hwa-Rang is that it is the first form to include a round house kick. A very respected teacher once told me that he believed round kick to be the hardest of the basic kicks to correctly execute and thus it features so late in the form set. I think I could write a whole post on round kick vs side kick as the hardest basic kick to master and execute. In the end, I agree that round kick is harder, but a strong case can certainly be made for both. Either way, Hwa-Rang is also the first form to feature back to back kicks - another theme that will come to feature prominently in many of the forms to come.
Choong-Moo is in my opinion not only the hardest of the non black belt level forms, but also is one of the best forms in the Chang-hon set. The form is a final exam, taking many of the lessons introduced in the earlier forms, and rolling them into one. Choong-Moo is an excellent primer for the black belt forms to come. Aside from having a few moves that are physically challenging to perform at all, let alone correctly and with proper timing, Choong-Moo features sequences that help a student prepare for the next level of forms training. Notable examples are the combination round kick back side kick, the round kick off on a 45 degree angle, and the rising X block off of the double side kick combination at the end of the form.
Hwa-Rang and Choong-Moo are masterpiece forms. They are simple in layout - both using a mostly I shaped pattern, but both feature a range of dynamic technique that really put to test the skills that a student should have learned in getting to this point.
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Toi-Gye Under the Microscope - Practicality
Instead of focusing on two forms, and picking a theme, I wanted to introduce a new feature of my blog. The "Under the Microscope" features will take one form and look at it a bit deeper. I think Toi-Gye is a great place to start for this. We're also going to slightly explore practicality in forms because there is a lack of it in Toi-Gye.
Toi-Gye is an interesting form for a few general reasons. At 37 movements, it is the second longest form of the first nine. It is also in my opinion one of the hardest of the first forms to learn, and certainly is tough to master. It features repetition, but the difficulty of the techniques in sequence, the variety of technique and the lack of good practicality in the technique make it formidable. The lack of practicality trips students up because it is hard to execute a technique correctly if you can't visualize what you are supposed to be doing. All of these factors nullify the repetition and make it a difficult form.
The opening sequence starts off very practical, inner forearm block into low section spear finger (or palm strike - depending on your point of view - regardless a strike to the groin). This is followed up by a pulling outer forearm block and down block thrown simultaneously. Now, taking these techniques at face value it seems very unlikely that you would choose such a movement in the real world. From the low groin strike it would make much more sense to just step away from an attack. You are in a good position to step back with either leg really. Again, I'm leaving certain viable interpretations of that move out, and only looking at the face value of a simultaneous outer and down block.
After the repeat of this sequence we see a practical Xblock low followed by the sort of practical twin high punch. Front kick and punch reverse punch follow - all practical, and probably the easiest sequence in the entire form.
What comes next is by far and away, the most peculiar moves in all of the traditional Chang-Hon forms. From the reverse punch we move to what can be best described as "stand like a Korean general in a photograph". We scoop from the reverse punch to standing sideways on our primary line with our fists on our hips as if we were angry at someone. There are ways to interpret this move as an actual TKD move and there are similar looking techniques in Gojushio Sho of Shotokan and in Tang-Soo-Do's Jin-Do. In both of these cases though, after assuming the position, there is a 45 degree turn of the hips to indicate a kind of shoulder block. That's not the case in Toi-Gye where the move feels like a pose rather than anything practical.
I can think of a practical interpretation of the move in Toi-Gye quite easily. The problem with interpretation at this point is that a lot of people (in my opinion) disregard Occam's razor in doing so. Take a standard front kick thrown in a form - you could interpret it as "just a front kick" or you could interpret it as an escape from an ankle grab from the guy you just knocked down on the previous move. While the later explanation is technically viable, it's not in my opinion a very probably interpretation. Just because you can think outside the box and come up with an alternate view of what "could" be happening, doesn't make that a practical interpretation in my opinion. Thinking outside of the box is fun, but instructors should not put their need to seem "smart" in the way of logic and common sense.
From this point of the form, we launch into the 2-3-1 sequence of W shaped blocks. This is a monument to impracticality. Why you would Wblock so much, in so many ways and finish it with a low reverse guarding block is befuddling.
Arc-hand grab into knee strike speaks for itself, as does the turn to knife hand guarding block, the front kick, spearfinger and the repeat of that sequence. The down block backfist combination is not the most practical move, but doesn't seem like it is as outlandish as a W shape block to pull off in a practical scenario.
The final piece of impracticality though comes in the "big move" of the form. A jumping, low section X block in an X stance. Coming up - I could not wait to learn this form, for this move alone. It is unfortunately, completely impractical. Why would you need to jump over something and then perform a low section block in a stance designed to lower your upper body? Although I can come up with several reasons why this might be necessary, none of them speak with any kind of real logic. To a certain extent I believe that certain sequences, or certain movements are more for art, and do not require a logical explanation. Also as we'll see later in this post, the impractical can teach us something valuable, while having us perform something seemingly impractical.
The form finishes with downward knife hand blocks followed by circular blocks - this repeats and the form ends with a punch. This ending sequence is a wonderful lesson of how to transition from front to back stance properly and quickly. It is a shining beacon of practicality in an otherwise impractical form. That being said - does practicality matter?
Ultimately, I don't believe it does. Although many of the sequences of movements in Toi-Gye are impractical, there is something valuable happening.
The movements of Toi-Gye teach valuable skills while not being 100% practical techniques. Toi-Gye is a form of "complicated double movements" - meaning you are moving both hands very independent of each other. Simultaneous outer and down block, X block into double punch, "stand like a general", W block, down block back fist, low section X block in an X stance, twin knife hand block low, circular block...these are all techniques that require the use of both hands and most of these techniques require a more complicated "flight path" than standard reaction force (equal and opposite) movement.
You are practicing all of this in one form. So while it is easy to dismiss Toi-Gye as being impractical and thus "worthless" to do so would be to ignore the super valuable fundamental skills being taught - albeit in a round about "wax on, wax off" kind of way.
Toi-Gye is an interesting form for a few general reasons. At 37 movements, it is the second longest form of the first nine. It is also in my opinion one of the hardest of the first forms to learn, and certainly is tough to master. It features repetition, but the difficulty of the techniques in sequence, the variety of technique and the lack of good practicality in the technique make it formidable. The lack of practicality trips students up because it is hard to execute a technique correctly if you can't visualize what you are supposed to be doing. All of these factors nullify the repetition and make it a difficult form.
The opening sequence starts off very practical, inner forearm block into low section spear finger (or palm strike - depending on your point of view - regardless a strike to the groin). This is followed up by a pulling outer forearm block and down block thrown simultaneously. Now, taking these techniques at face value it seems very unlikely that you would choose such a movement in the real world. From the low groin strike it would make much more sense to just step away from an attack. You are in a good position to step back with either leg really. Again, I'm leaving certain viable interpretations of that move out, and only looking at the face value of a simultaneous outer and down block.
After the repeat of this sequence we see a practical Xblock low followed by the sort of practical twin high punch. Front kick and punch reverse punch follow - all practical, and probably the easiest sequence in the entire form.
What comes next is by far and away, the most peculiar moves in all of the traditional Chang-Hon forms. From the reverse punch we move to what can be best described as "stand like a Korean general in a photograph". We scoop from the reverse punch to standing sideways on our primary line with our fists on our hips as if we were angry at someone. There are ways to interpret this move as an actual TKD move and there are similar looking techniques in Gojushio Sho of Shotokan and in Tang-Soo-Do's Jin-Do. In both of these cases though, after assuming the position, there is a 45 degree turn of the hips to indicate a kind of shoulder block. That's not the case in Toi-Gye where the move feels like a pose rather than anything practical.
I can think of a practical interpretation of the move in Toi-Gye quite easily. The problem with interpretation at this point is that a lot of people (in my opinion) disregard Occam's razor in doing so. Take a standard front kick thrown in a form - you could interpret it as "just a front kick" or you could interpret it as an escape from an ankle grab from the guy you just knocked down on the previous move. While the later explanation is technically viable, it's not in my opinion a very probably interpretation. Just because you can think outside the box and come up with an alternate view of what "could" be happening, doesn't make that a practical interpretation in my opinion. Thinking outside of the box is fun, but instructors should not put their need to seem "smart" in the way of logic and common sense.
From this point of the form, we launch into the 2-3-1 sequence of W shaped blocks. This is a monument to impracticality. Why you would Wblock so much, in so many ways and finish it with a low reverse guarding block is befuddling.
Arc-hand grab into knee strike speaks for itself, as does the turn to knife hand guarding block, the front kick, spearfinger and the repeat of that sequence. The down block backfist combination is not the most practical move, but doesn't seem like it is as outlandish as a W shape block to pull off in a practical scenario.
The final piece of impracticality though comes in the "big move" of the form. A jumping, low section X block in an X stance. Coming up - I could not wait to learn this form, for this move alone. It is unfortunately, completely impractical. Why would you need to jump over something and then perform a low section block in a stance designed to lower your upper body? Although I can come up with several reasons why this might be necessary, none of them speak with any kind of real logic. To a certain extent I believe that certain sequences, or certain movements are more for art, and do not require a logical explanation. Also as we'll see later in this post, the impractical can teach us something valuable, while having us perform something seemingly impractical.
The form finishes with downward knife hand blocks followed by circular blocks - this repeats and the form ends with a punch. This ending sequence is a wonderful lesson of how to transition from front to back stance properly and quickly. It is a shining beacon of practicality in an otherwise impractical form. That being said - does practicality matter?
Ultimately, I don't believe it does. Although many of the sequences of movements in Toi-Gye are impractical, there is something valuable happening.
The movements of Toi-Gye teach valuable skills while not being 100% practical techniques. Toi-Gye is a form of "complicated double movements" - meaning you are moving both hands very independent of each other. Simultaneous outer and down block, X block into double punch, "stand like a general", W block, down block back fist, low section X block in an X stance, twin knife hand block low, circular block...these are all techniques that require the use of both hands and most of these techniques require a more complicated "flight path" than standard reaction force (equal and opposite) movement.
You are practicing all of this in one form. So while it is easy to dismiss Toi-Gye as being impractical and thus "worthless" to do so would be to ignore the super valuable fundamental skills being taught - albeit in a round about "wax on, wax off" kind of way.
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Macro-Patterns Part 3
Our next two forms are Yul-Gok and Joong-Gun. These two forms are the introduction to the intermediate level of TKD and they present their own unique set of challenges.
Yul-Gok is a very interesting form. At a glance, you might consider Yul-Gok high on the difficulty scale. Weighing in at 38 moves, it is the longest of first nine. Those 38 moves are very deceptive though as all but two movements repeat, so, in a way the form really has 20 movements in it. If you remove the two moves that don't repeat and divide by two you get 18, add the two moves back and you land at 20. Sandwiched between Won-Hyo (28) and Joong-Gun (32), that 20 doesn't seem so bad to me.
I think Yul-Gok is a "psychologically" difficult form because it is so long. I think it requires a decent amount of stamina at first, but since you are repeating everything, muscle memory will kick in earlier than it might in a form of similar length that doesn't have as much repetition. There's not a whole lot of new technique introduced, although the jumping back fist into X stance is a bit flashy and causes many a high green belt to be excited to learn it. From a technical stand point there's not much difference between a twin forearm and twin knife hand block, and double forearm block is in my eyes the only real tricky technique.
I don't want to make it sound like I dislike the form, nothing could be further from the truth. Yul-Gok saved me a ton of embarrassment. I once got sea sick as a teenager on a fishing trip consisting of "manly men" who had a bit too much to drink. I was sick, and every time I tried to come on deck (which you should do) they made fun of my condition. I knew I couldn't puke, lest I give them something to never let me live down, so in my head I did Yul-Gok (my highest form at the time) over and over for the duration of the 6 hour fishing trip. I didn't puke, and I'll never ever forget that form.
Joong-Gun on the other hand is where the real intermediate level begins. To this point, I feel the forms are pretty straight forward. Although you can make a case for Joong-gun being very repetitive, I believe the quality of technique to be greater in Joong-gun. Joong-Gun introduces a new stance, front leg kicking, several new techniques, and the coup de grace, a back leg side kick from a back stance that lands in a front stance. Joong-Gun is easy to learn, in my opinion, as is Yul-Gok, but where Yul-Gok is (using the phrase loosely) easy to master, Joong-Gun is very much so not.
As the introductory forms to the intermediate level, Yul-Gok and Joong-Gun are formidable. In my schools, the intermediate area sees the typical testing period double. If a student was testing every three months they will now test every six (assuming all testing prereqs are met). It's a gateway time to an area I like to call the blue belt plateau. I'll get into that more in my next post, but suffice it to say the jump to intermediate is a bit of a "meat grinder" for the uninitiated. I only have anecdotal evidence, but if there are two places a person is going to drop out of training, one is definitely during the blue belt plateau. I wonder how much of that has to do with what I perceive is a steep jump in difficulty in Yul-Gok and Joong-Gun. From Won-Hyo to Yul-Gok there is a 10 move increase where the biggest increase before this is 4 movements. It almost feels like the architects wanted a clear distinguishing line between beginner and intermediate. In this case, I think they succeeded. What do you think?
Yul-Gok is a very interesting form. At a glance, you might consider Yul-Gok high on the difficulty scale. Weighing in at 38 moves, it is the longest of first nine. Those 38 moves are very deceptive though as all but two movements repeat, so, in a way the form really has 20 movements in it. If you remove the two moves that don't repeat and divide by two you get 18, add the two moves back and you land at 20. Sandwiched between Won-Hyo (28) and Joong-Gun (32), that 20 doesn't seem so bad to me.
I think Yul-Gok is a "psychologically" difficult form because it is so long. I think it requires a decent amount of stamina at first, but since you are repeating everything, muscle memory will kick in earlier than it might in a form of similar length that doesn't have as much repetition. There's not a whole lot of new technique introduced, although the jumping back fist into X stance is a bit flashy and causes many a high green belt to be excited to learn it. From a technical stand point there's not much difference between a twin forearm and twin knife hand block, and double forearm block is in my eyes the only real tricky technique.
I don't want to make it sound like I dislike the form, nothing could be further from the truth. Yul-Gok saved me a ton of embarrassment. I once got sea sick as a teenager on a fishing trip consisting of "manly men" who had a bit too much to drink. I was sick, and every time I tried to come on deck (which you should do) they made fun of my condition. I knew I couldn't puke, lest I give them something to never let me live down, so in my head I did Yul-Gok (my highest form at the time) over and over for the duration of the 6 hour fishing trip. I didn't puke, and I'll never ever forget that form.
Joong-Gun on the other hand is where the real intermediate level begins. To this point, I feel the forms are pretty straight forward. Although you can make a case for Joong-gun being very repetitive, I believe the quality of technique to be greater in Joong-gun. Joong-Gun introduces a new stance, front leg kicking, several new techniques, and the coup de grace, a back leg side kick from a back stance that lands in a front stance. Joong-Gun is easy to learn, in my opinion, as is Yul-Gok, but where Yul-Gok is (using the phrase loosely) easy to master, Joong-Gun is very much so not.
As the introductory forms to the intermediate level, Yul-Gok and Joong-Gun are formidable. In my schools, the intermediate area sees the typical testing period double. If a student was testing every three months they will now test every six (assuming all testing prereqs are met). It's a gateway time to an area I like to call the blue belt plateau. I'll get into that more in my next post, but suffice it to say the jump to intermediate is a bit of a "meat grinder" for the uninitiated. I only have anecdotal evidence, but if there are two places a person is going to drop out of training, one is definitely during the blue belt plateau. I wonder how much of that has to do with what I perceive is a steep jump in difficulty in Yul-Gok and Joong-Gun. From Won-Hyo to Yul-Gok there is a 10 move increase where the biggest increase before this is 4 movements. It almost feels like the architects wanted a clear distinguishing line between beginner and intermediate. In this case, I think they succeeded. What do you think?
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Intermission - A look at difficulty in forms.
Before moving on to the next forms I wanted to talk a little about difficulty. Several comments hit on themes I wanted to talk about in a summary I planned to write after I completed the look at the first 9 forms (white to black belt). I am realizing though, that the various themes I wanted to discuss at the end could be quite lengthy so I will address some of these points ahead of where I will delve into them.
Difficulty in the Chang-hon forms is complicated but somewhat systematic. I find that when dealing with forms a good starting point is the difference between physical and mental difficulty. On the physical scale, we look at how hard the form is on the physical body. Though the number of movements is in play here, the demands of the movements in the given form are much more important. Yul-gok has considerably more movements in it than Chong-moo, but I think it would be hard to find someone who says that Yul-gok is the harder form. The systemic repetition of Yul-gok, and only a few new techniques for the practitioner pales in comparison to the things asked of the practitioner in Choong-moo.
The other side of the scale is mental difficulty and this side of the scale is affected in my opinion by two main things. First is the number of unique moves and second is the types of turns a student is going to make. Unique moves is pretty easy to quantify, namely how much of the form repeats? If nearly the whole form repeats as it does in Yul-gok then the form tends to be easier to learn. Forms where there is no sequential repetition are often the harder forms to learn.
It is not just sequential repetition though, the types of turns you make also determine how mentally challenging a form is. Forms that have a lot of turning in place are often times harder for students to learn than forms that have direction changing turns. A good example of this is found by contrasting Ge-baek to Kwang-gae. These two forms are similar in total movment and similar in placement (in my system anyway). Students tend to pick up Kwang-gae much faster than Ge-Baek mainly I believe because the turns in place in Ge-baek are just much more mentally demanding than anything in Kwang-gae.
Of course, there is more to difficulty. Perspective is going to dictate a lot of what feels difficult for the learner and by this I mean that the combination of a physically and mentally demanding form can make certain forms at certain times seem harder than they are. I always like to say that Choong-Jang was hard until I learned Yoo-sin, and Yoo-sin was hard until I learned Moon-moo.
Next time I'll continue the Macro series with Yul-gok and Joong-gun, and begin to look at the blue belt plateau. Thanks for reading!
Difficulty in the Chang-hon forms is complicated but somewhat systematic. I find that when dealing with forms a good starting point is the difference between physical and mental difficulty. On the physical scale, we look at how hard the form is on the physical body. Though the number of movements is in play here, the demands of the movements in the given form are much more important. Yul-gok has considerably more movements in it than Chong-moo, but I think it would be hard to find someone who says that Yul-gok is the harder form. The systemic repetition of Yul-gok, and only a few new techniques for the practitioner pales in comparison to the things asked of the practitioner in Choong-moo.
The other side of the scale is mental difficulty and this side of the scale is affected in my opinion by two main things. First is the number of unique moves and second is the types of turns a student is going to make. Unique moves is pretty easy to quantify, namely how much of the form repeats? If nearly the whole form repeats as it does in Yul-gok then the form tends to be easier to learn. Forms where there is no sequential repetition are often the harder forms to learn.
It is not just sequential repetition though, the types of turns you make also determine how mentally challenging a form is. Forms that have a lot of turning in place are often times harder for students to learn than forms that have direction changing turns. A good example of this is found by contrasting Ge-baek to Kwang-gae. These two forms are similar in total movment and similar in placement (in my system anyway). Students tend to pick up Kwang-gae much faster than Ge-Baek mainly I believe because the turns in place in Ge-baek are just much more mentally demanding than anything in Kwang-gae.
Of course, there is more to difficulty. Perspective is going to dictate a lot of what feels difficult for the learner and by this I mean that the combination of a physically and mentally demanding form can make certain forms at certain times seem harder than they are. I always like to say that Choong-Jang was hard until I learned Yoo-sin, and Yoo-sin was hard until I learned Moon-moo.
Next time I'll continue the Macro series with Yul-gok and Joong-gun, and begin to look at the blue belt plateau. Thanks for reading!
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Macro Patterns (Part 2)
In Part 2 of the Macro Patterns series I want to dive into the first kicking forms of taekwon-do. This post may run a bit long, and if so I apologize; there are just so many juicy things to discuss!
To-san was one of those early benchmark forms I remember not being able to wait to learn. It featured the first kicks and deviated, albeit slightly from the standard "I" shape. I think that deviation is interesting. Taking a step back and looking at the first 9 forms as a whole -- there are more I shaped forms than not, by the count of 6-3. Setting aside the technique that make up the forms, I find it odd that the non I shaped forms are kind of "sprinkled in". I question this logic. Students tend to pick up moving in a straight line in forms (and in fighting) easier than moving on an angle. I'm not sure why the design of these forms was such that they built angular movement in so sporadically.
While I find the actual techniques in the form ramp up in a very logical way, the overall layout is inconsistent and can be confusing. As an instructor, I've seen people, here and there, struggle when they suddenly have to step on an angle. Angular movement on a whole can be one of the harder things a student is asked to do in a form, particularly early in their career. It seems shortsighted to apply angular movement in an almost haphazard way, the way the architects of these forms applied it.
The thing is, I don't think you could just reorder the original 9 and fix this issue. The techniques would not build from transition and difficulty correctly if you did.
Won-Hyo sees us return to the I shape pattern of movement and includes the first side kick. Does anything say TKD more than a well thrown sidekick? It is the signature kick of the art as a whole and I'm still wrapping my mind around it's placement in the 4th form.
As I hinted in my last post I find it odd that the foot fist way doesn't start kicking until the 3rd form in. A friend replied with the time honored "you have to learn how to walk before you run". I think that is certainly true, however, knowing TKD's roots lie more in Japanese karate arts than anywhere else, I might venture a guess and say that in the beginning TKD started with more of a Japanese, punch first mentality.
Contrary to how the ITF progression advances, the WTF pick up kicking in either their first or second form. While learning kicking in the first versus the third form may not seem like that big of a difference, remember that the "on paper" space between learning chonji and tosan is close to a year's worth of training. So for a year, the WTF are kicking in their forms and adjusting to it before some ITF schools are.
This sort of makes sense when you take into account how far the offshoot of the original idea of TKD -- namely the WTF, strays from the use of hand techniques in their system. WTF Olympic sparring looks nothing like Japanese karate, or like ITF sparring -- it is a wholly unique fighting system.
The original ITF seems more like a prototype art. While Choi's goal might have been to have a unique and distinct art from the contemporary Japanese arts of his day, the WTF accomplished that goal (in my opinion) better than Choi did. If the signature technique of the Japanese arts is the piercing reverse punch, the stark contrast would be the WTF round house kick. All this being said, I don't think it diminishes what ITF TKD is, after all, you have to learn how to walk before you run.
So does it really matter when a student starts kicking in their forms? I don't honestly know. Logic tells me that the sooner you start doing something, the better you'll be at it in the long run. I am curious what you think though, so please feel free to leave a comment. I'll try to keep the next topic a little lighter on content.
To-san was one of those early benchmark forms I remember not being able to wait to learn. It featured the first kicks and deviated, albeit slightly from the standard "I" shape. I think that deviation is interesting. Taking a step back and looking at the first 9 forms as a whole -- there are more I shaped forms than not, by the count of 6-3. Setting aside the technique that make up the forms, I find it odd that the non I shaped forms are kind of "sprinkled in". I question this logic. Students tend to pick up moving in a straight line in forms (and in fighting) easier than moving on an angle. I'm not sure why the design of these forms was such that they built angular movement in so sporadically.
While I find the actual techniques in the form ramp up in a very logical way, the overall layout is inconsistent and can be confusing. As an instructor, I've seen people, here and there, struggle when they suddenly have to step on an angle. Angular movement on a whole can be one of the harder things a student is asked to do in a form, particularly early in their career. It seems shortsighted to apply angular movement in an almost haphazard way, the way the architects of these forms applied it.
The thing is, I don't think you could just reorder the original 9 and fix this issue. The techniques would not build from transition and difficulty correctly if you did.
Won-Hyo sees us return to the I shape pattern of movement and includes the first side kick. Does anything say TKD more than a well thrown sidekick? It is the signature kick of the art as a whole and I'm still wrapping my mind around it's placement in the 4th form.
As I hinted in my last post I find it odd that the foot fist way doesn't start kicking until the 3rd form in. A friend replied with the time honored "you have to learn how to walk before you run". I think that is certainly true, however, knowing TKD's roots lie more in Japanese karate arts than anywhere else, I might venture a guess and say that in the beginning TKD started with more of a Japanese, punch first mentality.
Contrary to how the ITF progression advances, the WTF pick up kicking in either their first or second form. While learning kicking in the first versus the third form may not seem like that big of a difference, remember that the "on paper" space between learning chonji and tosan is close to a year's worth of training. So for a year, the WTF are kicking in their forms and adjusting to it before some ITF schools are.
This sort of makes sense when you take into account how far the offshoot of the original idea of TKD -- namely the WTF, strays from the use of hand techniques in their system. WTF Olympic sparring looks nothing like Japanese karate, or like ITF sparring -- it is a wholly unique fighting system.
The original ITF seems more like a prototype art. While Choi's goal might have been to have a unique and distinct art from the contemporary Japanese arts of his day, the WTF accomplished that goal (in my opinion) better than Choi did. If the signature technique of the Japanese arts is the piercing reverse punch, the stark contrast would be the WTF round house kick. All this being said, I don't think it diminishes what ITF TKD is, after all, you have to learn how to walk before you run.
So does it really matter when a student starts kicking in their forms? I don't honestly know. Logic tells me that the sooner you start doing something, the better you'll be at it in the long run. I am curious what you think though, so please feel free to leave a comment. I'll try to keep the next topic a little lighter on content.
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Macro-Patterns Overview
We all know that the patterns are supposed to mark your progression and teach you what you are supposed to learn and become proficient at for each belt rank. A funny thing happens though after the 9th pattern (Choong-Moo). From here, schools vary on the order that they teach the forms. I find the groupings and what they teach to be very interesting especially in the light that some schools change the order around. I want to look at some of the things I find interesting in the forms as a whole. I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments section.
My school uses the original chang-hon patterns (also we call them forms, a term I will use from this point on). When I say the original forms, I mean we still do Ko-Dang and not Juche.
The first 9 forms teach the various foundations of technique and stance transition. The early forms Chon-Ji and Tan-Gun teach single stance single technique with one instance of single stance double technique being introduced in Tan-Gun. Chon-ji is a "multiple symmetrical" form. It has mirrored techniques on the right and left side as well as having two distinct parts (hence the name, heaven and earth and all). We have in the very first form the first transition from single stance movements (front stance into front stance) to stance transition (front to back and back to front) stance. The form is, in my opinion a masterpiece of basic "technique". It allows a white belt to grasp concepts that they'll still be working on well into the highest black belt levels. Down block and inner forearm block also give the new student great techniques to practice using your hips to generate power. For what it sets out to do, it is in many ways an excellent form.
Tan-Gun offers more of the same and introduces the first set of single stance double techniques. Tan-gan is an interesting form which I believe gives us some insight into the origins of the art. Tan-gun is in foundation a form I was taught as "basic form 1" except with different techniques. By "in foundation" I mean that the shape, cadence and in my opinion spirit are the same in Tan-Gun and basic 1. Basic form 1 is in turn just a Korean art interpretation of the Shotokan form "taikyoku shodan".
I often wonder if our Korean forefathers thought they were improving on a "classic" with Tan-Gun. History tells us that Koreans were very bitter after years of Japanese occupation and oppression. Tan-Gun is the first form in which I wonder if the architects were changing the form as a sign of superiority, or as a snub. This is a theme we'll actually see at least in one other place.
Chon-Ji and Tan-Gun have a very interesting relationship. As the first and second forms of TKD, they, at the surface, teach the same ideas but do so in very different ways. As a whole though, it is interesting that it isn't until the third form that you see the first front kick. You might think that in the "foot, fist, way" you would get kicking right off the bat. Kicking is what any style of TKD hangs its hat on after all. I'll share what I think in my next installment - but I'm curious what your take is.
My school uses the original chang-hon patterns (also we call them forms, a term I will use from this point on). When I say the original forms, I mean we still do Ko-Dang and not Juche.
The first 9 forms teach the various foundations of technique and stance transition. The early forms Chon-Ji and Tan-Gun teach single stance single technique with one instance of single stance double technique being introduced in Tan-Gun. Chon-ji is a "multiple symmetrical" form. It has mirrored techniques on the right and left side as well as having two distinct parts (hence the name, heaven and earth and all). We have in the very first form the first transition from single stance movements (front stance into front stance) to stance transition (front to back and back to front) stance. The form is, in my opinion a masterpiece of basic "technique". It allows a white belt to grasp concepts that they'll still be working on well into the highest black belt levels. Down block and inner forearm block also give the new student great techniques to practice using your hips to generate power. For what it sets out to do, it is in many ways an excellent form.
Tan-Gun offers more of the same and introduces the first set of single stance double techniques. Tan-gan is an interesting form which I believe gives us some insight into the origins of the art. Tan-gun is in foundation a form I was taught as "basic form 1" except with different techniques. By "in foundation" I mean that the shape, cadence and in my opinion spirit are the same in Tan-Gun and basic 1. Basic form 1 is in turn just a Korean art interpretation of the Shotokan form "taikyoku shodan".
I often wonder if our Korean forefathers thought they were improving on a "classic" with Tan-Gun. History tells us that Koreans were very bitter after years of Japanese occupation and oppression. Tan-Gun is the first form in which I wonder if the architects were changing the form as a sign of superiority, or as a snub. This is a theme we'll actually see at least in one other place.
Chon-Ji and Tan-Gun have a very interesting relationship. As the first and second forms of TKD, they, at the surface, teach the same ideas but do so in very different ways. As a whole though, it is interesting that it isn't until the third form that you see the first front kick. You might think that in the "foot, fist, way" you would get kicking right off the bat. Kicking is what any style of TKD hangs its hat on after all. I'll share what I think in my next installment - but I'm curious what your take is.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Welcome!
Hello, if you stumbled on to this page I welcome you to what I hope will be a valuable source of analytical TaeKwon-Do from a fifth degree black belt with 20 years of experience as a practitioner, and teacher.
I haven't "blogged" since the early 2000s when there was no such thing as a blogosphere. It was a time when blogs were for angsty college kids and their often time inane ramblings. I'm not sure how things work quite yet, but wanted to get proverbial pen to paper as soon as possible.
I'm going to try to keep this blog very analytical, because at this stage of my TKD career, analysis in many facets are what keep me going and keep me smiling. I'm going to do my best to check my opinion at the door when I write. This will be hard, as I am very opinionated. I encourage you to do the same if you comment.
If there are comments (I'm assuming there is, you can comment on everything in today's internet). I'm going to lay some ground rules.
I will delete any comments made about "McDojos, take my dogh, or any other derogatory terms towards any arts. I'm of the opinion that all arts are beautiful and not every aspect of every art has to be about practical street defense. You can disagree with me about these aspects spiritually but on my blog any posts in these regards will be cleansed as soon as I see them. As I work with computers it's likely to be quickly.
I will also come down hard on any WTF vs ITF postings. I am not concerned with an argument over which TKD is the best TKD. However, I am very much so interested in the analytical differences between the two though, so assuming you mind your manners and construct your comments thoughtfully I'll allow certain WTF vs ITF musings.
I'd like to explore a wide range of topics on this blog, both big picture and little picture. Some of my first ideas for posts include analyzing form movements, analyzing the differences and similarities between styles and looking at technique execution. I have other ideas and hopefully, if anyone reads this and comments I'll be able to make posts based on consensus or topic of comments.
Enjoy! TKD has been, aside from my family, the love of my life for a long time. I hope that by reading this you'll love your art, or the arts in general a little more.
I haven't "blogged" since the early 2000s when there was no such thing as a blogosphere. It was a time when blogs were for angsty college kids and their often time inane ramblings. I'm not sure how things work quite yet, but wanted to get proverbial pen to paper as soon as possible.
I'm going to try to keep this blog very analytical, because at this stage of my TKD career, analysis in many facets are what keep me going and keep me smiling. I'm going to do my best to check my opinion at the door when I write. This will be hard, as I am very opinionated. I encourage you to do the same if you comment.
If there are comments (I'm assuming there is, you can comment on everything in today's internet). I'm going to lay some ground rules.
I will delete any comments made about "McDojos, take my dogh, or any other derogatory terms towards any arts. I'm of the opinion that all arts are beautiful and not every aspect of every art has to be about practical street defense. You can disagree with me about these aspects spiritually but on my blog any posts in these regards will be cleansed as soon as I see them. As I work with computers it's likely to be quickly.
I will also come down hard on any WTF vs ITF postings. I am not concerned with an argument over which TKD is the best TKD. However, I am very much so interested in the analytical differences between the two though, so assuming you mind your manners and construct your comments thoughtfully I'll allow certain WTF vs ITF musings.
I'd like to explore a wide range of topics on this blog, both big picture and little picture. Some of my first ideas for posts include analyzing form movements, analyzing the differences and similarities between styles and looking at technique execution. I have other ideas and hopefully, if anyone reads this and comments I'll be able to make posts based on consensus or topic of comments.
Enjoy! TKD has been, aside from my family, the love of my life for a long time. I hope that by reading this you'll love your art, or the arts in general a little more.
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