Yesterday was one of those experiences where life seems to complete a cycle and something goes “click”. This was at a seminar in San Leandro, sponsored by GM Max Pallens, featuring Kali Ilustrisimo master Christopher Ricketts and Lameco master Roger Agbulos.
Sometime a person has a live presence that one doesn’t get just from seeing a picture; when Christopher “Topher” Ricketts arrived, I felt I had already met him. Before I could say anything, he remembered me from the fight I had in the finals of the World Invitational Tournament in Manila in 1989, where I fought his student Miguel Zubiri!
It says something about my experience on that trip, being a bit overwhelmed trying to learn so many names and faces in a very short time, and not yet having a good enough frame of reference to know how the different styles and lineages were related. There were a number of people I met in the Philippines who in retrospect undoubtedly connected the dots between my teacher, his teacher, and their lineage. Specifically this is the link from Angel Cabales back to Felicissimo Dizon, who obviously influenced many others who have become famous in their own right.
I wish I’d known more of this at the time; clearly I was operating in the dark, whereas many whom I met grasped this connection immediately. In Cebu, grandmaster Vicente Carin pulled me aside at the inaugural WEKAF tournament to ask about my lineage, saying my style was different from everyone else at the tournament. I remember being impressed that he grasped the distinction, since it takes great depth of experience to appreciate nuances of style.
Later, in Manila, I had a similar conversation with grandmaster José Mena, but the light didn’t go on until a few years later when my Serrada senior Sultan Uddin spoke of his subsequent meeting with Tatang Ilustrisimo, where the grandmaster also recognized the movement of our style and connected the dots between the Cabales lineage and his own.
American culture is young in so many ways. This comparison is often made relative to Europe, but in martial arts, it applies equally well to the Orient. Compared to a lot of folks I meet in FMA, I feel experienced, but in the presence of those who come from the culture, I recognize my own naiveté, and age has nothing to do with it.
One cannot fake the authenticity that comes from growing up as a part of something, particularly when that is a larger culture which spawns the subset of which one is a participant. Skill is relative, and there are very talented FMA practitioners here in American and in Europe, but our underlying values and experience are different.
I wrote of this in the first article I ever wrote about my experience in the Philippines, and every encounter I have with experts who are native to the art only reinforce my sense that we can master the outer game, but the inner resources will always be ephemeral, something just beyond our grasp. It isn’t something we can acquire later in life, because our core values come from the environment in which we’re raised. The best we can do is being true to our own self, whatever path we choose to follow.
Back to my original theme, the “click” of recognition with master Ricketts through my fight in Manila immediately connected me to one of the highlights of my martial experience, bringing me back into the still-vivid memories of that day and warming me to the experience in the moment. This was reinforced as I watched his presentation of Kali Ilustrisimo, seeing live what I’ve gleaned through various media, that there is much in common with that art and Serrada. While the common line in FMA is “we have that too,” some styles give me a stronger sense of familiarity and connection than others, this being one in particular.
One thing that struck me was a sense of validation in my own growth in the art. There are things that I’ve explored and developed on my own based on internal sense of logical progression and studying footage of Angel, where he demonstrated things that were not necessarily taught explicitly. In watching master Ricketts, I saw him teaching those elements I had worked so hard to figure out. Serrada is in many ways a reductionist system; Angel taught us keys to understanding, saying it was up to us to unlock the doors. Kali Ilustrisimo doesn’t feel different to me, just presenting more clues to the art and validating my intuitions.
I also took advantage yesterday to ask Topher if he knew anything of my old friend Sylvestre “Ver” Abainza, a policeman who is also a world-championship caliber boxing referee, whom I met through his position in 1989 as chief referee for WEKAF. I stayed at Ver’s uncle’s house in Mandaluyang, and later Ver visited me in California. We lost touch after I moved and I’ve tried over the years to re-establish contact. I know Ver is still active in boxing circles, and I’ve come close to finding him through FMA and the Internet. Hopefully one day my search will reconnect us.
The second part of the seminar was Lameco Escrima, presented by Roger Agbulos. For those who’ve never met him, Roger is a funny guy with a wealth of information. An old acquaintance of mine, Steve Van Harn, quoted Silat master Mushtaq Ali recently when he said that Roger has “good Wa.” This is an Oriental expression that basically means “good face” or more to the point, “good energy.” Playing a bit of empty hands casually while standing off to the side was like fighting water. Roger is that smooth, and a delight to watch in action.
Finally, there’s the part GM Max Pallens plays in all this. I’ve been aware of Pallens’ martial arts for about 30 years now; he’s trained many top regional and national fighters, and his sons have earned world championships in karate and FMA. It was through his karate tournament in San Leandro in 1985, where I was competing, that I met grandmaster Angel Cabales. It just seems fitting that it was once again his event that put me in contact with master Ricketts. Without his efforts to promote the FMA over the years, I probably would not be writing this. I’ve thanked him in person; it seems appropriate to do so in writing too.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Busy Bay Area Seminar Weekend Ahead
This upcoming weekend features two outstanding seminars, a tough choice for those interested in seeing other styles. AMOK founder Tom Sotis is in Menlo Park for a two-day event, while Max Pallens presents masters Christopher Ricketts (Kali Ilustrisimo) and Roger Agbulos (Lameco) in San Leandro. Check the FMA calendar for details!
My lightest escrima stick vs. a traditional bokken
People sometimes question the strength of my original synthetic sticks, the HITS (which stands for "High Impact Training Stick") which are hollow lightweight plastic. Ounce for ounce, they are arguably the toughest stick you can use, and very fast because they are so light. I've sold quite a few through the years, particularly over in Europe. Here is a video I got today of a recent Dog Brothers' style fight from Sweden, between Johan Karlsson (using one of my HITS) and his opponent, who uses a traditional hardwood bokken.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
James Mitose's "What is Self-Defense"
James Mitose's book "What is Self-Defense" is one of the seminal books on the subject written in English. Here it is presented online. Mitose did not just delineate physical techniques, but also imbued them with the spiritual qualities that separate martial arts from merely fighting.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Peripheral Vision
A few nights ago I had an experience that highlighted the difference between peripheral and core vision. I had a fire going in my fireplace and I was sitting with my back to it while watching a DVD on tv (“Beowulf and Grendel”, an excellent film of the Norse legend).
I was wearing a pair of glasses, and at some point I became aware of the reflection of the fire behind me in the corner of the lense, visible to my peripheral vision. I discovered if I shifted my eyes to look towards that reflection, it disappeared, but as soon as I looked straight ahead again, the flames were visible once more, so clearly that my attention was focused on them to where I had to pause the film.
Every time I tried to look directly at the reflection, it was gone. I looked away, it was there.
This highlighted several things I try to teach in my classes. First, there is a physical difference in the structures of the eye that specialize functionality in the field of vision, and second, that our mental filters selectively prioritize our awareness in this visual field. I sometimes ask my students to look in one direction and try to identify other things they see without moving their eyes, to expand their ability to bring things to awareness.
This reflection, however, surprised me in a couple of ways. I’ve always presumed that what is caught by our peripheral vision can be brought into greater focus by looking directly. Further, I’ve been taught that the rods of the outer lens are better at catching movement than close detail, and tend to be more oriented towards black and white than full color, which is a strength of the cones of the eye. However, I was shocked when I realized that I could see the reflection from the fireplace in full color and great detail in my peripheral vision, yet not at all when trying to view it directly.
This reminds me of when I first got glasses in my 20’s, how distracted I was initially by the refractions of light at night from streetlights and care. Eventually we become used to such things, and as we become inured our mind learns to selectively tune out such images until we no longer are aware of experiencing them. The leaping red and yellow flames, though, were larger and more dramatic than just dots from electric bulbs, and the fact that I was sitting still drew my attention to one spot more clearly than if I’d been moving around.
Various martial arts teach looking at different areas of the opponent’s body in a fight. Boxers, for instance, often watch the eyes. They aren’t concerned about being kicked, so keeping their vision high works for them. In Serrada we were taught to watch the center of the chest so we could monitor both hands and feet without having to move the eyes too much, highlighting the importance of peripheral vision in that art.
It’s been stated that we can see about 1000 details subconsciously while only being aware of 5-9 of them. This experience seems to validate that premise to some degree, since it was ONLY the peripheral vision that could see this at all.
I was wearing a pair of glasses, and at some point I became aware of the reflection of the fire behind me in the corner of the lense, visible to my peripheral vision. I discovered if I shifted my eyes to look towards that reflection, it disappeared, but as soon as I looked straight ahead again, the flames were visible once more, so clearly that my attention was focused on them to where I had to pause the film.
Every time I tried to look directly at the reflection, it was gone. I looked away, it was there.
This highlighted several things I try to teach in my classes. First, there is a physical difference in the structures of the eye that specialize functionality in the field of vision, and second, that our mental filters selectively prioritize our awareness in this visual field. I sometimes ask my students to look in one direction and try to identify other things they see without moving their eyes, to expand their ability to bring things to awareness.
This reflection, however, surprised me in a couple of ways. I’ve always presumed that what is caught by our peripheral vision can be brought into greater focus by looking directly. Further, I’ve been taught that the rods of the outer lens are better at catching movement than close detail, and tend to be more oriented towards black and white than full color, which is a strength of the cones of the eye. However, I was shocked when I realized that I could see the reflection from the fireplace in full color and great detail in my peripheral vision, yet not at all when trying to view it directly.
This reminds me of when I first got glasses in my 20’s, how distracted I was initially by the refractions of light at night from streetlights and care. Eventually we become used to such things, and as we become inured our mind learns to selectively tune out such images until we no longer are aware of experiencing them. The leaping red and yellow flames, though, were larger and more dramatic than just dots from electric bulbs, and the fact that I was sitting still drew my attention to one spot more clearly than if I’d been moving around.
Various martial arts teach looking at different areas of the opponent’s body in a fight. Boxers, for instance, often watch the eyes. They aren’t concerned about being kicked, so keeping their vision high works for them. In Serrada we were taught to watch the center of the chest so we could monitor both hands and feet without having to move the eyes too much, highlighting the importance of peripheral vision in that art.
It’s been stated that we can see about 1000 details subconsciously while only being aware of 5-9 of them. This experience seems to validate that premise to some degree, since it was ONLY the peripheral vision that could see this at all.
Monday, January 29, 2007
"Intentity" - a new word
I would like to propose a new word: Intentity.
This word just popped out during a recent escrima sparring class while I was trying to express a combination of “intensity + intention.” Intentity describes a relationship between the two, and upon reflection I realized this fills in a neat gap. I’ve since added it to my collection of “Jeffisms” or personal sayings.
Intensity is defined as “exceptionally great concentration, power or force.” (answers.com)
Intent means “something that is intended; an aim or purpose. Also, “the state of one’s mind at the time one carries out an action.” (answers.com)
One can be intense without having clear purpose. Strong emotions such as road rage or lust can lead to impulsive actions that are not in our best interest. We’ve all probably had the experience of telling ourselves “If I’d thought about it, I would have done something different.”
On the other hand, intensity can be a marvelous tool that motivates us to action. The power of concentration focuses our mind on an outcome, enabling us to maximize our efforts towards that goal with few distractions.
Having intent means we apply consciousness to directing the details of this process. The ancient Hawaiian religion of Huna (“the Secret”; Kahunas were priests, “keepers of the Secret”) teaches correlation between energetic levels of the mind. The energy level of our subconscious is “mana,” that of our conscious mind is “mana-mana,” which literally means “twice as strong mana.”
Our subconscious (unihipili) is that vast repertory of thoughts and processes of which we are generally unaware. The conscious mind (uhane) is like a magnifying glass that can focus on a specific thing. When intention of the conscious mind marshals the resources of the subconscious, it raises emotional intensity to fuel the process.
Conversely, emotions that arise from the subconscious direct our attention and form the basis for beliefs. The power of the subconscious is it is always on, maintaining the machinery of our bodies as long as we live, constantly processing feedback to maintain homeostasis. We experience this as sensation and emotion, which sometimes rise to the level of conscious thought where they receive attention.
It takes practice to get good at paying attention, to being mindful of what is happening in the moment. No matter what you are experiencing, it is always happening NOW. The past cannot change; only our perception of it, how we let it affect us, can change, and that is our present experience.
The future has not happened yet, but where we have leverage to effect outcome is, again, right here and now. Each moment builds the next. Some processes take a long time, like a car, a house, a career. Others are more spontaneous, like sparring in martial arts.
When we experience intentity we are mindfully directing strong emotional energy, an integrative process. It is the state of alignment through which we fully express the spirit of who we are in what we do. It is the doorway to mushin, or “no mind”, the Zen state “into which very highly trained martial artists are said to go” (answers.com). In mushin, “a fighter feels no anger, fear or ego during combat. There is an absence of discursive thought and so the fighter is able to act and react towards and opponent without hesitation. At this point, a person relies not on what they think should be the next move, but what is felt intuitively.”
In FMA and other arts, this is summarized as “flow,” which can be categorized as a natural state of grace. It is tension between thought and action that creates gaps through which error strikes.
Integration is more powerful than the disjunctive approach of dualism, which postulates a false dichotomy between mind and matter. It is better, I believe, to think of ourselves as a continuous spectrum of interrelated, interacting and mutually reflective energies, from the most base to most refined. We are thus able to respond appropriately at any level to all nuances of perception.
Some of these subtle influences are higher consciousness processes, refined beyond our level of perception, preceding conscious thought to direct our inner sense of right or wrong. I do not mean society’s morals, but our own inner compass that directs personal choices. What we perceive as mistakes are lessons to learn; success too merely leads to further choices; everything is an outcome. Judgment is subjective; getting eaten by a shark is bad for a person, but to the shark it is simply a meal.
The world is our projection, a reflective mirror of filtering beliefs and self-perceptions. When we align our mind and body, we step past mere personal identity, opening ourselves to a more expansive sense relationship in the moment. Intentity builds that point of balance where we have leverage in the field of possibility, creating the opportunity to more strongly affect our future outcome. What that outcome may be depends on how well we align with the flow, whether in sparring or in life. Intentity is therefore a tactic, our higher purpose the broader strategy we hope to advance.
This word just popped out during a recent escrima sparring class while I was trying to express a combination of “intensity + intention.” Intentity describes a relationship between the two, and upon reflection I realized this fills in a neat gap. I’ve since added it to my collection of “Jeffisms” or personal sayings.
Intensity is defined as “exceptionally great concentration, power or force.” (answers.com)
Intent means “something that is intended; an aim or purpose. Also, “the state of one’s mind at the time one carries out an action.” (answers.com)
One can be intense without having clear purpose. Strong emotions such as road rage or lust can lead to impulsive actions that are not in our best interest. We’ve all probably had the experience of telling ourselves “If I’d thought about it, I would have done something different.”
On the other hand, intensity can be a marvelous tool that motivates us to action. The power of concentration focuses our mind on an outcome, enabling us to maximize our efforts towards that goal with few distractions.
Having intent means we apply consciousness to directing the details of this process. The ancient Hawaiian religion of Huna (“the Secret”; Kahunas were priests, “keepers of the Secret”) teaches correlation between energetic levels of the mind. The energy level of our subconscious is “mana,” that of our conscious mind is “mana-mana,” which literally means “twice as strong mana.”
Our subconscious (unihipili) is that vast repertory of thoughts and processes of which we are generally unaware. The conscious mind (uhane) is like a magnifying glass that can focus on a specific thing. When intention of the conscious mind marshals the resources of the subconscious, it raises emotional intensity to fuel the process.
Conversely, emotions that arise from the subconscious direct our attention and form the basis for beliefs. The power of the subconscious is it is always on, maintaining the machinery of our bodies as long as we live, constantly processing feedback to maintain homeostasis. We experience this as sensation and emotion, which sometimes rise to the level of conscious thought where they receive attention.
It takes practice to get good at paying attention, to being mindful of what is happening in the moment. No matter what you are experiencing, it is always happening NOW. The past cannot change; only our perception of it, how we let it affect us, can change, and that is our present experience.
The future has not happened yet, but where we have leverage to effect outcome is, again, right here and now. Each moment builds the next. Some processes take a long time, like a car, a house, a career. Others are more spontaneous, like sparring in martial arts.
When we experience intentity we are mindfully directing strong emotional energy, an integrative process. It is the state of alignment through which we fully express the spirit of who we are in what we do. It is the doorway to mushin, or “no mind”, the Zen state “into which very highly trained martial artists are said to go” (answers.com). In mushin, “a fighter feels no anger, fear or ego during combat. There is an absence of discursive thought and so the fighter is able to act and react towards and opponent without hesitation. At this point, a person relies not on what they think should be the next move, but what is felt intuitively.”
In FMA and other arts, this is summarized as “flow,” which can be categorized as a natural state of grace. It is tension between thought and action that creates gaps through which error strikes.
Integration is more powerful than the disjunctive approach of dualism, which postulates a false dichotomy between mind and matter. It is better, I believe, to think of ourselves as a continuous spectrum of interrelated, interacting and mutually reflective energies, from the most base to most refined. We are thus able to respond appropriately at any level to all nuances of perception.
Some of these subtle influences are higher consciousness processes, refined beyond our level of perception, preceding conscious thought to direct our inner sense of right or wrong. I do not mean society’s morals, but our own inner compass that directs personal choices. What we perceive as mistakes are lessons to learn; success too merely leads to further choices; everything is an outcome. Judgment is subjective; getting eaten by a shark is bad for a person, but to the shark it is simply a meal.
The world is our projection, a reflective mirror of filtering beliefs and self-perceptions. When we align our mind and body, we step past mere personal identity, opening ourselves to a more expansive sense relationship in the moment. Intentity builds that point of balance where we have leverage in the field of possibility, creating the opportunity to more strongly affect our future outcome. What that outcome may be depends on how well we align with the flow, whether in sparring or in life. Intentity is therefore a tactic, our higher purpose the broader strategy we hope to advance.
Friday, January 26, 2007
The 48 Laws Of Excellence
I recently came across a piece of writing that I found quite inspirational. It’s called “The 48 Laws Of Excellence” by Dr. Henry Jekyll. I may serialize this and post one law at a time, but for anyone interested in the whole piece, I’ve posted it on my website in its entirety as it’s too long for the format of this blog. Here is the first law:
Law 1
Never Learn From Someone Threatened By Excellence
Never limit yourself to accommodate the insecurities of others. Your goal is your own personal excellence – and as such do not curtail the development of your skills, self-confidence or courage for anyone. If you are working for someone who is threatened by excellence, you are working for the wrong person. If you are learning from someone who is threatened by excellence, you are learning the wrong lessons. If you are learning from a man who is scared of being eclipsed, you have already eclipsed him.
Law 1
Never Learn From Someone Threatened By Excellence
Never limit yourself to accommodate the insecurities of others. Your goal is your own personal excellence – and as such do not curtail the development of your skills, self-confidence or courage for anyone. If you are working for someone who is threatened by excellence, you are working for the wrong person. If you are learning from someone who is threatened by excellence, you are learning the wrong lessons. If you are learning from a man who is scared of being eclipsed, you have already eclipsed him.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Verticality
Lately I’ve been putting some of my students through what I call floorwork, which is based upon movement while close to the ground, such as kneeling or sitting. I use this term to distinguish it from groundwork, which to me encompasses grappling arts such as Gracie Jujitsu. Floorwork generally is less engaged in submission, more focused on evasion, hitting and escape. The purpose of training this is two-fold.
My original motivation was tactical, how to defend myself while sitting on the ground. Modalities include use of kicks, leg traps and takedowns, how to drop to the ground either in attack or defensive modes, use of the hands to defend while moving on the ground, and how to get up with or without aid of hands.
The goal is having a three-dimensional vertical perspective of personal combat space. What we see from our eyes is not what we would see if we look up from the ground. To learn to kick effectively, my Kenpo teacher actually had us place our heads where our feet had been, to see from below the holes in the defense of an opponent who appears well protected. The same logic applies, btw, to the perspective as seen from the tip of our weapon.
The secondary aspect is conditioning and proprioceptive awareness. What I’ve discovered is how difficult low movement seems to many, whether physically or imaginatively. There are three “bridges” taught in kung-fu: arms, legs and torso. Working on the ground helps develop a stronger commitment of core body strength while changing our understanding of leg work.
Perhaps it is easy for me because I am comfortable sitting on the ground, and have done so regularly for years while reading, watching tv, playing with animals, stretching, meditating, etc. It helps that long ago I was exposed to techniques from cultures where sitting on the ground is customary. For reference, I draw my inspiration (roughly in order) from Chinese Kenpo (particularly Fukien-style groundfighting), Aikido’s suwari waza (movement from kneeling) and various techniques from Silat, especially Harimau, a Sumatran tiger style.
As in so many other areas of life, the ability to outperform others is advantageous. Many arts teach us to defend “the box,” a target zone which is essentially our torso and head. Leg defenses are more esoteric; arts such as Western boxing don’t account for this at all. By dropping low we are able to defend our own box, albeit mostly in the high zone, but our opponents are forced to work “below the radar.” If they can drop too, we again have a relatively equal relationship, but if they cannot go low, it presents them with unusual problems.
There’s a good example of this in the next-to-last episode of the HBO series “Rome,” where one of the heroes takes on a huge gladiator to save his friend, and by going to his knees is able to sever the lower leg of the giant, who falls, whereupon the hero rises to finish off his protagonist.
It’s common in FMA to talk of three ranges of combat as long (largo mano), medium (medio) and close (corto). I’d like to propose a triad of categories for the vertical plane, which would be standing (high), kneeling (middle) and sitting or prone (low).
This isn’t particularly new, but a re-synthesis of existing ideas. For instance, many FMA systems start with or include a five-angle pattern, known as “cinco teros.” This generally targets high and low torso strikes. Some styles break down their numbering systems according to left or right sides, and high, medium or low, to include the legs. The degree to which the practitioner drops towards the ground vs. only striking towards that direction is another variable, which my proposal of vertical ranges would address.
Here are some of the exercises I’m using to develop these attributes. Caution is advised if you have problems with your knees.
MULTI-LEVEL EXERCISES
1)
Standing to kneeling: This is based on Japanese suwari waza, techniques done while sitting seiza, which is kneeling and sitting back on one’s heels. Like many non-Western cultures, the Japanese are familiar with sitting on the floor, particularly in formal or traditional venues. This is good for developing and maintaining strong and flexible legs (the old “use it or lose it” principle of functionality).
The idea of this first exercise is to be able to go from standing position to seiza and to be able to rise back up onto one’s feet. These actions should be accomplished without putting one’s hands on the floor, and are to be done smoothly and with economy of motion.
A key tip, taught in Aikido, is to “think forward.” One cannot rise if thinking about the direction “up.” Those who cannot get up without use of hands can usually correct this with a simple mind trick. By thinking “forward” your body rolls its center of mass from the feet forward over the knees. From there it is simple to step to one’s feet.
2)
Standing to sitting: This is pretty similar. Go down to one or both knees (half or full kneeling), then sit back into whatever cross-legged position is comfortable (I generally use a half-lotus). To rise, again think “forward.” This is such a key concept in martial arts, it can be applied to just about anything.
What is typically done is for folks to throw their hands and a lead leg forward to generate momentum, using this to come upright. An easier method is to first roll forward with both legs still folded. This essentially brings one to seiza sitting position, from whence one can simply rise on the knees and then step up. This simple method is helpful if, for instance, your hands are tied behind your back. Clasp them there and try to get up without rolling forward. It’s amazing how many people feel completely stuck, or struggle to get their feet underneath first and wind up falling forward on their faces.
The concepts of these preceding techniques are essentially elements found in basic front and back rolls.
3)
Spiral to sitting: This is a move demonstrated by the late Silat master Herman Suwanda. Stand with feet a bit wider than shoulder width. A horse stance will work. Turn 180º and sit down; the feet can pivot, but don’t move from their relative spots. Come back up by reversing, then go down the other way. Come up and change directions again; repeat!
The legs will cross in a manner more familiar to many women than to most men. Turning left (counterclockwise) will tuck the right leg underneath horizontally, the left leg crossing the right thigh above the knee in an upright (vertical) position. Both knees will basically be lined up in front of my centerline. If your legs are flexible enough, this can be a comfortable sitting position. If not, breathe into it as a stretch if possible.
SITTING EXERCISES
To address this in simplest manner, practice your self-defense techniques in sitting position. I like to do this with empty hand versions of my FMA techniques. In any technique, I consider three things: weapon hand, live hand, and body angle. If you are simply sitting, those relationships and how they affect balance become readily apparent. By eliminating the legs as our fundamental support system, we become much more aware of the dynamic stability within the inner core of our torso.
Regardless of weaponry (or lack thereof) in either hand, I think of my right hand as “weapon” and the left as “live”or “check” hand. This coordinates timing across the widest range of possibilities.
Techniques should test range of motion for parries, blocks and strikes while maintaining sitting. They can also incorporate joint locks, takedowns and even kicks.
PRONE EXERCISE
This is from Harimau: From a seated position, practice falling to either side. If going to the right, catch yourself on the right forearm and left hand. Use of that right forearm and elbow will be stronger, more stable and lower than using both hands. Your left leg will be in an upright position. To come upright, use both hands to push off the ground. Reverse and repeat on the opposite side.
If you need to roll even further downward, bend your groundward arm so your hand supports the head, and twist the body, landing on the back of your shoulder and lats (similar to shuai jiao falls). To get up from here, you may need to kick out with your upper leg for momentum and balance shift.
This down position is a deceptively good defense, since it appears open but you are guarding with shins and elbow. It also supports strong low kicks, in particular horizontal front roundhouses, heel hooks and thrusts. You can ankle hook with the low leg while attacking the knee with the upper leg, creating leg locks and takedowns.
Rolling over quickly onto the opposite knee brings one up into position for higher kicks towards the underbelly. Both hands are used for support, bracing against the kick.
KNEELING EXERCISES
1)
Serrada footwork has the “papeet” or “replacement step”, where one foot is in front the other behind, similar to fencing alignment. The feet come together at the forward point and then the opposite foot goes back. Actually, at the point of feet together, it is neutral and either foot can go back, but for drills we practice switching. The papeet can also be done on one’s knees!
Start from an upright kneeling position (over the knees, not seated). Stay on the toes instead of the feet flat as in seiza. Rotate one knee to the side so that foot is flat on the ground. This leg should now be perpendicular to the direction it was facing when the knee was down. Now drop that knee, and catching the momentum, swing the other one up. Congratulations! You should now be able to switch sides while in a kneeling position. You can extend the “up” leg for increased stability and greater reach with your hands (the wider your base, the further you can project yourself). I generally find that leg extends backwards at a diagonal angle.
Tactically I’ve seen guys sparring on their knees, simply sitting upright and immobile. By having an “outrigger” for support, one can utilize much greater angles to attack, evade and even kick. One can have the lead leg up in front (half kneeling) and by swinging it away to the side, effectively retreat and switch lead sides.
2)
Knee walking: This is another Japanese practice, known as shikka, done from sitting seiza. From kneeling position, raise one knee. As that foot comes forward, the “down” foot swings forward as well so the feet stay close together (sometimes beginners use their gi belt to tie the feet in proximity). Weight is on the balls of the feet and the rear knee. Walking is accomplished by putting down the lead knee and swinging the other leg forward, continuing to keep the feet together.
SEATED TRANSITIONAL EXERCISE
This can go either direction; I’ll only describe it counterclockwise. Again, be careful with your knees if you have issues. It shouldn’t be too difficult for most people, however.
From a seated cross-legged position, raise your left knee so you can reverse your left leg, swinging it to the outside and tucked alongside your buttocks. Your weight is basically on your right side. Come up on your knees just long enough to swing both feet across underneath to the opposite side and drop back down onto your left buttock. Raise the right knee and bring that foot back to the front into a cross-legged position. When you get comfortable, this can be done continuously in either direction.
Why, you might ask, would I want to do this? Imagine working on something like a car while seated. You drop a socket that rolls just out of reach to the right. Extend the left leg, lean right to get it (basic Tai Chi principle). From there come up into kneeling to get better leverage on the bolt you’re working on. Sit back afterwards to put the tools back in their box.
In all my techniques I try to find the most natural way of doing things. The best techniques are not necessarily the ones that are most unusual, but the ones most integrated with normal movements done unconsciously in daily life. Sometimes things seem awkward and different when we first try them, when what is really new is our perception and not the reality. At some point we may realize “Oh, that’s what it is!” Once we see a movement within an ordinary context, it suddenly falls into place and is no longer some esoteric thing. It is often difficult only because we think it so. None of the above exercises take any great skills of coordination or strength. It is lack of familiarity that makes us shy away in fear from the effort, when in fact the result will be increased flexibility and confidence.
My original motivation was tactical, how to defend myself while sitting on the ground. Modalities include use of kicks, leg traps and takedowns, how to drop to the ground either in attack or defensive modes, use of the hands to defend while moving on the ground, and how to get up with or without aid of hands.
The goal is having a three-dimensional vertical perspective of personal combat space. What we see from our eyes is not what we would see if we look up from the ground. To learn to kick effectively, my Kenpo teacher actually had us place our heads where our feet had been, to see from below the holes in the defense of an opponent who appears well protected. The same logic applies, btw, to the perspective as seen from the tip of our weapon.
The secondary aspect is conditioning and proprioceptive awareness. What I’ve discovered is how difficult low movement seems to many, whether physically or imaginatively. There are three “bridges” taught in kung-fu: arms, legs and torso. Working on the ground helps develop a stronger commitment of core body strength while changing our understanding of leg work.
Perhaps it is easy for me because I am comfortable sitting on the ground, and have done so regularly for years while reading, watching tv, playing with animals, stretching, meditating, etc. It helps that long ago I was exposed to techniques from cultures where sitting on the ground is customary. For reference, I draw my inspiration (roughly in order) from Chinese Kenpo (particularly Fukien-style groundfighting), Aikido’s suwari waza (movement from kneeling) and various techniques from Silat, especially Harimau, a Sumatran tiger style.
As in so many other areas of life, the ability to outperform others is advantageous. Many arts teach us to defend “the box,” a target zone which is essentially our torso and head. Leg defenses are more esoteric; arts such as Western boxing don’t account for this at all. By dropping low we are able to defend our own box, albeit mostly in the high zone, but our opponents are forced to work “below the radar.” If they can drop too, we again have a relatively equal relationship, but if they cannot go low, it presents them with unusual problems.
There’s a good example of this in the next-to-last episode of the HBO series “Rome,” where one of the heroes takes on a huge gladiator to save his friend, and by going to his knees is able to sever the lower leg of the giant, who falls, whereupon the hero rises to finish off his protagonist.
It’s common in FMA to talk of three ranges of combat as long (largo mano), medium (medio) and close (corto). I’d like to propose a triad of categories for the vertical plane, which would be standing (high), kneeling (middle) and sitting or prone (low).
This isn’t particularly new, but a re-synthesis of existing ideas. For instance, many FMA systems start with or include a five-angle pattern, known as “cinco teros.” This generally targets high and low torso strikes. Some styles break down their numbering systems according to left or right sides, and high, medium or low, to include the legs. The degree to which the practitioner drops towards the ground vs. only striking towards that direction is another variable, which my proposal of vertical ranges would address.
Here are some of the exercises I’m using to develop these attributes. Caution is advised if you have problems with your knees.
MULTI-LEVEL EXERCISES
1)
Standing to kneeling: This is based on Japanese suwari waza, techniques done while sitting seiza, which is kneeling and sitting back on one’s heels. Like many non-Western cultures, the Japanese are familiar with sitting on the floor, particularly in formal or traditional venues. This is good for developing and maintaining strong and flexible legs (the old “use it or lose it” principle of functionality).
The idea of this first exercise is to be able to go from standing position to seiza and to be able to rise back up onto one’s feet. These actions should be accomplished without putting one’s hands on the floor, and are to be done smoothly and with economy of motion.
A key tip, taught in Aikido, is to “think forward.” One cannot rise if thinking about the direction “up.” Those who cannot get up without use of hands can usually correct this with a simple mind trick. By thinking “forward” your body rolls its center of mass from the feet forward over the knees. From there it is simple to step to one’s feet.
2)
Standing to sitting: This is pretty similar. Go down to one or both knees (half or full kneeling), then sit back into whatever cross-legged position is comfortable (I generally use a half-lotus). To rise, again think “forward.” This is such a key concept in martial arts, it can be applied to just about anything.
What is typically done is for folks to throw their hands and a lead leg forward to generate momentum, using this to come upright. An easier method is to first roll forward with both legs still folded. This essentially brings one to seiza sitting position, from whence one can simply rise on the knees and then step up. This simple method is helpful if, for instance, your hands are tied behind your back. Clasp them there and try to get up without rolling forward. It’s amazing how many people feel completely stuck, or struggle to get their feet underneath first and wind up falling forward on their faces.
The concepts of these preceding techniques are essentially elements found in basic front and back rolls.
3)
Spiral to sitting: This is a move demonstrated by the late Silat master Herman Suwanda. Stand with feet a bit wider than shoulder width. A horse stance will work. Turn 180º and sit down; the feet can pivot, but don’t move from their relative spots. Come back up by reversing, then go down the other way. Come up and change directions again; repeat!
The legs will cross in a manner more familiar to many women than to most men. Turning left (counterclockwise) will tuck the right leg underneath horizontally, the left leg crossing the right thigh above the knee in an upright (vertical) position. Both knees will basically be lined up in front of my centerline. If your legs are flexible enough, this can be a comfortable sitting position. If not, breathe into it as a stretch if possible.
SITTING EXERCISES
To address this in simplest manner, practice your self-defense techniques in sitting position. I like to do this with empty hand versions of my FMA techniques. In any technique, I consider three things: weapon hand, live hand, and body angle. If you are simply sitting, those relationships and how they affect balance become readily apparent. By eliminating the legs as our fundamental support system, we become much more aware of the dynamic stability within the inner core of our torso.
Regardless of weaponry (or lack thereof) in either hand, I think of my right hand as “weapon” and the left as “live”or “check” hand. This coordinates timing across the widest range of possibilities.
Techniques should test range of motion for parries, blocks and strikes while maintaining sitting. They can also incorporate joint locks, takedowns and even kicks.
PRONE EXERCISE
This is from Harimau: From a seated position, practice falling to either side. If going to the right, catch yourself on the right forearm and left hand. Use of that right forearm and elbow will be stronger, more stable and lower than using both hands. Your left leg will be in an upright position. To come upright, use both hands to push off the ground. Reverse and repeat on the opposite side.
If you need to roll even further downward, bend your groundward arm so your hand supports the head, and twist the body, landing on the back of your shoulder and lats (similar to shuai jiao falls). To get up from here, you may need to kick out with your upper leg for momentum and balance shift.
This down position is a deceptively good defense, since it appears open but you are guarding with shins and elbow. It also supports strong low kicks, in particular horizontal front roundhouses, heel hooks and thrusts. You can ankle hook with the low leg while attacking the knee with the upper leg, creating leg locks and takedowns.
Rolling over quickly onto the opposite knee brings one up into position for higher kicks towards the underbelly. Both hands are used for support, bracing against the kick.
KNEELING EXERCISES
1)
Serrada footwork has the “papeet” or “replacement step”, where one foot is in front the other behind, similar to fencing alignment. The feet come together at the forward point and then the opposite foot goes back. Actually, at the point of feet together, it is neutral and either foot can go back, but for drills we practice switching. The papeet can also be done on one’s knees!
Start from an upright kneeling position (over the knees, not seated). Stay on the toes instead of the feet flat as in seiza. Rotate one knee to the side so that foot is flat on the ground. This leg should now be perpendicular to the direction it was facing when the knee was down. Now drop that knee, and catching the momentum, swing the other one up. Congratulations! You should now be able to switch sides while in a kneeling position. You can extend the “up” leg for increased stability and greater reach with your hands (the wider your base, the further you can project yourself). I generally find that leg extends backwards at a diagonal angle.
Tactically I’ve seen guys sparring on their knees, simply sitting upright and immobile. By having an “outrigger” for support, one can utilize much greater angles to attack, evade and even kick. One can have the lead leg up in front (half kneeling) and by swinging it away to the side, effectively retreat and switch lead sides.
2)
Knee walking: This is another Japanese practice, known as shikka, done from sitting seiza. From kneeling position, raise one knee. As that foot comes forward, the “down” foot swings forward as well so the feet stay close together (sometimes beginners use their gi belt to tie the feet in proximity). Weight is on the balls of the feet and the rear knee. Walking is accomplished by putting down the lead knee and swinging the other leg forward, continuing to keep the feet together.
SEATED TRANSITIONAL EXERCISE
This can go either direction; I’ll only describe it counterclockwise. Again, be careful with your knees if you have issues. It shouldn’t be too difficult for most people, however.
From a seated cross-legged position, raise your left knee so you can reverse your left leg, swinging it to the outside and tucked alongside your buttocks. Your weight is basically on your right side. Come up on your knees just long enough to swing both feet across underneath to the opposite side and drop back down onto your left buttock. Raise the right knee and bring that foot back to the front into a cross-legged position. When you get comfortable, this can be done continuously in either direction.
Why, you might ask, would I want to do this? Imagine working on something like a car while seated. You drop a socket that rolls just out of reach to the right. Extend the left leg, lean right to get it (basic Tai Chi principle). From there come up into kneeling to get better leverage on the bolt you’re working on. Sit back afterwards to put the tools back in their box.
In all my techniques I try to find the most natural way of doing things. The best techniques are not necessarily the ones that are most unusual, but the ones most integrated with normal movements done unconsciously in daily life. Sometimes things seem awkward and different when we first try them, when what is really new is our perception and not the reality. At some point we may realize “Oh, that’s what it is!” Once we see a movement within an ordinary context, it suddenly falls into place and is no longer some esoteric thing. It is often difficult only because we think it so. None of the above exercises take any great skills of coordination or strength. It is lack of familiarity that makes us shy away in fear from the effort, when in fact the result will be increased flexibility and confidence.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
January 2007 Updates
This is a reminder to check the FMA calendar for upcoming events. The Filipino arts will be inaugurated at the huge Disney Martial Arts Festival in Anaheim the first weekend in February! There will be a prior regional qualifier and training event in mid-January in Portland, Or. for those in the Pacific Northwest. In mid-February, AMOK will host its first Bay Area seminar in Menlo Park. All these are currently posted.
I've uploaded an article by Guro Peter Freedman that echoes some of the things in my last post about keeping an open mind and supporting each other in the arts. Here's a video clip of Guro Freedman showing defenses against the gun.
For those who don't yet know about or get the FMA Digest, this is another great resource for articles and upcoming events. There's a lot of positive energy in the community these days, and everybody is important in keeping that going!
I've uploaded an article by Guro Peter Freedman that echoes some of the things in my last post about keeping an open mind and supporting each other in the arts. Here's a video clip of Guro Freedman showing defenses against the gun.
For those who don't yet know about or get the FMA Digest, this is another great resource for articles and upcoming events. There's a lot of positive energy in the community these days, and everybody is important in keeping that going!
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
New Year 2007
As we head into the New Year, it’s traditional to reflect back on the previous year and make resolutions for the new one. I’ve never been one to stand too firmly on formalities, but sometimes the shoe fits, so here’s my personal snapshot through the lens of FMA.
The one constant in our universe is change, which is always flowing. We perceive this as time, but it isn’t always a constant. Ancient Greeks divided time into chronos and kairos, regular and sacred time. The former is the physical measure; the latter is metaphysical perception, defined more by the internal meaning of events. We experience this in a myriad of ways. Sometimes the current is slow, as in periods of recovery or rebuilding strength. Other times it seems to rush by, sweeping us unpredictably, while still other times we sense a measured pace towards a firmly held purpose.
This past year held significant events, the seeds of which are just starting to germinate. These relate to the ascension of a new generation of masters in the arts and the energy that they bring.
There were two losses that touched me in particular, George Brewster back in Massachusetts and Sonny Umpad out here in California. Mr. Brewster I only knew by email and phone, but he struck me as a gentleman of the old school: polite, knowledgeable, and experienced. The same can be said of Sonny. These men contributed not just skill but style, as in how they lived their lives. Both left successors who, by the very nature of attraction, exhibit many of the qualities of the men they chose as teachers.
Change often begets confusion, even under good circumstances. It is said that wise people learn from the mistakes of others, so perhaps here is a chance for some of us to learn from each other, both the new from the old, and the old from the new.
2006 marked the 15th year since the passing of grandmaster Angel Cabales, and the 5th year since that of grandmaster Remy Presas. There often seem to be patterns that follow the death of an influential or charismatic leader, and this is true of social groups from sewing clubs to nations. Serrada feels like it has found some equilibrium, while Modern Arnis is perhaps still earlier in the process.
Unless there are clear instructions for successorship, which are supported by a strong consensus, those close to the old source of power vie in competition to fill the vacuum at the top. Like the blind men describing different parts of an elephant, this can be perceived variously.
There are those who lay claim to the old power structure, and there are those who break away or innovate to validate their own creative impulses. Much has been said about the merits or demerits of either proposition, but Angel Cabales said it often and well with the words “The people will decide!” He recognized that there would always be competition to be “the best” and success or recognition would ultimately go to those who proved their value within their community.
When groups splinter, there is usually a strong emotional charge as people choose sides. Sometimes this creates rivalries that last for generations, but this isn’t necessary. New wounds are felt the strongest, but then there is healing as time (chronos) reinstates the illusion of stability. Young masters mature through life experience and come to value different perspectives.
Perhaps it is because we live in a time of interconnected worldwide transportation and communication that we might be more able to evolve past limited perspectives. We are aware of so much going on the world, we can see how small our own niches are compared to the whole, and how much potential there is for growth if we focus on resources we haven’t tapped, rather than fighting over the scraps that we have.
2006 was a year of coming together, particularly here in NorCal. Serrada had its most significant gathering since Angel died, and Sonny’s students came together to support him and begin carrying forth that art. Thanks to Alex France, those of us here in the Bay Area were treated to a rare series of seminars by visiting masters and grandmasters. Finally and significantly, a major new venue for showcasing the FMA opened up through the USFMA Federation, which was organized as the sponsor to incorporate Filipino martial arts into the annual Disney World Festival of Martial arts.
All of these events show the positive energy that is created when people come together. If we want to see the FMA grow in popularity, and to see schools and teachers doing well, we have to continue to put in energy and support the arts. After all, we, the participants, ARE the art. It only exists through us, so here is what I’d like to see people do: Support FMA events!
Attend seminars! This doesn’t mean you necessarily want to learn a whole new system or that you are being disloyal to your teacher. It’s a chance to see how others do similar things, and what is different. If I get one good idea at a seminar, it’s good for a lifetime. Diamond hunters don’t expect a rare gem every day and knowledge can be like that too. Even if I don’t add new techniques, I can add understanding of what others do and how they train, and of course there could be other people attending the seminar with whom to connect as well.
Now, I’ve been to seminars where only a few others came, which is their loss, not mine. Some seminars have even been cancelled. This is a shame, reflecting more on the community than on those offering the event. It is as though the arts are held in such low regard that there isn’t enough interest to even see what is offered. If people don’t support seminars, they won’t get them, and then the alternatives are either to travel ourselves to distant schools or to insulate ourselves in our own groups.
Tournaments! Now I know not everyone likes these, but there are many reasons to attend even if you don’t compete. First, where else are you going to find as many people who share your passion for these arts? I remember men like Angel Cabales, Sonny Umpad and others standing together, talking and watching, back in San Jose in 1988. The founders of the Dog Brothers began to germinate their ideas that day. In 1989 WEKAF was founded, first bringing together many styles from different countries. If you go to major events, you get to see, meet and interact with folks you might never otherwise encounter. Those opportunities are rare and valuable! I can’t stress that enough.
For those who do compete, there are other reasons. Competition is a chance to test yourself, to see what you’ve learned and what still needs further polish. The element of stress changes things, whether fear or excitement. Fighting new opponents without the safety net of predictability is as close to real fighting as many will experience. Win or lose in the judge’s eyes, the chance to learn something is always a win-win opportunity.
For more than 20 years I’ve heard the FMA called “the next big thing.” Now we have the chance to show that we have grown, and only we can show that it’s truly our time to be recognized in our own right as a powerful force within the martial art community. If you’ve never been to a tournament, the time is now, and if you have, your continued support is urged. The first major USFMAF event is the national qualifier Feb. 3-4 in Anaheim, Ca., with seminars on Saturday and competition on Sunday.
ESPN2 covers these events. I watched the demonstrations posted online from the Disney national championships in Florida this past October. Darren Tibon took a demo squad to give a preview of FMA for the next tournament. Their performance (about 1hr 21 minutes into the show), following a number of demonstrations by various champions, was stunning in its intensity. The announcers clearly were impressed, suddenly re-energized towards the end of a long day and evening. The authenticity of our arts is what first attracted me, and that was the impression I saw in the faces of those announcers. It is what we, as a whole, have a chance to bring and showcase to the world. The benefits down the road come to all of us if through our efforts and enthusiasm we attract more people to train seriously in our arts.
The USFMAF is not about any one style; all are welcome and encouraged to participate. It is not competing against other organizations; there are WEKAF members who are proudly supporting this new effort to promote the arts. Show up. Bring friends and classmates. Learn, have fun, make friends. You will grow in the art, and the art will grow in you, and through you.
Most folks reading this are avid FMA’ers, but whatever you do, I’d encourage you to find and follow your passion this year, to make it one of personal growth. Through our efforts we become the change we wish to see. This is true of us as individuals, and it is multiplied through the power of working together. Remember that beyond our style, our lineage, our allegiances, we are connected through common goals, and beyond that, our humanity.
The one constant in our universe is change, which is always flowing. We perceive this as time, but it isn’t always a constant. Ancient Greeks divided time into chronos and kairos, regular and sacred time. The former is the physical measure; the latter is metaphysical perception, defined more by the internal meaning of events. We experience this in a myriad of ways. Sometimes the current is slow, as in periods of recovery or rebuilding strength. Other times it seems to rush by, sweeping us unpredictably, while still other times we sense a measured pace towards a firmly held purpose.
This past year held significant events, the seeds of which are just starting to germinate. These relate to the ascension of a new generation of masters in the arts and the energy that they bring.
There were two losses that touched me in particular, George Brewster back in Massachusetts and Sonny Umpad out here in California. Mr. Brewster I only knew by email and phone, but he struck me as a gentleman of the old school: polite, knowledgeable, and experienced. The same can be said of Sonny. These men contributed not just skill but style, as in how they lived their lives. Both left successors who, by the very nature of attraction, exhibit many of the qualities of the men they chose as teachers.
Change often begets confusion, even under good circumstances. It is said that wise people learn from the mistakes of others, so perhaps here is a chance for some of us to learn from each other, both the new from the old, and the old from the new.
2006 marked the 15th year since the passing of grandmaster Angel Cabales, and the 5th year since that of grandmaster Remy Presas. There often seem to be patterns that follow the death of an influential or charismatic leader, and this is true of social groups from sewing clubs to nations. Serrada feels like it has found some equilibrium, while Modern Arnis is perhaps still earlier in the process.
Unless there are clear instructions for successorship, which are supported by a strong consensus, those close to the old source of power vie in competition to fill the vacuum at the top. Like the blind men describing different parts of an elephant, this can be perceived variously.
There are those who lay claim to the old power structure, and there are those who break away or innovate to validate their own creative impulses. Much has been said about the merits or demerits of either proposition, but Angel Cabales said it often and well with the words “The people will decide!” He recognized that there would always be competition to be “the best” and success or recognition would ultimately go to those who proved their value within their community.
When groups splinter, there is usually a strong emotional charge as people choose sides. Sometimes this creates rivalries that last for generations, but this isn’t necessary. New wounds are felt the strongest, but then there is healing as time (chronos) reinstates the illusion of stability. Young masters mature through life experience and come to value different perspectives.
Perhaps it is because we live in a time of interconnected worldwide transportation and communication that we might be more able to evolve past limited perspectives. We are aware of so much going on the world, we can see how small our own niches are compared to the whole, and how much potential there is for growth if we focus on resources we haven’t tapped, rather than fighting over the scraps that we have.
2006 was a year of coming together, particularly here in NorCal. Serrada had its most significant gathering since Angel died, and Sonny’s students came together to support him and begin carrying forth that art. Thanks to Alex France, those of us here in the Bay Area were treated to a rare series of seminars by visiting masters and grandmasters. Finally and significantly, a major new venue for showcasing the FMA opened up through the USFMA Federation, which was organized as the sponsor to incorporate Filipino martial arts into the annual Disney World Festival of Martial arts.
All of these events show the positive energy that is created when people come together. If we want to see the FMA grow in popularity, and to see schools and teachers doing well, we have to continue to put in energy and support the arts. After all, we, the participants, ARE the art. It only exists through us, so here is what I’d like to see people do: Support FMA events!
Attend seminars! This doesn’t mean you necessarily want to learn a whole new system or that you are being disloyal to your teacher. It’s a chance to see how others do similar things, and what is different. If I get one good idea at a seminar, it’s good for a lifetime. Diamond hunters don’t expect a rare gem every day and knowledge can be like that too. Even if I don’t add new techniques, I can add understanding of what others do and how they train, and of course there could be other people attending the seminar with whom to connect as well.
Now, I’ve been to seminars where only a few others came, which is their loss, not mine. Some seminars have even been cancelled. This is a shame, reflecting more on the community than on those offering the event. It is as though the arts are held in such low regard that there isn’t enough interest to even see what is offered. If people don’t support seminars, they won’t get them, and then the alternatives are either to travel ourselves to distant schools or to insulate ourselves in our own groups.
Tournaments! Now I know not everyone likes these, but there are many reasons to attend even if you don’t compete. First, where else are you going to find as many people who share your passion for these arts? I remember men like Angel Cabales, Sonny Umpad and others standing together, talking and watching, back in San Jose in 1988. The founders of the Dog Brothers began to germinate their ideas that day. In 1989 WEKAF was founded, first bringing together many styles from different countries. If you go to major events, you get to see, meet and interact with folks you might never otherwise encounter. Those opportunities are rare and valuable! I can’t stress that enough.
For those who do compete, there are other reasons. Competition is a chance to test yourself, to see what you’ve learned and what still needs further polish. The element of stress changes things, whether fear or excitement. Fighting new opponents without the safety net of predictability is as close to real fighting as many will experience. Win or lose in the judge’s eyes, the chance to learn something is always a win-win opportunity.
For more than 20 years I’ve heard the FMA called “the next big thing.” Now we have the chance to show that we have grown, and only we can show that it’s truly our time to be recognized in our own right as a powerful force within the martial art community. If you’ve never been to a tournament, the time is now, and if you have, your continued support is urged. The first major USFMAF event is the national qualifier Feb. 3-4 in Anaheim, Ca., with seminars on Saturday and competition on Sunday.
ESPN2 covers these events. I watched the demonstrations posted online from the Disney national championships in Florida this past October. Darren Tibon took a demo squad to give a preview of FMA for the next tournament. Their performance (about 1hr 21 minutes into the show), following a number of demonstrations by various champions, was stunning in its intensity. The announcers clearly were impressed, suddenly re-energized towards the end of a long day and evening. The authenticity of our arts is what first attracted me, and that was the impression I saw in the faces of those announcers. It is what we, as a whole, have a chance to bring and showcase to the world. The benefits down the road come to all of us if through our efforts and enthusiasm we attract more people to train seriously in our arts.
The USFMAF is not about any one style; all are welcome and encouraged to participate. It is not competing against other organizations; there are WEKAF members who are proudly supporting this new effort to promote the arts. Show up. Bring friends and classmates. Learn, have fun, make friends. You will grow in the art, and the art will grow in you, and through you.
Most folks reading this are avid FMA’ers, but whatever you do, I’d encourage you to find and follow your passion this year, to make it one of personal growth. Through our efforts we become the change we wish to see. This is true of us as individuals, and it is multiplied through the power of working together. Remember that beyond our style, our lineage, our allegiances, we are connected through common goals, and beyond that, our humanity.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Missing The Boat
Are you serious about your training in the Filipino martial arts? If you are reading this blog, then I’m presupposing you have more than a passing interest in the subject, in which case, here’s my challenge:
Are you really doing everything you can to expand your knowledge and skills? If you are like the majority of folks out there, I would have to say “probably not,” and the reason, as I see it, is insularity. Most of us become comfortable training in our own little bubble, content what is easy, unwilling to look beyond what is convenient.
In the old days the FMA were highly secretive, passed down within families or secret societies. The reason for this was survival. Partly this was due to the oppression of the Spanish colonial era, but at a more fundamental level it can also be attributed to the complexities of Filipino culture, which is one of the world’s most ethnically and linguistically diverse. Rivalry and competition for survival was (and still is) fierce down to the basic structure of society, and so fighting skills were closely guarded secrets in order to preserve the split second advantages that could mean the difference between life and death.
Nowadays, however, we live in a golden age for FMA training. Migration and travel have spread practitioners around the globe while modern media has spread the word. The advent of the internet created a broader forum and recognition for the FMA, stimulating growth by providing contact and access to any seeking these skills.
While the FMA expanded worldwide, however, it also exported some of the baggage associated with old cultural values. I’m specifically referring to the rivalries, often fueled by machismo that helped push the arts underground in the first place. Even while Filipinos banded together for survival in new and unfamiliar places, it still was not uncommon to hear various manongs (old masters) talk derisively about their compatriots. They may have presented a common front to outsiders, but within their own communities old divisions continued, delineated by lineage, language and regional origin.
Early FMA in the U.S. followed tradition, staying within closed doors. This began to change when Angel Cabales opened the first public FMA academy in Stockton in 1966, but as others followed this example, stylistic rivalries were perpetuated. Sad to say, people who had grown up together became separated simply because they went to train in different schools, and much of the responsibility for this lies with their teachers.
While the attribute of fierce dedication to one’s training developed fierce warriors, it also limited the ability of the FMA to propagate in a more open society. Most people come to martial arts seeking a path to personal freedom, the ability to defend themselves and feel safe. The “us versus them” mindset didn’t translate well into a more egalitarian society and so the FMA remained largely the purview of those personally loyal to a single teacher or style.
It is perhaps in the last fifteen years or so that these self-imposed limitations have begun to fade. Just as Moses could lead the Israelites out of Egypt, it has taken a new generation of leadership to move forward into a new land, unshackled by the prejudices of a different time and place. Organizations like WEKAF and the new USFMAF have created forums that cross stylistic boundaries, opening heightened visibility for the Filipino arts, yet there is still much further to go.
When I first encountered the FMA in 1979, there were only a handful of teachers on either coast. If you wanted to train, it took dedication and commitment. Showing up was often a pilgrimage; one frequently had to travel far or relocate to attend classes, and so loyalty to a school was built in, since there were few options and only the most dedicated persevered.
Nearly a decade later, some small progress had been made. There were a few more established schools, but the FMA community was still small enough that in most areas, local practitioners knew who else was involved, even if in different programs. The seminar circuit was just starting up, mostly through Remy Presas and Dan Inosanto.
I was naïve enough back then to assume others were as hungry to expand their knowledge as was I, so I was astounded in 1987 when I approached one practitioner, a junior instructor in another martial art who also dabbled in FMA, with an invitation to a rare Bay Area seminar by grandmaster Angel Cabales. Though the opportunity was presented to experience a legendary teacher right in this person’s own neighborhood, the offer was declined with the comment that “I only train with so-and-so, who comes by once or twice a year, and he’ll be back in about six months.”
Now back then I trained daily on my own and with partners, and took weekly lessons with each of my teachers in FMA, Kenpo and Tai Chi Chuan, so I was astonished that someone who perhaps got a seminar twice a year would not even consider getting in some extra training, especially of such caliber. Experience is cumulative and is the basis for skill and, perhaps, wisdom. It’s one thing to be loyal to a teacher or school, but it’s another to ignore what others are doing in the same field of endeavor, whatever that might be.
Since one is more likely, as a martial artist, to encounter those who have NOT trained in your school or style, it would seem common sense that learning what others might do would be an advantage. As the saying goes, “Know your enemy.” Remember the earlier points about preserving secrecy to prevent rivals from figuring out how to beat you; now that the knowledge was practically being given away, such a gift was ignored! I can imagine reaction of many an old warrior to that one.
Fast-forward twenty years to the present. There are many more FMA schools across the land and as the marketplace has grown, prospective students have more choices where to go. Teachers have trained teachers who are now themselves trainers of teachers, perpetuating both old styles and spinning off new variants, so the arts are not so rare or hard to find. Though classes are still generally fairly small, the overall number of practitioners has grown in proportion. For the most part teachers and students in local communities know of each other, and most contact is respectful or even cordial, yet that same sense of insularity remains. Too often there is still that attitude that everything we need to know is contained in one place alone.
I’d like to challenge that belief, and I’ll use a simple example. Virtually every martial art teaches the armbar. It is arguably the most basic joint lock because it is simple and effective. Between styles one might find variations on applying this technique based on entries and leverage, and within any given style there will be subtle nuances based on size, strength, sensitivity, skill, experience and understanding. The more one learns about applying this one lock, the deeper one’s own practice becomes. Each new bit of information that is assimilated expands our own ability, not only to apply this technique but also to see and avoid the setups that might be applied against us.
There’s a joke that the most common phrase in the FMA is “Oh, we have that too,” but if this were true, there would only be one style encompassing the whole art. We clearly see that there are differences, based on pragmatic things such as weaponry and footwork, yet all too often fleeting chances to explore new possibilities are allowed to pass, and who knows when such might come again? Many are those who have “intended” for year after year to train with a master, only to see that teacher, and the opportunity, pass away.
A couple of recent “we have that too” examples come to mind. In the first one, I spoke with a teacher whom I respect about sending a couple of his top students to check out the Visayan doblecada seminar that was recently held in Oakland (there’s another coming Dec. 3rd). I got the “we have that too” response. I don’t know what double stick training takes place at this particular academy, but as his art is predominantly based on single stick, I doubt the time and energy has been spent developing the sophistication behind Sonny Umpad’s methods. To whatever degree double sticks are emphasized, I think it’s a fair assumption that the details will be different. Each art has an area of focus and specialization, and by cross-training, we can go straight to the heart of the matter without having to reinvent the wheel for every aspect we encounter.
Despite lack of interest from this one source, at least the doblecada seminar was reasonably well attended. A more poignant example of lack of support took place this past weekend, however, when grandmaster Crispulo Atillo’s Balintawok seminar here in the Bay Area was cancelled due to lack of interest. Many of us here have not seen Balintawok, a Cebuano art related to Doce Pares, Serrada and Visayan Corto Kadena, among others, and so this was a chance to fill in some blanks. From my own point of view, I’ve found each variant of the similar themes among these arts adds to my understanding of the overall qualities characteristic to the central Philippines. Is this so uncommon a view?
How long can we expect old grandmasters to be available to help us develop our skills? At what point will promoters stop trying to give us opportunities to meet these men? It costs money bring people from far away. Arrangements have to be made. In a situation like this, where there is no apparent interest in the seminar, the choice is between cutting one’s losses or incurring greater ones. Worse, it forces the promoter to reconsider similar offerings in the future. After all, why should he throw money away? It isn’t a question of making money from the event, but at least feeling the community is willing to share the burden in order to gain the benefit of shared experience. The money lost in this particular venture could have been spent more productively if the promoter had simply traveled on his own to attend a seminar elsewhere. While this would have been personally rewarding, he took the chance instead to offer something special for the rest of us, and for this he got burned.
The Bay Area is considered a hotbed of Filipino martial arts. It’s a seminal location for numerous styles in the U.S. Perhaps we are spoiled by the plethora of choices available nowadays, but this is an illusion if we don’t avail ourselves of the opportunities that arise. After all, the choices we ignore become meaningless. One direction adds to our level of experience, the other means we stand pat. As I’ve heard many times, we either move forward or we are moving backwards; to remain in place is to let the world pass us by.
Are you really doing everything you can to expand your knowledge and skills? If you are like the majority of folks out there, I would have to say “probably not,” and the reason, as I see it, is insularity. Most of us become comfortable training in our own little bubble, content what is easy, unwilling to look beyond what is convenient.
In the old days the FMA were highly secretive, passed down within families or secret societies. The reason for this was survival. Partly this was due to the oppression of the Spanish colonial era, but at a more fundamental level it can also be attributed to the complexities of Filipino culture, which is one of the world’s most ethnically and linguistically diverse. Rivalry and competition for survival was (and still is) fierce down to the basic structure of society, and so fighting skills were closely guarded secrets in order to preserve the split second advantages that could mean the difference between life and death.
Nowadays, however, we live in a golden age for FMA training. Migration and travel have spread practitioners around the globe while modern media has spread the word. The advent of the internet created a broader forum and recognition for the FMA, stimulating growth by providing contact and access to any seeking these skills.
While the FMA expanded worldwide, however, it also exported some of the baggage associated with old cultural values. I’m specifically referring to the rivalries, often fueled by machismo that helped push the arts underground in the first place. Even while Filipinos banded together for survival in new and unfamiliar places, it still was not uncommon to hear various manongs (old masters) talk derisively about their compatriots. They may have presented a common front to outsiders, but within their own communities old divisions continued, delineated by lineage, language and regional origin.
Early FMA in the U.S. followed tradition, staying within closed doors. This began to change when Angel Cabales opened the first public FMA academy in Stockton in 1966, but as others followed this example, stylistic rivalries were perpetuated. Sad to say, people who had grown up together became separated simply because they went to train in different schools, and much of the responsibility for this lies with their teachers.
While the attribute of fierce dedication to one’s training developed fierce warriors, it also limited the ability of the FMA to propagate in a more open society. Most people come to martial arts seeking a path to personal freedom, the ability to defend themselves and feel safe. The “us versus them” mindset didn’t translate well into a more egalitarian society and so the FMA remained largely the purview of those personally loyal to a single teacher or style.
It is perhaps in the last fifteen years or so that these self-imposed limitations have begun to fade. Just as Moses could lead the Israelites out of Egypt, it has taken a new generation of leadership to move forward into a new land, unshackled by the prejudices of a different time and place. Organizations like WEKAF and the new USFMAF have created forums that cross stylistic boundaries, opening heightened visibility for the Filipino arts, yet there is still much further to go.
When I first encountered the FMA in 1979, there were only a handful of teachers on either coast. If you wanted to train, it took dedication and commitment. Showing up was often a pilgrimage; one frequently had to travel far or relocate to attend classes, and so loyalty to a school was built in, since there were few options and only the most dedicated persevered.
Nearly a decade later, some small progress had been made. There were a few more established schools, but the FMA community was still small enough that in most areas, local practitioners knew who else was involved, even if in different programs. The seminar circuit was just starting up, mostly through Remy Presas and Dan Inosanto.
I was naïve enough back then to assume others were as hungry to expand their knowledge as was I, so I was astounded in 1987 when I approached one practitioner, a junior instructor in another martial art who also dabbled in FMA, with an invitation to a rare Bay Area seminar by grandmaster Angel Cabales. Though the opportunity was presented to experience a legendary teacher right in this person’s own neighborhood, the offer was declined with the comment that “I only train with so-and-so, who comes by once or twice a year, and he’ll be back in about six months.”
Now back then I trained daily on my own and with partners, and took weekly lessons with each of my teachers in FMA, Kenpo and Tai Chi Chuan, so I was astonished that someone who perhaps got a seminar twice a year would not even consider getting in some extra training, especially of such caliber. Experience is cumulative and is the basis for skill and, perhaps, wisdom. It’s one thing to be loyal to a teacher or school, but it’s another to ignore what others are doing in the same field of endeavor, whatever that might be.
Since one is more likely, as a martial artist, to encounter those who have NOT trained in your school or style, it would seem common sense that learning what others might do would be an advantage. As the saying goes, “Know your enemy.” Remember the earlier points about preserving secrecy to prevent rivals from figuring out how to beat you; now that the knowledge was practically being given away, such a gift was ignored! I can imagine reaction of many an old warrior to that one.
Fast-forward twenty years to the present. There are many more FMA schools across the land and as the marketplace has grown, prospective students have more choices where to go. Teachers have trained teachers who are now themselves trainers of teachers, perpetuating both old styles and spinning off new variants, so the arts are not so rare or hard to find. Though classes are still generally fairly small, the overall number of practitioners has grown in proportion. For the most part teachers and students in local communities know of each other, and most contact is respectful or even cordial, yet that same sense of insularity remains. Too often there is still that attitude that everything we need to know is contained in one place alone.
I’d like to challenge that belief, and I’ll use a simple example. Virtually every martial art teaches the armbar. It is arguably the most basic joint lock because it is simple and effective. Between styles one might find variations on applying this technique based on entries and leverage, and within any given style there will be subtle nuances based on size, strength, sensitivity, skill, experience and understanding. The more one learns about applying this one lock, the deeper one’s own practice becomes. Each new bit of information that is assimilated expands our own ability, not only to apply this technique but also to see and avoid the setups that might be applied against us.
There’s a joke that the most common phrase in the FMA is “Oh, we have that too,” but if this were true, there would only be one style encompassing the whole art. We clearly see that there are differences, based on pragmatic things such as weaponry and footwork, yet all too often fleeting chances to explore new possibilities are allowed to pass, and who knows when such might come again? Many are those who have “intended” for year after year to train with a master, only to see that teacher, and the opportunity, pass away.
A couple of recent “we have that too” examples come to mind. In the first one, I spoke with a teacher whom I respect about sending a couple of his top students to check out the Visayan doblecada seminar that was recently held in Oakland (there’s another coming Dec. 3rd). I got the “we have that too” response. I don’t know what double stick training takes place at this particular academy, but as his art is predominantly based on single stick, I doubt the time and energy has been spent developing the sophistication behind Sonny Umpad’s methods. To whatever degree double sticks are emphasized, I think it’s a fair assumption that the details will be different. Each art has an area of focus and specialization, and by cross-training, we can go straight to the heart of the matter without having to reinvent the wheel for every aspect we encounter.
Despite lack of interest from this one source, at least the doblecada seminar was reasonably well attended. A more poignant example of lack of support took place this past weekend, however, when grandmaster Crispulo Atillo’s Balintawok seminar here in the Bay Area was cancelled due to lack of interest. Many of us here have not seen Balintawok, a Cebuano art related to Doce Pares, Serrada and Visayan Corto Kadena, among others, and so this was a chance to fill in some blanks. From my own point of view, I’ve found each variant of the similar themes among these arts adds to my understanding of the overall qualities characteristic to the central Philippines. Is this so uncommon a view?
How long can we expect old grandmasters to be available to help us develop our skills? At what point will promoters stop trying to give us opportunities to meet these men? It costs money bring people from far away. Arrangements have to be made. In a situation like this, where there is no apparent interest in the seminar, the choice is between cutting one’s losses or incurring greater ones. Worse, it forces the promoter to reconsider similar offerings in the future. After all, why should he throw money away? It isn’t a question of making money from the event, but at least feeling the community is willing to share the burden in order to gain the benefit of shared experience. The money lost in this particular venture could have been spent more productively if the promoter had simply traveled on his own to attend a seminar elsewhere. While this would have been personally rewarding, he took the chance instead to offer something special for the rest of us, and for this he got burned.
The Bay Area is considered a hotbed of Filipino martial arts. It’s a seminal location for numerous styles in the U.S. Perhaps we are spoiled by the plethora of choices available nowadays, but this is an illusion if we don’t avail ourselves of the opportunities that arise. After all, the choices we ignore become meaningless. One direction adds to our level of experience, the other means we stand pat. As I’ve heard many times, we either move forward or we are moving backwards; to remain in place is to let the world pass us by.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Finally a new post!
My apologies for not posting any writings for the past six weeks, with the exception of the doblecada seminar written by Josh Newman. I think it’s fair to say I was experiencing a bit of burnout after all the activity surrounding the passing of the late great Sonny Umpad.
With articles promised for the FMA Digest and the US FMA Federation (still pending) I had a lot on my plate just with writing. I actually wrote three entries during this time but the words weren’t flowing. It felt like I had to drag each one out, and I wasn’t satisfied with the results. I felt the need to lay low to refresh the batteries.
It didn’t help that I started getting repetitive stress syndrome in my hands from so much typing. What was particularly painful was clicking the mouse. It got to where I just didn’t want to touch it. On the other hand, this motivated me to fix a broken laptop, which uses a touchpad. Sometimes changing patterns is a necessity, a metaphor if I’ve ever penned one.
It’s not as though nothing interesting was happening these past couple of months. In fact, the problem was the exact opposite. There was an explosion of energy that was hard to put down in words. On a social level a lot of people were coming together, amplifying the resonance of remembering, sharing and practicing, and this was reflected personally as well. It’s been a period of intense growth for everyone involved at any level. Such times of accelerated consciousness are rare but leave a mark long after the buzz fades to memory. Through time those results will speak for themselves.
For the first month or so I was going to as many workouts as would fit my schedule. Maija started her sword class, which was an amazing opportunity to flow and to remember the gist of Sonny’s footwork. George Yore, Chris Suboreau and Mike Braten were preparing for the doblecada seminar and I was able to visit some of their sessions, revisiting that material as well.
For what it’s worth, the swordwork integrated easily with Serrada. Angel taught the stick as basic for blade, and Sonny understood the principles of Serrada. This isn’t to say I don’t have a lot to learn through the nuances of actually practicing with edged weapons; it’s experience that builds awareness and skill. I may understand the overall movement, but there are many subtleties to the art, which Maija Soderholm has demonstrated to me quite effectively in her classes.
The doblecada, on the other hand, presented me with an even more formidable challenge. I realized I’d never really worked on double sticks for any intensive or extended interval. I check well with my live hand, and that is a key to espada y daga. Using two long sticks, however, changes the dynamic of leverage and timing with that left hand. It now mirrors the movement of the right rather than complementing it by filling gaps.
I’d long heard that the main benefit of practicing double sticks was to develop power on the opposite side, as much to have it available if the right side is injured as for actual practical use of double weapons. Most of the manongs I’ve met have described single weapon training as the heart of the art, for the fact that one is most likely to have one available at any given time rather than a matched pair, and the timing of the live hand goes with it.
Generally what I’ve seen of double sticks is based on generic six-counts, with variations on the positions found within that pattern. Many schools teach this more as exercise rather than applied tactics. It’s been something to know, but never felt interesting enough for me to pursue in depth. It’s important to understand such basics since they are common, but memorizing preset steps for longer sequences felt arbitrary to me. This is what my late Tai Chi instructor John Wong called “dead art,” referring to the level of practitioner, not the material itself. It reminded me of the katas I practiced many years ago, which at the time I could not translate into fighting skill.
The difference I’m experiencing with Sonny’s material comes from the inside roll and leverage, which are unfamiliar to most folks, and how shifting body angles exploits the power and accuracy in those moves. At first some of the angling felt awkward. New information often feels that way until it’s properly filed. After awhile the movement started to mesh with what I already know, settling into niches that expand on what is familiar, a bit like a glove covering a hand. For instance, there is a high guard position across the chest that is similar to the Serrada “lock” position, a realization that has enhanced my understanding of both the “lock” and the inside roll. I’m also finding the levers are better as extensions rather than primary sources of power, and that the core source still comes from movement of one’s center.
For the past two months now I’ve been focused almost exclusively on this material. I’ve mostly worked the doblecada, until my left hand is starting to feel what the right already knows. In the process I’m learning that each side has its strengths and weaknesses, which I’m striving to balance out. I’ve also been playing with Serrada techniques, breaking them down into basic combinations that make sense with two longer weapons.
My training change-up has been to the blade, mostly with 18-24” but sometimes longer or shorter. Focusing with the tip enhances the stick as well, but blades add aspects that sticks do somewhat differently. Examples might be certain slices or rakes, using different parts of the blade according to range and whether defensive or offensive in nature.
None of this is too different from what I already do, but the specific practices add new wrinkles to my art. I always imagine what the tip of my weapon sees, since it has a perspective different than my eyes (and the same applies to empty hands, kicks etc). This new work is expanding that field of vision, which is basically what Sonny taught, to see rather than just to do techniques. I’ve long preached being “target oriented” – see the target, hit it – which comes a bit from what I read of Zen archery as a kid. How you accomplish your task is subordinate to the will to act itself; the purpose of training is to be ready for the opportunity in the best way possible.
In the previous paragraph I used the term “my art” which I realize might not agree with everyone. For instance, many people say they do their teacher’s art. On some level, yes, we do what we are taught, as did our teachers, and so we give credit where it is due. On the other hand, who ultimately created or owned that knowledge? Do we not each embark on our own voyage of discovery?
For the moment I’ll say it like this: When the art owns us, it is political. When we own the art, it is personal. In other words, we go from an external frame of reference to an internal one.
Serrada is still my base. Nothing I’ve seen has yet made it obsolete, as it lays out a highly efficient roadmap of options. It is a great technical foundation by itself, but all systems are training aids to induce understanding and which indoctrinate certain principles.
Form follows function, meaning that your concept will create the means of achieving the goal. True artists know the rules of their craft, but will break those rules when applicable, whether consciously or not. When one flows freely, that is the “live art” John Wong described. Our only boundaries are the limits and implementation of our vision.
With articles promised for the FMA Digest and the US FMA Federation (still pending) I had a lot on my plate just with writing. I actually wrote three entries during this time but the words weren’t flowing. It felt like I had to drag each one out, and I wasn’t satisfied with the results. I felt the need to lay low to refresh the batteries.
It didn’t help that I started getting repetitive stress syndrome in my hands from so much typing. What was particularly painful was clicking the mouse. It got to where I just didn’t want to touch it. On the other hand, this motivated me to fix a broken laptop, which uses a touchpad. Sometimes changing patterns is a necessity, a metaphor if I’ve ever penned one.
It’s not as though nothing interesting was happening these past couple of months. In fact, the problem was the exact opposite. There was an explosion of energy that was hard to put down in words. On a social level a lot of people were coming together, amplifying the resonance of remembering, sharing and practicing, and this was reflected personally as well. It’s been a period of intense growth for everyone involved at any level. Such times of accelerated consciousness are rare but leave a mark long after the buzz fades to memory. Through time those results will speak for themselves.
For the first month or so I was going to as many workouts as would fit my schedule. Maija started her sword class, which was an amazing opportunity to flow and to remember the gist of Sonny’s footwork. George Yore, Chris Suboreau and Mike Braten were preparing for the doblecada seminar and I was able to visit some of their sessions, revisiting that material as well.
For what it’s worth, the swordwork integrated easily with Serrada. Angel taught the stick as basic for blade, and Sonny understood the principles of Serrada. This isn’t to say I don’t have a lot to learn through the nuances of actually practicing with edged weapons; it’s experience that builds awareness and skill. I may understand the overall movement, but there are many subtleties to the art, which Maija Soderholm has demonstrated to me quite effectively in her classes.
The doblecada, on the other hand, presented me with an even more formidable challenge. I realized I’d never really worked on double sticks for any intensive or extended interval. I check well with my live hand, and that is a key to espada y daga. Using two long sticks, however, changes the dynamic of leverage and timing with that left hand. It now mirrors the movement of the right rather than complementing it by filling gaps.
I’d long heard that the main benefit of practicing double sticks was to develop power on the opposite side, as much to have it available if the right side is injured as for actual practical use of double weapons. Most of the manongs I’ve met have described single weapon training as the heart of the art, for the fact that one is most likely to have one available at any given time rather than a matched pair, and the timing of the live hand goes with it.
Generally what I’ve seen of double sticks is based on generic six-counts, with variations on the positions found within that pattern. Many schools teach this more as exercise rather than applied tactics. It’s been something to know, but never felt interesting enough for me to pursue in depth. It’s important to understand such basics since they are common, but memorizing preset steps for longer sequences felt arbitrary to me. This is what my late Tai Chi instructor John Wong called “dead art,” referring to the level of practitioner, not the material itself. It reminded me of the katas I practiced many years ago, which at the time I could not translate into fighting skill.
The difference I’m experiencing with Sonny’s material comes from the inside roll and leverage, which are unfamiliar to most folks, and how shifting body angles exploits the power and accuracy in those moves. At first some of the angling felt awkward. New information often feels that way until it’s properly filed. After awhile the movement started to mesh with what I already know, settling into niches that expand on what is familiar, a bit like a glove covering a hand. For instance, there is a high guard position across the chest that is similar to the Serrada “lock” position, a realization that has enhanced my understanding of both the “lock” and the inside roll. I’m also finding the levers are better as extensions rather than primary sources of power, and that the core source still comes from movement of one’s center.
For the past two months now I’ve been focused almost exclusively on this material. I’ve mostly worked the doblecada, until my left hand is starting to feel what the right already knows. In the process I’m learning that each side has its strengths and weaknesses, which I’m striving to balance out. I’ve also been playing with Serrada techniques, breaking them down into basic combinations that make sense with two longer weapons.
My training change-up has been to the blade, mostly with 18-24” but sometimes longer or shorter. Focusing with the tip enhances the stick as well, but blades add aspects that sticks do somewhat differently. Examples might be certain slices or rakes, using different parts of the blade according to range and whether defensive or offensive in nature.
None of this is too different from what I already do, but the specific practices add new wrinkles to my art. I always imagine what the tip of my weapon sees, since it has a perspective different than my eyes (and the same applies to empty hands, kicks etc). This new work is expanding that field of vision, which is basically what Sonny taught, to see rather than just to do techniques. I’ve long preached being “target oriented” – see the target, hit it – which comes a bit from what I read of Zen archery as a kid. How you accomplish your task is subordinate to the will to act itself; the purpose of training is to be ready for the opportunity in the best way possible.
In the previous paragraph I used the term “my art” which I realize might not agree with everyone. For instance, many people say they do their teacher’s art. On some level, yes, we do what we are taught, as did our teachers, and so we give credit where it is due. On the other hand, who ultimately created or owned that knowledge? Do we not each embark on our own voyage of discovery?
For the moment I’ll say it like this: When the art owns us, it is political. When we own the art, it is personal. In other words, we go from an external frame of reference to an internal one.
Serrada is still my base. Nothing I’ve seen has yet made it obsolete, as it lays out a highly efficient roadmap of options. It is a great technical foundation by itself, but all systems are training aids to induce understanding and which indoctrinate certain principles.
Form follows function, meaning that your concept will create the means of achieving the goal. True artists know the rules of their craft, but will break those rules when applicable, whether consciously or not. When one flows freely, that is the “live art” John Wong described. Our only boundaries are the limits and implementation of our vision.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Doblecada seminar review by Joshua
This is an excellent write-up sent by Joshua, one of my students who attended yesterday's seminar. With his permission, I'm posting it here. - Jeff
************************************************************
I wish more of us could have attended the Visayan Corto Kadena doblecada seminar yesterday; an amazing amount of information was presented in just those few hours -- enough to fill my practice hours for months, I would guess -- and presented in a way that was easy to understand (and I hope will be easy to retain).
The personal attention each person received from the instructors made the class a very efficient one (it seemed as if there was always someone close by watching and helping us adjust what we were doing, so it was possible to quickly "catch" the movements and techniques presented, and that let the class move quickly through the material), and the other students were a pleasure to work with.
The instructors stressed safety and precision, which seem to be trademarks of Sonny Umpad's guros just as they are with our classes, and they were very much hands-on, giving individual attention, adjusting posture or stance, explaining and demonstrating fine points of technique, and frequently working one-on-one, throughout the four hours.
The material they presented ranged from Maestro Sonny's inside roll through a series of techniques that build speed and power through leverage and spring-loading. From my perspective (as someone very new to this style), the Visayan double-stick techniques seem to stress extreme economy of motion, especially hand motion (which naturally brings speed), the development of power through spring-loading and leverage using one's own body and sticks as fulcrums (and also the opponent's body and sticks), and what I'll call "deceptiveness" -- in which body angling and footwork combine with line of attack and the economy of motion and the spring-loading that are built into the hand and stickwork, so as to make it very difficult to read the attacks; they seem to come out of nowhere. Although we worked with sticks, the instructors stressed blade orientation throughout and the seminar ended with a stunning espada y daga demonstration (using the sequence of techniques we had been working for the previous hour) that showed clearly why it is of such importance.
(I was fortunate in being able to practice this same sequence, using blades, with one of the instructors, Chris Suboreau, at the end of the class; he demonstrated some of the finer points and sharpened my understanding.)
There was also training gear available for purchase. One of Maestro Sonny's longtime friends, Kenny Gee, brought padded practice sticks and a piece of training gear whose name I don't know (I'll call it a quiet target and describe it in a minute), and one of the Visayan students brought high-quality aluminum training knives and swords.
The quiet target training device (I bought one and will bring it to our next Wednesday practice if anyone is interested in seeing it) is a 6' length of heavy canvas (I think) tubing about 3" wide, grommeted at both ends so that it can be hung from a hook or beam and held steady with a weight at the bottom. Inside it is what feels like heavy chain (see "comment" for correction of this). It allows for precise targeting and full-power strikes, and it's portable enough that it really could be hung almost anywhere. It looks like it can take the impact of "real" sticks just fine, but together with the padded practice sticks it's QUIET ... if you live alone in a wilderness this is probably not important to you, but if there are others nearby who might be affected by the repeated impact of a hard stick on, let's say, a 2x4 upright, the value of a relatively quiet target increases.
Overall, anyone who went would have taken away enough to practice and think about for a long time, and of course this barely scratched the surface. I hope that the Visayan Corto Kadena instructors will keep doing seminars! If anyone gets a chance to attend one in future -- I'd say, "Just Do It."
************************************************************
I wish more of us could have attended the Visayan Corto Kadena doblecada seminar yesterday; an amazing amount of information was presented in just those few hours -- enough to fill my practice hours for months, I would guess -- and presented in a way that was easy to understand (and I hope will be easy to retain).
The personal attention each person received from the instructors made the class a very efficient one (it seemed as if there was always someone close by watching and helping us adjust what we were doing, so it was possible to quickly "catch" the movements and techniques presented, and that let the class move quickly through the material), and the other students were a pleasure to work with.
The instructors stressed safety and precision, which seem to be trademarks of Sonny Umpad's guros just as they are with our classes, and they were very much hands-on, giving individual attention, adjusting posture or stance, explaining and demonstrating fine points of technique, and frequently working one-on-one, throughout the four hours.
The material they presented ranged from Maestro Sonny's inside roll through a series of techniques that build speed and power through leverage and spring-loading. From my perspective (as someone very new to this style), the Visayan double-stick techniques seem to stress extreme economy of motion, especially hand motion (which naturally brings speed), the development of power through spring-loading and leverage using one's own body and sticks as fulcrums (and also the opponent's body and sticks), and what I'll call "deceptiveness" -- in which body angling and footwork combine with line of attack and the economy of motion and the spring-loading that are built into the hand and stickwork, so as to make it very difficult to read the attacks; they seem to come out of nowhere. Although we worked with sticks, the instructors stressed blade orientation throughout and the seminar ended with a stunning espada y daga demonstration (using the sequence of techniques we had been working for the previous hour) that showed clearly why it is of such importance.
(I was fortunate in being able to practice this same sequence, using blades, with one of the instructors, Chris Suboreau, at the end of the class; he demonstrated some of the finer points and sharpened my understanding.)
There was also training gear available for purchase. One of Maestro Sonny's longtime friends, Kenny Gee, brought padded practice sticks and a piece of training gear whose name I don't know (I'll call it a quiet target and describe it in a minute), and one of the Visayan students brought high-quality aluminum training knives and swords.
The quiet target training device (I bought one and will bring it to our next Wednesday practice if anyone is interested in seeing it) is a 6' length of heavy canvas (I think) tubing about 3" wide, grommeted at both ends so that it can be hung from a hook or beam and held steady with a weight at the bottom. Inside it is what feels like heavy chain (see "comment" for correction of this). It allows for precise targeting and full-power strikes, and it's portable enough that it really could be hung almost anywhere. It looks like it can take the impact of "real" sticks just fine, but together with the padded practice sticks it's QUIET ... if you live alone in a wilderness this is probably not important to you, but if there are others nearby who might be affected by the repeated impact of a hard stick on, let's say, a 2x4 upright, the value of a relatively quiet target increases.
Overall, anyone who went would have taken away enough to practice and think about for a long time, and of course this barely scratched the surface. I hope that the Visayan Corto Kadena instructors will keep doing seminars! If anyone gets a chance to attend one in future -- I'd say, "Just Do It."
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Visayan Corto Kadena Doblecada Seminar
I highly recommend this seminar on Sunday October 15! Sonny Umpad's techniques for double sticks are the most evolved I've ever seen. They are very tight and use advanced application of leverage to generate tremendous speed and power in short range. These principles will not only change the way you view double sticks but will also add depth to any other single or double weaponry.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Be a light unto yourself
My favorite philosopher is Jiddu Krishnamurti (1895-1996), who communicated with extraordinarily lucid clarity. Discovered at age 14 by the Theosophists, who proclaimed him the Second Coming of Christ, by age 34 he rejected all their claims and worldly wealth, believing that “To progress from being a sinner to being a saint is to progress from one illusion to another.”
The quote below is from a bookmark I've had for years, given to me by someone who was a member of the foundation created to preserve his teachings. The message is universal, but to martial artists they seem particularly appropriate directions for integration of the body and mind.
- Jeff
**************************************************
"To be aware is to watch your bodily activity, the way you walk, the way you sit, the movements of your hands; it is to hear the words you use, to observe all your thoughts, all your emotions, all your reactions. It includes awareness of the unconscious, with its traditions, its instinctual knowledge, and the immense sorrow it has accumulated – not only personal sorrow, but the sorrow of man. You have to be aware of all that; and you cannot be aware of it if you are merely judging, evaluating, saying, “This is good and that is bad, this I will keep and that I will reject,” all of which only makes the mind dull, insensitive.
From awareness comes attention. Attention flows from awareness when in that awareness there is no choice, no personal choosing, no experiencing … but merely observing. And to observe you must have in the mind a great deal of space. A mind that is caught in ambition, greed, envy, in the pursuit of pleasure and self-fulfillment, with its inevitable sorrow, pain, despair, anguish, such a mind has no space in which to observe, to attend. It is crowded with its own desires, going round and round in its own backwaters of reaction. You cannot attend if your mind is not highly sensitive, sharp, reasonable, logical, sane, healthy, without the slightest shadow of neuroticism. The mind has to explore every corner of itself, leaving no spot uncovered, because if there is a single dark corner of one’s mind which one is afraid to explore, from that springs illusion …
It is only in the state of attention that you can be a light unto yourself, and then every action of your daily life springs from that light – every action – whether you are doing your job, cooking, going for a walk, mending clothes, or what you will. This whole process is meditation …"
J. Krishnamurti
The quote below is from a bookmark I've had for years, given to me by someone who was a member of the foundation created to preserve his teachings. The message is universal, but to martial artists they seem particularly appropriate directions for integration of the body and mind.
- Jeff
**************************************************
"To be aware is to watch your bodily activity, the way you walk, the way you sit, the movements of your hands; it is to hear the words you use, to observe all your thoughts, all your emotions, all your reactions. It includes awareness of the unconscious, with its traditions, its instinctual knowledge, and the immense sorrow it has accumulated – not only personal sorrow, but the sorrow of man. You have to be aware of all that; and you cannot be aware of it if you are merely judging, evaluating, saying, “This is good and that is bad, this I will keep and that I will reject,” all of which only makes the mind dull, insensitive.
From awareness comes attention. Attention flows from awareness when in that awareness there is no choice, no personal choosing, no experiencing … but merely observing. And to observe you must have in the mind a great deal of space. A mind that is caught in ambition, greed, envy, in the pursuit of pleasure and self-fulfillment, with its inevitable sorrow, pain, despair, anguish, such a mind has no space in which to observe, to attend. It is crowded with its own desires, going round and round in its own backwaters of reaction. You cannot attend if your mind is not highly sensitive, sharp, reasonable, logical, sane, healthy, without the slightest shadow of neuroticism. The mind has to explore every corner of itself, leaving no spot uncovered, because if there is a single dark corner of one’s mind which one is afraid to explore, from that springs illusion …
It is only in the state of attention that you can be a light unto yourself, and then every action of your daily life springs from that light – every action – whether you are doing your job, cooking, going for a walk, mending clothes, or what you will. This whole process is meditation …"
J. Krishnamurti
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Relaxed Power
Things have been settling down after the activity around Sonny's passing. There will be more on his teachings, to be sure, but in the meantime other ideas come up. The following is a response I wrote to a student who sent a Systema video. I thought it might be of interest to others.
- Jeff
* * * * * * *
Systema is controversial in some circles, and I'm not sure about some of their techniques, but in general I like their theories, which are similar to concepts I've learned through other arts (Aikido, Escrima, Tai Chi). Like Chinese Drunken Boxing, effective strikes are hidden within natural movements.
There are ways to develop the kind of relaxed hitting power they talk about through other arts too. You can develop this with the escrima stick, letting power flow from the ground, through the body, and out to the point of impact. Think of a chop hitting with dead-weight into a target, or slashing through as though nothing blocked its path. Power has to extend all the way to the end of your weapon to fully release into the target.
Another good exercise for heavy hands is hitting a sandbag with relaxed power, just learning a "dead hit". Keeping the hand relaxed and just dropping the strike, do these: punch, chop (blade of hand), palm slaps, back hand slaps. Start with 5/day of each strike, each hand. If you get tingling, stop for the day. Don't build energy too fast; it's not healthy. Be patient, be consistent. Increase slowly as you feel comfortable. You can add other strikes later such as fingertips, elbows, etc.
Once you can hit relaxed, then you can focus it deeper, lighter, etc. When I did Kenpo, we learned in sparring to just hit to the surface of our partner, letting the hand relax on contact, and we'd practice that on the bag too. Deepening a blow came naturally from learning to focus the energy at the end of the hit. It goes back to that old idea of "a rock on the end of a rope." Karate visualizes the strike 1-3 inches inside the body so the energy of the blow is focused internally. With a stick, you can do a fast, powerful move and touch lightly to train, but it's the same movement and dynamics as when you finish the blow for real. It's just a matter of intention in adjusting those last few inches.
Don't think about a lot of different areas when first hitting the bag, just be consistent and accurate to one spot at a time. Doing that will make specific targetting much more effective later, because any blow can have an effect when focused at the right time and place. First get the mind/body connection to work smoothly, then refine objectives.
The problem a lot of people have is they tighten up, which literally pulls the energy up, where it often gets stuck in the shoulders rather than released through the rest of the strike delivery. The point is, and the Systema video says this, is that you have to hit things in training. A heavy bag is good because it absorbs energy similar to a body. The power is both felt and heard.
The video talks of dynamic tension, which is good, as they said, for strengthening connective tissue. That means tendons, ligaments, joint cartilege, fascia. Static positions should isolate power at the end of a blow while movement integrates the body along lines of force. It's important to be able to move between soft and hard, using what is best at different times for speed vs. power.
Stepping into you blows can develop the foot/hand timing and balance. It doesn't have to be a big step; in fact, a tiny shuffle will be less upsetting to the balance. Again, the important thing is balance and alignment at point of impact and knowing how to get all that to work optimally. Eventually it can be a subtle movement or shift, and feeling it is the source of power in your movement.
All this in a single word - control.
- Jeff
* * * * * * *
Systema is controversial in some circles, and I'm not sure about some of their techniques, but in general I like their theories, which are similar to concepts I've learned through other arts (Aikido, Escrima, Tai Chi). Like Chinese Drunken Boxing, effective strikes are hidden within natural movements.
There are ways to develop the kind of relaxed hitting power they talk about through other arts too. You can develop this with the escrima stick, letting power flow from the ground, through the body, and out to the point of impact. Think of a chop hitting with dead-weight into a target, or slashing through as though nothing blocked its path. Power has to extend all the way to the end of your weapon to fully release into the target.
Another good exercise for heavy hands is hitting a sandbag with relaxed power, just learning a "dead hit". Keeping the hand relaxed and just dropping the strike, do these: punch, chop (blade of hand), palm slaps, back hand slaps. Start with 5/day of each strike, each hand. If you get tingling, stop for the day. Don't build energy too fast; it's not healthy. Be patient, be consistent. Increase slowly as you feel comfortable. You can add other strikes later such as fingertips, elbows, etc.
Once you can hit relaxed, then you can focus it deeper, lighter, etc. When I did Kenpo, we learned in sparring to just hit to the surface of our partner, letting the hand relax on contact, and we'd practice that on the bag too. Deepening a blow came naturally from learning to focus the energy at the end of the hit. It goes back to that old idea of "a rock on the end of a rope." Karate visualizes the strike 1-3 inches inside the body so the energy of the blow is focused internally. With a stick, you can do a fast, powerful move and touch lightly to train, but it's the same movement and dynamics as when you finish the blow for real. It's just a matter of intention in adjusting those last few inches.
Don't think about a lot of different areas when first hitting the bag, just be consistent and accurate to one spot at a time. Doing that will make specific targetting much more effective later, because any blow can have an effect when focused at the right time and place. First get the mind/body connection to work smoothly, then refine objectives.
The problem a lot of people have is they tighten up, which literally pulls the energy up, where it often gets stuck in the shoulders rather than released through the rest of the strike delivery. The point is, and the Systema video says this, is that you have to hit things in training. A heavy bag is good because it absorbs energy similar to a body. The power is both felt and heard.
The video talks of dynamic tension, which is good, as they said, for strengthening connective tissue. That means tendons, ligaments, joint cartilege, fascia. Static positions should isolate power at the end of a blow while movement integrates the body along lines of force. It's important to be able to move between soft and hard, using what is best at different times for speed vs. power.
Stepping into you blows can develop the foot/hand timing and balance. It doesn't have to be a big step; in fact, a tiny shuffle will be less upsetting to the balance. Again, the important thing is balance and alignment at point of impact and knowing how to get all that to work optimally. Eventually it can be a subtle movement or shift, and feeling it is the source of power in your movement.
All this in a single word - control.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Weekend Calendar - Sept. 9-10
A reminder that I've posted an FMA events calendar on the right sidebar, with links to event information.
This weekend has three listings. On Saturday there is a Serrada seminar in Buena Park in Southern California and an Arnis Balite Seminar in Pleasanton, Ca. Sunday there is a USFMAF referee clinic in Stockton, Ca.
This weekend has three listings. On Saturday there is a Serrada seminar in Buena Park in Southern California and an Arnis Balite Seminar in Pleasanton, Ca. Sunday there is a USFMAF referee clinic in Stockton, Ca.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Events Calendar Added To Sidebar
Recently there's been an increase in notices for upcoming FMA events, so I've added a calendar to the Links section (on the right) for convenience. Events listed there can take you directly to the announcements. Check regularly for updates!
Monday, August 28, 2006
Sonny's Carvings
Most people have never had the chance to see Sonny's amazing carvings, so I linked some images through this webpage. The level of detail is astounding, and this is typical of the thousands of pieces he did, each one unique.
* I updated this entry the day after Sonny's memorial to include pictures of knives on display there.
* I updated this entry the day after Sonny's memorial to include pictures of knives on display there.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Arrangements for Sonny
Thanks to all who have expressed condolences at the passing of master Sonny Umpad.
Here are the arrangements for Sonny's memorial service, as per the the wishes of his childred Jackie and Brian:
Friday, September 1, 2006. Services will begin at 7:00 pm.
Wedgewood Banquet Center at Metropolitan Golf Links
10051 Doolittle Drive
Oakland, CA 94603
(510) 569-5556
An obituary has been placed in the Oakland Tribune Thursday, August 31st. There is a guestbook there so people can leave their thoughts and comments. This will be available through the end of September (unless a 1 year or permanent entry is purchased). I have also put a copy of the obituary here.
This evening Sonny's daughter Jackie informed me a short obituary notice did appear in the SF Chronicle. The guest book is the same one used by the Tribune, for those who wish to sign it.
Here are the arrangements for Sonny's memorial service, as per the the wishes of his childred Jackie and Brian:
Friday, September 1, 2006. Services will begin at 7:00 pm.
Wedgewood Banquet Center at Metropolitan Golf Links
10051 Doolittle Drive
Oakland, CA 94603
(510) 569-5556
An obituary has been placed in the Oakland Tribune Thursday, August 31st. There is a guestbook there so people can leave their thoughts and comments. This will be available through the end of September (unless a 1 year or permanent entry is purchased). I have also put a copy of the obituary here.
This evening Sonny's daughter Jackie informed me a short obituary notice did appear in the SF Chronicle. The guest book is the same one used by the Tribune, for those who wish to sign it.
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