Principles of Tai Chi
Tai Chi is both a martial and a health art. Practice develops the skill of moving harmoniously while maintaining a calm perspective.
Tai Chi Chuan (being the formal name, meaning Tai Chi Boxing) is considered an internal style of martial arts, which means the primary emphasis is placed upon improving the health of the practitioner, above the pursuit of other objectives. Typically training is based upon sequences of slow, relaxed movements, with attention paid to the breath in order to harmonise body and mind.
Each movement may be referred to as a posture or form, hence the choreographed routine known as the 24-Forms is comprised of 24 key postures and the transitions that unite them.
Having said that, the notion that the routines are always practiced slowly is a bit of a misnomer – the foundation forms are almost exclusively comprised of slow movements, but over time the techniques become more dynamic. If you were to observe some of the advanced routines, you might think you were watching a Kung Fu performance.
Historically, training also includes partnered sensitivity and self-defence exercises, and more athletic and dynamic techniques. In modern times, and especially for the beginner practitioner, not much attention is devoted to the development of self-defence skills, but whether you emphasise one aspect or another will depend upon your own personal goals, the class format, and the lineage of the school you attend.
Almost irrespective of style, the core principles of Tai Chi practice are to minimize tension in the body; to learn to move smoothly and efficiently; to harmonise the physical movements with the breath and mind; and to increase vitality. And of course, to these ends clarity of intention is key.
But while these principles transcend style, it seems in almost every generation new interpretations of the techniques are discovered or created, and new styles of Tai Chi are born. And if you were to trawl through youtube, you would discover a wide range of skilled practitioners exhibiting a very sophisticated understanding of their art, while differing vastly in the way they execute techniques. So in the end, it seems to me there is no such thing as right or wrong techniques, instead all styles possess advantages and disadvantages in their own ways.
It matters little if your hand is open or closed, if one routine prescribes a punch where another prescribes a push; instead the quality of movement is key, and in broad terms, practice simply serves as a tool to move us towards an improved relationship with our own body. It need not be considered too heavily, or too seriously. All experiences are valid, and all training methods possess merit.
So what is important is that if you’re training, you’re practicing something that suits your temperament. And then when you work, you’ll be working at something that has the possibility to really be worthwhile.
Tai Chi Chuan (being the formal name, meaning Tai Chi Boxing) is considered an internal style of martial arts, which means the primary emphasis is placed upon improving the health of the practitioner, above the pursuit of other objectives. Typically training is based upon sequences of slow, relaxed movements, with attention paid to the breath in order to harmonise body and mind.
Each movement may be referred to as a posture or form, hence the choreographed routine known as the 24-Forms is comprised of 24 key postures and the transitions that unite them.
Having said that, the notion that the routines are always practiced slowly is a bit of a misnomer – the foundation forms are almost exclusively comprised of slow movements, but over time the techniques become more dynamic. If you were to observe some of the advanced routines, you might think you were watching a Kung Fu performance.
Historically, training also includes partnered sensitivity and self-defence exercises, and more athletic and dynamic techniques. In modern times, and especially for the beginner practitioner, not much attention is devoted to the development of self-defence skills, but whether you emphasise one aspect or another will depend upon your own personal goals, the class format, and the lineage of the school you attend.
Almost irrespective of style, the core principles of Tai Chi practice are to minimize tension in the body; to learn to move smoothly and efficiently; to harmonise the physical movements with the breath and mind; and to increase vitality. And of course, to these ends clarity of intention is key.
But while these principles transcend style, it seems in almost every generation new interpretations of the techniques are discovered or created, and new styles of Tai Chi are born. And if you were to trawl through youtube, you would discover a wide range of skilled practitioners exhibiting a very sophisticated understanding of their art, while differing vastly in the way they execute techniques. So in the end, it seems to me there is no such thing as right or wrong techniques, instead all styles possess advantages and disadvantages in their own ways.
It matters little if your hand is open or closed, if one routine prescribes a punch where another prescribes a push; instead the quality of movement is key, and in broad terms, practice simply serves as a tool to move us towards an improved relationship with our own body. It need not be considered too heavily, or too seriously. All experiences are valid, and all training methods possess merit.
So what is important is that if you’re training, you’re practicing something that suits your temperament. And then when you work, you’ll be working at something that has the possibility to really be worthwhile.
A Brief History of Tai Chi
Please bear with me; I have attempted to be concise, but hundreds of years of legend cannot easily be summarized.
But to begin at the beginning: there are two primary accounts as to the origin of Tai Chi.
The first concerns a Taoist Priest of Wudang Mountain, by the name of Zhang Sanfeng (or Chang San-Feng), who was born in the thirteenth century. He is said to have created a 72 movement form, which was the birth of Tai Chi Chuan. Widely traveled, he may have studied martial arts under many masters, and spent time at the Buddist temple of Shaolin.
The other account attributes the founding of Tai Chi to General Chen Wangting, who was born in the sixteenth century, and who resided in close proximity to Shaolin. As a military general, of course he would have received a very thorough education in the martial arts from a number of sources. Chen Wangting was the originator of the Chen Family Style of Tai Chi.
There are also various legends and rumours that other styles of Wushu may have influenced the development of Tai Chi. And of course, Tai Chi has had a significant influence upon other styles and methods too, but that is a subject for another time.
Whether the origin of Tai Chi can be attributed to a Taoist Priest or a military general may make little difference to the modern day practitioner, but what may be of note is this: traditionally Taoists were concerned with cultivating a long life and the quest for immortality, so they prioritised the health and longevity benefits of their physical and mental pursuits, whereas a military general most likely would have prioritised the combat effectiveness of his martial arts training.
Subsequently, evidence of these priorities can be seen today. Chen Style is considered to be more overtly militaristic; practitioners may be more focused on the self-defence and combat applications of their art. On the other hand, practitioners of the Taoist Style are typically more concerned with the development of robust health and vitality. Hence, whether Tai Chi is considered a health art or a martial art depends upon the lineage of the style you practice, as well as class format.
The Yang Family Style of Tai Chi is interesting, because it may intersect with both versions of the origin story – that of Chen Style and of Wudang Mountain. Yang Lu-Chan (born 1799) was the founder of the Yang Style, named for his surname. He was a student of the Chen Style, and he is also said to have studied the martial arts of Zhang Sanfeng, among others, and they say he tried to re-introduce some of the Taoist elements into the Chen family Tai Chi. And although both these martial arts could have been the subject of much study by Yang Lu-Chan, as to what techniques and concepts he learned from who, and how he combined them to create his own style – who can tell?
Of the modern era, and a youtube search will ratify this, the Yang Style appears remarkably similar to the Wudang or Taoist method. But when it comes to modern interpretations, how much influence went one way between the styles, and how much the other, I cannot say. This much is clear: the different versions of the forms are clearly interconnected and related. For me to say much more on the issue would amount to little more than speculation.
The choreography of the old Yang Style 108-Forms, is widely attributed to either Yang Lu-Chan or his grandson, Yang Chengfu. An impressive grandmaster, Yang Chengfu is famous for simplifying some of the more complicated techniques, and making Tai Chi accessible and easy to learn for large numbers of people. The modern popularity of Tai Chi owes a great deal to Yang Chengfu.
Something to bear in mind when discussing the history of the martial arts, is that if we are to assume the general stance – once upon a time people would have made a living from their combat skills, their ability to teach and to fight – then any perceived secrets, any special techniques would have been jealously guarded, and legends of heroic warriors would have quickly overshadowed other possibly more realistic accounts. This led to a certain rivalry that also has a long history, and so these days people often declare that their own style is the one true method, and all other variations are aberrant. In the context of this sort of history and culture, I understand the competitive mindset, but this all-too-common argument tends not to get us anywhere.
What I think is more likely true is this: an old master once said that even when you are practicing your Tai Chi perfectly, it will look quite different to the Tai Chi of your master, and so on. If we are to reflect upon the general sameness of human bodies, and also to think about how different individuals can be from one another, it is possible that any master taught any student the way that seemed best for that individual student. And if you as a practitioner reach a level of insight, you may find that you begin to practice differently, and you start to teach differently, and so multiple legitimate variations to a style are created, because in the end, we are not the same and it is useless for me to practice a style that is well suited to someone else, but not to my own unique needs.
In the end, it is easy to get caught up in the propaganda, the traditions, and lose sight of what is useful and practical for an individual. So of course, after relatively few generations of training and development, a plethora of different but related styles of Tai Chi now exist. I have trained in the modern Yang Style that trickled down from the teachings of Yang Chengfu and also the style of the small, fast form that is attributed to teachings of his brother, Yang Shao-hou. In addition to the Chen Style, the Taoist Style, the variations on the style of the Yang Family lineage, there are a number of other styles of Tai Chi in existence including Wu and Sun.
Cheng Man-Ching (1902 – 1975) was a famous master of more recent times, and is credited more or less with bringing Tai Chi to America. He was a student of Yang Chengfu, and he took the 108-Forms, which contained much repetition, and distilled it down to his 37-Forms, which has become an incredibly popular and widely practiced Yang Style routine, a little more accessible than the longer 108, but still with great depth and complexity. Man-Ching is also the author of a brilliant book on Tai Chi, The Thirteen Treatises, which is the best I have read on the subject. At first, it was too esoteric to make much sense to me, but the more I have practiced, the more rewarding and revealing it has become.
More recently, in 1956 a committee of masters was established, and their task was to further distil and simplify the traditional and complex routines into one that could easily and practically be taught to large groups of people. The idea was this: in order to make a country strong, the people must be made strong, and so the plan was to teach everyone Tai Chi, and in so doing empower a nation. Considering that Tai Chi was once taught only to family members and a very restricted, select group of individuals, this represented a truly significant shift. So in 1956, the popular Yang Style 24-Forms was created, sometimes referred to as the Beijing-24, which has since become one of the most widely practiced Tai Chi routines in the world.
And in honesty, the more I learn of the old small form, the more I admire the genius that went into the development of the 24-Forms. It contains the essence of Tai Chi, yet it is accessible and can be practiced by casual participants and dedicated students alike.
Since then, Tai Chi has grown in popularity and exposure, and other forms have been created by many groups and individuals. The 42-Forms was developed for use in international Tai Chi tournaments, so that people could compete with a more complicated and dynamic routine. It incorporates old, complex techniques from Yang style, and Chen, among others, and is a rewarding and challenging routine.
And this millennium Tai Chi has undergone even more developments. Wushu athletes now compete with their own choreographed routines, and special high-difficulty techniques have been introduced to add complexity and improved athleticism to the competitions. This move was more than a little controversial, as it is seen by many to detract from the essence of Tai Chi, but if we are to consider that today’s most commonly practiced forms were once very long, very complex, and more dynamic than what is usually seen today, introducing or re-introducing some more dynamic and challenging techniques is not, I think in any way a bad thing.
Martial arts must always remain adaptable, and I think ultimately, purity is a myth in the martial arts. Constantly we seem to be moving away from, or back towards, the essence of a thing, depending on what any one person considers to be of value. In the end, your Tai Chi will look different to the Tai Chi of your teacher, and this is not to be lamented, instead it should be celebrated. If your martial arts training is not adaptable, versatile, how can it be of substance?
But to begin at the beginning: there are two primary accounts as to the origin of Tai Chi.
The first concerns a Taoist Priest of Wudang Mountain, by the name of Zhang Sanfeng (or Chang San-Feng), who was born in the thirteenth century. He is said to have created a 72 movement form, which was the birth of Tai Chi Chuan. Widely traveled, he may have studied martial arts under many masters, and spent time at the Buddist temple of Shaolin.
The other account attributes the founding of Tai Chi to General Chen Wangting, who was born in the sixteenth century, and who resided in close proximity to Shaolin. As a military general, of course he would have received a very thorough education in the martial arts from a number of sources. Chen Wangting was the originator of the Chen Family Style of Tai Chi.
There are also various legends and rumours that other styles of Wushu may have influenced the development of Tai Chi. And of course, Tai Chi has had a significant influence upon other styles and methods too, but that is a subject for another time.
Whether the origin of Tai Chi can be attributed to a Taoist Priest or a military general may make little difference to the modern day practitioner, but what may be of note is this: traditionally Taoists were concerned with cultivating a long life and the quest for immortality, so they prioritised the health and longevity benefits of their physical and mental pursuits, whereas a military general most likely would have prioritised the combat effectiveness of his martial arts training.
Subsequently, evidence of these priorities can be seen today. Chen Style is considered to be more overtly militaristic; practitioners may be more focused on the self-defence and combat applications of their art. On the other hand, practitioners of the Taoist Style are typically more concerned with the development of robust health and vitality. Hence, whether Tai Chi is considered a health art or a martial art depends upon the lineage of the style you practice, as well as class format.
The Yang Family Style of Tai Chi is interesting, because it may intersect with both versions of the origin story – that of Chen Style and of Wudang Mountain. Yang Lu-Chan (born 1799) was the founder of the Yang Style, named for his surname. He was a student of the Chen Style, and he is also said to have studied the martial arts of Zhang Sanfeng, among others, and they say he tried to re-introduce some of the Taoist elements into the Chen family Tai Chi. And although both these martial arts could have been the subject of much study by Yang Lu-Chan, as to what techniques and concepts he learned from who, and how he combined them to create his own style – who can tell?
Of the modern era, and a youtube search will ratify this, the Yang Style appears remarkably similar to the Wudang or Taoist method. But when it comes to modern interpretations, how much influence went one way between the styles, and how much the other, I cannot say. This much is clear: the different versions of the forms are clearly interconnected and related. For me to say much more on the issue would amount to little more than speculation.
The choreography of the old Yang Style 108-Forms, is widely attributed to either Yang Lu-Chan or his grandson, Yang Chengfu. An impressive grandmaster, Yang Chengfu is famous for simplifying some of the more complicated techniques, and making Tai Chi accessible and easy to learn for large numbers of people. The modern popularity of Tai Chi owes a great deal to Yang Chengfu.
Something to bear in mind when discussing the history of the martial arts, is that if we are to assume the general stance – once upon a time people would have made a living from their combat skills, their ability to teach and to fight – then any perceived secrets, any special techniques would have been jealously guarded, and legends of heroic warriors would have quickly overshadowed other possibly more realistic accounts. This led to a certain rivalry that also has a long history, and so these days people often declare that their own style is the one true method, and all other variations are aberrant. In the context of this sort of history and culture, I understand the competitive mindset, but this all-too-common argument tends not to get us anywhere.
What I think is more likely true is this: an old master once said that even when you are practicing your Tai Chi perfectly, it will look quite different to the Tai Chi of your master, and so on. If we are to reflect upon the general sameness of human bodies, and also to think about how different individuals can be from one another, it is possible that any master taught any student the way that seemed best for that individual student. And if you as a practitioner reach a level of insight, you may find that you begin to practice differently, and you start to teach differently, and so multiple legitimate variations to a style are created, because in the end, we are not the same and it is useless for me to practice a style that is well suited to someone else, but not to my own unique needs.
In the end, it is easy to get caught up in the propaganda, the traditions, and lose sight of what is useful and practical for an individual. So of course, after relatively few generations of training and development, a plethora of different but related styles of Tai Chi now exist. I have trained in the modern Yang Style that trickled down from the teachings of Yang Chengfu and also the style of the small, fast form that is attributed to teachings of his brother, Yang Shao-hou. In addition to the Chen Style, the Taoist Style, the variations on the style of the Yang Family lineage, there are a number of other styles of Tai Chi in existence including Wu and Sun.
Cheng Man-Ching (1902 – 1975) was a famous master of more recent times, and is credited more or less with bringing Tai Chi to America. He was a student of Yang Chengfu, and he took the 108-Forms, which contained much repetition, and distilled it down to his 37-Forms, which has become an incredibly popular and widely practiced Yang Style routine, a little more accessible than the longer 108, but still with great depth and complexity. Man-Ching is also the author of a brilliant book on Tai Chi, The Thirteen Treatises, which is the best I have read on the subject. At first, it was too esoteric to make much sense to me, but the more I have practiced, the more rewarding and revealing it has become.
More recently, in 1956 a committee of masters was established, and their task was to further distil and simplify the traditional and complex routines into one that could easily and practically be taught to large groups of people. The idea was this: in order to make a country strong, the people must be made strong, and so the plan was to teach everyone Tai Chi, and in so doing empower a nation. Considering that Tai Chi was once taught only to family members and a very restricted, select group of individuals, this represented a truly significant shift. So in 1956, the popular Yang Style 24-Forms was created, sometimes referred to as the Beijing-24, which has since become one of the most widely practiced Tai Chi routines in the world.
And in honesty, the more I learn of the old small form, the more I admire the genius that went into the development of the 24-Forms. It contains the essence of Tai Chi, yet it is accessible and can be practiced by casual participants and dedicated students alike.
Since then, Tai Chi has grown in popularity and exposure, and other forms have been created by many groups and individuals. The 42-Forms was developed for use in international Tai Chi tournaments, so that people could compete with a more complicated and dynamic routine. It incorporates old, complex techniques from Yang style, and Chen, among others, and is a rewarding and challenging routine.
And this millennium Tai Chi has undergone even more developments. Wushu athletes now compete with their own choreographed routines, and special high-difficulty techniques have been introduced to add complexity and improved athleticism to the competitions. This move was more than a little controversial, as it is seen by many to detract from the essence of Tai Chi, but if we are to consider that today’s most commonly practiced forms were once very long, very complex, and more dynamic than what is usually seen today, introducing or re-introducing some more dynamic and challenging techniques is not, I think in any way a bad thing.
Martial arts must always remain adaptable, and I think ultimately, purity is a myth in the martial arts. Constantly we seem to be moving away from, or back towards, the essence of a thing, depending on what any one person considers to be of value. In the end, your Tai Chi will look different to the Tai Chi of your teacher, and this is not to be lamented, instead it should be celebrated. If your martial arts training is not adaptable, versatile, how can it be of substance?