Tags

  • Published on

    そのテストで、何が分かるのでしょうか？

    authentic original traditional wing chun Chi sao function before form Functional wing chun FWC詠春拳 ファンクショナル詠春拳

    写真1：別の可能性を検証する
    ボンサオを追って中心線を越える代わりに、フォクサオから直接パンチを出せるでしょうか？

    写真2：開始姿勢
    複雑な攻撃を試す前に、この位置から互いにまっすぐ打てないかを確認します。

    写真3：動画で示された攻撃
    左手を相手の左腕の外側に置き、同時に右腕を引いてパンチを準備する攻撃で、位置を確認しています。

    そのテストで、何が分かるのでしょうか？

    チーサオのローリング中、ある指導者が特定の攻撃の連係を使い、フックサオの高さを調整する理由を説明しています。その練習の中では、役立つ説明かもしれません。生徒は具体的な課題を与えられ、自分の対応を確かめることができるからです。

    ただし、「その指導者が選んだテストに対応できる位置」と、「どのような状況でも正しいとされる位置」は、分けて考える必要があります。

    今回取り上げているのは、あるローリングの練習と、そこで使われた特定の攻撃の連係です。手元の静止画像だけでは、相手がどこまで自由に動けたのか、別の攻撃に対してどう対応できたのか、その指導者がほかに何を教えているのかまでは分かりません。その人の実力や指導法全体を判断する根拠にはできません。

    それでも、この例をきっかけに考えられることはあります。一つのテストに、私たちの練習をどこまで方向づけさせるべきなのでしょうか。

    条件を絞ったテストには、指導上の役割があります。変化する要素を減らせば、課題が見えやすくなります。攻撃があらかじめ分かっていれば、初心者もすべてを同時に解決しようとせず、位置やタイミングを学べます。ただし、そのテストに成功して分かるのは、その条件で対応できたということです。条件が変わっても同じ対応が役立つとまでは言えません。

    私は、技はその目的に関係する、できるだけ多くの攻撃や圧力に対して確かめるべきだと考えています。慣れた連係だけでなく、より直接的な攻撃、角度や圧力の変化、移動、最初の動作で止まらず続いてくる攻撃も含めます。どこで役立ち、どこで調整が必要になり、どこで別の対応が必要になるのかを知るためです。

    テストは、まず最も分かりやすい攻撃から始めるべきです。その位置から、最も簡単に、最も少ない準備で、最も直接的に狙える攻撃は何でしょうか。開いているところを、そのまま突くことはできないでしょうか。特定の連係を使わずに攻撃できないでしょうか。そうした課題を確かめたうえで、より複雑な攻撃や連係へと範囲を広げていきます。

    ここでいう「速い攻撃」は、攻撃の経路や準備の少なさについての話です。初心者が最初から全速力で練習するという意味ではありません。直接的な攻撃も、なぜ通るのか、なぜ防げるのかを理解できる速さで確かめられます。

    複雑な攻撃によって、役立つ細部が見つかることもあります。ただ、その場ですでに可能な、もっと単純な攻撃を見落としてはいけません。ある位置の正しさを特定の連係で説明するなら、その連係を使わない相手に対してどう働くのかも確かめる必要があります。

    初心者に何でも一度に対応させる必要はありません。課題を明確にし、意味のある変化を一つずつ加えていきます。抵抗は、身につけたい働きと結びついていなければなりません。慣れたテストを難しくしても、それだけで確かめられる範囲が広がったり、目的に近づいたりするわけではありません。

    FWCでは、その位置が自分を守り、進路を開き、必要に応じて次の行動につなげる助けになるかを確かめます。私たちが好む位置や練習方法も、同じように検証しなければなりません。「機能的」と名乗るだけでは、何も証明できません。

    指導者が実演で成功しても、もう一つの問いは残ります。生徒はその技能を学び、異なる相手に対して、少しずつ予測しにくくなる条件の中でも使えるようになるでしょうか。生徒が苦戦するなら、生徒の出来だけでなく、説明、練習の段階づけ、テストの内容も見直す必要があります。

    役立つ限定的なテストは、何が分かり、何までは分からないのかを明確にします。そこから「あらゆる状況で正しい」という結論へ広げてしまうと、そのテストで確かめた範囲を超えてしまいます。

    生徒が私たちのテストに上手に合格できるようになったとき、そのテストの外では、実際に何ができるようになるのでしょうか。


    ENGLISH VERSION

    What Does Your Test Actually Prove?

    A teacher uses a particular attack sequence during Chi Sao rolling to explain why students should adjust the height of their fook sao—the contacting arm position. Within that exercise, the explanation may be useful: it gives students a specific problem and a way to examine their response.

    But we need to distinguish between a position that answers one teacher’s chosen test and a position presented as universally correct.

    The example under discussion concerns a particular rolling exercise and a particular attack sequence. The available still images cannot establish how freely the partners could respond, how the movement performed against other attacks, or what the teacher teaches elsewhere. They do not justify a judgment about the teacher’s overall ability or method.

    They do, however, give us a useful question to examine: how much should any one test determine the way we train?

    A narrow test has a legitimate teaching role. Removing variables can make a problem easier to see. A known attack lets a beginner explore position and timing without having to solve everything at once. Passing that test tells us something about performance under those conditions. It does not establish that the same answer will remain useful when those conditions change.

    My view is that we should test a technique against as many relevant attacks and pressures as possible. That includes responses outside our familiar sequences: a more direct attack, a change of angle or pressure, movement, or an attempt to continue after the first action. The purpose is to discover where the technique helps, where it needs adapting, and where another response is needed.

    Testing should begin with the most obvious attacks: the easiest, quickest, most direct ways the partner could reach the target from that position. Can they simply punch through the opening? Can they attack without first performing a particular sequence? Once those problems have been examined, we can expand toward more complicated attacks and combinations.

    Here, “quickest” describes the attack’s route and preparation—not the speed at which beginners must practise. We can test a direct attack slowly enough to understand why it succeeds or fails.

    A more elaborate attack may expose a useful detail, but it should not distract us from a simpler attack that is already available. If a position is justified by one particular sequence, we should also ask how it performs against someone who does not follow that sequence.

    This does not mean overwhelming beginners. Start with a clear task, then introduce one meaningful change. Resistance must remain connected to the function being trained. Making a familiar test harder does not necessarily make it broader or more relevant.

    In FWC, we ask whether our position helps us protect ourselves, create a usable path, and continue when necessary. Our preferred positions and exercises must face the same scrutiny. Calling a method “functional” proves nothing by itself.

    A teacher’s successful demonstration also leaves a separate question unanswered: can students learn the skill and use it with different partners under progressively less predictable conditions? If they struggle, the explanation, progression, and test deserve examination alongside the students’ performance.

    A useful narrow test makes its limits clear. A misleading universal claim asks that test to prove more than it examines.

    If students become excellent at passing our test, what will they actually become better at doing beyond it?

  • Published on

    Why “Correct Form” Fails to Function

    Chi sao correct form? FWC Kungfu lineage Wing chun
    Wing chun teacher doing pak sao and punch at J's gym shinmaruko

     Why “Correct Form” Fails to Function

    Testing technique through purpose and meaningful resistance

    Form matters. But form alone does not prove correctness. Unless a technique has a defined purpose, we cannot decide what its form should be judged against—or what should count as success.

    Before Form, Ask: “What Problem Does It Solve?”


    The same technique can look different from one teacher or lineage to another. The elbow angle, hand position, or direction of the feet may vary. It is natural to ask which version is correct. But appearance alone cannot answer that question. We must first define the problem the technique is meant to solve.

    An arm movement might be intended to redirect an incoming line, open a path for our body, or protect our structure. Each purpose may require a different direction, timing, and use of force. A shape that works well for one purpose may be unsuitable for another. Without a defined objective, we can compare appearances—but not function.

    FWC does not treat form as unimportant. Form is a valuable tool for learning how the body can be used. But form is not the answer itself. It is a working hypothesis: a possible solution that must be tested under relevant conditions.


    Once the Purpose Is Defined, the Technique Can Be Tested

    A meaningful test becomes possible only after the objective is clear. If the purpose is to deal with an attack while closing distance safely and creating a continuation, the test should examine whether:

    •  the attack was redirected or its path was limited

    •  balance and structure were maintained

    •  the body could move forward rather than leaving the arm to work alone

    •  the action could continue without stopping and resetting

    Resistance is not a competition designed to make the technique fail. It is information that makes the effect of the technique visible. We can begin slowly and limit the attack. Then we can gradually add choices of direction, changes in timing, greater speed, and continuing attacks. Resistance matched to the practitioner’s level reveals where the action functions and where it begins to break down.


    Copying “Correct-Looking Form” Is Not Enough

    I was recently teaching two advanced practitioners and saw this difference very clearly. Both knew the movement well. There was no obvious mistake in its appearance, and each reproduced my movement quite accurately. But when resistance was added, it did not work. The upper and lower body were not sufficiently connected, so the force created by the body did not reach the place where it was needed.

    I adjusted their body positions a little at a time. In some cases, I had to move them slightly away from the position that felt correct to them. Then the structure began to function. From a distance, the difference before and after the correction may have been almost invisible. Under resistance, however, it was unmistakable.

    The problem was not simply that they had copied the form badly. They had copied the appearance of a moment in which the problem seemed to have been solved, rather than the process that solved it. Function does not exist in a frozen position. It exists in the relationship with the opponent, direction, timing, body connection, and continuity into the next action.


    Is the Test Creating a Different Objective?

    Tests require care because they do more than measure ability: they also define what the student learns to improve. An immovable stance, legs that cannot be pulled apart, or arms that maintain their shape while being pushed in arbitrary directions can all produce clear results. They may appear to demonstrate strong structure. But success in the test is not necessarily success in the larger purpose of the system.

    If we reward not moving, the body becomes optimized for not moving. If we reward keeping the legs from being separated, preventing separation becomes an independent objective. If the arms are pressed from arbitrary directions, the student may become better at enduring pressure in place rather than reading an attack, opening a path, and changing position.

    This does not make such exercises automatically useless. They may help a student study connection or balance. But passing them does not, by itself, prove that a technique—or the system—functions. We should be able to explain what the test develops and how that ability serves the actual objective.


    Work Backward from the Overall Purpose of the System

    FWC is not an attempt to prove that we are stronger than the opponent. It is a method for influencing the situation when the conditions are unfavorable: reducing the opponent’s options and moving toward a better position. When evaluating a technique, we therefore return to four questions:

    •  What problem is this technique meant to solve?

    •  What must happen for us to call it successful?

    •  Against what resistance or uncertainty should it function?

    •  After it succeeds, what can we do next?

    When these questions are clear, differences in form do not have to be settled through authority or familiarity. We can test the action against its purpose, observe the result, and adjust the form when necessary. The method provides direction. The situation determines the route.

    Protect the Purpose, Not the Form


    When form is separated from purpose, it can easily become a symbol of correctness. But Wing Chun techniques are not poses to be displayed. They are tools for solving problems.


    Purpose gives form meaning, and resistance tests that meaning. We learn form, test it, and change it when necessary—not because form has no value, but because the purpose must not be lost. That is what it means to understand form through function in FWC. 

    Read PDF version

    Loading PDF...

  • Published on

    When a drill stops solving the problem

    Chi sao Functional wing chun FWC詠春拳 Ip man Self Defense Wing chun
    Image description

    When a Drill Stops Solving the Problem

    Every training drill should have a purpose.

    Not simply to look good.

    Not to preserve tradition.

    Not because it has always been done that way.

    A drill exists to develop a specific ability that supports the overall objective of the system.

    This raises an important question.


    What is the purpose of Chi Sao?

    FWC defines Chi Sao as the systematic study of continuing progress after contact has been established.

    Once we understand that objective, every Chi Sao drill can be evaluated using the same standard:

    Does this drill improve the ability to continue progressing against a resisting opponent after contact has been established?


    If the answer is yes, it deserves a place in training.

    If the answer is no, we should ask what it is actually developing.


    When Patterns Replace Problems

    Many modern Chi Sao systems rely heavily on fixed sequences and predetermined patterns.

    These patterns undoubtedly develop certain abilities. They improve coordination, familiarity with movement, timing with a cooperative partner, and the ability to remember increasingly complex combinations.

    However, they also change the nature of the drill.

    The moment the sequence becomes known, uncertainty begins to disappear.

    Instead of identifying obstacles, the student remembers what comes next.

    Instead of asking questions through contact, the student waits for the expected answer.

    Instead of adapting, the student recalls.

    Gradually, memory replaces decision-making.

    The original problem that Chi Sao was meant to solve begins to disappear.


    Does It Still Work Under Resistance?

    There is a simple question worth asking.

    What happens when the partner stops cooperating?

    Not by becoming aggressive or competitive, but simply by refusing to follow the pattern.

    In my own experience, this is where many fixed Chi Sao sequences begin to fall apart.

    The practitioner often has to abandon the memorized pattern and start solving the problem in real time.

    Ironically, this is exactly the skill the pattern was supposed to develop.

    The drill has prepared the student to remember a sequence, but not necessarily to adapt when the sequence no longer exists.


    Flow Is Not the Same as Function

    One reason these patterns remain enjoyable is that they create a wonderful feeling of flow.

    Two experienced partners can perform long, smooth exchanges with excellent rhythm and coordination.

    The experience is satisfying.

    But it is important to ask what is creating that feeling.

    The flow comes largely from shared expectation.

    Each partner already knows what is coming next.

    In that sense, the exchange becomes more like a rehearsed routine than a conversation with an unpredictable opponent.

    There is nothing wrong with practicing coordination.

    The mistake is believing that coordination alone develops the ability to deal with resistance.


    The Purpose of FWC Chi Sao

    FWC takes a different approach.

    Rather than memorizing increasingly complicated answers, we try to preserve the original problem.

    The student should still have to:

    • identify what is preventing progress,
    • make tactical decisions,
    • adapt to changing pressure,
    • continue moving forward,
    • and solve the problem without knowing exactly what will happen next.

    Complexity is reduced when necessary, but the problem itself is never removed.

    This is why FWC uses progressive resistance instead of progressive choreography.

    The objective is not to remember more.

    The objective is to become better at solving problems.


    Training Parts of the Whole

    Every drill in FWC has a specific job.

    Lap Sao introduces the objective of identifying, clearing, and continuing.

    Dan Chi Sao simplifies coordination when necessary without changing that objective.

    Rolling Chi Sao develops continuous information gathering and adaptation.

    Lat Sao bridges Chi Sao to striking under pressure.

    The wooden dummy becomes a laboratory where problems discovered through Chi Sao can be explored and refined before being tested again against resistance.

    Each drill trains part of the same engagement.

    None of them replace the engagement itself.


    Memory or Experience?

    Experience cannot be memorized.

    It must be earned.

    Every time a student encounters resistance, identifies an obstacle, experiments with a solution, and succeeds or fails, they gain experience that no fixed sequence can provide.

    This is why FWC places progressive resistance at the centre of training.

    Not because resistance makes training harder.

    Because resistance preserves the very problem Chi Sao was created to solve.


    Conclusion

    Chi Sao was never meant to become an exercise in remembering increasingly complicated patterns.

    Its purpose is far more practical.

    It exists to develop the ability to continue progressing after contact has been established.

    Whenever a training method replaces tactical decision-making with memorization, it risks losing the very quality that made Chi Sao valuable in the first place.

    For FWC, the question is always the same:

    Does this drill preserve the real problem?

    If it does, it deserves our time.

    If it does not, then no matter how elegant, complicated, or traditional it appears, it is training something other than the ability to solve a resisting opponent.

  • Published on

    Chi Sao: When a Drill Stops Solving the Problem

    Chi sao English few techniques are better Functional wing chun FWC Ip man Japan wing chun Leung Ting martial arts in Japan pressure testing
    Train Chi Sao with a purpose. In FWC, Chi Sao is the systematic study of continuing progress after contact has been established.

    When a Drill Stops Solving the Problem

    Every training drill should have a purpose.

    Not simply to look good.

    Not to preserve tradition.

    Not because it has always been done that way.

    A drill exists to develop a specific ability that supports the overall objective of the system.

    This raises an important question.


    What is the purpose of Chi Sao?


    FWC defines Chi Sao as the systematic study of continuing progress after contact has been established.

    Once we understand that objective, every Chi Sao drill can be evaluated using the same standard:

    Does this drill improve the ability to continue progressing against a resisting opponent after contact has been established?


    If the answer is yes, it deserves a place in training.

    If the answer is no, we should ask what it is actually developing.


    When Patterns Replace Problems


    Many modern Chi Sao systems rely heavily on fixed sequences and predetermined patterns.

    These patterns undoubtedly develop certain abilities. They improve coordination, familiarity with movement, timing with a cooperative partner, and the ability to remember increasingly complex combinations.

    However, they also change the nature of the drill.

    The moment the sequence becomes known, uncertainty begins to disappear.

    Instead of identifying obstacles, the student remembers what comes next.

    Instead of asking questions through contact, the student waits for the expected answer.

    Instead of adapting, the student recalls.

    Gradually, memory replaces decision-making.

    The original problem that Chi Sao was meant to solve begins to disappear.


    Does It Still Work Under Resistance?


    There is a simple question worth asking.

    What happens when the partner stops cooperating?

    Not by becoming aggressive or competitive, but simply by refusing to follow the pattern.

    In my own experience, this is where many fixed Chi Sao sequences begin to fall apart.

    The practitioner often has to abandon the memorized pattern and start solving the problem in real time.

    Ironically, this is exactly the skill the pattern was supposed to develop.

    The drill has prepared the student to remember a sequence, but not necessarily to adapt when the sequence no longer exists.


    Flow Is Not the Same as Function


    One reason these patterns remain enjoyable is that they create a wonderful feeling of flow.

    Two experienced partners can perform long, smooth exchanges with excellent rhythm and coordination.

    The experience is satisfying.

    But it is important to ask what is creating that feeling.

    The flow comes largely from shared expectation.

    Each partner already knows what is coming next.

    In that sense, the exchange becomes more like a rehearsed routine than a conversation with an unpredictable opponent.

    There is nothing wrong with practicing coordination.

    The mistake is believing that coordination alone develops the ability to deal with resistance.


    The Purpose of FWC Chi Sao


    FWC takes a different approach.

    Rather than memorizing increasingly complicated answers, we try to preserve the original problem.

    The student should still have to:

    • identify what is preventing progress,
    • make tactical decisions,
    • adapt to changing pressure,
    • continue moving forward,
    • and solve the problem without knowing exactly what will happen next.

    Complexity is reduced when necessary, but the problem itself is never removed.

    This is why FWC uses progressive resistance instead of progressive choreography.

    The objective is not to remember more.

    The objective is to become better at solving problems.


    Training Parts of the Whole


    Every drill in FWC has a specific job.

    Lap Sao introduces the objective of identifying, clearing, and continuing.

    Dan Chi Sao simplifies coordination when necessary without changing that objective.

    Rolling Chi Sao develops continuous information gathering and adaptation.

    Lat Sao bridges Chi Sao to striking under pressure.

    The wooden dummy becomes a laboratory where problems discovered through Chi Sao can be explored and refined before being tested again against resistance.

    Each drill trains part of the same engagement.

    None of them replace the engagement itself.


    Memory or Experience?


    Experience cannot be memorized.

    It must be earned.

    Every time a student encounters resistance, identifies an obstacle, experiments with a solution, and succeeds or fails, they gain experience that no fixed sequence can provide.

    This is why FWC places progressive resistance at the centre of training.

    Not because resistance makes training harder.

    Because resistance preserves the very problem Chi Sao was created to solve.


    Conclusion


    Chi Sao was never meant to become an exercise in remembering increasingly complicated patterns.

    Its purpose is far more practical.

    It exists to develop the ability to continue progressing after contact has been established.

    Whenever a training method replaces tactical decision-making with memorization, it risks losing the very quality that made Chi Sao valuable in the first place.


    For FWC, the question is always the same:

    Does this drill preserve the real problem?

    If it does, it deserves our time.

    If it does not, then no matter how elegant, complicated, or traditional it appears, it is training something other than the ability to solve a resisting opponent.