Why the Critique against the Slow Tempo in ITF Patterns is Flawed

One critique levied against the ITF way of doing the Chang Hong patterns is that the rhythm imposed on the techniques by the sine wave motion has taken away the clustering of certain techniques that ought to—according to these critics—be performed as small combative units glued together by a more “realistic” (i.e. more rushed) tempo, as opposed to ITF Taekwon-Do's slow tempo.

The Korean word for a group of techniques that generally go together in a pattern is called “poom” (Hangeul:품; Hanja: 品).

An example will be helpful. Take the first series of movements in the pattern Won-Hyo: a twin forearm block, followed by a knife-hand inward strike, followed by a side punch. It is understood that these three moves are part of one combative sequence. Once one finishes movements #1-3, you turn about and repeat them on the other side (movements #4-6). So, movements #1-3 are one poom, movements #4-6 are another poom, and so on.

The little video above shows how I as an ITF practitioner* performs the initial two poom in Won-Hyo Teul. Notice the relatively slow tempo. You can see the full pattern performed by Alexandra Kan here, which I think is one of the best ITF performances of the pattern online at the moment.

It is believed that in the traditional way of performing the patterns one can know where pooms are by the tempo with which a set of techniques are performed together. Usually, such a cluster is performed together relatively fast, then there will be some pause or slowing down in the tempo, before the next cluster of techniques that form a poom are performed in a similarly hurried fashion.

The critique against the way ITF practitioners perform the patterns is that because most techniques are emphasized individually due to the sine wave motion, rather than obviously clustered together, practitioners don’t know where pooms start and finish and therefore lose important combative information, since each poom is understood to be a small combative encounter.

I disagree with this critique.

Poom need not be identified by a connected tempo. There are other ways of identifying a poom. First, they tend to be a sequence of techniques in one direction. For instance, in the Won-Hyo Teul example, we can easily identify movements #1-3 as one poom and movements #4-6 as a different poom because they are performed in a general direction. Second, rational deduction suggests that these moves go together, without the need of a tempo acting as an adhesive. In other words, we can look at a group of techniques, especially if they are clustered together in one direction as in the mentioned example, and then we can ask ourselves if they logically fit together, and if so we can deduce that they are part of a poom.

Those in favour of grouping movements together through a rushed tempo argues that the patterns should be realistic, like an actual fight, hence the poom should mimic the tempo of a real fight. I personally think this is a flawed understanding of the patterns, at least as they are understood in the ITF Taekwon-Do pedagogy, and several other martial arts such as Taichi Chuan. (Read more about this in the section about “Quick Movements vs Forceful Movements” in my post about the patterns and “Accelerated Body Mass”.)

The ITF patterns are not to be understood as complete fighting templates. First, the patterns are far too structures, far too rigid and angular, far too “formal” to be reflective of actual combat. The pooms are put together in unrealistic ways. One poom is followed by a 180 degree turn, then a 90 degree turn, and so on. The imagined attackers conveniently attack you one at a time from perpendicular angles. These are just some examples of how unnatural and how far removed the patterns are from real combative encounters. I disagree that the rhythm in patterns must be reflective of a real fight. Enforcing a “fighting” rhythm is just adding another arbitrary rhythm—real violence tends to be rather chaotic and often not rhythmic at all. Rather than becoming rushed and chaotic, the patterns are contemplative and structured. Consider for a moment how forms are practised in Taichi Chuan. The critique of unrealistic rhythm and speed is applied to Taichi Chuan only by the ignorant. Most martial artists have the insight to know that although Taichi Chuan forms are performed at such very slow speeds, that is not how Taichi Chuan practitioners actually fight. The slow moving forms teach certain principles of movement and a state of mind that are lost when the forms are rushed. Similarly, although ITF Taekwon-Do uses a relatively slow tempo for performing the patterns, it is also obviously not how practitioners are intended to fight and the slower tempo is purposeful—to teach certain principles of movement.

Deciding that certain techniques are part of a poom is useful, but forcing a tempo onto them to boundary movements into a poom is counter-productive. While it might give the practitioner a clear indication of where one poom starts and another ends, it is also limiting interpretation options. Many interesting pattern interpretations occur across pooms. A simple example is in Chonji Teul. Typically, it is understood that the first poom in Chonji Teul is movements #1 & 2: the walking stance low forearm block, followed by the walking stance middle punch. The next poom is the following two movements (movements #3 & 4), and so on. However, one interesting interpretation is to view movement #2 and #3 as part of an over-the-shoulder throw as illustrated below, from the book Taekwondo Grappling Techniques by Tony Kemerly & Steve Snyder.

From "Taekwondo Grappling Techniques", p. 65

This interpretation dissolves the arbitrary boundaries of the pooms. If one were to stick to the pooms based on how the tempo is performed by “old school” Taekwon-Do practitioners, one may miss this interpretation.

When the pooms are not fully fixed, the practitioner can start to play more with different possible combinations. In other words, sticking to preconceived ideas of poom is limiting and stifles creativity. When one does not enforce preconceived ideas of where a poom is supposed to start and finish, it frees one to find more pattern application interpretations.

The critique against the ITF way of performing the Chang Hon patterns, claiming that we lose the benefit of knowing where the pooms are, is invalid. An ITF practitioner can just as easily distinguish where the pooms are as people performing the patterns with poom-limited tempos. Furthermore, when ITF practitioners practise the pooms as drills (possibly in step-sparring or other dynamic context drills), they adjust the tempo of the techniques as needed. Practitioners already do this for sparring and self-defence: it is part of the incremental stages of (pre-arranged) sparring in the ITF technical pedagogy.

Finally, I think the slower tempo of the ITF patterns are actually contributing important skills and principles, which are lost when the patterns are rushed. Principles such as relaxation, body awareness and spacial awareness , and an understanding of the acceleration of body mass are only really learned at a slower, more contemplative tempo, rather than at a rushed, supposedly more realistic tempo. The more “realistic” training, I believe, is practised elsewhere in the system.


* Although I call myself an ITF practitioner, it is important to note that different ITF groups perform the patterns in slightly different ways. For instance, some practitioners de-emphasize the hip rotation, focusing on the vertical force generated by the sine wave motion. I personally apply both hip rotation and sine-wave motion (where appropriate) in my performance of the patterns. 


 

Quick Thoughts on Pattern Interpretation

On a Facebook-group that I belong to, there was recently a discussion with regards to pattern interpretation. It was pointed out that many Taekwondo grandmasters see the forms as nothing more than a combination of blocks-punches-kicks, and that we should not search for deeper or hidden applications in these forms.

I make no secret about it, that for me the primary function of the patterns in ITF Taekwon-Do is to teach certain principles of movement, and that they are not primarily templates for fighting.

However, I do hold the view that the patterns are artistic artifacts; i.e. works of art. If we believe the forms to be works of art then we must accept that they are open to interpretation as are all pieces of art.

The power of art lies not simply in their ability to communicate the artist's original intention, but more importantly, that art can resonate at an individual level with the audience so that each person engaging with good art should experience a unique encounter.

For me, I have always considered the patterns to be analogous to poems, and such a view of the forms have helped me gain wonderful insight into them.

Having said this, as with all artistic interpretation -- there is no single correct answer; however, there are some answers that are obviously wrong. Similarly with pattern interpretation, it is definitely possible to come up with alternative applications; however, some applications are obviously impractical and / or illogical. Sadly, I've seen all too many such nonsensical interpretations of movements in patterns.

It is nearly 2016, and I hope to share some good news soon about my studies. May you all have a blessed festive season and may 2016 be a phenomenal year.

My PhD Studies & the 5th International Symposium on Taekwondo Studies

Over the weekend of 9-10 May I had the privilege to attend the 5th International Symposium on Taekwondo Studies, sponsored by the WTF as a precursor to the 2015 WTF World Taekwondo Championships in Chelyabinsk, Russia, and organized by the International Associationfor Taekwondo Research, It was particularly heart-warming that at least three of the speakers at the event were ITF Taekwon-Do practitioners and scholars: myself, Dr George Vitale (who was a keynote speaker), and Dr John Johnson (who was one of the main organizers and master of ceremonies). The WTF Championships' opening ceremony also included an ITF Taekwon-Do demonstration. Later ITF and WTF practitioners demonstrated basic movements together -- a very symbolic act.

The reason for my attendance was to present a paper and a poster at the symposium that preceded the WTF World Champs. I represented the university where I work, and also Kyunghee University where I am currently enrolled into a PhD program.

My poster was concerned with the influences in martial art forms. I argued that understanding East Asian martial art forms as simply combat drills result in several problems. To solve these problems one have to consider other influences that contributed to the development of the forms, which include Daoyist exercises, folk dances and ritual practices, and East Asian conceptions of mind training through physical activity.

The paper I presented concerned another topic, namely pacifism and war ethics. The title is "The Paradoxical Pacifist Teachings of East Asian Martial Arts." Basically, East Asian martial arts admonish their members not to engage in fighting, or that the highest goal of martial art practise is not fighting. This is paradoxical since the core focus of martial art practise is combative techniques. I argued that the reason East Asian martial arts (as apposed to Western combat systems) teach combat avoidance is because they are based on the pacifist teachings of East Asian philosophies such as Taoism, Confucianism, Mohism and Buddhism. I furthermore continued to show ways in which this paradox can be overcome by means of normative ethics.

This paper is part of my research for my PhD dissertation, which I need to submit--God-willing--by October this year. I have finally completed all my coursework and a few weeks ago I wrote my comprehensive exam and obligatory foreign language exam. I'm thankful that I passed both, since nearly half of the attendees did not pass the comprehensive exam.

Unfortunately, because I'm so busy with work and studies, I'm not getting to write here as often here as I would like. For what it is worth, I have several writing topic ideas just waiting for an opportunity to be written.

The Value of Patterns (Part 2): Kinaesthetics (Part 3: Controlled Power)

This is the last post for the time being on the kinaesthetic value of the ITF patterns and was published in Issue #72 of Totally Tae Kwon Do Magazine.

In my previous discussion of the value of the ITF patterns I discussed the emphasis put on accelerating as much body mass as possible in order to achieve greater force. There is however a danger in over-zealously forceful techniques, which will be the discussion of this instalment.

ITF Taekwon-Do has an obsession with power generation. Fundamental Movements are often idealized techniques for generating tremendous amounts of force by accelerating as much body mass as possible in the direction of the technique, be it block, punch, strike or kick. Although generating force is the primary goal, it is trumped by keeping proper posture and maintaining balance. The ITF practitioner wants to generate as much force as possible, but without compromising posture and balance. Fundamental Movements, as practised in the patterns, are a way to practise powerful techniques; however, the power is curbed just enough to maintain good posture and balance.

A light-hearted video of a man zealously punching but missing the target,
leaving him in a potentially compromised position. 

Let’s look at some examples. Imagine punching a target, such as a punching bag, as hard as you possibly can. Now imagine doing the same, but just before your fist hits the punching bag, someone suddenly pulls the punching bag away. What is likely to happen? It is likely that the momentum of your punch will swing you off balance. Another example: consider doing a turning kick as hard as possible to kick “through” the target. Let’s say your target is again a punching bag and you kick it with all the force you can muster. And rather than snapping the leg out and back as you hit the target as is the common practise in Taekwon-Do, you instead drive through with all your body mass—in effect doing a Muay Thai style roundhouse kick. And again, just as you are about to land the kick, somebody moves the bag out of range; once more you are likely to be thrown off balance, the momentum of the kick probably pulling you around exposing your back.

A tutorial for the Muay Thai roundhouse kick.

The Fundamental Movements as practised in patterns teach us an important principle, that while power generation is very important, it should never happen at the expense of good posture and balance. The Muay Thai style turning is indeed more powerful than the Taekwon-Do turning kick because it has much more momentum and drive through than the snapped turning kick. However, the snapped turning kick with the reaction force of the arms that are pulled in the opposite direction maintains much better balance and posture, whereas the momentum of the Muay Thai roundhouse kick causes the practitioner to turn and expose his flank and back, resulting in compromised positioning.

Similarly, the over zealous punch also throws the practitioner off balance, whereas the traditional martial art punch that we practise in Taekwon-Do (and similar styles such as Karate) remains full facing, rather than over extend. Certainly doing a punch as a boxer that uses big rotational forces of both the hip and the shoulder would be much more powerful. Why then does Taekwon-Do and other traditional styles often only use hip rotation, rather than also full shoulder rotation, to punch? Why do we emphasize staying mostly full-facing during our punches, when pushing the shoulder forwardwould result in deeper penetration and more force? As I pointed out before, posture and balance trumps power.

Another example we notice in blocking techniques, which are generally in a half-facing posture. A further rotation of the hips into the full-facing position would usually make the block more powerful. Over-zealous blocking are nevertheless avoided, as the benefit of a slanted body angle which reveals less of the body’s surface area and vital points outweighs the possible benefit or more hip rotation that would increase the power of the block. The Fundamental Movements as practised in the patterns teach us that the benefit of more power does not surpass exposing more vital spots.

Instead of increasing the power through over-exaggerated rotational power that may expose vital points, we attempt to increase power through dropping the body weight into the technique in the form of the sine wave motion, where appropriate. (Not all techniques benefit from sine wave motion body-dropping, but a great number of techniques do.)

Why is it that a martial art like ITF Taekwon-Do that is so obsessed with powerful techniques would so often curb its Fundamental Movements in order to maintain good posture, positioning and balance; while other styles like modern western boxing and Muay Thai throw all they have into some of their techniques? The answer is most likely to be found in Taekwon-Do’s original purpose as a system aimed at self-defence, rather than a martial sport. An over-zealous swinging punch in boxing or a big Muay Thai roundhouse kick that spins you around exposing your back to your opponent is a risk worth taking in a sport context. If the technique lands it may knock out your competitor and cause you to be the victor. If the technique misses, you may expose your back to your opponent or lose your balance and fall; however, that is a risk a competitor may be willing to take. Tournament rules prohibit lethal attacks to the back of the head or spine or kicking a fallen opponent, and there is also a centre referee who will look out for your well-being. Even in UFC, known for its brutal and high intensity tournament fighting that is often touted as “no holds barred,” strikes to the spine and back of the head or attacking the head of a downed opponent is illegal. While there is a risk in using over-zealously powerful techniques that may compromise your posture and balance, it is a risk often worth taking by martial sport practitioners because in a sport context it is nearly never a lethal risk and such techniques have the potential to ensure a victory.

However, in a martial art concerned with self-defence such over-zealous techniques that compromise balance and posture are particularly avoided. In a self-defence (i.e. life-or-death) situation, the last thing you want to do is to allow your attacker access to your back, or find yourself on the floor if it could be avoided. Traditional martial arts are therefore often conservative with regards to their Fundamental Movements when it comes to posture and balance.

Taekwon-Do is known for many “flashy” techniques. While such techniques are often encouraged in sport settings, the Fundamental Movements as practised in the patterns are by contrast very conservative. The patterns contain almost no risky, flashy techniques. In the patterns the practitioner is encouraged to practise power generation, but always in a controlled way, so as not to compromise posture and balance.


Further reading:

See also my article "Taekwon-Do Kick versus Muay Thai Roundhouse Kick" and Dan Djurdjevic's article on why traditional martial arts tend to stop their techniques at predetermined points.

ITF Patterns: Artistic Expression or Self-Defence? -- Neither

Recently there was a poll on a Taekwon-Do Facebook group that I belong to that asked whether or not practitioners view the ITF (Chang Hon) patterns to be more involved with “artistic expression” or more to do with “self-defence skills”. When I responded that it has more to do with combat than creative expression, some members were quite surprised. After all, I have argued both here on my blog and in print that I do not believe that the ITF patterns are combative manuals. I have also claimed that the ITF patterns were indeed composed with certain aesthetic principles in mind, and even that parts of it have symbolic value, not solely combative value. Since people found my answer to the poll surprising, I explained my position there, and decided now to post my explanation with some amendments below:

With regards to the patterns being “artistic expressions,” I do not believe the performance of the ITF patterns is like a dance performance. Firstly, during dancing the purpose of dancing is in fact dancing, while for the patterns, their purpose is not “performance.” Some people may indeed practise the patterns only for performing them at competitions, but the patterns were not composed for the purpose of competition. A sport focus is something that only came in much later and is a secondary or peripheral usage of the patterns.

Rather, the patterns function as one of several aspects in the ITF pedagogy that teach particular skills. In other words, the patterns function as a type of drill—as a training tool to teach particular skills, of which the ultimate aim is self-defence. (Note, I’m not saying the patterns are self-defence skills; instead they add to the skill set that can contribute towards self-defence.)

Secondly, in the case of dance, dancers usually have lots of artistic freedom to creatively express themselves. This is not the case for the ITF patterns. They have a very specific number of motions, and require a specific way of movement. The patterns are artistic expressions, but only in a limited way for the performers. Instead, they are the artistic expression of their author(s)—or to use dance terminology, their choreographer(s), which in this case is General Choi and his helpers that composed the Chang-Hon patterns. When we perform the patterns, we are in a manner of speaking merely repeating the motions prescribed to us by a choreographer. Or to use poetry as an example, we are merely reciting poems of a great poet; we are not the poets ourselves. I don’t think the patterns lend themselves that much to personal artistic expression. Of course, someone reciting a poem can in a limited way creatively express him or herself through, for instance, vocal inflections, dramatic pauses, word stresses, and so on. Similarly, one can have some creative expression in the ITF patterns, but they are limited. Someone reciting a poem is not composing it, but merely repeating it. This is the same for performing the patterns. There are other Taekwondo groups who do what is known as “creative forms” that may indeed cross over into personal composition; however, ITF Taekwon-Do does not have this as part of its pedagogy or competitions. (ITF Taekwon-Do does have a self-defence demonstration category at championships, which may relate to this idea of creative expression, but which I will leave for another discussion.)

Other drills, such as one-step sparring, allow for much more personal artistic expression. There is not much room (i.e. freedom) for creativity while performing the Chang-Hon patterns. I’m much more creative while doing sparring.

The following is a paragraph from a related article of mine that was published in Totally Tae Kwon Do: “Dr. Bruce D. Clayton argues in his book Shotokan's Secret that: “Karate kata are combatives manuals, which contain no poetry” and that the kata are without “symbolism” (p. 197). This is definitely not the case for the ITF patterns. While I am convinced that there is much we can learn about ways of moving (kinaesthetics) and even some fighting strategies and self-defence application, the ITF patterns offer another, albeit less tangible, contribution—in that the patterns do indeed contain poetry and symbolism, and are used as a vehicle for the transmittal of Oriental philosophical principles, and Korean history and culture. They are also to be understood as mediums for artistic expression.”

Unlike Karate’s kata which are “combatives manuals” and wholly without “symbolism,” according to Dr Clayton, it is undeniable that the Chang-Hon Taekwon-Do Tul do indeed have symbolism and that certain aesthetic elements were considered in their composition. The floor plan of a number of the patterns are based on Chinese characters, for instance; and some patterns have symbolic starting or ending positions. In this way, the Chang-Hon patterns are like poetic compositions. They were designed with aesthetic concepts, such as symbolic meaning, in mind.

I’m getting the sense that some people feel uncomfortable with that idea, as if the inclusion of aesthetic concepts such as symbolism somehow distract from the patterns. That is a faulty understanding of what a symbol is. For example, a red rose has the symbolic meaning of romantic love. The fact that the rose symbolizes romantic love doesn’t make it any less a rose. “A rose is a rose is a rose.” The fact that a punch with a left fist at the end of a Chang-Hon pattern symbolizes tragedy doesn’t mean that it does not still function as a punch. Yes, the patterns are poetry that include symbolism, but the “vocabulary” of the patterns remain offensive and defensive techniques. “A punch is a punch is a punch,” to reference Bruce Lee. In other words: a punch may be more than a punch—it may be a punch that symbolise something abstract such as tragedy—but in the end it is still a punch.

Furthermore, understanding the patterns as poetry, rather than combative manuals, allow us interpretive freedom. A manual is specific with usually just one result. When you follow the instruction manual for putting a table together, there is no room for interpretation of the instructions. You have to follow the instructions in only one way, otherwise your table will not be stable. On the other hand, a poem is open to interpretation. Different people can come to different possible “answers” when interpreting a poem. Some answers are more plausible than others, but seldom is there only one ultimate answer. When we look at patterns and deduce self-defence applications from them, we are busy with poetic interpretation. In other words, people like Stuart Anslow that explicate particular self-defence applications from certain parts of the Chang-Hon patterns are busy with interpretation—not unlike one would interpret a line from a poem—rather than simply taking the obvious application from the ITF Encyclopaedia, which would be a following-an-instruction-manual approach. 

To summarise, when I say that the patterns are not combative manuals and therefore not fully developed self-defence “lessons,” and when I mention that the patterns do have creative and symbolic value, I do not by this mean that the patterns have no eventual combative value, nor that they are akin to dance performances. Taekwon-Do defines itself as the “Korean Art of Self-Defence”—and so ultimately all parts of the Taekwon-Do pedagogy contributes towards the goal of self-defence. The patterns are merely one of several tools in the ITF pedagogy that contributes towards self-defence skill. Understanding that they are a tool that contribute to a self-defence skill set, rather than actual self-defence practise, provide us with three important realizations: Firstly, we can acknowledge that the patterns are not realistic representations of a real combative encounter. Secondly, now that we are not under the dangerous illusion that we are somehow engaged in real fighting, we can safely use the patterns as a training tool to practise certain skills for which the patterns are ideally suited, like kinaesthetics. And finally, acknowledging that the patterns are “poetry in motion,” we have the freedom to interpret them for different purposes. For example, some parts of a pattern might be used to practise certain skills as part of a dynamic context drill, or as the catalyst for a self-defence drill, or for practicing specific footwork. In other words, the patterns provide material for training different skills.

What Was Ahn Joong-Gun's Age at His Death?

Me at the Ahn Joong-Gun Memorial Museum
in Seoul, South Korea, in 2009.

Recently I received a question from a Taekwon-Do friend, Markus Wittebo, from the Swedish Taekwon-Do Federation in Gottenburg:

The Taekwon-Do pattern Joong-Gun has 32 movements and is named after the patriot Ahn Joong-Gun, who was born on 16 July 1879 and died by execution on March 26, 1910. That means that he was 30 years old at the time of his death. However, the description of the pattern Joong-Gun states the following: “There are 32 movements in this pattern to represent Mr. Ahn’s age when he was executed at Lui-Shung prison (1910).” How is this to be explained? 

Was General Choi Hong Hi, who composed the pattern definitions, wrong about Ahn Joong-Gun's age? In this short essay I will explain why Ahn Joong-Gun was both 30 years old and 32 years old at the time he died.

There is no question that Ahn Joong-Gun was indeed 30 years old when he was executed for the assassin of the samurai Prince Itō Hirobumi, who was the Japanese Resident-General of Korea. Ahn Joon-Gun was born in 1879 and died in 1910 over three months before his 31st birthday—making him 30 years when he died. How then can the ITF Taekwon-Do Encyclopaedia claim that the reason the pattern Joong-Gun has 32 movements is in honour of Ahn Joong-Gun's age when he was executed? The answer is that in Korea there is a different way of calculating one's age.

The first important thing to know is that Koreans count the gestation period when calculating ones age, and so according to Korean custom a baby is already considered to be one year old at birth. So during the first year of a baby's life, it is considered one sal (살) and an additional sal is counted for every extra year of life. This is different from the international way of reckoning one's age where one is only considered to be one year old after your first birthday. Keeping this in mind, then Ahn Joong-Gun was 30 years, plus one sal by 1910, when he passed away.

There is another interesting aspect of Korean culture in that all Koreans increase one year in age on “Ibchun” (입춘) the beginning of spring and the start of the Lunar Calendar, which is usually around the beginning of February. In other words, Koreans do not wait for their actual birth date to add a year to their age; instead everyone ages at the same time at the start of the lunar new year. (On a side note, Koreans do celebrate their birthdays, but it is a memorial of their date of birth, rather than a memorial of becoming one year older. Furthermore, some Korean families celebrate their birthdays according to the lunar calendar, while others apply the solar calendar when deciding when to celebrate their birthdays.)

Therefore, even though Ahn Joong-Gun was 30 years old by Western reckoning at the time of his death, by Korean reckoning he would have been 31 (because Koreans add one year at birth), and since it was already after “Ibchun” when he died, he was said to be another year older, making him 32 years old according to Korean custom. Thus, stating that Ahn Joong-Gun passed away at the age of 32 makes sense within the Korean cultural context.

Below is a video of Alexandra Kan performing Joong-Gun Teul. 

What the Meditative Value in the ITF Patterns Is Not

I hope to continue my series on the value of the ITF patterns, and in my next installment in this series, I want to discuss the meditative value of the patterns. Most people that uncritically accept Oriental mysticism as part and parcel of the Oriental martial art package may not realize that such a discussion is anything but straightforward. As westerners (as I assume most of the readers of this blog are), we have no tradition of “meditation in motion,” as the patterns are sometimes described. Actually, the idea of meditation in its modern Oriental manifestation in the West is quite foreign—yes, the European, i.e. Christian tradition, has a history of meditation but what is meant by the word “meditation” is quite different.

I will address two issues in this post: first, the idea of meditation; and second, the role of the body in ascetic (spiritual) practise. I’m going to make some sweeping statements, purely because I do not have the time to go into a very detailed discussion and elaboration of the philosophical, historical and cultural aspects involved.

The Idea of Meditation in the West and East

What is typically considered meditation in the Oriental versus meditation in the West is rather different. Western meditation is much better understood as either prayer on the one hand or contemplation on the other. In both cases the mind is occupied with thought, with only occasional moments of silence in order to “hear” the impressions of the Holy Spirit. In the past when Christians said they meditated, they meant that they were praying or they were “meditating upon God’s Word,” meaning that they were reading a part of Scripture, and contemplating the spiritual significance of the text. Even when the meditation was not on sacred topics, like Newton meditating on the effects of gravity, the term “meditation” was used to signify being in deep thought.

Historically the Western world did not have the type of meditation—of clearing the mind of thoughts—as is so popular today. While the theistic Western idea of meditation was historically to commune with a personal God, the Oriental tradition, including the Buddhist tradition, was pantheistic, with no personal God to communicate with. Communicating with a personal God through prayer and meditation would not have made sense to the Oriental cultures. Since within the ancient Oriental paradigm there did not exist a personal supreme God, but rather a pantheistic impersonal Force (with concepts such as the impersonal Tao or impersonal Chi), prayer doesn’t make sense. The Far Eastern cultures may have prayed to their (personal) ancestors, but they didn’t pray to any personal God, and they didn’t pray or even really meditate upon (prayerfully contemplate) the Tao or Ki. They may have contemplated these topics, but not in a sanctimonious way as the Christian may contemplate the words of Jesus, or Protestants may contemplate the Crucified and Risen Christ or Catholics the Eucharist. For Christians, these are acts of worship. When the Chinese Taoists contemplated the Tao, they did not worship the Tao. They may have worshipped their ancestors and built alters and made offerings to their ancestors (keeping in mind that even this differs in purpose from the Western Christian concept of worship), but not to the impersonal Tao, even though it was their major world-view. The same applies to their approach to the Ki.

The Oriental approach to such concepts as the Tao or Ki was very much a practical approach, similar to the way Western societies approached the natural sciences. The Oriental practise of certain movements and meditation to cultivate Ki had a practical purpose—it was believed that the cultivation of Ki could extend one’s life. In fact, Taoist monks believed that through the practise of Qiqong and studying the Tao they could attain immortality—not immortality in the world to come, as Christians believe, but immortality in this present world—or at least extend their life spans in this current world.

In ancient China there existed two traditions of what we may call “meditation in motion” and which functioned as the precursors to modern day martial art forms or patterns. The Wudang tradition had Taoist monks training in certain motions to cultivate Ki. Originally, Ki exercises (Qigong) had nothing to do with martial arts. The other tradition was that of the Shaolin monks who also practised a type of forms for meditative purposes. Anyone familiar with the legends of the Oriental martial arts would have heard of the Indian Buddhist monk Boddhidharma teaching his Chinese Buddhist monks certain poses to increase the physical strength and so increase their ability to meditate. Coming from India, the poses he taught them were most certainly yoga poses, and not—as is commonly interpreted—martial art techniques. The Indian yogis use yoga poses as part of their meditation practise. The purpose of such meditation, in the Hindu and Buddhist tradition, is to reach Nirvana, by disconnecting with the present world, in order to transcend into a higher plain of consciousness.

The Role of the Body in Oriental Spiritual Practise

The Hindu and Buddhist tradition viewed the body dualistically. The body is merely a shell hosting the soul which transmigrates from one body upon death to a new body in an endless cycle of reincarnation until Nirvana is reached. The body was often viewed as a prison or hindrance—although a necessary one to work through one’s karma. In the Hindu tradition ascetic practitioners (yogi) would sometimes torture themselves by going through gruelling self-mastery, which may include self-mutilation, many hours of meditation in extreme physical positions (obscure yoga postures), fasting, and so on. The Buddhist tradition was less extreme, but still required thousands of hours of meditation. And as the Shaolin legend goes, in order to endure such excruciation meditation, strenuous exercise was necessary to strengthen their bodies. The true goal, however, was never the body—but the spirit, never this temporary life, but ultimate Nirvana.

The Wudang tradition was different in that it didn’t view the body dualistically. For the Taoist there was only one life, the present one. Their goal was therefore not to purge the soul of bad karma, but merely to extend the current life by cultivating life-giving Ki and by harmonizing with the Tao which would lead to a comfortable life. The purpose was more a practical one than a genuine ascetically spiritual one.

The problem with trying to interpret the ITF patterns as a tool for meditation is firstly that there is no clear line with either the Taoist Wudang tradition, as is the case with Tai-Chi Chuan, or with the Bud-dhist Shaolin tradition, as is the case with Shaolin kungfu. Neither does Taekwon-Do have the same goals as the Taoist Wudang monks or the Buddhist Shaolin monks. Taekwon-Do is purposely non-religious—a point specifically mentioned in the ITF Taekwon-Do Encyclopaedia. Furthermore, the principle founder of Taekwon-Do, General Choi Hong-Hi was very clear how he understood meditation in Taekwon-Do to be. He clearly stated that mediation in Taekwon-Do is “not a disconnection with the world, like a corpse, as in Buddhism,” (Volume 1). Moreover, General Choi purposefully broke away with the esoteric interpretations of the traditional martial arts and packaged Taekwon-Do as a modern, “scientific” art based on the natural sciences, in particular, Newtonian physics, anatomy, and physiology.

To conclude, whatever we want to say about the meditative value and possibly even ascetic value of the patterns in ITF Taekwon-Do, we must be very clear that it is not of a religious nature. It is definitely not in the same category as Shaolin kungfu. There may be some overlap with the Wudang tradition though—in that both the Taoists and Taekwon-Do has a health focus; the difference being however that for the Taoists this meant purposefully cultivating Ki, while in Taekwon-Do Ki is not emphasized and any such cultivation—assuming Ki exists—is a by-product rather than a goal in itself.

The meditative value of the ITF patterns, therefore, has to be searched for elsewhere than in the ascetic pursuits of the Chinese styles where the martial art forms supposedly originated.

Just to emphasize again, I’m making many sweeping statements about Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism and related martial arts in my writings above.

An Exposition on the Value of the Patterns in the ITF Taekwon-Do Pedagogy

This post brings together different essays I wrote on this blog regarding what I consider to be the value of the patterns as they are performed in ITF Taekwon-Do, keeping in mind the pedagogical paradigm of ITF Taekwon-Do.

While the forms in some martial arts may have purely practical value, the ITF patterns also serve as a vehicle to disseminate Korean philosophy, history, culture and aesthetics.

It would be wrong, therefore, to try and interpret the patterns as primarily templates for fighting. Although the patterns do have some practical application value, the ITF patterns are not fighting templates, and the way we move in the ITF patterns is not to be confused with how one would or should move during a real combative encounter. Nor is the main purpose of the patterns dallyeon, i.e. physical conditioning. Undoubtedly one will become exhausted from training the patterns, but the way the patterns are performed in ITF Taekwon-Do actually removes much of the physical difficulty (or "load") in the form of very deep stances, long periods of tension, or chains of quick connecting movements. One critique is that since such units of quick connecting movements are mostly removed from ITF patterns, it is difficult to know which sequences of techniques ought to go together. However, this is a flawed argument.

I believe, the primary value of the way the patterns are performed in ITF Taekwon-Do is to nurture certain kinaesthetic awareness and ability.

In my first post on the topic of the kinaesthetic value of the patterns I discuss relaxation, body awareness, and spacial awareness. In other words:

. . .the kinaesthetic value of the ITF patterns is concerned with teaching the practitioner to move from a state of relaxation. Furthermore, the patterns focus on body awareness (getting acquainted with one's static and dynamic balance), and spacial awareness, while also ingraining certain stances, basics, and increasing coordination.

My second post on the topic of the kinaesthetic value of patterns focuses on the emphasis on the acceleration of body mass in the patterns:

. . . a primary value of the patterns is to supply an environment in which to drill the acceleration of body mass in techniques, while using sequential motion to create a whip-like effect, and using gravity's force as an aid where appropriate. Moving with a sense of relaxation is a key ingredient in this regard. Although there is generally no sense of urgency in between techniques (with some exceptions), there is a definite sense of urgency in accelerating each individual technique quite rapidly. 

While accelerating the body mass is a primary goal, it is never at the expense of balance and posture. Traditional techniques as practised in the patterns are far more conservative than the over-zealous, albeit more powerful, but nevertheless riskier techniques found in combat sports.

Further kinaesthetic values of the patterns I discuss are rhythm-and-tempo, timing, and breathing:

The ITF patterns is the primary place where Taekwon-Do's rhythm and tempo is drilled. The rhythm guides the practitioner in acquiring when to relax and when to tense while executing techniques. The rhythm and tempo also teach strategic principles based on the Taegeuk (opposite forces of hard and soft) as well the Korean Sam-Taegeuk (three-phase forces). The patterns also became the foundation for training in timing, which is more fully practised in other parts of the ITF Taekwon-Do pedagogy. Finally, the patterns are a place that emphasises proper breathing, which is one of the most important principles in the ITF Taekwon-Do curriculum.

Finally, the patterns also have an ascetic or meditative function that involves a form of mind-training, which I will discuss in a future post. So far I have written a post on what the meditative function of the patterns is not.

In summary, the ITF patterns act as a vehicle for disseminating Korean philosophy, history, culture and aesthetics, for training certain kinaesthetic principles, and they may also have an ascetic or meditative function.

I conclude with a quotation from the book Legacies of the Sword (1997:107) by Karl F. Friday and Seki Humitaki:

A student’s training begins with pattern practice, but it is not supposed to end there. Kata are not, for example, intended to be used as a kind of database mechanically applied. Rather, pattern practice is employed as a tool for teaching and learning the principles underlying the techniques that make up the kata. Once these principles have been absorbed, the tool is to be set aside.

The Value of Patterns (Part 2): Kinaesthetics (Part 3: Rhythm & Breathing)

In my discussion on the kinaesthetic value of the patterns I discussed in Part 1 the heavy emphasis on relaxation and moving from a state of relaxation. I also focussed on the value of the patterns to acquire better body awareness with regards to static and dynamic balance, stances, personal space, and improving coordination. In Part 2 I focussed on the patterns providing an environment in which to drill the acceleration of body mass in techniques, while using sequential motion to create a whip-like effect, and using gravity's force as an aid where appropriate. In this (possibly) final instalment on what I consider to be the kinaesthetic value of the ITF patterns I will look at rhythm and tempo, timing, and breathing.

Rhythm & Tempo

“The pattern should be performed in a rhythmic motion and without stiffness,” states the ITF Encyclopaedia.

I have already noted how that tempo in the ITF patterns are relatively slow compared to, for instance, Karate kata. This had not always been the case. Originally, Taekwon-Do was strongly influenced by Karate and in fact many Karate kata were practised in the gyms in Korea in the 50's and 60's. Even when General Choi started the initiative of developing new forms (now known at the Chang Hon Patterns), rather than just using Karate's kata, it was not all wholly new. Many sequences and remnants from different Karate kata are recognizable in the Chang Hon pattern set. There is no need to throw out what works. But for a long time Taekwon-Do practitioners still performed the patterns in a Karatesque manner, while the rest of the system evolved to a more Korean Kinaesthetic that is more relaxed and light-footed.

However, with the introduction of the sine wave motion this changed. The sine wave motion resembles the three beat rhythm (one-two-THREE; one-two-THREE) that is common in traditional Korea music. Applying this rhythm the patterns become much more in-line with Korean kinaesthetics as we also see in Taekkyeon, Korea's folk martial art, and Korean traditional dance.

Understanding this rhythm, many martial art applications present themselves. The first two beats are usually in a state of relaxation, sometimes used for yielding or entering; while the last beat is the active hard moment, often used offensively. So the study of the rhythm becomes a study of the Taegeuk (Yin-Yang or “Eum-Yang” as it is known in Korean).

Although the rhythm is often interpreted as two phases of "soft" and "hard" or “relax” and “tense”, it can also be interpreted from a sam-taegeuk model of three phases to correspond with the phases of the sine wave motion. In the typical sine wave motion the three phases are usually, relax-rise-fall, but many other three-phase possibilities exist, for instance: yield-reposition-attack, enter-uproot-throw, defend-position-counterattack, unbalance-setup-control, guard—attack high—attack low, block-attack-attack, etc.

Typically from technique to technique the patterns require a specific relaxed, relatively slow tempo using one full sine wave motion for every technique, known as normal motion. This tempo is sporadically interrupted resulting in other types of tempo: slow motion, fast motion, connecting motion, and continuous motion. Each of these teaches different ways of employing the “wave”. Sometimes the wave is “ridden” so that some techniques are done while going up, immediately followed by a technique going down in the relax-rise-fall sequence, other times more than one technique may be done while “falling”, or the technique may be a flow of blocking directly into counter-attacking, and so on. The wave can also be inverted and need not always be done in all three parts.

There is a quotation from the book Advanced Aikido by Phong Thong Dang and Lynn Seiser that I really like: “The wave motion is a rolling movement. It is continuous. In many advanced aikido movements, one can observe the rolling motion of the wave. The motion of the vertical wave movement is up-down, down-up, down-up-down, or up-down-up. One can also use the wave movement horisontally in an in-out, out-in, in-out-in, or out-in-out pattern” (p. 55). This quote from an Aikido source would have fitted equally well in the ITF Encyclopaedia. (Read more about the shared principles between Aikido and ITF Taekwon-Do here.)

Timing

It is in the patterns where the practitioner is first introduced to such rhythms, and concepts of Taegeuk and Sam-Taegeuk, which will ultimately become the corner-stone of understanding how timing works.

Timing refers to the interaction with an opponent. Because one is only figuratively interacting with an opponent while practising the patterns, this is not the ideal exercise for learning timing. Real exercise in timing is done in partner drills, sparring and self-defence training. Nonetheless, timing is reliant on understanding rhythm, your own rhythm and your opponents rhythm, and in this sense the patterns becomes the foundation from where timing will later be build on.

Timing also refers to one's ability to coordinate different parts of the total movement of your technique for optimal effect; for instance, coordinating the different parts of your body during a technique in such a way that you maximize your momentum and then transfer that force into your opponent. This relates to sequential acceleration and controlled falling which I discussed in Part 2.

In particular, acquiring the ability to properly time your strike to occur at the moment your step lands, is a main focuses of practicing the patterns in ITF Taekwon-Do and is something that instructors pay special attention to. If the punch is delivered before the step is completed, then one's body structure is likely to be weak, which may result in poor delivery of force. Conversely, if your stepping foot lands first, then your forward momentum will disperse into the ground, and so the body's forward momentum is wasted. Instead, the technique must be so timed that the body's momentum is transferred into the target through the hand at the moment the foot lands, and in so doing capitalizing on the forward momentum, while ensuring proper body structure.


Breathing

The importance of correct breathing cannot be stressed enough. In ITF Taekwon-Do Breath Control is one of our six main technical principles. Not only is it a part of the Theory of Power, it is also referred to in the Training Secrets. The interesting thing about proper breathing is that it doesn't necessarily come naturally. While babies and most animals naturally do abdominal breathing, adults have usually lost this correct habit, possibly because of years of working in jobs that are not ergonomically friendly (like sitting behind desks and slouching over keyboards), restrictive clothing, bad posture, unnecessary stress, non-active lifestyles, and so on.

I recently discussed ITF Taekwon-Do's breathing in another post. My summary of the post was that “ITF Taekwon-Do encourages abdominal breathing. For combat purposes the abdominal breathing is adjusted to a short sharp breath that helps to focus both body and mind, helps prevent premature fatigue, helps to tense the core muscles at the moment of impact, helps to relax the body during the rest of time, and possibly even help to stifle pain or to endure strikes to pressure points.”

The rhythmic quality of the patterns, which corresponds with the traditional Korean three beat rhythm with emphasis on the third beat, is possibly the most prominent way where the ITF's short sharp breath is most specifically exercised. The patterns are concerned with coordinated movement and the practitioner learns to coordinate the motion with the breath. Usually every technique corresponds with one breath; in the full sine wave motion (relax-rise-fall), the first two-thirds where the body is relaxing and rising is generally used for inhalation, while the short sharp exhalation is done during the last third of the motion while the body is “falling”.  It is proper breathing that helps to make the patterns “sharp” as the breath is used to tense the core muscles and solidifies the body at the moment of impact. Grandmaster Rhee Ki Ha explains, “as we move we should feel light, relaxed and flowing like water. When we finish a movement the body should become strong and hard like iron. The breath is how we can achieve this . . .”

Conclusion

The ITF patterns is the primary place where Taekwon-Do's rhythm and tempo is drilled. The rhythm guides the practitioner in acquiring when to relax and when to tense when executing techniques. The rhythm and tempo also teach strategic principles based on the Taegeuk (opposite forces of hard and soft) as well the Korean Sam-Taegeuk (three-phase forces). The patterns also became the foundation for training in timing, which is more fully practised in other parts of the ITF Taekwon-Do pedagogy. Finally, the patterns are a place that emphasises proper breathing, which is one of the most important principles in the ITF Taekwon-Do curriculum.

The Value of Patterns (Part 2): Kinaesthetics (Part 2: Accelerated Body Mass—Not Speed)

In the first instalment on what I consider to be the kinaesthetic value of the ITF patterns I mentioned firstly it's heavy emphasis on relaxation and moving from a state of relaxation. Furthermore, I mentioned how the relatively slow tempo of the patterns helps with improving body awareness—understanding how one's balance changes both statically and dynamically, how your centre-of-gravity changes, how your centre of mass changes, how your weight shifts from one foot to another, and so on. Related to this is an acquaintance with Taekwon-Do's formal stances, Taekwon-Do's basic movements, and the added benefit of improved coordination.

In this second instalment on the kinaesthetic value of the ITF patterns, I will focus on the acceleration of body mass.

Quick Movements versus Forceful Movements

People are often surprised at how slow, unhurried the ITF patterns seem to be. This is true as far as the tempo of the patterns is concerned. With few exceptions there is no urgency to rush from one technique to another technique. The techniques are seldom bundled in clusters of frantic defences and attacks. The patterns are not the primary place for acquiring fighting skills; they are rather “drills” for teaching certain concepts of movement; i.e. kinaesthetics. One such a kinaesthetic concept that patterns are primarily concerned with is to differentiate between mere quick movements versus forceful movements. Therefore, the focus of the ITF patterns is not on moving the limbs very quickly, like for instance in American Kenpo or Whin Chun where the opponent is overwhelmed with a barrage of very rapid strikes.

The video below shows American Kenpo Grandmaster Ted Parker demonstrating their Short Form 3. Once the form gets going, notice the hurried urgency with which it is performed.



Such a urgency is most likely to reflect the hurriedness of a real combat situation. The purpose of the ITF patterns is not shadow-boxing, requiring a flurry of attacks and defences.

Instead, the purpose of the patterns is to teach the practitioner to “accelerate as much body mass as possible in the direction of the technique, with emphasis on strong exhalation, and without compromising your balance and posture.” The Fundamental Movements, as practised in the patterns, are primarily concerned with Newton's Second Law of Motion; i.e. Force = Mass x Acceleration. For nearly every movement in the patterns there must be a lot of mass accelerated. Practising flailing the limbs quickly is not the purpose of the patterns. Rather, the whole body mass should be activated for each technique.

Sequential Acceleration 

In the patterns, the aim is not really to learn how to move quickly; instead, the aim is to learn how to truly accelerate as much of the body's mass behind the technique as possible, but also in a whip-like manner known as sequential motion or kinetic chaining. This entails that different parts of the body initiates the movement at different times.

In the video below Grandmaster Choi Jung-Hwa looks at an exampled of a 90° turn into a forearm block as found in the pattern Chon-Ji, and speaks about the importance of employing  the waist to activate more of the body's mass, rather than just the arm for blocking. If one turns the waist too early it doesn't contribute to the momentum of the block. Different parts of the body is activated at different times in order to create the most momentum.



To quote Bruce Lee¹ on the subject of sequential motion:

The timing is such that each segment adds its speed to that of the others. The shortened lever principle is used to accentuate many of the particular speeds of this uncoil or whip. The rotation of each segment around its particular joint-fulcrum is made at high speed for that particular part; but each segment rate is accelerated tremendously because it rotates around a fulcrum already highly accelerated.

In the ITF patterns the techniques are often started with deliberate relaxation—corresponding with the first part of the sine wave motion. From here, however, the technique is accelerated in such a way that as much of the body mass as possible is engaged, adding to the force of the technique. For instance, when punching it is not merely the weight of the arm that is accelerated for the punch, but the mass of the whole body is engaged behind the punch, while sequential motion is applied to accelerate the punch in a whip-like fashion.

Bruce Lee, again, explains how this would work with analogies from sport:

In throwing a ball, all the accumulated speeds of the body are present at the elbow when the forearm snaps over its fast-moving elbow-fulcrum. . . An important aspect of this multiple action of acceleration is the introduction of each segment movement as late as possible in order to take full advantage of the peak acceleration of its fulcrum. The arm is kept so far behind that the chest muscles pulling against it are tensed and stretched. The final wrist snap is postponed until the last instant before release or, in striking, before contact. In football, the punter puts the last snap into his knee and foot as, or a shade after, he makes contact with the ball. It is this last moment acceleration that is meant by ‘block through the man’ in football or ‘punch through the man’ in boxing. The principle is to preserve the maximum acceleration up to the last instant of contact. Regardless of distance, the final phase of a movement should be the fastest. Maintaining this increasing acceleration as long as there is contact is sound. . .

Controlled Falling

One of the simplest ways to get the whole body's mass accelerated is by employing the constant pull of gravity. Much of the patterns, therefore, is concerned with teaching the practitioner “controlled falling”. In many of the techniques, the practitioner is actually “falling” into them, dropping his or her body weight from a higher position to a lower position and thereby converting potential energy into kinetic energy. Also, when stepping or sliding the body momentum is in a manner of speaking thrown into the technique, so that one is falling towards the target. In ITF Taekwon-Do we use this “falling” as a way to activate our body's mass, and then further accelerate the technique, using the aforementioned sequential motion method, which usually piggybacks on the “fall”; or put differently, while “falling” one accelerates different parts of the body sequentially in a whip-like fashion, thereby adding gravity's force with your own force.

It is important here to understand why I'm referring to it as “controlled falling” and not merely “falling”. One of the cardinal concepts in ITF Taekwon-Do is “to bring the action of [ones hands and feet] into one singe coordinated action . . .” at the same focused moment. Many martial arts believe it proper to first root, then punch when stepping. For instance, one would find in most systems of Karate that they will step, first plant the foot, and then punch. This is to ensure good structure and stability before punching. While this is a valid strategy, it does lose out on some of the power that can be gained from the forward momentum of the step. The problem with first placing your foot and then punching, is that once your foot lands—roots—the momentum dissipates into the ground.

Therefore, ITF Taekwon-Do, and some other martial arts like Xingyi, coordinate their movement so that their stepping foot lands at the same moment as the striking hand. In this way, the technique properly employs the whole momentum of the moving body and transfers this force through the technique (hand) into the target. Of course this is a basic concept in ITF Taekwon-Do and is practised constantly as part of our fundamental movements, but it is particularly in the patterns where we are constantly confronted with this principle in various types of techniques and contexts.

Using Gravity for Initiating Motion

Something I particularly find interesting about this principle when combined with ITF's focus on relaxation is how one learns to initiate movement of the body by using gravity's force, rather than one's own muscular force.

Doing so allows you to stay in a state of relaxation much longer than if you were to initiate your movement through muscular force. (The emphasis on relaxation was addressed in the previous post.)

For instance, a typical forward stepping punch in Karate requires that the Karateka thrusts forward with his rear foot. On the other hand, in ITF Taekwon-Do the way to initiate motion in the patterns is not by immediately thrusting with the rear leg, but rather by first relaxing the forward leg which causes the body to “fall” forward, so that the body's mass is brought forward onto the front leg in a natural, literally effortless way. This “falling” momentum is then capitalised on by the sequential acceleration of the different parts of the body later in the step. It is true that from start to finish the Karateka's forward stepping punch would be faster; however, the ITF practitioner's emphasis on accelerating more body mass is greater. Of course, it is important to remember that the aim of the patterns is not to teach fast, hurried defending and attacking, as might be the case in Karate. For more realistic defending and counter-attacking training other parts of the ITF pedagogy is used. The ITF patterns is building kinaesthetic awareness, and in this instance the goal is to acquire the ability to accelerate body mass sequentially and use gravity where appropriate to help with this, while emphasising relaxation.

Unhurried Tempo, but Hurried Acceleration 

It would be wrong to think, however, that the practitioner is not learning to move quickly. Actually, because there is a focus on acceleration, not merely on hurriedness, the practitioner learns how to accelerate quite dramatically.

Take a look at this video that shows a pattern in slow motion—the slow motion starts at 3:22. Notice, although each movement starts very slow, how fast they accelerate towards the end of each movement.




Even in a video that is artificially slowed down, one can see that the techniques are not slow throughout—in fact, at the moments just before impact, the techniques are extremely fast (even while shown in slow motion!).

So what is it that encourages this sudden acceleration? There is a principle in ITF Taekwon-Do that states that movements of the hands, feet and breath should finish at the same time—“To bring the action of [everything] into one singe coordinated action . . .”

In other words, for example in the case of a stepping back-fist strike, by the time the stepping foot is planted, the attack (the back-fist strike) should have landed also. In ITF Taekwon-Do one would generally not first step, root your foot, and then strike, as the moment your stepping food lands (and roots your body weight) the body's momentum is dispersed into the ground. So the back-fist strike should occur at the moment or slightly just before the stepping foot roots, causing the accelerated mass of your whole body to “fall” into the strike.

However, in the whole sequence of body parts being accelerated sequentially the striking arm actually starts quite late in moving towards it's target. The motion starts in the legs, then the hips, then the shoulders, then the elbow and lastly the forearm and wrist is flicked. This means that the arm should move very quickly to catch up with the motion of the rest of the body. While the patterns have no urgency in tempo, they definitely have an urgency in finishing the technique before the stepping foot has rooted (or before the “controlled fall” is finished). The focus is therefore not merely on moving quickly from technique to technique; rather, the focus is on accelerating every individual technique sequentially and as quickly as possible so that “the final phase of [the] movement [is] the fastest,” with a significant amount of body mass engaged behind it.

Conclusion

In conclusion, a primary value of the patterns is to supply an environment in which to drill the acceleration of body mass in techniques, while using sequential motion to create a whip-like effect, and using gravity's force as an aid where appropriate. Moving with a sense of relaxation is a key ingredient in this regard. Although there is generally no sense of urgency in between techniques (with some exceptions), there is a definite sense of urgency in accelerating each individual technique quite rapidly.

In the next instalment(s) on what I consider the kinaesthetic value of the ITF patterns I will look at rhythm and timing, and breathing.



1. Bruce Lee, “The Tao of Jeet Kune Do”

The Value of Patterns (Part 2): Kinaesthetics (Part 1: Relaxation, Body Awareness, and Spacial Awareness)

Me practicing Fundamental Movements

In previous posts I shared my opinion about the value of the ITF patterns. First I said that the patterns are not foremost fighting templates, nor are they primarily dallyeon (i.e. strength & fitness training). Then what is the primary reason for training in the patterns?

The main purpose, I believe, is Kinaesthetics. The patterns teach us a way of moving and understanding movement that is difficult to isolate and acquire through other drills.

The following comment by Master Manuel Adrogué's provides a good abstract to much of what this discussion will be about: “In ITF patterns there are no physical conditioning exercises, no applicable combat strategies, there is no hurry to conform to fast combat rhythm, just perfectly balanced, powerful techniques using all [the] time they may need.  Additionally, the emphasis on relaxation in ITF Taekwon-Do, to the point of completely shunning muscular force, educates students in correct habits of motion.”¹

I will discuss what I consider the kinaesthetic values of the ITF patterns over three posts. In this one I will look at conditioning relaxation; creating an awareness of one's equilibrium and body movement; including ingraining balanced and appropriate stances and basics; as well as creating spacial awareness. In the second post I will look at the value of learning how to accelerate one's body mass sequentially. In the final post post I will discuss training rhythm and breathing.

Relaxation

First, the ITF patterns, with their relatively slow tempo and emphasis on the sine wave motion, teaches the practitioner to relax. The full sine wave motion starts with deliberate relaxation. To perform a pattern correctly you must move from a state of relaxation, or as Grandmaster Rhee Ki Ha puts it: "relaxed, light, and fluid"². Any unnecessary tension, except at the moment of impact, makes the movement lose its "relaxed, light, and fluid" quality. Unlike some Karate kata where muscular tension is encouraged for the purpose of strength conditioning, in the ITF patterns muscular friction is particularly avoided. The only time muscles are tensed are at the final moment of the technique just before impact with it's target.

A primary function, then, of the ITF patterns is to condition one to move in a "relaxed, light, and fluid" manner. Using the pre-arranged sparring drills, the practitioner is guided to transfer such relaxation into combative activities. In the basic pre-arranged sparring exercises, such as three step-sparring, the practitioner will apply the same relaxed tempo to this drill. The practitioner therefore learns to stay relaxed even when facing an opponent (training partner).

As the practitioner progresses in level and skill, the complexity, difficulty and tempo of the drills are increased, moving along a continuum of very predictable drills with a low amount of variables, towards much less predictable (chaotic) drills with an increased amounts of variables that more closely reflect a real combat situation. (Read more on how this is supposed to work in my post on The Value and Purpose of Prearranged Sparring.)

If properly practised, the sense of relaxed movement that are continuously instilled through pattern practise is transferred into the other aspect of the system. This means that skilled practitioners are able to move with a similar relaxedness, lightness and fluidity that were instilled from the patterns, but at much quicker tempos as are required in more realistic combative training.

To me, this point—moving from a state or relaxation—is probably the most important reason the ITF patterns are performed the way they are.

Equilibrium and Body Awareness

The second kinaesthetic value of the ITF patterns is that their relatively slow tempo allows the ITF practitioner to become aware of both their static and dynamic balance. Because the ITF patterns are not considered combat-ready templates that mimic actual real combat, there is no need to rush them as if one were actually fighting. In fact, the tempo of the patterns are deliberately slowed down to allow the practitioner to become aware of the body mechanics and physics of each technique individually.

In other words, by doing the patterns so slowly, compared with the urgency with which the forms are performed in some other martial arts, the ITF practitioner has the time to really "feel" how their centre-of-gravity changes, how their weight shifts from one foot to another, how their mass moves through space, how the different parts of the body is sequentially activated to create a whip-like motion.

A Tai Chi Chuan practitioners usually perform their forms
in a consciously slow fashion.
Image Source

Both the previous point of conscious relaxation, and this point regarding a deliberate awareness of one's equilibrium and weight-shifting are goals the ITF patterns share with the Tai Chi Chuan forms. It would be ridiculous to suggest that a Tai Chi practitioner would engage in a fight applying the same slow motion tempo one sees them doing while performing a Tai Chi Chuan form. Obviously the Tai Chi practitioner would have to adapt his or her form to make it “combat applicable”—for one, the practitioner would definitely have to speed-up his or her movements. Why then does Tai Chi Chuan spend so much time practising their forms in slow-motion? The reason, I believe, is in part that the slow motions forces one to relax more, but also it really increases one's awareness of how your body moves through space, how your centre of gravity changes, how your weight shifts from one foot to the other. The moment you start rushing your movements it becomes exceptionally difficult to really become aware of the dynamics of such changes in one's balance and body structure. Rushed movements shift the focus from the “journey” to the “destination”. While there is much value in speed training (i.e. getting to the destination as quickly as possible), there is just as much value in understanding the variables along the path, and the latter is only truly achievable at a slower, contemplative tempo.

Ingrained Stances, Basics & Coordination 

Not only is the practitioner learning about balance and weight-shifting, but very importantly, the practitioner learns how different stances provide different types of structure and balance for different types of attacks and defences. The walking stance is strong from the front and back, but weak from the side; the sitting stance is strong from the side or when posting ("falling") against something but one can easily be pushed off balance from the front or back; the rear-foot stance (aka “cat-stance”) is good for withdrawing from an attack and counter-attacking with the leading foot, but it is not very stable as your balance is centred mostly over one foot only; and so on.

When moving through patterns, one shifts from one stance to the next stance, doing different steps and pivots; in so doing, the practitioner starts to acquaint him- or herself at a subconscious level with these stances within a dynamic context. Over time the practitioner finds that he or she almost automatically chooses the most appropriate stances for different tasks and situations. Such "automatic" responses are not accidental, but have been ingrained during years of pattern training.

(Read more about this in Dan Djurdjevic's post on “Kata, kinaesthesia, proprioception and motor learning”.)

Furthermore, certain types of movements which often uses gross motor skills become ingrained to form “basics”, which can be adjusted depending on what a situation calls for. Basics are different from Fundamental Techniques. It is rumoured that ITF Taekwon-Do has about 3200 Fundamental Techniques. Each one of these Fundamental Techniques is a specific identifiable technique using a specific stance and specific tool (e.g. attacking or blocking tool) aimed at a specific target on the opponent and which can usually be found described or is alluded to in the ITF Encyclopaedia.

A snap shot of an Intermediate Position

There are much fewer basics and one is exposed to all the important basics very early on, probably within the first few colour belt patterns. Basics are often embedded in the Fundamental Techniques and function as building blocks from which different Fundamental Techniques are constructed. An example of such basics is learning to move through the Intermediate Positions. Acquiring a sense of the intermediate positions is probably one of the most important kinaesthetic values of pattern practise. The problem with the intermediate positions is that they are dynamic, rather than static positions. In other words, unlike Fundamental Techniques that have an “end-position” in which we can pose statically, the intermediate positions are moments inside of movements and attempting to pose in them detract from their value. The only way to really get a sense for them is by practising them dynamically; i.e. while moving from one Fundamental Technique to another, and for this pattern practise is ideal.

Dan Djurdjevic compares what I call the basics, i.e. these “building blocks”, with stem cells that can change into whichever “cells” are required. Since he already explained this concept in detail, I will not repeat it here. Please read his post on “Kata Techniques as Stem Cell Movements”.

I need to also momentarily comment on coordination, which might be taken for granted, yet this is a point which is close to my heart. As a kid I had terrible coordination. Taekwon-Do, which I started as a teenager, has done much to improve my hand-eye (and foot-eye) coordination. Obviously all physical activity contributed to my improved coordination, but I believe that the patterns have a special value in this regard because of their systematic nature. I still vividly remember how difficult it was for me to master those very first forms, Saju-Jjireukgi and Saju-Makgi. It is surprising how many things occur during just one Fundamental Movement and for a beginner even something as elementary as the Saju-forms, that each consist of only two movements combined in a sequence, can prove to be quite daunting. The brain is wonderfully challenged and improved coordination is a great benefit. As a child I often missed catching something thrown at me; now, I sometimes catch things even without thinking. For instance, I'm often surprised how I would catch something that might fall from a table, without me even consciously trying to—it just happens reflexively. Whenever that happens I cannot help smiling, thinking of how far that clumsy teenager has come, and I'm certain the patterns played a part in that. The patterns are arranged according to certain levels of complexity and physical difficulty, causing a systematic development of ones coordination and other related skills.

Spacial Awareness

Another kinaesthetic value of the patterns is that it enhances one's spacial awareness.

Generally Asian cultures and cultures of the Far East in particular are group-orientated. An interesting feature of group-oriented cultures is that the personal space between people are often much smaller than is the case in individual-oriented cultures. This has some serious self-defence implications.

Let me make a quick detour through Thailand and then turn back to Korea again. A friend of mine, the actor and stuntman Damian Mavis who is also an ITF Taekwon-Do practitioner, resides in Thailand. On one visit with him we got to talk about personal space in Asia. He told me how easy he found it to sneak up on his Thai friends even from the side because of their sense of personal space which is so small. Similarly in Korea, standing or sitting on the subway with people's shoulders literally pressed against one another is not perceived as uncomfortable by Koreans. Likewise, when standing in a line, people often stand very close to each other. Personal space in the Far East is quite small and personal space to the rear and side is exceptionally small from Western standards. Furthermore, large, sudden movements are considered rude and improper in the conservative, group-oriented cultures of the Far East, influenced by Confucian standards of conduct.

I find it not surprising that the patterns which are based on the Japanese kata make such large movements, uses exaggerated long steps, and focus on turning at right angles and 180° pivots, forcing the practitioner to become aware of his or her sides and back just as much as his or her frontal space.

I hypothesize that the kata was, at least in part, developed to help the practitioner to break through his or her culturally induced small personal space, and actually to enlarge it. Obviously a larger and wider personal space will increase ones spacial awareness, which is a valuable skill for self-defence. If your personal space is larger, you become aware of people entering your personal space much earlier, which is very important for detecting threats earlier.

People are often narrowly focussed on what is in front of them; however, many attacks on one's person are surprise attacks launched from the side or behind. Widening one's spacial awareness to things on your sides and rear is a crucial skill for self-defence, and even more so for people from the Far East whose personal space is culturally smaller and narrower.

Although I have emphasised how the ITF patterns are used as a vehicle for bestowing Korean traditional culture, paradoxically, in this way the patterns (including the Japanese kata) seem to break with common Oriental culture by actually enlarging and widening their personal space.

Conclusion

The kinaesthetic value of the ITF patterns is concerned with teaching the practitioner to move from a state of relaxation. Furthermore, the patterns focus on body awareness (getting acquainted with one's static and dynamic balance), and spacial awareness, while also ingraining certain stances, basics, and increasing coordination.


1.  Manuel Adrogué , “ITF Taekwon-Do and Sine-Wave as 'Sequential Motion'”
2. Rhee Ki Ha, “This is Taekwon-Do”

A Demonstration

Just another video of a Northern Korean team demonstrating ITF Taekwon-Do. Of course it is all choreographed, but that is after all the purpose of a demonstration of this sort. This particular demonstration goes to great lengths to focus exclusively on fundamental techniques (i.e. basic movements) in action. The fact that some of the boards do not break shows that these are actual hard boards, not the cardboard thin planks customarily used in the demonstrations of other taekwondo version.

Whatever qualms people have about the practicability of ITF Taekwon-Do, including its controversial sine-wave motion, they cannot deny the dexterity, power, and precision that this martial art can instil. But with all things, such feats requires lots of dedicated training.

Grand Master Park Jung Tae Seminar, Ireland 1987

The Republic of Ireland Taekwon-Do Association (RITA-ITF) recently did the ITF Taekwon-Do world an exquisite favour by uploading onto YouTube a series videos of a technical seminar presented by Grandmaster Park Jung Tae, who was in his time both Secretary General and Technical Director of ITF Taekwon-Do (and later president of GTF).

What I find fascinating about this seminar is that what I'm teaching today in 2012 is not that much different from what he taught in 1987. And I'm specifically referring to the kinaesthetics: e.g. the use of hip twist and sine wave motion (body raising or dropping) in power generation; the employing of a small loop-motion in order to adhere to the “once the movement is in motion it should not stop until it reaches its target”-principle (I like how he said: “No punch comes out from the hip!”); stances and stepping; real focus on “snappiness” in balgyeong techniques, such as knife hand strikes; a clear sense of intermediate positions; and the importance of relaxation. Keep in mind that my personal influences have been quite eclectic: I had trained under instructors from South Africa, England, Australia, North Korea, South Korea, China, Japan and Argentina; technically, I consider my personal techniques to be most closely in line with the Chang Ung ITF group.

Grandmaster Park's seminar goes through the colour belt patterns, starting with Dan-Gun Teul and ending with Choong-Moo Teul. While watching the videos, focus on Grandmaster Park's movements and teaching, rather than that of the participants as some of them are still adjusting their techniques and sometimes perform it clearly wrong.

Dan-Gun 

Do-San 

Won-Hyo

Yul-Gok


Joong-Gun


Toi-Gye

Hwa-Rang

Choong-Moo