Korea Deconstructed Interview

At the end of last year I was a guest on the Korea Deconstructed podcast by Dr David Tizzard, in which we spoke about my life in Korea, Taekwon-Do, and East Asian and martial arts philosophy. Korea Deconstructed is a great podcast that covers all things related to Korean: culture, history, politics. The guests are often scholars researching various aspects of Korea. If you are interested into a deep dive into Korean culture, this is a great podcast to follow. 

As for Dr Tizzard, he has a PhD in Korean Studies and writes a weekly column for Korea Times magazine. 

... Sanko Lewis

Soo Shim Rock

My original Taekwon-Do school that I opened in 1998 was simply named Potchefstroom Taekwon-Do Club and it kept that name for the 25 years that it ran at the North West University in Potchefstroom, South Africa. However, when the national governing body restructured in 2001, chief instructors who oversaw more than one school had to choose a name for their association of schools, which were called “Kwan”, inspired by the legendary original Kwan in South Korea which were the foundations of what would eventually become Taekwon-Do. (The word “Kwan” 관 actually means building, by implication a training hall. But within the martial arts community back then it suggested a home or family for a particular style. In South Korea there were five original Kwan. The number increased to nine before – with the exception of one Kwan – they all eventually merged into one system: Tae Kwon Do. Within roughly a decade and a half, Tae Kwon Do would become two distinct styles: ITF Taekwon-Do and Kukki/WT Taekwondo. But I digress…) 

As one of the chief instructors I had to choose a name for my Kwan. I knew immediately which name it would be: Soo Shim Kwan. I had read the philosophical phrase “Soo Shim” a few years prior, in 1997, in an issue of Tae Kwon Do Times magazine. The concept immediately resonated with me. Soo means water. Shim means heart or mind. The implication is to be like water. Now were you to ask the average Korean what “soo shim” means, they would probably think of various homonyms based on other root words ranging from “water level” to “melancholy”. However, were you to mention the term to either a philosopher or an erudite martial artist, you would get nods of knowing approval. The metaphor of water to describe one’s movements and mental state is a well-known and appreciated symbol within certain martial arts circles and East Asian schools of thought. (I provide a short overview of this here.)

As an intangible philosophical concept, there isn’t really a special place or particular thing one can visit that has relevance to “Soo Shim”. Or so I thought… One day, probably in search of more philosophical information on the concept, I stumbled upon a little article of some ancient calligraphy carved into a rock with the characters for “Soo Shim”. Of course, this made me elated, and I put it on my bucket list to go find this rock. Well, recently on my way back to Seoul from a trip to Jeongju, I noticed that with only about an hour’s detour, I would be able to go see the “Soo Shim”-rock at last. 

 

 

This little trip would not have been of much interest to most other people, but to me it was very special. The stone carving was nearly imperceptible. The paint that used to emblazon the engraved characters were mostly worn away with time and weathering. Nevertheless, I immediately recognized the letters that had been part of my life and thinking for over two decades. And while my connection with this place was simply one of my own making, it felt nevertheless meaningful.
 

Confucian scholar and calligrapher Song Si-yeol, known by his penname Uam

The characters were calligraphed by Master Song Si-yeol (1607-1698), penname Uam, an esteemed Confucian scholar who lived during the mid-Joseon Dynasty. The reason for the engravement on that particular rock is twofold. First, it is simply the name of the rock: “Sooshimdae” (Sooshim-rock). The rock is also central to a scattering of villages that were arranged in the pattern of the Chinese character "shim" [心]. Not far from this location is a stream; hence one could sit on the rock in the shade of the pine trees and peacefully observe the water passing by. The implication is that the rock was a place of meditation. Secondly, it was in honour of a famous teacher and patriot Jo Heon (趙憲) (1544-1592), a civil official who devoted himself to learning and teaching in that area. He lived roughly a hundred years before Master Song. Jo Heon was known for frequently visiting this rock and apparently he was the one who named the rock “Sooshimdae”. In some of his writings he referred to the area as both a haven and a place for raising one’s spirits (qi). 

Civil servant and teacher turned militia leader, Jo Heong

 
In 1592 the Japanese invaded Korea; Jo raised about 700 civilian troops as a volunteer militia in the Geumsan region to fight against the invaders. Their initial guerrilla tactics proved successful and there joined attack on the Japanese-occupied Chongju with the warrior monk Yonggyu and his militia freed Chongju. However, in a subsequent battle in Geumsan, Jo and his army were defeated and killed. Jo Heon was posthumously promoted to “minister in charge of public administration” by King Seonjo in 1604 and again to “prime minister” in 1609 by King Gwanghae in recognition of his services to his country. Joheon Sadang, a shrine where memorial services for Jo Heon are held was originally built in 1734 during the reign of King Yengjo. The original shrine building continued to deteriorate so it was rebuilt at the present site, right next to one of Jo Heon’s favourite places, the Sooshim-rock. The shrine building was built with donations from provincial schools, Confucian scholars, and Jo Heon’s descendants. Joheon Sadang has been dedicated as a Tangible Cultural Heritage (Material No. 26) for Chungcheongnam Province, and belongs to the Baecheon Jo-family.
 
Of course, for many readers of this blog, the Sooshim-rock and the story of Jo Heong is of little value. However, for those of you that consider yourself part of the Soo Shim Kwan family it might be interesting. I found it serendipitous that the “Soo Shim” concept has such a tremendously long history in Korea; I loved that this rock is named after it, as a place for contemplation, a place of meditation on “Soo Shim”; and that one person who meditated on “Soo Shim” also became a militia leader when circumstances required of him to protect his country against an invading army.

The Tenet of ‘Courtesy’ in Taekwon-Do

Calligraphy by Choi Hong-Hi
of the Tenets of Taekwon-Do

 

General Choi Hong-hi, the founder of ITF Taekwon-Do, composed a list of five tenets that he required practitioners to recite and embody. The tenets, as they are translated into English, are courtesy [예의], integrity [염치], perseverance [인내], self-control [극기], and an indomitable spirit [백절 불굴]. As I pointed out in a previous essay, with some of these terms, there is something lost in translation. This is also the case for the first tenet, “courtesy”.

 

In English, the word “courtesy” suggests polite and respectful behaviour with proper etiquette, which is close to the translations one would get if you search the equivalent Korean word [예의] in a Korean-English dictionary: manners, etiquette, courtesy, politeness, proprieties, decorum, and civility.

 

While this may be a general understanding of the term, the Korean word “ye-eui” has a deeper connotation which one may glimpse when you look at the hanja (Chinese characters) on which the word is based. The hanja for “ye-eui” [예의] is 禮儀. The first character [禮] can translate to manners (decent and respectable behaviour) or ritual propriety (proper actions during rites and ritual ceremonies), while the second character roughly translates to proper etiquette, but can also translate as righteous or lawful behaviour. What I want to point out here is that the Korean term “ye-eui” [예의] has a much more demanding implication than the English word “courtesy”. Courteous behaviour may simply be good manners and one’s adherence or disregard of them does not really have any serious consequences. Whereas the Korean term implies the righteousness or lawfulness of one’s conduct. 

 

Confucius was a Chinese sage-philosopher
whose teachings greatly affected East Asia.
There are still many aspects of Confucianism
that are part of modern Korean culture.

 

Confucianism is fundamental to Korean culture and central to Confucianism is the concept of li (‘ritual propriety’ or ‘sense-of-ritual’). Li covers a wide range of conduct and behaviour from religious rites to state and governmental rituals, to social ceremonies such as at weddings and funerals, to appropriate etiquette for social relations. In other words, it covers every aspect of one’s life: in religious matters, with regards to the State, in society at large, within families, and among all relationships. It is both the adherence to state laws and the respect one shows to one’s parents and elders, including the good manners when interacting with people in daily life, even such seeming trivialities as drinking etiquette and table manners.

Confucianism (cf. Mencius) believes that we have the seeds of li innately inside us, but that a ‘sense-of-ritual’ should be learned and developed. The idea of “ritual” here should be understood more broadly to include all appropriate behaviours: manners, etiquette, lawful deeds and righteous conduct. Furthermore, notice the concept “sense-of-ritual”: it is not merely about adhering to codes and rules of conduct; rather, there should be an internal sense of appropriate behaviour. Thus, “sense-of-ritual” refers to a developed moral sensibility.

The Confucian ideal is to be a junzi [君子], often translated as “a gentleman” or “superior person.” (The Korean equivalent is a gunja [군자], a person of virtue and culture.) When Confucius’ greatest disciple Yan Hui asked his Master about perfect virtue (ren 仁), Confucius answered: “Don’t look in a way that is not li, don’t listen in a way that is not li, don’t speak in a way that is not li, and don’t move in a way that is not li.” It would be incorrect to conclude that it is all about outward behaviours—how one ought to or ought not to behave. Confucius’ answer was in regard to his student’s question about virtue. Virtue is more than just an outward display; in a righteous person, virtues have become internalized. Confucian scholars like Mencius considered li a virtue alongside other virtues such as benevolence, filial piety, and sincerity. To another student Confucius answered: “Let your words be sincere and truthful and your actions honorable and careful.”  

 

Bowing before training is one
part of showing courtesy.

 

To bring it back to our original discussion of Taekwon-Do’s tenet of courtesy, the Chinese term li is in fact the same first character in the word “ye-eui” [예의, 禮儀]. Often in Taekwon-Do we understand “courtesy” simply as the respectful behaviours in the dojang such as taking our shoes off before stepping onto the mat, or bowing to instructors or to our opponents before sparring; however, as I tried to show here, ‘courtesy’ must be understood in a much broader sense. Like the other tenets, it is not just limited to the confines of the dojang. The courtesy tenet extends to how we treat people in our daily lives—with respect and sincerity—and the way we conduct ourselves in society. It is not merely about behaviour, but rather an attitude (“sense-of-ritual”). It is also culturally sensitive and situationally sensitive, what Koreans call nunchi [눈치], which is the ability to read a social situation and act appropriately. To embody courtesy means that you will conduct yourself in a noble and virtuous manner at all times—like a junzi / gunja, a person of culture and learning.

Royal Asiatic Society Lecture: Movement Characteristics of Korean Traditional Dance and Martial Arts

On Tuesday, 10 November 2020, I gave a lecture to the Royal Asiatic Society - Korea Branch, in Seoul. The lecture occurred via Zoom and was recorded.  Below is how the lecture was advertised, and below that is the YouTube link to watch the recording online. 

Movement Characteristics of Korean Traditional Dance and Martial Arts

In this lecture, Dr. Sanko Lewis reveals several key characteristics that give Korean traditional dance and martial arts their particular “Korean flavor.” Through ethnographic research, Dr. Lewis identifies similar kinetic principles employed in the traditional Korean movement disciplines and discuss their cultural origins and technical functions. He also points out how attempts to appeal to a younger audience may cause a martial art to lose its traditional identity; for example, taekwondo’s inclusion of K-pop music and urban dance is eroding those characteristics that taekwondo shared with traditional Korean disciplines such as traditional dance. After this lecture, you will be able to identify the movement characteristics of Korean traditional dance and martial arts, which will enable you to recognize and have a better appreciation for the kinetic aspect of Korea’s intangible heritage.

https://youtu.be/jPCXvRygq_4

Knee-Bending Movement 오금질 in Korean Body Culture

A very important part of Korean body culture is the bending of the knees, known in Korean as "ogeum-jil" 오금질. In the video below, a Korean folk dance instructor discusses this feature of Korean movement. It is only in Korean, so it won't be of much value for most readers of my blog who do not speak Korean; however, even browsing through the video will highlight some of the similarities between the stepping in Korean folk dance and some of the ways we move in ITF Taekwon-Do.

The following video shows some Taekkyeon 택견 training. Taekkyeon is a Korean folk martial art that employs a three-beat triangular stepping known as "pumbalbgi" 품밟기 which also involves the Korean "ogeum-jil" or knee-bending.

It is likely that the term "ogeum-jil" is what became known as "knee-spring" in Taekwon-Do.

This motion of knee-bending is part of a larger aspect of Korean body culture known as "gulshin" 굴신, which refers to the contraction and expansion of the body through different means; for example, the bending and flexing of the knees, the expansion of the torso through breathing, and the lengthening of the spine, even the mental attitudes of lightness and heaviness. All of this may create a vertical lengthening or shortening of a persons frame, hence it has been translated into English by one dance scholar as "verticality".

In the following video about breathing in Korean traditional dance, one can see the different aspects of "gulshin" in action.

To understand ITF Taekwon-Do's sine wave motion, one has to take into consideration these aspects of Korean body culture. The sine wave motion is not merely a "scientific" attempt to increase the amount of body mass employed in techniques by first raising the body to create potential energy, and then dropping the body to convert the potential energy into kinetic energy. While this is part of how sine wave is understood, it should be understood within this larger, cultural framework. The sine wave movement is part of Korean body culture.

"Martial Arts" in Korean

On a Facebook group that I belong, the following questions were recently posted:

1. When did the term "Art" get applied to martial studies? 

2. Do Koreans call TKD an "Art"?

The term “art” in “martial art” doesn’t mean “aesthetics,” as it is often suggested. The word comes from the old French “ars,” which means craftsmanship and was adopted into English to mean skill, particularly of something that needs to be practiced, hence the related term “artisan.” Thus, martial arts simply mean ‘war skills’ (“martial” from Mars, god of war; “arts” from ‘ars’ [old French], meaning craftsmanship, skill).

(As a side note, Dr John Johnson and Dr Peter Ha wrote a paper in which they argue that the English term “martial art” should be understood as a system for self-cultivation. They also propose that the terms “combat system” and “combat sport” be used for other types of martial arts that do not have the self-cultivation goal, but rather combative or sportive goals, respectively. I don’t agree with how they define the term “martial art” based on the etymology of “art” that means skill, as I explained above, but I agree with their assessment that there are different categories of martial arts and that using more precise language is probably better.)

In Korean there are three terms that is usually translated into English as martial arts: “musul 무술”, “muye 무예”, and “mudo 무도”. The base term “mu 무” (from the hanja: 武) translates to roughly “martial” (“martiality”). The suffixes “-sul 술”, “-ye 예”, and “-do 도” translate as “skill”, “art”, and “way” respectively. Since “art” in the English term “martial art” means “skill,” the closest Korean equivalent is “musul”. Interestingly, the “art” in “muye” actually does have a stronger aesthetic connotation in Korean; while “martial art” in English is actually more about a practiced skill, the Korean term “muye” is more about a creative skill.

The preferred term in Chinese for martial arts is “wushu” 武術, which is the same as “musul” in Korean and “bujitsu” in Japanese; i.e. martial skill. In Japanese, the term “budo” has become preferred for their (modern training of) martial arts and corresponds with the Korean “mudo”; i.e. martial way 武道.

Which is the Korean preference? Korean traditionalists typically use the term “muye 무예” (hanja: 武藝 ) in their writing. This point was brought up specifically by the professors at Kyunghee University (Korea) where I did my PhD. The ancient Korean martial art texts have “muye 무예” in their titles: Muyejebo (1598), Muyejebobeonyeoksokjip (1610), Muyesinbo (1759), Muyedobotongji (1790). A modern example is Taekkyeon practitioners who refer to their style as “our [Korean] martial art” (uri-ui muye 우리의 무예) in their writings. Even General Choi, when he described Taekwon-Do as the “Korean art of self-defense” literally called it “hoshin yesul 호신예술” (i.e. the art [creative act] of self-defense).

There are two things that need to be pointed out:

First, although the term “muye” is typically used to refer to traditional martial arts in Korean, that doesn’t mean that there is a very strong emphasis on creative expression. Having lived in Korea for over a decade and having trained in several Korean martial arts (ITF TKD, Hapkido, Taekkyeon, and other cross-training), hardly any Korean instructors I’ve trained under stressed creativity (creative self-expression) as a primary part of their discipline. That's one reason why I disagree with the notion that the ITF patterns is a dance where the practitioner can creatively express themselves. (I have not trained much with Kukki/WT instructors, so I don’t know if creative self-expression is something that is emphasized in Kukki/WT Taekwondo.)

Second, the terms “musul,” “muye,” and “mudo” are sometimes used to suggest a practitioner’s growth on the martial arts journey, starting with a basic acquisition of techniques (“musul”), to a creative improvisation of techniques (“muye”), to a spiritual discipline where lessons learned in the dojang is intuited to life wisdom (“mudo”) beyond fighting. I’ve written about this here on my blog, and Dr Johnson has also written academically about it.

In short, to answer the original question:

The English term “martial art” is better understood as “war skills”.

Koreans have three terms for martial arts: “musul,” “muye”, and “mudo.” All three terms can be used and often are used interchangeably by Korean speakers. Although lay people often use “musul,” “muye”, and “mudo” as synonymous, the term “muye” is typically employed by Koreans to refer to traditional Korean martial arts, differentiating it from the Chinese “wushu” (“musul”) and the Japanese “budo” (“mudo”). The terms are also sometimes applied to indicate a person’s progression along the martial arts journey, with “musul” referring to the foundation level or technical training and “mudo” implying ascetic self-development. Koreans who practice martial arts as a way of life refer to themselves as “mudo-in 무도인” (literally: martial-way-person).

Finally, as for “Taekwon-Do,” since the term includes the “-do” suffix, we can assume that the pioneers hoped that it would be a system of self-development and not simply a “musul” or “muye.”

Korean Dance, Sine-Wave Movement, and Breathing

I recently took up Korean traditional dancing again. I'm taking classes offered by the National Theater of Korea, which also offers classes in Korean traditional drumming (that I also learned before), and Korean panseori (traditional singing). The reason for taking traditional dance (and why I previously took Korean drumming) is to continue my understanding of traditional Korean body culture.

Attending the recent dancing classes affirmed again the strong similarities with the way we move in ITF Taekwon-Do. Something that is particularly standing out for me this time is breathing in dancing, and how it correlates with the breathing we do in ITF Taekwon-Do. My friend Dr John Johnson also sent me some academic articles about breathing in Korean dancing which I'm slowly working through (as they are in Korean). The following quotation is from another article that I downloaded from somewhere else long ago, which illustrates the similarities between breathing in ITF Taekwon-Do and traditional Korean dance:

"When inhaling the body expands, rising, moving out or up, with arms and legs being lifted and stretched. When exhaling the body contracts, sinking, moving in or down, with arms and legs being lowered or bent." -- Dr. Young-Ae Park, "The Two Characteristics of Korean Dance".

Korean dance movements start from a lowered position with the limbs relaxed and the knees bent. This is the same for ITF Taekwon-Do techniques that start in a neutral position (sometimes known as the intermediate position), as I explained in a different post long ago.  In Korean dance, the dancer will start a movement by "rising, moving out or up" which corresponds with an inhalation. This is the same with most ITF Taekwon-Do techniques: the legs are extended, the body raised and the technique is "loaded" for execution. Next, the technique is "released" corresponding to a "sinking, moving in or down . . . and the legs being lowered or bent" while exhaling.

In Korean dance, such up and down movements, with associated breathing, includes more layers of detail, including mental states, postural nuances, particular points of relaxation and tension. The same can be said for the different techniques in Taekwon-Do, of course. I hope to write an article about this sometime, and will probably write about my experience in traditional Korean dance here on this blog in the future.

Taekkyun: An Essay

I was recently asked to write a 700 word essay for a magazine about my experience in Taekkyeon. Below is the first draft of that essay. 

Taekkyeon: Korea’s Folk Martial Art

By Dr. Sanko Lewis

Although I couldn’t understand the words, I could easily hum along to the soulful pentatonic melodies. The grannies happily sang the songs of their youth, while rhythmically stepping in a triangular pattern, bending their knees in a rhythmic bounce with each step, and swinging their arms this way and that way, as if wading through barley fields. The uninitiated seeing these elderly women in their sixties, seventies, and eighties—one even aged ninety-three—singing and moving to the rhythm of their ancestral songs would easily mistake the activity for a folk dance, rather than a martial art.

My first encounter with Taekkyeon, Korea’s most authentic martial art, was quite providential. I’ve already been practicing Korean martial arts since I was a teenager. I had a fourth degree black belt in Taekwondo and also a black belt in Hapkido, but I was eager to experience the lessor known Taekkyeon. Both Taekwondo and Hapkido are strongly influenced by Japanese martial arts—a legacy of the Japanese colonization of the Korean peninsula from 1910 to 1945. Taekwondo evolved from Shotokan Karate, and Hapkido evolved from Daito-ryu Aiki-jujutsu. Taekkyeon, however, was a folk martial art practiced before the annexation of Korea, and suppressed nearly into extinction during the occupation. I knew that if I truly wanted to understand Korean martial arts, that I had to learn Taekkyeon. I was thrilled when I discovered that there is a respected Taekkyeon instructor at the very university where I just started working.

He was an oriental medicine doctor by profession and taught acupuncture and Taekkyeon at the university’s “Life Long Education Center.” The center offers different classes to retirees, hence the reason this class was filled with Korean grannies who came for acupuncture lessons on Wednesday and Friday mornings. I only attended the Wednesday morning class because on Fridays it clashed with one of the literature classes I teach in the English Department. When the grannies finish their acupuncture lesson, an hour of Taekkyeon followed. Halfway through the Taekkyeon class, someone would sneak out to switch on the rice cooker, for afterwards it was time for lunch. The grannies brought fourth numerous containers of homemade Korean side dishes—pickled chilies, beans glazed in honey, fern-shoots brined in soy sauce, stir-fried mushrooms, sweet lotus root, spicy kimchi—everyone shared in the merry potluck. I became very fond of these ladies who treated me like a long-lost son who they had to reintroduce into their culture. They not only fed me (and made sure I ate more than enough), they also taught me their beloved folk songs, and even showed me how to put on the white hanbok—a traditional Korean outfit—worn during Taekkyeon training. I found the unusual knot used to tie the jacket in the front and the pant legs tight against the ankles particularly challenging, and when my knots were jumbled one of the grannies would re-knot them properly. I loved training with the grannies and enjoyed being part of that unique community, but after a few months I realized that I wasn’t learning much anymore. The grannies went through all the fighting motions, but they never actually sparred, and even if they did, I would have felt much too uncomfortable sparring against them. It was then that I started looking for another Taekkyeon group where I could learn the more practical side of the martial art. My Taekwondo instructor in Seoul did some research and found me one of the most reputable Taekkyeon schools in the country, located in Insadong, a “traditional street” in downtown Seoul.

Even at this school, with a clear sparring focus, and known for hosting regular “Taekkyeon Battles,” I was surprised to discover the use of traditional Korean music. Warm-ups were done to the rhythm of a folk song and occasional singing, and during sparring sessions a live folk music percussion band accompanied the “battles.” Taekkyeon is innately connected to the traditional folk rhythms of Korea. Taekkyeon’s fundamental movements are based on a triangular stepping pattern known as pumbalbgi that follows the three-beat rhythm found in traditional Korean music. There is a conspicuous bounciness about Taekkyeon that echoes the up-and-down motions seen in Korean traditional dance. The knees are rhythmically bent and extended so that the techniques acquire a wavelike motion quite distinct from the martial arts of the neighboring China and Japan.

Not unlike a dance, the movements should be enjoyed. “Don’t be too serious,” advised Grandmaster Do one evening, “you should always smile while doing Taekkyeon.” And so I smiled, thinking back to the cheerful grannies that taught me to sing their childhood songs.

ITF's Sine Wave Motion and Korean Body Culture

Every so often I stumble upon (or am pulled into) an online conversation about ITF Taekwon-Do’s sine wave motion. This happened again recently. Unfortunately, I do not have the time to discuss all the points addressed on these online discourses. Many of the concerns I have addressed here on my blog, over the years. This blog post is in response to one recent comment on a sine wave motion related discussion:

“[The sine wave motion] was only ‘created’ [by General Choi] to discredit the pioneer instructors who left the ITF, saying they were not teaching real Tae Kwon-Do.”

The writer of this comment may have gotten this view from Alex Gillis’ book A Killing Art: The Untold History of Tae Kwon Do, Updated and Revised (2nd ed. p. 149). Unfortunately, that would be a wrong reading of the text, and a wrong understanding of the evolution of ITF Taekwon-Do under General Choi. I concede that Gillis does suggest that the sine wave motion was used politically to discredit other instructors for not doing his version of Taekwon-Do; however, the text doesn’t explicitly state that that was the reason the sine wave motion was “created”. (Footnote 1)

It is my opinion that the “creation” (for lack of a better term) of the sine wave motion was to make Taekwon-Do more authentically Korean. From early on, General Choi was on a mission to make a Korean art. It is well known that Taekwon-Do was originally, primarily based on Japanese (Shotokan) Karate. It is also a known fact that General Choi purposefully set out to make a “Korean” martial art, and started making significant changes to the karate he studied in Japan. His development of Taekwon-Do away from Japanese Karate towards a more Korean martial art was a continual process. Scholars like myself and Dr. He-Young Kimm agree that the thing that changed Taekwon-Do from being a Japanese style to a Korean style was not the superficial alteration of where the arms cross for blocks or such technicalities, or even the development of new patterns, which are based on very similar templates than Japanese Karate. Instead, the thing that changed the art from being Japanese is the exchange for Korean “traditional body movement” (Taekwondo History, p. 40). Kimm correctly states that the sine wave motion’s “up-and-down motion ... is in harmony with Korean traditional body culture” and that it has its origin in “traditional Korean body culture” (p. 81). In fact, Kimm goes so far as to say that Taekwon-Do only became a “true Korean martial art through the use of the ‘sine wave’ motion in the early 1980s” (27). It is the sine wave motion which forever changed the DNA, so to speak, of Taekwon-Do, because the sine wave motion is based on the DNA of Korean body culture, as opposed to Japanese body culture. (For what it is worth, martial arts historian Dr. He-Young Kimm is not an ITF Taekwon-Do practitioner, so his comments come with a degree of objectivity that I as an ITF practitioner might be perceived to lack.)

I have lived in Korea now for nearly a decade, and researching Korean body culture has been an ongoing interest of mine. I cannot count how many Korean traditional dance performances I have seen (as I attend dance performance sometimes several times a month); I’ve spoken to quite a few traditional Korean dancers and choreographers (including traditional dance scholars); I’ve studied Taekkyeon (Korea’s “folk” martial art) and discussed the movements with highly acclaimed Taekkyeon masters; I’m currently studying Korean drumming, at the National Theater of Korea, to better understand traditional Korean rhythm; I’ve even looked into Korean shamanism in order to get a better understanding of Korean body culture. While my researched is still ongoing, here are two significant elements that I think essential to Korean body culture:

First, Korean body culture has an intentional “verticality.” I came across the term the first time in the book Korean Dance: Pure Emotion and Energy (Korea Essentials Book 15), which describes it as follows:

The theme of up-and-down movements persists in Korean dance. In slower forms like court dances and those influenced by Buddhism, dancers regularly rotate between bending and extending their knees. In faster dances such as mask dances and certain folk dances, the bent knees are released in a burst of kinetic energy into a jump.” (p. 15.)

Simply put, “verticality” refers to up-and-down movements, usually achieved through the bending and straightening of the knees. However, this “verticality” doesn’t always have to involve the knees; for instance, apart from using the knees, in Korean traditional dance, the “verticality” is often emphasized by the lifting and dropping of the shoulders. “Verticality” is also noticeable with Korean drummers while seated, so as a concept it can be any type of up-and-down movement of the body.

The Korean term used for how this “verticality” is accomplished is gulshin dongjak 굴신 동작, which can roughly be translated into English as “springiness” or “elasticity”, although more often as “bending and stretching” or “extension and contraction”.

The second element of traditional Korean body culture is a three-beat rhythm. Basic Korean traditional dances, as well as traditional Korean music, usually follow a ¾ meter. We see a three-beat rhythm used in the basic stepping (pumbalbki 품밟기) of the Korean folk martial art Taekkyeon 택견, and we notice a three beat rhythm in the sine wave motion in ITF Taekwon-Do. (The origin of the three beat may by the philosophical concept of sam-yoso 삼요소, as the idea of yin-yang and Korea’s three-lobed yin-yang known as sam-taegeuk 삼태극 is part of Korean traditional dance.)

The sine wave motion has brought to ITF Taekwon-Do these two elements: a clear sense of verticality and a three beat rhythm. Thus, I disagree that the sine wave motion was simply “created” to discredit non-ITF practitioners. No, the sine wave was “created” to make Taekwon-Do a truly Korean martial art, rather than just a rebranding of Karate. The sine wave is one of many deliberate changes made by General Choi in his pursuit of creating an authentically Korean martial art.

A part of me want to be so rash as to say that if you practice Taekwon-Do as a Korean martial art, then gulshin dongjak should be part of your system, whether it is the “ITF sine-wave Tul motion” or the “WTF free-sparring stepping/hopping motions”, which according to Dr Kimm both “come from the same type of traditional Korean body culture” (p. 80). If you do not want to do gulshin dongjak, maybe you should rather do Karate, which follows Japanese body culture based on Shintoism.

A final thought on the idea that the sine wave motion was “created” by General Choi: I think the aforementioned discussion on traditional Korean body culture makes it clear that what we refer to as the sine wave motion in ITF Taekwon-Do was not “created” by General Choi at all, but instead is part and partial of traditional Korean body movement, and that General Choi only appropriated this into Taekwon-Do; he didn't invent it.

The big critique people have against vertical motion in Taekwon-Do is a practical one:

So-what if ITF Taekwon-Do's sine wave motion is an embodiment of traditional Korean movement as seen in other Korean activities such as traditional Korean dance—does the sine wave motion have any practical combative value? 

That is the real critique and my answer to that is, yes, it does have combative value. First, the discerning martial artist will note that the same principles are used in many other martial arts (Footnote 2). Furthermore, the sine wave principle is immensely useful for joint locks and throwing techniques. Also, if you understand how to use it as a way for generating vertical (either upwards or downwards) power, then it compliments the other power generation methods such as the hip rotation a lot. It is also useful in instances where hip rotation is not possible; for example, think of a wedging block or twin punch. Just don’t be one of those daft people that say that the sine wave doesn’t contribute power to techniques moving at a horizontal trajectory. Of course, it doesn’t. If I was a teenager I would have facepalmed myself and exclaimed “duh!”

To conclude, the sine wave motion was used to differentiate between General Choi's Taekwon-Do and other Taekwon-Do; however, that was not the reason for its inclusion in ITF Taekwon-Do. The purpose of the sine wave motion, I am convinced, was to make Taekwon-Do authentically Korean by including two elements that are essential to traditional Korean body culture: verticality and a three beat rhythm. Furthermore, when correctly understood and appropriately applied, the sine wave motion does have practical, combative benefits.

...ooOoo...

Footnote 1: While Alex Gillis doesn’t say that the sine wave motion was created specifically for discrediting other Taekwon-Do practitioners, such a reading is easy to come to, because the preceding paragraph states that the pattern Ju-Che was designed as a gift to communist North Korea, and that the sine wave motion which was used to discredit other Taekwon-Do instructors was also a gift to the North. My opinion is that although the sine wave motion may have been used as a political tool to discredit certain people, that was not the reason for its creation.

Footnote 2: The same principles found in the sine wave motion can also be found in other martial arts. For example:

• Aikido [1, 2]

• Hsing-I / Xingi [1, 2]

• Systema (YouTube)

• Taekkyeon (YouTube)

• Tai-Chi (Chen Style)

Sources Cited:

Gilles, A. 2016. A Killing Art: The Untold History of Tae Kwon Do. Updated and Revised Edition.
Kimm, H. Y. 2013. Taekwondo History.
Seoul Selection. Korean Dance: Pure Emotion and Energy.

Re-Unification Through Taekwon-Do

The dream of re-unifying North and South Korea is slowly fading away. In the past when there were still many families that were separated by the arbitrary division line that was set up after the Korean War, a strong drive still existed among the Korean populace towards unification. But now, decades later, the majority of the relatives who were separated have passed away. Also, after decades of separation, the two Koreas have now also separated culturally. At first one could really have talked about "one Korea", as the common people did indeed share the same culture and values. But after years of either Democratic / Capitalist motivations for the one, and years of Communist rhetoric and oppression for the other, we now have generations of young Koreans who have very little in common with those people across the border.


In a recent documentary (part of a series by KBS on re-unification), the idea of Taekwon-Do as a means for connecting Koreans across the political and DMZ divide came up again. This is not the first documentary of this nature that focus on the possible role Taekwon-Do might have to bring Korean people together.  There are two main styles of Taekwon-Do practiced around the world, Kukki / WTF Taekwon-Do and ITF Taekwon-Do. In North and South Korea, however, each emphasize another style. In South Korea the Kukki / WTF style of Taekwon-Do (the one that is also practised in the Olympic Games) is most prominent. You can find a Kukki style Taekwon-Do club in every neighborhood. Trying to find an ITF school is almost impossible. In Seoul, the capital of South Korea, there are only two ITF style schools admits an sea of Kukki / WTF style schools. Conversely, in North Korea it is ITF Taekwon-Do which is state approved and Kukki / WTF style is neglected.

Just as the Korean people who originally shared the same culture but because of separation has now become culturally quite different, the two styles of Taekwon-Do has undergone the same respective evolutions. They are both Taekwon-Do, and have the same roots, but their further development have taken them on different evolutionary paths.

The documentary ends on a high note, with two Taekwon-Do demonstration teams, one from South Korea and one from North Korea, meeting for a shared demonstration in Russia, and having a sort of cultural martial arts exchange. The North Koreans being inspired by the flashy kicks and acrobatic skills of the South Korean Kukki / WTF practitioners, and the South Koreans in awe of the power of the ITF demonstrators from the North. There is even moments of hand-shaking, hugging, and funny pictures. What this event shows, is something that a North Korean defector now living in South Korea recently strongly asserted in an essay "Beyond Blood and Bloody Relations"--the idea of re-unification must face the fact that there are indeed two separate Korean nations.

As long as Koreans insist that they are one--rather than two cultures--there can never be the type of cultural exchange necessary to form relations and understanding. And maybe such Taekwon-Do gatherings of shared demonstrations by two different Taekwon-Do styles could indeed provide an example that may lead towards mutual respect and understanding. Only then can one even consider talking about re-unification.

Below is the the ITF Taekwon-Do pattern Tong-Il, which means "Reunification" and symbolizes the hope of a unified Korea. This is the final pattern in the ITF Taekwon-Do curriculum.

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. 

Happy Lunar New Year

Today is Lunar New Year, celebrated by most of the Orient. The Lunar New Year falls on a different date every year depending on the lunar cycle, on the first day of the first month of the lunar calendar.

In Korea Seolnal (Lunar New Year's Day) is one of the two big holidays of the year with both the day before and after also being public holidays because of the travelling involved. Families go to the home of the oldest male member of the family. Traditionally all the male members of the family will pay homage to their ancestors. Respect is also shown to the eldest members of the family starting with the grandparents, with deep bows. During these formalities it is customary for Koreans to dress formally in traditional clothes known as Hanbok.

The traditional meal for Seolnal is ddeokkuk, rice-dumpling soup, although Korean holidays are known for lots of eating of different types of traditional food. Families often also play games together. Traditionally kite-flying was a particular seolnal activity and some Koreans still do so.

One can give Korean New Year's greetings by saying: "새해 복 많이 받으세요!", pronounced as: seh-heh bock mahn-hee bah-duh-se-yoh. It means: "May you have many blessings in the New Year!"

Traditional Korean Music and Korean Kinesthetics

One of my closest friends is genetically Korean but while he was still a toddler he was adopted by a Dutch family and so he grew up in the Netherlands. Although my friend looks Korean, when he walks or moves in a crowd of Koreans I can easily recognize him because his motions, his “rhythm,” is different from the other Koreans around him. Similarly, when I walk the streets in Korea it is surprisingly easy to spot non-Koreans, even from behind, merely by the way they carry themselves.

People from different cultures move differently. Allow me momentary stereotyping as I expand on this idea. An African American from the Bronx has a completely different stride than a Texan cowboy. I'm confident that if one were to look at the music from these two cultures (hip-hop in the case of the African-American from the Bronx, and country music in the case of the Texan cowboy) one would notice similarities between the way they move, and the qualities of the music that represent their respective sub-cultures.

In this post I will give a short overview of traditional Korean music and highlight points of overlap with some Korean martial arts, particularly the folk art Taekkyeon and ITF Taekwon-Do.

I recently attended a lecture hosted by the Royal Asiatic Society (Korean Branch), presented by Professor Sheen Dae-Cheol 신대철 of the Academy of Korean Studies, on the topic “Calm and Dynamic: Two Differing Aesthetic Aspects of Korean Traditional Music.”

Traditional Korean music can be divided into two groups: upperclass music known as Jeongak 전각 (music for royalty and noblemen) and Minsogak 민소각 (folk music). Jeongak can further be grouped into Court Ritual Music, such as Royal Shrine Music and Confucian Shrine Music; Court party music for royal birthdays, weddings, etc.; Royal Procession Music; and Literati Music, which is music listened to by the upperclass, but which is not court music. Although different types of traditional music exist, they all share certain recognizable characteristics.

Professor Sheen lists the following characteristics for traditional Korean music:

1. Monophony (instead of polyphony)
2. Pentatonic and tri-tonic scales
3. Breath tempo (Heterophony)
4. Triple rhythm
5. Downbeat start and upbeat cadence
6. Short consonants and extra long vowels in vocal music
7. Rhythmic pattern
8. Curved melodic line with typical vibrato known as nonghyeon or nongeum

Not everything in this list is directly relevant, but there are certain points that definitely stands out for me. First, points #4 and #5 I think are significant. Traditional Korean music follows a "triple rhythm", or a three beat rhythm. The three beat rhythm is also quite popular in Western music in the form of the Waltz: ONE-two-three, ONE-two-three. The Korean triple rhythm works the opposite way however, starting with a downbeat. Instead of ONE-two-three, the Korean three beat is more likely to be a one-two-THREE, one-two-THREE. The Korean triple rhythm is noticeable in different forms of traditional dance. It is also very easily recognized in the Korean folk martial art Taekkyeon where it is the foundation for the basic stepping known as pumbalbki 품밟기. Similarly ITF Taekwon-Do practitioners will also recognize this, as they are often coached by their instructors to do their patterns "one-and-TWO, one-and-TWO" or "one-two-THREE, one-two-THREE"; in other words, three beats, starting with a downbeat—or starting relaxed. The full sine wave motion manifested as down-up-DOWN or relax-rise-FALL adheres to this three beat rhythm.

Another point from Professor Sheen's list I wish to highlight is #8. In traditional Korean music, when a melody moves from one note to another that is some distance away, it would often not abruptly jump to the next note. Instead there would often be a smooth transition through all the notes in between until it reaches the desired note; i.e. it moves in a "curved melodic line". Furthermore, upon reaching a note, it is not merely kept at that pitch, but rather the voice or instrument would oscillate around that note as a very noticeable vibrato. (In court music the vibrato is narrow, but in folk music the amplitude is greater.) Such vibrato, or moving in a wave up and down the music scale, translates as up and down movements in traditional Korean dance, as a form of bounciness in the movements of Taekkyeon, as a type of bobbing in the sparring stance in WTF Taekwondo, and possibly as the sine wave motion in ITF Taekwon-Do.

Different cultures move differently, which is often a reflection of the music and the innate rhythm of the culture. It is quite possible that such cultural rhythms may also influence the rhythms of the martial arts practiced in those cultures. The triple rhythm of the Korean folk martial art Taekkyeon resembles that of traditional Korean dances, which in turn is based on the triple rhythm of traditional Korean music. ITF Taekwon-Do has a root in Taekkyeon, and therefore is influenced by similar cultural movements. Although the sine wave motion has clear technical considerations, it is also in harmony with traditional Korean kinesthetics.

Following are some samples of traditional Korean music. The first is known as Sujecheon 수제천 and is a court piece wishing the king longevity dating back 1300 years. (The title translates roughly to 'a life as long as the heavens'.) During the Joseon period one beat lasted about three seconds, so it is difficult to discern the beats in this piece of music. One can however appreciated the curved melodic line and vibrato.




The following song is probably Korea's most famous folk song, Arirang 아리랑. The leading vocalist in the video is pansori maestro Jang Sa Ik. Try to listen for the Korean three-beat rhythm and also notice his body movements; in other words, notice how he interprets the rhythm kinetically.




Related Posts:

• Sine Wave Motion & Korean Kinaesthetics
• Philosophical Congruence of the Sine Wave Motion
• Sine Wave Motion = Linear Karate Movement + Bobbing Taekkyeon Movement

Philosophical Congruence of the Sine Wave Motion

I have taken great pains to put ITF Taekwon-Do's sine wave motion within it's proper context, showing that it is not the be-all-and-end-all of ITF Taekwon-Do—the sine wave motion is definitely not an ever present feature in the sense that we are expected to make every technique conform to an artificial down-up-down template. And while it is a conspicuous part of ITF Taekwon-Do, it the not the most important feature of ITF Taekwon-Do. The technical principles of ITF Taekwon-Do, the Theory of Power and Training Secrets, refer to the sine wave motion peripherally. The sine wave motion is not itself a separate principle listed in the Theory of Power or Training Secrets.

Rather, the sine wave motion is merely one manifestation of a greater principle found in many martial arts—the Wave / Circle Principle, which is extrapolated from the Taoist concept of yin and yang as depicted in the Taijitu 太極圖 (yin-yang symbol, known in Korean as the Taegeukdo 태극도). In this post I want to show how the sine wave motion is in fact consistent with the Taoist philosophy that underscores the Oriental martial arts, and is furthermore in line with the Korean expression thereof. The sine wave motion firstly manifests the Taoist idea of the Taegeukdo, commonly understood as the forces of Yin and Yang (In Korean: Eum 음and Yang 양); and secondly, it corresponds with the Korean concept of Sam-Taegeuk 삼태극.

What ever may be said about the actual practicality of the sine wave motion for combat purposes aside, I believe that the application and inclusion of the sine wave motion in this Korean martial art is philosophically congruent with Korean traditional philosophy.

"Approach it [Tao] and there is no beginning; follow it and there is no end." -- Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching

Tao / 도

There are many martial arts that are based on ideas from the Tao 道. Many modern martial arts (martial arts that developed in the early 1900s) have the concept of Tao (aka "Do" 도) embedded in their names, consider for instance Taekwondo, Hapkido, Aikido, Judo, Tang Soo Do, and so on. Even older martial arts, particularly the Wudang styles (Chinese internal martial arts) are known for their Taoist connection. Unlike the Shaolin styles that have clearer Buddhist links (Shoalin kung fu was historically practised by Shaolin Buddhist monks in Buddhist monastaries), Wudang monks trained in Taoist monasteries. It is not surprising that strong elements of Taoism are to be found in the three primary Wudang styles: Taichi Chuan, Baqua Zang, and Xing-yi Chuan. For instance Taichi Chuan bases much of its movements on the oscillating hard and soft flow, the turns and inverted turns, of the Taijitu, similarly Xing-Yi Chuan's techniques are based on an oscillation of hard (Yang) and soft (Yin), albeit in a more linear fashion, while Baqua Zang's circular stepping mimics the Taoist concept of the I-Ching 易經. For the Wudang styles Taoist ideals form the basis of both their philosophy and their techniques.

The more modern martial arts (those with the "Do"-suffix in their names), may not always clearly illustrate Taoism at a technical level, but they do embrace Taoist principles such as the interplay of Ying (Eum) and Yang at a philosophical level.

ITF Taekwon-Do has, however, evolved towards a more technical embodiment of Taoist ideas in a way that makes the contemporary manifestation of ITF Taekwon-Do much more akin to Wudang styles than to its earlier way of moving that resembled linear Shotokan Karate. The way Taoist movement manifests in ITF Taekwon-Do is in its oscillation between emphasized moments of extreme relaxation, followed by momentary tension. ITF Taekwon-Do seems to be riding a wave of tranquility and explosive movement, of soft and hard, of base and vertex, of continual change. I've written elsewhere similarities I observe between ITF Taekwon-Do and such Chinese styles as Taichi Chuan and Xing-Yi Chuan.

Taijitu / 太極圖

As one would expect, such a Taiji / Taegeuk concept of soft and hard, of yielding and pushing, is hardly unique to Taekwondo. Many martial arts accept this as a foundational premise and some styles such as Judo is completely based on this notion of the interplay between soft (yielding) and hard (pushing or pulling). However, while we do see these concepts of soft and hard at work in Korean styles like ITF Taekwon-Do as well, we also see something else in the Korean art.

In a manner of speaking, the originally Chinese Taijitu 太極圖, which was also adopted into Japan, present a dualistic (two-dimensional) cosmology of two equal, but opposite forces working in harmony. The same is not exactly true for ancient Korean philosophy where the Taijitu was conformed to the Korean cosmology. First the Taiji(tu) became the Taegeuk(do) 태극(도) in the Korean paradigm.

Taegeukdo / 태극도

Superficially the Taijitu and the Taegeukdo may seem the same, but in fact the Taegeukdo is deliberately coloured. One of the forces is presented in red, and the other in blue. These colours have symbolic meanings, referring to "heaven" and "earth" respectively. Furthermore, the Korean Taegeuk generally do not have two dots as present in the Chinese Taiji. In Chinese cosmology the dots show how that the two opposite forces are connected with each other, the one already impregnated with the essence of the other. In Korean cosmology, however, the thing that connects the two forces is a third, different element, not an aspect of the opposite force. Korean philosophy proposes an amended Taegeuk that doesn't merely consist of two forces, but actually of three interacting forces, known as the Sam-Taegeuk 三太極. ("Sam" means three.)

Sam-Taegeuk / 三太極

The Sam-Taegeuk is a uniquely Korean expression of the Taegeuk. Where the normal Taijitu / Taegeuk consists of only two opposite forces / phases that are in continual change, the Sam-Taegeuk embraces three harmonious forces. The third, yellow force symbolizes man ("humanity"). This idea is traditionally known as Sam-Jae 삼재, but is now more commonly referred to as Sam-Yoso 삼요소, which directly translated means “three elements” or “triple essence”. The Sam-Taegeuk symbolizes the harmonious interplay between the forces of heaven (한을 / 천국), earth (토 / 지구), and man (사람 / 인간). In physical terms we might interpret these as a rising force, a lowering force, and a connecting or normalizing force.

What we find in ITF Taekwon-Do is not a pure adherence to the Taiji in the Chinese tradition that functions on a binary paradigm of two opposing forces working in harmony. Instead, ITF Taekwon-Do functions within a traditional Korean philosophical paradigm of the Sam-Taegeuk or Sam-Yoso. In Korean culture we most noticeably recognize the idea of “three” in the typical three-beat rhythm used for much of Korean traditional music. The same rhythm can be recognized in Korean martial arts. ITF Taekwon-Do, like Taekkyeon—Korea's folk martial art—follows Korea's traditional three beat rhythm, explained by Grandmaster Kimm He-Young: “Japanese [martial arts] have a two beat movement, 'block, punch', 'block, punch'. But the Korean body rhythm has 3 beats . . . one two three, one two three.” (I quoted Grandmaster Kimm before in a previous post dealing with a similar topic.) The three phased sine wave motion matches the “Korean body rhythm” and is in congruence with the Korean concept of Sam-Taegeuk. Or to phrase it differently, there is a harmony between ITF Taekwon-Do's sine wave motion and traditional Korean cosmology. Deeper inquiry into the Sam-Taegeuk and how this influence the Korean psyche and Korean kinaesthetics may be an interesting and possibly insightful endeavor.

Note that with this essay I did not attempt to argue in favour of the sine wave motion on technical grounds. I have done that elsewhere on this blog. My aim was merely to show that it is consistent with traditional Korean cosmology symbolized by the Sam-Taegeuk and reflected in the three beat Korean “body rhythm” as is also evident in Taekkyeon, Korea's folk martial art. In other words, it is reasonable to say that ITF Taekown-Do, like Taekkyeon, moves in a certain way because they are Korean martial arts that reflect Korean kinesthetics based on Korean philosophy and cosmology.

Related Posts:

• A Philosophical Look at Chon-Ji 
• The Wave / Circle Principle
• Balgyeong in ITF Taekwon-Do and the Taekkyeon Connection
• From Hard Style Karate to Soft Style Tai Chi

Sine Wave Motion & Korean Kinesthetics

For a long time I have felt myself to be a singular voice proclaiming the obvious connection between ITF Taekwon-Do's sine wave motion and the movement of Taekkyeon, Korea's folk martial art. As someone that has trained in Taekkyeon, the link is glaringly obvious. Even though General Choi Hong-Hi downplayed Taekkyeon's influence, the link is undeniable as almost anyone that has trained in both ITF and Taekkyeon will tell you. It is therefore with much satisfaction that I read Paul Mitchell's interview with Grandmaster (Dr.) Kimm He-Young in last month's issue of Totally Tae Kwon Do (Issue #44).

Children playing Taekkyeon

Grandmaster Kimm, a Korean martial arts historian, affirmed what I have found as well, that ITF Taekwon-Do's kinaesthetics is very much a Korean way of moving which is very clearly also seen in Taekkyeon. Grandmaster Kimm explains that although “General Choi says he is not using Taekkyeon in creating Taekwon-Do system [sic], he is using Korean body movement, which is different from Japanese body movement,” (p. 20). The core of Taekkyeon is its three-rhythm movement; the most fundamental training in Taekkyeon is the poombalbgi 품밟기, Taekkyeon's three-rhythm stepping. Grandmaster Kimm continues to explains that “Japanese [martial arts] have a two beat movement, 'block, punch', 'block, punch'. But the Korean body rhythm has 3 beats . . . one two three, one two three. This is the reason that in free sparring Koreans are always moving, the Japanese are steady. General Choi said his Taekkyeon didn't influence his Taekwon-Do, but the Korean people's body culture [kinaesthetics], which you can see in Taekwon-Do, you see in Taekkyon as well, iki yakki iki, one two three” (p. 21).

[Read more about the Korean rhythm here.]

Grandmaster Kimm explains that although Taekwon-Do techniques are “Shotokan based” they are “adapted to Korean body culture” (p. 21), i.e. Korean kinaesthetics. In a previous post I said basically the same: “ITF Taekwon-Do has incorporated the soft style wave principle from Taekkyeon into the Karate way of moving.”

In trying to understand ITF Taekwon-Do's kinaesthetics (including its employment of the sine wave motion) one cannot approach it exclusively from a Japanese, Karatesque paradigm. One has to include the Taekkyeon connection, and you must take into account the greater context of Korean kinaesthetics. The Korean “Body Culture”, as Grandmaster Kimm refers to it, is visible also in traditional Korean dance. In closing, look at this video that I took earlier this year of Korean Buddhist monks and nuns (yes, Korea has Buddhist nuns) performing a dance ceremony during Buddha's Birthday celebrations. An ITF practitioner will immediately recognise the “sine wave motion,” and people familiar with the Korean “Body Culture” will recognise it very easily as well.