| dr Qi Jiang Tao |
| Honouring the master of Yielding |
I was very pleased to hear from mr Lee Partis, who was kind enough to send two of his pictures.
“This first story does imply a fundamental criticism of my original taiji teacher in London, with whom I had been studying a form purportedly taught by Dr Chi. I later came to recognize that all of my fellow students without exception shared the fault that Dr Chi was trying to correct in me, so for this reason I prefer not to name my first teacher. Neither would I wish to be quoted in a way that suggests the fault was exclusively mine.
I studied the so-called “Dr Chi short form” in London, along with the long form and other variants for more than four years before I had the opportunity to visit the Master himself in Vancouver BC. Dr Chi’s English was charmingly imperfect, but more than adequate to discuss matters of taijiquan. More importantly, his demonstrations were outstandingly clear and impressive, and his form was strikingly simple and elegant.
He found the form I was practicing puzzling, burdened as it was with many embellishments added by my London teacher which Dr Chi unequivocally pronounced to be “not so correct”. He was particularly baffled by my pushing hands technique. As I attempted to yield, he would close my arm against my chest, pressing gently with his thumb. Then, with a small movement that left no imprint or sensation on my arm, he would propel me with his thumb so that I flew backwards across his garden. Each time he did it, I resolved that next time I would feel what that thumb did, but it was impossible. Over and over, he repeated to me the words “Why no turn waist? I catch! One finger!”.
Dr Chi was picking up on the fact that we London students were characteristically unable to differentiate our waist from our hips. Discussions on this subject were to continue among those of us who visited him for years to come. This differentiation became much clearer to me in later years when I studied other internal arts, namely Chen-style taijiquan with Liu Wenqun and Liu Xiaoguang in Beijing and Yin-style baguazhang with the London study group of the Xie Peiqi and He Jinbao lineage.
A conversation with my fellow taiji student Lee Partis yielded the following anecdote: Out in Dr. Chi’s garden he would ask to see our form. He would often try to convey to us that our idea of the form was “too heavy”. Once, a squirrel appeared and ran nimbly along the fence nearby. Dr. Chi drew attention to the squirrel. “Light spirit … light spirit!” was his comment.
Another story was relayed to me by Lee goes as follows. Dr Chi was a member of a Chinese Christian congregation in Vancouver, and there he met a young boxer whose background was in yiquan. My elder brother in taiji, Adrian Murray, also met and pushed hands with this man whom I will call S. He said of S that his years of yiquan training had made his body feel like the tyre on a London bus – not hard in the way of external martial arts, but resilient with tremendous inner strength. S became a student of Dr Chi, and deferred to him in keeping with traditional Chinese social behaviour toward elders. After a time, Dr Chi sensed that S did not believe Dr Chi could really defend himself using taijiuan. Dr Chi challenged S: “You attack me … any way!” S refused, unable to bring himself to attack an elderly gentleman. Eventually, Dr Chi sternly gave S an ultimatum: “If you will not attack me, you cannot come here to my home any more”. Dr Chi did not disappoint S with his response. When Lee asked him what happened, Dr Chi said simply “S attacked me. I threw him away …” and gesturing with his hand to his eyebrow as he peered into the distance “… too far!”.
Dr Chi had a most uncanny skill: It was not possible to grasp his arm. No matter how hard you tried, that thin arm would always dissolve through your grasp. He would not withdraw it. The arm would still be there at your fingertips, but you could not close your grip around it. He once told a story of a wrestler who mocked taiji. He challenged this wrestler to take hold of him. It was a hot day and the wrestler tried for nearly an hour to grapple with Dr Chi but was unable to get old of him. Eventually, dripping with perspiration from his exertions, the wrestler gave up. Dr Chi wiped his forehead with his handkerchief and remarked “After one hour, I must wipe my brow, but you are taking a bath”.
Dr Chi’s English was very charming, and sometimes a little “old-fashioned”. I often wonder how conscious he was of the way his rather comical phrases were able to embed themselves in the memory of his students for decades to come. After he had got to know something of my character, he decided it was safe to show me some fighting techniques. While demonstrating an elbow-stroke technique capable of delivering a double injury, he said “I show you because you are a soft man. Only use if a rascal or a robber comes!”. (Note for non-native English speakers: Historically, the term rascal once referred to a violent criminal, but over time its usage has softened and nowadays we would apply it humorously to describe a naughty or impish child.)”
The above anecdotes were sent to me by Richard Coldman. Thank you Richard.