Will the real Wing Chun please stand up?

The technical truth behind kung fu’s most popular styles.

Story by Pablo Cardenas

Will the real Wing Chun please stand up? That would be a fair question coming from any Aussie who’s looked around for a Wing Chun kung fu school to find that many of them claim to be ‘the one’ when it comes to carrying on the tradition. Several of the largest schools also contradict each other’s claims by touting themselves as the true or sole inheritor of the system taught by the art’s most famous master – and subject of three recent movies – Grandmaster Ip (or Yip) Man. Here, Wing Chun instructor Pablo Cardenas dissects the differences in the methods of the art’s competing clans and asks, what does it really mean for the student?

Just take a look on the internet for five minutes and you’ll get an idea of how much the politics of Wing Chun affects the art’s propagation and development today. There are arguments over who holds ‘true’ lineages, who were, or were not, the ‘closed door students’ of Ip Man, whose Wing Chun is authentic, which system is the most practical… the list goes on. As a Wing Chun instructor who has only benefited from free and open association with various teachers from many branches of Wing Chun and other martial arts systems, I believe we should not be drawn into these debates. They can cloud our reasoning and judgement, and place us in a box, at the very least. As martial artists, we should always be looking for a better way to defend against a punch, grab, etc. Is there a better way? Yes. Is there a best way? No – but there are different ways. If yin and yang principles are applied, you can have different approaches with differing outcomes, but each could work. As Wing Chun kung fu enthusiasts, we should not be divided by assertions that ‘this is the right way’ or ‘this is the wrong way’, as almost every technique and tactic has its advantages and disadvantages.

Take the argument over the Wing Chun footwork, which can differ quite substantially from system to system. Do you land on the ball, the heel, or the middle of the foot? Who’s right and who’s wrong? Probably neither, if we focus on choosing the right tool for the right task and accept that each method has advantages and disadvantages. If the footwork is evaluated upon its suitability to the surface underfoot (terrain, gradient, dry or wet condition, etc.), the tactical aims (mobility, the ability to interrupt/abort a move to adapt to changing circumstances, etc.) and the abilities and disabilities of the individual, then which type of footwork would be appropriate? Would I step heel-toe if I had to cover ground quickly? Would I land on the ball of my foot if I had to cover ground deliberately and cautiously? When would I utilise landing on my whole foot?

Would the hand formations be enhanced or suffer according to which you choose? Is there an absolute right answer?

Whatever the type of combat, we will be required to compromise. This does not necessarily mean to ‘meet in the middle’, as a calculated but risky move may pay dividends. Find the balance that will achieve the result that suits you, considering all the competing priorities of speed, power, control, etc. Note: to increase speed, one may sacrifice accuracy and control and vice versa; this example is only to highlight one of many considerations. So, which is right and wrong when you throw in the external considerations or when it’s beyond your control?

Stepping to the opponent’s ‘blind side’ (i.e. outside his leading leg and thus away from the more powerful rear hand and leg) is a sound strategy and has many merits, but it also has its drawbacks. It may be safer, but it relies on speed to get there. And what if your opponent is simply better, what do you do now? As one steps to a parallel blind side, the faster or more strategically seasoned opponent might easily pivot around to face your centreline. While the system teaches specifics – i.e. the forms, combined with principles it allows you to be able to interpret openly so it may suit the situation and you, far from the absolutes of the arguments out there. If a system has a right and wrong way set in stone, then where is the versatility and adaption that’s required by any system that’s to have a future? Armies of the world were forced to change their training, strategy and tactics on the battlefield after the introduction of the rifle, and again with every subsequent invention of new ordnance, armour, transport or communication tools. Do we protect the art from modification because one thinks it’s perfect?

How much bodyweight should be placed over each leg is another topic of debate in Wing Chun circles. When is it advantageous to place all your weight on the rear leg, and what are the advantages to weighting your stance evenly? Many circumstantial variables exist that determine which is the better way – and then it will only be valid for that moment in time. It may feel natural for predators to be slightly on the front foot, their line of force directed at the prey, akin to an athletic stance for various sports. Can weighting the rear leg cause a disadvantage at the pre-contact and exchange ranges? If I have 100 percent of my weight on the back leg, what would I have to do if needed to kick with my rear leg? Would I have to rely on speed to make it work? Can my rear leg produce more power and penetration than a kick with my leading leg? Could an evenly weighted stance be more multidirectional and have a bigger scope for mobility? Do I have more selections of kicks for either foot? How about a 30/70 stance (as preferred by boxers) – where ill my centre of gravity be? Is there a compromise, and what is compromised when you select one over the other?

In light of all these questions, can we really determine an absolute judgement on which is correct or incorrect? There are numerous ways the body positions itself to counter opposing forces; all we need to do is acknowledge them. This does not mean ‘modifying’ Wing Chun in a negative connotation, as the underpinning principles will surface. A balanced stance can have stability, mobility, interruptability (i.e. facilitate changing direction mid-step) and be relaxed, so it can be stable enough to absorb and reciprocate force, but not overly ‘rooted’ such that mobility and interruptability are compromised, just how the body will naturally respond prior to any learning.

Another issue of contention is whether it’s better to move by sliding or pivoting the foot, as many Wing Chun systems do, or by stepping, as advocated in William Cheung’s ‘Traditional Wing Chun’ method, for example. While sliding the foot is utilised by some styles, can terrain (sand, uneven ground, etc.) make restrictive? Could it slow you down, akin to driving with the hand brake on? Speed/mobility or stability/balance – which do you sacrifice? Ultimately, each method has its application. If Wing Chun is based on natural movements, then our footwork should be adaptable, not determined by lineage! When teaching children without prior training, they tend to pivot on the balls of their feet because this is common to many sporting activities. If one looks at the sole of a shoe, you can see the wear, indicating what is most natural for movement. Try pivoting on you heels: does this feel awkward? Now step on the balls of your feet: can this effect ground contact and balance? Does heel pivoting generate more power? Can this also shorten reach? Does using the ball increase your reach?

With valid reasons – and, each method, why is there so much intent on justifying one as the ‘right’ way over another? All these questions without definitive answers (though they may be gospel truths to some of the art’s instructors) lead to another question, which kung fu students and instructors should perhaps be asking above all others: is Wing Chun falling into the trap of overengineering itself or complicating the art that’s strength has always been simplification?

Another point of contention is the various differences in the forms and dummy forms, but what may fail to understand – and potentially handicap themselves in the process – is that ‘different’ does not equate to ‘wrong’. When cross-training, good information does not have to replace other good information, it can simply add value. To master any art, you must make it your own. While the hand and arm formations of bong-sau, tan-sau, etc. may look different and even be applied differently by various Wing Chun schools, each version has its reason for existence and better understanding these through practice can only aid our development. To take each form literally is to ignore other potentially useful possibilities.

Variations are in everything and everywhere you look, so why not in Wing Chun? These variations may be a result of adapting the basic form to better suit individuals – a natural survival mechanism. There is no doubt past, present and future generations will interpret the principles according to their needs and their perception of reality. I’m sure the Wing Chun practised today is different to that practised by the legendary Chinese woman after whom the style was named.

The beauty of the art is that it’s based on universal principles, and you choose to express them accordingly. This conceptual focus should enhance Wing Chun’s ability to evolve and be timeless.

All the debates happening among Wing Chun followers should be driven by questions of pragmatism, not lineage. In assessing what you or others do, ask yourself: is it a biomechanically (natural) simple movement? Is it direct? Is it practical/functional? Is it based on a foundation requiring minimal power and recruiting body structure so as not to rely on brute strength and size? Your ultimate test will be whether you can stop the hit or deflect it, and if not, what you can do instead (e.g. duck and weave).

Bear in mind, though, in assessing these things you must take into account your own current level of skill and experience – no matter what some instructors might say to sell their style, no martial art holds the promise of a ‘magic bullet’. This is also true when assessing another style; you cannot judge any system, especially one as tactile as Wing Chun, unless you feel and experience it for yourself.

Beware of anything that nullifies analytical thinking. To close you mind and your hand will only create limitations and blind you to the core commonalities that all Wing Chun practitioners share. To improve and promote Wing Chun, we must stay away from the politics and work together to validate what we know and what we don’t know. Too many are busy critiquing other systems – of which their only experience is often a YouTube clip or a brief seminar – instead of learning. You may or may not agree with another’s interpretation of the art, but respect their right to have one, and more importantly, consider how they reached their interpretation rather than being dismissive of it.

Anything less and we’re killing Wing Chun, not preserving it.