Forms – “kata” in Japanese; “taoulu” in Chinese; and “poomsae”, “hyung”, and “tul” in Korean – are supposed to be the spirit of the martial art. The “art” in martial arts is a double-entendre, and some folks truly put the “art” into martial arts.
Forms are supposed to have more than artistic meaning. In fact, they’re supposed to have anything BUT an artistic meaning. Done properly, the performer (aka, “artist”) should convey the meaning or application of the form, or its parts. In other words, it’s about interpretation. (Remind me again, how is this any different from a typical artist’s job??) Through forms, the martial artist should really be putting the “martial” in martial arts.
History
Taekwondo’s history is cloudy and fiercely debated. The system of hand and foot techniques and its poomsae are unequivocally new. The system was named Taekwondo in 1955, a mere 60-odd years ago. But its techniques are very old – and not necessarily Korean (or Chinese or Japanese or any culture). Now, the essence of Kukkiwon Taekwondo evolves (some say devolves?) toward competition, but one cannot escape the disconnect between sparring and poomsae.
Although today we practice the Taeguek family of forms, they do replace an older under-belt set of forms called Palgwe, which loosely resemble Shotokan Karate kata (a Japanese term that we in Taekwondo use for poomsae). Considering that many of the founders of the original kwans which now form Kukkiwon Taekwondo had influences from Shotokan, this isn’t exactly surprising. The older Shotokan kata are unequivocally built with self-defense techniques in mind. According to Kukkiwon’s textbook and website, the Taeguek family of forms more closely represent sparring (!)
Yet in studying Kukkiwon Taekwondo forms, one notes a significant lack of “application”, whether to sparring or to self-defense. Not that there isn’t any, at least for self-defense. But it’s not described in the official website, or in the official textbook. And it’s not even described in non-official books. It’s like… nobody is even talking about it. What’s more, most of the techniques used in poomsae are useless or illegal in sparring. And what we do in sparring is not at all represented in poomsae. Kukkiwon has a lot of explaining to do to make the connection between poomsae and sparring. I do not see it at all.
Application and Analysis
When we study Kukkiwon Taekwondo forms, particularly Taeguek and the 9 yudanja black belt forms, we are told of “application of techniques”. This is mentioned in both the Kukkiwon-approved textbook, and on Kukkiwon’s website. There isn’t anything that covers all of each form’s application – a significant omission in my opinion. It turns out one can learn to perform all eight of the Taeguek forms in just a couple of weeks and be reasonably proficient in demonstrating them, so it stands to reason that Kukkiwon Poomsae are meant to be interpreted as they are: what you see is what you get, or as we say in computer parlance, WYSIWYG. Indeed, that is often how they are taught and tested: If you can remember the form and do the techniques within them properly, you pass. I’ve been studying Taekwondo for 40 years now, and no school, competition, or seminar has ever discussed application.
It seems to me that the powers that decided to put the forms together either had no idea of the application behind the concept of poomsae, or they dismissed the idea altogether as being “too Japanese”. In the former case, having no idea, it means their instruction was lacking. Considering that the Japanese did not have a very high regard for the Koreans during their occupation, this is plausible. In both the former and latter cases, it should be noted that the Chinese did have a concept of bunkai and oyo, so it stands to reason that dismissing the idea of application and analysis as being too Japanese makes this argument less plausible.
Whatever the case, the fact that there is not a section in the Kukkiwon site or textbook dedicated to application or analysis proves that bunhae is not important to the Koreans. Whether application was a foundation for the forms, or was an afterthought, that is another matter, and is often debated. Nevertheless, there is lots still missing. It turns out that one way to figure out the application of a form’s techniques is to dissect the form, and then apply some imagination as to how it can be used. The Japanese do this using a process they call “bunkai” and “oyo“. Perhaps, that was intended for Kukkiwon forms?
Perhaps Japanese influence on the Korean founders of Taekwondo was not so great that the Koreans had an acute understanding of kata in the same way their Japanese instructors did, and that either the Japanese instructors did not regard their Korean students very highly, or their students did not understand, or their students did not stick around long enough to be taught. It’s anyone’s guess, and there are many theories. And anyway, one can also argue that the Japanese themselves didn’t have as good an understanding of application, or bunkai, as the Okinawans did.
One principle about Japanese kata is that they have numerous hidden, or alternative, techniques. In Japanese, the WYSIWYG part of the applications are the omote bunkai – the obvious bunkai. A punch is a punch. The other bunkai is the ura bunkai – the stuff they don’t teach you much about. These are the alternative – sometimes called “hidden” – applications. These are techniques that could be used in different ways. A “low block”, for instance, can be a throw (koshinage – a kind of hip throw). This explains why some techniques – like the low block – are nearly always executed in a front stance. It isn’t that this technique can’t be done from other stances, but in order for a koshinage to work properly, it requires a good solid foundation. When this technique needs to be employed as a low block, then of course it can be used in any stance. So it takes years to master even the basic forms, just to understand the nuances of each technique and its many applications.
Actually, I don’t really like the phrase “hidden technique”, despite its widespread use; nor do I hold belief that they are hidden due to some political infrastructure prohibiting use of some techniques. In my opinion, techniques can be used in many ways, of course, but the easy path is sufficient for the beginner: this is a block, this is a strike, this is a kick. Nothing more, nothing less. Perhaps, the Korean masters thought the same. Truthfully, no Korean master I have ever trained with seemed to care about such details, and so perhaps this is how I inherited my feelings on the subject.
It would seem that the Korean founders applied no such concept to their forms. Low blocks, for instance, are nearly always performed in a front stance, and the front stance’s narrow girth clearly does not allow for proper foundation for a throw. So a low block is really just that: a block to a low strike.
And if you read the Kukkiwon textbook or the website, a low block is just that: a low block. This is odd: blocking in self-defense is taboo. Blocking necessarily requires the attacker-strength-vs-defender-strength scenario. If the Taekwondo practitioner is stronger, then the block can win. Otherwise, the block loses. Blocking should be a last resort – and last resort techniques are definitely not something beginners should be taught, or they’ll turn out to be the first resort techniques used.
Whether the Korean founders weren’t exposed to the concept of bunkai, or they didn’t understand, or maybe they just didn’t care, it’s hard to tell. Okinawan and Japanese martial art masters of the day were notorious for closely guarding their philosophies and teachings, and so it’s not unreasonable to think they did not want to expose these ideas to any but their most trusted students. For many Korean students of Karate who would later become founders of the various “kwans”, there is no evidence that this ever happened. Even many who published memoirs or autobiographies simply stated they “trained under Ginchin Funakoshi”, etc, but never really elaborated on what that really meant. Nevertheless, the forms are taught today in WYSIWYG format – what-you-see-is-what-you-get. No hidden techniques. Not even the Kukkiwon textbook (or the website, which borrows from the textbook) explains anything about hidden or alternative techniques. There are brief explanations about the more mundane aspects of each form; however, a great many techniques – actually, a majority – are left out. The intended purpose could have been meant as an exercise for the student to apply his or her own application. But this just doesn’t seem likely.
In order to study further whether or not there are any hidden (or rather, “alternative”) techniques, one can refer back to history, and from there we start with the Palgwe forms, which are derived from Japanese kata. From there, we can look to actual Japanese kata. The Japanese have numerous books on the subject, and there are often debates, discussions, and seminars just on the very concept of bunkai.
Taekwondo has no modern concept of bunkai, more appropriately called “bunhae” in Korean. Bunhae is only a recent concept – after the fact. One must still look to the Japanese to find the hidden techniques and then retrofit the hidden techniques to each form’s techniques.
So let’s attempt to apply our own bunhae to poomsae. Bunhae is the analysis of a form. We examine the possible applications to discover how the techniques can be used in different ways. It is thus we discover the “hidden” or alternative techniques.
First, let’s establish some ground rules.
Number one, what we do in the ring is not recommended on the street: some techniques, like high or jumping kicks, can get you killed. Number two, what we do on the street in self-defense is not recommended in the ring: some techniques, like throat strikes, can kill. At the least, they are generally illegal techniques with no or negative point value. So, I would submit that the forms’ applications were modified to represent sparring applications is utter nonsense. I know, I’m only a lowly 4th degree in Kukkiwon Taekwondo. And the 9th degree doctorates who gathered to produce what is now the website and textbook collectively established what I label as “nonsense” makes me appear pretentious. I get it. Maybe I am. But hear me out first.
Rule two: There are no such things as multiple opponents. Perform your forms with the notion you are aware of multiple opponents – this affects your eyeline and attitude – but don’t perform them and explain them in the context of multiple opponents. Multiple opponents do not take their time to attack you. Don’t assume this is the case in your forms.
Rule three: The forms are guidelines for your self-defense. Hand position changes with events that occur in real-time. Eyeline, duration of technique, directionality, and even sequence of technique are not necessarily written in stone. The forms are not absolute. Practice them as if they are, and be rigid in their performance, but don’t be so rigid in their application. Think outside the box. For this reason, it is necessary to practice the forms with no more amount of practice dedicated to the analysis of the forms. Otherwise, your execution of techniques in actual self-defense will be done according to the rigidity of your training – and that wasn’t meant to be.
That’s it. For now. Three simple rules. There are others we can cover along the way, but these I value above all others. I didn’t make them up, this is simple common sense.
It not exactly a secret that Kukkiwon Taekwondo is all about sparring. There is a disconnect between forms and sparring. Just where are the sparring techniques in the forms? The fancy kicks, like the tornado roundhouse, or the jumping reverse side kick? What about the front leg kicks? What about the reverse side kick or even the basic axe kick? Or Taekwondo’s signature spin kick? Or even the lowly roundhouse kick? How about the stepping motions – like the slides, lateral steps, hops, and switch stances? Why isn’t there any concept of timing in the forms (technically, timing is left for the practitioner’s own style. But it seems rare for sparring-style timing to be applied to poomsae; just look at any champion-grade poomsae competition, and you’ll note an odd similarity between all of the competitors in this regard, and none apply any sort of sparring concept to their style.) It turns out, there just isn’t any of this.
Note, for example, in Kukkiwon Taekwondo, that all of the stances are compressed. The forward stance requires 2 foot lengths apart between heel to toe, and the insides of the feet should touch a straight line. (The newer guidelines suggest a knee-covers-toe algorithm, which is much better and allows taller folks to compete properly. The problem is that the new guidelines allow to perform techniques the old way, and new judges in competition are keen to this and will deduct points. Looks like they giveth and taketh away?) If I do this technique (the 2 foot length way) in this manner, I feel like I’m standing on a surf board. Ok, this is reminiscent of Chinese Kung Fu styles, another influence on the original Kwan founders. But this is a recent change, not something inherited from old-school. I am unsure whether the Chinese had any particular measurement for the foot distance. At any rate, this isn’t exactly a position I want to be in when defending myself. The Chinese have their reasons and their own bunkai for this, but it doesn’t seem to manifest in Korean-style Kukkiwon Taekwondo. In fact, shorter people tend to exhibit better balance than taller folks, since taller folks’ centers of gravity are disproportionatly higher than shorter folks’. It used to be that the forward stance was as wide as the shoulders; now, it’s a third of the width. It used to be that the forward stance’s stride was such that the bent knee just covered the toes from eyseight, while the back knee remained locked. In this manner, the old way gave extraordinary stability, but at the expense of not being able to move as quickly.
Part of the reason this was done can be found in the Taekwondo textbook authorized by Kukkiwon. It is a deliberate move to sacrifice balance and stability for speed of movement – ostensibly for sparring. They don’t stipulate for sparring or self-defense, but if we apply bunhae to the patterns, we see why these compressed stances can only apply to sparring.
But then, why use the odd techniques that are not applicable to sparring, like the stances previously mentioned, or the knife or mountain blocks? Or backfist?
Connection to self-defense
Conversely, why do we have mountain blocks in poomsae? Why do we have crane, tiger, cat, and horse stances? (Oddly, these are the only techniques, except one other, named after an animal – a strange anomaly whereby an eastern ideology (applying names of animals to martial techniques) is used uniquely in the west; the Koreans give names to these techniques that are what they are and not after animals) These are not used in sparring at all. In fact, given the curriculum of current Taekwondo techniques, I can’t fathom their use in self-defense, either, as we’ll see in a moment. Knifehand blocks? They are not strong enough to block a kick, and their intended purpose is to grab – the very thing not allowed in sparring. We chamber punches either to counter the punch with the other hand (ostensibly for more power), and also for a pull (which is illegal in sparring), yet why are they in forms for an art style meant for sparring? Why do we punch at all, if punches are rarely scored?
It seems clear to me that when they changed the forms and moved toward a sparring-centric curriculum, that they didn’t have a plan in place for forms. And it doesn’t seem that the policy responsible for the changes even gave a hoot about the hidden techniques. At the very least, one wonders why Kukkiwon Taekwondo dropped the self-defense aspect of its curriculum and kept for the forms. If they had kept the self-defense (which, by the way, is not officially part of any dan grading!), or instead, they had more sparring-centric poomsae, then things would make a little more sense.
Sparring strategy relies heavily on rhythm, stamina, and technique. Self defense strategy relies on simplicity and ending the situation quickly. Very different ideologies, and the forms embrace only the self-defense strategy. This is unusual, given the lack of self-defense curriculum.
The forms are only 25 movements long, on average. This is in line with the idea that self-defense should end quickly, lest the encounter evolve into a fight. Yet, sparring is supposed to last longer than a few minutes, and it’s not unusual for a single round to use over a hundred techniques.
One can learn any Taeguek or Palgwe forms in their gross movements in under an hour – enough time to go home, lock it into the brain, and show up for the next class to polish it up. For many schools, once the student demonstrates the form without making a technical mistake, they’re ready to test. So it is common to see students who are adept at performing forms can easily bounce from belt to belt very quickly.
Perhaps, if more emphasis on bunhae were required, or there were more movements, or the forms had to be done with pristine perfection, then maybe we wouldn’t see students testing every 3 months. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea for a student to not only demonstrate the form, but to verbally assess the application – bunhae – of the form.
In the end, perhaps there isn’t anything “wrong” with Kukkiwon forms. I don’t agree they they’re sparring-centric, as Kukkiwon suggests. I do think that in some cases, the movements don’t always make a lot of sense. This will be the basis of other blog posts.
