You got your art on my martial! No, you got your martial in my art!

     Many years ago (even slightly before my time) someone was tasked with the creation of a new advertising campaign for the confectionery wonder than is Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. As a child, I actually didn't much appreciate these delicacies, but in my maturity I have come to recognize their genius. The marketing idea that came to pass for this marvelous blend of sweet and salty goodness was both simple and brilliant.  It created a perfectly simple scenario in which two people who loved an individual tasty treat would, through an accident of fate, come to realize that both things together can be even better. The rest, as they say, is history.  There were many commercials over the course of several years that followed the same pattern, but you can view what is possibly the earliest below.

In this clip, we see the principal participants move through several stages of development.  The initial response is one of surprise, shock, and disappointment. The disappointment turns quickly to revulsion. However, once each of them tries their newly created combination, there is an additional surprise that comes with acceptance and delight as they come to understand that this new and innovative combination is something good.  Much the same thing is actually happening in the martial arts world as well.  Unfortunately, it seems that many of us have been unable to get past the stage of shock, disappointment, and revulsion.  

     No matter what we do or how we present ourselves and our chosen path, there will always be a group that values the artistic side of what we do above the perceived violent nature of the martial side.  There will always be a group that moves away from real-world application and self defense and toward emphasis of movement, stance, positioning, athleticism, performance, and beauty. In short, this group seeks to preserve everything that is "art" without worrying about, exploring, or in some cases even acknowledging, the "martial." This idea is exemplified through much of today's "traditional" martial arts competitions, and has been carefully and meticulously nurtured in some (though not all) forms of contemporary wushu, in which performances are judged much like gymnastics, figure skating, or diving.  This movement has likely reached its apex in the United States with the development and proliferation of XMA, or Extreme Martial Arts, in which acrobatics, dance, and feats of gymnastic skill have been added in order to play up the aspect of showmanship in order to draw more attention from an audience.  The skills of the practitioners of these styles are undoubtedly impressive, and much of what they demonstrate could be applied to fighting or self defense, but those aspects are ignored in order to create a better show. Truthfully, in may ways, these systems have become more of a performance art than a martial art.  While these forms of individual expression have removed much of the real-world fighting and martial application from what they do, there has been an equally strong (or even stronger) movement against this way of thinking, in which many decry the development of "flash over substance."
     There has been a steady increase, particularly within the last ten to twenty years with the rise of technology and online media, toward the "bringing back" or "rediscovery" of the myriad of martial applications present in traditional or classical martial arts styles.  Internet websites and Youtube videos abound that are dedicated to sharing effective applications of traditional techniques. Proponents of this movement believe that traditional martial arts are not lacking in effectiveness, but have been "watered down" over years of ineffective and unimaginative teaching.  Personally, while I believe that this resurgence of  martial value in what we do as traditional martial artists is mostly a very good thing, I also believe that it can be taken too far.  I guess I blame Bruce Lee.

Well, not really, but we'll get to that.  I do realize that I'm walking on dangerous ground by challenging the "legend" that is Bruce Lee...but that's exactly what I intend to do: challenge the legend, not the man, nor the martial artist.  

     Bruce Lee was one of the first prominent figures in the martial arts world to encourage doing away with strict adherence to traditional styles. He believed that martial artists should expose themselves to as many styles as possible, absorbing what is useful from each, while discarding anything that was not effective, and thus deemed not useful. Lee believed that developing oneself as a martial artist was akin to creating the perfect sculpture, starting with a lump of clay, and through the removal of the unneeded parts, one would eventually arrive at a finished piece, including only that which was readily effective in a combative situation. He referred to this process as Jeet Kune Do. In essence, Bruce Lee was one of the first proponents of removing "flash" or "flowery techniques" in order to develop effectiveness or "substance."  This concept is wonderful in theory, and in that it forces us to question how and why we do what we do in our own martial journeys, it is good. However, I do believe that there have been some who have misinterpreted Lee's efforts to the point at which they have so zealously pursued the "useful" and "effective" that they have actively worked to remove the "art" from martial arts. 

     It is this idea that fuels and drives the modern juggernaut that is the MMA, or Mixed Martial Arts, industry. Many (though not all) proponents and practitioners of MMA seem to advocate either the stripping away or the combining of martial arts styles in order to arrive at something that is effective in a fight above all else. Traditional practice in forms, as well as the practice of tradition itself, is often abandoned altogether.  The "art" is removed, and the "A" in MMA goes missing. With the popularity of MMA on the rise, and the popularity of Bruce Lee never truly having waned, many who practice the traditional arts have felt the need to become apologetic or defensive about what they do.  In some cases, it has even been suggested that the term "martial art" (wushu, moo sul, bugei) should be replaced with the term "martial way" (wudao, moo do, budo), and some styles, particularly those of Japanese or Okinawan origins, will swear to the fact that they practice "budo" and not "bugei."

     If we do trace this movement back to Bruce Lee, though, we must acknowledge a fact that is all too often overlooked, in my opinion.  The fact is this: Bruce Lee was only 32 years old when he died, and at that time had been actively training in the martial arts for less than 20 years.  There is no doubt that he was a phenomenal martial artist, and perhaps was even a martial arts prodigy, but we will never know how his philosophies may have changed as he grew older. I myself have been training for nearly 30 years, and as I approach 40 years of age, my understanding of martial arts is much different than it was when I was 32.  I do not even remotely believe that I have discovered everything that is "useful" in even one style, let alone many, and I therefore do not feel that I can safely discard anything.  This is not to say that I think I am in any way a better martial artist than Bruce Lee, but I do believe that we often do not realize exactly how "useful" something can be until after we have discarded it, only later realizing that we need it (or at least that we can, in fact, use it). Just because we do not understand how something is used now, that does not automatically make that thing useless. I actually think that at some level, Bruce Lee would have agreed with this, in that while he may have chosen to limit the techniques he used to what he found to be effective, he never believed in limiting the self. It is unfortunate that many who choose to quote him and  believe they follow his example have chosen to do so.

     Real-world self defense, the development of fighting skills, and the deeper understanding of martial application are all reasonable and desirable outcomes of training in the martial arts.  Aesthetic beauty, athleticism, and grace of movement are reasonable and desirable outcomes as well.  Much like the chocolate and peanut butter in the Reese's commercial, each is a tasty treat all by itself.  It is the combination, balance, and blending of the two that brings out our true potential, though. It is the study and development of both sides that makes us martial artists. The desire to eliminate the art fom the martial or the martial from the art only limits us from experiencing the benefits which come only from the synergy of both.

       After all, if we examine the qualities that make a technique "artistic" what do we find?  We find art in the blending of correct body mechanics, athleticism, the proper alignment of our musculoskeletal structure, the appropriate execution of balance, speed, and power, and the elusive quality that is "attitude" or "spirit."  If we in turn analyze what it is that makes a technique "effective", we find the exact same things that make the technique "artistic." It is only the added understanding and comprehension of how to properly apply the given technique to an attack or series of attacks in a way that works which makes the technique "martial" as well.  In only one of two ways, then, is the "art" or the "martial" removed:

1. Through intention

2. Through ignorance

Traditional martial artists must strive to combat both of the above, as each is equally detrimental to the development of a balanced martial artist. By intentionally removing the art, we remove personal expression and "spirit" as well, and we begin to remove the desire to polish the self through our training while we instead work only toward polishing the "effectiveness" and "usefulness" of or techniques. We begin to forget that all knowledge is useful.  By intentionally removing the martial, we may create something that is entertaining, impressive, and even beautiful, but in so doing we lose the ability to do more than perform or demonstrate, and the skills we develop are of no real value in resolving conflict, which is the true meaning of the word "martial" in Asian culture.  This intent is by far more difficult to combat than mere ignorance.  At least when someone genuinely doesn't know what is missing from their training, we can attempt to show, to tell, to teach, and to guide them towards discovery of his or her own ignorance.  When people stubbornly cling to their intention to keep the art out of the martial, or the martial out of the art, it seems that all we can do is stand back and wonder why they simply won't take a taste of both together. In so doing, they may discover that true Moo Sul (wushu, bugei) is Moo Do (wudao, budo).  Try it. You just might like it.

Kick. Punch. Easy Stuff.