When the Syracuse Wing Chun Academy opened in my adopted hometown, I knew precious little about Wing Chun Kung Fu specifically or the Chinese Martial Arts (CMA) in general.  I had vague ideas that Wing Chun was associated with lowline kicks, locked elbows, and traditionalism.  I knew that Bruce Lee had studied Wing Chun before coming to the United States and that he had criticized it as too "rigid."  That, however, was the extent of my knowledge -- apart from an overwhelming desire to study the art.

I have my lovely wife to thank for my involvement with the Syracuse Wing Chun Academy.  She was reading the paper one September evening when she noticed an article I missed, detailing the new martial arts school opening in the city.  Moments after she showed me the article, I was on the phone to Sifu Anthony Iglesias.

Phil Elmore (left) and Sifu Anthony Iglesias

I have since heard Sifu Iglesias speak with countless prospective students on the phone.  I would give a lot to be able to hear a recording of my first conversation with him.  Endlessly friendly and amazingly patient, Sifu Iglesias insists that his students call him simply "Anthony."  A veteran martial artist with years of experience in multiple styles (including White Crane Kung Fu and Western Boxing), Anthony was clear from the outset regarding what he expected from his school and his students.

"I don't believe in attacking other styles or lineages," he told me on the phone, something he has since reiterated in many classes.  "We do not limit ourselves.  It's all Wing Chun and we will study it all to learn what will benefit us in our training.  If you meet someone who studies Wing Chun, don't start comparing lineages.  Be happy to have met a fellow student and leave it at that."

The destructive politics of Wing Chun, particular the lineage disputes in Hong Kong, are well known in martial circles.  Often, practitioners from the William Cheung and Leung Ting lineages do not get along, for example.  Cheung teaches "Traditional Wing Chun," and it is primarily in his lineage that Anthony teaches (though he remains open to other lineages and frequently provides examples of how students of those lineages do techniques differently).  There are indeed stylistic differences between the Cheung lineage, "Classical Wing Chun," Ving Tsun or Wing Tsun, and countless other permutations of spelling and lineage for this Chinese art.  The differences range from the way the three empty-hand Wing Chun forms are performed, to the positioning of the hands and arms for certain techniques, to the way (and to what degree of precision) footwork is executed.

Sifu Iglesias demonstrates a wooden dummy form for the class.

I had more than one e-mail conversation with Sifu Iglesias before the school opened and was confident that I was dealing with someone who had a great attitude and outlook on the martial arts.  We talked, among other things, of the need for a "core" martial art -- possessing a system on which to build, as opposed to taking the "buffet" approach to the arts that had been my preference for the last decade.  It was a relatively warm evening in early October when Anthony held a gathering at the school to welcome new students and to meet with friends and acquaintances who wished him well in his new business venture.

The event was well-attended by current and former students of Sifu Iglesias, who previously taught at Syracuse's Fu Shaung Temple with Sifu Danny Hammond.  (The Fu Shaung, where various types of Kung Fu were taught, is now closed).  Sifu Hammond gave the new facility a traditional Buddhist blessing.  Sifu Iglesias spent the evening mingling and speaking, as animated as ever, about Wing Chun and his plans for the school.

It was that night that I acquired my first piece of Wing Chun knowledge:  the purpose of the mook jong, the wooden dummy.  For years I've wanted a wooden dummy of my own, with vague ideas about hitting the thing the way one sees in certain Kung Fu movies.  I learned that first night, however, that the wooden dummy is not a punching bag or a makiwara board (though it can be used for limited conditioning of the arms).  The dummy is used for training one's structure, for developing speed and accuracy while perfecting the positioning of one's body.  Any Kung Fu practitioner who'll brag to you about breaking the arms off the dummy, by contrast, obviously doesn't know what he or she is doing.  (Anyone can break the arms off a traditional dummy if they try.)

The author and the wooden dummy (right, if you wondered).

My footwork, which had always been somewhat sloppy, came under the scrutiny of Sifu Iglesias in the coming weeks and months.  I found Wing Chun footwork to be very precise and very demanding.  The pigeon-toed horse stance in which training occurs (it is not a fighting stance) caused me great discomfort at first, but I learned over time that this stance helps develop the muscles (and the instincts) to properly perform the footwork we do use for fighting.  For weeks we began every class by running through a list of footwork exercises, from simple left to right stance transitions to "inside bracing" and "outside bracing" moves.  We performed circle steps, triangle steps, side steps, and a long list of others, all while under Anthony's watchful eye. 

Sifu Iglesias instructs students on proper positioning for front steps.

A music teacher and guitarist with years of experience (Anthony, who is something of a "Renaissance man," performs in a Dave Matthews tribute band called One Sweet World), Sifu Iglesias is no stranger to teaching as such.  He is firm but encouraging, persistent without nagging.  He'll quickly point out serious errors but refrain from badgering a student who is trying (but not yet successfully) to master a new technique or posture, saving refinements for follow-up classes.

Wing Chun has three empty-hand forms -- what I think of as physical catalogs of techniques, used both to train one's structure and to remind one of the techniques used in the art.  The first form, sil lim tao ("little big idea") is the form taught to all beginning students, the foundation for Wing Chun.  It involves no footwork other than a transition to the horse stance.  (Footwork is covered in later forms.)  The second and third forms are chum kil ("seeking the bridge") and bil jee ("thrusting fingers).

One of things for which I developed an immediate dislike in training was chi sao, the "sticky hands" exercise in which Wing Chun students develop the touch reflexes for which their infighting system is known.  "Chi Sao is important," Anthony told me.  "It is the standard by which other schools will judge you.  After you've done it for a while you'll start to like it and you'll understand better what it's for.  I know you don't believe me right now, Phil.  Just trust me."

 
Sifu Iglesias and his senior student, Don Jennings, practice chi sao.

There are different chi sao drills. I started with single hand chi sao, for example, which followed a very set pattern of movements. One student holds his hand in tahn sao, the "dispersing hand." Another holds his same-side hand and arm in fook sao, the "hooking" or "subduing" hand. The student holding a tahn sao executes jing jiang, a palm strike.  The student holding fook sao turns the "hooking hand" into a jut sao, the "jerking hand." He then delivers a vertical punch and the other student uses bon sao, the "wing arm," to stop the punch from striking him in the head. This is done repeatedly.

As we progressed we learned to "run" -- that is, to circle around tightly and strike when the other student exerted pressure that he or she should not be exerting. In this way, sensitivity to the opponent's movements -- his or her "energy" directed toward you -- is developed.

After that came cross-arm chi sao, which starts out from a position that reminds me of the Bruce Lee and John Saxon fight scenes during the competition bouts in Enter the Dragon. The goal of each student is to deliver a light strike from that position while preventing the other student from doing the same, using a variety of hand techniques -- lop sao to pull the other student's hand out of the way while delivering a strike, for example. Cross-arm chi sao feels a lot more like actually sparring someone, whereas the simpler single-arm chi sao really bored me at first.

 
Students at SWCA practice a cross-arm chi sao drill.

The importance of chi sao drills was driven home to me during an exercise with Sifu Iglesias involving knives.  Using a rubber knife, I attacked him, while he sought to check my elbows to stop me and counter my attack.  At one point his initial block of my strike missed.  His chi sao sensitivity training allowed him to counter immediately and stop me from "stabbing" him without conscious thought on his part.  He sensed the "energy" of my missed incoming attack and he reacted accordingly.

Another technique associated with Wing Chun (and also with Bruce Lee, though many people don't realize that his use of the technique came from Wing Chun) is the "one-inch punch."  The one-inch punch is a function of structure -- of learning to align your body's "gates" for maximum strength on the punching side. The leg, hip, and arm line up in a specific manner to take advantage of the body's mechanics in imparting power to the target.

A typical one-inch punch drill starts with students pressing their vertical fists against a wall or other immovable object. The right knee bends and the right hip comes forward as the body twists sharply into the punch. The left leg stays fairly straight (though if you try this you'll see you can't help but bend it a little). When the students start pushing themselves away from the wall and feel discomfort in their hands, they know they're doing it right.

Moving on, the students strike focus pads held by other students. A third student stands behind the punching pair to stop the pad-holder from falling backward. Tremendous power is generated by such punches, both in "pushing power" and "impact power" techniques.

Students practice their punching using focus mitts.

The first time I did this drill in Wing Chun, my pad-holder was a very tall, thin young fellow. I am the heaviest student in class, easily outweighing my instructor by a hundred pounds. Even doing the drill with imperfect mechanics, you must understand that the majority of your weight is on the punching side (where it should be).

I sent the young man flying backwards quite spectacularly -- so much so that he switched with someone heavier the next time it was my turn. This wasn't because I'm some ham-fisted gorilla (though the charge has been made) but because of the structure with which the punch is performed.

We do another relevant drill in Wing Chun -- a footwork drill called the "shifting horse." This looks a lot like walking: as the left foot comes forward at an angle, the body shifts on the right heel as the right fist comes forward in a punch. Then the right foot comes forward as the left foot shifts on the heel and the left fist comes forward in a punch. This helps develop Wing Chun punching.

With practice, the one- and no-inch punches can be done relatively instinctively. If you learn to punch with your body aligned a certain way, after all, that's how you'll do it.

Wing Chun has two weapons forms, including the Baat Jaam Do (butterfly swords).  The butterfly swords are used in pairs and are characterized by wide, cutting blades and prominent D-guards.  They are, in fact, quite similar to what people picture when they think of "bowie knives," though the blade shape does not incorporate the clip-point.  (Sifu Iglesias is pictured at right with his Hanwei butterfly swords, which grace the altar area of the Academy.)  I am nowhere near the point in my training where I would be learning the Baat Jaam Do form, but weapons training is not neglected at the Syracuse Wing Chun Academy.

An avid student of the Filipino Martial Arts who works closely with other instructors, Sifu Iglesias incorporates stick- and knife-fighting training in his curriculum (as well as defenses to impact weapons and even firearms).  As a knife enthusiast who also appreciates stick fighting applications, I was extremely pleased to be able to continue training formally in these methods while also training in Wing Chun.

  
The author learns a pattern drill with rattan sticks.

 Wing Chun, as I've come to realize, is an extremely effective close-quarter fighting system.  The principles of Wing Chun -- protecting the centerline, refusing to fight force with force, using two hands at the same time, using touch reflexes, etc. -- are extremely sound and would complement the practice of almost any other style.  Far from being the "rigid" and "too classical" system described by Bruce Lee in his more negative moments (Lee actually held his Wing Chun instructors in very high regard and boasted of their fighting abilities), Wing Chun is actually an extremely dynamic and efficient art.  Relatively straight forward, it can be taught quickly by the standards of Kung Fu styles and produces [more] effective fighters in a matter of months.

The author, proud to be a Wing Chun practicioner.

"Without the root," Sifu Iglesias sometimes quotes, "there is no tree."  Wing Chun is a superb root system -- a traditional art on which a variety of cross-training can be based to the benefit of the student.  It also stands alone as a complete system for practical, effective self-protection.  I have been very blessed to discover Wing Chun in the course of my training.