Wing Chun may be the most ironic martial art. For all the style's effective simplicity, it is enveloped in an intricate realm of controversy. There are several lineages that claim flawless fidelity to the true system, while others offer that their modifications, enhancements and refinements have improved wing chun to make it more effective, practical and applicable today. The curious martial artist interested in wing chun would learn after just a little research that the chorus of commentary surrounding the art is far more complex than wing chun itself. Where does on begin? Who is right? Are terms like "authentic" and "original" valid? Or do term like "modified" and "improved" offer more intrigue? After a silence that for many suggested he was unwilling to contend with rival kung-fu philosophies, wing chun grandmaster Ip Ching has become increasingly willing to share his many decades of experience and insight. As a son of Ip Man, arguably the heart and soul of classic wing chun, Ip Ching has had to fend off ceaseless challenges - both physical and theoretical - to his father's art. His previous strategy, as if culled directly from Sun Tzu, was simply to avoid direct conflict with the challengers. He simply refused to match the negative energy of those who would call traditional wing chun outdated or obsolete. His mindset? Continue training, improve skill, and let others talk themselves silly. Critics have called this focus "indifference". They may be surprised to know that it is really a kind of patient acceptance that has fueled the grandmaster's silence. It was over dim sun in Chicago's Chinatown that my sifu, master Philip Nearing, master Samuel Kwok of Blackpool, England, and master Eric Li of Vancouver, British Columbia, and I heard the observations of the grandmaster directly. Speaking through the interpretations of sifu Li and master Kwok, the grandmaster spoke with candor as direct as a centerline punch. When I asked how he regards the whirlwind of modified styles and criticism that surround classical wing chun, I expected at least a touch of irritation. Would he redress critics, debunking their perspective with a few choice words? Not at all. Rather, he merely wants to ensure that original wing chun, which is to say that lineage which extends back to his father, Ip Man, shares the same regard that its more outspoken, or enthusiastically marketed derivations have. "This discussion," he began, "has actually been going on for a long time. It began in earnest just the years after the death of my father." He explained how may "spokesmen" stepped into the void left bye the passing of Ip Man. And as most wing chun practitioners know, there are many relatively new ideas advocated by those who feel they've improved on original wing chun, whether it's through a subtle change in foot position, a different trajectory on the punch, ideas about the generation of internal energy, or any number of notions both plausible and absurd. Could anyone then claim to be a genuine heir? Did any wing chun derivations really possess the most intrinsic martial value? To my astonishment, the grandmaster explained the determining what makes the best kung-fu does not lie with a teacher, regardless of how many years of experience he has. Who determines good kun-fu, he explained patiently, are the students. "If a technique works, it will be approved by the next generation," he said. "Of you have an idea, and think it will work in concept, principle and theory, as well as application, then you must learn how effective it really is. If it does not work, people will simply not accept it." Such straightforward measurement of how techniques work explains why wing chun could flourish for well over 500 years. That several strains of wing chun continue to thrive is testament to the fact that refinements are working, but it also demonstrates that original wing chun remains rock-solid in its application and dissemination. The grandmaster offered this example: "In the '50s, the jum sau was compared thoroughly to the gan sau in terms of which was better for various situations. Countless exchanges and hours of training proved the gan sau a better block in many cases. Therefore, teaching the gan sau replaced teaching the jum sau to suit the need." The ultimate measurement of effectiveness, for the grandmaster, must be the student. If a modification really is better, it will be approved by the next generation. If it does not work, it has no foundation, and fades. Plainly put in the grandmaster's words, "a technique can adapt if it is accepted. But if you cannot pass it on, you are studying to be outdated." As for concerns of students being skeptical of new ideas, the grandmaster was again direct. "if it works, it will be accepted. If it is accepted, it will be passed on." Wing chun's continued effectiveness serves as a living example of the grandmaster's thinking. He bears no malice against wing chun stylists who try to deconstruct the original system. But he also radiates a confidence that the original system is as effective as ever. As for the aspiring kung-fu student wondering which strain of wing chun to pursue, the grandmaster has this advice: "Do some research. Rely on your wisdom. Then make your judgment." The notion that a student should have such confidence in his ability to evaluate an art may intimidate the beginner, but that kind of curious, skeptical mind drives the dedicated kung-fu player. Ultimately, what the authentic wing chun community wants to encourage is inclusion and recognition. When some claim "new and improved," grandmaster Ip Ching urges careful consideration. If an improvement is genuine, it will endure. If not, beware that it is gimmickry. Once a quiet voice in the kung-fu community, traditional wing chun has emerged to dispel the growing notion that it represents antiquated, ineffective techniques, or is an ancient, imperfect system requiring some contemporary polish. For proof, grandmaster Ip Ching urges, don't look to the teachers, but rather in those that they teach."


# About the Author Jay Ferrari is a student of Master Philip Nearing (Chicago) and freelance writer.