Jo Lin

(Kai Jing speaking with LuLing about a book ... but really,... he was speaking of love...) ‘With any form of beauty, there are four levels of ability. This is true of painting, calligraphy, literature, music, dance (and tai chi). The first level is Competent. ‘We were looking at a page that showed two identical renderings of a bamboo grove, a typical painting, well done, realistic, interesting in the detail of double lines, conveying a sense of strength and longevity. ‘Competence’, he went on, ‘is the ability to draw the same thing over and over in the same strokes, with the same force, the same rhythm, the same trueness. This kind of beauty, however, is ordinary.

When I first met contact improvisation it was a little more than five years ago. It was a fatal attraction. After nearly twenty years of daily Tai Chi practice, I was already committed. But contact improvisation was new, exciting and yet familiar. I heard similar exhortations: be aware of your breathing, be grounded, shift weight, focus, use peripheral vision, experience stillness, sense the other, have a clear intention, move quickly or slowly but be soft not floppy..... Rushing home to read some books I was reminded of some other tai chi principles: listening, understanding, adhere or stick to, pull back, push forward, screw or spiral, etc. So I was hooked and began to learn contact improvisation and moving in unfamiliar spaces.... but I often resorted to familiar tai chi patterns.

‘The second level’ Kai Jing continued, ‘is Magnificent. ‘We looked together at another painting, of several stalks of bamboo. ‘This one goes beyond skill’ he said. ‘Its beauty is unique. And yet it is simpler, with less emphasis on the stalk and more on the leaves. It conveys both strength and solitude. The lesser painter would be able to capture one quality but not the other’.

Tai chi had now met contact improvisation and they were trying to establish a friendship. Solo work is central to tai chi, but partnering (“push hands”) is also a part of the practice for some people. Tai chi was used to sinking low and maintaining balance. Contact improvisation said it was okay to go off balance and see what happens. Tai chi had been taught to be self-reliant and to yield to the force of another, then to redirect or dissolve it. Contact improvisation said: “Stay with it, see where it leads.” Learning contact improvisation fundamentals I would try to copy dancers and their movements, trying to make it “look right”. Sometimes I got a headache out of it! Slowly I began to learn to trust ... myself and other people. Tai chi push hands is traditionally combatative, a fighting form. Contact improvisation practice is (usually!) collaborative and intimate.

Bronwyn Lin self taught Tai Chi age 2, 1979. Photo Libby Lumb

He turned the page. This painting was of a single stalk of bamboo. ‘The third level is Divine,’ he said. ‘The leaves are now shadows blown by an invisible wind, and the stalk is there mostly by suggestion of what is missing. And yet the shadows are more alive than the original leaves that obscured the light. A person seeing this would be wordless to describe how this is done. Try as he might, the same painter could never again capture the feeling of this painting, only a shadow of a shadow.’

When with contact improvisation, I am excited and sometimes forget the tai chi saying: “relaxation within and without”. Helen Clarke Lapin once reminded us not to grip the floor with our toes. How did she know I was doing that? Tai chi was used to smooth and soft flow. Continuous flow of movement, fast or slow. Contact improvisation said: “Yeah, I know that!” Contact improvisation and tai chi both recognize the centredness that gives stability, but contact improvisation seems to allow the point of balance to be held by another person?

I love the waiting in both tai chi and contact improvisation. In tai chi push hands one waits for the other person to initiate movement. In both there is a close listening to the body of the other person. For me contact improvisation waiting is an acknowledgement of the other person: “How are you? Where are you at? What do you want to do?” It is also a time to ask oneself “Where am I now? How am I? etc” (Sara Chesterman has just reminded me). All done in silence, often in stillness.

‘How could beauty be more than divine?’ (LuLing) murmured, knowing that (she) would soon learn the answer. ‘The fourth level,’ Kai Jing said, ‘is greater than this, and it is in each mortal nature to find it. We can sense it only if we do not try to sense it. It occurs without motivation or desire or knowledge of what may result. It is pure. It is what innocent children have. It is what old masters regain once they have lost their minds and become children again.’

He turned the page. On the next was an oval. ‘This painting is called Inside the Middle of a Bamboo Stalk. The oval is what you see if you are looking up or looking down. It is the simplicity of being within, no reason or explanation for being there. It is the natural wonder that anything exists in relation to another, an inky oval to a white paper. A person to a bamboo stalk, the viewer to a painting.’

Kai Jing was quiet for a long time. ‘This fourth level is called Effortless,’ he said at last. He put the booklet back in his jacket and looked at me thoughtfully. ‘Recently I have felt this beauty of Effortlessness in all things,’ he said. ‘How about you?’ ‘Its the same for me,’ I said, and began to cry.

Contact improvisation and tai chi are both teaching me about simplicity. I remember our daughters when they were young. Spontaneous connections, strong intentional contact. Watching experienced tai chi and contact improvisation people moving is to see the beauty, ease and effortlessness of connection, within and without.

From time to time at the Cooper Park jams in Sydney we have been using Tai Chi and Qi Gong as a warm up to contact. People say this has been good to centre oneself. We have also been using simple push hands exercises as a prelude to contact. Shifting weight, sensing the other person etc. I must confess that I have broken with tai chi tradition by introducing pushing hands to people who do not know the tai chi forms. Most people certainly haven’t carried water for five years before beginning to learn the forms! (tai chi joke!). But to see the sensitivity of contact improvisation people doing push hands is to glimpse a high level of beauty.

For we both knew we were speaking about the effortlessness with which one falls in love without intending to, as if we were two stalks of bamboo bent toward each other by chance of the wind. And we bent toward each other and kissed, lost in the nowhere of being together.

A duet between Jo and his niece Ada, witnessed by Joanna. Photo Jennie Lin

References
Amy Tan (2001) The Bonesetter’s Daughter, p.211