Big Sound Temple

 

Extracts taken from the bestselling From Lee to Li: An A-Z Guide of Martial Arts Heroes, published by HarperCollins 2009. All rights reserved. 

 

 

Adams, Neil

 

Born in 1958, and having started judo aged seven, Neil Adams MBE has the distinction of being Britain’s first male World Judo Champion (receiving a gold medal in 1981), as well as receiving silver medals at the 1980 and 1984 Olympic Games. His autobiography, A Life in Judo, demonstrates his fiery will to win, and hatred of losing.

Initially known for his powerful throws – particularly tai-otoshi or ‘body drop’ – his defeat to a French opponent, when aged 20, made him focus intensively on newaza, or grappling. Soon, his newaza techniques were recognised as being some of the finest in professional judo – and it was his trademark arm locks in particular that were feared by those who had to face him. (According to journalist and judo practitioner, Mark Law, in his definitive book The Pyjama Game: a Journey into Judo, any opponent of Adam’s who found himself grappling with him, would ‘…soon hear their coaches at the matside screaming warnings at them to get on their feet’.) Adams kept detailed logs concerning both his own and as his opponents’ performances, and was pushed to the very limits of physical endurance by such trainers as Brian Jacks.    

For a time the darling of the British media (due partly to his on-off relationship with Olympic swimmer Sharron Davies), Neil Adams now runs a Corporate Health Programme with his Canadian-born wife, Niki, who is herself a judo Olympian. (The pair met while they were both commentating at the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games.) At the time of writing, Adams is a seventh dan judoka (judo practitioner).

Akiyama, Yoshitoki Shirobei

 

During the seventeenth century (although some sources put the date at upto 200 years earlier), Akiyama, a Japanese physician born in Nagasaki, travelled to China in order to improve his medical knowledge. Whilst in China, however, he also studied an ancient martial art known variously as either Hakuda or Baida. Hakuda or Baida showed a practitioner the most lethal parts of the human body to strike – but also taught how it was possible to resuscitate someone from the brink of death. 

Returning to Japan armed with this new knowledge, Akiyama opened his own martial arts’ school; but his methods were generally considered to be crude and limited, and those students who joined soon left. Greatly disillusioned, Akiyama retreated to a remote shrine for 100 days to think and meditate.

Towards the end of this period of isolation, Akiyama was profoundly affected by the sight of a pine tree that – rigid and unyielding as it was – was severely damaged during a snow storm. The snow accumulated upon the branches until the sheer weight of it caused the limbs to snap. However, a nearby willow tree yielded and bent, thereby surviving the storm completely unscathed.  

This caused Akiyama to evolve a large number of what he called ‘natural movements’, and again start another martial arts’ school – this time with far greater success. He named his style yoshin-ryu, or ‘willow heart school’. 

 

Bak Mei

One of the Shaolin Temple’s semi-mythical ‘Five Elders’ (another of whom was Ng Mui), Bak Mei (translated as ‘White Eyebrows’ – surprisingly enough not his real name) achieved notoriety sometime during the early seventeenth century after he broke the Temple leader’s neck in a fight. (He is also meant to have killed several other monks while testing out the new martial art he’d evolved, which he then named after himself.) To top it all, Bak Mei purportedly betrayed the Temple to government forces, who consequently burnt it to the ground.

For these reasons, the ‘Bak Mei’ system of kung fu (which relies heavily upon close-quarter hand strikes) was traditionally reviled by practitioners of other wushu (Chinese martial arts) associated with the Shaolin Temple. Bak Mei was represented by the character Pai Mei in Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill: Volume 2 (2004).

 

Barton-Wright, Edward William

 

Long before Jon Bluming, Donald ‘Donn’ Frederick Draeger and Robert W Smith – all martial artists who helped to introduce Asian fighting styles to the West – there was the Englishman Edward William Barton-Wright.

Born in 1860, Barton-Wright (a civil engineer by trade) went to Japan when aged 33, where he stayed for four years. There he trained in a number of different ju-jitsu (there are various spellings) styles in Kobe, Yokohama, and Tokyo, and was so impressed by what he learned that he made the rather confident claim that ‘… (any) man who attacks you with a knife or other weapon can be easily disarmed’.

But even before his trip to Japan, Barton-Wright was an expert in several Western fighting styles, including boxing, fencing, wrestling, and savate. In order to test the practical application of such arts, he was apparently in the habit of ‘engaging toughs’ (i.e. picking fights) in various seedy places, such as inns and music halls.

Upon his return to England, Barton-Wright found that many questioned whether this strange martial art he’d brought back with him was actually any good. The simplest way to prove that it was, decided Barton-Wright, was to challenge his doubters to a fight. Though even then he couldn’t really win: soundly thrashing a wrestling champion called Mr Chipchase, he was subsequently accused of cheating – the mysterious throws, locks and holds of ju-jitsu being classed as ‘unsporting’. (Mr Chipchase himself, however, was gracious in defeat, and positively gushing about ju-jitsu declared that its ‘…system of defence and retaliation is so much more scientific than my own style’.)

Barton-Wright went on to found his own dojo (Japanese for ‘training hall’) within England, where he mixed ju-jitsu with the other fighting arts he also knew – such as boxing and fencing – resulting in his own, unique style that he labelled ‘Bartitsu’. (So popular did Bartitsu prove – if only fleetingly – that it was mentioned in the 1903 Sherlock Holmes’ short story The Adventure of the Empty House. In this, the resurrected Holmes informs Doctor Watson that his victory over his arch-nemesis Professor Moriarty at the Reichenbach Falls was due to his ‘…knowledge of baritsu [sic], or the Japanese system of wrestling’. Note here the accidental misspelling of Barton-Wright’s style.)    

Unfortunately, Bartitsu’s popularity had quite declined by around 1920; and by the time Barton-Wright died in 1951, aged ninety, he was all but a pauper. However, he can certainly be remembered as being one of the true pioneers of ‘mixed’ or ‘hybrid’ martial arts – having demonstrated the idea that techniques from various different styles can, and should, be put together to form the most efficient way of fighting.

 

 Bimba, Mestre

 

Born Manuel dos Reis Machado, Mestre referred to the fact that Machado was a ‘master’ of Capoeira, a martial art created by enslaved Africans in Brazil during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

Bimba, meanwhile, was the slang for ‘penis’ – apparently at his birth there was some confusion over Machado’s gender, until a midwife thought to take notice of the baby’s male part.

At its conception, Capoeira served a number of uses: it was a way for the slaves to stay healthy and to learn self-defence skills, while to those onlookers watching the ‘fights’ it acted as entertainment and a general way of raising the spirits.

I use quotation marks for the word fights as Capoeira’s fundamental purpose – that of teaching self-defence – was heavily disguised. Due to the techniques used it could look as much like a dance as a fight, and was anyway often accompanied by music, chanting, and singing. Thus anyone watching who might otherwise have been concerned by the fact that the slaves were learning to fight (for example, the slaves’ owner) would be lulled into thinking that the slaves were merely amusing themselves with a bit of singing and dancing. (Something that was doubtless deemed acceptable by a more ‘liberal’ slave-owner.) 

Following the abolition of slavery in 1888, Capoeira ironically had to be practised in even greater secrecy as it was associated with the violent street gangs of Brazil. If caught, its practitioners were punished severely – some having the tendons of their feet cut by the police.

Finally, however, legal persecution of the martial art ceased and in 1932 Mestre Bimba (then aged 32) was able to open the first Capoeira ‘school’. Members were obliged to wear a clean white uniform and conduct themselves well both inside and out of the training hall, and because of this professional people such as doctors and lawyers felt that they could now take up capoeira. So, at last, Capoeira became acceptable to society as a whole. 

 

Chan, Jackie

 

Born in Hong Kong on 7 April 1954, Jackie’s parents christened him Chan Kong-sang, meaning ‘born in Hong Kong’. (Just in case there should have been any confusion over the matter, presumably.)

Almost as soon as he could walk, Chan was practising kung fu with his father each morning, which it was hoped would help to instill such noble attributes as honesty, courage, and perseverance into the young boy.

When Chan was seven years old, his father was offered a job as a cook in the American Embassy in Australia. So off he and his wife went, leaving young Jackie in the tender loving care of the Peking Opera School.

Actually, there was nothing very tender or loving about the school. The child students there were drilled relentlessly in the martial arts, singing, acting, and acrobatics – all skills they would need for their intended life with the Peking Opera. The children were expected to learn quickly – and learn quickly they did; that is, if they wished to avoid being beaten and otherwise reprimanded in no uncertain terms.  

Chan made his acting debut aged eight in the snappily entitled Seven Little Valiant Fighters: Big and Little Wong Tin Bar, and as he got a little older, found work as an extra in various other, long-forgotten films.

He graduated from the Academy aged seventeen, only to discover that the Peking Opera would now not be requiring his services after all – it was no longer very popular, and was thus in the middle of firing rather than hiring. 

Further limiting Chan’s employment opportunities was the fact that he could neither read nor write – two skills the Academy had apparently neglected to teach their students as they jumped through suspended hoops while singing operatic airs.

Desperate, Chan decided to become a stuntman, quickly earning a reputation for all his almost suicidal lack of fear. Even seasoned professionals shied away from some of the stunts Chan was prepared to entertain, although to Chan it all came down to one simple choice: do the job and eat, or walk away and starve.

For a while he was doing reasonably well (he made a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it appearance in Bruce Lee’s Enter the Dragon), until the Hong Kong film industry started to do badly, and then even Chan had trouble finding work.

Running out of money, Chan was obliged to move to Australia to be with his parents. By all accounts he hated his time there, doing nothing more than menial construction jobs, although something came out of it that boded well for the future. One of Chan’s co-workers, who was having trouble pronouncing his full name, took to calling him just ‘Jackie’ instead

Then, pretty much out of the blue, Chan was contacted by one Willie Chan, who was working within the newly revitalised Hong Kong film industry.

‘I’ve been watching some of your stunts, and every one’s fantastic,’ said Willie. ‘How would you like to come back to Hong Kong and star in a film called New Fist of Fury?’

‘I’m on the plane already,’ replied the 21-year-old Jackie, tired and filthy after yet another day spent working as a casual labourer.

New Fist of Fury was followed by a number of other films starring Chan, but it was only when he began to put his own ideas into the plots that he became a genuine star; producing such gems as Drunken Master in 1978. 

Popular as he may have been in Asia – and Hong Kong in particular (where his nickname continues to be ‘Big Brother’) – success in the West would elude Chan for a long time. Only with 1996’s Rumble in the Bronx did Chan become a notable box-office success, capitalising on this with later films such as Rush Hour and Shanghai Noon.

It’s well known that Chan has broken umpteen bones, including his neck, while performing his own stunts; and he even came close to death on one occasion when he fractured his skull while filming 1987’s Armour of God. As a result of this he suffers from chronic pain, and these days relies – though not always – upon stunt doubles, as it would otherwise be next to impossible to find an insurance company prepared to underwrite his productions.

He has in recent years sought to diversify from roles which feature his martial arts’ prowess (as well as his standard, ‘slightly-goofy-but-basically-a-nice-guy’ character), resulting in films including The Myth – in which he played both a general in ancient China as well as a modern-day archaeologist – and Rob-B-Hood, in which Chan played a ‘comical’ criminal who kidnaps a baby.   

Since the mid-1980s, Chan has forged a separate career as a pop star, singing in a variety of languages (including English and Japanese) and releasing over 20 albums. He also works tirelessly for a number of charities, including those that deal with environmental issues and animal rights, and has paid for several schools to be built in the poorer areas of China.

 

Choi, Hong Hi

 

The purported founder of tae kwon do (although this is contested by some), Choi was born in 1918 in the remote Hwa Dae, Myong Chun district of what is now North Korea. He was a somewhat frail and sickly child (this seems to be something of a pattern for famous ‘founding fathers’ of martial arts – refer here to Morihei Ueshiba).

Aged twelve, Choi was expelled from school for protesting against the Japanese authorities who were then in control of Korea. His father sent him to learn calligraphy – although so alarmed was the new teacher by Choi’s lamentable physical condition that he also arranged to have him taught the martial art of taek kyeon (‘foot techniques’) as well.

Choi went to Japan in 1937, where within two years he’d become a black belt in karate. With the outbreak of the Second World War, Choi was forced to enlist in the Japanese army. However, when his links with the Korean Independence Movement were uncovered he was arrested, tried, and thrown into a cell.

This gave Choi some much-needed time and solitude in which to practise the martial art that would become tae kwon do. Soon the other prisoners were demanding that Choi teach them a little of what he knew – and Choi readily obliged. Finally, the situation threatened to descend into farce as even the jailers requested that their prisoner teach them what was – at heart – a mixture of taek kyeon and karate.

Choi was freed in August 1945 (according to some sources, just days before he was due to be executed for ‘treason’), and made his way to Seoul. There he was soon promoted to the rank of Lieutenant (ultimately he’d become a Major-General) in the South Korean army, taking this opportunity to teach soldiers – both American as well as Korean – tae kwon do.

In 1955, tae kwon do (‘the way of the feet and the hands’) was formally recognised within Korea, with a special administrative board being appointed, and from there word concerning this new martial art soon spread across the globe. It became an official Olympic sport for the first time at the 2000 Summer Olympics in Sydney. (The middleweight gold medal that year was won by Cuban Ángel Matos, who was, however, disqualified from life in 2008 after he intentionally kicked a referee in the face at the Beijing Olympics.)

 

Draeger, Donald ‘Donn’ Frederick

 Draeger was instrumental in continuing the science of ‘hoplology’ – the study of human combative performance and behaviour (the word derived from the Greek hoplon, meaning ‘armed’ or ‘armoured’) – that was first developed by Sir Richard Francis Burton. 

Along with such men as Jon Bluming and martial arts’ historian Robert W Smith, Draeger was particularly notable for introducing Eastern martial arts to the Western world.

Born in 1922 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA, Draeger began learning ju-jitsu when just seven years of age, later taking in interest in judo. (He would be instrumental in founding the Amateur Judo Association – America’s first national judo body.)

The Second World War saw Draeger promoted to the rank of Major, and a posting to the Pacific Rim allowed him to train with many Eastern martial arts’ masters.

His height – 6 foot 2 inches – and weight – around 200 pounds – meant that he was particularly suited to grappling arts such as judo, although he would conduct extensive studies into such striking styles as the ‘Mas’ Oyama school of karate, as well as becoming expert at many different types of weaponry.

Draeger was an extremely intellectual and well-read man, with a broad range of interests (not just martial arts – engineering and cultural studies were of equal interest to him). With a well-developed air of charm, he was able to convince the most reluctant of Eastern masters to show this young foreigner the secrets of their martial art.

Another trick of Draeger’s was to go with some other Westerners into a remote area, perhaps a backwater village, and to start training in full view of a local coffee shop. Soon enough someone watching would say that they ‘did something like that’, and would show Draeger and co their art form.

Draeger lived for many years in Japan (where he spent several weeks each year training top swordsmen at a remote mountain retreat), but also spent time in India, Sri Lanka, Mongolia, China, Taiwan, Korea, Hong Kong, Malaysia and Indonesia, all the while absorbing and documenting whatever fighting styles he happened to come across. In the process of doing this, it’s claimed, he eventually garnered over 100 black belts in different martial arts.

Draeger wrote extensively about the martial arts, publishing numerous books including Comprehensive Asian Fighting Arts, co-written with his long-term friend and colleague, Robert W. Smith. He served as a martial arts’ advisor on the set of the James Bond film You Only Live Twice, where he was also obliged to act as a stunt double for Sean Connery.

Throughout his later life, Draeger conducted extensive ‘field trips’ through Asia each year, and it was during one such trip that he contracted severe amoebic dysentery while on the Indonesian island of Sumatra.

While hospitalised, it was discovered that Draeger had cancer of the liver and intestines, his pain made even worse by severely swollen legs. Attempts at treatment failed, and Draeger died on 20 October 1982.

Perhaps the highest testament to Draeger’s talents comes from Jon Bluming, who has described him as ‘Japan’s first foreign Samurai’. And as Robert W. Smith wrote in his book, Martial Musings: ‘…Hear his name. Donn Draeger: don't nod in recognition; Donn Draeger: bow with admiration and respect…’ 

 

] D’tom, Nai Khanom

 

A warrior and Muay Thai fighter who was imprisoned as a slave labourer in Burma, D’tom was given a choice: remain a prisoner, or fight a man of his captors’ choice and (should he win) secure his freedom.

‘I’ll fight whoever you choose,’ said D’tom defiantly.

‘Good,’ said his captors. ‘And by the way, the man we have in mind is considered Burma’s finest fighter.’

In spite of this, D’tom beat his opponent – and the other eleven men who followed, all of them desperate to put this slave labourer down.

‘Excellent, excellent,’ said the Burmese King Mangra at last; for he’d been watching the entire performance. ‘Every part of you is blessed with venom. Even with just your bare hands, you can fell any number of opponents.’

Bloody and out of breath, D’tom nodded and bowed.

‘Thank you, your Majesty,’ he said.

‘And now for your reward,’ said King Mangra. ‘You may take gold and jewels – or a choice of Siamese women captured during battle between Burma and Siam.’ (Siam being the old name for Thailand.)

‘I take the women,’ said D’tom, ‘so that I may give them their freedom.’

‘As you wish,’ said the king, motioning to a courtier to bring the women forward.

Over 200 years have passed, but still D’tom’s victory is celebrated every year in Thailand on March 17 as National Muay Thai Day.

 

 

Emelianenko, Feodor Vladimirovich

 

Commonly referred to as ‘Fedor’, Emelianenko (born 28 September 1976, in Russia’s Rubeshnoe Lugansk region) is one of the best-known heavyweight fighters in the world of mixed martial arts. A former firefighter, serving with the Russian military from 1995–1997, he began training early on with judo and Sambo (in both of which he was declared the 1997 Russian National Champion) before expanding his fighting arsenal through such ‘striking’ arts as Muay Thai kickboxing.

Six feet tall and weighing in at around 230 pounds, Emelianenko’s nicknames include ‘The Terminator’ and ‘The Cyborg’. His ‘ground and pound’ technique – taking an opponent to the floor with a throw, and then hammering them with his fists at the same time as he looks to apply a submission hold – is widely feared, and only once in his mixed martial arts’ career has he been defeated. This followed a controversial stoppage in late 2000 by a ringside doctor, after Emelianenko’s forehead was sliced open by an illegal (but also accidental) elbow strike from his opponent, the Japanese fighter Tsuyoshi ‘TK’ Kohsaka.

Outside of the ring, Emelianenko appears to be a refreshingly down-to-earth individual, who once stated that he began a fighting career because he ‘…didn’t have any money’. He was born to an impoverished family, who for a time lived in a single room with Emelianenko’s mother – a teacher – growing vegetables on a nearby plot of land when there was not enough money to buy food. An often sickly child who was obliged to share an overcoat with his brother, Emelianenko went on to become a fighter who earned an estimated $1.5 million for a fight in Saitama, Japan on 31 December 2007. (Emelianenko took less than two minutes to secure victory with an arm-bar.)