My Tai Chi beginnings: Part II

Chapter 2 regarding my Tai Chi beginnings:

In 1981, transplanted from San Francisco to Philadelphia, I began studying with Maggie Newman, (a senior student of the late Grandmaster Cheng Man-Ch’ing), who came down from NYC once a week to teach.

Maggie Newman, Tai Chi master and disciple of Professor Cheng Man-Ch’ing, doing the sword form. Maggie, who died recently at age 102, lasted longer than those two tall buildings behind her.

It was at this point that I took an oath, broken only 10 times in the ensuing 35 years, never to miss a day of Tai Chi. Professor Cheng’s lineage made the most sense to me in terms of what real Tai Chi should embody, and Maggie was a wonderful teacher, but, before I got beyond learning the form, I was off to Australia in search of romance and adventure. In Sydney, after checking out several disappointing Chinese teachers, I visited the class of Erle Montaigue, a stocky, fairhaired character who looked like the former rock star, wrestler, and bouncer that he was.

Australian Tai Chi Master Erle Montaigue, circa 1982.

After five minutes, I knew he was a true master, from a pure lineage. On Tai Chi, Erle (see pic) was opinionated to the point of being outrageous, but always with a twinkle in his eye. Mostly, he was a generous teacher, and, after imparting the Yang Family long form in a couple months of daily classes, he welcomed me into the mysteries of the martial side of Tai Chi, starting with “Push Hands” (see link for an example), the exercise for developing martial sensitivity, which I’d spent seven years coveting. For several weeks, a small group would meet at 5 a.m., in a little park on beautiful Elizabeth Bay, walking through two hours of very slow Tai Chi. It was grueling, exhausting, strengthening, and nourishing, all at once. Dawn happened, and the world would wake up in slow motion as our legs ached and we struggled to stay relaxed. To this day, it’s one of my fondest memories of Tai Chi training.

Elizabeth Bay: This was the view in the mornings, as we walked through two grueling and energizing hours of the Yang Family long form of Tai Chi in Sydney Australia.

On Sundays, we’d meet there for Push Hands, and I was initiated into the mysteries of sensing and interpreting energy, neutralizing force, and developing root. Concepts of hardness and softness became sensory experiences rather than verses read in old texts. Erle and I forged a friendship that endured until his untimely passing in 2011. Then, my world spun again, and circumstance brought me back to Philadelphia, to find my true teacher in Grandmaster William C.C. Chen…but that’s a story for next time.