2024/12/13

Taiwan Today

Taiwan Review

A Master of Kung-fu

October 01, 1985
Only an appearance of force—A posture from the slow-motion martial arts discipline known as Tai Chi Chuan.
There aren't too many people still around today who remember the 1936 Olympics in Berlin. But 69-year-old martial arts champion Fu Shu-yun remembers it well: Not only was she there, she was one of the bright stars of that year's games, as one of the nine-member martial arts team representing China.

Next year will mark the 50th anniversary of that event. Fu Shu-yun, looking back on her achievement of that time, recalls the enduring passion that carried her to Berlin—her love of the martial arts; it burns now, decades later.

Having been an avid practitioner of kung-fu—Chinese martial arts—for sixty years, she has no desire to stop now for a comfortable retirement chair. Early every morning, she leaves her house in Neihu, a suburb of Taipei, and heads toward the Chinese Culture University in Yangmingshan, where she is principal instructor for martial arts classes. Her gait is so strong and quick, over the fifteen minutes from her house to the bus stop, many half her age would find themselves gasping for breath trying to match it.

Not given much to small talk, when Fu Shu-yun does discuss topics that interest her—more often than not, if not martial arts, then painting, a hobby she took up only five years ago—her voice sings out loud and clear, and her eyes gleam with spirit.

She might easily be twenty years younger, except for a head of snow-white hair.

Fu Shu-yun's meteoric martial arts career is founded on a routine of arduous practice. When she was attending the old Nanking Central Martial Arts Academy in her youth, all students were required to rise at 6 a.m. Fu Shu-yun, however, made it her daily habit to get up at 4:30 a.m., beginning her practice as the others lay sleeping. She felt that while she lost in sleep, she gained in the competence and precision of her performance. This level of perseverance, of dedicated hard work, which has characterized her lifetime, was no doubt a critical factor in placing her among the most successful martial arts competitors of her day.

Her active interest in martial arts began when she was only ten. At her elementary school, an instructor who was very interested in athletics and the martial arts would lead the children in games of hide and seek, kickball, etc. One day he asked if they were interested in learning kung-fu. And all of the children shouted their approval.

He began to teach them the Shaolin style of martial arts, at the time, the most popular beginners' format. For Fu Shu-yun, particularly, it was love at first sight, and every morning before going to school, she would practice religiously for an hour. Even to this day she has a special place in her heart for the Shaolin discipline, begun as a child, and perfected years later at the academy in Nanking.

Swordsmanship attracted her in her youth, and she has maintained that interest.

In the early days of the Republic of China, studying the martial arts was a restricted privilege: First off, studying with a good teacher required sums beyond the means of most people. And there were other expenses, not the least of which was money for extra food: The calorie consumption for martial arts enthusiasts is quite large, since they must practice constantly and keep up their strength.

Also, the opportunities for women to study martial arts were highly limited, regardless of the financial resources available.

Fu Shu-yun was lucky on both counts. Not only was her family financially well off, but her father and grandfather were both military men, attuned to the martial arts; her parents were both very opened minded persons, and did not discourage her.

When Fu Shu-yun was 17, she was taken by an uncle to a national athletic meet in Nanking. On witnessing the martial arts portion of the competitions, she couldn't help being impressed by how good the contestants were. Her uncle told her, "Of course they are good: they are students from the Nanking Central Martial Arts Academy."

The wheels started turning in her head; she made up her mind that the Nanking Central Martial Arts Academy was where she was heading; she tested in, and began the very next semester.

At the time, the Nanking academy was at the very pinnacle of excellence among martial arts institutions in China. Unlike other such academies, both public and private, which specialized in a specific style of martial arts, the Nanking academy excelled in everything. The academy hired the best teachers from all over China, usually at their own terms, including some of the greatest martial arts names of the last hundred years, such as Yang Cheng-fu and Sun Lu-tang.

The study routine at the academy was no piece of cake. As previously mentioned, Fu Shu-yun rose earlier than others every morning, at 4:30 a.m., to begin her practice. After breakfast, all students attended two hours of academic classes, followed by two hours of martial arts classes. Then, a break for lunch, and the same routine in the afternoon.

The first year at the academy was especially rigorous, because first-year courses put special emphasis on "leg training," a rather painful discipline to increase both the strength and flexibility of the legs, a focal point of martial arts proficiency. At night, the students would often use both hands to help their legs up onto their beds, their nether-limbs being too sore and numb to make it facilely under their own steam. Less dedicated students dropped out of the academy.

Fu Shu-yun not only stood up to the rigors of the training, but often exceeded what was expected of a student. She laid a solid foundation in the fundamentals, and mastered training with sword, knife, and staff, as well as in almost all of the famous unarmed martial arts forms of China. She was also given special training not offered other students, because of her outstanding progress.

Her agility and proficiency are still demonstrated daily.

In 1935, two years after she had witnessed the national athletic meet in Nanking, Fu Shu-yun was a national games competitor instead of a spectator.

The competition, this time in Shanghai, was tough, with some of the best martial arts practitioners from all of China attending. Yet young Fu Shu-yun, still in her third year at the academy, dazzled them all, and took first place in the women's division sword competition. The victory was a morale booster, confirming the value of her hard work, and it no doubt played a significant part in her selection, at the beginning of the following year, as a member of the Chinese martial arts team for the 1936 Olympics in Berlin.

After six months of specialized training, in June 1936 Fu Shu-yun and the eight other team members, two women and six men, set off for Europe aboard an Italian steamer.

Almost as soon as they arrived in Berlin, they were a hit of the upcoming show. The European athletes marveled at their uniforms, made of high quality Chinese blue silk. But, of course, even more at their performances.

Many Europeans had never before seen displays of the Chinese martial arts, and they looked on with astonishment and delight. Fu Shu-yun's Tai Chi performance and Cheng Huai-shien's Feicha demonstration were specially noted.

Due to the popularity of their performances, the martial arts team presented five more demonstrations in Berlin at the conclusion of the games, then was forced to turn down official invitations from France, England, and other parts of Germany since the scheduled time for their European encounter was up, and they had to return to China.

Returning home, Fu Shu-yun completed her last year at the Nanking Academy. Upon her graduation, the number of different martial arts forms she had mastered was staggering: The extensiveness of that training is indicated in her proficiency in six different forms of Tai Chi Chuan alone—it is a well known "internal" form which places its stress not on the quick movements used in combat, but rather, on slow movements to harmonize the blood and energy now in the body. And added to that were several forms of Shaolin, Hsing Yi, Pa Kua Chuan, Pa Kua Lien Huan Tuei, Mien Chuan, and several different styles of sword, knife, and staff skills—and the list by no means stops there.

But as much as she knew, she had by no means sacrificed quality for quantity. She perfected every single discipline through single-minded dedication and long, hard practice. It came as no surprise after graduation when she was invited to be a principal martial arts instructor at the Shanghai College of Physical Education.

She was by no means a stranger to Shanghai, having been born there in 1916. And she had won her first place in the sword competitions there, at age nineteen, during the Sixth National Games. In fact, the grounds and stadium used for those games were now allocated by the government as facilities for the establishment of the Shanghai College of Physical Education.

Gray-haired now and still fetching in appearance, she remains a very formidable opponent.

Fu Shu-yun married Meng Chao-hsun, himself a martial artist of no small attainment, a few years after. An interesting coincidence is that they were both born in the same year and came from the same hometown, but did not know one another growing up.

Meng Chao-hsun started studying the martial arts at the age of six, and is one of the few persons alive today who is a master of both Black-Tiger Shaolin, which itself has altogether eight sections, and the form known as Pai Yuan Tongpei Chuan. Few people living today have even seen a demonstration of either of these styles, much less being proficient in them. Meng is also adept at Tai Chi and several weapons disciplines right out of the pages of the classical Chinese kung-fu novels.

Fu and Meng were introduced in the Yunnan city of Kunming by two of their teachers, and it certainly seemed a match made in heaven. Yet there was to be no marriage just then.

The Republic of China was embroiled in the bitter war of resistance against the invading Japanese, and Meng was a fighter pilot in the ROC Air Force. Following advance training in Russia—then one of the Allied Powers in the European war—and the Chinese border province of Hsinchiang, he new missions against the Japanese in north China. Marriage plans were laid aside until 1942, when in the Szechuan city of Chengtu, the two were finally united.

Educational programs throughout China suffered during World War II, and this included the martial arts. Still, even with the birth of two sons, Fu Shu-yun continued her martial arts practice.

In 1949, when the Republic of China Government moved to Taiwan, Fu Shu-yun and her two sons also came over, and were later followed by her husband. They settled in south Taiwan near Kaohsiung, in the region of Kangshan, where Meng was assigned as an officer in the Air Force.

As word of Fu Shu-yun's martial arts abilities spread on the island, she was soon in demand far and wide as a teacher. Traveling to a different place every day, she taught very willing students the fundamentals of the Chinese martial arts. And when her husband later retired from the Air Force in 1966 as a colonel, he joined her as a teacher.

Together, they since have taught thousands in and around the Kaohsiung-Kangshan area.

In 1971, Fu Shu-yun was invited to teach the martial arts at National Taiwan Normal University in Taipei. And accepting, she temporarily moved up north, where she lived with her older son, then attending university in Taipei.

Eventually the story of the "martial arts couple" reached the ears of ROC movie makers, who quickly beat a path to their door, offering contracts for kung-fu movies. The two starred in four films, one shot in Hongkong and the other three in Taiwan.

In 1975, a year after Fu Shu-yun left her university position to return to her home in Kaohsiung, the couple was asked to co-star in the now famous Sunset in the Forbidden City. Set in the early years of the Republic, when warlords were battling for control of China's northern regions (Fu and Meng portrayed a couple responsible for the bodyguard force of a famous warlord), the movie is full of exciting martial arts scenes.

The two are torn between their loyalty for the warlord, and the desire to assist Tan Tao-liang, the star of the movie, who is a Nationalist agent sent to secure the defeat of the warlord. It all made for exciting watching, and the movie was popular both at home and abroad.

During the four-month filming of the movie in Taipei, Fu and Meng once more moved up north. Although they again returned to Kaohsiung after the movie was completed, they had taken a liking to the Taipei suburb of Neihu, where the film was partially shot and, two years later, they bought an apartment house in that suburb and moved to Taipei once and for all.

In Taipei, they were, as might be expected, bombarded with requests to teach the martial arts. And they have continued as best as possible to perpetuate Chinese martial arts traditions to this day.

It is notable, despite all of the students whom they taught, that at no point did they ever advertise, or go looking for students. The students have always looked for them.

Two years after settling in Taipei, Fu and Meng were struck by another interest, which the two of them now pursue—again together—Chinese painting. At an age when most people are starting to get ready for retirement, they are not only as busy as ever in their life-long careers, but on top of that, have added a consuming involvement with Chinese watercolor painting.

They became formal students of the renowned master of the Lingnan School of Chinese painting, Huang Lei-sheng, and approach painting now with the same discipline and determination as they have the martial arts.

Last year, in a joint exhibit of the works of Huang Lei-sheng's students, both Fu and Meng received critical acclaim for their works. Yet praise rolls off them. They maintain that after five years of study, they are just beginning to understand some of the fine points.

A year short of seventy, Fu Shu-yun is in her third year teaching the martial arts at the Chinese Culture University. And she makes the time also to take care of her home, press on with her painting, and send in regular contributions to a university magazine on the martial arts. Her regular response to media reporters looking for interviews is to wave them away: "I just don't have time. I haven't even finished a painting for my class tomorrow."

Her's is a spirit the Chinese cherish.

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