East Meets West: A Journey To Mastery
Tim Cartmell is a martial arts maestro with a journey that spans continents, styles, and decades. Where tradition meets modernity, Tim stands as a bridge between ancient practices and contemporary combat sports; he is a renowned martial artist and author known for his expertise in Chinese martial arts and achievements in Brazilian Jiujitsu, with several influential books to his name and numerous championships in submission grappling. From the quiet discipline of Taiwan’s traditional Kung Fu schools to the adrenaline-charged world of Brazilian Jiujitsu, Cartmell’s story is one of passion and a relentless pursuit of mastery.
The Old Masters guarded their secrets closely, revealing them only to a chosen few, so the journey to mastery is rarely straightforward. Cartmell’s experiences offer a unique perspective on the evolution of a modern martial arts master. But how did he bridge the gap between these diverse disciplines of traditional martial arts and modern combat sports? What challenges did he face, and what drove him to embrace such varied forms of combat? And perhaps most intriguingly, what can we learn from his experiences that might reshape our own pursuit of martial arts?
Tim Cartmell’s Humble Beginnings
“I started in a Chinese martial arts style called Kung Fu San Soo (功夫散手) when I was just a boy,” Tim began. His soft-spoken voice and mild mannerisms hide his deadly abilities. Beneath his slender frame lay a deep well of fighting expertise. The transition from San Soo to the “internal styles” of martial arts was a quest for deeper understanding; he explained, “The idea of maximizing your body power, the intent and those kinds of things… it seemed very developed in the internal styles,” an assessment I completely agree with.
There’s a certain magnetism to the old tales of martial artists who, in search of mastery, make the pilgrimage to distant lands. Tim Cartmell took me on one such odyssey. “I was getting out of college. And I decided I wanted to further my training, and I wanted to travel.”
Tim’s inspiration drew from Robert Smith’s classic books. “I’d read Smith’s books, like ‘Masters and Methods‘ and was very interested in…going back to China to train, you know, at the source kind of thing,” he shared. Surprisingly, despite being deeply invested in martial arts, he had “never seen any of the internal styles live,” apart from a fleeting Tai Chi demo.
Iron Sharpens Iron – Tim’s Time In Taiwan
Tim Cartmell’s experiences in Taiwan unravel like silk delicately drawn from a cocoon, interspersed with dedication and serendipitous meetings. I probed, “So, who did you primarily train with during your time in Taiwan?” Tim took a moment, memories flooding back, “I had quite a few teachers.” He began detailing his experiences, notably with Xu Hongji in Shenlong Tang Shou Dao Xingyi (神龍唐手道 形意拳). This wasn’t just any school – it was a fight school, giving Tim an immersive dive into San Da (散打) tournaments.
What Is San Da?
I often like to describe San Da as “3/4 MMA.” It ingeniously combines the rich legacy of Chinese martial arts with the modern demands of full-contact fighting. While emphasizing strikes, takedowns, and throws, it stops short of the ground-fighting element commonly found in full mixed martial arts. This unique fusion offers fighters a space where traditional Kung Fu techniques meet contemporary combat sports’ intense, fast-paced arena.
Throughout my journey in the martial arts world, I’ve had the privilege of competing in San Da tournaments throughout the US. San Da stands out as a stellar ruleset; it crafts fast-paced bouts that are exhilarating for both the fighters and spectators alike. A unique aspect of these tournaments is the “lei tai” (擂台) — a raised platform on which the combat takes place. The absence of ropes or cages introduces an additional strategic element: fighters can win not just by strikes or throws but also by pushing their opponent off the platform, adding another layer of excitement to an already thrilling contest.
He painted a vivid picture: “The training was very…there was a lot of conditioning, and then we did the traditional Xingyi.” The element of sparring stood out – they sparred in every class, constantly pushing their limits. His voice hinted at a fond nostalgia when he spoke about the school’s emphasis on sparring and competition, a combination not frequently found in traditional martial arts training.
Tim’s story turned poignant as he revealed Xu Hongji’s passing after just a few months. But, true to his commitment, Tim continued for another three years under Xu’s son, deepening his roots in the same esteemed lineage. “I’d never seen a Xingyi class or a Bagua group before I went,” he confessed, underscoring his leap into the unknown with an insatiable thirst for authentic martial arts.
As he delved further, names like Chen Zuozhen, Lin Ahlong, and Luo Dexiu rolled off his tongue, painting a vibrant picture of masters and styles that contributed to his evolution. His encounter with Dan Miller opened doors to the mainland, where he connected with famed martial artists, notably Liang Kequan.
My eyes were drawn to an exquisite calligraphy piece adorning his backdrop. “I was gonna ask you if that calligraphy on the wall was by Liang Kequan?” I inquired.
Tim shook his head with a soft smile, “No, this is Sun Zhijun. He was widely recognized as the greatest living Bagua master and also a master calligrapher.” Although Tim’s sessions with Sun were limited, he commissioned a piece of art from the legendary figure. “That’s my favorite poem,” Tim mused, nodding towards the artwork.
From Kung Fu San Soo to Modern Fighting Techniques
When Tim Cartmell first stepped foot in Taiwan, he was, by all accounts, a stranger in a strange land. With no grasp of Mandarin, he was led only by his indomitable passion for martial arts. “I couldn’t speak any Chinese yet,” he admitted.
Tim’s first meeting with Xu Hongji, a revered name, bore the nostalgic essence of old-school Kung Fu movies. Tim recalled, “He told me he didn’t really teach new students anymore.” Yet, as a test of Tim’s commitment, the master invited him to join his “morning exercise” sessions at Yuan Shan. And so began Tim’s initiation.
It started with foundational exercises under another instructor, gradually transitioning into lessons directly from Xu. “One day, he said this is Pi Quan, and he showed me the first form,” Tim reminisced, a tone of gratitude evident.
Tim’s response was casual when I pressed him about the school’s emphasis on strength and conditioning. The students underwent rigorous routines, including fu hu gong (伏虎功) derived from judo. Long and grueling classes involved warm-ups, judo-derived exercises, standing postures, forms, and sparring.
Beyond Xu Hongji, Tim’s journey in Taiwan connected him with several notable martial artists. Luo Dexiu, a name I was familiar with, stood out. However, it was Chen Zhouzhen who piqued my curiosity. Tim described him as an influential figure who introduced him to Hebei Xingyiquan and an older, medium-frame version of Yang Taiji.
Venturing Into The Heartland of Kung Fu
The journey to mastery is seldom linear. Such was the story of Tim Cartmell, who took a serendipitous detour into mainland China inspired by an unplanned connection. “So I traveled there a couple of times,” he began, emphasizing that his initial ventures into China were solely exploratory.
Meeting Dan Miller, the man behind the well-researched Bagua Journal, changed everything for Tim. Miller’s search for a translator collided with Tim’s by now, linguistic prowess and interest. “Dan came and was looking for a translator,” he revealed. Their subsequent travels exposed Tim to the inner circles of China’s martial arts landscape, where traditions, skills, and legacies intertwine.
With his deep connections, Miller provided Tim access to many of the biggest names practicing traditional arts on the mainland. It was this newfound exposure that anchored Tim’s resolve. “That’s when I met the teachers and decided to go to the mainland and train,” he reflected.
While Tim’s time on the mainland wasn’t continuous, it was intense and transformative. “I’d stay for a couple of months, then go back and work and train. I did that a couple of times a year for about five years,” he detailed. The ebb and flow of his visits became a rhythm, with each return deepening his understanding and refining his skills.
Such intermittent immersions highlight the dynamic and unpredictable pathways martial arts can guide a practitioner down. Each journey, each connection, serves as a stepping stone, further embedding the spirit of the art in the practitioner.
Gracie In Action Tape: Tim’s Introduction to BJJ
If ever there was a testament to life’s serendipitous moments steering our course, it’s Tim Cartmell’s chance discovery of Brazilian Jiujitsu (BJJ) in a random bookstore.
Flipping through an early 90s issue of Black Belt magazine, an obscure ad in the back caught Tim’s eye. “Brazilian Jiujitsu…real fights.” Curious and slightly skeptical, he bought the Gracie In Action tape depicted in the ad. The raw realness of the fights and the evident strategy behind them resonated with him. “I had a little wrestling experience…most fights end up on the ground,” Tim mused.
His enthusiasm soon spread to an old friend, a formidable bouncer and San Soo fighter from Texas. Skeptical at first, his friend later took on the Gracie challenge, ending up in a quick, humbling submission by the legendary Rickson Gracie.
His change of heart was complete, culminating in him training rigorously in BJJ and becoming an instructor. Afterward, he told Tim, “You know, I took one look at Rickson, And I knew I was in trouble.” “But,” he said, “in my wildest dreams. I had no idea how fast I would lose.”
Back in Taiwan, Tim’s commitment to Jiujitsu only deepened. The first UFC event proved a pivotal moment. Tim recalled, “I said the skinny Brazilian kid will win, and everyone laughed.” The world soon stopped laughing as BJJ’s efficacy was showcased for all to see.
By the time he returned to California in ’94, BJJ was taking the US by storm. Tim trained under various instructors, eventually earning his black belt from Cleber Luciana. This newfound expertise led him to compete in pro submission grappling in his 40s, a challenging endeavor.
At Shen Wu Academy in LA, Tim taught Brazilian Jiujitsu and traditional Chinese arts while introducing a unique “ground proofing” program. Disheartened by the business demands, he transitioned as a coach to ACE Jiujitsu, emphasizing competition and instruction. His deep BJJ expertise, enriched by Chinese martial arts, paved the way for his MMA coaching. Since the early 2000s, Tim has been an instrumental figure at ACE Jiujitsu, molding fighters and sharing his extensive knowledge, reflecting his own path and the transformative journey of a style that reshaped global fighting perspectives.
Blending Old and New: Tim Cartmell’s Insights on Martial Arts
Diving into the vast ocean of martial arts, I was curious to understand the harmony between ancient traditions and contemporary combat sports. It wasn’t about contrasting them but a genuine inquiry rooted in open-hearted curiosity.
I turned to Tim Cartmell for insights. His deep involvement in both realms made him an ideal voice. “What can each discipline teach the other?” I asked.
Tim emphasized the adaptability of MMA. “They’ll learn anything from anyone as long as you can prove it works,” he noted, highlighting its foundational principle. This isn’t arrogance but a relentless quest for what’s practical.
However, while MMA is grounded in its practical testing against skilled opponents, traditional martial arts can sometimes lean heavily into forms, missing out on the real essence of combat.
Offering an analogy, Tim remarked, “Imagine being in a boxing gym. If all you did was jump rope and hit a heavy bag, you still can’t box.” The underlying message: mere forms without the test of combat fall short.
Yet, Tim’s perspective wasn’t about discounting traditional martial arts. Instead, he pointed out the strength and wisdom they carry. While MMA fighters are unquestionably formidable in street scenarios, the mindfulness fostered by traditional arts can provide invaluable insights, especially when external factors like the environment or potential weapons are involved.
Concluding, Tim stressed the importance of intention. Being clear about your purpose is crucial whether you’re into martial arts for defense, sport, or personal growth.
Bridging Traditional Chinese Martial Arts & BJJ
My quest for understanding how traditional Chinese martial arts mesh with modern fighting techniques led me to another poignant question for Tim Cartmell. Could years of practice in the ancient arts be an asset or perhaps an obstacle in Jiujitsu?
Tim’s response was enlightening, “Absolutely. It established a discipline.” It wasn’t just the physical form but the discipline, the mind-body unity, the consciousness of movement that Chinese martial arts instilled in him. These foundational principles didn’t need to be relearned when he ventured into Jiujitsu.
He vividly drew parallels, “What we’d call in Tai Chi as ‘freestyle pushing hands’ in English, we call it wrestling.” The sensitivity, the intuitive nature of predicting an opponent’s move, was a strength Tim had honed during his years with traditional arts. Some techniques, like the throws in Baguazhang, felt familiar, even if the ground combat was new territory.
While the principles shared between the two practices were theoretically clear, their application took time to crystallize, especially on the ground. “Several years in my jiujitsu training,” as Tim recalled.
Sparring, Tim emphasized, was the laboratory of real-world application. It’s one thing to execute a move on a compliant opponent but in a live setting? That’s the actual challenge. It was in these sparring sessions that Tim could dissect what he had learned from Chinese martial arts and adapt, refine, and test them.
He pointed out the inherent limitation of traditional styles, particularly the absence of ground fighting. Although he didn’t say so explicitly, my impression was that while Tim had internalized everything of value he could from his Kung Fu days, he had largely left them behind.
A Fusion of Martial Arts Discipline and Innovation
As our conversation continued, I felt a growing sense of desperation to find some thread of Kung Fu in the combat sports champion. “How much of what you learned from your time in Taiwan and China do you still practice regularly?” I asked.
Tim’s answer was reflective yet deep-rooted in his experiences. “The body use that I learned, certain alignments and ways to coordinate your body. That’s in everything,” he explained. It was as if the foundational principles he had embraced in China and Taiwan had seamlessly blended into his current practices.
Although traditional forms weren’t a staple in his routine, he saw value in teaching them to those still interested in the old ways. Everything, from the most complex martial sequence to a simple push-up, was a form for Tim. “It’s a Kata. You should always be paying attention to your alignment, your relationship with gravity,” he asserted.
What Breath Work Does Tim Cartmell Practice?
“Is there any type of Qigong or even breath work you incorporate for recovery or to modulate your mental state?” I inquired, searching for insights deeper than mere physical movements.
“My breath work is incorporated into everything I do,” he began. His journey into the art of breathing started young, intertwined with yoga and the varied pranayama exercises. Yet, it was evident that while the specific exercises faded over the years, the essence remained.
He reminisced about training with Rickson Gracie, a name synonymous with ju-jitsu. “Rickson is big on yogic breathing,” Cartmell mused, delving into techniques tied to the heat of competitions, about catching your breath amidst a fierce duel. “Those things, I use when I grapple,” he said, emphasizing its significance.
Through Cartmell’s words, I was reminded that in the grand dance of martial arts, it’s not just about power and form but also the subtlety of breath. It’s a rhythm, a life force, and a strategy all rolled into one.
But what struck me most was Tim’s vision of transcending styles. “If somebody can throw a hard front kick, and they kick you in the face, can you tell what style it’s from? I think not.” There was no rigid boundary between styles for him. It was about imbibing the essence of the strategy and fluidly merging them.
Drawing Lines Between Tradition & Combat
Leaning into the conversation, “With your broad training base, how would you approach teaching someone unfamiliar with martial arts?” I inquired.
Tim’s response was thoughtful, colored by the wisdom of his experience. “I have a method broken down,” he begins. “One that I teach a lot is ‘ground proofing‘ — grappling self-defense for non-grapplers.” He paints a vivid image of an integrated system he has taught to various police departments, and throughout Europe. Tim’s perspective emphasizes efficient, real-world applications for those with limited time. “If you came to me wanting just to defend yourself in a few months,” he clarifies, “there’d be no qigong (氣功) or zhan zhuang (站桩); that’d be a waste of time.”
His answer is grounded, reflecting a philosophy prioritizing immediate need over historical profundity. However, the roots are still remembered. If a student were to immerse themselves in the art, tradition would come into play. “If you wanted to learn Xingyiquan as a traditional style, we start with standing,” Tim elaborates.
A recurrent theme emerges: goals. He believes practices like zhan zhuang might be redundant for his MMA fighters. Yet, for someone seeking health benefits, he sees value. “It depends on people’s goals and their purpose for training,” he explains. The conversation pivots to zhan zhuang, a practice Tim regards as valuable for its myriad benefits — body conditioning to mind coordination. Yet, he notes, “the very best fighters in the world have never heard of zhan zhuang.”
It’s an intriguing dichotomy — the balance between ancient art forms and modern combat requirements. As Tim so aptly concludes, what you learn and how it aids you wholly “depends on what your goal is.”
Clearing The Air On Tai Chi
Under the digital magnification of a Zoom window, I asked Tim to expand on something he’d said at a recent Tai Chi workshop in Paris in which he’d stated that the “whole idea of Tai Chi is to get someone on one foot.” Naturally, this ruffled some feathers in the Tai Chi community, and I asked Tim to say more about it.
“Obviously, there’s a lot more to Tai Chi than putting someone on one foot,” Cartmell began, addressing the comment.
Tim Cartmell dove into Tai Chi’s multifaceted history, its transformation from a martial art to a health regimen, offering perspectives that many might find unfamiliar.
Referring to Sun Lutang’s work, he noted that Taijiquan’s original emphasis was on its fighting techniques. Cartmell elaborated, “One of the big benefits of Tai Chi practicing Taiji is you can learn to fight very quickly because the technique base is limited and the method is very obvious or straightforward.” This sharply contrasts with the modern perception of Tai Chi, which many see as a slow-paced, health-centric exercise shrouded in mystical elements and alleged qi powers. Contrary to Tim’s viewpoint that Tai Chi is relatively straightforward, an echo chamber exists within certain circles. This group perpetuates the narrative that “real Tai Chi” is an art so complex that its depths are only truly understood by a select, anointed few.
He also brought up Chen Weiming’s early 1930s writings, which vouched for Tai Chi’s martial prowess. However, what really caught my attention was Chen’s observation: “Everybody knows Tai Chi is a great fighting style, but very few people know it’s good for health.”
Cartmell went on to describe the foundational strategy of Taijiquan: to ‘uproot’ the opponent. “Uprooting is to shift their weight onto one of their feet,” he articulated. This idea was crystallized when he said, “When you push them onto one foot… they have 360 [dead angles]”. Essentially, if you can strategically shift an opponent’s weight to one foot, their balance is compromised, and they can be effortlessly toppled.
He referred to the “dead angle” – a principle I remembered from his book Effortless Combat Throws. When an opponent is balanced on both feet, they have two predictable angles of vulnerability. Move them onto one foot, however, and their vulnerability becomes infinite.
Drawing the conversation to a close, he left me with a striking metaphor, comparing the approach in Tai Chi to angling a gun: “Everything before [the fajin (發勁)] is like push hands… Once you have a superior connection, you can bring them onto one foot, and then you issue your force, and the guy falls down.” The aim is precision, not brute force.
It was an enlightening moment – understanding Tai Chi not just as a graceful dance but as a strategic art of balance and force.
Conclusion
As my conversation with the renowned martial artist Tim Cartmell unfolded, it was clear that the vast world of martial arts is as much about understanding deep-rooted theories as it is about physical practice. When asked about a book recommendation, Tim instantly brought up John Danaher and Hanzo Gracie’s “Mastering Jiujitsu” – a resource-heavy on theory, crucial for understanding the heart of Brazilian Jiujitsu. But another book that repeatedly emerges in such dialogues is Jack Dempsey’s “Championship Fighting.” Though small, it’s a core guide that dives straight into the mechanics of force generation, often likened to traditional techniques. It has been a perennial favorite amongst many of the masters I’ve interviewed and a personal favorite.
He might be flying under the radar regarding self-promotion, but Tim Cartmell’s commitment to martial arts is palpable. As our conversation wrapped up, I couldn’t help but be inspired by his profound insights, hoping for a face-to-face encounter soon. It was a privilege to have such a master share his time and perspective with me.
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About the Author
Ashe Higgs, I Liq Chuan Master Instructor & L2 Nutrition Coach
Ashe is a highly skilled martial arts instructor and certified nutrition coach with over two decades of experience in the field. He holds a Master Instructor certification in I Liq Chuan under Sam FS Chin, making him one of only several individuals worldwide to hold the title. He has taught classes and workshops worldwide and is passionate about helping others achieve their fitness and wellness goals.
With a background in full-contact fighting and a Level 2 certification from Precision Nutrition in nutrition coaching, Ashe is a well-rounded expert in the fields of martial arts. In addition to his expertise, he has a wealth of experience in teaching and mentoring others. He has a natural ability to connect with his students and inspire them to reach their full potential.
Disclaimers & Conflicts of Interest
I am not a doctor, and the information provided should not be considered medical advice. The information provided is for educational and informational purposes only and should not be used as a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Consult your doctor or a qualified healthcare professional before making any changes to your diet, exercise routine, or lifestyle.
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