On September 21, 2015, Grandmaster Chen Qingzhou passed away. Our publisher, Gigi Oh, was notified from Chen Village; she’s been in close contact with Chen Village because she is headed out there next week. Grandmaster Chen was the cover master of our Fall 95 issue: Secrets of Chen Village with Master Chen Qingzhou by Marian K. Castinado.

Gigi first met Grandmaster Chen in 1995 during his first visit to the United States. He was accompanied by his American student, Kris Eckert (a.k.a. Kris Brenner, a.k.a. Jin Taiyang). “Grandmaster Chen was the first representative of Chen Taijiquan I met,” recalls Gigi. “The next year, Chen Zhenglei came out for Lily Lau’s tournament. And then the other Chen masters like Chen Xiaowang followed. Chen Qingzhou was the first one, so in that way he was the first pioneer for Chen Taiji.

“We had dinner together. At first, he seemed like a humble old farmer. But then he gave us some calligraphy. I was really impressed by his calligraphy. I could see he was scholarly. He was a great calligrapher. That was the very first piece of calligraphy Kung Fu Tai Chi ever received.” The calligraphy proudly hangs on the office wall alongside dozens of others, with even more stored because there isn’t enough wall space left in the office for many more.

Grandmaster Chen’s calligraphy gift reads, “Chen family Taijiquan is a national extraordinary treasure. It builds happiness and blessings as it marches to the society of the world.” It was dated February 3, 1995 and dedicated to Kung Fu Tai Chi’s previous parent company, Pacific Rim Publishing. The piece has never been shown outside of the office; however, in lieu of Grandmaster Chen’s passing, it will be published in the Wisdom section of the issue currently in production, the JAN+FEB 2016. Kung Fu Tai Chi did publish another piece of Grandmaster Chen’s calligraphy in the NOV+DEC 2010 issue. That piece was gifted to Kung Fu Tai Chi later and read, “Martial arts depends upon bitter practice. Profound thought must be given to this.”

I met Grandmaster Chen Qingzhou the same year Gigi did during that very same trip. That was prior to working at Kung Fu Tai Chi (my first freelance article with the magazine was in the DEC+JAN 1997 issue which, coincidental to this, featured Grandmaster Chen Xiaowang on the cover). I participated in the workshop that Grandmaster Chen was giving locally. It was my first taste of Chen Taiji. Kris served as Chen’s translator. To be honest, I don’t really remember what the workshop was about, but I do remember working with Grandmaster Chen. His skill was like nothing I had seen before back then. Chen Qingzhou was a stalwart defender of traditional Chen Taiji, as old school as it gets, and his skills were awe-inspiring.

Grandmaster Chen had a slight build, very weathered as farmers often are, which made him come across as both genuine and charming. He had this disarming grin that had just a slight hint of mischievousness which emerged right after he threw someone down. He did that with such ease. When he tossed someone, it seemed completely effortless on his part. And they would fly. Grandmaster Chen would throw opponents outweighing him by a hundred pounds or more through the air as if tossing a crumpled paper into a waste basket. His sense of his center of balance, his opponent’s center, and leverage was trained so long and so deep that his counterattacks were simple reflex, like drinking from a cup. He never seemed like he gave it much thought. When pushed, his Taiji would repel his opponents so dramatically it was magical to see.

Grandmaster Chen had this testing trick where he would let anyone place both hands on his dantian, his center, and see if they could push him. It was an unusual sensation. Typically, if someone gives me their center so openly, it’s not that hard to push them, even without much Taiji skill. But Chen was different. His belly felt like a rolling ball, like a bowling ball that was spinning just beneath his flesh. When I tried to get a purchase on it, there was a crack like the sound a Kung Fu movie villain makes when he breaks a neck, a jolt of pain, and I was wondering why my face was planted on the floor. The pain subsided quickly, but there was an immediate thought of, “Did he just break my wrists?” It was so blindingly fast. His command of Taiji qinna (joint locks) was truly profound. I remember Kris scolding him – she was afraid he would actually hurt someone, actually snap someone’s wrist, and then she’d be liable. But he didn’t, even though – for an instant – I really thought he did. He had total control.

He also did this other demonstration where he would lie on the floor, place a coin on his belly, and then pop it a few feet in the air using just his dantian. In the years that followed, I’ve witnessed many do this same demonstration, but his was the first I saw and he could pop that coin the highest by far. It all related to control of his dantian, which he attributed to his practice of Chen Taiji, specifically with the Taiji ball.

As Gigi prepares for her first trip to Chen Village next week, all of our hearts are heavy with the tragic loss of Grandmaster Chen Qingzhou. From all of us here, we offer our sympathies to Grandmaster Chen’s family, students and friends. His passing marks an incalculable loss for the entire martial world.