Tag: Changheon-yu

Taekwondo Forms – Unam – Preview

Several years ago I published Taekwondo Forms – Unam, which is a supplementary text to Taekwondo Forms, and which looks at the Changheon-yu form Unam – a precursor to the modern-day Chungjang.

This book is available on Amazon here, but because the book is quite short, Amazon doesn’t show you much of what’s inside it (and it’s quite difficult to describe), so if you’re interested in the book, but want to see more of what’s in it before buying it, here is a preview of the first twelve pages of the book.

Sahyun and sasung – unravelling the mystery

If you’re fortunate to be the owner of a copy of Choi Hong-hi’s condensed or full Encyclopaedia of Taekwondo, and you’ve wandered through some of the pages at the back of the book concerning belts and ranks and titles, you might have seen a section describing the Korean titles given to black belts of various degrees.

In this section there are some very familiar words such as sabeom (written sabum in the book), which means ‘instructor’. The hangeul for sabeom is 사범, and you can look this word up in any reasonably comprehensive Korean-English dictionary. The word is also listed on many websites about Taekwondo as meaning ‘instructor’, and is used in lots of Taekwondo schools every week around the world.

However, also in this section of Choi’s book, you’ll also see words such as sahyun and sasung. Choi describes these words as being used to refer to high-ranking Taekwondo practitioners; however, if you try to look these words up in a Korean dictionary, they are nowhere to be found.

I’ve done this many times over the last few years to try to figure out what the hangeul and hanja for these words are, but have never found anything in any dictionary to suggest that they even are Korean words. Part of the difficulty in doing this is guessing at what the hangeul might be. In his various books, Choi uses his own system of romanising Korean text that is largely based on the American pronunciation of English letters. Knowing this I would guess that the hangeul for sahyun would actually be 사현 and the hangeul for sasung would be 사성; however, putting these words into good online Korean dictionaries (such as dic.naver.com) reveals nothing.

I concluded that these words were simply too obscure to be included in a normal Korean dictionary. I reached a dead-end. Until that was I discovered this page http://www.masterhoward.com/news/342-explanation-of-itf-tkd-titles.html by a Dublin Taekwondo instructor called Robert Howard, which finally gave me the answers I was looking for.

The reason these terms do not appear in standard Korean dictionaries is because they are new terms invented by Choi. This perhaps shouldn’t be surprising – Choi studied calligraphy from a young age, and seemed to like inventing new words (he came up with the name ‘Taekwondo’). I think this is even evident in the names he chose for the Changheon-yu forms, which I think are far more interesting than those of the Kukki-won forms.

The information on the page linked above reveals that sahyun is actually 사현 師賢 sahyeon. 사 師 sa means ‘teacher’, ‘master’, or ‘expert’, and 현 賢 hyeon means ‘a worthy or virtuous person’ or ‘moral’, thus sahyeon means ‘moral teacher’ or ‘wise teacher’. The syllable 현 also appears in words such as 현자 賢者 hyeonja and 현인 賢人 hyeonin, both of which mean ‘wise man’ or ‘sage’.

Similarly, sasung is actually 사성 師聖 saseong. 성 聖 seong means ‘sage’, and thus saseong means ‘sage master’ or ‘sage teacher’ – a title so honorific it could pretty much only be used for Choi himself. The syllable 성 聖 seong also appears in the word 성현 聖賢 seonghyeon, which means ‘sage’.

사현 師賢 sahyeon; moral teacher, wise teacher
사성 師聖 saseong; sage-master

These two words reflect the idea that Taekwondo is not just a method of combat – it is also a moral culture. They also show that high-ranking Taekwondo practitioners should not just be skilled fighters, but should be moral teachers and leaders.

These two words also, to an extraordinary degree, show the presence of Confucianism in Taekwondo. Korea was, for a very long time, a model Confucian society, and Confucian ideals still permeate modern Korean culture. One of the central ideas in Confucianism is that of the sage-king – the idea that the leader of a nation (and leaders in general) should aspire to be like the great sage-kings of antiquity – benevolent rulers who embodied Confucian ideals. The fact that Choi has chosen words here that seem to specifically refer to sagehood shows the influence of Confucianism on Taekwondo.

These two words will be added to the next edition of Taekwondo Terminology (whenever that comes out).

The proper names for ‘ITF’ and ‘WTF’ Taekwondo

(I started writing this article before the World Taekwondo Federation changed its name to just World Taekwondo, but the point still stands. Also, this article somewhat assumes that you haven’t read any of my other posts, as I use the conclusions of this post across the rest of the blog.)

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The two most popular styles of Taekwondo are generally referred to as ‘WTF Taekwondo’ and ‘ITF Taekwondo’. I don’t know about you, but to me these are rather uninspiring names for styles of Taekwondo – sets of initials – they are quite stale and corporate.

‘WTF Taekwondo’ refers to the World Taekwondo Federation, which follows the style and curriculum of Kukki-won, the national centre for Taekwondo in Seoul, South Korea. It’s the style that’s used in the Olympics, so it’s a very visible style of Taekwondo.

‘ITF Taekwondo’, following a similar idea, refers to the International Taekwondo Federation. The ITF was founded by Choi Hong-hi, and the organisation follows the style of Taekwondo promulgated by Choi. However, since its inception, the ITF has split multiple times, and presently there is not just one International Taekwondo Federation, but at least three (which you can read about here: http://taekwondo.wikia.com/wiki/ITF_Taekwon-do). This division is the result of years of disagreements. Several separate organisations call themselves the ‘International Taekwondo Federation’, and each one claims to be the genuine ITF.

There are also other international organisations which practise the same style as the ITFs, but which don’t call themselves the ‘ITF’ (and aren’t necessarily direct secessions). Taekwondo International would be an example of this.

All of the different ITFs (and the other organisations like Taekwondo International) continue to follow Choi’s style of Taekwondo, but there are variations. An example is that students in some of these organisations practise the form Juche, and students in others practise Kodang. So when we say ‘ITF Taekwondo’, which ITF are we referring to? Which ITF is the authority on what ‘ITF Taekwondo’ is?

The name ‘ITF Taekwondo’ is therefore ambiguous. It doesn’t refer to just one style – it refers to one or all of several, ever-so-slightly different styles practised by the different ITFs and ITF-like organisations. (And when you have to explain to someone why the style of Taekwondo you practise is called ‘ITF Taekwondo’, you end up having to explain all of that history, and it gets confusing quickly.) Also, neither of these style names are Korean. I think in Taekwondo, a general principle should be: Korean first, English second (or any other language second). ‘ITF Taekwondo’ and ‘WTF Taekwondo’ are therefore not ideal names for these two styles.

Furthermore, while ‘ITF’ and ‘WTF’ Taekwondo are the two most popular styles, there are several other styles of Taekwondo. ‘GTF Taekwondo’ is the style of the Global Taekwondo Federation. The GTF was established by Bak Jung-tae, and follows a style that’s derived from Choi’s style. The proper name for ‘GTF Taekwondo’ is a topic for another post.

There’s also Cheongdo-kwan Taekwondo. Cheongdo-kwan was one of the original Kwans in 1950’s Korea. Today, the official Cheongdo-kwan supports the curriculum of Kukki-won, but there are other groups with the Cheongdo-kwan name which practise the original style of the school, which includes a number of forms from 松濤館 空手 Shōtōkan Karate.

It’s clear that the names generally used for many styles of Taekwondo are not ideal. So what should these styles be called? What form should these style names have?

Style names in Karate follow one of two schemes: the –ryu scheme, where the style name ends in 流 ryu, meaning ‘style’, such as 剛柔流 Gōjū-ryū or 一心流 Isshin-ryū, and the -kan scheme, where the style name ends in 館 kan, meaning ‘hall’ or ‘place’, such as 松濤館 Shōtōkan. Why is this relevant? Why are the naming conventions in Karate relevant to Taekwondo? Well Taekwondo is of course related to Karate, and one of the features that it borrows is that its name follows the same naming convention as many Japanese martial arts. The -do of Taekwondo is the same -do as in 空手道 karate-dō, 柔道 jūdō, and 剣道 kendō. Consequently, the conventions of style names of Japanese martial arts are also relevant for Taekwondo. Indeed, the original Kwans of Taekwondo all followed these conventions, and the -kwan (관 kwan is the Korean pronunciation of 館 kan) scheme (hence why they are called ‘Kwans’):

  • 창무관 彰武館 Changmu-kwan
  • 청도관 靑濤館 Cheongdo-kwan
  • 강덕원 講德院 Kangdeok-won
  • 한무관 韓武館 Hanmu-kwan
  • 정도관 正道館 Jeongdo-kwan
  • 지도관 智道館 Jido-kwan
  • 무덕관 武德館 Mudeok-kwan
  • 오도관 吾道館 Odo-kwan
  • 송무관 松武館 Songmu-kwan

You may have noticed that there is a Kwan in this list which does not follow the -kwan naming scheme. Kangdeok-won has the ending -won. 원 院 won means ‘institute’ or ‘centre’, and the fact that Kangdeok-won is considered influential in the development of Taekwondo establishes the -won ending as a valid ending for style names in Taekwondo.

Considering these naming schemes, we can write a list of conventions that a style name should follow. A traditional style name should:

  1. Be a Korean name, subsequently translated into English or romanised
  2. Follow
    1. The -ryu or -yu naming scheme (流 -ryū in Korean is pronounced either 류 -ryu or 유 -yu) 
    2. Or the -kwan naming scheme
    3. Or the -won naming scheme
  3. Be based on
    1. The name or pen-name of its founder (a traditional example of this would be Shōtōkan Karate, which was named after 船越 義珍 Funakoshi Gichin, whose pen-name was 松濤 Shōtō)
    2. Or a philosophical concept (a traditional example of this would be Gōjū-ryū, meaning ‘the hard and soft style’)
    3. Or a place (a traditional example of this would be 少林流 Shōrin-ryū, a style of Karate which is reportedly named after 少林寺 Shàolín sì – the Shàolín Temple in China)

So following these conventions, what are some better names for ‘ITF Taekwondo’ and ‘WTF Taekwondo’?

As for ‘ITF Taekwondo’, Choi’s pen-name was 창헌 Changheon, meaning ‘blue pavillion’, and so his style of Taekwondo could be called 창헌유 Changheon-yu. And indeed, Choi himself calls his style this in older versions of his encyclopaedia. This is the name I use for the style whenever I write about it (and is the name Choi’s style is known by in South Korea). Another possible name for Choi’s style could be Odo-kwan. Odo-kwan was one of the nine Kwans, and was founded by Choi. This follows the -kwan naming scheme, and 오도 吾道 odo means ‘our way’. If Choi ever called his style of Taekwondo this, he did not do so very often, and so this name should not be used to refer to Choi’s style of Taekwondo as it exists today.

As for ‘WTF Taekwondo’, ‘WTF Taekwondo’ is not the style that follows the philosophy and principles of a single person, but is instead the style put forth by the Taekwondo centre in Seoul, known as 국기원 國技院 Kukki-won. This name can be used for the style of Taekwondo, as well as the physical place, since the name already follows the conventions listed above – 국기 國技 gukgi means ‘national art’ or ‘national skill’, thus is a philosophical concept, and the name follows the -won scheme.

So these are my recommendations for how we should refer to the major styles of Taekwondo. ‘ITF Taekwondo’ is properly called Changheon-yu Taekwondo (or Ch’anghŏn-yu if you prefer the McCune-Reischauer Romanisation, and Changhon-yu if you prefer a simplified romanisation), and ‘WTF Taekwondo’ is properly called Kukki-won Taekwondo (which would be written Gukgi-won in the Revised Romanisation, and Kukki-wŏn in the McCune-Reischauer Romanisation). These names are unambiguous; they are Korean; and they are not stale or corporate in the way that ‘ITF’ and ‘WTF’ are.

‘Is Taekwondo a religion?’

I’ve put the title above in quotation marks because this is not a question that I am asking of you, the reader – this is a question that was asked of me a long time ago. Actually, more specifically, it was put to me as a statement – that ‘Taekwondo is a religion’ – by one of my friends.

I hadn’t been training in Taekwondo for very long at the time – probably about a year and a half – and the friend who asked it of me was not a martial artist at all. She was just very interested in philosophy (and went on to study philosophy at university).

My answer at the time was a firm ‘no, Taekwondo is not a religion’, though not having thought of the question before, I was not very well equipped to say why it was not. Nevertheless I have not forgotten being asked the question.

Certainly in some ways Taekwondo is similar to many world religions. We have a traditional style of clothing – the dobok; we have traditional rituals that we learn from and teach to each other – the forms; we have separate denominations – the different styles of Taekwondo – Changheon-yu, Kukki-won; we have founders; we have a hierarchical structure.

But these things alone do not make something a religion. Many of these attributes also apply to the supporters of football clubs, and they are generally not considered a religion (though I’m sure some philosophers would disagree). This question comes down to, as it often does: what is the defining quality of a religion?

Personally, I think that a religion has to have a supernatural belief system – you have to believe in a deity or some other metaphysical entity. While in Taekwondo we do idolise a number of people – such as Choi Hong-hi and Hwang Ki – there are no gods or goddesses. On this alone, I would say that Taekwondo is not a religion.

However, some would argue that belief in the supernatural is too narrow a constraint for the definition of a religion. It would most likely exclude Confucianism (which I would also not consider a religion, but again some would argue differently). Some would argue that a religion is any codified set of beliefs.

Taekwondo – particularly Changheon-yu Taekwondo – does have a set of beliefs. These are the tenets, or virtues, of Taekwondo: courtesy, integrity, perseverance, self-control, and indomitable spirit. These are the tenets by which students are expected to act in Taekwondo classes. But it is also often remarked that Taekwondo is not just an activity that you do for a few hours a week – it is a way of life. The five tenets, as well as other aspects of Taekwondo and Korean culture, are supposed to be part of your life outside of the dojang too. Therefore, the tenets, and the culture of Taekwondo, is a set of beliefs about how to live, comparable (and indeed heavily influenced by) the values of Confucianism.

So under this broader definition of a religion, where a religion is simply any set of beliefs, Taekwondo could be considered a religion. However, this does also make it arguable that capitalism is a religion as well. (Again, I’m sure that some philosophers would argue that capitalism is a religion.)

So in conclusion. This question leads to the usual philosophical minefield about the definition of religion and what things you think should and shouldn’t be considered a religion. While there are some similarities between Taekwondo and world religions, I think they are sufficiently different that Taekwondo should not be considered a religion.

Are there too many forms in Taekwondo?

Taekwondo has A LOT of forms (patterns, 형 hyeong, 틀 teul, 품새 pumsae). Most Taekwondo practitioners only really know of the forms in their own style, and have a limited awareness of the forms practised by other styles. To give you an idea of how many forms there are in wider Taekwondo, in the book Taekwondo Forms, which lists forms from four styles of Taekwondo (Changheon-yu, Jukam-yu, Kukki-won, and Songdo-kwan), there are 71 forms. A cursory glance at the forms page on the Taekwondo Wikia website http://taekwondo.wikia.com/wiki/Taekwondo_Forms reveals 30, 40, maybe 50 more (depending on which styles of Taekwondo you consider to be legitimate, which is itself a topic that could cover several blog posts or even an entire book). With the announcement from Kukki-won last year of the development of ten new Taekwondo forms, to be used for competitions, it all leads to the question: are there too many forms in Taekwondo?

It’s worth noting that Taekwondo has had some very prolific forms designers in it. Choi Hong-hi, the founder of the Changheon-yu style, is an excellent example. With the assistance of a few of his fellow practitioners, Choi created 25 full forms for his style of Taekwondo. When you consider someone like 糸洲 安恒 Itosu Ankō, a highly prominent Karateka who is credited with designing the 平安 Pinan series of forms in Karate (known as 평안 Pyeong-an in Taekwondo and Tangsudo), created 5 forms, 25 is an impressive number. Hwang Ki was also quite prolific, creating the 칠성 Chilseong and 육로 Yungno series’ of forms, as well as 화순 Hwasun – 14 forms in total. Bak Jung-tae, the founder of Jukam-yu, designed 6 forms, but among these are some of the longest and most complex forms in Taekwondo.

With the addition of ten new forms into Kukki-won Taekwondo, that puts the total number of forms in that style up to 35 (if you exclude the apparently unfinished forms of 한류 Hallyu and 비각 Bigak, and the older version of the form 고려 Koryeo, but if you include both the 팔괘 Palgwae and 태극 Taegeuk forms). That means that there are now more forms in Kukki-won Taekwondo than any other style of Taekwondo (legitimate or illegitimate). It beats Changheon-yu’s 25 (including both 고당 Kodang and 주체 Juche). Has the number of forms in all of Taekwondo surpassed the number in all of Karate? It would be difficult to count either set, as there are many forms that it would be questionable to include.

The problem is that there’s really no limit to how many of these forms can be designed. It’s difficult for new forms to be introduced into Changheon-yu, because there’s no central authority to decide what is and isn’t correct in Changheon-yu (or rather, the central authority is Choi’s books, which aren’t going to change now). But Kukki-won could design a new set of forms every ten years. Each set could never entirely replace the previous set, as the design of each set would be recorded for posterity, and still practised by some (which is what’s happened with the Palgwae forms, which were supposed to be replaced by the Taegeuk forms).

So as much as there is the problem of inflating grades (tenth, eleventh, twelfth degree of black belt), there is the potential for an inflating number of forms. With possibly well over 100 forms in all of Taekwondo, and now at least 35 in Kukki-won Taekwondo, this inflation has arguably already happened, and may well continue to happen. It’s not necessarily a problem yet, but it may become a problem at some point in the future.

New Kukki-won forms: a break from tradition?

What is a form? In a literal sense, it is a sequence of movements designed to be instructive or useful in some aspect of Taekwondo training. Forms have many uses. They teach correct stances and stepping, posture and balance, timing. Most importantly they teach you the basic form of each movement: how to punch in an offensive stance, how to maintain a defensive stance.

But there are some exercises in Taekwondo which also have all of these attributes, but which are not considered forms. Set sparring would be an example of this. (There is a broader point here as to whether a set sparring exercise could be considered a form, but that’s a topic for another post.) However, there are some differences between set sparring and forms that would allow us to define what a form is more narrowly. Set sparring is generally practised with an opponent; forms are an individual activity. A form could be defined as an instructive sequence of movements that is performed by one person. But then, in Changheon-yu Taekwondo, there is the exercise called 사주 지르기 Saju Jireugi, which also fits this definition but which is universally not considered a form (sometimes to the confusion of white belt students).

All of these considerations lead to a new question: what is the defining quality of a form? What is it that makes a form a form?

Returning to the example of Saju Jireugi in Changheon-yu Taekwondo, the explanation that’s often given for why this exercise is not a ‘form’ is that it doesn’t have an interpretation. The other such exercises in Changheon-yu Taekwondo – 천지 Cheonji, 단군 Dan-gun, 도산 Dosan, and so on – all have lengthy explanations of what the name means, given by Choi in his encyclopaedia. Saju Jireugi does not have a lengthy interpretation, just a short literal translation of ‘punching in four directions’ or more commonly ‘four-directional punch’. I find this distinction arbitrary – Saju Jireugi does have an interpretation, just a short one instead of a long one. A translation is a kind of interpretation.

Saju Jireugi is ultimately very similar to the exercises above it. In fact the only real differences seem to be that it’s easier than all of the other exercises in Changheon-yu (though it’s only slightly easier than Cheonji), and that the name of the exercise has no 한자 hanja writing (지르기 jireugi only has a 한글 han-geul writing). And in fact I think this second difference is quite significant.

All of the other twenty-five forms in Changheon-yu (including both 고당 Kodang and 주체 Juche) are consistent in how they’re named. They’re all named after a person, a group of people, a place, or a philosophical concept. They all have a writing in both han-geul and hanja. And they are all exactly two syllables long. This last part perhaps reveals Choi’s intentions. There are many examples of when Choi takes a longer name or word, and shortens it for the name of a form: 연개소문 Yeon Gaesomun was shortened to 연개 Yeon-gae, 을지문덕 Eulji Mundeok was shortened to 을지 Eulji, and there are several other examples.

I think the fact that Choi chose to give the other exercises, the forms, in Changheon-yu, names that fitted these criteria, and that he did not give Saju Jireugi such a name, is what means that Saju Jireugi is not a form.

Now at this point, I would expect the reader to point out that the conventions that apply to Changheon-yu don’t necessarily apply to other styles of Taekwondo. That’s true. However, when looking at the forms that are practised in other styles of Taekwondo, it is apparent that these conventions on form names are broadly true of Taekwondo in general.

These conventions are followed for many of the forms that have been inherited from Karate. (Now, this is arguably not a valid example. Forms loaned from Karate are arguably not ‘Taekwondo’ forms, since they were not designed or named by someone who practises Taekwondo. Also, since they were not named by Taekwondo practitioners, they are arguably not relevant when discussing the naming conventions of forms in Taekwondo. However, the style of the names of Karate 型 kata almost certainly inspired the way in which Taekwondo 형 hyeong are named, and their similarity supports this idea.) 平安 Heian, 披塞 Bassai, 燕飛 Enpi, 明鏡 Meikyō, 観空 Kankū, 鉄騎 Tekki, 十手 Jitte, 半月 Hangetsu, 慈恩 Jion, and more all follow this pattern. (Hangetsu is three syllables but it’s only two 漢字 kanji characters.) In this list I have included many kata that were renamed by 船越 義珍 Funakoshi Gichin, the founder of 松濤館 空手 Shōtō-kan Karate, whom many of the early practitioners of Taekwondo are believed to have been taught by. Many of these kata appear in early editions of Choi’s encyclopaedia, as well as Hwang Ki’s textbooks, indicating that these kata, as well as Funakoshi, had an influence on the idea of what a form is, and how a form should be named, in Taekwondo.

And in Kukki-won Taekwondo, these naming conventions have been followed up until this point: 팔괘 八卦 Palgwae, 태극 太極 Taegeuk, 고려 高麗 Koryeo, 금강 金剛 Keumgang, 태백 太白 Taebaek, 평원 平原 Pyeong-won, 십진 十進 Shipjin, 지태 地跆 Jitae, 천권 天拳 Cheon-gwon, 한수 漢水 Hansu, and 일여 一如 Iryeo all follow this pattern.

In fact the only examples I can think of where this convention isn’t followed are in some of the forms that have been inherited from Karate, as well as the very obscure and very undocumented forms practised in early Changmu-kwan and Kangdeok-won. Several of the ten new Kukki-won forms depart from these conventions: most of them do not have hanja writings – they are based on native Korean words – and several have names with more than two syllables. The decision by Kukki-won to give new forms names that don’t follow these conventions is a notable break from tradition.

Taekwondo Forms – the forms that weren’t included

I wrote the book Taekwondo Forms in early 2014. The purpose of the book was to consistently document as many forms as possible. The reason for trying to do that is that while some forms, such as the 창헌유 Changheon-yu forms (천지 Cheonji, 단군 Dan-gun, 도산 Dosan, et c.), are written about a lot, other forms, such as the forms inherited from 松濤館 Shōtō-kan and practised in the early years of Taekwondo, or forms like 선덕 Seondeok and 죽암 Jugam from 죽암유 태권도 Jukam-yu Taekwondo, are not. If you, as someone who researches the lesser-known aspects of Taekwondo, want some information about a form, you’ll find a lot more information on Cheonji than you will on 지상 Jisang. The purpose of Taekwondo Forms is to be a convenient starting point for someone researching forms.

However, the problem with writing about obscure forms is that some forms are just so obscure that they go unnoticed the first time around. When I was writing the first edition of Taekwondo Forms, there were various forms that were so obscure I didn’t find out about them, or I did know about them, but the information I had on them wasn’t reliable enough to put them into the book.

So here are some of the forms that I didn’t write about in the book. Some of these forms I have written about in books that I have since written, or am currently writing, and others I haven’t yet covered at all.

Floor diagrams statistics

What a delightfully dry topic this is.

In Taekwondo, every form has a floor diagram. The floor diagram shows the lines along which a student should move as they perform the form.

In Karate, floor diagrams, which are called 演武線 embusen, ‘lines of attack’, are often more literal. If you take more steps in one direction than another, this is shown on the diagram. In Taekwondo, floor diagrams, which could be called 연무선 yeonmuseon – the Korean pronunciation of 演武線 embusen – are more symbolic. The asymmetries of the form are often not shown – for example, in the Changheon-yu form Dan-gun, you start by taking two steps to the left, and then turn and take two steps to the right. The result of this is actually that you move twice as far from your starting position to the left than you do to the right, but this is generally not shown in the floor diagram.

This symbolic aspect of floor diagrams in Taekwondo is taken even further, and floor diagrams are often based on a 한자 漢字 Hanja character (indeed, the Hanja character for the form is chosen first, and then the form is designed around it). This is, arguably, one of the defining aspects of a form in Taekwondo. It’s more common in Kukki-won and Jukam-yu Taekwondo than it is in Changheon-yu.

Some Hanja characters are more popular for form design than others. In the table below I’ve counted how many forms use which Hanja character, and given the meaning and pronunciation of each character. (For this list I’ve looked at the forms that I included in my book, Taekwondo Forms, as well as a few others.) In this table I’ve included not only those forms for which the symbolism of the floor diagram is intentional, but also those for which it is co-incidental, for comparison.

(There are some forms which have floor diagrams that do not match any Hanja character – the form Dosan being the most well-known example.)

 

Hanja Character Mandarin Pronunciation Korean Pronunciation Meaning Where the symbolism is intentional Where the symbolism is co-incidental Number of forms
下 [2] xià 하 ha below Cheon-gwon Godang, Palgwae Chil Jang 3
上 [2] shàng 상 sang above Jitae Pyeong-an Samdan, Pyeong-an Odan, Balsae, Yeonbi, Chungjang 6
士 shì 사 sa scholar, gentleman Yulgok, Toigye, Koryeo Pyeong-an Sadan, Palgwae Pal Jang 5
工 gōng 공 gong work Taebaek Gwan-gong, Ja-eun, Dan-gun (Choi), Wonhyo, Junggeun, Hwarang, Chungmu, Dan-gun (Bak), Palgwae Il Jang, Palgwae I Jang, Palgwae Sam Jang, Palgwae Sa Jang 13
一 yī 일 il one Pyeong-won Cheolgi Chodan, Cheolgi Idan, Cheolgi Samdan, Po-eun [3] 5
十 shí 십 ship ten Shipjin Shipsu [3], Banwol, Cheonji, Samil, Choiyeong, Yeon-gae, Munmu, Seosan, Jisang, Jigu 11
土 tǔ 토 to land, territory Gwanggae   1
山 shān 산 san mountain Juche, Keumgang   2
乙 [1] yǐ 을 eul second Eulji   1
王 wáng 왕 wang king Sejong Taegeuk Il Jang, Taegeuk I Jang, Taegeuk Sam Jang, Taegeuk Sa Jang, Taegeuk O Jang, Taegeuk Yuk Jang, Taegeuk Chil Jang, Taegeuk Pal Jang [4] 9
平 [1] píng 평 pyeong peace Pyeonghwa   1
女 nǚ 여 yeo woman Seondeok   1
水 [1] shuǐ 수 su water Hansu   1
卍 wàn 만 man a sacred and auspicious symbol in Buddhism Iryeo   1
None – – – – Pyeong-an Chodan, Pyeong-an Idan, Myeonggyeong, Dosan, Gyebaek, Uiam, Yushin, Tong-il, Jugam, Palgwae O Jang, Palgwae Yuk Jang 11

[1] This character is made more geometric for the floor diagram.

[2] The lateral dash is not part of the floor diagram.

[3] This may actually be intentional.

[4] The symbolism of the floor diagrams for the Kukki-won Taegeuk forms is intentional, but the floor diagram is supposed to look like a trigram, rather than the Hanja word for ‘king’.

 

So it seems that 工 gong is the most popular, followed by 十 ship and 王 wang (which is mainly because all of the modern Taegeuk forms have that diagram). It’s easy to see why these are the most popular – they’re quite simple, and they’re symmetric, and they allow for easy stepping between the lines of the diagram.

When I write about forms, I will often describe a form as having a ‘工 gong shaped floor diagram’, or a ‘十 ship shaped floor diagram’, even if the symbolism is not intended, because it’s quite a convenient way of showing what the diagram is.