Samuel Bradley — Immortal Mushroom

 
 
 
 
 

Nicknamed the “mushroom of immortality” in English, Ganoderma mushrooms are known as “lingzhi” in Chinese and as “reishi” in Japanese. The name lingzhi represents a combination of ‘spiritual potency’ and ‘the essence of immortality’. These mushrooms have been referenced as far back as 100 BC as a supplement used to improve human health. For generations, lingzhi has been used by TCM practitioners to nourish the ‘three treasures’ — jing (essence), qi (vital energy), and shen (spirit). “If eaten customarily, it makes your body light and young, lengthens your life, and turns you into one like the immortal who never dies,” the mythological emperor Shen Nong, who is thought to have taught the Chinese how to practice agriculture, the use of herbal drugs, the application of plant-based medicine and acupuncture, is recorded to have said more than 2.400 years ago.

It is only fitting that “Immortal Mushroom” is the title of the debut book by photographer Samuel Bradley and writer Kat Chan, where they take us on a journey through a forgotten world formerly known as Zhongdian County in Yunnan — but renamed Shangri-La — drawing its title from James Hilton’s 1933 novel Lost Horizon. Samuel Bradley pairs the intensity of primary colours incidentally encountered with the simplicity of still lifes that seem like ritualised offerings to an ancient world — reminding us of the purity of Daoist life philosophy. The book presents with intimate insights into local life, a strong sensation of being on the road with no destination ahead and the possibility to capture a real place through the fog of a dream. “Immortal Mushroom” is a celebration of examining our relationship with origins and roots through the eyes of a younger generation eager to learn.

Contained within the book is a conversation between Kat Chan and Dr Kaicun Zhao, the current programme leader of the TCM programme at Middlesex University and the president of the “Association of Traditional Chinese Medicine and Acupuncture,” the largest professional body in Chinese medicine in the United Kingdom.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The philosophy and power of the traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) first piqued my interest as a child climbing up the stairs into a doctor’s office in Causeway Bay, Hong Kong, where wood-panelled walls engraved with landscapes from the natural world seemed to shelter an apothecary of fantastical roots, flowers and rare herbs. The space protected the poorly from a frantic and urbanised world outside, taxi horns relentlessly honking as the doctor restored balance — yin yang — in the body and mind, which began with listening to the pulse in my tiny wrist.

In essence, Chinese medicine is deeply rooted in nature and its forces of change. The holistic medical system, which has existed for over 2.000 years and for so long as it has been in practice, its philosophy has been grounded in preventing harm and promoting longevity. In the time since esteemed practitioner and professor Dr Kaicun Zhao first moved to the UK from Beijing to continue his studies and eventually teach, the understanding of TCM has changed drastically. Practices once considered foreign and too eastern have been integrated into many healthy lifestyles around the world.

In conversation with Dr Zhao, we explore the evolving practice of using food as medicine, and the cultural shifts that affect our understanding.


— Kat Chan

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

How did you get into Chinese medicine?

That’s a long, long, long story. When I graduated secondary school it was during the Cultural Revolution. At the time, the students didn’t have the chance to graduate from secondary school and go straight to university. University students were selected from the existing workforce, peasants and soldiers. You had to work before going to university.


Who does the selecting?

In China at the time, all the companies and factories were controlled by the government. Leaders at the companies would select the people to send to university.


How long would people have to work for before they could go to university?

Two years, sometimes longer, sometimes shorter. There was no strict time frame. It depended on the opportunities available. Every factory or company would be given a number of spaces by the government, so say you had two spaces, you could send two people to the university.


I had no idea.

Yeah! That was only during the Cultural Revolution, they did that for several years.


What was it like for you?

When I graduated from secondary school I couldn’t go to university — so I had to find something else to do. Normally, secondary schools were in charge of giving you opportunities but there weren’t many available. You just do whatever they suggest, so when I graduated, they sent me to a Chinese herbal medicine school. I never thought of going to study Chinese medicine before that.


And you carried on in medicine from there?

Yeah! That was in 1973. After that I also worked at a Chinese medicine factory. Do you know Tong Ren Tang?


Yes of course.

I worked at Tong Ren Tang for more than one year. I learnt how to prepare medicine. Later, in 1976, the Cultural Revolution ended and the government restored the original university system and set up the national college entrance exam (gaokao). If you passed the exam you could select your own university, so I took the exam and went to Beijing University.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Did you have any interest in herbal medicine when you were growing up?

Not particularly. When I was growing up I really liked physics — I preferred it over biology. When I was in school, biology was taught in a more ‘realistic’ way. It was during the Cultural Revolution so it was less about flowers and herbs, more about how to grow rice or wheat. Basically, things for farmers. Practical things rather than general biology.


When you took the exam to go to University, did you think ‘maybe I’ll do something different’?

Actually I did. I was still interested in physics but I had already started my journey in herbal medicine — I mean, every Chinese person, even if you don’t know the details of how it works, has a relationship to Chinese medicine. When I was at Tong Ren Tang, it was not very modernised and they still had old methods to prepare medicine, which was really interesting. At the time it was still the honey pills.


The big pills?

Yeah! It was so interesting. I met a lot of older people who studied their craft at Tong Ren Tang before the new China was established. A lot of things made me curious and I wanted to know more.


What did you learn from older practitioners that people getting into Chinese medicine now wouldn’t know?

How to make traditional Chinese medicine products like honey pills, where they ground the herbs and added honey to make pills. Also another one called shui wan, you could call them water pills. It’s made with herbs, water and some starch. Traditional formulations.

When I graduated from Beijing University in 1982, they were already starting to develop the nong suo wan, the super black, concentrated pills you see everywhere now. No longer grinding herbs and adding honey, they started to use a scientific method to extract the active component of the herb to make smaller pills with the same amount of efficacy. Later you got tablets, pills, injections.


Injections?

Yeah, herbal medicine injections. The typical ones are called qing kai ling, used to clear heat.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

How does Chinese medicine differ from western medicine?

If you compare the two medical systems, each one has their advantages and their own disadvantages. If you have an acute issue, say you broke your leg, western medicine has an advantage — the medicine works quickly and it’s very powerful. If you have chronic conditions such as eczema, conventional medicines actually don’t have many treatments they can do. Sometimes you can use steroids to reduce the symptoms but you can’t get rid of the problem. Herbs can be much more effective than steroids, and it can get rid of the problem completely. When people recover, frequently the problem doesn’t come back.

Actually, that’s why Chinese medicine first became popular in the United Kingdom. In the 1980s, one doctor called Ding Hui Luo from Hong Kong treated children’s eczema with excellent results. It was reported on by the BBC and it made Chinese medicine much more popular. So, in certain chronic situations Chinese herbal medicine has an advantage.


Makes sense.

What I do not like is the argument. Sometimes western medicine doctors say Chinese medicine is not scientific or that it’s not working, and I know Chinese medicine practitioners that say western medicine only treats the symptom, not the problem. I think it should always depend on the condition. You should combine the two medicines.


If the western medicine soothes quickly and Chinese medicine takes time, how do you know Chinese medicine is working?

With headaches, you take painkillers and they will stop the pain quickly but it sometimes comes back. With insomnia, which affects a lot of people, when you take the medicine it may help you sleep but when you wake up you still feel tired and if you don’t keep taking the medicine it’s the same thing again. With Chinese medicine, you take the medicine and acupuncture and it takes time to work but within two or three weeks patients usually can sleep, even without the herbs.


Is there also some benefit because herbs are a natural product, while painkillers are chemical?

It’s true — one is natural and one is synthesised or purified chemicals. The dosage is higher with chemicals, with herbs you take more but the dosage is relatively lower. But if you say there are no side effects from taking herbs, that’s not true. They are powerful. If you’re not using then properly, they can cause toxicity.


Right. I read that in 2370 BC the emperor Shen Nong tested over 300 herbs for their toxicity and side effects to create the first book of Chinese medicine.

You’re referring to the Shen Nong Ben Cao Jing — it’s the earliest proof of recorded Chinese herbal medicine. It was created more than 2.000 years ago, they used Shen Nong’s name for the book but he didn’t compile it. It was created during the Chun Qiu Zhan Guo (spring and autumn period) during the Zhou dynasty, which spanned about 800 years, the longest dynasty in Chinese history.

At the end, during the Warring States period of 400 years (Zhan Guo), one of the smaller countries called Qin Guo in the Shanxi Province, Qin Shihuang united the whole of China because he defeated all of the other countries. I think the book was created around that time. The story that Shen Nong tasted all the herbs and was poisoned 70 times a day came from then. It’s just a story but it gives you the idea that the people who made the book tasted the herbs practically, accumulating the long history of herbal knowledge into that book.


Is it true that in ancient China, doctors were paid by families to keep them healthy and they stopped paying the doctors when they got sick?

In Chinese medicine we emphasise the prevention rather than the cure. Traditionally, we put emphasis on prevention before you have problems, which is called zhi wei bing. “Zhi” means treat, “wei” means without, “bing” means disease. This means treating while you’re still healthy rather than waiting until you have a disease to treat conditions. That’s not to say that Chinese medicine can’t treat diseases but we think treatment should come before that — knowing how to control your food, exercise, whatever. This is one of the traditional Chinese medicine theories, we say the best doctors treat patients without disease — they predict and treat to stop things from developing.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

How do you predict?

The way people describe their conditions. Do they have the heat feeling? How is their mood? You can see some people easily become angry or tired, you can combine this understanding with reading the tongue and pulse. Combine not just the physical symptoms but the holistic experience. Then use herbs to tune the body.


It’s like maintaining a machine.

Exactly. Kind of like going to a nutritionist to know what minerals and vitamins you need.


It’s interesting because it’s not just your body you’re examining though, it’s your mood.

Yes. Chinese medicine puts everything together. All the different things.


What are the different things?

Emotional symptoms and physical symptoms. With liver Qi stagnation for example, it’s not just the physical feeling of distending in the chest or a hypochondrial discomfort but also significant emotional symptoms like feeling upset and angry easily, or a feeling of depression. It’s combined. People have more than just physiological symptoms — people also have mental and emotional changes.

Chinese medicine is also rooted in philosophy. You know, “yin yang” and the “five elementary system” — everything is fitted into theory frameworks. But theories also have limitations, some practitioners say that Chinese medicine theories are perfect but I donʼt agree with that. Let’s always be realistic.


I want to ask you about the realistic power of herbs. I mentioned earlier that our book is called “Immortal Mushroom” after the nickname for the lingzhi mushroom. What makes it so powerful?

Lingzhi is definitely at the top of the pyramid — it’s very useful in enhancing the immune system. It was also historically difficult to obtain, like ginseng, which made it feel even more special. But it’s not like it is in the stories... Do you know the story Bai Shi Juan?


I’m not sure... can you tell it to me?

It’s a lovely story. There was a gentleman called Xu Xian. One day he was escaping the rain under a small pavilion and a lady, who is actually a snake that transformed over time into a lady, was also there so they met.


She looked like a snake?

Do you know xiu xing? In ancient stories, animals that practice Qi over a thousand years develop an ability to change their forms into humans. Anyway, the lady meets the gentleman, they fall in love and get married. But later, a powerful monk from a temple who knows the beautiful lady is not a real human tells Xu Xian, but the gentleman refused to believe him. The monk then gives him some wines that contain a medicine, asking the gentleman to let his wife drink it and reveal her true self, so during the Duan Wu Jie festival he gives it to his wife and she quickly becomes a snake. He’s so shocked he nearly dies. When the wife recovers from the wine and sees her husband at death’s bed, she goes into the mountains, fighting with animals and spending a lot of time overcoming difficulties to get the herb — the lingzhi. When she gets back with the lingzhi, she boils it in water, feeds it to him and brings him back to life. Lingzhi is very useful but it’s not as powerful as that!

That’s a love story.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

“Immortal Mushroom”

© 2020 Samuel Bradley & Kat Chan

Published by
Holiday Deluxe